Archive of Our Own ^beta

CHAN

Their first month together is over before they know it. They move in together. Officially, because Chan finally asks. And it’s perfect: Felix’s coat on his coat stand, Felix’s clothes in his closet, Felix’s phone charging on his bedside table. Felix’s shampoo in his shower, Felix’s favorite brand of ramen in his kitchen cabinets, Felix’s computer set up at a brand-new desk just for him. It feels deeply right for Chan’s home to really and truly be Felix’s home.

All the small domestic routines feel precious. Felix, waking up in bed beside him, adorable and barefaced, saying good morning in his cavernous morning voice. Looking up and seeing Felix’s smile over his mug in the morning, Felix laying on his tummy on the couch with his legs kicked up, enticingly bare footed, as he plays his Switch.

He’s already fucked Felix into his beloved heated floor several times, and the shine has yet to wear off.

They cook dinner side by side, and now that he has Felix to cook for, Chan's repertoire has expanded far beyond kimchi fried rice to actual proper meals with multiple dishes. 

Chan has a mental catalogue of all of Felix’s clothes now, and the idea that Felix is wearing his choices down to the underwear hugging his hips is romantic and erotic in equal measure. Everything is, honestly.

For the first time, Chan is his full self with his partner and it’s incredible. No boundaries. Complete freedom. The fusion of every bit of his love and dominance. This is what he’d been chasing without even knowing it. The way he loves Felix. The way Felix loves him.

It's only a few weeks into February, so it still feels like they just got together, but it also feels like they’ve been together forever. Like his life before his little one is a past life he barely remembers.

Felix is graduating at the end of the month so they talk about their future. Chan sleeps better than he ever has, but now his insomnia is an old friend, giving him more hours to map everything out beyond graduation and working together full time at Hit List, tracing a map to their future in Felix’s freckles as Felix lays asleep in his arms.

He thinks of Felix’s smile as he said he’d wear his collar. They’ve talked about it since— more than talked about it. They’re planning it together; there's a page in his scene notebook now, with notes on designs and dates and ideas for a proper collaring ceremony.

And Chan has more plans beyond that, plans he’s going to keep a surprise for now. At least until after Felix’s graduation.

He’s happy. Felix is happy.

***

Felix and Chan spend the morning in consultation with Hobi and Yoongi, finalizing the details of Felix’s post-graduation transition to full time employee.

As they pass by the front desk on their way out, Kai grins at them.

“More schedule adjustments, hmm?”

Felix winces. “I promise this will be the last time.” He says.

Kai waves him off cheerfully.

“I’m just teasing. Real talk? I’m happy to be scheduling the two of you together, instead of making sure your schedules don’t overlap.” Kai says. “This is way easier. And a lot less depressing.”

Out of the corner of the eye, Chan sees Felix freeze. Just for a millisecond, his throat working as he swallows, eyes blinking once, twice. It’s all so quick Chan would have missed it, if he wasn’t looking. But he’s always looking at Felix.

***

Felix is quiet on the drive home.

He’s quiet as the elevator doors close. In the hushed space between floors, Chan says, “So you did ask Kai to change your schedule so we wouldn’t overlap. I kind of wondered about that.”

Felix’s voice is quiet. “Yes.”

Chan tries to keep it in. Early on, Felix had told him that he wasn’t going to pretend Seo Changbin hadn’t happened, and Chan had agreed right away, but they still don’t talk about him much. So Chan should just leave it be. Whatever happened, it’s over now.

But he’s never been able to leave well enough alone, especially where that asshole is concerned.

They make it inside before Chan breaks the silence.

“God, he was really a piece of work. Not only does he stop you from working with me, he actually made you change your schedule?”

“What?” Felix looks up quickly, eyes wide.

“He must have been real fucking insecure, if he didn’t even trust you to be in the same building as me.” Chan says. “I should have known it was only a matter of time before he made you stop hanging out with me all together.”

Felix hangs up his jacket, his face turned away. “It wasn’t Changbin.”

Chan stares at his narrow shoulders, uncomprehending.

“What are you saying?”

Felix turns around slowly. Arms wrapped around himself. Face pale but resolute.

“All Changbin asked was that I stop subbing for you. I’m the one who couldn’t even handle seeing you at the office. I’m the one who couldn’t handle seeing you at all.”

Chan thinks of the phone calls that finally stopped. The texts that grew fewer and fewer. All of Felix’s excuses. ‘No one is that busy, Felix.’

He’d known Felix was avoiding him. He’d just thought —

“That was you? But I was devastated.”

It’s not the right word, really, for the aching numb awfulness of those last months. He doesn’t even remember it that well, like the way the brain can’t fully remember what physical pain feels like after it’s over.

Maybe he’d known, deep down. Maybe it was just easier to blame that asshole for everything. But he can’t make it make sense.

Felix’s freckles stand out in start relief now, the skin around his eyes pulled tight. Chan hears him take an unsteady breath.

“So was I,” He says. “It was killing me to keep away from you.”

The pain on Felix’s face hits Chan like a physical thing, and he reels under the impact of it, uncomprehending.

“I don’t understand. If it wasn’t something he asked you to do…if it was making you unhappy, then why—”

“I was trying to be a good boyfriend.” Felix’s voice cracks on the last word. “It’s not that Changbin didn’t trust me with you. I didn't trust myself. The very first time we were alone together, we almost went into dynamic. You saw the mark he’d left—”

This particular memory is burned into Chan like a brand. If he closes his eyes, he can still see the shape of another man’s mouth on Felix’s collarbone.

“I saw the mark he’d left and all I wanted to do was push you up against the wall and mark over it, so you’d know who you really belonged to…”

Felix shivers. “I could see it, in the way you looked at me. If you had, I would have let you. I wanted you to.”

And somehow that’s when it really hits Chan: not only what a monumental idiot he is, but everything he’d thrown away.

“I should have done it. I should have done it and asked you to be mine.” He’s the one dragging in a breath now. “If I’d asked you to leave him then—”

“I would have.”

That night in the living room of his apartment, he should have told Felix to leave that asshole, to be with him. He should have realized it. Said, I'm in love with you. Please, we belong to each other.

Before then.

‘But you —’

— have me. He should have finished his sentence. Should have realized then. Said, you don’t need another Dom, you don’t need another boyfriend. You have me.

Somehow, he gets the question out. “If I had asked you not to go on that first date—”

“I was waiting for you to.” Felix says. “I wanted you to stop me. All I wanted was for you to tell me that I didn’t need him because I had you.”

He should have said it then.  

Before then.

“If I—”

“I would have.” Felix’s voice is soft and steady. “I would have been your’s the moment you asked. Any time during those nine months.” His eyes are huge and dark in his face. “Before then, even.”

Sitting in the break room where Felix had given him acceptance and grace along with that cake.

When he'd accepted Felix's carte blanche.

Before then.

Walking through the crowds at Lotte World, unable to let go of his hand.

Talking so long they closed down the diner and the ice cream shop.

Before then.

Sliding inside Felix’s body with no barrier between them, skin to skin for the very first time, sharing every breath and heartbeat.

Before then.

‘Hi Felix. I just wanted to check in after our trial.’

He’d had so many fucking chances. If only he had realized.  

“I wasted so much time we could have had. I could have saved us so much fucking pain.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Felix says. “Okay? I’m yours and you’re finally mine. That’s all that matters.”

“Okay,” Chan says.

Felix wraps his arms around Chan, buries his face in the nape of Chan’s neck. They stay like that for a long time. Chan breathes in the warm vanilla of his perfume in deep lungfuls, pressed so tightly that he can feel Felix’s heart beat.

When Felix finally pulls away, he cups Chan’s face in his small hands, his eyes clear and steady.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because it’s over and it was all worth it to me, because now we're together. Okay?”

Chan just nods. “Okay.”

But he doesn’t know if it is okay.

***

In the quiet February dawn, he wakes with Felix nestled warm and pliant against him. They fit perfectly, like a lock and a key. He can’t help himself from seeking the comfort of it now. He nestles in further, hitches Felix’s leg up. It’s still close enough to the end of their night that he slides inside easily enough. He doesn’t move, just stays like that, inside the cradle of Felix’s body.

Felix shifts a little, and Chan knows from the cadence of his breathing that he’s awake.

“I didn’t mean to wake you yet, baby.” Chan breathes into Felix’s neck.

“It’s okay,” Felix says. “Stay like this? I’ll warm you.”

 And Chan knows his little one is asking as much for himself as he is for Chan. Some comfort to wash away the day. They stay like that for a long, endless moment, Chan resting snug and unmoving inside Felix’s warm velvet clench, the length of his body pressed against Felix’s sleep-warmed skin, as he feels Felix breath around him.

And for the first time since they started doing this, Chan finds himself thinking about the man who had shown Felix how to warm his cock. They’ve never talked about it, but it must have been him, right? If Felix had known about cockwarming before, known that he liked it, he would have asked Chan for it. This is something new, something he learned in the time Chan squandered.

“I’m sorry,” Felix says. Just the slightest hitch to his voice. It could almost be from his apology, rather that from the fullness of Chan inside him. “I didn’t know what else to do.” He takes a long, shaky breath. “I knew…if you were in my life…I couldn’t live without you.”

“Not your fault.” Chan says. Shifts slightly, feeling Felix clench lightly, not wanting this discussion to rob them of this moment. Healing, Felix had said. It makes me feel so safe and warm. Like I’m home. “You wouldn’t have needed to, if I hadn’t been an idiot.”

“Do not beat yourself up about this.” Felix says. His fingernails bite into Chan’s skin, a gentle reproach. Pressure on his cock, deep inside Felix, as he bears down, keeping Chan there. “You have me. You’ve always had me. Always. Now.”

It’s the now that should be important.

Suddenly this lovely cradle of his little one’s patient hole isn’t enough. Chan needs the pounding of his pulse, the quickening of him, the greedy squeeze, the gorgeous yielding spill of him.

He rolls them so he’s fully on top of Felix, drops his weight across Felix’s back to press him fully into the mattress. Pumps in deep and slow, grinding into Felix until he shudders, a moan leaking from him.

“Sir—”

Felix arches, baring his throat, lush and lovely.

Chan lets the fire of his Domspace burn away everything else but right now, stretches the present to an endless loop, pulls out right before he comes, brings them both to the edge again and again until there is nothing on earth, not even his own control that can keep them from falling over it.

But hours later, when the sun has finally risen, it’s all still there, lying in wait for him, caught fast and sharp in his steel-trap catastrophe of a brain.

‘I would have been yours the moment you asked.’

He knows Felix meant it to be healing. A simple truth to comfort him. Instead it lodges in his chest like a splinter that he can’t pull loose, aching so that he can’t concentrate on anything else.

He’d always thought that asshole had stolen Felix from him. Instead Chan had handed Felix to another man on a silver platter. He’d handed away nine whole months that should have been his, gifted that asshole almost an entire year, wrapped with a bow of blindness and denial and hubris.

***

In the in-between spaces in the peace and happiness of his new life with Felix, those nine months he forfeited begin to haunt him. Now when he can’t sleep, it’s not the future, or even the now that fills his thoughts: It’s the past.

A new brand of face cream. A t-shirt Chan has never seen before. A movie maybe, that Felix mentions seeing in the theater.

All it takes is something little like that.

And then Chan starts thinking.

About Felix, freshly washed and getting ready for bed, smoothing this cream into his skin, dewy and lovely. About that asshole, brushing his lips over Felix’s temple, resting his hand on the bare nape of Felix’s neck, the kind of casual reassurance that Felix craves.

About Felix in this t-shirt, which is really utterly unremarkable except that Chan doesn’t know where or when he bought it, only that it’s not new, only new to him, which means that asshole has seen it dozens of times, maybe even went with Felix to buy it, saw the first time Felix put it on, turned around in the mirror, decided he liked the way it looked. Maybe that asshole had even been the one to pick it out.

And the movie - it’s not the kind of thing Felix would chose to see, so it must have been that asshole’s suggestion. Did they sit next to each other in the darkened theater, Felix’s head on his shoulder? Did he take advantage of the dark to feed Felix kernels of popcorn, make Felix lick the salt off his fingers, push his fingers deep inside Felix’s mouth to feel the pooling saliva? Did he stroke the inside of Felix’s wrist, press his fingers there to track the way Felix’s pulse spiked during the action scenes? Did he stroke Felix’s hair when Felix hid his face in his broad chest during the scary parts, protect him from even the most harmless of fear?

Now, when Chan lies awake at night, his head is filled with questions he can’t ask.

Did he know the right word, the right look, the right touch to open that door in your headspace and beckon you to walk through it?

Did he have an actual playroom and what did he call you in it?

What was your favorite restaurant to go with him and did you choose what to eat or did he?

Did you take him to that one shop in Hongdae that sells Tim Tams and Cheezels?

Did he keep you warm enough during those cold nights in November?

Did he remember to tell you how lovely and wonderful you are, even outside of dynamic?

Did he love you the way you deserve, even if it wasn’t the way I do because no one could ever love you like I do?

Did you ever delude yourself into thinking he could be enough?  

It’s everything.

It’s the words Felix didn’t know before. Not just the ones to beg with, but the little casual everyday expressions and specific phrases that have assimilated themselves into Felix’s Korean vocabulary, in the way that people pick up words from each other when they spend enough time together.

It’s the fact that for almost an entire year, that asshole got to have Felix in his space. Got to come home to Felix curled up on his couch, to Felix in his kitchen baking brownies, got to wake up to Felix asleep beside him. Knowing that that asshole had almost a year of Felix’s smile, Felix’s laugh, Felix’s tears, Felix’s submission, Felix’s affection.

And Chan has no one to blame for it but himself.

“Now that you’re mine, I wonder if he thought about me as much as I thought about him.”

It’s the closest he’s come to admitting: I still think about him.

“I was always yours.” Felix says, low and soft.

 ***

Chan always kisses Felix the second the elevator doors close. Because he can’t get enough of kissing Felix, can’t get enough of the sweet way Felix opens for him, because if he tugs Felix’s hair just right as he’s licking into his mouth, he knows he’ll pull back and see him breathless and glowing on the precipice of his submissive headspace. Because the elevator ride from the lobby of Chan’s apartment building to their floor is always exactly enough time to get Felix there, to have him slipping into subspace as they slip through their front door.

But they’re going down today, not up, so when the elevator dings and the doors open  the lobby, Chan doesn’t guide Felix out with a hand at the small of his back, or pull him forward by the nape of his neck. He’s careful to let the moment fade, because they’re on their way to get lunch, and besides, the ahjumma who lives in 24B is getting onto the elevator, and Chan needs to help her with her bags. Felix recovers himself in time to press the right floor for her, and charm her with his cheerful smile, and Chan is so ridiculously fond of his boyfriend that he’s grinning like an idiot. His boyfriend who he can kiss in elevators on their way to lunch before helping little old ladies who beam at them and call them such nice boys. His boyfriend who he can kiss whenever he wants.

Because Felix saves his kisses for his boyfriends.

How many kisses had he and that asshole shared over the span of those nine months?

What kind of kisses?

Had they kissed in elevators like this, just because they could?

Had they shared sweet, sleepy kisses in the mornings or late at night, while Felix was all pliant and sleepy?

Had they shared filthy, messy kisses in dynamic, the kind of messy kiss that gets Felix whining and panting?

He’s not trying to think of it, as he’s pulling Felix’s long wool coat a bit tighter around him before they step outside. It’s not a question for the lobby on a Monday afternoon, even if it’s a lot less crowded than it might be, since most people aren’t escorts with unorthodox work weeks.

But somehow, the question finds its way out of his brain, forced out maybe by all the questions he won’t ask.

“Why did you date him? If you were in love with me?”

Felix blinks at Chan for a long time, and it’s not because of the elevator; by now the cold wind has blown away any of the haziness in his eyes, but because it’s not a question for the frigid February Seoul sidewalks either.

“Because I was trying to get over you.” He says finally.

It’s not accusatory, not sad, it’s just a matter of fact. Maybe a little surprised, like he’s surprised that Chan doesn’t already know the answer. And maybe Chan did know the answer, but it still hits like a sucker punch to the gut.

”Oh.” More sound than word, forced out by the impact of it.

Felix cuts his eyes over to him. “You told me you were straight.” He says, finally. “You told me you were straight and vanilla.” It’s not accusatory, even though it should be.

The wind picks up, a gust that sends the few remaining dead leaves skittering down the streets, and Chan pulls Felix close into him, shielding him from the worst of it as they head towards the restaurant.

Felix’s voice is so low that Chan almost doesn’t hear Felix over the wind, despite how close they’re walking.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Chan blinks. “In the elevator? Because I wanted to kiss you.”

“No. The very first time you ever kissed me. During that session with Song-sshi.”

“Because I wanted to kiss you.”

The wind steals Felix’s little laugh, so that Chan almost misses the bitterness in it.

Felix wants more to his answer, maybe. And maybe there should be more, given the nine months that had followed. The problem is that the simple answer is the only one he has. He’d wanted to kiss Felix in the same way he wants to now. For the same reasons.

“That’s why I dated him.” Felix says.

As they walk, that answer is all Chan can think about, and the chill that settles into his bones is only a little bit from the windchill.

As they round the corner, Felix tugs at his hand. Chan looks over at him. His eyes are big and lovely, his face contrite.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” Felix says.

“I asked.”

“I know, but…it doesn’t matter. None of that matters anymore.”

And Chan should leave it at that. Felix is right.

It shouldn’t matter.

And yet.

It gnaws at him. Even as they warm up in the cozy little restaurant, even as they devour steaming bowls of kimchi stew, even as Felix makes him laugh with his silly goblin voice and his infectious cheer, even after they brave the cold again to stop at Felix’s favorite cafe, because Felix loves sweets and Chan loves to give him what he loves.

And this isn’t the right place for this conversation either, but Chan thinks that maybe there isn’t a right place, so it might as well be here, with Felix so beautiful in his elegant cashmere rollneck, letting Chan feed him bites of strawberry shortcake. He reaches over and swipes a thumb over Felix’s bottom lip, catching a bit of whipped cream stuck there, letting Felix suck it obediently off his thumb.

It’s perfect. It’s everything he’s wanted. And he had known this was what he wanted.

That’s the thing that kills him. If only he’d known that the why was so important.

Felix catches Chan’s hand, fingertip still slightly damp from Felix’s mouth, and entwines their fingers.

“You okay?”

“Sorry,” Chan says. “I just can’t stop thinking.” He wants to leave it at that, but Felix knows him just as well as he knows Felix, and they promised to talk about things. “I can’t stop thinking about all the time I lost. About how the only reason you were with him…the only reason he came into our world…was me. Because I was too much of an idiot to understand that I was in love with you.”

“Yes,” Felix admits. “But you figured it out, eventually.”

“I know. Thank god.” Chan forces a laugh. “I just…can’t forgive myself that I lost nine months of you. Nine months.”

“Well,” Felix says, and his voice is so gentle, dipped low and sweet. “If it helps, I spent those nine months with another man and at the end of it, I was more in love with you than when I’d started.”

Felix’s eyes scan Chan’s face worriedly when Chan can’t say anything over the way his heart is in his throat. He brings Felix’s hand to his lips, and kisses it softly. He hurt Felix so much over the course of those nine months, and no matter what else, he can’t hurt him now.

“Channie-hyung,” Felix says, voice low and soft. “You know I’m yours, right? Now and then and always.”

“I know.” Chan says. “I know, Lixie.”

He kisses Felix’s hand again, to keep the rest inside: I know. But doesn’t that make it worse? You were mine, you were mine the whole time and I left you to languish with him.

***

That night, Felix curls up against him, soft bare skin over sleek hard muscle, the cotton of one of Chan’s most worn t-shirts riding up high on his thighs as he slots them between Chan’s legs. His head is pillowed on Chan’s shoulder, his hand curled over Chan’s heart.

Outside the window, the world is blanketed in white. But right now nothing can take Chan’s eyes away from the boy in his bed. Where he belongs. His boy in his shirt in his bed. His to go to sleep next to and wake up next to. For the rest of their lives.

Chan’s mind, still far from sleep, races ahead to the morning. To watching Felix shift softly from sleep to waking, that beautiful smile when he opens his eyes and sees Chan watching him. When he’s still languid and sleepy like that, it’s so easy to slip him into the right headspace, to coax him right from sleep to submission, and Chan wants that tomorrow like he’s a kid trying to sleep on Christmas, like Felix is every present he’d ever asked for. He wants to spend an indulgent morning edging Felix until he’s begging with tears down his face. Just because they can.

And still, the thought intrudes.

Did that asshole know how to do that too? Had they spent mornings in his bed that way? Mornings that should have been Chan’s?

This question, he knows the answer to: ‘I can smell him on you.’

The jealousy whispers through him, faster and heavier the more ruthlessly he tries to stamp it out, evading him like smoke.

And the thing is that he’s happy. He’s so fucking happy, so why does he keep coming back to this shit?

When the only thing he wants is for his love to make Felix happy.

“Can't sleep, Channie-hyung?” Felix asks, shifting so that he can look up into Chan’s face. When Chan shakes his head, Felix leans in and kisses him, a soft, searching kiss. “Use me to tire yourself out, Sir.”

Such a pretty offer, from his pretty little one.

“I was going to take my time with you this morning,” He warns.

“Please.” It’s acknowledgment and invitation all at once, for right now and tomorrow morning both, because his Lixie is perfect, as insatiable as he is.

His little one kindles like flame beneath his hands, burning hot and fast, and Chan catches on fire with him, a conflagration of need, working him hard, pouring everything he’s got into Felix until his muscles are burning and his throat is hoarse, and his little one dissolves into pretty sparks in the darkness.

And finally, Chan sleeps.

***

It snows again the next afternoon, so that they shake the flakes from their hair and their eyelashes along with their boots as they come into the apartment. Chan makes hot chocolate, mostly for Felix, but when he sits down on the couch with it, Felix doesn’t sit besides him. Instead, he kneels by Chan’s feet, resting his head on Chan’s thigh. It’s healing for both of them, always. For a long while, they sit in the quiet.

And the comfort is there but only partially because this should have his baby floating, easy and good, but he doesn’t slip today; like Chan’s shit is blocking his headspace maybe as much as Chan has blocked his own.

Everything Chan’s ever wanted is here at his feet, nestled into him. He can’t fuck this up.

“It’s not that I don’t know you’re mine.” Chan says, finally. “You’re made for me, how could you not be? You’re everything I could ever want. I just…I’m so fucked up over this and I don’t know how to get past the fact that you were his because of me. That he didn’t steal that time away…I gave you away to him.”

In his head he hears Felix's little bitter laugh, stolen by the wind. Pushed you to him, maybe. But even he can't bring himself to say it outloud.

Felix turns slightly so he’s looking up at Chan. His eyes are a clear amber in the light from the lamp.

“I want to tell you something.” He says slowly. “It still doesn’t totally feel like it’s mine to tell you. But you have all of me, so I guess you have this too and. I think I need to. I think you need to hear it.”

“Okay.” Chan agrees.

Felix’s eyes are steady on his, a glistening sheen catching the light.

“When Changbin broke up with me…he told me that the whole time we were together, he could tell I belonged to someone else. No matter who I was with or what I was doing, I have always belonged to you. You’re it for me.”

“I love you.” Chan says, because he doesn’t know how else to honor the confession that Felix has made, trusting him with the truth of that moment that he should have no place in.

“I know.” Felix answers. “And that’s why there’s nothing to blame or forgive, for me. Just having your love is enough for me. That’s all I ever wanted.” He gives a little sigh, and nuzzles his head back onto Chan’s thigh. “I just wish I knew how to help you get over this. To help you…be a little kinder to yourself.”

Chan strokes his silky hair, letting his hand trail down to thumb over the place where his neck meets his shoulder, where a lovely purple bruise should be appearing by the time they sleep tonight. A once and future mark. Something he knows will be there in the future, undeniable proof of how much he loves Felix, of how much Felix loves him.

Around his throat, Chan’s marks are a pale chain of yellowing gold, because they both want a painless and paper blank canvas for Chan’s collar.

Chan knows he and Felix will be happy. They are happy. But until he gets past this regret, this jealousy…he’s not giving Felix everything he deserves.

He has to get over this, somehow.

Otherwise he won’t just have lost that time Felix was with Changbin…he’ll lose the time he has now.

***

“Everything okay?”

Chan freezes, mid-frustrated groan into his hands, his irritation evaporating quickly into mortification as he looks up to see Yeonjun gazing at him quizzically from the water cooler. Apparently Chan had been so deep in his own tangled thoughts he hadn’t even noticed the other man walk into the break room. He scrubs his hands over his face, hoping it looks like a slightly more normal thing to do during his lunch/dinner break on a Tuesday at the office.

“Yeah, yeah, no, everything’s cool.”

Yeonjun’s raised eyebrow doesn’t lower, and Chan knows he has a good 45 seconds of silence until Yeonjun calls bullshit.

Chan sighs. “Everything’s cool, the problem is that I’m not cool.” He admits after a moment.

Yeonjun makes his way over to where Chan is sitting and drops into the seat across from him, with the kind of nonchalant grace that Chan could never imitate in a million years. “So what’s got you primal screaming?”

“I’m just so sick of that asshole getting between us.” Chan admits. It comes out harsher than he means it to.

Yeonjun’s eyes widen. “Don’t tell me Changbin’s back?”

“No,” Chan says quickly. “No, it’s more like he’s never left. Metaphorically, I mean? I just— it’s not that I doubt how Felix feels or anything like that. I mean, he’s always been mine, even when he was trying not to be,” Admitting that still feels like a knife to the gut, and it probably always will, but Chan forges on, “But I had so much jealousy against that ass—” He catches himself. He won. He won Felix and that’s the only thing that matters, so he should try for grace, right? Even the bare minimum? “Against Seo Changbin, that I’m having a really hard time…letting it go? Like there’s just a part of me that…can’t stop thinking about it. About that fact that he had even a part of Felix’s love and Felix’s submission and Felix’s body, and Felix’s smile, and—“ He cuts himself off before he can keep on going. “You get the idea.”

He takes a long slow breath.

Yeonjun makes a thoughtful noise. “To be honest, I get it. I’ve had…issues with jealousy too. I hate thinking about Soobin with anyone else. That’s why we play with jealousy during scenes, because then it feels like…something I can manage.”

‘Someone else is putting words in your mouth, little one.’

“I don’t know if we could do that.” Chan admits.

Not when they’ve lived it.

“If it’s part of a scene, we both know it’s not real.” Yeonjun says. “It kind of…gives us a safe space to explore it.”

“Can I ask you something?” Chan asks. “If you get jealous, how do you watch Soobin’s sessions with Taemin?”

“That’s why I always sit in.” Yeonjun explains, “It’s not something I gave my permission for. When Kai came and asked Soobin if he would become Taemin’s Dom, Soobin and I had only just started training with each other. You hadn’t even stepped in to help Hoseok-hyung train us yet. It was way before either of us thought we were together. And what Soobin and Taemin do is between Taemin and Kai. It’s not really up to Soobin, except that he would do anything to make sure Kai’s happy. It’s not even a little bit up to me. And even if it were…I just want Soobin to be happy, and that means keeping Kai happy, so…”

Yeonjun shrugs, his face hopelessly fond. “Watching their sessions is sort of my way of…taking ownership of it. Making peace with it. The shit I imagine in my head is so much worse than reality. When I get to watch, I can see for myself that Taemin-hyung doesn’t give my Oppa what he needs the way I do.”

“I wish I felt so detached.” Chan admits. “Instead I feel…kind of like I did give th— Seo Changbin my permission in a way. Because it’s my fault that it happened in the first place. If I hadn’t been such a fucking idiot, Felix and I could have been together a year earlier.”

Yeonjun gives him a crooked smile. “I mean, you’re not going to get any argument from me there.”

Chan forces a laugh. “Didn’t really expect to. I’m just…having a really fucking hard time figuring out how to let all that go.”

“Well, it’s not like we haven’t worked through you being an idiot before.” Yeonjun says slowly. He’s quiet for a while, nodding to himself, and then he says briskly, “So I’m a big fan of working things out through, like, proxy scenes? What if you could watch Felix with another Dom, and sort of…play things out? Remind yourself that no one else can give Felix what he needs the way you can.”

“With another Dom?”

His immediate instinct is to say absolutely fucking not, but Yeonjun is trying to help him, yet again, so he needs to at least hear him out.

“My Dom, if he agrees.” Yeonjun says. “Soobin and I could do a scene with you and Felix. I think it might help? It wouldn’t be Changbin, obviously, but maybe Soobin could get close enough to what he represents that you could work through things? Give yourself a way to take ownership of all the shit you couldn’t then. Get some closure, or whatever.”

Closure. That’s definitely what Chan needs.

So he makes himself think about it.

Technically speaking, he has watched Felix get fucked before, and recently. A hybrid session of sorts with one of Felix’s chosen vanilla clients, client-requested and discussed at length before they agreed to it.  

He’d had no problem watching his little one — his pretty insatiable baby who loves to feel good and make other people feel good, to be healing for them —  get fucked by an unimportant, inconsequential cock and given an easy, vanilla orgasm. It had been a rush to Dominate Felix afterwards — only Sir, only Sir can give me what I need — to put him deep into subspace, messy and mindless and burning hot like a fever, to own him body and soul without even needing to give Felix his cock, to give his baby what he really needed, what he would still have needed even if he’d taken a dozen vanilla clients. They’d both had fun with it, even if they’d also agreed that they were okay with it being a one time thing.

What Yeonjun’s proposing is an entirely different animal, and Chan knows Felix will feel the same. But that’s why it makes sense. Why it might work. And when he thinks of Felix, how upset he’d been, how at a loss, how much Felix wants to move past this — how much he wants to move past this too? At this point, he’ll try anything.

Because that hybrid session had been a one time deal, for a sizable deposit into a specific savings account, which Chan intends, Felix willing, to use for a very specific purpose, in oh, the minimum time frame specified by the government of New South Wales, Australia. Another reason why he needs to get his shit together. The present is one thing, but he’ll be damned if he lets his own bullshit ruin their future.

FELIX

When Chan finishes explaining, Felix looks at him, searching his face. It’s certainly not what he’d expected when Chan had come to tell him he might have a way to get through everything that’s been bothering him.

“Is this really what you want? To watch me with another Dom?”

Chan reaches over to smooth his worry lines, and Felix leans into it.

“I don’t want to watch you with another Dom,” Chan says. “I think I might need to. I think it could help.” His hand smooths gently down Felix’s brow to cup his cheek. “That said, if you would be too uncomfortable, I want you to tell me. And we’ll figure out something else. I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want, baby.”

The response that comes instantly to Felix —  I kind of want anything you want — isn’t really the most helpful right now. Even though as far as Felix is concerned, within in a different context, a plain old run of the mill group scene with Yeonjun and Soobin could be really fucking hot. He’s not even worried to tell Chan that he would be into a session with other people. Not free use play, but something better. Owned by a man utterly sure of his love and devotion. And what could be hotter than that?

But that’s not what Chan is suggesting. This particular scene will delve into some sensitive subjects; it’s not something Chan’s proposing because he thinks it would be hot, but because he thinks it will be…healing.

So Felix has to take a second to really think this through.

“You’re sure it wouldn’t…I don’t know, backfire? I don’t want it to make things worse, and I don’t want it to affect our friendship with Yeonjun and Soobin.”

Chan nods as Felix talks, and then he says, “It’s all about context, right? This would be me giving you to Soobin to use for the duration of this session, for a specific purpose within very specific parameters that all four of us would agree to. Nothing is going to happen that any of us aren’t fully on board with. And nothing’s going to happen at all if you’re not down with this idea.”

Felix reaches up and wraps his hand around Chan’s. “As far as you’re concerned, the past can’t hurt me anymore because I have everything I wanted then. And all I want is for you to be able to get to that same place too. So if you think it would be healing, I’m in."

“Even so,” Chan says. “I don’t want you to do this just because of me. I want you to…enjoy yourself.”

Felix thinks about all the times he’d wanted Chan to claim him. Even in front of Changbin. Of waiting for Chan’s claim…and the idea of knowing, this time, that it was coming.

He barely even realizes he’s worrying his lip between his teeth until Chan leans in, tugging at Felix’s bottom lip until he lets out a high little whine at the stinging pleasure of it.  

“Couldn’t help myself,” Chan says, when he pulls back. Felix’s heart floods with tenderness.

“Good.” He says, smiling. “Sorry, I just…you know I like it when you get possessive. And this would be about proving that I’m yours right? About you standing up…and claiming me? Yeah, I’m into it.”

“Okay,” Chan says. “Good.”

“But I want us all to be really clear on what we’re doing. Not just you and me, but Soobin and Yeonjun too.”

***

The next morning, in a break in their schedules, they meet with Soobin and Yeonjun in the little cafe they sometimes use for their check-ins. By this point the old woman who runs it knows them, and always brings out their orders even before they can give them. She gives Felix an extra cookie today. He wonders if she can tell he’s nervous too.

“Thank you both so much for offering to help us,” Felix tells Soobin and Yeonjun again, even though he’d already said it on the way there.

“We just want to help, if we can,” Soobin says simply. “If you haven’t noticed, Yeonjun and I are pretty invested in your relationship.”  

Soobin stumbles just a bit as Felix pulls him into a hug. He owes so much to these two. Luckily he’s got enough love to keep repaying it.

“I just don’t want our problems to make any problems for you.” Felix says. “Will you two really be okay with this?” He turns to Yeonjun, “I mean if you have to watch your Dom fuck me, won’t it make you jealous?”

“Oh, of course,” Yeonjun’s mouth curves into his filthiest, brattiest grin. “But I figure Soobin fucking you really only makes things fair, since you fucked me. And Soobin didn’t even get to watch.”

“Behave.” Soobin says.

Yeonjun just laughs merrily. “Seriously though. I always get jealous when I see him with other people. But this is important, and we want to help you two.” He takes Felix’s hand. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to do it, Lixie. We’re setting this up together, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s just a very involved bit of jealousy play. And that’s always fun.” His earnest expression melts into something more mischievous again. “Oppa likes it when I get jealous, because jealousy makes me really bratty.”

“Mmhmm.” Soobin agrees, a little rumble that’s half agreement, and half erotic memory. “We’re clear on what this is. A scene in the truest sense of the word. None of this is real — but it’s the feeling real that’s important.” He turns to Chan, “Now, I think I have a fairly good idea of their dynamic, since I’ve seen them playing at God’s Menu…” Felix can’t help sneaking a glance at Chan. Chan notices him looking and shakes out the hard set of his jaw, giving Felix a smile. Even though they’ve been clear — Felix has been clear — that his dating history can’t be a forbidden topic, they don’t really talk about it either. It’s felt too fraught, like they’re still too close to it. That’s another thing Felix hopes to change. “But I can’t be Changbin — he has several dozen pounds of muscle on me, for one thing. And also I don’t feel comfortable being a literal stand-in for him, both personally and in terms of the places that could go for you two. But I’m happy to be a proxy of sorts. A symbol of everything you’re feeling jealous of, and a way to work through it.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Chan tells him. “I think it’s the fantasy of this—the fact that we both know it’s not actually real? That will let us work though what we need to. No one would ask you to actually pretend to be him or anything like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think either of us want to do anything that’s trying to literally recreate any real experiences.” Felix says, shuddering.

As much as the idea of having two Doms fighting over him had been hot as a fantasy, the small taste of reality had mostly just been stressful. To put it mildly.

“Obviously.” Soobin agrees. But he throws Yeonjun a very significant look as he says,  “No one’s talking about actually pretending to be someone else during sex to recreate a very specific event that happened in real life. To work through their jealousy about it.”

Yeonjun is actually blushing. “Right,” He says quickly. “Obviously.”

Felix gives him a sideways glance. This definitely sounds like something Felix needs to ask his best friend about later. He files that away for last.

“I think as long as we just sort of get the flavor right? If that makes sense.”

"That’s fine with me.” Soobin agrees. “So I guess…let’s start planning, right? I don’t think we need to plan everything out blow by blow, but I think we should all have a very good idea of what is going to go down.”

“I agree,” Chan says at the same time Felix does.  

When Chan reaches out and gives his hand a squeeze, Felix looks over at him and smiles. He’ll do anything to help them move on from the past. Anything Chan needs.

***

That night, Chan makes what he insists is a poor facsimile of his mum’s curry, despite Felix running interference with Chan’s mum via text, and then they settle in to watch a movie. Felix can’t really concentrate on the movie though. He’s still thinking over the details of the scene they’d sketched out with Soobin that afternoon.

It’s not really about Changbin, in the end. It’s about Chan, always too hard on himself. It’s about Chan forgiving himself for how they got here.

And Felix would do this scene even if it was just for Chan, but the truth is that the scene they’ve planned will be cathartic for Felix too. It will allow him to give voice to his deepest, most shameful feelings, those thoughts that were true and also not true. Too dangerous to be voiced, even in his own head. This will be a space, entirely divorced from any reality that exists beyond the playroom. A space where all those unthinkable thoughts he had while he was with Changbin can’t hurt anyone, where they won’t cheapen what he had with Changbin. Because this part isn’t really about Changbin either, it’s about himself, and Chan. The whole scene is. All their messiest feelings transmuted into pure inescapable id.

In context, Felix is hopeful it will be what they need. What Chan needs. But outside of that context, he wants to be clear.

“He was a good boyfriend.” Felix says, as the opening credits roll. “Changbin.”

Chan grabs the remote and pauses the movie. He doesn’t say anything, just rubs his thumbs in circles where it rests on Felix’s hip and waits for him to keep going.

“He was a good boyfriend, and a good Dom. He took care of me. I just…didn’t take care of myself. But he made me…as happy as I could be without you, I think. I just need you to know that. I know…it’s not really about him. All of this. But I just…need you to know.”

“It’s not,” Chan agrees. “Just my own shit.”

“Our shit.” Felix says.

Chan laughs a little, and Felix leans in and kisses the side of his mouth, because even his laugh sounds tired. Chan turns his head to return the kiss full on the mouth, soft and chaste, sighing a little as he pulls away.

“I’m glad he made you happy while you were with him.” Chan says. “Maybe you don’t believe me, given…well, all of this…” He gives a little chagrined laugh, encompassing all his worries and jealousy, and their reckless, hopeful plan to get through it.  “But I am. I just wanted you to be happy. I never thought he didn’t make you happy. Just…that I could make you happier.”

And Chan makes Felix happier than anyone in the world, and Felix can even tell him that these days, so he just nods, and settles back into Chan.

They make it halfway through the movie before Chan asks, “So he really never ate you out?”

Felix snorts and hits him with a pillow, inadvertently instigating a pillow fight which quickly and inevitably devolves into Felix pressed face down into the couch while Chan spreads him wide and eats him like he’s starving.  

Felix doesn’t even notice when the movie ends but he doesn’t mind either. The night is a welcome reprieve, and for the first time in so many days, he thinks he sees how they’ll move on from all of this.

***

On the one occasion they’ve actually played together, Felix’s interaction with Soobin had been very indirect. Just Soobin directing Yeonjun on how to get Felix off. But today's session is going to be a lot more hands-on. A lot more.

Felix:
you’re sure you’re
okay with this

Yeonjun:
I would have said. Promise.  
Not much I wouldn’t do for you.
Besides if there’s anyone I don’t have to worry about it’s you.
You love Chris-hyung so much there’s no room for anyone else.

Felix long presses to love Yeonjun’s message, and hands his phone to Chan to keep as they head down the hall to past Room 318 to the other playroom. Today Room 218 is performing double duty as neutral territory for him and Chan, and familiar territory for Yeonjun and Soobin.

“How are you feeling?” Chan asks.

“A little nervous,” Felix admits. “But also…I’m sort of excited?”

“Good,” Chan says, cupping the back of his head to pull him in from a kiss. “Me too.”

As they separate, his hand slips down to the back of Felix's neck, and Felix lets that firm grip swing open the door inside his mind.

“Once you go into this room, you’ll obey Soobin until I come to you. Do you understand, little one?”

He nods. “Yes, Sir…”

***

Soobin is right, he’s the opposite of Changbin, physically. Where Changbin was short but broad, all powerful muscle mass, Soobin is tall and thin, and sleekly muscled. But he’s so tall that he towers over Felix, and his hand is big enough to cover Felix’s whole face if he wanted. So even though the two men are very different, in this space, Soobin’s height and his huge hands make Felix feel deliciously small and delicate in a way that isn’t all that dissimilar.

He’s not Felix’s Sir, he’s not Felix’s Hyung, but the power and control in him is undeniable, and Felix feels his submissive self responding to it easily. He can feel Chan's teaching in Soobin’s steady, slow rope work and with each firm knot, Felix falls deeper.

“Test the ropes for me.”

Felix tries to flex his arms, behind his back, his chest, thrust out, criss-crossed with rope. He’s snug enough that there’s no way he’s getting out of this, even if he wanted to. But he doesn’t want to, he just wants to be helpless and helpful. Anything and everything his Sir needs.

“Can I get a color?”

“Green, hyung.” He says.

“Good boy,” Soobin replies, and the word shudders through him. “You just want to be a good boy, don’t you?” Soobin asks. “You want it so badly you can barely breathe, don’t you, pretty baby?

“Yes,” Felix breathes. “Please let me be good for you, hyung.”

Because his Sir is watching, Sir told him not to look, but he feels him, he will always feel him. And Sir gave him to this ‘hyung’ to obey. He will be good for his Sir by being a good boy for hyung…

CHAN

‘Go get me a drink, pretty thing.’

Except for that once, Chan has never watched Felix be Dominated by anyone else before.

And he hates it.

Vaguely, he knows that Yeonjun is there in the chair beside him, no doubt watching and hating this as much as he does. But he only has eyes for the scene in front of him, like his jealousy and his rage are blinders, blocking out anything else in the room.

Every part of him is screaming to get up, to end this now. As he watches another Dom commands his little one. Another man order his little one to his knees. As he watches another man’s hand fisting in his little one’s silky golden hair, another man fucking his little one’s pretty pink mouth.

Another Dom fucking Felix, bouncing Felix like a toy on his cock. He’s not strong enough to lift Felix up and down the way Chan can, and there’s a vicious wave of triumph at the thought, but it does nothing to assuage the feelings raging inside him.

With every fiber of his soul, from the depth of his being, the possessive rage burning up the blood in his veins is secondary to the pervasive feeling that he is watching something wrong. Like the earth spinning backwards, like ingesting poison, something his animal mind rejects on a basic, cellular level.

But he watches. He watches and he sees everything: Felix’s glassy eyes, his face slack with pleasure. His obedient voice. His sighs, his pants, his moans. Every sound pierces Chan like a bullet, ripping shreds of flesh away. His pound of flesh.

So he doesn’t look away. He pays in full for every minute, every month of his blindness.

As Chan hears Felix’s voice hitch up two octaves, as he hears the quickening of his breath, he can’t take it any more. It’s not even a decision, only the final thread of his control finally snapping. This time, he will claim his property.

“Wait.”

Just one word, but it rings through the air, cutting through the sounds of rough breathing, the lewd slap of naked skin.

And he knows his little one hears him because he goes completely still.

Chan pushes himself up and out of the chair, propelled over by the sheer force of his need to take back what is his. It’s the only thing that matters. As he strides across the room, all he sees is Felix’s eyes, locked on him.

It’s time to claim his little one, like he should have done then.

FELIX

Dimly, Felix is aware that Soobin is still inside him. But the only thing he can see is his Sir walking towards him, as his racing heartbeat slows to the rhythm of those footsteps. The pleasure that was building and building begins to dissipate. His Sir commanded him to wait, so he will wait.

And then Chan is there, his hand on the back of Felix’s neck.

“Keep your orgasm for me.”

Felix finds his voice at his Sir’s command. “They’re all yours, Sir.”

And then Chan is sinking to his knees between Felix’s legs, between Soobin’s.

“Then come for me, little one.”

Felix can only obey his Sir’s command, coming as Sir’s plush mouth wraps around his cock, giving himself up, every last drop, his entire soul. He’s still trembling with it as Chan’s fingers grip tight on his jaw. Felix opens for him, desperate and eager, as Chan spits his cum into his mouth, swallows down the bitter salt tang of it as Chan's  mouth claims his.

“You don’t need him.” Chan hauls him bodily off of Soobin’s lap, slinging Felix over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And you will always be mine.”

And maybe it shouldn’t feel like this, like lips on his face, and fingers on his skin, like a benediction and everything he’s ever wanted. But it does.

Chan sets him gently on the bed because Felix is still bound, can’t even hold himself up. “I’m going to cut these ropes off you, little one,” Chan says, and sure enough, moments later, Felix hears the gentle snip of the scissors through rope. “But I want you to stay still. You don’t need ropes to stay still for me right now, do you baby? To be good for your Sir?”

“No, Sir.” Felix agrees blissfully. He can be anything, his Sir wants, now that he’s here, where he belongs.

He stays still and content as Chan removes the final ropes that bind his hands to his back, melting under Chan's firm touch, as he works the blood flow back into Felix’s arms and hands, lays him back on the bed.

His ever simmering arousal kicks up a notch higher as Chan flips him over onto his stomach, wrenching him down to the edge of the bed, spreading his cheeks, holding him lewd and open. There’s no way to hide; wrecked and debauched and needing his Sir just as though his legs aren’t still trembling from his orgasm.

“Look at you, little one. My pretty little slut, even with your pretty hole fucked open by another Dom, you’re still not satisfied, are you, baby?”

Sir’s hands on him then, inspecting his aching hole, sending little shivers of pleasure through him as he strokes and probes.

“No, Sir.” He’s been aching since Chan collected him, and every probing touch makes him need more, makes him realize all over again how empty he feels without his Dom filling him up. “Please Sir.”

“Please what, Sir?” His tone is almost dispassionate, but his touch is tender and as always, Felix burns with the contrast. “Tell me what you need, little one.”

“You, Sir. I need you. I need you inside me Sir, please.”

“My sweet little slut so needy for my cock.” Those beloved fingers, circling his rim, slowly, oh so slowly, pause. “Wasn’t that you, bouncing on another Dom’s cock?”

“Yes, Sir.” Felix whimpers. “But he couldn’t give me what I need. I need you, Sir.”

“And that other Dom who fucked you? What was he, little one?”

The slick slide of Chan’s fingers, sending shivers through him.

“Getting me ready for you, Sir.” Felix tells him, and he’s never meant anything more.

He feels the warmth of Chan’s breath ghost over his skin, and he drags in a gasp that sends the anticipation rushing through him.

“While he split you open on his cock, what was he, little one?

“Keeping me open for you, Sir.” He says. "I belong to you, Sir.”

“That’s right. And now that you’re all ready for me, little one, let me have what’s mine.”

 Felix can’t see Chan right now, not at this angle but he can feel those eyes all over him, so much and not enough and he trembles with need.

“Yours, Sir. All yours.”

“I don’t want you coming again until my cock is in your ass.” Chan orders, as his strong arms hook under the junctions of Felix’s thighs. "If I feel you start to come, I'm going to ruin it. Understand?"

“Yes, Sir.” He’s agreeing blindly to the command and then he’s hauled back onto the inescapable, inexorable heat of his Sir's mouth.

Felix barely registers his own voice, chanting oh, oh oh, as the pleasure twists inside his belly, as his Dom devours him, the onslaught of pleasure whiting out every memory of the man who had been there before him tonight. Felix is shaking, panting, fighting hard against the waves that threaten to overwhelm him.

Chan lifts his head, slips a hand to land two quick, hard slaps to the sensitive skin of Felix’s upper thighs, sharp jolts of pain that interrupt the feed of pleasure.

“If you don't want my cock, you can just say so, baby.” His voice is a tease and a warning all at once as the prickling spreads across Felix’s skin.

“I want it, please, Sir. I’ll be good, Sir.” Felix moans. “Please.”

His Sir is so good to him, sucking a little row of lovely mean bites along his thigh, right under his ass, stinging pain to focus on while the urge to come subsides.

“Thank you, Sir.” He sobs gratefully, voice breaking on a moan as Chan's tongue slides deep inside him.

Chan resumes his thorough tongue-fucking, the pleasure wracking through Felix again, in a sweet rush like it had never abated.

“Please, Sir, please.” He begs, and he doesn’t know whether he’s begging for it to stop, or keep going.

Just when he thinks he can’t hold on any longer, the sensation stops. Felix chokes back a little sob at the loss of it. The air is cold on his wet, aching hole.

The slap of Sir’s cock against his hole makes him keen.

“That other Dom who fucked my hole, did he make you feel good, little one?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But he didn’t give you what you need, did he?”

The slick slide of Sir’s cock against his hole, so so close to where he needs it. But he can’t push back like this, can’t do anything but take what his Sir chooses to give him.  He sobs again, this time in anticipation.

“No, Sir.”

“No,” Chan agrees, dispassionately. But there’s nothing casual about the bruising grip of his hands on Felix's hips. Nothing dispassionate about the press of his blunt cockhead against Felix’s hole, poised just on the threshold. “Tell me again, little one. Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sir. I have always belonged to you. I have never—" He's trembling, cracked open, with the waiting and the having, eyes burning, cheeks wet. "I have never felt like anyone's but yours."

CHAN

‘I have never felt like anyone's but yours.’

The simple certainty of the words hit him full on, illuminating his soul like light. Warm and bright and real, searching out the shadows hiding there. And something in Chan begins to mend.

With Felix fucked open like this, any force behind his thrust will be neutralized by the easy glide, so Chan makes it slow instead, eyes riveted to the sight of his own cock disappearing inside Felix’s shiny hole, inch by inch. Felix lets out a long, shaky sigh of pleasure when Chan finally bottoms out.

Connected.

Felix is so primed for pleasure, so desperate for it that he’s trembling and panting with it. So Chan just tightens his grip on Felix’s hips, digging his fingers into the soft flesh until he feels the sharp bones beneath, until he knows Felix will wake up tomorrow with the shape of Chan's fingers blooming on both sides, and he waits, sheathed in the sweet greedy squeeze of him, until he's sure his little one won't come yet. His good boy waits with him. Because he knows as well as Chan does that he can give Felix everything he needs. Knows that he can, and trusts that he will.

“Who gives you what you need?”

He thrusts once, sharp and quick, snapping his hips, and Felix’s answering groan is chasm deep.

“Only you, Sir. It’s always been you.”

He fucks Felix slow and shallow, even though he feels his own control shredding already. He tightens his grip on it, not wanting to lose control yet, wanting to keep Felix here for a while longer, balancing on the edge.

“While tying you up in his ropes and choking you on his cock…who did you belong to you?”

“You, Sir.”

“While he was balls deep in you, fucking what’s mine…who did you belong to you, little one?”

Chan pulls back until he's almost pulled out entirely, just so he can push in deep again, slow, slow. He slides his hands over Felix's hips to his back, feeling the heaving of Felix's breath beneath his fingers. He presses him into the mattress, feeling the shift of the muscles in Felix's back as he  grinds mercilessly against his prostate, kicking Felix’s answer high and sweet, as his slender fingers clutch at the sheets above his head, “You, Sir.”

From the way Felix is clenching around him, from the way he’s voice has soared up those octaves and stayed there, from the way every inch of his skin is gleaming with sweat, the way his whole body is tightening like a bow, Chan knows he’s about to come, and it’s that knowledge that let’s him hold onto his own control.

“No matter who’s inside you, who does your body belong to?”

“You, Sir.” His good sweet little one answers right away, working so hard for him, the words are more breath than meaning.

“And your heart?” Chan's own heart is racing, as he grits his teeth, holding on with every last inch of control. “No matter who you’re with, who does your heart belong to?”

“You, Sir.”

The answer comes sweet and true, frayed at the edges, as Felix falls apart, trembling with the force of his orgasm, shaking and moaning, in time with each thrust, lovely and broken, please please please.

“I have you, baby. I have you. You don’t need anyone else.” Chan soothes as he fucks Felix through his orgasm straight into another, fucks his little one gorgeous and wordless with pleasure. “You have me. Body. And soul.” He grits out the words. “You have me.”

His own orgasm roars through him like a tidal wave, yours, yours, yours with every juttering pulse as he pumps every drop into Felix, leaving him breathing hard, but unquenched when he finally pulls out, oh so slow, mesmerized by the sight his own cum leaking out of Felix.

The only sound in the room is the ragged sound of Felix’s breathing. Of his own.

Felix’s head is to the side, his cheek resting on the pillow. His profile is perfect, all sweet slopes and razor-pure angles, his sharp chin and soft cheeks, flushed rose, his golden hair in damp disarray, broken and blissful.

He’s glowing and lovely and still trembling faintly with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and the greed and satisfaction and pride and lust that fill Chan at the sight are indistinguishable from the love he feels, fierce and bone-deep. Soul-rooted.

Mine. All Mine. And claimed the way I should have. As sure of me as I am of him.

The certainty he feels only makes him more greedy.

This is the end of the scene as they’d planned it with Soobin and Yeonjun. But Soobin and Yeonjun left the room ages ago.

It’s just Chan and his little one now. And the only one whose greed matches Chan’s own in his Lixie’s.

“What color are we at, little one?” Chan asks, reaching down to brush a strand of hair out of Felix’s face, down to cup his cheek, and finally resting his fingertips on the pulse at his throat.

A long moment passes, the fingers of his free hand resting against Felix’s hole, oozing sticky with cum, feeling the flutter there, watching the hazy gleam of Felix’s eyes beneath his long lashes.

“Yellow?” It’s a question though, not a statement. This is a yellow Chan can push against,  yellow-green like new leaves, tentative and tender and something that can ripen again and turn green, if he gives Felix exactly what he needs.

He nudges a shallow finger in, dipping inside Felix to drag out cum stained fingers. Making a mess of him, teasing around his fluttering rim, painting him with it, listening to the quickening of his breath.

“Do you need more, baby?”

He slips his fingers inside, two at a time, inside Felix’s oversensitive hole, still full of his cum, feeling Felix twist away from his touch. He goes slow, and holds his fingers still inside, waiting until he feels Felix push back on his fingers. Shy away, then push back, with a little mewl.

“More, Sir.” Felix pants, “Everything, Sir.”

Chan turns him over gently. He’s pliant and lovely, glassy-eyed and red-lipped, as Chan pushes his knees up, lifting Felix’s legs so they rest on Chan's  shoulders, where they belong.

Felix is a gorgeous ruin spread out like this, the hard ridges of his abs a glazed mess, his lashes wet with tears, his chest flushed rose and rising and falling rapidly.

He's the most beautiful thing Chan has ever seen, coaxing every covetous and ravenous and tender feeling, born for him, made for him to love and command and give everything he has, his whole heart, the making and the undoing of him. Chan's chest aches with the force of the love he feels.  

“So pretty like this, little one.” Chan tells him. “Let me fill you up.”

“Please, Sir.” Felix begs.

He feeds his cock in slowly, watching Felix’s face this time. He'll never get tired of it, the way he arches for it, head thrown back, giddy flush high on his cheeks, dewy eyes drifting shut. His moan is high and sweet.

Chan never did go soft, and he’s so hard, like fucking Felix has only made him need it more. It won’t even take long. To give his little one exactly what he needs. Because this is what Chan was born for.

“That’s it, little one. You’re so good for me.” Felix is slick and warm and wet and open as Chan fucks into him again. “Taking me so well. You were made for me.”

“Only…for you…” Felix breathes, his breath hitching as Chan drives into him hard.

“Gonna fill you so full with my cum that you can’t even hold it, baby.” Chan tells him, bending him in half as he leans over him, fucking him into the bed now, dissolving his words into lush little groans like slips of rough velvet.

“Please,” Felix gasps.  “Sir, Sir…”

He's there already, back to the edge as though he'd never left it, his beautiful little one, and Chan loves his good boy so much he can barely breathe. Can't do anything but give him exactly what he needs, every single time.

“That’s it. Come for me again, little one.” Chan urges. “Give me one more”

Felix comes with a final velvet gasp, dry and beyond spent, so beautifully fucked out,

as Chan pumps into him, making a filthy mess of him. “That’s it, baby. Take it all.” He grits out. “Every drop.” He’s coming so hard he feels electric with it, emptying every last drop into his little one, just like he begged for.

He collapses on top of Felix, surrounded by the scent of them, the only sound his own heartbeat and the sound of Felix’s pulse in his ears.

***

As Chan gathers him to his chest, Felix snuggles up to him, wordless and blissful. Chan strokes Felix’s damp hair, and lets his baby float. As he listens to the even sound of Felix's breathing, Chan realizes how light he feels.

The oily residue of jealousy, regret and remorse is gone, washed clean. He’d been living with the weight of that jealousy for nine months, so long that it had almost become part of him. So long that it had taken nothing at all for regret and remorse to take root inside it. But now he can finally just set it down. All his jealousy. All his regret and remorse.

Because the truth is that all his stupidity and blindness and all the wasted time don't matter in the face of their love.

The past doesn’t matter, not in the face of their future. Or maybe if it does matter, it matters because it brought them here. Because they have belonged to each other this whole time. Irrevocably and unchangeably. Their love for each other is not a fact that must be known or understood to be true. It just is.

And in the end, he’d figured it out. And they’re together. And that’s the only thing that matters.

Felix belongs to him. And he belongs to Felix.

Then, now and always.

Forever.

And in the end, what is nine months when compared with forever?

“Channie-hyung,” Felix says, after a while, husky and sweet in a voice that’s utterly wrecked.

Chan can’t answer right away, so full of love that he feels it seeping out of every pore. Because he can hear the happiness suffusing his name on Felix’s lips and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

He tilts Felix’s chin up for a kiss, and Felix opens for him so sweetly, with a little happy sigh.

“Are you back with me, Lixie?” Chan murmurs.

Felix nods against him. He raises himself on his arms and looks around. “Where are Soobin and Yeonjun?”

Chan can’t help but laugh, because he feels giddy with this lightness now. Just happy. Nothing marring it.

“They left a while ago, baby.”

“Oh really?” Felix asks, cheerfully.

“Yeah,” Chan says, dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

FELIX

Felix snuggles back down into Chan's arms. They’ll definitely have to get up and take an actual shower soon, but Chan’s hard chest is his favorite place to be, always, but especially like this, in the post-scene moments when Felix is mostly out of subspace but still feels light and airy, like he’s made of lazy afternoon sunshine.

The thought of warm water, and Chan massaging the shampoo through his hair, of his thorough, gentle hands all over Felix, soaping him up, teasing out the lingering aches and cataloging the earliest marks to appear…it’s almost enough to motivate him to move. But not quite yet.

He wants to stay here, just a little longer, trailing his hands greedily over every inch of Chan's  skin that he can reach, cuddling with grabby hands because he will never ever get enough of the way this feels.

Chan is always calm during these aftercare cuddles, but there’s something more to the peace that’s radiating from him now, in the restful movements of his hands in Felix’s hair, the pleased sound of his laughter.

There’s a lightness to Chan that there hadn’t been in a while. Maybe…ever since the day he told Chan that he and Changbin were dating. And the enormity of that hits Felix all at once, filling the blank and quieted corners of him that are still lovely and hollow from their scene.

“Oh, baby,” Chan says, softly, because of course he notices even before the first tears leak out from Felix’s eyes. He shifts to wipe a gentle thumb over Felix’s wet cheek, and Felix smiles at him, all watery joy.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He asks. “You got what you hoped you would out of it.”

Chan nods, his eyes steady and clear.

“Yeah,” He confirms. “It's not…it doesn't change all the things I was obsessing over." He says, "But it just made me realize that… The only thing I was going to do by obsessing over it was giving up more time. When none of that fucking matters, because we’re together."

"I told you it didn't." Felix reminds him.

"You did," Chan says. "And I knew what you were saying, but I guess I this whole time, but now…now I finally feel it, you know? Like, not in my head but…here.” He presses a hand to his chest, face earnest until his mouth tugs into a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I know that’s corny, I just don't know how else to explain.

“It’s okay,” Felix says. “I’m just glad."

"And you're good, baby?" Chan asks, so gently.

"I'm good." Felix says. "I'm really good. I'm glad we did this."

And he's so deliciously tired, aching in the sweetest way, his muscles singing, and he'll probably sleep for a million years tonight, but he's so fucking happy. Because the shadows in Chan's eyes are gone, and that's all he wanted. This, this is all he wants. All he's ever wanted.

Chan's fingers trace down the corner of his eye, over his cheekbone, mapping his freckles. He cups Felix's cheek as Felix leans in to kiss him, because he's still smiling.

"I just want to be us. Not our past, not how we got here. Just us, together. You know?"

“Thanks for being so patient with me, baby.”

“I just want you to have what you need.” Felix tells him.

“Which is you.” Chan says. “Just you.”

“I’m going to make Yeonjun and Soobin the biggest batch of brownies tonight.” Felix says, after Chan has kissed away the last of his tears, and Chan just laughs.

CHAN

That evening, after Felix almost falls asleep waiting for the brownies to finish baking, Chan carries him to bed for an early night. Despite his drowsy protestations, his baby falls asleep easily, worn out from their long day. By all rights, Chan should be exhausted too, but he feels too good to sleep tonight. Because even with his sunshine sleeping peacefully in his arms, his insomnia and his always busy brain conspire to keep him awake, and now there is nothing but joy in his thoughts, turned firmly back to all his plans, back to collars and gold rings…  

To forever.