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Illicitly Faithful


“Tell me, Chris,” Hyunjin repeats himself in English and continues in Korean. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Chan takes a slow, measured breath and makes sure that Hyunjin can feel the weight of his gaze on every single point of his body.

“What I want from you,” Chan tells the omega lowly, “is to let me find out what sort of pretty little things you might be wearing under your clothes.”



As you guys might know, I'm on break for like, 2 weeks, and I wanna get out as many stories as I can bc I've been crazy inspired lately ( ˘⌣˘)♡(˘⌣˘ )

This is my first time writing HyunChan as the main ship, so do let me know if I did them justice, or if you liked it, or hated it, or whatever, really, in the comments (´꒳`)♡

Hope you all are staying safe, happy, and healthy!

All my love,

Work Text:

“Don’t do it,” Jackson murmurs as he hands Chan a glass of sparkly pink champagne. “Don’t fucking do it, Chris.”

Chan takes the glass with a distracted thanks, sprawled back on the delicate Tiffany chair that was hurting his ass to sit in. For a high-end luxury brand that was launching their new summer collection on a small, private Greek island that Chan had already forgotten the name of, he sorely wishes that they’d picked out a set of chairs that were as comfy as they were pretty.

“Chris,” Jackson hisses from his side, face set in a polite smile all the while, knocking his knee against Chan’s pointedly. “Don’t do it, man. I know you’ve worked with him before so you already know what a bad fucking idea it is. Don’t do it.”

“But he’s so fucking pretty,” Chan mumbles around the rim of his champagne flute, eyes on the prettiest omega in this whole damned party. “Think of how much prettier he’ll look once I’ve gotten my hands on him, hm?”

Jackson gives up. Chan hides a smile because he knows Jackson is going to give him a lecture in three, two–

“Alright, that’s it, gimme that shit,” the older alpha mutters, taking the champagne away from Chan and setting the glass down on the lace-covered table. It’s hot out here, so close to the ocean, but it reminds Chan of home. Jackson physically turns Chan to the side to give him his most serious look. Chan bites back a giggle because Jackson is still smiling with his mouth.

“You,” Jackson pokes Chan in the chest with a black painted finger, “are here for work. You got an exclusive invitation to represent your company and your work because you somehow managed to impress Donatella Versace’s fucking grandniece with your slutty little Lolla performance and this is a great opportunity for you to network and build up even more connections.”

“I can network and look at the prettiest omega on this side of the planet at the same time, can’t I?” Chan vocalizes his earlier thoughts. It’s rare that Jackson has to play the part of the functioning brain cell when they’re together, and Chan is going to milk this opportunity for all it’s worth.

“There is press here, you dumbass,” Jackson glares at him with just his eyes while his mouth stays in a casual smile. “And I can’t believe that I have to be the one to remind you this, but don’t you have an omega waiting for you back in Seoul?”

Chan rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, in Seoul,” Chan points out with a raised brow. “Dunno how you missed it, Jacks, but we’re in fucking Greece right now.”

“I cannot believe,” Jackson breathes, “that I’m going to have to be the one to lecture you about how fucking gross what you’re about to d– are you even listeni– Jesus fucking Christ– “  

Chan lights up when the omega he’d been eyeing this whole time catches his eye through the crowd. He automatically straightens up and flashes the omega his most charming smile, making sure that his dimples tease in and out.

The omega flushes, and Chan almost expects him to look away, but to his pleasant surprise, the omega actually smiles back and raises a hand in a shy little wave. Chan gets up from his seat, abandoning a politely fuming Jackson and his champagne, adjusts his blazer so that it frames his bare chest perfectly, and makes his way across the emerald lawn, weaving in between the colorfully dressed people casually drinking and talking and milling about.

The omega is with one of his handler’s and Chan can see the disbelief on the handler’s face when he sees Chan approaching. The omega stubbornly keeps his eyes on Chan, his expression not changing even as his handler ducks down to whisper something in his ear.

Chan holds back a smirk when the omega gently shakes off his handler’s arm and walks away from him, meeting Chan halfway. Chan can feel multiple eyes on them, see the flashes of scattered cameras in his peripherals competing with the glare of the sun, but he only has eyes for the stunning omega in front of him.

They’re both Korean and Jackson was right when he said that Chan knew just what type of omega this man was. They ran in the same circles even if their reputations were so different, but Chan wants to give the unsubtle onlookers something interesting to talk about.

So, instead of going for a bow, Chan holds out his hand for the omega. The omega’s smile widens, cheeks pinking as he demurely places his hand in Chan’s. Chan looks at the omega as he bends his head and brings up his delicate, long-fingered hand in tandem and presses his lips to the smooth back of his hand.

The omega’s smile turns into a grin at Chan’s gesture, his eyes curving up into the sweetest crescents, the skin at the corners crinkling with happiness and Chan once again understands just why this omega’s legions of fans are fond of calling him their dumpling.

Hi,” Chan greets, lowering the omega’s hand but not letting go until he’s forced to. “I’m Chris.”

The omega giggles, covering his lovely mouth with the hand that wasn’t in Chan’s, tangling their fingers together for a brief second and squeezing before letting go.

“I know, hyung,” the omega says, clearly delighted by Chan’s little display. “You've been credited in my albums for three years in a row.”

Chan finally lets his own grin take over his face.

“You’re not gonna play along even for a second?” Chan asks. The omega snorts but shakes his head.

“Fine,” he sighs, dark eyes twinkling. “Hi, Chris,” he responds in sweetly accented English. “I’m Hyunjin. It’s so nice to meet you.”

Nice to meet you,” Chan stresses on the last word, giving the taller omega a very blatant once over, from his soft, black hair framing his beautiful face to the brown leather sandals and pedicured toes peeking out from under the loose beige linen of his trousers.

“Hyung,” Hyunjin whines, flushing but not shying away from Chan’s eyes. “Stop that.”

“You don’t walk into a museum and not look at the art do you, sweetness?” Chan says and Hyunjin’s flush travels down his face to his neck, and even the peek of his chest visible under the open collar of his flowy linen shirt that matches his pants goes the softest shade of pink.

It’s a shame that he’s wearing a scent blocker because Chan just knows that Hyunjin’s scent would be even sweeter.

“Incorrigible,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes but imperiously holds a hand out. Chan takes it with a triumphant smirk, aware of all the eyes on them, grateful that he can get away with all the flirting since only a handful of people at this party could speak their native language.

(Chan can almost feel the daggers Jackson is glaring into his back. Chan can actually see the horrified stare Hyunjin’s handler is aiming at the both of them.)

“Buy me a drink, Bahng PD-nim,” the omega says, fluttering his lashes at Chan.

Chan grins – it's an open bar, so Hyunjin’s invitation is transparent – and happily nods, smugly leading the taller omega with him towards the pool area where the bar is set up, internally crowing at the envious stares slipping over his skin because he’s got Versace’s Prince right where he wants him.

Hyunjin lets Chan order for him, a lush wine that he knows the omega would love. Chan gets himself a Heineken poured into a glass and turns in the little stool – seriously, couldn’t they have sprung for more comfortable seating? – to face Hyunjin who's already tilted his way, one long leg slung over the other, holding his own glass.

They both clink their glasses and take a sip of their drinks. Hyunjin swirls the deep red liquid in his glass, long fingers holding onto the stem delicately, and Chan shamelessly drinks in the vision that's Hwang Hyunjin sitting a foot away from him, all of his attention on Chan.

The mid-afternoon sun is high above them, and the air is muggy with the heat. Chan can almost taste the salt of the ocean on his tongue with how close to the beach this little retreat is. He can see the panoramic view of the ocean adjacent to Hyunjin, the water a bright, cerulean blue, the sky matching in hue, but Chan thinks that not even the ocean can compete with the effortless beauty of the omega in front of Chan.

“Your manager,” Chan starts conversationally, sticking to Korean. “He’s new, isn’t he?”

Hyunjin’s plush pink lips curl up in a smile as he nods, lifting his glass to his mouth.

“What did he tell you when he saw me coming your way?” Chan asks curiously, taking a sip of his own beer. Hyunjin rolls his eyes but there’s no malice in it. The flush doesn’t recede from his cheeks as he looks Chan straight in the eyes and tells him,

“Hwanchul hyung told me that I should be careful. Said that alpha’s like you are bad for the heart as much as a reputation.”

The leg Hyunjin had crossed over brushes against the outside of Chan’s knee. Chan doesn’t look at it, but he pushes his leg into the touch, knowing that it wasn’t an accident. Hyunjin’s mouth turns up at the corners even more.

“He also told me,” Hyunjin tilts his head, shifting his shoulders so that the open collar of his shirt shows even more of his tan skin glistening under a thin layer of sweat, “that rumor has it you actually have an omega waiting for you back in Seoul. Is that true, hyungie? Are you a spoken-for alpha?”

Chan drains his beer, never once looking away from Hyunjin who keeps his ankle pressed against Chan’s knee.

“Maybe,” Chan shrugs after he places his empty glass back on the bar top. “Does that change things for you, Hyunjin-ah? Because rumor has it that you have an alpha you’ve been keeping secret for quite a while, too. Do you?”

“Maybe,” Hyunjin echoes Chan, eyes dipping to Chan’s mouth and back up again. The omega doesn’t even do it fast, he doesn’t try to be discreet. He’s open with his illicit desire and Chan can feel the way his pants get a little tight at the action.

“Does that change things for you?” Hyunjin returns his own question, curious.

Chan eyes Hyunjin’s mouth, wine-stained and plush. The dip of his chest, soft and a little shiny, the three golden chains sticking to the skin. His long fingers wrapped around the stem of his half-full wine glass.

“No,” Chan wets his lips, looking right back at Hyunjin. “It doesn’t change things for me.”

Hyunjin’s smile at Chan’s words is one he’s seen plenty of times on billboards and big screens and award shows, a little dangerous, a little demonic. Temptation of the worst kind.

“What do you want from me, hyung-ah?” Hyunjin purrs, subtly moving his foot that was against Chan’s ankle and it shouldn’t be erotic, it really shouldn’t, because they're both out in the open summer heat, hundreds of eyes and dozens of lenses on them, but Chan–

Chan knows his strengths as well as he knows his weaknesses. That’s what gave him the edge to create his own entertainment empire from the ground up when nobody else believed that he could and have it be a successful investment that gave him a return tenfold. It paid to know when you were the best man for the job and it paid twice as much to acknowledge it when someone else was.

He’d made more money than what he knew to do with by taking the advice of his closest friends and family when he struggled because a relentless ego was the root of downfall, so, yes. Chan knew his strengths but he also knew his weaknesses.

And pretty omega’s willing to throw away their principles and shatter a few rules to get on their knees for him was perhaps one of his biggest shortcomings.

And when the pretty omega in question is Hwang Hyunjin? Chan had lost even before he knew he was playing.

Tell me, Chris,” Hyunjin repeats himself in English, and continues in Korean. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Chan takes a slow, measured breath and makes sure that Hyunjin can feel the weight of his gaze on every single point of his body.

“What I want from you,” Chan tells the omega lowly, “is to let me find out what sort of pretty little things you might be wearing under your clothes.”

Hyunjin sucks in a gasp, eyes darkening. Chan sees how his pedicured toes curl in his brown leather sandals on the leg pressed up against Chan’s knee. When Hyunjin places his almost empty glass of wine back on the country top, his hand is trembling just a little.

“What else?” Hyunjin asks huskily.

“Want to see if your pussy is the same color as your mouth, sweetheart,” Chan says and Hyunjin straightens up, uncrossing his legs to squeeze his thighs together, pupils blown even under the sun. Chan bites his lip and tilts his head. “Is it?”

Hyunjin gracefully gets off his seat but Chan stays put. The ball was in the omega’s court and Chan would follow where Hyunjin led. Hyunjin makes his way past Chan but stops for a moment, placing his hand on Chan’s chest. His fingertips tease the edges of the thin, designer blazer Chan had on – the only thing Chan had on – and he dips his head to whisper in Chan’s ear.

“You know where I’m staying, Channie hyung,” Hyunjin murmurs, lips brushing against the lobe of Chan’s ear. “Come over and find out for yourself. Maybe you can even tell me if my pussy is tighter than your omega’s, too, hm?”

Hyunjin glides away, tall and slender and every alpha’s walking wet dream. Chan spins around in his stool to watch the delicate sway of the omega’s hips, blindly reaching out and snagging Hyunjin’s leftover wine.

Chan drinks the wine like he drinks in Hyunjin’s retreating figure and amusedly thinks of a one-liner he never thought he would ever find himself relating to.

Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave indeed.


“You can still back out,” Jackson tells him while they wait with security for their drivers to pick them up. “Chris, c’mon man, don’t do this. You’re better than this.”

Chan adjusts his blazer and glances at Jackson from the corner of his eye. It's late in the afternoon but not quite sunset yet, and Chan was praying that he’d get to Hyunjin’s before the sun dipped over the horizon because he wanted to fuck the omega over the cute balcony in the suite Versace had rented out for Hyunjin.

“He has an alpha,” Jackson tries. Chan shrugs and gives Jackson a pitying smile.

“That he doesn’t talk about,” Chan points out. Jackson is flushed more with frustration than the Grecian summer heat or the alcohol they had consumed.  

“And you,” Jackson quietly seethes, “have an omega that you never talk about with anyone, not even to me.”

“Because I’m a possessive fuck, Jacks,” Chan says honestly. Jackson closes his eyes and if Chan could smell him, he knows that the older alpha’s scent would be soured with agitation.  

“Chris,” Jackson sounds pained when he looks at Chan. “I love you, man, you’re one of my best friends. But I can’t even look at you right now because of what you’re about to do.”

“I know,” Chan says understandingly. Sometimes loving someone meant that you let them get away with the most heinous shit. Turning a blind eye to indiscretions and infidelities that could bring down multiple lives. “And that’s why you’re one of my best friends too.”

Jackson’s shoulders slump in defeat. They spend the next three minutes in a gloomy silence on Jackson’s part and an anticipatory one on Chan’s. Chan’s vehicle pulls up around the expansive driveway first. He goes to bid his goodbyes to Jackson but the older alpha beats him to it.

“Just,” Jackson sighs, expression conflicted. “Don’t get caught, okay? Both of you. You’ll recover but he won’t. You know he won’t.”

“We’ll be careful,” Chan promises Jackson, fondness bubbling up in his heart. It’s sweet of Jackson to worry about the omega he knows through greenrooms and company parties and only tangentially. Chan makes a mental note to bring it up to Hyunjin after he’d had his fill of the younger man.

“Don’t ruin him, Chris,” is Jackson’s last warning to Chan. “You were never selfish to begin with so don’t start now.”

Hyunjin’s handler is extremely displeased with the turn of events and makes no effort to hide it. Chan has to stop himself from bursting into amused giggles, tickled at the whole situation as the handler sullenly leads Chan up to the highest floor of the bougie boutique hotel Versace had set up Hyunjin in.

The elevator ride is fraught with tension, Hyunjin’s handler shooting Chan dirty glances, but Chan pays him no mind, already looking forwards to getting his knot wet by sticking it in one of the world’s most eligible omega’s.  

Chan almost expects the handler to remain quiet throughout, but after he had knocked thrice on Hyunjin’s door, he takes the maybe ten seconds they have left until Hyunjin opens it and invites Chan in to lowly tell him,

“He has an alpha, Bahng Chan-ssi.”

Chan tamps down on his smile and keeps his expression lax as he shrugs, hands in his pockets, insolent when he replies, “and I have an omega,” just as the door opens and Hyunjin’s suddenly beaming at him. Chan grins back, raking an appreciative glance over the omega’s body that's covered by a white silk robe from his neck to his wrists and ankles, excited to see what he had on underneath.

Hyunjin lowers his eyes when he addresses his manager, ears tinting red, voice hushed as he speaks.

“Thank you so much, Hwanchullie hyung,” Hyunjin says sweetly. He reaches out for Chan and snags him by the wrist, tugging him over the threshold and into the room. “I’ll call you when I need you to walk Bahng PD-nim out, okay?”

The reminder of Chan’s title and relation to Hyunjin has the omega’s handler looking away in resignment, but he bows in quiet acquiescence. Hyunjin thanks him again before he pulls Chan inside and closes the door behind them, finally ensconcing themselves into their own private space.

Chan smiles up at the gorgeous omega and reels him in with a hand on his waist. Hyunjin stumbles into his touch, giggly and flushed, high on the illicitness of their rendezvous.

“Hello, sweetness,” Chan murmurs and Hyunjin slings his arms around Chan’s shoulders, tipping closer to leave a chaste little kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Hi, Channie hyung,” Hyunjin says, pulling back. His entire body is flush down the front of Chan’s and Chan can feel how it’s affecting him. “D’you want something to drink?”

“Mm,” Chan hums, sliding his hands around Hyunjin’s waist to his lower back, dipping down some more to touch the omega’s perky little ass over the silk of his white robe. “Got anything non-alcoholic for me?”

Hyunjin nods, allows Chan to fondle his behind for two seconds, and slips out of Chan’s arms like tendrils of water through river reeds. Chan groans while Hyunjin laughs at him, but Chan shuts up when the omega throws a coy look over his shoulder as he makes his way over to the little kitchenette in his suite, dropping his robe as he walks away.

Fuuuck,” Chan hisses, cock fattening up in record time as he greedily drinks in the miles upon miles of tan skin his eyes are suddenly blessed with, the only item of clothing on Hyunjin being a tiny scrap of white lace that sits snug around his hips, a little strip of it disappearing between his asscheeks.

Hyunjin barely even spares him a glance, comfortable in his own skin as he pours them both something into two glasses from a carton that he’d left out on the kitchen island. There are fruit baskets and flower arrangements teeming on the marble surface of the island, and Chan recognizes the one he himself had placed an order for a few weeks ago so that Hyunjin would receive it once he landed in Greece yesterday.

“C’mon, hyung,” Hyunjin beckons him with two full glasses and a sweet smile. “It’s a nice evening to watch the sunset, no?”

Chan is helpless to the smile that blooms on his face, and he carelessly drops his own blazer onto the ground – he can almost feel his stylist’s wrath continents away – kicks off his loafers, and follows Hyunjin out the double doors to the terrace facing the Ionian Sea in just his loose black trousers.

Hyunjin’s already sprawled out in one of the loungers set up on the charming balcony, legs spread on either side, watching Chan with dark eyes and a clear invitation. He had set their two glasses down on the terracotta floor and Chan obediently sits down on the space between the omega’s thighs, one of his own legs tucked under himself, facing Hyunjin.  

Hyunjin’s smile is pleased and while he reaches down to get Chan’s glass, Chan unashamedly looks at the apex of Hyunjin’s thighs, the white lace already a little damp and translucent over where his cunt is wet.

“Here,” Hyunjin murmurs and Chan takes the proffered glass with a ‘thank you’, the cool condensation doing nothing to combat the fire growing in his veins. Hyunjin brings up his own glass and it isn’t until Chan had taken a careless sip of his own, eyes flicking between the omega’s face and his lace-covered pussy, does he register the taste.

“You remembered?” Chan asks with a raised brow.

“Hard not to,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, bringing up a long, slender leg to poke Chan’s tummy with his big toe, “when it was the only thing that I didn’t have to force down your throat whenever we had to put in overtime at the studio.”

Chan chuckles, sipping on the pineapple-cranberry mix Hyunjin had made for him.

“You’ve done well, Hyunjin-ah,” Chan tells the omega genuinely because he had. “I’m proud of you, darling.”

Hyunjin’s eyes soften as he gets more comfortable on the lounger, settling both his feet on Chan’s lap.

“Even if I’m letting the producer who got me three Daesangs for three albums in a row within three years fuck me?” Hyunjin teases.

Chan smiles, crooked and amused, curling a hand over the bone of one of Hyunjin’s deceptively delicate ankles.

“You didn’t fuck the entire South Korean entertainment industry to get to where you are,” Chan shrugs and Hyunjin rolls his eyes, taking tiny little sips of his own pineapple-cranberry. “Though you could have,” Chan adds cheekily.

Hyunjin presses the ball of his foot right over Chan’s half-hard dick in warning. Chan hisses out an apology and Hyunjin’s foot retreats, a lazy smirk on his full lips.

They trade idle conversation as they finish their drinks. Nothing too personal, nothing too close to home. The air around them is charged, heavy with their combined arousal, and Chan can’t wait until they’ve both sweated off their blockers.

Chan finishes off his drink first. Sets it down on the ground and watches Hyunjin take languid sips of his own. The sun is about to set but Chan can feel the warmth of it beating down over his naked shoulders. It has nothing on how it makes Hyunjin look like a fallen angel in front of him, leisurely lounging under Chan’s gaze, long dark hair soft and framing a face that could have started wars had he been born in the time of gods.

Hyunjin is all long limbs and lithe muscle hiding a strength that not many would guess was contained within. The omega is a walking contradiction in the broadness of his shoulders and the sculpted musculature of his arms against the softness of his mouth and the tantalizing curve of his pussy.

Hyunjin is everything Chan wants but shouldn’t have, but here he is anyway, taking what isn't his.

Chan is patient as he waits for Hyunjin to be done with his drink, setting the empty glass down next to Chan’s. The omega rewards Chan for his fortitude by offering him a wicked little smirk and bringing up his slender legs to splay his thighs open.

“Here, hyung,” Hyunjin croons, patting his lace-covered cunt. “I know you’ve been gagging for it, so won’t you come and taste me now?”

Grace is the last thing on Chan’s mind as he situates himself which gives him the optimum range of movement to finally, finally, get his mouth on Hyunjin’s pussy. Hyunjin giggles as Chan lowers himself onto his belly, threading his nimble fingers into Chan’s hair and guiding his face to the sweetness between his legs.

Chan gets a grip on the insides of Hyunjin’s pale thighs and takes a moment to breathe in the musky sweetness of the omega’s pussy, muted through the white lace of his panties. Hyunjin lets out a breathy moan when Chan flattens his tongue over the wettest part of the lace and drags it up, up, up, letting the omega’s slick coat his tastebuds.

“Oh, hyung,” Hyunjin breathes when Chan sucks the lace into his mouth, greedily chasing more of that sweetness, wanting to drag this out for as long as he can. They're both on borrowed time, but Chan just wants to prolong it as much as fate is willing to allow him to.

Chan presses his fingers into fading bruises in the shape of a mouth littered on the insides of Hyunjin’s thighs and sloppily licks at the omega’s cunt through his now thoroughly ruined panties. Hyunjin smells like frangipani and vanilla, intoxicating and rose-tinged like a hazy dream on a warm summer night.

But more than that, Hyunjin smells so goddamned fucking fertile that Chan just knows that his heat is definitely around the corner, two or three days at most.

Suddenly impatient, Chan hooks a finger on the side of the wet, translucent lace and tugs it to the side, exposing what he’d been after all this time to his greedy, greedy eyes. Chan groans as he sees Hyunjin’s pussy, just as pretty as the rest of him.

He’s waxed save for a tiny thatch of hair at the very top, trimmed into a cute little heart that is so goddamned endearing and so Hyunjin Chan wants to scream. Hyunjin’s labia is puffy and swollen with arousal, and Chan tenderly presses the fat lips apart to see how wet and pink and leaking the omega is for him, spread out under the waning sun on a balcony on an island in Greece.

“Channie hyung,” Hyunjin whines, impatiently tugging at Chan’s curls. “Please.”

“Just as pretty as your mouth,” Chan murmurs, lowering his face back to Hyunjin’s pussy, glancing up at the omega from between his spread legs, up the long line of his gorgeous body. Hyunjin’s biting his lip, his golden necklaces sticking to his chest with sweat, and Chan ignores the one with the diamond ring threaded through.

“Just as fucking pink too,” Chan tells him and Hyunjin licks his lower lip before sucking it in and letting it pop out, slick and indented.

“It’ll look prettier with your cum dripping out of it,” Hyunjin says and Chan’s cock twitches in the confines of his pants.


“Hyunjin-ah, I can smell your heat– it’s too risky– “

“Please, Channie hyung,” Hyunjin begs him, doe-eyed and pouty, fingers still in Chan’s curls. “Want it from you. Just you, please– “

Chan isn’t convinced even if he knows that he’s fighting a losing battle. Still, he should at least try to convince Hyunjin otherwise because it's a risk, a huge risk, and the last thing Chan wants is to be the catalyst to Jackson’s warning: he’d be damned before he ruins Hyunjin.

“What about– “

“I want it,” Hyunjin says firmly, brows furrowing. “It’s my body, not anyone else’s. And I want it and I know you want it too so stop martyring yourself for once in your life and fuck me raw and put us both out of our misery.”

Chan raises a brow at that. Hyunjin glares down at him and Chan lets out a breathe before he shrugs.

If Hyunjin wants to get fucked raw and is willing to handle the risk of getting fucked raw so close to his heat, so be it. He's right, after all. It is ultimately Hyunjin’s decision and Chan's simply here to get his dick wet.

“Okay,” Chan agrees and looks back down at Hyunjin’s slick-pink pussy. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a pretty fucking pussy in his life and it makes sense that it's Hyunjin who's the owner of such a pussy.

Hyunjin’s ire at Chan disappears the moment Chan gets his mouth back on his cunt. He flexes his fingers on the insides of Hyunjin’s thighs and groans in satisfaction as the omega’s slick soaks his tongue again. Chan licks fat, broad strokes up the length of Hyunjin’s pussy, the lace crotch of his panties pushed to a side, lapping at his clit.

Hyunjin’s cunt is so fucking juicy and fat that Chan soon has to abandon the hold he had on the omega’s thighs to press open Hyunjin’s vulva to spread him wider. Hyunjin arches into Chan’s mouth, gripping at his curls, moans tumbling out into the humid summer air around them as Chan makes a feast out of the omega’s pussy.

Chan licks between his slit, suckles on his clit, gently pushes his tongue inside of his clenching, leaking hole, and does it again and again and again, drunk on the sweetness of Hyunjin’s cunt and the sound of his breathless moans, the lower half of his face getting messy with spit and slick. When Hyunjin suddenly spasms, spine arching and his grip on Chan’s curls turning stinging, his walls trapping Chan’s tongue inside of their velvety heat, Chan’s completely taken off guard.

Hyunjin moans high and pleasured as he rides the crest of his first orgasm as Chan doubles down and licks him through it, relishing in the thick gushes of slick dripping onto his tongue, swallowing the musky sweetness greedily like a parched man faced with a desert puddle.

Hyunjin slumps back in the lounger and sluggishly pushes Chan’s head away from his pulsating pussy, and Chan sits up with a parting kiss to the little patch of pubic hair trimmed to the shape of a heart, smug.

Chan keeps his hands on Hyunjin’s thighs, stroking the muscle heavily and firmly as the omega's legs tremble in the aftershocks, smiling down at Hyunjin who looks relaxed and satiated under him.

“Good?” Chan asks him unnecessarily and fully for the ego boost, but Hyunjin humors him anyway.

“The best,” the omega coos and Chan grins, helplessly fond.

When Hyunjin clumsily pushes down the waistband of his thin lace panties, Chan helps him get his long legs through the holes until he’s completely naked. Hyunjin blushes furiously when Chan cheekily brings up the ruined panties to his face and sniffs it, laughing as Hyunjin calls him an animal for it. The omega looks inordinately pleased when Chan pockets his panties, and Chan steadies the younger man when he starts to get to his feet.

Hyunjin wraps around Chan like a vine around a trellis, completely and confidently. Chan holds the omega close and when Hyunjin kisses him, they both moan at the heavy taste of slick on Chan’s tongue. Chan’s erection presses up against the flat of Hyunjin’s naked belly, trapped behind the linen of his trousers, and when the younger omega sultrily whispers into Chan’s ear that he wants Chan to fuck him over the balcony while they watched the sunset, Chan has to pull away to look at Hyunjin in disbelief.

How did you even– “

“I’ve been writing my songs with you for how long now, PD-nim?” Hyunjin asks mischievously. “Your fantasies end up on the notebooks you leave around your studio,” the omega shrugs as Chan flushes. “You already know I’m nosy as fuck so really, you only have yourself to blame.”

Before Chan can even begin to defend himself, Hyunjin drags him over to the edge of the balcony and folds his arm over the flat ledge, bending over and putting his ass on display. His spine dips beautifully and Hyunjin arches down a little more until Chan can see the split-seam of his pink pussy and the barest glimpse of his asshole between his cheeks.

Chan leisurely unbuttons his trousers, eyes on the dripping cunt between Hyunjin’s slender thighs, and slowly lowers his zipper. Hyunjin’s facing the Ionian Sea, the sun fat and heavy and red-gold over the horizon, the clouds all cotton candy pink and purple, gulls in motion dotting the watercolor sky.

“Want you to fuck me just like this,” Hyunjin says, not even looking back at Chan, eyes on the ocean. “Don’t want you to finger me, okay, hyung?” At that, Hyunjin glances back for just a moment before turning back to the sea and the setting sun. “Wanna feel you when I go home.”

Chan hums a sound of agreement and gives his cock a quick few strokes, just to get himself wet with his precum. He doesn’t step out of his pants as he walks over to Hyunjin and lays a hand on his hip, gently nudging apart his feet a little more. Hyunjin lets his head hang low as Chan cups his pussy from behind to gather the omega’s slick and rubs it over his cock to wet it some more for good measure.  

Hyunjin gasps when Chan notches the head of his cock against the entrance of his cunt, and he moans, low and a little pained, gripping the railing with his slender fingers when Chan bites his lip and slowly, slowly pushes himself in.

Chan groans at how fucking tight Hyunjin is, warm and wet and slick, his inner walls rippling and parting for Chan’s cock to find its place, and they both have to take a moment to just breathe once Chan’s fully seated inside of Hyunjin, the alpha bowed over the omega’s back.

Chan kisses Hyunjin’s nape, the tops of his shoulders, the side of his neck, and when Hyunjin tremblingly turns his head to catch Chan’s mouth with his own, Chan can taste the salt of the younger omega’s tears on his lips.

Chan wraps both of his arms around Hyunjin’s small but strong waist, splaying a hand over his lower belly and dragging the other one up to his chest and tweak a pebbled nipple. He holds himself still as they kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and Chan tries to be subtle about it when he quickly takes his hand away from the top of Hyunjin’s chest the moment his fingers brush against the diamond ring hung on one of his golden chains.

“C’mon, Chan,” Hyunjin mumbles into his mouth. “Fuck me like you love me.”

Chan nips Hyunjin’s lips in reprimand at the reminder but obeys, skin sliding against skin, sweat, and the Grecian sunset drenching them in liquid gold as Chan starts to fuck into Hyunjin’s cunt painstakingly slowly.

Hyunjin’s tight, he’s so goddamned fucking tight and the way he whimpers into Chan’s mouth is addicting, holding himself up on the balcony railing, the Greek coastline white-gold while the ocean turned pink under the setting sun.

Chan’s loathe to let go of Hyunjin but he knows that Hyunjin needs him to fuck him a certain way, so, with great effort, he pulls away from the omega until just his cock is inside of his cunt and Chan’s hands are on his hips.

“You are,” Chan says quietly and Hyunjin makes a confused noise.

“Tightest cunt I’ve ever fucked, sweetness,” Chan shares and before Hyunjin can respond, he sets up a brutal pace as he fucks into the younger omega like an animal at the peak of a cycle, their end-goal simple yet powerful: to breed.

Hyunjin cries out with Chan’s ruthless thrusts, and Chan’s gasping and moaning in tandem because Hyunjin feels so, so ridiculously good around his cock, slick squelching between their skin, the sound of their coupling filthy and lewd and louder than the ocean or the gulls.

Hyunjin scrabbles at the railing, sobbing and sweating, begging Chan to fuck him harder, to fuck him pregnant, and Chan tumbles closer and closer to the edge of his own peak the longer he thinks about the gorgeous omega under him with a swollen belly, full with a pup that Chan had fucked into him.

Hyunjin cums again, clit untouched, and when he squeezes down on Chan’s cock, vice-tight and slick-hot, Chan’s own orgasm crashes over him like a wave and he keens as he folds over Hyunjin, hips rutting into him mindlessly, filling him up with Chan’s release.

Hyunjin moans lowly, slumping over the railing while Chan pumps him full of cum, and because Chan only knots during his rut which leaves him with the luxury of pulling out the moment that he's done cumming, Chan falls to his knees and pushes up one of Hyunjin’s legs to rest on the edge of the balcony and fits his mouth to the omega’s cunt.

The younger man wails as Chan sucks out his seed from Hyunjin’s fever-hot pussy, swollen and sated, Chan’s own cock lying limp and soft over the lap of his no doubt ruined trousers. Chan only lets Hyunjin go once he’s cleaned out the younger omega with his tongue and four of his fingers stuffed up the soft give of his drenched pussy.

Chan’s knees give a crackly little pop as he stands up, but he barely hears or feels it because Hyunjin shakily gets himself upright, swaying right into Chan’s arms like a sprig of larkspur bending against the wind.

Chan smiles, endeared and adoring, catching Hyunjin in his arms. Hyunjin puts all of his weight on Chan, nuzzling under his neck, a happy little purr starting up in the younger man’s chest. Chan feels an immense amount of pride at Hyunjin’s purring because omega’s only ever purred when they're truly comfortable and feel safe, and that Hyunjin's purring in Chan’s arms was just–

“Think you fucked me into jelly, Channie hyung,” Hyunjin mumbles into Chan’s neck, the sun hidden behind the horizon, the sky going from lavender to violet to indigo.

“Do you want hyung to say sorry, sweetness?” Chan gently teases the sweet omega in his arms who keeps purring and trying to climb Chan like a particularly short tree. Chan laughs as he bends a little to pick Hyunjin up, the omega immediately wrapping his long legs around Chan’s waist, crossing his ankles at the small of Chan’s back.

“No,” Hyunjin sighs happily, his scent finally leaking out over the blockers with how hard he’d sweated, mingling with traces of Chan’s own. “Don’t need you to say sorry. J’s carry me to the bath, okay?”

Chan shakes his head fondly and kisses the younger omega’s shoulder, finally turning away from the ocean that had borne witness to their illicit coupling, walking towards the double doors that would lead them back into Hyunjin’s suite and his bath, just as Hyunjin commanded.

Hyunjin sinks down on Chan’s cock and languidly rides him in the tub, the pink-gold-tinged bubbles from a bath bomb sloshing around them and leaving streaks of the same color on their skin. Chan holds onto Hyunjin’s hips, watching the curve of the omega’s spine as he undulates his tight little pussy on Chan’s cock, head thrown back and holding onto the edges of the tub.

They order room service and feed each other apricots and nectarines, smearing heavy cream on slices of peaches, giggling between bites and kisses, naked and surrounded by white silk sheets. Chan gets pushed onto his back on the bed and watches as Hyunjin drizzles honey over his cock before swallowing him down whole. Hyunjin makes Chan cum like that, swaying his ass in the air behind him with two fingers buried in his cunt, blinking dark, siren eyes up at Chan and his sinful pink lips stretched around Chan’s girth.

They fuck and laugh and kiss and fuck and reminisce and fuck and pretend that the clock isn’t running out on them until the sun comes back up.

This will be the last time that they’ll be able to have this and they both know it, and Chan feels his own desperation mirrored in Hyunjin as he presses the younger omega into the tiles of the shower and takes him from behind, whispering in his ear about how beautiful he’ll look if Chan’s seed takes in his womb, recklessly tugging on the diamond ring looped through the golden chain around Hyunjin’s neck, the only item of jewelry the younger omega hadn’t removed.

They both know that everything will change for them the moment that they’re back in Seoul, that nothing will ever be the same, so they spend every spare second that Hyunjin’s handler takes to come fetch Chan curled around each other, kissing and touching whispering promises to each other that remains between them, not audible to even the walls surrounding them.

When Hwanchul knocks on the suite of Hyunjin’s door, Hyunjin walks Chan to the entryway. He fists the collar of Chan’s flowy pastel blue shirt, wrinkling the fabric incriminatingly as he kisses Chan breathless. Chan feels Hyunjin’s other hand slip into his pocket but he’s too busy trying to swallow his lover whole, that he only remembers to check it once he’s seated in the private airplane lounge waiting for one of his attendants to come collect him for his flight.  

Chan frowns as he touches something soft but coarse, but he immediately shoves it right back into his pocket the moment he catches a glimpse of white lace, flushing from the roots of his hair down to his toes.

His phone chimes with eerie timing and Chan quietly clears his throat and pulls it out, unlocking it and smiling once he sees the text waiting for him.

Hyunjin: Grecian sunsets have nothing on your smile
Hyunjin: see you around, lover


Chan has a meeting with his investors half an hour after he lands back in Seoul.

His assistant rattles off key points and data that Chan already has memorized and Chan curses his lack of foresight on giving both his main business partners time off. Yeah, they had their own shit to work around this week, and crazily enough, Chan's own schedule was the most flexible, but he still sulks about it all the way to the company until his assistant firmly tells him to fix his face before he scares his investors off.

“You should’ve stuck to performing if you were going to be such a baby about running your company, Bahng-ssi,” his assistant tells him, poison sweet.

“Stop bullying me,” Chan whines, taking the vitamin water she cracks open and passes over to him in the back of the limo. “I’m so fucking jetlagged, Soojin-ah, please be nice to me.”

“That’s above my paygrade,” Soojin tells him primly and Chan sucks it up and resigns himself to fighting away sleep during the meeting or risk getting Soojin’s pointy heel dug into his calf.

The meeting drags on till noon but it’s successful and much less headache-inducing than Chan anticipated it to be and then it’s a light lunch before Chan hits the studio, calling in his newest group to get a head start on their recordings. The girls are sweet, complimenting Chan on his tan and Chan thanks them, tired but pleased.

It’s past nine by the time his driver drops him off at the complex and the only reason Chan doesn’t crawl his way to the elevator is because in a few short minutes, he’ll be back home in his apartment with his favorite person in the whole wide world.

Chan walks out of the elevator and into the foyer, quietly kicking off his shoes and mentally thanking his staff for sending his luggage ahead. There’s soft music playing through the sound system and the delicious smell of home-cooked Korean food wafting in the air.

Chan pads through the living room, glancing out the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned an entire wall which had been the selling point of the apartment to Chan and his omega, flicking his eyes over the ever-present lights of Seoul twinkling up at them.

Chan finds his omega taking down their plates and cutlery from the overhead cabinet, stretched up on his toes, the tiny little shorts he's wearing barely covering his ass. Chan leans against the entrance of the kitchen, fondly watching the way his omega huffs as he takes down a pair of fancy glasses, the sleek muscles of his arms deliciously exposed in the tank top he had pilfered out of Chan’s own closet.

When his omega turns around and sees Chan, he startles so badly that his first reaction is to pick up one of the glasses he had just gotten down and raise it at Chan with a surprised yelp. Chan laughs at him, so, so fond and in love, and his omega whines, setting down the glass and leaning back against the counter, covering his face in one hand.

Why are you like this,” his omega complains as Chan crowds him against the counter, greedily sneaking his hands under the tank top to wrap them around his tiny waist. His omega huffs but hugs Chan back, melting into his hold and Chan finally feels as if he can breathe again.

He’s home and his omega’s home and he finally feels less like a helium balloon adrift in the sky and more like a ship securely anchored in the sea. His omega hums, rubbing his hands over Chan’s back, squeezing at the tense muscles and pulling away to give Chan a sympathetic look.

“Long day, huh?” he asks softly, dark eyes bright.

Such a long day,” Chan says, groaning a little when his omega digs his fingers into a particularly tough knot at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Long trip, long flight, long meetings. M’so tired, baby.”

“I know,” his omega says kindly, moving his hands from Chan’s shoulder to cup his face. Chan can’t help but smile when his omega brushes his thumbs under Chan’s eyes, a tiny spark of mischief dancing in his own.

“How was the trip?” he asks Chan. Chan’s smile gets dopier.

“It was great,” he answers. “Not because of the party but because I met someone there.”

Chan looks at his omega while his omega looks right back at him, a silent battle of wills taking place. Chan wins by a hairsbreadth because his omega is the first to break, giggling as he pulls Chan close with his hands on Chan’s face, chest against chest, thigh against thigh. Chan beams with his hands under his omega’s stolen top, skin against skin, warm and soft and wrapped around his little waist.

“Welcome home, lover,” Hyunjin whispers, and the kiss he pulls Chan into tastes like sunshine and peaches and the ocean, but it’s infinitely better because Chan is surrounded by his love and his home, the only true place he’ll ever belong.

Jackson: you sneaky fuck
Jackson: this is how you let me find out?
Jackson: through a fucking Dispatch article announcing a fucking five-year engagement between Fuck Boy Bahng Chahn and Versace’s Prince Hwang Hyunjin?
Jackson: you owe me dinner for the rest of your life
Jackson: and you’re going to be paying for emotional reparations bc I was this close to planning an intervention with all of us and letting Minho rip you a new one
Jackson: how fucking tough was the old man’s NDA?
Jackson: congratulations, btw
Jackson: I’m also pulling you out of work for today so this is both a warning and a heads-up