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Murder is entirely on the table.
Not that Chan would ever stoop so low. No, he’s a well-adjusted individual and even if he wasn’t, he is too smart to get his hands dirty. He could, however, hire someone.
“Oh, Chan-ah!” one of his friends laughs. “Look! Someone’s trying to steal your husband again.”
“I told you he’s too pretty,” another one scoffs. “The pretty ones are never worth the hassle they bring.”
“Is that why your wife is ugly?” Changbin asks, the only one of the group Chan actually likes.
“Yah! At least I didn’t marry my stalker!”
Changbin doesn’t reply to that. He only simpers as he sips his drink. In the breast pocket of his suit jacket, his phone screen lights up for the fifth time in as many minutes.
Chan rolls his eyes and leaves the circle they’re standing in.
“Whoop, there he goes!”
“A million won on the Bak wellness empire experiencing a hostile takeover come morning.”
“Mhm, I think that’d only be fair considering that’s what the poor sod is trying to do with little Felix.”
Chan downs the rest of his champagne before he puts the flute on a nearby table. He hasn’t drunk enough to be even close to tipsy, but the prickle of champagne on his tongue matches the prickle of his blood simmering under his skin.
There’s entirely too many people at this party. Too many of them stand in his way. Chan has a reputation to uphold, though, and so he plays his part. He smiles and nods and greets people by name as he makes his way through the crowd. He doesn’t linger. He has somewhere to be. Someone to remind of the fact that they are in public and the art of subtlety really shouldn’t be lost on anyone.
He approaches his husband just as Felix throws his head back to laugh. “Oh, really? That’s so funny!”
He looks good tonight, Felix does, dressed in a deep blue suit. Chan can’t remember when Felix bought it, but he can remember seeing the invoice in his bank account. Chan supposes it was a worthwhile purchase, seeing as the colour is making Felix’s skin look even more sun-kissed than it already is. There’s matching glittery blue eyeshadow on his lids too, reflecting the light.
Chan’s pretty little bird, and here is another stranger trying to catch him in his hands.
Chan’s eyes glue themselves to the stranger’s hands. They are currently resting on Felix’s shoulders. It makes Chan reconsider the hitman.
“Felix.” He doesn’t raise his voice as he calls out to his husband. Felix hears him anyway. The smile slides off his face as their eyes meet. Chan feels a twinge of satisfaction at that.
“Excuse me,” Chan says, polite to a tee as he joins the conversation. He has no qualms sliding his arm around Felix’s waist, making it uncomfortable for the man trying to chat up his husband to stand so close to both of them. “I fear I must interrupt this riveting conversation of yours.”
“Chan,” Felix says through gritted teeth, but he’s smart enough to at least try and smile.
Chan doesn’t let his own smile falter. He tightens his grip on Felix’s waist. “Come on now, darling. It’s already late. We better head home.”
There’s bloody murder in Felix’s eyes, but he doesn’t really have a choice. Even if Chan had left him one, his own guilty conscience wouldn’t let him act out. Not in public. So, Felix grits his teeth and Chan can feel the precise moment his husband gives in. Felix’s ramrod-straight posture relaxes a little, effectively making him sag against Chan’s side. Chan’s already got him. He doesn’t hesitate to lead Felix away, from this conversation and from this evening which has frankly been dragging on for long enough.
Bak doesn’t look too happy seeing them leave, but far is it from Chan to care. He briefly wonders whether a hostile business takeover would actually be worth it. He wouldn’t have considered it on his own—Chan is not that petty—but now that he’s thinking about it, it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. He’ll have Seungmin look into it.
Later, though. He’s got his hands full right now.
“You’re the fucking worst,” Felix hisses in his ear as Chan steers them towards the exit.
Chan ignores him in favour of smiling at an elderly couple who are just on their way into the venue. The woman smiles at him, undoubtedly enamoured by the picture they paint: just a couple of newlyweds eager to get home. Chan wonders whether it’ll ever be anything other than an act.
Felix, for his part, hates being ignored. “Seriously?” he wheedles. “Are you not embarrassed? I was just having a normal conversation and you show up playing the jealous husband like that?”
Chan finally looks at him.
Just to be clear, it is not jealousy that he feels. Jealousy is an emotion for insecure people. For people whose partner would actually fuck someone else behind their back. Chan is not one of those. Felix loves to rile him up, but he would never be stupid enough to actually let another man touch him. Their marriage contract would be void if he did and Felix is not going to risk that.
So, Chan has nothing to be insecure about. He’s not jealous. He simply came to remind Felix that they are both bound by their agreement and that flirting with another man in public really isn’t a good look.
“Well, I kind of had to intervene, don’t you think?”
Felix scowls at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you were acting like a whore.”
Felix gasps. His cheeks flush as he pushes away from Chan. In the mirrored sides of the elevator, Chan can see that the back of his neck is flushing red too. “Take that back!”
“I can’t. It’s rude to lie.”
Felix tries to hit him, but Chan easily catches his wrist. It’s not that Felix lacks strength. He’s wiry, but he’s got a nice layer of muscle wrapped around his bones. All those pilates classes Chan has been paying for have paid off. The problem is that Felix’s punches lack conviction. He’s not violent by nature. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.
It’s just that he hates Chan enough to try.
“Fuck you!” Felix spits.
Chan snorts. “You couldn’t handle it if I did.”
Felix lets out a noise like an angry cat. His entire frame is shaking. The sight satisfies Chan. He likes that Felix hates him. It is better to be hated than to not matter at all.
And Chan matters a great deal to Felix, whether Felix wants him to or not.
“I don’t actually want this,” was the first thing Felix told him as they’d swayed across the dance floor at their wedding. “I’m only doing this to help save my family’s business. You have nothing to expect of me. Really, I don’t even like you.”
Chan smiled then and he smiles now.
He can see that it makes Felix even angrier. Nothing vexes him more than when he feels like Chan is looking down at him: for being almost a decade younger, for having no knowledge of the real world, for being Chan’s pretty prize to wrap up a business deal well done—but it all comes down to the same thing.
“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met!”
Chan isn’t hurt by those words because he hears them almost every day. He tells Felix the same thing he tells the people whose businesses he seizes, “A deal with the devil is still better than none, is it not?”
Chan is sure that if looks could kill, the look in Felix’s eyes would have him keel over and die right about now.
The aggressive tension between them is cut through by the sound of the elevator doors opening. Chan keeps his grip on one of Felix’s wrists so he can lead him out into the parking garage. He’ll let Felix work out his emotions in any way he wants, but Chan will get them out of the public eye first.
Luckily, Minho is already waiting for them. Chan doesn’t know how his driver does it, but it’s what Chan is paying him for so he doesn’t ask. He lets Minho lead the way to the car, allowing Minho to open the door for Felix and him.
Because Felix seems intent on making his life as difficult as he possibly can right now, Chan has to almost wrestle him into the backseat. Minho shoots him a questioning look, but he doesn’t ask. Again, Chan pays him too well to do that. Besides, Minho has to be used to it from the two of them by now.
Felix is sulking by the time Chan joins him in the backseat. He’s got his arms crossed in front of his chest and lips pushed into a pout. The sight would be endearing, if Felix wasn’t still radiating murderous intent.
Chan doesn’t hesitate to lean over to put on Felix’s seatbelt for him. Felix huffs, but lets him. Anything else would be foolish and Felix is not that. He’s just petulant. Chan blames it on the age difference.
“You’re such an asshole,” Felix mumbles as Chan pulls away to fasten his own seatbelt.
“And you should know better,” Chan says calmly.
“I wasn’t even doing anything!” Felix’s face is still blotchy red with anger. “I was having a perfectly normal conversation with that man before you waltzed in!”
“You have to know as well as I do that the things you think you’re doing don’t matter, Felix, it only matters what it looks like.”
“It shouldn’t look like anything because there wasn’t anything going on!”
“Don’t be so naive.”
“I’m not! What would you have me do then? Stop, drop and roll every time someone tries to talk to me?” Felix scoffs at him, his eyes roving over Chan’s body as if he could flay him layer by layer. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? I know you’d love it if I didn’t have a brain at all and just stood there, pretty and patient, while you’re talking to your smarmy friends.”
“Talking to those smarmy friends is good for business. You know, just like being happily married is.”
“Of course,” Felix seethes, “the only thing you care about is your business.”
That’s not true, Chan wants to say. He doesn’t.
He says, “Believe it or not, Felix, a lot of the things I do, I do to protect you too. Or do you want your face plastered across all the gossip sites come morning, calling you a homewrecker? You know there’s always a pap or two who make it inside at these events. It only takes a single badly-angled photo.”
Felix has to see reason in that. His husband likes to pretend otherwise, but Felix’s feelings are fragile. He cares about what others think of him. He’s too young to not want others to like him and it hurts him when they don’t.
Felix, as flushed and angry as he is right now, stares at him for a moment before he laughs. He outright laughs in Chan’s face.
“Don’t lie to me now, Chan. We both know you don’t care about the press that much. The only reputation you’re interested in is your own. God forbid any of your smarmy friends might believe that the almighty Bang Chan doesn’t have total control over his husband like he has over all other things. That would finally make you feel something, wouldn’t it?”
Chan knows what Felix is doing. He knows and it shouldn’t affect him. It shouldn’t. And yet… “Luckily, it’s not something I have to worry about, is it?”
Felix licks his lips, his gaze becoming impossibly darker. The corner of his mouth curls into a smile. “Are you so sure about that?”
Chan blinks. It is very, very hard to surprise him. “What do you mean?”
Felix shrugs, nonchalant all of a sudden. Where he was coiled tight like a spring, he relaxes, stretching himself out in his seat. Chan doesn’t know when Felix undid the top button of his dress shirt. The way the fabric falls apart to expose his throat looks almost pornographic.
“I’m saying maybe I should. Maybe I should fuck someone else. I’m a whore anyway, am I not? Might as well act on it.”
Chan’s vision turns dark around the edges. “Felix.”
“Minho,” Felix calls out, sweetly like he never, ever talks to Chan. “Can we make a quick detour? I’d like you to drop me off at a club. Doesn’t really matter which one. I’m sure you know somewhere good, yes?”
“Felix,” Chan warns again.
“What?” Felix huffs, glaring at him. “It’s not like you care.”
Chan holds his gaze. Clenches his jaw. Without looking away from Felix, he says, “Minho, partition.”
“Sir?” Out of the corner of his eye, Chan can see Minho shoot him a worried glance through the rearview mirror.
“I wasn’t asking, Minho.”
A moment of silence passes. It’s broken by the low hum of the partition coming up. Chan doesn’t break eye contact with Felix. Because it’s Minho driving, Chan doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle his seatbelt.
Felix watches the movement with steadily widening eyes. Chan can see it, the way his bravado leaves him as soon as the partition hits the roof of the car. As soon as he’s effectively alone with Chan.
“You want to say that again?” Chan asks him.
Felix’s adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t fold. Chan wouldn’t have married him if he was someone who did. No, his Felix, his pretty little bird with sharp, sharp talons, juts out his chin, smiling again but it’s not sweet. Not like he looked at Minho. “You heard me the first time.”
“Did I?”
“I know you did.”
“Are you going to sleep here?” Felix asked him on the night of their wedding. Chan knew what he was really asking. Are you going to sleep with me?
Chan saw it in Felix’s eyes then, that fear and forlorn longing for a different ending for himself, all packaged up in the shape of the most beautiful boy Chan had ever seen. Felix looked very small, sitting alone on the big, wide bed of their honeymoon suite. Chan smiled at him at that moment. He smiled and shook his head and left. He left Felix alone that night and all others that have followed.
Chan feels a muscle in his jaw twitch. “You’re not going to any club, Felix.”
“Why not?” He spreads out more. It’s the most graphic thing Chan’s ever seen. “At least I’d have some fun there.”
“You’re not going.”
“But why?”
“Because I’m your husband, and you are mine.”
Felix scoffs. “Am I? I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell.”
Chan tries, but sometimes he really doesn’t understand his husband. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Felix looks away, his jaw clenching shut. Chan studies him, looking for cracks in his armour. There’s very little he’s got to work with.
“You’re upset about the whore comment? Fine. I apologise.”
Felix scoffs. “An apology is useless if you don’t mean it.”
“What would you have me do, then?”
Felix shrugs. He doesn’t look angry at that moment. If Chan didn’t know better, he’d think that Felix looks almost… sad in his frustration.
“Felix…” Chan tries to be gentle. He tries.
Felix looks at him, eyes alight with fire. “Poor little Felix,” he mocks . “I know you think I’m stupid and vapid and I don’t know anything, but that’s not true! I know things! The most important thing is that I know what a happy marriage should look like and this is not it!”
Chan swallows. He’s well aware their marriage isn’t a happy one. Not for Felix.
“What should it look like?” he asks.
Felix huffs. “As if you care.”
“Humour me.”
Chan slides closer. Touching Felix in any capacity feels a lot like putting his hand on the trigger of a bear trap, but Chan isn’t afraid. Whatever he feels for Felix, fear was never a part of it. He takes Felix’s hand, aligning their rings. Felix’s eyes follow the movement, blinking rapidly.
“You want me to listen? I’m listening. What would it look like if we were happy together?” If he speaks calmly, Felix will too.
Felix squints at him, still angry but there’s a flicker of confusion in his eyes. Chan can see it on his face, how he has to decide between leaning into his anger more or giving Chan a real answer. Chan is surprised when he picks the latter. When Felix looks at their clasped hands and squeezes.
“You…” he mumbles. “You would greet me when you come home.”
Chan frowns. “I do that.”
Felix glares at him, “You greet me like I’m one of your employees. ‘Good evening, Felix.’ That’s not how married people talk to each other!”
Chan nods. “What would you have me do instead?”
Felix’s ears turn red.
Chan waits.
“You’d kiss me,” Felix whispers. “Like they do in the movies, you’d kiss me.”
Chan stops breathing right then and there. “I’d kiss you?”
“And you’d ask me how my day was! And care about what I have to say!”
Chan is reeling but he has to keep the conversation going. He can’t have Felix stop talking to him now. “What makes you think I don’t care about that right now?”
Felix huffs. “Because you never ask me anything! I doubt you even know what my favourite colour is.”
Blue, Chan doesn’t say. Hawaiian Pizza, he doesn’t say, summer season, La Mer skincare, Sprite with a slice of real lemon in it and all other things someone could have a favourite of. None of these things, he says.
“What else?”
“You’d—” Felix hesitates, face flushing once more as he squirms. “You’d take care of me.”
“I do.”
Chan definitely does that. The moment they came home from their honeymoon, Chan handed Felix his blackest card and told him to buy whatever he wanted—for their home or for himself, whatever he wanted. Felix has everything he wants. Chan makes sure that he does.
“Not like that,” Felix says. He squirms again. “I mean…”
His ears turn as red as the rest of his face. For the briefest of moments, his eyes fall to Chan’s throat, to where he’s loosened his tie with frustrated tugs and then it wanders lower. A lot lower.
Oh. Oh.
A well of possibilities opens in Chan’s brain. He swallows. “Felix.”
Felix all but squeaks, pulls away from him to cover his face with his hands. “Forget it! I didn’t mean it!”
The prickling simmer underneath Chan’s skin is back, but this time it’s not anger. It heats his blood up in the same way, but it’s not anger.
He smiles. “You didn’t even say anything.”
Felix glares at him through the slits of his fingers. “You understood me just fine.”
Chan lowers his voice, but it’s not mocking this time. It never was. “Did I?”
“Chan.”
Chan peels Felix’s hands away from his face and cups his jaw, feeling the vein jump under his thumb. It’s addicting, feeling the way Felix’s heart pounds, pounds because of him.
“My pretty, pretty bird,” he mumbles, “what is it that you want?”
Felix stares at him, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, his lips slick with spit before he licks them. His lips form a single syllable. Chan would recognise it anywhere. It is his name, after all.
He is about to get light-headed with how quickly blood rushes downwards, but then Felix’s expression sours, crumbles like a castle into the sea of tears forming in his eyes.
“Stop playing, Chan.” His husband begs quietly, Chan learns, quietly and with a trembling voice, “I know you don’t want me. It’s too cruel to pretend that you do, even for you.”
“What makes you think that I don’t want you?” What could ever make you think that?
Felix bites his lip, averting his eyes. Chan hates that. He didn’t marry Felix to make him sad. He promises he didn’t.
“I know you got stuck with me,” Felix mumbles, looking at his fingers, playing with his ring. The ring Chan put there. “I know you only married me because my father begged you to take me off his hands.”
Chan frowns. “You really think that?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Seungmin laughed at him when Chan brought it up for the first time. “Please, tell me you’re kidding,” he added when he realised that Chan was not.
“Just look into it for me.”
Seungmin stared at him in disbelief. “Print media is dead. No one actually reads stuff on paper anymore, hyung, certainly not the news.”
“They have an online presence.”
Seungmin looked at him as if he wanted to reach out and check Chan’s temperature. “Hyung,” he said slowly. “I can’t believe I have to tell you this, but this would be a bad investment. Bad business, which is something you don’t do.”
Chan considered this, leaning back in his office chair. “Well…I think I’m allowed one misstep.”
Seungmin shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But he also knew Chan well enough to know that he was never not serious.
“Why?”
Why, indeed.
“It’s the biggest newspaper outlet in the country. It wouldn’t hurt to add a household name to my portfolio.”
Seungmin shook his head. “No good name matters if the numbers aren’t there. Also, this is going to land you on the radar of the cartel office again. You can’t be the one in the news and printing them.”
“And I’m sure you’ll find a way to prevent all these silly little things from happening, like you always do.”
Seungmin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. They both knew it was the truth. They both knew Chan wasn’t letting go now that he’d sunk his teeth in.
“I want a week off.” Seungmin lifted his head. “After the deal is done, I’m going to take Jeongin to Busan. He’s been wanting for us to visit his parents. I’ll be gone for an entire week and you will not fucking call me.”
“Done.”
Seungmin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head in surprise. “Wait, really?”
Chan smiled at him. “I am but a gracious god.”
Seungmin rolled his eyes, but got up to get to work. “Anything else I have to know?”
Chan licked his lips. “No, but…”
Seungmin narrowed his eyes. “ But what?”
“There’s something I need you to add to the contract.”
Looking at Felix now, Chan takes a deep breath. “You got it wrong.”
Felix shakes his head. “I’ve read the contract. I know my father only sold you 51% of the shares under the condition that I was included in the package.”
“Is that what it looked like to you?”
Felix frowns at him. “What do you mean?”
Chan smiles. Omitting the truth is not the same as lying, but it seems like Felix is not going to let him get away with either.
“Your father fought for you, Felix. Really, he went on his knees and begged me not to take you. That’s what happened.”
Chan doesn’t mention the part where it didn’t make a difference. Where Felix’s father still chose to save his business over his own son. He didn’t decline the offer Chan made. Chan knows that it was too good to pass up—way too much money for a dying business—but Felix’s father still could have. He had a choice. It was Chan who chose Felix.
Felix’s eyes grow comically large. He’s beautiful even with tears rolling down his cheeks. Chan has noticed it before. There are only two things that can really make Felix cry, his family and Chan. “Really?”
Chan nods, leaning closer. The worse the confession, the more quietly it should be spoken, “It was me, angel. I’m the one who insisted he give you to me. He offered me everything else he had to offer, but I wanted you.”
Felix’s eyes are even larger up close, containing the entire universe. Chan just wants to explore the worlds inside his head.
“It was you?” Felix’s words are no more than a breath against his mouth. They’re so close now.
Chan smiles. “I never lose in a deal, sweetheart.”
“But…” Felix’s round, reddened eyes search Chan’s for the truth. “...you don’t want me.”
Chan frowns. “You keep saying that and I keep having to wonder why ever you would think that?”
“You—you left me! You got a spare room on our honeymoon! That was our wedding night and you just left and you haven’t spend a single night with me since then. Not even just to sleep.”
Chan shrugs. “You told me you didn’t like me.”
Felix falters. He looks down between them. He begs quietly and he confesses quietly too, “I didn’t mean it. I was angry, but not at you. I was just…”
“I know.” Chan smiles. He does know. He was there, even if Felix didn’t see him. He fixed it for him, even if Felix will never get to know that.
Felix still looks halfway torn between crying and calming down so Chan does the only sensible thing there is to do: Slowly, so slowly that Felix has plenty of time to deck him in the face if he so pleases, he cups Felix’s cheek. Felix doesn’t hit him. He doesn’t even breathe as Chan leans in and presses his lips to his neck.
He doesn’t kiss Felix on the mouth. He’s seen Felix kiss others on the lips, most notably his little stalker friend and the youngest Han boy. Those were friendly, drunken pecks that didn’t interest Chan much, but this moment and this kiss, it is all Chan’s. Felix will never be able to touch his neck ever again without thinking of this moment, of Chan. Chan can tell by the way Felix’s breath hitches, his fingers digging into Chan’s arms, his entire body keening towards Chan. He gasps something akin to Chan’s name and Chan saves the sound so deep in his memory that he can never forget.
Pulling away, he wipes the tears from Felix’s cheeks and smiles. His real smile. Not the one he shows to the world, but the one that he’s been reserving for his husband. Only his husband. Felix stares at it. His neck shines with Chan’s saliva. He reaches forward and pokes the corner of Chan’s mouth, as if he can’t quite believe Chan is even capable of making that expression. Chan laughs and bites at his fingers, catching Felix’s hand before Felix can pull it away.
“Do you understand now?” he asks.
“No.” Felix is still staring at Chan’s lips, licking his own. “Show me again.”
Chan laughs.
It’s easy to unbuckle Felix’s seatbelt. It’s even easier to pull him onto his lap. He drapes his own seatbelt around them both and closes it with a click. Safety first, he supposes now that Felix is sharing his seat.
Felix blinks down at him, as if he’s not yet caught up with their new position. He doesn’t look upset about it. He touches Chan’s face again, slides his fingers into Chan’s hair to tug at it. It doesn’t hurt but Chan still winces because it is expected of him and he wants Felix to know that everything he does has an effect on Chan.
“Sometimes I can’t believe you’re a real person,” Felix whispers.
Chan’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”
Felix shakes his head. There’s tiny lights embedded into the roof of the car, creating a sea of stars that illuminates Felix’s face in the most ethereal shades of pale blue and purple. Chan could look at him forever, hold him forever just like this but Felix is nine years younger than him. He doesn’t have that kind of patience.
He tightens his grip on Chan’s hair and that’s the only warning Chan gets before Felix is kissing him, smushing their mouths together with a lack of finesse that makes Chan laugh. Felix doesn’t seem to care. He takes advantage of Chan’s open mouth by licking at his teeth, his tongue.
It’s messy and clumsy and so earnest that Chan feels his heart come alive. Kissing Felix when he thought he might never get to have him at all fills Chan with a type of want that is almost overwhelming in its intensity. He won’t be able to let go now that he knows what it’s like to have this. He doesn’t let Felix get away from him when Felix tries to catch his breath.
He just pulls Felix in and kisses him again, hungrily this time, forcing Felix’s jaw open with his thumb so he can slip his tongue inside. He meets Felix’s tongue in an open-mouthed kiss. Felix whimpers into his mouth, fingers digging into his nape before he’s suddenly pushing himself away from Chan. Because of the seat belt draped over his back, he doesn’t get very far, but Chan can tell he makes an effort. Enough of one that he doesn’t chase after him immediately.
“I’m not a whore.”
Chan takes a moment to process Felix’s words, to pry his eyes away from Felix’s kiss-swollen mouth. “I know.”
Felix frowns, his nails scraping over the suit jacket covering Chan’s shoulders. “You do?”
“I do. I know you’d never cheat. I know you’ve been waiting for me.”
Felix flushes the prettiest shade of pink. “And you?” he challenges because he wants things to be fair. That’s all he’s ever wanted from Chan. “Have you been waiting for me?”
Chan can’t help but smile. “Much longer than you can imagine.”
His answer seems to genuinely confuse Felix. “Wait, but I thought—you mean you never stepped out on me?”
“Never.” Chan growls, pulling him close again. “You’re my husband. Why should I ever seek out someone else when you are what I come home too.”
Felix stares at him, slack-jawed. It’s too good of an invitation to pass up. Chan brings their mouths together again. Felix whines, high and reedy as he clings to Chan, rolling his hips in time with every swipe of Chan’s tongue into his mouth. His kisses taste salty. His cock is growing hard where he’s grinding against Chan’s lap. Chan can feel it. He can feel everything.
“Only you, sunshine, I haven’t even looked at anyone else since we got married. Why would I?”
He settles his hands on Felix’s waist and helps him along until Felix starts to tremble in his arms, disconnecting their mouths so he can whine into his neck. Chan lifts his hand and caresses the back of Felix’s neck. He slides his hand into Felix’s hair and pulls his head back so they’re looking at each other. His husband is a sight with teary eyes and spit-slick lips, looking at Chan with so much desperation. What else could a god want than to be needed? Chan puts his lips to his neck again.
“My husband,” he whispers, enjoying the way it makes Felix shiver. There’s so much heat between them. Chan is sure the car windows have to be fogged up by now. He’s sure Minho is driving in circles at this point, judging by the way the car keeps going left. Chan doesn’t really care. He knows Minho will continue driving until Chan knocks on the partition. “And you really thought I’d ever let someone else have you?”
Felix shakes his head. “Knew— I knew you would come for me.”
“Did you?”
Felix nods. “You always do. Even when I make you mad, you never— ah —” He gasps, his cock twitching when Chan grabs onto his ass. “—never leave me behind.”
Felix’s words fill Chan with a sense of pride he didn’t know he was even capable of feeling. It’s important to him that Felix knows that, that he knows Chan has him.
“Never,” he promises. “You’re my husband. I’ll always be there. I’ll always give you what you want, whatever you want.”
Felix buries his face in his neck, mouthing at his skin. It muffles his next words.
“What was that, sunshine?”
Felix lifts his head.
“I want you to touch me.” The words come out as a demand, fuelled by false bravado and maybe, just maybe the realisation that Chan meant what he said. Chan is obsessed with him.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
Chan trails his fingers up the front of Felix’s clothed bulge, enjoying the way he can feel Felix’s clothed cock twitch against his hand before he tugs open his belt and shoves his hand down the front of his husband’s pants. It’s hot and damp in there and Chan doesn’t hesitate to wrap his fingers around his husband’s leaking cock.
Felix’s breath stutters in shock, his fingers squeezing Chan’s upper arms for dear life.
Chan has thought a lot about touching him, sometimes like this and sometimes in all other ways, but even the wildest of his dreams doesn’t compare to the sight of Felix’s features overtaken by pleasure. If he wasn’t already, Chan would have become obsessed with him at this moment.
“Chan— Chan, fuck!”
Chan quite likes the eager, messy, desperate way Felix kisses him. He wouldn’t mind stroking him forever if this is his reward. Relishing the taste of Felix’s tongue, he works his hand up and down Felix’s cock until Felix catches onto his wrist, thighs trembling and large eyes trembling. “Please.”
“What is it, darling? You want me to stop?”
“No!” Felix’s grip tightens around his wrist, his hips bucking up into Chan’s fist. Precum dribbles from the dip.
“It’s not enough,” he pants.
“No?”
The first of Felix’s tears falls, rolling down his cheek. “No.”
“You want more?”
Felix nods, nails digging into Chan’s arms. “Need to feel you. Inside, please, I need—I’ve waited for so long.” Felix rolls his hips again and Chan understands him now. What he’s really been trying to do while grinding on his lap.
And how could he deny Felix anything?
“Of course.”
Felix nearly slumps against him in relief. Chan kisses his cheek, stroking the back of his head while fumbling for the middle console with the other. It takes a moment to get it open and even longer to find what he is looking for, but eventually he procures the small plastic bottle shoved in there along with all kinds of chargers.
Felix’s eyes go comically wide when he sees the lube before his eyes narrow in suspicion. “You just have that in there?”
Chan smiles at him. “It’s been in there for exactly 200 days.”
Felix frowns and Chan can see him trying to do the maths in his head. “That dates back to…”
“...our wedding day.”
“Are you serious?”
Chan smiles. “Yes.”
Felix huffs. “Presumptuous.”
“Hopeful,” Chan corrects him. He kisses his husband before he pops the cap. Warming the lube between his fingers, he strokes his clean hand down the button line of Felix’s dress shirt. He enjoys the way it makes Felix shiver. “How attached are you to this suit?”
Felix pouts as he looks down at himself. “It’s custom-made. I thought you’d pay more attention to me if I looked pretty.”
Chan thinks he might die he’s so endeared. He curls his lubed fingers into a fist. “Then maybe—”
“No!” Felix grabs onto his wrist. He rocks his hips and Chan nearly moans at the unexpected pressure against his dick. Felix frantically shakes his head. “It’s fine. It’s fine, it’s really fine just…just touch. Please, please, touch me.”
Chan nods, patting Felix’s butt with his clean hand. “Lift up for me.”
Felix does, bracing himself against the roof of the car. Chan makes quick work of his dress pants and underwear, shoving them down as far as he can get them in their cramped position. It’s enough to expose Felix’s lower body and Chan tries hard not to get distracted by the first real glance at his husband’s cock. It’s pretty and flushed like the rest of him. It’s begging for attention like the rest of him.
Chan considers actually going back to jerking him off but then Felix bucks his hips, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. Chan grabs onto his ass. It’s easy to spread Felix’s cheeks as he kisses him. It’s exhilarating to stroke his thumb over the tight furl of his husband’s rim before pressing his pointer finger inside.
Felix whines, going rigid in his lap.
“Relax for me darling. Trust me.”
Chan is not unaware of himself. He knows he is the last person on this Earth anyone should trust but Felix does. He realises it at this moment. Felix is looking at him with so much trust, so much helpless adoration in his eyes. Chan knows he doesn’t deserve any of it, but he is going to hold onto this forever. He doesn’t have any other choice. This is the most precious thing he’s ever been given. He kisses Felix, kisses his lips and cheeks and lips again until he feels Felix relax around his finger.
“Chan,” he whimpers.
Chan shushes him, deepens their kiss and moves his finger. The tight ring of muscle relaxes and Chan wriggles in another, drinks the helpless cries spilling from his husband’s mouth.
He’s so beautiful. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells Felix, “my sunshine, my Felix.”
Felix arches against him, fingertips digging into Chan’s shoulder blade. It keeps them together just as much as Chan’s grip on his ass does. “Do you love me?”
It’s such a juvenile thing to ask. The kind of thing that proves to Chan again that Felix isn’t halfway through his twenties yet.
Chan smiles at him. “More than that.”
He can see the question in Felix’s eyes, but now is not the time to explain to him what he means. It will take years to really make Felix understand, but Chan will try. He is going to try every single day for the rest of their lives.
He scissors his fingers, caressing Felix’s insides until Felix is panting, squirming, his cock jumping as precum dribbles from the tip.
“You’re gonna come on my fingers, sweetheart?”
Felix whimpers, shaking his head as a single, overwhelmed tear escapes him. “No, no, I want— ah!”
“What do you want?” Chan coos at him.
He can tell Felix wants to glare at him, but a single graze of Chan’s fingers over his prostate has Felix moaning instead, holding onto Chan’s shoulders for dear life.
“Please, I—” his eyes fall between them, to where Chan is straining against the fabric of his own trousers. “Please.”
Chan is going to die. He’s pretty sure of it. If he does, he will absolutely die buried inside his husband, however.
With one of his hands still occupied, he struggles a little with his own zipper but then Felix’s greedy little hands are there, undoing it for him. His fingers curl into the waistband of Chan’s underwear to get to his price. Chan lets himself be undressed, a groan escaping him at the first touch of Felix’s fingers around his hot flesh.
“Oh, fuck,” Felix whimpers, his fingertips skirting along the length of Chan’s cock before wrapping around it. His fingers don’t quite reach and that makes them both groan. When Felix looks up at him, he looks scared.
Chan wants to laugh, he finds Felix so endearing. Instead, he lets out a calming hum. It doesn’t work quite as well as he’d hoped.
Felix shakes his head, his voice lightly trembling as he squeezes, “No way that’s gonna fit.”
Ignoring the way his cock jumps at the stimulation, Chan kisses his lips again before he presses another, lingering kiss to the spot below Felix’s ear.
“We’ll make it fit,” he promises.
Felix whines at that, burying his face in Chan’s neck. Chan rubs a hand up and down his back as he focuses back on his other hand, on the fingers he still has buried inside Felix.
“Relax for me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just need to relax for me.”
Felix whines, buries his teeth in Chan’s shoulder and does as he’s told. Chan works him open carefully, only adds a third finger when he’s absolutely sure Felix can take it. Felix is shaking by now, his thighs trembling with the need to come.
Chan is going to get him there, just not now.
He pulls his fingers out of Felix’s loosened hole and wraps his slick fingers around himself, groaning at the feeling after being left high and dry for so long. Felix watches him with his lip caught between his teeth. Chan uses his clean hand to briefly stroke his cheek before he grabs his waist. Felix braces himself on his shoulders as he lifts his hips and then Chan is lining himself up. He has to do it blindly because there’s no way he’s looking away from Felix’s face at that moment. There’s no way he’s going to miss this.
Felix’s mouth drops open the moment Chan starts pushing in, the head of Chan’s cock stretching him like never before. Chan tightens his grip on his waist to guide him onto his cock slowly. Felix whines with every centimetre he sinks down. The sound in itself is so obscene Chan has to bite the inside of his cheek in an effort not to come on the spot.
It’s too good, the way Felix’s body is welcoming him, the way he can feel himself spearing Felix open on his cock. He knew Felix was perfect, but this is another level. This is Felix being made for him, for his cock, for everything he’s ever wanted to share with him. He heaves in a breath once Felix’s ass meets his hips.
Felix is sucking in short, aborted breaths that make Chan rub his flank. “No rush,” he attaches his lips to Felix’s neck because that seems to distract him well enough. “Take as much time as you need.”
Felix only whines in response. It takes another minute of ragged breathing and him clenching maddeningly around Chan’s cock before he starts to relax. “Fuck.” He blinks the tears out of his eyes, looking at Chan as if he’s the only thing in the world that makes sense. Chan is pretty sure he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.
“Go slowly, baby.” Chan pushes up the hem of Felix’s shirt, settling his hands on his bare waist. “Just move with me.”
Felix wraps his arms around Chan’s shoulders and follows his guidance, lifting himself with shaking thighs. Chan groans at the movement, catching Felix’s lips in a kiss. They’re both panting, an open-mouthed slide of their tongues against each other, but it’s perfect. Felix sinks down on him again and it’s perfect.
“That’s it, just like that,” Chan encourages.
“Chan,” Felix whines. “‘s so good, but it‘s so-so much.”
Chan kisses the next breath out of him, grabbing his ass to better help him along. Felix undulates his hips and this time it’s Chan who groans. He’s pretty sure Felix is going to have finger-shaped bruises on his ass by the end of this.
“Feel so good around me,” he whispers right into Felix’s ear, enjoying the way it makes his husband shiver. “You were made for me, weren’t you?”
“Do you love me?” Felix asks him again with tears clinging to his lashes.
“Yes.” It’s not enough. A simple word will never be enough to encompass all that Chan feels for him, but he can tell that it’s important for Felix to hear it. To have that memory, like a replayable track in his mind. “I love you, Felix. Love you, angel, my angel, my Felix.”
Felix sobs, picking up the speed of his hips. He rides Chan’s cock almost frantically, as if he’s afraid Chan is going to disappear if he doesn’t make the most of it now. There’s no need for him to worry, but Chan knows words aren’t going to help it. He’ll have to show Felix time and time again.
What he can do right now is create another memory Felix will never be able to forget. He unbuckles their shared seatbelt. The car stopped moving around ten minutes ago and Chan has no doubt Minho is far away from it by now, working through the pack of cigarettes he keeps in his breast pocket.
Chan is glad for it.
He doesn’t mind an audience under certain circumstances, but he would hate to share this moment with anyone else, not when his husband is finally all his own. Pressing one last, bruising kiss to Felix’s lips, he tightens his grip on Felix’s waist to lift him off his cock. Felix gasps in surprise, scrambling for purchase on the upholstery behind him, but Chan has him. He flips Felix around before he guides him back onto his lap, guides his cock back inside.
Once he has bottomed out, he pulls Felix back flush against his chest. Felix’s body is unbearably warm, his dress shirt soaked through with sweat, but Chan doesn’t mind. He rather enjoys the way he gets to nibble on Felix’s nape like this, put his mouth on all new skin. It’s almost enough to distract him from the overwhelming urge to fuck his husband into next year.
It seems that Felix doesn’t feel the same.
“Chan,” he whines, wriggling his hips as much as he can. His hole keeps clenching around Chan. “Please, move, I—”
Chan bites him, right where his neck meets his shoulder and Felix screams. Chan smiles as he soothes the skin with his tongue. It’s going to leave a nasty mark, one which will tell every stranger who’s so eager to ignore the diamond ring on Felix’s finger to back off. Chan grabs onto the underside of Felix’s thighs and lifts him just enough so he can start pounding up into him.
Felix screams again, all but collapsing on top of Chan as he’s overtaken by pleasure. “Chan—oh, fuck, Chan!” His hands are so small trying to grab onto Chan’s thighs for support. “Fuck!”
Chan doesn’t stop. He’s too busy watching the way Felix’s hole stretches taut and pink around his cock every time he bullies his length into Felix’s body, remolds him from the inside. In his own humble opinion, he is absolutely sure now that Felix was made for this, for him.
He attaches his lips to Felix’s nape again, licking the salt from his skin. It makes Felix mewl before he drops his head onto Chan’s shoulder. Chan likes that too because this way he can kiss Felix’s cheek, his lips when Felix finally turns his head.
Felix’s eyes have slipped shut, a blissful little smile on his face as tears slide down his cheek. Chan slows his pace, grinding into him more deeply so Felix can feel every drag of his cock against his walls. It makes Felix shudder, his nails digging into the flesh of Chan’s thighs and Chan knows he’s close. He hooks his chin over Felix’s shoulder so he can watch, smiling at the way Felix starts mouthing at his neck.
Chan only grunts when he’s bitten. He always knew his kitten had claws. In a sense, it makes him smile. He’s too busy grabbing onto Felix’s cock to tease him about it, though.
Felix gasps, his legs starting to shake in earnest.
“Chan,” he mewls. “Chan, ‘m so close. Gonna come, Chan, ‘m gonna—”
Chan turns his head so they can kiss, so he can coo his permission right into Felix’s mouth. “It’s okay, sunshine. I got you. Let go, I got you.”
Felix mewls, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he comes all over Chan’s hand, over his front and the sinfully expensive silk of his dress shirt. Chan works him through it, keeping up the slow grind of his hips.
“You too,” Felix slurs, he’s really close to collapsing into dead weight on top of Chan but he’s holding on. He’s holding himself up for Chan, for him to chase his pleasure.
The thought is enough to tip Chan over the edge. He fucks into Felix one, two times before spilling into him, groaning as he’s overtaken by pleasure. Felix weakly clenches around him, trying to roll his hips to help him along before his legs finally give out. He slumps on top of Chan.
Chan doesn’t mind. He mouths at Felix’s shoulder, coasting in his bliss until it all becomes a little too much. It physically hurts to pull out of Felix, but Felix is starting to squirm too. As gently as he can, he lifts Felix and deposits him back onto his seat.
Felix whines once Chan lets go of him, bonelessly melting into the backseat.
“There’s cum literally everywhere,” he whines. “I can feel it dripping out of me.”
Chan blinks away the imagery of that. He can’t get hard again so soon. It might kill him. “You want me to carry you?”
“I can’t leave the car like this!” Felix sits up in alarm before he slumps back down with a wince.
“I’ll get you some clothes.”
“No!” Felix grabs onto his arm before he can reach for the handle of the car door. “Don’t—” His voice breaks. “Don’t leave me.”
Chan melts at the real panic in Felix’s eyes. He scoots forward to kiss him, rubbing soothing circles into his side. “I’ll be right back. Minho has to be outside somewhere. I’ll tell him to get you some clothes and then I’ll be right back with you.”
Felix still looks unhappy as he lets go of him, but he nods. “Okay.”
Chan kisses him again before he gets out of the car.
Much like he expected, the car is parked in the underground parking garage of their building. Minho is standing by the doors of the elevator, smoking like Chan predicted.
He drops his cigarette when he sees Chan approach. It’s an uncharacteristically emotional reaction, coming from his side. Chan doesn’t think he’s ever seen his driver act out of surprise, and Chan has seen Minho pull his gun on people before.
“Where’s Felix?” Minho asks him, wary.
Chan smiles. He hired Minho because he was the type not to ask questions. With Felix’s cum drying on his hand, he doesn’t feel the need to question how fond Minho seems to have grown of his husband. He’s glad for it. Minho has strict orders to prioritise Felix’s life over Chan’s anyway, should things go awry, but it still doesn’t hurt to know that he cares.
Barely contained anger fills Minho’s voice. “Did you finally fucking kill him, then?”
Chan holds direct eye contact as he lifts his hand to his mouth, licking the cum from between his thumb and pointer. “No.”
Minho’s eyes widen in shock, then relief, then disgust. “You’re a bastard.”
Chan shrugs. He’s been called much worse. “I need you to go upstairs and get Felix some clothes. His old ones have been…ruined and now he’s too embarrassed to get out of the car.”
Minho shudders, lifting his hand. “Please, spare me the details.”
Chan grins. “You asked.”
“No, I definitely, definitely didn’t.”
Minho flees into the elevator before Chan can torture him more. Chan turns on his heel and hurries back to the car. Felix is right where he left him, sprawled out in the backseat. He looks half-asleep, eyelids drooping. He smiles when he sees Chan. It makes Chan feel giddier than it should, but Felix is looking at him and smiling.
“You came back.”
Chan scoots up close to him. “Of course.”
“Thought—I thought for a moment it was all a dream but,” Felix chuckles, “my ass hurts.”
Chan frowns as he rubs his side. “I’m sorry.”
Felix shakes his head and then he’s slumping forward, bedding his head on Chan’s thigh. Chan doesn’t hesitate to touch him. It’s addicting, quite honestly. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to stop touching Felix ever again.
His beautiful, beautiful husband all but purrs when Chan starts stroking his hair. “Chan?”
“Yes, angel?”
“Did you mean what you said?”
“Yes.” Chan doesn’t know what Felix is referring to exactly, but he did mean every single thing he’s said inside this car tonight.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you ask for me? You said it was you who arranged our marriage but…we didn’t even know each other when my father told me I was engaged. So, why me? How did you even know me?”
Chan smiles. “I saw you.”
Felix frowns, clearly trying to remember whether he ever saw Chan. “At a party?”
“No, at Changbin’s house.”
Sometimes, Chan wonders what would have happened if he hadn’t visited Changbin that day. If he hadn’t felt an itch in his throat and gone down to the kitchen to get himself some water. If he hadn’t passed by the living room where Felix had been sitting with Changbin’s little stalker husband.
In retrospect, Chan likes to believe it was fate.
He can’t remember how long he stood there, entranced. He only knows that he didn’t visit the kitchen that day. He went right back to Changbin’s office.
“Who is he?”
“Huh?” Changbin looked up at him from the mountain of papers strewn all over his desk.
Chan clacked his tongue in annoyance. He raised his hand to his forehead. “Blond, this tall, freckles, currently getting petted by your husband. Who is he?”
Changbin perked. “Oh, Felix? Jinnie must have invited him over. They’re best friends.”
“Your husband has friends?”
Changbin scowled at him. “Just because Jinnie has a special interest doesn’t mean he can’t have friends.”
Chan would call Hyunjin’s obsession with his poor friend a little more than a ‘special interest’ but, really, who was he to judge? He had bigger things to worry about anyway.
“What’s Felix’s last name?”
It was then, and only then, that Changbin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why do you want to know?”
Chan smiled then and he smiles now. “I saw you once at Changbin’s and I just knew.”
Felix frowns. “You just saw me once and decided you wanted to marry me?”
“Once was more than enough. I knew that you were the one for me.”
In the end, it was easy. Chan saw something he wanted and so he got it. That Felix ended up being the best thing in his life is just a side effect. That he’s helplessly in love with him was inevitable.
Felix hums. He takes a hold of Chan’s hands and thumbs at his ring before aligning it with his own. He looks so happy like this. Chan can’t believe he might be the reason.
Felix’s next words come out so quietly Chan nearly misses them, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Felix blinks up at him and in his eyes lies everything Chan has ever hoped for. “For seeing me.” He smiles and it’s real. “I think you were made for me too.”