Chapter Text
When Bang Chan presented as an alpha, no one was surprised.
Although he was a bit of a late bloomer, the world had its idea of what a proper alpha was like and Chan fit that to a tee. He’d quickly gone from a shy, scrawny teenager to an outgoing, broad-shouldered young man with a natural inclination to take charge and protect others. He’d been told time and time again that an alpha presentation was right around the corner. It was obvious.
So, going into his first rut felt right, and he knew from that day forward he wanted his own pack to lead.
Of course, this is where Chan decided he’d had enough of doing what was expected of him.
He’d found seven other alphas he adores, who adore him right back, and he proudly wears their mating marks up and down the length of his spine. Minho’s is at the base of his neck, with Jeongin’s right above his tailbone.
They’d barely finished healing when the tension amongst them began to steadily rise.
It started out small. Little grievances one might have when they share a living space with so many other people.
“Did you use all the hot water?”
“Sure did.”
“Ugh. You suck.”
Things they’d dealt with before.
“You left your hair in the sink.”
“So?”
“So? Try cleaning up after yourself.”
Yet, the arguments very quickly escalated, both in volume and frequency.
“You forgot to get my banana milk.”
“You should’ve come to the store with me then.”
“I was going to! You left without me!”
“Because you took a fucking hour to get ready!”
It’s not that an all-alpha pack is unheard of, per say. But it certainly isn’t common.
“I know you fucking touched my guitar!”
“No I fucking didn’t! I can’t even play that hunk of shit!”
“Which makes me wonder why you fucking touched it!”
And there’s a reason for that.
Chan is beginning to reach the outskirts of his seemingly never ending patience. Their honeymoon phase post-official-mating lasted a blissful few weeks before squabbles over the littlest things began to break out, and Chan has exhausted himself trying to keep everyone from ripping each other’s throats out. Where he used to find immense comfort in coming home to their combined pack scent, said scent has turned sour with their bitterness.
Rotten leaves and fruit. Nothing like the rainy spring forest he loves.
He can’t even bring himself to blame the others. He's the pack leader. The head alpha. The fact that he can’t get a handle on his pack’s behavior has to be a testament to his failure in that role.
It’s enough to bring tears to his eyes. Tears he saves for when he’s alone, when his bed is left cold and empty because everyone has opted to sleep in separate rooms again. It’d been a joke when they first moved in. That they wouldn’t need so many rooms. Not without how they gravitate towards each other nightly, often forming pack piles on the couch or in the larger beds.
Back then, Chan couldn’t tell anyone the last time all beds in their home stayed occupied throughout the night. Now, his body and his sleep suffer in the absence of another beside him.
He’d do anything for Jisung to torture him with his frigid feet.
“Are my feet cold?” His very first alpha would ask, shoving them against Chan’s naked back and cackling as Chan shrieked.
Chan doesn’t move when the salty wetness pooling against his pillowcase starts to make the sensitive skin at his temples burn.
He deserves it.
A good pack leader sees conflict developing within their pack and gets to the root of the problem, finding a solution that may not be perfect for everyone involved, but is ultimately the right thing to do for the pack as a whole.
Luckily for Chan’s pack, he is a fantastic pack leader, despite what Chan himself might say on the contrary. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep them all together, to see them thrive. He knows that what they’ve become isn’t them. It’s not the dynamic he’s known for years, and to Chan that means it’s fixable. They just need time to adjust to the increased intensity that comes with being a mated pack of all alphas.
And Chan knows exactly how to help.
He’d noticed the first signs of approaching ruts amongst the pack just days ago. Their ruts rarely synced in the past, but things change when you’re mated. They'd expected, were even excited , about the prospect of a fully synchronized pack rut. All eight of them staying home from work to fuck the shit out of each other for a week straight? It not only sounds like a damn good time, but it’s exactly what they’ve been needing.
So, when Chan wakes up one morning sweating bullets and horny as fuck, he feels a rush of exhiliration for what’s to come. He feels clear-headed, so it’s only his pre-rut, meaning Google definitely did not lie. His first rut as a mated alpha is going to be intense .
In a singular motion his comforter is on the floor and his hand is in his shorts. A dry fist makes a piss poor imitation of something to fuck, but it’s certainly better than nothing.
God, he feels so needy . Looking at his alarm clock, he groans when he sees that it’s barely six in the morning. Meaning all of his mates are most definitely still sleeping. He’s on his own for now.
Fishing a very well-loved bottle of lube out of the top drawer of his bedside table, he squirts entirely too much of it out onto his palm before tossing the bottle and pushing his shorts to his knees. Too eager to warm the lube, Chan dumps it over his cock, stroking himself before deciding he’s craving something else.
He’s able to slide two fingers inside himself with relative ease, but he’s no omega. He can’t open as easily, no matter how much he might like to. Taking measured breaths, Chan slowly works his way up to three fingers. He has to bite down on the corner of his pillow when he adds a fourth.
But it’s not enough.
He needs dick. Now.
6:07 AM
…A toy will have to do.
Springing off the bed with a new sense of purpose, Chan hikes up his shorts and scurries over to his dresser. He cringes in discomfort as the mess of lube between his legs starts to run down his thighs and stick to the fabric of his shorts, but manages to ignore it. He has to. He’s on a mission now.
Their toys are spread throughout the bedrooms and frequently move from person to person (with diligent cleanings in between, of course), so it’s always like a little surprise when they go searching for them. This time, however, he finds nothing, which definitely does not make him pout.
Chan takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and sniffs, hoping that even with the early hour one of his mates is awake. To his delight, he detects Seungmin’s sweet, earthy scent most prevalently. Quietly giggling, he skips into the hallway and down to the last bedroom, taking in deeper and deeper lungfuls of dewy, freshly cut grass as he goes.
By the time he’s outside of the younger alpha’s room, the grass is on fire and Chan can hear soft, familiar grunts on the other side.
Looks like Seungmin’s rut has come first.
Chan is damn near giddy now. His skin tingles. His chest feels tight. His cock throbs.
He must be even closer to his own rut than he thought.
“Seungmin?” Chan calls tentatively, rasping his knuckles against the door. “Can I come—?”
Chan startles when the door is wrenched open, revealing a completely nude, wide eyed Seungmin, heavy cock standing at attention and knot half-popped. It looks fucking painful . Chan makes a sad noise, because he can’t stand seeing any of his boys so miserable.
“Seungmin—”
Again, Chan is cut off. This time, it’s by Seungmin circling a hand around one of his wrists and pulling him into the room. Chan decides to let it happen, allowing himself to be dragged and thrown onto the bed with a strength Seungmin only displays during his worst ruts. It’s so rare to see Seungmin lose his carefully-crafted composure like this, and Chan would be lying if he said he didn’t find it extremely hot. Excitement courses through his veins, a sickeningly sweet peach syrup scent turning the air that surrounds them heady and thick.
“Is,” Seungmin gulps, kneeling on the bed but stopping before he moves towards Chan. “Is this okay?”
There’s no hesitation on Chan’s part. “Yes. Please. ”
Seungmin pounces in an instant, pushing Chan’s legs down with considerable force and placing himself between them. The insides of Chan’s thighs burn at being stretched so far apart. Seungmin squeezes his hands where they hold Chan under his knees, a silent command not to move. Chan feels no defiance at the silent order. Though a pack leader he may be, it is remarkably easy to submit to his mates in the bedroom.
“I’m already prepped,” Chan whispers. He hopes he doesn’t wake any of the others up, but knowing his tendency to (involuntarily) whine at the top of his lungs when he’s being fucked, he wouldn’t be surprised if another one of his rut-drunk mates comes stumbling in. Maybe they’ll share him. Maybe the other will knot his throat. Maybe they’ll bicker over his hole then fuck him at the same time. Chan shivers at the myriad of possibilities.
Seungmin’s nostrils flare, no doubt imagining Chan preparing himself in anticipation of being knotted. He smirks and walks his fingers down Chan’s thigh, finds loose stitching along the inner seam of his ratty shorts, then tears them in half without warning. The younger alpha makes the opening even larger with a huff and another pull, exposing only Chan’s lubed-soaked cock and hole.
Fuck. If Chan was an omega he would be dripping slick right now.
Ah. Isn’t that a thought. Being an omega. Chan laughs it off. Because they don’t need an omega—they only need each other. This proves it.
“Fuck me,” Chan demands. “Now.”
Seungmin isn’t one to waste time, bottoming out instantly and draping himself over Chan’s body, licking fat stripes across the scent glands that sit in the curve of his neck.
Chan feels a familiar haze wash over him. Being in the arms of one of his mates, of someone he loves and trusts, makes the transition into a full blown rut actually relaxing.
Only for a moment, though. The want, the need , to get off in any way shape or form quickly follows. Chan winds his legs around Seungmin’s waist, unafraid of hurting either of them as he pulls Seungmin closer and in turn buries the cock inside of him a bit deeper. Chan can already feel the swell of a knot against his hole.
“You’re so loose, hyung,” Seungmin says in his ear, breathing hotly as he starts snapping his hips at a brutal pace. It creates a perfect rhythm between the slap of skin against skin, the squelch of excessive lube, and Chan’s perfectly-timed staccato moans.
Predictably, they get loud. It’s a lot harder to remember their packmates are sleeping when they’re blinded by the fog that rut brings.
Or—maybe they do remember, and simply do not care.
Perhaps that’s why they don’t stop when Minho bursts into the room, reeking of singed leather. Seungmin doesn’t even look at him, but Chan turns his head to regard Minho with what he’s sure is fucked out desperation and eyes that beg the other alpha to come forward. While Chan’s base instinct is more than happy to see Minho, the part of his brain that still retains rational thought during ruts, the pack leader part, senses something is wrong. Minho’s scent is…
It’s angry . Seungmin’s spikes in response, finally stopping to glare at their voyeur when Chan tenses considerably around his cock.
Chan is suddenly very aware of the increasing hostility in the room. A room he now shares with two other alphas, also in rut. Their first rut since they became a mated pack.
Chan comes to the conclusion that maybe he should’ve had a better plan going into this.
Minho is second only to Felix in terms of possessiveness. And he’s in rut. They all are.
Shit.
Chan sees the exact moment Minho’s expression shifts, becoming almost vicious as he springs forward and grabs Seungmin by the elbow, pulling him out of and away from Chan before pushing him aside.
Again, Chan’s brain is at war with itself even as he rolls his hips in Minho’s direction. On one hand he doesn’t care who fucks him, just that they do it before his dick explodes. On the other, he recognizes that he needs to calm his mates down before they lose it and start fighting in earnest.
Chan dismisses the fleeting thought that such a thing would be a hell of a lot easier with a beta or an omega in their ranks. They don’t need anyone else, goddamnit.
He's their pack leader. He has to take control.
“Go fuck Jeongin,” Minho hisses, eyeing Chan’s ripped clothing. “Hyung is mine this time.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Seungmin hisses right back. He elbows Minho in his side, not caring when the older alpha stumbles and nearly slips to the floor. Minho follows it with a shove of his own, albeit a little harder, that almost puts Seungmin on his back.
The smell of a distressed alpha is cloying. Visceral. Alphas, pack leaders , shouldn’t feel so cornered, so…afraid, especially amongst their own. It turns Chan’s scent acidic, stamping out any notes of pleasure that may have been present only moments before. Chan tries not to whine, instead growling low and deep. It’s a very clear final warning to his mates, who should’ve reacted to the changing scent and commanding vocalizations.
But it’s like Chan isn’t even there.
Seungmin rolls, then grabs Minho by the shoulder, slotting his hand over the older alpha’s collarbone and squeezing hard . It’s a dirty move, but it’s not enough to make Minho go limp, who instead reacts by flinging himself backwards and putting Seungmin in a headlock.
“Hey!” Chan barks, ready to intervene and separate the two physically if he has to. He can’t fucking believe a fight is breaking out over who gets to fuck him. It’s so goddamn stupid he wants to rip his hair out. He releases pitiful calming pheromones of an upset alpha when multiple pairs of footsteps come charging down the hallway. In storms Changbin and Jeongin, looking equally disheveled.
Without the context that this is definitely a mutual fight, all they see is Minho holding Seungmin in a headlock and growling like every bit the pissed off alpha he is. They act before Chan can, Changbin putting Minho in a much stronger hold and Jeongin gathering Seungmin close.
Seungmin, though, is hardly receptive to the comfort, harshly shrugging Jeongin off with a mean snarl while steps away Minho sinks his teeth into Changbin’s arm. All four of them start to squabble amongst each other.
“Stop it!” Chan booms, his ruined shorts falling down his legs as he stands. His lower half aches, swollen cock red and inflamed from being denied release so abruptly. “ Now! ”
Things are quickly spiraling out of control—this wasn’t at all how any of this was supposed to go.
Tears of frustration make Chan’s vision swim. He feels frozen. He’s desperately trying to think of a way to deescalate the situation when suddenly Hyunjin and Felix are at his side, looking at him incredulously.
“Chan, what’s going on?” Felix asks. He looks devastated. It makes Chan hate himself. “Why aren’t you stopping them?”
“Yeah, do something!” Hyunjin snaps, and for whatever reason it makes Chan’s hackles rise. Can’t they see that he’s fucking trying?
It’s the volatile combination of weeks of petty arguments, his continuously unfulfilled rut, and Minho and Changbin’s voices jumping to a volume that could be considered screaming that has Chan deploying his own voice, his Alpha Voice, full of suggestion and louder than anything.
“ENOUGH!”
Everything in the room comes screeching to a halt. Seven shocked expressions fall onto him, but no one is able to make direct eye contact. Some of his mates’ heads tilt in submission, while others drop to their knees.
Chan has never used his alpha voice on them before, and had been under the impression he would never have to.
His mates apparently had the same idea, if the hurt evident on their faces is anything to go off of. Chan immediately feels terrible, reeling in his furious burnt sugar scent. It’s replaced with something damp. Shameful.
“Maybe everyone is right,” Hyunjin says. “Maybe we do need an omega.”
Chan finds himself unable to refute it this time.
The remainder of their ruts are ridden out in their individual rooms, behind locked doors.
“Maybe we do need an omega.”
There’s a part of Chan—a prideful, purely alpha part—that wants nothing more than to prove Hyunjin wrong. They can make it as a mated alpha pack without an omega. They’d done so for years as a platonic alpha pack and a romantic non-mated pack, how is this any different?
It’s very different, actually. Incredibly fucking different, and weighed down by an infinite number of factors they grossly underestimated. So much so that Chan has to ignore that bullheaded alpha of his and concede that yes…having an omega around would certainly relieve some of the newfound tension that’s found its way into their lives.
Chan is a good alpha. He’s a better pack leader. He wouldn’t be either if he didn’t take his pack’s concerns seriously.
And therein lies the problem.
Sure, an omega would be nice. Sure, they’ve passed the point of, ‘would be nice,’ and have landed firmly somewhere at, ‘ is definitely needed,’ but need and want are two concepts that often don’t see eye to eye.
While from all sides it definitely looks like his pack needs an additional omega member, that doesn’t mean he necessarily wants one. And despite their now near-constant knotheaded attitudes, Chan is inclined to believe his pack would feel the same way. They’ve always just been… them , and there’s yet to be a day before this where they’ve been anything but opposed to the idea of opening their hearts for a ninth piece. They feel complete.
His mating marks thrum pleasantly as he thinks of his eight.
They feel complete because they are, damnit.
Chan has the thought, ‘Maybe things would be easier if one of us were an omega,’ just as Felix walks through the front door, home from work with a sunny hello. The t-shirt the younger alpha wears, bearing the logo of his workplace, shines like a beacon.
The District Nine Designation Reassignment Clinic.
Chan’s stomach drops.
“You…what?”
“I want to get bitched.”
Felix, his perfect sunshine soulmate Felix, is very bad at schooling his facial expressions. Even Chan, who knows he can be pretty oblivious, easily picks up on the way Felix’s jaw sets, eyelashes flutter, and Adam’s Apple bobs.
“Why would you want to get bitched, Chan?” Felix says carefully.
“Hyunjin was right. We do need an omega.”
“Chan…” Felix flops down on his bed while Chan perches on the end of it, back against the wall. “We don’t need an omega.”
Chan scoffs. “Do you really believe that, Felix? We’re falling apart at the seams.”
Felix reaches over to put his hands on Chan’s shoulders, gently leading the older alpha to scoot closer to him. “I just don’t want you to think you have to do this. You going through such an extensive physical change if you don’t want it will hurt you deeply, Chan. Then we really will fall apart.”
Chan makes sure he’s facing Felix, that his voice is confident and true as he speaks. “You’re right. But I do want to do this.”
Felix purses his lips. “You’re sure this isn’t some self-sacrificial head alpha bullshit?”
Chan doesn’t answer, because they both know the truth. Rather, he asks, “Do you think I would be a good omega?”
“What?” Felix sputters, “Of course you would! You’re an amazing alpha, you’d be an amazing beta or omega or anything else.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. I…I want to provide for my pack. Take care of our needs. And this is the only way to do that without seeking out another pack member.”
“Someone else could do it.”
Chan rolls his eyes, but smiles fondly. “Do you really think anyone else in this pack could be bitched?”
“Fair point.”
“I have questions, though.”
“Okay, what do you want to know?”
“Everything, I suppose.” Chan lets the sleeves of his hoodie fall past his hands, fisting the cuffs in an attempt to ground himself. “I looked up some stuff online but it was a bit scary. I figured it would be better to just ask. Had to work up the nerve, though.”
“The scary stuff doesn’t happen at the clinic, I promise,” Felix says, patting Chan’s bare knee. “Everything is entirely consensual. Would it make you feel better if I walked you through the process?”
Chan nods, abandoning his spot and wrapping around Felix like a koala. The younger alpha laughs, pressing a kiss to Chan’s forehead before whispering okay, baby into his hair.
“Well, first there’s a lot of fun paperwork to read and sign. Boring shit. It’s all about liability and how this is all experimental and not guaranteed to work and please don’t sue us blah, blah, blah.”
Chan chuckles, but stays quiet, and Felix continues. “The first appointment is basically a consultation. Interview, physical exam, et cetera, to make sure you’re a good candidate. If everything checks out we establish safety cues. Then you have the option to go home or stay for the first session.”
“What happens during the first session?”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with. We could all fuck you one right after the other.” Felix lets his hand wander down, settling it against the curve of Chan’s ass and teasing at his hole over his sweatpants. “Plug you up so none of our cum leaks out.”
Chan jumps, but it only puts him more in Felix’s lap. “Th-That might be too much. For the first time.”
Felix pulls away from Chan’s ass with a smirk, locking his arms around his head alpha’s waist instead. “Totally fine. If we start slow, there will be a lot of degradation. And I know how you feel about that, Chris.”
Chan's face turns hot. Felix’s canines catch the light as he smiles.
“It’s split into three phases. It depends on the person, but you’d move from one phase to the next depending on your progress.”
Chan nods. “How long does it usually take?”
“It could take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months.”
“So…what exactly happens?”
“Well, if the bitching is successful…your alpha will submit and allow your body to start changing,” Felix explains. “All alphas have vestigial wombs and slits, just like all omegas have vestigial knots and all betas have both. These parts will hopefully ‘wake up,’ through bitching.”
“So, I’ll become an omega?”
“More or less.”
Chan bites his lip. He knew that to some extent, but to hear it just feels different. Felix picks up on his unease.
“You don’t have to do this, Chan. Seriously. It’s okay. We’ll figure something else out. We always do, don’t we?”
Chan knows that may not necessarily be true. They both do. It’s only a matter of time before there’s another physical fight, and there’s no guarantee Chan will be there to break it up again. Getting bitched may be an unconventional solution, but it’s one that might be crazy enough to work.
“No, I want to do this. I just…”
“You just what, hm?” Felix says coyly, moving his hand to rub circles above Chan’s pelvis—directly over where a womb would be. “You like the idea of becoming the pack omega? Of submitting to all of us?”
Chan swallows audibly. “Um. Yeah. Like it a lot.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice.
“But we already knew that, huh?” Felix laughs, almost maniacally, before becoming serious. “I think you would make a beautiful omega, Channie.”
Suddenly, the path ahead isn’t nearly as scary.
The next morning, Chan announces his decision at breakfast and is met with mixed reactions, which is honestly much better than he was expecting. Changbin and Jisung are worried, Hyunjin and Jeongin are unapologetically into it, and Minho and Seungmin are…quiet, but not necessarily in a bad way. Chan knows them too well to make such an assumption.
They do at least try to tell Chan he doesn’t have to do it, especially not for their sakes, but as they are well aware of how stubborn Chan can be once he’s made a decision, they soon concede.
“So, what role do we play?” Minho asks, some of the first words he’s said all morning. Everyone responds with shows of their own curiosity at the question.
Felix swallows a mouthful of toast. “We get to make our pack alpha submit to us daily for weeks. Mostly through fucking the shit out of him.”
Chan takes tiny bites of his rice, feeling his face heat up because—well, he’s not exactly opposed to that. His inner alpha instinctively fights it, but subgender has very little to do with whether or not someone prefers to be dominant or submissive. And while Chan is good at being dominant, his preference isn’t a secret by any means.
“Sounds right up your alley, Chan-ah…” Jeongin says cutely, emerging from the kitchen with his coffee. He stands over Chan from behind and grabs him by the face, squeezing his cheeks so his pillowy lips form a pout. The youngest alpha then forces Chan’s head back, hyperextending his leader’s neck to make him look straight up at him. Jeongin has to use considerable mental fortitude to resist the urge to bend Chan over the table and fuck him senseless in front of everyone when he meets a teary, doe-eyed gaze. Instead, he chuckles with the same maniacality as Felix. Chan bemoans their shared deceptive innocence, yet happily enjoys the spoils of it.
“And it’s safe?” Seungmin adds. It puts a little damper on the excitement in the room, but no one argues. Chan’s safety is their number one priority.
“It’s…consensual bitching is still an experimental thing.” Felix tilts his head and hums, carefully mulling over his next words. “Really, the worst thing that can happen is the bitching not taking. And it’s okay if it doesn’t! Chan will get a pretty thorough physical before anything happens. Not everyone qualifies for the program, but I have no doubt Chan will, seeing as he’s young, fit, and healthy.”
“I trust you guys,” Chan says, shooting Felix a proud smile and settling when the other returns it. “I know things have been hard lately. But I also know that none of you would ever hurt me, no matter how pissed off you are that I forgot to do the dishes.”
Felix spends the morning going much more in-depth about the bitching process to the rest of the pack. Oddly enough, they have way more questions than Chan did, which the pack leader finds endearing. After being reassured of the clinic’s safety measures—informed consent, medical doctors in house, use of their individual safewords, soundproof rooms, and so on—the overall pack opinion goes from generally apprehensive to very excited.
And then something surrounds them. A thick miasma of a rain-soaked tropical woodland.
It’s them. Their pack scent. The one Chan has missed so fucking much.
For the first time in far too long, they exchange lustful glances—mostly directed at Chan himself. He begins to feel a bit like something under a microscope, blinking owlishly and squirming in place. While this isn’t necessarily new, with the context of what they’re now trying to accomplish, submitting already feels…different. Chan really doesn’t know how to describe it. Not yet, anyway.
“This is a good start,” Felix says, mercifully breaking the prolonged silence. “Non-sexual submission is part of bitching too.”
Jisung scoffs sarcastically. “Oh, I am totally having non-sexual thoughts right now. Mhm. Yep.”
“Really?” Minho questions, sounding serious. “Because I was thinking about Chan’s asshole.”
Chan laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs, squeaking between every other breath. It’s naturally contagious, and as the entire room erupts into giggles something amongst them begins to heal.
Chapter 2
Notes:
cw for some casual exhibitionism/voyeurism, dubious consent, and feminization (just some tho <3)
Chapter Text
The day of Chan’s appointment arrives sooner than Chan—sooner than anyone —thought it would. Chan spends the morning cleaning what’s already clean, a habit of his when anxiety is high. His mates see this and leave him to it, which Chan is incredibly grateful for. He sweeps the spotless floors and wipes down the smooth counters, up until the moment someone touches his waist.
Chan turns, coming face to face with Felix.
“Are you ready, Channie?” He asks, nodding reassuringly as he gives Chan’s side a gentle squeeze. Their silent version of a hug, when it’s not clear what Chan needs. Another reason he loves his mates. Another reason why he’s doing this.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Chan murmurs. He kisses Felix’s nose when the younger alpha frowns at Chan’s less than enthusiastic tone. “I’m okay, sunshine. Just nervous.”
To show as much, Chan pulls Felix into a hug. Felix beams, shoving his little ice cold hands under Chan’s shirt, causing both alphas yelp and giggle. Felix tightens his arms around Chan’s broad middle, aweing at its strength. It’s easy for the young alpha’s mind to go to dirty places—he’s a bit of a pervert, sue him. But it’s hard not to be, with mates like his. He shifts so his hands are gripping at Chan’s waist and presses his thumbs into the dimples on his lower back.
Chan makes a delicious sound, shivering against Felix. Reluctantly, Felix abandons groping his hyung and gives him a kiss on the cheek. The acridic anxiety that’s bled through Chan’s scent all morning lessens, but is still potent enough that Felix frowns, though he quickly replaces it with a smile before Chan can worry about it.
“Can I suggest something?” Felix asks, cupping Chan’s jaw. A freckled thumb tugs along the edge of his plump lower lip.
“Of course.”
“One of us could scruff you. It’s how a lot of our bitching clients start the process. With scruffing.”
Chan tenses. He isn’t exactly sure why. They’ve already discussed in detail the various things Chan may submit to over the next few weeks, and scruffing was one of them that Chan approved of. It’s different now that a situation is actually calling for it, though. It’s almost like the beginning of the end of his life as an alpha. Scruffing happens in many different contexts, but is typically associated with unruly pups or needy omegas. Alphas just don’t allow themselves to be scruffed, regardless of how possible it is.
“It helps with anxiety,” adds Felix, effectively cutting through Chan’s persistent overthinking.
Chan hums, though he doesn’t really have to think it over. Despite their recent rough patches, Chan’s trust in his mates has never diminished. This is all part of submitting to them. “Hm. Okay. That..that sounds good.”
Felix’s expression morphs into something quite cheeky. “You pick.”
“Minho,” Chan immediately blurts. Felix’s elated grin holds. “Please.”
Hand in hand, Chan and Felix make their way to the living room, where everyone is lingering as they prepare to leave. Chan can’t bear to say out loud what it is he wants, so Felix tells Minho—still smiling that cheeky smile of his.
Minho’s nostrils flare at the request and he nods rapidly, hair flopping into his eyes.
When Minho reaches to clasp a hand over the base of Chan’s neck, the touch alone makes his knees wobble.
“Are you ready?” Minho asks it like any other question on any other day. It’s exactly what Chan needs right now.
“Yes,” Chan says quietly, but without hesitation. There’s no one he trusts more right now. “Do it.”
Minho squeezes.
Initially, he feels no different. His scent flares, making him smell of sugar that’s been caramelizing a bit too long, as if it knows that Chan shouldn’t be subjected to scruffing. He’s an alpha. Alphas don’t get scruffed.
Minho squeezes harder, and Chan’s legs give out.
“Whoa!” Minho catches Chan around the waist before he can hit the ground. Chan whines at the loss of contact to his neck. “Shit. Channie. Are you okay?”
“Y-Yeah,” Chan says, taking a few slow, deep breaths. “Just surprised me.”
And with those slow, deep breaths, Chan realizes just how calm he feels. His alpha, on the other hand, is divided. It instinctively wants to resist, but Chan thinks that laying down and presenting his belly to Minho wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Chan whines when Minho steps away for only a moment, to retrieve Chan’s shoes. He sits Chan on the couch and puts each of them on his feet, tying them gently. Chan giggles—the loops remind him of bunny ears, and Minho reminds him of a bunny. His nose even twitches as he looks up at his only hyung.
“Better?”
Chan’s heart is fit to burst. He launches himself at Minho, pinning his arms to his sides in a crushing hug that has the younger alpha groaning, yet making no attempt to get away.
“Better.”
Chan has only seen the District Nine Designation Reassignment Clinic from the inside a handful of times, when he’s brought Felix lunch. He would wait up front for the other to appear, passing the time by marveling at how nice the lobby is. Spotless, decorated with plants and soothing abstract wall art, it contains everything from televisions and comfy chairs, to an aquarium, a gentle bamboo fountain, and a fucking espresso machine. To top it all off it smells amazing, an artificial floral aroma doing well to mask any scents that might bleed out from the back.
It’s clearly designed to set clients at ease. Chan looks over as Hyunjin and Jisung express their excitement for fancy coffee. It’s the first time Chan has seen them interact without animosity in weeks.
“Hello!” The receptionist calls as they all file inside, a small bell ringing over their heads. A tiny older beta woman, with long, bright red acrylic nails. She smells like cookies. Chan remembers her name—Rin—because Felix claims she is his work mom, and Chan can see why. As a beta, her presence is naturally grounding. Comforting. It makes sense as to why the clinic would choose her to be the first face someone sees when they walk in. “Welcome to—oh, Felix! I was beginning to think you would be late. You’re lucky Dr. Young likes you.”
“Rin!” Felix, being Felix, greets her with a hug. “Ah, sometimes it’s hard to get all eight of us out the door.”
Felix fails to mention they were running late because of the whole scruffing thing, which Chan is very grateful for.
Rin hums disapprovingly, but her soft eyes betray her fondness for Felix. “We’ve already got everything set up for Mr. Bang in room three. I’ll take him back alone for now, then let the rest of you boys know when it’s time.”
The thought of being apart from his mates makes Chan’s anxiety return full force. Heart pounding, his shoulders rise to his ears and he feels a rush of panic. Maybe none of this is actually a good idea, and Chan is dooming them his pack to an even worse downfall. Nothing feels right. Nothing—
A hand on his neck, squeezing lightly. He knows that it’s not Minho, but isn’t expecting to see Jisung. His surprise must show, because the younger alpha releases him immediately. Though Jisung reeks of apology, Chan misses the touch and, to his horror, he starts audibly purring when it’s returned.
“Sorry,” Jisung whispers to him, now massaging Chan’s neck. Even though his voice shakes from his own nerves, his focus is entirely on Chan. “I could tell you were starting to freak out.”
God. Now Chan definitely doesn’t want to leave his mates.
“It’s okay,” Chan reassures him, releasing the most comforting pheromones he can. He feels awful for forgetting that his boys are scared too. He isn’t doing this alone, even if he does have to part ways with them for the time being. “It’ll be real quick, yeah? You and Hyunjin can check out that espresso machine.”
Jisung’s eyes sparkle, gasping like he’d forgotten all about the coffee. It’s so cute Chan wants to scream. Instead, he requests hugs from everyone, ending up lightly crushed in the center of a seven-way embrace.
He can’t bring himself look away from his pack until he’s led around a corner.
From there, everything is remarkably…normal. The exam room he’s brought to looks like one in any other doctor’s office. It’s like he’s here for a physical.
Save for the stirrups at the end of the bed, of course.
“Here, hun,” Rin says, pulling him from his staring contest with the stirrups. She’s holding a gown in one hand and a clipboard in the other.
“This is some paperwork for you to sign, along with a gown so the doctor can do your initial exam,” she tells him, voice gentle. “Then, if you’d like to stay for the first session, Daewon will help Felix with your prep and you’ll be escorted to another room to begin. Do you have any questions for me?”
Chan takes them with trembling hands. “No, ma’am.”
“Okay.” Rin nods, her large earring jingling. “Read your paperwork carefully. Get undressed and gowned up. Just crack the door when you’re ready.”
The paperwork is about as boring as Chan expects it to be, especially since he’s already gone over it multiple times at home with the pack and over the phone with a nurse. And the doctor. And his doctor. And a lawyer.
BITCHING CONSENT FORM
PLEASE CIRCLE OR FILL IN BLANK
Do you understand the services provided by the District Nine Designation Reassignment Clinic? If no, skip to question six.
Yes.
Do you understand that bitching carried out in a controlled, medical environment is experimental with a success rate of approximately 70%?
Yes.
Do you understand that bitching is the biological transformation of an alpha into an omega by process of sexual and non-sexual submission?
Yes.
Do you understand that bitching will eventually induce a heat cycle, at which point your designation will officially be changed to Omega?
Yes.
Do you consent to being bitched within the District Nine Designation Reassignment Clinic under observation by a team of medical professionals?
Yes.
Write your partner(s) and their designations below.
Lee Minho, alpha. Seo Changbin, alpha. Hwang Hyunjin, alpha. Han Jisung, alpha. Lee Felix, alpha. Kim Seungmin, alpha. Yang Jeongin, alpha.
Have you been coerced, forced against your will, or paid to undergo the services provided at the District Nine Designation Reassignment Clinic?
No.
Medical history. Safety measures. Any specific limitations. Chan is glad a place like this exists for those who need it, but every question only serves to solidify that this is real. Like, really real. It’s fucking happening. He’s actually going to be an omega by the end of this.
If that’s not enough, Dr. Young goes over it verbally once he’s in the room upon the door being cracked, entering all of Chan’s answers into a computer as he goes, speaking in a gentle monotone. He’s quite tall, has probably been doing this twice as long as Chan has been alive, and has a refreshingly clean, mated alpha scent.
“Alright, Mr. Bang. Can you lay down on your back and put your feet in the stirrups for me?” The doctor asks. Chan’s knees are trembling, and the feeling of the doctor’s latex-covered fingers poking between his legs doesn’t exactly help.
“There seems to be plenty of space for the heat slit to come in at the perineum…” Dr. Young drones. While the touch is purely clinical, Chan is still sensitive from his rut and the doctor’s touch sends shockwaves of pleasure up his spine. He almost fails at resisting the urge to whine and rock against the prodding gloved fingers. Face heating in humiliation, Chan flops his arm over his face, eyes pressed into the crook of his elbow as Dr. Young completes the exam.
“Well, Mr. Bang.” Dr. Young takes his gloves off with a loud snap before discarding them. “I would say you’re an ideal candidate for the bitching process.”
Chan can’t help it. “Ideal?” He squeaks.
“Young, fit, healthy, and from what Felix has said about you, eager to please and naturally submissive.” Dr. Young smiles when Chan blushes, deep scarlet climbing up to his ears. It’s the first time Chan has seen any sort of expression on the man’s face.
“So, you have two options. One, we schedule your first session and send you home for the time being. Two, you stay for your first session today. Felix and another tech, Daewon, will prepare you, then escort you to your room before we call for your alphas.”
“Prepare me?” Chan parrots, feeling a bit dumb.
“We find that bitching is more successful if a client is properly stretched prior to a session,” Dr. Young explains, far too casually for such a subject in Chan’s opinion. He doesn’t even think he wants to be fucked on day one, and while Felix told him a coworker would help in this situation and everything is entirely clinical, the idea of being touched by someone who isn’t one of his alphas fills him with apprehension.
However, it’s completely overshadowed by the fierce need he has to help his pack. To please them. He not only has to be good—he wants to.
“You’re more than welcome to prepare yourself, if your mind has changed.”
“I’d like to stay,” Chan tells the doctor, sure and confident. There should be no tiptoeing around his consent here, which is very much given. “And have Felix do it. The, uh, prepping.”
“Of course,” Dr. Young’s gentle grin widens. “Daewon will just be here to monitor everything.”
The speed at which Felix gets to his room is comical. Especially since Chan can hear him practically running, quickening footsteps growing louder and louder with each passing second. Felix tries to play it off, though, clearing his throat and sliding over to the exam table to plant a kiss on Chan’s cheek. Another body follows him in, but Chan has difficulty acknowledging them, seeing as Felix is now whispering in his ear, voice harsh and deeper than Chan has ever heard.
“We can’t wait to make you our bitch.”
Without warning a cramp rips through Chan’s lower abdomen, causing him to nearly double over. It’s not particularly painful, but it catches Chan completely off guard. Felix’s sultry expression is gone in an instant, replaced by alarmed concern—his scent even reacts, turning the air around Chan sharp and salty.
“I’m okay,” Chan says before Felix can spend too much time worrying. “It was a tiny cramp. Just caught me off guard.”
“A cramp?” Felix isn’t assuaged. He looks back at the other person in the room—a stunningly handsome man with no discernible scent wearing a name tag that says Daewon. “Things haven’t even started yet and he’s already cramping. Is that possible?”
“Yep!” Daewon says, a little too cheerfully. “Especially based on his chart. Verbal submission can give clients pseudo-cramps. Basically, your brain can tell that something different is going on and it’s trying to prepare you as best as it can.”
Chan thinks ‘something different,’ is a bit of an understatement.
“Channie,” Felix says carefully. Chan meets his sparkling eyes and huge smile, one that shows off his very pointy teeth. Chan has been on the receiving end of those canines far too many times to count. “Would you like to be on your back or stomach while we do this?”
“Stomach,” Chan answers immediately, flipping himself over eagerly. He tries to focus on the fact that Felix is about to finger him rather than the presence of a stranger in the vicinity. It’s probably a good thing Daewon likely isn’t an alpha.
Felix’s fingers feel as tiny as they always do when he breaches Chan’s rim—like nothing, and Felix knows that, so Chan harrumphs indignantly at being denied more. It earns him a quick swat to the back of his thigh.
“Brat,” Felix teases.
Chan hears typing. Daewon must be doing something on the computer.
He ignores it, turning the best puppy eyes in his arsenal on Felix. “Lixie… please.”
Chan can see the exact moment Felix folds. Two more fingers are wordlessly added, and finally Chan feels real pleasure, biting back a moan. They’re not in one of the soundproof rooms yet, so he imagines just about anyone walking by will hear his noises.
Felix continues, saying nothing. Chan tries to fuck himself on the digits buried inside of him, but is stopped by Felix’s other hand squeezing one of his asscheeks in a bruising grip. Turning his head to glare at Felix, Chan sees that his mate is intensely concentrating, tongue poking out from between his lips. Something about both being ignored and having Felix’s rapt attention on him makes him shiver, cock filling out rapidly.
Suddenly, Daewon is there. Chan flinches hard. He hadn’t heard and seen the fucker even move.
“Oh, three already? You must get fucked a lot. For an alpha, anyway,” Daewon says with a note of amusement, like the three of them are all in on some kind of joke.
Chan’s only laughs awkwardly because…he kind of has a point. Felix, however, doesn’t take it as well.
“Get out,” Felix hisses. Daewon looks confused, caught unawares by his typically perky coworker’s change in attitude. “Did you hear me? I said get the fuck out!”
Chan almost has it in him to feel bad for Daewon as he scrambles out of the room, seemingly smart enough to understand that he’s now face to face with a much younger, very pissed off alpha. The moment the stranger is gone, Chan hides his face in Felix’s chest as he feels another wave of cramps, but not in his abdomen—in his groin. Chan knows it has everything to do with Felix’s blatant possessive display.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Channie hyung,” Felix apologizes. He sounds genuinely upset. “I…I just. I can’t stand that guy.”
Chan barks out a laugh, because Daewon must be truly heinous to be so disliked by Felix. Chan relaxes considerably now that it’s just the two of them. “It’s okay, sunshine. He wasn’t wrong, after all.”
Felix makes a disgusted sound. “Yeah, but he didn’t mean it in a good way. Only the pack is allowed to call you a whore.”
And because Chan is far from the only brat in their pack, Felix curls his fingers up and nails Chan’s prostate with scarily precise jabs before withdrawing. It succeeds in pulling a particularly loud moan out of Chan, one he thinks Felix might’ve intended for Daewon to hear.
Chan attempts to hide the tent in his gown as Felix leads him further into the back of the clinic, though he doesn’t really mind it. He misses his pack too damn much at this point for it to matter to him.
The observation room, the room where the actual bitching will take place, is about the size of their living room and kitchen combined. It has a big couch, a really big bed, an armoire Chan can only imagine the contents of, a decently sized television, and a mirror that Chan knows the observation team can see through. The color scheme is warm and inviting, earthy greens and browns and yellows that are meant to feel cozy and warm. Chan appreciates it, even though every step he takes now feels heavier than the last.
Felix caresses his cheek, sitting him on the couch before removing his gown. “Remember, you can stop this all at any time. What’s your safeword?”
“Berry. Stoplight system for check-ins.”
“Good boy.” Chan shudders. “Are you ready?”
“Um, Lix…”
“Go ahead, Chris.”
“Do…do they have to watch?” Chan asks, eyes glued just past Felix’s hip. Felix follows his line of sight until he’s looking at the two way mirror again. Of course they only see their reflections, but both know the observation team sits on the other side.
“Yes, Mr. Bang,” Dr. Young’s crackly voice comes from the intercom on the wall. He sounds bored. “Observation of the sessions is crucial to ensuring the safety of the client. If you would like, we can record them and—”
“No!” Chan blurts. The idea of all of this being filmed makes his heart pound. It also makes his cock twitch, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge that. “Um. No. This is okay.”
“Your pack has been called for. They’ll be with you soon.”
Chan’s shoulders drop and he sighs, looking back up at Felix.
Felix, whose expression is light and cheerful.
On the surface, that is.
Anyone who doesn’t know him like Chan does would think so—but no one knows Felix like Chan does. That open smile, wider than usual to show off dangerous teeth. Those huge pupils, blown so wide Chan can’t tell where brown ends and black begins. These are the only signs Chan needs to know Felix is already very turned on.
“Horny already?” He teases in a lilting voice, smirking. He expects Felix to reply with just as much, if not more, cheekiness. Instead, his expression twists even more. It’s almost dark, the way Felix scans his body.
“That’s no way to talk to your alpha,” Felix hisses, producing a collar and leash seemingly out of nowhere. Chan automatically tilts his head to the side to allow the younger alpha to put it on. “We’re going to be mean.”
“I know.”
“ Really mean.”
Chan swallows.
“I trust you. All of you.”
Felix stands to his full height, leash in hand, and the energy in the room shifts in the blink of an eye. Felix tugs on the leash fast and hard, its chain rattling as the collar digs into Chan’s throat with a harsh choking noise. His alpha roars. It doesn’t like this, hasn’t liked anything they’ve been doing lately, almost like it knows Chan is now in the process of trying to evict it. It’s completely instinctual that Chan leans back, resisting being pulled off the couch. Felix’s scorn is so powerful that Chan, for just a second, believes it to be real. Though he doesn’t feel a cramp, he does feel a…tightening, almost, that has his alpha wailing like a siren.
But Chan feels good pinned by Felix’s gaze. Loved, even. He doesn’t expect anyone, much less his internal alpha, to understand why. How better to declare his utter devotion to his pack through anything other than complete surrender? Surrender of not only his body, but his mind as well. Somehow, it’s enough for them. Chan is enough. And that is why he feels loved.
“Get. Up,” Felix sneers, curling his fingers underneath the collar and pulling with all his might. Chan almost goes flying into the table, but Felix’s well-hidden strength keeps him upright. Without waiting, Felix begins to walk Chan around the room, even bringing him directly alongside the two way mirror.
Chan isn’t sure what to make of his reflection; hard cock swinging, collared, leashed, with a wild head of curls and a heaving chest. Felix gestures to him for their audience like Chan is a show dog, then grabs a tiny brown nipple with his free hand and twists hard. Chan cries out at the onslaught, writhing into Felix’s side where he stands.
“Don’t I have the prettiest omega?”
Oh.
That word.
Similar to just about every aspect of this experience, Chan had been told about this prior to today. He was hesitant at first, but Felix explained early on that an alpha being referred to as an omega is a crucial part of bitching. When Chan did eventually agree to it he felt no pressure to do so. Not at all.
Still, an alpha pack leader being paraded in front of a group of strangers and referred to as an omega when his knot is quite visible is alarming.
“Beautiful,” a new voice says over the intercom. Chan recognizes it from phone calls they’ve shared in the last few days. She’s the session coordinator, an optional resource for them if they need guidance at any point. Her voice is husky and rich, almost with a hint of danger to it. “You must be very proud.”
Felix beams .
“We are.”
Chan stops in his tracks, blushing. Not because he’s naked and being shown off to people he met today while in such a vulnerable state, but because Felix has always had the power to make him weak in the knees. He decides to listen to his body and sinks to the floor, well aware of any social implications there might be for an alpha to kneel to another alpha. Besides, if Chan ever worried about that kind of thing he and his boys would have never made as far as they have.
He bows his head, practically purring when Felix grabs a handful of his hair and yanks him backwards.
“Smell that, baby?”
The pack. They’re close.
Felix releases him and gives him a sharp whistle, directing him to walk towards the couch. Chan moves to stand, but is stopped by a thick boot pressing against the curve of his shoulder.
“I didn’t say you could get up, whore.”
Which is how Chan finds himself crawling. It’s humiliating on a level he’s never felt before, so deep and burning it makes more cramps ripple through his abdomen. They’re nowhere near as painful as before but then again he expected them, this time. He freezes when he realizes either bitching is not nearly as hard to achieve as he thought, or he’s just…made for it. Meant to be an omega all along.
But he doesn’t have time to get lost in that existential deep dive. They’ve arrived at the couch, onto which Felix flops down and kicks his feet up onto Chan’s back, the unexpected weight making it arch.
Felix is using him like a footrest.
At the exact same moment the door creaks open more cramps steal Chan’s breath away. They’re dull, and…pleasurable. He doesn’t think they’re supposed to be pleasurable, are they?
He knows it’s his pack that’s just arrived. It’s Jeongin who stands above him and says, “You look good on your knees, omega.”
The pain in his abdomen is immediately forgotten.
Chan startles so hard that he almost sends Felix’s legs toppling off his back, but a sharp tug on his leash—not his leash… the leash—stops him from going too far. He settles for indignant growling instead, his instincts flaring in protest of not only being addressed like that, but being addressed like that by the pack’s youngest.
“I’m not an omega,” Chan spits. Though, on his hands and knees while being used as a piece of furniture, he doesn’t make a very good case for himself. “I’m still your pack leader, bitching or no bitching—”
Jeongin laughs. Laughs, plopping down on the couch next to Felix and pulling the freckled alpha into a deep kiss; one that deliberately goes on for several seconds too long. Between being talked down to and blatantly ignored, Chan feels monumentally disrespected. For it to be in front of their entire pack? Humiliated. He jerks, gasping for air when the leash is curled once, twice, three times around Felix’s tiny hand, causing the collar to put pressure on his airway and spot his vision.
Chan takes a moment to think about how he could easily turn his body in Felix’s direction to alleviate it, or even use one of the many cues they agreed on earlier to make this all stop right in its tracks.
He just…doesn’t want to.
While the alpha within him definitely does, Chan has become quite skilled at disregarding its opinion over the last few weeks. The dull ache in his abdomen and groin is becoming more constant, but it’s almost pleasant now. Chan knows it will get worse once everything starts to actually change—right now, his body is confused. Shifting, as it makes room for what’s to come. Those deeply hidden parts of him that every alpha has are being roused for the first time, and they’re apparently pretty light sleepers. The vast amount of paperwork he’s gone over recently told Chan it’s unlikely a client feels cramping at all during the first week.
Guess I'm just lucky.
But Chan doesn’t have time to think about that right now. He can’t. Not with the way hands begin to roam every inch of his body.
Felix removes his feet from Chan’s back and joins in. His nipples and ass are pinched, his cheeks are spread, his mouth and teeth are inspected as his tongue is pulled out between his lips. It’s when dry fingers begin to prod at his hole and cock that Chan snaps his head to the side, growling like he’s gone feral.
“Oh?”
Suddenly, Chan isn’t being touched at all. It makes his skin feel frigid as he looks back to glare at whoever—
Ah. Hyunjin. It’s Hyunjin who’s teasing him back there, looking a bit taken aback at the older alpha’s behavior. Chan immediately lowers his upper half entirely to the floor, whining in apology that falls on deaf ears.
Hyunjin is looking at him with a cocked brow, tilted head, and tiny smile. It says more than words ever could.
To an outside observer? It’s a cute expression, maybe with a little shock. To them? To the pack, who sees the way Hyunjin’s closed grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes? It’s nothing but trouble.
And while Hyunjin isn’t exactly the most dominant of the group, when asked to step to the plate he does so with the same immense skill and passion he has when approaching anything.
Chan rocks his hips in an attempt to entice Hyunjin to return to his prodding, pressing back against his torso until his hole meets the cotton fabric of the younger alpha’s t-shirt. It’s dry and scratchy, but the stimulation feels amazing, so much so that Chan starts to rut backwards in a somewhat pathetic attempt to achieve some kind of relief. He’s merely watched for a few moments, uncaring for how he must look as he squirms ass up like an omega in heat.
His movements are finally stopped when Hyunjin grabs Chan’s asscheeks in a bruising grip, pushing him forward and earning a round of laughter when he growls again. Someone pulls on his leash, forcing him back up onto his hands and knees—knees that ache where they’re pressed into the hard floor.
“Felix,” Hyunjin calls. “Is all the fun stuff in that dresser?”
Felix’s answer is nonverbal. Hyunjin hops up and skips across the room, whistling when he opens the doors of the armoire and finds what he’s looking for right away. Chan turns to see what’s about to be introduced into their little scene, but a pull to his leash stops him and the side of his face collides with a soft belly.
He doesn’t need to look up to know who it is, but he does anyway, shuddering when Changbin tuts at him. “Nuh-uh, Channie. You’ll ruin the surprise.”
Chan closes his eyes and relaxes. No one explicitly tells him to, but he does, because his alphas have a surprise for him. With just his hearing, Chan can tell Hyunjin stops by the couch and sets something next to it, before returning and throwing his leg over Chan’s back so he’s bracketed between the dancer’s long legs.
Chan is anticipating just about anything. More restraints? Probably, knowing Hyunjin. Maybe they’ll hogtie him. Oh, that would be fun…
What he is not anticipating is a muzzle. Soft leather covers the lower half of his face, two straps on either side of his nose leading up and over his head to connect at another strap at the nape of his neck. Hyunjin fastens it to the exact point it’s comfortable, but tight enough that Chan will never forget its presence. He works his jaw, testing his range of motion, and finds it extremely limited. He can barely whine or grunt, much less speak.
“Our cute little omega just keeps misbehaving,” Hyunjin mocks. “We’ll have to muzzle him for today, before he tries to use those pretty teeth on us.”
“Remember your nonverbals, Channie?” Changbin asks, tracing shapes against Chan’s side. Chan obediently demonstrates their pre-established signs and taps that he can use to safeword.
“Good boy. Good omega.”
Everyone stands, making Chan feel a lot smaller. A tug on his leash that loudly rattles the chain and Chan is once again crawling. Despite the aches in his legs, Chan has no desire to wear knee pads: the feeling is almost grounding as he’s led to the couch. No, not the couch, next to the couch, eye to eye with what Hyunjin had set over here only moments ago.
It’s almost like a saddle. A curved top sitting on a flat base, with a ridged column down the middle. In the middle of it all sits a flesh-colored vibrator, neither particularly small nor particularly large. Chan wouldn’t even know what he’s looking at if it wasn’t for Hyunjin’s interest in this type of thing.
It’s a sybian.
While they’ve never actually used one together, there has been more than one conversation about buying one—especially initiated by Hyunjin, who seems to take immense joy out of being both the one sitting on it and the one making someone else sit on it. Chan never thought this would be how the sybian is actually introduced to them, but he supposes he ought to start leaving assumptions at the front door.
Facing him, Hyunjin waits for Chan’s nod before helping him up to straddle the device and spreading his cheeks. Chan huffs as the rounded silicone head of the vibrator meets his rim. He wants to slam down onto it, but Hyunjin insists on taking it slow. It feels like ages before he’s properly sitting on the sybian, grunting out little ha-ha-ha’s as Hyunjin pulls away. With nothing to hold onto, he places his hands on the body of the sybian to brace himself as he starts grinding.
Someone grabs onto the straps of his muzzle and pulls his head up. Changbin. Chan looks up at him attentively, but doesn’t stop rocking against the toy inside of him, nor does Changbin stop him.
“We’re going to watch a few episodes of a new drama,” Changbin tells him, leaning down to pick up the sybian’s switchboard. “You can cum all you want, okay?”
Chan nods eagerly, ecstatic that he’s being allowed to cum even if he’s going to be ignored by his pack as they talk about random bullshit over a tv show. As much as he craves their touch at all times, he’s self-sufficient.
The first orgasm is pulled from him embarrassingly fast, before Hyunjin can even turn on the vibrations. It’s been building since the moment Minho scruffed him that morning, so Chan gives himself a break. It’s easier to do things like that here.
Orgasm number two takes its time, putting Chan to work until his quads are on fire. Little glances at his mates tell him that they’re actually pretty invested in whatever they’re watching, which only makes Chan more desperate for their attention. He decides to try and get it by putting himself to work and achieving a third orgasm—his personal record. Chan didn’t even think that was possible, at least not for an alpha. Not for him.
But the vibrations don’t stop, they speed up. It’s hard to tell the difference between pleasure and pain now, Chan sitting fully on the sybian and taking heaving breaths. Overstimulation is right around the corner, but somehow…
No. There’s no way he can cum a fourth time.
“C’mon, Channie,” Hyunjin whispers to him, reaching over the arm of the couch to intertwine their fingers. “One more. I know you can do it.”
His eyes shine. For his mates, he can do anything.
Even though Chan is sure the most he’s capable of at this point is a pitiful dry orgasm, lightning dances up his spine as the toy inside of him reaches its highest speed. It’s teeth rattling. All Chan can do is cry into the muzzle, the inside of which is growing uncomfortably wet with drool.
Holy shit. He’s close. He’s actually going to cum again, meanwhile the others have lost every ounce of interest they had in their show. Chan avoids their eyes now that they’re all on him but doesn’t stop, too far gone to care about how much of a mess he is.
He goes from leaning forward to arching backwards, his chest popping out when he braces himself against the rear of the sybian. His nails scratch along the machine’s body as he scrambles to stay balanced.
Hyunjin taking two greedy handfuls of his chest and groping him like a pervert sends him over the edge for the fourth time. The rush causes Chan’s hips to buck, inadvertently driving the toy as deep as it can go. Small beads dribble pathetically from his spent cock, running down his length as it bobs with his frantic riding. Even more cum is added to the thick white mess coating both Chan’s abdomen and the front of the sybian.
“You smell so good,” Hyunjin says between his teeth, much closer than he was a moment ago, but never letting go of Chan’s hand.
“Can we cum on you, Channie? All of us? Can we?” Jeongin is practically begging, but he doesn’t need to be. Chan would do anything to have their scents all over him, especially like this—collective alpha arousal so potent it would bring Chan to his knees if he wasn’t already there.
Chan nods furiously, wishing he could beg right back. Let his tongue loll out of his mouth so he can show them just how ready he is to taste them. He suddenly decides he needs the muzzle off now and reaches up to claw at the straps with a frustrated snarl. Hands are immediately behind his head undoing the buckles. Spit wets the lower half of his face, but he makes no move to wipe it away.
“Yes,” he gasps, thighs quaking. “Mark me.”
A second later he’s surrounded by his alphas, their precum-soaked cocks in hand as they furiously jerk off above him. He blinks at them owlishly, mouth slightly agape. It’s amazing, seeing all of them together like this again. Chan almost feels deserving of their attention. He loves them. He loves them so fucking much—
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Chan closes his eyes, keeping himself steady as ropes of cum begin to decorate his face. While most of it is aimed for his lips, Chan feels their claim on his cheeks, over his eyelids, in his hair. He sticks out his tongue to lick up what he can reach, looking up at his mates with hooded eyes.
“Good boy,” someone says. Chan doesn’t know who.
He feels…hazy. It’s not exactly a drop, but it’s something close, making Chan’s mind feel empty and putting him completely at ease. It would be scary how quickly it comes over him if it didn’t feel so fucking good. He’s floating. Nothing is wrong. No need for him to worry about anything, ever. His alphas will take care of him. His alphas will tell him what to do. His alphas will take the lead this time.
He smiles, wide and sleepy. His eyes and shoulders droop. Holding himself up feels a lot harder suddenly, and just like Minho did earlier that morning he catches Chan before he can hit the ground.
Their pack leader’s eyes are glassy, almost wistful. He looks worn out, but happy as he curls into Minho’s legs with a pleased rumble.
Minho cringes at the feeling of spit against his skin, but can’t find it in himself to deny Chan his comfort. Not when he’s like this. Chan goes without complaint when Minho eases him to stand and leads him to the couch, his hold never faltering. Seungmin comes over with a fluffy towel, placing it under his head and using the ends of it to wipe Chan’s face clean. Chan nuzzles against the warm cotton, unconsciously kicking a happy scent into the air—the rich, sugary peaches his pack knows, but sweeter.
Sweeter than it's ever been.
Minho is the first to notice the vacant look in Chan’s eyes, and maybe that’s because he spends so much of his spare time looking at their pack alpha when said pack alpha isn’t paying attention. He has to, as Chan’s second. Over the years he’s mastered the art of protecting Chan from afar in order to let him maintain the whole big-strong-leader complex he has, but something tells Minho now isn’t the time for that.
“What’s wrong with him?” Minho demands. Really, he says it like he says anything else, but his pack recognizes the edge in his tone.
“Nothing,” Felix says quickly, darting to Chan’s other side and scratching him under the chin. “He’s just doing even better than we expected.”
“The bitching haze,” Dr. Young answers through the intercom. “It’s rare to see it start so early but not unheard of in particularly submissive alphas. Your Chan must be something special.”
“Hm,” Chan hums, twisting more towards Minho with a hopeful expression. “‘M special?”
Minho throws his head back and laughs, relieved that Chan isn’t too lost in his own head to be completely unaware. He leans down to lightly connect his forehead to Chan’s. “Of course you are. Our omega. Our Channie. We love you. You’re beautiful, in every way imaginable.”
“Okay,” Chan says, surprising them all a little. No deflection or self-deprecating joke, just easy acceptance of how much he’s adored. “Can we go home? Please?”
Home.
They follow Chan’s line of sight, frowning to see he’s focused on the two way mirror hiding their audience whilst bringing his legs up in an attempt to cover himself.
Minho moves before his brain can actually communicate with his body, pressing Chan into the couch to block him from sight. The others catch on, fortifying the barrier between them and the observation team.
“Don’t worry, we won’t enter your territory.” Dr Young sounds slightly amused. “Not without permission, of course.”
They all huff. Not the right way to say it.
Just the thought of a stranger, of another alpha, entering the room right now fills them all with a sense of possessiveness they’ve never felt before—and it’s then that they collectively realize perhaps Chan’s bitching is going to change them too. It was different during the session, when the observation team stayed silent and Chan wasn’t so emotionally vulnerable. All they know is Chan wants to be home and home is not here.
“You’re free to leave when you’re ready. No need to clean anything.” The session coordinator is back on the intercom, sounding a bit more diplomatic than the doctor. “You can use the showers before you go or just head on home. Same time tomorrow?”
Felix is saying something. He probably cares about being cordial to his coworkers, but Minho certainly doesn’t and crosses the room to get Chan’s clothes without a word.
They all do something to help dress Chan. Hyunjin gets him in his shirt while Seungmin carefully eases him into the legs of his shorts with a hand on his delicate ankles. Jeongin slips on his socks before Changbin and Jisung put on and tie one shoe each. He’s like a doll, pretty and pliant as they move him back and forth while Felix signs them out.
Getting Chan home is easy enough, though he does protest when Changbin releases him to get out of the car. It’s quickly remedied by Changbin offering his arms again once they’re standing. Chan wraps his arms around Changbin’s neck and lifts his knees, signaling that he wants to be carried inside. Changbin happily complies, scenting a giggly Chan as everyone makes their way up the steps of the front porch and into their home. Changbin is attempting to deposit a very clingy Chan on the couch when Minho appears by their side with a gift wrapped in black paper and topped with a bow. Minho offers it to Chan, who whimpers sadly when it occurs to him he’ll have to let go of Changbin to accept his present.
“Ah, big baby…” Minho chuckles, light and airy. Changbin spins them around and sits down with a very smug looking Chan in his lap. Minho pulls on one of the bow’s ends roughly before tossing the lid of the back over his shoulder. Chan cackles while Seungmin scolds Minho but refuses to go pick up the lid. Normally, Chan would be very entertained by Minho and Seungmin’s bickering, but the content of the now-open box distracts him.
Sitting so enticingly in a little sea of black tissue paper is a collar. It’s simple: a black leather choker with a buckle and two silver chains connected to an o-ring. But there’s one big difference between this one and the one at the clinic.
This is obviously a mating collar given to omegas. Collars are something of a status symbol or a badge of honor amongst omegas—one that says I’m spoken for, and loudly . To have an omega willing to wear a collar, especially in public, is a source of great pride for alphas as well, who typically are given more subtle jewelry from their mates. They all have pieces from each other already, mostly matching bracelets and rings with a few necklaces thrown in. Never had any of them been given a collar, nor would any of them had thought of such a thing before now.
Chan is so overwhelmed by the gesture he can only stare at the collar with watery eyes. It’s like being asked to become their mate all over again, such clear intentions Chan would have to be willfully ignorant to not understand the depth of meaning here.
“You don’t have to accept it,” Minho says softly, smelling sour even with his impeccable scent control. The thought of not accepting it makes the gooey-warm-mushy feeling in Chan’s head disappear. However, he’s too tired to rush into a panic to try to reassure Minho, so he reaches forward to run a finger along the inside of the collar. It’s soft, so it won’t irritate his sensitive skin.
“Can I…put it on? Now?” Chan asks. Everyone sighs and regards each other with relieved smiles.
“Shower first, okay? You can go with Binnie,”—the alpha in question cheers at that—“while the rest of us get started on dinner and pick out your clothes. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight, baby.”
Chan was already well on his way there, but the reassurance that he’s allowed to blankets him in another layer of peace. He receives plenty of kisses before he’s carried to the shower, where Changbin helps him stand on wobbling knees while he frees him from the remaining leftovers of their first session.
Changbin, not being one to ignore temptations, doesn’t hesitate to follow his heart when it tells him to start playing with Chan’s perky little nipples. It pulls the cutest little sounds out of him, so Changbin can’t be blamed when his touches gradually become rougher. He turns Chan so they’re standing chest to chest, wrapping his arms around his pack leader’s waist to steady them both. Changbin smirks as their wet, soapy tits press together, Chan’s nipples looking even smaller next to Changbin’s much larger, softer ones.
“Ooh,” Changbin sing-songs, herding Chan into the corner of the shower without disconnecting their chests. While both Chan and Changbin are very aware of the younger alpha’s status as the shortest in the pack, Chan feels so incredibly tiny right now. He blushes at Changbin’s smug expression, ducking his head in embarrassment. Changbin grabs him by the chin and wrenches his head back, leaning forward so his pouty lips are as close to touching Chan’s as they can possibly be without actually making contact.
“Maybe once this is all said and done, your tits will finally be bigger than mine,” Changbin teases, obscenely licking across Chan’s mouth. “I can’t wait to taste your milk, omega.”
Fire burns through Chan’s groin more fiercely than any cramp he’s felt yet. It burns, and Chan can think of no other explanation than being literally torn in half from the crotch up.
So…he screams. Very loudly.
It has the unfortunate effect of scaring the absolute shit out of Changbin, who releases Chan, thinking he’s somehow caused whatever is happening. The scream, followed by the distressed at no longer being touched, sets off scent alarm bells for the others to try to force their way into the bathroom simultaneously.
The shower curtain is ripped back and there stands Minho, wearing a dirty brown apron that smells like steamed vegetables. Hyunjin and Jisung are on the floor, tangled up in each other while the younger members of the pack are peering in from the hallway with frowns on their faces. Chan wants to reassure them that he’s alright, but he honestly doesn’t really know if he is. He’s never felt pain like this before.
“What was that?” Minho asks, out of breath. Changbin shrugs, looking reasonably panicked, but gathers Chan back into his arms when he makes grabby hands for him.
“I…I don’t know,” Chan manages to say, holding onto Changbin with a white knuckle grip. “Something hurts pretty bad.”
“What hurts, Chan?” When Chan doesn’t immediately answer, Minho scrambles to turn off the water and asks again, this time much more firmly.
“Um.” Chan clears his throat, embarrassed. He then points between his legs. “Here.”
All eyes are instantly on Felix, who takes a moment to realize that he’s now the center of attention. “It’s the cramping. It gets pretty intense when the heat slit starts coming in. But there’s no way it’s already developing…”
Felix doesn’t sound too convinced, and apparently for good reason. Because when they get Chan out of the shower and bend him over the end of a bed with his legs open, they see it. A little hole nestled beneath Chan’s balls, both of which are already noticeably smaller. They’re all so captivated by it they don’t make a sound, overwhelmed by the fact that Chan is changing so quickly. They knew this was a possibility, but everything they knew, were taught, or discovered through research about bitching told them that this would be a long process, not that their pack alpha would start growing a pussy after one day.
They all know what this means. Chan included.
There’s no going back now.
Chan’s alphas dress him in a soft pair of sweatpants and a massive hoodie straight from the dryer. He’s lost the majority of his appetite, but gets a few spoonfuls of soup down thanks to Changbin. The cramping is more or less constant now, but the intensity lessens thanks to the little white pill Felix gives him. Chan finds himself able to zone out once again, not catching much of what’s going on around him until he’s wrapped in a blanket and put in Minho’s lap on the couch. The discomfort in his groin increases when he feels Minho’s soft cock against his ass and he wiggles in place, sliding down with a low whine.
“It hurts,” Chan hisses, pulling his knees to his chest. “It hurts , Alpha..!”
Minho surges forward, shimmying Chan’s sweatpants down with not a shred of amusement on his face. Chan sounds like he’s in real pain, and Minho just can’t stand it. His only hyung writhes in his lap, slumping over his thighs after a few moments and taking languid breaths. The cramp must’ve passed then, but Minho still wants to take a look. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find when he blindly reaches in between Chan’s legs. He just hopes it isn’t blood.
Minho’s jaw clenches when he pulls back and sees his fingers are wet. But it’s not with a bright crimson. It’s translucent, almost slimy, and smells like everything that makes Chan’s scent Chan’s.
It’s slick. It’s his head alpha’s slick.
Minho leans over to take a closer look at Chan’s backside. The heat slit already looks different than it did just a couple hours earlier. The skin has parted, with the barest hint of tiny pink lips poking out. Lips that shine with the very slick covering Minho’s hand.
Truth be told, Minho finds it fascinating—finds Chan fascinating.
He can’t help but to sink a finger past those pink lips, relishing the way Chan practically screeches at the unfamiliar sensation. Minho is only slightly disappointed when his finger doesn’t make it very far, but mostly he’s just so damn proud of Chan.
“You’re perfect,” he tells his head alpha, gently stimulating the mound of flesh while Chan moans wantonly.
“N-No, ‘m not…” Chan shakes his head, tears springing to his eyes at the new sensation. It’s completely different than his asshole being touched, so fucking sensitive Chan can’t even think. “I…I…”
Minho shushes him, moving the finger still halfway inside Chan as slowly as possible. He is actually trying to make sure his pack leader isn’t hurt, though having a lap full of a hypersensitive, weepy Chan is definitely an added bonus. He pulls away when he’s satisfied Chan is okay, deciding that it’s probably best to leave the area alone.
They’ll have plenty of opportunities to play with it in the future, after all.
Minho changes the subject. “Want to put on your collar, baby?”
Chan lights up, showing the room his blinding smile and crescent moon eyes while happily wiggling in place.
It’s entirely silent when the collar is brought back out, the only sound in the house being that of dreamy lo-fi music playing softly from the television. Minho holds the box out to Chan. While he loves the idea of being the one to put the collar on Chan, he knows his stubbornly independent pack leader will probably want to put it on himself.
When Chan doesn’t reach for it, Minho’s anxiety spikes.
“You don’t have to wear it in public, Chan-ah. Or at all, ever—”
Chan places his hand over Minho’s, silencing his packmate’s tangent before it can begin.
“I want you to put it on.” Chan bats his eyelashes. “Please, Alpha?”
Minho does, with trembling hands and red ears.
Chapter 3
Summary:
aahhh thank u guys so much for ur lovely comments!! every single one always makes me smile ^_^
this chapter is my absolute favorite~ cw for heavy feminization
Chapter Text
No one can deny the excitement they share as they approach District Nine on the second day. Chan feels phenomenal, despite the cramping that’s made a home in his lower abdomen and between his legs. The medication the doctors prescribed eases the pain to a dull ache, a constant reminder of the changes his body has so easily taken to.
He’s unable to open the door to the clinic for everyone like he normally would, as there’d been a mighty battle that morning about who was going to hold Chan’s hand on the way there. Seungmin and Jeongin beat the others to it, sneaking over to Chan to take a hand each while their older packmates bickered in the background.
“Good morning boys,” Rin greets them. She looks tired today, but her sugar cookie scent is still warm and inviting. “Oh, what a lovely collar!”
Chan buries his face into the back of Seungmin’s shoulder in an attempt to hide his intense bashfulness. It’s in vain, though, as the way Chan rocks back and forth on his heels while barely muffling his uncontrollable giggling could give him away from space.
While the pack waits for Dr. Young to appear, they settle on a long bench against the wall. Changbin swiftly steals Chan from the maknaes, pulling him into his lap and wrapping his arms around his waist in an iron grip. Seungmin and Jeongin pout so aggressively Chan insists on still holding their hands while they sit.
“So, Chan.” Felix reaches over to rub Chan’s knee. “What do you want to do for today’s session?”
Chan freezes.
“Today’s session…?” Chan echoes, trailing off into a barely-audible whisper. He hadn’t thought about it, and now he’s being stared at as everyone eagerly awaits his answer, but he doesn’t have an answer because he thought the weight of making decisions had been lifted from his shoulders. He thought his alphas were going to take care of it. He thought his alphas were going to take care of him —
“Breathe, Channie. Breathe!”
Chan doesn't realize he’d started holding his breath, gasping for air as Felix appears in his periphery with a guilty expression. “Chris, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Chan says sheepishly, keeping his eyes on his knees. “Okay.”
“Well…I personally miss this right here,” Changbin says, using the pad of his thumb to tug at Chan’s bottom lip and turning his head towards them. “Miss fucking your mouth and cumming down your throat.”
“Ah, Changbin…that’s a good idea,” Jeongin says, causing Changbin to beam. “Think you can swallow us all down, hm? If we can’t fuck your pussy yet, we can just knot you here.”
“He has been running his mouth a lot lately,” Minho adds, casually turning to the next page of the magazine he’s flipping through. “It would be a good way to shut him up.”
“Guys,” Chan whines, shifting in Changbin’s arms. “Not yet.”
Their opportunity to torture him comes sooner than later, with Felix impatiently rushing through his prep—though Chan can’t really say he had no part in it, as he goads Felix into what started as actual prep and became an enthusiastic fingerfucking. But Felix is a lot more cunning than others give him credit for, mercilessly massaging Chan’s prostate up until the exact moment he would’ve cum. It leaves Chan desperate, following Felix’s direction from then on like a puppy learning a new trick, eager to please its master as they walk to the same room they used yesterday.
“Good morning—”
Chan flinches into Felix’s side at Dr. Young’s voice crackling over the intercom. He’d almost forgotten about their audience, somehow…
Changbin seems to be taking the lead for this session when the pack arrives, skipping over the dresser right away and procuring that damn leash. He hooks it onto Chan’s collar and lets the chain go slack.
“Kneel,” Changbin says darkly, so unlike his usual tone that Chan drops to his knees without hesitation. The gown has already been removed and tossed aside courtesy of Felix.
“How should we start with you?” Changbin muses, grasping Chan’s face with one hand and slotting the curve between his thumb and index finger under his chin, turning Chan’s head to examine him intently—purposefully avoiding meeting Chan’s watery eyes. Changbin’s analytic gaze makes him feel like both an insect pinned behind a glass panel and a precious stone in a jeweler’s hand.
“Eenie meanie miney moe? Rock paper scissors? Draw straws?” Jisung rattles off, getting a laugh from Seungmin.
“You’re excited,” Changbin says fondly.
“Well, yeah,” Jisung hooks his chin over Changbin’s shoulder, giving Chan a pout from above. “Look at that mouth. We should be using it every fucking day.”
Changbin hums in agreement, silently continuing his clinical appraisal of Chan’s features. Then, without warning, he pounces, nipping at Chan’s protruding lips before letting him go and following it with a violent kiss. Their teeth connect hard, sending a vicious clacking sound echoing throughout Chan’s skull, making it ring. Changbin gives him no chance to recover, stealing breath after breath directly from Chan’s mouth, satisfied when he pulls back to see Chan’s lips looking extra pillowy and red from the onslaught.
Jisung turns to Changbin with a pair of lethal puppy eyes, and the entire room knows whatever it is he wants, he’s going to get.
“Can I go first, Binnie? Please?”
“Of course baby,” Changbin says cutely. “Let’s make sure our omega is ready, hm?”
Changbin reaches for Chan once again, this time bringing two fingers up and feeling a sense of pride when Chan immediately takes them into his mouth, swirling his slobbering tongue around the digits like they’re a cock. His movements are sloppy, but enthusiastic enough to seemingly stop Changbin dead in his tracks and fill Chan with mirth. He purrs in anticipation at the mere thought of being able to tease them now—a testament to how safe he feels at his pack’s mercy. Chan masterfully takes Changbin’s fingers even deeper, lashes fluttering helplessly against the intrusion. Chan, not for the first time in his life, thanks his virtually nonexistent gag reflex.
To finish it off, Chan looks up at Changbin through glassy, hooded eyes and allows a few thin trails of drool to slip out at the corners of his mouth. Spit runs down either side of his face and Chan coughs, prompting Changbin to remove his fingers. It’s here where Chan starts being able to see through Changbin’s armor. The younger alpha’s lips are slightly parted, blush high on his cheeks. Chan doesn’t mind it, though. These genuine glimpses of Changbin are a delight.
As enticing as it is to continue debauching himself so pathetically by sucking on fingers alone, Chan knows it’s only a minuscule part of what they have in store for him.
The respite is brief. Chan lets out a startled sound when Changbin presses down, forcing Chan’s tongue to sit trapped against the roof of his mouth and curling his fingers to pull at his jaw. Chan’s mouth is forced wide open, and he’s surprised to see Jisung already has his pants off, because how the hell did he manage that without Chan noticing? He’s not that far gone yet, is he?
Like this, caged and pinned by not only Changbin and Jisung’s bodies but their downward, lustful gazes, Chan finds himself slipping fully into a submissive headspace the moment he hears, “Good boy.”
He feels calm. Safe.
Jisung hooks his thumb over the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulls it down to sit just under his balls, finally freeing his half-hard cock.
Pushing the head of his cock past Chan’s lips and against his teeth, Jisung gives a single command.
“Suck.”
Chan opens up once more, just barely wide enough to accept the salty tip. He flattens his tongue on the underside, gulping in order to spurn himself to hollow his cheeks and start truly suckling on Jisung’s blunt cockhead as if it were a nipple being primed to provide Chan with sweet, life-sustaining milk. It’s easy for Chan to get lost in the repetitive action for a few moments. He knows what he must look like, staring blankly into nothingness while he slurps on the end of a cock like it’s a straw. Jisung lets him, encouraging Chan ever deeper into the headspace that only bitching can provide.
Things don’t really start until Chan nods. Jisung is very eager, almost immediately fucking into Chan’s mouth with the same enuthusiasm and passion he has when approaching anything. He grabs onto Chan’s ears like they’re handlebars, like Chan is some thing to use, only existing to get someone off. He can’t even do anything fancy with his tongue—the stuff that usually sends his mates over the edge and keeps them at his mercy. The tables have turned, making Chan feel like nothing more than a toy.
He hardly feels the cramps any more.
Suddenly, his mouth is empty, and just as suddenly it’s full again with only a tug on his hair pulling him onto another cock—Seungmin’s, specifically. It’s long, tickling the back of his throat like no one else’s will be able to. It makes Chan think of their ruts weeks ago, and the fight that led them here of all places. It feels like it happened so long ago, in another life.
“Where are you in that head of yours, Chan-ah?” Minho asks, bending down into Chan’s line of sight while Seungmin maintains his steady thrusting. He’s not as frantic as Jisung, but he forces Chan’s nose to his neatly-trimmed pubes and holds him there until Chan is the frantic one, tapping wildly at Seungmin’s thigh to signal that he needs to take a breath. Chan is pulled off Seungmin’s cock harshly, taking only a few shuddering breaths before Hyunjin takes advantage of his mouth being wide open.
It’s completely overwhelming, and Chan loves it.
He loves it more than he can properly describe and that drives him crazy because words have never failed him before. Every sense is filled with pack. They’re all he can see, all he can hear, all he can taste. Chan has no idea what exists beyond the forest of legs surrounding him, but he knows he doesn’t have to worry about it. Not when his alphas are here. He has a job to do, and he’s doing it well.
“Channie hyung.” Jeongin settles the heel of his hand under Chan’s jaw and presses his hand against the length of the older alpha’s throat, palming his own shaft through the skin of Chan’s pretty neck. “I can feel you here, Channie hyung. Can you feel me?”
Chan’s mouth is obviously occupied, so he can only nod up at Jeongin in response. His nostrils flare when Jeongin tightens his grip, straining from Chan’s increased efforts to breathe. The two alphas are suddenly locked in a battle of wills, unwavering eye contact going on strong until Chan begins to cough around the cock suffocating him.
Though Jeongin rips Chan away and off his cock, he keeps ahold of him so he doesn’t immediately go tumbling to the floor until Chan is able to balance himself. Lines of saliva hang between Chan’s mouth and Jeongin’s cock, breaking when Jeongin reaches for Chan and hooks his thumbs into the corners of his lips. The sound Chan makes as Jeongin spreads his mouth open is garbled and obscene, nothing more than a miserable, wet grunt as Jeongin reinserts the tip of his cock and cums all over Chan’s lolling tongue with a shout.
Jeongin releases him, but Chan focuses on swallowing everything down. He can’t even show them how good he’s being by sticking out a clean tongue before another—Hyunjin—is grabbing him. One hand in his hair, the other under his jaw, and Chan is once again slobbering over a cock.
They continue using his throat like a fleshlight, until Chan has lost count of how much cum he’s swallowed down. His belly feels heavy, but he’s not done yet.
Changbin is the last. Chan wonders if that’s purposeful, since Changbin is the largest of all of them by far. Regardless of how many times Chan feels it inside of him, he’s always taken by surprise at its sheer girth.
Changbin, so gentle and so caring, knows that it can hurt. Even with every green light in the world given to him to destroy their throats, he’s always careful. Chan knows he’s going to ask, and for that reason Chan wants nothing more than to service him.
Chan nods, giving his silent permission for Changbin to force his cock deeper into Chan’s throat. It’s slow, initially, with Changbin not pausing until Chan releases his first choke. Chan focuses on breathing through his nose as he relaxes, allowing another inch or so to disappear past his shiny red mouth. He can feel the thin skin at the ends of his lips being stretched to their limits, threatening to rip apart. Tears of pleasure, of exertion, of overstimulation, are finally forced from his eyes, and after that they don’t stop coming. To an outside observer their fast pace may look completely wild. Uncontrolled. But it’s exactly what Chan wants—what he needs. Changbin’s gentleness is seen in both how he meets Chan in the middle and assumes most of the decision-making so Chan doesn’t have to. It’s fast and dirty and gives Chan’s mind no chance to flood itself with too many thoughts other than pack, pack, pack.
Chan knows he should wait, but he’s feeling impatient. The silence is becoming too loud again—so he opens his jaw wider and presses his nose against the curly dark hair dusting Changbin’s pelvis, the saliva forced to collect at the back of his throat bursting out of his mouth with a violent cough, huge globs of spit running down his face to form little puddles on the rug below.
Chan’s eyes go wide when Changbin’s dick twitches, but he’s determined to do what they came here for. He almost can’t, gagging around the cock in his mouth as a burst of cum hits the back of his throat like a bullet.
“Easy, easy…” Changbin soothes, petting Chan’s hair. Chan takes controlled breaths through his nose, eventually relaxing enough to swallow his alpha’s seed. “Attaboy.”
Changbin takes his cock out of Chan’s mouth, holding him up by the shoulders as he takes huge, heaving breaths.
Changbin gives him a few moments before he says, “Show me.”
Chan does, sticking out his tongue and opening his mouth wide for Changbin to examine. Chan has swallowed every single drop of him, filling Changbin with a sense of alpha pride.
“Perfect omega,” Changbin says to himself. “Only five more.”
Chan licks his lips.
Chan takes tiny sips of a pineapple juice box held up for him by Changbin the entire way home, humming contentedly at the feeling of Felix’s fingers untangling his damp curls. He’s not as out of it as he was yesterday, but he thinks he might also just be getting used to the foggy feeling in his head.
It’s surprisingly nice, being treated like some delicate thing. To be touched and cuddled and hugged and doted on without asking. Chan has never really allowed himself to be taken care of like this, and when he has it was a never ending battle between his discomfort at the center of attention and his overwhelming desire to be cared for. It’s almost like second nature now, to let Hyunjin zip up his hoodie when he shivers, or give Seungmin a grateful smile when he reveals he brought snacks just for Chan.
He thinks about whether or not he would’ve allowed himself to be subjected to such soft treatment without the bitching.
His alpha hasn’t made a peep since the beginning of the first session, but Chan can tell it’s still there. If he thinks too hard about his current predicament, his skin starts to itch. Something akin to existential dread creeps towards him and the thought that, ‘ No, I shouldn't be doing this, I’m an alpha, I’m their pack leader,’ is close to follow. Bitching is entirely different from any past submissive preferences he may or may not have had. This is permanent. Chan will be completely changed forever if he’s able to go into heat–something that Dr. Young is fairly confident is inevitable.
Possibly within the next few sessions, he’d said.
“Do you want me to carry you into the house again, princess?”
Oh. They’re already home— wait.
Princess.
Chan’s groin pulses. He nods vigorously, nosing at the crook of Changbin’s neck all the way inside and refusing to let himself be deposited on the couch. Changbin certainly doesn’t mind, though, pivoting so he can sit down with Chan across his lap.
Stubbornly, Chan stays put, whining petulantly when the others try to tease him into pulling away from his hiding spot.
“We got you a present, baby.”
Chan slowly untucks himself from the curve of Changbin’s side.
“A present?” He echoes. “Again?”
Seungmin mumbles an affirmative. “You deserve to be spoiled.”
Oh, he loves presents. Despite usually insisting that the giver didn’t have to do such a thing for him, deep down being thought of in such a way will always make him feel special. With his inhibitions slightly lowered, Chan grants his mates the privilege of seeing the way his doe eyes shine when Minho emerges with another gift, this one wrapped in colorful paper. Chan shakes his fists happily when the gift is set in his lap, giggling as he runs his fingertips along the perfectly folded corners. Hyunjin must’ve wrapped it, then.
“For me?” Chan whispers. Met with nods, he proceeds, using the utmost gentleness to untie the bow, pop the taped edges, open the package, and peel back the glittery tissue paper to uncover…
A blouse? Chan tilts his head curiously. Floral baby blue, while certainly pretty, isn’t exactly his style. He finds he doesn’t mind when he feels how soft the fabric is and decides he very much would like to try it on. Picking the shirt up by the slightly puffed shoulders, Chan unravels the article of clothing and—oh.
It’s not a blouse. It’s a dress . With ruffles.
An offensively short one at that.
“It’s pretty,” Chan says, and he means it. But. “…for me?”
“Absolutely.” Felix slides up next to him, cupping one of his pecs and massaging it. “Only the prettiest of clothes for our pretty, pretty wife.”
Chan shivers, his aching pussy clenching with another cramp. Now that the slit has opened, the pain feels like nothing in comparison to what happened in the shower yesterday. A gush of fluid fills his boxers and he spreads his legs at the foreign feeling, his thighs captured by Changbin and Felix. They coo at him, but the sound is filled with nothing but mischief for Chan’s plight as they zero in on the wet spot forming between their leader’s legs.
“Already leaking slick, whore?” Felix whispers in his ear, their mother tongue sounding dark and utterly filthy. Felix’s hand moves from his chest to his groin, skipping right over the outline of Chan's cock to lightly draw shapes over his new cunt. The barely-there sensation has Chan arching his back, desperately seeking more friction. Felix chuckles and pulls away, bringing Chan’s attention back to the dress.
“I’ll go change.”
Chan goes to the nearest bedroom, head much clearer. He can’t stop the squeaky laugh that erupts out of him when he hears the boys attempting to quietly tiptoe down the hallway so they can stand outside of the door. Their combined scents are sweet, woodsy. It’s their pack scent, unique only to them, and Chan wants nothing more than to roll around in it.
Looking at the dress with a smile, he takes it out of the box once more and excitedly shucks his clothes off. Pulling the garment over his head, Chan shimmies into it and twirls in the mirror.
Chan doesn’t know whether he should be mortified or incredibly turned on by the fact that the dress barely covers the swell of his ass, his black boxer briefs very visible.
Chan returns to the box the dress had been given to him in, opening to the tissue paper in search of panties. It definitely wouldn’t be the first time one of them has worn them, but it would be a first for Chan, who has secretly always wanted to feel that smooth silk against his cock.
When his search comes up with nothing, he shrugs and slips out of his boxers with a smirk. They must’ve forgotten to put the panties in the box.
Well, Chan is anything but shy about his body around his mates. They usually tease him when he walks around the house naked, so Chan can think of no better way to tease them back than to walk out in this slutty dress with his ass basically hanging out.
But when he does, he’s not met the reaction he’s expecting. His mates look hungry, and Chan is suddenly feeling quite shy. He reaches behind himself to tug the skirt of the dress down, gasping when it only serves to make the front of the dress ruck up and expose his cock. He quickly presses it down with his arms between his legs, chuckling nervously when his mates giggle.
“Uh,” Chan starts, clearing his throat. “Is there any underwear?”
The giggles turn into uproarious laughter. Chan’s face burns.
Hyunjin comes up to him, gently knocking his arms out of place and causing the dress to fluff back up.
“You don’t need something like that, baby,” he says, standing as close as possible without actually touching Chan. “We wouldn’t want to cover up that brand new pussy, now would we?”
There it is again. That word. The one that Chan has been trying to ignore, but sends an involuntary shiver up his spine every time. Embarrassment and arousal are becoming two things he seems to feel simultaneously now. He wishes there were a proper word for it…
“Answer him, Chan-ah.”
He hadn’t even noticed Seungmin move to his other side. His body thrums at being caged by his two tallest mates, but he can’t meet either of their lustful gazes, eyes darting back and forth.
“No…”
“Good boy. Now—” A quick swat to Chan’s ass has him yelping. “Go get me a beer.”
Chan is almost disappointed when he finds out the others have ordered takeaway rather than making him cook.
That is, until Felix throws an apron over his head.
“Don’t pout, baby,” he says as he starts to tie the ribbons, pulling them tight, until Chan gasps. Oddly enough, the pressure around his waist grounds him. “You still get to bake cookies for your alphas.”
Which is how Chan finds himself in the kitchen, wearing the most non-functional apron of all time. It’s shorter than the dress and frilly, clearly not actually meant for practical use. He will say the way Felix tied it is rather cute—a large bow, sitting in the small of his back. He feels…good.
Well, honestly, he’d rather be sitting in someone’s lap right now. He listens as his mates cheer at their game in the living room, whining at being left all alone in the kitchen.
Maybe he can sit in someone’s lap as a reward once he finishes baking?
Clapping his hands in excitement, Chan quickly gets to work pulling the ingredients he needs out of the cabinets. He doesn’t need to look at a recipe, he and Felix have been making cookies together for years. He knows his batch won’t be as good—Felix has some kind of magic touch—but he hopes they’ll be good enough for his alphas.
Chan goes to the stove to get out the cookie sheet in the drawer underneath. He’s remarkably comfortable in his current headspace, so he doesn’t even think about what could happen when he bends over.
A pair of massive hands latch onto his hips, squeezing with enough force that Chan can’t stand back up. Thumbs that are very familiar with his lower back slot into the dimples that live there.
He doesn’t need to do so to know it’s Jeongin who’s descended upon him, the youngest alpha now walking him towards the granite countertop and making him bend over it.
“Tch,” Jeongin clicks his tongue. “Look at this.”
Chan is about to say, ‘Look at what?’
But fingers against his slit kill the words as they form in his mouth, anything discernible he might’ve said turning into a slurred whine.
“Don’t pretend like you aren’t doing it on purpose, omega. ” Jeongin sinks a single into the damp heat, smiling devilishly when the little hole produces barely enough slick to ease the glide. “Flashing all of us with your cute new pussy.”
“N-No,” Chan stammers, heart jumping into his throat when a finger breeches him. Chan’s earlier suspicions that his heat is growing deeper are confirmed when Jeongin sinks his digit in completely, to his third knuckle. “I was just getting–”
“Don’t lie to me, bitch.”
Chan couldn’t hide his incredibly pleased reaction to those words even if he wanted to. The steady trickle of slick becomes a gush, wetting the insides of his thighs just as Jeongin pulls away.
“No, no…” Chan whines, desperate for stimulation. He tries to reach down to provide it himself, but is stopped by a hand encircling both of his wrists.
“Ssh, baby, I’ve got you,” Jeongin says soothingly, pulling a hiccuping Chan to his chest and walking him to the nearest bedroom.
Chan isn’t sure what to expect, something that typically would give him considerable anxiety. This time, he only feels excited as Jeongin shoves him onto the bed with a wicked smile.
“Knees to chest, Channie,” Jeongin instructs. Chan readily obeys, placing his hands behind his knees and pulling his legs back. The position gives every exposed part of Chan to Jeongin on a silver platter.
“Awww,” Jeongin coos, “your balls look so cute and tiny now, hyung.”
Embarrassment shoots through Chan like nothing he’s ever felt before, but a glob of slick betrays just how fucking hot he actually finds it. Jeongin’s incredibly smug face tells Chan it definitely wasn’t missed by the younger alpha. Chan wants to put his legs down, cover himself up, but he knows that will only make whatever punishment Jeongin has in store for him much worse.
In reality, Chan did nothing wrong and they both know that—but to pretend that maybe he was bending over in the hopes that someone would see, that someone would come by and pay attention to his aching pussy, is fun. Jeongin loves punishing not only Chan, but all of them, getting off on the control he’s able to exert over his precious hyungs. However, Chan is his favorite target—and he’s been eagerly awaiting to see what Jeongin would do with him when given the chance.
“You lied to me, baby. You lied to Alpha,” Jeongin says, voice dripping with fake sorrow. He casually runs his fingers over Chan’s sex, pretending to think hard about what to do with Chan even though they both know he knew before he even approached Chan. In a way, this is part of his punishment, as the anticipation keeps him on edge and the position he has himself in makes his thighs burn the longer he holds it.
Jeongin suddenly gets what must be a grand idea, leaning over Chan to whisper in his ear.
“Stoplights?” He asks softly.
“Yes,” Chan practically hisses, desperate. He adds on a quiet please for the sake of his ass. Jeongin kisses his cheek, likely the last show of gentleness Chan will receive for a bit.
Jeongin settles back between Chan’s legs. The switch flips, and Jeongin’s wicked smile returns as he pulls his fingers back and lightly swats Chan’s cunt several times in succession. To Chan’s embarrassment, it only serves to produce more slick and make Jeongin scoff.
“This slutty fucking pussy…” Jeongin says under his breath. Chan doesn’t know if it’s meant to be heard, or if Jeongin even cares as he delivers a few more slaps, this time with enough force behind them to make Chan yelp.
“Twenty slaps to this slutty fucking pussy,” Jeongin says, making sure he’s heard this time as he intersects each word with another strike, “Say it.”
“Tw-Twenty slaps…” Chan gulps, trembling. He never thought this level of humiliation could be so fucking hot. “…to my…slutty fucking pussy…”
Slap.
“Count them,” Jeongin demands. “And what do you say when your alpha does something for you, bitch?”
“One!” Chan cries, desperate for more of the red hot sting between his legs. “Thank you, Alpha!”
“No cumming before we’re done or we start over, got it?”
Chan whines incoherently.
“Good job, babygirl.”
Slap.
“Two. Thank you, Alpha.”
Slap.
“Three. Thank you, Alpha.”
Slap.
“F-Four! Thank you Alpha-a-a-a—five! Fuck! Thank you, Alpha!”
God. As the slaps rain down one after another, Chan doesn’t know how he’s supposed to survive this without cumming. He can already feel an orgasm building, but instead of feeling his balls tighten this sensation is…inside. Of him. It’s heavy, sitting as far down in his abdomen as anything can possibly be. Something about it feels off, but Chan chalks it up to the whole having a new body part thing. A body part that can cum, so Chan imagines it might feel a little different this way. It feels familiar enough that Chan isn’t panicking.
“Nineteen! Thank you, Alpha!”
Not yet, anyway.
Not until Jeongin forgoes the last spank entirely and shoves two digits into his pussy, curling his fingertips and digging them into the wet heat. Chan cums immediately, screeching as he plants his arms on the bed and arches his back so high he almost flips over.
But it’s not the only thing that happens.
Clear liquid explodes from his pussy, soaking the front Jeongin’s shirt. Chan is ready to beg, to apologize for not only cumming too soon but getting his…juices all over his mate without any kind of warning.
Yet, when Chan looks at Jeongin, there’s nothing but pure awe on the young alpha’s face. It’s cute, almost gives away the whole mean dom persona Jeongin is so good at.
“Channie, you just fucking squirted.”
Oh.
Oh.
“…oh.”
“That was amazing. You’re amazing. The others are going to be so jealous, fuck.”
Jeongin is a good mate, so he has the decency to help Chan dry himself off before sending him back into the kitchen with an echoing slap to his ass and a glass of ice water. The others have started a game of Mario Party, very loudly demanding details when Jeongin returns to the couch looking extremely pleased with himself.
“Thanks for letting me have him to myself, hyungs,” Jeongin says, like he took Chan on a leisurely stroll instead of making him fucking squirt. Squirt like—
An omega.
Chan shakes his head. Things are happening so much faster than he ever could’ve imagined, and he doesn’t want to get lost in his thoughts about it now. He has cookies to make, after all.
Chan gladly loses his thoughts in preparing the cookie dough and listening to his boys play their game, though. The motions are relaxing, and before he knows it he’s putting the cookie trays in the oven and setting the timer.
He’s cleaning the counters when hands latch onto his hips.
Jisung.
Well, at least the cookies are in the oven this time. He allows Jisung’s hands to roam across his body.
“Just the tip, Chan-ah,” Jisung whispers in his ear. If anyone in the living room hears, they show no sign of it. Chan thinks they might be pretending not to, but judging by the reaction as Minho gets another star they’re actually paying more attention to Mario Party. Jisung uses the uproar to cover the sound of the loud, obnoxious sniffing he does across Chan’s neck. “Please, please, please —”
“Baby,” Chan huffs, chuckling a bit at Jisung’s chubby cheeks and pleading eyes. “Of course you can. It makes sense. You’re my first alpha. It’s your right, huh, baby?”
Jisung nods wildly, holding his breath. “Yeah. Yeah. Of course.”
Chan turns around, moving his feet shoulder-width apart and leaning over the counter. The back of his dress slides up his hips, giving Jisung the perfect view of his pink pussy. It’s still puffy and wet from being slapped by Jeongin earlier, slick leaking directly from the source when Chan knocks his knees together. Looking over his shoulder at Jisung is the younger alpha’s undoing, and Chan feels a thick cockhead press against his cunt only seconds later. His moan is louder than expected, silenced by Jisung hurriedly putting a hand over his mouth and another shout from the rest of the pack.
Chan is now wondering if he can keep playing their little game, because the feeling of a cock inside of his heat slit is nothing he could’ve ever possibly imagined. It’s like his body knows that this is different, that this isn’t just fingers toying with him, and it accepts more of Jisung’s cock than either of them are expecting. It’s a completely foreign feeling, pleasure like Chan has never felt before, so he doesn’t think it’s his fault that he screams Jisung’s name.
Of course, the others hear. Chan wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors did too—or the delivery man, who happens to ring the doorbell a second later.
Jisung stands Chan up, who cries out at the feeling of the cock inside of him shifting. The dress is barely long enough to cover what they’re doing, but no one seems to care as Minho answers the door. He even strikes up some friendly small talk, all for the purpose of driving Chan mad. It works, and Chan is clenching around Jisung’s cock with all of his might up until the very moment the front door is once again closed. Jisung takes the opportunity to pull out with a cry, settling his cock between Chan’s asscheeks.
“Fuck, hyung,” Jisung groans. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“Hey, careful,” Felix warns softly, placing his hands on Jisung’s hips. “It can’t take too much quite yet.”
“Oh…” Jisung looks genuinely saddened, like he’s somehow hurt Chan. “I—”
“You felt so good, Sungie.” Chan maybe puts a bit too much wantonness in his voice, but the way Jisung perks up at the reassurance is more than worth it. Chan smiles so brightly that Jisung feels his worries start to fade.
“Let me help, baby,” Felix whispers in Jisung’s ear before reaching around his torso to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, skillfully stroking and grinning wickedly as Jisung begins to whine. It doesn’t take long at all for Jisung to cum, and to Chan’s delight he feels it land against his aching pussy. It’s followed by a fresh gush of slick that fills the room with the smell of candied peaches.
“You animals,” Hyunjin bemoans dramatically, “Don't worry, Channie. I’ll pamper you like you deserve.”
Jisung puts himself back in his pants with a scoff, whispering in Chan’s ear loud enough for everyone to hear. “Chan. This is just an excuse from him to get his grubby little twink hands all over you. Don’t listen.”
“Who’s the twink?!” Hyunjin blanches.
Chan stands upright with a breathy laugh, as always endlessly amused by his boys and their antics. He can’t believe they almost lost it all thanks to petty arguments and grievances.
Chan pretends to think about it for a moment. “Hm…pampering sounds nice.”
Hyunjin sticks out his tongue at Jisung with an obnoxious noise as he begins walking Chan towards the bedrooms, and is wordlessly followed by Minho. The soon-to-be oldest alpha of the pack sweeps his arm around Chan’s broad shoulders and begins to lead him into a bedroom, saying nothing when Hyunjin joins them anyway.
Chan goes to flop on the bed, but is stopped by Hyunjin, who turns him around and bends him over the end of it instead.
“Sungie came all over your little pussy, Channie.” Hyunjin coos. “It looks so cute. Can I take a picture?”
Chan’s legs try to shut, but are held open by multiple hands. All he can do is kick his feet petulantly. “Y-You can’t just say that!”
Hyunjin sticks out his lip and pouts, “It’s true though.”
“He’s right, Chan.” Minho fluffs up the bottom of Chan’s dress, looking a lot like a cat kneading at something. “Especially with all these ruffles.”
Hyunjin fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Here, lay down. Cross your legs. Hold the skirt up—yes, yes!”
Hyunjin takes entirely too many pictures in Chan’s opinion, but he goes a step further by leaning over Chan to show him and—
Yeah. Even Chan has to admit it looks good. Smooth, pale thighs, holes on display shining with slick, and strings of cum decorating it all. Framed by the pretty ruffles of his dress, Chan can scarcely believe it’s a picture of him to begin with.
“I-It’s good,” Chan stammers. Suddenly, he’s completely exhausted.
“Lino hyung…I’m sleepy,” Chan says with an exaggerated yawn, rubbing at his eyes with a fist for good measure.
It works like a charm, Minho successfully shoo-ing Hyunjin away to get face masks so he can clean Chan up with a warm rag. Something stirs within Chan as the soft cotton of the washcloth lingers around his cunt, but he’s far too tired to do anything about it. By the time Minho is putting fuzzy socks on his feet and Hyunjin is returning with skincare products and nail polish, Chan is positive he could fall asleep sitting up. Still, he allows Hyunjin to drape the cool sheet mask over his face while Minho feeds him bits of chicken.
“Yummy~” Chan sing-songs as he gives Hyunjin his hand.
“Such pretty hands.” Hyunjin kisses along his knuckles. “So delicate, but also so strong.”
Chan’s eyes become misty at the unexpected sentiment, to which Hyunjin tsks. “Yah, Channie hyung. You’re such a sap.”
“You’re the one who said it!” Chan whines, earning a chorus of fond laughter. He relaxes while Minho feeds him and Hyunjin paints his nails, sighing happily when the face mask is removed and Minho starts massaging his temples.
“Use the fast-dry topcoat,” Chan insists once Hyunjin announces he’s done. “I want to cuddle in bed with everyone.”
Minho snorts. “You can’t cuddle everyone at once, hyung.”
That doesn’t deter Chan at all—if anything, it spurns him on even more.
“Watch me.”
And for the first time in months they form a true pack pile, limbs tangled together with only each other to stay warm.
Chan sleeps through the night.
Chapter Text
Chan has one goal in mind when he walks into District Nine for the third time, and that is to walk out as a thoroughly-fucked omega.
The others have been discussing it, ecstatic that Chan has made so much progress so quickly, but they think it will still take another couple sessions at the very least.
Well, Chan can obviously do better than that.
He keeps his head down and speaks only when spoken to, rubbing against his alphas without a care in the world who sees. He needs their scents on him just as much as he needs his scent on them. These are his alphas. His. He’s always been protective of his pack, always looking out for them, always willing to sacrifice everything for them. He’d do anything for his pack, and this entire experience is proof of that. But he knows he can be even better. He knows he can.
“Are you okay, Channie?” Felix asks, up to two fingers without hearing so much as a whimper from Chan. “You’ve been really quiet.”
“Yes,” Chan answers truthfully. Well, it’s mostly truthful. In reality, he feels hot, and has since last night. He’s not stupid, he knows what it could mean…but he also doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. The weather has been hotter this week, after all. He probably shouldn’t get his hopes up, right? Just because he wants to do better doesn’t mean he actually will. Regardless, the first half of his goal doesn’t change. “Wanna get fucked.”
Felix huffs at his bluntness but recovers quickly and resumes preparing Chan’s hole. Chan feels a pinky nudge at his pussy, making him shudder hard enough to shake the exam table.
“You want it here? You want to get fucked in your pussy already? Was Jisung’s little cockhead not enough?” Felix muses.
“Not enough,” Chan moans, barely holding back a sob. His skin is on fire and Felix’s touch seems to only fan the flames. His next words tumbles from his lips in husky, accented English. “Knot my cunt, please.”
“Holy hell, Chris,” Felix murmurs. “I’m sorry, baby. We can’t. Not yet. It’s dangerous to do it before your first official heat.”
“Oh…okay, Alpha.” Chan sniffles, hoping he doesn’t sound too disappointed.
Besides, if he gets his way that first official heat will be sooner than later.
“Soon,” Felix adds, further encouraging Chan’s thoughts. “It will be soon, I just know it. Then your alphas will knot your pussy every day, keep you nice and loose for us. Always ready to be used. How does that sound?”
That sounds fucking incredible, actually. Chan blinks dreamily as he gets lost in his fantasy, one where he has seven knots at his beck and call. “Okay, Alpha.”
Felix melts. “Ah, Channie, you’re too cute! I know exactly what we’ll do today.” Felix cracks open the door and stops someone who walks past. “Is the bench room open today?”
“Yep.”
“Awesome! Move the fucking machine in there too.”
Bench room? Fucking machine?
Call it intuition, but Chan has a feeling this will be his last morning as an alpha.
Chan isn’t sure what Felix meant by bench room until the moment he walks in and is confronted with something he’s only seen in pornos or read about in various eroticas—a breeding bench. It’s a large contraption, with thick wooden legs and a black, padded seat that Chan assumes he’ll be laying on. The cuffs dangling from two tall beams at the end of the bench don’t escape his attention, either. In fact, he can’t look away from them.
“You can be either face up or face down, which—”
“On my back,” Chan interrupts, smiling sheepishly at Felix’s raised eyebrows and amused smile. “I want to see everyone.”
The sentiment does wonders, making Felix rumble like happy alphas do. “We want to see you too. You’re so pretty when you take all of us. The pack will be so excited–hop up.” Felix pats the bench, eyes crinkling as Chan promptly follows the direction. He helps Chan lay down and is unable to resist giving the older alpha’s neglected cock a few strokes, relishing in the way he fucks up into his hand. The touch is fleeting, though, with Felix moving to raise Chan’s legs and spreading them as wide as they’ll go before securing his ankles in the cuffs.
“Comfy?” He asks.
“Yes, Alpha.”
“The straps aren’t too tight, are they?”
“No, Alpha.” It’s true. Chan’s thighs tingle a little, but he’s comfortably able to relax his lower half without feeling like he’s going to slip out of the restraints. The bench is also surprisingly accommodating, thick leather pads under a plush cotton fitted sheet. Chan doesn’t need to be told to lay his arms across the arm boards so Felix can put on the wrist cuffs.
“Good.” Felix steps too far away for Chan’s liking. He’s about to make his discontent known when Felix reappears between his legs, clicking his tongue in mock exasperation. “Ah, that cute little pussy of yours is just too tempting. We’ll have to plug it up.”
Felix isn’t even finished with his sentence before something freezing cold is pressed against Chan’s folds and a lubed, silicone toy forces its way in. He keens at finally getting some stimulation there, but Felix doesn’t even tease him with it; he just leaves the plug inside Chan’s sopping wet cunt and steps back to admire his work.
A low whistle.
“Ah, is it Christmas today?”
Jeongin.
Oh. His mates are here.
He didn't even hear the door open, something that might concern him in any other situation, but he supposes it can’t be helped. He’s been feeling somewhat spacey since he woke up to Changbin’s nose buried in his pussy and already on the cusp of orgasm. He bears down on the plug with a moan at the memory, but the muscles there are too weak to do much.
“It should be!”
“A bitch ready to be bred? Just for us?”
Chan can’t fucking take it any more. Whoever’s decided to take the reins for today possesses a patience that rival’s Chan’s own. Minho? “Touch me, touch me, please!”
“Ssh, we’ve got you baby.” Minho. “We’ve got you.”
Finally, fucking finally, Chan is being touched once again. Hot palms dance across his skin, each with its own unique ridges and bumps that Chan could recognize with his eyes closed. He does exactly that, lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks as he tracks his boys’ movements. Minho and Jisung pinch his thighs, giggling as he reflexively jerks away from one only to end up an easier target for the other. Hyunjin goes for his nipples, twisting and pulling mercilessly. Felix runs a finger up and down the ridges of his abs. Jeongin is fixated on the curve of his neck while Seungmin goes for the real gold, spreading Chan’s cheeks and spitting into his hole. Seungmin watches as the wetness disappears amongst the river of slick Chan is producing.
It’s too much. It’s not enough. Chan needs more. “I-It hurts, Alphas. It hurts…”
Chan makes an unhappy noise somewhere between a sigh and a whine when his skin is left cold, devoid of touch. Genuine fear in his voice, Minho asks, “What hurts?”
Chan takes a shaky breath and whispers, “My pussy…”
Minho’s shoulders drop, and hands instantly return to roam Chan’s body. “We’ll take care of your pretty pussy as soon as we can, okay, love?”
“This hole wants our cocks just as much, Channie, see?” Seungmin coos, prodding at his asshole. “It’s winking at us.”
“Cute~”
“So, who’s first?”
“Me.”
All heads turn to one person.
Minho.
He leaves not even a hint of room for a challenge, and the pack bows to their soon-to-be head alpha. But while head alpha Minho may become, Chan is still their pack leader, and Minho takes no action without his approval first.
Yet Chan can tell there’s more on Minho’s mind. His pursed lips and ramrod straight posture would be dead giveaways, but all Chan has to do is be in the same room as his second to know when something is bothering him. As much as Chan enjoys riling Minho up with his mischief, he knows now isn’t the time for it.
Minho needs reassurance. He needs validation. He needs—
“Please, Alpha.”
Chan’s wait ends at the tip of Minho’s cock. It slides into his body like it belongs, like it never left, despite Chan not being able to remember the last time it was actually there.
“I missed this.” Minho sheathes his cock within Chan’s fight heat in one smooth motion, turning to kiss the inside of Chan’s suspended knee. “I missed you, Chan.”
Chan’s eyes mist over. He knows he tends to be one of the more emotional members of his pack, but it suddenly hits him here, strapped to a breeding bench and giving himself over entirely to them. His family.
“Love you,” Chan says in a rushed breath, like if he doesn’t get the words out now they’ll never be heard. “Love you. Love you so much. Please, please…I…”
Minho’s rhythm is flawlessly maintained as he grabs Chan’s waist in a bruising grip. “What do you want, Channie? I’ll give you anything. Anything.”
“Your knot. Please. I need it, I need it.” Chan has never been above begging, both in and out of bed. Usually he’s teasing, looking to get under someone’s skin, but now—Chan would get on his knees and bow at Minho’s feet if that’s what it took. Minho responds in turn, fucking into Chan faster and faster, chasing his high and punching sweet, fucked-out sounds from the man beneath him.
Minho finds himself staring at Chan—eyes rolled back, mouth agape, red high on his cheeks—and is once again fascinated by him as he always has been. Specifically, his reactions to the world around him. His eyes shine when they come home from work, but also when Minho reaches down to drive two of his fingers into his pussy. He shivers when he isn’t wearing one of his ridiculously oversized hoodies, but also when Minho curls those fingers up.
Chan is sensitive. Clingy. Mischievous. Charming. Kind. Loyal. Passionate. Beautiful.
The overwhelming softness Minho feels for his only hyung coexists with the strength in his which he fucks him, thick thighs flexing as he puts all of his power into letting Chan know just how fiercely he’s loved. As Minho’s knot begins to form, for a moment it’s just the two of them in the room. Chan didn’t think it was possible to make love while strapped to a breeding bench and being bitched, but leave it to Minho to figure out how.
Chan suddenly wishes his wrists weren’t tied down, so they could hold hands as Minho’s speed increases considerably. The bench creaks, but holds strong against Minho’s deep thrusts.
Rather than angling himself to pop his knot past Chan’s rim, Minho curls his arms around Chan’s thighs and pulls him onto it, simultaneously filling Chan with thick ropes of cum. Spurt after spurt coats Chan’s insides, but it’s to be expected. Minho has always cum a lot, something he used to be highly embarrassed by despite his mates finding it hot. It’s too uncontrolled. Too messy. But Minho’s mind isn’t on that right now. It’s entirely focused on the way Chan clenches around him over and over, milking his cock for everything it has.
The room is still and silent, with only Chan and Minho’s heavy panting to be heard. That is, until Jisung cries out—“Fuck, that was so hot!”
Chan doesn’t open his eyes when he feels a straw poke at his lips, just wordlessly allows it to sit on his tongue while he takes small sips of ice cold water.
“Good omega.” Hyunjin pats his cheek, carefully taking the water away and replacing it with what smells like a strawberry. Chan does open his eyes this time, looking at the fruit Hyunjin holds out to him curiously.
“Eat,” Hyunjn says gently, smiling when Chan accepts the snack. The last strawberry is particularly large, bursting from the fruit the moment Chan bites it. Hyunjin’s eyes follow the little bead of juice as it trails down Chan’s jaw, chasing it with his thumb and letting Chan lick it from his skin. But Chan takes it a step further, taking Hyunjin’s thumb into his mouth and suckling.
Hyunjin freezes. It’s impossible to tell if Chan knows what he’s doing in moments like this. He has to, right—?
“Hyunjin,” Minho calls, startling the younger alpha out of his staring contest with Chan’s lips. “You’re next.”
Where Minho fucked Chan nice and deep, Hyunjin is immediately jackrabbiting into him, fucking him so hard and fast that even though Chan isn’t able to form a single word, he can’t shut up, especially when he finally cums and Hyunjin simply fucks him through the sensitivity.
“Hyu—ah! Uh-uh- uh…!”
It’s incredibly embarrassing, but that’s exactly what Hyunjin likes about it. By the time Hyunjin is locking them together, Chan is so drenched in his own cum and slick that if he didn’t know any better he’d say he pissed himself. His skin blazes at the thought—from utter humiliation or something else, he has no idea.
More water. More fruit. Hyunjin picks Changbin to go next. It feels like a fucking soda can is entering him when Changbin presses inside, his short, fat cock stretching Chan like nothing ever has or ever will. Changbin’s knot stretches him even more, and when he pulls out Chan’s hole is desperate for something else to fill it.
The passage of time moves lower and lower down on Chan’s list of priorities with each cock he takes. He feels floaty, eyes seemingly stuck where they’ve rolled back in his head. Still he can tell exactly who’s fucking him just by the shape of their cocks, how they fit into his body and how deeply they can reach.
Chan sighs. He thinks he could become addicted to something like this, if he isn’t careful.
He doesn’t think he’d mind if he did.
It’s Jeongin who grabs a handful of Chan’s curls and yanks his head up, making him look down at not only the pack member currently knotting him (Seungmin) but the mess of cum and slick literally dripping from him and onto the floor. “You’re still making such a mess, Channie. Seven knots isn’t enough for you, whore?”
Chan flinches. Has…Has he already taken seven? How could he possibly have already taken them all when he still needs— “More more more more more—”
“Minho?”
Minho grumbles when he tugs at his half-hard cock and it continues to take its time. Outside of ruts, alphas are known to have lengthy refractory periods, much to everyone’s chagrin. “I still need a few minutes.”
Felix perks up at that. “Perfect!”
“Oh, that’s my favorite Felix expression,” Jeongin says between amused chuffs. “It’s like an evil kitty.”
Jisung agrees with a toothy grin. “So cute, so dangerous~”
Felix practically skips out of view, prancing somewhere past Chan’s head to wheel a cart with a large object on it into Chan’s line of sight. Someone simultaneously offers him more water from his other side, and although he drinks it Chan’s eyes don’t leave what’s on the cart. They can’t.
“I brought a friend with me. This is going to keep you nice and full for us until we’re ready. What do you say?”
Chan can only think of one thing. “Thank you.” Because he’s now face-to-face with the fucking machine Felix had specifically requested earlier. Somewhere in the back of his mind Chan wondered when it would come into play, so to see it isn’t entirely unexpected.
What is unexpected is the sheer size of the dildo attached to it, something bigger than Chan—bigger than any of them —have ever taken. For a fleeting moment Chan panics, because there’s no way it could possibly fit, but the thought quickly fades away when Felix lines it up to Chan’s hole and turns it on to the lowest setting, a gentle, slow rock. It only takes a moment for Chan to become accustomed to the size, after which he relaxes once again.
Toys will never compare to being fucked by a real cock, but what the dildo lacks in that it more than makes up for with its generous girth. Chan merely lays there and takes it, trying in vain to shimmy down the bench and allow the dildo to get even deeper. To Chan’s surprise, right above his pubic bone is a bulge that appears in perfect time with the machine’s thrusts.
It isn’t long before the dildo starts moving much faster.
Chan is reacting now, unable to stop himself from arching his back and gasping. “S-So big…haaa—ah!”
“How does it feel, Omega? Good?” Minho’s tone hasn’t lost that teasing lilt, and even through his foggy mind Chan picks up on the fact that Minho is asking him that for real.
How does he feel?
For a few moments, the only sound in the room is the whirring of the fucking machine as it pounds into him, practically splitting him in half. It feels robotic and clinical, to use a machine to keep him open, but the pleasure Chan is experiencing is anything but.
“Good,” Chan mumbles.
Minho, who heard him loud and clear, cranks the machine up to a much higher setting. “What was that?”
Chan’s hands flex in their restraints, nails scratching along the ends of the armboards. Every thrust feels as if the tip of the machine’s silicone cock is in his throat, and his response comes out as a barely-intelligible, garbled cry.
“Guh—Good!”
Satisfied, Minho walks up to place a kiss on Chan’s forehead. A shocking moment of gentleness amidst such intensity that has Chan’s heart fluttering.
He doesn’t get long with the fucking machine before Minho is hard once again. It’s pulled out of Chan with an agonizing slowness, leaving him panting like he just ran a marathon. He can’t imagine what he looks like; his abused hole gaping and frantically attempting to clench around something that isn’t there, covered in cum and slick, leaking from the seven loads that have been pumped into him.
Minho’s cock slides in with wet pop, bringing Chan a remarkable sense of calm. He didn’t know he could feel so at ease after hours of being fucked, but he guesses there’s a first time for everything. He purrs happily as he kicks his feet and curls his toes.
“Have you ever seen someone so happy to get dick?” Jisung sighs in exaggerated awe, looking at Chan proudly while he eagerly attempts to work himself back to hardness.
“Yes,” Seungmin snorts, simultaneously pressing the pad of his thumb into the head of a squirming Changbin’s cock. “You.”
Jisung bats his eyelashes. “Guilty.”
A particularly loud sound from Minho has them all swiveling their heads. They watch with wide eyes and slack jaws as Minho’s upper lip curls, revealing his front teeth. “Hyung, you’re so loose and sloppy…”
Chan cums instantly. Minho doesn’t stop, lazily fucking Chan until he finishes himself.
Hyunjin and Changbin reluctantly let Jisung go ahead of them, as their refractory periods are the longest in the pack and Jisung’s the shortest. Jisung fucks Chan as excitedly as he did the first time, and there’s not much Chan can do other than lay there and happily take it.
“Mmm, Alpha…” Jisung slows his pace at Chan’s mewl, gently stroking his thumb across the ridges of his abdomen. The alpha’s touch is a cool balm against the heat under his skin, but the fire only rages until Chan is actually uncomfortable. Something is wrong.
“Alphas are here, baby,” Jisung soothes. His voice dips low in that way people never expect from him, so husky and warm. Chan finds immense comfort in it, but still the uneasy feeling within him grows. It’s almost nauseating, and things go from not enough to too much in seconds. Chan tries to pull his legs together, but is stopped by the straps around his ankles.
“Ugh,” Chan groans in frustration. “Alphas. Don’ feel good.”
Everything screeches to a halt as Chan writhes on the bench, Jisung pulling out and restraints being undone. Chan is the kind of person that revels in close contact when he’s overwhelmed, and now is no different. He’s helped into a sitting position and pulled against a soft chest. Much to Chan’s confusion, the pack’s voices sound far away despite their scents becoming shockingly intense.
“Hey, what’s happening?”
Chan would like to know himself.
“A nurse will be there in a moment,” says a disembodied voice. Chan would be more wary of it if he wasn’t so focused on how he’s now sweating like he’s been at the gym with Changbin. All of him feels like it’s on fire now, but his pussy aches more than anything. He needs something inside of it now, completely ignoring the beta nurse who enters the room and his pack’s resounding growls in favor of fingering himself where he’s still perched on the bench.
“I just want to take a look at Chan and make sure he’s okay. I promise I won’t hurt him, honey,” the nurse says, keeping a respectful distance until the alphas allow her to approach Chan. She starts by placing the back of her hand on Chan’s forehead, wincing at the temperature. “How do you feel, Chan?”
“Um.” Chan removes his fingers from himself, feeling much less embarrassed about it than he probably should. Having nothing inside of him feels like torture, but he resists the urge to rectify that and lets the nurse examine him. Without pleasure to focus on, all he can think about is how…exposed he feels. Not because of his nudity, or even their audience. Distress rolls off of him in waves at not being able to understand his own body. “Uncomfortable? It’s hard to describe. Like I need to bury myself in my alphas’ scents.”
The nurse’s face brightens. “That’s your nesting instinct, sweetie.”
“Nesting instinct?”
Chan isn’t the one to question it. He isn’t sure his voice would even work right now, because—
Nesting instinct. Something only omegas in heat have.
“Can you lay back on the bench and spread your legs for me? I want to do a pelvic exam to see if the bitching has fully taken. If you’re uncomfortable with that, we can do a blood test instead.”
Chan happily lays himself out, beaming at his alphas and their gobsmacked expressions. The nurse puts on a pair of sterile gloves, maintaining the utmost professionalism even as Chan involuntarily grinds down on her finger when it enters him. She apparently finds what she’s looking for quickly, withdrawing her hand and smirking at the way Chan whines.
“You are officially in preheat, Mr. Bang,” she announces, smart enough to step away from Chan before doing so. “Congratulations on your new omega status.”
It’s almost anticlimactic. While his pack is definitely shocked at how fast this happened, Chan is vindicated and his doubts from before disappear in the blink of an eye.
Of course he’s in preheat. He was made for this. Made to please his pack in whatever way they need. He’d told himself that he was going to walk out of District Nine an omega, and he meant it. He’s not surprised, but is remarkably pleased with both himself and his pack. So pleased, in fact, he can no longer stop himself from reinserting his fingers in his pussy. They go noticeably deeper than before, and even as a blanket is suddenly thrown over his body his focus is entirely on getting himself off.
“We need to leave,” Changbin growls. He’d been the one to get the blanket, and now stands in front of Chan, using his wide frame to block him from the view of strangers. “He’s not safe here.”
“I can assure you he is,” Dr. Young says, though it doesn’t bring the alphas much comfort. “Get him home. Help him nest. Take care of him. We’ll be in touch next week to see how things are going.”
Now that sounds like a plan.
Chan’s prediction from that morning ends up being wrong. He doesn’t walk out of District Nine an omega.
He’s carried.
Chapter 5
Notes:
and we’re at the end…just a short and sweet little glimpse into the pack’s future—huh? what’s that?? oh snap it’s the mpreg express. CHOO CHOO.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Hey, you shouldn’t be lifting that—”
Chan rolls his eyes fondly, letting Changbin take the light, medium-sized cardboard box from him and set it on the table in the dining room of their new home. He’s learned by now to simply allow his alphas to indulge their protective instincts, thanking Changbin before smoothing out the front of his flowing plaid dress. Chan fiddles with a fraying thread and notices the seam is coming a bit loose. It makes sense, he wears this dress a lot nowadays. He mentally makes a note to tell Jeongin later so he can fix it.
“Well, someone didn’t bring the coasters and placemats in here.” A lazy smirk on his face, Chan leans into Changbin with a hand over his slowly swelling belly. “I’m not completely useless yet, you know.”
“Oh, Channie hyung…I didn’t mean—” Changbin tilts his head when Chan leans forward, exposing the slope of his neck for his pack omega to scent.
“I’m just teasing, big guy,” Chan whispers, placing a kiss on Changbin’s cheek before settling back. “You were just showing off your muscles, yeah? That box was heavy…”
“Really?” Changbin’s chest puffs out with alpha pride as he not-so-subtly flexes, eyes and nose wrinkling under the force of his smile. “Oh, it was nothing~”
Chan shamelessly reaches for Changbin’s biceps, squeezing them greedily before pulling the alpha into a passionate kiss and leaning against the side of the table, making the dishes on it rattle loudly. It’s then that the cats emerge from the kitchen, leaving their spots staring at Minho cook to charge at them meowing angrily. Well, mostly Dori—his orange siblings linger behind, pretending to be uninterested. Soonie is already walking back to his dad and all the yummy smells the kitchen has to offer.
Chan erupts into squeaky laughter when Dori inserts himself between them, forcing Changbin to step back so he can make a show of rubbing himself against Chan’s leg.
“Oi!” Changbin exclaims, lifting Dori and holding him to his chest like a baby. “Stop being such a cockblock, kitty!”
“He’s making sure you don’t defile our omega.” Felix giggles as he bounces into the kitchen from outside, wearing grass-stained overalls and a bandana to hold his hair back while he works in the garden. He’s followed by Hyunjin, who holds his current sketchbook under his arm, and Seungmin.
“It looks like it’s going to rain,” Felix answers the unasked question of why they're back inside so soon. “Plus, we can smell dinner.”
Dori wiggles in Changbin’s hold, who sets him back on the floor. The perturbed cat doesn’t leave, however, assuming his recent favorite post sitting at Chan’s feet with his glare pointed toward the outside world.
“He’s been all over you, even before we found out,” Hyunjin says, stepping over to his omega and placing a hand over Chan’s where it sits on his stomach. “Feel anything yet?”
Chan shakes his head, popping up onto his toes to kiss away Hyunjin’s pout. “You’ll be the first to know.”
“After me, of course,” Minho says, poking his head into the dinning room. He’s roped Jisung and Jeongin into helping him cook dinner tonight, the two of them looking more like they’ve been messing around while Minho does all the cooking. Something that’s usually expected and accepted by Minho, whipped as he is.
“No, me!” Seungmin calls in English. Chan laughs heartily, completely unaware of the seven besotted looks being aimed at him. Chan is stunning, always has been, but with pups comes a beautiful glow to his otherwise pale skin that has his alphas wanting to ravish him at every given opportunity. They would do so now, right on the dining room table, if dinner wasn’t going to be ready soon. Dr. Young said it’s essential Chan gets proper nutrients during his pregnancy, something Minho takes very seriously, but all Chan has been craving is spicy noodles…with pickles, of course.
“You don’t even like spicy food.”
Chan’s eyes fill with tears. “But…but I want spicy noodles.”
And, well, that had been the end of that.
Before Chan can even take a bite, a fluttering sensation in his abdomen stops him in his tracks. He thinks for a moment that he imagined it, but then he feels it again. And again. And again.
He grabs the wrist of the person closest to him, who happens to be Minho, and places the alpha’s hand against his stomach without a word.
“Chan? Are you okay?”
“Ssh!”
Silence.
Nothing.
“Oh…I thought—”
That’s when Minho feels it. It’s like a tiny rippling of Chan’s skin against his palm, barely felt through the material of his dress. Then it happens again and again, and there can be no mistaking what it is. Just like that, it hits Chan harder than ever that he’s really an omega now.
Chan cries happy tears. He doesn’t bother blaming the noodles.
Notes:
again, thank u beanut for having the utmost patience for what ended up being a months long process. building this story with them was a blast, go check out their incredible fics as well!
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