Chapter Text
Changbin wakes to an empty bed. A pit forms in his stomach. He feels empty and hollow without Chan near him and in him, surrounding him with his scent and strength and steady presence. His fever has passed and he can tell his heat is over, but that doesn’t explain Chan’s absence. Does he regret sharing his heat? Changbin swallows thickly, a lump forming in his throat.
Does he regret bonding with him?
At the thought of the mark, Changbin presses his finger tips against the newly raised skin and feels the thrumming connection, a wave of longing and love not lost echoes back at him. The worry he felt at Chan’s absence is quickly replaced with a righteous indignation.
He scrambles out of their bed, throws on a pair of boxer briefs, and storms out the door into the living room. A snarl curls his lips as he sees Jisung sitting there playing a game on his phone. At the sudden noise, Jisung drops his phone and raises his hands in surrender.
“Minho!” He calls with a desperate glance to the kitchen where Changbin hears shuffling of feet and the smell of bacon and pancakes.
He doesn’t feel rational. His mate is nowhere near and one of his best friends lounges on his couch as if everything is normal when it’s not and could never be when Chan isn’t here. Tears prick his eyes and he growls again, blinking fast to stop the onslaught, but Jisung, though not always perceptive, notices.
“Oh, Bin.” He begins to stand up, but Changbin can’t and won’t accept comfort from anyone right now. In fact, he has a few choice words for Chan too, but Minho rounds the corner with a soft frown.
The sight of another alpha in his and Chan’s apartment, makes Changbin woozy and weak with a need to find his mate. He feels himself start to detach from the present moment, floating on the periphery, and panicking at what this all means. He can’t even form words, at a loss for what’s happening within him.
“Fuck,” Jisung mutters, somehow closer. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
Minho gives him a warning glare, but there’s no small amount of affection behind the gentle scolding. “Bin,” Minho starts, but Changbin shakes his head, not wanting to hear it.
“Chan is here.”
At the mention of his mate’s name, Changbin lets loose a ragged breath that sounds more like a sob. In the guest room across the hall, he hears a resounding growl. Slick pools in his boxers and his knees weaken. The sound of Chan’s frustration dissolves into a whine, a soul shattering groan, and Changbin can’t help the ache that diffuses within and through him. It’s encompassing and devastating. He sways on his feet. His dizzying gaze lands on Minho.
“He’s in rut. Your heat triggered it. Or maybe the bond did.” Minho says slowly, carefully.
Changbin sucks in a breath and his response is immediate. One step in front of the other he presses through the thick, murkiness in his mind and staggers toward the guest room. A hand on his arm stops him and he snarls at Jisung’s neck. His friend backs up instantly, collapsing back onto the couch. Minho is at Changbin’s side immediately and he grips his forearm with the strength of an alpha who’s mate was threatened.
“Watch it, Bin,” Minho warns.
Changbin grips his head in his hands and groans with the fresh wave of sea salt spray that rushes beneath the door frame where Chan restlessly fights off his rut without the help of his mate. Without him. “I’m sorry. I–”
Chan lets loose a groan so deep and painful that Changbin’s eyes blur with tears.
“He doesn’t want to hurt you.” Minho says, gentle and kind. He doesn’t release the hold he has on Changbin though.
“He wouldn’t.” Changbin declares with a finality. Minho glances at Jisung who nods in agreement.
Minho sighs, tightening his hold on Changbin’s arm. “He woke up with a fever this morning after your heat passed, and he immediately called us.”
“He said his rut symptoms have never been this intense.”
Changbin tests the strength of Minho once more, and regrets it immediately. His hold tightens, and Changbin grimaces.
“I’m sorry, Bin.” Minho loosens his hold enough to help him relax.
“He doesn’t trust himself.” Jisung says with a small shrug. “He wants to pass this on his own, and–
“He needs me.” Changbin finds his footing and grinds his teeth together. His jaw clicks with the force of it.
“Bin–”
“Let me just see him. Talk to him.” Changbin argues, finding clarity in the possibility to make sure Chan is okay and safe and truly wants this.
Without him.
Jisung shrugs and Minho sighs at his lack of backbone. “If this goes badly, I’m blaming you.” He releases his hold on Changbin’s arm.
“We’ll be out here if you need anything.” Jisung says with a wink that has Changbin shoving his arm with an annoyed gentleness that only Jisung can invoke in others.
The steps he takes to the guest room are unsteady and uncertain. Maybe Jisung and Minho were just being kind. Maybe Chan doesn’t want to spend his rut with him. A convenient lie he told them even. To protect Changbin? He has only ever felt truly safe with Chan.
He grips the door knob and braces himself. His heart drops to his stomach at the sight before him.
Chan has his hands tied behind his head, attached to the headboard, tight enough that even when he pulls on them with a ragged stretch the restraints don’t budge.
“Bin, you shouldn’t–” A deep groan escapes him at the sudden shift in the room as Changbin shuts the door behind him with finality.
“If you don’t want me,” Changbin’s voice is weak and weary. His hands shake and his heart quivers at the arrow ready to strike. “Tell me now, and I’ll leave.”
Chan’s hands clench into fists. His knuckles turn white and the stark contrast is apparent against the black rope. “I–” His eyes darken and he growls in frustration, a deep guttural sound that makes Changbin leak with want. Chan’s sharp, dark eyes land on him again. “I always want you.”
“I trust you.” He says, and Chan whines, shaking his head.
“I’ve never felt like this. I can’t–” Chan grunts as Changbin takes a step closer to the bed. “Bin, please, I–I don’t feel in control.”
“Then let me be.”
Changbin feels the despair that settled in him the moment he woke up like rock formations. Yet with a steady and immovable quake in the face of his resolve, it deteriorates like shaken earth. The sudden clarity in Chan’s eyes casts sunlight in the darkest parts of Changbin’s soul.
Chan relaxes, an imperceptible twitch of his muscles that go lax at the idea of letting go of it all. The tension. The weight of denial. The fear of harm. And the longing that was thick in the room–solid and immoveable–now dispersing into an aching need that Changbin is more than happy to fill.
Chan nods, a light shake of his head at him and that’s all the communication he needs to close the distance between him and the bed. He sits down on the edge, mind hazy with lust at the close proximity of Chan and the way he stares at him as if he wants to take him apart only to put him back together. Made new in the love they share.
He swallows around the desire to jump his mate, and instead, brushes his fingers through the sweaty strands of hair, falling haphazardly across Chan’s forehead.
Chan keens at the touch and presses into the palm of Changbin’s hand, nipping at his wrist. Changbin sighs, a blissful rush of air released, and cradles the side of Chan’s face. “We need to make some things clear first.” Chan waits, patient and tracking his every movement. “I’m not going to release your hands.”
Chan swallows and his eyes dart downward, a flickering of shame palpable in the room.
“Look at me, love.”
Chan’s gaze flickers back to his warily. “It’s not because I’m scared you’ll hurt me.” The confused glint in Chan’s wavering gaze makes Changbin smirk. “Someone needs to be punished for leaving me alone in bed after my heat.”
Chan whines at the thought of Changbin being alone all by himself after they bonded and the desperate sound turns into a groan so deep and vast when Changbin strips out of his boxers. He clambers on top of Chan and straddles his waist. He is still dressed in his shorts, but his hard cock is apparent and Changbin can’t wait to taste it.
“You made me think you regretted bonding me in my heat.” Changbin says as he skates a hand down his chest.
Changbin grips his dick, stroking it with a playful smirk as Chan groans out a helpless declaration of, “Never.”
The promise of the union and the echoed longing and want in Chan’s gaze and words make Changbin quake and more slick leaks from him. He dips his other hand past his cock that hardens with every stroke, dripping precum onto Chan’s shorts, and plays with his slick and swollen hole.
Chan jerks up into him, desperate for friction, but Changbin won’t let him have it yet. “Bin, please, fuck I–”
Changbin moans and closes his eyes, putting on a show and relishing in the heat of Chan’s gaze and the way he can hear the restraints pulling and tugging. He delights in the devotion laced in every fever-soaked moan and call of his name, a chanted plea, a beckoning of divinity that only Changbin can grant Chan.
He shoves two fingers past his entrance and he groans at the intrusion, pressing down into the heat of himself and gasping out words that he barely registers. “God, Chan, you fucked me so good through my heat. I could barely breathe with how much I-” Changbin gasps as he hits the spot that has him seeing stars. He chokes on a groan. Quickening his pace on his cock, he latches onto the praise falling past Chan’s lips.
“You’re so gorgeous, Bin, fuck–I want to eat you out and fuck you until I knot you so deep and hard that you feel it for weeks.”
Changbin cries out, twisting his fingers. His hand is a blur on his cock and he groans as Chan continues.
“If you let me out of these restraints, I’ll fuck you so good. You’ll never want me to not be in you, around you. You’ll taste it how deep I drive into you, and you’ll beg for more until you’re sobbing with the desire for relief but also wanting it to go on and on forever.” Chan babbles, pulling on the tethered rope and grunting as Changbin calls his name over and over as he finds release, spilling on Chan’s stomach and dripping slick down his legs.
Changbin collapses against Chan’s chest and nuzzles against his neck. He can feel the racing heart of his mate and how it echoes and beats within him–matched in their own metronome beat.
Chan jerks into him, rubs and grinds his aching clothed dick against Changbin’s channel and he gasps, ruts back into it. It’s messy and delicious and full of a delirious rhythm driven by the insatiable volcanic heat driving them into a cataclysmic burst that has Changbin gasping into Chan’s neck and spilling once more.
“Chan, I–” He groans and feels empty and needs and needs and needs.
“I know, love,” Chan’s voice sounds as wrecked as his and he pulls once more on the cords. “Is my punishment over? Because I really, desperately, truly need to fuck you until you can’t walk away.”
Changbin whines and decides that he’s served enough discipline for today. For now, he wants exactly what Chan promises. His voice thick with a lust only reserved for him and laden with a force so powerful that it compels Changbin, not to blindly follow, but dedicate himself with an abandon that is both wicked and full of a heavenly delight in what they create. Like the original sin partaken is best shared.