Archive of Our Own

Their first meeting had been straight out of a romantic movie. 

Minho’s mood had been soured by being late for a coffee date with Seungmin and because his ex-boyfriend was blowing up his phone in a final attempt to win him back. He hadn’t been very attentive to his surroundings, nor the way his scent smelled more like stale cake than a freshly opened vanilla pod.

In turn, Chan had been exhausted from staying late at the office and had finally managed to escape in the early morning hours. His eyes had been trained mindlessly on the commercials running on the shopping center’s facade, and while Chan had sworn to Minho it was merely an advert for cooking equipment, it had left him feeling chronically single and all alone in the world.  

It had been a perfect moment, meant to be and written in the stars. If either of them had been a second late, they would have missed each other. Chan wouldn’t have been wallowing silently in his head, and Minho would have tripped over the curb and plummeted to the ground rather than falling directly into Chan’s waiting arms. 

Without a doubt, Minho knew right at that moment that Chan was his for life. The scent of caramel coffee had dragged him in, Chan’s arms feeling like the safest place on earth, even if Minho knew nothing of the stranger he stumbled into. 

Unsurprisingly, Chan had wanted Minho to marry him on the spot, but, as it turned out, he required two more years to build up the courage and propose. That, and Minho had flustered him with his grin, his devilish eyes, and sugary vanilla scent. 

It was Minho who pointed to a nearby restaurant, asking Chan if he could buy him a meal as a thank you for saving him from certain death by pavement. 

It was Chan who had stutteringly asked if Minho wanted to do it again when they had finished eating, both of them having had the best night of their life. 

The answer had been yes. And it still was whenever Chan asked Minho anything.

Which was why, a couple of years down the road, Minho got to wake up to Chan, still sleepy and overworked, but just as cute and charming as he had been the first day they met. 

Though that didn’t mean Minho would extend the courtesy of letting him sleep in when his nest was messy and in need of a rearrangement. And, no, it couldn’t wait until Chan was out of bed.

“Out,” Minho muttered and shoved at Chan’s shoulder. It didn’t work, so he brought out the big guns and started peppering Chan’s face with kisses. “I can’t arrange pillows when you’re on top of them,” he complained and blew a raspberry on Chan’s chin, successfully chasing him out of bed as he rolled over the edge, his wild curls sticking out from his head. 

“Wasn’t your heat supposed to start the day after tomorrow?” Chan wondered and got interrupted halfway through by a yawn. 

A part of Minho was a little regretful at chasing him out of the bed, considering how late he had gotten home the night before, but Minho knew there was nothing helping his nesting tendencies, and Chan had promised him it was okay. Repeatedly, even, so Minho just needed to have faith and trust that Chan wasn’t irritated about it.

“Yeah, and?” Minho said and was already beating up a few pillows to lay them down neatly. His fingers were itching to rip the sheets off and rumple them up messily before placing down a clean blanket that would be soft and cooling against his sweaty skin once his heat hit. “Besides, you were there when the doctor said my heats would be a little unpredictable now I’m off birth control,” he reminded him, slightly distracted by moving a pillow a little to the left only to move it a little to the right. 

His nest needed to be absolutely perfect for this heat. Nothing but utmost precision and care would be tolerated. This wasn’t just some boring old heat where he could live with things being shabby.

“Well, I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Chan said, confident as ever, and stretched his arms over his head with a groan. Minho’s eyes quickly darted towards his direction and enjoyed the sight of his alpha’s bare chest. “I suppose you’re still off coffee?” He asked, leaning into Minho’s space to place a kiss on his cheek. 

Minho pretended to find it disgusting and wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, which only caused Chan’s beam to grow even brighter.

“Caffeine is bad for babies,” Minho grumbled and found it highly unfair that Chan smelled of caramel coffee when Minho was trying to wean off his own coffee diet. Could he go decaf? Yes, but that was a little like cheating, and Minho genuinely felt that giving up coffee was a small sacrifice for getting a pup. 

Chan’s pup, specifically. 

“Sure, sure,” Chna nodded, slowly backing out of the bedroom and leaving Minho to his own devices. “I’ll make you some tea,” he said and yawned again, not even having the decency to cover his mouth as he did. 

Minho ignored him, his sole focus being on making sure the pillows were lying just right. 

Was it going to matter in a moment? Nope, because once their clothes came off and Minho’s heat began, all he would be thinking of was Chan’s cock, which, to be fair, already took up much of Minho’s daily brain space. Still, he was an omega, and nesting was one of the few instincts Minho allowed himself to be controlled by.

On a normal day, he refused to be bound by his subgender and worked in an all-gendered gym. He did boxing as well as yoga, kicked alpha’s asses, and taught omega’s how to stretch to get rid of post-heat soreness while ensuring betas were in their peak shape to tackle the world of not being commanded by hormones and pheromones. 

Minho was very much both strong and independent, but also soft and nurturing. 

Chan, as it was, liked all of him. Even when Minho pointed out obvious flaws, Chan simply brushed them aside and continued to worship the ground Minho walked on as if that was his sole mission in life.

Minho’s exes had never liked him being bossy, hated how he hissed and kicked, hated even more that he was sometimes stronger than them. They complained about how he worked out, whined about how he moved too much, how he was dressed too scantily at the gym by wearing shorts rather than sweats, how he was supposed to stay at home and wait for them to come home so he could heat their knot. 

Chan hadn’t even looked phased when Minho told him where he worked, instead asking if they could work out together, pouty lips and pleading eyes included to persuade Minho into saying yes. Minho had blinked at him, and, well, working out with Chan was very nice. One, Minho got to ogle him, and two, Chan only laughed at Minho when they boxed, didn’t whine and run away like Jisung always did. 

The final nail in Minho’s coffin was how Chan had gotten along with Minho’s friends. Jisung, who was normally shy, had taken to Chan like a house on fire, and even Jeongin, who hated all alphas, had enjoyed Chan’s company. How he ended up liking Chan’s other alpha friends even more was beyond Minho, but somehow Minho now had a husband, six perfect friends in a pseudo-pack, and once this heat was over, Minho would have a pup. 

If he was lucky. 

“Pretty, pretty,” Minho said quietly to himself and fluffed up a couple of throw pillows.

He hadn’t always wanted kids, but there was something about Chan that just tugged at all of Minho’s instincts. He was patient, he was kind, he knew how to talk about his feelings better than Minho did, and seeing Chan with one of his nieces on his arms had been the last drop in Minho’s cup. He spilled all over Chan in the car home, crying and waxing poetically about tiny babies that were half-him, half-Chan, and… It had been fucking embarrassing, and half of it pre-heat nonsense.

Chan had been good about it, of course, he fucking had because he was perfect. All patient as he let Minho spill all the dreams he had never admitted to harboring, and then Chan had said he wanted kids too. It was that simple. Or, not really, because they had waited till after Minho’s heat just to make sure it wasn’t just his hormones acting up, and once he got his period, he had sat on the bathroom floor feeling empty. 

Chan had thrown Minho’s birth control out right away, not even bothering to have the long spiel about whether or not they were truly ready for the responsibility of having a pup. Like always, they were on the same page, matching like their scents, and they both knew that they would have each other’s backs in raising their child. 

Minho sighed and sat down in the middle of the bed, scanned the nest and deemed it pretty enough. He could hear Chan sing along to the radio as he sleepily walked around in the kitchen and prepared breakfast. Minho most likely wouldn’t be able to stomach it since his pre-heat was wreaking havoc on his appetite. 

Still, Chan would encourage him to eat, and Minho would snicker a rude remark to which Chan would then take to heart and pout for about an hour. 

Sure, they were perfect, but they argued and made up, all in the span of twenty minutes. 

They were a textbook couple, domestic to a fault, who acted like they had been married for decades and not just weeks. And yet, Chan liked to cook despite being an alpha; he was the one who brought the fluffiest pillows into their relationship, his pastel lavender throws lying next to the bed out of reach of slick and cum. Minho, on the other hand, was the one fixing the door handles when they fell off, was better with tools than Chan had ever been, and was the best at handling conflicts within their patchwork pack. 

They would be terrible parents, sickening and annoying, and Minho couldn’t wait. 

“Minho-yah, if you’re petting your belly again, you should come drink your tea instead!” Chan called, and Minho glanced down at himself, almost annoyed to see his hand over his still flat stomach. 

“I was not!” He yelled back and removed his hands. “I was rearranging Kokki,” he said, glancing at the huge bunny Chan had gifted Minho on their 3rd date. 

It looked a little deranged but that was why Minho loved it. Given how many heats the poor creature had witnessed, it was also bound to be a little traumatized. 

Minho was still pouting as he left the room behind and found Chan sitting at their dinner table. He had already made himself a whole meal, knowing full well Minho was a picky eater then in his pre-heat, and thus had only made him a small bowl of cut fruit. 

Chan, on the other hand, had been a bottomless pit for a good week now, packing up so he could keep up with Minho through his heat. It made Minho pleased to see Chan sitting at a table they bought at IKEA together, in a home they built from second-hand goods and hard work. 

“You’re being soft again, aren’t you?” Chan guessed and perked up when Minho entered the room, only to return to his phone and the rice he was absentmindedly showing in his mouth. 

“Is it a crime to admire one’s alpha?” Minho threw back and strolled lazily over to Chan. He should have been cold in his shortest shorts that barely covered his ass and the loose tee he liked wearing because it was premium Chan-nip and always made him attempt to slip his hands up under it. 

“Never,” Chan said, looking away from his phone again so he could smile at Minho. He pushed away from the table so Minho could sit on his lap. “You sure you don’t want something to eat?” He asked and kissed Minho’s chin as he plumped down on Chan’s strong thighs. “I cut you some fruit.”

“I’m good,” Minho sighed, leaning fully into Chan even though he wasn’t small enough to curl up in his arms like he wanted to. “I’m already kind of queasy.”

“Hmm, then drink your tea,” Chan said, so soft and caring it almost made Minho sick. “I can feed you later.”

“Oh, you are feeding me later,” Minho said, wiggling his eyebrows and making Chan flush as he received the offered teacup. “We’re going for a copy-paste situation here.”

“Copy-pas… Minho,” Chan huffed a laugh. The motion rustled Minho along with it, who proudly smirked at himself and his joke. “Who are we copying then?”

“Me, of course. One of me is cute, you clearly agree on that, but imagine two. Now that would be life-altering cute, wouldn’t you agree?” Minho replied impishly, Chan staring at him about as in love as he had been since they slammed into each other that fateful day. “Mini-Minho. Me, but in tiny.”

“Well, I think this version of you is amazing as it is,” Chan said, like the whipped man he was. “I suppose two would be double as amazing.” 

His hands moved down Minho’s body, settling over Minho’s flat stomach.

“I mean, this is the time to back out,” Minho said quietly, biting his lip. “One last chance to pull out- Metaphorically, because if you don’t knot me during my heat, I will-”

“Minho, babe, we talked about this,” Chan cut him off with a kiss directly on his pursed lips. “I want kids. You want kids. We have the time, the money, the space,” he rattled off, eyes flickering to the spare room they had never quite gotten around to fixing down the hallway. “Will it be a big change? Yes, but it’s not like we never talked about it before.”

“I just- once we do this, there is no going back,” Minho muttered like he had all the million other times they talked about this. 

Chan continued caressing his belly, long fingers making Minho’s skin ticklish and anticipatory of what the day would have to offer once his heat hit. 

“Hmm, like when we got the cats,” Chan said, his expression turning a bit morose as he looked at the empty cat tree. The three little furry boys usually sitting there were on vacation at Jeongin’s house until after Minho’s heat had passed. “But, no, I’m sure. And so are you,” he said confidently, pressing Minho closer to his chest. 

Minho shivered, lust struggling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Chan,” Minho purred softly, tugging at the t-shirt he had thrown on when he left their bedroom.

“Nope,” Chan rejected him, shaking his head and averting his gaze to avoid suffering under Minho’s devilish pout. “I agreed last night, and you rode me like you were out to kill me. I like my dick, and since I will be fucking you for days, I’m preserving my stamina.”

Preserving my stamina had no right sounding so fucking sexy coming out of anyone. Still, Chan made it sound so irresistible Minho wanted to test his stamina before his heat even began.

God, he was so horny for this man. 

“But, Chan,” Minho whined and wiggled, swearing he was already feeling a little wet between his thighs. “Just once.”

“Nope,” Chan repeated, patting Minho’s stomach. “Drink your tea.”

“No fair,” Minho muttered, but did drink his very calming herbal tea Chan had brewed for him, because he didn’t trust any premade blend. “I’m not going into heat right now,” he said, lips pursed into a moue.

“I still don’t trust you,” Chan replied with a laugh. “You always act like that, then I fuck you and bam, there’s your heat, and poor me will have to catch up to you. My pants stay on until your fever starts. You know my rut is a bit slow to catch up.”

“Spoilsport,” Minho huffed and took another sip of his tea. He was getting restless and it was annoying because he was quite content perched on Chan’s lap like a prized omega.

“Good things come to those who wait,” Chan said, leaning in, drowning Minho in the scent of caramel and coffee. “And haven’t I always been good to you, babe? Haven’t I always made you come, all pretty as gasping on my knot?” He nuzzled into Minho’s throat that had yet to carry his mating mark. “Trust me, babe, I’ll put a baby in you.”

Minho didn’t even need to be this close to Chan to smell his apparent arousal.

“Pervert,” Minho said, barely managing to conceal his gasp. “And not fair,” he repeated and kicked Chan’s shin for taunting him. He also made the discovery that he was definitely more than just feeling a little wet. “You can’t get me worked up and not do anything about it.” 

“Like you didn’t wake me up in the middle of the night the other day, got me to eat you out and then clocked out immediately after,” Chan snickered and drew Minho away to raise an eyebrow at him. “I remember vividly how I was sitting there with my dick in my hand while you were snoring away.”

“I don’t snore,” Minho protested, because he did not. He had correctly had a bit of a hard time falling asleep after waking up suddenly in the middle of the night, had rolled over, woken Chan up with a hand in his pants, and then gotten knocked out with Chan’s tongue still lapping up his slick. “And what can I say? You’re just that good. Melatonin has got nothing on you, alpha, making me come so well on your tongue and fingers only and making me fall asleep again in no time,” he purred and shifted a little in Chan’s lap to squeeze his thighs together. “My big, strong, and hung alpha.”

“You might not snore, but you do talk,” Chan said amused, pressing another kiss to Minho’s cheek. “And I’m not fucking you before your heat hits.”

Minho rolled his eyes, annoyed that Chan had a point. While Minho was good to go right after his orgasm settled while in heat, Chan needed a little time to follow along before his rut set in and helped him keep up with Minho’s insatiable appetite. 

“But you promi-” Minho started with a pointed look at Chan who had the gall to be entertained by Minho’s bargaining.

“The moment your heat hits, my cock is in you,” Chan finished for him, wiggling his picky in front of Minho like the adorable goof he was. “Don’t worry, babe, I got you,” he promised, stuffing more rice in his mouth. 

They had done this so many times by now they had it down to a T. Still, Minho was a little sad because his heat was early. While the extra days he had claimed for his heat could now be used for Chan to recover fully before going back to work, Minho was dissatisfied they didn’t get to cuddle and sleep in like he planned when he booked Chan’s heat leave into his work calendar. 

“Well, then I’m going to stretch,” Minho huffed, finishing the last of his tea. He placed the cup down on the table and jumped off Chan’s lap. “I don’t want to be sore once you’re done with me.”

“You? Sore?” Chan chuckled and let Minho leave without a fuss. “What about my poor hips?”

“Get younger, old man,” Minho teased, wiggling his ass as he went over to the cupboard next to the television and pulled out a yoga mat. “You need to put your back into it and knock me up,” he said and rolled his mat out onto the living room floor, carefully measuring out where he would be directly in Chan’s line of vision from the table. 

“Omegas,” Chan muttered under his breath and shoved more food into his mouth. 

While there was plenty of food in the fridge, Chan’s need to protect and nurture mixed very badly with being in rut. It meant he wouldn’t eat properly for days because he was too busy keeping Minho stuffed - both by knot and by all the pre-made meals they had in the fridge. Due to that, Minho would leave his heat glowing and freshly fucked, and Chan would spend a good day horizontal just recovering as if he was hungover. 

Minho hummed along to the music playing from the speakers, stretching his muscles to get warmed up, before he began the workout earnestly. He had started doing yoga when he used to dance, falling in love with the control and the focus it demanded. When Minho’s head was too busy, he could do a sequence, and his head would clear up instantly, his mood usually improving as well. As he got older and his heats started, he learned the horrors of period cramps and got even more appreciative of it. 

Even now, in his own living room, he felt calm and at peace, as he stretched his body. 

There was no missing how Chan was staring at him. He tried to hide it, sure, but he wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was. Minho spotted him out of the corner of his eyes. Chan would look down at his phone, the screen black and dead, and then slowly his eyes would lift. 

If Minho were facing him, his eyes would flutter right back to his phone, but if Minho weren’t… Then Chan would keep staring, his eyes following Minho as he moved.

“You could join me,” Minho exhaled slowly and reached for his feet before getting into the tree pose, standing on one leg, his opposite foot on his thigh, and both hands over his head, palms pressed together. 

“Unless you want me to bench press you, I’m out,” Chan said with a shake of his head and finally popped the last egg he had prepared into his mouth. “Besides, the last time I tried to do that with you, we didn’t do a lot of yoga.”

“I seem to remember you having tons of fun,” Minho smirked, having very fond memories of Chan fucking him right there on the floor. 

“Yeah, because you were the one bent in half,” Chan said, giving up on pretending not to stare. He put the phone down, keeping his eyes on Minho, the weight of his stare delicious on the small of Minho’s back as he leaned down and sank into the deep lunge. “And I’m not fucking you before your heat hits,” he groaned as Minho’s ass returned up in the air. 

“You sure?” Minho grinned, shaking his ass at Chan. 

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Chan said a little hoarsely. No one ever believed Minho was the true ass enthusiast in the house with how Chan couldn’t help but stare at Minho’s behind at every chance he got. 

“Hmm, you sure I can’t persuade you?” Minho wondered, voice saccharine sweet. “There are so many poses I haven’t even shown you yet,” he added, straightening back up before he placed his legs wider apart. 

He bent in half and looked at Chan through his spread legs.

“Have you ever tried this one?” Minho asked sweetly, knowing full well that he was very close to flashing Chan with how short his shorts were in this position.

“A couple of times, yes, you’re just usually not a fan of being knotted with your head upside down,” Chan said, eyes glued to Minho’s ass. “I like it better when you’re all pretty in the nest under me.”

“You just like it because you get to lie down afterwards,” Minho muttered, straightening up and turning to Chan. He was a hard nut to crack, annoyingly so. Minho could feel how wet he was, arousal pooling deep in his stomach, and he just wanted Chan to throw him down and fuck him silly. 

Was that really too much to ask for?

“Sue me,” Chan said with a grin, clearly knowing what Minho was thinking. “Are you done already?” 

“No,” Minho huffed, lying down and pulling his knee up to his chest, and hugged it tightly, wondering what he would do next. Chan used to be a sucker for the wide-legged forward bend and would have normally jumped Minho the moment he leaned forward. 

Minho put his leg down, pulling the other one up, cursing about how he could feel his own cock filling out. He just wanted to be fucked, to be full of cock and cum and with a little luck a baby, too. 

He smiled at the ceiling as a lightbulb went off over his head and Chan flicked on the switch in the living room as he returned from having put away his dirty dishes. 

Minho kicked both feet up, grabbed a hold of his toes, and parted his legs widely. 

Perhaps the aptly named happy baby pose would bring him that damned pup. 

“Fuck,” Chan cursed, a little stained, and Minho lifted his head to look at his boyfriend through his spread legs. “You will need to change your shorts,” he coughed, and Minho looked down to see a dark patch between his legs. 

He let go of his toes to give Chan the finger. 

“What?” Chan grinned like the attractive asshole he was. 

“Come on and fuck me,” Minho whined, slowly letting his legs down and lying starfished on the mat in defeat. 

“Not until your heat hits,” Chan repeated for the nth time, though there was no missing the tent in his sweatpants. “Even if you present it to me.”

“It’s a legitimate pose,” Minho shot back, flipping his legs over his head. He breathed deeply, actually having to focus on keeping his core tight. “Relieves tension in your lower back,” he grunted and concentrated on keeping his breath controlled.

He could smell himself, sweet and sticky, heavy vanilla, underlaid with an amber note. The scent of his own arousal made him grow wetter, a subdued rush of discomfort flowing through his system.

God, he was so fucking horny for Chan. 

It was like an itch under his skin. He was so empty, practically hollow, without Chan inside of him to eradicate the ache. He gritted his teeth as he slowly put his legs down, ignoring Chan as he flipped around, beginning to stretch his back like a cat. 

The cramps would begin soon, pulling at the muscles around his spine. Then the pain would follow, wild and aching, making him miserable. Minho’s heats had never been untameable, never been kind to him either, hence why he had been on birth control most of his life and why Chan always made sure to have his cock in him the moment the first trace of his heat became apparent. 

Minho sighed as he leaned forward, ass still in the air as he pressed his chest to the mattress, his arm flat ahead as his spine lengthened and his shoulders extended. He wiggled slightly, trying to get comfortable, and felt his half-hard cock push against the fabric of his shorts. 

Being more than a little aroused, Minho couldn’t help but moan, legs slipping a little more apart as he opened up. There was a soft screech of the chair moving, and before Minho registered what was going on, he felt Chan lean in over him

“Chan…Ah!” Minho gasped, shivering as Chan’s cock pressed up against him from behind. “Fuck,” he moaned and arched backwards to feel more. “You said you didn’t, nghh, didn’t want to stretch with me?”

“Wasn’t that what you wanted?” Chan asked instead of answering, pressing closer and rutting up against Minho’s ass. Minho shuddered and sank deeper into the presenting position, the sensation of Chan’s cock filling out against his clothed cunt close to heavenly. “Sticking your ass up like this,” he muttered in disbelief, hands slipping down Minho’s side and rucking his shirt up. 

“Please,” Minho whined, nails digging into the mat as he pressed back against Chan, shamelessly asking to be bred. “Please, hyung, take me.”

“Minho-yah,” Chan groaned and rolled his hips against Minho, so hot even through all their clothing. “You’re going to kill me.”

“No, I’m going to make you a father,” Minho corrected breathlessly, blinking his eyes open. God, he was so wet already. “But first you’re going to fuck me till I can’t walk.”

“Not yet,” Chan muttered and ignored Minho’s whine as he flipped him around, the raw strength enough to make more slick escape from Minho’s body. “Later,” Chan sighed and caged Minho between his elbows as he kissed him. 

Minho accepted Chan like he had the first time Chan, by opening up and taking all he was given. His arms made their way up Chan’s shoulders to his hair, his head tilting to the side as his lips parted to allow Chan’s tongue in. Chan always kissed Minho with his whole heart. It was deep, tender, and affectionate, like he was pouring his love into Minho, urging him to swallow it all up without complaint. 

“I love you,” Chan whispered as he pulled away, gasping for air as he kissed up and down Minho’s neck and scent glands. “God, you smell divine,” he growled, teeth nipping at Minho’s skin. 

“Chan,” Minho whined, rubbing up against his leg. “Please… you promised,” he sighed, pliant as Chan kept nipping at his unblemished skin. They weren’t mated, not because they didn’t want to, but because Chan always chickened out, muttering about consent, but this time he had promised.

If Minho was going to have a pup, they were better off mated. They had been legally married for a good two months, waiting for Minho’s heat to make it official, mostly because it had been important for Chan to have the papers in order. To Minho, it didn’t matter much, given he had known he belonged to Chan the moment he fell into his arms. 

“Yeah, I know,” Chan exhaled sharply, lifting up and staring into Minho’s eyes, taking up his whole world as he hovered over him. “Till death do us part,” he said with a soft smile exactly like the one he had sported as he had at the courthouse as he slipped a ring onto Minho’s finger. 

“Never getting rid of me again,” Minho said and drifted his fingers through Chan’s hair.  

“Never wanted to be rid of you in the first place,” Chan said with a crooked smile, diving in to kiss Minho so achingly sweet it made Minho’s toes curl against the mat. “You’re going to be such a great mom,” he sighed, leaving kisses all over Minho’s face and making the omega huff and protest. “Pretty and round, all knocked up with my pup.”

“Well, not with your pants still on,” Minho hissed as Chan’s leg slotted in between his own, allowing Minho to rub his aching cock and dripping cunt against Chan’s strong thigh. “You need to knot me first, need to bite me,” he added, already breathless with excitement from feeling Chan’s cock brush against his with each motion. 

Chan was so good, fitting him in the best way. He wasn’t too big, but big enough that Minho could imagine him, thick and curved, hitting all the right spots within him. 

“Not yet,” Chan groaned, clearly not unaffected by Minho humping up against his thigh. “God, you’re insatiable already,” he added, ducking down to kiss Minho’s neck again, his hands sneaking up Minho’s shirt. 

He was quick to latch onto one of his nipples, tweaking Minho’s tender chest, only causing more slick to pool in Minho’s soaked underwear. 

“I need your knot, Chan. God fucking shit, can’t you feel how wet I am?” Minho grunted, shamelessly grinding against Chan, arching his back to push his chest firmly into Chan’s hold. “If you don’t get on with it, I’ll get the fuzzy pink handcuffs.”

“As much as I love that idea, I’m quite the fan of using my hands,” Chan huffed, words almost downed against Minho’s throat, his scent gland red and swollen from Chan sucking and nipping at it. “If you tied me up, I couldn’t do this,” he said and drew out a moan from Minho as he pinched his nipple. “And that would be a shame.”

Minho wanted to protest, but could only whine as Chan pushed his thigh against his cock. 

It was enough to make Minho go pliant, and enough for Chan to push himself up, dragging Minho along like he weighed nothing, Minho’s poor and ignored cunt leaking a bit more at how effortlessly Chan picked him up into his arms. 

He hadn’t carried him like this since they got married. 

“I think it’d look good, though,” Minho commented breathlessly, hanging from Chan’s shoulder like a sack of rice. His vision swam ever so slightly at the sudden tilt of his world, the fever licking up his spine and sending waves of heat through his body.  “You all pretty and helpless as I ride your cock, knocking myself up,” he hummed, shivering at the thought. “Pink is your color.” 

“You know I like blue better,” Chan replied and nudged open the door to their bedroom with his foot. “I could think of something that would look better,” he added, slightly distracted as he tried not to trip on the pillows Minho hadn’t liked in his nest. “A lot better, actually.” 

“And what might that be?” Minho asked. He placed his palm against Chan’s cheek and applied just enough pressure to make Chan turn his head fully to look into Minho’s eyes. “Hmm? Chan-ah?”

“You already know,” Chan replied, that stupidly attractive grin back on his face, dimples peeking through, and his eyes crinkled. He was so stupidly handsome that Minho wanted to hit him a little. Tender punches with his lips. 

“Do I really?” Minho wondered out loud. 

In a final attempt to make himself look irresistible, Minho sucked in his bottom lip between his teeth and batted his lashes. With the lithe muscles Minho had built from hard work, looking sweet, soft, and dainty wasn’t exactly easy, but Minho did his best. 

“You do,” Chan said, and his arms tightened ever so slightly around Minho’s body. He leaned in, drowning Minho in the scent of coffee and caramel. “You under me, milking my knot like you were made for it,” he whispered, rough with want. 

Minho shuddered, his whole body aching and his cunt clenching around nothing.

Chan didn’t give Minho a chance to collect himself. He released Minho, dropping him onto the mattress of their bed. Minho bunched slightly, blinking rapidly up at his alpha with his swollen red lips parted in a startled gasp. Chan wasn’t usually this crass when it came to dirty talk. His vocabulary mostly consisted of praises that didn’t involve any mention of what they were doing other than the fact that Minho looked pretty. 

Minho couldn’t deny it caused butterflies to erupt in his stomach, the gentle caress of the fever over his skin suddenly feeling scorching under Chan’s towering form.

God, he wanted him so bad.

“Then give it to me, baby,” Minho said with a wicked grin and scooted backwards on the bed. “Make me yours for life,” he breathed and barely managed to spread his knees to make room for Chan before his alpha was on top of him, pressing him into the soft and fragrant sheets Minho had arranged less than an hour ago.  

Minho welcomed him into his embrace and wrapped his arms around him, releasing a sigh of relief the moment they were pressed flush against each other. He canted his head upwards and, without meaning to, brushed his lips over Chan’s, both of them stilling for a second. Minho blinked slowly, mere seconds away from getting lost in the dark brown depths of Chan’s irises before their lips met in a proper kiss. 

He assumed Chan was the one who had moved first. His confidence was always higher when Minho’s arousal was able to be picked up in the air. His lips tasted of pineapple juice, fresh and sweet, and Minho drank it up like a dying man. He threaded his fingers through Chan’s black curls, the ends coarse compared to the silky roots, and the scent of his shampoo nowhere to be found thanks to the spike of his pheromones.

While Chan’s shampoo was nice, Minho liked how he smelled a lot better. Even sweaty and straight from the gym, Minho found Chan’s scent delicious, and he loved nothing more than to sneak into the shower and get all of Chan before he muted his own scent with soap. 

Minho breathed in deeply. Warm and irresistible caramel filled his lungs with every inhale, sticking to the inside of his nose and erasing everything else. Even the vanilla scent of himself was untraceable due to Chan’s excitement of being the one taking care of Minho. He was such a good alpha, soft and caring, yet hard and unyielding when he needed to. He kept Minho safe, sated, and happy. 

Minho couldn’t wait to have his mark on his neck and his pup in his belly. 

The thought of it was enough to make Minho tremble, steadily leaking slick from where he could feel Chan press against him. He was so close, yet so far away. 

Every touch, each brush of his hands down Minho’s body, and caress against his lips was incredible, sparks flying down Minho’s spine and easing the simmering fever. Chan’s touch should be warm and uncomfortable over Minho’s clammy skin, yet it cooled him and soothed the ache within him. 

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Minho muttered against Chan’s lips, lifting his hips to feel the hard line of Chan’s cock through the fabric of his sweats. He shuddered, a rush of muted pleasure traveling through him, and his eyelids fluttered. “There’s no need to hold back,” he whispered and let himself slip into the haze of his heat. It was easy with Chan, easy being himself, easy being vulnerable because Chan loved him. “You can give it to me however you want, alpha.”

In lieu of answering verbally, Chan rocked his hardening cock against Minho’s crotch and moaned into Minho’s open mouth. The sound was the prettiest Minho had ever heard, something so endearing about it that Minho couldn’t help himself and smiled against Chan’s lips, only for the expression to be wiped right off of his face by another controlled roll of Chan’s hips.

“However I want?” Chan repeated, his voice rough and full of so much unveiled emotion it made goosebumps dance over Minho’s skin. “That’s a dangerous thing to say, Minho-yah,” he said and let his free hand travel down the length of Minho’s side until it rested on the swell of his ass. 

“It is?” Minho replied, his hands fisted in Chan’s hair in an attempt to keep a hold of his sanity for a second longer. “You know what I want.”

“I do,” Chan hummed in agreement and groped Minho’s ass, massaging the flesh and evoking a new gush of slick streaming from Minho’s cunt. “You want to be kissed and caressed, then undressed slowly and with utmost care, and when you’re lying there in your nest, wet and willing just for me, you want me to put a pup in you,” he said, lips moving down the column of Minho’s neck in tune with his hand leaving Minho’s ass behind in favor of skirting over his flat stomach. 

The soft touch left a burning trail over Minho’s feverish skin. 

Minho’s breath hitched, Chan’s breath fanning out over the swollen and sensitive scent glands near Minho’s throat. It was already swollen from before, hot to the touch, and making the whole room smell of sweet vanilla. Chan placed a loving kiss on it, the brush of his lips rough enough to send a tremble through Minho, slick trickling from his entrance. 

Minho’s body was more than susceptible to Chan’s influence. The alpha barely needed to do anything other than be close to Minho to have his cunt weeping for his touch. 

“Channie,” Minho said, lying pliant and obedient like the good omega he was. “Channie, please,” he whined, his alpha’s cock so warm as it rutted against his aching cunt.

“Shush, babe, be patient. This is about what I want, remember?” Chan continued, the smile pressed against Minho’s tender scent gland. “And what I want is to breed you and mate you right on this very bed,” he whispered and opened his mouth to lick a long strip from the base of his scent gland and all the way up to his jawline. “Have you stuck on my knot and moaning my name as I make you mine.”

Minho’s entire body twitched beneath him, his hands involuntarily tightening their grip around Chan’s strands. His alpha groaned lowly and rocked his hips forward harder than before, pressing fully into Minho so he could feel all of him and effectively making Minho grow slack in his hold, the simmering pleasure building in his core reaching a new peak. 

He wasn’t in heat yet, but it would only take a few more moments before the fever took hold of him fully. He could feel it, the simmering fever heating his skin, the blind lust making it hard to think, the way his cunt was wet and aching, the cramps making themselves known in his lower back. 

He was early, but fuck if he cared about that right now when he had Chan right where he wanted him. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my sweet Minho-yah?” Chan asked, leaving a final peck on Minho’s scent gland and pulling away. “You’d like being knocked up and owned, wouldn’t you?” He said with a grin, slipping right out of Minho’s hold. 

He moved too quickly, and Minho failed to catch him before Chan was out of his reach. He settled on his knees between Minho and stared down at him, taking in his flushed appearance, his cheeks blushing, and his chest heaving for air. He had to look like a wanton mess, shirt pushed up under his armpits, nipples red and swollen from how Chan had teased them earlier, the damp spot between his legs growing by the second. 

And yet Minho felt no shame, didn’t even dislike the loss of control and the pleasure of being good and sweet like he had with other partners, because in this, they were equal. 

He looked at Chan without a hint of embarrassment, thinking Chan should feel honored to reduce Minho to this without even taking his clothes off. He too looked a mess, lips red and swollen, slick with Minho’s spit, his cock pressing against the fabric of his sweatpants, and his hair mussed from Minho’s fingers.

Minho felt like a fucking artist for making Chan look that irresistible.

“I’ve already told you,” Minho replied and licked his lips, relishing in how Chan tracked the motion. “I think you should hurry up and put a baby in me.” He put a hand over his stomach, patting the spot under his belly button where he was already beginning to hurt. “Right here.”

Chan laughed, easygoing and complying, and Minho returned his glee with a feline smile. 

“Come on, hyung, make me yours for life,” Minho said and swayed his knees, effectively causing his shorts to slip further down his thighs and bunch around his hips. There was a very obvious wet spot between his legs, proof of just how much Minho yearned for Chan’s touch. “Don’t make me wait.”

Chan had barely thrown his shirt off before he was back, crowding Minho against the pillows and rutting shamelessly against Minho’s clothed cunt. Every other roll of his hips ended with Minho’s cock getting trapped between them, sharp shots of pleasure shooting through Minho, his cunt pinching with the need to be fucked full. 

Minho raked his nails down Chan’s back, returning the favor of littering Chan’s scent glands with kisses and small bites as his alpha worked on undoing the drawstring of Minho’s flimsy shorts. How he managed to get it loosened without breaking it was beyond Minho, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

If he could salvage another pair of shorts from Chan’s poor restraint, then he would consider himself lucky…At least that was what Minho thought before the sound of fabric ripping sounded, and Chan cringed at himself. 

“Channie,” Minho berated, lips twitching against his husband’s neck. 

“Sorry,” Chan said meekly, and Minho sighed, too horny to even be annoyed about losing his newly acquired shorts. “I’ll buy you some new ones,” he promised morosely, and Minho rolled his eyes. 

Whoever thought Chan was this huge, big, dominating alpha who threw Minho around like he was nothing had clearly never met his eternally attentive husband. 

“Just get your dick in me,” Minho said and lifted his hips to permit Chan to pull down what remained of his shorts. They flew over the side of the bed before Minho could assess the damage. “Please, just hurry up and get undressed,” he added and clawed at Chan’s sweats, wishing he were as strong as Chan and could tear the cotton into thin strips. “I already miss you.”

“Miss me?” Chan echoed and moved away again despite Minho’s whining and grabby hands. “That was quick,” he teased from the other end of the bed, and Minho restrained the urge to throw a pillow after him, not nearly sane enough to waste a pillow from his nest just to punish Chan.

Chan swiftly jumped off the side of the bed and pulled his pants down, and Minho decided to take matters into his own hands. If Chan was going to be slow, Minho would just need to get undressed all on his own. He yanked his shirt fully off and used that as a projectile and hit Chan right in the face as he turned around to return to the bed. 

“Serves you right,” Minho snickered and stuck his thumbs under the elastic of his underwear. The fabric was drenched in slick, clinging to his skin annoyingly as he peeled it off and kicked them off. He shuddered as the cold air of the room moved across his wet thighs, his cock hard and curved towards his stomach.

Minho groaned at the sight of himself, thighs wet and his cock beading pre-cum at the tip. It was beginning to hurt, the cramps not just an echo, but full spasms up and down his spine, and he felt so fucking empty. The feverish haze of his heat hit him like a brick, and he slumped backwards, losing his balance as he fell into his pillows and plushies. 

He spread his legs shamelessly and, without waiting for Chan, snuck a hand between his thighs and plunged two fingers directly into his weeping cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” Minho moaned, his fingers inadequate at releasing any meaningful pleasure, but just long enough to put a lid on the pain in his abdomen. He spread his fingers, his other hand quickly found his nipple and started rolling it between his thumb and pointer, his thighs quivering from the sudden change in pace. 

Just a moment ago, Minho had been dressed, and now he was pleasuring himself, uncaring about being patient and waiting for his alpha like he probably should, but he thought he deserved points for at least trying. 

Chan could hurry up if he wanted to be in on Minho’s pleasure. 

“Minho,” Chan called, and like a moth to a flame, Minho turned his eyes slowly, mouth agape and tears gathering in his eyes. His fingers were good, but they weren’t enough. More teasing than anything, even as he spread them apart, stretching himself open for Chan. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he complimented, and Minho smiled dazedly, the movement of his fingers speeding up. “But you’re also mine to please.”

Chan walked over to the bed, and Minho’s gaze fell from his back to between his legs, where his cock stood proudly. Just the sight of it made Minho’s mouth water, and he curled his fingers, gasping at the sensation he managed to coax free. 

He just needed Chan, needed him in him, over him, consuming Minho completely. 

“Mine,” Chan repeated and sat down on the edge of the bed and crawled towards Minho. He settled between Minho’s parted legs and curled his hand around Minho’s wrist, slowly easing Minho’s digits out of his sobbing cunt. “So don’t take my job away from me,” he said, ignoring Minho’s protesting whine as he leaned in and took Minho’s finger, sticky with slick, into his mouth.

His eyes rolled back into his head the moment the taste of Minho’s slick hit his tongue, a full-body shiver going through him as he sucked on Minho’s finger, cleaning them of every single drop. He pulled off the digits with a pop and a crazed look in his eyes. 

Minho’s cunt fluttered, so close to coming as he kept abusing his nipple, the wet sensation of Chan’s tongue over his fingers heavenly. 

“You taste so fucking good, my love,” Chan said and licked his lips, savoring the taste of Minho’s arousal on his tongue. “Can’t wait to be inside of you.”

Minho blinked down at him, wondering why the fuck Chan wasn’t getting on with it then. Had it been up to Minho, he would have been taken at least once over the kitchen counter already, perhaps even once more on the living room floor. 

Chan was the one dragging his feet, insisting on taking his time instead of just making Minho come. 

“Then hurry the fuck up,” Minho snapped, his lower back cramping now that he didn’t have his finger inside himself.  He stole his hand out of Chan’s grip and slumped back onto the sheets and spread his legs wide. Chan sent him an amused look, and Minho sighed in relief when Chan followed him and took up the space created between his thighs.

“You’re so impatient,” Chan scolded playfully, placing his hands on Minho’s knees, palms traveling slowly down Minho’s muscular thighs. “I’m trying to make this good for you, you know, get you in the mood,” he added and surged in to connect their lips in a wet kiss that stole all of Minho’s protests right off his tongue.

His cock bumped against Minho’s, eliciting twin moans from both of them, the scent of their desire heady in the air. Minho swung his arms around Chan’s neck and drew him closer, canting his hips upwards in the search for friction, whimpering into Chan’s mouth at the hard press of his cock against his folds.

He wiggled, Chan’s tip catching on his entrance, and Minho wanted to curse when he didn’t slip in and fill Minho up instantly.

“In me,” Minho breathed and reached down between them to grab Chan’s cock. He wrapped his fingers around the girthy length and smiled into the kiss, Chan’s startled moan like sweet music to his ears. “I need you in me, alpha, please,” he begged, licking along the seam of Chan’s lips and deepening the kiss. “In me.”

Thankfully, Chan was easy to persuade.

He manoeuvred his hand under Minho’s knee and hitched his leg up, pressing closer and practically folding Minho in half. He left Minho’s embrace, and Minho instead stretched his arms up, pushing out his pert chest for Chan to see. Chan groaned, but stayed true to Minho’s wishes and moved them around so he could slip right into Minho.

In the process, he granted himself full view of where slick was oozing out of Minho, so wet and desperate for something to fill him up and erase the hollow sensation in his core. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” Chan sighed in awe, a smile playing in the corner of his lips as he stared at Minho’s cunt. “The prettiest omega there ever was.”

“I’m going to be the most pissed omega there ever was if you don’t hurry up,” Minho complained, though it sounded a bit too desperate to convey any sort of recognizable snark. Fuck, he felt like he was burning up from inside, the need like an itch under his ski,n driving him mad. He was so wet, so fucking drenched and ready, and Chan really fucking needed to get his cock in him or Minho would fucking scream. “Channie, please, just fuck me!”

“Somehow I highly doubt you would be that mad,” Chan grinned and ran his free hand up and down the expanse of Minho’s inner thigh. The simple touch coaxed more slick from Minho’s entrance, his heart stuttering in his breath at the look of reverence that settled over Chan’s face. 

If he had been religious, Minho didn’t doubt he would’ve worshipped omegas and nothing else. 

“Come on,” Minho urged and made grabby hands at his alpha, wiggling his butt as well as he could, hoping to entice Chan to snap out of his trance and do what he was best at - fucking Minho to the point where he forgot how to speak sensical words. 

“Patience, my love,” Chan chided and leaned down to place a kiss on Minho’s knee, much to Minho’s displeasure. “You’re not going to die without a cock in you. Your fever is only just arriving.” 

Minho scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, opting to turn his face away from Chan if he was going to act like a brat. That was Minho’s job. 

“I should’ve known you were bad for me,” Minho muttered and strained his neck to turn further away from Chan. It wasn’t an easy task with Chan between his thighs and one leg folded up to his chest, but Minho was nothing if not adamant. “All you want to do is watch me suffer.”

“Really?” Chan asked, as always willing to indulge in Minho’s theatrics. “That’s all I do?” 

“Yes, really,” Minho replied and licked his lips to quell his smile. It was so annoying how much he loved that stupid man. “You’re always teasing me, hugging me in front of others when I’ve stated we should keep that behind closed doors, giggling at me when we’re outside, even though I thought we agreed on your giggles needing to be behind a paywall.”

“A paywall?” Chan repeated with a disbelieving snicker. “That’s the first time I’ve heard about that.”

“Because you never listen to me!” Minho exclaimed and almost broke character when Chan shifted his weight and pressed Minho deeper into the mattress. He could feel the heat of Chan’s cock, so close to him. “If you did, your cock would be fully inside of me, every single inch drenched in my slick, but, no, you’d rather tease and toy with me as if I’m not about to die from heat fever, you-”

The tip of Chan’s cock nudged against Minho’s entrance, rutting up against his drenched folds without slipping in, effectively shutting off all of Minho’s rambling complaints. His breath got stuck in his throat as Chan took the time to collect slick and spread it down cock, ensuring that once he finally penetrated Minho, it would be a smooth and easy glide. 

“Channie,” Minho stuttered, blinking lazily up at Chan, arms curled around his face. The head of his was so big even as it moved up and down, testing Minho and drawing more slick out of him. Minho was clenching around nothing, like his cunt wanted to pull Chan in, make them one, make Minho feel full and perfect. “More- oh!”

Chan slipped a little deeper, the head pushing against his opening, nearly entering.  

Minho bit his bottom lip to keep himself from moaning at the torturously slow motion of Chan rubbing the head against his entrance, testing how easily Minho’s body would have at his intrusion. He swallowed thickly, fingers twitching, his body melting into the bedsheets as Chan applied the smallest hint of pressure. 

He used to hate it, used to hate how he lost that struggling, bratty part of himself during his heat. Used to hate going docile on instincts, howling for cock like a crazed person, but Chan never made him feel less, never made Minho feel anything but loved. Safe. He understood Minho’s body almost better than Minho, knew what he liked, his limits, he accepted no’s and put himself second. 

He loved Minho when he was his normal teasing self, and he loved Minho needy and vulnerable. 

The tip slipped fully inside with ease, splitting Minho open and forcing him to accommodate the size of his alpha. Even the head was big, so perfectly right as it pressed into Minho.  

“Please,” Minho said, his eyelids fluttering as Chan pushed in another inch painfully slowly. “Please, Chan-ah,” he whispered and held his arms out to cradle Chan as he leaned in close, pressing further into Minho’s wet heat.

Minho wanted him deeper, wanted Chan to go as deep as he could, to steal whatever was left of Minho’s sanity and fuck it right out of him. 

Chan’s grip around his thigh was hard. The hand that had been caressing the insides of his thighs moments prior had come to rest by Minho’s head, holding up Chan’s weight as he entered Minho. The drag of his cock was delicious, the pace torturously slow, soothing the weak cramps in Minho’s abdomen. 

It was the effect Chan had on him. Calming, relaxing, and so deliriously addicting, Minho didn’t know why he had struggled so much against him when they started dating. He should have thrown caution to the wind and bitten Chan after their second date when he had known Chan was the love of his life. 

“Come on, alpha,” Minho urged, blinking lazily up at Chan, a pleased expression settling over him as Chan sank into him. His shoulders relaxed, the tension seeping out of him like melting ice. “You smell so fucking irresistible,” he added and turned his head slightly so he was closer to Chan’s scent glands on his wrist. “Like caramel and coffee.”

He took a deep breath, a haze settling over his mind, his insides churning in subdued pain. He was grateful Chan always obliged to be inside of him when his heat hit him at full force to minimize the pain and discomfort. It made the transition from sane and in control to desperate and submissive so much easier on Minho’s mind.

“Good thing it’s your favorite,” Chan replied with a grunt, sinking further into Minho’s welcoming heat. He looked focused, sweat beading on his forehead, his body tense as he held back. “I fucking hate coffee,” he complained, making Minho smile. 

It had been one of the first things he commented on, how nice Chan smelled and how he loved coffee, hoping Chan would pick up on it and ask Minho out. Instead, he made a face, confessing he hated the taste, and Minho might have fallen a little in love with him right there. 

“Hmm, the very best,” Minho replied, his eyelids fluttering shut in time with Chan bottoming out, his hips flush with Minho’s ass. Fuck, he went deep. “The bestest in the entire world,” he hummed and took the opportunity to revel in the closeness of their bodies, to get used to the sensation of having Chan’s cock inside of him. 

It felt right. Correct in ways Minho could never feel outside of his heat. Even though the fever had yet to hit fully, Chan’s proximity was already ensuring that the sensation of hollowness and of being undesirable never hit Minho. It got to skirt right around him, leaving Minho in favor of making room for a contentment so deep it felt like the world was rose colored as Minho blinked his eyes open again.

“Come here,” Minho said, but didn’t leave Chan any room to move on his own. “Kiss me,” he muttered almost dreamily, so, so full and warm. 

Minho cradled Chan’s face between his palms and closed the distance between them. A shock of electricity travelled down Minho’s spine as their lips touched, and Chan elicited a startled sound that Minho drank up passionately. The smile decorating Minho’s face was wiped away by Chan’s tongue breaking the seal of his lips, a shudder of pleasure sneaking through both their bodies.

Chan’s shoulders were rigid beneath Minho’s itinerant touches, the tips of his fingers tracing the dips of his trapezius and following the hardness of his muscles up to his neck. His fingertips danced across the bumps of his spine, content enough with leaving Chan in charge of the kiss. 

In truth, Minho was content to leave it all to Chan. 

Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, only urged on by the intrusion of Chan’s cock in his core, pouring gasoline on the fire embering beneath his skin. Nausea churned in his stomach, and saliva gathered in his cheeks. For a moment, Minho permitted himself to enjoy the innocence of the kiss, knowing that this would be the last he would see of it for a couple of hours.

When he was in the worst of it, he couldn’t focus on kissing, could only whine and moan as Chan fucked him over and over. 

Sweat beaded on his brows and Minho blinked his eyes open, his vision blurry for just a moment as he got used to the brightness of the bedroom. It was too sharp, irritatingly so, but telling Chan to turn off the lights would mean breaking the kiss, and Minho enjoyed the sensation of Chan’s tongue in his mouth a little too much to interrupt it. 

In fact, if Chan could get closer and imprint the taste, the scent, the feeling of him all over Minho, it would make up for the annoyance of the light being too sharp. 

They kept kissing, Chan hot and warm inside Minho, making sparks dance up and down his spine every time he moved slightly, kissing Minho till his lips were sore. In truth, they could have been lying there for hours kissing, perhaps it had been barely ten minutes, Minho didn’t know. Time was meaningless when Chan was in him, bathed in Minho’s slick, hot, and ready. 

An all too recognizable flood of desire rushed to the surface, and Minho moaned into Chan’s mouth, daringly nipping at Chan’s bottom lip just to remind him that Minho wasn’t to be toyed with so easily. He could feel it, the heat, the feverish delirium creeping up on him. Chan’s weight wasn’t enough, the feeling of him growing too much as he never moved. 

Chan got to hover over him because Minho willed it, just like his cock only got to be kept warm and ready inside of him because Minho wanted it to be ready for him when he needed it. 

And Minho needed it now more than he had a few moments ago when he had begged for it.

Minho sighed into his mate’s mouth and pushed his fingers through his curls, playing with them for a brief second before he grabbed a fistful of hair. Chan startled and drove his cock back into Minho, deep, deep, so fucking deep, a beautiful twin moan shared between their lips. Butterflies erupted in Minho’s stomach, momentarily chasing away the nausea and leaving his body light and floating.

“Now?” Chan asked breathlessly. He made a noise in the back of his throat at Minho’s clenching around his length, his heel resting on the small of Chan’s back to push his cock  further into him.

“Breed me like you promised,” Minho whispered in lieu of giving Chan a straight answer. Not that he needed to with how his scent had sweetened to the point of cloying, and Chan quickly picked up on the change as well. “Fuck me, Channie.” 

Chan blinked, slightly dazed, and stuck his face into Minho’s throat. Minho grumbled, impatient to chase the fever away, but with all of Chan pressing him down, there wasn’t much for him to do except clench around Chan, hoping he would get to it and give Minho the pup he promised. 

“Fuck,” Chan groaned, low and drawn-out. His cock twitched inside Minho and sent a flutter of excitement up Minho’s spine. “You smell fucking tempting.”

The compliment shouldn’t make Minho as proud as it did.

“Love me right,” Minho murmured and tugged at Chan’s hair to remind him this wasn’t the time to get scent-drunk. “And I’ll let you pup me up for life. Can you do that, alpha?” He taunted and grinned when Chan’s muscles tensed under his palm. “Can you breed me? Fuck me till I know nothing but you?”

Chan pushed himself up, and Minho automatically lost his grip around his curls. Minho’s hand fell to the side, and he instantly grabbed a handful of the bedsheets to cling to. If Chan knew what was wise, he would fuck Minho roughly from the very start and beat the fever down before it even got the chance to fester. 

With brows furrowed in concentration, Chan’s gaze landed on where his cock entered Minho and carefully eased himself out till only the tip remained inside. Minho dug his heel painfully into the small of Chan’s back, punishing him for hesitating. 

His eyes flickered up and caught Minho’s eyes for a brief second.

“I can’t wait to knock you up,” Chan said and drove his hips back, forcing his cock in all its glory back into Minho’s body with a wet, lewd sound that echoed through the room. 

Minho’s eyes shot open, and he gasped, a plea for more dying on his tongue as Chan drilled his cock into him repeatedly, setting a fast pace now that Minho’s heat fever was showing itself.

“Harder,” Minho said breathlessly, eyes trained on Chan’s expression of concentration. His tongue was pressed into the side of his cheek, confidently ramming into Minho and kissing his womb with each thrust already. Minho wanted it deeper, wanted it faster, wanted it harder harder. “More, alpha, more, please, you need to give me mor-”

“I’ve got you,” Chan promised, his voice low and raspy already. His arms were tensed, and Minho wished he had it in him to focus on more than Chan’s face and the feeling of being so full and so close to feeling complete. “Alpha’s got you, babe.”

Chan didn’t grant Minho the opportunity to catch his breath after each punishing thrust, Minho’s body rocking with each motion of Chan sinking in to the hilt each time. The bed creaked, the sound of their skin meeting loud as it filled the room, but to Minho it sounded like music. Chan’s touch was hot against his waist, keeping Minho still as he took him, sending ripples of pleasure through Minho as he repeatedly filled him, the push and pull easy from Minho’s slick. 

Small and uncontrollable sounds tumbled from Minho’s lips, coaxed out of him by the sheer force of Chan’s thrusts. It felt like he was running a marathon against Minho’s fever, seeing which one of them would succeed in first dragging Minho under the surface and make him lose himself completely. 

As it were, Minho’s fever didn’t stand a chance when it came to Chan, who was nothing if not trained and prepared to deal with an omega in heat.

Searing and bright pressure started building rapidly in the pit of his stomach. His body tensed, and his breath stuttered as pleasure danced down his spine and through his limbs. Minho’s cock twitched, dripping pre-cum down the shaft, and Minho gasped, his fists curled into the sheets as he came hard. His release was wild, blinding almost, coming out of nowhere. His muscles tightened up abruptly, back arching, and he clenched around Chan without warning, his thrusts faltering. 

A deep groan escaped him, sounding so pretty to Minho. 

He shivered, Chan keeping up the brutal pace and maintaining Minho’s pleasure. It was almost painful, but to Minho it was closer to heaven than anything else. He twisted in Chan’s hold, breath stuttering as he finally began to come down again. 

“Chan, Chan, please,” Minho chanted his name, his lips parted and his eyes wide as Chan guided him through the last of his release, thrusting into him just as steadily as before, just with less force behind the movements. “Fuck, it hurts,” he whimpered and dug his fingers into their sheets, tearing at them as he was drowned under a wave of heat. 

Chan was suddenly too much, but Minho knew that it would hurt more if Chan stopped, that overstimulation was the lesser of two evils. His cunt hurt, twitching and sore, the first orgasm of his heat trapped between the best and the worst. 

“Easy,” Chan soothed him, carefully slowing down his movements, easing Minho back in his body without ever stopping. “I got you,” he said, voice tight as he kept an inhuman control over himself. “I got you, love, I got you.”

Minho didn’t know how many moments had passed before he dared to squint his eyes open. The only sound in the room was of his panting and the noise of Chan entering him in aborted and hesitant moves. He knew well enough that Minho wanted him to be rough and uncaring and continue to fuck Minho even though it clashed with Chan’s nurturing instincts of ensuring Minho was comfortable at all times. 

“You good?” Chan dared to ask a second later, the weight of his cock keeping Minho grounded. The hurt was slowly ebbing, evolving into something more, something comfortable. Minho could feel how the pain was turning into pleasure, his whine becoming soft moans again. 

Minho wetted his lips and nodded, his ears still ringing from his abrupt release. However, as much as the ache in his body had been soothed, there was still something fundamental lacking within Minho.

“I want you deeper,” Minho decided and took in a breath, tasting Chan’s scent on his tongue, heady and compelling, and with a hint of something wild that made Minho’s instincts go haywire. “I need you deeper.”

He could feel him reach deep inside of him, his head teasing the soft area just before his womb. 

“Deeper,” Chan repeated, lightly puzzled and a sight for sore eyes. His chest was flushed all the way down his toned stomach, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, and Minho wished he could lick it all off.

Minho felt crazed, his mind swimming within his head, and Chan wasn’t moving quickly enough. He was back to being calm and controlled when Minho wanted it hard, wild, and uncontrolled. Chan could make love to him outside his heat. Right now, Minho wanted it hard and painful, to be used and wrung out. 

“Deeper,” Minho said and shoved at Chan’s chest, attempting to push him away with no avail. “Alpha, I want-” He choked on his words at Chan pulling out of him, the hollowness painful before he was fucked full again. “M-more.”

He whined and offered Chan his most pathetic look, praying to God it would convince Chan to get a move on and let Minho feel him so deeply he wouldn’t be able to forget it. He kicked his feet and pushed Chan away from him, but all he got in return was Chan keeping him stuffed on his cock.

“How?” Chan asked, and Minho swore he heard the sound of his alpha swallowing, his scent spiking deliciously around them. “How can I go deeper?”

“On top,” Minho replied and nodded frantically like he was convincing both of them it was the right position for them to be in. “I need to be on top, oh, fuck, alpha, I’ll be able to feel you so much better if I was on top and-”

Minho didn’t need to say anything else. Chan slipped out of him quickly, his lower half slathered in Minho’s slick. He hadn’t even registered how much he had leaked already, covering Chan with the proof of his desire. His body instantly protested at being empty, but it didn’t last long while Chan switched their places. 

He laid down on his back and hauled Minho on top of him. He breathlessly followed and straddled Chan, looking with wide eyes down at his alpha. 

Chan didn’t leave him to his own devices for even a second. He reached between them and grabbed his cock, swiftly guiding Minho down again, the look on his face one of reverence as Minho’s body greedily swallowed him to the base.

“Oh, fuck, god bless your dad’s genetics!” Minho wailed and threw his head back, rocking mindlessly on Chan’s cock. This was better, much better. Minho could move, bounce away happily as he rammed himself down on Chan’s cock. 

“Could we not bring up my dad right now?” Chan choked beneath him, his palms hot against Minho’s hips. He guided him upwards, carrying most of Minho’s weight and dropping him back down on his cock, punching out a moan from both of them.

“He deserves the credit,” Minho managed to force out and was close to slumping forward and face-planting into Chan’s chest at the sensation of Chan spreading him apart. “Fucking masterpiece of an alpha he sired,” he huffed, barely able to think straight with how Chan’s cock was feeling inside of him. Minho could feel it all, every ridge and vein, the curve, how the head of Chan’s cock pressed into his walls, making sparks fucking fly down his spine. 

Chan was so much bigger like this, reaching deeper than before and filling out the emptiness in Minho’s body. It was like he was made for Minho, perfect in every way, and making him feel like he was floating on cotton candy clouds. Minho moved up and down, happy he was strong enough to lift himself off Chan, before dropping himself fully down on Chan’s cock, swaying with how good it felt.

Chan quickly steadied him, and Minho planted his hands on Chan’s stomach, smirking at how tense his muscles had already become from keeping himself in place. It would be so easy for him to disregard Minho’s wishes when they both knew Minho wouldn’t last long in this position before he grew weak and gave up, but his alpha understood it nonetheless. He craved to please Minho and acted on his whims like the perfect man he was.

Minho wanted to go slow, really appreciate the drag of Chan’s cock inside of him, but he wasn’t a man of patience. Never had been and never would be.

His thighs quivering as he lifted himself and brought his hips down in shallow thrust, watching deliriously as Chan’s lips parted in a soundless moan. The look on his face was indescribable, the furrow of his brows and the slackness of his jaw only encouraging Minho to see just how messed up he could make Chan look before his thighs gave up.

“You’re so fucking handsome,” Minho groaned and dug his nails into Chan’s chest. The pace of his movements was sloppy and uncoordinated at best, the squelching of their couple causing his cheeks to feel like he was on fire. He was so wet, dripping even with Chan in him, coating both Chan and himself in the vanilla sweet scent of slick. “So big, too,” he added appreciatively, moaning as he pressed himself flush to Chan’s hips, grinding down. 

His hand moved up to caress Chan’s scent gland at the base of his neck, rubbing his fingers over the tender skin. Without putting more consideration into it, Minho buried his head in Chan’s throat and inhaled deeply, languidly grinding against Chan and shuddering as his cock got trapped between them. 

Chan’s scent spiked deliciously, wrapping around Minho, and he swore he felt even more slick trickle down from where they were connected. He smelled enticing. Probably tasted enticing as well. Minho threw reason to the wind and licked a long stripe up Chan’s throat, smiling to himself as Chan jerked within him.

“You’re taking me so well,” Minho slurred weakly, his breath fanning over Chan’s pulse point. “Such a good alpha. Gonna make me so round and full with your pup, yeah?” 

The intimacy, the clonesness, of having Chan under him drove Minho insane. Short and aborted sounds left his alpha, his hands abandoning Minho’s hips in favor of groping his ass and rutting into Minho’s wet heat. Both of their breaths turned harsher and rougher with each thrust, and the only thing that would make it better was Chan’s knot - and potentially his rut if Minho worked hard enough to lure it out of him.

“If I ask nicely, do you think your rut will come soon?” Minho wondered, his words muffled against Chan’s throat. “Like, pretty pretty please,” he moaned, angling his hips to make it easier for Chan to rut up into him. It wasn’t enough, Minho knew that, but there was something about the small, desperate twitches of Chan’s hips that drove him wild. He felt so wanted, so desired, knowing Chan craved Minho like he craved Chan. 

“I don’t think you need to ask nicely,” Chan grunted, his hands digging into the soft flesh of Minho’s ass, pushing him closer and bullying his cock deeper into Minho’s weeping cunt. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.”

“Hmm, only you, alpha,” Minho muttered into Chan’s neck, wanting to bite him, mark him up and make him his, but it was too soon. “Come on, Chan, give it to me,” he hissed, feeling Chan move, truly putting his back into fucking back up into Minho as he kept his own hips rolling up and down, meeting Chan’s cock as it entered in and out of him.

Their bedroom was quickly filled by the soft moans and quiet pants once more. Chan was undoubtedly the noisiest between the two, sounding more like he was the one in heat rather than Minho. Each shallow motion of Minho sinking down on his cock elicited a whimper from his alpha, and even as Minho sped up, his hands planted on each side of Chan, it wasn’t Minho who sounded the most affected. 

The mere effect he had on Chan was plenty of encouragement for Minho, rocking rapidly back onto Chan, the drag of his cock hitting all the right spots within him.

“So needy,” Minho muttered, more to himself than to Chan. He didn’t reply. Not that Minho had expected him to. “Such a needy omega,” he added under his breath and closed his eyes, tightening around Chan as he lifted himself up and speared himself on Chan’s length. “Gonna look so pretty pregnant,” he panted, stars already teasing the corners of his eyes. “Gonna look so- Chan, wha- !”

The world spun, and without warning, Chan pulled out and switched their positions. Minho bounced on the mattress and gasped, the sudden emptiness making tears spring to the surface. 

“Why-”

Chan pushed him onto his stomach and grabbed his hips, the touch so hot that Minho shivered. He nudged his knees apart, pushing his chest down till Minho’s back was arched, lying much like he had when Chan had jumped him in the living room. Minho’s body gave in easily under his alpha’s command, the promise of being fucked full again enough to stop him from complaining about being manhandled. 

“You didn’t have to ask nicely,” Chan grunted from behind him, and Minho made a small noise of confusion. “You being like this is enough to trigger my rut,” he said and rammed his cock back home, punching out a guttural moan from Minho, who arched his back and grabbed onto the pillows.

“Fuck!” Minho shouted, fucking cliche firework erupting behind his closed eyes as Chan forcefully tumbled him over the edge again, pure bliss sinking into Minho’s ambushed body. Minho wasn’t sure how Chan did it. All he knew was that he was trembling, his cock jerking and sputtering white onto the sheets beneath them, and his lungs gasping for air as pure euphoria filled his veins. 

Chan sank back into him again, stealing Minho’s breath away completely, not allowing him to catch his breath before he fucked into him, again, again, and again. All he could do was grasp onto the sheets as Chan fucked him, filled him over and over, going painfully deep and never allowing the rush of pleasure to die out. The grip around Minho’s hips tightened, and with little to no warning, Chan yanked him back onto his cock, the sounds stemming from where they were connected loud and wet in their bedroom. 

Chan’s moans quickly drowned out Minho’s, plowing into Minho and coaxing his body into accommodating the hurried and desperate nature of Chan’s movements. 

“You’re so- fucking good,” Minho said, words muffled by the pillows. Whether or not Chan could hear him or not didn’t matter since he showed no signs of slowing down, fucking into Minho’s wet heat like that was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. 

Minho wished he had the energy to vocalize how much he wanted that to become reality.

“More, more, please, alpha more,” Minho whimpered brokenly and pushed back to meet Chan’s thrusts. “Please, give me more. I can take it,” he promised, nodding into the sheets as if to emphasize his words. “Knot me, please.”

Each trust somehow sent more pleasure through his body, all of his nerve endings alight and trained solely on where he and Chan were connected. He could come again, he knew it. He was close already, despite the rush from his other orgasm having never truly died. All he needed was Chan’s cum. Minho was fertile, ready, his womb free of hormones, and so fucking ready to grow Chan a child. 

All he needed was a knot and cum and-

“I need your knot, alpha, please, give it to me,” Minho managed to force out in between moans, his cunt tightening around the intrusion of Chan’s cock in a futile attempt to keep him inside. “Please.”

He felt Chan’s knot, slowly starting to inflate, pulling at Minho every time he pulled out, stretching Minho so goddamn wide as he forced himself back in. 

“I love you,” Chan chanted, the slap of his hips against Minho’s ass echoing in the room. He sounded as lost to the heat of his own fever as Minho was, ramming into him and stuffing Minho to the brim each and every time. “Please, please, Minho, please, let me put a pup in you, let me cum inside, please.”

“Alpha, please, hurry up,” Minho replied, equally frantic. “Knot me like you promised. Make me yours, please, please,” he whined so close to coming again it hurt. 

“Make you mine,” Chan repeated, his hips stuttering against Minho, the growing base of his knot tugging on Minho’s entrance. “Make you mine,” he said again as if he had been hit by a sudden epiphany. “Mine.”

Chan’s hips jerked, and with a final thrust, his knot breached Minho’s cunt, filling him, plugging him up, and pushing against Minho’s wet, pliant walls. He spilled, cock twitching as warmth flooded Minho as he too came, gasping and trembling as his orgasm hit him like a truck. 

Chan draped himself over Minho, covering his entire body with his own, and pinned him to the bed, continually rutting into Minho and fucked his spend as deeply as possible. To ensure it took, Minho’s hazy mind supplied and he clenched and quivered around Chan, tightening around his knot as he tried to pull him deep inside. 

He felt so full, cum flooding him, pouring right down his womb where it belonged. 

Minho bared his throat on instinct, Chan’s hot breath fanning over the spot near the junction of his shoulder that had never burned as much as it did in that moment. He didn’t wait for permission from Minho. Finally seeming to accept what had always been his, Chan sank his teeth into the flesh, the canines piercing the skin covering his scent glands, and bit him, sealing them together in body and in soul. 

Minho jerked beneath him, his entire being overcome with bliss from being knotted and claimed, his inner omega singing from finally feeling complete and whole. He moaned, soft and weak, his cock twitching, coming dry one last time.

Like a sting had been cut, the tension drained out of Minho, his whole body going soft and pliant. Chan was quick, carefully tilting them to the side so he didn’t crush Minho, always so careful not to tug at his knot even though Minho liked the pain of it, liked the reminder that Chan was tied to him. 

They were silent for a bit. Both trying to catch their breath and their sanity struggling to return now their fever was sated… at least for a while. 

“Do you think it took?” Minho said and rubbed his flat stomach. He felt so good, high on having come so much already, of being knotted and full of cum like he had dreamed about since his last heat. “Do you think I’m pregnant?”

“I think another couple of rounds won’t hurt,” Chan offered. His words were rough around the edges already, gravelly in the best of ways, and Minho hummed in contentment. “I mean, it would be miraculous if it stuck on the first day,” he added, not quite able to keep the hope out of his voice. “And even if you’re pregnant now, your heat won’t end any faster.”

“Hmm, too bad you’ll have to keep fucking me,” Minho smiled and grabbed Chan’s hand from where it was caressing his hip. He placed it over his own on his stomach like they could magically command their pup to take. “You think your hips can keep it up?”

“My hips will be fine,” Chan said, proving his commitment by hitching them forward and making Minho gasp at how deep his cock went, just shy of painful, as it twitched, more cum leaking into Minho and filling him up. “Now, let me enjoy holding my mate,” he commanded and Minho’s heart swooped.

“Okay,” he replied meekly, already planning on how he was going to bite Chan the next time to complete their bond fully. “Just keep that cock in me, right,” he muttered and closed his eyes and took in how it felt like being full, loved and all Chan’s.

They did end up taking a few more rounds, more than a few even after Minho had sunk his teeth into Chan’s scent gland and tied them together fully. Chan’s cock barely left Minho’s cunt at all as he fucked him over and over again till Minho’s fever completely dulled and he was left a little sore, his stomach lightly distended with cum and his complexion glowing. 

Chan, on the other hand, looked exhausted and celebrated the end of his rut with a 12-hour nap and demanded that Minho order enough fried chicken to feed a family of four when he finally returned to the land of the living.

Still, even as the fever died out, they spent the rest of Minho’s heat leave at home, cuddled up and kissing, their hands never quite leaving Minho’s stomach. 

Chan was right. It would be miraculous if they managed to get pregnant on the first try, but Minho couldn’t stop himself from wishing they had succeeded…

Even two weeks later, as Minho parked himself on Chan’s lap, the early pregnancy test laid out on the table before them, Chan’s hands hadn’t moved away from Minho’s stomach. And when it had, it was only because he was getting dressed and was technically halfway out the door when Minho had decided they needed to test it to see if he was pregnant already.

“It’s too soon,” Chan muttered, his legs shaking anxiously beneath Minho. “It’s been two weeks since your heat began. If the test is positive, it took right away and…”

“Chan, if the test isn’t positive, we’ll try again tomorrow,” Minho said, staring at his phone as it counted down the time until he would be able to check the result of the test. “I- I need to know,” he said quietly, trying to remain calm and not panic about the test. 

He wasn’t even drinking coffee to keep his baby safe, so it surely wouldn’t do for him to be stressed instead. 

“It’s a blip,” Chan said, and hooked his chin over Minho’s shoulder, eyes never leaving the test. “Your body will barely know it’s pregnant.”

“Chan,” Minho said, soft and careful, as he reached out and wrapped a hand around Chan’s arm. “Please relax. If it doesn’t stick this time, I will have another heat in three months. We try again,” he reminded him, voice to light compared to how nervous he was and how butterflies were combating each other in the pit of his stomach. “And I understand that it might- Oh my God, Chan!” 

He stared at the test, the timer on his phone a mere second away from running out.

“What, are you okay?” Chan asked, pulling Minho tighter as he reached for the test. He almost slid right off Chan’s lap in his attempt to reach the test quicker. “Something wrong?” He added when his inquiry went ignored and Minho took the test with trembling fingers, blinking at it shock in tune with his eyes growing larger than baubles. 

Two perfectly clear lines stared back at Minho. 

“I’m pregnant!” Minho exclaimed, tears flooding his eyes instantly as he twisted in Chan’s hold, showing off the little plastic stick to his mate. “It took.”

“Fuck.” That was all Chan said before his lips crashed into Minho’s, and their laughter got trapped between them. 

Chan’s hands were back home on Minho’s stomach a few moments later, both of their mouths red and puffy and their cheeks flushed from happiness. Chan continued petting Minho’s stomach where their pup would soon grow, kept safe by their parents’ hands. 

Chan’s one-syllable reaction was the same a few weeks down the road when the doctor pointed to the screen, two hearts beating in sync on the screen, and Minho preened, happy and mated to the love of his life. 

“Twins?” Chan said once they were in the car, still parked in the parking lot, while they both took in the moment. “We’re having twins?” 

“Apparently, three of me is cute, too,” Minho quipped brightly, though his giggles were quickly shut up by a kiss on his waiting lips and his arms embracing his mate and the father of his pups.

Their pups.