Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Spread your wings, little angel.”

Felix mewls into the thick furs cushioning the ground below him, skin buzzing, body trembling as the words are growled just below his ear. Hot panting breaths, a cold, wet muzzle and sharp canines press into his sensitive flesh. He’s made acutely aware of how vulnerable he is, lying naked and prone as silky, soft fur tickles over the backs of his thighs. 

“Now, angel.”

With fluttering white feathers, Felix clamps his teeth around his knuckle and forces his wings to unfurl. The thin bones creak as they stretch, joints popping from being kept so tight to his spine for too long. It doesn’t hurt, but it brings him to tears nonetheless; the reminder of why he’s here, how he ended up in the hands of such a creature. 

Felix was supposed to kill him. If only he struck down the lone wolf and returned with his heart as proof, Felix would be allowed to go home. No longer banished, no longer forsaken and forgotten and fallen from grace. 

And yet he finds himself trapped, not by fear or force, but by need, a visceral desire deep in his soul that yearns to be fanned into roaring flames. 

Clawed hands comb through his feathers from root to tip with a gentleness Felix never expected. 

“There you are,” the wolf coos, “in all your glory.”

“Chan…” Felix whimpers, shaking as his wings reach their full span, fluffed and aching and casting shadows over the ground. He peers through wet lashes at the firelight peeking through his feathers and wonders, not for the first time, how the elders expected him to win. He was doomed from the start. 

It feels like a sin, the way Chan cups his ass with both hands, claws close to drawing blood, and spreads him apart. It’s shameful, the way Felix’s body arches into him when his slick cock slides between his cheeks and prods at his hole, too big, too much, he couldn’t possibly—

“Take it,” Chan snarls, smothering Felix with his broad frame, taller and thicker, stronger than Felix could ever be. “Take me, angel.”

He bullies his cock past Felix’s rim, dripping a fresh glob of spit from his maw to ease the slide. The stretch burns, hurts as he’s breached, the last reserves of his purity ruined and stolen right from his very core. 

Felix sobs, open-mouthed and wet, but reaches out, back where Chan’s haunches are caging him in, to dig his fingers into grey fur, to pull the wolf closer. He needs him deeper, needs to feel him in his belly, in his throat. 

“Please,” he begs, “I can, I will.”

“I know you will,” Chan assures, “you’re made for it, aren’t you? Made for me?” His hips press against Felix’s ass and they both groan in unison, a deep growl paired with a high keen. “Casted from Heaven and into the arms of the damned where you belong.”

Chapter Text

Felix peeks through the crack in the door, a soft smile tugging on his lips at the sight before him. Chan is lounging in the water, the custom-made claw-foot tub still not enough to hold all of him. Coils of red scales and rippling muscle hang over the tub’s edge, leading all the way down to where the tip of his tail is flicking water onto the floor. 

He should know better, but Felix lets him continue to play. Watching Chan now, no longer in a laboratory but in Felix’s own home is bemusing. There are so many mundane aspects of human life that Chan will never understand or accept, like sleeping in a bed or eating with chopsticks. Every time Felix has tried to explain or introduce him to such common things, the Naga hisses and rejects it outright. 

Sometimes guilt wraps a cold hand around Felix’s heart. From an outside perspective, Chan might as well be no more than a glorified pet. Pampered perhaps isn’t the right word, but Felix is always quick to ensure Chan’s comfort, adding new features and adjustments to their home to ensure he can thrive in such an environment. 

The floor creaks when Felix shifts his weight and he knows he’s been caught before a familiar hiss slices through the air. He pushes the door open slowly, shy despite himself, and pads into the bathroom. 

“Hi, Channie,” he greets, fond.

Chan watches him, only his eyes visible over the side of the tub, slit pupils dilating as Felix draws near. He waits until Felix is only a foot away before using his arms to pull his torso out of the water, little droplets running down his sculpted chest. His lips part and his forked tongue flickers to test the humid air. 

He furrows his brows in what has to be concentration and whispers, “Lixsss.”

Felix crowds closer, rubs their noses together and giggles at the way Chan goes cross-eyed. “Very good,” he praises, all too aware of the not-so-sneaky way Chan is coiling his tail around his feet. “What have you been doing all day, hm?”

Chan looks around the room, shrugs once, and wraps his arms around Felix’s waist. Felix lets it happen, lets Chan get his clothes wet and nuzzle into his neck. Only stops him when Chan goes to pull the fabric over his head. 

“In words, honey.”

“Lixssss.”

Truthfully, Felix isn’t sure if his name is Chan’s favorite word or if it’s just the easiest to say. Either way, pouting and hissing the word is one of his preferred pastimes.

Felix tsks and steps just out of reach with playful disapproval. “No, no. You have to tell me. Then I’ll join you.”

Chan weaves his tail between Felix’s ankles, the tip well on its way up his thigh. “Misssss you,” he shares, blinking innocently. 

“You missed me?” Felix teases. “That’s it?”

Whenever Chan gets frustrated, especially when Felix makes him speak, he gets rather handsy. Part of it is him falling back on his own ways of communication and part of it is because he knows Felix can do little to resist him. 

“Missss Lixsss,” he emphasizes. What little patience he possesses fizzles out and within seconds he has Felix back in his arms, fully clothed, submerged up to their necks in water. “Alwayssss.”

“Yeah?” Felix coos, having expected this very outcome from the moment he spotted the Naga through the door. “You gonna show me how much?”

Chapter Text

When the nurse walks into the room, Chris startles and fixes his posture, a hopeful yet shy smile on his face. 

The nurse returns his grin, eyes glancing down at the clipboard in his hand. “Christopher, yes?” 

He’s an omega, the nurse. It shouldn’t matter, it really doesn’t. But Chris takes note of it and pushes down the nerves bubbling in his stomach. Maybe they did it on purpose, to rile him up, to ensure a good performance. It would make sense, a teaser omega of sorts to trigger his instincts. 

“That’s me,” he confirms, words a little too airy.

“Great, I’m Felix. I’ll be conducting your exam today.”

Chris suddenly feels guilty for his assumptions. Felix is a professional, he should see him as more than just a pretty face. He is—so pretty though. Blonde hair, pink lips, tight blue scrubs. 

“Right, yeah,” Chris says, eyeing the nurse as casually as he can. They gave him a pill before he came in here, said it would boost his pheromones and increase the chances of a successful collection. 

Felix hums and sets the clipboard aside. “How did you hear about our program, Christopher?”

“Just Chris is fine,” he offers, clearing his throat. “A friend of mine suggested it to me. I wasn’t sure at first, but it seems like the work you guys are doing is helping a lot of people, so. Figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Of course, Chris. I’m glad to hear you believe in our mission. Most alphas just want the immediate benefits, they could care less about the actual outcome,” Felix explains as he grabs things from a cupboard. A small cup with a lid. Lube. “Are you ready to begin?” 

“Right now?” Chris finds himself asking dumbly. He’s glad Felix seems easy going, who smiles up to his eyes and slides closer on a rolling stool. 

“Right now, yes,” he laughs. “Do you want something specific to look at? I can pull up some pictures on the monitor or perhaps play a video?” As he talks, Felix places both palms high on Chris’ thigh, firmly squeezing the muscle once. His hands are so small. 

“Shouldn’t you be wearing gloves?”

Felix’s eyes widen slightly before settling back into a neutral expression. “I can, although most candidates prefer I continue without. The texture can be…distracting.”

Right. That makes sense. Rubber would probably feel really weird. No gloves it is. He nods for Felix to continue, following his instructions to lay back against the reclined seat and relax. From this angle, he has an unintentional view of Felix’s arched back, his spread legs as he leans forward and begins to unbuckle Chris’ belt. 

Felix’s movements are clinical, as is expected, but Chris is pretty sure any form of touch from an omega this gorgeous would have him in shambles. He’s already half hard from the first few touches to his hips, on his thighs as his pants and boxers are pulled down to allow easy access. A gasp catches in his throat when Felix wraps one warm hand around his cock, fingers squeezing and tugging to bring him to full hardness. 

“You’re very well endowed,” Felix says, merely an observation, but Chris flushes pink nonetheless. 

“Uh, thanks,” he mumbles, unsure if he was meant to respond or not. The omega just nods, tongue darting out before he sinks his teeth into his plush bottom lip. 

Chris is unbelievably hard. He’s nervous as hell, but his body doesn’t care, hips bucking as Felix drips lube directly onto his cock and spreads it around with both hands. It’s so much fucking lube, thick and glossy and getting warmer the more Felix touches him. He digs his fingers into the cushioned seat below him and groans as Felix flicks his wrist on the upstroke. 

“Fuck, sorry,” Chris chokes, completely torn between remaining polite and professional or just giving into the tight heat around him. He can smell Felix, sweet and tangible on his tongue. 

“No need to apologize. It’s quite the compliment when a handsome alpha like you is shaking and gasping from just my hands.” Felix’s words are light, almost teasing. He directs his gaze to meet Chris’ eyes, starry and bright, excited. “Imagine if it was my pussy milking your cock instead, hm? How long would you last before you popped your knot?” 

Chris throws his head back and moans, broken, the edges of his vision blurring at the thought of fucking into a hot, messy hole. He imagines Felix on top, riding his cock nice and slow, blonde hair falling over his eyes as he rolls his hips. The thought spurs Chris on, his cock throbbing and leaking in Felix’s grip. 

“I can smell, hah, are you—lemme see, please,” Chris begs, all senses going haywire. 

Felix giggles, giddy as he angles his hips towards Chris and spreads his legs, exposing the slick-wet fabric between his thighs. The cotton is so thin, sticking to his folds and leaving nothing to the imagination. “Think of all the fertile omegas just waiting to be bred. Desperate for you cum, warm and thick in their cunts. Are you going to give them what they want?”

“Yeah, yes,” Chris whines. He’s nearing delirium at this point, eager to touch and leave his mark. Nothing, no one has ever made him feel such greed before, the desire to breed and fuck and claim.

“Are you going to give me what I want, Chris?”

One more swipe of a thumb over his slit, one more squeeze around the swell of his knot and Chris is gone. He barely registers the thick ropes of cum painting his thighs and running down Felix’s knuckles, doesn’t think twice as the omega collects what he can with a cup and screws the lid on tight. He does, however, with torturous clarity, watch Felix lick the remnants of his cum from his fingers and hum pleasantly at the taste. 

Once everything else is cleaned up and Chris is working to blink himself back into reality, Felix stands and jots something down on the clipboard. 

“If I have anything to say about it, and I do, you should expect to hear from us with your test results in a few days,” Felix says, transitioning smoothly back into professionalism, eyes sparkling—

“Until next time, Christopher.”

Chapter Text

The grating sound of sharpened steel dragging against concrete sends what feels like hundreds of spiders scattering down Felix’s spine. Footsteps follow, their slow yet steady pace creating reverberated echoes through the hollow building. 

Just an hour ago, Felix was on a date with someone he met at the grocery store of all places a few weeks prior. Good looking, charming, his smile crooked but striking. He had wooed Felix with ease, complimenting his style and showing genuine interest in the small tangents Felix often got lost on. They had dinner and dessert. He offered to walk Felix home. 

And then he pulled out the knife. 

Felix had never seen anything so chilling, the steel polished and clearly well taken care of. 

“Chan?” he had asked, swallowing his immediate panic, refusing to take a step back to show he wasn’t afraid. Surely he just missed something, a joke or maybe even a lame magic trick. Why else would his date be twirling a hunting knife between his fingers?

“I’m really glad you agreed to meet with me this evening, Felix,” Chan said. He stepped under the streetlamp, the light cascading down and throwing shadows over his face, accentuating his crooked smile. It was still striking, but his teeth seemed sharper, his eyes wide and wild. “I had a great time…and I think you did too.”

Felix doesn’t know where he went wrong. They weren’t close enough to Felix’s apartment for him to slip inside the door and lock it behind him. The side street was empty aside from the two of them. 

“I…I did. Thank you for the meal,” he replied, his shaky voice betraying him, fight or flight kicking in as he watched Chan run his fingertip over the blade. Words spilled from his trembling lips. “It’s pretty late, haha. You’re probably tired! I can make my way home from here.”

They way Chan’s eyes had snapped up to him, pupils blown, the warm chocolate brown of his irises merely a memory at that point. 

Felix took a step back when Chan moved closer. A game of push and pull until Chan had him pressed against a brick wall. 

“Nonsense. Wouldn’t want something terrible to happen to you.”

Felix ran. Chan let him.

Now, his clouded breath is the only thing he can see in the freezing moonlit interior of some unused storefront. It’s not a large space, but it’s crowded, filled with wooden crates and concrete walls he can hide behind. 

“There’s no need to hide, Felix!” Chan’s voice booms, ricocheting off the walls. “Truly, I’d hate for our date to end on such a poor note.” 

Felix squeezes his eyes shut. What do people in his position do in horror movies? Of course, he wouldn’t know, having never successfully sat through an entire scary movie before begging someone to turn it off. He can barely watch action films without jumping at every loud noise. 

Slowly, Chan’s footsteps grow lighter, moving farther away. 

Felix is quick. He could probably make a run for it. That idea is better than freezing his ass off in here any longer and risk getting caught with a knife through his chest. Chan isn’t that much bigger than him either, broader, more filled out with muscle, but Felix has to be faster. He’s about to take the chance when Chan speaks again, his words coming from seemingly every direction. 

“How about this?” Steel scrapes across a metal pipe, sharp and unpleasant. “If you can make it to the exit without getting caught, I’ll let you go. I’ll even give you a head start. If I reach you before then…well. I promise to make it worthwhile.”

Felix doesn’t even know what that means. He doesn’t have the energy or desire to figure it out either. He’d like to think he’s not stupid. Still, he can’t help but feel that way when he speaks, “Ten seconds. G-Give me ten seconds.”

Chan snickers. “I only need five.”

Felix counts in his head. 

One. 

He takes his first step into the light, silent. Eyes scanning in every direction. 

Two.  

His worn sneakers slip on the smooth concrete floor, but he rights himself, one foot in front of the other until he’s sprinting past metal shelves and old machinery. 

Three. 

The door has an illuminated exit sign right above, bright red flickering like a beacon. Behind him, there’s a thud. 

Four. 

He’s already closer than he thought he’d be by now, just a few more meters. A laugh of relief bubbles in his throat. 

Five. 

The doorknob is ice cold in his hand, and for a moment he’s terrified that it’s locked, but it turns. An inch. 

Six. 

There’s a knife pressed to his throat. A warm body caging him against the door. 

“Looks like I won.”

Felix doesn’t remember much after that. 

Chapter Text

Chan is trying to pay attention. He really, truly is. 

“The essay instructions were vague as hell, so I don’t even know what my prof expected in the first place,” Felix whines, lips pursed around a pink and white lollipop. It’s the kind that has bubblegum in the middle, which is honestly a little strange to Chan, but they’ve always been Felix’s favorite. The blonde taps the candy against his lower lip in thought and Chan’s eyes gloss over at the sight. “Sungie said he got a higher score and you and I both know he probably wrote it in under an hour! I swear this woman hates me.”

“Uh-huh,” Chan hums, nodding because he thinks that’s probably what he should be doing. Proper supportive boyfriend behavior. He doesn’t notice Felix’s raised brow. Or his narrowed eyes. Just the pretty shapes his lips make when he talks.

“And when I asked her about my grade, she told me I could scrap the whole thing and try again…”

“Right,” Chan agrees. Right right right. Felix pushes the lollipop into his cheek with his tongue, the freckled skin bulging over the round shape. Chan is reminded of Felix, just last night, mouth full of cock, cheeks full of cum. He swallowed, stuck his tongue out to show Chan the proof.

“…but only if I spoke to the magical space giraffe with blue and purple spots. Only then would I…”

Has Felix’s tongue always been so pink? So wet too. Maybe it’s stained from the candy, maybe Chan needs to taste and find out. Lick over Felix’s teeth and the roof of his mouth until all he can taste is himself.

“Chan. Chris,” Felix says.

“Yeah, for sure,” is Chan’s clever reply. He wonders how Felix would look sucking on a popsicle, if he could take it like he takes Chan. Something red and cherry flavored. Long and thick enough to fill his mouth and breach his throat. He’d be cold afterwards, but Chan would know how to warm him up. 

“Are you going to kiss me or are you just going to continue drooling and staring at my mouth?”

Chan blinks and blinks some more. Kiss? They should kiss. God, he wants to kiss Felix so fucking bad—

“You’re such a loser,” Felix laughs, punching Chan in the arm lightly with his curled up fist. 

Oh, he said that out loud. 

Good thing it doesn’t matter, because he suddenly has a lap full of boyfriend and a sticky lollipop pressed to his own lips. He opens his mouth obediently when Felix raises his eyebrows expectantly and licks over the candy like he would Felix’s cute little cock. Tastes good. Like strawberries and cream. 

“M’not a loser,” he mumbles, whining when Felix takes the candy away and swipes it over his lips until they’re shiny and messy with sugar. “I just love you a lot.”

“You can love me a lot and still be a loser,” Felix states matter-of-factly with a sweet smile, pressing the words into Chan’s exaggerated pout, coaxing him into a proper kiss until strawberries and cream are replaced with Chan and Felix.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chris doesn’t hear Felix come in. 

It’s late, almost one in the morning according to the time on his monitor. An upbeat track plays in his headphones, something he’s been working on for an up-and-coming girl group set to debut in a few months. They wanted something inspired by the late-90s, when Chris was a quarter of a century younger and still a few years away from becoming a father. 

He feels cold, clammy fingers around the nape of his neck. Pressing into stiff muscles, playing with his curls, touching him with too much softness, too much familiarity. Chris slips the headphones off, displacing his son’s touch, and plasters a smile onto his face. 

“Hey, kid,” he greets, cheerful because he has to be. 

“Appa,” Felix pouts. His eyes are glossy, the skin around them red and blotchy. Fingers move to Chris’ shoulder, clutching onto him like prickly burs after walking through a field of wildflowers. 

Chris ignores the fragility of that word. Clears his throat and asks, “How was your night? Did you have a good time on your date?” When Felix tries to turn Chris around in his rolling desk chair, he curls his toes into the carpet, latches onto the edge of his desk and doesn’t budge. 

“Dad,” Felix whines this time, voice wet and pleading, clawing at Chris’ heart. 

Still, he tries. “Went and saw a movie, right? I’ll bet that was fun.” 

When Felix was younger, they’d go see a movie in theaters every Friday night. The latest family friendly animation when he was five, often watching it three weeks in a row because that’s what Felix wanted. Superhero blockbusters when he was nine, oohing and ahhing at the explosions and high speed chases. His very first horror movie when he was fourteen, too prideful to admit how much it scared him despite clinging to Chris’ sleeve the entire time. Romance dramas when he turned eighteen, eyes flashing with something Chris had never seen before, something delicate and vulnerable and hot on the side of his face whenever he would catch Felix looking at him instead of the screen.

It’s been almost three years since they went to the movies together. 

Felix pulls on his chair again, insistent, not used to being denied what he wants, no matter how little that thing may be. Chris saves his program, squeezes his eyes shut and counts to five. 

“It was fine,” his son mumbles. So whiny, so petulant. “Can you look at me please?”

No. 

Chris looks. Felix chooses that moment to let his bottom lip slip from between his teeth, little fangs leaving him swollen and shiny with spit. He looks so much like her. Eyes wide and expectant. She’d look at him like this when she wanted to get fucked. 

“Look at me,” Felix begs. His voice cracks and drives a nail deep into the splinters riddling Chris’ ribcage. 

“I’m looking. I see you, baby,” he assures and finally lets himself be turned in his seat. Lets Felix bully his legs apart so he can stand in the empty space between them. The only line of defense he has are his arms crossed protectively over his chest.

Felix is dressed like a whore. In ratty cut-off jean shorts and black fishnet stockings, a loose cotton t-shirt that falls off his left shoulder. Maybe it’s not the clothing’s fault. Maybe his son is the problem. 

“He took me to some shitty diner,” Felix says, picking at the strings hanging over his pale thighs. “Movie was shit too, but I let him fuck me in his car afterwards anyway.” He shrugs, but his eyes stay trained on his father’s face. He wants a reaction, but Chris offers him nothing. 

If he did, if he slipped even a little bit, Felix would take everything he had to give. 

“Neither of us had a condom so…” Chris’ right eye twitches and Felix sinks his claws deeper. “Didn’t let him cum inside though, made him pull out and finish on my back.” Each added detail from Felix’s mouth drips down Chris’ throat like black sludge, filling his stomach until all he can taste and smell is tar, sticky and acidic. 

He didn’t raise Felix to act this way. He’s not responsible for this. And yet, there’s no one else to blame. 

“Right,” Chris says, clearing his throat. “It’s late. I’m going to bed.” When he uncrosses his arms and grabs the armrests to stand, Felix climbs into his lap. Smothers him, presses their bodies together chest to crotch and inhales Chris’ day-old cologne.

He had to start locking the door to his room when he wasn’t home. Too many clothes gone missing, too many things obviously out of place. Like he wanted Chris to know. 

“I tried, Daddy,” Felix says, so, so pitiful. “I thanked him for the food and the movie and the sex. I asked when we could see each other next,” his lower lip wobbles, inches from where Chris’ own are stretched into a thin line. “You wanna know what he said?”

“I–”

“He told me I was too much, too needy. Said he didn’t wanna date someone like me,” Felix cries, the first wave of tears welling in his waterline and slipping down his ruddy cheeks. “Why would he say that?”

He knows. Chris knows. His son is beautiful and smart and kind. He’s gentle and naive, but he’s not stupid. He’s scared of the dark, but obsessed with the monsters that lurk in the shadows. There’s so much love inside of him, bursting at the seams, desperate to bloom and flourish, to be given space to grow and spread. He is not unlike a flower, but his heart is engulfed in flames. It’s those flames that burn everything they touch, leaving ashes and crumbled remains in their wake. 

And Chris is the only one who can understand such a thing, because that fire sprouted from his own dying embers. 

“I don’t know, Felix,” Chris says, straightening his spine in an effort to create even a centimeter of distance between them. “He just wasn’t the one, I guess.” 

“But they’re all the same!” Felix growls. Anger and confusion seep into his starry eyes. “They tell me I’m pretty, so I give them my number. They tell me I’m beautiful, so I go on their shitty dates. They tell me I’m gorgeous, so I open my legs and let them take.” He’s breathing hard, the rise and fall of his chest erratic and uneven. “And yet none of them will love me.”

Chris is about to speak, to initiate damage control and remind Felix how none of them matter. To lie if he has to, anything to get his son out of his lap and off the ledge of whatever bridge he’s teetering the both of them over. 

Felix doesn’t let him. 

“They don’t love me like you,” he whispers, reverent, like he’s just now realizing the weight of such an indisputable truth. Except it’s all a game, one that Chris can never seem to win. 

“Felix,” he says, gentle. “It’s time to go to bed.” 

With dark eyes, his son paws at his chest. “Let me sleep with you tonight.” 

“No,” he says, sharp. He wishes he could be one of Felix’s dates, someone who doesn’t matter. Not for his own benefit, not because he wants to hold his son down and take, but because he prays for the day Felix ends this relentless torture. “Get up.”

Felix rolls his hips, sighs, and forces more tears to fall. “I just wanna be loved, Daddy. Please love me.” 

“I do,” Chris whispers. Because of course he does. Every mad scientist falls in love with their creation. “I do, baby.” 

“You don’t,” his son cries. Cries and cries and twists his fingers into Chris’ rumpled button-down shirt. “You don’t, d-don’t love me how I want, how I need—”

“Enough of that,” Chris begs. He’s so, so tired.

Felix ruts his hardening cock against Chris’ abdomen, shuddering at the friction. “Just one more time, one last time, appa, please. I don’t want to feel him anymore.” His tears are crystalline, diamonds on his freckled cheeks. Chris twitches in his trousers. 

One last time.  

How many times has he heard that before?

He hopes that whoever is watching him from above doesn’t think he’s weak. That he gives in too easily. They couldn’t possibly know how hard he tries. Resist him. Love him hard, but from a distance. Be his father, a shoulder he can cry on, but push him away once his tears have dried. Replace his mother, do it all, be his everything. Raise him right and let him go. 

Chris doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to do that. 

Not when Felix opens up for him so perfectly. On his fingers, his cock, bent over and pressed face down into his father’s desk. Nevermind that he’s been fucked already tonight, Chris will wipe it all away and replace that ungrateful touch with his own. 

He fucks him nice and slow. Raw. Mesmerized by the way his greedy hole sucks him in, how Felix clenches around him and sobs into scattered paperwork. Felix arches his back and begs for more. He thanks him. Over and over again like a broken record. 

Felix lets his father cum inside, desperate to be claimed, to know there are parts of his body no one else will ever know quite so intimately. 

And Chris cries, unbeknownst to his blood and flesh below, tears falling and mixing with beads of sweat on bruised, pale skin. He watches his seed drip down Felix’s thighs and hates that he loves how upset Felix gets when it goes to waste. Hates that he loves how Felix wishes he could stay full and filled, forever on his father’s cock. 

Because at this rate, he will be. 

Chapter Text

Felix grumbles as his feet touch the floor, hissing through his teeth as he puts weight on his legs, inner thighs sore and tender, cunt throbbing.

Behind him, Chan snickers. 

“What?” Felix asks, peering over his shoulder at the man still sprawled out on their bed. Chan looks too good for someone covered in cum and sweat. 

“You look like a penguin,” Chan says, running a hand through his damp curls. He eyes Felix’s naked body hungrily, as if he didn’t just fuck the living daylights out of him. “Waddling around.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Felix snaps, all bark and no bite. He continues his waddle of shame to the bathroom, leans his weight against the cool tile wall and starts the shower. Waits until the hot water steams up the mirror to slip underneath its spray. 

He has exactly eleven seconds of peace, enough to wash the sweat from his shoulders and chest, before Chan slips in behind him. Wraps his arms around Felix’s waist and pulls them flush together. 

“I was just about to pee,” Felix whines, “you have to get out.”

Chan steps back from under the showerhead, bringing Felix with him. He jostles Felix in his arms, swaying them back and forth with a shit-eating smile. “Eww, you pee in the shower? Gross.” 

Felix rolls his eyes, too tired to physically fight back. “Everyone pees in the shower. Anyone who says they don’t is a liar.” 

Wandering fingers ghost over Felix’s nipples and down his chest. Chan thumbs at his soft stomach, at the sparkly blue gem adorning his belly button, and hums against his ear. “Go on then.”

“Well, I can’t now. You’re here,” Felix points out. Truth be told, he’s not above pissing right here and now. He can feel the pressure in his bladder, the weight of it just the slightest bit uncomfortable. Except, he genuinely can’t, not when other people are around. And Chan knows this, knows Felix can’t just let go. 

“Sure you can,” Chan teases nonetheless. His hands keep wandering, drifting lower until one wide palm lies flat over Felix’s bladder and presses down. Felix groans and rests his head back on Chan’s shoulder, a low curse bubbling up and out of his throat. “Come on, honey. I know you want to.” 

“Fuck you,” Felix whines. 

“You want me to?” Chan asks, lips warm and wet against Felix’s neck. “Maybe you just need some help, hm?”

Felix mewls when Chan pushes a thick finger through his folds. He’s still so sensitive from being speared open on Chan’s cock. Small aftershocks sizzle under his skin, a dull pain that bleeds into sweet pleasure. Chan nudges his legs further apart with his foot and bears down, holding both of them up as he sinks two fingers into Felix’s pussy and slowly curls them upwards. 

Cum drips out of him and onto Chan’s hand, messy and warm. His hips buck and his foot slips but Chan continues to hold them steady. Felix pants, “Chan, please.” 

His boyfriend kisses his cheek, plush lips pulled into a mean smile. “Close already?”

He is, but he’s shy. Feels flayed and exposed, boneless and unable to control his own jellied limbs. Felix is desperate for release, teetering over the edge but unable to fall. Luckily, Chan is tuned unfairly well to Felix’s body, always has been and always will be. 

More pressure is applied to his bladder, making Felix almost double over at the waist. Chan circles his thumb over Felix’s clit and doesn’t let up until he’s shaking and whining and pushed past his limit. 

They both sigh as liquid warmth covers their lower halves. Felix watches it splatter against Chan’s hand, something in him settling at the way it runs down their skin in rivulets before disappearing down the drain. Chan stays solid and firm behind him, hard cock hot against his lower back. Felix thinks about swiveling his hips and letting Chan replace his fingers with his cock just so he can cum again. 

“Good boy,” Chan whispers, loving and perfect. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Chapter Text

The King slips into his chamber, silently, like he always does. 

Chan doesn’t tear his eyes away from the ceiling. Counts the same fourteen cracks one more time, their web-like pattern set in stone. He’s acutely aware of the new wave of pheromones surging in through the vents along the floor. It’s entirely unnecessary. He could smell Felix as he approached from the hallway. Jasmine and vanilla. Chan’s hard cock throbs, painful and desperate between his chained legs. 

“Alpha,” the King greets, voice deep and syrupy in Chan’s ear. He touches Chan with careful fingers. Runs them up and down his arm, his bare chest and torso. “Forgive me for taking so long. Council was never-ending. Some alphas simply do not know when to shut up.” 

It doesn’t take long before Felix strips himself of his robes, crimson satin pooling at his feet. Chan could paint the omega’s lithe body from memory ten times over, each brushstroke a reflection of every time Felix has come to see him. Countless days and nights. Every time the same. 

Chan wouldn’t consider himself a prisoner. He’s treated much too well for that. Three hearty meals a day. Pampered baths to keep him fresh and clean for the King. He was hand-chosen for this after all. Picked from a long line of offerings. Still, at the end of the day, he remains chained. Only good for one thing. 

Felix is kind as both a king and a lover. His touches are gentle and reverent to ensure he gives as much as he takes. Chan is lucky. 

“What a gift it is, alpha, to know you are always here when I need you,” Felix whispers as he settles himself in Chan’s lap, hands resting on the alpha’s abdomen. Slick drips from his hole, down his inner thighs and onto Chan’s eager cock, sticky and shimmery gold. Chan groans when Felix grips him around the base and lines them up, the slightest touch intoxicating, like sweet poison in his veins.

He doesn’t often speak, although he knows the King likes it when he does. This time, he can’t help but hiss through clenched teeth when Felix sinks down onto him. “Y-Your Majesty,” Chan pants, voice hoarse from hours of silence. 

“Yes?” Felix asks, eyes wide with anticipation. “Tell me. How does it feel?”

Tight, hot, wet. Always. Felix trusts him too much. Chan should be muzzled lest he lean up and bite. He could do it so easily too, sink his teeth into royal skin and claim the omega who plagues his ever-waking thought. Maybe, secretly, that’s what Felix wants. The thrill that this caged alpha will do what he does best and ruin Felix for anyone else. Nevermind how he’d be executed on the spot. Nevermind how Chan longs for a taste of noble blood. 

“So perfect,” Chan chokes, delirious. “Sweet omega.”

Felix clenches around him, a wild grin tugging at his plush mouth. “I can be your omega,” he teases, coy, before leaning down to connect their lips in a hungry kiss. Chan accepts his greedy tongue, whining as Felix licks over his teeth, the roof of his mouth. “But do not forget I am your King above all else.” 

“My King.” Chan repeats it like a mantra, voice slurred but obedient, until the words take root in his mind. 

“Gods, I love your cock,” Felix moans, head thrown back, his white-blonde hair cascading down his dainty shoulders. “Better than anyone else, the best I’ve ever had.” He swivels his hips like the devil, a certain madness taking over his being as he chases his pleasure. Chan yearns to grab Felix’s hips and flip them over, to drive his cock into Felix’s wet heat and prove his worth as an alpha, as so much more. 

Because after months of constant pleasure and praise, of knowing he’s the only one the King seeks out when he’s stressed or angry or just looking to get fucked, Chan is addicted. The kind of addiction one feels that’s undefined. Is it love or merely obsession? Is he blinded by illusion or does his heart ring true? 

Felix writhes in his lap, mumbles nonsense into Chan’s mouth and cums with a high-pitched sob. His release paints the both of them in pearly white ropes, warm and thick as it drips between the ridges of muscle on Chan’s torso. At this point, Chan expects Felix to pull off. Sometimes he’ll finish Chan off with his hand, but if he’s lucky—he’ll get his mouth. Confusion rocks through him when Felix doesn’t do either of those things. Instead, he bears down, glittering with sweat, his ethereal face pinched slightly in overstimulation. 

“Give me your knot, alpha,” he whines, hips stuttering but determined. “I need it. Give it to me.” 

Those words alone pull Chan to the edge. He hasn’t been able to knot anything in what feels like a lifetime. His instincts take over and he bucks his hips, grinds upwards into Felix’s eager body until his knot swells and pops past his slick rim. He growls, canines sharp, gums aching, and pumps the omega full of his cum. His alpha goes haywire and the chains that have been keeping his hands and feet bound groan with the weight of his straining muscles. Felix is boneless on top of him, mouthing sweetly at Chan’s neck.

“Feli—Your Majesty,” Chan corrects himself, every part of him tense. 

He blinks and his hands are free. Felix tosses the key somewhere on the bed and collapses back into Chan’s chest, spent and trembling. Slowly, carefully, Chan wraps his arms around the King’s waist and exhales into his sweat-damp hair. He holds him close, muscles flexing and bringing him closer every time Felix lets out a shaky breath. They don’t speak for the entire hour it takes for Chan’s knot to deflate. They don’t talk about the cum seeping from Felix’s hole or the implication it has. They don’t mention the way the omega keeps mouthing at Chan’s neck, teeth scraping against skin but not hard enough to break it. 

Felix finally pulls away when Chan begins to doze off, slipping out of the room as silently as he came in. 

Chapter Text

Chan is a happy drunk. All giggly and touchy, his crooked smile soft and relaxed. 

It’s not something Felix has ever seen before. He’s always been completely respectful of Chan’s self-imposed title as their designated driver, but it’s just the two of them tonight, alone, and so Felix was able to convince Chan to share a bottle of whiskey with him to celebrate one year together. 

They’ve been together all day, watching old rom-coms while cuddling on the couch before sharing Felix’s homemade dinner and dessert. When Felix pulled out the high-end bottle from the top cabinet, all he had to do was pout and flutter his lashes.

Now, Felix continues to nurse his first glass from his side of the couch while Chan finishes his second. Chan had wrinkled his nose after his initial sip, but now he takes long swigs of the golden liquor, pink tongue swiping over his bottom lip to collect the stray drops. Felix fights the urge to lean in and do it for him, to taste the bitter alcohol mixed with Chan’s warm skin. 

Chan stretches his legs, ankles crossing around one of Felix’s own. He tilts his head and smiles lazily, perfect teeth on display. “I love you so much,” he sighs. “How’d I get so fucking lucky?”

Felix melts. If not from the whiskey in his system, then the heat behind Chan’s half-lidded eyes, the weight of his gaze like a brand on Felix’s skin. “I love you too, bubby,” Felix says with so much sincerity it hurts. He sets his glass down on the coffee table, “If anyone’s lucky here, it’s me.” 

“Mm,” Chan hums, thinking, eyes flickering from Felix’s exposed collarbones to his bare legs. For a heart-racing moment, Felix thinks Chan is going to pounce on him, but all he does is place his own empty glass onto the table and pick Felix’s up instead. He licks over the rim, right where Felix’s mouth was minutes before and downs the rest of it, eyes never leaving Felix’s blushed face. He sets the glass back down carefully and settles deeper into the couch. “If only you knew,” he whispers, as if the words are for him and no one else. 

Of course, Felix hears him, curiosity piqued. “Knew what?”

Chan shakes his head and laughs, deep and dark. His eyelashes flutter, irises flashing something different and unreadable after every slow blink, and sits up lightning fast to wrap his hands around Felix’s ankles. “The things I want to do to you.”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Felix asks, easily joining in on Chan’s game. Heat curls in his belly as the anticipation rises. He was hoping their night would end with something even sweeter than dessert. 

Silence stretches between them, heavy and tense. Felix is tempted to spread his legs and skip all the foreplay, but Chan tightens his fingers around Felix’s ankles and his expression shifts into something eerily calm. Like he finally has Felix right where he wants him. 

“I want…to hold you,” Chan begins, inhaling sharply through his nose, “and never let go.”

Okay? That’s nothing he hasn’t said to Felix before. “Then don’t,” Felix says, a shy giggle leaving his red-bitten lips. He covers Chan’s hands with his own and squeezes, encouraging.

“I want you all the time, Lixie,” he continues. “I wanna lock you away, keep you all to myself.” Wavy curls fall over his forehead, so unfairly handsome. Felix opens his mouth to speak, to play along, but it’s as if the floodgates have opened and Chan is just getting started. He surges forward, spreads Felix’s legs and crawls between them, stares down at the blonde with wild, hungry eyes. “You’d look so pretty tied up, honey. Blindfolded and gagged so you couldn’t see a thing, so you couldn’t call out for help. I’d keep you on my cock for hours. Take turns between your hole and your mouth, as long as I get to be inside you.” 

Felix furrows his brows. The heat in his core turns heavy and cold. Sure, they’ve experimented in the bedroom; Felix shared his love of blindfolds early on in their relationship and Chan introduced him to the intimacy of cockwarming—but. But they’ve never talked about something like this. 

“You’d cry at first. You’d sob and beg, but it wouldn’t matter. Even if you screamed yourself hoarse or thrashed until you passed out, I’d still keep going. It would just make things easier,” Chan says, voice so certain, so sure of himself. “Sometimes I think about spiking your drink, just a little something to keep you malleable and quiet.” His eyes track Felix’s movements, at the way the blonde glances nervously at their empty glasses on the table. “No, I wouldn’t. Not so soon. You bought that yourself, remember?”

It’s the alcohol talking, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying. Felix never questioned why Chan didn’t drink around him. He would have never guessed this was the reason. 

“Why are you crying, baby?” Chan asks, swiping his thumb over Felix’s wet cheek. “It’s our anniversary. I love you so much. Aren’t you happy?”

Felix nods, but only because it’s Chan’s hand cupping his jaw and forcing his head to move, up and down. He touches him gently, with so much love. 

“Y-Yeah,” Felix croaks, tears salty on his tongue. “S-So happy.” 

—

Hours later, Felix hums to himself as he puts the rest of the ‘whiskey’ back into the fridge. White grape juice with a drop of orange food coloring. Chan had applauded him for how realistic it looked. His boyfriend is still on the couch, quiet, likely overthinking all the things he said even after they had a thorough debrief; if it was okay, if he went too far. 

“Ready for bed, bubby?” Felix asks, carding his fingers through the downy hair at Chan’s nape and smiling when he shivers. 

Chan catches Felix’s hand and intertwines their fingers. “Hm, m’coming.” 

Felix leans down to kiss below his ear, knowing Chan will always need a bit of extra reassurance, that of which he’s happy to provide. “I really did love it, you know. Can’t wait for you to make it real.” 

“Yeah?” Chan smiles, dimples deep and lovely. “Me neither.”

Chapter Text

“Sorry, no doubles,” says the bored looking teen behind the check-in desk. She blows a bubble in her bright pink gum until it pops, her eyes stopping on all four of them individually before she continues, “We only have two singles available for tonight.” 

It’s late. They only stopped driving because of the rain, heavy and wild enough for Minho to insist they call it a night.

Felix watches his older brother tap his credit card against the ugly maplewood counter, once, twice, three times, and then turn around with a sigh. “I’ll room with Yongbokkie,” he decides, not necessarily bothered, but obviously less than pleased. “Sungie, you go with Chan.” 

Jisung, always one to go with the flow, shrugs and slings his backpack over his shoulder. “Sure, jagi,” he yawns, rocking on his heels and side-stepping until he’s shoulder to shoulder with a confused looking Chan. 

A wave of relief sings through Felix’s veins. Rooming with his brother is lame, but he’d rather that than be stuck sharing a bed with Chan. He’s known the guy pretty much all his life, but they’ve never been super close. Being the best friend’s younger brother kinda calls for such a thing. Unfortunately, it also means Felix has had a horrible, tortuous, gay crush on him ever since he was a kid. 

“Hey now,” Chan interrupts, a light laugh following his words, “I’m no cockblock, okay? Felix and I can room together,” he says, slapping a hand on Felix’s shoulder hard enough to make the younger jump. “You two lovebirds go ahead and do whatever freaky shit you’ve been suppressing over the past twelve hours.” 

Jisung shuffles over to Minho’s side, suddenly much more awake.

Please say no. Please say no. Felix practically burns his silent plea into Minho’s forehead. Chan’s hand is still on his shoulder, fingers massaging the tense muscle. 

Minho looks like he’s about to protest, not the part about the freaky shit—gross—but perhaps he has a little bit of mercy for Felix. He wasn’t even supposed to be on this trip in the first place. It was just going to be Minho, Jisung, and Chan to celebrate their recent college graduation, but their parents insisted Felix tag along. Something about brotherly bonding and gaining real-world experience. 

Chan speaks up again, pulling Felix into his side and snatching a keycard from the counter. “We’ll be okay, won’t we, Lix?” 

Minho raises an eyebrow and wraps an arm around Jisung’s waist.

If Felix says no, he’s the worst brother ever. If he says yes, he’s not going to survive the night. 

“Uhh, someone still needs to pay for the rooms,” the teen juts in, chin propped on her hand, clearly not amused by their lollygagging. 

Before he knows it, Felix is being pulled away by the arm, eyes wide and jaw slack as Chan waves goodbye over his shoulder. “Thanks so much for covering that, Min! See you guys in the morning!”

❃

Chan sleeps in his underwear. 

Felix should have known. Chan was always the type to walk around without a shirt if he could help it. In and out of the swimming pool in their backyard, riding his bike up and down the street. Bare torso and arms on full display as if he wasn’t the sole cause of Felix’s gay awakening. Felix pulls the sheets higher up his chest, covering his ratty t-shirt and Scooby-Doo sleep pants, and doesn’t move his gaze away from an oddly realistic dick-shaped water stain on the ceiling.

“I usually don’t even wear these,” Chan says, letting out a relaxed groan as he flops face-first onto the full-sized bed. It’s not even a queen. They’re an entire five inches closer than Felix had originally mentally prepared for. Only two pillows as well, no chance to build a plush barrier between them. “But I figured I’d keep it decent for your sake, aye?”

Thank god for small blessings, Felix thinks. He’s jostled around as Chan gets more comfortable, wiggling and fluffing his pillow, stretching his arms over his head and rolling from his stomach to his side before finally settling on his back. 

“Sleep tight,” the elder wishes, flipping the switch on the bedside lamp, “don’t let the bed bugs bite or whatever.”

“Night, hyung,” Felix whispers back.

After a few minutes and against Felix’s better judgment, he sneaks a peek at Chan in his peripheral vision. He’s sprawled on top of the sheets, defined abdomen rising and falling in slow breaths, hands folded atop his belly button. His fried blonde curls fan out over the pillow, creating the illusion of a halo around his head. If he was an angel, Felix would get down on his knees and worship the ground he walked on.

Wow, okay, definitely not helping the situation even a little bit. 

Their eyes meet, or, at least Felix is pretty sure Chan catches him looking. He snaps his attention back to the ceiling and closes his eyes, heart pounding below the sheets. 

He can feel Chan shift closer. It makes Felix’s frame dip towards the center of the bed where it’s warmer, heat radiating from Chan’s body like a furnace. 

A pause, and then. “Do I make you nervous, Lixie?” Chan’s voice is pitched low, a teasing lilt coating his words. 

“Whaaat?” Felix scoffs under his breath. “No way.” He’s going to implode.

“Riiiight,” is Chan’s reply, not quite condescending, but said with enough disbelief that it makes Felix feel all hot and clammy. “S’cool. I’ll bet you're the big man on campus, huh? Little Felix Lee out there getting allllll the pussy.” Chan giggles to himself as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. He never would have been so crude when they were younger, always polite, always the voice of reason amongst his brother’s complete lack of a filter. But then again, he was president of a fraternity in college. Too much testosterone and toxic masculinity can probably do that to a person. 

Felix doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this point. Instead of either of those two options, he can’t seem to keep his mouth shut. “It’s not like that…” he begins, but ultimately trails off, not sure what he could say without actually saying it. Haha, nope! No pussy for me! I’m more of a dick lover myself, thanks.

Chan is too perceptive for his own good. “Oh?” he chirps, shuffling until he’s facing Felix on his side. “You like cock then? That’s chill, bro.” 

The weight of Chan’s gaze is suffocating. He is nervous. More so than he was just minutes before. Felix talks when he’s nervous. 

“I’ve never done—or like, been with someone—um. Yeah.”

Honestly, if god chose to strike Felix down right here and now, it’d be for the best. 

Chan’s entire demeanor changes in an instant. All that playfulness and teasing is sucked out of the room, replaced with heavy silence. Felix finally looks at Chan. Moonlight shines through the curtains and casts shadows over Chan’s calculating expression. There’s a nightlight in the bathroom too, yellow and shaped like a seashell. 

The elder clears his throat. His eyes flicker over Felix’s face in the dark. When did they get so close? 

“You’ve never…?”

“No,” Felix whispers. “Not even a kiss.” 

Calloused fingers brush over Felix’s elbow. “That’s…I mean, that’s okay. Of course it is,” Chan says, gently. He’s never been so gentle with Felix before. 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Felix murmurs, feeling the lightest weight lift from his shoulders. 

“No, right.” Chan shakes his head, frizzy curls flopping into his eyes. “It’s kinda hot if I’m being honest.”

Oh.

Felix furrows his brows. “What?”

“Can I?” Chan asks. “Kiss you?”

Felix isn’t a kid anymore. He knows Chan’s intentions could be far from good or genuine, but he doesn’t really give a fuck about that right now. He’s dreamt of kissing Chan ever since he was eleven and Chan was fourteen. When he was just beginning to understand what it meant to like boys instead of girls. And as he turned sixteen and Chan was heading off to college, still without his first kiss, Felix thought maybe if he just waited. Just a little longer. 

His eyes slip closed as he nods his head, trying to slow his breathing and play it off as if he isn’t about to vibrate out of his skin. 

“No, baby,” Chan laughs, not unkindly, the sound sending a chill down Felix’s spine. A hand cups his chin, firm, and the warm pad of Chan’s thumb presses into his bottom lip. “I need you to say it.” 

“Yes,” Felix gasps, desperation rising in his throat. “Kiss me. Please. I—” he pauses, contemplates the weight of his confession, but pushes past hesitation. “I’ve always wanted it to be you.”

Chan’s lips are chapped and dry, pressed to Felix’s own for only a brief moment. He takes Felix’s breath with him when he pulls away, effortlessly stealing it from his lungs. There aren’t fireworks, but something warm thrums under Felix’s skin, something exciting and new. Falling into Chan is natural, like his body knows what to do as long as Chan is there to guide him. 

Felix whines and chases after Chan for more. A quiet hush ghosts over his lips before they connect again, this time for longer, the taste far sweeter. Chan eases the sheets off of Felix’s shaking frame to wrap both arms around his waist and manhandle him until Felix is clumsily straddling his thighs. He pushes forward, out of his element but loving it, high on the wetness of Chan’s mouth and the heat of his tight grip.

“You waited for me, yeah?” Chan asks, his smile pressed to Felix’s cheek. “So hyung could be your first?” He swallows Felix’s answering whimper and groans, hands wandering down the younger’s sides, over his twitching hips and down to grab two palmfuls of his ass. “How sweet of you, baby. Hyung waited for you too.”

Felix pulls back with wide eyes. “You did? Y-You haven’t eith–?”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself now,” Chan chuckles, “One of has to have experience, right? How else would I teach you? Gotta make sure my baby is in capable hands when I show him how to be a good boy and take my cock for the first time.”

So many thoughts fill Felix’s head at once, swirling around in flashes of pleasure and anxiety. Those nerves jump in his chest when Chan rolls his hips upwards and Felix feels him, all of him, hard and impossibly big between his aching thighs. “Oh. Um,” Felix falters, “I don’t know if I’m ready for—to take—”

“Shhh,” Chan soothes. He gropes Felix’s ass and lines them up by the groin, the friction of their hard cocks grinding together has Felix seeing stars. His lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes open, unwilling to miss the mesmerizing way Chan’s lips curl and stretch when he talks. “We have time. Three whole weeks together. There are so many other things I can show you before we get that far.” 

When put like that, Chan makes it sound so nice. 

“You’re gonna let hyung make you feel good tonight though, aren’t you?”

Felix bites his bottom lip. Why would he say no when his hyung is offering so kindly? “How?” he asks, eager to know what exactly Chan has in mind. 

“All you have to do is sit pretty in my lap, baby, just like this,” Chan instructs with a pleased grin. “Do I have permission to touch you?”

Felix nods, straightening up in Chan’s hold until all his weight is on the elder man’s thighs. Red creeps up his neck when Chan throws him an expectant look. Right. Words. “Yes, hyung.” 

Fingers slip beneath the waistband of Felix’s sleep pants and shyness grips at his heart. If he had known he’d be fooling around with Chan like this, he would have packed something other than Scooby-Doo. 

“Very cute,” Chan coos, letting the elastic snap against the soft give of Felix’s tummy. His hips buck at the sensation, cock drooling in his boxers and making a mess as Chan palms him over the fabric. “Lift up for me.” Both layers are discarded, pulled down Felix’s legs and tossed to the floor. Fire burns along his skin, shame and excitement both mixing together now that someone is looking at him, bare and wet and helpless for the very first time. “Cute here too. Can fit all of you in one hand.”

Chan touches him skillfully, calloused fingers gentle against the flushed head of his cock. Words slip from his plush mouth, but Felix can’t think beyond the tight grip sending electricity through his body, how the glide gets stickier and messier the more he’s played with. Chan watches him with darkness in his eyes, its intensity growing with every whine and mewl that drips from Felix’s spit-slick lips. 

“Hyung, hyung, you too. Wanna see you too,” Felix gasps. He reaches to steady himself on Chan’s hips, thighs burning as he fucks into Chan’s fist.

The elder hums and chuckles, his chest rumbling with the noise. “Okay, baby.”

Felix nearly chokes when Chan pulls his own cock out, thick and heavy against his belly. He’s almost embarrassed by their difference in size, not just their cocks but all of them. Felix is so slight compared to Chan in every way. Shoulders, waist, hands, biceps. All so small next to Chan. 

Chan cups his palm under Felix’s chin. “Spit.”

It’s kinda gross, but Felix does as he’s told, eyes wide and searching for approval. He watches as Chan readjusts their bodies until he can wrap his hand around both of them. And fuck, Felix is gone. Chan keeps one hand steadied on Felix’s hip as he jerks them off in tandem, head thrown back, neck bared and glistening. Felix aches to touch him too, but he’s one right move away from finishing humiliatingly fast. 

“You’re close,” Chan points out, already too attuned to Felix’s body. “It’s alright, Lixie, go ahead.” 

Felix squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “No, not yet.” 

Chan only works his hand over them faster, relentless and unforgiving. “Too bad,” he pants, “We can train you to hold it later. Hyung wants to watch you make a mess.” 

Train? Felix can’t even begin to comprehend something like that. Chan’s deep, velvety voice is all that matters. If his hyung wants him to cum, he will, he’ll listen and be good. It takes nothing more than a flick of Chan’s wrist and he’s coming undone. Writhing and whining as he covers the both of them in ropes of milky white. Every muscle is sore by the time he stops shaking, the weight of his pleasure slumping him over in Chan’s lap. 

The elder is there to catch him, having finished alongside Felix, the sight and sound of him alone enough to send him sailing over the edge. He rolls their bodies until Felix is sprawled comfortably on the sheets, breathless and clinging to Chan like a teddy bear. 

“You okay, baby?” Chan asks, a crooked grin on his handsome face. 

Laughter bubbles from Felix’s chest. He feels giddy beyond belief, invincible, like he could run a marathon right this very moment. “That was…fuck,” he says, “So good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Felix nods. Coughs. “I need water,” he glances down at himself, “and a wet wipe.” 

Chan looks at him with so much fondness, but there’s still darkness in his gaze. A deep satisfaction that Felix can’t explain. “Let hyung take care of everything.”

❃

The next morning, they meet Minho and Jisung in the lobby for a mediocre continental breakfast. It takes approximately four and a half seconds for Minho to look at Felix, then at Chan, then at the both of them together before his eyes narrow. 

“You sleep okay, Lix?” asks Jisung as he grabs a plate and loads it up with pancakes.

“Yeah, Bokkie, you sleep okay?” Minho questions, but his intense gaze doesn’t stray from Chan. 

“Uh, yes?” Felix mumbles, not sure what the heck is going on. Next to him, Chan whistles and pokes at an apple with clear plastic tongs.

“You son of a bitch,” Minho says, voice entirely too calm. “Jagi, get ready to hide a body. I’m going to kill Chan.”

“What??” Chan and Felix yelp at the same time. 

“Okay!” Jisung says. 

Felix flails where he stands, ready to throw himself in the middle of his brother’s fiery rage, but Minho is already yielding a plastic knife and chasing a pleading Chan out into the parking lot. 

Chapter Text

Humans are curious creatures. 

Their greed is ruinous, an airborne disease that spreads like wildfire. Felix has seen the mightiest fall; sailing on their yachts, their cruise ships, their top of the line fishing boats, all swallowed by roaring waves and left to rot on the ocean floor. Surrounded by monsters they can only dream of discovering.

Humans are foolish. 

They can cling to lifeboats. They can shoot their flares into the night sky. But they are not made for the ocean. They will die. 

Except, every once in a while, there comes a human who showcases an impressive will to live. 

From beneath the eerily calm surface, Felix watches with black eyes. The human is alone, shivering and soaked to the bone. His boat is no more than a dinghy. Made of old wooden planks and chipped gray paint. 

He’s rather handsome, Felix notes. With black hair that curls slightly at the ends, a strong nose and sharp jaw. He’s broad in both shoulders and chest, rich with muscle, packed with meat. 

Felix flutters the gills along his neck and begins his song, a gentle hum in his chest. The sound travels through the water and past the surface, sending vibrations up through the wooden vessel. His human freezes, eyes wide and searching, already beginning to gloss over with enchantment. He scurries towards the edge and stares down into the depths, his heart pulled towards the crystal clear cadence of Felix’s voice. 

“Who’s there?” the man asks, fearless, hopeful. 

The song swells, the words sweet and whimsical. Felix’s webbed hands are pale under the moonlight, claws sharp and long as he curls his fingers over the side of the boat and pulls his torso out of the water. His true form is covered in shimmery white scales, his teeth pointed and arranged in rows perfect for searing flesh from bone. He is beautiful for his kind. Yet, what his human sees is far different.

To him, Felix appears with pale, dewy skin not unlike that of a human. Icy blonde hair cascades down his shoulders, paired with piercing blue eyes and rosy lips. He is whatever the human wants him to be. A past lover or perhaps an old friend.

When they lock eyes, Felix is greeted with an awed smile. “Yongbok? Is that you?”

Human emotions are pointless. Felix will never know who Yongbok is, but the name must mean something to this poor man. 

“You found me,” Felix purrs. His vocal chords are not meant to be used above water, the sound unnatural and wrong. It doesn’t matter. The human hears what he yearns for most. 

“How lovely it is to see your face. Oh, how I’ve missed you, darling,” the man gushes as salty tears gather in his waterline. “Lost at sea, they said. I was called a madman, but I couldn’t give up. Not on you, never.”

How sad, Felix thinks. To love someone so deeply, to die for their sake.

A hand grazes Felix’s cheekbone and his heart screams in his chest. He falters, confused and scared as the pain only worsens. With every blink, pictures flash through his mind, broken scenes of a life he’s never known. A man. His human. A name. 

Felix rips away from the man’s hold, his warm palms like hot coals on his skin, and hisses. His heart pounds and his head throbs. He doesn’t know this human, no matter the nonsense that spills from his lips. Before he can say more, before he can pull Felix closer and bring him more pain, Felix grabs him by the collar and drags them both below the surface.

The old dinghy floats on the waves, empty and unassuming. It will sink soon enough. 

They always do. 

Chapter Text

Something warm nudges Felix’s side. 

A few seconds pass. When Felix doesn’t react aside from shoving his face further into his pillow, he’s nudged again. This time with a little more insistence.

“Mmm,” Felix hums, pulling the fluffy blanket tighter around himself. It can’t be later than seven in the morning. The sun hasn’t even begun to bleed through his eyelids yet. 

A chin hooks over Felix’s shoulder. “Lix,” someone whispers. 

“What?” he mumbles, one eye peeking open to see his bull of a boyfriend peering down at him with a pout. Incredibly cute, but he’s not quite ready to wake up. “Go back to sleep, Channie.”

Chan squirms next to him with a desperate little whine. He huffs, whips his tail against the bed, and spoons Felix from behind. All it takes is one slow grind of Chan’s hips against his ass and suddenly Felix is wide awake. 

“But, Lixie,” Chan begs. “S’my rut.”

Heat pools between Felix’s hips, the intensity of it making him shiver from head to toe. “Yeah?” he asks, stretching and arching his back so he can feel more of Chan’s arousal. He knows firsthand how needy Chan gets during his ruts, poor guy must have woken up already painfully hard and throbbing. “What are you waiting for? Get me ready for you, baby.” 

Chan jumps into action, nearly poking Felix in the eye with one of his horns. The drawer on their bedside table is torn open and rifled through, the chaos entirely unnecessary, but they can worry about it later. Once Chan has found what he’s looking for, he very gently, always careful around his mate, pulls the blanket off completely and maneuvers Felix onto his stomach. 

“Be nice,” Felix warns softly. “Don’t rip my clothes.” 

The fingers that were wound tight in the fabric of his shorts loosen immediately. “Sorry, sorry. Just need you so bad,” Chan says, shy as he spreads Felix’s legs so he can rest between them and shove the offending cotton down his hips. 

Felix peers over his shoulder and groans. Chan’s cock is impressive every day of the year, but he’s the prettiest when he’s in rut. Long and thick, easily rivaling the girth of Felix’s forearm. The flared head is flushed a deep angry red, already drooling precum down the shaft and dripping onto the sheets. 

Chan wastes no time spreading Felix’s cheeks with one hand and squeezing a ridiculous amount of lube over his hole. The cool gel is jarring, but Chan is quick to circle a finger around his rim, stretching and prodding before pushing inside. 

“You’re so warm,” he whines, shaggy brown hair falling over his eyes as he rubs the pad of his finger against Felix’s slick walls. “Love your hole, love how you feel, love you so much, Lixie.” Felix pants into his pillow as Chan adds another finger, scissoring him open and prepping him for a third. Every touch is perfect, Chan’s instincts working together to make sure Felix can take him with little strain. 

“Love you too— haahh,” Felix chokes on air, eyes crossing when Chan massages over his prostate. He takes a steadying breath. “M’ready. You can fuck me now, Channie.” 

“Gonna breed you,” Chan corrects, eyes shiny and determined. “Breed my Lixie full until it takes.” Strong hands flip Felix onto his back and lift his legs until he’s folded in half. “Gotta do it like this, can’t waste it, need to give you babies.” 

Felix can’t actually get pregnant. They both know this. But Chan conveniently forgets whenever he’s in rut, his hormones telling him the exact opposite—that if he works hard enough it’s bound to happen. All of that is very amusing to Felix and he loves to indulge in his boyfriend’s fantasies. 

The mating press is a little embarrassing though. Only because Chan is so earnest and genuine as he lines his huge cock up with Felix’s hole and begins to bully himself inside. He looks down at Felix with a sweaty brow and a dopey smile, entirely too pleased with himself when Felix whimpers at the slight burn. 

“My Lixie is so perfect,” he brags, huffing and puffing. “So tight and wet. Made for me and no one else.” Chan continues to yap lovingly, telling Felix how sweet he is, how fertile and obedient. How he’s taking it like a good mate, letting Chan use him and keep him full. 

Once he bottoms out, he nuzzles into Felix’s neck and gives him time to adjust. Felix is only a little light-headed, begging his body to comply before Chan starts fucking him in earnest. He’s been with Chan in and out of his ruts for years now, but that doesn’t mean taking his monster cock is something he’ll ever really get used to. 

“Always fill me up so well, Channie,” Felix praises, petting Chan’s messy hair. “Such a good sire, hm? Gonna keep going until I’m nice and bred?”

“Yes,” Chan promises, hips bucking. “Won’t stop ‘til you’re all round and pretty.” He begins to rock in and out, pulling back further and fucking in harder with every thrust. He knows what he’s doing, hips fluid and skilled, the perfect amount of strength and precision to keep Felix pliant and boneless beneath him. 

“Oh, fuck,” Felix mewls when Chan increases his pace. His body is jostled up the bed, pressed further into the cotton sheets. “Right there, can feel you everywhere, shit.” Chan rumbles deep in his chest and bares down, holds Felix in place with one hand on his lower belly and the other wrapped around his thigh. One glance down and he’d see how Chan’s cock creates a bulge in his tummy, carving a space for himself where no one else has ever been. Felix feels like he’s unraveling, like he desperately needs something to hold onto. 

Luckily, Chan’s horns are the perfect solution. 

He grabs each horn by the base like one would when doing a chin-up and pulls Chan impossibly closer. His boyfriend whimpers into a filthy kiss and only fucks him harder, deeper, the flared head of his cock pounding into Felix’s guts. 

“M’close,” Chan says, fingers bruising on Felix’s thigh. “You have to take all of it, every last drop.” 

Felix nods rapidly, shuddering with pleasure. “I will. Give it to me. Want your cum, need it.” He may not be able to get pregnant, but the feeling of Chan pumping him full of his seed is second to none. Thick and warm, coating his insides, claiming him in every way.

It’s no different this time. Chan’s hips stutter, movements growing sloppy and uncoordinated. He spills into Felix with a gasp, needy and wet, pressed against Felix’s open mouth. The sensation of hot cum filling him to the brim is enough to pull Felix’s own orgasm from his trembling body, completely untouched. 

Panting breaths are shared amidst the calm silence that follows. Felix rubs his thumbs over the base of Chan’s horns and smiles when the bull whips his tail behind him and preens at the touch. 

“I did a good job, didn’t I?” Chan asks, heartbreakingly sincere. 

“You always do,” Felix assures, wiggling his hips to try and relieve the tension in his back. 

Panic blooms on Chan’s face, eyebrows furrowed and concerned. “No, Lixie. Gotta stay like this, gotta keep you full.” 

“Right, of course,” Felix agrees with a chuckle. He is so disgustingly in love. “Maybe we can relax a bit though? Just so we’re both comfortable.”

“Okay…” Chan gives in easily and slowly brings Felix’s legs down to rest on the bed. It’s a small relief that is eventually countered by Chan laying his entire body weight on him, just to ensure he can’t wiggle anymore. 

Which is fine with Felix. He wraps his arms around Chan’s broad frame and kisses his cheek, fully prepared to stay speared on his boyfriend’s cock for the foreseeable future.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“Ugh! You two look so fucking good together!”

Chris’ chest rumbles against Felix’s back in a low chuckle, shy but pleased with the photographer's praise. Felix swallows down his own sheepishness in favor of professionalism. He’s worked with Hyunjin enough to expect his enthusiastic compliments by now, knowing full well the eccentric beta tends to yap when in search of the perfect shot. 

“You okay?” Chris asks, lips accidentally brushing the side of Felix’s neck, inches away from his scent gland. They’re back to chest, moving in tandem every few seconds to offer different angles. It’s the first time Felix has ever modeled with The Christopher Bahng: alpha model extraordinaire, sought after for every magazine cover in the fashion industry.

Felix hums. Sure, he’s fine. He’s completely fine with the way Chris grips his hips with his huge palms, thumbs brushing together on his lower back, just above his ass. He’s not bothered even a little bit by his broad shoulders and muscled chest or how they make Felix appear so slight in comparison. Like the perfect alpha and omega pair.

Most importantly, his pussy does not slick up at all when Hyunjin instructs Chris to flip Felix around and crowd him against the wall. 

Thank fuck for scent blockers. 

Half of Felix’s brain is on auto-pilot, arching his back to create unique shapes and lines because he’s a professional and he knows what he’s doing. The other half is quickly melting into a pile of horny goo. Chris is so big. Felix wants him to—

“Keep it up, Felix,” Hyunjin directs. “That’s your alpha! Sell it to the camera!” 

Oh, if only. Felix would climb Chris like a fucking tree seven days a week. 

In the moment, he wraps his arms around Chris’ neck and peers at the camera with his signature sultry eyes. Chris grabs his leg and hikes it up around his hip, unintentionally bringing their crotches flush with one another. Felix leaks even more in his panties. Prays he doesn’t ruin the expensive fabric of the luxurious two-piece suit he very much so does not own. 

“Now look at each other!”

A calloused hand cups Felix’s jaw, soft but insistent, turning his head until he’s locking eyes with warm brown irises. Chris winks and gifts Felix a lopsided smile. “Stay right there,” he whispers. Felix fights the urge to furrow his brows, instead holding his breath as Chris leans in until their noses touch. 

When he finally does breathe, he swears he can smell the ocean. Thick and salty in his lungs. 

Chris’ nostrils flare. His eyes flicker down to Felix’s scent gland, pupils dilating. 

“Cherry vanilla?”

“S-Sorry?” Felix squeaks. 

Chris shakes his head softly as if snapping back to reality. He continues to take the lead, no longer waiting for Hyunjin’s instructions. Felix is pivoted on his ankle so his back faces the camera, his other leg still hiked over Chris’ hip. Strong arms wrap around his waist and squeeze, caging him against Chris’ solid chest. Warm lips graze his ear. 

“You’re leaking, omega,” Chris whispers, nuzzling into Felix’s neck. “You’re lucky no one else can tell.” 

Panic zaps through Felix like a bolt of lightning. He sniffs, and yeah, his sweet cherry vanilla scent is cutting through the scent blockers, made worse by the traitorous slick that has only begun to drip out of him more and more. 

This has never happened to him before. He’s modeled with countless alphas in various levels of undress, through countless intimate poses. Felix doesn’t know what to do. His panties are a filthy fucking mess. 

Yet, Chris keeps him close. Moving their bodies in ways that hide Felix’s little problem, arguably making his situation worse and worse until he’s struggling to steady his breathing, until Hyunjin finally calls out—

“Let’s break for lunch!”

They pull apart slowly. Felix can’t meet Chris’ knowing gaze. “I’m gonna…”

“I don’t know about you,” Chris begins, leading Felix to the side of the studio with a hand on his hip. Ocean breeze wraps around Felix’s throat, calming, protective. Hungry. “But I could really sink my teeth into something sweet right about now.” 

Chapter Text

Cameras flash at him relentlessly, creating white spots in Felix’s vision as he tries to maneuver through the crowd. The photographers are faceless and crass, closing in on him from all sides despite the countless security guards. He can see the sleek black SUV waiting for him by the curb, but the short distance to it feels impossible.

“Shit,” Felix curses under his breath as he trips over his own feet in an attempt to avoid a stranger’s outstretched hand. 

“Hey!” a stern voice barks. “Back up! Back the fuck up.” 

Chris, his personal bodyguard, positions himself between Felix and the insensitive stranger, pressing his body against Felix’s side and wrapping an arm around his waist. He’s an effective shield—broad and strong and rather scary looking in his all black get-up. 

A path is cleared for them, just a handful of feet until they reach the vehicle. People shout the wildest things to try and get his attention, but Felix keeps his eyes on his feet and curls his fingers around the hem of Chris’ leather jacket. He’s thankful when Chris pulls the car door open and ushers him inside, hand cupping the top of his head so he doesn’t hit it on the metal frame. 

Ragged breaths tear through his chest as he plops down onto the seat. Three years into being “famous” and Felix is still not used to all the commotion. 

Chris is close behind him, sliding into the next seat and slamming the door shut. He sighs and runs a hand through his gelled hair before leaning in, expression soft. “You alright?”

“Mm,” Felix nods. “Yeah.” His heart pounds, it feels off in his chest. 

Chris’ warm brown eyes roam over Felix’s stricken face and he frowns, brushing his thumb over the freckles under Felix’s eye. “It’s a short drive to the hotel. Deep breathes until then.” 

He’s right, the drive is short, but the walk into the hotel is just as chaotic. Chris has to shove someone out of the way and push through the crowd himself, all while keeping Felix tucked under his arm. 

Sometimes Felix wishes he could live there, hidden away, protected by Chris at all times. 

“Stay,” he orders more than asks once he’s sitting cross-legged on the hotel bed. Chris pauses his inspection of the room to look at Felix, expression purposefully neutral. 

“You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Please?”

Chris always gives in. 

Felix is pulled into Chris’ lap once the elder settles back against the headboard. He fits into the hollow of his arms like a missing puzzle piece. Their hips slot together. Felix wiggles around until Chris grunts and forces him to still. They stay like that for a while, chests rising and falling in sync with one another. Felix can’t help himself. He rolls his hips and sighs when Chris’ cock fattens up beneath him.

“Are you going to ask or am I just to assume?”

The skin of Chris’ neck is thin and pale. Felix runs his fingers over the tendon under his jaw. “I don’t want to think anymore.”

Chris hums in acknowledgement. He likes to play it off as if he doesn’t get as much out of this as Felix does, as if it’s just another part of his job as Felix’s protector. But Felix knows better. Can see the darkness swirling in his eyes, the deep satisfaction Chris radiates when Felix bends to his will. 

Fingers prod at his plush lips and Felix opens up, lets Chris stroke over his tongue and teeth, the soft inside of his cheek. He spreads Felix’s spit over his mouth and chin, wiping the rest of it off on his cheek.

“Get on your knees, baby.” 

Easy enough. Felix slides from Chris’ lap, eyes never leaving the man now looming over him. He knows not to rush it, not to appear too greedy or else he won’t get what he wants. Chris takes his time unbuckling his belt, popping open the button on his slacks and pulling the zipper down. When his cock is finally free, saliva pools under Felix’s tongue. 

“Open,” Chris says, jerking himself off lazily mere inches from Felix’s face. He continues to tease even after Felix follows orders, flicking his wrist and thumbing at the head, reaching down to cup his balls, moaning and showing off. 

Only when spit drips from Felix’s tongue and onto the floor does Chris feed his perfect cock past his lips. The taste is so familiar, a mixture of musk and soap and sweat. The thick weight is comfortable on his tongue, filling his mouth and emptying his head. Felix’s eyes flutter shut, content. 

Chris is mean like this, but Felix likes that about him. He likes the hand in his hair, holding it back from his face so Chris can see every microexpression flit over Felix’s face. He likes how Chris starts off slow, rubbing his cock over Felix’s soft palate, pushing the head against the wet glide of his cheek so the skin bulges obscenely. He especially likes it when Chris pulls back out, slick and messy with spit, to rub his cockhead over Felix’s swollen lips, to slap it against his tongue and smear precum over his cheeks and nose. 

And then he slides back in, deeper and deeper, past the resistance of Felix’s trained gag reflex until he’s sheathed completely in his throat. He stays there. Holds Felix’s nose to his pelvis and grinds into his mouth. Ignores the way Felix’s breaths go from labored to shallow to anxiously quick. He’ll pull out when he wants to. 

Felix takes it. He’s the one who asked for it after all, time and time again.

When Chris does pull Felix off his cock using the tight grip on his hair, Felix gasps and shakes like a leaf. 

“What are you?” Chris asks. The question is like honey in Felix’s mind, too slow to fully comprehend. Chris strikes him, swift and succinct across the face. “What are you?” he asks again.

It can only be one thing. “‘M a cockslut.” 

“Whose?”

Again, easy answer. “Yours.” 

Felix is grateful for Chris. No one else has ever taken such good care of him. He hopes Chris knows just by looking in his eyes, glossy and wet and worshiping. 

His mouth is stuffed full of cock again. Chris hisses through his teeth. Sweat drips from his brow as he drags Felix up and down his length, faster this time, breaching his throat with each thrust. “Fuck, look at you,” he moans. “You’re insatiable.” 

Felix would nod, but Chris is using him in earnest now, muttering filthy curses that Felix can barely hear over the sound of his throat clicking and gurgling through the onslaught of abuse. He vaguely registers the tears streaming down his face, mixing with the sticky mess of spit and precum adorning his flushed skin. 

Chris cums without warning. Just pushes Felix down to the base and ruts his hips until thick spurts of white fill his throat, overflowing onto his tongue and leaking past the corners of his mouth. Felix tries to swallow it all, but he gags when Chris pulls out, softening cock shiny with spit and seed. He’s made to clean it up, to lick the mess away before it drips onto the floor, but that’s arguably his favorite part. Proof that he’s done well.

“Get some rest,” Chris says, gentleness returned after he wipes Felix clean of all evidence and lays him out on the bed. He lays down too, lets Felix rest his cheek on his chest so he can listen to his steady heartbeat. 

Felix has given up on trying to understand Chris. The constant hot and cold that keeps Felix from crawling inside his chest. The man would die for him, whether it's because that’s what he was hired to do or not. He’ll stay with Felix throughout the night, but will insist it’s just to keep him safe. 

He gives Felix anything and everything he asks for. All except for his heart. 

Chapter Text

“J-James 1:15. Then, after d-desire has conceived, it g-gives b-birth to sin; and s—” 

Felix cuts his own quivering voice off with a scream as he cums for a third time. He gushes even more around the thick dildo filling his cunt, dripping down his thighs and adding to the slick mess on the floor. He can’t think straight. The words printed before him blur together and lose all meaning. 

Not that they meant that much to him in the first place. 

Chan spanks him, his wide palm striking hard on the red, throbbing skin of Felix’s backside. He kicks Felix’s feet further apart, presses down between his shoulder blades until his nose is buried in sacred pages, but keeps his hips high in the air. 

“When will you learn?” Chan seethes, disappointment thick on his tongue. “This filthy body of yours. You must not give into sins of the flesh so easily, Felix.” Despite his scolding, Chan grabs the base of the toy and pushes it even deeper into Felix’s swollen pussy. “Continue.” 

They’ve been at it for what feels like hours. Another lesson in which Felix is made to read every highlighted bible verse Chan has chosen for their session. He is to read until the words take root in his mind. Until his body rejects the pleasure Chan so skillfully inflicts. 

Felix takes a deep breath. “Proverbs 28:13. Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who—fuck, fuck, Chan, please,” he begs as the elder returns to fucking him with the dildo, mean and purposeful. His body is jostled on the bed, his toes curl against the hardwood floor. 

“Keep going,” Chan orders. Rough fingers run over his folds, spreading him wider as the toy rubs against the little sweet spot Felix can never reach on his own. 

“B-But the one who c-confesses and renounces them finds mercy.” 

Mercy. What a strange concept. 

Chan thumbs over his clit, rubbing over the sensitive bud in cruel circles. Felix seizes against the surge of heat blooming between his hips, helpless against the wave of bliss sure to push him over the edge once again.

“Can you resist, Felix? Or will you finally confess to yourself what a greedy, insatiable whore you are?”

Tears slip down Felix’s ruddy cheeks. “M’not,” he whines, voice muffled by the book in his hands. The ink muddies and smears under the thick droplets, distorting its message.

“What’s that?” Chan asks, amused. The dildo is pulled from Felix’s hole. He can feel himself gape and clench around nothing. He needs something, anything to keep him full. It’s only a small relief when three knobby fingers plunge inside and massage over his velvety walls. 

Out of nowhere, the buzz of a vibrator comes to life. Felix thrashes, afraid of what’s to follow. “M’not a whore!” he sobs, but Felix must admit his weakness, for he succumbs unexpectedly, squirting all over himself as soon as the toy is pressed to his clit. 

“1 John 1:8,” Chan whispers, smothering Felix’s trembling body with his own. His voice is dark and wicked in his ear, “If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.” 

Pages turn before Felix’s eyes. The vibrator is switched to the highest setting. 

“Continue.”  

Chapter Text

The sharp crack of a hand striking across bare skin jolts Felix back from the edge of sleep. 

He blinks, lashes fluttering softly against his flushed cheeks as he tries to remember where he is, what he’s doing. His left thigh stings something awful, right below the cleft of his ass where fingers now grope the reddened skin, squeezing so hard he fights the urge to flinch away. 

“So nice of you to join us,” a dark, silken voice coos, warm breath ghosting over Felix’s ear. “Tired, are you?”

It takes Felix too long to fully recognize where he is, but he knows as soon as a familiar musky cologne burns his nose. He’s in someone’s lap, straddling their thick thighs, back arched and pretty—a perfect line leading from his narrow shoulders, down his spine to where a thick cock is stuffed in his hole. 

“How exhausting it must be,” the same voice whispers, words laced with venom. “To do absolutely nothing but fuck yourself on my cock whenever I want. I don’t ask for much, Felix.” 

More voices swirl around the room behind him, muffled but mocking, snickering at Felix’s expense. He remembers being woken up and brought to the lavish meeting room where he was told to kneel. There he stayed, quiet at Chan’s feet until he was dragged into the older man’s lap by the hair. 

Felix had ignored the eyes burning into his skin and allowed himself to be fingered open until he was ready to take Chan’s cock. As long as he was only made to face Chan and his unfairly pretty crooked smile, he could pretend being used like a toy for all to see wasn’t so humiliating. 

“Sorry, sir,” he whispers meekly into Chan’s ear, hoping no one else can hear him. Felix was only warming his cock after Chan had cum inside. He didn’t mean to doze off. 

“Oh, I don’t want your apology,” Chan laughs. There’s a glint in his eye that makes Felix’s stomach churn. “However, I do think you owe one to the rest of the room. Why don’t you put on a little show for them?”

Dread drips down Felix’s throat. Being Chan’s to use is one thing, outlined in detail on the extensive contract they both signed, but Felix never agreed to letting anyone else touch him. He’s about to protest, but Chan soothes his worries. 

“Easy now,” he teases, fingers wandering up and down Felix’s sides. “You belong to me and me alone. I just think the guys deserve to watch you cry and beg like a filthy little slut.” 

Felix doesn’t even have time to process those words before he’s being pulled off Chan’s cock and spun around to face the rest of the room. All of the air leaves his lungs when hungry eyes drink in his exposed skin. He’s like an animal trapped in a cage, made to fascinate and entertain. 

Chan tugs him back into his lap, but not before thrusting his cock to the hilt in Felix’s tight hole with ease thanks to the thick seed coating his walls. His legs are spread wide to show his own arousal, embarrassingly hard and leaking despite his hesitation. Even if his mind is unsure, his body knows, greedy and desperate. 

“Go on,” Chan says, leaning back lazily in his seat to watch Felix tremble. “Show everyone just how much of a cockwhore you really are.” 

Felix flushes pink from head to toe. He’s shy in his initial movements, rolling his hips as best he can in such a compromising position. The angle isn’t perfect, doesn’t allow for Chan’s cock to rub against his prostate like he craves, but wicked humiliation seeps into his core and flickers to life. 

He hasn’t been allowed to cum all day. He’s not even sure if he’s allowed to now, but he knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back even if he wanted to. Chan holds his waist steady, aiding his movements as he fucks himself down onto his cock in earnest. Faceless men watch him fall apart more and more by the second, some amused, some outright mean. 

His insides burn with shame as he makes a mess of himself, sobbing and begging like Chan said he would. 

Chapter Text

As Felix lines up his arrow, the forest around him fades into silence.

He narrows his focus on the large stag grazing off in the distance, ignoring the soreness in his arms in order to hold the bow correctly like Chan had taught him. The sun is close to setting, but their hunt hasn’t been as successful as they’d hoped. Felix has to get this kill. 

“Steady,” his brother whispers from over his shoulder. His heady petrichor scent floats on the breeze, laced with gentle encouragement. “Just a little to the left.” 

Felix readjusts, doing his best to aim for the heart. They need to eat, but the animal shouldn’t have to suffer for it. He counts to three, holds his breath, and shoots. 

The arrow flies through the trees and sinks into flesh with a sickening schlunk, but victory is short-lived; he only managed to hit the deer’s flank. The poor creature bellows in pain and flees deeper into the uncharted forest. 

“Damn,” Chan says, trying to keep the disappointment from his tone. “That’s alright, Lixie. I think I caught the scent of some rabbits back that way. We can—”

“It’ll bleed out,” Felix interrupts, eyes straying from the animal. How could he have missed so terribly? Rabbits are fine food for a few days, but they’re just as tricky to catch. This deer can keep them fed for far longer. It can give Chan time to rest, to not have to worry so much about keeping them alive. Felix already feels like such a burden, the weak little omega his alpha brother got stuck caring for, even if Chan promises he’s never felt that way. “I can chase it down.” 

“No, wait!” 

But it’s too late. Felix pulls his old hunting knife from his boot and sets off, following the scent of blood. Footsteps pound the earth behind him. Chan is quick, but Felix is quicker, lighter, his agile frame allowing him to spring through the trees with ease. 

At the end of the blood trail, the deer lies dead. An arrow protrudes from its chest. 

Around him, unfamiliar scents permeate the air, bitter and unpleasant. 

“Felix…”

When he turns around, bile rising high in his throat, it’s to the sight of Chan with a knife to his neck, two large men holding him back, and fear in his eyes. 

Something heavy strikes Felix across the temple. The last thing he hears is Chan’s helpless shout before the world goes quiet. 

➳

There is no one in this life Felix loves more than his brother. 

Chan has always been by his side. The only constant Felix could ever hold onto. 

He taught Felix how to read and write, how to skin a rabbit, how to protect himself should he ever find himself in trouble. All things the omegas of their old pack were never allowed to do. 

He sat guard outside Felix’s room while he went through his first heat. Poor Felix all alone and confused, begging for his brother because no one else cared. No one else could possibly love him so fiercely. 

He stole Felix away from their pack in the middle of the night. Abandoned the only home he’d ever known so Felix wouldn’t have to mate with the cruel alpha their parents all but sold him off to.

And now it’s only fair that Felix does whatever it takes to keep Chan safe in turn. 

➳

Felix comes to on the mossy forest floor. 

It’s officially nightfall. He can make out a handful of small huts circling a large bonfire in the white moonlight. Bodies move and shift around him, perched on fallen tree trunks or poorly handcrafted stools. The smell of roast deer barely covers the stench of alpha. Not his alpha, not Chan, but numerous others, rancid and on edge. 

“Ah! You’re finally awake,” booms an unsettlingly cheerful voice. “I was beginning to worry they’d hit you too hard.”

Felix jerks away from the hand skimming over his ankle and pulls himself upright, trying desperately to gather more of his surroundings. The alpha who spoke to him tsks in disapproval. He’s ugly and scarred, dressed in dirty furs that drag against the ground, but covered in tarnished brass jewelry someone less educated might mistake for gold. Surrounding him are only alphas, making Felix believe he’s the Head Alpha of this rogue group. There are no omegas in sight. 

He was warned of packs like this when he was younger. Ones who didn’t even see omegas as worthy enough to keep around aside from producing more alphas. 

He needs to find Chan. 

“What have you done with my—” He stops himself from saying brother. The less these strangers know the better. “The alpha you captured.” 

“Who? Him?” says the Head Alpha. Behind him, two other alphas pull a third body between them into the light. Chan goes willingly, head hung low. He’s bound by the hands and feet and gagged, the rope rubbing his pale skin raw. 

Felix chokes down a cry. “Y-Yes.” 

When Chan hears his voice, he snaps to attention, eyes wild as he meets Felix’s gaze. He seems relatively unharmed, but his face is stricken, pleading something Felix doesn’t understand. 

“Well now that both of you are awake,” the Head Alpha announces, eyes narrowed. “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me why you trespassed into my territory.” 

Chan can’t speak. Felix doesn’t know what to say. Shame and guilt eat away at him. This is undoubtedly his fault. If only he hadn’t chased after that deer. Silence stretches through the air as Felix wracks his brain for an explanation, but his head throbs and his heart pounds mercilessly in his chest. 

“Nothing to say, little omega?” 

Felix looks at Chan, tries to decipher the message behind his eyes. “I—”

“You know what?” the Head Alpha asks, tapping his chin in exaggeration. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve been in need of a new breeder.” He turns to the men around him, his earlier playful demeanor completely forgotten. “We’ll keep the omega.” 

Felix’s entire body burns. Everything around him is crumbling into dust. How did they get here?

“Kill the alpha.” 

“No!” Felix cries, all too aware of the bodies drawing closer. Chan begins to yell and thrash in the alpha’s tight grip, but he’s one against a dozen. It’s the sight of Chan being pulled away from him once again that makes Felix break. He wishes he could say he thinks through his next words, that he knows what he’s doing when he says, “He’s my mate!”

Except that doesn’t mean anything to these men. Felix doesn’t even have a mating mark on his neck. So he pushes it, hopes and prays that the Head Alpha has some sort of moral compass hidden under layers and layers of cruelty. 

“I-I’m pregnant with his pup,” Felix pleads, subconsciously moving to hold his flat stomach. Chan stops struggling entirely in his peripheral vision. “It’s still e-early, but it’s true. Don’t take my pup's father away. Please, I beg you.” 

A whimper slips past the rope between Chan’s lips. 

The Head Alpha turns to Felix and smiles something wicked. “Prove it.” 

“What?”

“Prove it, omega,” he taunts, motioning for his men who throw Chan to the ground in front of Felix’s shaking frame. “Let’s see you take your alpha here and now. It shouldn’t be an issue if he knots you, right? You’re already bred after all.” 

If this is their only chance to make it out of here, together, Felix will take it. 

He forces himself to ignore the leering eyes and demeaning comments as he crawls to Chan’s side. His brother’s eyes are unreadable, purposefully dark and closed off. Chan has to understand, he has to know this is the only way. 

“It’s okay,” Felix whispers, brushing flecks of dirt from Chan’s face and neck. “Just keep your eyes on me. We’ll be okay.” 

He moves to untie Chan’s hands, but he’s stopped. “Leave them,” the Head Alpha demands from somewhere far off. “You’ll have to work for it if you want us to let you go.” 

With teary eyes, Felix presses his lips to Chan’s cheek. His brother lets himself be rolled onto his back, lets Felix crawl under his bound hands and into his lap. Felix can’t explain the sudden onslaught of slick coating his inner thighs, confused and embarrassed and afraid. But Chan is just as guilty, squeezing his eyes shut and bucking his hips when Felix palms over his hardening cock. 

“Channie,” Felix whines, calling out for guidance, for anything to keep him from tearing apart at the seams. Chan makes a broken noise in the back of his throat, just as helpless. 

His brother’s cock is thick and long and hot in his hand. The touch doesn’t feel as wrong as it should. Felix is having a hard time discerning this feeling from those he feels when they huddle for warmth throughout the cold winter months. Or when Chan holds him to his chest during the throes of his heat. They’ve never touched like this before. 

But it doesn’t mean Felix has never thought about it. 

He’s thought plenty over the lonely days of Chan’s ruts, when he insists Felix stay put while he runs off to do gods know what. Felix has always wondered. 

And yet it’s nothing like the real thing. Chan is solid beneath him, steady even as Felix slips their trousers down their hips, as he spreads his legs and runs Chan’s cock through his dripping folds. He shudders, overwhelmed by his own desires, the twisted hunger bubbling to the forefront of his mind. 

“Alpha,” he sighs. His lips brush over Chan’s gagged mouth, breathing in the rich smell of fallen rain. His hips roll in search of more, covering Chan in his slick, readying him to take his precious younger brother for the first time in front of strangers who would much rather kill him. 

Chan groans when Felix sinks down, hands tugging at his restraints. He drapes his arms over Felix’s hips and does his best to aid his movements, pupils blown wide as if he’s finally seeing Felix in a new light. Felix finds that it feels nice, to be full, no matter who it is filling him up. It’s just been the two of them for years now. Maybe this was bound to happen. 

Felix rides Chan’s cock well, smooth but desperate, hoping he can convince their onlookers that this isn’t his kin, but his lover, someone who fucks him every chance he gets. His pussy aches, a toe-curling sensation that only adds fuel to the fire raging in his core. He tries not to falter, but his thighs burn, pulling little whines from his red-bitten lips.

A growl rumbles through Chan’s chest. He throws Felix off-balance with a harsh thrust of his hips, fucking into Felix’s wet, tight heat until stars cloud his vision. The rhythmic movement loosens the rope keeping Chan gagged, so Felix tugs it down completely, uncaring if their captors see. 

“Lixie,” Chan pants against his lips, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. Please, baby, I—”

“No,” Felix shakes his head. “You’re not. I’m not.” 

He pulls Chan into a filthy kiss, one his brother returns with fervor, sucking on his tongue and licking over his teeth. Tasting him and committing it to memory. This won’t be the last time he has Chan like this, it can’t be, but he takes, greedy and selfish like it is. 

“I’m gonna cum, Lix, my knot. Careful,” Chan warns, knowing there’s no way around it. The base of his cock is already swollen, pressing hot against Felix’s cunt. 

“Me too,” Felix whimpers. He wants it. He wants it so bad. 

When he finally gets it, when his hole stretches that much wider to take all Chan has to give, he finishes with a cry, stuck on Chan’s knot. Warm, fertile cum coats his walls. There’s so much of it, fed into his pussy until it’s forced to leak and drip past Chan’s cock. Felix bears down, covering Chan’s body with his own, afraid more than ever that his alpha will be taken from him. 

But time passes, and no one steps in. Not until a ragged bear pelt is tossed over Felix’s shoulders. 

“Be gone by morning,” the Head Alpha sneers.

Felix wonders if they were believable, or perhaps the stranger saw through Felix’s lie all along. 

Either way, Felix got what he wanted.

Chapter Text

As far as Chan is aware, his seed didn’t take. 

The King treats him no differently, if anything his visits increase twofold; seeking Chan early in the morning, before and after council meetings, and once again following dinner. Most often though it is late at night when he sneaks into Chan’s chamber, when the castle is quiet and dark, when there’s no one else around to keep track of Felix’s comings and goings. 

They fuck during most of it, the same give and take that comes so easily to the two of them. Felix hasn’t let Chan knot him since the first time, but he teases, rides Chan’s cock until the last possible second before pulling off and replacing his tight heat with the lesser grip of his hand. Chan cums nonetheless, panting his gratitude because he likes watching Felix’s eyes light up with power and pride. 

Perhaps there is a small change. Felix has grown accustomed to staying even after they’ve reached their highs and their hearts have calmed in their chests.

He talks and Chan listens, about anything and everything, his deep voice swirling through the air and burrowing its way into the cracks of Chan’s mind. Sometimes he asks questions Chan doesn’t know the answer to, expression soft and open, in search of something unknown. 

Tonight is one of those nights. The King unlocks the shackles around Chan’s wrists and makes a home for himself in his lap. His voice is fragile as he asks, “Do you ever wish to leave?”

Chan doesn’t allow himself to think too hard, lest he give himself away entirely. “No, Your Majesty.” 

“And are you lying to your King?” Felix whispers, pulling back from Chan’s neck to narrow his eyes at the alpha. 

The words stick in Chan’s throat this time. “No, Your Majesty.” 

Felix leaves him that night with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, painfully kind. 

✧

The following morning, he returns to Chan after breakfast with a velvet jewelry box in hand. 

Chan can smell his nervousness, bitter and out of place in a world where he rules over all. Of course it strikes him as odd, but Chan lies in wait as always, not daring to expect anything different than their normal routine. 

“Chan,” the King says, still standing feet away from the bed, fingers running over crushed velvet. “Sit up, please.” 

The sound of his name falling from Felix’s lips is foreign. All this time he’s only ever been Alpha, tantalizing to hear, but purposefully vague. He listens, body moving on auto-pilot, tugging his chains until he’s perched on the edge of the mattress. 

“I’m afraid I’m much too selfish to ever let you leave,” Felix begins, taking a few steps closer. He’s still soft and warm from sleep, dressed in his lavish robe, hair falling over his flushed cheeks. Chan’s heart aches. “But I would be a fool to deny you the freedom you deserve.” 

Freedom? What would Chan do with something like that?

He watches Felix fidget with the lid of the box until it’s propped open and presented to Chan with little fanfare. Inside is pristine black leather, thick and wide, secured in a loop with a polished silver buckle. 

A collar. 

“With this, as long as you promised to remain at my side, you’d have free roam of the castle and its grounds,” Felix continues. He picks the collar up and turns it over, showing the engraved backside Chan has yet to see.

Property of His Majesty The King

It’s not something Chan doesn’t already know. His mind, body, and soul belong to Felix, as is written in the papers his family signed when Chan was first chosen. He is not ashamed of that fact. 

And so the choice is simple. Chan shivers as Felix wraps the leather around his neck and secures it flush to the skin. Its weight is heavier than Chan anticipated, but he finds it rather pleasant, comforting. Like the gentle scruffing of a lover. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he says, head bowed low.

The omega hums, his jasmine and vanilla scent sweeter than ever before. “If it’s not too much trouble, I would like you to call me Felix when it’s just the two of us together.” 

Of all things, that is what surprises Chan the most. He clears his throat. “I would be amiss to address you as anything less than your proper title, Your Majesty.” 

“I see,” Felix chuckles, tipping Chan’s head up by the chin. “You can praise me as your sweet omega during all hours of the night, but you cannot grant me this wish?”

Chan is at a loss for words. Felix has him wrapped around his finger. 

“Try it out,” the King orders. “How does it feel on your tongue?”

“Felix,” he sighs, electrified under the omega’s watchful gaze. “Felix,” he says again, tasting each syllable as it bleeds from his mouth. 

“That’s it,” Felix whispers, leaning down to ghost his perfect lips over Chan’s. They meet in a frenzied kiss, all tongue and teeth, clashing, too eager to let the other take the lead. Felix climbs into Chan’s lap where he fits so perfectly. Dainty fingers wrap around Chan’s collar and tug, stealing the air from his lungs. “Nothing can take you from me. You know that, don’t you?”

Chan wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Text

Let it be known, this party sucks ass. 

Felix isn’t quite sure what he was thinking coming to a frat house on a Thursday night the week before the semester is set to end. He should be studying. Or sleeping. Or literally anything else. 

Even Hyunjin chose to stay back at their dorm, opting to have a little spa night that Felix was invited to join, but no. He convinced himself he’d have fun, maybe hook up with a hot guy just for the hell of it. If only the music wasn’t lame and the dance floor wasn’t filled with thrashing weirdos who only want to grind up on him without asking. 

The only silver lining of this whole night is the absence of one particular individual. No fried, curly blonde hair, no ridiculous biceps or annoyingly wide shoulders as far as the eye can see. 

Sweat drips down the back of his neck in the sweltering living room. Felix is currently standing in a circle of people he knows but not well enough to join in on the conversation or tell them he’s going to the bathroom to check his melting mascara. So he slips away with only a wave and weaves through the crowd, heading for the restroom in the back of the house where no one usually goes. 

The door is unlocked and he doesn’t bother knocking. 

He probably should have knocked.

What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?

Felix stares at the scene in front of him with what he hopes is a deadpan face. 

A pretty blonde girl sits on the edge of the counter, legs spread wide to accommodate the hulking figure between them. Her pleather mini skirt is pushed up her hips, exposing her ass and the strings of a neon pink thong. Huge hands play with her tits while she practically sucks the guy’s face off. 

“Oh, real nice, Christopher,” Felix scoffs into the stale air of the small room. “You literally live here, why can’t you do this in your room?”

Chan pulls away from the girl with a wet pop, strings of spit still connecting their lips until they break and make a mess of their chins. Felix grimaces at the sight. Ew. 

“Hey,” is all Chan has to say as he wipes his face, lazy and not at all cool like he thinks he is.

“Bye,” Felix shoots back, already stepping out into the hallway. 

“Oi!” Chan yells after him, urgent. Felix narrows his eyes and turns over his shoulder. What could Chan possibly need to say right now? “Your eyeliner’s all smudged.” 

Okay, so nothing of any importance, just typical bullshit to annoy him. Felix has mastered the art of ignoring ninety-nine percent of the words that leave Chan’s mouth, but something about the way this night has evolved makes his eye twitch in what might very well be a psychotic break. 

“And your hair looks like a family of birds live in it. Are we done sharing?” Felix snaps, pairing his words with a sickeningly sweet smile. He keeps his eyes trained on Chan’s stupid face, not at all glancing down at the arms on full display in his muscle tank or the tight black jeans hugging his ass. Not at all. 

Chan hums, subconsciously kneading at the girl’s thighs. “Sungie is hooking up with someone in my room. Had to improvise.” 

Felix wants to hit him. “I genuinely don’t care.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“I’m gonna goooo,” mumbles the girl as she lightly pushes Chan back and shimmies off the counter. Her shoulder knocks into Felix when she side-steps him, making him trip further into the bathroom. The door slams behind her with a hollow thud.

Felix fully expects Chan to go after her, complaining that Felix ruined his little hookup, but he doesn’t. He just stands there and stares with a dumb look on his dumb face. 

“Maybe lock the door before you’re about to fuck someone on the counter,” Felix snarks. One final jab before he gets the fuck out of this nightmare situation. 

Chan raises an eyebrow and tilts his head like a puppy solving a math problem. Fluffy curls fall into his eyes. He takes a step closer, seconds away from sending Felix into fight or flight mode, and reaches behind Felix to slowly turn the lock. 

Felix looks between the locked door handle and Chan’s smug expression. Back and forth until he’s able to wrap his head around the insinuation. “No way,” Felix swears, shaking his head. “Get fucked.” 

“I was trying to,” Chan coos, entirely too cocky for Felix’s liking.

A plan takes root in his head, sprouting from an itty bitty seed of spite and perhaps an even ittier bittier seed of misguided horniness. Felix promised himself he’d stop doing this, letting it happen, seeking him out. He’ll never admit it to another living soul, but truly, why else would he attend a party at his ex’s frat house, alone, if he thought there was a chance he’d end up here? 

He hates Chan’s guts. But what can he say? The guy was, is, and always will be an unfairly phenomenal fuck. 

Felix turns it on. He leans back against the door and flutters his lashes, lowers his lids and peers up at Chan with wide, doe eyes. Even if they’re the same height, Chan always liked it when Felix made a big deal about their size difference in every other aspect. Shoulders, biceps, thighs, waist, hands. He’d go feral every time Felix bent over and asked him sweetly to rail him into the mattress. 

Chan takes the bait. He crowds into Felix’s space and uses both hands to cage him between his body and the door. A smile creeps across his face, crooked and charming. 

“You wanna?” he asks, eyes flickering down to Felix’s glossy, parted lips. 

In lieu of a verbal answer, Felix reaches a hand out and tenderly palms Chan through his jeans, earning a ragged sigh from the other. He’s half-hard and twitching, his stupidly big cock so familiar in Felix’s grasp. They sway closer, lips inches apart until they’re ghosting over each other. Chan tries to swoop in to seal the deal, but Felix squeezes him and he shudders, a weak moan spilling from his plush mouth. 

“You said you wanna get fucked?” Felix whispers, lowering his voice an entire octave. Chan nods, drunk on nothing but Felix’s presence. He may be bigger and therefore stronger, but Felix is by far quicker. In one swift movement, he grabs Chan by the wrist and holds it to his back, uses his grip to spin him around towards the counter and bend him over the cold porcelain. They both stare into the mirror, Chan flushed pink and panting, Felix pressed firmly against his back, breath hot on his neck. 

“I want you to watch. Really look when I take you like a fucking slut. All desperate and needy in the bathroom mirror.” 

Chapter Text

If someone were to ask Chan how they got here, to retrace the steps that led to this very moment, he’d probably tell them he has no fucking idea. 

Maybe it’s because they’re on break. A few short days between packed schedules. A rented house away from the city, away from staff and cameras. But they’ve taken plenty of mini vacations together and it’s never led to this. 

Maybe it’s the warm, humid air. The even warmer rumbling waters of a hot tub large enough to fit everyone. Each one of them had sighed and sunk deeper below the surface, submerging up to their chins and letting the bubbles soothe and relax their tense muscles. But this isn’t something that just happens. Not out of the blue at least.

Chan blames Felix. Jisung and Hyunjin too. 

He’s well aware of the fact that he’s beyond whipped for his beautiful, wonderful, mischievous boyfriend. But Minho and Changbin are absolutely no better when it comes to their respective partners. 

So here they are. Played into their little, plotting hands.

“Hyung,” Felix mewls against Chan’s open mouth. He’s rocking in Chan’s lap, bouncing on his cock and sending ripples through the water. “Hyung, wanna turn around. Wanna see.” 

Well, it is quite the sight. 

Minho has Jisung bent over the side of the hot tub, ass in the air, panting and whining as he fucks him from behind. His body is so strong, fluid, each thrust measured and wicked against Jisung’s trembling frame. Chan’s heard them fuck through various walls over the years, but Jisung’s cries have never sounded so desperate.

Changbin and Hyunjin are more reserved, facing each other while Hyunjin rolls his hips languidly in Changbin’s lap. Constant praise drips from Changbin’s lips like honey, whispered in Hyunjin’s ear between filthy kisses, pulling the prettiest flush to the dancer’s cheeks. 

Seungmin and Jeongin sit the farthest away from everyone else, shoulder to shoulder, not really touching. Chan fights the urge to check in on them again, just to make sure they’re okay and not forever scarred by the debauchery in front of them. But Seungmin’s arm moves beneath the water, stroking himself, calm and collected. And Jeongin watches with rapt attention, flickering between each couple with wide, mesmerized eyes.

Chan somehow manages to make eye contact with Changbin and then Minho, a mutual understanding clear in their heated gaze. They’re okay. This is fucking insane, but they’re okay.

Felix clenches around his cock, petulant to find Chan’s attention isn’t on him. Chan hushes him, kisses his shiny mouth and sucks his lower lip between his teeth. “Everyone looks so pretty, baby,” he purrs, bucking his hips into Felix’s warm, pliant body. “This what you wanted? For all of us to feel good?”

“Yeah,” Felix moans. The ends of his blonde hair are wet, sticking to his neck and freckled shoulders. “Jinnie and I t-talked about it, just fantasizing,” he gasps and shudders when Chan bites at his collarbone, leaving marks while he can. “But then Jisung said you guys wouldn’t be able to resist if we showed you how m-much we wanted it.”

Chan pulls Felix off his cock with a hiss, just to turn him around and fill him back up again. He hooks his chin over his shoulder, mouthing at his warm skin as they watch their members fall into pleasure. “You knew we’d give it to you—I’d give it to you.”

Felix hums, high on the undeniable scent of sex in the air. “Daddy gives me everything, anything I want.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“D-Daddy! Daddy, Daddy please…”

Chan hums into his glass of bourbon as he takes a generous sip. It burns as it goes down, like lightning in his throat; hot and so, so good. Felix gasps on the bed a handful of feet away, back arched and eyes locked on Chan, reaching out to him with greedy little fingers. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Chan asks, voice smooth like melted dark chocolate. He slides the glass onto the side table and reaches his own hand down to palm over his aching cock, trapped beneath the expensive cashmere of his dress pants. There’s something electrifying about watching his husband writhe in pleasure. He’ll never grow tired of tearing Felix apart just to put him back together again, to pull orgasm after orgasm from his trembling body until he’s wet with tears and cum. 

It’s a sight so beautiful, so breathtaking—Chan would be selfish not to share. 

For lack of a better term, Chan is filthy fucking rich; drowning in millions of dollars and assets he’s worked hard to obtain. But he’s always eager to share that wealth, to give others a taste of what it’s like to have it all. The same attitude applies to just about everything he owns. Even Felix.

“Need more,” Felix keens. His toes curl against the satin sheets. Sweat glistens on his brow like iridescent glitter. Pride blooms in Chan’s chest. 

The man above his beloved pants like a dog as he thrusts into Felix with impressive vigor. He seems like a sensible guy, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. All but jumped at the bait when Felix approached him down at the hotel bar dressed in a little silk number that barely covered his lacy white panties. Chan had nodded his approval and handled introductions, not fully happy until a lengthy NDA was read thoroughly and signed. 

He doesn’t remember the guy’s name. Felix probably never learned it to begin with. It’s not about him, it’s never about anyone but them. The thick, syrupy feeling Chan gets in his stomach whenever he gets to show Felix off. The devotion in Felix’s eyes, just happy to please and be pleasured in whatever way Chan desires.

The man’s hips lose rhythm. Chan narrows his eyes. “He cums first,” he demands, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “Always.” Felix yelps when a rough hand fumbles for his weeping cock, so uncoordinated and messy. Disappointing. “Be nice to what’s mine or I’ll throw you out onto the street.” 

That gets the guy’s attention. He quickly softens his ministrations, moving with more purpose and attention to detail. Chan watches Felix closely—his lithe body, the supple swell of his chest, rising and falling rapidly as he’s fucked into the mattress. They lock eyes and Felix pouts, lower lip shiny and wobbling. 

“Wanna cum with Daddy,” he whines.

Chan can’t argue with that. He settles back in the seat and takes his time unbuckling his belt, sliding down the zipper, and pulling his cock from its confines. He hisses, the direct touch already enough to push him over the edge, but he holds the feeling off with a tight squeeze and waits. 

“What else, baby? What else can Daddy do for you?” 

Felix has the audacity to act shy, shoulders bunching up around his pink cheeks. “Don’t I look so pretty?” he sighs, reaching his arms above his head and angling his hips just so to give Chan the best view of the cock spearing him open. “Tell me.” 

Chan practically growls his praise. “My beautiful baby. Taking cock so well like a good girl. You like when Daddy watches you?” Felix nods, breath hitching as the air is fucked out of him in little ah-ah-ahs. Chan strokes himself from base to tip, tight, imagining it’s Felix’s heat wrapped around him instead. “You’re perfect. My pretty babygirl.”

The guy must do something right, but Chan doesn’t think he deserves that much credit. Felix calls out for Chan with a cry as he makes a mess all over himself, ropes of thick, pearly cum painting his toned belly. He falls into overstimulation quicker than ever before, a pinch between his brows that spurs Chan into action. 

He surges forward and crosses the short distance to the bed, uncaring as he pulls the man off and shoves him away with an order to grab his clothes and get out. The beginning of a protest bubbles up his throat, but Chan shoots him a glare that could kill and he scrambles for the door. 

“Daddy,” Felix coos with a smile, eyes glossy and dark. 

“Hi there,” Chan whispers, crowding over his love and pressing gentle kisses to his freckled nose. “Feel good? Looks like it did.”

Felix makes a betrayed little sound and wiggles stubbornly on the sheets. “You didn’t finish. You can—on me, please. Anywhere. Just—” he reaches for Chan’s cock, but squeals when Chan grabs both his wrists and pins them above his head. Chan pecks his lips before straddling his torso, hovering over the cum that’s still dripping down Felix’s sides.

“Yeah? You want it?” Chan groans, feeling entirely selfish but happy to oblige Felix’s wishes. That sweet, trusting face stares up at him, mouth open, tongue wet and drooling over his bottom lip. He’s gone too soon, finishing with a curse as he covers Felix with his cum. It lands messily over his chin and lips, pooling on his tongue and flushed cheeks. 

The perfect final touches to Chan’s most precious piece of art. 

Chapter Text

“Felix?”

A familiar voice floats through the cold January air, mingling with the falling snowflakes and chilling Felix to the bone. He pretends he doesn’t hear it, just continues to walk with his head down, eyes focused on every step he takes over the dirty, slush-covered sidewalk. 

“Felix! Hey!” 

A few more meters and he can turn the corner. Disappear into a gift shop until all memories of that voice are gone, vanquished from his mind once again. 

“Maybe it’s not him, Ji,” says another voice, just as painful to hear as the first one. “Let’s go home.” 

Stubborn as ever, the initial voice mumbles a determined No, wait and sloshes through scattered salt crystals and melted ice. Felix’s heart rate spikes in his hollow chest. It rattles his ribcage until the bones shake and threaten to fall like icicles, sharp yet impossibly fragile. Every part of him feels the same, like he could shatter to pieces with just one touch.

He pivots on his ankle and greets the outstretched hand before it can wrap around his arm. He smiles, tight lipped and frail.

“I knew it was you,” Jisung breathes, returning a much more genuine grin. Gummy, heart-shaped, gut-wrenchingly kind. “Felix, how are you? It’s been ages.” 

Over his shoulder, Felix sees Minho approach slowly and observe him with careful eyes. He looks nervous, maybe even a bit sorry, but not willing to say anything more than a curt hello. Felix clears his throat and winces at how dry it is. He hasn’t spoken in days. 

“I’m doing okay,” he answers and figures he might as well put in some sort of effort. “How are—” Does he want to know? Not really. “Are you enjoying the holidays?” This way he’ll hopefully receive no more than a yes or no response. 

“Oh, very much so,” Jisung says softly, looking to his alpha for confirmation. Minho nods his agreement and shoves his hands in his coat pockets. “We just got back from visiting Min’s parents in Incheon. It was really nice to see them and spend time with family.” Jisung’s voice falters on the last word, throat bobbing as he gulps and curls freezing red fingers around Minho’s bicep.

Felix contemplates his next move. He’s surprised to find he doesn’t feel much at all now that he’s really had a chance to look at the couple in front of him. A miniscule part of him aches somewhere in his chest, but other than that he is…dull.

So he prepares his goodbyes, utters the appropriate response and takes his first step back. He has to brace himself against a harsh gust of wind, forced to bunch his shoulders to his ears and wrap his arms around his torso. The gale causes Jisung’s scarf to partially unravel, slipping off his shoulder to reveal a mating bite. Still bruised and swollen where Minho’s canines broke skin.

Suddenly, Felix feels everything all at once. 

Jisung’s naturally doe-like eyes grow wider, confused and rightfully hurt to see Felix turn away so quickly. Felix purposefully ignores Minho’s knowing gaze. 

If he could run home, he would, but the winter terrain is wicked. Salt stains his shoes and the hem of his jeans with dirty, off-white smudges. He can feel the same effect on his heart and in his lungs, like mold growing and spreading from the inside out. Felix blinks away his tears and doesn’t stop until he’s staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

On his neck there is a bite. Healed and perfect, the immortal proof of a love so unconditional Felix thought he would die from it. Every ridge, every indent of that charming, crooked smile is carved into him. 

What began as life’s greatest blessing is now his cruelest curse.

Only months ago he could press his fingers to the bite and feel the person tethered to the other end. A warmth, a loving caress, a kiss from devoted lips. There was nothing more satisfying than seeing his own mark engraved into beautiful pale skin. They belonged to each other. 

No one tells you how debilitating the pain is of having your other half ripped away. It burns. It scrapes against your soft insides until you’re raw and bleeding. A merciless reminder of everything you have lost. And that the mark you used to wear with pride is now what taints you. 

But perhaps the worst part is feeling nothing at all. When the rope finally snaps—a messy, ragged break, and you are left with no one but yourself. Numb, with only a meaningless scar. 

Sometimes Felix wishes he could cut the mark out of his skin. Slice away at it until it’s unrecognizable. He’s come close, has felt the cool metal sink into his flesh too many times to count. Only then, when he’s ready to forget once and for all, does he feel his alpha’s warm embrace. 

Not yet, little one, he whispers, not yet.

Chapter Text

Felix is pretty sure he could spend the rest of his life right here—nestled between his boyfriend’s thighs—and set a record as the happiest omega in the world. 

“Shit,” Chan hisses above him through clenched teeth. His hands twist further in the sheets, surrounded by hoodies and t-shirts and sweatpants from each other and members of their pack. He looks so pretty; curls damp with sweat, plump lips swollen from biting them, chiseled torso flushed peachy pink and absolutely glowing. “Lixie.”  

Felix presses wet kisses to Chan’s mound and hums as he slides his tongue over his pulsing clit, teasing, before licking between his sticky folds. He drinks sweet slick by the mouthful straight from the source, gulping it down and spreading Chan further apart with his fingers in search of more. 

“Taste so good, hyung,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “How can you taste so good?”

“Shut up,” Chan laughs, squeaky and delirious. Preheat rattles his strong body, making him pliant and moldable. It’s only during times like these that he’ll let Felix dote on him this much, keep him horizontal and relaxed so Felix can give him everything he deserves. 

The telltale signs of Chan’s fast approaching orgasm are the cutest thing. His thighs shake and twitch around Felix’s head, fighting so hard not to squeeze him too much. His moans rise in pitch and devolve into little whimpers, soft and desperate as he tangles his fingers in Felix’s hair and shoves him deeper into his soaked pussy. 

Felix is happy to be used like this. He throbs between his legs, dripping onto the bedding an embarrassing amount for someone who’s not in preheat himself. Chan is just so addicting when he’s extra needy and not afraid to show it. 

“Gonna cum, m’gonna, don’t stop—just like that, please,” the elder pants, back arching off the mattress. Felix bares down and keeps a steady pace, dipping in Chan’s hole with his tongue before moving up to suck on his clit. “Fuck, yes—hnng—yes, baby. My baby.” 

Fresh slick gushes over Felix’s chin and down his neck as Chan comes undone with a litany of praise for Felix’s skilled mouth. He allows Felix to clean him up, slow and attentive as he trembles through the aftershocks, and pulls him up by the hair. 

Felix smiles at his mate, slick-drunk and smug. “Messy omega.” 

Chan rolls his eyes and shuffles around until they’re laying face-to-face on their sides. “Says the one who needs a whole mattress protector when they’re in heat.” 

“I’ve never heard you complain,” Felix points out matter-of-factly. “You love how wet I get.” 

“Hm,” Chan hums, his eyes half-lidded and warm. He leans forward to run his lips and tongue over Felix’s chin, licking away the remnants of his pleasure. “I do.” 

Felix catches him in a kiss, slow and filthy, and moans at the lingering taste of Chan on both of their tongues. He’s always sweet, but his slick gets so honey-thick and saccharine when he’s in cycle. They shift closer and the mattress dips under their combined weight. Chan cups Felix’s cheek in one palm and uses his other hand to hike Felix’s leg over his hip. 

“You want a toy?” Felix whispers, nose twitching as Chan’s peach cobbler scent spikes once again. His refractory period is becoming shorter and shorter, warning them of how close he is to entering his proper heat. 

“Not yet,” Chan assures, leaving gentle pecks all over Felix’s face. 

The thought of using a toy on Chan sends sizzling warmth through Felix’s veins. He loves watching his boyfriend take knots, fake or otherwise. Loves the way his body sucks them in, thick in his pretty cunt. Sometimes Chan likes having both holes filled. Likes presenting on his hands and knees while Felix readies him for two knotted dildos with his fingers and tongue. 

Chan presses closer and slots his thigh between Felix’s legs with dark eyes. Their slick pussies slide together, the wet squelch obscene in the otherwise quiet room. “Want it like this,” he sighs, already rolling his hips in smooth, mesmerizing waves. 

Felix chokes at the delicious friction. He wraps an arm over Chan’s shoulders and nuzzles into his neck, letting the elder control the pace. “Channie.” 

“Yes?” he teases. Fingers grip at Felix, jiggling the plush give of his hip and ass. There’s not a whole lot to hold onto—not compared to Chan’s generous genetics—but Chan has never once complained, entirely obsessed with everything about his mate. “Fuck, I love your pussy. S’so good. Perfect pussy. Always so wet’n’fuckin dripping for me.” 

Memories of being judged for his relationship flash through Felix’s mind. People just don’t understand. Being with an alpha has never been the endgame for Felix. He met Chan and that was it, he was it. How could he want or need anything more? 

“Love you,” Felix mewls, feeling so grateful, so precious in Chan’s arms. 

“Love you more,” Chan pants, pulling Felix from his neck to connect their lips. What starts as a kiss turns into the two of them just whining and moaning against each other’s parted lips, overwhelmed and greedy. “S-Sorry, baby, m’close. You’re just so—”

“No, no,” Felix coos, “me too. Please.” 

Chan cums first, his cries lovely and melodic. He holds Felix still and ruts against him, the final touch Felix needs to follow him over the edge. Slick coats their inner thighs, probably ruining the sheets and someone’s t-shirt, but neither of them care. They breathe together, labored and shaky in their chests. 

Felix giggles as Chan kisses his nose, eager for whatever the next few days have in store. 

Chapter Text

It’s only been eight minutes and Felix is already overwhelmed. 

His own curiosity led him here after a bit of research and plenty of encouragement from his best friend. He’s not necessarily dressed the part—sticking out like a sore thumb in plain work slacks and a button-down. Meanwhile, Hyunjin sauntered in like he owns the place, dressed in flowy black chiffon and ridiculously tight pants.

The club is dimly lit and rather quiet, but everywhere Felix looks something new catches his eye. There are people on small, makeshift platforms in each corner of the room. Most of them dressed in gear made of leather or latex, decorated in chains and harnesses or sometimes nothing at all. Those that aren’t on stage simply watch from the audience, sipping on water or soda. 

“Ah! Chan hyung is demoing tonight,” Hyunjin says excitedly from Felix’s side. He wraps gentle fingers around Felix’s arm and directs the two of them over to the furthest corner of the club where most of the audience’s attention is focused. 

“Who’s Chan hyung?” Felix asks, almost tripping over his feet when Hyunjin snags them three empty seats towards the back. 

Before Felix can get an answer, Changbin plops down in the third seat and hands everyone a bottle of water. “Do we really have to watch this? I already know all of this old dog’s tricks,” he says playfully. 

Hyunjin whacks his boyfriend on the shoulder. “Hush. It’s important to support our friends.” 

No one says anything after that, so Felix settles into his chair and sets sight on the stage where two people are in the midst of a scene. His gaze wanders over the set-up; recognizing a few pieces of furniture he’s seen online. The cross against the back wall sticks out to him, daunting yet fascinating to see in person. His eyes then fall on the sub, squirming but otherwise content where he’s bound to a leather bench. Blotches of pink and red litter his bare skin, mostly on his shoulders and thighs, but deeper shades of crimson and purple bloom over his exposed backside. 

Felix gulps. He’s not sure how he feels about pain just yet. 

The dom stalks back and forth across the stage, circling the sub like a shark in the water. Felix is surprised to see the way he’s dressed; rather formal in a sleek black suit, the blazer fully unbuttoned to show off his unfairly muscled torso. 

“That’s Chan hyung,” Hyunjin whispers. Felix can feel his smug smile pressed to the shell of his ear. 

From then on, Felix is unable to look away from the man. Chan’s presence demands it as he moves with easy confidence, his shiny dress shoes thumping across the wooden platform with every step he takes. His focus is mostly on the sub and his needs, but with each new toy he brings out, he stops to explain its features and proper use to the audience. 

The newest one catches Felix’s attention like a moth to a flame. It’s made of matte leather, the handle thick and sturdy in Chan’s palm, who runs his gloved fingers through a waterfall of thin, dark red strands with little beads tied on the ends. A flogger, he calls it as he flicks his wrist and twirls the toy in a figure-eight pattern. When the tails rain down on the sub’s shoulders, Felix swears he feels it too, a shiver running down his spine. It doesn’t look like it hurts, but then Chan raises his arm up higher than before and the leather cracks as it hits bare skin. 

The sub flinches with his entire body, a sob leaving his lips with every strike. Heat blisters under Felix’s collar. 

Chan runs his hand over the new marks on the sub’s ass and leans down to whisper in his ear. They exchange quiet words until the sub nods his head and Chan undoes the cuffs around his wrists and ankles. 

“Well?”

Felix’s eyes are still locked on the stage, but he turns his head slightly in Hyunjin’s direction. “Well what?”

“What do you think?” Hyunjin asks, a good-natured eye roll evident in his tone. 

Chan holds out a fluffy robe for the sub to slip over his shoulders and walks him to the side of the platform. There, another man helps him down and presses a kiss to his temple before exchanging pleasantries with Chan and disappearing down a hallway. 

“It’s…nice,” Felix says. He’s a bit disappointed it’s over to be honest, wondering how often Chan does demonstrations like this. 

Changbin leans over Hyunjin to poke Felix’s arm, a knowing smile on his face. “Just nice?”

Too many thoughts swirl through Felix’s head. Something tugs at his heart as he watches Chan wipe down the bench and clean up the surrounding area. Most people begin to murmur and stand up, already looking for a new show to watch. Felix is about to say something so his friends don’t think he’s lost it, but then Chan turns to the remaining audience and claps his hands together once. 

“Would anyone like to try it out?”

A few hands shoot up. Felix’s heart pounds in his chest. 

“You should do it!” Hyunjin whisper-yells, suddenly all bouncy in his chair. “Chan is super gentle with the beginners.” 

Felix raises his hand. 

And immediately wants to put it down because what the fuck what is he doing he’s going to embarrass himself—

Hyunjin clears his throat not-so-subtly and stretches his arm to point at Felix. Chan’s eyes snap to Hyunjin, a fond smile on his handsome face, and then he looks at Felix and his whole demeanor darkens. 

“In the back there. What’s your name, darling?” 

Hyunjin speaks up after a few seconds of silence. “His name is—!”

And Chan cuts him off in an instant, one eyebrow arched, stern and unimpressed. “I don’t believe I asked you.” 

Felix stares dumbfounded as Changbin hooks a finger under the choker around Hyunjin’s neck and pulls him against his broad chest. His best friend shrinks into the touch, his usual boldness fading away into something sweet and pliant. 

The steady tapping of a toe on wood brings Felix back to Chan. He stands on shaky legs. “F-Felix,” he says, “My name is Felix.” 

Chan tests the name out on his plush lips and asks, “Would you like to join me?” He holds out a hand for him to take as Felix weaves through chairs and watchful eyes. The leather glove covering his hand is warm in Felix’s own, his grip comforting when he helps Felix climb onto the stage.

“Hello,” Chan greets quietly, shielding Felix from the audience and bright lights. “Have you ever done something like this before?” 

Felix can feel himself flush red. “No, sorry. I’m—”

“That’s alright,” the dom says with a kind smile. “I’ll take good care of you, yeah?” 

“Okay, yeah,” Felix nods and lets his gaze wander over the stage. He regards the bench warily, not too keen on the idea of being bent over in front of an audience, but Chan is no doubt a great dom, already catching onto Felix’s hesitations. 

He motions for Felix to follow him over to the metal cross against the wall, its stature tall and padded with black leather around the middle. “I won’t strap you in,” Chan starts, pointing to two large steel rings on either upper arm of the X. “But it’s nice to have something to hold onto.” 

Felix’s hands are surprisingly steady as he curls his fingers over the rings, back to the audience, and looks back at Chan for guidance. 

“Lovely,” Chan reveres, disappearing from Felix’s view for a brief moment. “Now widen your stance just a bit, there you go, darling.” Felix shuffles until his feet line up with the bottom of the cross and relaxes into the new position. It puts a slight strain on his muscles, but the stretch feels nice, grounding even. 

Finally, Chan comes back into view with a dark purple flogger in hand. Its tails are a little thicker than the one he used before and there are no beads on the ends. Felix likes the way it looks in Chan’s grip. 

“Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

“Yes,” Felix assures, nerves bubbling into anticipation in his belly. 

Chan hums, satisfied. “One more question. Do I have permission to touch you, Felix?”

Felix’s lashes flutter against his cheeks. “Y-Yes.”

He’s given one last lookover and Chan steps away. A hush falls over the audience as Chan’s shoes go back to thumping over the stage. Felix had forgotten about them as he got situated, but quickly focuses on quieting his mind, closing his eyes, and listening for any sort of cue from the man behind him. 

All he hears is the soft whoosh of the tails as they’re spun through the air. He pictures Chan watching him carefully, deciding where he wants to strike. What he doesn’t expect is the gentle glide of the tails over his back, tickling his skin through his shirt. The sensation moves down towards his ass and thighs, just running over his body, light as a feather. 

It makes the first hit that much more shocking. 

Felix gasps. Little dapples of heat emanate from his right thigh. He wasn’t hit hard, but he narrows in on the pain and breathes through it. 

“Color?” 

“Green.” 

The next hit comes quicker, followed by another in short succession on his ass. Each strike makes Felix’s knees feel weaker, but he rights himself and readies for more. Chan splits his attention between the plushest parts of Felix’s body, only venturing higher when Felix starts to pant and lean into the burn. The tails on his upper back feel sharper through his thin shirt, leaving miniscule bolts of lightning in their wake. 

Just when Felix thinks he’s able to anticipate Chan’s next move, the hit lands somewhere else entirely, or faster, or harder until Felix finally bites back a cry of pleasure-pain before it can escape his throat. He rests his forehead against the cool metal cross and quells his ragged breathing, all while eager for the next blow. 

Instead, a hand fits tenderly into the small of his back. “Color?” Chan asks, rubbing his thumb over the knobs of Felix’s spine.

“M’green,” Felix whispers. 

“You took it so well, darling,” Chan says softly, brushing stray blonde hair from Felix’s eyes. He helps Felix let go of the metal rings and steady himself on his own two legs. “Come on, let’s get you back to Hyunjinnie.” 

✧

Later that night, the same warm hand slides up Felix’s back, purposely running over all the red marks hidden underneath his shirt. Chan offers him a crooked smile when Felix turns around with wide eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Hello,” Felix squeaks. 

“Are you feeling okay? Nothing hurts too bad?” When Chan asks, he knowingly twists a finger into a sensitive spot on Felix’s shoulder, pulling a sweet gasp from Felix’s lips. 

“No—I mean yes. And no.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “Yes, I’m okay. And no, I…quite like the way it feels.” 

Chan’s eyes flash. “Do you?”

“Mhm.” 

“Then perhaps you’d like to play with me again sometime?”

Chapter Text

When Chan was a young boy, he dreamt of life everlasting. 

Born in a time when immortality was still just a mere fantasy, he was sure it’d be figured out by the time he turned thirty. Scientists and engineers alike talked of ways to prolong human cells, to stop the aging process altogether so humanity’s greatest minds could continue to grow and better the world. 

When Chan turned twenty, he dreamt of love. Of loving and being loved in return.

His work made it hard to maintain relationships aside from those he spoke to over a headset. He became a master hacker, able to decode and take down the most hard-to-crack software. It paid well, but he couldn’t be far from his computer for longer than it took to eat and sleep.

As Chan turned thirty, the world around him changed drastically.

The tech industry skyrocketed as new advancements were made everyday. Low level robots replaced people in factories and office spaces, developing AI destroyed the education system, and those who were rich only became richer. Human connection had run dry. 

For his forty-fifth birthday, Chan was given Felix.

Immortality was never something living creatures could achieve. So those same ambitious scientists and engineers built something that could outlive them all. Proof of their efforts. Hope that their legacies would survive along with them. 

Them, being the Pacemakers.

✯

Chan leaves the android in the box for the first week. He brings it inside only after double checking there’s no one lurking around and locks all five deadbolts on his door. The sender is marked unknown, but if he had to guess, it’s probably some gag gift from Changbin. 

On the outside of the box, in bold black letters, it reads: 

A COMPANION FOR LIFE. BOTH YOURS AND THEIRS.

Chan doesn’t need a companion. There’s a reason he doesn’t leave his house. 

Still, his eyes linger on the box every time he walks through the living room. He stands and stares at the sleek chrome surface while he drinks his bitter morning coffee. In the evenings, he leaves a light on in the room and tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to trip on his way to the bathroom in the dead of night. 

✯

Chan opens the box after downing three glasses of whiskey one lonely afternoon. He doesn’t like to drink, but he had to reboot his entire computer system after something tried to hack into his long list of blackmail files, and there’s nothing else to do. 

That’s when he learns the Pacemaker’s name. Felix. Each android has a unique moniker, chosen at random by whoever designed it. He browses through the instruction manual and peels back layers of plastic and styrofoam until Felix’s sleeping face comes into view. 

It’s blonde. A man, but Chan could have guessed that. Freckles dot his sun-kissed skin, far too realistic than it has any right to be. If he were human, Felix couldn’t be more than twenty-five years old. 

Chan throws a blanket over the box and goes to bed. 

He doesn’t sleep. 

✯

Changbin calls him while he’s making dinner a few days later. 

“Did you open it?” He sounds excited, like the gift was more for him than it was for Chan.

It would be convenient to lie, but they have too much trust between them for that. “Yes,” Chan says, purposefully vague. His hands shake as he cuts into a genetically modified carrot, bright orange and as thick as his forearm. 

“And?” Changbin prods. Sirens wail in the background amidst a cacophony of shouts, letting Chan know he’s on the job. 

“What am I, of all people, supposed to do with something like this?” 

A non-committal grunt vibrates through the phone, interrupted by rustling and high winds. “I dunno. It can probably make a better dinner than you can. Keep the house clean too.” 

“Fuck you,” Chan jabs, no heat behind his words. He misses talking to his friend. 

“Ah!” Changbin shouts, too loud in Chan’s ear. “It can do that as well apparently. Some guy told me if you get bored you can order a pus—”

Chan takes it back. “Goodbye, Binnie.” 

“No, I’m serious! It’s a companion. It can be whatever you want it to be.” 

✯

Felix powers on gracefully, like waking from a dream. 

The first signs of life are the rise and fall of his chest, an imitation of the real thing, purely aesthetic. His thick, dark lashes flutter open to reveal starry brown eyes and pupils that adjust to the light. Engines whirr softly before falling silent. A warm smile pulls at perfectly sculpted lips, from them; a single word.

“Hello.”

From his place on the couch, Chan is speechless. Felix’s voice is deeper than he imagined it to be, smooth and rich like hot chocolate. It’s almost human. Almost.

“My name is Felix. I am your new companion Pacemaker. Is there a name you’d like me to call you?”

He’s dressed like people did fifteen years ago—when smog didn’t darken the skies and hide the sun. Just the sight of a simple t-shirt and jeans throws Chan back a whole decade. 

Felix tilts his head, calculating. 

“Uh, Chan—or Chris. Whichever you prefer.” 

“Which do you prefer?” Felix asks, politely looking around the room. Chan hauled the empty box into the basement, unsure of what else to do with it. The android just stands there, hands at his sides.

“Chris is fine,” Chan decides. No one else calls him Chris anymore. 

Felix takes a small step forward, his movements perfectly natural. “It’s nice to meet you, Chris.” 

✯

Without asking, Felix brings Chan his morning coffee. He sets the steaming mug on his desk and smiles when Chan picks it up. The usual black, murky liquid he’s used to is light and creamy. 

“What’s this?” he asks. Despite his hesitance, he takes a sip.

“Coffee with milk and sugar. I do not need caffeine to function, so I do not know what it tastes like. Is it bad?” Felix looks so hopeful and genuine as he watches Chan take a longer gulp. 

It’s too sweet. “No,” Chan says instead. “It’s great.” 

From then on, Felix prepares Chan’s coffee every morning exactly the same. He makes breakfast, dinner and lunch too. Sometimes dessert if Chan orders the right ingredients; brownies and carrot cake and chocolate chip cookies. Changbin was right, it’s all far better than anything Chan could accomplish on his own. 

✯

Weeks pass. They move around each other in relative silence, just existing. Chan grows used to the routine sounds of Felix puttering around in the kitchen or vacuuming the hallway. He doesn’t let the android do everything on his own despite his insistence, picking up after himself and beating Felix to the laundry when he can. 

An important job comes up. Chan works tirelessly hunting down information and blowing through security systems for Changbin and the others. Rarely does he ask what it is they’re doing, that’s not in his job description, but he stays awake, worried when his messages go unanswered for hours at a time. 

The light flickers on in his office. 

“Chris,” Felix says, stepping into the room. “You have been awake for almost thirty-eight hours. My programming tells me you need rest.” 

“I’m working,” Chan replies, monotone. Changbin’s tracker keeps glitching in and out. Chan can’t help if he doesn’t know where he is. He’s no use from behind a computer. 

A warm hand grazes his shoulder, making him jump. Felix blinks. “I must advise you to sleep. It is imperative to your wellbeing.” 

“Later,” Chan grunts. He has a read on Jisung and Minho. If he just—

His monitors shut down, one by one. 

Chan stares wide-eyed at the black screens, appalled by Felix’s gall. He’s exhausted, of course he is, but the others need him. What fucking good is he if he can’t—

“Let me escort you to bed,” Felix says cheerily. 

“Get out,” Chan whispers, pupils shaking. It’ll take at least a few minutes for him to get back online. His head throbs as he flips the proper switches and presses the right buttons. Felix is a robot, he reminds himself, unable to process human emotions at the best of times, made to act as a maid or a plaything or whatever the fuck. He is just doing what he was programmed to do. But Felix touches him again, his surreal skin so close to comforting but not, and Chan snaps. “Get the hell out!”

Felix seems to pick up on that well enough. 

✯

It’s not until fourteen hours later that Chan is finally done. His friends are safe. Felix is cleaning the kitchen. 

Chan feels weird apologizing, but something didn’t sit right with him, his thoughts of Felix as less than a person leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He talks like a human, walks and smiles like one. Chan can at least treat him as such. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaning against the counter, barely supporting his weight. “I understand you were trying to help.” 

Felix finishes his task of drying a plate and placing it in the cabinet before turning around. His expression is calm and pleasant. “There is no need to apologize, Chris. I very clearly overstepped a boundary of yours.” 

“No,” Chan shakes his head. “I overreacted. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome in our home.” Our. He said it without even thinking and he can't take it back, but it doesn’t feel wrong. 

Something flashes in Felix’s eyes. “Are you ready to sleep now?” 

A light-hearted scoff leaves Chan’s lips. He smiles. “Yes. I really am.” 

Felix is like a little shadow, following Chan to his room. He’s faintly aware of the fact that it’s the first time the Pacemaker has ever been in here, finally reaching all the corners of Chan’s life. It’s not awkward either, as Chan strips down to his boxers and all but tumbles into bed. 

Even as he settles, he knows he won’t fall asleep easily. Maybe it’s years of constant insomnia, or maybe it’s Felix, leaning down to press the palm of his hand to Chan’s chest, right over his heart.

Felix frowns. “Would you like me to hold you while you rest? Physical touch is said to calm a racing heart.” 

Chan doesn’t say yes, far too dumbstruck, but he doesn’t say no either. 

“If you want.” 

He expects Felix to ask him again what he himself wants, but he doesn’t. The android crawls into his bed with feline-like grace and waits for Chan to lay how he wishes. He goes with the safest option and curls up towards the wall, surprised by how warm Felix is as he spoons Chan from behind. 

It’s shameful how swiftly Chan’s thoughts stray to Felix’s supposed other purposes as they lay pressed together. Like this, Felix is as real as real can be in Chan’s mind, breaths slow and even, nose brushing the back of Chan’s neck. 

Felix doesn’t sleep, but lying in each other’s arms at night quickly becomes another one of their routines. 

✯

Changbin calls. His serious tone sucks the air from Chan’s lungs, pulling him away from where he and Felix are making dinner. 

“Seungmin was jumped,” he says, voice shaking. “We don’t know who did it or what they were after, but they got him, Chan.” 

“Is he…?” Chan can’t make himself finish the sentence. The room spins around him. 

“Not yet. I don’t trust the cops to look into it and all the hospitals are full,” Changbin takes a breath. “Hyunnie is doing his best to keep him stable.” 

The reality is harsh. It’s not the first time they’ve lost someone and it won’t be the last, but Seungmin is a good kid. Smart and quick on his feet. Chan wishes he could say they met in person.

“We have Jeongin though, so if worst really does come to worst, we can—”

Chan rubs his forehead. “Jeongin? What does Jeongin have to do with this?” 

“He’s Seungmin’s Pacemaker. I heard the process isn’t too difficult—shit.” Hushed whispers send static through the phone. Chan strains his ears to listen in. “I gotta go, he’s—I’ll call you back, okay?” 

The call ends before Chan can say another word. Familiar guilt spreads through his chest like jagged tree branches, poking holes through his heart. He often forgets how safe he is here, tucked away in his house in the hills, away from the danger his friends face in the city.

“Chris?”

Chan finds himself on the couch, tears soaking into Felix’s t-shirt. His pain is silent, trapped in his throat as he’s rocked back and forth to a hummed tune he doesn’t recognize. Its melody is sweet, a balm on his aching soul. 

When he pulls back, Felix wipes away his tears. Chan tries to thank him. 

But he’s silenced with a kiss. A chaste press of soft lips on his slack mouth, there and gone before Chan can truly appreciate the tender touch. He wants more. The comfort, the warmth, the firm line of another body caressing his own. 

Those feelings are quickly replaced with confusion and panic. 

“Felix, why…”

The android regards him with such earnesty. “Is that not how humans comfort each other?” 

Chan must imagine the pink hues blooming across Felix’s cheeks. He shakes his head of all thoughts and laughs at what has become of his life. Friends who are willing to die for what they believe in. A Pacemaker who somehow manages to amaze him with something new every single day. 

“That’s not—you don’t have to do that. With me,” he says, setting a boundary he knows he won’t keep. 

✯

Felix has grown fond of wearing Chan’s clothes once he discovered it was something he could get away with. 

Unluckily for Chan, it does absolutely no good for his rotted brain. He hasn’t heard from Changbin in a few days despite his check-ins, so he focuses his attention elsewhere. 

Elsewhere being Felix.

At first it was just an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, something new to wear aside from the clothes he was sent in. Then it was hoodies instead of t-shirts. After that, just hoodies. It’s nice to see Felix comfortable in their home, truly, but Chan can’t keep his eyes off of him. 

Something else changes too. Felix gravitates towards Chan more often, always looking for different ways to touch him. All innocent; playing with his fingers, massaging his shoulders, rubbing his back as he sleeps. Chan likes to think he’s gotten used to it.

He walks into the kitchen for a glass of water late one night. Felix is already there, putting away a recent batch of cookies, dressed in one of Chan’s black hoodies from decades ago. Chan is good. He rests a hand on Felix’s lower back as he reaches into the cupboard over his head. 

Felix nudges Chan’s shoulder with his cheek. 

Chan pats his hip in acknowledgement. 

Felix leans further into him. 

Chan chooses his glass and sets it on the counter. 

Felix speaks. “Why have you never touched me?”

It’s easier to joke. “I’m touching you right now.” 

The android spins to face him, perfectly trapped between the counter and Chan’s body. His starry eyes roam over Chan’s face, a determined quirk to his brow. “I know what I was made for, Chris,” he says, deep voice soft and light. “To cook, to clean, to…be whatever you want me to be.” 

“I want you,” Chan assures, pulse racing as Felix presses closer. “Just like this.” 

It’s not the explicit answer Felix likely wants, but it’s the best Chan can do without giving himself away entirely. 

When Chan turned twenty, he dreamt of love. Of loving and being loved in return. 

Twenty-five years later, Chan was given Felix.

✯

Seungmin passes the following morning. 

Chan learns what exactly the Pacemakers were made to do. 

✯

Felix lies curled up in Chan’s arms. His body is warm, but not as warm as Chan’s, not covered in sweat the same way Chan is. Their chests rise and fall in sync, but one of them is purposeful, the other effortless in its creation.

Chan presses a kiss to Felix’s forehead. “What do you think happens when we die?”

The android is nothing if not honest. “I do not know,” he says, rubbing his cheek over Chan’s collarbone like a cat. “I was not made to die.” 

“When I was young, powerful people promised they’d find a way for us to live forever,” Chan whispers, voice crackling around his words. “I wanted it more than anything, to watch the world rise and fall.” He hesitates as his heart bleeds. “It quickly became obvious that it could never be, so I set my dreams on something else.” 

Felix is real in Chan’s arms. The realest thing he’s ever known.

“Now I find myself wishing for it again, but nothing has changed. And for that, I am so, so sorry.” 

“It is true,” Felix hums, his rationality sharp but tender. “I will be here long after you are gone, but your lifetime is the most precious part of mine.” 

Chan pulls Felix close, devoted to savoring every moment, and swears he can feel Felix’s heart beat in time with his own. 

Chapter Text

“You’re fucking insane,” Chan giggles into Felix’s mouth, giddy and light. His hands feel so good on Felix’s hips, fingers digging into lithe muscle and soft skin, bruising him all the way down to the bone. “Shit, watch your head.” 

Felix doesn’t remember whose idea it was to fuck in the car. Sure, the parking lot is empty, but it’s also mid-afternoon on a Thursday and Felix knows the women’s bible study group meets in the Sanctuary at four. They have about seventeen minutes to wrap this the hell up. 

He fumbles for the handle that controls the driver’s seat backrest in Chan’s old beat up Toyota and yanks it down, sending Chan’s upper half falling backwards until he’s almost fully horizontal. The sharp movement jerks Felix in his lap, fucking him down harder on Chan’s cock. 

“We should get milkshakes after this,” Felix says casually despite the way he balances himself with a hand on Chan’s chest and rolls his hips like a back alley whore. “A strawberry milkshake sounds so good right now.”

Chan smacks his ass, wordlessly encouraging Felix to quicken his pace. “I can give you a vanilla one here in a minute,” Chan grunts, staring up at Felix with all the fondness in the world. God, his jokes are horrible, but his massive cock makes up for it. 

“Ew,” Felix breathes, scrunching his nose. “You’re nasty.” 

“You love it.” 

Debatable. Felix loves Chan. His lame jokes he could take or leave. 

In a comical three-bit sequence, Felix proceeds to get a cramp in his thigh, bump his head on the ceiling, and honk the horn with his bare ass. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he yelps, falling forward into Chan’s arms. 

“Careful,” his boyfriend coos. He grabs two palmfuls of Felix’s ass and squeezes hard, pulling Felix flush with his lap and grinding up into him. “He might hear you.” 

Felix goes cross-eyed with pleasure, unwilling to even touch the creature inside him that likes the idea of God himself watching him and his boyfriend have raw gay sex in a church parking lot. He can ponder it more during his weekly confession. Chan’s cock barely brushes over his prostate, so good but not enough. “Channie, come on, shut the hell up and fuck me please.” 

“Yessir.” Chan literally salutes him before sticking his tongue in his cheek in endearing concentration. He puts in the work, not one to take Felix’s demands lightly, and holds Felix in place as he snaps his hips at a punishing pace. 

Moans are punched out of Felix’s throat. He has to place one hand on the ceiling and another on the headrest for balance lest he repeat the same mistakes from earlier. The car rocks like a boat on the water with Chan’s thrusts, rather poetic considering the circumstances. Chan fucks him just right, his thick cock stretching Felix’s tight hole, perfect as always. 

“You’re so pretty,” Chan whines, head thrown back in ecstasy, showing off the pale skin of his throat. Felix's gums itch. “M’so lucky. Got the hottest boyfriend, the sexiest. Funny too. And I love fucking you. Wanna fuck you all the time. In the car, against a wall—ooh on our apartment balcony? That’d be—”

“Chris, honey,” Felix says through panting breaths. “We can address your exhibition kink later, okay? When we get milkshakes.” 

“Milkshakes, okay,” Chan nods, eyes wide and sparkling as his words slur together. Pleasure looks so good on him. Sweaty and pink all over. Curls sticking up in a weird little fluffy halo.

Felix calls on his last reserve of energy and begins meeting Chan’s thrusts. The windows have fogged up by now. He’s lost track of time. The poor women looking forward to an afternoon of analyzing the Ten Commandments could be pulling in this very second. He probably knows some of them. What would they think if they say Felix now?

Suddenly, Chan whimpers, high and broken, and his hips falter. 

Felix smiles wickedly. “You gonna cum?” he purrs, clenching tight around Chan’s girth. He brings a hand to his cock and strokes himself in time with their hips, fanning the flames in his belly. “We were all outta condoms, right? S’gonna be messy.” 

Chan looks like he’s about to cry. All Felix has to do is lean down and capture his lips in a hungry kiss and Chan melts beneath him like putty. Filling him up and coating his walls, fucking his cum deeper into Felix until he too reaches his climax. Felix has half the mind to lift Chan’s shirt up to his pecs and cum on his bare skin, satisfied as pearly ropes drip into the lines of his abs.

“Fuck,” Chan sighs. “Um.” He glances down at where they’re connected. Cum leaks out around his softening cock, soaking the fine hairs at the base. 

A car door slams in the distance. 

“Should I…?” Chan does a little twirly motion with his finger. 

Felix rolls his eyes, playful, and slowly pulls off Chan’s cock before turning around in his lap with as much grace as possible. Which is admittedly not a lot. He presses his chest to the steering wheel and spreads himself with one hand, peering over his shoulder expectantly. 

Chan licks his lips and dives in. Felix doesn’t think he’ll be able to look at a vanilla milkshake the same way ever again. 

Chapter Text

Felix counts each door as he passes them, lined up on either side of the narrow, dimly lit hallway. He hasn’t been in the basement in years, not since he was still taking his confirmation classes in the old preschool room. It’s a little creepy to be honest, when no one else is down here. 

The music library is all the way at the end of the hallway. He pushes the heavy door open and pulls out the list of sheet music the choir director asked him to find. Most of the file cabinets are ancient and rusty, so he has to fight to yank the drawers open, huffing and puffing by the time he’s halfway through his task.

The sound of laughter, followed by a door slamming open somewhere down the hall nearly scares Felix to death. Papers fly from his hands as he jumps, fluttering in a mess at his feet. He curses, annoyed, and then prays to God for forgiveness under his breath. 

More chaos echoes through the air as he rushes to clean up. Bangs and booms, giggles, yelps, a moan. 

Felix’s ears burn. He should be ashamed of his presumptuous thoughts. No one in their right mind would ever do something so crazy, so sinful in the basement of a church. 

Well, no one except Christopher Bahng. The pastor’s son. 

He only knows it’s him by his voice, low and smug as he spews words Felix wouldn’t dream of repeating. The same tone he uses to greet Felix after service every week. Like he knows something Felix has yet to find out. 

“Fuck, yes. Oh my god,” Chris groans. “Yeah, shit, give it to me.” 

Felix is possessed by the devil himself. That’s the only reasonable explanation for why he’s inching down the hall towards the cracked open door. It’s not him moving his feet. It’s not him peeking around the frame, sheet music held tightly to his chest. 

He doesn’t know what he expected to see. Maybe Chris kissing whatever girl he dragged down here, pulling her close and groping her waist. He’s seen the elder disappear behind his father’s office door before, hand in hand with the pretty blonde woman who just recently started attending their church. 

But she sings soprano in the choir. Felix saw her not twenty minutes ago. 

What he sees now is enough to make bile rise in his throat. Chris is bent over a stack of boxes, back arched with his pants pulled down over his backside. He peers over his shoulder at the man holding him down. It’s a man—someone Felix doesn’t even recognize—dipping his fingers into Chris’ hole and stretching him wide.

“Put it in,” Chris pants. His body is eager, flushed pink and vibrating with energy, but his eyes are bored, stripped of all shine until he slides them over and locks his gaze on a petrified looking Felix. 

Chris smiles at him, crooked and wild. He doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t call Felix out for being a pervert or shame him for watching two men have sex even after he’s been caught. All he does is grin wider and moan something truly debauched when the man pulls his cock from his pants and feeds it into Chris’ greedy hole. 

Felix can feel Chris’ dark eyes crawl over his body and land somewhere below his waist. His pants are tight, his boxers sticky, but he refuses to believe he’s hard. He refuses to believe his body can be so traitorous, latching onto the filth in front of him and pulling pleasure from it. 

Still, the crinkle of paper is barely hidden under Chris’ lewd cries and the wet slap of skin on skin as the man fucks him hard and fast. Sheets of music become unreadable in Felix’s hands, wrinkled and torn. 

Chris rolls his eyes into the back of his head. He won’t shut up. Strings of sin spill from his lips like the blood of Christ. 

“Yeah, you like that?” he growls, shoving his tongue into his cheek and licking over his teeth, satisfied. And even though he’s rutting his hips back to meet the other man’s thrusts, Felix can’t help but feel like the words are meant for him. 

Oh, Felix is going to hell. He’s going to die and go to hell and Chris is going to be the one sitting on a throne of flames, ready to greet him.

Chapter Text

“Oh, shit,” a soft voice squeaks as an even softer body bumps into Chan from behind. He almost loses his red solo cup of lukewarm beer, one wrong move away from sloshing it all over the group of not-quite acquaintances he’s been chatting with. “I’m so so sorry! Ahg, these heels are a nightmare.”

Chan turns around, ready to put on a polite smile and wave the other party-goer off, but as soon as he does, he comes face to face with an absolute angel. Literally. The most beautiful woman he’s ever seen stares up at him with wide, starry eyes, almost no match to the scattering of freckles on her rosy cheeks. Long blonde hair cascades over her shoulders, pieces of it held back by a golden halo atop her head. She’s dressed in all white; a little miniskirt and a frilly crop top, complete with fluffy, feathered wings. 

He stares. 

She stares back. 

“Hi,” they say at the same exact time, twin smiles breaking out across their faces. She has natural fangs that press into her glossy bottom lip, cuter than they have any right to be. When she tilts her head, Chan can see tiny gems on her canines that sparkle under the light. 

“There’s a joke in here somewhere,” Chan chuckles, trying to play it cool. Gosh, it’s been a while since he’s been this flustered. He can feel himself turning red all over. “Like, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

The woman snorts and giggles, hiding her widening smile behind a small manicured hand. “That’s horrible,” she says. “And not the first time someone has used that on me tonight.”

Well fuck. “Well fuck,” Chan says in return. “Any points for trying?”

She reaches up to fix the collar on Chan’s shirt, shrugging her narrow shoulders coyly. The touch is exhilarating, light but purposeful. “What are you supposed to be?” she asks, fluttering her lashes. 

Chan looks down at his costume. If he had known an angel would be at this party, he would have put a little more effort into it. As it stands, he’s dressed in a tattered plaid button down and distressed cut off jean shorts. Clipped to his belt loop is a poofy black tail with matching ears nestled in his curly hair. 

“Uh, the Big Bad Wolf,” he answers in more of a question than a statement. 

“Ah,” the angel nods, her curious eyes wandering. “Where’s your Little Red?”

“Don’t have one,” Chan breathes, taking a step closer. 

Not to pat himself on the back, but they hit it off. They spend the next hour or so talking and laughing, sharing innocent touches on the arm or shoulder. Her name is Fey, a sophomore, majoring in Early Childhood Education. She oohs and ahhs as Chan shyly explains his senior internship at a local recording studio, yapping about a big project he has due in a few days. At some point they end up pressed chest to chest as people around them get rowdier and louder. The prettiest blush creeps over her cheeks when Chan rests a palm on her waist to keep her from toppling backwards. 

He’s about to ask if she wants to find a place to sit, somewhere quieter, but a tall, brown-haired woman dressed as a ladybug pops out of nowhere and clings to Fey’s shoulder. 

“Feyfi!” she gasps, tucking the shorter woman under her chin. “They’re playing our song! Come dance with me.” 

Fey looks between Chan and her friend with a torn expression. Chan smiles and nods towards the dance floor. “Go ahead,” he says. “I’ll, uh, be around.” 

He watches Fey nod rapidly and fix her drooping halo before allowing her friend to pull her off into the crowd. White wings bounce behind her as she goes, but eventually he loses sight of her as sweaty bodies fill in the gaps in the large room. A long sigh seeps from his lips and he stares down into his untouched cup, tapping his foot to a few songs as they pulse through the air. He’s acutely aware of the ache in his cheeks, as well as the butterflies floating around in his stomach. 

Someone taps his shoulder. Chan doesn’t get his hopes up, but he turns around with bright eyes nonetheless, happy and relieved to see it’s who he wanted it to be. 

Except. 

“Did you change costumes?” he asks, just a bit confused.

Fey smiles, but everything about her is sharper. Her eyes, her little fangs, the arch of her cupid’s bow. She must have put on a wig because her hair is black and shorter than before, highlighting the angles of her pale face. She’s clad in a skin-tight latex dress, dark red and dripping with rubies. Where a halo and angel wings were before, devil horns and bat wings take their place. 

Something flickers over her eyes, recognition or maybe resignation. But Chan is so lost right now, his befuddlement only growing when Fey slinks closer and intentionally presses her chest to Chan’s, pushing her breasts flush with his frame and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

“Do you like me better this way?” she purrs, staring up at him through dark lashes.

“Um,” is all Chan can muster at the current moment. 

Fey reaches up to play with the curls on Chan’s nape, long, stiletto nails scratching lightly at his sensitive skin. “You’re missing your Little Red Riding Hood, yeah? I’m close enough, don’t you think?”

Chan is still fumbling with the first question she asked him, the words feeling like static in his brain. Maybe it’s a two part costume. He’ll have to give her props for that, but it doesn’t necessarily explain the huge shift in personality. Perhaps that’s all part of it too?

“Chan?”

He peers over his shoulder at the sound of his name and his mind officially breaks. Fey is there, still angelic as ever with her eyebrows furrowed. She looks hurt to see another girl hanging from Chan’s body. Chan looks back in front of him, at Fey, and makes a helpless little sound in his throat. 

Devil Fey leans around him to look at Angel Fey, a sly smile on her face. “I found your puppy,” she says, nuzzling her cheek against Chan’s bicep. Something hot swirls in Chan’s belly at the moniker.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Lix,” Angel Fey sighs, the hurt in her eyes replaced with exasperation. “Seriously?”

“Whaaat?” Devil Fey pouts. “We can share, can’t we?”

Chan gingerly grab’s the thin wrists from around his neck and untangles himself. “Uhh,” he says eloquently, looking between both Feys. “What’s going on here?”

Angel Fey crosses her arm and cocks a hip, gesturing limply towards Devil Fey. “Chan,” she grumbles. “Meet my sister, Lix.” 

“Sister?” Chan gulps. 

“Twins,” the Fey who is now Lix clarifies, wiggling her eyebrows. 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

Chan quickly comes to the conclusion that both Fey and Lix are devils in disguise. It had taken nothing for them to share a look, engage in some sort of cryptic twin telepathy, and drag an all too willing Chan into someone’s empty bedroom. 

What can he say? He’d be a fool to pass up an opportunity like this. 

They’re all still in costume, a messy trio of feathers, plaid, and latex. He has Fey in his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed, licking into his mouth with her velvet tongue.

She’s so wet, her core soaked and warm on his thigh, hips twitching every time he digs his fingers harder into her waist. Lix is kneeled behind him, pulling at his shirt and kissing over his shoulder. She’s mean as she grabs his hair and tugs, demanding better access to suck purple marks into his neck. 

“Lixie,” Fey says after a while, pulling back from Chan’s swollen lips. “Come here.” Lix huffs but detaches her fangs from Chan’s skin and crawls around him until she’s perched next to her sister. She quirks an eyebrow at Fey and smiles when she nods, her demeanor sharpening. 

“Lean back, puppy,” Lix coos, running her hands over Chan’s broad chest and all but shoving him down. He bounces on the mattress with a nervous laugh, staring up at the two beautiful women with anticipation. 

Fey slides off his lap and they both urge him to scoot up the bed. He does so clumsily, fake tail getting caught underneath him as he sits with his back against the headboard, too focused on watching them stand and begin to shed their costumes. Lix helps Fey take her wings off, sliding them over her shoulders and turning around to let Fey do the same for her. They continue their back and forth, pulling skin tight fabric down their thighs and shaking out their hair until they’re left in only their bras and panties. 

They’re matching sets, lacy and sheer. Fey’s white, Lix’s black. 

Chan salivates like a fucking dog. 

He takes the time to admire them both, basking in their slight differences. Where Fey is soft, hips and breasts plush and tan, Lix is cut with muscle, her waist trim and thighs strong. Lix has lighter freckles over her shoulders and down her arms, while Fey’s are dark and warm across her nose and cheeks. They wrap their arms around each other, press their cheeks together, and look at Chan with lustful eyes. 

“Fuck,” Chan whispers. 

They giggle and descend down upon him, crawling up his legs to rest on either side of his hips. Lix hovers her palm over his hardened cock, aching beneath his stupid jorts. He nods his consent, breaths shallow in his chest as she gropes him tenderly. 

“Oh, he’s big,” she mewls, looking to her sister who’s currently pawing at Chan’s thighs. “You picked a good one, Feyfi.” 

The statement is as flattering as it is alarming, but Chan loses all ability to think beyond the nimble fingers tugging at his zipper and the warm hand pulling his cock from his boxers. It’s like they know every single thing that turns Chan’s brain into goo, both of them drooling globs of spit over the tip before spreading it around with their hands, perfectly in sync. 

Fey is the first one to get her mouth on him, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder and moaning as she runs her tongue up the underside of his cock. Chan can only whine when Lix joins in, holding steady eye contact and taking the head between her red-stained lips. It feels like Heaven, but Chan is pretty sure he’ll end up in Hell after all is said and done. 

Their tongues swirl over his cock, wet and nasty, fighting over who gets to take him into their throat. Lix tries, but she’s held back by her gag reflex, whereas Fey can take him down to the base, her button nose buried into the fine hairs on his pelvis.

Chan chokes on nothing when Lix nuzzles down and suckles on his balls. Wicked heat surges through him and he panics, grabbing both women by the hair and pulling them off his cock. 

“Haha,” he laughs awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t wanna cum yet.” 

They turn to face each other, another weird twin moment before Fey says, “I found him.” 

Lix whines. “But I want him.” 

Chan is pretty sure there’s enough of him to go around, but he keeps his mouth shut. They continue to stare at each other until Lix cracks under her sister’s gaze and concedes to whatever argument they were having. She turns to Chan and smiles, slinking like a sleek feline as she climbs into his lap. 

“Hi, puppy,” she coos against his lips, nipping at him and grinding over his sensitive cock. “Gonna get you ready for Feyfi, okay? And then you’re gonna eat my pussy real good once she’s nice and full.” 

“Okay,” is what falls from Chan’s lips. The next second he’s groaning into Lix’s sweet mouth, bucking into her tight grip as she procures lube and a condom out of seemingly nowhere. She helps him out of his shorts—tail included—and boxers, tossing them to the floor. Somewhere behind them, Fey watches with dark eyes and slips her fingers between her slick folds. Chan can hear it, how fucking wet she is. 

Lix takes her time, pumping him a few times before tearing the condom open with her little fangs and rolling it onto his cock. She finishes him off with an ungodly amount of lube and leaves him with a filthy kiss. 

Fey fills the empty space in his lap. Her panties are already discarded, showing off her pretty cunt, her pubic hair all waxed except for a heart-shaped patch that leads down to her clit. Chan’s hands are on her immediately, squeezing and groping the fat of her hips and thighs, utterly transfixed with the way she molds against him. 

“Knew you were gonna be perfect for us as soon as I saw you,” Fey purrs. She reaches her hands behind her back and unclips her bra, letting it slide off her shoulders to reveal her soft, shapely breasts. Chan nearly whimpers at the sight of her, of the tiny freckles sprinkled around her dusky pink nipples. He leans down to wrap his lips around the pert bud, but he’s caught by the chin and made to look into her warm eyes. 

One pair of hands travel down to his cock while another massages over his shoulders and slides his shirt off. Fey meets him in a generous kiss, her breath shaky as she lines them up and sinks down onto his cock. Warmth envelopes him eagerly, inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed into her tight heat. 

“Fuck,” they sigh into each other’s mouths, sharing a gentle laugh that devolves into more slick kisses. Fey slowly starts to roll her hips, her tits bouncing, the meat of her hips jiggling as she picks up the pace. 

“Don’t forget about me,” Lix whispers, pulling Chan into a kiss of their own. She licks the taste of her sister away and replaces it with hers, staking her claim. “Scoot,” she instructs, helping Chan and Fey wiggle down the bed so Chan can lie flat on the mattress. 

Chan just about loses it when Lix moves to straddle his chest, peering down at him devilishly and sliding her black panties to the side. Her pussy is damn near dripping, glistening and pink and just out of reach. 

“Good god, come here, please,” Chan begs, saliva pooling under his tongue. Lix giggles and hums, beyond pleased as Chan wraps his arms around her thighs and pulls her down until she’s hovering over his parted lips. She’s hot on his tongue as he takes a tentative lick, just to see how she’ll react, and is rewarded with a saccharine whimper. 

He slips his tongue between her folds and laps at her entrance, spurred on by her cute little sounds and the vice that is Fey around his throbbing cock. It’s incredibly endearing, the way Lix melts on top of him, hips bucking against his insistent tongue. She cries out when he takes her clit into his mouth and sucks, flicking his tongue over the swollen nub. 

Behind her, Fey fucks herself on his cock harder, faster until she’s rocking the whole bed. Chan has to hold Lix tighter, settling her weight on his chest and burying his face deeper between her thighs. At some point, Fey’s hands replace Chan’s on her sister’s hips, holding her steady as she encourages Chan to play with her tits. He does with as much grace as possible, groping the soft flesh blindly and brushing over her pebbled nipples. His focus wavers for a moment, too caught up in endless pleasure, but then Lix pouts and Fey whines and he puts everything he has into making them feel good.

“So eager to please, aren’t you, puppy?” Lix pants, poking at Chan’s wolf ears. “You’re so good.” 

Fey hums her agreement, the rhythm of her hips already beginning to falter. She clenches around him in a pulsing flurry, milking his cock for all he’s worth. Chan feels used in the best way possible. Knowing that he can please two breathtaking women with his body goes entirely to his head, a dangerous mix of desire and determination. 

He moans when Lix tangles her fingers into his hair to keep him still. She bears down and grinds over his mouth and tongue, rubbing her clit over the strong line of his nose. Admittedly, he’s running out of oxygen, gasping into her core and drinking her juices, but it’s so worth it when she finally cums. 

She screams his name, gasping and whining until Fey has to help her climb off Chan’s chest and curl up against his side. Chan catches his breath and grasps onto both women, one hand on Lix’s thigh while the other digs into Fey’s waist. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Fey sighs, looking ethereal on his cock. Strands of hair stick to her face and neck with sweat. So, so pretty.

“Me too,” Chan grunts. “Come on, angel.” 

They fall together. Fey doubles over and burrows into his neck as she trembles and squirts all over his cock and thighs, surprising all three of them. Blazing heat consumes Chan as he holds Fey down and spills into the condom, his canine brain wishing nothing more than to paint her walls with his cum so it mixes with the rest of their mess. 

Lix brushes Fey’s hair from her face and coos as they come down from their highs. The quiet is comfortable, blanketing them until Fey stops shaking. 

A hand cups Chan’s jaw and he’s turned to face Lix. She’s sweaty and flushed a darling pink. “Kiss,” she murmurs, pulling Chan into one of the sweetest kisses he’s ever shared. It’s not long, just a press of lips, warm and wet. He’s turned towards Fey next. “Kiss,” Lix says again and hums when they meet just as sweetly. 

Lix moves to hold Fey by the chin and smiles at her lovingly. “Kiss,” she whispers one final time, eyes half-lidded, before connecting their red-bitten lips. 

Chan’s cock twitches.

When Fey pulls away from her sister, she looks down at Chan with a raised brow. “I felt that.” 

Chan laughs sheepishly and can only offer a shrug in response. 

They clean up together, none of them in any rush. Chan insists on finding a washcloth, rifling through the ensuite bathroom’s cupboards until he finds something suitable and wetting it with warm water. The sheets are likely ruined, quite the damning evidence of their time together, but the twins don’t seem too bothered, pliant and gracious as Chan helps them wiggle back into their costumes.

He can’t say he expects much once they part ways. One by one they slip through the door and back into the thumping music. Chan considers himself lucky when he gets a lingering kiss on each cheek before both angel and devil disappear into the crowd. 

It’s not until he’s hunting for his keys in front of his apartment later that night that his fingers catch on a slip of paper in his back pocket. 

lovely meeting you! best of luck on your big project — fey

thanks for the fun, puppy! — lix

call us anytime ;) xx-xxx-xxxx