Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Happy birthday to you…”

Voices rang out in cheerful unison, laughter echoing across the sun-drenched backyard. Shimmering decorations fluttered with the breeze—balloons in pale blue and silver, streamers wrapping around every post, and a giant banner that read Happy 8th Birthday, Baekjin! hung proudly across the patio.

Children clapped and cheered, some already smudged with frosting and bits of confetti. Adults mingled in clusters, drinks in hand, faces beaming. A string quartet played softly beside the pool, their melody almost drowned by the delighted shrieks of kids playing nearby.

At the center of it all stood Baekjin—flawless in a custom white suit with a navy bowtie that brought out the glimmer in his eyes. His dark hair was brushed neatly, his cheeks tinged pink from excitement, his smile wide and proud as he faced the giant cake with eight sparkling candles flickering on top.

“…Happy birthday, dear Baekjin…”

He giggled as the guests sang louder, tilting his face toward the sun like it belonged to him. And in a way, it did. He was the star, the golden child.

Inside a quiet room at the very top of the house, someone else sang too.

“…Happy birthday to you.”

Baekhyun pressed his hands together, mimicking the way his brother stood. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but full of warmth as he followed every word of the song. His lips curved into a gentle smile, eyes shining as he watched the celebration from behind a dusty window.

He had dressed up for today. It's also his 8th birthday.

The soft shirt he wore hung a little loose—it used to be Baekjin’s, outgrown and passed along without thought. But Baekhyun treated it like treasure, smoothing out every wrinkle, combing his hair just right, and even dabbing a bit of water on his cheeks to make them look rosy.

As Baekjin closed his eyes to make a wish, Baekhyun did too.

As Baekjin blew out the candles, Baekhyun puffed a breath against the glass, watching it fog up for just a moment before disappearing.

And then the cheering erupted outside, the sound of clapping and happy chatter.

Inside, Baekhyun clapped too, alone, his feet bare against the wooden attic floor.

The music picked up again—a lively tune for the children to dance to—and Baekhyun began to sway. His little hands lifted in the air, mimicking the moves he had once seen in a cartoon, twirling slowly in place. He spun once, then again, his eyes closed like he could pretend the wind brushing through the curtains was the breeze from the garden.

He was part of the party, if only in his head.

If only from behind the glass.

The attic window framed him like a painting—small, radiant in the golden light, dancing in silence as the world below celebrated his twin.

No one looked up.

No one ever did.

---

The party dragged into the night, string lights twinkling like stars Baekhyun could never touch. Music thumped from below, and the scent of grilled food drifted faintly through the cracks in his attic window. Laughter echoed like a language he was never taught to speak.

He curled on his bed, stomach twisting in quiet protest. No one had come to bring him food. No one ever did, not when guests were around. He waited—waited for the music to fade, for the house to grow quiet. But it didn’t.

So, while fireworks painted the sky in gold and silver, drawing all eyes upward, Baekhyun crept downstairs.

He tiptoed across the cold tiles, flinching at every creak of the old floor. He knew where to go—he always watched the house from above. The freezer held premade meals, the kind he could heat up quickly and eat in silence. He moved fast, hands shaking just a little as he worked.

But just as he pressed the buttons on the microwave, a voice behind him startled him so hard he nearly dropped the plate.

“Who are you?”

Baekhyun froze, head snapping toward the boy in the doorway. He was tall—maybe his age—but looked nothing like anyone he knew. His eyes were curious, not cruel. There was no judgment in them, only surprise.

“I—” Baekhyun swallowed hard, heart racing. “I’m sorry. I just— I’m hungry.”

The boy tilted his head. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Baekhyun blinked, confused. He expected yelling. Disgust. Not this soft voice.

“I’m Chanyeol,” the boy said, smiling as if that was enough to make them friends.

Baekhyun stared for a moment, then mirrored him with a cautious tilt of his head. “Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a slightly melted chocolate bar. He handed it over without ceremony. “You can have this. My mom won’t let me eat two anyway.”

Baekhyun hesitated. He had never been given candy before. He had only seen it in commercials on the old kitchen TV. Slowly, like the moment might disappear if he moved too fast, he took it.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Chanyeol grinned.

And then he left—just like that.

Baekhyun stood alone in the kitchen, plate warm in his hand, candy bar in the other, heart full of something he didn’t yet know the name of.

It was the first time someone had looked at him like he wasn’t a ghost.

Chapter Text

Baekhyun was twelve when he first held a paintbrush.
Not a real one, not at first—he used to sketch with the ends of dull pencils on the backs of old documents. Slips of paper tucked between textbooks, scraps rescued from the trash bin near his mother's desk. Flowers he saw from the upstairs window. The shape of Baekjin’s laugh. Imagined things that didn’t exist anywhere but his mind.

It was his tutor who noticed. One afternoon, she leaned over, eyeing the margins of his workbook filled with soft, sweeping lines. “You have a gentle hand,” she’d murmured, half to herself.

Baekhyun thought he was in trouble.

He never brought it up again.

Then one spring evening, his father returned home from abroad.

Baekjin had waited by the door, bouncing on the heels of his new shoes, while their mother stood poised beside him, lips painted, her perfume sharp and familiar. Baekhyun stayed behind, leaning against the frame of the hallway, bare feet cold against the tile.

The car pulled in. The front door opened. Their father entered with his usual briefcase and weary smile, the scent of airport terminals still clinging to his coat.

Mother greeted him first, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a smile too smooth to be warm. Baekjin threw his arms around him, squealing in delight.

Baekhyun waited quietly, his small hands fiddling with the edge of his sweater.

Only when the excitement calmed did their father notice him. “Baekhyun,” he said gently.

Baekhyun stepped forward and hugged him—softly, quickly. Just enough to say he missed him without saying it out loud. His father’s coat smelled like distant places and everything Baekhyun didn’t know how to ask for.

When he pulled away, he didn’t linger. He sat at the far end of the couch while the others gathered around the suitcases, their voices bright and full.

The gifts came out in a flurry—jackets, cologne, a sleek wristwatch for their mother, new toys and designer clothes for Baekjin. Laughter filled the room.

Baekhyun watched. His smile was small, the kind that faded fast if no one looked.
When Baekjin ran over to show him his new shoes, Baekhyun nodded, fingers brushing the smooth leather. “They’re really cool.”

Their mother never looked his way. As if he wasn’t part of the picture at all.

Later, after the bags were empty and the chatter had dulled, their father sat beside him. He was quiet for a while, fingers clasped, eyes forward.

Then he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a small wooden box, wrapped in a dark green ribbon.

Baekhyun blinked, startled. “For me?”

His father nodded. “Just something your tutor mentioned.”

Inside was a beginner’s watercolor set. A few brushes, small tubes of paint, and a thin sketchbook, the pages so white they made Baekhyun nervous to touch them.

He stared at the gift like it might vanish.

“Thank you,” he said, barely above a whisper.

His father ruffled his hair. “Don’t let your mother see.”

Baekhyun understood without asking why.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, he sat on the floor of his room with the box in his lap. He chose violet first—he didn’t know why—and painted a single flower on the first page. It bled at the edges, too much water and not enough control, but it was real. It was his.

It wasn’t for Baekjin.
It wasn’t to impress.
It didn’t have to be perfect.

And for the first time in a long time, that was enough.

---

Baekhyun was fifteen the first time it happened.

He didn’t understand what was going on at first—why his skin was on fire, why his body ached in strange, terrifying ways, why the sheets clung to his sweat-soaked skin as he curled up in pain in his attic room. His breaths were shallow, his body trembling, and there was a scent in the air that didn’t feel like it belonged to him—sweet, heady, and far too loud.

He thought he was just sick.

After all, he was a beta.

That’s what he had always been told.

He stayed upstairs, like always. His attic room had been his for as long as he could remember—not locked, but isolated, out of sight. He wasn’t allowed outside the house. Only down to the main floor when necessary. It was easier to be quiet, to stay invisible. He'd learned that early on.

By the second day of fever and confusion, he hadn’t come down once. The meals left at the door remained untouched. That was when one of the maids came up to check, worried.

She knocked, then pushed the door open—and stopped dead in her tracks.

The room was thick with scent, sticky and cloying. Baekhyun lay curled up on the mattress, trembling, a sheen of sweat on his flushed skin, lips parted as he panted softly.

The maid’s eyes widened in horror. She didn’t even finish calling his name. She rushed downstairs and immediately called for his mother.

“Ma’am… Baekhyun—he’s… he’s presenting.”

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Byun snapped.

“He’s—he’s in heat. There’s no mistake. He’s—he’s an omega.”

Silence.

Then the crashing sound of a chair tipping over.

She stormed up the stairs.

The door to the attic slammed open. Her perfume clashed with the scent already thick in the air, but it did nothing to hide the disgust twisting her face.

“What the hell is this?” she hissed, stepping inside like she was walking into filth. “What kind of joke are you playing now?”

Baekhyun, dazed and weak, barely lifted his head. His voice was fragile. “M-Mom…”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped immediately. Her voice was like a slap, sharp and venomous. “You don’t get to call me that. ”

He flinched. His lips trembled.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening to me…”

“You’re a beta!” she spat. “You were tested! This—this is not real!”

“But it hurts…” he whispered, voice cracking. “I didn’t fake it…”

“You’re trying too hard to be like him,” she growled. “Is that it? You want to be Baekjin so badly, you’re making yourself sick for attention now?”

Her voice made him shrink. Baekhyun shook his head quickly, lips trembling. “No—I’m not—I’m sorry…”

She turned and left without another word. He thought maybe it was over.

But an hour later, she returned with a bottle of suppressants—low-grade, wrong for his body—and threw it on his nightstand.

“Take them,” she ordered coldly. “If I smell that filth again tomorrow, I’ll double it.”

He obeyed.

He took the pills. One after another. The scent didn’t fade. The pain didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse. His body burned. His bones ached. His mind spun out of control.

When she returned the next day, still smelling the unmistakable heat lingering in the attic, she lost it.

“Are you refusing now?” she hissed. “Do you like being disgusting? Is this who you want to be?”

“No—I took them—I did—”

“You’re an embarrassment. You're not even good at being invisible.”

She brought a stronger dose that evening. Forced him to take it while she stood there. Then brought more the day after. She kept pushing it, increasing the dosage, stacking medications until Baekhyun could barely keep his eyes open. His limbs were heavy. His heart beat irregularly. His body, so new to the change, could hardly keep up.

On the fourth night, he collapsed in the middle of the room after trying to reach the bathroom.

Only then did someone finally call the family doctor.

The woman arrived with a tight-lipped frown, clearly summoned late. She knelt beside Baekhyun quietly, checking his pulse, brushing his sweat-matted hair away from his face.

And then she looked up sharply.

“He’s not a beta,” she said coldly. “He’s an omega. A late presenter. His body is struggling because his heat is stronger than most. And those suppressants you forced on him?” Her gaze turned sharp. “You could’ve killed him.”

Baekhyun’s mother said nothing.

“From now on, he’ll take the right prescription, carefully regulated. He needs space, quiet, food, and proper supervision. Omegas like him are extremely sensitive during their first heat. That should’ve been your priority.”

Still, she didn’t speak.

When the doctor left, Mrs. Byun stood at the door once again, this time holding a new bottle of suppressants with the correct dosage.

She didn’t apologize.

She didn’t even look at him.

“Take these,” she said flatly. “And don’t think this changes anything. You’ll never be him.”

Baekhyun didn’t know if she meant Baekjin… or just anyone worth loving.

He nodded weakly and whispered, “Okay.”

Because he was scared. And confused. And fifteen.

And because he didn’t understand why the truth of what he was made her hate him even more.

Chapter Text

He was eighteen when Baekjin became a famous model. An ethereal omega—delicate, poised, and adored by both cameras and society. Baekhyun watched his twin bloom across magazine covers and billboards, his name spoken like a blessing, while he remained upstairs—out of sight, out of mind. The attic had always been his, even before the lock. He could come downstairs to eat, to clean, to breathe—but never to exist.

Baekjin understood now what Baekhyun was. Not just his twin, but something lesser. An omega too, yes, but not the kind who sparkled. Baekhyun was quieter, meeker, eyes always on the floor. There was something fragile about him—like a candle constantly flickering in a storm.

Sometimes, Baekjin would think, *It’s not his fault he’s not confident like me.*
Other times, when their mother yelled too loud, when Baekhyun flinched too hard, Baekjin would look away and tell himself, *It has to be him. Not me. It can’t be me.*

He wasn’t proud of it. But he never stopped it either.

That same year, their parents finalized the arrangement. Baekjin was to be courted by the son of the powerful Park family. The match was perfect—two beautiful, well-bred alpha and omega, in love or at least in sync. It was all champagne and flattery the night the Parks came over for dinner.

The house was dressed in roses and rich perfume. Baekhyun, curious despite himself, crept downstairs quietly, staying near the walls, out of sight. He peeked through the gap in the hallway, careful not to make a sound.

And then he saw him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, handsome even now—Chanyeol. His smile hadn’t changed. Neither had his voice.

It had been a long time ago—Baekhyun and Baekjin’s birthday. He must’ve been eight. The fireworks had burst over the trees while Baekhyun, forgotten, wandered into the kitchen, hungry and alone. That’s when he saw the boy. A stranger with a kind smile who gave him something he had never tasted before: chocolate.

Sweet. Rich. Warm. A luxury.

Baekhyun had stared at it in awe before slowly placing it in his mouth, letting it melt on his tongue like it was something sacred. It was the first time he’d tasted chocolate. Their mother had placed him on a strict diet of boiled vegetables and white rice, terrified he might fall ill. She refused to take him to hospitals—afraid of questions, of people, of anyone knowing he existed.

That small square of chocolate had been the best birthday gift he ever received. He kept the wrapper in his sketchbook for years. Memorized the name: Chanyeol.

“I actually thought your name was Baekhyun at first,” Chanyeol said now, laughing lightly, eyes on Baekjin. “I remember asking you back then, but maybe I heard it wrong. You wouldn’t say much.”

Baekjin laughed with practiced ease. “You must’ve imagined it.”

Their parents chuckled—but not Baekhyun’s mother.

Her smile faded. Her hand gripped the wine glass tighter, jaw tense. Rage gathered in her silence. She hadn’t known. She hadn’t known they’d met. That Chanyeol had seen him. That he remembered his name.

Her stare turned icy, sharp with accusation—not toward Chanyeol, but toward the attic.

Baekhyun, hidden in the shadows, felt his chest ache. He had been remembered.

Even if it was a mistake.

---

Baekhyun stared out the attic window, the glass cold beneath his fingertips. The sky was deepening into twilight, stars beginning to flicker against the dusky blue. From where he sat, he could see the family cars still parked neatly along the driveway, their sleek forms glinting under the dim garden lights. The dinner must have gone well—they were still talking, still laughing, somewhere downstairs in the warmth he wasn’t allowed to touch.

Then, movement in the garden caught his eye.

His breath hitched.

There they were—Baekjin and Chanyeol—walking side by side along the stone path winding through the rose bushes. Baekhyun leaned closer, careful not to press too hard against the old window frame. He couldn’t hear them, but he could see Baekjin laugh, shoulders tilting back in that graceful way that made photographers fall in love with him. Chanyeol smiled, easy and golden under the garden lights. They looked good together—two people who belonged in the world below.

Baekhyun couldn’t look away, even though it felt wrong. Like trespassing on something private. But his eyes stayed fixed on them, tracing every small gesture, every shift in expression.

Then it happened.

Without hesitation, Chanyeol cupped Baekjin’s cheek and leaned in. Their lips met, slow at first, then deeper—passionate. Intimate. Like they were made for each other.

Baekhyun’s eyes widened, a gasp escaping his lips. Heat rushed to his face and he stumbled back from the window, heart pounding.

He’d never seen something like that before. Not in real life. Not with such closeness, such... hunger. His access to the television was limited, his books filtered. There was no space in his world for romance, for touch, for this kind of affection.

Baekhyun crawled back into bed, pulling the blanket over his head as if it could erase what he saw—or the aching, unfamiliar tightness it left behind in his chest.

He hadn’t meant to watch. But now he couldn't forget.

---

The house was quiet after the guests left, the clink of dishes gone and the faint scent of wine and roasted duck lingering in the air. Baekhyun stayed curled under his thin blanket in the attic room, trying to erase the image of Baekjin and Chanyeol kissing in the garden. His chest ached, but he didn't know why—was it jealousy? Shame? Loneliness?

He didn’t have time to make sense of it.

Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs, each one sharper, angrier than the last. The attic door slammed open with a force that made the walls tremble.

Baekhyun sat up quickly.

His mother stood there, face twisted in rage. Her eyes were dark and burning as they locked onto his.

“You met him,” she spat. “You met that boy before.”

Baekhyun’s lips parted, but no words came out.

She stormed toward him, her voice rising with each step. “You met Chanyeol as a child, didn’t you? You dared to speak to someone outside this house? You weren’t even allowed to be seen! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

Baekhyun shook his head weakly, voice trembling. “I-I didn’t know who he was—I was hungry—”

A sharp slap cracked through the room, snapping his head to the side.

“You filthy little whore.”

Baekhyun’s eyes watered instantly from the sting.

Another slap followed, harder than the first. His cheek burned, skin red and swollen. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t run. He just sat there, small and frozen, heart splintering under the weight of her hatred.

“You tried to seduce an alpha at that age? Are you that desperate? Is that what you are?”

Baekhyun could barely breathe. His throat closed, and the tears fell in silence.

His mother stared at him, chest heaving, and then turned away with disgust. “Baekjin is gonna marry Chanyeol and you are nothing. Remember that."

The door slammed shut behind her.

Baekhyun stayed there, the taste of salt on his lips. He brought his knees to his chest, curling into himself as sobs shook his thin frame—quiet, muffled cries no one would hear. No one ever did.

Chapter Text

Baekhyun’s mother used to be a famous model—graceful, elegant, the envy of many in her time. Her marriage into the Byun family was arranged, a transaction of names and wealth, but what she truly wanted out of it was simple: an omega child. Someone she could pamper, raise in her image, mold into the perfect heir to her legacy.

She got twins instead.

One omega, one beta.

The doctor’s announcement shattered her dreams.

From that day on, she looked at Baekhyun like he was a mistake.

Baekhyun was discarded quietly, tucked away in the background of the grand estate. The maids were the ones who raised him, fed him, clothed him when they could. It wasn’t perfect—far from it. A small accident during his early years left a thin cut on the side of his face, a wound that healed into a faint but visible scar. No one brought him to the hospital. No one even told him what really happened.

Baekhyun didn’t remember much from those early years. He didn’t remember being rejected or unloved. But he did remember being with the maids all the time, chasing their skirts, watching them cook, humming with them during chores. He remembered not having new clothes unless Baekjin gave him his run-downs—which Baekhyun truly appreciated. Every hand-me-down felt like a treasure.

He and Baekjin played sometimes, when the older boy wasn’t too busy with school or activities. But Baekhyun was homeschooled, always at home. Always inside.

His mother told him he was ugly. That omegas like him had no place outside. That the world was cruel, and people would laugh at someone like him. That he should stay hidden. That it was safer.

And so, Baekhyun believed her.

He never asked to go out. Never tried.

Only his private tutor seemed to look at him with something different in her eyes. Sometimes, when Baekhyun answered too quickly, too brightly, or smiled too sweetly at something he painted, she would turn away and wipe at her eyes.

One day, she told Mr. Byun that Baekhyun had talent. That he should be allowed to paint, that he deserved to express himself somehow.

It caused a fight. Mr. and Mrs. Byun argued about it for days. But in the end, his mother relented—not because she cared, but because it kept him quiet and away from people.

And so Baekhyun painted. At first, with cheap materials. Later, with better ones, when the tutor brought him gifts or Mr. Byun gave in. His room filled with color. The storage room too.

He painted the skies, oceans, cities he saw only in books. He painted people smiling in parks, flowers growing wild on open fields, and suns that never stopped shining. He painted dreams. His dreams.

He was content. Happy, even. Because even if he couldn’t step outside, he could still imagine what it would feel like—to live freely, to be seen, to breathe the world with his own eyes.

Someday.

---

It had been four years since Baekjin and Chanyeol got engaged.

Baekjin had just finished university—top of his class, as expected—and was now focusing into his modeling career, gaining more recognition. Everything seemed to fall into place for him, as it always did.

Meanwhile, Baekhyun finally said goodbye to his tutor.

She smiled through tears, telling him he was done with everything. That she had his certifications validated properly and handed them over to Mr. Byun herself. She said he had completed the entire academic program—quietly, privately, but thoroughly. She had made sure of it.

Baekhyun nodded politely, but in truth, he didn’t care much. He didn’t even know what the certificates were for. He had no plans, no idea of what a future meant outside the four walls of his room.

He just wanted to keep painting.

From the sidelines, Baekhyun watched his brother's life blossom like a well-tended garden. He saw the way Chanyeol looked at Baekjin—so openly, so lovingly. Every little gesture was filled with care: the way he fixed Baekjin’s coat when they were leaving, the way he laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t funny, the way his eyes softened whenever he watched Baekjin walk into a room.

It was different from the love their mother gave Baekjin. That love was sharp-edged and cold, full of expectations and pressure. But Chanyeol’s love… it was warm. Gentle. Unwavering.

Baekhyun had never seen anything like it.

He didn’t mean to envy them, but sometimes, when he saw Chanyeol carrying Baekjin’s things or waiting patiently outside the estate gate just to walk with him—he felt something. A tug in his chest he didn’t know how to name.

Chanyeol was perfect, after all.

Too perfect.

And Baekhyun didn’t understand what he felt. Not really.

Now, news echoed through the estate—soft at first, then louder as the date neared.

His brother was finally getting married to Park Chanyeol.

After months and months of planning, of tastings and fittings and guest list revisions, the grand wedding was finally happening.

Baekhyun heard the staff whisper about it constantly. The flowers were being imported. The designer was flying in from Paris. The guest list was filled with elite names.

It was going to be the celebration of the year.

Finally, soon, the Byun and Park businesses would merge.

Baekhyun overheard it in hushed conversations between the maids, in the dining hall between bites of food his mother barely touched. It was happening—everything the families had worked for was finally coming together. The Park heir and the Byun golden son, sealing it with a union that would mark a new era.

He also heard that once the merger was finalized, his father would no longer need to fly overseas so often. The thought made Baekhyun smile quietly. He didn’t say it out loud, but he missed having his father around, even if their conversations were brief, even if the man was usually busy and distracted. Just seeing him around the house made Baekhyun feel less… invisible.

That night, the whole estate buzzed with anticipation. The wedding was only hours away.

Everyone was running on adrenaline and perfectionism—every flower petal in its place, every crystal glass polished to a shine, every guest list triple-checked.

And then—Baekjin disappeared.

Vanished like smoke.

It started as a quiet confusion. A missed call. A locked bedroom door. Then Mrs. Park began pacing. Calling him repeatedly, her voice rising with each unanswered ring. She called again and again until her hands trembled. Panic set in when even his bodyguard couldn’t find him. She called in a private investigator before dawn.

No one found him.

Mrs. Park broke down, sobbing not just for her favorite son disappearing like a dream—but for the business, the legacy, the empire hanging in the balance. Everything they’d built for this moment. Everything.

Mr. Byun, furious and humiliated, threatened to cancel the wedding altogether. To pull out of the merger. His voice echoed down the hall, sharp as knives.

Until Mrs. Byun intervened.

She went to Baekjin’s room, searching for any sign—any clue. That’s when she found the note.

A simple piece of paper on the neatly made bed.

> Mom, I will be back soon. I love you.

No signature. Just the soft curve of her son’s handwriting, too calm for someone about to shatter everything.

Mrs. Byun stared at it for a long moment, then closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. Her mind began to move—fast and sharp, as it always did when desperate. And slowly, an idea formed.

She folded the note and slipped it into her pocket.

Then she whispered, “We can’t lose this.”

And she already had a plan.

---

Baekhyun couldn’t sleep.

It was still dark out, the sky painted in shades of fading navy and gray. He sat by the small easel near the window, brush in hand, dragging muted colors across a half-finished canvas. He wasn’t even sure what he was painting—just lines, shapes, a way to silence the ache in his chest.

Then the door burst open.

Baekhyun flinched, his brush slipping.

Mrs. Byun stepped in, sharp and cold like a winter gust, flanked by two maids. Before he could stand, her voice cut through the room.

"Strip him."

The maids didn’t hesitate. They walked toward him with lowered gazes, but firm hands. Baekhyun backed away instinctively.

"W-What—?" he barely managed, heart racing.

“Don’t talk,” she snapped.

The maids grabbed his arms.

“Please—” he whimpered, but then caught her eyes—icy, unreadable, and dangerous.

He froze.

They stripped him bare without care, and he let them, trembling, humiliated. His mother turned on her heel.

“Drag him to the bath.”

He was shivering when the cold water hit him. It soaked his hair, his skin, seeped into his bones. Baekhyun’s teeth chattered as he stood there, helpless. He didn’t cry. Not when the water was too cold. Not when the soap stung his eyes. His mother’s gaze had told him—crying would only make it worse.

They dressed him in a white robe, drying him briskly like he was something to be prepared. Something to be polished.

Mrs. Byun stood in front of him, gripping his chin hard enough to make him wince. Her voice was soft now, almost sweet.

“Be a good son,” she whispered. “Just this once.”

Baekhyun nodded. Quick. Frantic.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Cooperate.”

“I will.”

“Do not speak,” she said. “Whatever happens, you say nothing. The only words you’re allowed to say later… are ‘I do.’”

His stomach turned. “I do?” he echoed, but she slapped his arm—not hard, but hard enough.

“I said not to talk.”

He lowered his head. “Sorry…”

Satisfied with his fear, she turned and ordered, “Bring him.”

They led him down from the attic.

For the first time in years, Baekhyun saw unfamiliar faces, people in black suits moving around in eerie silence. Some were fixing flower arrangements. Others were adjusting camera equipment. Makeup kits. Lights.

Everyone paused when they saw him.

Baekhyun stood there, in his white robe, soaked hair clinging to his forehead, feeling utterly exposed.

“Don’t just stand there,” Mrs. Byun snapped at the staff. “Continue. You’re being paid.”

They turned away quickly, pretending not to stare.

The maids brought him to a chair, and that’s when he saw it: Baekjin’s suit. A crisp white blazer, tailored perfectly to fit.

They dressed him in it without a word. They applied makeup—foundation to hide the pallor of his skin, color on his lips, powder over his eyes.

Baekhyun didn’t understand.

He just sat still.

Obedient.

Just like she asked.

But something in his chest whispered that something was very, very wrong.

Chapter Text

When the last of the staff left, Baekhyun was finally allowed to look at himself in the mirror.

For a moment, he didn’t recognize the boy staring back.

He looked… beautiful.

Too beautiful.

His skin was smooth, flawless under the makeup. His lashes curled, his lips tinted a soft coral pink. His hair was styled neatly, hiding the fact that he’d just been dragged from bed and scrubbed clean like a doll.

He tilted his head slightly.

But the more he looked, the more something inside him began to sink.

He looked like Baekjin.

He didn’t see himself in the mirror. He saw his brother.

The curve of the brow, the set of the mouth, the expensive white suit… everything felt borrowed.

He looked elegant. Perfect.

Empty.

He didn’t like it.

Before he could step back, his mother approached again, this time alone.

She smiled.

Baekhyun froze.

It had been so long since he’d seen that smile. He almost forgot she could do that.

Her hand cupped his jaw, tilting his face gently toward hers, and her voice softened with a false warmth that made his blood run cold.

“Listen very carefully, Baekhyun.”

His throat tightened. He didn’t move, only looked at her, his heart drumming fast.

“You are going to pretend to be your brother… and marry Chanyeol. Do you understand?”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened. His lips parted slightly but no sound came out.

He didn’t dare speak.

She saw the fear in his face and gave him a tight, pleased smile.

“Don’t fuck this up,” she said, her voice low and sharp. “You need to make them sign the merger. Chanyeol won’t notice right away, but make sure it’s done before he does.”

Baekhyun’s fingers curled around the edge of the chair. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know what merger she meant or why she was doing this, but he nodded. Slowly. Obediently.

“Make him happy,” she added.

Then her hand slid down. She tapped his hip. Then his thigh.

Baekhyun stiffened.

“Use your body if you need to.”

Goosebumps prickled across his arms.

He didn’t fully understand what she meant, but his stomach twisted.

It felt wrong. All of this felt wrong.

He looked at her again, quietly begging her to change her mind.

But her eyes had already turned cold again.

This wasn’t a request.

It was an order.

And Baekhyun knew there was no way out.

---

Baekhyun had never been in a car before.

Not once in his entire life.

So when the black luxury vehicle pulled up in front of the house and the driver opened the door for him, he hesitated.

His mother gave him a sharp look, and he quickly stepped in, his palms clammy against the fabric of his suit.

He sat stiffly, too scared to move.

The moment the car began to roll forward, Baekhyun’s eyes widened.

His face turned toward the window, and for the first time, he saw the world outside his family’s walls. Truly saw it.

People.

So many of them, walking quickly on sidewalks, laughing with coffee cups in their hands, holding umbrellas under the bright sun.

Buildings taller than he imagined, reaching endlessly into the sky.

Cars lined up at stoplights. Children crossed the street holding balloons. Street vendors sold snacks he had only smelled from afar through open windows.

Life was everywhere. Loud and messy and vibrant.

Baekhyun had no words.

His heart ached at how big the world was. How much he had missed.

He pressed his fingers lightly to the glass window, eyes wide with quiet wonder.

But he didn’t say a thing.

His mother sat beside him, scrolling through her phone, unreadable.

So Baekhyun stayed quiet, swallowing the emotion in his throat, and just watched.

Like someone watching a dream from behind a cage.

---

When they finally arrived, the car stopped in front of a grand hotel.

Staff in uniforms lined the entrance, guests already buzzing around the ornate lobby.

Baekhyun stared at the tall golden doors and massive floral arrangements.

He had never seen anything like it.

The moment the door opened, nerves twisted painfully in his stomach.

He took one hesitant step outside, only to be grabbed by the wrist.

His mother’s grip was tight.

“No stalling,” she hissed.

He didn’t protest.

He let himself be dragged through the marble-floored lobby, past people who turned and stared at him, complimenting his beauty, his outfit, his resemblance to Baekjin.

Every word made him feel like he was sinking deeper into someone else’s skin.

---

The wedding venue inside the hotel was enormous.
Rows of white chairs lined with orchids.

A flower-lined aisle that seemed to stretch forever.

Music floated through the air, soft and romantic.

Baekhyun felt numb.

He knew what weddings were.

He had imagined them as a child. Quiet, sweet, small.

But this wasn’t that.

This was a deal. A performance. A cage, painted in gold.

When everything began, Baekhyun moved on instinct.

He followed each instruction like a machine.

Nodding. Walking. Sitting when told.

His feet felt heavy.

His breath uneven.

And then it was time to walk.

The doors opened.

All eyes turned.

Baekhyun stepped forward, walking down the aisle like a stranger in his own body.

The suit felt too stiff.

The shoes pinched his toes.

Every step echoed in his ears.

Then he saw him.

Chanyeol.

Tall, handsome, even more so than he remembered from pictures.

His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and he smiled as Baekhyun approached, clearly moved.

Baekhyun didn’t understand it.

He wasn’t the person Chanyeol thought he was.

But the way the alpha looked at him, with so much tenderness, made his chest twist.

When they finally stood face to face, Chanyeol took his hand.

Baekhyun flinched at the warmth but didn’t pull away.

Chanyeol’s scent hit him then.

Pine.

Clean and crisp, like the forest after rain.

It overwhelmed his senses.

He liked it.

Too much.

It made his knees slightly weak.

But he said nothing.

---

When it was time for vows, Chanyeol spoke first.

His voice was deep, sincere, filled with emotion Baekhyun couldn’t bear to hear.

Then the officiant turned to him.

Silence.

Baekhyun kept his head low.

He stared at the floor.

The words wouldn’t come.

He felt stupid.

Small.

Like a child caught stealing.

His fingers trembled in Chanyeol’s hand.

Someone cleared their throat behind him.

“He’s not feeling well,” his mother said smoothly. “Just nerves.”

The officiant nodded and moved on.

Baekhyun didn’t look up.

He didn’t breathe.

And then came the moment.

The moment everything would be sealed.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The room was quiet.

Baekhyun forced himself to look up, just a little.

Chanyeol smiled at him again, so softly.

Baekhyun’s voice was barely a whisper.

“…I do.”

And just like that, the ceremony moved forward.

No one noticed that he wasn’t Baekjin.

Not even Chanyeol.

Chapter Text

Baekhyun watched as the celebration went on. The reception was grand—too grand. It almost didn’t feel real. He kept still in his seat, eyes wide as chandeliers glittered above him and laughter echoed from every corner of the hall.

Suddenly, a memory slipped into his mind—Baekjin’s 18th birthday.

He remembered peeking from the attic window, heart pounding with longing as he watched the lights from below. The sparkling decorations, the massive cake, the well-dressed guests laughing and drinking champagne. Everything had seemed so distant, like a dream that didn’t belong to him.

And yet, here he was now.

His eyes trailed over the guests' lavish outfits—their shimmering jewelry, the delicate fabrics, the way their laughter flowed so freely. Everything fascinated him.

“You okay, babe?” Chanyeol’s voice pulled him back, soft and low, right beside his ear.

They sat at the center table, surrounded by the sounds of silverware and gentle applause. Baekhyun’s plate was untouched. He glanced at his mother across the room. She was watching him closely, her eyes sharp, waiting for him to make a single mistake. He just knew she'd slap him in front of everyone if he did.

“Mmm,” he nodded quickly, not daring to say more.

Then he felt something he didn’t expect—Chanyeol’s lips pressing gently to the side of his head.

Baekhyun’s heart skipped a beat.

It was warm. Too warm.

And for the first time since this nightmare began, he felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest.

Safety.

Like maybe—just maybe—someone could protect him from the fear crawling beneath his skin.

The program continued. Baekhyun stared blankly as the emcee announced the moment everyone had been waiting for. The Parks and his mother stood and signed a large, gold-trimmed document. People clapped and raised their glasses. A deal had been sealed.

A marriage and a merger.

Baekhyun looked toward his mother, who smirked at him across the room. His stomach twisted. Maybe he had done a good job after all. Maybe she'd finally take him home.

But as that thought came, he felt something else stir deep inside him.

He didn’t want to go back yet.

He shuffled in his seat nervously. There was still so much of the world outside. He wanted to see more of it—even just a little longer.

As the guests began to leave, some lingering to drink and dance, he felt a hand slip around his waist.

Baekhyun froze.

“Let’s go?” Chanyeol whispered, his breath warm as it touched the skin of Baekhyun’s neck.

The scent of pine overwhelmed him. He didn’t understand what was happening, but his body tensed with nerves. He nodded.

Chanyeol helped him up, holding his hand as they walked out of the venue. Baekhyun’s steps were small, and he could feel how much taller and broader the alpha was beside him.

He looked so strong in his black suit, his shoulders wide, posture confident.

Baekhyun looked down at himself and felt tiny. His frame was soft, delicate—his curves too noticeable in his white clothes. He felt more like a doll than a person.

Chanyeol opened the car door for him and let him slide into the passenger seat of a sleek, dark car. Then the alpha got behind the wheel, his smile bright as he started the engine.

He looked so happy.

Baekhyun turned to look at him for a second—but quickly looked away when Chanyeol glanced back. He kept his gaze out the window instead.

The city at night was even more beautiful. Lights sparkled like stars trapped in buildings. Neon signs flashed, cars zipped past, and people bustled along sidewalks under the orange glow of streetlamps.

Baekhyun pressed his hand gently to the glass.

He memorized everything.

The details, the colors, the mood—he wanted to paint it someday. He had to.

When they arrived, Chanyeol brought him to a penthouse nestled at the top of one of the tallest buildings he’d ever seen.

And when Baekhyun stepped inside, his breath caught in his throat.

The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the entire city.

It was like being inside a painting.

And for the first time in his life, Baekhyun felt excited.

But he stayed quiet. Just in case.

Because he didn’t want Chanyeol to know. Not yet.

But Baekhyun knew Chanyeol wasn’t stupid.
He could feel the alpha’s eyes on him all day—watching, reading, measuring.
It wasn’t just his mother keeping him under a microscope.

And he knew it was only a matter of time.

He and Baekjin were too different.
Too far apart in mannerisms, in tone, in the way they carried themselves.
Eventually, Chanyeol would notice.

The question was—what would happen when he did?

Would he get mad?
Would he shout?
Would he… hit him, the way his mother did?

The thought chilled him.
But Baekhyun forced himself to stand still, to be calm, because as always—there was no one else to run to.

---

“Babe, are you tired? You’ve been quiet all day.”

Chanyeol’s voice was soft, sweet even, as he stepped up behind Baekhyun and wrapped an arm snugly around his waist. They stood by the massive window of the penthouse, the city glittering far below them.

Baekhyun’s lips parted slightly, but before he could answer, shivers crawled down his spine—Chanyeol’s lips were brushing against his neck.

Slow. Deliberate.

Baekhyun froze. His body locked in place, but Chanyeol didn’t stop. His lips trailed heat along Baekhyun’s skin, and his scent—the deep pine Baekhyun had grown to like—flooded his senses until his heart hammered against his ribs.

And then, like a crashing wave, it hit him.

He knew what marriage was.
He knew what came next.

His private tutor had explained it to him long ago, in quiet tones and with gentle warnings.
He understood, now, what his mother meant when she said to use his body if he needed to.

He wasn’t going home tonight.

---

Chanyeol shifted, turning Baekhyun gently to face him.

And then—he leaned in, trying to kiss him.

Baekhyun stayed frozen, lips pressed tightly together.

That was when Chanyeol stilled.
He leaned back just enough to search Baekhyun’s face, his brows knitting together. His gaze darkened, eyes narrowing as though he were piecing together a puzzle.

“You’re not Baekjin.”

The words weren’t shouted—but they were sharp.
They cut through the air like a blade.

Before Baekhyun could even respond, Chanyeol shoved him away. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make the smaller omega stumble and nearly lose his balance.

Baekhyun’s breath hitched. His anxiety spiked as he met Chanyeol’s furious expression. His chest tightened and tears stung his eyes.

“Where is Baekjin? Who are you?!”

The alpha’s voice was deep, demanding.

Baekhyun’s entire body trembled. He felt like a small, helpless puppy being kicked into the cold.

“I… I don’t know,” he whispered, barely audible as silent tears rolled down his cheeks.

Chanyeol dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly as if trying to calm the storm building in his chest.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Baekhyun’s mind flashed back—to the only other time he’d stood before Chanyeol, introducing himself. But back then, it had been innocent.
Now, it felt like a crime.

“…I’m Baekhyun,” he murmured, just loud enough for Chanyeol to hear.

A bitter laugh escaped the alpha. “Unbelievable… So this is why your mother called me last night—pretending to be worried, telling me to look for Baekjin. He’s gone, isn’t he? And she replaced him with you? A twin?”

“I’m sorry.”

The words were fragile, small.
He had known it was wrong from the beginning, yet he followed her orders anyway. Because he was scared.

“Fuck this.”

Chanyeol’s jaw clenched. He looked ready to yell again, but he forced himself to hold back. “They fucking gave me a clone.”

The word clone made Baekhyun flinch.
It was exactly how he had felt all day—painted, dressed, and molded into his brother’s shadow.

Without another word, Chanyeol strode to the door, yanked it open, and pulled Baekhyun toward it.

“Go home.”

He pushed him gently but firmly out into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind him.

Baekhyun stood frozen.

The quiet hallway stretched around him, the soft hum of the elevator the only sound.

He stared at the closed door, unsure what to do.
Whether to knock, to plead… or to run.

But all he could do was stand there—small, lost, and completely alone.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol sat slouched on the edge of the couch, the city lights spilling in through the tall glass windows, a half-empty bottle of wine on the coffee table.

The soft hum of the penthouse felt suffocating. Too quiet. Too still.

He raised his phone again, dialing Baekjin’s number for what felt like the hundredth time.

*Beep… beep…*

“Hi, this is Baekjin. Leave a message after the—”

Chanyeol exhaled sharply and ended the call before the tone could finish.

He immediately redialed.

The same voicemail. Again.

With a growl of frustration, he tossed the phone onto the couch cushion and reached for his wine glass, downing what was left in one long swallow.

The burn in his throat didn’t help.
Neither did the pounding in his head.

Grabbing the phone again, he started calling their friends—then Baekjin’s friends.

Each conversation was the same:

“No, I haven’t seen him.”
“Wasn’t he with you?”
“You left the reception with your husband, right?”

The word husband made Chanyeol’s stomach twist.

He poured himself another glass, his hand trembling slightly. He wanted to smash it against the wall, to break something just to release the pressure building inside him.

But he didn’t.
Instead, he took a slow, shaky breath and closed his eyes.

They had been so happy.
So excited.

But now…
Now, the pieces were falling into place.
The signs he ignored.
The little details that didn’t fit.

And for the first time that night, his chest ached in a way that wasn’t just from anger.

Chanyeol grabbed his coat and keys. His feet carried him toward the door, the plan already forming in his mind. He would go to their place—the Dalhae. A quiet little spot only he and Baekjin shared. A serene spot by the shore at the end of the city where moonlight dances over the waves, perfect for quiet conversations. Maybe, just maybe he is there.

But when he swung the door open—

He froze.

Baekhyun was still there.

Standing in the hallway, pressed slightly to the side, as if trying to stay out of sight. His posture was hesitant, small, almost apologetic.

His head lifted when he saw the door open.

And his eyes… lit up.
Like he had been waiting.
Like he’d been hoping Chanyeol would open the door again.

Chanyeol stared at him, wine-heavy confusion swirling in his head.

The sharp anger in his chest dulled into something else—confusion, irritation, and… a strange, unwilling curiosity.

Why was he still here?
Why did he look so… lost?
Why did it seem like he didn’t know what to do next?

And more than anything—

Why did a part of Chanyeol want to ask him why?

"Why are you still here? I told you to go home," Chanyeol said, his voice cold.

Baekhyun pressed his lips together before answering quietly.
"I… I don’t know which way is home."

He felt so shy—he hadn’t spoken to a stranger in so long. Still, a small relief bloomed in his chest when Chanyeol opened the door for him again.

Chanyeol inhaled deeply before walking toward the elevator. Baekhyun quickly followed like a small, obedient puppy, scared to be left behind. He watched closely as Chanyeol pressed the button and the doors slid open, then close.

"Why did you agree to this?" Chanyeol asked, his tone still sharp. He didn’t know this person standing beside him, yet here he was—married to him under his fiancé’s name. It was insane.

"Ha?" Baekhyun tilted his head slightly, looking as if he didn’t understand the question. His face was too innocent for the situation.
"Oh… Mother told me to."

"So you’re okay with this, Baekhyun? Being married to a stranger? Don’t you have a life of your own?" Chanyeol’s irritation was building.

"I’m… no… I just paint."

Chanyeol stared at him, unsure if he was being deliberately vague or truly didn’t understand the weight of his words. This could be some twisted plan from the beginning… or maybe Baekjin had his own issues with him. Either way, he needed answers.

The drive back to the Byun estate was tense.

Mrs. Byun was surprised to see them that evening, just hours after the wedding. But the moment her eyes landed on Baekhyun standing beside Chanyeol, her expression shifted sharply.

"You tricked me," Chanyeol growled, shoving Baekhyun lightly toward her. "You replaced my fiancé and thought you could fool me? Where is Baekjin?!"

For a moment, she looked cornered by the confrontation—then her anger turned on Baekhyun like a blade.

Without hesitation, she struck him across the face.

"I told you to do your best, didn’t I, Baekhyun? And in just a few hours, you’ve been revealed!" she screamed, her voice venomous. "You should have used that tiny brain and your body! You’re useless!"

Her hand came down again. And again. Each hit sharp, unrelenting.

Chanyeol froze.

It was the first time he had ever seen a male omega—someone so small, so fragile—being beaten by his own mother. The cruelty in her eyes was nothing like the warm affection she always showed Baekjin.

And for a moment, Chanyeol wasn’t just angry.
He was horrified.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol’s jaw clenched as he stepped forward, catching Baekhyun by the arm and pulling him away from his mother’s grasp.
Baekhyun stumbled into him, sobbing, his small hands clutching at Chanyeol’s sleeve.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” he kept repeating, voice shaking, tears wetting his flushed cheeks.

“Enough,” Chanyeol muttered, holding him firmly behind his side.

Mrs. Byun’s eyes blazed. “You don’t understand, Chanyeol. Baekjin is gone. He disappeared without a word. I’m devastated—worried sick for my precious son—and instead of helping me find him, you’re standing here protecting him?” She spat the word like Baekhyun’s very existence was an insult.

Chanyeol stared at her in disbelief. “So that justifies this? You did this to your other son—your own blood—just for a business merger?” His voice was low but sharp, each word carrying weight.

She didn’t flinch. “Baekhyun has always been… different. Weak. This was the least he could do for the family.”

“You’re terrible,” Chanyeol said coldly. “Not just as a mother—but as a human being.”

Her lips tightened, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply. With one arm shielding Baekhyun, he guided him quickly toward the door. The omega’s trembling was so bad, Chanyeol could feel it through his suit sleeve.

The moment they reached his car, Baekhyun curled in on himself in the passenger seat, pulling his knees slightly in, his head bowed. His face was already swollen, the skin around his eyes and cheekbone darkening.

Chanyeol gripped the steering wheel tightly, resisting the urge to turn back and say more. Instead, he drove. He didn’t even have to think about where—his hands took them straight back to his penthouse.

When they pulled into the underground parking, Chanyeol glanced at Baekhyun. “You’re safe here,” he said quietly. “I won’t let her hurt you again.”

Baekhyun only nodded, still staring at his hands.

Once inside, Chanyeol poured him a glass of water, setting it gently on the table before speaking again. “Where have you been all this time? I didn’t even know Baekjin had a twin. I thought maybe you studied abroad or something.”

Baekhyun hesitated, then shook his head. “No… I was just… at home.”

Chanyeol frowned. “At home?”

Baekhyun didn’t elaborate, his lips pressing into a thin line. The silence that followed felt heavy. Chanyeol wanted to push for answers, but looking at the omega’s hunched shoulders and red-rimmed eyes, he decided against it.

“Alright,” he said softly. “We’ll talk later. Just rest for now.”

He showed Baekhyun to the guest room, the space warm and quiet. From his own closet, Chanyeol pulled out a loose shirt and soft sweatpants, setting them neatly on the bed.

“They’ll be big on you, but at least they’ll be comfortable,” he said.

Baekhyun took them with a timid nod, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you.”

And that was how their wedding night ended—not in celebration, not in romance, but with Baekhyun curled beneath a borrowed blanket in Chanyeol’s guest room, and Chanyeol standing in the doorway, wondering just what kind of life this boy had been living all along.

---

The smell of fried eggs and bacon lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee.
Chanyeol set two plates down on the dining table, the food still warm. He wasn’t much of a cook, but this was simple enough.

He glanced at the guest room door.
It was already close to noon.
Still no sign of Baekhyun.

With a small frown, Chanyeol wiped his hands on a dish towel and walked over.
He knocked gently.
“Baekhyun? You awake?”

The door opened almost immediately.

Baekhyun stood there, small and hesitant, swimming in Chanyeol’s oversized T-shirt and sweatpants.
The fabric hung loosely off his thin frame, the sleeves nearly covering his hands.

The morning light caught the side of his face—and Chanyeol’s stomach tightened.
A dark bruise had bloomed along his cheekbone, a harsh reminder of the slap from last night.

“You okay?” Chanyeol asked quietly.

Baekhyun didn’t answer, only lowered his gaze.

“I made breakfast,” Chanyeol continued, keeping his voice soft. “Come eat with me.”

Baekhyun hesitated but nodded once, following him into the dining area.
He hovered awkwardly at the edge of the table, unsure if he should sit.

“Sit,” Chanyeol said gently.

Baekhyun obeyed, folding his hands in his lap while Chanyeol placed two sunny-side-up eggs and a few strips of bacon on his plate.

“Eat,” Chanyeol encouraged, sliding the plate closer.

But Baekhyun didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asked.

“I… I’m not allowed to eat this,” Baekhyun said in a small voice. “Only vegetables and rice.”

Chanyeol blinked. “Not allowed? Why?”

Baekhyun shook his head. “Mother said.”

For a moment, Chanyeol thought maybe Baekhyun was vegetarian.
“Do you have allergies? Or a health reason?”

“No.” The answer was short, final. “Mother said.”

Chanyeol leaned back in his chair, studying him.
He was trying to piece it together—Baekhyun’s life, his rules, the strange restrictions. None of it made sense.

“Well,” Chanyeol said after a pause, “your mother’s not here. And you’re too skinny. Eat.”

Baekhyun stared at the plate for a long moment. Then, hesitantly, he picked up the fork and cut into the egg, the yolk spilling across the white. He took a bite.

His eyes widened slightly as he chewed. Slowly.

He didn’t say a word, but Chanyeol could tell.
He liked it.

Something in Chanyeol’s chest twisted—pity, maybe, or something heavier.
It was just bacon and eggs. So ordinary.
But the way Baekhyun looked at it… like it was rare, precious.

“You know,” Chanyeol said after a moment, leaning an elbow on the table, “I think I remember you. From when we were kids.”

Baekhyun looked up at him, curious.

“I thought I was mistaken,” Chanyeol continued. “I thought maybe your name was Baekhyun, not Baekjin. But now…” He shook his head slightly. “Now I can’t believe you’re actually a different person.”

Baekhyun’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile.
“You gave me a chocolate bar,” he said softly. “It was the sweetest thing I ever tasted… and the best birthday gift I ever got.” His eyes sparkles just remembering that moment.

Chanyeol didn’t know how to respond.

So he just sat there, watching him quietly, wondering what kind of life someone had to live for bacon, eggs, and a chocolate bar to feel like the best gifts in the world.

Chanyeol didn’t speak for a long time.
He just kept watching Baekhyun eat in small, slow bites—as if afraid the food would vanish if he ate too quickly.

The bruise on his cheek seemed darker in the daylight.
The loose clothes made him look even smaller.

Something gnawed at Chanyeol’s thoughts.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
“Baekhyun… can I ask you something?”

Baekhyun froze mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air.

“How old are you?”

Baekhyun lowered his fork. “Twenty-two.”

“Okay…” Chanyeol studied him closely. “Then tell me—where have you been all this time?”

Baekhyun’s eyes flickered, uneasy. “Home.”

“That’s it?”

He nodded. “I’m always home.”

Chanyeol frowned. “Always? What about school? Friends? Traveling?”

“No.” Baekhyun’s tone was flat, matter-of-fact. “Mother didn’t let me.”

The answer hit Chanyeol harder than he expected.

“Didn’t let you? You mean… ever?”

Baekhyun shook his head. His expression didn’t change—it was like he was stating something as ordinary as the weather.

Chanyeol leaned forward on the table. “So you’ve never… been anywhere? Outside?”

Baekhyun hesitated, then said quietly, “Yesterday was my first time in a car.”

Chanyeol’s hand stilled on the table.

It was impossible.
No wonder Baekhyun had looked at the city like it was a dream.

He swallowed, forcing his voice steady. “And you never told anyone? Not even your brother?”

Baekhyun shook his head again. “Baekjin… has his life. I have mine.”

There was no bitterness in his voice—just a quiet acceptance that made Chanyeol’s stomach knot.

Baekhyun lowered his gaze, voice dropping even softer. “Mother said… I’m ugly. That I should stay home so I don’t embarrass the family.”

Chanyeol’s chest tightened. He stared at Baekhyun, and for the first time, he really looked.

That’s when he saw it—there's a faint thin scar near his jaw.

He didn’t push further. Not now.
But his mind was racing.

Baekhyun had been locked away his whole life.
He had no freedom, no choices, no one looking out for him.

And now… he had been thrown into this marriage, forced to pretend to be someone else, just to seal a business deal.

Chanyeol sat back slowly, watching Baekhyun finish his plate.

For the first time since the wedding, one thing was clear:
Whatever this was… whatever the Byuns had done to him…

Baekhyun didn’t need a husband right now.

He needed someone to save him.

Chapter Text

By late afternoon, Chanyeol had thrown on a jacket and was lacing up his shoes.
“I’m heading out to start looking for Baekjin,” he said over his shoulder. “You’ll be okay here?”

Baekhyun was curled up on the couch, knees drawn up slightly under Chanyeol’s oversized sweats. He didn’t look up. “Yeah,” he said watching him.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm used to it." He murmured.

Something about the way he said it made Chanyeol pause. He tightened his laces, glancing back at the omega who sat so still it was almost unnatural.

He thought for a moment. Then, quietly, “Maybe you should come with me today.”

Baekhyun’s head lifted, eyes widening just slightly before he caught himself. He quickly looked away, trying to mask the flicker of excitement. “If… if you want me to,” he said carefully.

Chanyeol caught the shift in his voice anyway. “Yeah. Come on.”

They didn’t get far before Chanyeol realized Baekhyun’s clothes were a problem. The thin T‑shirt hung off him, the sweatpants nearly swallowing his small frame. The slippers on his feet were soft and worn, more like indoor house shoes than anything meant for going out.

“First stop, clothes,” Chanyeol decided.

Baekhyun blinked. “Clothes?”

“Comfortable ones,” Chanyeol clarified. “Ones that fit you.”

Baekhyun nodded, though it was clear he didn’t fully understand. Still, he followed without complaint.

It wasn’t until they stepped into the mall that Chanyeol realized just how new this was for him. Baekhyun froze for half a second in the wide, open space. His eyes darted from the gleaming glass storefronts to the crowds moving in every direction. He shifted closer, his hand hesitating before lightly catching the edge of Chanyeol’s jacket.

Chanyeol glanced down. Without a word, he reached back and took Baekhyun’s wrist instead, the touch firm but reassuring. He felt Baekhyun’s tension ease, if only slightly.

They entered a boutique. The soft lighting, polished floors, and neatly arranged displays seemed to shrink Baekhyun further into himself. His gaze kept flicking toward the exit.

“You okay?” Chanyeol asked.

Baekhyun’s voice was small. “We should go home. Please.”

“Not yet,” Chanyeol said gently. “We’re here to get you clothes. Things that will be yours. So you’ll be comfortable.”

Baekhyun’s brow furrowed as if trying to process the words. “My… own clothes?”

“Yes. Ones you pick out.”

The confusion in Baekhyun’s eyes was almost painful to see. He looked at Chanyeol like he’d just spoken in another language. His gaze shifted to the racks of shirts and jeans, then back to Chanyeol. “I can… choose?”

“Of course,” Chanyeol said.

Baekhyun’s expression wavered. The faintest smile threatened to form, before it quickly faded again. He dropped his eyes. “I… I don’t have money.”

Chanyeol laughed, not unkindly. “I’m paying. Obviously.”

Baekhyun blinked up at him, still unsure, as though trying to decide whether to believe it.

Chanyeol gave his wrist a light squeeze. “You’re allowed to have nice things, Baekhyun. Let’s start with that.”

---

The sales attendant carried a small pile of shirts and sweatpants into the fitting room, smiling politely at Baekhyun.
“Just try these on, sir,” she said before stepping away.

Baekhyun lingered near the racks, hands fidgeting at his sides. Chanyeol noticed the way he stayed still, eyes flitting over the rows of shirts but making no move to take one.

“Go ahead,” Chanyeol said gently. “Pick what you like.”

Baekhyun blinked. “Me… pick?”

“Yes. For you,” Chanyeol said with a small smile. “It’s yours to wear. You should choose it yourself.”

Baekhyun stepped forward slowly, fingertips brushing over the fabrics. Every time his hand hovered on something, a soft hoodie, a neatly folded shirt — he’d glance at Chanyeol as if asking silently, Is this okay?

Chanyeol would give a small nod, and only then would Baekhyun carefully lift it from the rack, holding it close like it might be taken away if he wasn’t careful.

When his hand landed on a baby pink sweater, he lingered longer than usual. He looked over his shoulder, almost sheepish. “It’s… pretty.”

Chanyeol nodded without hesitation. “Take it.”

Baekhyun’s lips curved just slightly, but he quickly ducked his head. One by one, he gathered a few more pieces, each time looking to Chanyeol for silent confirmation before taking them.

When he stepped out of the fitting room wearing the baby pink sweater, Chanyeol’s gaze softened. The color suited him perfectly, giving him a gentle warmth.

“That one’s perfect,” Chanyeol said. “Baby pink looks good on you.”

Baekhyun’s fingers curled around the hem of the sweater, and this time, his small smile lingered just a little longer.

With their bags of clothes in hand, Chanyeol led Baekhyun toward the shoe store. The bright displays and walls lined with endless styles made Baekhyun slow his steps, eyes darting around like he wasn’t sure he should even be there.

“Alright,” Chanyeol said lightly, “time to get you a real pair of shoes.”

Baekhyun hesitated near the entrance. “I… I don’t know which ones to choose.”

“Then let’s look together.”

They walked along the aisles, Chanyeol occasionally stopping to point out a pair. Baekhyun would glance at the shoes, then at Chanyeol, his expression almost asking, Do you think I’m allowed to like this one?

When Chanyeol nodded, Baekhyun would step closer, running tentative fingers over the fabric or laces. But he never reached for anything on his own.

Eventually, his gaze landed on a pair of plain white sneakers. Clean, simple, nothing flashy. He paused there for a long moment, then looked at Chanyeol as if seeking silent permission.

Chanyeol gave him an encouraging nod. “Try them.”

Baekhyun bent down to slip them on. The moment his foot settled inside, his posture stiffened. He shifted his toes, testing the snug but comfortable fit, before looking down at them like they were something rare.

And then, unexpectedly, his eyes shimmered. He quickly ducked his head, tugging his sleeve up to swipe at the corners of his eyes as if trying to hide it.

But Chanyeol noticed.

“Hey,” Chanyeol murmured, crouching down in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

Baekhyun’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I… I’ve never had shoes before.”

Chanyeol blinked. “Never?”

Baekhyun shook his head. “I was always inside the house. Mother said I didn’t need them. That it would be a waste. So I just… wore slippers.”

Something heavy pressed in Chanyeol’s chest. He rested a hand lightly on Baekhyun’s knee. “Baekhyun… that’s not okay.”

Baekhyun gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “It’s silly to cry over shoes.”

“No,” Chanyeol said firmly. “It’s not silly.”

Without another word, he reached forward and pulled Baekhyun into a gentle hug. Baekhyun froze for just a second before leaning in, his fingers curling slightly into Chanyeol’s jacket.

“You deserve to have them,” Chanyeol said quietly. “You deserve so much more.”

And for the first time, Baekhyun didn’t try to hide his smile , small, fragile, but real as Chanyeol stood and told the clerk, “We’ll take them.”

By the time they finished at the shoe store, Chanyeol figured it was time to feed the omega.
He didn’t want to overwhelm him with noise or stares, so he chose a small, quiet restaurant tucked away from the busier parts of the mall.

Baekhyun sat across from him, hands folded neatly in his lap, eyes roaming the cozy interior with quiet curiosity. Chanyeol ordered for both of them, keeping the choices simple.

Halfway through the meal, Baekhyun set his fork down. “I’m… full.”

“You barely ate,” Chanyeol said gently.

Baekhyun shrugged slightly. “It’s enough.”

Chanyeol didn’t push. Instead, he glanced at the dessert menu. “Then we’ll get you something sweet.”

When the waiter set down the bowl, Baekhyun’s eyes went wide.
The dessert looked like a dream, scoops of chocolate ice cream drizzled with syrup, crowned with pastel marshmallows and a scattering of rainbow sprinkles.

Baekhyun leaned forward slightly, gaze fixed on it as if it were some rare treasure.
“You can eat it,” Chanyeol prompted with a small smile.

Baekhyun picked up the spoon awkwardly. Chanyeol leaned in, showing him how to scoop neatly so it wouldn’t spill. “Like this.”

The omega followed his instructions, then took his first bite.
His eyes fluttered shut as the sweetness melted on his tongue, and a soft hum escaped him.
“This is…” he whispered, pausing to find the word, “…so sweet… and soft.”

Chanyeol couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. Watching Baekhyun savor every spoonful was like watching a child eat his favorite treat for the first time.

Baekhyun, of course, was oblivious to the way he looked, the small smudge of chocolate on his lip, the way he leaned in over the bowl.

When Chanyeol noticed the mess, he reached for a tissue. “Hold still.”
Baekhyun obediently stayed put while Chanyeol gently wiped the smear from his lips.

No flinch. No hesitation. Just quiet trust.

“Careful,” Chanyeol murmured, “or you’ll get it all over your face.”

Baekhyun smiled faintly and went right back to eating, every bite followed by another little murmur of delight.
“This is my favorite now,” he said between spoonfuls. “My absolute favorite.”

When they left the restaurant, Baekhyun was noticeably lighter, a little bounce in his step, his new sneakers tapping against the mall floor. He kept glancing down at them like he still couldn’t believe they were his.

But the day had clearly worn him out.

By the time they reached Chanyeol’s car, Baekhyun’s shoulders slumped. He leaned his head back against the seat, eyes half-lidded, before they even pulled out of the parking lot.

Within minutes, he was asleep, breathing slow and even.

Chanyeol glanced at him, then back at the road.
“Tomorrow,” he murmured to himself. “We’ll just look for Baekjin tomorrow.”

For now, he drove them home in silence, letting Baekhyun rest.

Chapter Text

Baekhyun woke the next morning in the guest room’s bed, soft sunlight spilling across the floor.
For a moment, he lay there, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling. He didn’t even try to piece together how he had gotten there from the car last night. Instead, his first thought was of his new things.

He scrambled out of bed barefoot, searching the room.
The paper bags were in the living room, neatly placed on the couch. His brand-new sneakers sat on the shoe rack beside Chanyeol’s much larger pairs.

He picked them up carefully, running his fingers over the smooth white leather, almost as if afraid he might scuff them just by touching them.

Behind him, Chanyeol leaned against the doorway, watching with a small smile. “Morning.”

Baekhyun startled slightly, glancing over his shoulder. “Morning…”

“Come on,” Chanyeol said, tilting his head toward the kitchen. “Help me with breakfast.”

Baekhyun followed him in, padding softly across the floor. He moved a little awkwardly, not quite sure what to do, so Chanyeol handed him a bowl of eggs and a whisk.

“Stir these for me,” Chanyeol instructed.

Baekhyun concentrated on the task, whisking slowly while Chanyeol chopped vegetables. The scent of sizzling bacon soon filled the air. For a moment, it felt… normal. Like they had done this a hundred times before.

When breakfast was done, they ate together in quiet comfort before heading out again.
Chanyeol had a private investigator on the case, but so far there were no leads on Baekjin’s whereabouts. The call he took on the way didn’t bring any new hope.

They drove for a while until they reached the coast, the sea stretching endlessly, waves breaking against the shore.

Baekhyun’s eyes lit up instantly. “It’s… beautiful…”

He walked ahead, shoes crunching softly in the sand before stepping too close to the water. The waves rushed in, splashing over his sneakers, dampening the hem of his pants.

Chanyeol stayed on a bench nearby, phone in hand, watching the omega laugh softly to himself as he stared at the horizon. He looked like a child discovering something magical for the first time.

By the time Chanyeol pocketed his phone and called out, “We should get going,” Baekhyun trudged back toward him with his head lowered.

His pants were soaked halfway up his calves, and the pristine sneakers were dripping wet.

“I… got them wet,” Baekhyun admitted quietly, holding out his foot like he was showing evidence of a crime. His gaze lingered on the shoes, his voice small. “They’re new…”

Chanyeol let out a soft sigh, fighting the urge to laugh. “It’s okay. They’ll dry.”

But Baekhyun still looked at them with genuine sadness, as if he had ruined something irreplaceable.

Baekhyun sat squatting on the floor in front of the laundry machine, his chin resting lightly on his knees, eyes following every slow spin of the drum as if it were the most important thing in the world. His damp sweater and pants tumbled inside, thumping softly against the glass door.

Chanyeol glanced over from the balcony where he was crouched, carefully patting Baekhyun’s soaked sneakers with a dry towel before setting them under the afternoon sun. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“No need to sit there, Baekhyuna,” Chanyeol called, brushing his hands off on his pants. “It’ll dry later. You have other clothes anyway.”

Baekhyun hesitated, then finally stood, padding quietly toward him. “How long will it take to finish?” he asked softly.

“Not long,” Chanyeol assured, stepping back inside.

Baekhyun’s brows knitted slightly. “I’m sorry… for ruining them.”

Chanyeol shook his head. “You didn’t ruin anything. They’re just wet, that’s all. They’ll dry right away.”

Still, Baekhyun’s gaze dropped, his voice smaller. “…Sorry.”

Chanyeol let out a small sigh, motioning toward the couch. “Come here. Sit with me.”

Baekhyun obeyed, perching on the edge of the cushion like he wasn’t sure he belonged there.

Chanyeol reached over to the coffee table, picking up an iPad. “Here,” he said, holding it out. “Do you know how to use one?”

Baekhyun’s lips quirked in a faint smile. “I’ve seen Baekjin play with it… when we were younger.”

“Then it should be easy,” Chanyeol said, unlocking the screen and handing it over.

But Baekhyun didn’t take it right away. Instead, he glanced up at Chanyeol’s face, almost searching for a sign that he was truly allowed.

“You can touch it,” Chanyeol said with a short laugh. “It’s not going to bite.”

Baekhyun tilted his head slightly, still hesitant. “…You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

Only then did Baekhyun accept it, holding the device delicately like it was breakable. Chanyeol set it fully into his lap. “Go on. Try something.”

Baekhyun tapped the screen with care, but in seconds he had clicked into the wrong app. Frowning faintly, he pressed a button and accidentally opened another.

“Not that one,” Chanyeol said, leaning in to point. “Here, this icon.”

They went through the same mistake a few more times, but Chanyeol noticed how quickly Baekhyun adapted. After just a few tries, he was swiping and tapping without hesitation, his expression faintly proud.

From his spot beside him, Chanyeol let his gaze wander for a moment. Baekhyun’s pajama shorts left his legs bare, his posture relaxed now as he focused on the game on the screen. He wasn’t like Baekjin at all.

Baekjin was all sharp edges, sexy and confident.
Baekhyun was soft. Gentle. Pretty in a way that made you want to protect him.

Chanyeol tore his eyes away, clearing his throat. “You’re getting the hang of it fast.” He was an alpha after all, and Baekhyun looked exactly like his lover so he couldn’t help getting attracted.

Baekhyun glanced at him, smiling faintly. “It’s… fun.”

And just like that, the iPad became his new distraction, while Chanyeol silently decided to keep ignoring the thoughts trying to surface.

The soft tapping of Baekhyun’s fingers against the iPad screen gradually slowed, his focus slipping as the quiet hum of the laundry machine and the faint warmth from the balcony filled the room.

Chanyeol sat back against the couch, scrolling through his phone but stealing glances at the omega every so often. Baekhyun was curled slightly toward him, pajama shorts brushing against the couch cushion, bare legs tucked loosely beneath him.

The game’s cheerful music played faintly until Baekhyun’s movements stopped altogether.
Chanyeol looked over just in time to see Baekhyun’s head dip forward slightly, his lashes resting against his cheeks.

The iPad was still in his lap, his hands resting lightly on the edges as if he had fallen asleep mid-play.

Chanyeol reached over gently, sliding the device from his fingers and setting it on the coffee table. Baekhyun stirred faintly but didn’t wake. He only shifted closer, his shoulder brushing Chanyeol’s arm.

For a moment, Chanyeol just looked at him.
The way his expression softened in sleep, the faint curve of his mouth, the way his breathing evened out, so calm, so unguarded.

It was strange, seeing him like this.
Baekhyun had only been here for a short time, but Chanyeol could already sense the subtle shift in him, like the walls he had built around himself were slowly, cautiously lowering.

With a quiet sigh, Chanyeol reached for the throw blanket draped over the couch’s armrest and spread it lightly over Baekhyun’s legs.

“Sleep well, Baekhyuna,” he murmured under his breath.

The omega didn’t stir. He just nestled deeper into the cushions, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

And for some reason, Chanyeol didn’t move either. He stayed there beside him, phone forgotten in his hand, watching the gentle rise and fall of Baekhyun’s shoulders until the laundry machine’s chime finally broke the stillness.

They just spent their afternoon like that. Another day passed without any update on Baekjin. And Chanyeol thought he missed him so much while he stared at Baekhyun’s lips.

The next morning, Chanyeol slipped into his suit and grabbed his briefcase. Baekhyun stood by the door, hands clasped loosely in front of him.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Chanyeol said. “Will you be okay here?”

Baekhyun nodded lightly. “Okay.”

That answer still unsettled Chanyeol, but he only gave a small smile before heading out.

At the office, the moment he stepped through the lobby, his employees greeted him with warm smiles and cheerful congratulations.

“Congratulations on the wedding, Mr. Park!”

“Welcome back from your honeymoon, sir!”

Chanyeol returned the greetings politely, smiling faintly but saying little. No one here knew the truth. To them, Baekjin, perfect, charming Baekjin, was upstairs in his penthouse enjoying the quiet after a blissful honeymoon.

Even his own parents didn’t know.
The Byuns had stayed silent too, fear keeping them from exposing the truth, worried the Parks might cancel the merger altogether.

And Chanyeol kept silent for Baekhyun’s sake. If this got out, it would only make things harder for him. It wouldn’t bring Baekjin back. In fact, it would likely drive him further into hiding.

When the day’s work was done, Chanyeol headed home. Baekhyun was sitting cross-legged on the couch, quietly fiddling with the iPad again.

“Get dressed,” Chanyeol said with a small smile. “We’re going out.”

Baekhyun blinked. “Out?”

“To dinner. I want you to meet my friends.”

---

They arrived at a cozy, private dining room in one of Chanyeol’s favorite restaurants. Four of his closest friends were already there, Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, Luhan, and Sehun, laughing over drinks.

When they saw Chanyeol, they all stood to greet him.

“About time! We’ve been dying to hear about your honeymoon,” Luhan teased with a grin while sitting beside his alpha husband.

Chanyeol hesitated for a moment before sighing. “About that… there’s something you should know.”

The laughter died down as he explained, about Baekjin disappearing, about the Byuns pushing Baekhyun into his place, about the quiet life Baekhyun had been forced to live.

His friends exchanged stunned glances.

“Wait,” Kyungsoo said, eyes narrowing. “Baekjin has a twin? And none of us knew?”

Baekhyun lowered his gaze, fingers twisting in his lap.

“And he’s been locked away all his life?” Junmyeon asked quietly. “That’s… that’s awful.”

Sehun frowned. “I don't think that is legal. To lock someone in since birth. Did you report them to the authorities?”

“I didn’t want to complicate things for Baekhyun,” Chanyeol said simply. “It’s not his fault. And right now, finding Baekjin isn’t any easier with more people involved. We’ll just scare him deeper into hiding.”

Luhan, as a fellow married omega, looked at Baekhyun, his voice softening. “I’m sorry you went through that. But… you have us now, okay? Whatever you need.”

Baekhyun glanced up, startled by the sincerity in his tone. “…Thank you.”

Junmyeon leaned back. “We’ll keep this between us. No one else needs to know until you’re ready. And if there’s anything we can do, just say the word.”

One by one, they nodded in agreement.

For the first time in a long while, Baekhyun felt the faint stir of something unfamiliar.
It wasn’t quite comfort. Not yet.

But maybe… it was the beginning of belonging somewhere.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol was sitting on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, scrolling through the same unanswered messages he had sent to Baekjin weeks ago.

Then—

*Bing.*

His breath caught.

It was a message. **From Baekjin.**

> If you want to see me, come alone. Don’t tell anyone. Tomorrow night. Dalhae.

Chanyeol’s heart pounded so hard it hurt. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he finally typed back:

> I’ll be there.

---

The following night, the moonlight spilled silver across the quiet shore of Dalhae. The waves whispered against the rocks, the air heavy with the faint scent of saltwater.

And there he was.

Baekjin stood at the far end of the path, hands in his pockets, the hood of his jacket drawn up. He looked exactly the same, sharp features, confident eyes, that familiar tilt to his mouth that always pulled Chanyeol in.

“You came,” Baekjin said softly.

“Of course I came.” Chanyeol’s voice cracked in a way he didn’t expect.

Baekjin took a step closer, his gaze flickering briefly, almost nervously, before it settled on Chanyeol’s face. “I know,” he said after a moment, “that Baekhyun is pretending to be me.”

Chanyeol’s lips parted, but no words came.

“I don’t blame you,” Baekjin continued, his tone oddly calm. “I left you… without a word. I can imagine how angry you must have been. But I have my reasons, Yeol. Reasons I can’t explain just yet. I just… I needed a break. From everything. From the pressure. From the families. From us.”

Chanyeol’s chest ached. “You could’ve told me.”

“I know.” Baekjin’s voice dropped lower. “But I’m here now. And I’m telling you, I’m coming back. I just… I need to know something first.”

“What?”

“That you still love me.” His words were almost a plea, though his eyes never wavered.

Chanyeol’s answer was immediate, certain. “I do. Of course I do. Nothing’s changed.”

Baekjin’s shoulders loosened, a slow, relieved smile spreading across his lips. “Good. Then when I come back… we’ll fix everything. We’ll get married again. Properly. Just you and me, no secrets this time.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol said, his voice thick. “We’ll make it right.”

They stood there for a long moment, the sea wind curling around them like a secret they would keep between themselves.

When they finally parted, Chanyeol felt something heavy lift from his chest, replaced by a dangerous, fragile hope.

---

That day changed everything.

After meeting Baekjin, Chanyeol began visiting him almost every evening.
The moment work was done at the company, instead of coming home to the penthouse, he would head straight to the small apartment in Dalhae where Baekjin was staying.

The visits were long. Sometimes hours. Sometimes until the middle of the night.
They talked about where Baekjin had been, why he left so suddenly, about the promises they had once made each other. They would sit close, knees brushing, their voices dropping into soft tones.

Baekjin laughed easily, teasing Chanyeol about the worried look he must have worn for weeks. Chanyeol would take his hand, brushing his thumb over familiar skin, and Baekjin would lean in just enough to make him forget the time. They would share small kisses, then longer ones, until the city lights outside the window blurred into nothing.

It was comfortable, familiar, like falling back into a rhythm they had never truly lost. Chanyeol felt relief settling in his chest each time he saw Baekjin smile, each time he heard him promise, “I’ll come back soon. We’ll make things right again. Just wait a little longer for me.”

And Chanyeol always said yes. Always promised to wait. Always left feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

---

Back in the penthouse, Baekhyun noticed the change immediately.

At first, he told himself not to think too much of it. Chanyeol was busy, of course he was. The company took up most of his time.

But the quiet was deafening.
The penthouse, large and bright in the day, became a cavern at night. Baekhyun wandered from room to room, his bare feet sinking into plush carpets, touching furniture just to feel less like a ghost floating through someone else’s home.

He filled the hours with the only thing that had caught his attention recently, painting on the tablet Chanyeol had given him.

The first time he opened the drawing app, it felt like stumbling into a whole new world. He could mix colors, sketch lines, blend them into something soft and beautiful. It wasn’t the same as using real brushes and canvas, but for Baekhyun, it was magic.

He painted everything, the sunrise he could see from the guest room balcony, the sea he remembered from that day Chanyeol had taken him to the coast, the way the city lights looked through the rain. Sometimes he painted people, though their faces were never quite clear.

Every time he finished something, he’d imagine the moment he would show it to Chanyeol. He thought of how he would hold the tablet shyly, almost hugging it to his chest, then turn it around with a small, hesitant smile. Maybe Chanyeol would say it was beautiful. Maybe he would even ask him to make more.

Baekhyun had even thought, more than once, about asking Chanyeol if he could buy real painting tools, brushes, watercolors, canvas. But every time the thought came, he pushed it down.
He didn’t want to seem demanding.
He didn’t want to be a burden.

---

But the days passed. And Chanyeol didn’t come home to see his paintings.

Dinner was eaten alone.
Breakfast was eaten alone.
Some days, Baekhyun didn’t hear Chanyeol’s voice at all.

He told himself to be patient. He knew how to live quietly, he had done it all his life at the Byun estate. Back then, he wasn’t allowed to step outside the gates. He spent every day in his room, reading the same books, staring out the same window. The silence had been suffocating, but it was all he knew.

Now, here in the penthouse, it felt painfully familiar.

He woke alone. He ate alone. He filled the long hours with quiet hobbies.
It was almost like nothing had changed, except now, the silence hurt more.

---

Baekhyun tried to adapt.

He started cooking small meals for himself. Simple things like rice with vegetables, eggs, soup. He found videos online and followed them step-by-step, sometimes pausing just to make sure he didn’t burn anything.

Once, while chopping vegetables, the knife slipped and nicked his finger. He hissed softly, holding his hand under the running water. The sting faded quickly, but the tiny cut stayed all day, a faint red reminder that even cooking for himself came with its own little struggles.

Still, when he plated the food and sat down to eat, he felt a small spark of pride. He was doing something for himself.

He thought maybe Chanyeol would be proud too, if he were here.

---

One night, Baekhyun sat curled on the couch, tablet in his lap, sketching a view of the city skyline through the penthouse’s tall windows. The lights glittered like scattered jewels, fading into the dark horizon.

The front door opened softly. Baekhyun looked up instantly, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re her—”

But Chanyeol was already pulling out his phone, his coat still on.

“Yeah… I’m here,” Chanyeol murmured distractedly, tapping the screen.

Baekhyun’s fingers tightened around the tablet. “I… I made something. Do you want to—”

“Not now,” Chanyeol said quickly, glancing toward his room. “I just need to take this call.”

He disappeared down the hall before Baekhyun could reply.

Baekhyun sat frozen for a moment, his chest sinking. He lowered the tablet, his painting still unfinished, and stared at the quiet space Chanyeol had left behind.

---

It was only a little while later, as Baekhyun passed by Chanyeol’s door, that he heard it.

The muffled sound of his voice.
The faint warmth in his tone, a warmth Baekhyun hadn’t heard directed at him in a long time.

“…Yeah, I’ll come by tomorrow. I’ll bring the things you like,” Chanyeol was saying. His voice dropped lower, softer. “No… no, I’m glad you called. I missed you too.”

Baekhyun’s breath caught.

There was a pause, then a quiet laugh. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Just focus on yourself, okay? I’ll be here. We’ll… we’ll make it work.”

And then, the name.

"I love you Baekjinie."

Baekhyun’s chest tightened sharply. His fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding on as if that would steady him.

Relief hit him first, his brother was safe. Alive. Close enough to talk to Chanyeol every night.

But then… the rest of it sank in.

Chanyeol was meeting him.
That was where he had been going, every evening.
That was why he never came home in time for dinner, why he was always rushing out the door, why his voice had been softer on the phone than it ever was with Baekhyun lately.

Baekhyun could already see it:
The day Baekjin came back, Chanyeol would take him in his arms, and everything would go back to the way it was before. And Baekhyun… Baekhyun would be asked to leave.
Back to the Byun estate.
Back to being shut away.
Back to being invisible.

The thought wrapped around his ribs like a vice.

Before he knew it, his eyes were stinging, his breath trembling in his throat. He pressed a hand to his mouth to keep quiet, to keep Chanyeol from hearing.

The tears came anyway.

---

That night, Baekhyun didn’t go to his room.
Instead, he found himself standing in the doorway of Chanyeol’s.

It smelled like him, clean cologne, faint traces of cedar and warm cotton. The bed was neatly made, the pillowcases smooth and cool to the touch.

On an impulse, Baekhyun stepped inside. His hand brushed over the shirts hanging neatly in the open wardrobe. His fingers paused on one, soft, oversized, something Chanyeol often wore around the house.

He slipped it off the hanger and held it close, pressing his face into the fabric. The scent was stronger here, wrapping around him in a way that made his chest ache even more.

Without thinking too much, Baekhyun carried it back to the guest room and pulled it over his head. The sleeves were far too long, the hem brushing the middle of his thighs. It felt heavy and warm, and somehow… safe.

He climbed into bed, curling onto his side. The scent clung to him, filling the empty space where Chanyeol should have been.

He closed his eyes, pretending, just for a little while that Chanyeol was here. That the bed wasn’t too big. That he wasn’t alone.

But even as the fabric comforted him, the truth pressed harder against his heart.

It wasn’t his place to wear this.
It wasn’t his place to be here at all.

And soon… it wouldn’t be his home anymore.

Chapter Text

The first night Chanyeol didn’t come home, Baekhyun tried not to think much of it.
He told himself Chanyeol was just busy — running his company, stuck in long meetings, maybe spending time with friends. But deep down, a small, sharp ache whispered the truth: he’s with Baekjin.

He thought… maybe Chanyeol would still come back by midnight.
But the apartment stayed silent and dark.

Baekhyun distracted himself by painting on his tablet, the only thing keeping his mind from wandering too far. At one point, he quietly laced up his clean, dry sneakers, thinking about when Chanyeol might take him out again so he could finally wear them. But the thought brought a hollow feeling to his chest, so he pushed it away and kept painting.

The next morning, he woke feeling… strange. Not like a cold or fever — something deeper. His skin prickled with sensitivity; every brush of fabric felt unbearable. His scent glands ached, and a restless, simmering heat began curling low in his stomach.

He knew this feeling.
Or at least… he knew of it.

His mother had never allowed his heat to come naturally. The moment the first signs appeared, she forced strong suppressant pills down his throat. Dangerous ones. At fifteen, the dose had been so high he collapsed in his room, lips pale, breath shallow — nearly overdosing before a doctor intervened.

After that, he stopped asking questions and simply swallowed whatever she handed him.
He’d never experienced a heat without those pills.

And now… there were no pills.

By the second night, the dull ache had bloomed into agony.
It wasn’t just the fever pooling between his hips — it was in every inch of him. His muscles cramped until they throbbed, his stomach twisted, and his throat felt raw from silent sobs. Each wave of heat came harder than the last, leaving him curled in the guest bed, a tight ball of shaking limbs.

He buried himself in Chanyeol’s clothes — the only comfort he could find — but the scent on them was faint compared to the real thing. His omega instincts screamed for an alpha’s presence, for touch, for relief, and the absence of it only made the pain worse.

He couldn’t eat. Could barely drink.
When he did manage to sleep, it came in broken fragments, shattered by the sharp waves of heat dragging him awake again. His skin felt too hot, too tight. His heart hammered until his ribs ached.

By the third day, he was sure something was killing him.

His voice was gone from crying into the pillow. His breaths came shallow, shaky. Over and over, he whispered to the empty room:
“Please… make it stop… please…”

Sometimes, he said only one name.
“…Chanyeol…”

He begged the air like a child calling for a parent. Begged until his throat burned. But no one came.

That third night, Baekhyun lay limp in the tangled sheets, eyes half‑lidded from exhaustion, body wrung out and trembling. His legs wouldn’t stop twitching from the constant strain. Even breathing felt like work.

I’m going to die… The thought came hazy, sluggish, and in the silence of the room, his heartbeat sounded too loud — louder even than the faint hum of the air conditioner.

The sound of the front door unlocking barely registered — until the grounding scent of pine hit him like a rush of air after drowning.

Chanyeol.

Tears welled instantly. His chest hitched as a sob escaped. “…Chanyeol…” His voice was hoarse, broken.

When Chanyeol opened the guest room door, his heart dropped.

Baekhyun was curled into the smallest ball he’d ever seen, knees to his chest, hair damp and sticking to sweat‑flushed cheeks. He looked fragile, swimming in a shirt far too big for him, scent glands swollen and radiating desperate, overripe strawberries. His breaths came in shallow gasps, eyes glassy and wet.

“Baekhyun…” Chanyeol’s voice roughened with alarm. “You’re in heat.”

The omega’s lips trembled as fresh tears slid to the pillow. “It hurts…” His voice cracked, paper‑thin. “Please… make it stop…”

The words stabbed through Chanyeol like a blade. He crossed the room in two strides, dropping to his knees. “Shit… I’m so sorry…”

How had Baekhyun — an innocent, sheltered omega — survived three days of this alone? With no knowledge of how to ease the pressure, he could have died.

Baekhyun’s lashes fluttered before he curled tighter, as if the pain itself might break him apart. Another sob racked his body.

Chanyeol didn’t hesitate. He slid onto the bed and pulled Baekhyun into his arms. The omega clung instantly, fists twisting into his shirt, face pressing into the warm curve of his neck.

The scent pouring off him was dizzying — raw heat tangled with exhaustion and heartbreak. Chanyeol’s own scent rose in answer, thick and steady, wrapping Baekhyun in the heavy blanket of an alpha’s presence.

“That’s it,” Chanyeol murmured into his hair. “Breathe… I’ve got you now.”

Baekhyun shook in his hold, each breath catching on the edge of a sob.

Chanyeol pressed his nose into the curve of his neck, scenting deep. He nuzzled the damp strands of his hair, brushed his lips over the corner of his jaw, keeping him wrapped in the reassurance of an alpha’s closeness. Slowly, the tight coil of panic in Baekhyun’s body began to loosen.

“I’m so sorry,” Chanyeol whispered. “I should’ve been here. I should never have left you like this.”

“I… thought you weren’t coming back…” Baekhyun’s voice cracked, small and broken. “I was so scared…”

The confession gutted him. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

He shifted them back against the headboard, arranging Baekhyun between his legs so the omega could rest against his chest. Then he began to groom him — slow fingers threading through damp hair, rubbing soft circles against his scalp, tucking stray strands behind his ears. His touch moved lower, gently massaging the swollen scent glands along Baekhyun’s neck, careful but firm enough to ease the ache there.

Every so often, Chanyeol would scent him again, letting his warmth sink into the omega’s skin until the worst of the shivers subsided.

After a long stretch of silence, Baekhyun’s voice came, fragile and trembling: “Chanyeol… am I… gonna die?”

The question stilled him for a moment. Then he pulled Baekhyun tighter. “No, Baekhyun. You’re not going to die.”

“It… it feels like it…”

“I know,” Chanyeol murmured thickly. “I know it does. But I’m here now. Your body will calm down on my scent.”

Baekhyun gave a tiny nod, sinking further into Chanyeol’s warmth. The alpha kept scenting him, stroking his hair, rubbing the tense line of his back until the sobs faded to quiet sniffles.

Eventually, Baekhyun’s breathing evened out — not in relief, but in the slow surrender of a body too exhausted to fight anymore.

Chanyeol stayed there, holding him through the night, vowing in the quiet dark that he would never let him go through this alone again.

---

The scent of strawberries still lingered faintly in the air even after Baekhyun had fallen into an exhausted sleep.
Chanyeol sat there against the headboard, his arms still wrapped protectively around the omega’s frail body, and the weight of it pressed heavy on his chest.

He could still hear Baekhyun’s voice from earlier — broken, hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
Please… make it stop…
He’d said it over and over, as if the words could erase the pain if he just begged hard enough.

Chanyeol swallowed hard, his jaw tightening until it hurt.
How could he have left him like that?

Three nights.
He had been gone for three nights.
Three nights where Baekhyun had no one — no comfort, no guidance, no alpha presence to anchor him through something so raw and consuming.

And the worst part was… Chanyeol knew exactly why.
Because he hadn’t been here.
Because he’d been in Dalhae.

With Baekjin.

The memory hit him like a punch to the ribs.
The first night, Baekjin had called him sounding weak, feverish. He’d been alone in that small, cold apartment in Dalhae, too stubborn to call anyone else. As a lover, Chanyeol hadn’t even hesitated — he’d dropped everything, driven straight to him, sat by his bed with cool cloths and bowls of porridge he’d coaxed him into eating.

By the second night, Baekjin’s fever had broken. He’d been smiling again, teasing Chanyeol for fussing so much.
He could have left then.
He should have left then.

But when Baekjin had touched his wrist and murmured, “Stay one more night,” he’d agreed.
When Baekjin had whispered against his lips, “I missed you,” he hadn’t pulled away.
When Baekjin had leaned into him, pulling him down into the bed, he’d stayed.

That third night, they hadn’t slept.
They’d tangled together in the dark, bare skin pressed to bare skin, Baekjin’s breath hot in his ear as he murmured soft promises and confessions that Chanyeol thought he meant.
He’d told him they’d fix things, that they’d marry again soon. That they’d make everything right.
And Chanyeol had believed it.

He’d been so wrapped up in Baekjin’s touch, Baekjin’s voice, Baekjin’s warmth…
that he hadn’t thought once — not once — about what was happening back in Seoul.
About Baekhyun.

It wasn’t until tonight, walking into the apartment and being hit with that overpowering, desperate scent of heat, that it had all come crashing down.

Baekhyun had been here.
Alone.
In his first unmedicated heat, with no one to help him through it.
Crying himself raw in the guest room bed while Chanyeol was in another bed entirely, chasing a different kind of heat.

His stomach twisted so violently he thought he might be sick.

I could have lost him, the thought slammed into him hard and unrelenting. I could have walked in tonight and found him unconscious. Or worse.

Chanyeol’s hand tightened unconsciously on Baekhyun’s hair, holding him closer even in sleep. The small, fragile body against him felt almost weightless now, but Chanyeol knew how much weight he’d been carrying these past three days.

He should have been here.
From the moment Baekjin’s fever broke, he should have been in his car, driving back to Seoul.
He should have been scenting Baekhyun, grooming him, holding him until the worst passed — not wrapped in Baekjin’s arms, murmuring empty promises he now didn’t even know if he believed.

The guilt clawed at him, sharp and merciless.
He’d told himself Baekhyun was fine, that he was used to being alone, that one more day wouldn’t matter.
But it had mattered.
It had nearly broken him.

Chanyeol bowed his head until his forehead pressed into Baekhyun’s hair. The strawberry scent was still heavy with pain, but it was steadier now, calmer under the blanket of his own scent.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the quiet. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Baekhyun didn’t stir.
Didn’t hear him.
Maybe that was better.

Because Chanyeol wasn’t sure he could bear the look in Baekhyun’s eyes if he knew the truth — that while he was here suffering, Chanyeol had been somewhere else entirely, holding someone else close.

And for the first time, Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he deserved Baekhyun’s trust at all.

Chapter Text

The sunlight that filtered through the guest room curtains was soft and pale, but Baekhyun didn’t stir. He lay curled on his side, his breaths shallow, the faintest sheen of sweat still clinging to his temple. The worst of the heat had finally passed during the night — his fevered scent no longer burning at the air — but what was left was a small, fragile figure worn down to the bone.

Chanyeol stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching him.
He looked… emptied. Not just from the physical toll, but from something deeper. The brightness that usually clung to Baekhyun — that shy curiosity, that tentative excitement — was gone.

When Baekhyun finally blinked his eyes open, Chanyeol stepped closer, crouching down beside the bed. “Morning,” he said quietly.

Baekhyun only hummed in response, his voice rough from days of crying and thirst.

“Let’s get you up for a bit,” Chanyeol urged gently. “You should eat something.” He offered a steady arm, easing Baekhyun into a sitting position. The omega swayed, his small hands curling weakly into Chanyeol’s shirt as he steadied him.

Every movement was slow.
Painfully slow.

Chanyeol led him to the kitchen, keeping an arm around his shoulders. Baekhyun sank into a chair at the dining table like it was too much effort to hold himself up. His eyes were half-lidded, his gaze fixed somewhere far away while Chanyeol placed a small bowl of soup in front of him.

“Just try a little,” Chanyeol said, sitting across from him.

Baekhyun lifted the spoon, sipping once, maybe twice, before setting it back down. “I’m… tired,” he murmured. His voice was a faint shadow of itself.

Chanyeol wanted to argue, to coax him to eat more, but the slump of Baekhyun’s shoulders stopped him. “Alright,” he said softly. “You can rest.”

---

Back in the guest room, Chanyeol helped Baekhyun to his feet again, guiding him slowly toward the bathroom.
“Shower first,” he said gently. “You’ll feel a little better.”

Baekhyun nodded faintly, letting Chanyeol support most of his weight as they stepped inside. Chanyeol adjusted the water, warm but not too hot, before easing Baekhyun toward the spray.

“I’ll just be outside,” he murmured, stepping out to give him privacy.

While Baekhyun showered, Chanyeol stripped the bed, gathering the sweat-dampened sheets. He carried them to the laundry room, letting the quiet hum of the washer fill the stillness of the apartment. He returned with fresh bedding, smoothing it carefully over the mattress. He even opened the curtains a little wider, letting more light in, hoping it might make the room feel less heavy.

By the time Baekhyun stepped out of the bathroom, hair damp and clinging to his temples, the room was already fresh and clean.

“Come here,” Chanyeol said softly, taking a towel and guiding Baekhyun to sit at the edge of the bed. He began drying his hair with slow, careful motions, patting rather than rubbing, his fingers occasionally brushing against Baekhyun’s warm scalp.

When it was done, Chanyeol set the towel aside and eased him back under the blankets.
Baekhyun’s eyes were already half‑closed, his body sinking into the freshly made bed.

Within minutes, he was asleep again.

---

The rest of the day passed in near silence.
Baekhyun barely left the guest room, only shuffling to the kitchen once when Chanyeol coaxed him with a plate of fruit. Most of the time, he lay in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, the iPad untouched on the nightstand.

It was strange. Just days ago, he would wait for Chanyeol to come home, always with some small question or something he’d painted to show him. Now… nothing. His voice stayed quiet. His eyes didn’t brighten.

Chanyeol tried a few times to start a conversation, but Baekhyun would simply nod or give a soft “Mm,” before sinking back into the pillows.

Evening came, and Chanyeol managed to coax him to the dining table again. He set out a simple dinner — rice, a mild stew — and they ate together in the heavy quiet. The clink of utensils on plates was the only sound between them.

Halfway through, Chanyeol finally set his spoon down. “Are you… mad at me?” he asked carefully.

Baekhyun paused, glancing up briefly before shaking his head. “No.”

Chanyeol frowned. “Then why are you so quiet?”

Baekhyun hesitated, gaze fixed on the table. “I… don’t want to be loud. Or annoying. I don’t want you to… throw me out.”

The words hit Chanyeol harder than he expected.
“Throw you out?” he repeated, stunned. “Why would I do that?”

Baekhyun’s hands tightened slightly in his lap. “If I bother you too much… or if you get tired of me… maybe you’d send me away. Back home. To my mother.”

Chanyeol’s chest ached. He leaned forward slightly. “Baekhyun, I’m not going to do that.”

Baekhyun’s gaze lifted just enough to meet his eyes. “Even if Baekjin comes back?”

The question lingered between them, heavy and sharp. Chanyeol opened his mouth to answer, but no words came immediately.

Baekhyun looked down again, taking another slow bite of rice as if the conversation was already over for him.

And Chanyeol realized, with a sinking feeling, that this quiet, careful version of Baekhyun wasn’t going away anytime soon.

---

Chanyeol’s throat felt dry after Baekhyun’s question, but before he could form an answer, the omega spoke again — voice quiet, uncertain.

“I… I know where you’ve been going,” Baekhyun murmured, still looking down at his bowl. “And why you… always come home late… and why you didn’t come home that time.”

Chanyeol’s heart gave a painful thud. “Baekhyun—”

“I… heard your phone call,” Baekhyun interrupted softly. His voice had that fragile, almost child‑like quality he sometimes had when speaking of things that scared him. “You… you were talking to Baekjin. You said his name. I… knew you were meeting him.”

The room felt smaller. Chanyeol set his spoon down, his gaze fixed on Baekhyun. The omega’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of the tablecloth, shoulders drawn in.

“I’m… not mad,” Baekhyun said quickly, as if afraid Chanyeol might think otherwise. “It’s just… I thought… maybe when Baekjin comes back, I’ll have to leave. And I don’t…” His voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “…I don’t want to go back there.”

Chanyeol’s chest tightened until it hurt. “Baekhyun… I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “You’re right. I’ve been seeing Baekjin. He’s… he’s going through something too. He needed a break from everything. And… he got sick. He had a fever for days.”

Baekhyun’s eyes flickered up, uncertain.

“I stayed to take care of him,” Chanyeol went on, forcing the words out past the knot in his throat. “I should’ve… I should’ve been here with you, too. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, shame burning through him.

Because in the back of his mind, he could still see Baekjin on that third night — fever broken, smiling faintly against his lips, whispering soft promises between kisses. He could still feel the weight of that decision — staying, holding, loving Baekjin until morning… while Baekhyun lay alone in the dark, suffering in ways he couldn’t even imagine.

Chanyeol swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry, Baekhyun. I should have been here for you. I should have known…”

Baekhyun shook his head quickly, like he wanted to erase the guilt from Chanyeol’s face. “It’s… it’s okay. You didn’t know… I’m used to being alone.” The words were spoken softly, almost matter‑of‑fact, but they landed like a knife in Chanyeol’s chest.

He wanted to reach across the table, to take Baekhyun’s hand and promise him that would never happen again. But the omega was already looking down at his food again, shoulders hunched as though making himself smaller.

And all Chanyeol could do was sit there, the stew cooling between them, with the heavy truth pressing against his ribs — that no apology could erase the nights Baekhyun had spent alone, crying in pain while he was somewhere else, wrapped in someone else’s arms.

---

The day after their quiet dinner, Chanyeol stood in the foyer adjusting his tie.

“I’ll be home early today,” he promised, glancing toward the couch where Baekhyun sat curled up, knees tucked under his chin. “Before dinner.”

Baekhyun nodded lightly. “Okay…”

Chanyeol gave him a small smile before leaving for work.

The penthouse fell into silence again, the kind of stillness Baekhyun had grown used to. He wandered to the couch, picking up his iPad and opening the drawing app. Hours slipped by as he painted softly with the stylus, colors blooming on the screen.

He didn’t notice the sound of the front door unlocking until it swung open.

Baekhyun startled, freezing mid‑stroke. It wasn’t Chanyeol’s tall frame filling the doorway.

It was Baekjin.

His twin brother stood there, perfect as always — hair styled immaculately, skin glowing, dressed in a fitted cashmere sweater and pressed slacks that screamed quiet luxury. There was a certain shine in his eyes, and his lips curved in that familiar, knowing way. Elegant. Sexy. Untouchable.

Baekhyun scrambled upright from his curled position, setting the iPad aside as if caught doing something wrong. “Baekjin‑ah…” he called softly.

Baekjin didn’t move from where he stood. His gaze swept over him slowly, sharply — from the oversized shirt draped over Baekhyun’s smaller frame to the iPad abandoned on the couch.

“You look… different,” Baekjin said finally, voice deceptively casual but edged with something sharper. “You’re wearing my fiancé’s shirt… and playing with my iPad.”

The words weren’t really a question. They were an accusation — one laced with the possessiveness Baekjin had carried since they were children.

Baekhyun swallowed, his fingers curling in the hem of the shirt. “…He lent them to me.”

Baekjin’s eyes flicked toward the shoe rack near the door. “And those?” He tilted his chin toward the pristine white sneakers. “Did Chanyeol buy those for you?”

Baekhyun hesitated. “…Yes.”

Baekjin’s lips pressed into a thin line. For as long as Baekhyun could remember, his twin’s presence had always made him feel smaller — not just in stature, but in every way. Baekjin had everything: beauty, charm, confidence, the love and praise of their parents. And still, somehow, he looked at Baekhyun as if any scrap of kindness or attention given to him was something stolen.

Baekhyun’s mind flashed to childhood — the way Baekjin would pout if Baekhyun got a new painting tools from their father. That same jealousy lingered in his tone now, even when Baekhyun had nothing to compete with.

Baekjin finally stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him. His expression shifted, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’m pregnant,” he said, voice soft but laced with deliberate weight.

Baekhyun blinked, his breath catching. “…What?”

“You heard me.” Baekjin’s eyes didn’t leave his face. “I’m pregnant. That’s why I left. I didn’t want to marry Chanyeol just because of the merger — I wanted to marry him for real.” He laid a hand delicately over his flat stomach. “…Now that I have a real reason.”

Baekhyun’s fingers twisted together. The words settled heavy in his chest, a mix of shock and something he couldn’t name. “I… I didn’t know.”

“That’s why you’re here,” Baekjin continued smoothly, as though every word had been rehearsed. “While I’m staying in Dalhae. You’ll keep pretending until I’m ready to come back. And when I do…” His eyes narrowed slightly. “…You’ll step aside.”

Baekhyun lowered his gaze. “I understand.”

“You’d better,” Baekjin said, taking a slow step closer. “Don’t forget your place in Chanyeol’s life. You’re here because I told you to be here. Chanyeol is mine. He always has been.”

Baekhyun gave a small nod, voice barely audible. “…I know.”

Baekjin’s smirk deepened, satisfied. “Good. So stay in line. And remember — Chanyeol is off‑limits.”

The words cut deeper than Baekhyun wanted to admit. But he only nodded again, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, shoulders curling in. He had no claim. No right.

And as always, standing in Baekjin’s shadow, he felt exactly as he always had — the smaller twin, the one who would never be enough.

Chapter Text

After Baekjin’s visit, Baekhyun changed.

It wasn’t obvious at first, just little things. He stopped sitting with Chanyeol in the living room after work. He didn’t wander over to ask questions or hover curiously while Chanyeol cooked. Now, he only joined him during meals, or if Chanyeol specifically asked for help in the kitchen.

The iPad Chanyeol had given him sat untouched on the coffee table for days, its screen dark and collecting dust. The quiet felt heavier in the penthouse now, the kind that made Chanyeol’s chest ache.

At night, Baekhyun stayed behind a closed door in the guest room.

It was the fourth evening like this when Chanyeol finally went over, standing outside the door for a long moment before knocking.

“Baekhyun?”

A faint rustle came from inside. “…Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

There was a pause before a soft, “Mm.”

Chanyeol pushed the door open. The room was dim, lit only by the small lamp on the bedside table. Baekhyun was curled on the bed, knees bent, a thin blanket draped loosely over his lap.

He wasn’t playing on the iPad.
Instead, he was hunched over, pen scratching faintly over a crumpled receipt. A small stack of other receipts sat beside him, covered in tiny drawings, flowers, little birds, a pair of clasped hands.

Chanyeol stepped closer, frowning. “What are you doing?”

Baekhyun glanced up briefly, expression guarded. “Drawing.”

“On… receipts?”

Baekhyun nodded once. “I didn't take anything. They were from the trash.” He didn’t sound embarrassed, just matter-of-fact.

Chanyeol’s gaze softened despite the ache in his chest. “Why not use the tablet?”

Baekhyun’s hand stilled for the faintest moment before he murmured, “…It’s Baekjin’s..not mine.” He thought nothing he drew there truly belonged to him, even though he had worked so hard for it.

The words hit Chanyeol unexpectedly hard. He tried to keep his voice gentle. “How do you know it's Baekjin's?”

Baekhyun shrugged a little, eyes dropping back to the paper. “It just… is.”

Chanyeol’s mind flickered briefly, maybe Baekhyun had seen something on it, some old files or photos, but the more pressing thought was how small he looked now. How quiet. How careful, as if he didn’t quite belong here.

The omega’s posture screamed of retreat, shoulders curled inward, eyes never lingering long on Chanyeol’s face, movements soft and deliberate like he was afraid to take up too much space.

It made something twist painfully in Chanyeol’s chest.

He crouched down beside the bed, resting his arm on the edge. “Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun hummed faintly, not looking up.

“Tomorrow’s the weekend,” Chanyeol said. “I’m taking you out. We’ll buy you real painting supplies, paper, pencils, paints. Whatever you want.”

Baekhyun’s head snapped up instantly, eyes wide, startled and bright in the dim light. But almost as soon as the excitement sparked, he caught himself, blinking quickly and lowering his gaze again.

He nodded once, his voice soft. “…Okay.”

Chanyeol’s throat tightened. He wished Baekhyun hadn’t tried to hide that joy from him. Wished he’d never started looking so scared to feel it.

---

Saturday morning came with pale sunlight spilling across the penthouse floor.
When Baekhyun padded out of the guest room, hair still messy from sleep, Chanyeol was already in the kitchen sipping coffee.

“Morning,” Chanyeol greeted. “Eat something and then we’ll head out, okay?”

Baekhyun only nodded, quietly nibbling at a slice of toast before disappearing back into his room.

When he reappeared, Chanyeol noticed it instantly, the sneakers.
The white pair he had bought for him, cleaned and neatly laced, sat snug on his feet. It was the first pair Baekhyun had ever owned.

There was a certain lightness in the way he stepped toward the door, almost like he was carrying something precious. Chanyeol caught the flicker of excitement in his eyes but didn’t comment. He just opened the door for him.

In the car, Baekhyun sat with his hands folded neatly in his lap, gaze occasionally darting to the passing streets like he was storing each sight away. He didn’t speak much, but the quiet anticipation was there in every small movement.

The art supply store was bright and warm, rows of shelves lined with sketchbooks, paints, and brushes. The faint scent of paper and wood filled the air.

Baekhyun lingered at the entrance for a moment, almost hesitant, until Chanyeol picked up a small shopping basket and held it out to him. “Here. You lead the way.”

Baekhyun took it with both hands and began moving slowly down the aisles. His gaze swept over every shelf, taking in the colors and textures like he was afraid to miss anything.

But when it came to choosing, he was careful. Too careful.

He picked a small sketchpad instead of the large hardcover one Chanyeol had seen him glance at. He reached for the cheapest set of watercolors despite pausing longer in front of the professional-grade tins.

Then they reached the aisle for canvases. Baekhyun froze for a moment, eyes drawn to the tall, neatly wrapped rectangles leaning against the wall. Large sizes, pristine and waiting to be filled. His hand lifted slightly, fingers brushing one, but then he quickly drew back, as if remembering something, and walked on without a word.

Chanyeol frowned. “Do you want one?”

Baekhyun shook his head quickly. “…No.”

“You sure? You paint, don’t you?”

Baekhyun hesitated. “…I used to.” His voice was quiet, guarded.

Chanyeol didn’t push, but while Baekhyun browsed the next aisle, he doubled back and placed two large canvases into the cart.

At the brush section, Baekhyun chose a single small brush, testing the bristles between his fingers. Chanyeol added a full professional set when he wasn’t looking.

By the time they reached the checkout, Baekhyun’s basket was still filled with small, modest choices. The clerk bagged everything neatly, and Baekhyun murmured a shy thank you, hugging the bag close as they left.

But Chanyeol wasn’t ready to take him home just yet.

Instead, he drove further into the city, the streets giving way to an open park. It was near the water, where a quiet boardwalk stretched out toward the bay.

Baekhyun blinked as they stepped out of the car, the cool breeze lifting his hair.

“Come on,” Chanyeol said with a faint smile. “Thought you’d like this.”

They walked slowly, Baekhyun’s sneakers crunching against the wooden planks. He stopped often, peering over the railing to watch the water lapping below. It was simple, but Chanyeol could see it, the small, almost hidden curve of a smile on his lips.

They bought paper cups of ice cream from a nearby vendor and sat on a bench overlooking the water. Baekhyun held his spoon delicately, taking small bites as if savoring each one. His gaze wandered to the horizon, eyes wide in quiet wonder.

By the time they returned to the penthouse, the sun was dipping low, and Baekhyun still hadn’t let go of the shopping bag. He disappeared into the guest room almost immediately, as if the art supplies were a secret he wanted to keep for himself a little longer.

---

The next morning, Baekhyun woke earlier than usual.
The bag of art supplies sat neatly by the foot of his bed, almost glowing in the soft morning light. He sat cross‑legged on the floor, carefully unpacking each item, the fresh brushes, the bright tubes of paint, the crisp canvases.

It had been long since he’d had this. Real tools. Real possibility.
Back in the Byun estate, his father had bought him the finest painting supplies without hesitation, but every single painting had been taken away, locked in the basement or shoved into his attic room, unseen by anyone but himself. They were his only pieces of freedom in a life made of locked doors.

Here, though… he could paint and maybe, just maybe, let it be seen.

He set one of the large canvases on the guest room floor and began.
The first strokes were hesitant, his hand stiff from the times without practice. But as the morning went on, the colors began to flow.

He painted what he knew best, a burst of delicate wildflowers blooming under a pale blue sky.

It was quiet, melancholy, and yet… beautiful.

Baekhyun stepped back, paint‑smudged fingers clutching the brush. His chest felt tight, but in a good way. For him, the painting wasn’t just art, it was the shape of his life.

When Chanyeol came home that evening, the canvas was leaning against the wall in the living room. Baekhyun stood nearby, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot.

“You painted this?” Chanyeol asked, stepping closer.

Baekhyun nodded slowly. “It’s… just something I thought of.” His voice was soft, almost shy. Then, hesitating, he added, “Chanyeol… can we… put it here? On this wall?” He gestured toward the large, empty stretch of white in the living room. “It looks too plain.”

Chanyeol turned to look at him, then back at the painting. They weren’t the perfectly arranged bouquets you saw in magazines.
These were untamed, bending toward sunlight, petals in soft shades of blush, lavender, and white, as if they’d grown freely where no one had tried to cut them back.

To Baekhyun, it looked like freedom.
The kind he’d never truly had, a life unmeasured, unconfined, untouched by the Byun estate’s cold rules.

To Chanyeol, it looked like Baekhyun.
Something soft and beautiful that had endured in spite of everything, still leaning toward the light. It wasn’t grand like roses, roses were bold, obvious, celebrated, like Baekjin. These wildflowers were nameless, fragile-looking, almost too rare to exist in reality… and yet, here they were. Quiet, unassuming, yet alive. Strong in their own way.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol said without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

They worked together to hang it up, Baekhyun holding one side while Chanyeol fixed it securely to the wall. When they stepped back, the gold light in the painting seemed to glow against the white backdrop, filling the room with something warmer than before.

Baekhyun smiled, small at first, then growing.
It wasn’t just a polite smile, but something real. The first Chanyeol had seen from him in what felt like weeks.

“You like it?” Baekhyun asked quietly.

Chanyeol looked at him and nodded. “I love it. And now it’s ours. This wall was waiting for it.”

Baekhyun ducked his head, cheeks faintly flushed. “Thank you… for letting me put it here.”

Chanyeol didn’t say it out loud, but he knew, that painting wasn’t just decoration. It was Baekhyun, right there in the heart of his home. And even long after this moment, he’d remember the quiet pride in Baekhyun’s eyes every time he looked at it.

Baekhyun looked at it for a long moment before speaking again. “…Please don’t take it down.”

Chanyeol smiled faintly. “Of course.”

Baekhyun hesitated, his voice quieter when he added, “Even if I’m no longer here.”

The words sank into Chanyeol like a stone dropped into still water.
He turned his head sharply toward him. “What do you mean?”

Baekhyun didn’t seem to realize the weight of what he’d said, or maybe he did, but it wasn’t deliberate. His eyes stayed on the painting. “Just… even if I’m gone.”

Gone.
To his mother’s house? Back to the Byun estate where they locked him away?
Or gone because of Baekjin?

The thought of it hit Chanyeol with a force he hadn’t expected.
If Baekhyun left… the apartment would be empty in a way it had never been before. That flowers in the painting would feel like a memory instead of something alive.

And why would he let that happen?
Because Baekjin came back? Because Baekjin wanted his life, his place, his marriage back?

Chanyeol’s chest tightened painfully at the thought. He could picture Baekjin’s return, the way things were supposed to “go back to normal”, but the idea of sending Baekhyun away felt… wrong.

More than wrong. Unthinkable.

Before he could stop himself, Chanyeol stepped forward and pulled Baekhyun into a tight embrace.
The omega made a small, surprised sound against his chest, but didn’t resist.

Chanyeol buried his face in Baekhyun’s hair, inhaling the faint strawberry scent that seemed to reach deeper than scent should. He’d noticed it before, in small moments, like when Baekhyun leaned over the tablet, brows furrowed in concentration, or when he padded barefoot into the kitchen, quietly asking if he could help. But here, holding him, it was overwhelming.

He’d been telling himself he was just protecting him because it was the right thing to do. That anyone with a conscience would feel this way toward someone so small, so unprepared for the world. But now…

Now he knew.

It wasn’t just duty. It wasn’t just guilt.

He didn’t want Baekhyun gone.
Not because he didn’t want him to suffer.
Not because he pitied him.

But because he couldn’t imagine waking up without him here.

The thought of the penthouse without Baekhyun’s quiet presence, without those rare, shy smiles that lit up like sunlight breaking through clouds, was unbearable.
And the idea of Baekjin walking back in and replacing him made Chanyeol’s chest tighten until he could hardly breathe.

Somewhere between caring and protecting, it had shifted.
Somewhere between the late-night talks, the shy dinners, the quiet moments of watching him discover the world outside the Byun estate… he’d fallen in love.

“I’m not going to let you go back there,” Chanyeol murmured against his hair. “Not to your mother. Not anywhere you don’t want to be. Even if…” His jaw tightened. “Even if Baekjin comes back.”

Baekhyun’s lips parted slightly, his eyes searching Chanyeol’s face. “You promise?”

Chanyeol tightened his hold, the words coming from somewhere far deeper than he meant them to. “I promise. I’ll protect you. Always.”

He didn’t say the other truth, the one that now rang loud in his chest:
That he wasn’t sure he could survive letting him go.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol didn’t go to the office that morning. Instead, he took a rare time off, the kind that made his friends raise their brows and his staff stare in mild disbelief. He didn’t tell Baekhyun exactly why, only that they had somewhere to be.

The omega was already suspiciously curious, trailing after him in the apartment like a small shadow, voice bubbling with questions he never quite finished because his own excitement kept spilling over into tangents.

When Chanyeol finally told him—halfway through breakfast—that he’d enrolled him in a painting class, Baekhyun froze mid-bite. For two seconds, he just stared, mouth still parted around his spoon. Then his eyes widened and a smile bloomed so fast it was almost dizzying.

“You’re serious?” His voice cracked at the end, caught between disbelief and the kind of joy that made his whole face light up.

Chanyeol nodded, and before he could say anything else, Baekhyun was bouncing in place like a puppy who’d just heard the word “walk.” His hands flailed a little, like the excitement had nowhere to go except through movement, and his laughter was high and breathless.

“I’m going to a real school,” Baekhyun whispered, almost to himself, like saying it out loud would make it more real. His eyes were glossy in a way that made Chanyeol’s chest ache. “I’ve never— I can’t believe—”

“I’ll take you there today,” Chanyeol said gently, watching him the way someone might watch sunlight spilling into a room. “We’ll do the paperwork together.”

Baekhyun nodded so fast it was almost comical.

On the way, Chanyeol brought up something else he’d been working on in the background. “I also spoke to my lawyer,” he said, glancing at Baekhyun as they walked. “He confirmed that the marriage contract has your name on it—your real name. Not Baekjin’s. Our signatures there are valid.”

Baekhyun blinked at him, still processing.

“It means,” Chanyeol continued, “you’re legally my husband. And…” he pulled a small folder from his bag, “I secured your legal documents. They prove you’re not Baekjin. This will make everything easier, including enrolling you.”

Baekhyun slowed for a moment, glancing down at his feet. The shoes Chanyeol had bought for him weeks ago—soft white leather with a faint shimmer—were still almost spotless, because Baekhyun hadn’t been able to wear them for the first few weeks. Today, he kept glancing at them as if they were the most precious thing he owned.

By the time they reached the art school, his steps were light and quick, and his smile hadn’t faded once. Chanyeol stayed close, hand occasionally brushing Baekhyun’s back, watching as he filled out forms with careful, deliberate writing. The whole time, Baekhyun’s eyes kept darting up at him—checking, as if to make sure Chanyeol was still there.

Once everything was settled and Baekhyun had his first schedule in hand, Chanyeol steered them toward another destination.

“You’re starting next Monday,” Chanyeol said as they walked. “Which means we need to get you ready.”

Baekhyun tilted his head, curious.

“Clothes,” Chanyeol explained simply. “And other things you’ll need.”

It turned into an unhurried afternoon of browsing. Chanyeol took his time choosing for him, not just everyday wear but lighter fabrics for warmer days, a few jackets for rainy mornings, and even small accessories he thought Baekhyun would like.

When they passed the skincare section, Chanyeol stopped. “You’re not used to being outside for long,” he said. “I don’t want you getting sunburned.”

Baekhyun stared at the neat rows of bottles and jars like they were tiny, expensive mysteries.

“We’ll get sunscreen,” Chanyeol decided, already picking up a few. “And skincare. And…” he hesitated for a moment, almost sheepish, “makeup.”

Baekhyun blinked up at him. “Makeup?”

“I thought—” Chanyeol shrugged, “male omegas like it. I thought you might have fun with it too.”

The sales assistant who approached them lit up instantly at the sight of Baekhyun. “You have beautiful skin,” she said warmly, her gaze sweeping over him with professional admiration. “Such a natural glow.”

Baekhyun ducked his head, cheeks coloring. “Thank you…”

Chanyeol watched as she began explaining the basics—how to apply sunscreen properly, the order of skincare steps, and which formulas would be gentle but effective for his skin type. Baekhyun listened intently, nodding at each point, his brows furrowing slightly when something confused him. Whenever that happened, he glanced at Chanyeol, and the alpha would lean in to quietly clarify.

Then came the makeup demonstration. The sales assistant had him sit on a small stool while she picked out products in soft, warm tones. “You don’t need much,” she said, smiling. “Just enough to enhance what’s already there.”

Chanyeol stayed a few steps back, arms loosely folded, but his eyes didn’t leave Baekhyun for a second. He watched as a sheer foundation was smoothed over his skin, evening it without hiding the natural freckles at the bridge of his nose. A little blush bloomed on his cheeks, making him look fresh and almost ethereal.

When the assistant applied a light tint to his lips, Baekhyun’s smile slipped out—small, shy, but radiant. His eyes flicked to Chanyeol, almost like he was seeking approval.

The alpha’s chest tightened. Proud didn’t even begin to cover what he felt in that moment. It wasn’t about the makeup. It was about seeing Baekhyun sitting there, happy, cared for, and looking at him like that.

“You look…” Chanyeol started, then stopped himself before his voice could betray too much. “…good.”

Baekhyun bit back a grin, clearly pleased.

The assistant walked him through each product, letting him try the steps himself. Baekhyun was careful and a little clumsy, but he followed directions closely, asking questions whenever he wasn’t sure. It was almost endearing how serious he was about it.

When they finally stepped out of the store, Chanyeol’s arms were full of shopping bags—clothes, shoes, sunscreen, skincare, and a small pouch of neatly packed makeup. Baekhyun walked beside him, the smile still lingering on his lips, occasionally glancing up at Chanyeol like he still couldn’t believe all this was real.

The afternoon sunlight caught on his hair, and Chanyeol found himself slowing his pace just to watch him a little longer.

Chapter Text

That night, after the long day of shopping and excitement, the two of them ended up on the couch with a movie playing quietly in the background. The soft glow from the television cast a warm hue across the room, and Baekhyun sat curled at one end, his knees tucked to his chest.

He’d been quiet for a while, his mind drifting between the giddy memories of the day and the darker shadow of Baekjin’s lingering threat. But as he glanced at Chanyeol—lounged comfortably beside him, one arm draped lazily over the backrest—Baekhyun felt something stir in his chest.

He didn’t want to think about fear or what might come tomorrow. Just this moment. Just him and his alpha.

So he leaned over, hesitating for just a heartbeat, and pressed an innocent kiss to Chanyeol’s lips. It was quick, barely a brush, but full of sincerity.
“Thank you,” he murmured softly, eyes lowering as though embarrassed to meet Chanyeol’s gaze.

For a moment, Chanyeol froze—then a wide, delighted smile spread across his face.
“That’s nothing,” he said warmly, his deep voice almost a purr. “I adore you… and I love you, Baek.”

The words hit Baekhyun harder than he expected, making heat crawl up his neck. His heart thudded faster, and he tried to hide his face by leaning closer, nestling himself against Chanyeol like a true omega seeking his alpha’s comfort.

Chanyeol chuckled softly at the reaction, his long arms coming around Baekhyun and drawing him close. He shifted them until Baekhyun was sitting in front of him, almost in his lap, so he could hold him like a giant teddy bear.

They stayed like that, Baekhyun’s back pressed to Chanyeol’s chest, their legs tangled together. Chanyeol’s chin rested lightly on Baekhyun’s shoulder, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with Baekhyun’s.

It was so different from what Chanyeol had known before. With Baekjin, their moments together always seemed to end the same way—heated, physical, as though intimacy had to be proven through sex. But with Baekhyun, they could sit there for hours without a single suggestive touch, and Chanyeol still felt a deep, fulfilling warmth.

The movie played on, but neither paid much attention. Chanyeol was too busy memorizing the way Baekhyun fit perfectly in his arms, and Baekhyun was too focused on the steady heartbeat beneath his ear.

For the first time in a long while, they both felt… home.

---

Baekhyun could barely contain his excitement that Monday morning. He’d been talking about his art lessons all weekend, his eyes lighting up every time he mentioned it. Chanyeol couldn’t help but feel a little proud—he was the one who signed him up and arranged everything, and now seeing Baekhyun this eager made it worth it.

They left together after breakfast, the alpha driving him to the studio before heading to work. Chanyeol glanced at him at every stoplight, watching Baekhyun fidget with the strap of his bag, eyes sparkling.

“Your lesson ends at noon, right?” Chanyeol asked as they pulled up.

Baekhyun nodded quickly. “Half day today.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up during lunch,” Chanyeol said firmly, as if it was non-negotiable. “Just wait for me.”

Baekhyun tried not to grin too wide, but there was something about the way Chanyeol’s voice softened when he made those little instructions that made his chest feel warm.

When he walked into the art studio, Baekhyun noticed right away that the group was mixed—some were children barely past elementary age, others were adults with work clothes and tired smiles. The teacher, a lively woman with paint smudges on her sleeves, welcomed him warmly and handed him a fresh canvas.

“Today, since it’s your first lesson, we’re going to do something simple but expressive,” she announced to the whole class. “We’ll paint our ‘happy place.’ Anywhere you feel at peace—real or imaginary. It could be a beach, a room, even a memory. Let your hands tell the story.”

Baekhyun settled in, his mind already racing with ideas. His brush moved almost instinctively, dabbing colors on the canvas, layering strokes until an image began to form—a quiet balcony overlooking the city at sunset, the sky streaked with pink and gold.

From time to time, the teacher would stroll around, stopping beside each student to offer guidance. When she reached Baekhyun’s table, she paused longer than usual, tilting her head as she took in his work.

“You have a natural touch,” she said, smiling. “The way you blend your colors—it’s gentle, but full of feeling. I can already tell you’re going to do well here.”

The compliment made Baekhyun’s chest swell with a quiet pride he hadn’t felt in a long time.

During the short break, he unwrapped the sandwich Chanyeol had made for him that morning and took out his baby-pink tumbler. As he ate, a few classmates approached to introduce themselves, curious about the quiet, pretty omega who had just joined.

“What’s your name?” one asked.

“Baekhyun,” he replied with a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s my first day.”

By the time the session ended, Baekhyun’s painting was nearly complete, and he was already thinking about what he’d add next time. When he stepped outside, the midday sun was warm, and there—leaning casually against his car—stood Chanyeol.

The alpha’s gaze softened the second he saw him.

Baekhyun couldn’t help himself. He jogged toward Chanyeol, the smile on his face wide and genuine, and threw his arms around him like an excited child. Chanyeol chuckled, hugging him back tightly, one large hand resting at the small of his back.

From the nearby entrance, a few staff members peeked out, their eyes following the pair. They looked like something out of a picture—tall, broad-shouldered alpha with a protective air, and a bright-eyed omega who seemed to glow just from being near him.

Chanyeol pulled back slightly to look at him, eyes warm. “Had fun?”

Baekhyun nodded, breathless with happiness. “The teacher said I’m good.”

“Of course you are,” Chanyeol said, ruffling his hair before opening the car door for him. “I already knew that.”

As Baekhyun slid into the seat, heart still racing from both the lesson and the way Chanyeol looked at him, he thought—maybe Mondays weren’t so bad after all.

---

Chanyeol’s shift wasn’t ending until four, so instead of sending Baekhyun home, he decided to take him along to his office.

It was Baekhyun’s first time stepping into the building, and while he kept close to Chanyeol’s side, he couldn’t help but notice the way the employees greeted him warmly—though a few had a peculiar, knowing look in their eyes, as if they’d seen him before.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Park,” one receptionist said with a polite bow, then glanced at Baekhyun with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Baekhyun blinked. “Again?”

Chanyeol tensed beside him.

A few more greetings later, Baekhyun finally leaned in and murmured, “I think… they think I’m Baekjin.”

Chanyeol’s steps faltered. His jaw tightened before he whispered, “I’m sorry, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun looked up at him, reading the guilt in his expression, and gave a small smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

“No,” Chanyeol said firmly, his eyes locking on Baekhyun’s. “I’ll fix everything soon. I promise.”

The conviction in his voice made Baekhyun’s chest ache.

When they reached Chanyeol’s office, Baekhyun couldn’t help but look around—it was spacious, modern, and smelled faintly of his alpha’s scent, which instantly made him feel at ease.

“Sit,” Chanyeol said, pulling out a chair for him at a small table near the window. “I brought something for us.”

From a large paper bag, he took out neatly packed takeout boxes and arranged them on the table. The rich aroma of warm food filled the room.

They ate together, Chanyeol listening attentively while Baekhyun animatedly talked about his first day at the art studio—the cheerful teacher, the mix of ages in the class, and the way everyone was so friendly.

“She even complimented my work,” Baekhyun said again proudly, sipping from his baby pink tumbler. “I didn’t think I’d still be good at it, but… maybe I am.”

“You’re more than good,” Chanyeol replied with a warm smile, reaching over to wipe a tiny crumb from the corner of Baekhyun’s mouth. “You’re amazing.”

Baekhyun’s cheeks warmed, and for a moment, he forgot all about the stares from earlier, feeling only the quiet, comforting presence of the alpha across from him.

---

That afternoon, Baekhyun amused himself with Chanyeol’s office tablet, sketching little doodles on a note-taking app and occasionally glancing up to watch the alpha work. Eventually, the rhythmic tapping of Chanyeol’s keyboard and the warm, quiet air of the office lulled him into drowsiness.

By the time Chanyeol returned from his meeting, the room was softly scented with strawberries. He paused at the doorway, eyes instantly drawn to the sight on the couch—Baekhyun curled up on his side, tablet still resting near his hand, lashes brushing against flushed cheeks as he slept peacefully.

The alpha’s chest tightened. Strawberry pheromones weren’t strong, but they were steady… calm. Comfort.

Chanyeol stepped closer, lowering himself until he could press a gentle kiss to Baekhyun’s forehead.

“Baek,” he murmured softly.

Baekhyun stirred, blinking sleepily, and smiled when he saw him. “You’re done?”

“Yeah. Let’s go home,” Chanyeol said, brushing his fingers briefly against the omega’s hair before helping him sit up.

---

Back at the apartment, Baekhyun changed into his new pajamas before padding into the kitchen, announcing that he wanted to help make dinner. Chanyeol, who had just rolled up his sleeves to chop vegetables, turned—and promptly froze.

Baekhyun’s “pajamas” turned out to be a loose, soft shirt with a neckline that hung low on one side, revealing his delicate collarbones… and shorts that were so short they barely reached mid-thigh. His legs were pale, smooth, and the way the fabric swished when he moved made Chanyeol’s throat tighten.

Chanyeol regret buying those pajamas.

This is the first time he saw him not wearing a loose clothing.

The omega didn’t seem to notice. He just hummed happily, as he came to stand beside him.

“I can wash the veggies,” Baekhyun offered, already reaching for the faucet.

“Sure,” Chanyeol managed, forcing his gaze back to the cutting board. He tried to focus on the rhythm of the knife against the wood, but out of the corner of his eye, he kept catching glimpses—the way Baekhyun’s shirt slid just enough when he leaned over, the subtle dip of his waist, the curve of his hips.

He had seen a lot of omegas’ bodies—even Baekjin was a model, and he had seen everything of him. But Chanyeol felt different knowing this was Baekhyun. He hadn’t expected this at all.

His alpha instincts stirred, heat curling in his chest. This was dangerous. He’d always known Baekhyun was beautiful, but there was something different about seeing him like this—comfortable, domestic, unguarded. An omega in his home.

And in his prime years as an alpha, every instinct was screaming that this was his. He tried to ignore it, but the strong feeling is there. Wanting to mate.

But Baekhyun was completely unaware, chatting about what he’d seen in the art studio and occasionally brushing close to him as they moved around the kitchen. At one point, he stretched to grab a spice jar from the top shelf, and Chanyeol’s hand instinctively went to steady him by the waist—warm, firm contact that made him realize just how small Baekhyun felt in his grip.

Baekhyun glanced back at him with a soft smile, and Chanyeol quickly withdrew his hand, pretending to busy himself with stirring the pan.

By the time they plated dinner, Chanyeol’s self-control felt stretched thin. The soft domesticity of it all—the scent of strawberries lingering in the air, Baekhyun humming as he set the table—was almost too much.

He sat down across from the omega, hiding the way his gaze kept drifting to the curve of Baekhyun’s bare legs.

Baekhyun, oblivious, pushed the soy-sauced vegetables toward him. “Eat lots, Chanyeol. You worked hard today.”

Chanyeol smiled faintly. “Yeah… I will.”

And maybe, he thought, he’d have to work even harder—at keeping himself from giving in to the pull of an omega who had no idea just how tempting he was.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 Part 1

The weekend air hummed softly through the car as Chanyeol drove them home, the city lights flickering past the windows. Baekhyun was completely absorbed in the game glowing on Chanyeol’s working tablet, his fingers darting across the screen with a surprising deftness. One hand clutching it loosely while the other held a cone of strawberry ice cream.

Every now and then, Baekhyun squealed softly, his eyes lighting up with excitement at the game’s twists and turns. He licked the melting ice cream slowly, savoring the sweetness even as the cold dripped dangerously close to his fingers. Chanyeol’s eyes flicked to the pink, glossy sheen of Baekhyun’s lips, the way they parted in concentration and delight.

“Hey, you’re going to drip,” Chanyeol warned gently, his voice teasing but careful. “Eat it faster or the car’s going to be a mess.”

Baekhyun glanced up, cheeks flushed, and giggled, “I’m trying, but it’s a big scoop. You made it too big.”

Chanyeol smiled, warmth pooling in his chest as he watched his innocent omega juggling gaming and ice cream with such carefree joy.

When they finally pulled into the driveway, Chanyeol reached over with a tissue and wiped the small smear of ice cream from Baekhyun’s face, his fingers brushing softly against his skin. “Seriously, you’re lucky I love you,” he said, mock stern, but his eyes twinkled.

Baekhyun pouted, licking his lips shyly. “It’s not my fault you insisted on the biggest scoop.”

Chanyeol chuckled, unable to take his gaze off those pink lips as they formed the pout. “Alright, go change. We’ll start your favorite series when you’re ready.”

Baekhyun nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling, before hopping out of the car, the simple domestic moment wrapped in quiet affection filling the space between them.

---

They settled on the couch, the warm glow of the television casting soft shadows across the room. Baekhyun sat close to Chanyeol, his legs tucked beneath him, tablet in hand as his favorite series played. His eyes flicked back and forth from the TV to the screen in his palm, completely absorbed in his own little world.

Chanyeol glanced over at him and smiled softly. “You really love this show, huh?”

Baekhyun looked up briefly, eyes shining. “It’s comforting. Like being with old friends.” He gave a small yawn and stretched, pressing his back lightly against Chanyeol’s side.

Chanyeol put his phone down and wrapped an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “I like that you’re happy.”

Baekhyun leaned in without hesitation, nestling himself between Chanyeol’s legs. His back settled against Chanyeol’s chest, and their legs tangled naturally on the L-shaped couch.

“I feel safe here,” Baekhyun murmured, his voice soft but steady. “Like I don’t have to hide or be scared.”

Chanyeol’s heart throbbed painfully at the vulnerability he heard in those words. “You don’t have to hide anymore,” he whispered. “I’m here. Always.”

Baekhyun smiled faintly, eyes returning to the tablet but his body completely relaxed now in Chanyeol’s embrace.

For days, Chanyeol had been wrestling with the hunger building inside him—an ache that was part desire, part instinct. His alpha nature screamed for Baekhyun in ways he hadn’t fully understood until recently. But he held himself back, carefully, because Baekhyun was still so innocent, so untouched by those harsh parts of the world.

The scent of Baekhyun’s shampoo—a soft, floral note—and the lingering natural strawberry sweetness in his skin broke through Chanyeol’s resolve.

Without meaning to, Chanyeol’s lips brushed Baekhyun’s neck—a gentle kiss that deepened almost before he realized it. A soft groan escaped Baekhyun, a natural reaction, even as his fingers continued tapping at the tablet’s screen, oblivious to the sudden intimacy.

Chanyeol’s mind blurred, lost in the warmth and scent of Baekhyun’s skin. His lips moved lower slowly, tenderly tracing the curve of the neck. Baekhyun, without hesitation, offered more of himself, tilting his head to the side.

“It tickles,” he chuckled softly, eyes still glued to the game.

Chanyeol froze, shame creeping in as he pulled back and whispered an apology. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Baekhyun said quietly, voice calm and sincere. “You can kiss me. You’re my husband.”

Chanyeol’s chest tightened painfully. “I know… but you don’t understand what it means for me. For my body. What I feel when I want you.”

Baekhyun’s hands fiddled nervously with the tablet’s edge. “Is it bad?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

“No,” Chanyeol said, tightening his hold gently around Baekhyun. “It’s not bad. It’s just… complicated.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly, eyes wide but trusting. “I want to understand.”

Chanyeol smiled, brushing a stray hair behind Baekhyun’s ear. “Soon..”

They stayed like that, quiet and close, the hum of the TV blending with the soft rhythm of their breathing.

Chanyeol’s fingers traced gentle patterns on Baekhyun’s arm as he fought the rising tide of desire, reminding himself to be patient. This was more than physical—it was trust. Love.

Baekhyun tilted his head back, resting it lightly on Chanyeol’s collarbone, completely unaware of the storm his presence stirred inside the alpha. And for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 Part 2

The morning light seeped weakly through the penthouse windows, casting a pale glow over the quiet room. Chanyeol had to carry Baekhyun to his room when he slept in the couch last night. And now they lay entwined in sleep, the fragile peace of the moment a rare balm to their turbulent lives.

Suddenly, the door slammed open with a force that shattered the calm.

Baekjin stormed inside, eyes blazing with fury. Without hesitation, his hand shot out, grabbing Baekhyun’s hair and yanking him roughly awake. Pain flared sharply as Baekhyun’s head was pulled back, his body stumbling and collapsing back onto the bed, disoriented and frightened.

The world spun as he stumbled back onto the bed, his hands trembling, his body trying to process the betrayal of the sharp tug.

“Get away from him, you little slut,” Baekjin spat, his voice venomous. “I warned you to get away from my fiance… you think you can seduce him away from me?!”

Baekhyun’s heart thudded wildly, his chest tightening with terror. The cruel words pierced deeper than the physical pain, dredging up memories of his mother’s harshness, and he couldn’t stop the tears that spilled down his cheeks.

Chanyeol snapped awake, alarm and fury igniting in his eyes. He lunged forward, pulling Baekjin’s harsh grip off Baekhyun. “Let him go! Don’t you dare touch him!”

Baekjin whirled around, eyes wild as he faced Chanyeol. “You’ve replaced me,” he accused bitterly, voice breaking. “Replaced me with this—this rat!!!” He is screaming at this point.

Chanyeol’s jaw tightened as he stepped protectively in front of Baekhyun. “Don't call him that. He’s mine and he's your twin.”

But Baekjin’s fury erupted violently. His hand swung out, slapping Baekhyun hard across the cheek. He groan in pain and the sharp crack echoed through the room.

Baekhyun’s head snapped to the side, tears streaming down his face as he collapsed from the bed, hitting the floor hard. His small frame curled instinctively as he sobbed, the pain overwhelming him.

Chanyeol jump out of the bed, but Baekjin didn't give him the chance to pick up the omega.

“I’m pregnant with your child, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol froze.

Baekjin laughed bitterly, but there was no humor in it. “You think you can just toss me aside? I’m carrying your child.” His voice cracked, desperation bleeding through the fury. “If you don’t come back to me, I’ll abort it. I swear. I will.”

The words hit Chanyeol like a punch to the gut. His whole body softened with a sudden weight, torn between anger and responsibility, between the person who hurt Baekhyun and the father who had to face the consequences.

Before Baekhyun could process, Baekjin stormed out, leaving the door swinging open behind him. Chanyeol’s footsteps thundered after Baekjin’s retreating form, leaving Baekhyun alone.

And in that vast, silent penthouse, Baekhyun’s world collapsed.

He curled into himself on the cold floor, shaking and sobbing, the trauma of years crashing down like a tidal wave.

His small hands covered his face as the tears soaked his palms, desperate to hide from the pain—the shame and fear. Every ugly word Baekjin spat echoed in his mind, mixing with the memories of his mother’s cruelty. The raw ache of being unwanted, unloved, and broken clawed through his chest.

“I didn’t do anything wrong... I didn’t mean to… Please…I'm so sorry...” Baekhyun whispered hoarsely, voice cracking with despair.

His breaths came ragged and shallow, as if his body was trying to shrink away from the hurt. The room felt suffocating, the silence oppressive.

He reached out with trembling hands, trying to get up “Chanyeol… please don’t leave me alone…”

But no answer came.

The space where Chanyeol had been felt vast and empty, and Baekhyun’s sobs grew louder, filling the cold penthouse with a desperate, aching loneliness that made his small body shake.

He buried his face in his knees, wishing—praying—for the pain to stop, for someone to protect him, for the nightmare to end.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol followed Baekjin back to Dalhae, the drive tense and suffocating. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his mind still echoing with Baekjin’s furious voice, the image of Baekhyun crying on the floor burned into him.

When they arrived, Baekjin stormed inside without waiting. Drawers slammed, clothes were yanked out, his movements frantic and sharp.

“Baekjin—”

“I’m done talking!” he snapped, not even sparing him a glance. “I’m not staying here to be humiliated!”

Chanyeol stayed in the doorway, heavy with frustration. “Just calm down, we need to—”

“There’s nothing to calm down about! I’m going home.” His voice cracked. His definition of *home* was clear.

Minutes later, Chanyeol found himself trailing behind once more, this time to the Byun estate.

Mrs. Byun answered the door, her sharp eyes softening instantly when she saw Baekjin. She reached for him as if she’d been waiting years, fussing over his hair, his clothes, holding him tight like he was her only treasure.

“My son,” she breathed with palpable relief. “You’re finally back.”

Chanyeol swallowed hard and forced himself forward. “Mrs. Byun. We need to talk.”

Her eyes slid to him, cool and assessing. “Yes?”

“It’s about the pregnancy,” Chanyeol said, his voice low. “Please… make sure he’s looked after. That he doesn’t do anything to harm the child.”

Her lips curved into a cruel smirk, satisfaction glinting in her gaze. “Of course. You’ll take responsibility, then.”

“That’s not exactly—”

“You can keep Baekhyun if you want,” she interrupted, her tone like venom disguised as honey. “As a pet. Play with him until you’re bored, then return him. But…” Her eyes narrowed, sharp as knives. “Do not make Baekjin jealous. If you do, you’ll never see your child.”

The words slammed into him like iron shackles. His chest tightened, his thoughts spun wild, and before her smirk could sink deeper into his skin, he left.

---

By the time Chanyeol got back into his car, his head was chaos—angry voices, Baekhyun’s tear-streaked face, Baekjin’s accusations, Mrs. Byun’s threats. The thought of going home, of facing Baekhyun’s silence, felt unbearable.

So he called Sehun. Not Minseok. Not Junmyeon. Sehun wouldn’t judge.

Hours later, Sehun dropped him off, worry hidden behind a tired grin. Chanyeol waved him off, stumbling toward his penthouse door, his body heavy with drink and exhaustion.

The silence inside hit him first. Too quiet.

He headed straight to the guest room—perfectly made, untouched. His heart lurched.

“Baekhyun?” His voice echoed, uneasy.

No answer.

He searched the bathroom. The kitchen. The balcony. Nowhere. Panic surged sharp in his chest, his pulse quickening.

He called Sehun back. “He’s gone.”

“What?” Sehun muttered, groggy.

“Baekhyun’s not here. The bed’s untouched—he’s nowhere!”

“Maybe he left you,” Sehun yawned.

“He has nowhere to go!” Chanyeol snapped, his fear making him harsher.

A shuffle, then a softer voice slipped through—Luhan’s. “Check your closet,” he murmured knowingly. “If he’s scared… he’ll hide where he feels safest. Clothes smell like you. That’s where I’d look.”

Chanyeol hung up without another word. He strode to his bedroom, yanked open the closet door—

And froze.

Baekhyun was there, curled small against the corner, buried in a pile of Chanyeol’s shirts and jackets. His thin arms hugged the fabric tightly, as if the scent could protect him. His knees were drawn to his chest, back turned, trembling faintly.

“Baekhyun.” Chanyeol crouched down, his chest still pounding with leftover panic.

A twitch in his back. Awake. But he didn’t turn, didn’t answer.

“I was calling you,” Chanyeol said, voice rough with alcohol and fear. “You didn’t answer. I was worried.”

Silence.

Something in him snapped, frustration twisting with his alpha instinct. His tone dropped, commanding, sharp. “Get out of the closet. Now. Go back to the guest room.”

Still nothing.

“Now.” The word cracked out harsher than he meant, heavy with dominance.

Baekhyun flinched violently. His body trembled, fear bleeding into his small frame. Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself up. A muffled groan escaped him, the kind born of pain he tried to swallow down.

But Chanyeol didn’t notice. Didn’t see the way Baekhyun’s shoulder sagged unnaturally, didn’t see how his head stayed bowed low to hide his face.

The boy shuffled past him silently, movements stiff, fragile. He didn’t lift his eyes, didn’t say a word. Just walked back to the guest room like a shadow.

Chanyeol let out a tired breath, the alcohol heavy in his blood, and collapsed onto his bed without another thought.

He didn’t hear the soft, broken sobs muffled by Baekhyun’s pillow. Didn’t see the tears soaking into the fabric. Didn’t know that Baekhyun curled himself into the same small ball as before, his bruised face hidden, shoulder aching, heart breaking—
bracing himself for a storm that never seemed to end.

---

Morning came with a pounding hangover. Chanyeol dragged himself up, head throbbing, throat dry, guilt scratching faintly at the edges of his mind.

He went to the guest room and knocked. “Baekhyun. Get ready. I’ll drop you at your lesson before work.”

Silence.

He sighed and left to get dressed. By the time he was buttoning his blazer, he called again, softer this time, “Breakfast’s ready.”

The sound of slow, dragging footsteps reached him.

Baekhyun appeared in the doorway, drowned in an oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants. The clothes swallowed him whole, making him look even smaller. His movements were stiff, deliberate, like every step cost him.

At first Chanyeol’s gaze skimmed over him casually. Then it caught.

The pallor of his skin. The way he held his left shoulder as if protecting it. The faint swelling on his cheek, the bruise blooming dark and ugly under the hood’s shadow.

Baekhyun kept his head low, hiding as he sat at the table and quietly picked at his rice.

“Baek…” Chanyeol’s voice faltered, guilt slamming into him.

“You don’t need to go to your lesson if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll go,” Baekhyun whispered hoarsely, his voice scraped raw from yesterday’s cries. His chopsticks trembled faintly as he forced a bite into his mouth, eyes never leaving the bowl.

Of course he wanted to go. The thought of being left alone here terrified him. What if Baekjin came back?

Chanyeol’s chest ached. The memory of last night—the drinks, the escape, the selfishness—turned sour in his gut.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost desperately. “For leaving you. For not protecting you.”

Baekhyun froze for only a second before resuming his slow movements. He didn’t look up. Didn’t speak. Just kept eating in silence.

The quiet between them was heavier than anger, colder than rejection. It was the silence of someone who had given up expecting anything.

And Chanyeol sat there, coffee forgotten, watching the boy in front of him endure his pain quietly, his own guilt swelling until it threatened to choke him.

For the first time, Park Chanyeol felt powerless.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol drove in silence that morning, one hand tight on the steering wheel, the other resting near the gearshift like he wanted to reach for Baekhyun but didn’t dare. The omega sat curled up against the window, his gaze blank as the city passed them by. Not a single word left his lips the whole ride. His right arm was cradled close to his body, as if holding it in place could dull the sharp pain radiating from his shoulder.

When they arrived at the art studio, Baekhyun forced a small smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” he whispered, though Chanyeol didn’t even ask. He climbed out carefully, biting back a wince as his body protested the movement. Chanyeol only gave him a brief nod before driving away, burying himself in the promise of work to forget what had happened yesterday.

Inside the classroom, Baekhyun sat in front of his canvas, brush trembling in his left hand. He tried lifting the right one, his dominant hand, but a sharp pain sliced through his shoulder, making him gasp. His vision blurred with tears. He tried again, jaw clenched, until the brush clattered against the easel. The faces of yesterday rushed back to him—Baekjin’s hand across his cheek, the brutal yank that sent him crashing to the floor, the fiery throb that shot up his shoulder as Chanyeol just stood frozen.

The tears wouldn’t stop.

His teacher, who had been quietly observing, hurried over.
“Baekhyun? What’s wrong, dear?” she asked gently. Her eyes widened when she noticed his trembling, the unnatural stiffness of his arm, and the feverish flush across his cheeks.

“I—I can’t…” Baekhyun choked, breath hitching as he tried to steady his brush again. But his entire body shuddered, his head spinning. His lips trembled as if he wanted to say more, but exhaustion consumed him. The teacher caught him just as his knees buckled and his body went limp.

The omega collapsed.

Panic filled the room.
“Call an ambulance!” the teacher shouted, lowering him to the floor with help from another student.

Minutes later, Baekhyun was rushed into an ambulance, fever climbing and pain stealing his consciousness. His teacher’s hands trembled as she dialed Chanyeol’s number again and again, only to be met with silence.

At Park Corporations, Chanyeol buried himself in files, eyes fixed on the screen though his mind replayed the image of Baekjin dragging Baekhyun from his bed. He refused to think of it, refused to feel the guilt clawing at his chest. When his phone buzzed for the fourth time, he silenced it without looking.

“Sir.” His secretary’s voice cut through the office quiet, hesitant and uneasy.

Chanyeol looked up. “What is it?”

“It’s Baekhyun’s art teacher,” she said, holding out the phone. “She said… Baekhyun collapsed during class. He’s in the hospital right now.”

For a moment, Chanyeol couldn’t breathe. His entire body went cold, the blood draining from his face. His heart nearly dropped into his stomach, pounding so violently it made his chest ache.

“What?” he rasped, already reaching for the phone with shaking hands.

He didn’t even remember how he got into the car or how fast he drove—just the way his chest squeezed until he thought he would suffocate.

By the time he reached the hospital, Baekhyun was already unconscious in a sterile white bed. The doctor explained the injury in a calm, professional voice—his shoulder fractured, ribs bruised, exhaustion weighing down his body and the fever. But all Chanyeol could hear was the roaring guilt in his own ears. He hadn’t noticed.

When the room finally quieted, Chanyeol sat at Baekhyun’s bedside. His large hand brushed over Baekhyun’s limp one, trembling as he whispered, “I’m sorry… I should’ve seen it. I should’ve stopped it. I promise, Baekhyun… I’ll protect you. No one will hurt you again.” His voice cracked, and for the first time in years, tears slipped down his cheeks.

He stayed until his clothes felt heavy and the nurse suggested he get things Baekhyun might need for a longer stay. Reluctantly, Chanyeol left—just for a short while—to grab some of Baekhyun’s clothes, food, and the prescribed medication.

The room was quiet when Baekhyun stirred awake. His lashes fluttered against pale skin, and the first thing he registered was the sterile smell. The bright light. The unfamiliar ceiling. His heart began to race.

“Chanyeol?” he called softly, voice breaking. Silence answered.

Panic surged like a tidal wave. He sat up too quickly, pain shooting through his shoulder, but he barely registered it. His eyes darted around the room—too clean, too white, too strange. *Where am I? Why am I alone? Did he leave me too?*

“No, no, no…” Baekhyun stumbled off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold linoleum. His breathing turned sharp and shallow as he pushed the door open and stumbled into the busy hallway.

The sight of strangers in white coats and buzzing machines overwhelmed him instantly. His body stiffened, trembling as if he were a child again. Flashes of memory burned behind his eyes—his mother’s cold hand gripping his hair, Baekjin’s palm striking across his face, the sharp sting of shame and helplessness as he stood cornered, unable to fight back. Every voice in the hallway blended into that old chaos, every stranger’s glance turning into the accusing eyes of his family.

“Chanyeol!” His voice cracked, higher now, desperate. He shoved past a nurse who tried to approach him, eyes wild, chest heaving. “Don’t leave me—don’t leave me!”

He pressed against the wall, hands shaking as he covered his head, sobs ripping from his throat. He could almost *feel* his mother’s hand twisting his hair, almost hear Baekjin’s voice sneering in his ear. The sterile brightness blurred into the memory of the Byun estate’s suffocating hallways, the punishment that always came when he spoke out of turn.

He slid down the wall, knees curling to his chest, whispering, “Chanyeol come back…”

He has no one else but Chanyeol.

Then a familiar voice cut through the chaos.
“Baekhyun!”

Chanyeol.

Baekhyun’s head snapped up, tears streaming down his face. Chanyeol was running toward him, arms full of bags he nearly dropped in his haste. His usually steady composure was shattered, panic etched across his features as he abandoned everything he carried and fell to his knees in front of Baekhyun.

“Baekhyun, I’m here—I’m here.” His arms wrapped around the trembling omega, pulling him tight against his chest. Baekhyun gasped, clutching fistfuls of Chanyeol’s shirt as if to anchor himself to reality.

“I thought—you left me—” Baekhyun’s words broke apart into sobs, his body shaking so hard it felt like he might splinter. “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me again.”

Chanyeol’s throat tightened painfully. He pressed his lips to Baekhyun’s hair, rocking him gently as he whispered, “Never. I’ll never leave you. I just went to get your things, that’s all. I’m so sorry, Baekhyun. You’re safe now. I swear, you’re safe.”

Baekhyun’s cries echoed down the hallway, raw and childlike, until Chanyeol gathered him up in his arms and carried him back into the room. The omega clung to him like a lifeline, trembling still, but slowly calming under the steady rhythm of Chanyeol’s heartbeat against his ear.

And Chanyeol, his own tears falling silently, held him tighter—as if letting go for even a second would mean losing him forever.

Chapter Text

Baekhyun’s discharge day arrived quietly. The sterile white of the hospital walls felt both suffocating and safe, and when Chanyeol stepped out to handle paperwork, Baekhyun’s heart clenched like he was being abandoned again. His hands trembled as he sat on the edge of the bed, gown loose over his thin frame.

Luhan slipped beside him first, smiling softly, a hand resting lightly over Baekhyun’s wrist.
“Don’t be scared,” he whispered, voice warm and careful. “Chanyeol will be back soon. He’s not leaving you.”

Kyungsoo, gentle and practical as ever, helped Baekhyun change into the clothes Chanyeol brought—soft hoodie, loose pants, nothing restricting. “See? You’ll be home soon. Just breathe.” His touch was brisk but reassuring, never invasive.

When Chanyeol returned, Baekhyun’s eyes immediately lit up, relief washing over his face. The alpha gave both omegas a deep bow of gratitude.
“Thank you—for staying with him.” His voice was low, almost raw.

They smiled knowingly, squeezed Baekhyun’s hands once more, and left.

---

At the penthouse, Chanyeol became almost unbearably careful. He worked from home, his laptop always somewhere nearby, but his attention never straying far from Baekhyun. And Baekhyun—Baekhyun clung. He curled into Chanyeol’s side whenever he could, arms wound around the alpha’s waist, face pressed into his chest or shoulder.

Scared to be left alone again.

Sometimes, when he woke to an empty bed, he panicked—eyes wild, chest heaving—until Chanyeol emerged from the bathroom.
“Shh, I’m here. I’ll always be here,” Chanyeol soothed, pulling him close until Baekhyun’s frantic breaths evened out against his heartbeat.

The penthouse itself changed, too. Chanyeol reset the door code so Baekjin could never barge in again, and patiently showed Baekhyun how to use it. He placed a brand-new phone in Baekhyun’s hands, guiding his fingers as he dialed.
“This is my number. Anytime, Baekhyun—anytime, you call me.”
He also added Luhan’s and Kyungsoo’s contacts, murmuring, “If I can’t answer right away, you’ll feel safer hearing their voices.”

Baekhyun was hesitant, but he listened. He learned quickly, determination flickering behind his timid fear.

---

After a few days, Chanyeol decided to take him out.
“We’ll go together,” he said gently. “I want you to know how to find your way, just in case.”

He showed Baekhyun how to ride the bus, then the subway, guiding him step by step. They retraced routes: to his art lessons, to Chanyeol’s office, and back to the penthouse. Baekhyun clutched his transportation card and the sleek black credit card Chanyeol slipped into his baby blue fluffy sling bag, overwhelmed but obedient.

The first time the crowd pressed too close, Baekhyun froze. His eyes filled with tears, his body trembling as he clung to Chanyeol’s sleeve.
“I—I can’t—” he stammered, voice breaking.

Chanyeol immediately pulled him aside, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. “Hey, breathe with me. Just me. Nobody else matters right now.” His deep voice anchored Baekhyun, his scent wrapping around him like a cocoon until the world felt bearable again.

Baekhyun’s tears soaked into Chanyeol’s shirt, but slowly his panic eased. He always ended up in Chanyeol’s embrace, pressed to his chest where he felt safest. And every time, Chanyeol whispered,
“You’re not alone anymore. I won’t let go.”

---

Baekhyun fiddled with his chopsticks, sneaking glances at Chanyeol across the dining table. The penthouse felt too big, too quiet, especially when the thought of being left behind crept into his chest like a weight.

“Why are you teaching me all this?” Baekhyun finally asked, his voice small, almost hesitant. “The buses, the subway routes… are you planning to leave me?” he sulk like a child.

Chanyeol froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He set them down carefully, watching the omega’s anxious eyes. “No, Baekhyun,” he said firmly, leaning forward so Baekhyun couldn’t look away. “I’m not leaving you. I just… want you to be prepared. Once I tell my family the truth—that the Byuns switched you and Baekjin—it’s going to be chaos. I don’t know what will happen, and I need to know you’ll be safe, that you’ll know how to move on your own if anything happens.”

Baekhyun’s lips parted, but no words came out. The idea of facing Chanyeol’s powerful family—or the public—terrified him.

“And…” Chanyeol hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “My rut is coming soon. I’ll have to isolate for a few days. Maybe Luhan or Kyungsoo can stay with you here during that time. I don’t want you alone.”

The omega immediately shook his head, panic flashing in his expression. “No. Don’t leave me with them. Don’t leave me at all.”

“Baekhyun…”

“I don’t care if it’s dangerous or inconvenient,” Baekhyun insisted, clutching his chopsticks like they were his anchor. “I want to be with you. Not with anyone else.”

Chanyeol exhaled slowly, fighting the swell of warmth and guilt that rose in his chest. Baekhyun’s fear wasn’t just about safety—it was about abandonment.

Chanyeol’s hand froze halfway to his mouth. The words hit him harder than they should have. He lowered his gaze to his plate, chewing slowly, buying himself time. “Baekhyun… you don’t understand. My rut isn’t something you just… stay around for. It’s dangerous. I lose control. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Baekhyun said firmly, surprising even himself with how certain he sounded. His fingers curled against his lap. "I trust you Chanyeol." his voice faltered.

He set his chopsticks down and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly restless. “It doesn’t work like that. You’ve never seen me in rut. I can’t think straight. I could—” He bit back the image that rose in his head. His voice dropped, rough. “I could mark you without asking. I could—force things. And that’s the last thing I’d ever want to happen.”

Baekhyun’s chest ached at how seriously he said it. “Then make rules.”

Chanyeol blinked at him. “Rules?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun nodded, leaning forward earnestly. “If it’s about control, then set boundaries. Tell me what I can or can’t do. Tell me when to step back. I’ll listen. But don’t send me away, Chanyeol. Not now.” His voice cracked on the last words, and he lowered his gaze, ashamed at how desperate he sounded.

The omega's tears rolled down and the sob immediately started.

Chanyeol’s throat tightened. He hated how small Baekhyun looked across the table, shoulders hunched, afraid of being left again. He exhaled, long and heavy. “Baekhyun…” He reached across the table, his hand wiping the omega's tears and pulling him closer for a hug. “Stop crying.. I promise I won't let you go...”

Baekhyun squeezed back. “I just want to be with you, Chanyeol please..”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The city lights spilled through the wide glass windows, throwing faint reflections across the table. Finally, Chanyeol shut his eyes and let out a low groan, half frustration, half surrender. “You’ll stay. But…” His grip tightened. “There will be rules. You don’t touch me unless I say it’s okay. You don’t sleep in my room unless I let you in. If I tell you to lock the door and stay away, you do it. No arguments. Understand?”

Baekhyun nodded quickly, relief washing over him. “I understand.”

Chanyeol opened his eyes again, his gaze heavy with a warning he couldn’t quite voice. “And if I ever—if I ever push too far, you run. No second chances. You don’t wait to see if I’ll stop. You just run. Call Luhan and Kyungsoo and ran. Okay?”

Baekhyun’s lips parted, heart racing. He wanted to say he wouldn’t run, that he trusted Chanyeol completely—but he bit it back, sensing how much effort it took for the alpha to even allow this. So instead, he whispered, “Okay.”

Chanyeol sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as if that could undo the knot in his chest. “Damn it, Baekhyun. You make it impossible to say no to you.”

Baekhyun’s lips curved in a small, triumphant smile—soft, not smug. He looked relieved more than anything, his shoulders loosening as though a heavy burden had just slid off.

They finished cleaning up dinner together, though Chanyeol did most of it. Baekhyun kept hovering near, drying the dishes slowly, clearly unwilling to put any more distance between them. His strawberry-sweet scent lingered faintly in the kitchen, wrapping around Chanyeol’s already heightened nerves.

When the last plate was stacked away, Chanyeol wiped his hands and glanced at him. “You should sleep early. The next few days… might be rough.”

Baekhyun nodded obediently, but instead of retreating, he followed Chanyeol into the hall like a quiet shadow. When they reached Baekhyun’s room, Chanyeol paused. “You’ll be safer here. Stay in. Remember the rules.”

Baekhyun leaned against the doorframe, eyes tilted up at him with a stubborn spark. “I remember. But… can you stay, just until I fall asleep?”

Chanyeol froze. The request was so simple, but it made his throat tighten. He wanted to say no, but the plea in Baekhyun’s voice disarmed him. He finally exhaled and stepped in, pulling the blanket over Baekhyun once he lay down.

“Go to sleep,” Chanyeol muttered, voice low and gruff.

Baekhyun, already curling closer to the pillow, whispered through the dark, “Thank you, Yeol.”

Chanyeol lingered on the edge of the bed, watching until Baekhyun’s breaths evened out, his lashes fanned against flushed cheeks. The omega looked fragile, small, but his scent was steady—sweet, grounding.

When he was certain Baekhyun was asleep, Chanyeol kissed his temple before slipping out quietly, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wall outside, jaw clenched, already restless. The air in his lungs felt too hot, too heavy.

His rut was close.

And Baekhyun had no idea what kind of fire he had just walked into.

Chapter Text

The rut came like a storm.

Chanyeol had locked the heavy wooden door from the inside, his body burning, trembling, his breaths ragged against the pillow as he tried to smother his own scent. He could feel his fangs ache, his knot pulsing even without release, his instincts tearing through the fragile control he had built over the years.

He had warned Baekhyun.
He had begged him not to come near.

And yet—

“Chanyeol…”

The small, shaking voice drifted through the crack of the door, and his heart dropped into chaos.

“Baekhyun,” he growled, voice hoarse, barely human, “go back. Lock yourself in your room. Don’t come near me.”

There was silence for a moment, then the softest reply:
“I don’t want to be alone. I'm scared..”

The alpha’s chest ached at the words, even as his nails dug into the mattress. He could already smell it — faint, sweet, strawberries. Baekhyun’s scent clung to the air, curling through the cracks in the door, and it was unbearable.

He heard the click. The forbidden sound of the lock turning.

“No—!”

But it was too late.

Baekhyun stepped in, pale and trembling, his hands clenched in front of him like a child fighting his fear. “I know about heats and ruts,” he whispered quickly, as if defending his choice. “My teacher explained everything… not in a bad way. Just so I’d understand.” His eyes lifted, watery but determined. “I know you’re suffering. I want to help.”

“Help?” Chanyeol’s laugh was low, broken, dangerous. “You don’t even understand what you’re walking into. Do you know what I could do to you right now?”

“I trust you.”

Two words. That was all it took.

Chanyeol snapped.

In a blur, he pinned Baekhyun against the wall, the sheer size difference making the omega shiver. His forearms caged either side of Baekhyun’s head, his breath scorching against his skin. He trembled violently, his body torn between hunger and restraint. His lips hovered close enough that Baekhyun could feel the heat of them, yet he didn’t touch.

“Don’t say that to me,” Chanyeol whispered, voice cracking. “Don’t give me something I might break.”

Baekhyun’s eyes softened. He tilted his face up, cheeks flushed crimson. “You won’t break me.”

Something inside Chanyeol shattered. His restraint slipped like water through his hands, and his lips finally crashed against Baekhyun’s.

Baekhyun’s first kiss.

It was messy, desperate — Chanyeol’s fangs grazed but never pierced, his mouth hot and demanding. Baekhyun gasped against him, overwhelmed, clinging to Chanyeol’s shirt as if anchoring himself in the storm. His innocence only made the alpha’s chest tighten, guilt warring with desire.

The omega made a tiny sound — half whimper, half plea — and Chanyeol lost his breath.

“Baekhyun…”

He scooped Baekhyun into his arms, placing him gently on the bed. The omega’s knees bent instinctively, and Chanyeol’s trembling hands coaxed his thighs apart just enough to slot his own body between them. He didn’t dare undress him, didn’t dare cross that line. But his rut was clawing for friction.

He pressed his forehead against Baekhyun’s neck, inhaling him like air as his hips began to move.

It started with slow, helpless rolls, the ache in his body finding friction through the thin layers of their clothes. But soon his control unraveled; his movements grew messier, desperate. The swollen length straining against his pants dragged across Baekhyun’s stomach with every thrust.

Baekhyun gasped sharply, his small hands clutching at Chanyeol’s shoulders. His wide eyes shimmered with confusion and wonder, cheeks pink. “Wh-what is that? Why does it… feel like this?”

“My body… looking for release,” Chanyeol panted, voice broken. “I’m sorry, I can’t—stop—”

Baekhyun shook his head quickly, breath trembling. “Then don’t stop. If it helps… I want to help you.”

The words undid him.

A guttural groan ripped from his throat as he ground down harder, knot throbbing painfully, hips rutting uncontrollably against Baekhyun’s smaller frame. His release built like wildfire, his entire body shaking with each frantic movement.

Baekhyun whimpered softly beneath him, overwhelmed by the weight and heat of Chanyeol above him. His legs trembled, knees parting more as instinct and the alpha’s scent wrapped around him. He didn’t understand everything, but his trust never wavered; he clung to Chanyeol’s shirt and let him move, let him take what he needed.

“B-Baekhyun!” Chanyeol choked out, his voice breaking as his climax slammed through him. His hips jerked erratically one last time before he buried his face in Baekhyun’s neck, knot twitching violently as his release spilled hot and sticky inside his pants. His whole body convulsed, a guttural moan muffled into the omega’s skin.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of Chanyeol’s ragged panting and Baekhyun’s small gasps. The storm inside him slowly ebbed, leaving behind exhaustion and shame.

When the haze cleared, reality crashed in.

He lifted his head slowly, horrified at how close he had come to losing control completely. Baekhyun’s lips were swollen from their kiss, his cheeks damp with tears he hadn’t realized he’d shed, but his gaze was soft — not afraid.

“Did… did I hurt you?” Chanyeol’s voice shook.

Baekhyun shook his head gently, offering a small, trembling smile. “You didn’t hurt me. You stopped yourself.”

Something deep in Chanyeol’s chest cracked wide open.

He gathered Baekhyun into his arms, holding him so tightly it was almost crushing. The storm of his rut still pulsed in his veins, but for the first time, he wasn’t afraid of it. He buried his face into Baekhyun’s hair, whispering against the crown of his head.

“I’m proud of you,” Baekhyun whispered sleepily.

Chanyeol froze, stunned. Then his throat tightened, because Baekhyun had said the words he himself had been clinging to. He was proud — proud that he hadn’t broken him, hadn’t ruined the one fragile, innocent soul who trusted him completely.

“Sleep, Baek,” he murmured, pulling the blankets over them. “I’ll hold you. I won’t let go.”

The omega curled closer, already drifting, his scent sweet and steady.

Chanyeol lay awake long after, heart aching, knot still throbbing painfully but his soul strangely light. For the first time in years, he had faced his rut and come out not as a monster — but as someone Baekhyun could still look at with trust.

When Baekhyun’s soft breaths finally evened into sleep, Chanyeol pressed a trembling kiss to his forehead.

And he realized — he had given Baekhyun his first kiss.
And Baekhyun had given him something even greater.

A reason to believe he could still be more than his instincts.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Chanyeol woke to Baekhyun’s warmth curled against his chest. For a few stolen seconds, he allowed himself to breathe in that strawberry-sweet scent, to feel the steady little heartbeat against his ribs. It almost felt normal — like they were just a couple waking to another peaceful morning, not two fractured souls bound by pain and circumstance.

But the storm inside him hadn’t passed. His rut still clawed and burned, his knot aching with the same fierce hunger that terrified him. He had promised himself — and Baekhyun — that he would never let instinct dictate his actions again. And if that meant keeping his omega away, even when every fiber of his being wanted the opposite, then he would endure it.

Before Baekhyun stirred awake, Chanyeol slipped out of bed. His hands shook as he reached for his phone.

“Hyung,” he rasped when Luhan answered. “I need a favor. Take Baekhyun to the art studio later… and then to Kyungsoo’s café. Keep him there until evening. Please.”

There was a pause on the other end, Luhan’s sharp mind reading between the lines.
“Are you in rut?” he guessed quietly.
Chanyeol’s silence was answer enough.
“I’ll take care of him,” Luhan promised. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t judge. And for that, Chanyeol’s chest ached with gratitude.

When Baekhyun woke, Chanyeol forced himself to greet him gently as his rut is still calm at the moment, smiling even as the fire under his skin burned. He helped Baekhyun wash up, served him breakfast, listened patiently as Baekhyun shyly told him about the painting he wanted to finish later in his lesson. He did everything except let Baekhyun catch the storm still raging inside him.

By late morning, Luhan arrived at the door. Baekhyun blinked in confusion when Chanyeol told him to go with him.
“Chanyeol…?” He clutched Chanyeol’s sleeve, scared, voice small. “I'm scared without you.."

The words sliced through him. Chanyeol quickly shook his head, cupping Baekhyun’s cheek with a trembling hand.
“Baek, this is just temporary. Remember Luhanie, he is Sehun's omega. He is just like you but older. You will be fine with him, and you will learn a lot from him. Is Luhanie look scary to you?”

Baekhyun look at the elder omega. Luhan is pretty, elegant and confident. His beauty is a mix of innocence and dominance.

Baekhyun shook his head so Chanyeol signaled Luhan to coaxed him gently toward the door. Chanyeol stood rooted to the spot as Baekhyun looked back with hesitant eyes, until the elevator doors closed and his omega disappeared from view.

The moment the door shut, the weight of his rut crashed back. He locked himself in his bedroom, forehead pressed to the cool wood, breathing hard.
“I’m sorry, Baek,” he whispered to no one. “Just a few more days. I have to protect you from me.”

---

Luhan kept his promise. After Baekhyun’s art lessons, he drove him straight to Kyungsoo’s café, a cozy little place that smelled of fresh bread and butter. Kyungsoo met them with his usual grumpy face, which softened the moment he saw Baekhyun.

“Sit,” Kyungsoo said, already setting down a plate of warm cookies and a steaming cup of milk. The scent of sugar and butter made Baekhyun’s eyes widen.

“These… these are for me?” he asked shyly.

Kyungsoo arched a brow. “Who else?”

Baekhyun hesitated, cheeks pink. “I… I don’t have any money. Can I pay with this?” He pulled out the sleek black card Chanyeol had given him, holding it carefully between his pretty fingers. “Chanyeol said I could use it if I needed anything. Does it work here?”

For a second, there was stunned silence. Then Luhan snorted. Kyungsoo outright laughed, a rare warm sound.

“You precious thing,” Luhan said, ruffling Baekhyun’s hair.
Kyungsoo shook his head, still chuckling. “You don’t have to pay here, Baekhyun. And yes, that card will work anywhere in the city. Probably anywhere in the world. But in my café? You eat for free.”

Baekhyun blinked at them, a small innocent smile tugging at his lips. “Really? Then… thank you.” He nibbled on a cookie, and the quiet joy on his face made both Luhan and Kyungsoo exchange a look — the kind of look only people who wanted to protect him could share.

For the next two days, this became Baekhyun’s routine: mornings at the art studio, afternoons at Kyungsoo’s café. And every evening, Luhan brought him home, where he softly knocked on Chanyeol’s locked bedroom door. Every night, he waited for an answer that didn’t come.

The muffled knocks nearly broke Chanyeol’s resolve each time, but he stayed behind that locked door. He would not risk breaking the fragile trust Baekhyun had given him.

---

On the third morning, the fever haze finally broke. Chanyeol’s scent evened out, the storm in his blood subsiding into silence. He dragged himself out of his room, dark circles under his eyes, and found Baekhyun curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring down at his hands.

“Baek?” Chanyeol’s voice was rough.

Baekhyun startled, lifting his head. When his eyes landed on Chanyeol, his face lit up with such fragile relief that Chanyeol’s chest ached.

“Your scent is calm,” Baekhyun said softly. “Does that mean… it’s over?”

Chanyeol nodded. “Yeah. It’s over.”

For the first time in days, he allowed himself to kneel beside Baekhyun and pull him into his arms. Baekhyun clung back immediately, but after a moment, his small voice trembled against Chanyeol’s chest.

“Chanyeol… did I do something wrong? Is that why you didn’t want to see me after that night?”

The question shattered him. Chanyeol pulled back enough to see Baekhyun’s face, his own hands trembling as they cupped the omega’s cheeks.

“No, Baek. You didn’t do anything wrong. This wasn’t your fault.” He swallowed, forcing himself to explain. “My rut wasn’t over. I had to stay away, because if I didn’t… I might have touched you again. More than that night. And if I lost control, you could have gotten pregnant.”

Baekhyun blinked at him, confusion and innocence clear in his eyes. “What’s wrong with that? I’m your husband.”

The simple words hit Chanyeol like a thunderclap. His breath caught. “Baek…” He shook his head slowly, voice hoarse. “You’ve spent your whole life locked inside a house. You were hurt, abused, forced into this marriage with me before you even knew what freedom meant. You deserve more than being tied down with a child right now. You deserve to live first. To see the world. To eat every dessert you want, visit every place you dreamed of, learn what you like and dislike. You deserve to be spoiled and safe and loved without… without any more chains.”

Baekhyun’s lips parted, eyes filling with tears. “But… I want to be with you.”

“You are with me,” Chanyeol said firmly, pulling him close again. “And I’ll give you everything you missed. One day, when you’re ready, and when you want it for yourself — not because someone forced it on you — then we can talk about children. But not now. Not when you’re still learning what it feels like to live.”

Baekhyun buried his face in Chanyeol’s chest, silent tears dampening his shirt. "Thank you Chanyeol.. I love you." He said innocently. Chanyeol held him tighter, his own throat burning.

"I love you too Baek."

For the first time since his rut began, the weight inside Chanyeol’s chest eased. Baekhyun trusted him — not as a monster, not as a captor, but as someone who would fight even his own instincts to protect him.

And that, Chanyeol vowed silently, was a promise he would never break.

Chapter Text

Baekhyun had never been on a plane before.

He tried to act calm when they entered the airport, clutching his small sling bag tightly while Chanyeol handled the tickets and their luggage with practiced ease. But the closer they got to the boarding gate, the more his stomach fluttered.

“Hey,” Chanyeol’s warm voice broke through his thoughts as they settled into their seats. “Nervous?”

Baekhyun nodded sheepishly, biting his lip.

Chanyeol smiled softly and reached over to zip Baekhyun’s jacket all the way up. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” He carefully adjusted the seatbelt over Baekhyun’s lap, then placed a pair of soft headphones over his ears. “Music helps. Close your eyes. Just hold my hand if you get scared.”

The plane engines roared, and Baekhyun’s fingers immediately clutched Chanyeol’s. His heartbeat thudded fast, but Chanyeol’s thumb rubbed calming circles against his skin. “You’re okay,” Chanyeol murmured close to his ear. “Just breathe.”

With Chanyeol beside him, Baekhyun’s nerves eased. The low hum of the music, the steady warmth of Chanyeol’s hand, and the soft press of the jacket around him lulled him into drowsiness. By the time they were above the clouds, Baekhyun had fallen asleep, his cheek leaning against Chanyeol’s shoulder.

---

He woke up when the announcement for landing played. The moment they stepped out into Jeju’s fresh sea-scented air, Baekhyun’s anxiety was replaced with awe.

“Woah,” he whispered, eyes wide as they walked to Chanyeol’s car (a different one from his house in Jeju, he asked his driver to bring it). He bounced on his feet like an excited puppy, his sling bag clutched close to his chest.

Chanyeol chuckled at the sight while effortlessly carrying their suitcases. “You’re really seeing the world for the first time, huh?”

“Everything feels… bigger,” Baekhyun admitted, peeking out the car window as Chanyeol drove. His eyes darted everywhere—the endless sky, the wide fields, the distant glimmer of the ocean. The scent of the sea only grew stronger, filling the car with salt and warmth.

When they finally arrived, Baekhyun froze at the sight before him.

The beach stretched out endlessly, its water crystal clear, the sand white and soft like powdered sugar. The private beach house stood a little higher on a wooden deck, with wide glass windows reflecting the sunset glow. A pool sparkled next to it, perfectly blending with the horizon.

Baekhyun’s lips parted. “It’s… beautiful.”

Chanyeol smiled at his reaction, reaching over to pinch his cheek lightly. “Wait until you see the inside. Come on, puppy.”

---

Inside, the house felt warm and open, with wood accents and the sound of waves faintly echoing through the windows. Chanyeol brought Baekhyun’s suitcase into his room, making sure he had everything he needed.

“You’ll stay here and I'm just in tbe other room. The view’s amazing in the morning,” Chanyeol said, setting the bag near the bed.

Baekhyun stood by the window, gazing at the shimmering water. “I… never thought I’d see something like this in my life.”

Chanyeol’s chest ached a little at how sincere he sounded. “Get used to it,” he teased gently. “You deserve to see more.”

After they unpacked, Chanyeol led him back outside. The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Together, they set up a small barbecue on the deck. Baekhyun helped arrange the skewers and plates while Chanyeol handled the grill.

Later, when the food was done, they ate by the poolside. The evening breeze was cool against Baekhyun’s skin, but his heart felt warm.

“After this,” Chanyeol said, leaning back in his chair, “let’s go swimming. The pool lights are even prettier at night.”

Baekhyun’s eyes lit up, his excitement impossible to hide. “Really?”

Chanyeol chuckled. “Really. You’ll love it.”

And Baekhyun did.

Baekhyun sat hesitantly at the very edge where the waves lapped gently against the sand, the water reaching just up to his neck as he stayed crouched low, legs folded underneath him. The ocean stretched endlessly before them, golden with the glow of the late-afternoon sun.

“This is already deep enough for me,” Baekhyun muttered, dipping his head under for barely a second before popping back up, wiping his face with both hands. His eyes squeezed shut as he let out a loud, dramatic gasp. “Ah! It’s so salty!”

Chanyeol’s laugh echoed over the rolling waves, warm and amused. “It’s the ocean, Baek. What did you expect? Sugar water?”

Baekhyun pouted, still blinking furiously as if the salt had offended him personally. “I don’t know. It’s my first time.”

Chanyeol’s heart softened. He waded closer until his tall frame shadowed Baekhyun. “Come on. Let’s go a little further. It’s safe—I’ve got you.”

Before Baekhyun could protest, Chanyeol’s large hands slid around his waist, firm and sure. Baekhyun squeaked in alarm as Chanyeol effortlessly pulled him forward into deeper water. The sand disappeared beneath his feet, and panic shot up his spine.

“Chanyeol!” he yelped, clinging instinctively to the alpha. His arms wound tight around Chanyeol’s neck, and without thinking, his legs wrapped around Chanyeol’s waist. His body pressed fully against Chanyeol’s bare chest, and Baekhyun buried his face against his collarbone. “I can’t touch the ground anymore!”

“I know,” Chanyeol teased, voice low and full of laughter. “That’s why I’m holding you. But wow, Baek, you’re holding me so tight… Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to cling to me?”

Baekhyun’s face flushed hot despite the cool ocean breeze. “I–I’m not! I’m just scared, you idiot!”

Chanyeol chuckled again, but something shifted in the air. His teasing softened into something heavier when he glanced down at Baekhyun. The omega’s soaked white shirt clung to his slim frame, nearly translucent in the sunset light. His small nipples were peaked from the cool water, and Chanyeol swallowed hard, suddenly unable to look away.

Baekhyun, oblivious at first, felt the weight of Chanyeol’s stare and peeked up shyly. “W–What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Chanyeol’s lips curved slowly. “Just thinking how beautiful you look right now.”

Baekhyun’s blush deepened, and he ducked his head again, mumbling something incoherent. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like the waves could hear it.

Chanyeol adjusted his hold on Baekhyun, one hand supporting his back while the other rested just above his thigh. “Are you happy, Baek?” he asked quietly, gaze tender even with the teasing edge in his voice.

“Yes,” Baekhyun replied without hesitation, surprising even himself. He lifted his head, eyes bright despite his shy expression. “I’m… really happy.”

Chanyeol’s breath caught at the honesty in his voice. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice low and careful, giving Baekhyun an out even though his own heart was already leaning in.

Baekhyun froze for only a heartbeat before nodding, whispering, “Yes.”

And then Chanyeol closed the small distance between them. The first brush of his lips was soft, testing, but the second was deeper—hungry with all the emotion he’d been holding back. Baekhyun gasped against him, surprised, and Chanyeol used the moment to guide him gently, coaxing his mouth open with patient persistence.

Baekhyun clung tighter, legs tightening around Chanyeol’s waist as the alpha tilted his head and deepened the kiss. The taste of saltwater and something sweeter filled Baekhyun’s senses, and for a moment it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them, floating in golden light as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and amber.

When Chanyeol finally pulled back, their breaths mingled, ragged and warm. Baekhyun blinked at him, dazed and flushed.

“Not so scary anymore, is it?” Chanyeol murmured, thumb brushing over Baekhyun’s damp cheek.

Baekhyun shook his head slightly, lips tingling, heart soaring. “No. Not scary at all.”

Chapter Text

The outdoor shower sputtered to life, warm water cascading over Baekhyun’s slight frame, washing away the salt clinging to his skin and hair. Chanyeol stood close by, half-naked, a small bottle of baby soap in his hand.

“Hold still,” he murmured, squeezing some onto his palms. “Saltwater can be harsh if it dries on your skin.”

Baekhyun nodded, shivering slightly—not from the cold, but from the way Chanyeol’s large, careful hands moved in slow circles over his back where he couldn’t reach, even through the thin fabric of his damp shirt. The omega ducked his head and giggled.

“You don’t have to—” Baekhyun began.

“I want to,” Chanyeol cut him off, his voice lower than intended. He cleared his throat quickly. “I just… don’t want you breaking out in rashes. Your skin’s sensitive, and it’s your first time in salt water.”

Baekhyun pressed his lips together, heart hammering. He could feel the heat of Chanyeol’s palms beneath the cotton, every touch careful and deliberate. His alpha’s concern felt genuine, but there was an undercurrent—something heavier, charged—that made Baekhyun’s stomach flutter.

After a pause, he hesitated, then reached down to tug his wet shirt over his head. He was only thinking of washing himself properly, but Chanyeol froze mid-motion, his hands hovering uselessly in the air.

The omega’s pale skin gleamed under the soft light; droplets ran down his nape and over the curve of his collarbone. He squeezed more soap into his hands and began rubbing at his chest and neck, utterly unselfconscious—until he felt the weight of Chanyeol’s stare.

Baekhyun didn’t look at him, though his ears burned crimson. Did I do something wrong? He pretended to focus on scrubbing the salt away, but his movements slowed slightly, almost shy.

Meanwhile, Chanyeol’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. Don’t stare. Don’t. But his traitorous eyes followed every motion of Baekhyun’s soapy hands on his smooth neck, across his chest, lingering for a dangerous beat when his fingertips brushed over a hardened nipple.

He jerked his gaze away, guilt flooding him. He trusts you. Stop acting like an animal. And yet, he couldn’t deny that his reaction was instinctive—natural—for an alpha watching his omega’s body.

“I’m done,” he blurted, voice a little hoarse. He quickly stepped back, fumbling for the towel on the nearby chair. “I’ll, uh… get the robes ready. Take your time.”

Baekhyun bit his lip, sensing more than hearing the tension in Chanyeol’s tone. His omega instincts told him exactly what was going on, but he didn’t call attention to it. Instead, he rinsed off quietly, heart thudding, pretending not to notice the way his alpha lingered just a few steps away—turned mostly aside, but shoulders tight.

When Baekhyun finally stepped out, hair plastered to his forehead, Chanyeol handed him the robe without meeting his eyes. His ears were bright red.

“Thanks,” Baekhyun said softly, voice barely audible over the water’s trickle.

Chanyeol only nodded. Baekhyun pulled the robe around himself, then sat next to his alpha and shyly asked him to dry his hair.

---

That night, the house had gone quiet, only the crickets outside and the distant hum of the waves breaking the silence. Chanyeol was just about to drift off, lying shirtless in bed, when he heard a soft knock.

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun’s voice was small, almost hesitant.

Chanyeol blinked in surprise and sat up. “Baekhyun? What’s wrong?”

The door creaked open, and there he was, standing barefoot in the doorway, hugging his pillow tightly against his chest. His oversized pajamas were patterned with tiny strawberries, the sleeves nearly swallowing his hands. His hair stuck out in soft tufts, and his eyes were round and uncertain.

“I… um,” he shuffled his feet, looking more like a shy child than the omega who had endured so much. “Can I sleep here? Just tonight? My room feels too big.”

Chanyeol’s chest tightened at the sight. He looks like a lost puppy. He opened his mouth to answer but stopped when Baekhyun’s eyes flicked down for the briefest second, lingering on his bare chest and the lean lines of his torso. The omega’s ears flushed pink, and Chanyeol suddenly became aware of the heat creeping up his own neck.

Get a grip, Park Chanyeol. He’s your husband, but he’s innocent. Stop noticing how soft he looks… how much you want to hold him.

“Wait here,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair before grabbing a loose t-shirt from the chair. Once he pulled it on, he turned back. “Alright. Come in.”

Baekhyun’s face lit up like someone had handed him the moon. He padded in, clutching his pillow, and climbed onto the bed. The mattress dipped under his small weight as he immediately curled up near Chanyeol’s side, tucking himself under the alpha’s arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The scent of strawberries filled the air, mingling with Chanyeol’s deeper, woodsy pheromones. Baekhyun took a small breath and visibly relaxed, his lashes fluttering shut for a moment as if savoring the calm that Chanyeol’s presence brought.

“You’re really comfortable,” Baekhyun mumbled, voice muffled against Chanyeol’s chest.

Chanyeol swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the warmth pressed against him. His arm curled around Baekhyun instinctively, and to his dismay, the omega nuzzled closer with a soft, sleepy hum.

After a few beats of silence, Chanyeol cleared his throat. “Hey… do you want to go fishing tomorrow? I know a spot nearby. I used to go there with my grandfather.”

Baekhyun’s head lifted instantly, eyes shining. “Fishing? Really?!” He beamed, looking more awake than ever. “I’ve never tried it! Will you teach me?”

Chanyeol found himself smiling despite his racing heart. “Yeah. I’ll teach you.”

Baekhyun’s grin widened, and with a happy sigh, he nestled back into him, already halfway to sleep. Chanyeol stared at the ceiling for a long while, his hand absently tracing soothing circles on Baekhyun’s back.

But the longer he lay there, the harder it was to ignore the way Baekhyun’s body fit so perfectly against his, the way his trust felt both grounding and dangerous. His chest tightened with an ache he tried to suppress. He bit his lower lip, scolding himself silently. Don’t. Don’t ruin this. He deserves gentleness, safety… not your hunger.

As if sensing the storm in him, Baekhyun shifted slightly, tilting his head back to look at him. His sleepy eyes met Chanyeol’s, then—slowly—drifted down to his lips. Chanyeol froze, realizing too late that he was biting them, trying to keep himself under control.

For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then Baekhyun leaned up, acting on instinct more than thought, and brushed his lips against Chanyeol’s.

The alpha’s restraint shattered.

His arms wrapped around Baekhyun’s small waist, pulling him close as his lips moved hungrily, desperately, against the omega’s. Baekhyun responded shyly at first, then melted, letting Chanyeol take more, give more, until Baekhyun’s lips turned flushed and swollen. It was clumsy and innocent on Baekhyun’s part, but Chanyeol guided him gently, reverently.

Chanyeol only stopped when Baekhyun’s eyelids fluttered, heavy with sleep. He stilled, realizing Baekhyun had gone limp in his arms, too drowsy to keep kissing. He eased him down gently, brushing his thumb over Baekhyun’s cheek, watching the omega’s kiss-bruised lips and lashes rest on flushed skin.

He pressed his forehead against Baekhyun’s hair, inhaling the sweet strawberry scent.

“I love you, Baekhyun-ah,” he whispered hoarsely into the quiet night.

---

The morning breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean as the sun began to rise over Jeju’s quiet harbor. The water shimmered under the pastel sky, and Baekhyun’s wide eyes reflected every bit of it. He stood awkwardly on the small wooden pier, fishing rod in hand, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Like this?” he asked, glancing up at Chanyeol, who stood behind him.

Chanyeol smiled, adjusting Baekhyun’s grip. “You’re holding it too tightly, love. Relax your wrist—let the rod do the work for you. And when you feel a tug, you pull gently, not all at once.”

Baekhyun nodded, brows furrowed in concentration. Chanyeol stayed close, his chest almost brushing Baekhyun’s back, guiding his movements with patient hands. The omega had never done anything like this before—his life had been so sheltered that every little experience felt new, and Chanyeol wanted him to have it all.

They cast the line together, and Baekhyun let out a soft gasp as the bait hit the water with a small splash. Minutes passed, Baekhyun biting his lip nervously every time the line wavered.

“Do you think I’ll catch anything?” he asked softly, half-afraid of failing.

Chanyeol chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Baekhyun’s ear. “You will. Fish like you—they can sense how sweet you are.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “That’s not how it works, Yeol.”

“Maybe not for others,” Chanyeol teased, “but you’re different.”

Then suddenly, Baekhyun felt it—a sharp tug on the line. His eyes widened. “I—I think something’s there! What do I do?”

Chanyeol’s hands moved over his, steadying him. “Okay, don’t panic. Just reel it in slowly, steady. That’s it, you’ve got this, Baek.”

Baekhyun reeled, his small hands clumsy but determined. When the fish finally broke the surface, shimmering silver in the sunlight, Baekhyun squealed in delight. “I did it! I caught one! Yeol, I really did it!”

Chanyeol’s heart swelled at the sight of him—Baekhyun’s cheeks flushed, eyes bright, holding his modest little fish with both hands like it was a treasure.

“You’re amazing,” Chanyeol said, pulling out his phone. “Hold it up—I need a picture of this.”

Baekhyun posed proudly, the fish wriggling in his hands, his grin so wide it made Chanyeol’s chest ache. He snapped several pictures, laughing softly.

“Yours is going to be bigger than mine anyway,” Baekhyun teased as Chanyeol cast his own line.

Minutes later, Chanyeol reeled in a fish almost twice the size of Baekhyun’s.

“See? I told you,” Baekhyun pouted, but his smile didn’t falter. “Still, mine is special. It’s my first.”

Chanyeol ruffled his hair affectionately. “And that’s why I’ll frame your photo. You should be proud, Baek.”

Baekhyun looked up at him with sparkling eyes, and in that moment, Chanyeol swore he’d never forget the sight. It wasn’t about the fish—it was about Baekhyun living, laughing, and finally experiencing life the way he should have been allowed to all along.

They sat side by side on the pier afterward, feet dangling over the edge, Baekhyun still grinning as he cradled his “precious catch.” Chanyeol slipped his arm around him, pulling him close, pressing a soft kiss to his hair.

“Next time,” Chanyeol murmured against the crown of his head, “we’ll try night fishing. Maybe you’ll catch an even bigger one.”

Baekhyun giggled, leaning into his warmth. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t care how big the fish is.”

Chanyeol’s heart ached, full of love and longing, as the waves lapped gently below them.

---

The late afternoon sun painted the horizon in shades of gold as Chanyeol and Baekhyun made their way down the sandy path to a small beachside restaurant. The salty breeze carried the scent of grilled seafood and spices, making Baekhyun’s stomach growl. He clutched the small paper bag with their freshly caught fish like it was a trophy.

“Smells so good,” Baekhyun said softly, eyes sparkling as he took in the open-air tables and string lights swaying overhead. “Do you think they’ll know how to cook our fish like the locals do?”

Chanyeol smiled down at him. “Probably even better than I can. But tomorrow, we’ll try cooking one ourselves, okay? I’ll teach you.”

Baekhyun beamed at the promise, but as they approached the entrance, his attention snagged on a small crowd near the deck. Several cameras and light stands were set up, with people bustling around.

“Yeol, what’s going on there?” Baekhyun whispered curiously, tugging at Chanyeol’s sleeve.

Chanyeol glanced over. “Looks like they’re filming something. Maybe a drama or a movie. Jeju’s a popular place for that.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened. “Like the ones we watched on TV? Does that mean there are real actors here?”

“Probably,” Chanyeol chuckled, ruffling his hair. “We might even spot someone famous if you keep staring like that.”

Baekhyun flushed and ducked his head shyly, following Chanyeol to their table on the patio with a perfect view of the sea. They ordered grilled squid and some side dishes, Baekhyun humming happily when the food arrived.

Between bites, Baekhyun kept glancing out at the filming crew. “I wonder what the story is about,” he mused. “Do you think the actor gets the girl in the end?”

Chanyeol smirked. “Maybe. But right now, the actor in my life already has his omega.” He said it teasingly, making Baekhyun’s ears turn red.

They laughed and talked about how they’d season their own fish tomorrow—Baekhyun insisting he’d try making it spicy, Chanyeol teasing that he might burn his tongue. The moment was warm and light, exactly the kind of life Baekhyun had never been allowed before.

Halfway through the meal, Baekhyun looked up shyly. “Yeol… I need to go to the restroom.”

Chanyeol immediately put down his chopsticks. “Want me to come with you?”

Baekhyun shook his head. “It’s okay. The restaurant isn’t crowded. I can go alone.” He gave a small reassuring smile before slipping inside.

---

Inside the restroom, the hum of conversation from the restaurant faded. Baekhyun washed his hands after using the cubicle, humming softly to himself.

As he dried his hands with tissue, a tall man stood at the mirror, fixing his hair. His features were sharp and striking—the kind of handsome that belonged on TV. When his eyes met Baekhyun’s in the mirror, they widened in surprise.

“Babe!” the man exclaimed suddenly, spinning around. Before Baekhyun could react, strong hands gripped his waist, pulling him close.

“I missed you! Why didn’t you answer my calls for two weeks?” His voice was low and intense, and before Baekhyun could even open his mouth to explain, the man wrapped him in a tight embrace.

Baekhyun’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. What’s happening? Who is this? The stranger’s scent—alpha, sharp and unfamiliar—overwhelmed him. Panic clawed up his throat. His hands trembled against the man’s chest, trying to push him back.

From outside, a voice called through the door, “Minjae! Filming resumes in three minutes!”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened. Minjae? Filming?.. He was confused, but before he could find his voice, Minjae pulled back just enough to look into his face, his smile confident and warm—as if they were lovers.

“I’ll see you after the shoot, okay? I missed you too much.”

And then his lips crashed onto Baekhyun’s.

It was too sudden. Too much. The alpha’s kiss was hungry, uninvited. Baekhyun’s eyes watered as fear gripped him. His mind blanked, body frozen in terror. He pushed weakly at Minjae’s chest, but the man was too strong, too close. His chest burned with helplessness.

Another voice shouted from outside, “One minute, Minjae!”

Reluctantly, Minjae broke the kiss, cupping Baekhyun’s face. “See you later, babe,” he said with a wink, completely oblivious to Baekhyun’s panic, and hurried out.

The restroom door shut behind him, leaving only silence.

Baekhyun slid to the floor, curling up as sobs broke free. His chest heaved, tears streaming as the unwanted touch and overpowering scent sent his anxiety spiraling. He hugged his knees, whispering brokenly, “Chan… Chanyeol…”

His trembling hands fumbled for his phone and dialed Chanyeol’s number, just as his alpha had taught him. He needed Chanyeol—the only person who ever made him feel safe.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol didn’t ask questions. Not when he found Baekhyun trembling and pale in the bathroom, not when he pulled him close and felt the way his whole body shook against his chest. Questions could wait—what mattered now was getting him out of there. To make him feel safe.

He guided Baekhyun through the back exit, shielding him with his arm as they stepped outside. The air was sharp, but it wasn’t the cold that made Baekhyun shiver. Chanyeol caught the way his omega stiffened when his gaze swept across the small crowd of staff and crew still lingering outside the restaurant. Among them, the familiar profile of Minjae—one of the country’s most celebrated actors—stood out like a bright flame in the dark. Chanyeol’s jaw tightened, but he kept his pace steady, tightening his hold around Baekhyun until they reached the car.

By the time they arrived home, Baekhyun had drifted into an uneasy sleep. Chanyeol carried him carefully inside, the weight in his arms both light and unbearably fragile. He tucked Baekhyun into bed, brushing the damp hair from his forehead. That’s when he saw it—faint, but unmistakable. Baekhyun’s busted lower lip. His stomach twisted. He knew he wasn’t the cause of that mark, he has been always careful knowing that the omega is fragile. Rage simmered low in his chest, hot and dangerous. But he swallowed it down. Now wasn’t the time. He needed to wait until Baekhyun could tell him himself.

When Baekhyun finally stirred, blinking awake with the softness of someone not quite ready to face the world, Chanyeol was already sitting by the bedside.

“You in pain?” Chanyeol asked gently.

Baekhyun only shook his head. Silence stretched between them until Chanyeol finally leaned forward, voice low, steady. “Can you tell me what happened in the bathroom?”

Baekhyun froze, shoulders stiffening as his lips pressed together. He looked so small, so afraid. Chanyeol reached for his hand, wrapping it firmly in his own.

“Hey,” he murmured, thumb stroking over Baekhyun’s knuckles. “I’m not going to get mad at you. I just… I need to know, Baekhyun. So I can protect you. Whatever it is, I’ll handle it. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Baekhyun’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, hesitating. Finally, in a whisper that sounded almost ashamed, he said, “A guy… kissed me. And… he called me babe.”

Chanyeol’s blood roared in his ears. He wanted to break something, to storm back out and tear the bastard apart. But he kept his expression calm, not letting the storm inside show on his face. Baekhyun didn’t need fury right now—he needed safety.

“Do you know who it was?” he asked carefully, his tone even despite the weight pressing against his chest.

Baekhyun hesitated again before finally murmuring, “Minjae.”

The name hit Chanyeol like a gunshot. His mind immediately spun, threads connecting, unraveling, and then snapping into place. Minjae. The famous actor. The same company with Baekjin.

"I'm sorry.." Baekhyun’s fingers twisted into the fabric of Chanyeol’s sleeve, his voice trembling as he whispered, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry someone kissed me.” His eyes glistened, guilt pooling in them even though his lips still shook from fear and confusion.

Chanyeol’s chest tightened, but he reached up to cup Baekhyun’s cheek, forcing him to look at him. “Baekhyun,” he said firmly, his tone soft but steady. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you hear me? None of that is your fault.”

The omega’s breath hitched, tears spilling over as he pressed his face into Chanyeol’s chest. “But—”

“No.” Chanyeol’s arms wrapped around him tightly, almost as if to shield him from everything. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll fix everything. You don’t need to carry this guilt, Baekhyun. Not ever.”

Baekhyun only sobbed harder, clutching him like a lifeline, and Chanyeol held on even tighter, silently promising himself that he meant every word.

When Baekhyun finally calmed down, he stayed nestled in Chanyeol’s arms, the alpha’s steady heartbeat grounding him. His voice came out soft, almost hesitant, when he asked, “Chanyeol… who is Minjae?”

Chanyeol stiffened slightly but kept his tone even. “He’s just an actor.”

Baekhyun frowned. “Then why did he call me… babe?” The word felt foreign on his tongue, strange and unwelcome.

Chanyeol’s jaw tightened, but he smoothed a hand down Baekhyun’s back. “Maybe he mistook you for someone else,” he said simply, though inside he already knew the truth. He wasn’t about to drag Baekhyun into Baekjin’s mess.

Baekhyun went quiet, his thoughts spinning. “Maybe… he thought I was Baekjin,” he whispered at last, and the sadness in his tone pierced straight through Chanyeol. “No matter what I do, people will still see me as him. I wanted to be different. I wanted to be just… me.”

Chanyeol cupped his cheek firmly, forcing Baekhyun to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else sees. To me, you’re Baekhyun. You’re the one I love—for who you are.”

The words loosened the ache in Baekhyun’s chest. He curled tighter into Chanyeol’s warmth, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Silence stretched between them, heavy but comforting, until Baekhyun’s voice broke through again, small yet trembling with courage.

“Chanyeol…” He hesitated, then breathed out, “What if you mark me?”

Chanyeol froze. His breath caught, eyes widening as his hand stilled against Baekhyun’s back. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the omega in shock, heart hammering at the sudden weight of the words.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol sat on the edge of the bed, hands braced on his knees like he was carrying something unbearably heavy. His gaze flicked to Baekhyun, then away again, throat working before he finally spoke.

“Baek… do you even know what it means? A mark isn’t just a scar on your skin. It ties us together—forever. No matter what happens, we’d belong to each other.”

Baekhyun’s hands tightened in his lap, but he didn’t look away. “That’s what I want.”

Chanyeol exhaled, shaking his head. “It’s not that simple. A mark isn’t just a bite… it’s more. I’d have to be inside you when I do it. That’s how bonds are made. It’s physical, but it’s also your soul, Baek. I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want to take something from you before you’re ready.”

Baekhyun’s lashes lowered, his voice quiet but steady. “I know about the pain. My teacher told me. But Yeol… you’re my husband. I want this.”

The words cut through Chanyeol’s chest like a blade. He leaned forward, gripping the sheets. “You don’t understand. It’s not only pain, Baek. There’s pleasure too. Overwhelming, uncontrollable pleasure. You’ve never—” His voice broke off, heat crawling up his neck. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, I don't want to break your innocence like this. You don’t know how it feels, you don't even feel it during your heat.”

Baekhyun tilted his head, innocence and determination warring in his eyes. “I don’t care. As long as it’s you, I’m not afraid. I just want you to mate me. You are the only one I want and I'm scared...that this is temporary.”

Something inside Chanyeol cracked. He pushed himself up and crossed the small space between them, gathering Baekhyun into his arms. His hold was tight, almost desperate, and he buried his face against Baekhyun’s hair, breathing in the strawberry-sweet scent.

“God, Baek…” he whispered, pressing a trembling kiss to the top of his head. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

Baekhyun was quiet for a long moment, curled against him, until his small voice slipped out—hesitant, uncertain.
“...Maybe you don’t want to mark me.”

Chanyeol’s entire body tensed. He pulled back just enough to see Baekhyun’s face, eyes wide with disbelief.
“No. Baekhyun, don’t ever think that. I want to—so much it hurts. You don’t know how badly I want to make you mine that way.” His voice cracked, desperate to make him understand. “I’m just worried. Worried about hurting you. Worried about rushing you. I want to spoil you first, I want you to enjoy your life, I want to give you everything.”

Baekhyun blinked up at him, lips parted, his innocence piercing straight through Chanyeol’s chest. "I can still do that even after were mated, right? And... maybe I will be less scared if I have your mark." His voice is small but he never give up.

The alpha exhaled slowly, finally surrendering. His thumb brushed Baekhyun’s damp lashes as he whispered, “Okay… we’ll do it. I’ll mark you.”

Baekhyun’s eyes lit with relief, his hand gripping Chanyeol’s shirt.

“But,” Chanyeol added gently, firm yet tender, “not tonight. We’ll plan it—when you’re ready, when it’s right. Because you deserve more than something rushed or messy. I want it to be perfect for you.”

Baekhyun nodded against him, a small smile tugging at his lips, as though the promise alone was enough to soothe him. Content, he burrowed back into Chanyeol’s chest, and the alpha held him tighter, his heart pounding with both fear and longing.

---

The next morning, Jeju greeted them with soft sunshine and a gentle breeze. Chanyeol had something planned, and Baekhyun found himself standing in front of a horse—wide-eyed, palms clammy, and lips pressed in a thin line.

It was Baekhyun’s first time ever seeing a horse, and the omega was practically glowing with awe—yet there was a tightness in his expression, a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The horse snorted and shifted its weight, and Baekhyun immediately stepped back, clutching at Chanyeol’s sleeve. Scared.

“Don’t worry,” Chanyeol chuckled, his deep voice steady and calm. “She won’t hurt you. Come on, I’ll show you.”

With patience, he guided Baekhyun’s hand to gently touch the horse’s mane, talking him through each step until the trembling in Baekhyun’s fingers eased into curiosity. When it came time to mount, Chanyeol held his waist firmly, lifting him with ease until Baekhyun was seated awkwardly on the saddle.

“See? Not so scary,” Chanyeol teased, climbing up behind him. His arms stretched around Baekhyun, hands taking the reins, his chest a warm, solid wall at Baekhyun’s back.

The horse started moving at a slow trot, Baekhyun stiff as a board at first. But when Chanyeol urged the horse into a faster pace, Baekhyun panicked, bending forward to cling desperately to the horse’s neck.

“Yah, Baek, you look ridiculous like that, why are you back hugging the horse like that..” Chanyeol laughed, though his voice was fond, his arms still steadying them both.

“I don’t care! Just—don’t let it run too fast!” Baekhyun cried, his voice muffled against the horse’s mane, refusing to let go.

When Chanyeol finally slowed the horse, he tugged Baekhyun gently back into his chest, wrapping one arm tight around his waist. But Baekhyun still refused to loosen his death-grip, cheeks flushed red from both embarrassment and nerves.

From behind, Chanyeol’s gaze faltered. The way Baekhyun’s back arched as he leaned forward earlier, the curve of his small body pressed against the saddle—it had stirred something dangerous in him, something raw and possessive. His eyes darkened for a fleeting second, instincts rising fast.

But Chanyeol forced himself to exhale, pressing Baekhyun closer to him, burying those thoughts as quickly as they came. With a soft nudge, he guided the horse back at a calmer pace, acting as if nothing had stormed through his mind moments ago.

Baekhyun, oblivious, was still sulking into the horse’s mane, muttering, “I hate this, but maybe… it’s not so bad.”

Chanyeol only smiled, pressing a kiss against Baekhyun’s hair when he thought the omega wouldn’t notice.

---

Chanyeol drove Baekhyun into town after the horse-riding activity, refusing to answer when the omega kept asking where they were headed. When they finally stopped in front of a small clinic tucked between cafés, Baekhyun frowned in confusion.

“Why are we here?” he asked softly, tugging on Chanyeol’s sleeve as they walked in.

“For a check-up,” Chanyeol replied, tone calm but firm. “I just want to make sure… that you’re healthy enough. That you’re in the right condition for mating.”

Baekhyun froze on the spot, eyes widening. His heart skipped a beat—not because he was against it, but because the word itself stirred up memories he had buried. Painful ones.

Inside, the female doctor greeted them warmly. She was gentle, her smile reassuring in a way Baekhyun didn’t expect. Chanyeol stayed by his side, answering questions about Baekhyun’s medical history, carefully explaining the omega’s painful past and the traumas he had endured. His voice softened, protective, as if he was laying Baekhyun’s scars bare but cradling them at the same time.

The doctor nodded as she took notes, then turned her full attention to Baekhyun. “Alright, Baekhyun. I’d like to ask you a few questions, and I want you to answer honestly. This isn’t about anyone else—only you.”

Baekhyun shifted nervously but gave a small nod.

“First,” the doctor asked, “do you feel safe in your current relationship? Do you trust your husband?”

Baekhyun glanced at Chanyeol instinctively, then back at the doctor. “Yes… I do. He makes me feel safe.”

“Good,” she said softly. “Now, about marking. Do you understand what it means? That it’s not just physical, but an emotional and lifelong bond?”

Baekhyun’s hands tightened on his lap. “Yes. I know...”

The doctor tilted her head gently. “And is this something you truly want for yourself, or do you feel pressured—whether by him, or by what’s expected of you?”

Baekhyun shook his head firmly this time. “It’s what I want. I just want… Chanyeol.” His voice cracked, but his eyes shone with sincerity.

The doctor studied him for a moment, then continued carefully. “Have you experienced any distressing thoughts, flashbacks, or fears when the idea of intimacy comes up? Anything that makes you feel like you’re not ready?”

Baekhyun’s lips trembled. He hesitated, then shook his head. “I used to… but with Chanyeol, it’s different. I’m not afraid anymore.”

Chanyeol’s throat worked, his hand curling into a fist on his thigh.

The doctor softened her tone further. “Do you feel prepared for the physical side of it? It can involve pain at first, but also strong emotions, even overwhelming pleasure. Do you feel ready for that step?”

Baekhyun swallowed hard, then whispered, “I’m ready. As long as it’s him, I’m not afraid.”

The doctor gave a faint smile, then turned to Chanyeol. “And you—do you want this bond as much as he does?”

Chanyeol’s chest tightened. “Yes,” he admitted quietly. “But I don’t want him to regret it. That’s what scares me.”

The doctor closed her notes gently. “From everything I see here… you’re both making this decision with clear minds and honest hearts. Baekhyun, you are physically and emotionally in a stable condition to be mated.”

Chanyeol let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, shoulders relaxing. Baekhyun, on the other hand, sat there with cheeks pink, heart racing—not from fear, but from the weight of what that confirmation meant for their future.

The check-up ended sooner than Baekhyun expected, with nothing invasive done—just questions, answers, and quiet reassurances. Still, his heart raced in his chest, his fingers nervously twisting at the hem of his shirt.

When the doctor finally stood and began arranging the papers, Chanyeol moved to help Baekhyun up. But before they could leave, the doctor cleared his throat.

“Alpha,” he addressed, his voice calm yet serious. Chanyeol stiffened instantly, turning to him with wide eyes. The older woman offered him a kind smile, but it carried a weight. “I can see you’re nervous. That’s not a bad thing—it shows you care about your omega’s safety.”

Chanyeol swallowed hard, his arm instinctively wrapping around Baekhyun’s shoulders. Baekhyun looked up at him curiously, cheeks flushed, but said nothing.

“You’ll have to guide him slowly,” the doctor continued. “Claiming isn’t just an act of instinct—it’s an exchange of trust. There will be pain at first, no matter how gentle you are. You must be patient and show him that pleasure will follow after the pain. He needs to feel safe in your hands.”

Baekhyun lowered his gaze, no understanding what the doctor said to his husband, but his small fingers tightened around Chanyeol’s wrist as though to say he wanted this reassurance too.

Chanyeol’s throat bobbed as he whispered, almost to himself, “I… I don’t want to hurt him.”

The doctor nodded knowingly. “That’s exactly why you’ll be the right one to do it. Remember—introduce him slowly. Pain, yes, but not without comfort. Guide him through it until his body learns to trust you. That’s how he’ll feel pleasure from you, and only you.”

Baekhyun bit his lip, his ears red, and pressed closer into Chanyeol’s side. The alpha’s heart thumped wildly in his chest, torn between fear and an overwhelming desire to protect the fragile omega in his arms.

“Thank you, doctor,” Chanyeol finally managed, bowing his head slightly. His hand instinctively tightened around Baekhyun’s shoulder, protective, promising. “I’ll… I’ll make sure I do it right.”

With that, the doctor let them go, leaving both of them flustered but with the weight of something much bigger lingering between them.

---

The restaurant was warm and softly lit, the golden glow from the chandeliers bouncing off the polished wooden tables. Chanyeol sat across from Baekhyun, and for the first time in days, he felt a little lighter. The omega had been smiling since the meal began, his cheeks pink and his eyes bright, and Chanyeol silently thanked the universe that Baekhyun didn’t bring up Minjae’s unwanted kiss again.

When their dinner plates were cleared, Chanyeol reached under the table and pulled out a small bouquet of fresh flowers, wrapped neatly in soft paper, and two boxes of chocolates tied with ribbon.

Baekhyun blinked, startled, before his lips stretched into the widest grin. “For me?” he gasped, clutching the flowers like they were priceless jewels. He smelled them, nose scrunching cutely, before setting them down carefully beside him.

Then he turned to the chocolates, untying the ribbon with careful fingers. “Chanyeol, these are expensive,” he whispered, almost guilty.

“Nothing’s too expensive for you,” Chanyeol answered smoothly, leaning on his elbow as he watched Baekhyun wondering where Baekhyun learn the word 'expensive' since he never touch money before. Chanyeol only given him a black card but he also never use it once since they are always together and as an alpha Chanyeol knew he is a provider.

Baekhyun giggled as he opened the box and picked one piece, popping it into his mouth. His eyes widened, and he made a small, muffled sound of delight. “It’s so good!” he exclaimed, almost bouncing in his chair. He immediately grabbed another, offering it to Chanyeol like a child eager to share.

Chanyeol let him feed it to him, lips brushing Baekhyun’s fingers on purpose. The omega flushed but pretended not to notice, too caught up in his joy.

“You really like it that much?” Chanyeol teased, lips quirking.

“Yes! It’s so sweet and creamy..” Baekhyun said between bites. Then, suddenly, he paused, a soft, faraway smile crossing his face. “Do you remember… when we were little? You gave me chocolate once. Just a small piece.”

Chanyeol stilled, remembering vaguely but feeling his chest ache at how Baekhyun looked.

“For me,” Baekhyun continued, “that was the best gift I ever received as a child. I never forgot it.” His voice was quiet, touched with sincerity even if this is not the first time he recall that memory of Chanyeol.

Chanyeol’s throat tightened, and he reached across the table to take Baekhyun’s hand. “Then let me promise you something,” he said firmly, his deep voice low and warm. “From now on, you’ll always have the best. Not just chocolate, not just flowers… everything. The best of everything, Baekhyun. You deserve it.”

Baekhyun’s eyes shone, and for a moment, "Thank you Chanyeol.." Chanyeol could see the fragile heart inside the man he loved—so easily broken, yet still capable of lighting up the world when he smiled.

Chapter Text

The movie playing on the TV had Baekhyun’s eyes wide and sparkling with curiosity. He burst out laughing at one scene, then immediately tilted his head, brows furrowing.

“Wait—why did she slap him after that? He was just trying to help!” he asked, confusion making his voice rise in innocence.

Chanyeol threw his head back, laughing so hard his shoulders shook. “Baek, that’s not helping! He was flirting with her—really badly, I might add.”

Baekhyun blinked at him, cheeks puffing out in thought. “Flirting? That’s flirting? It just looked weird.”

Chanyeol grinned, eyes crinkling. “That’s because you’re too pure to get it?”

Baekhyun huffed, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it at Chanyeol’s mouth to shut him up. But Chanyeol only laughed harder, and in his attempt to dodge, the bowl tilted and half of the popcorn spilled onto the couch and the floor.

“Yaah, look what you did!” Baekhyun squeaked, scrambling to save what was left.

“What *I* did? You’re the one who attacked me with popcorn!” Chanyeol shot back, laughing even harder as they both reached for the runaway kernels. Their fingers brushed, sending Baekhyun into a flustered pout while Chanyeol just grinned wider.

Soon enough, they gave up, leaving the rest of the mess for later. They plopped back onto the couch, still laughing breathlessly, and Baekhyun shoved the bowl back onto Chanyeol’s lap with a mock glare.

“You’re impossible,” Baekhyun muttered, though his lips were fighting a smile.

“And you’re cute when you’re mad,” Chanyeol teased, making Baekhyun swat at his arm.

They bickered softly as they both bent to clean the mess, brushing hands and exchanging smiles before giving up and leaving the rest for later. The cozy warmth of the moment lingered as they finally turned off the TV and retreated toward Chanyeol’s bedroom.

Together, they brushed their teeth side by side, bumping shoulders and making faces in the mirror. Baekhyun lingered a little longer with his skincare routine, carefully patting his cheeks while humming. That’s when Chanyeol stepped behind him, arms sliding gently around his waist.

Baekhyun blinked at the sudden warmth of a backhug, catching Chanyeol’s reflection in the mirror. The alpha bent to press a slow kiss against his neck, nose brushing against the spot that smelled sweetest.

“You smell like strawberries,” Chanyeol murmured with a smile, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin.

Baekhyun squirmed and let out a soft giggle, turning red. “That tickles…”

But Chanyeol didn’t pull away. He kissed a little lower, savoring the way Baekhyun’s laughter faltered into something shy, and whispered against his ear, "Are you tired or sleepy?"

"No." Baekhyun shook his head at the mirror.

“Do you want us to… do it tonight?”

Baekhyun froze, the question hitting him like a sudden rush of heat. His heart hammered in his chest, torn between nerves and an unfamiliar spark of excitement. His alpha wants him. He swallowed, lips parting wordlessly before he finally gave a small nod.

Chanyeol pressed a reassuring kiss to his temple. “Only if you’re sure.”

“I… I want to,” Baekhyun whispered, voice trembling.

That was enough. Chanyeol turned him gently, tilting his chin up and capturing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. Baekhyun clung to him, unsure and shaky, but the warmth of Chanyeol’s mouth against his made it easier. They kissed again, deeper this time, until Baekhyun was breathless and pliant in his arms.

Without breaking the kiss, Chanyeol guided him toward the bed, easing him down carefully onto the mattress. “Relax for me,” he murmured, brushing the hair from Baekhyun’s face.

Baekhyun nodded, his chest rising and falling quickly, hands clutching at the sheets. His nerves were written all over him, but so was trust.

Chanyeol smiled faintly, pressing kisses down his throat, letting Baekhyun feel every moment rather than rushing. He undressed the omega slowly, pausing whenever Baekhyun tensed, whispering soft praises—how beautiful he was, how good he smelled, how much he wanted him. Each word seemed to ease the stiffness in Baekhyun’s body, leaving him flushed and shy but no longer trembling.

“Just focus on me,” Chanyeol whispered, his voice low and steady. “I’ll take care of you.”

Baekhyun met his gaze, wide-eyed, and finally exhaled a small sound of surrender. His hands reached up, fingers brushing Chanyeol’s cheek.

“Okay,” he breathed.

The rest unfolded in slow, tender waves—every kiss deliberate, every touch gentle, as though Chanyeol wanted to prove with his body what words alone could never say.

Chanyeol’s hands trembled slightly as he shifted closer, his palm brushing along Baekhyun’s bare hip. The omega flinched at the touch, not in rejection but from the sensitivity sparking across his skin. Chanyeol froze instantly, pulling back just enough to search his face.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked softly, voice steady despite the nerves twisting inside him. His thumb rubbed soothing circles against Baekhyun’s thigh, waiting patiently.

Baekhyun’s lips parted, his chest rising with uneven breaths. For a moment, he looked uncertain, but then he gave a small nod, whispering, “Y-Yes…”

Relief washed through Chanyeol, and he leaned down, capturing his lips again in a kiss—slow, steady, reassuring. Their mouths moved together gently before he let his lips wander, tracing along Baekhyun’s jaw, then down to his throat. He kissed carefully at the soft skin there, breathing in the strawberry sweetness that was uniquely Baekhyun.

When his hand slid higher, brushing over Baekhyun’s chest, a sound broke free from the omega’s lips. A moan—soft, startled, utterly unguarded.

Both of them froze.

Chanyeol pulled back, eyes wide, while Baekhyun’s face flooded crimson. “I—I didn’t mean—” he stammered, immediately trying to cover his face with his hands.

But Chanyeol caught them, gently prying his hands away. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice warm and calm. “Don’t hide from me. It’s normal, Baekhyun. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Baekhyun’s lashes fluttered, his embarrassment painted across his face. But Chanyeol’s gaze held only tenderness, and slowly, the tension in his body eased.

“Do you want to keep going?” Chanyeol asked, giving him the choice, his eyes locked on Baekhyun’s.

Baekhyun hesitated only a moment before nodding shyly. “…Yes.”

Chanyeol smiled, brushing a kiss over his lips again, softer this time. “Good. Then we’ll go slow.”

Chanyeol’s hand slid lower, fingers trembling slightly until he stopped at the omega’s most vulnerable spot. His touch was light, hesitant, but even then Baekhyun gasped in surprise, his body tensing.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Baek,” Chanyeol murmured softly, his voice low and coaxing. He pressed a gentle kiss to Baekhyun’s temple, whispering reassurance. “It’s just my finger. I need to prep you, so it won’t hurt later.”

Baekhyun looked unsure, his lips parting as if to say something, but instead he leaned forward to capture Chanyeol’s mouth in a kiss—an unspoken permission, his way of saying he trusted him.

Taking that as his answer, Chanyeol carefully eased his index finger inside. Baekhyun stiffened instantly, the sting making him suck in a sharp breath. He swallowed the moan that threatened to escape, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

His eyes turned glassy, meeting Chanyeol’s as if silently asking for comfort.

“You’re doing great,” Chanyeol whispered, brushing his thumb soothingly along Baekhyun’s thigh while pressing tender kisses down the omega’s cheek. “I know it feels strange… but this step is important. I don’t want to hurt you.”

For a moment, he stilled, giving Baekhyun the choice. “We can stop here, Baek. If it’s too much, just tell me.”

But Baekhyun shook his head quickly, determination flickering in his expression even as he trembled. “N-no… I want to continue,” he said softly, voice almost breaking but filled with resolve.

Chanyeol’s chest ached with affection at those words. He nodded, kissing him again—slow, patient—before moving carefully, his only focus being Baekhyun’s comfort.

Chanyeol moved his finger slowly, every shift careful, his eyes never leaving Baekhyun’s face. The omega clung tightly to his arm, nails pressing against his skin, his brows knitted in discomfort. Chanyeol didn’t even notice his own growing need—he was too focused on Baekhyun, terrified of making a single mistake that could hurt him or leave a scar he’d never forgive himself for.

When a faint slick finally coated his finger, he felt the difference instantly. Baekhyun’s expression changed—his mouth falling open, a shaky moan slipping past his lips. The tight grip on Chanyeol’s arm loosened, until Baekhyun finally let go, arms falling back against the pillow on either side of his head. His body shuddered, not from pain this time, but from the unfamiliar sensation of slowly responding.

The sight made Chanyeol’s breath catch. His chest tightened, and only then did he realize the ache of his own arousal pressing hard against his clothes. The image of Baekhyun beneath him, lips parted and chest rising unevenly, nearly drove him mad with want—but he pushed it down, clinging to control. This was about Baekhyun. Always Baekhyun.

When he slipped in a second finger, Baekhyun bit down on his lower lip, his body tensing all over again. He was still so tight, his muscles resisting even as they yielded bit by bit.

“Relax, Baek,” Chanyeol coaxed, pressing tender kisses against his forehead. His voice was calm, low, a steady anchor. “How do you feel?”

Baekhyun’s chest rose and fell rapidly before he managed a shaky whisper. “It… it feels strange. Not bad, but… heavy. I can feel it stretching.”

Chanyeol nodded, brushing his thumb gently along Baekhyun’s side. “That’s good. That means your body is accepting me… but it’s not pleasure yet. Not yet.” His gaze softened, filled with patience. “We’ll take our time. I’ll wait with you until you’re ready.”

Chanyeol leaned down, capturing Baekhyun’s lips in a slow, distracting kiss. The omega whimpered softly against him, too caught up in the press of his mouth to notice Chanyeol slipped in a third finger, his movements gentle but firmer this time.

Baekhyun gasped against his lips, his body jerking slightly—but Chanyeol kept kissing him, murmuring soothing words in between. He watched closely, waiting for any sign of pain, but instead he saw Baekhyun’s face twist in something different, his lips parting around a loud, unrestrained moan.

The sound shot straight through Chanyeol, but he forced himself to stay calm.

“Chanyeol… wh-what is this?” Baekhyun panted, eyes wide and glassy, his body arching unconsciously against the movement of his fingers.

Chanyeol brushed his nose against Baekhyun’s cheek, whispering against his skin. “That’s pleasure, Baek. That’s what it’s supposed to feel like. It’s good, isn’t it?”

Another helpless moan tore from Baekhyun’s throat, his hands gripping the sheets beside him as if he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Chanyeol’s heart swelled at the sight—the way his innocent omega was slowly unraveling beneath him.

When Chanyeol finally decided Baekhyun’s body was ready, he slowed his hand and then, with one last kiss to the corner of his mouth, gently withdrew his fingers.

Baekhyun blinked up at him, breathing uneven, confusion flickering across his face. He looked like he wanted to ask a hundred questions. But before he could speak, Chanyeol reached for the hem of his pajama shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside. His pants and boxers followed, leaving nothing between them.

Baekhyun’s breath hitched, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Chanyeol’s arousal, flushed and heavy in his hand as the alpha gave himself a few quick pumps. The omega’s cheeks burned scarlet, his lips parting in silent shock.

Chanyeol leaned over him again, bracing himself carefully so Baekhyun wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. His voice was soft, almost trembling with both nerves and desire.

“Baek… are you okay?” he asked, searching his mate’s eyes with quiet desperation. “Do you want me to keep going?”

Baekhyun’s voice trembled, but his answer was steady enough. “I… I want to keep going.”

Chanyeol’s chest swelled with both love and responsibility. He leaned down, kissing Baekhyun slowly, whispering against his lips, “Alright, baby… just relax for me. I’m going to enter you now.”

Baekhyun nodded, his arms looping tightly around Chanyeol’s shoulders. When Chanyeol began to press forward, Baekhyun’s body tensed, his nails clutching at the alpha’s back as a sharp sting of pain made him gasp. Tears welled in his eyes before he could stop them, spilling down his cheeks.

Chanyeol froze immediately, his own heart aching at the sight. He kissed Baekhyun’s temple, his cheek, anywhere his lips could reach. “It’s okay, Baek… shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. The pain will pass, I promise. Just breathe with me… I love you so much.”

Baekhyun clung to him, his body trembling as Chanyeol eased the rest of the way inside, slow and deliberate until he was finally fully sheathed. The alpha stayed still, kissing away Baekhyun’s tears, whispering nothing but comfort.

When Baekhyun finally calmed, he sniffled softly and murmured, “I’m sorry… for crying.”

Chanyeol pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead. “Don’t you ever apologize for that. It’s normal, Baek. You’re perfect. You’re doing so well for me.”

Baekhyun’s lips parted in a shaky breath, and after a moment, he gave the faintest nod. “You can move now…”

Chanyeol kissed him again, slow and reassuring, before beginning to move carefully. His body burned with arousal, but his mind stayed centered on Baekhyun—watching every expression, listening to every sound.

At first, Baekhyun held tight, still adjusting, but then his thighs relaxed, and he spread his legs wider, granting Chanyeol more space. The alpha’s breath hitched at the silent trust, his hips finding a steadier rhythm.

He swallowed down the urge to lose control, focusing instead on the beauty of the omega beneath him—flushed cheeks, trembling lips, the faintest arch of his back. And then it happened: Baekhyun’s moans shifted, breaking free without hesitation, his voice trembling as he gasped Chanyeol’s name.

Chanyeol’s chest tightened with overwhelming emotion. He pressed his forehead against Baekhyun’s, whispering in a low, shaky voice, “Do you feel good, baby?”

Baekhyun’s lashes fluttered, his lips curling into a shy, open-mouthed smile as he nodded. A soft, desperate moan spilled from him in answer.

“Yes…”

Chanyeol’s chest tightened with happiness, seeing Baekhyun finally melting beneath him. The sound of the omega’s moans, the way his body trembled in rhythm with his own—it was overwhelming. For the first time, it truly felt like they were one, moving toward the same goal together. A release. A bond. A promise of their mating.

Driven by that thought, Chanyeol angled his hips carefully, searching for the spot that would bring Baekhyun even more pleasure. The moment he found it, Baekhyun’s body arched off the bed, his gasp breaking into a loud, unrestrained moan.

“Chanyeol—!”

The sound made heat pool in Chanyeol’s stomach, his control slipping as he thrust again and again, hitting that sweet spot deliberately just to see Baekhyun’s face crumble with pleasure. The omega writhed beneath him, clutching at the sheets, lost in the sensation.

Seeing Baekhyun like that—so beautiful, so undone because of him—made something in Chanyeol snap. His hips moved faster, harder, each thrust rougher than the last. Chanyeol groaned like a feral wolf.

Baekhyun’s moans pitched higher, his voice cracking into a desperate cry of Chanyeol’s name. The overwhelmed sound jolted Chanyeol back to himself instantly. He froze, heart pounding with guilt, his breath ragged.

“Baek—!” He cupped the omega’s face with trembling hands, eyes wide with worry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry... Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Baekhyun’s lashes were wet when he whispered, voice trembling, “I-I’m okay… it’s still… good.” His cheeks flushed red as he blinked up at him shyly. “Please, Chanyeol… keep going and be gentle.”

Relief and love washed through Chanyeol all at once. He pressed a deep, lingering kiss to Baekhyun’s lips, swallowing both their shaky breaths as he began to move again. His rhythm was careful at first, but the way Baekhyun’s body clung to him, the way their mouths melded in needy, passionate kisses, quickly drove them both higher.

Baekhyun broke away just enough to gasp, voice breaking with panic and wonder, “Chan… something is—”

Chanyeol hushed him with another kiss, his forehead pressing against Baekhyun’s. “You’re coming, love. Just let it happen—let go for me.” His voice was hoarse, trembling with both restraint and desire.

He angled himself perfectly, thrusting with more precision, hitting that sweet spot again and again until Baekhyun’s body arched and shook. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes as he sobbed out Chanyeol’s name, “Channn…!” His release tore through him, raw and overwhelming, his body trembling as he came for the very first time.

Baekhyun was overwhelmed, he didn't know what to do so he just cried in Chanyeol's arms.

The sight, the sound, the *feel* of Baekhyun’s body tightening so beautifully around him shattered Chanyeol’s restraint. He felt the abundant slick. A guttural groan tore from his throat as his hips snapped harder, pushing deeper to chase his own climax.

“Baekhyun—God—” His voice broke as he buried his face against the omega’s neck. Instinct overtook him, primal and undeniable. His teeth found the tender spot on Baekhyun’s skin, and with a desperate groan, he sank them in.

Baekhyun cried out at the sharp sting, but almost instantly it was washed away by a surge of dizzying pleasure, pulling another moan from his lips. His body clung tightly to Chanyeol as if it already knew—already welcomed—the claim.

Chanyeol’s release hit him at the same time, his body trembling violently as he spilled himself deep inside the omega. His mouth sealed to the mark as he drank, feeling Baekhyun’s essence flood into him in return.

Their moans blended together—raw, breathless, unrestrained—not just from the physical high but from the bond snapping into place, threading their souls together. It burned and soothed, hurt and healed, a rush of everything they had ever been meant to share.

Chanyeol pulled back only enough to whisper hoarsely against the new mark, his voice breaking, “Finally… you’re mine now.”

And Baekhyun, still trembling and clinging to him, answered with a fragile, tear-streaked smile.

---

Baekhyun sat quietly against the headboard, knees tucked up to his chest, his fresh pajamas soft against his skin. His eyes were still faintly red from earlier tears, his throat dry and sore from the sounds he hadn’t been able to hold back. He looked small like that, hugging himself, his damp hair falling into his face.

The door creaked softly, and Chanyeol came back in, holding a glass of water. His expression was all gentle worry now, the earlier hunger replaced by tenderness. “Here, Baek,” he said softly, crouching at the side of the bed to hand it to him. “Drink slowly.”

Baekhyun took it with trembling fingers and drank, the cool water soothing the raw ache in his throat. He finished the glass quickly, then held it out, shy and hesitant, for Chanyeol to take back. “T-Thank you…” he murmured, his voice raspier than usual.

Chanyeol set the glass aside and sat down beside him, careful not to crowd him. His eyes lingered, scanning Baekhyun’s face, searching for any sign of pain. “Are you okay? Still hurting anywhere?” His tone was soft, threaded with concern.

Baekhyun shook his head quickly, lowering his eyes. “No… it doesn’t hurt anymore.” His cheeks warmed with embarrassment, and he curled in on himself a little, shy under Chanyeol’s gaze.

Chanyeol’s heart twisted. And relief, after confirming that there's no trauma. He reached out gently, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Baekhyun’s ear. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmured. “You did so well tonight. I’m so proud of you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun’s lips parted slightly, his chest tightening at the words. He blinked up at him, startled, before quickly looking down again, flustered. His hands tightened on his knees, but the corners of his lips trembled upward, betraying the shy warmth he felt at Chanyeol’s praise.

Chanyeol smiled softly, leaning closer until his shoulder brushed Baekhyun’s. “You were beautiful… and so brave.”

The omega’s ears burned red at the compliment, and though he hid his face against his knees, the smile that spread across his lips couldn’t be contained.

Baekhyun hesitated for a moment before lifting his head slightly, his voice small and hesitant. “Chan… did you… feel good too?”

Chanyeol’s eyes softened, but there was a flicker of raw honesty in them as he leaned closer. He tilted Baekhyun’s chin gently so their eyes met. “Good doesn’t even cover it,” he murmured, his voice low. “Being with you… it made me want you even more.”

Baekhyun’s breath hitched, his face flooding with heat. He quickly ducked his head, hiding against his knees with a muffled whine. “Y-You can’t just say things like that…”

Chanyeol chuckled softly, the sound rich and affectionate. He brushed Baekhyun’s hair back, teasing in a whisper, “Why not? It’s the truth. You make it hard for me to stop, love.”

Baekhyun groaned quietly, burying himself deeper as his ears burned red. “You’re terrible…but I love you.” he muttered, though his heart raced at the words.

Smiling at his reaction, Chanyeol slipped an arm around him and pulled him close. “Maybe,” he admitted playfully, pressing a kiss to Baekhyun’s temple. “But I only ever want you. I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Back in Seoul, the glow of their Jeju vacation faded quickly when Baekhyun’s body gave in to exhaustion. The days of walking, shopping, the excitement of new places, and the intensity of their mating had left him completely drained. It was Baekhyun’s very first vacation, and his body wasn’t used to the constant activity and fatigue that came with it. By the next morning, he was shivering under the blankets, his skin flushed hot with fever and his lips dry and pale.

Chanyeol’s worry consumed him. He could feel the heat radiating off Baekhyun’s body the moment he touched him, the fever raging high enough to make him restless even in sleep. His breaths came shallow, and his delicate frame curled tight as if his body was fighting itself.

Chanyeol stayed at his side without pause, barely leaving the room except to fetch medicine, water, or a clean towel. He changed the compress on Baekhyun’s forehead every hour, checked his temperature constantly, and watched for the smallest changes in his expression. Every soft sound Baekhyun made in his sleep felt like a knife twisting deeper into Chanyeol’s chest.

The fever stretched on into the next day, and though Chanyeol told himself it was only the result of fatigue, he couldn’t quiet the fear in his mind. Baekhyun had always seemed fragile, innocent in so many ways, and now, seeing him laid weak and trembling, Chanyeol could hardly forgive himself for letting the trip wear him out.

It wasn’t until the second evening that Baekhyun’s fever finally began to break. His breathing steadied, his body no longer burning with heat, and a faint trace of color returned to his face. Relief hit Chanyeol so hard his shoulders slumped, the tension of sleepless hours finally giving way to quiet gratitude.

By the third morning, Baekhyun was on his feet again, pale but smiling, as if nothing had happened. Chanyeol, however, couldn’t shake the memory of how fragile he had looked, his small body curled in exhaustion against the sheets.

Chanyeol realized with clarity that no matter how much his body now ached with desire after knowing the feeling of being inside Baekhyun, nothing could ever outweigh the need to treasure him. Baekhyun is not just a body for Chanyeol's pleasure—he was everything. Too delicate to break, too precious to risk losing. The omega was so fragile—just one vacation and their first mating had left him with a high fever, his body struggling to endure what should have been simple joy. That fragility wasn’t a weakness—it was something precious, something to be cherished and guarded. Chanyeol swore to himself then, even if it tore him apart to hold back, he would protect him, guard him, and treasure him at all costs.

The next day, Baekhyun finally returned to his painting lessons, his energy not quite at full strength but his eyes shining with excitement. Chanyeol drove him there, promising that he’d pick him up afterward so they could have lunch together at Kyungsoo’s café. Once Baekhyun was safely inside, Chanyeol went back to his company, settling into work like it was any other normal day—but with a quiet anticipation in his chest for lunchtime.

Before heading over, Chanyeol sent a message to both Kyungsoo and Luhan, letting them know in advance. Luhan had practically exploded with excitement, and Kyungsoo, though quieter, had already prepared something special.

When Chanyeol finally pulled up in front of the café with Baekhyun, he hadn’t even finished parking when the omega suddenly leapt out of the driver’s seat. Chanyeol nearly had a heart attack, fumbling with his own seatbelt, but Baekhyun was already rushing inside, laughter trailing behind him.

Inside, Kyungsoo had just set their meals down when they entered, the rich aromas filling the air. He waved them over and joined them at the table. Luhan sat nearby too, both omegas eagerly listening as Baekhyun began talking animatedly about Jeju—about the horse riding, the fishing trip, the beach, and even the shopping. Every now and then, Baekhyun would glance at Chanyeol for confirmation, and the alpha would nod or add a small detail, which only made both omegas laugh along with him.

The table felt warm, lively, almost like family.

A little while later, Kyungsoo’s mate, Kai, arrived. Tall, composed, and carrying the quiet weight of an alpha’s presence, he approached the table with a polite smile. Baekhyun immediately stiffened, shrinking closer to Chanyeol, his nerves betraying him.

Sensing this, Kyungsoo reached over, his voice calm and reassuring. “It’s alright, Baekhyun. This is Kai—he’s my alpha, just like Chanyeol is yours. We’re mated, and married too.”

Baekhyun blinked, wide-eyed, as he watched the two together. Kai slipped an arm naturally around Kyungsoo’s waist, pulling him close, whispering something against his ear that made Kyungsoo’s lips curve into a small smile. Every so often, Kai leaned down to press a quick kiss against Kyungsoo’s temple, and they ate together with such quiet ease, their closeness unshaken and unashamed.

It was the first time Baekhyun had seen a mated couple like that up close—affection so simple, so natural, yet so grounding. And as he watched, amazement flickered in his eyes.

As the meal went on, Luhan suddenly tilted his head, curiosity in his tone. “Why didn’t you two come here right away? You’ve already been back for days.”

Chanyeol set his chopsticks down briefly, answering calmly, “Baekhyun caught a high fever when we got back. His body was exhausted from everything in Jeju.”

At that, Luhan’s face fell into immediate worry, his gaze snapping to Baekhyun. “Are you feeling better now?” he asked softly.

Baekhyun, chewing on a bite of food, simply nodded with a small smile, his cheeks puffing cutely as he swallowed and went back to eating.

But then Luhan’s eyes caught on the faint mark at Baekhyun’s neck. His expression hardened as he turned to Chanyeol, his voice sharper now. “Don’t tell me—you pushed him too hard? Is that why he got sick after being mated?”

Chanyeol’s brows furrowed at once, his voice defensive but steady. “No. That’s not it. He got sick because of all the activities we did in Jeju. It was his first vacation—his body just wasn’t used to it.”

Before Luhan could retort, Kyungsoo spoke up, his own voice carrying quiet heat. “Don’t lie, Chanyeol. I had a fever too after Kai marked me.” He shot his alpha a look, half glare, half memory, then turned back to Chanyeol. “Sometimes alphas don’t realize how much strain it puts on us. Kai was too rough with me too.”

Chanyeol exhale through his nose. He turned back to his plate, muttering, “I wasn’t hard on him.”

Baekhyun, however, remained blissfully unaware of the tension brewing around him. He lifted his head, eyes crinkling into crescents as he smiled brightly at the table. “This food is really good,” he chimed, tone light and pretty, before happily taking another bite.

He is glowing.

The omegas all looked at him, and Kyungsoo exhaled softly, shaking his head. “Oh, this innocent, pretty thing…” he murmured, gazing at Baekhyun with a mix of worry and fondness. Then, almost under his breath, he added, “He doesn’t even realize a crazy wolf wants to devour him.”

"God, I want to adopt him!" Luhan giggled watching Chanyeol's reaction.

Chapter Text

Baekhyun’s painting instructor had given them their next assignment—a piece to be showcased in an upcoming exhibit that would run alongside a major company event. The theme was “Journeys of the Heart,” an exploration of emotions through personal experiences.

The words weighed heavily on Baekhyun’s mind. That evening, curled up on the couch beside Chanyeol, he finally let it spill.

“Chan… I'm nervous thinking about it,” Baekhyun admitted softly, tugging at the sleeves of his oversized sweater until the cuffs swallowed his hands. “The theme is beautiful, but… I don’t have any inspiration. What if I can’t paint anything good enough?”

Chanyeol shifted closer, sliding a large hand around Baekhyun’s waist as if to anchor him. His palm nearly covered the omega’s entire side, the fragile curve of Baekhyun’s body impossibly soft under his touch. He could feel every breath, every little tremor of Baekhyun leaning into him, and it made his chest tighten with a quiet, protective greed.

“Of course you can,” Chanyeol murmured, lowering his head to press a kiss against the back of Baekhyun’s neck, right where his mark rested. The omega’s body responded instantly—Baekhyun sighed and leaned closer, as if his entire being was drawn to the gentle touch.

Chanyeol inhaled without meaning to, nose brushing Baekhyun’s skin. “You smell so good,” he whispered against him, lips brushing the mark again. Sweet, warm, strawberry-soft. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help the darker thought—so fertile and breedable—but he immediately cut it off, pulling himself back before his urges slipped through. His omega’s worries mattered more than his instincts.

Baekhyun hummed, cheeks tinting pink at the casual compliment, too innocent to realize how much weight Chanyeol’s words could carry. He only nestled deeper into the alpha’s chest, small hands fisting into his sweater.

“You just need a spark, that’s all,” Chanyeol said firmly, tilting Baekhyun’s chin with two fingers until their eyes met. “Come on. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to find one.”

Chanyeol brushed his thumb gently across Baekhyun’s cheek before pulling back. “Alright, love. We should get some rest. If you want to wake up early tomorrow, you need sleep.”

Baekhyun groaned in protest, tightening his hold around Chanyeol’s sweater. “But I like it here… it’s warm.”

Chanyeol chuckled, already reaching for the remote to turn off the TV. “You’ll get more warmth in bed. Come on, up you go.”

He stood, stretching a little, then turned back with a hand extended for Baekhyun to take. But instead of standing up normally, Baekhyun surprised him—pushing off the couch and clinging around Chanyeol’s neck, legs locking easily around the alpha’s waist.

“Baek—!” Chanyeol’s eyes widened, but his reflexes kicked in, strong arms catching the omega instantly, holding him steady against his chest.

Baekhyun giggled at his startled expression before burying his face into Chanyeol’s neck. His voice came muffled but sweet. “I like your warmth and smell too.”

Chanyeol’s throat tightened, a low groan slipping out before he could stop it. The weight of Baekhyun in his arms, the scent of strawberries sinking deeper into his lungs—it was everything he craved and everything he couldn’t allow himself to lose control over.

When Baekhyun is being too playful, he dont have a slight idea how it affects Chanyeol.

“Don’t make it harder for me, sweetheart,” he muttered, but Baekhyun only hummed, snuggling even closer.

“Take me to bed, Chan,” Baekhyun whispered, voice small but commanding, like he knew Chanyeol would never refuse him.

And he was right. Chanyeol adjusted his grip, carrying him with ease while the omega cling into him like a koala. His lips brushed Baekhyun’s temple as he started toward their room.

“Alright, alright. Straight to bed,” he said softly, unable to hide the fond smile tugging at his lips as the omega clung tighter, perfectly content in his arms.

---

The next day, Chanyeol kept his promise. He drove Baekhyun to a popular art exhibit, and the omega’s mood shifted the moment they stepped inside. His eyes grew round, sparkling as he wandered from canvas to canvas, pointing eagerly.

“Look, Chan! The way they blended the blue here—it looks like the sea at night!” Baekhyun said, bouncing slightly on his heels as he tugged at Chanyeol’s sleeve. His fluffy pink shoulder bag bounced with him, his baggy jeans and soft sweater making him look even smaller, softer.

Chanyeol smiled faintly, his gaze never straying far. “You’re more excited than the kids I’ve seen on school trips.”

Baekhyun puffed his cheeks, pretending to sulk. “Yah, don’t tease me. I just… I like it. Everything feels alive here.”

“I know,” Chanyeol murmured, eyes softening as he watched him walk a little ahead.

Baekhyun was glowing—so much so that several other guests couldn’t help but glance his way. Some whispered to each other, a few alphas letting their eyes linger a little too long. Chanyeol felt his chest tighten, his jaw clenching as he subtly stepped closer, looming protectively behind Baekhyun. His gaze hardened, a silent warning to anyone who dared to look twice.

“Chan!” Baekhyun’s voice broke his thoughts. He was pointing at a vibrant painting, bouncing on his heels again. “Doesn’t this look like us in Jeju? The colors, the way it feels… doesn’t it remind you of the beach we went to?”

Chanyeol’s lips curved into a small smile, the possessiveness easing slightly as he focused only on him. “Yeah… you’re right. It does.”

Baekhyun grinned, clearly delighted by his answer, before moving on to the next piece with the same childlike excitement. Chanyeol followed quietly, thinking to himself that no art in the world could ever compare to the sight in front of him.

Baekhyun’s cheerful bouncing slowed until it stopped altogether. His steps grew heavy as his gaze landed on a canvas hanging quietly on the far wall. Unlike the others, this one seemed to stand out—not for being grand or overwhelming, but for the quiet beauty it carried. The colors blended in an almost magical harmony, rich yet soft, as though each stroke had been placed with care.

It was a painting of a delicate hand reaching upward, and perched gently on the fingertips was a stunning bird, its wings half-spread as if caught between staying and taking flight. The feathers shimmered in layers of blues and golds, the light in the painting making them look alive. It radiated hope and freedom, yet carried a certain intimacy, like a secret only the painter could share.

Chanyeol noticed immediately. The air around Baekhyun shifted from bright excitement to stillness, his small body tense as though the painting pulled something deep out of him. Without a word, Chanyeol moved closer, his hand finding Baekhyun’s waist. He squeezed gently, grounding him, then leaned down to press a soft kiss to the mark at the back of his nape.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked quietly, his voice low with concern.

Baekhyun’s lips parted, but no words came at first. His hand trembled slightly as he lifted it, pointing at the bottom right corner of the canvas. There, almost hidden beneath the color, was a single initial—a uniquely styled letter B.

His voice broke when he finally spoke. “It’s mine…” Baekhyun whispered, glassy eyes fixed on the painting as though he couldn’t look away.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol stayed behind when Baekhyun, too shaken and glass-eyed, let himself be coaxed into resting inside the car. The omega had been clinging to him minutes earlier, trembling, and it broke Chanyeol’s heart to peel him off only so he could deal with the matter. He made sure Baekhyun was settled comfortably in the back seat, the doors locked, before turning back toward the gallery with heavy steps.

The assigned curator welcomed him politely, still unaware of the storm brewing in Chanyeol’s chest. When Chanyeol asked about the painting, the man hesitated before lowering his voice.

“That piece,” the curator explained, “was submitted under the name Byun Baekjin. It was brought here by his mother. There were several in the collection, all signed with that same unique ‘B.’ They’ve already drawn attention—most are sold or reserved.”

Chanyeol’s jaw tightened. “Baekjin?” He almost spat the name.

“Yes. The model. He’s on hiatus now, and there are… rumors. That he’s expecting a child. Perhaps that’s why he decided to focus on painting for a while.” The curator gave a small shrug, oblivious to the fury building in front of him. “The works have been very well-received. This one is still here, but only because the buyer has not yet finalized the payment.”

Chanyeol dragged a hand over his face, exhaling hard into his palm. Rage simmered in his veins. Baekhyun’s work. Baekhyun’s colors. Baekhyun’s dream—stolen, claimed by his twin brother.

He wanted to tear the canvas down and burn the lies with his own hands. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think through the haze of anger. Suing Baekjin was the obvious step—Chanyeol had the power, the money, the influence to crush him. But one glance at the car parked outside, at the small figure curled up inside it, reminded him what was at stake. The last thing Baekhyun needed was to be dragged into the Byun family’s orbit again.

Chanyeol clenched his fists, forcing the tremor out of them. He would not let Baekhyun be hurt by this. Not again.

“I’ll be back for this piece,” he told the curator flatly, tone sharp enough to slice. “And for every other painting submitted under that name. Hold them. None of them are his.”

The man blinked, startled, but Chanyeol didn’t wait for a reply. He strode out of the gallery, frustration burning hot in his chest. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he let his gaze soften at the sight of Baekhyun sleeping, exhaustion pulling his brows together even in rest.

Chanyeol started the car quietly, determination hardening in his eyes. He would get back every single painting. He would confront Baekjin, force him to withdraw the works, and make sure everything was returned to Baekhyun—the rightful artist.

No one would take Baekhyun’s light from him again.

---

The next morning, after dropping Baekhyun off at his painting lesson, Chanyeol didn’t head straight to his office. Instead, he gripped the wheel tighter and drove toward the Byun estate, anger rising with every kilometer. Memories of Minjae—Baekjin’s secret lover—flashed in his mind like sparks to fuel the fire.

When he arrived, the grand house felt hollow. Mr. and Mrs. Byun weren’t there, and the maids informed him politely that Baekjin was resting, unwell.

Chanyeol didn’t care. He climbed the familiar stairs and opened the door without knocking.

Inside, Baekjin lay curled up in bed, silk pajamas draped over his slight frame. At the first whiff of Chanyeol’s pheromones, the pregnant omega shifted weakly, his head lifting.

“Yeol…” he groaned, his voice fragile but filled with need. He reached for him, arms slipping around Chanyeol’s neck as he buried his face against the alpha’s throat. “God, I missed your scent. I vomited all morning… this feels good.” He tugged insistently until Chanyeol was sitting beside him on the bed, too drained to resist.

Chanyeol’s gaze flicked down involuntarily. Baekjin’s hair, now long enough to brush his brows, made him look strikingly like Baekhyun without his usual gloss of makeup and luxury. His eyes trailed lower, to the small curve beneath his pajama top, a small bump. A sharp ache twisted in his chest as he imagined Baekhyun, not Baekjin, glowing with a child that was truly his.

“Baekjin… I’m not here for this.” Chanyeol gently pulled back, careful not to hurt him. Once, he thought what he felt for Baekjin was love. Now he saw it for what it was: a shallow attraction, a mistake and lust.

Baekjin blinked at him with wide, pleading eyes, his hand stroking the small bump. “Yeol… I need you.” His trembling fingers cupped Chanyeol’s face, tugging him down for a kiss.

Chanyeol turned away, his grip firm on Baekjin’s wrists. “No.” His voice dropped, hard and steady. “The paintings. Why the fuck are you selling Baekhyun’s paintings?”

Baekjin froze, then pouted, tone petulant. “There were too many in the basement. And I need funds while I don’t have projects. I need another house for my baby.” He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Chanyeol’s fury snapped. He shot to his feet, pacing once before dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I need you to return everything,” he ordered, his voice a low growl. “Withdraw the paintings from the gallery. Give them back—or I will sue.”

Baekjin’s eyes shimmered before filling with angry tears. “You like my brother that much?” he spat, voice rising. “He made plenty of those anyway! He always paints more because it’s all he can do! Why are you making such a big deal out of it? It’s not like he even knows how money works—he’s ignorant!”

That was the last straw. In a blur, Chanyeol’s hand wrapped around Baekjin’s throat—not squeezing, but firm enough to silence him.

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” he snarled, his own pheromones spiking. “You’re lucky, Baekjin. The chosen one. What if you’d been in his place? Baekhyun is smarter than you’ll ever be, more talented than you’ll ever admit. And he is my omega. You don’t get to talk down to him.”

He shoved him back onto the bed, releasing him. Baekjin coughed and gasped for air, eyes wide in shock.

“Your omega?” his voice cracked, wet with tears. “Did… did you mark him?”

Chanyeol’s jaw clenched. “What if I did?”

“No!” Baekjin screamed, lunging forward, fists pounding weakly at Chanyeol’s chest. “I’m pregnant, you idiot! And you marked that bitch? I hate you!”

Chanyeol caught his wrists again, holding him still. His voice dropped to a chilling calm. “Are you even sure it’s mine? Because I met Minjae. Or should I call him what he is—your secret lover, while you were engaged to me?”

Baekjin froze, his face draining of color. Then slowly, he chuckled, a bitter sound. “It doesn’t matter, Yeol.” His lips curled into a cruel smile. “You’ll still take responsibility for this baby.”

Before Chanyeol could react, Baekjin’s arms looped around his neck and—like a viper striking—his teeth sank into Chanyeol’s skin.

A searing burn spread across his neck as Baekjin bit down, marking the alpha.

Chapter Text

Chanyeol shoved Baekjin off him so hard that the omega fell back against the pillows, silk sheets tangling around his thin body. His hand flew to his neck, feeling the sting and wet warmth of fresh blood seeping from the bite. His vision swam red with fury.

“What the fuck did you just do?!” Chanyeol roared, voice booming through the room. His chest heaved with anger, rage coursing through him like fire.

Baekjin only licked the blood from his lips, smiling with a twisted kind of triumph. His eyes gleamed, wild and feverish. “Guess what?” he purred mockingly. “You’re bonded to me now, Park Chanyeol. Poor Baekhyunie… It’s his fault, isn’t it? He never marked you.”

The words stabbed straight into him. Chanyeol’s stomach twisted, his mind rejecting what had just happened—but the bond burned at the edge of his consciousness, dark and sticky, tugging at him with an unnatural pull.

“No…” he whispered, shaking his head. “No, you—”

Baekjin leaned forward, eyes glassy with obsession. His lips crashed against Chanyeol’s. For a split second, Chanyeol didn’t move, his body sluggish, his instincts tangled in the forced bond. He kissed back without thinking, as though bewitched by the mark, his hands frozen at his sides.

Baekjin’s heart thudded wildly as he seized the opening, pushing Chanyeol backward onto the mattress. His thin frame climbed onto the alpha’s lap, straddling him with surprising strength for someone so fragile. He deepened the kiss, desperate, hungry, forcing his tongue past Chanyeol’s lips as if staking his claim.

Chanyeol’s mind screamed no, but the bite burned like poison, clouding his thoughts. His fists clenched, torn between shoving Baekjin away and the unnatural haze dragging him under.

Baekjin broke the kiss only to breathe harshly against his mouth, eyes glinting. “You’re mine now,” he whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “And no one—not even Baekhyun—can take you away.”

---

It was already noon when Baekhyun’s painting lesson ended, the warm sun pouring heavily through the tall windows of the studio. He smiled faintly as he packed up his brushes, expecting to see the tall, familiar figure waiting for him outside like always. But when he stepped out with his fluffy shoulder bag slung over his arm, the space in front of the studio was empty.

Baekhyun blinked in confusion, his small hands tightening around the strap. Chanyeol’s black car was always there, always the first thing he saw when lessons ended. He bit his lip, squinting across the street, then walked further down the parking lot under the burning afternoon heat. His sweater clung uncomfortably to his skin, but he kept searching.

Nothing.

The teacher, who was just locking the studio doors, frowned when she spotted him wandering. “Baekhyunie,” she called gently, “did your alpha not arrive yet?”

Baekhyun dropped his gaze, fiddling with his fingers like a scolded child. He only managed a small nod, throat tightening.

She gave him a kind smile. “It’s too hot outside. Just wait here, hmm? I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Baekhyun nodded again, obedient as always, and shuffled back to the shaded waiting area. He sat down quietly, clutching his soft pink bag to his chest, trying not to let the strange heaviness in his chest spill over.

Minutes ticked by. Each passing car made him lift his head, only for disappointment to sink deeper when none of them stopped for him. His lips trembled, his hands fisting into the fabric of his bag.

“Chanyeolie…” he whispered, voice breaking.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Chanyeol’s number with shaking fingers. The line rang once, twice, three times. No answer. His vision blurred with tears as it rang again and again, but all he was met with was silence.

By the fourth attempt, Baekhyun’s tears were spilling freely, sliding down his cheeks as he covered his mouth to muffle his sob. His small body trembled in the chair, the scent of his distress beginning to seep faintly into the air.

He stood abruptly, wiping at his face. He couldn’t sit still anymore. Slinging his bag back over his shoulder, Baekhyun stepped out of the studio, escaping the teacher’s eyesight. His feet carried him to the bus stop, his heart pounding, head light from both the heat and the tears.

When the first bus screeched to a stop, he climbed on without checking where it was headed—only remembering what Chanyeol had taught him before.

Baekhyun clutched the pole tightly as the bus rumbled to life. His stomach growled faintly, reminding him he hadn’t eaten lunch. His eyes were still glassy, lashes wet, but he bit his lip hard and willed himself not to cry again.

When the bus finally arrived at the stop, Baekhyun stepped down into the noisy, crowded street. The sun beat down mercilessly, the voices around him a blur, but he forced his small legs to walk.

One block. Two blocks. Three.

Despite the hunger gnawing at his belly. Despite the heat that made him dizzy. Despite the way people brushed past him and made his heart race with fear.

He kept going—teary-eyed, trembling, but determined. Because at the end of this road was Chanyeol.

And Baekhyun just wanted to see him.

The receptionist immediately noticed Baekhyun’s distressed face and stepped forward.
“Mr. Baekjin, Mr. Park didn’t come to work today.”

Baekhyun didn’t even care that she called him by the wrong name—he just wanted to see Chanyeol.
“But… Chanyeolie drove me to the studio this morning,” he stammered, his voice shaky as he clung to the only truth he had.

“Yes, sir, but he hasn’t shown up here at all,” she insisted gently, before turning away to assist another guest.

Baekhyun’s legs felt weak, forcing him to sink onto one of the lobby chairs. His heart pounded in his chest, cold fear wrapping around him. What if something happened to him? What if Chanyeol was hurt somewhere and he wasn’t there? But another thought twisted the knife even deeper—what if Chanyeol simply grew tired of him… and went home without saying a word?

His throat tightened. No—he couldn’t wait here.

Baekhyun shot up and rushed out of the building. His feet carried him on pure desperation as he retraced everything Chanyeol had taught him: the bus stop, the subway lines, each turn and stop engraved into his memory. The transport card Chanyeol had given him trembled in his hand, his only lifeline in this moment.

By the time Baekhyun reached the tall building of the penthouse, his legs were weak, his sweater damp from sweat and tears. He pressed the elevator button with shaking fingers, clutching the strap of his bag tightly until the doors opened.

“Channn!” his voice cracked as he called out. Silence.

He checked the bathroom, the kitchen, even the balcony, his breaths growing shallow. But every room was the same. Empty.

Baekhyun’s knees buckled, and he fell onto the floor, tears spilling freely as a sob tore from his chest.
“Chann… where are you?” his voice broke, trembling and raw. “Come back… please…”

His shoulders shook violently, the sound of his crying echoing against the quiet walls. He curled into himself, knees pulled to his chest as he called for him again and again, voice trembling with every breath.

But no matter how much Baekhyun cried, no one answered.

For the first time since Chanyeol brought him home, Baekhyun felt completely, terrifyingly alone.

Chapter Text

The penthouse sank into darkness as the sun set beyond the city skyline. Baekhyun stayed curled up on the couch, knees to his chest, eyes locked on the front door as if sheer willpower could make it open—make Chanyeol walk in with that familiar grin, calling his name like always.

But nothing came. Only silence.
The quiet pressed in on him, suffocating. His tears flowed without pause, his small frame trembling as fear clawed at him. Without Chanyeol, he felt bare—unprotected, fragile, exposed to a world that suddenly seemed too cruel.

He didn’t know how much time had passed; hours maybe, or just minutes stretched thin by panic. The darkness swallowed everything until he couldn’t take it anymore. With trembling hands, he fumbled for his phone from his bag, using its screen as a dim flashlight to find the switch.

The light flickered on, stabbing at his swollen eyes. His vision blurred, but as he scrolled through the contacts, he noticed two names saved—Luhan and Kyungsoo. People Chanyeol trusted.

His fingers shook violently as he pressed Luhan’s number. The ringing nearly drove him mad, each second a dagger of helplessness.

“Hello Baekhyun-ah?” Luhan’s voice came quickly, tightening with worry as soon as he saw the caller ID.

Baekhyun’s voice cracked the moment he heard it. “Lu…han-hyung… Chanyeol—he’s—he’s gone! He’s not here, I waited, I waited but he never came back—” His words collapsed into sobs, choked and broken.

“Baekhyun, calm down, breathe. What do you mean gone?” Luhan’s tone sharpened, alarm bleeding through his calmness.

“I don’t know—I don’t know where he is!” Baekhyun cried, clutching the phone so tightly his knuckles whitened. “I called, but—he’s not home, he’s not anywhere! I’m so scared... what if something happened—” His voice crumbled into silence, only shallow gasps filling the line.

Luhan’s chair screeched in the background as he stood up. “Stay there, don’t move. I’m coming right now.”

Baekhyun’s lips trembled, but he could only whisper, “Please… please come fast…”

And the line went dead.

Baekhyun sank back onto the couch, phone pressed to his chest, sobs shaking his fragile body as he waited for the sound of footsteps—praying that the next person through the door would be Chanyeol.

---

The door burst open after what felt like an eternity, and Baekhyun’s tear-filled eyes darted up in hope—only to see Luhan rushing in with his alpha right behind him.

“Baekhyun-ah,” Luhan called softly, his heart breaking at the sight of the trembling omega curled into himself on the couch, eyes red and swollen from crying. Without hesitation, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Baekhyun’s small frame, pulling him into a firm embrace.

Baekhyun clung to him immediately, fists tightening in Luhan’s shirt as his body shook with another wave of sobs. “H-Hyung… Chanyeolie…i searched for him... but he’s gone…”

“Shh, I’m here, I’m here,” Luhan murmured against his hair, rocking him gently, his voice soothing like a lullaby. He pressed Baekhyun’s head against his chest, letting him cry until the sobs grew weaker. “You’re safe. Just breathe with me, little one… just breathe… good.”

Behind them, Sehun was already moving, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. “I’ll get water,” he said quickly, disappearing into the kitchen. He returned moments later, setting a glass on the table, but when he saw how weak Baekhyun was, he left it untouched for now. Instead, he paced toward the wide window, phone pressed to his ear as he began making urgent calls. His tall frame was outlined against the city lights, his voice low but tense as he spoke to contacts, searching for any lead on Chanyeol’s whereabouts.

Meanwhile, Luhan continued to cuddle Baekhyun, stroking his back. He could feel the heat radiating off the younger’s skin—unnatural, feverish. The omega’s scent was sharp with distress, and Luhan’s heart sank.

It wasn’t illness. It was the bond.
A new mating bond, raw and fragile, and the absence of his alpha was tearing Baekhyun apart from the inside out.

“You’re burning up,” Luhan whispered, brushing the damp hair off Baekhyun’s forehead. “But listen to me—you’re not sick, okay? This is just your bond calling for Chanyeol. Your body… it needs him. His pheromones, his presence. That’s why you feel like this.”

Baekhyun whimpered softly, pressing his face harder into Luhan’s chest. “I just… want him home…” His words were slurred with exhaustion, as though even his voice was breaking under the bond’s strain.

“I know, baby, I know,” Luhan soothed, rocking him gently as if he were a child. His own throat tightened with sympathy. He’d been mated long enough to understand the ache of separation, but Baekhyun—so newly bonded, so delicate—was unraveling completely.

Luhan just knew. If ever Chanyeol die, this omega will not survive.

Behind them, Sehun’s voice sharpened on the phone. “Check again. He wouldn’t just vanish.” His hand curled into a fist as he stared out the window, city lights reflecting in his eyes.

The room was filled with quiet sobs, hurried whispers, and the sound of Luhan’s steady heartbeat against Baekhyun’s ear—a fragile cocoon of comfort in the suffocating absence of the alpha he longed for.

Luhan’s heart ached as he felt Baekhyun’s small frame continue trembling in his arms. The omega’s exhaustion was clear—his eyelids fluttering weakly, his body limp yet overheated with the strain of the bond.

Without a word, Luhan rummaged through the laundry basket, pulling out one of Chanyeol’s worn shirts—soft, oversized, carrying the alpha’s comforting scent. Carefully, he slipped it over Baekhyun’s thin shoulders, tucking the fabric around him like a shield.

“Here… this will help,” Luhan whispered, smoothing the collar. Baekhyun inhaled shakily, and for the first time that night, his body relaxed just a little, clinging to the fabric as though it were Chanyeol himself.

“Chan…” he murmured faintly, curling into Luhan’s embrace. Within minutes, his exhaustion won, and he fell asleep against Luhan’s chest. The older omega held him protectively, rocking him like glass too fragile to break.

The penthouse door clicked again, and Kyungsoo strode in, his expression dark and tight. He didn’t even stop to greet anyone; his phone was already pressed to his ear ringing someone.

Sehun glanced up from where he stood by the window. “You think it’s Baekjin?”

Kyungsoo’s jaw clenched. “Who else would dare? Chanyeol would never vanish without a word—especially not leaving Baekhyun like this.”

Luhan’s eyes flicked toward the sleeping boy in his arms, his chest tightening at the truth of Kyungsoo’s words.

Kyungsoo’s voice dropped lower, sharper. “Baekjinie, hey. Yeah, it’s me. Chanyeol ordered five dozen cupcakes for a family event, but I can’t reach him. Do you know where he is right now?”

There was a pause. Then Baekjin’s lazy drawl slithered through the line. “What event?”

Kyungsoo’s fist tightened around the phone. He forced a calm, clipped tone. “I don’t know. He said it’s private. Maybe… your baby shower, if you’re having one?”

A soft chuckle came from the other end, smug and mocking. It made Kyungsoo’s blood boil.

“Yeah, maybe… He’s sleeping, so I’ll let him contact you later.”

The line went dead.

Kyungsoo lowered the phone slowly, his jaw tight, eyes burning with restrained fury. “Son of a—” He hissed a curse under his breath before slamming himself down onto the couch. His leg bounced furiously, and his fists dug into his knees.

Sehun crossed the room, silent but steady, and offered him the untouched glass of water. Their eyes met—Sehun’s calm but sharp, Kyungsoo’s simmering with anger. Kyungsoo snatched the glass, downing it in one go before pressing the heel of his hand against his temple.

“He have him, I don't know what this bitch is up to..” Kyungsoo muttered darkly, his voice shaking with the effort not to explode.

Across the room, Baekhyun whimpered softly in his sleep, curling tighter into Chanyeol’s shirt. Luhan rocked him gently, glaring at the ceiling.

Sehun stood back near the window, the city lights casting a pale glow over his sharp features. “How are we going to get Chanyeol out of the Byun estate?” he asked at last, his voice low so as not to wake the boy.

Luhan smoothed a hand over Baekhyun’s hair, his tone calm but firm. “Sehunnie, not now. Baekjin’s an omega—he can’t restrain a full-grown alpha, not without help. If Chanyeol hasn’t come back yet, maybe… he has a plan. We wait.”

Sehun frowned, jaw tight, but he nodded slowly. His hand pressed against the glass as if he could burn a hole through the night sky.

Kyungsoo, who had been pacing the edge of the room, finally stopped and looked back at them. “Luhan’s right. For now, we make sure the omega is okay. If there’s still no sign of Chanyeol tomorrow, then we make a move.” His words were steady, but his eyes were sharp with unspoken anger.

All three shared the silent weight of agreement.

Kyungsoo’s gaze dropped to the fragile figure in Luhan’s arms. His voice softened, almost hesitant. “Do you think… he’s pregnant?”

Luhan’s lips parted slightly before he shook his head. “No. His scent is normal. And…” he glanced at Sehun before adding, “Chanyeol mentioned once that he’s on medication. For self-control and contraceptives. He wouldn’t risk Baekhyun like that.”

Kyungsoo exhaled and gave a slow nod, his shoulders easing though his expression remained grave.

The penthouse was too big, too quiet, its silence broken only by the hum of the city outside. One by one, they settled into the couches, their bodies stiff with unease. Sehun remained at the window, Luhan cradled Baekhyun close as if guarding his heart itself, and Kyungsoo leaned back against the armrest, eyes never leaving the omega even as the night stretched long and heavy around them.

---

It was just past 3 a.m. when the quiet of the penthouse shattered. The soft click of the front door unlocking jolted Sehun upright from his uneasy sleep on the couch. His instincts roared to life instantly—three omegas in the room, one of them fragile and newly mated—he was on edge, ready to fight.

But then the tall figure stepped inside, and Sehun froze.

“Chanyeol?” His voice cracked with both shock and relief.

The alpha looked nothing like himself. His tall frame seemed to sway under its own weight, one hand clutching desperately at the side of his neck, his steps uneven like each one cost him everything. His skin was pale, lips drawn tight, sweat dampening his hair. He looked ready to collapse.

Sehun was at his side in an instant, catching him just as his knees buckled. “Shit—Kyungsoo help me!” he barked, his own panic cutting through the silence.

Kyungsoo startled awake, his eyes widening when he saw. He rushed forward, helping Sehun half-carry, half-drag Chanyeol toward the couch. Chanyeol cursed under his breath, low and pained, his body trembling as they lowered him down.

And then he let go of his neck.

Kyungsoo gasped, his hand flying to his mouth. There, across Chanyeol’s skin, was a raw mark—angry, jagged, smeared with dried blood. The wound radiated something vile, wrong. And worse, the scent of Chanyeol’s pheromones was muddied—tainted—with the unmistakable trace of another omega.

The foul mixture swept across the room like smoke.

Luhan stirred at once, senses sharpening. He sat up quickly, and with that, the smaller body in his arms shifted.

Baekhyun blinked groggily, disoriented—until his gaze fell on the broken figure across the room. His heart seemed to stop.

“Channn…”

His cry was small, strangled, but it carried across the space like a blade. Baekhyun stumbled to his feet, tears spilling before he even realized he was crying. He ran—barefoot, trembling—and threw himself against the alpha’s side.

Chanyeol’s arms lifted weakly, instinctively wrapping around him, holding him close despite his own pain. The relief in his eyes was raw, almost desperate, as he buried his face in Baekhyun’s hair.

“Baek…” His voice cracked, his chest shaking with the force of it. He held his omega tighter, as if letting go would mean losing everything.

Baekhyun sobbed harder, clutching at Chanyeol’s shirt, his small frame pressed against him like he could shield him from whatever had hurt him.

And for a moment, even with the bitter scent of betrayal hanging in the air, there was only the sound of their breathing, tangled in anguish and need.

Chapter Text

“What the heck happened to you, Chanyeol? God!” Kyungsoo’s voice cut sharply through the tense silence. He crouched beside the couch, staring at the wound on Chanyeol’s neck, horror flickering in his eyes.

Chanyeol only looked at him, gaze heavy and tired. He didn’t answer—the truth was written plainly across his skin, in the foul mix of pheromones clinging to him.

“Why did you come home only now?” Luhan asked, tone lower and steadier, though the way he stepped closer to Sehun betrayed his unease. Sehun instinctively wrapped an arm around him, protective.

“My body… it was too weak while I was trying to reject the mark. I collapsed,” Chanyeol admitted hoarsely, each word strained.

Sehun’s eyes flicked to the angry mark. “Why didn’t you let your omega mark you back then?”

Chanyeol’s gaze softened as it dropped to Baekhyun, still crying against his chest. “He was exhausted that night… not physically ready. I couldn’t push him.” His thumb brushed Baekhyun’s damp cheek. “I wanted it though. I was waiting for our second time—wanted him to mark me then. But we never had the chance before Baekjin happened.”

Sehun sighed, shaking his head with disbelief and pity. “You really make things complicated, hyung. So what happens now?”

Chanyeol’s arms tightened protectively around Baekhyun, who clung to him as if afraid he’d vanish again. The alpha lowered his face into Baekhyun’s hair, lips brushing the soft strands.

“We erase the mark,” Chanyeol said firmly, almost to himself. Then he pressed a trembling kiss to Baekhyun’s own mark. “Baek… I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Baekhyun sniffled, pressing his cheek to Chanyeol’s chest. Once he calmed enough, his whisper came soft but certain: “I love you. I missed you…”

His precious omega. Baekhyun didn’t deserve to be robbed by his brother all his life. Chanyeol had promised to protect him, yet he couldn’t even protect himself—forgetting that he was Baekhyun’s anchor now.

Chanyeol’s chest tightened painfully. He tipped Baekhyun’s chin up gently. “I need to tell you something, baby,” he murmured, needing him to listen.

Baekhyun blinked up, eyes still glassy but attentive.

“I’m injured… and I need your help.” Chanyeol’s thumb wiped away a tear. “Do you remember the night we made your mark?”

Baekhyun nodded slowly, confusion crossing his face.

“We need to do it again,” Chanyeol said, voice low and deliberate. “But this time, you need to do the same to me. You need to mark me.”

Baekhyun froze, staring at the blood-stained skin. His hands trembled. “I—I don’t understand…”

“You don’t have to,” Chanyeol soothed, brushing his nose against Baekhyun’s temple. “Just trust me. It’s the only way to erase this.”

Baekhyun’s lips parted, still hesitant, but when he looked again at the mark not his own staining his alpha’s neck, something sharp and possessive twisted inside him. He nodded, even if his voice shook. “I’ll do it.”

Across the room, Luhan and Kyungsoo exchanged looks. Realization flickered, and Luhan tugged Sehun’s wrist. “We should leave. Now.”

Sehun frowned but understood, guiding Luhan toward the door. Before leaving, Luhan shot Chanyeol a pointed look. “Be gentle please.”

Kyungsoo added, “And call us if anything happens.”

“I will,” Chanyeol promised, tightening his hold on Baekhyun.

The heavy door shut, leaving only the two of them in the glow of the living room, hearts pounding under the weight of what was about to happen.

---

Chanyeol carried Baekhyun into their bedroom (no longer just his but theirs since Jeju) and carefully laid him down. His steps were weak, but his heart told him this was the right time. The moment to erase Baekjin’s mark.

Leaning down, he kissed Baekhyun’s lips, whispering between every brush, “I’m sorry, Baek… I’m so sorry I couldn’t come home to you right away.”

Baekhyun’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “I was so scared, Chan… I even rode the bus to your office. And home.”

Chanyeol froze, pulling back to see him. Shock, guilt, and pride all collided inside him—his fragile omega, braving the world just to find him. His chest ached. He kissed Baekhyun harder. “It’s never going to happen again. I promise.”

Their mouths clashed, desperate and messy. Baekhyun clung tighter, legs wrapping instinctively around Chanyeol’s waist.

With trembling hands, Chanyeol stripped away the layers of Baekhyun’s clothes—his oversized shirt and the smaller ones beneath—until the omega was bare beneath him. He paused, searching his face. “Do you still feel sick?” he asked softly, remembering how feverish Baekhyun had been.

Baekhyun shook his head quickly, clutching at him. “I need you, Chan… please.”

That plea alone made Chanyeol groan, his restraint crumbling as his body hardened.

Chanyeol’s mouth crashed against Baekhyun’s skin, teeth grazing, lips sucking harshly at the curve of his neck. Baekhyun gasped, arching, nails digging into his back.

“Ch–Chan… ah—” his breath hitched as Chanyeol’s mouth found his nipples, sucking one hard, tugging until Baekhyun’s cry filled the room before switching to the other. The omega trembled, chest heaving, voice breaking into whimpers as sensitive skin flushed red beneath Chanyeol’s mouth.

Chanyeol still feels like it’s illegal to do this with Baekhyun—his omega, his husband. He wants him so badly in so many ways, but he is always hesitant; he doesn’t want to stain the innocent omega’s mind with lewd things. But then Chanyeol realizes that this is normal for married couples. They love each other, and this is not just a lustful act but an intimacy that strengthens their bond.

Only when Baekhyun’s nails dragged down his arms did Chanyeol pull away, panting as he shoved his thighs apart. His lips glistened when he looked up. “Hold on to me, Baek.”

Then he buried his face between Baekhyun’s legs without hesitation.

Baekhyun cried out, confuse but hands clutching at Chanyeol’s hair. “Ch–Chan! Oh, God—” His thighs clamped around broad shoulders as Chanyeol licked a long stripe over him.

The alpha groaned, the sound vibrating against Baekhyun’s most sensitive spot. He spread him wider, licking slower this time, savoring each shiver.

Baekhyun’s hips bucked helplessly when Chanyeol sealed his mouth over him, sucking hard, tongue teasing his entrance with obscene precision. He felt devoured, every nerve sparking alive as slick sounds filled the quiet room.

“Ahh—please, please,” Baekhyun gasped, tears stinging his eyes. His body twisted, back arching beautifully as his fingers pulled at Chanyeol’s hair, desperate.

The alpha’s tongue pressed deeper, relentless, swirling with rough desperation but intimate, like worship. He moaned into him, vibrations shooting through Baekhyun’s core, making him cry louder.

“You taste so good,” Chanyeol muttered hoarsely between licks before diving back in, tongue circling until Baekhyun shook violently.

Baekhyun couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His thighs trembled, voice spilling into helpless whimpers. “I—I can’t—ahhh, Chan, I’m—” His walls clenched, close to release.

But Chanyeol pulled back, lips glistening. “No. Not yet.”

Baekhyun sobbed in frustration, body arching as slick dripped down his thighs.

Chanyeol kissed his inner thigh before sliding in a finger, testing. Baekhyun gasped, clenching tight. Another finger stretched him, scissoring slowly.

“More… please—don’t stop…” Baekhyun moaned, hips rolling helplessly.

Chanyeol’s clothes hit the floor in a rush. Hovering above him, flushed and trembling, he searched Baekhyun’s tear-streaked face.

“You ready, baby?” he asked hoarsely, stroking himself before positioning.

Baekhyun nodded frantically, legs wrapped around him. “Please, Chan… I need you.” The separation made the omega desperate.

Chanyeol kissed him deeply as he slid in slowly. Baekhyun gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, body stretching tight around him. Chanyeol paused, trembling with restraint.

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

But Baekhyun shook his head, clutching tighter. “No—please, I want it.”

With a groan, Chanyeol pressed fully inside. Baekhyun cried out, legs tightening like he wanted him buried there forever.

Chanyeol kissed down his jaw, murmuring apologies as he moved—slow at first, careful. But Baekhyun quickly lost control, meeting each thrust with desperate rolls of his hips.

“Faster,” he begged, voice breaking. “More, please!”

The alpha can't believe that he's hearing this from Baekhyun.

Chanyeol growled, pulling back only to slam in harder, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing. He pushed Baekhyun’s legs up against his shoulders, forcing him open as he drove deeper.

Baekhyun screamed when Chanyeol hit his sweet spot over and over. “Chan... It feels so good—”

Sweat dripped down Chanyeol’s temples as he leaned forward, pressing Baekhyun’s body down, thrusts turning rougher, urgent. The bed shook beneath them, Baekhyun’s sobs filling the room.

Every thrust left Baekhyun trembling, soft body arching beautifully. His flushed cheeks glistened with tears, his lips parted in broken cries, his hair damp and messy against the pillow. Chanyeol thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“You’re so perfect like this…” he groaned, kissing his damp cheeks, swollen lips.

Then he glanced down and nearly lost it, watching himself sink inside Baekhyun’s small body, slick glistening where they were joined, thighs quivering wide. Chanyeol can see himself outlined inside the omega's small stomach as he moves.

“Fuck…” he cursed, hips stuttering before thrusting harder. The sight turned him on even more.

Baekhyun’s cries rose, body clenching tight. Chanyeol whispered against his ear, rough with hunger: “You’re mine, Baekhyun.”

The words made Baekhyun cry harder, body trembling, tightening around him as if claiming him back.

Chanyeol’s orgasm built fast, Baekhyun’s too. He pulled the omega up, settling him on his lap, guiding his face to his neck.

“You need to bite me here, baby…” he rasped, pressing Baekhyun to the unmarked side.

Baekhyun moaned at the new angle, bouncing on him with Chanyeol’s guidance, every thrust deeper, harder.

“Just like that—fuck—” Chanyeol growled, hips snapping up as they both chased release.

Baekhyun shattered first, crying out as his teeth sank into Chanyeol’s neck, marking him. Chanyeol roared, spilling deep inside as he drove through the climax, hips jerking until the last drop.

The omega licked at the blood instinctively before collapsing into Chanyeol’s arms, shivering.

Chanyeol laid him down gently, kissing his blood-stained lips before exhaustion overtook Baekhyun.

“Thank you, baby…” Chanyeol whispered, voice breaking as he kissed his forehead. “Thank you for being perfect.”

---

Baekhyun sat silently at the dining table, small hands resting on the wood, his body still trembling faintly from what happened earlier. His eyes were fixed somewhere beyond the kitchen walls, blank and distant, as if he were drifting between thoughts he couldn’t quite hold onto.

Behind the counter, Chanyeol moved with practiced ease, one hand stirring the simmering soup while the other turned food in the frying pan. The smell of broth and oil filled the dim kitchen, the only sound coming from the soft hiss of the stove. The sun had not yet risen, the world outside still cloaked in silence, but Chanyeol had insisted they needed to eat. They hadn’t had a proper meal since the day before, and he wouldn’t let Baekhyun go hungry.

Chanyeol glanced over his shoulder, catching the omega’s stillness. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice low, almost cautious.

Baekhyun blinked, dragging himself back to the present. He gave the smallest of nods, though the way his fingers curled slightly against the table betrayed him. Chanyeol didn’t press, simply hummed in response and went back to stirring the soup, his broad back steady and calm.

For a while, the silence stretched. Only the sound of bubbling broth and the sizzle of meat filled the space. Baekhyun’s lips pressed into a thin line as his thoughts circled, knotted and painful. He couldn’t stop replaying the image of that second mark on Chanyeol’s skin.

Finally, he found the strength to speak, his voice fragile but firm. “Was it… Baekjin who did it?”

The question hung heavy in the air. It was obvious, but he wants to hear it anyway.

Chanyeol paused briefly before answering, a low hum leaving his throat. “Mmm.” He didn’t look back at Baekhyun, his tone short, clipped. “But it will fade soon,” he added, as if that reassurance was enough.

Baekhyun’s breath hitched, his hands curling into fists on the table. His nails dug into his palms as anger coiled beneath his ribs. Baekjin had stolen so many things from him, pieces of his life, pieces of his worth—but this time was different. This mark, this wound, was something Baekhyun couldn’t forgive. Not anymore.

He lowered his gaze, trembling not from exhaustion this time, but from the storm tightening inside his chest.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the penthouse was filled with the sound of boxes being carried in. Chanyeol frowned as one after another was set down, the staff struggling with their sheer number. When he opened them, his jaw tightened. Paintings—hundreds of them—Baekhyun’s works. His entire life before getting out of his prison. All the canvases that Baekjin had taken, returned in pristine condition.

It didn’t take long for Chanyeol to understand. Baekjin had only let go of them because he was satisfied—because he thought Chanyeol was truly bound to him, marked and sealed. The thought made Chanyeol’s stomach twist. To Baekjin, his worth had been reduced to a few painted canvases. And Chanyeol hated that more than anything. He wasn’t a bargaining chip. And Baekhyun was not someone’s possession to exchange.

“Chanyeol…” Baekhyun’s voice broke his thoughts. The omega stood by the stack of opened crates, eyes wide, lips parted. His hands trembled as he carefully pulled one painting free—an old piece he had poured his soul into years ago. His gaze softened, and for the first time in days, he smiled. “These are mine… all of them.”

Chanyeol forced his chest to unclench as Baekhyun looked at him with gratitude.

“Thank you,” Baekhyun whispered, smiling gently, his crescent eyes glowing with emotion.

Chanyeol wanted to say he hadn’t done anything—that this wasn’t thanks to him—but he swallowed the words and simply nodded. Together, they carried the canvases into the guest room, Baekhyun’s old room, where he insisted they be stored safely.

---

A few days later, an envelope embossed with gold arrived. An invitation to his parents’ wedding anniversary gala. Chanyeol held it for a long time, eyes narrowing, before deciding. This time, he wouldn’t keep Baekhyun hidden. It's time to introduce him.

Excitement burned in his chest—nervous, but sure. Baekhyun deserved to be known, to be seen by everyone, especially his parents.

So the day before the gala, Chanyeol took him to his favorite boutique. Neither of them knew what was truly appropriate for such a high-profile event, so Chanyeol left it to the staff.

Baekhyun had been pouty from the start. Every time he came out of the dressing room in another outfit, he wrinkled his nose, cheeks puffed out in protest. The staff, however, were clearly enjoying themselves—everything looked breathtaking on him.

From the VIP lounge, Chanyeol lounged with a glass of champagne, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched his omega sulk. “Smile, Baekhyuniee,” he teased, voice warm and fond. “You look pretty, baby.”

Baekhyun’s pout cracked, his lips curving into a shy grin, crescent eyes shining as he laughed softly. The staff melted on the spot.

But Chanyeol’s easy smirk vanished the moment Baekhyun stepped out again.

This time, he was dressed in a sensual black ensemble—low neckline revealing the delicate slope of his collarbone ending with an elegant knot, sheer fabric glimmering faintly over his sleeves and abdomen. The fabric clung to his waist, showing the narrow dip of his torso, while the fitted black pants framed his wide, child bearing hips.

Chanyeol’s throat went dry. His body reacted before his mind caught up, flashing back to the night he had been buried inside Baekhyun, holding those same hips as they trembled beneath him. The memory slammed into him so vividly he almost cursed out loud.

He dragged a hand through his hair, forcing his voice to remain steady. “Are you comfortable in that, love?”

Baekhyun glanced down at himself, then looked back up, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I… I like it. I feel pretty.” His voice was shy but genuine, as if he were admitting something vulnerable.

Chanyeol’s chest ached. Pretty? His mind rebelled at the word. You’re not just pretty. You’re so damn sexy I can’t stand it. I want to take you right here on this couch.

Before the thought consumed him, he stood and walked over, placing his large hands on Baekhyun’s waist to turn him toward the nearest mirror. Standing behind him, Chanyeol bent down slightly and wrapped his arms around the omega, pressing him to his chest.

The staff exchanged knowing glances and slipped out of the VIP lounge without a word, leaving them alone.

Chanyeol lowered his head, lips brushing Baekhyun’s temple as he whispered, voice rough but tender, “You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on, Baekhyunie. I love you.”

Baekhyun leaned back into him, eyes softening in the reflection. His blush deepened, but he didn’t shy away—he let himself rest against Chanyeol’s chest, small smile tugging his lips as Chanyeol pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

---

After Baekhyun’s painting lesson, Chanyeol was waiting in the car like usual, scrolling absently on his phone, expecting to see his omega bounce out of the studio with that glowing excitement he always carried after class.

But when the door opened, Baekhyun wasn’t alone. His teacher was walking beside him, speaking softly, and Baekhyun’s brows were slightly furrowed in thought.

Chanyeol’s chest tightened immediately. Something must have happened. Without another second’s hesitation, he shoved the door open and got out, striding quickly toward them. His hand instinctively found Baekhyun’s waist, pulling him protectively close as his eyes flicked to the teacher.

“What’s wrong?” His voice came out sharper than he meant, but his worry overpowered everything else.

The teacher blinked in surprise before smiling warmly at him. “Oh, Mr. Park, it’s nothing bad. I was just telling Baekhyunie that his painting got sold.”

Chanyeol froze, blinking. “Oh…” He turned to look at Baekhyun, wide-eyed, then broke into a smile. “Congrats on your first sold painting, Baekhyunie.” Chanyeol is glad he opened a bank account for Baekhyun for this. Sooner or later his husband will learn how to manage his own money and Chanyeol's too since the alpha is willing to give all his weath to Baekhyun.

The omega’s lips curved shyly, eyes flickering up at him before softening, his smile small but genuine.

“The thing is,” the teacher continued, “the client asked if the artist had more works for sale. They want a similar vibe for their new business building.”

Chanyeol’s grin widened at the news, his chest swelling with pride. But he quickly steadied himself, polite as ever. “That’s wonderful. But we’ll have to talk about it first. It’ll be Baekhyun’s decision if he wants to sell any of his other works.”

Instead of heading straight home, Chanyeol took Baekhyun to Kyungsoo’s coffee shop for lunch. The omega lit up seeing the familiar place, and Kyungsoo ushered them in with his usual blunt fussing, bringing them extra plates without being asked.

Since they needed to prepare for the gala later that evening, Kyungsoo offered them his office for privacy. Luhan arrived not long after, armed with makeup brushes and an eager smile. The omega had insisted—he wanted to do Baekhyun's makeup.

Luhan is coming too anyway. Since his mate is actually Chanyeol's cousin, they were also invited.

Luhan worked on Baekhyun with sharp precision and gentle teasing, complimenting every feature he touched. Chanyeol sat nearby, sipping his coffee, occasionally glaring when Luhan made Baekhyun laugh too much. The omegas' chuckle echoed in the room. What a beautiful sight.

Kyungsoo, invited to the gala as a long-time family friend, waved his hand when asked if he would join them. “Not a chance. My mate’s abroad, and I’m not wasting an evening surrounded by those people alone. Go enjoy yourselves. I’ll keep the café warm.”

By the time Luhan finished fussing, it was almost six in the evening. Baekhyun looked radiant, his natural beauty softened and highlighted in ways that made Chanyeol’s chest ache.

Luhan had put a black choker on Baekhyun's pretty neck. It sat beautifully just above his mark.

Finally, Chanyeol took his omega’s hand and led him out, driving toward the Park residence where the gala awaited.

The Park residence glowed with opulence that evening, its wide ballroom already filled with polished businessmen, their jeweled spouses, and the gentle hum of classical music. It was more than just a wedding anniversary—it was also the Park Corporation’s celebration, and everyone important in the business world seemed to be there.

Chanyeol entered with Baekhyun by his side, hand warm and steady at the omega’s waist. Baekhyun’s steps were small, his doe eyes wide as they swept over the crowd. For a moment, Chanyeol only focused on the way his omega clung to him—silent, nervous, but so breathtaking under the lights.

They reached his parents near the front, surrounded by guests offering congratulations. Chanyeol leaned forward, kissing his mother’s cheek and embracing his father firmly. “Congratulations on your anniversary,” he said warmly, genuine pride in his voice.

“Ah, thank you, son,” his father replied, clapping his shoulder. His mother smiled too, but her gaze quickly slid past Chanyeol to the smaller figure standing half-hidden beside him.

Her eyes softened as if recognizing someone familiar. “Nice to see you, Baekjinie,” she said kindly.

Baekhyun stiffened, eyes dropping instantly to the floor. His breath hitched, shame and unease tightening his chest. Before the sting could settle too deep, Chanyeol’s arm pulled him close, firm and protective, his voice low but clear.

“Mom, Dad—this is not Baekjin,” he corrected, eyes steady on them. “This is Byun Baekhyun Park. My husband.”

The words rang in the air, sharp enough to still the couple. His parents froze, confusion flickering across their faces. For a moment, silence threatened to stretch—but before anyone could react further, another group of guests approached with cheerful greetings.

Chanyeol offered his parents a quick, apologetic smile. “I’ll explain later. I promise.” Then he turned to Baekhyun, softening immediately. “Our gift is in the car. The staff should be bringing it in.” His smile was calm, meant only for his omega.

With that, he guided Baekhyun away from the cluster of guests, weaving them through the crowd until they reached the VIP table prepared for him. The noise of the party seemed distant there, but Baekhyun’s expression hadn’t eased—his lips pressed tight, brows drawn, worry written all over his face.

Chanyeol squeezed his hand, leaning closer so only Baekhyun could hear. “Don’t be scared, love. I’ll explain everything. They’ll like you—I promise.”

His gaze was steady, unwavering, carrying all the reassurance Baekhyun needed. Slowly, the omega nodded, though his hands still trembled faintly in Chanyeol’s grip.

The ballroom had shifted into its calmer phase. After the speeches and recognition awards, the music turned softer, giving way to relaxed chatter among businessmen and their families. Glasses clinked, laughter rippled, and the hum of deals being discussed filled the space.

Chanyeol’s father beckoned him over, eager to introduce his son to a group of foreign investors. Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun’s temple before stepping just a few paces away, still within reach of his omega’s sight. But to Baekhyun, every second without his alpha’s hand felt like an eternity. His fingers fidgeted against the tablecloth, his gaze darting across the crowd, searching desperately for Luhan or Sehun. They were nowhere to be found.

Then—his heart froze.

At the entrance, Mrs. Byun glided into the hall, her jewelry catching the light, her smile polished as she greeted acquaintances. At her side was Baekjin, glowing with smug pride, his hand resting on his rounded stomach.

Baekhyun’s chest tightened, panic spiking in his veins. He couldn’t breathe. Baekjin’s eyes swept the crowd until they landed on Chanyeol. His lips curved into a sly smirk—only to falter when he saw Baekhyun seating in one of the VIP tables.

The twins locked eyes. For one breath, the world stopped. Then Baekjin’s smirk vanished into a scowl as he marched forward.

“What are you doing here?” His voice cut sharp, his chin lifted high as if he owned the place.

Baekhyun forced himself to stand, his legs trembling. He glanced at Chanyeol—but his alpha was trapped in polite conversation, three businessmen circling him, their attention unrelenting. Before Baekhyun could move closer, Baekjin stepped in front of him, blocking Chanyeol’s view.

“I’m invited…” Baekhyun’s voice was soft, but steady.

“I am invited, not you.” Baekjin’s words dripped venom. “I am Chanyeol’s husband in the eyes of these people. So you should leave before I drag you out myself.”

Baekhyun’s eyes flickered down to Baekjin’s baby bump, then back up to the fury twisting his twin’s face. Heat flooded him—anger, betrayal, defiance. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Chanyeol wanted him here. Chanyeol loved him.

“I won’t leave.” His voice came firm this time, unshaken.

Baekjin blinked, startled for a moment. Never before had Baekhyun dared to oppose him. Frustration quickly warped into laughter—dark, mocking. “You pathetic thing. I said get out.” His hand shot out, fingers clamping down on Baekhyun’s small arm, trying to yank him away.

But Baekhyun’s fury boiled over. He grab his brother’s hand off, chest heaving, the memory of Baekjin’s treachery—the stolen mark, the humiliation—igniting his rage.

“I said no!”

Before Baekjin could react, Baekhyun’s hand shot up, gripping his twin’s hair in a vice. His fingers curled so tightly that Baekjin bent forward with a startled scream, forced into an awkward bow, his small bump prominent as he staggered.

“Let go of me, you bitch!” Baekjin screeched, his voice cracking with panic. Guests turned, gasps rising across the room. Confusion flickered in every pair of eyes—two identical faces, both omegas, but only one bent low, shrieking while the other stood firm, hand locked in his twin’s hair.

“I said let go!!” Baekjin screamed again, clawing at Baekhyun’s wrist.

Baekhyun’s face remained steady, his grip unrelenting. His voice came low, filled with a cold, raw finality.

“No.”

Chapter Text

Chanyeol finally noticed what was happening and rushed forward, pulling Baekhyun away just as Mrs. Byun stumbled in to rescue Baekjin. She clutched her son protectively, then grabbing Baekhyun's arm that is gripping his brother's hair.

“You ungrateful brat!” Mrs. Byun spat, shielding Baekjin with her arms. “How dare you lay a hand on your brother—on your pregnant brother!”

Baekjin managed to sit up, his head tilted from Baekhyun’s grip. His face was flushed and streaked with tears; he sneered through a broken sob, clinging to his mother for balance. “Pathetic bitch. No wonder no one wants you. You ruin everything you touch—” His voice cracked but the venom remained. “Mom, help me… get him away from me!”

Mrs. Byun hold her son protectively, hissing over his head. “How dare you to hurt him, Baekhyun. Look at you—feral, disgusting. Attacking your own blood like some street rat.”

Baekjin, sobbing now, still tried to twist the knife. “You’re nothing compared to me. Nothing. Even now, you’re just embarrassing yourself—let go of my hair you bitch!”

Baekhyun trembled, his fists still curled harder on Baekjin’s hair, refusing to let go. Chanyeol wrapped his arms around Baekhyun, shielding him with his tall body. His voice was calm but firm, “Baekhyun, hey love, let go. I’ve got you. It's okay, let go please...”

At that moment, Mr. and Mrs. Park entered, alarm clear on their faces. They froze at the scene—the twin omegas locked in conflict, Mrs. Byun’s sharp words still hanging in the air, and Chanyeol holding one brother protectively while the other clung to his mother.

Baekhyun’s grip finally loosened. His whole body shook as he collapsed into Chanyeol’s chest, his voice breaking apart. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… please don’t be mad at me.”

Chanyeol only hugged him tighter, lowering his head to kiss Baekhyun’s damp hair. “I’m not mad. Never at you. It’s okay, Baekhyun. It’s okay to be angry sometimes.”

Behind them, Mrs. Byun fussed over Baekjin, who was still crying and cursing under his breath, while Mr. and Mrs. Park immediately shifted to make sure the pregnant omega was unharmed.

But Chanyeol ignored it all. He guided Baekhyun out of the party quietly, shielding him from every glance.

Baekhyun clung to him, tears soaking his chest, refusing to let go as though he’d vanish if he loosened his grip. And Chanyeol carried him steadily through the estate until they reached the quiet safety upstairs, away from all the noise, all the venom.

---

After finally getting Baekhyun to rest, Chanyeol tucked him beneath the blankets, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. He lingered there for a moment, watching his mate’s exhausted face soften into sleep, before quietly leaving the room.

Downstairs, the music had faded, the last of the guests gone. The Park estate was hushed, save for the faint clinking of glasses being cleared away. In the living room, Mr. and Mrs. Park were waiting for him, their expressions heavy with unspoken questions.

Chanyeol sank onto the sofa, shoulders heavy with the weight of what had just unfolded. His mother’s voice was soft but firm.
“Chanyeol… what was that earlier? Baekjin—Baekhyun… are they really twins?”

Chanyeol closed his eyes briefly, then nodded. His voice was hoarse, almost breaking before he even began.
“Yes. They’re twins. But there’s more to it…”

And so he told them everything. How Mrs. Byun had tricked their family—when Baekjin disappeared the night before the wedding, she pushed Baekhyun forward in his place. How the marriage had been forced through for the sake of the merger, the contract signed with deception.

“I went to return him,” Chanyeol admitted, his hands tightening into fists. “I went to their house to return him. But, Mom, Dad—he was…” His voice faltered. “…he was beaten and humiliated in front of him. His mother hit him, called him names, all because I discovered he wasn’t Baekjin on the wedding night.. How could I not found out? Baekjin was my lover, I knew him. Baekhyun is an innocent bait." Chanyeol paused to breathe. "He was terrified, broken. They kept him inside like a caged dog. He was... deprived of love since he was little.”

Chanyeol’s eyes glistened as he fought to breathe steadily. “I couldn’t just leave him there. How could I? So I brought him back to my place.”

Mrs. Park’s hand moved instinctively, resting over her son’s trembling one. He leaned into her warmth, taking a shaky breath before continuing.

“Mom… Baekhyun isn’t a bad person. He’s the purest, most innocent soul I’ve ever met. He didn’t even know anything else besides painting until I took him out for the first time. Do you know—” His voice cracked, tears spilling freely now. “Do you know he cried when I bought him shoes? He’d never even owned a pair before.”

Mrs. Park gasped softly, covering her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears.

Chanyeol turned his gaze to his father then, his voice low but unwavering. “We… we fell in love. We bonded like real mates, like a real married couple. Please, don’t make me leave him. He has no one else in this world. I am all he has left.”

The silence was thick, broken only by Chanyeol’s uneven breaths. Pity softened Mr. Park’s stern expression, and when Chanyeol’s mother pulled her son into her arms, she was already crying. Her son is an alpha, so she never expect this emotion from Chanyeol.

“My poor boy,” she whispered, holding him close. “My poor, poor boy… and that poor child too.”

Chanyeol clung to her, shoulders trembling, as the weight of everything he’d been carrying finally broke free in the safety of her embrace.

Mr. Park leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. For a long while, he said nothing, and the silence stretched heavy across the room. His sharp, calculating eyes—the same ones that had built an empire and cut down rivals—were fixed on his son.

“You know what this looks like, don’t you, Chanyeol?” His tone was even, almost cold. “The Byuns tricked us. They married their hidden son into our family to save face, and in doing so, they made fools of us. If this ever reached the boardrooms, our enemies would call us blind and careless.”

Mrs. Park turned sharply toward her husband. “He’s talking about his mate, not mergers—”

But Mr. Park raised a hand to silence her, his gaze never leaving Chanyeol’s. His voice softened, though his words still carried weight. “And yet… here you are, asking me not to treat this as betrayal, but as fate. I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him. Not even when you were young and reckless.”

He exhaled slowly, and for once, the steel in his eyes gave way to something more human. A father, not a CEO.

“When you said, ‘I am the only one he has,’ it struck me, son. Because for the first time, I realize… this isn’t about alliances or contracts anymore. It’s about you choosing who you want to protect, even if the world sees it as weakness.”

His jaw tightened, but he nodded, almost to himself. “If Baekhyun is truly your husband, then he is family. And family, Chanyeol, is not something I’ll discard for profit.”

Chanyeol swallowed hard, his voice low but steady. “Thank you, Dad… I don’t know how to repay you for standing by us.”

Mr. Park gave a curt nod. “If the Byuns built their empire on lies, then we’ll cut ties clean. Shipping, hotels, every partnership—we’ll pull out. They’ll feel it.” His tone was clipped, ruthless. Then he leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “But, Chanyeol…”

Chanyeol straightened.

“You got Baekjin pregnant.” The words landed like a blade.

Silence pressed down on the room. Mrs. Park’s hand tightened on her son’s arm.

Chanyeol shook his head firmly. “It’s not mine.”

Mr. Park’s brows furrowed, but Chanyeol held steady. “Baekjin already had another lover. He only used me as cover, and when I refused to play along, he tried to claim me by force. The child isn’t mine.”

Mrs. Park gasped again when she noticed the faint mark on Chanyeol’s lower neck, and another on the opposite side, as she held her son’s shoulder to turn him toward her. "Did he force this on you, Chanyeol?"

"It doesn’t matter, Mom. It’s going to fade soon, since my bond with Baekhyun is stronger."

Mr. Park leaned back, fingers steepled. For a long moment, he studied his son in silence. “So, is this going to affect your mate, whatever happens to the Byuns?"

"Baekhyun doesn’t have good memories with them, except that he once mentioned his father secretly supported his painting hobby when he was a child."

Mr Park nod. "Mr Byun, is managing their business abroad, so he should be fine. These business merger is the one supporting his wife's luxury... We’ll withdraw everything,” he declared. “Contracts, investments—every tie. I’ll see them collapse under the weight of their own greed. If they thought they could strengthen themselves by sacrificing one son and hiding the other, they’ve underestimated what it means to cross this family.”

Mrs. Park reached for Chanyeol’s hand, her touch gentle, reassuring.

Mr. Park’s tone cut final and resolute. “The Byuns will pay. You protect your husband. Leave the rest to me.”

Chanyeol bowed his head, his throat tight. “Thank you, Dad.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Chanyeol and Baekhyun descended the grand staircase slowly, the omega still clinging to his alpha’s side. Baekhyun’s head was lowered, his steps hesitant, shame still heavy in his chest.

“Your parents will hate me…” he murmured, voice fragile, the memory of last night’s scene replaying in his mind.

Chanyeol paused, his arm firm around him. “They don’t hate you, Baekhyun. They’re not mad.” He tilted his mate’s chin up gently, eyes steady. “If anything, they’re excited to finally know you, as my husband, their son-in-law.”

Baekhyun’s eyes flickered, doubt softening into fragile hope. “Really?”

“Really.” Chanyeol leaned down, pressing a tender kiss against the mark on Baekhyun’s neck, as if sealing the reassurance into his skin. With that, he guided him forward, and together they stepped into the dining hall.

Mrs. Park was carefully adjusting her husband’s tie, her hands moving with practiced ease. They both turned when Chanyeol entered with Baekhyun by his side.

“Good morning,” Mr. Park greeted, his voice brisk yet warm. “I won’t be joining breakfast today—I have a client meeting, so I’ll head out first.”

Before leaving, he stepped closer, giving Chanyeol a firm tap on the shoulder. Then, with surprising fondness, he reached out and patted Baekhyun’s head as though he were a beloved puppy.

“Good morning, Baekhyun,” he said quickly, his lips curling into a laugh when Baekhyun responded with a crescent-eyed smile that seemed to light up the room.

Glancing between them, Mr. Park chuckled again. “Chanyeol, your omega is so small—you need to feed him more.”

Chanyeol stiffened, his ears tinting red at his father’s teasing tone, while Mr. Park laughed heartily at his son’s reaction before striding out the door, his amusement still echoing through the hall.

Chanyeol turned to his mother with a faint scowl and muttered, “I’m just huge. That’s why Baekhyun looks so small.”

Mrs. Park only gave him a knowing smile before gesturing toward the table. “Sit down, both of you,” she said, her tone warm yet firm.

She began setting out her breakfast dishes with deliberate care, arranging the side plates so everything was within easy reach. When Baekhyun hesitated, she leaned forward and placed portions on his plate herself, fussing over him as she spoke.

“So, Baekhyun,” she asked brightly, “how are your painting lessons going? I heard a company is interested in buying some of your other works.”

Still shy under the attention, Baekhyun lowered his gaze to his plate. He picked delicately at his food, glancing at Chanyeol for reassurance before answering in a soft, almost hesitant voice.

“I… I want to sell them,” he admitted carefully, his tone so small and omega-like that it warmed Mrs. Park’s heart.

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Once you start selling, your works will be exposed to more clients. Who knows—you might even get famous one day, Baekhyunie.”

Baekhyun blinked, nibbling at his lip, clearly overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. His eyes drifted toward Chanyeol again, silently seeking help.

Chanyeol leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on Baekhyun. “I don’t want you to get famous, though,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you exposed to the media. I want you just for myself.” His eyes softened with the words.

“But Chan… I’m yours,” Baekhyun whispered.

Chanyeol chuckled, the sound rich and warm.

Mrs. Park beamed at the two of them, clearly delighted by how naturally they leaned on each other.

---

Luhan was practically squealing as he leaned across the table, excitement spilling out of him. He, Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo were having a late lunch at Kyungsoo’s cozy café that afternoon. Chanyeol had dropped Baekhyun off earlier—he had errands to run at the company for his father—so now Baekhyun sat with a strawberry shake in hand, quietly sipping while Kyungsoo grinned at Luhan’s animated storytelling.

“I arrived late, but I saw him gripping his brother’s hair before Chanyeol ripped them apart!” Luhan said dramatically, his hands flying in the air as though he were reenacting the scene.

Baekhyun’s face turned bright red at the mention, and Kyungsoo quickly offered him a reassuring smile. “I’m so proud of you, Baekhyunie,” he said warmly.

“But, hyung… that’s bad,” Baekhyun mumbled, his pretty face pouting as he stirred his shake with the straw.

“Yes, but sometimes, it’s alright to do bad things to bad people,” Luhan replied with a roll of his eyes.

Baekhyun lowered his gaze, guilt weighing on his features. “I was just so mad, I couldn’t stop myself. And I felt sorry for Baekjinie… he’s pregnant, and he got hurt.”

“He’s okay, Baek. I’m sure of it,” Kyungsoo reassured, his voice calm and steady. Then he added knowingly, “Maybe you’re close to your next heat—that’s why your emotions feel so strong these days.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened, the tips of his ears burning pink, which only made Luhan smirk in delight.

“Ohhh… interesting,” Luhan drawled. “Is Chanyeol going to help you this time, Baekhyunie?”

Baekhyun blinked, his confused expression bouncing between the two older omegas. To his horror, even Kyungsoo was smirking now.

“They clearly haven’t talked about it yet,” Kyungsoo said with a laugh, shaking his head.

“If you want your alpha to help you, make sure to tell him in advance, Baekhyunie,” Kyungsoo advised gently, though his tone carried the weight of experience. “You know how stubborn Chanyeol can be. His self-control is through the roof, so he might not help you at all unless you gave him permission in advance. So again—make sure to tell him.”

Baekhyun ducked his head, his fingers twisting around the straw of his shake.

“And if Chanyeol’s rut comes first?” Luhan chimed in with a mischievous smirk. “Are you going to help him?”

Baekhyun’s face burned, but after a hesitant pause, he gave the smallest of nods.

“Oh my god, our Baekhyunie is so brave,” Luhan squealed, clapping his hands dramatically. “Alright, then—I’ll give you some advice on how to tame an alpha in rut.”

Kyungsoo immediately shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass, silently warning him to keep his words appropriate. Luhan only grinned wider and leaned closer to Baekhyun, lowering his voice as though he were sharing a secret.

“First of all, don’t be scared if he gets rough,” Luhan began, eyes glinting with mischief. “Ruts make alphas lose control, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get hurt if you know what to do.”

Baekhyun blinked nervously, clutching his straw tighter.

“If he pushes too hard, don’t fight him. Wrap your arms around him and pull him closer—it’ll ground him, remind him you’re not afraid.”

Baekhyun’s face instantly flamed red.

“Luhan,” Kyungsoo warned flatly, giving him a sharp glare.

Ignoring him, Luhan leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “If he starts thrusting too roughly, just move your hips and set your own pace. That way he’ll follow your rhythm without even realizing it.”

Baekhyun squeaked, burying half his face in his hands.

“And if he bites or growls, don’t panic. Touch him—neck, back, anywhere—and whisper his name. Alphas in rut are sensitive to their omega’s voice. You’ll calm him faster than anything else that way.”

Kyungsoo sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Luhan, enough. He’s going to pass out from embarrassment.”

But Luhan only grinned wider, clearly enjoying the way Baekhyun was squirming in his seat, pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

“I’m just making sure our Baekhyunie survives,” Luhan teased, patting Baekhyun’s hand. “Besides… he’ll thank me later.”

Baekhyun groaned, hiding his burning face in his palms while Kyungsoo muttered under his breath about finding new friends.

The café door chimed open, and Baekhyun nearly jumped out of his seat. His heart skipped when he saw Chanyeol’s tall frame fill the doorway, his presence immediately drawing every eye in the small shop.

Chanyeol spotted him at once, his lips curving into a small smile as he strode over. “Baek,” he greeted warmly, before his eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of his flushed cheeks. “Why is my omega so red?”

Baekhyun froze, clutching his glass like it might save him, while Luhan and Kyungsoo burst into laughter across the table.

“It’s a secret,” Luhan sang, winking exaggeratedly.

“Yup, definitely a secret,” Kyungsoo added, grinning as Baekhyun groaned and tried to sink into his seat.

Chanyeol arched a brow at the two omegas, suspicion flickering in his gaze. He clearly wanted answers, but with both of them smirking like devils, he knew he wouldn’t get any. His gaze softened when it landed back on Baekhyun, who was pink from head to toe, practically trembling with embarrassment.

“Baekhyun,” he said quietly, extending his hand. “Say goodbye to them.”

Baekhyun bit his lip, quickly gathering his things before mumbling a flustered, “Bye, hyungs…” His voice was so soft it made Luhan squeal again.

Chanyeol’s hand found the small of his back as he guided him toward the door, his tall figure shielding Baekhyun protectively. He cast one last look over his shoulder, brow still arched at the two omegas who were practically choking on their laughter.

When the door shut behind them, Kyungsoo leaned back with a sigh. “He’s going to grill Baekhyun about this the whole ride home.”

“And Baekhyunie’s going to die of embarrassment,” Luhan cackled, clearly proud of himself.

The ride started in silence, the soft hum of the engine filling the space between them. Baekhyun sat stiffly in the passenger seat, clutching the strap of his fluffy bag, his cheeks still red from earlier.

Chanyeol glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a smile tugging at his lips. “You know,” he began casually, “you were so red in there, I thought maybe you had a fever.”

Baekhyun shook his head quickly, eyes darting to the window. “I-I don’t.”

“Mm.” Chanyeol hummed thoughtfully, his tone teasing. “Then maybe you’ll tell me why? Because Kyungsoo and Luhan seemed very entertained. And you couldn’t even look at me.”

Baekhyun let out a tiny groan, covering half his face with his hand. “It’s embarrassing, Chan…”

That only made Chanyeol grin wider. His hand slipped from the gearshift to rest on Baekhyun’s thigh, his thumb stroking gently. “Tell me anyway. Or I’ll just call them later and ask.”

Baekhyun’s head whipped toward him, eyes wide with panic. “No! Don’t you dare!”

Chanyeol chuckled, the sound rich and amused. “Then tell me yourself. What did they say to make you turn that red?”

Baekhyun squirmed, lips pressing together as if holding back the words physically. His pulse raced under his skin, his whole body burning. Finally, in the smallest voice—

“They… gave me advice. For your rut.”

Chanyeol’s brows rose in surprise, but instead of teasing, his lips curved into a softer smile. He glanced at Baekhyun’s flushed face, then back to the road, chuckling quietly to himself. His omega was adorable like this—so shy, so red, yet still honest with him.

The car fell into a quiet stretch, Baekhyun fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His heart thumped against his ribs as he gathered the courage to speak again.

“Chan…” His voice trembled, soft but clear. “If my heat comes… I want you to help me.”

Chanyeol’s hands tightened just slightly on the wheel before he nodded, his voice calm and steady, almost like they were discussing the weather.

“Of course. Thank you for giving your consent in advance.”

Baekhyun turned toward him, lips parting at the casualness of the answer, his face heating all over again.

Chanyeol only smiled faintly, eyes still on the road, though the corners of his lips curved like he was holding back laughter. His thumb brushed over Baekhyun’s thigh once more, a silent reassurance.

---

Breaking headlines flashed across the television screens and online portals:

“The Park Conglomerate Officially Ends Partnership with the Byun Corporation”

The anchor’s voice carried weight as images rolled of boardrooms and documents being signed off. “In a shocking move that has shaken the business sector, the Parks have announced the immediate withdrawal of all investments, partnerships, and joint ventures with the Byun family. Sources say the decision was made final late last night, though the reasons remain undisclosed.”

The camera then cut to the front of the Byun estate, where a crowd of reporters swarmed Mrs. Byun as she stepped out of her car in her elegant suit. Microphones were shoved toward her face, flashes exploding in rapid succession.

“Mrs. Byun! Is it true the Parks have completely severed ties with your family?”

“Does this have to do with the rumored conflict between your son Baekjin and Park Chanyeol?”

“Mrs. Byun, is it true your son's pregnancy is not connected to the Park heir? Is that why the Parks cut relations?”

The woman’s face stiffened, her carefully composed expression beginning to crack. She refused to slow her pace, clutching her designer bag tightly as she pushed forward.

“Mrs. Byun! Please clarify—did the Parks find out something about Baekjin?”

The barrage of questions grew louder, cameras chasing her across the pavement. Finally, as one reporter shouted—

“Is it true Baekjin’s baby isn’t Park Chanyeol’s?”

—Mrs. Byun froze for half a second, her lips parting but no words leaving. Her cheeks reddened with humiliation, and in the next breath she shoved past the microphones and rushed into her waiting car. The door slammed shut, leaving the reporters shouting outside while the cameras captured every second of her escape.

The news anchor’s voice returned over the footage: “Neither the Park nor Byun families have issued an official statement regarding the rumors. However, the silence from the Byun matriarch today has only fueled speculation in both business and social circles.”

Chapter Text

The deal went smoother than Baekhyun expected. More than twenty paintings—his heart still fluttered every time he repeated the number in his head. When the representative from the company shook his hand and finalized the agreement, Baekhyun almost couldn’t breathe, his chest too full. And right beside him, Chanyeol’s presence was steady and grounding, a warm palm at the small of his back as if silently telling him, I told you so. You can do this.

Afterwards, as they walked out of the building, Baekhyun tried to contain his excitement, cheeks pink from the crisp air. “I… I have my own money now,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“You do,” Chanyeol agreed with a proud smile, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “But you can still use my black card for anything you want. Your money will be your savings, okay?”

Baekhyun nod his head. “But I don’t want anything.”

Chanyeol arched a brow. “That’s a lie. Winter is coming, and you don’t even have proper clothes. Let's shop to celebrate your big sold today.”

Before Baekhyun could protest, he was already being guided toward the mall. And soon enough, the protest melted away.

Inside the boutique, Baekhyun forgot about everything else—forgot about fear, even his lingering shyness. His eyes lit up as he moved between racks, touching fabrics, holding up coats and scarves with a bright flush on his cheeks. For once, he didn’t hesitate. He picked what he liked, piling items into Chanyeol’s arms until he stood there grinning, buried under sweaters, coats, and scarves.

Chanyeol’s heart swelled at the sight. This is how it should be, he thought. Baekhyun wasn’t timidly waiting for permission anymore. He was choosing for himself, and Chanyeol couldn’t stop smiling.

When they finally stepped out of the boutique, Chanyeol was carrying five large paper bags, his long arms straining slightly under the weight. Baekhyun laughed softly at the sight, but before he could suggest heading home, Chanyeol was already leading him down the familiar path to the shoe store.

Baekhyun blinked in surprise. “I still have the pair you bought me… it’s still good, see?” He lifted his foot, showing the shoes that looked nearly new, well-cared for and polished.

“I know,” Chanyeol said warmly, bending a little to look. “But it’s time for more. You need winter boots, and maybe some casual ones too. Go on—choose.”

Baekhyun pouted, lips pressing together as though he was too tired to argue, but Chanyeol just grinned and waved over a staff member to help. Soon, Baekhyun was seated, trying on pair after pair—soft leather boots, sneakers, and sleek loafers. Each time he hesitated, Chanyeol encouraged him to take them, until Baekhyun ended up with four new pairs stacked neatly into boxes.

By the time they left the store, Baekhyun’s pout had returned, though his cheeks were pink with amusement. “You’re treating me like I’m a child,” he mumbled.

Chanyeol chuckled, shifting the bags into one arm so he could reach out and ruffle Baekhyun’s hair. “Then be a spoiled one, just this once.”

At the counter earlier, Chanyeol had insisted Baekhyun use the black card himself. Watching Baekhyun’s eyes widen as the machine beeped and the receipt printed, he had to bite back a laugh. Baekhyun stared at the slip of paper like it was magic, lips curving into a soft smile of disbelief.

They ended the outing with lunch at a cozy restaurant, Baekhyun quiet as he ate, gaze wandering now and then to the bags stacked by the table. Chanyeol, across from him, leaned back in his chair, content just watching his omega glow.

For once, the world outside didn’t matter.

---

After his painting lesson, Baekhyun walked out to find Chanyeol waiting by the car, tall and reassuring as always. The ride was quiet, and soon they were in Chanyeol’s office, where the alpha spread takeout containers across his desk like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Baekhyun picked at his food more than he ate, his mind elsewhere. Snippets of reporters’ voices he’d overheard outside the building still echoed in his ears. Finally, he set down his chopsticks and turned to the alpha beside him.

“Chan…” his voice was soft, uncertain. “Is my mom and Baekjin gonna be okay? They… they won’t hurt Baekjin’s baby, right?”

Chanyeol froze mid-bite, chopsticks hanging in the air. He hadn’t expected that question. Slowly, he put his food down, turning to his omega. Baekhyun’s shoulders were tight, his lips pressed together like he’d been holding back his worry all evening.

With a sigh, Chanyeol slid closer, his large hands gently massaging Baekhyun’s tense shoulders. The omega flinched at first, then slowly melted into his touch.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Chanyeol murmured, lowering his voice so it wrapped around Baekhyun like a blanket. “Nobody will hurt them. We just withdrew the investments and ended the partnership with your family’s business here in Seoul. There’ll be a huge impact in the market, sure, but that only means less luxury for them. It’s not… it’s not violence. No one’s going to be harmed.”

Baekhyun’s lashes lowered, a crease forming on his forehead as he listened.

“And Baekjin won’t be modeling for a while, not while he’s pregnant,” Chanyeol added gently. “But after he gives birth, he’ll get offers again. Trust me, your family is wealthy—they’ll still have enough to live on.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly, but his lips trembled before he whispered, “If they don’t have money, Chan, I can… I can give them the money from my sold paintings. And I’ll sell more of my works if it’s not enough. I… I don’t want them to get hungry.”

His voice cracked on the last word, so small and earnest it made Chanyeol’s chest ache.

“Oh…” Chanyeol’s heart clenched painfully, his eyes softening as he stared at his precious omega. The very family that had cast him aside, who had locked him away like he was a burden—and yet here Baekhyun was, still worried for them, still kind enough to want to provide.

“Nobody’s gonna get hungry, Baek,” Chanyeol promised, his voice thick with emotion. He pressed a kiss to Baekhyun’s temple, lingering there, breathing him in. “I swear to you, they’ll still have enough. They won’t suffer. Not in that way.”

Then, pulling back slightly, he chuckled low, warmth breaking through the heaviness. “You’re too kind for your own good, love.” He kissed the top of Baekhyun’s head again and held him close, adoring him even more for his selflessness.

After finishing their lunch, Chanyeol crumpled the empty takeout containers and tossed them into the bin, while Baekhyun quietly gathered the disposable chopsticks and napkins, setting the table back in order. It didn’t take long before everything was clean again, and Chanyeol returned to his desk to skim a few documents before his meeting.

By the time he looked back, Baekhyun had already curled up on the office couch, his strawberry-sweet scent soft in the air as he drifted into a deep sleep.

When Chanyeol left for the board meeting with his father, he couldn’t help glancing at the omega one last time, making sure he was tucked beneath a spare blanket.

Hours later, when he returned, Baekhyun was still in the same position—breathing steady, lashes resting against his cheeks. Chanyeol paused at the door, his chest tightening. He really does sleep a lot these days… Even over the weekend, Baekhyun had barely finished half a painting before dozing off again on the couch.

Moving quietly, Chanyeol crouched beside him, brushing a hand through the omega’s soft hair before pressing a kiss to his cheek. The familiar strawberry scent filled his lungs as he inhaled, grounding him.

“Let’s go home, love,” he whispered.

Baekhyun stirred, his brows knitting together as his lips parted. His eyes blinked open only halfway, glossy with sleepiness, his lashes damp as if tears had pooled while he slept. He gave a little whimper and stretched his arms toward his alpha.

“Chan…” his voice was small, childlike, making Chanyeol’s heart squeeze.

Without hesitation, Chanyeol leaned down, letting Baekhyun’s arms wrap around his neck. He slipped an arm under the omega’s knees and another around his back, lifting him effortlessly.

“Come on, sweetheart. Up we go,” he murmured, pressing his lips to Baekhyun’s temple.

Baekhyun’s eyes closed again immediately, body limp against him. Chanyeol sighed and reached for his phone, calling his secretary to ready the car.

When they stepped into the hallway, whispers erupted among the employees. Heads turned, conversations paused. But instead of annoyance, Chanyeol only smiled. Finally, he thought. They see the truth. My husband isn’t Baekjin—it’s Baekhyun.

And it made sense to them now. Baekhyun’s soft features, his kindness, the way he looked fragile and sweet compared to his brother’s sharp arrogance—it all clicked into place.

Chanyeol carried him straight out of the building, ignoring the stares, and drove home carefully, one hand steady on the wheel while his gaze flicked often to the omega sleeping beside him.

When they arrived, he didn’t even think twice. He lifted Baekhyun again and carried him through the penthouse, straight to their bedroom. The omega barely stirred as Chanyeol laid him down gently on the bed, tucking the blanket up to his chin.

For a long moment, Chanyeol just stood there, watching the rise and fall of Baekhyun’s chest, his lips parting in a soft sigh of sleep.

After settling Baekhyun under the blanket, Chanyeol lingered at the bedside. He couldn’t help it—his eyes traced over every delicate line of his omega’s face, the curve of his lashes, the soft pout of his lips. His chest rose and fell with the kind of unguarded peace only sleep could bring, and for a moment, Chanyeol just stood there, drinking him in.

His gaze drifted lower, to the way Baekhyun’s small frame looked swallowed by the sheets. So tiny. So breakable. And mine.

A flicker of heat stirred in him before he could stop it, memory pulling him back to the last time they’d been intimate together in bed.

Baekhyun arching beneath him, voice breaking on a plea that had made Chanyeol’s entire body tremble.
The way his thighs trembled, gripping Chanyeol’s hips tighter, his nails scratching faint pink trails down his back.
The sight of his flushed skin, his pretty mouth falling open as he begged, “More.. please.”

Chanyeol’s throat went dry, his pants suddenly feeling a little too tight. He could almost hear Baekhyun’s sweet whimpers again, smell the thickened strawberry-sweet scent that had driven him nearly insane.

He dragged a hand over his face, shaking his head.
Damn it… What’s wrong with me?

This wasn’t the time. Baekhyun was asleep, exhausted, and he—he was supposed to be in control. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to step back from the bed.

I’m just stressed. That’s all. Too much work, too many meetings, and not enough sleep. That’s why I’m feeling like this.

Without another glance at the omega’s vulnerable form, Chanyeol turned on his heel and went straight into the bathroom.

The water was scalding hot as it rained down his back, steam clouding the glass. Chanyeol pressed both palms to the tile, head hanging low, letting the spray soak his hair and trail down his body. But no matter how hard he tried to focus on work, on stress, on anything else, his mind betrayed him.

It went straight back to him.

Baekhyun—sleeping sweetly just a few feet away. Baekhyun—spread open under him, face flushed, lips parted in those breathless cries that haunted Chanyeol at night.

His chest tightened, his cock already hard and heavy between his thighs, twitching at the thought. With a rough groan, Chanyeol wrapped his hand around himself, hissing at the sudden relief. He squeezed tightly, pumping once, twice, his hips instinctively jerking forward into his fist.

Images flickered fast and hot: Baekhyun’s thighs trembling, his voice breaking as he whispered “Faster..” His eyes glassy with need, his scent sharp and sweet, filling Chanyeol’s lungs until he was drunk on it.

“Fuck…” Chanyeol gritted his teeth, stroking harder, faster, chasing the rhythm of memory. His other hand braced against the wall as the water cascaded down his sculpted torso, slicking his movements.

He imagined Baekhyun’s small hands gripping at him, guiding him in, his pretty moans muffled against Chanyeol’s throat. He remembered the way Baekhyun clenched so tightly around him, trembling as if the pleasure was too much to handle, yet begging for more.

Chanyeol’s hips thrust helplessly into his palm now, his breath ragged and loud in the steamy shower. His muscles flexed, veins standing out as his pace grew frantic.

Baekhyun… aaahh. My omega. Fuck—

The pressure coiled fast, unbearable, his release tearing through him like fire. Chanyeol threw his head back with a guttural groan, ropes of hot cum spilling across his hand and chest, washing away under the spray. His thighs shook, his body twitching through the aftershocks as he slumped against the wall, chest heaving.

The water drowned out everything but his own panting.

He shut his eyes, forehead pressing against the cool tile. His body felt sated, but his chest—his chest still ached with the truth.

It wasn’t just lust. It was Baekhyun. His sweet, innocent omega who trusted him so fully. And Chanyeol knew something is wrong with his body for being so needy.

By the time Chanyeol shut off the shower and dried himself, the steam still clung to his skin. He dressed quietly, careful not to wake Baekhyun. But as he stepped into the bedroom again, the sight of the omega curled up in bed hit him harder than the heat ever could.

Baekhyun had shifted in his sleep, his cheek pressed against Chanyeol’s pillow, lips parted slightly. He looked so small, so trusting—utterly unaware of the storm that had just raged inside his alpha only moments ago.

Chanyeol’s chest tightened.

He slid under the covers, reaching out instinctively to pull Baekhyun against him. The omega stirred, sighing softly, his hand curling into Chanyeol’s shirt like a child clinging to safety. Chanyeol pressed his nose into his hair, breathing in the faint strawberry sweetness that calmed him, even as guilt gnawed at his chest.

He used to be different. With Baekjin… God, he had been reckless. They were in their prime, constantly touching, always pushing boundaries. Back then, sex had been wild and frequent, proof of possession, proof of fire. He’d taken pride in that physical passion. And he thought that was love.

But Baekhyun… Baekhyun wasn’t like that. With him, there was no need to burn every night to ashes to feel loved. Just sitting together, eating takeout, Baekhyun humming quietly beside him while painting—it was enough. Their bond didn’t need proving.

And yet, tonight, he had given in to his body in the shower, his needs scratching at the edges of his control. He had thought of Baekhyun in ways he shouldn’t while his omega slept innocently in the next room.

They are married and mated. Chanyeol can talk to Baekhyun about his needs, but that feels so wrong. Why should the omega be responsible for his needs? It sounds right because Baekhyun is his husband, but Chanyeol doesn’t agree with that. Maybe he just loves Baekhyun too much.

His throat ached as he tightened his arms around Baekhyun’s waist protectively.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered against the soft strands of hair. “I don’t ever want you to think you’re just… that, to me. You’re so much more.” Chanyeol wipe his tear like nothing happened before he gently kiss Baekhyun's head.

Baekhyun only sighed in his sleep, nuzzling closer, and Chanyeol’s heart twisted painfully.

Why does it feel so different with you? he wondered. Why does it scare me more now, when I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else?

He lay awake long after, holding Baekhyun as if he could shield him not just from the world, but from his own unruly instincts.

Chapter Text

The little café was warm and cozy, the scent of roasted beans lingering in the air. Lunchtime chatter filled the room until the sound of soft, pitiful sniffles began to draw attention.

At their corner table, Baekhyun clung to Chanyeol as though the taller alpha might disappear any second. His small shoulders trembled, tears spilling freely as his face buried deeper into Chanyeol’s neck.

“Baek, please don’t cry like this…” Chanyeol’s voice was low, coaxing, but his large hand on Baekhyun’s back betrayed how helpless he felt. “It’s just a short trip. A business meeting. I can’t bring you this time—I’d be in the company all day, and you’d be alone in a place you don’t know…”

“No!” Baekhyun whimpered against his throat, shaking his head furiously. His tiny hands fisted into Chanyeol’s shirt. “I want to come! I’ll be good, I promise, Chan. I’ll wait, I won’t bother you… please, please don’t leave me here…” His cries came broken, childlike, tugging at every part of Chanyeol’s heart.

Across the table, Luhan and Kyungsoo exchanged worried glances. Kyungsoo tried gently, “Baekhyun-ah, it’s okay. You can stay with us while Yeol is away. We’ll cook, watch movies, even paint together. It’ll be fun.”

“And we’ll sleep over, too,” Luhan added quickly, forcing a smile. “You won’t even notice the days passing, promise.”

But the moment Baekhyun heard it, he shook his head harder, his little voice cracking as he cried louder, “No! I don’t want fun—I only want Chanyeol!”

A few heads from nearby tables turned toward them, curious glances lingering a little too long. Kyungsoo sighed and sat back in defeat, mouthing to Chanyeol, *He’s not going to stop.*

Chanyeol closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling through his nose. His omega’s tears soaked through his collar, his scent cloying with distress that made every instinct in him scream to give in. Slowly, he cupped Baekhyun’s face, tilting it up so he could see his tear-streaked cheeks and trembling pout.

“Baekhyun…” he whispered, brushing his thumbs under those wet eyes. “I don’t want to see you crying like this. Let me think, okay? I'll find a way.”

Baekhyun sniffled hard, hiccupping, his lips wobbling. “Y-you mean… I can go?”

Chanyeol kissed his forehead gently, stroking his soft hair. “I’ll find a way to make it possible. I promise, love. Just stop crying now, hmm? You’re making my heart ache.”

The promise made Baekhyun cling even tighter, "I love you Chan..." his sobs easing into smaller whimpers as he nestled against Chanyeol’s chest. Luhan and Kyungsoo exchanged another look — part pity, part amusement. Clearly, the alpha had already lost this battle the moment his omega started crying.

---

Chanyeol is not suppose to bring Baekhyun back to the company after lunch since Luhan is staying at the cafe and wanted to hangout with him more. But since hearing about Chanyeol's trip, Baekhyun no longer wants to depart from him. As if the alpha is going to leave him for the trip if he is not there.

The drive to the company was quiet. Baekhyun leaned against Chanyeol’s arm, eyes heavy, still sniffling from his earlier breakdown. By the time they reached the underground parking, the omega had already dozed off again, curled into his seat like a child. Chanyeol’s heart softened. He woke him up gently letting him know they have arrived

But the moment they stepped into the lobby, chaos was already waiting.

“—I told you I don’t need an appointment!” Baekjin’s sharp voice cut through the air. He stood at the reception desk, cheeks red, hands planted on the counter. His voice carried across the room, drawing the attention of passing staff. “I’m Park Chanyeol’s fiancé! I’m pregnant with his child—you can’t treat me like this!”

The receptionist bowed politely but firmly, her voice strained with professionalism. “Mr. Byun, please, everyone is aware that CEO Park is legally married. If you wish to meet him, you’ll need to schedule an appointment—”

“Shut up!” Baekjin slammed his palm on the counter. “You’ll regret treating me this way when Chanyeol comes down here!”

When the front door opens with the employees bowing to greet Chanyeol, all heads turned. Chanyeol stepped out in his sharp suit, tall frame exuding authority, but the warmth in his expression dimmed when he saw Baekjin. At his side, Baekhyun peeked groggily, clutching Chanyeol’s sleeve, still half-asleep wearing is baggy yellow sweater and big pants. The omega's face is still crumpled like he hates everything around him at the moment.

The second Baekjin saw Chanyeol, he broke into a desperate smile and rushed forward. “Chanyeol! Finally—these people humiliated me. They said I wasn’t allowed to see you, can you believe that? When I’m your—” He reached out, arms wide as if to hug him.

But Chanyeol shifted his body instantly, pulling Baekhyun into his back to shield him. His deep voice came cold, cutting through the lobby like ice. “What do you want, Baekjin?”

Baekjin froze, his arms faltering. His gaze flicked to the fragile figure hiding behind Chanyeol, realization striking. His jaw tightened.

“My agency!” he spat bitterly. “They canceled my contract. Years of work—gone—just because of some stupid rumor that this child isn’t yours. Do you understand what I’ve lost?!” His voice cracked, trembling with both rage and desperation.

Chanyeol’s expression remained unchanged. His grip on Baekhyun’s arm tightened, steady and reassuring, never allowing his smaller mate to slip from his shield. “And what does that have to do with me?” His tone was flat, merciless. “You said it yourself that it isn’t my child. It’s Minjae’s, isn’t it?”

The staffs gasps.

Baekjin’s eyes widened, glassy with tears. He stomped his foot like a child denied candy, his voice rising. “You think you can just throw me away?! You think you can replace me with him—” he jabbed a finger toward Baekhyun, who flinched— “when it should be me?!”

The room went still. Staff froze, unsure if they should intervene.

Baekjin’s voice cracked into a yell. “It should have been me, Chanyeol! Not him! He stole my life—he stole everything that was meant for me! I was supposed to be your omega!”

Baekhyun’s fingers tightened on Chanyeol’s sleeve, eyes brimming with fresh tears. His lips quivered, but he said nothing, too shocked by the raw hatred in his twin’s voice.

Chanyeol’s jaw clenched, his alpha instincts flaring protectively. He stepped forward, towering over Baekjin, his voice a low growl. “Baekhyun didn't steal anything from you.”

He pulled Baekhyun tighter into his embrace, shielding him from the venom in Baekjin’s glare. “Baekhyun is my omega. My husband. My mate. That will never change. So stop humiliating yourself and leave.”

After Baekjin stormed out of the building, it didn’t take long for whispers to spread. By the end of the day, rumors about his supposed relationship with the actor Minjae were circulating like wildfire, reaching social media platforms in a frenzy.

Within hours, Minjae’s label released an official statement—confirming the truth. They admitted the actor had been in a hidden relationship with Baekjin, and though the revelation shocked fans, Minjae’s side made it clear: he was ready to take responsibility for the child.

The news only enraged Baekjin further. He barged into Minjae’s agency, demanding the statement be taken down. His screams echoed through the halls, but Minjae stood firm, refusing to deny what he considered his duty. “I won’t let you carry this burden alone,” Minjae said, voice steady despite the chaos.

Baekjin’s face twisted with fury. “If you don’t take it back, I’ll get rid of this child. I swear I will!” he threatened before vanishing the very next day.

His disappearance threw the media into a frenzy. Headlines exploded, fans and reporters alike desperate for answers. Where was Baekjin? Was he safe? Would he really go through with his threat? With Minjae’s influence, the search only intensified, every news outlet chasing the story.

The chaos inevitably bled into Park Industries. Interviewers swarmed the building, shoving cameras and microphones into the lobby. At first, they mistook Baekhyun for Baekjin, snapping photos of him as if he were the scandal’s centerpiece. But once they realized this wasn’t the disgraced model, their interest only sharpened—they wanted to know who Baekhyun was, why he was by Chanyeol’s side, and what role he played in the tangled mess.

Baekhyun, overwhelmed and frightened, clung to Chanyeol, trembling at every sudden flashes of a camera that hurt his eyes and the crowd that scared him. The constant invasion left him shaken, his wide eyes brimming with fear.

That was when the Park family stepped in decisively. Security was doubled overnight, guards stationed at every entrance and floor. Employees were carefully shielded, and Baekhyun was never left alone. Whatever storms the media stirred up outside, inside those walls Chanyeol made sure his omega was safe, untouchable.

---

“Chan… this is so big,” Baekhyun whispered in awe, eyes widening as he stared at the two enormous luggages lined up by the door.

“Mmm,” Chanyeol hummed, easily lifting them as though they weighed nothing. He arranged them neatly in the back of the car, then turned with a smile, brushing his knuckles fondly over Baekhyun’s cheek. “Because we’re going to stay there for a while. Don’t worry, love—everything is going to be fine.”

Reassured by his tone, Baekhyun only gave a small, innocent nod, though his lips still pursed into a tiny pout.

It was their first long flight together. The hum of the engines and the soft warmth of Chanyeol’s arm around him lulled Baekhyun into slumber almost instantly. He slept and slept, curled up like a kitten against his alpha, until the announcement of their arrival in San Francisco.

But even after so many hours of rest, Baekhyun still looked sleepy and worn out. His lashes fluttered heavily, lips parted in a drowsy sigh as he stumbled off the plane. Spotting the oversized luggage, he tried to help, tugging at one of the handles with his small hands.

Chanyeol chuckled, shaking his head. With a swift motion, he gripped both luggages in one hand and pulled his omega closer with the other, tucking Baekhyun safely against his side as they exited the airport.

The evening air was sharp and cold, their breath fogging faintly with every exhale. Baekhyun shivered, instinctively leaning into the warmth of Chanyeol’s body.

“Too cold,” Chanyeol murmured, immediately stopping to tug the zipper of Baekhyun’s jacket all the way up to his chin. He fussed with the collar, smoothing it down before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “There. My puppy won’t freeze.”

Baekhyun’s lips curved into a sleepy smile, his eyes soft with trust as he place an innocent kiss in Chanyeol's lips.

Soon after, a sleek service van pulled up to fetch them, ready to take them to Chanyeol’s apartment in the city. With Baekhyun leaning drowsily against his shoulder, Chanyeol’s heart swelled. Whatever chaos was waiting for them back home, here, in this moment, he was determined to keep his omega safe and at peace.

The apartment was spacious, though not nearly as grand as Chanyeol’s penthouse back in Seoul. Its charm lay in its warmth—wooden floors, tall windows with city lights twinkling beyond, and soft neutral tones that made the space feel lived-in rather than cold.

There was only one bedroom, but Baekhyun didn’t seem to mind. The moment he stepped inside, he ran his fingers across the duvet, tested the bounce of the mattress with a shy hop, and peeked curiously at the shelves filled with Chanyeol’s books and files.

“It’s… cozy,” Baekhyun whispered, lips curling into a small smile. He tugged lightly at Chanyeol’s sleeve, his eyes shining despite his lingering sleepiness. “I like it.”

That was all Chanyeol needed to hear. His chest eased with relief as he set down the luggage. “Good. I was worried you’d feel out of place.”

Baekhyun shook his head quickly, then yawned, rubbing at his eyes. The long day had taken its toll, and soon he was curling up on the bed without hesitation. Chanyeol joined him moments later, tugging the blanket over them both and wrapping his arms firmly around his omega’s tiny frame.

Outside, the San Francisco night stretched wide and unfamiliar, the hum of traffic and distant sirens a stark contrast to home. But inside that little bedroom, it was warm. Safe.

Baekhyun nestled his face against Chanyeol’s chest, his breath soft and steadying. “Don’t let go,” he murmured, already half-asleep.

“Never,” Chanyeol whispered into his hair, holding him tighter.

And just like that, the couple drifted into slumber—two hearts bound together, cocooned in each other’s warmth, in a big unfamiliar city far away from home.

---

The next morning, the couple left early after breakfast. Baekhyun kept asking where they were going, growing impatient as Chanyeol refused to give him an answer, only repeating that it was a surprise.

They arrived at a modest house with a wide front yard, and Baekhyun stopped his questions the moment he noticed the apple tree. The ground was littered with ripe, red fruit. He crouched down, touching one as if to check whether it was real, while Chanyeol walked up to ring the doorbell.

A moment later, the door opened. Chanyeol greeted the person inside, and Baekhyun’s head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice. His whole body froze when his eyes landed on the man standing there.

“Dad…” his voice cracked, tears already brimming.

“Oh, Baekjin-ah—” Mr. Byun stopped abruptly, his gaze locking onto the smaller figure behind Chanyeol. He stared and his lips trembled, and tears spilled down his cheeks ans he realized it's not Baekjin. “My Baekhyunie…”

He stepped forward in a rush, pulling his son into his arms.

“Dad!!” Baekhyun sobbed like a child, clinging tightly as though he never wanted to let go. "I miss you so much!" He cried soundly.

Chanyeol stood by quietly, a warm smile tugging at his lips as he watched father and son finally reunited after not seeing each other for a long time.

Chapter Text

Baekhyun looked at his dad with trembling lips and teary eyes. “You… you didn’t come back for me.”

Mr. Byun’s hands shook as he wiped his tears, cupping his son’s small face as if he was afraid Baekhyun might vanish again. “I’m sorry, Hyunnie… I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I loved your mom too much—I didn’t want to break our family apart. I thought staying silent was the right thing… but it was the worst mistake of my life. When I found out you were gone—when I realized she gave you away to marry in your brother’s place—I felt like I had lost everything. We divorced after that. I was too late. I was a coward. You didn’t deserve us. We… we were so cruel to you. I understand if you can't forgive me…” His voice cracked, grief spilling like open wounds.

“Dad… I just missed you…” Baekhyun whispered, collapsing against him, hugging him so tightly as if he could fold the months of absence into one desperate embrace. He buried his face into his father’s chest, inhaling that familiar scent he thought he would never smell again—the only presence that ever made him feel safe in that house before Chanyeol.

Even if his father had always been restrained, limiting his affection, at least he never raised a hand against him. The quiet kindnesses—the way he secretly slipped him brushes and expensive paint, the way he lingered outside his locked door just to make sure he was eating—Baekhyun had treasured them all. Those small, fragile gestures had been lifelines in a world that otherwise treated him as disposable.

He may not have been a perfect father, but to Baekhyun, he had been the only light. The one who colored his bleakest days with hues of paint and whispered proof that love still existed. And now, standing in his arms again after twenty-two years of pain, Baekhyun’s heart broke with the weight of both forgiveness and loss.

---

They sat together in the modest living room of Mr. Byun’s house, the warmth of the tea cups steaming gently between them. Baekhyun clung to Chanyeol’s arm, his small fingers curled tight as if afraid to let go. His eyes grew heavier with each passing moment because of the cold, fighting off sleep even as his father spoke.

Chanyeol explained how they had come to be there, his words calm and steady. Mr. Byun listened intently, his eyes softening with gratitude. “I was so worried when I learned Baekhyun was the one who married instead of Baekjin,” he confessed, his voice trembling with regret. “My poor child… he doesn’t even know the ways of the world. How could he be married off to someone who loved someone else?” His gaze lingered on Baekhyun, who was now leaning heavily against Chanyeol, his lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks. “I knew you loved Baekjin, but when I heard nothing from you after the wedding, I couldn’t confront the Parks.”

“I stayed silent for Baekhyun’s safety,” Chanyeol replied softly, adjusting Baekhyun so the omega could lie comfortably on the couch, his head pillowed on Chanyeol’s lap. His hand instinctively brushed through the smaller man’s hair, tender and protective. “I saw how your wife treated him. But what I didn’t expect… was to fall in love. I didn’t force him, sir. We built this slowly—brick by brick—until it became real. Until we found this bond.”

Mr. Byun’s eyes glistened as he nodded in understanding. “I can see how much he trusts you, Chanyeol. I’m glad… I’m glad it’s you. Thank you, for protecting him where I could not.”

His tone softened as he explained further—how their business in Korea had always been under his wife’s control, since it came from her family. After their marriage, he had been pushed aside, forced to build his own company abroad. And when the separation finally came, he stayed here.

Chanyeol listened carefully before sharing his own plans. “I’m here on business,” he admitted. “During the day, I’ll be tied up with work. I was hoping… if you wouldn’t mind, you could watch over Baekhyun while I’m gone. I’ll bring him back to you each night before we return home.”

Mr. Byun’s face brightened with relief, his lips tugging into a smile that trembled with emotion. “Of course. I’d be more than happy to. Especially now… I’m working from home temporarily, under doctor’s orders for my blood pressure. Having Baekhyun here—having time with my son again—it means more than you know.”

His eyes lingered on Baekhyun, already dozing peacefully in Chanyeol’s lap, looking younger and more fragile than ever.

Chanyeol leaned down and brushed his fingers gently over Baekhyun’s cheek to wake him. “Baek..,” he whispered, his voice careful not to startle him. Baekhyun stirred, his face scrunching in sleepy confusion, eyes blinking open as though the world still hadn’t quite settled into focus.

“I need to leave for a business meeting today. Remember yoyr promise?” Chanyeol said softly.

Baekhyun’s lips pouted, his brows drawing together, but when Chanyeol added that he would be leaving him here in Mr. Byun’s house, the omega slowly nodded. “See you tonight, Chan…” he murmured, leaning forward to peck the alpha’s lips quickly before waving him off with his small hand.

Chanyeol couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips as he stepped out, glancing back once more at the precious sight of Baekhyun nestled safely at his father’s side. Mr. Byun also watched the parting, his heart aching but warming at how natural the bond between them looked.

When the car disappeared down the road, Mr. Byun turned to his son. “So, Hyunnie, what do you want to do today?”

Baekhyun lifted his hand and pointed toward the front yard, where the apples lay scattered beneath the tree. “I want to taste them.”

Mr. Byun chuckled softly. “Of course, Hyunnie. Come, let’s pick the pretty ones.” He handed Baekhyun a basket, and together they walked under the shade of the tree.

Baekhyun crouched down, carefully choosing the roundest, prettiest apples from the grass while his father picked some from the lower branches. His small hands placed each one gently in the basket, as though they were treasures. Inside, he helped wash them at the sink, sleeves rolled clumsily to his elbows, while Mr. Byun cut the fruit into neat slices.

They ate together, the crisp sweetness of the apples lingering between laughter and quiet smiles. But before long, the weight of the day pressed down on Baekhyun. His head lolled, his eyes heavy, and soon he was stretched across the couch, fast asleep, the afternoon sunlight spilling across his delicate face.

Mr. Byun covered him with a light blanket, pausing for a long moment just to watch his son breathe. For the first time in years, his house felt alive again.

---

During the drive home, Chanyeol asked Baekhyun what he had done that day with his father. The omega only shrugged sleepily. “We painted a little… then I fell asleep,” he admitted softly, resting his head against the window.

That day was much the same from the previous—they picked apples, ate them until their stomachs were full, then the other day Mr. Byun took Baekhyun across the street to the small convenience store. There, Baekhyun discovered a tub of strawberry ice cream and devoured a shocking amount of it, much to Chanyeol’s dismay later that night when the omega started coughing in bed.

Chanyeol fussed over him, making him drink a lot of water, but Baekhyun shook his head. “No more water! I'm full, I don’t want it!” he whined, his little tantrum making Chanyeol sigh. He didn’t argue, too exhausted after another long day of work. For five days straight, his schedule had been endless—but finally, he was done.

Originally, they were supposed to return to Seoul, but with the chaos still unfolding back home, Chanyeol decided to extend their stay. That morning, he let Baekhyun sleep in, having already told Mr. Byun the night before that they wouldn’t be visiting today.

Over breakfast, Baekhyun suddenly piped up, his tone timid but excited. “Chan… I want to buy something with my own money.”

Chanyeol looked up, smiling at the determination in his mate’s voice. “Okay. Let’s go out later.”

At the mall, Chanyeol discovered Baekhyun’s “big purchase” was an iPad. The omega insisted on using his own savings, standing firm despite Chanyeol’s gentle offer to cover it. Watching him pay with his own card, his eyes shining with pride, made Chanyeol’s heart swell.

Afterward, Baekhyun paused in front of a jewelry shop. “I want to go inside… but alone,” he said shyly. “Promise me you’ll wait here?”

Chanyeol raised a brow in curiosity but nodded. From the glass window, he watched Baekhyun speak softly with a staff member, gesturing nervously at the shelves. The alpha couldn’t help but marvel when he heard Baekhyun speaking the foreign language. He realized then that, despite the way his family sheltered him, Baekhyun’s homeschooling had given him the tools to learn more than anyone expected. His omega was much smarter than people ever gave him credit for.

When Baekhyun emerged, he was practically bouncing, clutching a small paper bag. “Luhannie said your birthday is near,” he said with a little frown, biting his lip. “It’s on… 26? 29?”

Chanyeol chuckled, warmth blooming in his chest. “It’s the 27th, baby.” He accepted the bag and pulled Baekhyun into his arms. “You didn’t need to get me anything. Being my omega is more than enough. But thank you, love.” He kissed Baekhyun’s head, and the omega giggled happily.

That evening, they curled up on the couch with takeout food, Baekhyun practically vibrating with excitement as he urged, “Open it, Chan! Open it!”

Chanyeol unwrapped the small gift and froze, his throat tightening. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, simple but elegant—the exact kind of understated piece he would have chosen for himself. His eyes prickled with tears. Baekhyun is really an artist, he is observant and smart. He knows what Chanyeol would like.

“Baek… this is the best birthday gift ever.” His voice was thick as he pulled Baekhyun onto his lap, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Baekhyun blushed, clinging tightly to Chanyeol’s neck as if to hide his embarrassment. “I’m glad you like it…” he whispered.

Chanyeol held him close, heart swelling with love. “I love it. And I love you.”

In that quiet, unfamiliar apartment far from home, the two of them stayed curled together—safe, warm, and so deeply in love.

---

Chanyeol woke in the middle of the night to the sound of soft whimpers beside him. His head felt heavy, a faint fever pressing at his temples, but the first thing he noticed was Baekhyun’s restless figure beside him.

“Baek?” he whispered, pulling the omega gently into his arms. “What’s wrong, love?”

Baekhyun blinked up at him with teary eyes, his small hands fidgeting against the sheets. “Chan… I can’t sleep…” His legs shifted restlessly beneath the blanket, rubbing together as if he couldn’t get comfortable. The faint, sweet scent hit Chanyeol’s senses a moment later—thick, unmistakable.

Slick.

Chanyeol’s breath caught, and the dizziness in his head deepened, his chest tightening. He pressed a kiss against Baekhyun’s mark, only to feel the omega whimper beneath his lips, shivering. The sound confirmed it: Baekhyun was in heat.

“Baek…” Chanyeol’s voice dropped low, strained with both concern and desire. “You are in heat.”

Baekhyun sleeping so much these past two weeks, Chanyeol had been a little worried, but the omega’s body had only been preparing for mating.

The omega’s breath hitched, his eyes squeezing shut as he clutched at Chanyeol’s shirt, unable to answer, but the way his body trembled told him everything.

Chanyeol swallowed hard, pulling back with effort. “Wait here, love,” he murmured, slipping out of bed. His knees buckled the moment his feet touched the floor, and he had to catch himself against the nightstand, his palm trembling as he dragged open the drawer to search for his own pills.

“Shit.” Chanyeol’s hands trembled as he rummaged through their drawer, but he couldn’t find his alpha meds—while his own body was already starting to act up.

The moment Baekhyun moaned his name in bed, calling out for him, Chanyeol’s body tensed and shuddered. Suddenly, it all made sense—the feverish haze, the dizziness clouding his head, the pounding heat surging beneath his skin.

His rut was syncing with Baekhyun’s heat.

Chapter Text

While Chanyeol was still rummaging through the drawer, his dizziness worsened—vision blurring, body trembling. He barely had the strength to curse under his breath before he felt a familiar warmth press against his back. Baekhyun had slipped out of bed, soft arms wrapping tight around his waist from behind.

“Chan… I want you,” the omega whispered into his ear, voice shaky, needy, but so utterly sweet that it pierced straight through his haze.

The drawer slammed shut with a dull thud as Chanyeol exhaled heavily, surrendering. Fuck his meds. He will take responsibility whatever is the result of this.

He turned, scooping Baekhyun up as if his body already knew what it needed. The omega instinctively wrapped his legs around Chanyeol’s waist, small fingers clutching at his shoulders.

Chanyeol buried his face in Baekhyun’s neck, inhaling deep. That strawberry-sweet scent was intoxicating—ripe, rich, cloying in the best way, wrapping around his senses until he felt feverish. His rut burned hotter with every breath.

Baekhyun tilted his head back, exposing the slender line of his throat in pure instinct, lips parting as his chest rose and fell rapidly. His soft gasp turned into a trembling sigh when Chanyeol’s tongue traced a slow, deliberate path up his neck to his chin.

The alpha looked at him then—eyes dark, lips parted, like a starved beast that had finally found his meal.

“Baek… I want you too.” Chanyeol growled low, the sound vibrating against Baekhyun’s skin, equal parts warning and plea.

But Baekhyun only clung tighter, legs squeezing around his waist, eyes glassy with tears of heat and desire. “Please, Chan…" he sobbed. "My body is burning..”

Chanyeol groaned, losing the last of his restraint as he pressed Baekhyun hard against the wall, his mouth claiming the omega’s in a feverish kiss—hungry, messy, consuming. Baekhyun whimpered against his lips, every sound fueling the blaze roaring inside the alpha.

---

Chanyeol’s mouth was relentless, devouring Baekhyun’s lips as if he could never get enough. They are already naked seated on the edge of the bed, his long legs spread wide, his bare body radiated heat. Baekhyun straddled him, smaller frame trembling with every demanding kiss, his hands clinging to Chanyeol’s shoulders for balance.

The omega tried to keep up, his soft lips opening again and again, but the alpha’s hunger was overwhelming. His chest rose sharply, struggling for air, and finally he broke away with a gasp, tears glistening at the corners of his eyes.

“Chan…” His voice wavered, worry laced in the single syllable, as if afraid the alpha would be disappointed in him.

But Chanyeol only softened, brushing his thumb gently across Baekhyun’s damp lips, and gave him a tender smile. “It’s okay, baby.” His voice was low, controlled, as he forced himself to ease the heat simmering under his skin.

Taking Baekhyun’s delicate hands, he pressed them firmly against his chest. The omega’s eyes widened, his breath catching at the solid warmth beneath his palms. The contrast between their bodies was striking—where Baekhyun was soft, smooth, and delicate, Chanyeol was hard planes and defined muscle, every inch of him carved with strength.

“You’re allowed to touch, Baek,” Chanyeol murmured, watching the way wonder flickered across his mate’s face.

Tentatively, Baekhyun slid his pretty hands down, fingertips tracing the ridges of Chanyeol’s abs as though committing each line to memory. His lashes fluttered as he dared a glance upward, searching Chanyeol’s reaction, and the alpha’s low hum of approval made his heart pound harder.

“I want to get closer to you,” Baekhyun whispered, voice small but filled with yearning.

Chanyeol exhaled slowly, one hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of Baekhyun’s back to calm the trembling omega. “Closer? We are close, love.”

Baekhyun’s lips parted, his cheeks burning red. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Chanyeol’s shoulder as if the contact could shield his shyness. “Like… I want your body inside my body. I don't understand.”

The words made Chanyeol’s blood surge hot, but he kept his voice gentle, grounding. He chuckled. “It’s desire, Baek. You want to have sex.”

As he spoke, his large hand trailed lower, gliding from Baekhyun’s back down over the curve of his bottom. He felt the heat of slick already dampening the omega’s skin, proof of his arousal, and Chanyeol’s throat tightened at the sensation.

Baekhyun gasped at the touch, a soft moan tumbling out before he could stop it. But then—bold and determined—his hand moved lower too. Without warning, he wrapped his fingers around Chanyeol’s hard shaft.

“Baek—” Chanyeol groaned, his voice breaking as his hips jerked slightly at the unexpected pleasure. He stared at his mate in shock, chest heaving. The omega’s hand was small, almost hesitant, but the determination in his eyes left no doubt.

Baekhyun was set on pleasuring his alpha.

Baekhyun’s hand trembled as it stroked over Chanyeol’s length, his touch tentative yet reverent, as though afraid the alpha might break beneath his fingers. His wide, pretty eyes stayed fixed on the way Chanyeol’s cock twitched at every brush of his palm, lips parting in awe. Each flicker of movement pulled a small gasp from him, innocence painted across his face like the softest blush.

“Chan… it keeps moving,” he whispered, voice laced with worry, as if the hardened weight in his hand was too alive, too overwhelming.

Chanyeol groaned low in his chest, heat curling tight in his gut. He cupped Baekhyun’s cheek, forcing himself to breathe through the surge of desire. “That’s because of you, Baek. You’re making me feel good.”

The words made Baekhyun falter, his lips trembling as though caught between fear and wonder. Still, his hand didn’t stop. His strokes grew steadier, bolder, though unpolished—sometimes lingering too long, sometimes rushing with nervous energy. But every movement was sincere, so earnest it made Chanyeol ache.

“It’s… really big,” Baekhyun murmured, almost like a secret confession.

Chanyeol swore under his breath, his hips jerking before he caught himself. He pressed their foreheads together, voice rough but tender. “Don’t worry, love. You’re mine, your body belong to me. You have my mark and I have yours, we fit perfectly."

Baekhyun’s lashes fluttered, his mouth soft and open as if he was testing his courage, but his small hand never stilled. The warmth of his palm wrapped tight around Chanyeol’s cock, dragging from tip to base as his chest rose and fell with nervous breaths. His innocence was intoxicating, every shaky stroke a gift Chanyeol wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Ah—Chan…” Baekhyun’s voice broke when a thick finger slid inside him, his thighs clenching around Chanyeol’s hips. His body arched beautifully, chest lifting, throat bared as he clung tighter to Chanyeol’s shoulders.

“That’s it, baby,” Chanyeol murmured against his jaw, kissing along his flushed skin. “Open up for me. Let me in.”

Baekhyun whimpered, his slick walls gripping around the finger, but his trembling hand kept stroking Chanyeol, even faster now, as though his pleasure fueled his need to give back. The contrast undid Chanyeol—the omega’s tight heat swallowing his fingers while that delicate hand pumped him with desperate devotion. It's making him crazy, and it's a miracle that he is still thinking straight.

Another finger slipped in, stretching Baekhyun wider. The wet sound of it filled the air, mingling with Baekhyun’s breathless moans. He arched back, hair falling messily, lips parted as his chest heaved with every gasp.

“Feels good?” Chanyeol rasped, voice dark and low.

Baekhyun’s eyes squeezed shut, his head nodding frantically. His strokes faltered for a moment as Chanyeol brushed a spot inside him, forcing a cry from his throat. “Yes… but—ahh—Chan, I want… I need more.”

The plea lit Chanyeol’s blood on fire. His control unraveled with each trembling syllable, each innocent confession. He kissed Baekhyun’s temple, his voice tight with restraint. “You’ll have everything, love. Let me make you ready for me.”

When the third finger slid inside, Baekhyun’s body trembled, stretched so perfectly that tears pricked his eyes. Slick flooded the alpha's fingers. His hand clung harder around Chanyeol’s cock, choking, stroking slower as his small wrist is getting tired.

“Fuck, Baek…” Chanyeol growled, his jaw tight, every nerve pulled taut as the omega’s soft whimpers and clumsy devotion threatened to wreck him completely.

That small, innocent truth shattered the last thread of Chanyeol’s restraint. His fingers curled deeper, stretching and scissoring until Baekhyun writhed helplessly in his lap. Each clench of his body, each stroke of his fragile hand, was like fire dancing along Chanyeol’s skin—beautiful, unbearable, and utterly consuming.

---

When Chanyeol finally guided him down, Baekhyun’s body seemed to glow in the soft light of the room. His pale skin flushed pink, a sheen of sweat forming along his collarbones as he gasped, tears clinging to his lashes. The omega’s chest rose and fell quickly, his nipples hardened and glistening from Chanyeol’s earlier kisses. Every tremble in his thighs, every arch of his delicate frame, only made him look more irresistible.

Chanyeol could barely breathe watching him—Baekhyun was straddling his lap, thighs spread, taking him in so sweetly, his slick body stretching to fit around his cock. The way his stomach tightened as he lowered himself, the soft cry that spilled from his lips when he finally sank all the way down—it was devastatingly beautiful.

“Baek…” Chanyeol rasped, his voice breaking. His hands gripped the omega’s slender waist, feeling the heat of his body, the shiver in his muscles. “You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.”

Baekhyun’s back arched instinctively at the praise, his head falling back, exposing the elegant curve of his throat. His hips began to move—hesitant at first, rolling down slowly, then lifting and pressing back down with more urgency. The motion made his whole body shift and bounce in Chanyeol’s lap, every movement displaying his lithe form in ways that drove the alpha mad.

The sight of Baekhyun riding him—his flushed chest, the pretty swell of his hips, the way his stomach fluttered each time he sank down—was intoxicating. Slick sounds filled the room, each thrust sending tremors through his body, making his soft cries grow louder, sweeter.

Chanyeol’s hands slid from his waist to his trembling thighs, then up again to cradle the curve of his back, helping him move. “That’s it, love… let me see you. You’re so gorgeous like this.”

Baekhyun whimpered, clutching Chanyeol’s shoulders as he bounced in his lap, each downward thrust making him moan helplessly. “Chan… I feel so full—ahh—it’s so good…” His body arched again, sweat-damp hair clinging to his temple, lips parted in pure surrender.

Chanyeol thought he’d lose his sanity watching him—his innocent omega moving so desperately, so beautifully, every detail etched in his mind forever. The tight clutch of Baekhyun’s body, the sight of him trembling and crying in pleasure, made the alpha’s rut surge dangerously close to the edge.

“Ride me more, Baek. Let me see you fall apart for me,” he groaned, tilting his head back as his hands tightened on Baekhyun’s hips, guiding the rhythm harder, deeper.

The omega’s voice broke into a sob of pleasure, but his body obeyed, hips moving faster, thighs shaking as he gave himself completely. His small frame bounced in Chanyeol’s lap with abandon, moans spilling like music, and Chanyeol thought there was nothing more beautiful in the world than Baekhyun in his arms like this.

Chanyeol’s thrusts grew brutal now, hips slamming up to meet every desperate drop of Baekhyun’s body. The slap of their skin grew louder, wet and relentless, every motion driving them higher. Baekhyun clung to him, nails digging into his back, but there was no fear in his eyes anymore—only raw, burning desire.

Each cry from the omega was sharper, dirtier, no longer shy but hungry. His innocence melted away with every thrust, every sobbing moan that begged for more. “Harder, Chan—don’t stop—please, don’t stop!”

The sound of Baekhyun begging like that shattered what little restraint Chanyeol had left. He flipped Baekhyun onto the mattress, pinning his wrists above his head, and drove into him from above with ruthless force. Baekhyun screamed his name, his slender body arching beautifully under the weight of his alpha, his legs spreading wider, offering everything.

The room was filled with wet, messy sounds—slick squelching around Chanyeol’s cock, Baekhyun’s high cries, Chanyeol’s guttural growls as he rutted into him without pause. Their sweat-slicked bodies moved in perfect sync, instinct overtaking them both, their heat and rut feeding off each other until nothing but primal need remained.

Baekhyun’s innocence dissolved in the way his voice broke into desperate, sinful pleas, in the way he arched into every harsh thrust with bliss instead of fear. His body, trembling and stretched so wide, still begged for more. “It's coming Chan, please—ahhh!”

Chanyeol’s vision blurred with lust, his knot swelling, demanding to lock them together. His voice was ragged, animalistic as he slammed deeper, his body losing all rhythm, pounding until he felt Baekhyun convulse beneath him, tight walls milking him greedily.

“Baek—fuck—I'm knotting—” Chanyeol choked out, his rut fully consuming him now.

“Do it,” Baekhyun sobbed, his voice breaking as he clung to him desperately. “Knot me.. alpha."

That plea destroyed what little sanity Chanyeol had left. With a feral sound, he slammed into Baekhyun, grinding deep as his knot forced its way past the last barrier. The stretch was overwhelming, and Baekhyun screamed his name, back arching violently as the thick knot locked them together.

“F-Fuck—Baekhyun!” Chanyeol roared, his body convulsing as he spilled deep inside him, hot and endless, rut claiming what was his.

Baekhyun shattered in that moment. The knot stretched him impossibly, filling him so completely he thought he might break, but it was pleasure beyond anything he’d ever known. His body convulsed, vision going white as his orgasm ripped through him, harder than any before. His release painted their stomachs, his cries breaking into sobs of ecstasy.

“Chan! Oh God—ohh Chan!” His voice cracked, desperate and undone, as his body milked his alpha, clutching tight around the knot. His thighs shook uncontrollably, his toes curling, every nerve alight with pleasure.

Chanyeol groaned low, biting into Baekhyun’s shoulder as he kept grinding, fucking his knot deeper to ride out their high. “That’s it, love—take me, take all of me.”

Their bodies writhed together, locked by instinct and bound by love. Baekhyun clung to him with trembling arms, burying his face in Chanyeol’s neck as he sobbed from the overwhelming intensity. “I love you, Chan—I love you so much—it feels so good—I can’t stop—”

Chanyeol’s heart twisted even as his body kept rutting, every grind sending sparks through both of them. He kissed Baekhyun’s damp hair, his jaw, his swollen lips, worshipping him even as instinct owned him. “I love you too, Baek.”

The room smelled thick of strawberries and musk, their pheromones tangling until neither could be told apart. The sound of their panting filled the quiet that followed, the bed shaking gently as Baekhyun still twitched around Chanyeol’s knot, aftershocks stealing his breath.

Baekhyun looked wrecked, beautiful, glowing. Tears clung to his lashes, his lips swollen from kissing, his body trembling from the sheer force of his climax. Yet he smiled faintly, voice broken but tender. “It’s the best… Chan—it’s the best I’ve ever felt.”

And locked inside him, Chanyeol knew he’d never let him go again.

---

What began with their first knotting didn’t stop there. Heat and rut demanded more, and though Baekhyun’s body trembled from release, he clung to Chanyeol and whispered for him again. His shyness was gone—what remained was need, raw and consuming.

Chanyeol gave him everything. He took Baekhyun on his back, against the wall, straddling his lap—breeding him again and again until the omega’s voice grew hoarse from moaning his name. Each position drew out new sounds, new expressions, and little by little the innocence Baekhyun once carried slipped away. His body learned how to move with Chanyeol’s, how to chase pleasure without hesitation, how to surrender without shame.

By the third knot, he was crying not from uncertainty but from ecstasy, begging openly for more. His small hands clawed at Chanyeol’s shoulders, his legs wrapping tight, his lips parted in surrender. The timid omega who once blushed at a touch was gone—replaced by a lover who embraced every wave of sensation, who gave himself without fear.

When at last the final climax tore through them both, Baekhyun collapsed against Chanyeol’s chest, utterly spent. His heat had finally broken, leaving him boneless and trembling, his innocence shed like a second skin.

Chanyeol held him tenderly, curling around his smaller body, pressing soft kisses into his damp hair. His whispers filled the quiet, steady and warm. "Thank you Baek, for this wonderful cycle. I’ll take care of you. Always.”

He stroked Baekhyun’s back gently, soothing him as his breathing evened out in deep sleep. Chanyeol’s rut had finally burned itself out, and Baekhyun’s heat had been sated. All that remained was the softness afterward—the alpha holding his beloved omega, heart full of gratitude and love.

For the first time, they had crossed that threshold together, innocence lost and love sealed with instinct. And as Chanyeol kissed the crown of Baekhyun’s head one last time, he knew he’d never forget this night.

---

December 25th

Mr Byun's house smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon, the warmth of the fireplace chasing away the winter chill. Baekhyun’s father had decorated simply—garlands strung along the walls, a modest tree glowing in the corner—but to Baekhyun, it felt perfect.

“Come son, I want you to meet someone,” his father said, leading them outside. From a small shed padded a scruffy golden dog with bright eyes and an eager wagging tail. "This is my new housemate. Her name is Berry." Baekhyun gasped, immediately dropping to his knees as the pup bounded into his arms.

“You adopted him?” Baekhyun laughed, hugging the dog close as its tongue eagerly brushed his cheek.

His father’s smile was soft. “Thought this house could use a little more warmth.”

The evening unfolded in cozy joy. Baekhyun played with the puppy before he opened the gifts. A handmade scarf from Chanyeol (the alpha knitted it), a sketch set from his father, and small but thoughtful gifts from their friends: a music box from Luhan, cookies from Kyungsoo, and a book sent by Mr. and Mrs. Park. With each unwrapped box, Baekhyun’s eyes grew shinier, his laugh turning shaky.

“I’ve never had this many gifts before,” he admitted quietly, hugging the scarf to his chest as though it anchored him. Chanyeol hugs him back whispering that the omega deserve them since he a good person.

Later, the house had fallen into peace. The dog slept curled at Baekhyun’s feet while the three of them sat together on the porch fronting the apple tree, watching the city fireworks bloom against the dark sky. The cold nipped at their cheeks, but the moment felt warm, timeless.

Then, with a shy smile, Baekhyun reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gift box. He held it out with both hands, cheeks pink.

“This one’s for you… both of you,” he said softly.

His father leaned forward with curious eyes while Chanyeol carefully opened the lid.

And in that quiet, with fireworks exploding above and his heart thundering in his chest, Baekhyun thought—it was the best Christmas he had ever had.

Chapter Text

It was Baekhyun’s birthday, and finally, after months abroad, they were back in Seoul. Baekhyun had cried so hard saying goodbye to his father and Berry, but Chanyeol had promised him they’d visit often. That assurance eased the ache in his chest a little.

They were on their way to Kyungsoo’s café, where a small birthday dinner had been prepared. Baekhyun was buzzing with excitement, eager to reunite with his fellow omegas.

The drive was short, and the moment Chanyeol parked the car, Baekhyun jumped out of his seat—hugging a photo album to his chest—and dashed toward the café.

“Park Baekhyun!!!” Chanyeol shouted after him, worried and protective, but the omega had already disappeared inside.

“Oh my gosh, uri Baekhyuniee!!” Luhan squealed, wrapping him in a tight hug. Kyungsoo followed with a softer embrace, smiling warmly once Luhan let him go.

“I forgot how pretty you are, pup. But I think you look even prettier now,” Kyungsoo said.

Baekhyun beamed proudly, bouncing on his feet as he carefully placed the album on the table. “I wanna show you something!” His oversized white sweater—clearly one of Chanyeol’s—draped over him, paired with baggy pants that made him look even smaller.

With sparkling eyes, he took both Luhan and Kyungsoo’s hands and placed them gently on his stomach.

Luhan gasped at the small bump, while Kyungsoo’s wide eyes darted between Baekhyun’s crescent-eyed smile and Chanyeol, who had just walked up to their table.

“You’re pregnant, Baek,” Luhan whispered, tears welling in his eyes.

Baekhyun nodded quickly, giggling, and threw his arms around Luhan again as the elder squealed like a teenager.

“Chanyeol made me pregnant,” Baekhyun said proudly, glancing cutely at his alpha. Remembering Chanyeol's and his father's reaction after seeing the positive pregnancy test as his Chistmas gift to them.

Kyungsoo facepalmed with a chuckle. “Of course, pup.” Then he turned to Chanyeol, giving his shoulder a congratulatory tap. “Congrats, alpha. I hope you are suffering well.”

But Chanyeol just smirked. “Sorry, but I’m enjoying it.” Baekhyun wasn’t being difficult during his early pregnancy. He mostly just slept, painted, and had a few little tantrums. Other than that, he was normal, happy, and cute most of the time.

They all sat down to eat, and a few minutes later, Sehun and Kai arrived. The teasing began immediately, with both of them ganging up on Chanyeol about fatherhood. Baekhyun just giggled, flipping open the photo album to show them pictures with his dad and Berry.

When the cake came out, they sang the birthday song together. Baekhyun burst into tears halfway through, making everyone panic.

Through his tears, Baekhyun confessed, voice trembling, “This is… my first birthday song. My first cake. My first birthday celebration.”

The table fell silent, hearts aching. But then Baekhyun smiled through his tears, holding Chanyeol’s hand tightly.

“Finally, I got to experience all of this. Thank you.”

His pretty smile melted their hearts, soft and genuine, glowing even through the shimmer of tears in his eyes. Everyone at the table fell silent, overwhelmed by the quiet sincerity in his words.

Then they start to comfort him, one by one assuring him that from now on they will celebrate every occasion with him.

Baekhyun was so thankful—thankful that he was no longer alone, that he was surrounded by the right people now. He thought of the years of loneliness, of the pain he once believed would never end. And yet here he was, with his mate by his side, friends who embraced him like family, and a new life growing inside him.

He may have suffered before, but tonight, he realized life wasn’t that cruel after all. It had given him another chance—a chance to live happily, to love and be loved in return.

Time had softened his scars, and he no longer carried hatred in his heart. He didn’t hate his mother or his brother for what they had done. Perhaps, he thought, they had their own reasons. Wherever they were now, he only wished them peace.

Baekhyun’s smile lingered as he leaned closer to Chanyeol, his hand instinctively covering the small swell of his stomach. Surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the people who truly cared for him, he thought—this must be what it feels like to finally have a home.

Chapter Text

Hello everyone,

Thank you so much for supporting me until the very end of this story. It has been one amazing ride, and I’m so grateful for every read, comment, and reaction. When I started writing this, I honestly thought it would only be around ten chapters long, but it grew into my longest work yet. The characters pulled me in deeper than I expected, and I wanted to give justice to their journey. Still, I chose to end it here rather than dragging things out because I didn’t want the story to feel repetitive or lose its impact and I would like to give room for you to imagine your own ending after the last chapter.

Another reason is that I already have a new story in mind. This one will be different—heavier, darker, and more intense. I can’t say yet if it will have a happy ending, because I’m still learning how to write those in a way that feels genuine. But if you continue supporting me, be ready for a toxic, dangerous, and even psycho version of Baekhyun. It’s a challenge I’m excited to take on, and I hope you’ll look forward to it.

While waiting, I also hope you’ll check out my other works. Each one is special to me.

What's Left of Me - angst with happy ending
When my Light Fades - heavy angst with sad ending
Room 2B - a short 2k words that I wrote after listening to a song
Blooming Days - is Pending and unfinished

If you enjoyed this journey, maybe you’ll find something else among them that speaks to you too.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for being here. Whether you’ve been reading from the start or found this story along the way, your support has made this experience so meaningful. I hope you’ll continue to walk with me in the stories ahead.

With love,
Aera

--- The End ---