Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The hospital hallways gleamed under bright fluorescent lights, polished tiles echoing every hurried footstep. Jeng moved carefully, shoulders stiff, his grip on the stack of files tight enough to crumple the edges. His white coat felt too big, too stiff, like a costume he wasn’t worthy of wearing yet. The nametag clipped to his chest said 'Dentistry Resident' that weighed him down rather than lifted him up.

He had practiced all morning, smiling politely, introducing himself with soft words, but inside he was a storm. His eyes stayed lowered whenever someone passed. He wanted to blend in, to be invisible, to survive his first day without embarrassing himself.

“New face.”

The words rang out smoothly, deep, and utterly confident.

Jeng froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned his head.

Leaning against the wall, as if the hallway itself belonged to him, stood Dr. Karn.

Tall, broad-shouldered, his posture exuding the kind of power that didn’t need to be announced, Karn looked nothing like the nervous young dentist standing before him. His lab coat was perfectly fitted, hanging off his frame with ease. A stethoscope dangled carelessly around his neck, and his dark shirt beneath clung in all the right places, hinting at a chest and arms honed through more than casual gym visits. His hair was immaculately styled, jaw sharp, lips curved in a smile that was both amused and predatory.

“Dr. Karn,” he introduced himself, though his name hardly needed it-everyone in the hospital already knew who he was. Nephew of the director, the man walked these halls untouchable, with money and influence shielding him like armor.

Jeng swallowed, his voice breaking as he forced words out. “I-I’m Jeng. Dentistry. Just started today.”

Karn’s eyes gleamed, slow and deliberate as they swept over him, the trembling fingers clutching the files, the uncertain shift of weight from one foot to another, the way Jeng’s lips parted as though searching for air.

“Dentist, hm?” Karn drawled, pushing off the wall and stepping closer, invading space without hesitation. His presence carried heat, a deliberate weight pressing down on Jeng’s already shaky composure. “Guess I'll have to get myself an appointment. Might need someone gentle.”

The way he said gentle made Jeng’s stomach twist.

“I-uh-that’s-sure,” Jeng stammered, ears turning red. “Anytime.”

Karn tilted his head, studying him, lips curving wider. “Cute,” he murmured. Then, with a lean so subtle yet invasive, his mouth brushed dangerously close to Jeng’s ear. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite.” A pause, heavy with implication. “Unless you want me to.”

Jeng nearly dropped the files.

---

The day did not bring relief. Wherever Jeng turned, Karn appeared.

In the staff room, Karn slid into the seat beside him, thigh brushing thigh, smirking at every flinch. In the corridor, Karn’s hand would 'accidentally' graze his arm, lingering just long enough to send Jeng’s breath into chaos. Once, Jeng tried to escape through a side hall, only to find Karn leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, grin lazy but eyes sharp with intent.

Each time, Jeng mumbled short answers, cheeks burning, wishing the floor would swallow him. And yet, despite the mortification, despite the trembling in his chest, he couldn’t deny the pull. Karn’s confidence, his tone, his body language, all of it sent a dangerous heat coiling in Jeng’s gut.

---

By nightfall, exhaustion weighed on him more than the files in his bag. He hurried toward the exit, desperate to breathe away from Karn’s shadow.

But of course, he was waiting.

“Jeng”

The sound of his name was rich, commanding. Jeng turned, and there Karn was, standing beside a sleek black car, one hand resting on the roof as though it were an accessory rather than a machine. The parking lot lights carved shadows across his features, highlighting the cut of his jaw, the smug tilt of his smile. His tie was loosened, top buttons undone, revealing just enough of the toned chest beneath to make Jeng’s mouth dry.

“Need a ride?"

The question wasn’t a question; it was an inevitability. Jeng’s lips parted, ready to refuse, but the weight of Karn’s gaze rooted him to the spot. Against every trembling instinct, he nodded.

The car interior was leather, smooth and expensive, carrying the faint scent of cologne—spice and smoke, intoxicating. Jeng sat stiffly in the passenger seat, clutching his bag to his chest like armor.

The engine roared softly to life, and then Karn’s hand slid over. Resting, no, claiming Jeng’s thigh.

The breath caught in Jeng’s throat, chest heaving with a stutter he couldn’t control.

Karn didn’t even look at him. His lips curved into a knowing smile as his eyes stayed on the road. “Relax. You’ll get used to me.”

The drive blurred by in a haze of heat and nerves, Jeng’s thoughts tumbling so wildly he could barely register the streets. His entire body focused on that single hand, warm, heavy, unmoving, burning through the fabric of his trousers.

Finally, the car slowed to a stop outside Jeng’s apartment. But Karn didn’t withdraw. Instead, his fingers tightened, squeezing just enough to make Jeng jolt.

“Tell me something” Karn said, finally turning to look at him, eyes sharp and unreadable. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Jeng’s throat bobbed. “N-no…”

Karn’s smile deepened, wicked. “Good. Then let’s be clear, Jeng.” His hand squeezed again, firmer this time. “If you want me to stop, say it now, and I’ll walk away. But if you’re even a little interested…” His voice dropped, velvet and dangerous. “…I’m going to pursue you. Openly. Completely.”

Jeng’s face went scarlet, heat crawling up his neck. His lips fumbled uselessly for words, but nothing came. With a muffled sound of frustration at himself, he grabbed his bag and pushed out of the car, nearly tripping in his haste.

Karn chuckled lowly, watching him stumble toward the building, flustered and red. The sound lingered in the night like a promise.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Jeng thought maybe, just maybe, yesterday had been a fluke. That Karn had gotten bored, that someone else had caught his attention. He tucked himself into his corner of the cafeteria, head down over a tray of untouched food, hoping to disappear into the background.

Of course, that hope lasted all of five minutes.

“Skipping breakfast isn’t healthy, doctor.”

The voice was unmistakable. Smooth, confident, far too amused.

Jeng’s head jerked up, and there was Karn, sliding into the chair across from him as though he’d been invited. His tie was already loosened, his sleeves rolled up, forearms corded with muscle on full display. He leaned forward, chin balanced on his hand, eyes glinting like he was enjoying a private joke.

“You’ll faint in the middle of a root canal at this rate.”

Jeng blinked rapidly, clutching his fork like a weapon. “I-I’m fine. Really.”

Karn smirked, unbothered. “You’re nervous.”

The words were too blunt, too sharp, and Jeng almost dropped the fork. His face heated instantly.

"n-no, I’m not.”

Karn’s grin widened, like he’d just won a small victory. “Relax, Jeng. I told you, I’m going to pursue you. I don’t hide my interests.”

The confidence in his tone made Jeng’s stomach twist. He had no idea how to respond, so he ducked his head, poking at his food as if it suddenly needed his full attention.

---

It became routine after that.

Whenever Jeng slipped into an empty corridor to gather himself, Karn seemed to appear, blocking the doorway with a lazy lean, arms crossed, that maddening grin on his face. Sometimes, he would guide Jeng into one of the supply rooms, his hand warm and firm against the small of his back.

One afternoon, Karn tugged him inside and lifted him easily onto the counter, stepping between his legs before Jeng could protest.

“Why do you keep running?” Karn asked, voice lower than usual, his hand braced beside Jeng’s thigh. “Do I scare you that much?”

Jeng’s hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white. He stared at Karn’s chest, at the way the shirt stretched over muscle, unable to meet his eyes. His pulse thundered in his ears.

“I… I don’t know how to deal with you,” he admitted softly, words almost swallowed by the hum of fluorescent lights.

Karn’s expression shifted, just slightly, still cocky, still dominant, but softer at the edges. “Then don’t deal with me. Just let me be here.”

When Karn reached forward, brushing a stray lock of hair from Jeng’s forehead, Jeng didn’t flinch this time.

---

Days passed, and slowly, so slowly, Jeng’s edges softened.

He still startled when Karn’s hand brushed against his back in the hall, but the flush on his cheeks wasn’t entirely embarrassment anymore. He still stuttered when Karn leaned too close, but sometimes he caught himself smiling at the teasing instead of panicking.

One evening, after another long shift, Karn cornered him again, this time in the locker room. Jeng was stuffing his things into his bag when a warm hand caught his wrist.

“Come here,” Karn said, pulling gently.

Jeng looked up, nervous, but let himself be guided. He was tugged closer, until his back rested against the cool row of lockers and Karn stood before him, a wall of heat and confidence.

“You’re loosening up,” Karn murmured, brushing a thumb lightly across Jeng’s knuckles. “Not running so fast anymore.”

Jeng’s lips parted. His heartbeat was erratic, but his shoulders weren’t as tense as before. He managed a small, shaky laugh. “Maybe I’m… getting used to you.”

Karn’s grin softened into something more genuine. He leaned down, close enough for Jeng to feel the warmth of his breath. “Good. Because I don’t plan on stopping.”

For the first time, Jeng didn’t run. He stayed pressed against the lockers, chest heaving, cheeks flushed,but his eyes held Karn’s for more than a second.

And Karn smiled like he’d just been handed a victory worth savoring.

Chapter Text

The week blurred in long shifts and endless files, yet for Jeng, every day seemed to orbit one person.

Karn.

The man had a way of appearing everywhere Jeng turned. At first, it was suffocating, anxiety spiking whenever those dark eyes caught his. But now, the panic was changing, shifting into something Jeng couldn’t name. It wasn’t fear anymore, not exactly. It was a flutter, a pull, a dangerous warmth that made him restless when Karn wasn’t around.

---

That afternoon, Jeng slipped into an unused consultation room, needing a breather. He dropped into a chair, exhaling shakily, telling himself to calm down.

The door clicked shut behind him.

“Hiding again?”

Jeng’s head snapped up. Karn leaned against the door, sleeves rolled up, smirk sharp and unbothered. He pushed off and crossed the room in a few slow, deliberate steps.

Before Jeng could protest, Karn’s hands slid under his arms, and with effortless strength he lifted him onto the counter.

“Better height,” Karn said, eyes glinting. “Now I don’t have to bend so much.”

Jeng’s face went crimson. “D-Dr. Karn-”

“Karn” he interrupted smoothly, stepping between Jeng’s knees. His voice was low, teasing. “Drop the title. We’re not at a board meeting.”

Jeng’s breath stuttered as Karn leaned close, bracing a hand on the counter beside him. The scent of his cologne, warm spice and something darker, filled Jeng’s nose, dizzying him.

“You look better when you stop running,” Karn murmured. “Relax, Jeng. I’m not here to scare you.”

Jeng clutched the edge of the counter, shoulders tense, but not rigid like before. His chest rose and fell quickly, yet he didn’t shrink away this time.

“I…” His voice faltered. He looked down at Karn’s broad chest, the way his shirt stretched over firm muscle. “I don’t know why I’m letting you…”

Karn tilted his head, smirk softening. “Because you want to. You just won’t admit it yet.”

The words burned. Jeng shook his head quickly, cheeks red. But he didn’t move away.

---

Later that week, the cafeteria was packed. Jeng sat at a corner table, as usual, pushing at his food. A tray clattered beside him.

Karn sat down uninvited, sliding a takeaway coffee across the table.

“You drink too much tea,” Karn said matter-of-factly, watching him with a faint grin. “Coffee’s better for keeping up with me.”

Jeng blinked at the cup, then at him. “You… brought this for me?”

Karn raised an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so shocked. I’m not always an ass.”

Something in Jeng loosened at that. He laughed, awkward but genuine, and Karn’s smile deepened at the sound.

For the rest of lunch, Jeng didn’t bolt. He stayed, shoulders gradually relaxing, the air between them humming with something both new and familiar.

---

That evening, Jeng nearly fell asleep on his feet while leaving the hospital. His bag slipped from his shoulder, his whole body aching with exhaustion.

“You look like hell,” Karn’s voice drawled.

Jeng startled. Karn was leaning against his car again, tie undone, shirt collar loose. The lamplight highlighted the hard lines of his chest, the casual arrogance in his stance.

“Get in. I’ll drop you.”

Jeng hesitated only a moment before obeying. The car was warm, leather seats molding to him.

Halfway through the drive, Karn’s hand found his thigh again. This time, Jeng didn’t jump. His breath caught, yes, but he stayed still. His fingers clutched his bag tightly, but his body didn’t push away.

Karn glanced at him, lips twitching into a knowing grin. “See? You’re getting used to me.”

Jeng looked out the window, face burning. But a small, unbidden smile tugged at his lips.

And for once, he didn’t feel the urge to escape.

Chapter Text

The hospital had its rhythms, the clatter of carts, the echo of footsteps, the low murmur of conversations. Jeng was learning to move with it, to blend in, to find a place for himself in the endless corridors.

But something was different now.

It wasn’t just the patients or the schedules he paid attention to. His eyes strayed, almost involuntarily, searching for a certain tall figure in rolled-up sleeves, leaning lazily against a wall like he owned it. He hated admitting it, even to himself, but he found his chest loosening, his nerves settling, when Karn was nearby.

And on the rare occasions he didn’t see him for hours, the absence gnawed.

---

It happened one afternoon in the staff lounge. Jeng sat at the counter, flipping through patient notes. He tried to look engrossed, but his eyes flicked up at every new arrival, waiting for that familiar grin.

When Karn finally walked in, shoulders broad, coat slung casually over one arm, Jeng’s breath hitched. Too obvious. He ducked his head, pretending to read.

But Karn noticed. Karn always noticed.

“Looking for me?”

The words curled smooth and smug into Jeng’s ears. Karn leaned down, bracing one hand on the counter beside Jeng, invading his space with deliberate ease.

Jeng startled. “N-no, I was just-”

Karn chuckled, low and knowing. His free hand slipped onto Jeng’s shoulder, warm through the thin fabric of his coat. “You’re terrible at lying.”

Jeng’s face flamed, but this time he didn’t shake the hand off. Instead, he bit his lip, trying to hide the small, nervous smile tugging at his mouth.

---

Later that day, Karn struck again.

An empty exam room, door clicking shut. Karn’s hand caught Jeng’s wrist, guiding him inside before he could think.

“You always drag me into these rooms,” Jeng muttered, his attempt at protest feeble at best.

Karn grinned, pushing him gently onto the counter. “Because it’s the only way to get you to myself.”

He stepped in close, hips brushing Jeng’s knees, hands resting casually on either side of him. The air between them tightened, thick with the unspoken.

“You like this,” Karn murmured, tilting his head, studying every flicker of Jeng’s expression. “Me chasing you. Admit it."

Jeng’s heart stuttered violently. His lips parted, fumbling. “I don’t-”

Karn leaned closer, close enough that Jeng could feel the heat of his breath against his cheek. “Don’t lie. You’re still here.”

The words landed heavy. Jeng’s throat tightened, but he didn’t move. He didn’t run.

“I…” His voice was soft, trembling but honest. “…don’t hate it.”

Karn’s grin shifted, less sharp now, more like satisfaction laced with warmth. He reached up, tipping Jeng’s chin with two fingers until their eyes locked.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

The silence stretched, electric, unbearably charged. For a moment, it seemed Karn might close the space between them entirely. But instead, he only let his thumb brush lightly over Jeng’s jaw, teasingly gentle, before pulling back.

Jeng exhaled shakily, chest tight, face burning.

Karn stepped away, smile wicked but eyes warm. “Relax. I’m patient. But I told you, I’m not stopping.”

And as Jeng slid off the counter, knees weak, he realized with startling clarity, he didn’t want him to stop.

Chapter Text

The day had been merciless.

Jeng had been running from one patient to another since morning, no time to even sip water. His body was still adjusting to the long hours of hospital life, but today was different, brutal in a way he hadn’t expected. He was new, a rookie, yet his supervisor had pushed case after case onto him with little room to breathe.

By late afternoon, he already felt the strain. His hands shook as he held his instruments, his head buzzing from the constant fluorescent lights above. But it was one case, a complicated extraction gone wrong,that finally broke him.

Too much blood.
The smell of iron hit him harder than anything he’d ever experienced. It clung to his gloves, seeped into his mind. He tried to focus, to be professional, but the sight blurred in front of him and he felt bile rise in his throat. Somehow, he pushed through, finishing the procedure, smiling weakly at the patient as if nothing was wrong.

But the moment the door closed behind them, his smile cracked. His knees wobbled. His chest tightened.

He stumbled into an empty consultation room, shutting the door behind him. Dropping the files onto the counter, he leaned against it, pressing a clammy hand to his forehead. His heart raced, breath uneven.

Just breathe… just breathe…

The walls tilted. His stomach lurched. Dizziness swept over him in waves. He tried to walk toward the chair in the corner, but his legs gave out. Darkness pulled at the edges of his vision.

He was falling.

And then; he wasn’t.

Strong arms wrapped around him, catching him just before his head could hit the floor.

“Jeng!”

The voice was frantic, trembling with panic. Through his haze, he saw a familiar face, Dr. Karn, usually so smug and composed, now pale with alarm. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced with something raw, something terrifying.

“Jeng, what's wrong- hey, look at me!” Karn’s voice cracked. For the first time, Jeng heard fear in it.

The door burst open as Karn shouted, his voice like a thunderclap. “Get a bed in here! Now! MOVE!”

Staff rushed inside, startled by the sheer authority in his tone. Karn scooped Jeng up in his arms without hesitation, carrying him out of the room as if he weighed nothing. His stride was fast, unrelenting, the muscles in his jaw tight.

“Don’t just stand around!” he barked, his voice echoing through the corridor. “Get me saline. Monitor his vitals. Now!”

Nurses scrambled to obey, wheeling a bed into the hallway. Karn lowered Jeng onto it carefully, his large hand still steadying his head. His usual playfulness was gone, what radiated from him now was terrifying control, an authority that made the air itself feel heavy.

Jeng’s consciousness flickered, but even in his haze, he felt Karn’s hand gripping his wrist, checking his pulse, the other brushing back his damp hair. His eyes, sharp, furious, afraid, never left Jeng’s face.

Time blurred. He heard murmurs, the clatter of equipment, Karn’s voice cutting through it all, steady and commanding. He didn’t leave his side.

And then,

A flutter of eyelashes. A sharp inhale.

Jeng opened his eyes.

The light was blinding at first, but soon it softened into clarity. Karn’s face hovered close above him, his usually sharp features softened with relief, though his eyes still burned with residual fear.

“You’re awake” Karn murmured, his voice lower, rougher than usual. He slid an arm around Jeng’s shoulders, helping him sit up against the pillows. “Easy. Don’t rush.”

Jeng’s throat felt dry. “I’m… fine.” His voice came out weak, barely a whisper.

Karn’s jaw tightened. “No, you’re not. What happened?”

Jeng froze. His instinct was to minimize it, to hide the weakness. He bit his lip, staring down at his trembling hands. “…I just haven’t been sleeping well. That’s all.”

Karn’s eyes narrowed, sharp and penetrating. His voice dropped, dangerously quiet. “Don’t lie to me, Jeng."

The weight of his gaze was too much. Jeng’s defenses cracked. His voice broke as the truth slipped out, trembling.

“My supervisor…” he whispered. “He keeps assigning me extra cases. I barely get to eat some days. I thought I could handle it, but-” his shoulders slumped, shame flooding him, “-I couldn’t.”

Silence.

Karn’s face darkened, his entire body going rigid. His voice, when it came, was icy steel. “Who.”

Jeng blinked up at him, startled by the sharpness. “Karn it's fine-”

Karn cut him off, turning to the nurses nearby. “Tell his supervisor I want him in my office tomorrow morning. If he thinks he can burn out his staff like this, he’s finished.”

The words rang through the room like a commandment. No one dared argue. The nurses nodded quickly, disappearing without question.

Jeng stared at him, wide-eyed. For the first time, he saw a side of Karn that was terrifyingly authoritative, no trace of his usual smirk, no teasing tone. This was a man who carried power in his hands and wielded it without hesitation.

When the room cleared, Karn turned back to him. His hand came up to cup the back of Jeng’s head gently, grounding him.

“Jeng.” His voice softened, though it still carried a dangerous edge. “Listen to me. I like you. I’m not hiding that anymore. And if you’re mine, if you’re with me, then no one, no one gets to treat you like this. Do you understand?”

Jeng’s heart stuttered. His lips parted, but words didn’t come at first. He was too overwhelmed by the storm of emotions, the exhaustion, the fear, the fierce protectiveness burning in Karn’s eyes.

But then, quietly, shakily, he found his voice. “I… like you too.”

Karn froze for a moment, as if making sure he’d heard right. Then his expression softened, the tension in his shoulders loosening. Slowly, he pulled Jeng against his chest, his arms wrapping around him in a steady, protective embrace.

Jeng sank into him, weak but safe. His head rested against Karn’s solid chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

Karn bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Good,” he whispered, his voice rough with unspoken emotion. “Because I’m not letting anyone hurt you again. Not while I’m here.”

And for the first time since his first day at the hospital, Jeng let himself believe it.

He was safe; with Karn.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Jeng walked into the hospital with a strange heaviness in his chest. His body still felt weak, though Karn had practically ordered him to rest last night. But it wasn’t just fatigue, he knew what was waiting.

Karn had told him in no uncertain terms: “You’ll be in my office tomorrow morning. With him. I want you there.”

And so he was.

When Jeng stepped inside, Karn was already there, sitting behind his desk, posture sharp, every line of his body radiating authority. The cocky smirk he usually wore was absent. Today, he was ice.

“Sit,” Karn said gently, gesturing toward the chair beside his. Jeng obeyed, his hands twisting nervously in his lap.

The door opened again.

Jeng’s supervisor entered, his face pale and uncertain. He looked from Karn to Jeng, and for the first time, he seemed to realize he was in trouble.

Karn didn’t waste time. He slid a file across the desk, its papers splayed open. “Your record-keeping,” Karn said flatly. “I reviewed it last night.”

The supervisor swallowed hard.

Karn’s voice rose, sharp as a blade. “Do you realize what this shows? You’ve been assigning a rookie-” he pointed at Jeng, his tone snapping like a whip, “-to cases even senior staff hesitate to take. Intense, complicated, bloody procedures that no beginner should be handling. And then you overwork him to the point of collapse.”

The room trembled with Karn’s fury.

The supervisor stammered, “S-Sir, he needed the experience—”

“Experience?” Karn slammed his palm against the desk, the sound making Jeng flinch. “Experience does not mean exploitation! He fainted yesterday. He could’ve injured himself, or worse—a patient could’ve been harmed under his care. All because of your incompetence and negligence.”

The man shrank back, his voice faltering. “I… I didn’t realize—”

Karn stood, towering over him, his shadow long and heavy. His voice dropped into a dangerous growl. “You didn’t realize? Or you didn’t care?”

Silence.

The supervisor couldn’t meet his eyes.

Karn leaned forward, his tone final, cold as steel. “You’re done here. Effective immediately. Pack your things. You will not step foot in this hospital again.”

The man tried to protest, but Karn cut him off with a stern command: “OUT.”

The word was so sharp, so filled with power, that the man didn’t dare linger. He left, the door shutting behind him with a hollow echo.

Silence filled the office. The tension seemed to dissolve slowly, leaving only the sound of Jeng’s uneven breathing.

Karn exhaled, running a hand through his hair, before turning to Jeng. The anger was gone from his expression now, replaced with something softer, almost vulnerable. “You won’t have to deal with him again. I’ll assign you to someone who actually knows how to train a rookie properly. Someone who won’t run you into the ground.”

Jeng blinked at him, stunned. His chest tightened, a lump forming in his throat. No one had ever stood up for him like this. No one had ever fought for him so fiercely.

“Thank you,” Jeng whispered, his voice breaking just a little. “For… everything.”

Karn looked at him for a long moment, then stepped closer. He crouched slightly so their eyes were level, his hand brushing lightly over Jeng’s shoulder. “You don’t need to thank me. Protecting you… that’s my choice.”

Jeng’s cheeks warmed, his heart skipping. He couldn’t bring himself to look away.

For a moment, Karn’s confident mask slipped again, revealing the man beneath, someone who cared far more deeply than he let on.

Karn smiled, gentle and certain. “I told you yesterday, Jeng. I like you. And I meant it.”

Jeng’s lips curved into the faintest smile, his voice trembling but sure. “I know. And… I like you too.”

Karn’s expression softened further, pride and relief flickering in his eyes. He reached out, squeezing Jeng’s hand firmly, grounding him.

And in that moment, Jeng realized, this wasn’t just protection. This was trust. This was something real, something that was only just beginning.

Chapter Text

After the storm with Jeng’s supervisor, things seemed quieter on the surface. The hospital carried on as usual, patients came and went, and Jeng buried himself in his work. But something had shifted, between him and Karn.

Karn hovered more now. Not in an overbearing way, but in that subtle, impossible-to-ignore Alpha way. He found excuses to pass Jeng in the halls, to brush against him, to pull him into an empty room with that cocky grin that only softened when it was just the two of them.

And Jeng… Jeng was beginning to let his guard down.

But there was still something he was hiding. Something he’d hidden for years.

Suppressants.

They dulled his scent, his biology, made him just another face in the crowd of Betas and Alphas that surrounded him. He’d taken them religiously since university, after a night he refused to remember, a night that had left him terrified of what it meant to be an Omega.

So Karn never knew.

Until the day Jeng forgot.

---

It was late, nearly midnight, when Karn finally cornered him again. Jeng had been working past his shift, stubbornly finishing up paperwork he should have left for tomorrow. His body was exhausted, but his mind wouldn’t let him rest.

Karn found him hunched over the desk of an empty office, scribbling notes.

“You’re impossible,” Karn muttered, stepping inside, shutting the door behind him. “Do you ever actually go home when you’re supposed to?”

Jeng looked up, ready with a nervous excuse, then froze.

Because Karn froze too.

The Alpha inhaled sharply, his entire body stiffening. His pupils dilated instantly, the muscles in his jaw ticking as if he were holding back something primal.

"An Omega..?” he breathed. His voice was rough, lower than Jeng had ever heard it.

Jeng’s blood ran cold. He hadn’t taken his suppressant dose that morning. His scent, unmasked, sweet, delicate, undeniably Omega, was filling the air. And Karn was inhaling it like a drowning man desperate for oxygen.

Karn moved before Jeng could retreat, closing the space between them in long strides. He caged Jeng against the desk, bracing his arms on either side of him. His head dipped, nose brushing against the curve of Jeng’s throat, and a shudder ran through his body.

“Do you have any idea,” Karn growled, his voice unsteady, “what you’ve been hiding from me?”

Jeng’s heart pounded in his chest. His lips trembled. “I… I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Why?” Karn’s question was sharp, demanding, but his touch was gentle, his fingers ghosting over Jeng’s wrist.

Jeng couldn’t speak. His throat closed up, memories he didn’t want to remember threatening to drown him.

Karn stilled. Slowly, he pulled back enough to see Jeng’s face. His expression was still tense, wild even, but he forced his voice softer. “You don’t have to tell me now. Not if you’re not ready.”

Relief surged through Jeng’s chest, so sharp it almost hurt.

Karn lifted his hand, cupping Jeng’s jaw, tilting his chin up with two fingers. His thumb brushed over the edge of his lip, and Jeng’s breath stuttered.

“Can I kiss you?” Karn’s voice dropped to a whisper, dark and heated, but still giving Jeng the choice.

Jeng’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. His cheeks burned, his body trembling from both fear and something else, something warmer, something he couldn’t ignore anymore. He nodded.

That was all Karn needed.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t hesitant. It was raw, hungry, starved. Karn devoured him, pressing their mouths together with a force that made Jeng gasp. His lips moved desperately, parting Jeng’s with ease, tasting him, consuming him.

Jeng tried to keep up, but he was drowning in the intensity, his knees weak. His hands clutched Karn’s shirt helplessly, anchoring himself as the Alpha kissed him deeper, hungrier, like he’d been waiting for this all along.

When they finally broke apart, both of them gasping, Karn rested his forehead against Jeng’s, breathing ragged. His hands still cradled Jeng’s face, thumbs stroking over flushed skin.

“You’re driving me insane,” Karn whispered, his voice frayed but certain. “Do you understand that? You’ve been right in front of me this whole time, hiding who you are… and now that I know, Jeng, I can’t-” His voice cracked, his restraint faltering as he nuzzled against Jeng’s neck again, inhaling deeply. “I can’t stop wanting you.”

And for once, Jeng didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. He let Karn hold him, let the Alpha’s warmth and strength wrap around him.

Because for some reason, with Karn, being an Omega didn’t feel like something to fear.

Chapter Text

Jeng wasn’t sure why his heart hammered so hard as he stood outside Karn’s apartment that evening. He had stayed late at the hospital, and Karn had coaxed him into coming home with him to rest. It was only for the night, just so he wouldn’t be alone, Karn had said with that easy smile that left Jeng too flustered to argue.

Inside, Karn’s home smelled faintly of his scent, rich, warm, purely Alpha. Without the suppressants in his system anymore, Jeng felt it like a gentle burn under his skin. His own pheromones betrayed him, spilling freely into the air. Karn’s sharp eyes lingered on him as though every breath he took was pulling Jeng deeper into his hold.

“Baby,” Karn drawled, closing the distance, “you’re driving me crazy. Do you even know what you smell like right now?”

Jeng’s face flushed crimson, and he shook his head quickly, fidgeting with his sleeves. “Phi Karn… d-don’t say things like that.”

Karn chuckled, low and indulgent, his larger hand reaching out to ruffle Jeng’s hair before sliding down to his nape, pulling him close. “Sweetheart, you’re in my bed tonight. You think I can just lie here and not touch you?”

Jeng let out a small whimper as Karn guided him onto the wide mattress, settling them down side by side. The Alpha’s body was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around Jeng like he’d been made to fit there. Karn kissed along his hairline, down to his temple, brushing over the curve of his ear before trailing soft nips against his neck.

“Darling,” Karn murmured, lips ghosting over the sensitive spot where his scent glands throbbed, “you smell so good… all I want is to claim you right here.” His hand wandered slowly, deliberately, hovering over Jeng’s chest and tracing the line of his collarbones before brushing against his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Jeng gasped, squirming in Karn’s arms, his body betraying him with shivers. His little hands clutched the Alpha’s shirt, his voice breaking. “Phi… I-”

But then something in Jeng shifted. His breath caught, his shoulders tensed, and instead of flushed arousal, his body froze under Karn’s touch. A flicker of distress crossed his features, and his heartbeat turned frantic for all the wrong reasons.

Karn noticed immediately. The shift in pheromones, the way Jeng’s muscles locked. He stilled his hands at once and pulled back, cupping Jeng’s face with both palms. His teasing smirk was gone, replaced by worry.

“Baby. Hey, hey… look at me.” His voice was firm but gentle, commanding without being forceful. “You’re not okay. We can stop. I won’t push you.”

Jeng blinked up at him, breath trembling, shame flooding his expression. “I’m sorry, Phi… I didn’t mean to-”

Karn pressed his forehead to Jeng’s, silencing him with a soft kiss to his brow. “Sweetheart, don’t you dare apologize. Not to me. Not ever. You hear me?” His thumb brushed over Jeng’s cheek tenderly. “You’re mine to protect, not to break.”

The tension in Jeng’s body eased a little at those words. He let himself sink against Karn’s chest, breathing in the Alpha’s steady, grounding scent. For once, instead of fear, all he felt was safe.

Karn tightened his hold, tucking Jeng under his chin like something precious. “That’s it, darling. Just sleep. Phi’s got you.”

And as Jeng drifted into uneasy but comforted slumber, Karn lay awake, his own desire restrained by sheer willpower. Because as much as his instincts screamed to claim his omega, his heart knew one truth: Jeng’s trust meant more to him than any primal urge ever could.

Chapter Text

The clock ticked past midnight, but Jeng couldn’t sleep. No matter how tightly Karn held him, no matter how warm and secure the Alpha’s arms felt around him, his body wouldn’t relax. His legs shifted restlessly, his fingers twisted into the sheets, his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.

Karn noticed, of course. The way Jeng’s small body squirmed against him wasn’t from desire anymore, it was restlessness, discomfort, something deeper. Karn kissed the side of his head softly.

“Baby,” his voice rumbled, low and gentle, “you’re not sleeping. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Jeng swallowed hard, his throat tight. He tried to stay quiet, but the words clawed at him, begging to be freed after years of silence. “Phi Karn…” His voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

Karn tilted his chin up, brushing his thumb along his jaw. “Sweetheart, you can tell me anything. I’m right here.”

The look in Karn’s eyes, steady, unshakable, so full of warmth, made Jeng tremble. And before he could stop himself, the dam broke.

“My parents…” he began, his voice shaking. “They hated that I was born an omega. They said I was weak, disgusting. During my heats, they wouldn’t even look at me. They called me… shameful.” His lips quivered, and he curled his fingers into Karn’s shirt as though to anchor himself. “That’s when I started taking suppressants. I didn’t want anyone to smell me. I didn’t want to… be me.”

Karn’s heart twisted painfully in his chest, but he didn’t interrupt. He stroked Jeng’s hair slowly, waiting.

Jeng’s breaths grew ragged, his next words coming like shards of glass. “But one day… in med school, I forgot to take them.” His body stiffened, tears spilling down his cheeks. “One of my seniors caught my scent. He… he followed me. Locked me in an empty room.” His whole body trembled now, his voice breaking apart. “He-he assaulted me. I begged him to stop. I cried, Phi Karn. I said it hurt. But he didn’t stop. He just kept going until I-”

Jeng’s words collapsed into choked sobs. He buried his face into Karn’s chest, ashamed, shaking violently. “After that, I never forgot the pills. Never. I couldn’t stand Alphas. I was so scared. I thought… if anyone found out, they’d look at me the way my parents did.”

Karn had gone utterly still, his entire body vibrating with barely restrained rage. His Alpha instincts howled for blood, for retribution, for tearing apart the man who had dared touch what was his. His jaw was clenched so tight it hurt, and his pheromones surged, sharp and furious.

But then Jeng whimpered, clinging to him like he’d shatter without his arms. And Karn forced himself to breathe, to calm down, to be the anchor Jeng needed.

“Oh, baby…” Karn’s voice was hoarse, thick with emotion as he wrapped Jeng tighter in his embrace, tucking him against his chest. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry you went through that.” He kissed the top of Jeng’s head, again and again, like he could erase every cruel word, every scar. “You didn’t deserve any of it. Not from your parents, not from him. None of it was your fault.”

Jeng’s sobs shook through him, but Karn held steady, strong. He cupped Jeng’s tear-streaked face and forced him to look at him. His eyes blazed, but his touch was tender.

“Darling, listen to me. You are not disgusting. You are not weak. You are beautiful, strong, and you’re mine.” Karn’s thumb brushed Jeng’s trembling lips. “I’ll protect you, baby. With everything I have, I’ll protect you. You’ll never have to be afraid of me, or any Alpha, ever again.”

Jeng’s lips quivered, his tears falling freely. “Phi Karn…” His voice was so small, so broken. “Why are you so kind to me?”

Karn pulled him into his chest again, stroking his back slowly. “Because I love you, sweetheart. And I’ll spend every day proving it to you.”

Jeng buried himself into him, sobbing until exhaustion finally pulled him under. And Karn stayed awake, holding him, every muscle in his body taut with fury for what had been stolen from Jeng, and with determination that no one, ever again, would touch what belonged to him.

Chapter Text

The sun had barely crept through the curtains when Jeng stirred. His eyes were puffy, his throat raw from all the crying. For a moment he panicked, heart racing at the memory of everything he’d confessed to Karn the night before.

But then he felt it. The steady weight of Karn’s arm wrapped around his waist, the soft rumble of his Alpha’s breathing at his back. A warmth so steady, so unshakable, it made the panic loosen.

Karn was already awake, though. He’d been awake most of the night, watching over his omega like he was the most fragile, precious thing in the world. When Jeng shifted, Karn’s arm tightened gently around him.

“Good morning, baby,” Karn’s voice was low and warm, still husky from sleep. He kissed the top of Jeng’s head, lingering there. “How’s my sweetheart feeling?”

Jeng swallowed, curling closer to him instinctively. “…Tired. My head hurts.”

Karn shifted so he could see Jeng’s face. He brushed his thumb carefully under Jeng’s swollen eyes, his expression soft, almost unbearably tender. “Of course it does, darling. You cried yourself to sleep.” His gaze darkened just a fraction, but he forced the anger down. Now wasn’t the time. “I’m proud of you for telling me, baby. That wasn’t easy.”

Jeng’s eyes flickered with guilt, shame still tangled in his chest. “Phi… aren’t you… disgusted with me?” His voice cracked on the words.

The question hit Karn like a blade. He cupped Jeng’s chin immediately, tilting his face up so their eyes met. His Alpha pheromones, warm and grounding, flowed out like a protective blanket.

“Sweetheart. Don’t you ever say that again.” His voice was firm, but trembling with emotion. “You’re not disgusting. You’re not broken. You’re the strongest omega I’ve ever met.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Jeng’s lips, nothing demanding, just gentle reassurance. “And you’re mine. All mine. Do you understand, baby?”

Jeng’s eyes watered again, but this time from the overwhelming warmth that bloomed in his chest. He nodded, voice shaking. “Mhm..”

Karn pulled him against his chest again, holding him as if shielding him from the whole world. “Good boy,” he whispered into his hair. “We’ll go slow. As slow as you need. I’ll never push you. But I promise you this, darling, one day, when you’re ready, I’ll show you that being an omega isn’t something to fear or be ashamed of. It’s something beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Jeng’s body melted against him, the last of the tension slowly unwinding. He clutched at Karn’s shirt, finally allowing himself to believe the Alpha’s words.

“…Thank you, Phi Karn,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Karn kissed his forehead again, lingering. “No, baby. Thank you. For trusting me.”

And so they stayed there, tangled together in the early morning light, Jeng safe, held, unafraid.

Chapter Text

The night was quiet, the world outside their window hushed. Jeng lay against Karn’s chest, their earlier words still echoing in his mind. For the first time, he felt safe enough to let his body relax completely. Karn’s hand was stroking gently through his hair, the soft touch grounding him.

Karn pressed a kiss to his temple, then to his cheek, lingering. His voice was low, careful. “Baby… can I kiss you?”

Jeng’s throat bobbed, his heart hammering. He met Karn’s eyes and nodded. “…Yes, Phi.”

The Alpha cupped his face tenderly, tilting it up, and their mouths met. At first it was soft, reverent, but soon Jeng was gasping into it, overwhelmed by how much Karn poured into every kiss. His scent, untamed now without suppressants, rolled off him in waves, and Karn groaned deep in his chest, his body trembling as he tried to control himself.

“Sweetheart, you’re driving me insane,” Karn whispered against his lips, his forehead resting against Jeng’s. “Your scent… gods, baby.” He kissed him again, hungrier this time, before breaking away, panting. “I need to know… are you comfortable? Do you want this?”

Jeng’s eyes flickered with nervousness, but also something brighter, want. He whispered, “I want you, Phi Karn. I trust you.”

Those words nearly broke Karn apart. His hands slid carefully down Jeng’s body, hovering just above his chest. “Here, baby?”

Jeng nodded, and Karn’s thumbs brushed over his nipples before he pinched lightly. Jeng arched, a startled whimper escaping his lips. “Phi…”

Karn kissed his jaw, down his neck, murmuring between each touch. “That’s it, darling. Such a good boy. My good boy.” His mouth trailed down, lips closing over a nipple, kissing, then gently sucking until Jeng was squirming.

Every time his hands moved, Karn asked. “Is this okay?”
“Yes, Phi…”
“Does this feel good?”
“Yes-ah-”

Jeng’s body responded instinctively, scent thickening in the air until Karn’s control slipped further. Both of them were bare now, pressed together, skin to skin. Karn’s rut collided with the first stirrings of Jeng’s heat, their pheromones tangling wildly.

Jeng gasped, clutching at Karn’s shoulders. “Phi-it feels...different”

Karn groaned, pressing his forehead against Jeng’s, his voice rough. “Our bodies are syncing, sweetheart. Your heat… my rut… it’s pulling us together.” His lips kissed away the tears forming at the corners of Jeng’s eyes. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Always.”

When he finally pushed into him, it was slow, careful, every second punctuated by whispered questions and soft kisses. Jeng clung to him, tears slipping free, but not from fear, this time from the sheer tenderness of being loved so wholly.

“Good boy,” Karn whispered brokenly as he moved, his hands cradling Jeng’s face. “You’re doing so well. You feel so perfect around me, sweetheart.”

Jeng sobbed softly, overwhelmed, whispering, “Phi Karn… I love you…”

Karn’s chest tightened, his rhythm faltering. “I love you too, baby. More than anything.”

Their pheromones locked together, heat and rut igniting into something unstoppable. Karn felt the surge before it happened, his knot swelling as he held Jeng tightly.

“I’m going to knot you now, darling. Is that okay?” he asked, breathless.

Jeng, trembling but certain, nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, Phi… please.”

Karn groaned, sinking fully into him, their bodies locking as his knot swelled. Jeng gasped, crying out, his tears wetting Karn’s skin. But these were tears of release, of finally being cherished instead of hurt.

Karn kissed the tears away, murmuring, “My omega. My beautiful, perfect baby.” He rocked them gently, even as the knot held them together. “You’re safe. You’re mine. Forever.”

​

Chapter Text

The early morning light was faint, spilling softly through the curtains. Jeng stirred first, blinking his eyes open, his body warm and heavy against Karn’s chest. For a moment, confusion flickered across his face, the soreness, the scent of Alpha and Omega so thick in the air, the undeniable awareness of being knotted the night before.

Then memory hit him. Karn’s voice whispering “good boy,” the way he kissed away every tear, the warmth of being held so close even as their bodies were joined.

Jeng’s cheeks burned, and he tried to shift slightly, but a sharp twinge made him whimper.

Immediately, Karn was awake. His arms tightened around Jeng protectively, voice deep and soft.
“Baby? Sweetheart, are you hurting?”

Jeng shook his head quickly, embarrassed. “N-no… just sore, Phi.”

Karn cupped his face, tilting his chin up so their eyes met. He looked worried, but gentle, his thumb brushing Jeng’s cheek. “Of course you’re sore, darling. It was your first time… and I was in rut.” He pressed a kiss to Jeng’s temple. “I should’ve been even gentler. I’m sorry.”

Jeng’s lips trembled, but he whispered honestly, “Don’t be sorry. You were so careful, Phi. You made me feel… safe. Loved.”

Karn exhaled shakily, relief flooding his expression. “My good boy…” He kissed him softly, then rolled carefully out of bed. “Stay here, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

Jeng blinked, confused, watching him disappear into the bathroom. Soon Karn returned with a bowl of warm water, soft towels, and soothing ointments. He set them down by the bed, then came back to Jeng with a smile.

“Come on, darling. Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

He helped Jeng sit, moving slow and careful, murmuring reassurance at every wince. Karn’s hands were strong, but his touch was featherlight as he wiped Jeng’s skin, cleaned him gently, and rubbed soothing balm over the tender places.

Jeng bit his lip, tears pricking his eyes again — but these weren’t from pain. They were from the overwhelming tenderness. “Phi… you don’t have to do all this.”

Karn paused, meeting his gaze. His voice was firm but warm. “Baby, I want to. You’re my omega. My sweetheart. Taking care of you is the best part.”

When he was done, Karn scooped Jeng up in his arms as though he weighed nothing, carrying him into the bathroom. He set him carefully on the counter, kissing his forehead. “Sit here, darling. I’ll run you a bath.”

The tub filled with warm, scented water. Karn guided Jeng in and slid in behind him, pulling the smaller man back against his chest. He washed Jeng’s hair, massaged his scalp, pressed kisses to his damp shoulders.

“You did so well last night,” Karn murmured, lips brushing Jeng’s ear. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Jeng let out a small, shaky laugh, leaning back into him. “Phi… I feel like you’re spoiling me too much.”

Karn chuckled softly, nuzzling his neck. “Get used to it, sweetheart. You’re mine now. I’ll spoil you for the rest of my life.”

After the bath, Karn wrapped him in the fluffiest towel, carried him back to bed, and tucked him in. Then he brought breakfast, warm congee, soft eggs, tea, feeding Jeng small bites when he was too sleepy to lift his spoon.

As Jeng dozed against his chest afterward, Karn whispered into his hair:
“You’ll never cry alone again, baby. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you loved… every single day.”

And Jeng, half-asleep but smiling softly, murmured back: “I believe you, Phi Karn.”

Chapter Text

It started subtly, almost unnoticeable at first.
The way Karn’s hand lingered a little longer at the small of Jeng’s back when they walked through the hospital halls. The way his eyes followed Jeng across the room, sharp and protective, whenever other alphas got too close.

But the moment Jeng stopped taking suppressants altogether, there was no hiding it anymore. His scent was soft, sweet, intoxicating. Alphas turned their heads when he passed. Betas smiled more warmly at him. Omegas instinctively gravitated closer.

And Karn? Karn was nearly feral.

One morning during rounds, a senior doctor leaned too close while speaking to Jeng. It wasn’t anything inappropriate, just proximity, maybe curiosity at the sudden change in Jeng’s natural scent. But before Jeng could even notice, Karn was at his side, sliding an arm possessively around his waist.

“Sweetheart,” Karn’s voice was calm but steel-edged, his lips brushing Jeng’s hairline, “don’t overwork yourself. You should stick by me today.”

The doctor blinked, startled, and quickly stepped back under the intensity of Karn’s gaze. Jeng flushed scarlet, burying his face against Karn’s chest, mumbling, “Phi…”

From that day on, there was no doubt. Everyone in the hospital knew Dr. Karn had claimed his omega.

At lunch breaks, Karn would pull Jeng into his lap in the doctor’s lounge, nuzzling his neck shamelessly, pressing deep, possessive kisses into the gland just under his ear until Jeng’s scent was drenched in him. Sometimes, when he was particularly overwhelmed, Karn would murmur against his skin, “Mine. My darling. My sweet omega.”

And Jeng, though embarrassed, always melted, his heart pounding as he whispered back, “Phi Karn… you’re embarrassing me.”

But Karn only smirked, kissing him harder. “Good. Let them know you’re mine.”

The official turning point came one evening at a hospital banquet. Jeng had dressed carefully, a soft sweater, neat slacks, but his scent was faintly shimmering in the crowded room, drawing attention. Too much attention.

A group of young alphas from another department approached him, smiling too widely, asking him casual questions that made Jeng shift uncomfortably. Before he could excuse himself, a low growl cut through the air.

Karn was there in an instant, his arm sliding around Jeng, pulling him flush against his side. His eyes were blazing as he glared at the group.

“Back. Off.” His voice was quiet, but dangerous.

The alphas froze. Even without raising his voice, Karn’s dominance radiated like a force field. They muttered excuses and scattered.

Jeng looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Phi…”

Karn didn’t answer at first. Instead, he tilted Jeng’s chin up with two fingers, locking eyes with him. In front of everyone, he pressed his lips to Jeng’s scent gland and bit down gently — not a full mating mark, but enough to leave his Alpha claim unmistakably clear.

The room hushed, watching, but Karn didn’t care. He held Jeng close, his voice low but firm against his ear.
“No one touches what’s mine. Not ever.”

Jeng’s cheeks flamed, his heart racing, but beneath the embarrassment, there was something else. Relief. Safety. Pride. For the first time, he wasn’t hiding who he was.

He leaned into Karn’s chest, whispering softly, “I’m yours, Phi Karn.”

And Karn smiled, kissing his forehead tenderly this time, before murmuring for only Jeng to hear:
“Forever, my sweetheart. Forever.”

​

Chapter Text

It happened weeks later, when both of them finally had time away from the chaos of the hospital. Karn had insisted on taking Jeng to his house by the sea, quiet, secluded, far away from anyone else.

The moment they stepped in, Karn scooped Jeng into his arms like he was weightless. “My darling, you look tired,” he murmured, kissing his forehead. “Tonight, you rest. Let Phi take care of you.”

Jeng flushed, clinging to his shirt, whispering shyly, “Phi… you’re too much sometimes.”

Karn only chuckled, carrying him to the bedroom and laying him carefully on the bed. But instead of rushing, he sat beside him, cupping Jeng’s face in both hands.

“Sweetheart,” Karn said softly, his thumb brushing along Jeng’s jaw, “you know what tonight means, don’t you?”

Jeng swallowed, his heart hammering. He did. The mating mark, permanent, unbreakable. It terrified him once, back when alphas only meant danger in his world. But now… now he wanted it. Wanted to be Karn’s in every way.

Still, his voice was small. “I… I know, Phi.”

Karn leaned closer, pressing his forehead to Jeng’s. “We don’t do this unless you’re certain. You’re my omega whether I mark you or not. But if I do… there’s no undoing it. It ties us. Body, scent, soul.”

Jeng’s hands trembled, but he lifted them to Karn’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “I want it,” he whispered. “I want to be yours. Forever, Phi Karn.”

Karn’s breath shuddered. For a moment, the cocky, confident doctor was gone, and in his place was a man trembling with love, with devotion. “My baby,” he whispered hoarsely. “My beautiful omega.”

---

When their clothes came off, there was no rush, no frenzy at first. Karn kissed him everywhere, his lips, his neck, his collarbones, down to his chest, lavishing his nipples with tender nips and praises.

“Sweetheart, you’re perfect,” Karn murmured, voice husky.
“Phi…” Jeng gasped, arching, shivering at every touch.

Karn never stopped asking, whispering against his skin: “Is this okay? Does it feel good, baby?”
And every time, Jeng nodded, breathless. “Yes, Phi… yes.”

It wasn’t until Jeng’s heat began to pulse through him, his scent flooding the room — sweet, intoxicating — that Karn’s control slipped. His rut snapped in sync, his Alpha instincts roaring. He pressed Jeng down gently, hovering over him, his lips at his neck.

“Baby,” Karn groaned, his voice rough, desperate, “I can smell you- god, you’re driving me insane.” He kissed along Jeng’s gland, breathing him in deeply, almost trembling. “I need to mark you. Need everyone to know you’re mine.”

Jeng whimpered, overwhelmed, his body heating under Karn’s weight. But instead of fear, there was trust. For the first time in his life, he wanted this.

“Do it, Phi,” Jeng whispered, tears shining in his eyes. “Please… make me yours.”

Karn’s growl rumbled deep in his chest, primal and raw. He kissed him fiercely, lips bruising, tongues tangling. Then his teeth grazed Jeng’s scent gland, lingering.

“Sweetheart… last chance. Once I do this, there’s no going back.”

Jeng cupped his face, pulling him down for another kiss. “I already told you, Phi… I’m yours. Forever.”

Karn’s control shattered.

He sank his fangs into Jeng’s gland, deep but careful, claiming him completely. Jeng gasped, the bite stung, then burned, and then it was like fire and light exploded through him, overwhelming pleasure flooding every nerve.

His omega instincts surged, and tears rolled down his cheeks as he clung to Karn desperately. “Phi! It feels so- oh god..”

“Good boy,” Karn groaned against his skin, licking the mark soothingly. His knot swelled, locking them together. “You’re my good boy. My perfect omega. Mine.”

The bond snapped into place, deep, unshakable. Jeng’s scent twined with Karn’s, their bodies syncing, their breaths and hearts beating in rhythm.

They moved together, slow but intense, until Jeng was trembling, undone beneath him, overwhelmed by both the physical heat and the emotional intimacy. Karn never stopped praising him, never stopped kissing his tears away.

When they finally collapsed into each other, panting and shaking, Jeng pressed his face against Karn’s chest, sobbing softly, not from pain, but from relief.

“I’m really yours now,” he whispered.

Karn wrapped him tightly in his arms, nuzzling his hair, voice rough but tender. “You’ve always been mine, sweetheart. The mark just makes it official.”

He kissed the newly made bond, gentle and reverent. “I’ll protect you, baby. With my life. You’ll never be hurt again. Not while I breathe.”

Jeng closed his eyes, smiling through his tears. For the first time in years, he felt whole.

Chapter Text

The first thing Jeng became aware of was the weight around his waist. Warm. Heavy. Protective. Karn’s arm, draped over him like it belonged there.

He blinked slowly, the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains of Karn’s bedroom. His body felt differen, heavier and lighter all at once. There was a dull ache between his thighs, soreness lingering in his hips, but… nothing compared to the warmth blooming in his chest.

The bond.

He didn’t need to reach for it to know it was there, woven into him, tethered deep, soothed, comforted in a way he’d never known. No fear. No anxiety. Just… safe.

Jeng shifted slightly, and Karn stirred immediately. The Alpha’s grip tightened, pulling him close until Jeng’s back was flush with Karn’s chest. “Baby…” Karn’s voice was rough with sleep, low enough to vibrate against his neck. He pressed a slow kiss to Jeng’s nape, right over the bond mark. “You’re awake.”

Jeng hummed softly, turning in Karn’s arms until he was facing him. The older man looked different like this, hair messy, eyes still hazy from sleep, but softer than Jeng had ever seen. No cocky smirk, no commanding presence. Just Phi Karn. His Alpha.

“You’re staring,” Karn teased, but his voice was gentle, affectionate. His thumb traced Jeng’s jaw, tilting his chin up. “What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

Jeng swallowed. His throat was still a little sore from last night’s gasps and whimpers. “The bond,” he admitted quietly. “It feels… strange. Good. I feel like I can breathe.”

Karn’s expression softened even more, if that was possible. He leaned down, brushing his lips against Jeng’s temple. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel, baby. You’re mine now. And I’m yours. No one can touch you. No one can hurt you.”

Something in Jeng’s chest loosened at those words. He hadn’t realized how tense he still was until Karn said it like a promise.

Karn shifted, propping himself up on one elbow while his other hand smoothed down Jeng’s side. “Are you sore?”

Jeng flushed but nodded slightly. “A little.”

Karn’s mouth curved into a guilty smile. “I knew I was too much for you last night.” He pressed a feather-light kiss to Jeng’s shoulder, then another lower, over his chest. “I’ll take care of you, darling. Always.”

Before Jeng could protest, Karn had slipped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He returned moments later with a warm towel, water, and some ointment. He fussed over Jeng like he was made of glass, carefully cleaning him up, rubbing soothing balm into the marks along his hips, kissing each one as if to apologize for leaving them there.

Jeng felt his face heat with embarrassment. “Phi Karn, I can do that myself-”

“Shhh.” Karn pressed a finger to his lips. “Let me. You’re my baby. Taking care of you is my privilege.”

The words made Jeng’s throat tighten. No one had ever treated him like this so tenderly, like he mattered.

When Karn was done, he slipped back under the sheets, pulling Jeng into his arms again. “I’ll cook for you,” Karn murmured, nuzzling into his neck. “Something light. You need your strength back.”

“Phi…” Jeng’s voice cracked slightly, overwhelmed by how much love was being poured into him. He hid his face against Karn’s chest. “You’re too much.”

Karn chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Get used to it, baby. You’re mine. I’m never letting you go.”

And for the first time in years, Jeng truly believed he was safe.

Chapter Text

The hospital was quieter than usual that morning. Not in sound, machines still beeped, patients still shuffled, nurses still exchanged charts, but in atmosphere. Whispers followed Jeng through the halls, curious glances trailing after him.

It wasn’t because he’d done anything wrong. It was because of Karn.

The Head of Surgery, the one who never spared anyone more than a clipped word or a sharp order, was now… different. Softer. Smiling. And most of that softness was directed at Jeng.

“Doctor Karn hasn’t yelled all morning,” one nurse whispered to another near the nurse’s station.
“Not since Dr. Jeng started his shift,” the other replied, eyes flicking toward where the younger doctor was checking a chart.
“Do you think…?” They didn’t finish the sentence, but the implication hung in the air.

Jeng heard them, of course. He heard everything. His ears burned, and he tried to keep his head down, pretending the chart in his hands required all his attention. The last thing he wanted was gossip.

But then, Karn appeared.

“Baby,” Karn’s voice cut through the hallway, smooth and commanding. Heads turned instantly. He strode toward Jeng with that confident gait, tie loosened, lab coat draped just so across his broad shoulders. He slipped a hand to Jeng’s lower back, steering him away from the curious eyes like he had every right. “You skipped breakfast, didn’t you?”

Jeng blinked up at him, flustered. “Phi Karn-”

“Don’t ‘Phi Karn’ me,” the older man said, tugging him gently down the hall. “You think I can’t smell it? You’re running on empty, sweetheart. What did I tell you about taking care of yourself?”

The words weren’t loud, but in the hushed hall, everyone heard them. They definitely heard the “sweetheart.”

Jeng’s face burned hotter. “Phi… people are looking.”

“Let them look,” Karn murmured, leaning down just enough that his lips brushed against Jeng’s temple. “They should know you’re mine.”

---

Later, in the break room, the tension was worse. Jeng sat with a cup of tea, trying to collect himself, but Karn wasn’t making it easy. He leaned against the counter across from him, arms folded, eyes never leaving Jeng. Every time someone walked in, especially if it was another Alpha, Karn’s posture shifted, shoulders squaring, jaw tightening, eyes narrowing just enough to send a warning.

The younger nurses whispered even louder after that.
“Look at him, he’s glaring holes into Dr. Nawin.”
“Poor Nawin just wanted coffee, why does it look like Dr. Karn’s about to fight him for existing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? He’s jealous.”

Jeng nearly choked on his tea when Karn suddenly crossed the room and plucked the cup from his hands. “Too hot,” Karn said simply, taking a sip himself before setting it back down. His hand stayed on Jeng’s shoulder a beat too long, thumb brushing the curve of his neck.

“Phi…” Jeng hissed softly, eyes darting to the door. “You can’t just-”

“Of course I can,” Karn cut in smoothly, his voice low, meant only for Jeng. “You’re mine, darling. They need to see it.”

Jeng’s chest squeezed. His instinct was to push him away, too many eyes, too much attention, but then Karn bent, lips brushing just behind his ear, where his scent gland pulsed. The smallest touch, but it made his knees weak.

“Don’t hide from me anymore, baby,” Karn whispered. “Not your scent, not yourself. I want them all to know what belongs to me.”

Jeng’s heart raced, his face hot, but he purred at the words, soothed by the possessiveness he used to fear. And for once, he didn’t shrink back from the attention.

---

By the end of the day, no one in the hospital doubted it anymore;
Karn, the untouchable Head of Surgery, was hopelessly, shamelessly, and openly in love with his younger omega doctor.

And Jeng, blushing and flustered as he was, finally let himself lean into it.

Chapter Text

It started small.

Jeng was halfway through his rounds when he felt it,the sudden wave of warmth that rushed through his body, crawling up his neck and settling low in his stomach. At first, he thought it was just fatigue; he had been running himself ragged the past few days. But then the scent hit. Sweet, heady, unmistakable. His own scent, betraying him.

His hands tightened around the patient’s chart, knuckles white. No. Not here. Not right now.

The world tilted. His skin prickled, too sensitive, every brush of fabric against his body unbearable. His pupils dilated, his breathing quickened. It was impossible to hide. Everyone would know, everyone could smell.

And then Karn was there.

“Baby?” The deep, concerned rumble of his Alpha’s voice cut through the haze instantly. Karn was at his side in two strides, one strong hand gripping his elbow, steadying him. The sharp scent of his Alpha wrapped around him like a shield. Protective. Territorial. Overpowering everything else.

Jeng swayed into him without meaning to, his forehead pressing into Karn’s chest. His voice cracked, small and trembling. “Phi… it’s starting. My… my heat-”

Karn’s entire body went rigid. His arm locked around Jeng’s waist instantly, pulling him close. “Shit. Not here, sweetheart. Not in the middle of the damn ward.” His tone was firm, but his scent was already spiking,Alpha instincts roaring to the surface. He was barely holding himself back.

Around them, nurses whispered, heads turning, scent receptors flaring at the unmistakable mix in the air. An omega in heat. An Alpha losing control.

Karn’s eyes snapped up, burning. “Everyone out.” His voice was a growl, low and dangerous. “Now.”

The authority in his tone sent the staff scattering instantly. Within seconds, the ward was empty. Only Karn and Jeng remained.

“Phi…” Jeng whimpered, tugging weakly at Karn’s coat. His body trembled, his thighs pressing together helplessly. “I can’t- please-”

Karn cursed under his breath. “Baby, listen to me.” He cupped Jeng’s flushed face in both hands, forcing him to meet his eyes. "I won’t let anyone see you like this. Do you understand?”

Jeng whimpered again, torn between shame and the desperate, aching need burning through him. His instincts screamed for Karn, only Karn.

The older Alpha didn’t waste another second. He scooped Jeng into his arms as though he weighed nothing, striding down the hall with lethal determination. Anyone who even thought about approaching was met with a glare sharp enough to kill.

---

The door to Karn’s office slammed shut behind them. He locked it, scent flooding the room instantly, dark and overwhelming.

He pressed Jeng against the wall, cradling his trembling body, their breaths mingling hot and heavy.

“Sweetheart,” Karn whispered, his forehead pressed to Jeng’s temple, “you’re burning up.” His hands stroked down Jeng’s sides, soothing and steady, trying to anchor him. “I should’ve known. I should’ve been watching your cycle more carefully.”

“It’s my fault,” Jeng gasped, tears pricking his eyes. His scent wavered, distressed. “I should have been more careful."

“Shh.” Karn kissed his damp cheek, voice low and fierce. “Don’t blame yourself, baby. This isn’t your fault. It’ll never be your fault.”

Jeng’s body arched, his heat scent flooding the room so thickly that Karn’s Alpha instincts nearly snapped. His rut was clawing at him, demanding, mate with him now. Knot him. Claim him.

But even in the haze, Karn held on to himself. He nuzzled Jeng’s neck, inhaling deeply, grounding himself in his omega’s trembling presence. “Sweetheart, listen to me. I’ll help you through this. But only if you want me to. Do you trust me?”

Jeng’s breath hitched. He clung to Karn’s shirt, face buried in his chest, nodding desperately. “I trust you, Phi… I need you…”

That was all it took. Karn’s control cracked, but not his gentleness. He scooped Jeng into his arms again, carrying him to the couch in the corner of the office, laying him down with careful tenderness.

“Good boy,” he whispered against Jeng’s lips, his hand brushing damp hair off his forehead. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

Chapter Text

Jeng’s body trembled on the couch, the flush on his skin spreading down his neck and chest. His legs pressed together, but his scent betrayed him, flooding the room with sweet, desperate heat.

Karn’s jaw clenched as he knelt over him, one hand braced beside Jeng’s head, the other stroking his cheek with feather-light touches. His entire body was taut with restraint, fighting his instincts.

Jeng whimpered, fingers clutching Karn’s shirt like a lifeline. His pupils were blown wide, his voice soft, needy. “Yes, Phi Karn… I-I need you… please.”

Karn kissed him—deep, consuming, like a man starved. His tongue slid into Jeng’s mouth, claiming and coaxing at once, while his hands explored carefully, never rushing. He mapped Jeng’s body with reverence, as if every inch was precious.

“You’re perfect,” Karn whispered against his lips. “My sweet boy. My omega.”

Jeng gasped, arching under him, his body wracked with need. “Phi- too hot, can’t- ”

Karn pulled back just enough to cup Jeng’s face. “Shh, baby, I’ve got you. Let’s take this slow. I’ll make it good for you.”

He stripped them down with trembling hands, every layer revealing more soft, flushed skin. Jeng covered his face in embarrassment, but Karn gently pulled his hands away, kissing each knuckle.

“Don’t hide from me, darling. You’re beautiful. All of you.”

Jeng’s heart squeezed painfully at the sincerity in his Alpha’s voice. He spread for Karn, shy and trembling, but trusting.

Karn lowered himself, pressing kisses down Jeng’s chest, pausing to lavish attention on his nipples, suckling, teasing, making Jeng whimper and squirm. His hands stroked along Jeng’s sides, always checking, always gentle.

“Is this okay, sweetheart?” Karn asked between kisses.

“Y-Yes, Phi,” Jeng gasped, clutching at his shoulders. “Feels… so good.”

The heat haze thickened. Their scents tangled, omega and alpha instincts colliding until Karn couldn’t hold back anymore. His rut surged as Jeng’s heat peaked, syncing them, dragging them both to the brink.

When Karn finally pushed inside, it was slow, careful, every inch of him trembling with the effort not to hurt the smaller man.

“Good boy,” Karn panted, kissing Jeng’s tear-streaked cheeks as he gasped. “Taking me so well… my perfect omega.”

Jeng cried out softly, overwhelmed by the fullness, by the tenderness. He wrapped his arms around Karn’s neck, clinging desperately. “Phi- don’t let go.. please…”

“I'm here, baby. I’ve got you.”

Their bodies moved together, slow at first, then with rising urgency as heat and rut tangled them tighter and tighter. Karn’s praises poured endlessly, until Jeng’s body gave way, trembling around him, scent peaking.

Karn groaned low in his chest as his instincts finally snapped, his knot swelling and locking them together. Jeng sobbed into his neck at the overwhelming sensation.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Karn murmured, holding him close, stroking his hair as he trembled. “You’re okay. You’re mine. You’re safe.”

Jeng’s tears soaked Karn’s shoulder, but his voice was steady when he whispered, “Phi… thank you. Thank you for not hurting me.”

Karn kissed his temple fiercely, his own eyes damp. “I’d rather die than hurt you, baby.”

Chapter Text

The hospital had been exhausting that week, endless rounds, difficult patients, and a tense staff meeting that had everyone drained. Jeng, however, wasn’t thinking about any of that when he stepped into Karn’s apartment for the night.

Something inside him buzzed restlessly, an itch under his skin that wouldn’t let him sit still. He set his bag down, glancing around the living room with wide, uncertain eyes.

Karn noticed instantly. “Sweetheart?” He closed the door behind them, slipping out of his shoes. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to bolt.”

Jeng shook his head quickly, but his hands fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie. “I… I don’t know, Phi Karn. I just- ” He bit his lip, cheeks coloring. “I feel… strange.”

Karn stepped closer, tucking a finger under Jeng’s chin so their eyes met. “Strange how, darling?”

The younger man hesitated, then whispered, “Like I need… to build something. A place. To feel safe.” His voice cracked. “I think… it’s nesting.”

Karn’s expression softened immediately. He cupped Jeng’s cheek, his thumb brushing gently over flushed skin. “Baby, that’s not strange at all. That’s your omega instincts. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I’ve never done it before,” Jeng admitted, his lashes lowering. “I wasn’t allowed. At home… they would’ve called me pathetic for even trying.”

Karn’s chest tightened. He pulled Jeng against him, kissing the crown of his head. “You’re not pathetic. You’re perfect. If your instincts are telling you to nest, then we’ll make you the coziest nest in the world, sweetheart.”

Jeng blinked up at him, watery-eyed. “You’ll help me?”

“Of course, baby. Lead the way.”

---

Within minutes, Karn was dragging blankets, pillows, and even spare sweaters from every corner of the apartment. Jeng watched with wide eyes as the Alpha piled them into the bedroom, his usually composed Phi looking almost boyish in his determination.

“Here, sweetheart,” Karn said, tossing a fluffy blanket into Jeng’s arms. “Your nest, your rules. You tell me where everything goes.”

At first Jeng was hesitant, awkward. But as his instincts kicked in, he began arranging everything carefully, pillows stacked around the bed in a soft circle, blankets layered thick, and Karn’s shirts tucked in among them. He pressed his face into one of them, shivering at the strong Alpha scent that clung to it.

Karn leaned in the doorway, arms folded, watching with a tender smile. “You’re stealing all my clothes, baby.”

Jeng flushed. “They smell like you, Phi… it calms me.”

“Then take as many as you want, darling.”

Finally, Jeng sank into the middle of his creation, a cozy, sweet-smelling cocoon, and looked up at Karn shyly. “It feels… safe. For the first time, it really feels safe.”

Karn’s heart melted. He slipped out of his shirt and tossed it onto the nest, then crawled in beside Jeng, pulling him into his lap.

“There we go, baby. Now it’s perfect.” He pressed kisses along Jeng’s jaw, then nuzzled into his neck, inhaling his soft omega scent. “This is your space, your safe place. And I’ll protect it. Always.”

Jeng curled against him, his eyes heavy with warmth and comfort.

“Phi Karn,” he murmured sleepily. “Stay here with me?”

Karn tightened his arms around him. “Always, sweetheart. Always.”

As Jeng drifted into sleep surrounded by warmth, scents, and safety, Karn realized this wasn’t just nesting, it was trust. And he would never break it.

Chapter Text

The rain came in steady threads against the window, a quiet percussion that usually lulled Jeng to sleep. Tonight it only thickened the air. He shifted in the nest he’d built on Karn’s bed, pillows circling like a soft shoreline, blankets layered with Karn’s shirts tucked between, the older Alpha’s scent warming the cotton.

Somewhere in that comfort, the dream found him anyway.

Hands on his wrists. A door that wouldn’t open. Laughter cut to grunts. Shame like acid.

Jeng’s breath tripped. He flinched in his sleep, one small kick, a broken sound. The bond thrummed tight, then taut. Karn was awake in an instant, the way an Alpha wakes when his omega’s scent snaps from sweet to frightened.

“Baby,” Karn murmured, voice low and steady as he rolled in behind him, bracketing Jeng’s smaller frame. “Sweetheart, you’re dreaming. Phi’s here.”

Jeng jolted with a strangled inhale. The room tilted; the past felt too close. He clawed for air that wouldn’t fill.

Karn didn’t ask questions. He flooded the nest with his scent, warm and grounding, smoke and rain and the safe weight of him. His palm found Jeng’s sternum, spreading, pressing just enough to cue a slower rhythm. “Shhh you're okay, Baby,” he coaxed. “In for four, hold for two… out for six. Good boy. Again.”

Jeng latched onto his voice. In. Hold. Out. The tremor in his shoulders eased by degrees. When he finally turned, he came small and hungry into Karn’s chest, fingers bunching in the older man’s shirt like a child’s.

“It’s okay,” Karn whispered into his hair, breath feathering Jeng’s crown. “You’re here. He’s nowhere. You’re in my arms.” He tipped his chin up with careful fingers. “Look at me, darling.”

Jeng’s eyes were wet and unfocused. Karn’s were calm in the dark, steady as a harbor light. “That’s it,” Karn praised, a gentle rumble at his throat. “Say it with me.”

“I’m… here,” Jeng breathed.

“You’re here,” Karn echoed. “You’re safe.”

“Safe,” Jeng whispered, the word sanded raw by use. The bond eased another notch, the terror ebbing.

Karn kissed his brow. “Good boy.”

They lay like that while the rain stitched the night together, Karn scenting him in slow waves, Jeng’s breathing evening out until sleep crept close again. When it came this time, it was shallow, wary. But it came.

He woke to warmth and to something else, heat, soft at first, then blooming. It unfurled from low in his belly, a shy ache that climbed his ribs. His scent brightened, sweetened; the nest caught it and threw it back.

“Phi…” Jeng whispered, already flushed. His eyes found Karn’s; they widened with apology he didn’t owe. “I- I think it’s starting.”

Karn’s pupils blew, then steadied. He smoothed a hand over Jeng’s hair, tucking a stray strand behind his ear. “Thank you for telling me, baby.” His voice didn’t waver. “How do you want to handle it?”

Jeng swallowed. Words stuck, then loosened when Karn’s thumb brushed his cheek. “With you,” he admitted, small and certain. “But slow.”

“Slow,” Karn agreed. “And you lead.” He tucked a folded t-shirt into Jeng’s hands. “Scent cloth. Squeeze it when you need me closer or farther. Tap me twice if you need a pause. ‘Red’ if you want everything to stop. No question, no delay. Understood?”

“Understood,” Jeng whispered, the safety plan settling like a blanket over the rising heat. He breathed Karn in and nodded. “Please… stay close.”

Karn moved only as invited, easing nearer, sliding into the nest until they fit the way they always did: Jeng curled in, Karn wrapping around like a wall against weather. He kissed Jeng’s temple first, then the slope of his cheek, then paused with his mouth hovering over the omega’s. “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Phi,” Jeng said, voice hushed.

The kiss was warm and unhurried. Karn’s hand stayed visible and slow as it cupped Jeng’s jaw, his other palm spreading at his waist with deliberate weight, here, here, no rush, no surprise. Jeng sighed into it, heat flickering brighter, not blinding.

“Still okay?” Karn asked against his lips.

“Yes.” The word was breath and relief.

Karn kissed the tip of his nose for making sure. He mapped safe places with his mouth, the corner of Jeng’s smile, the hinge of his jaw, the line under his ear that always made him shiver. His fingers drew idle circles on Jeng’s back, never straying, checking in with little hums and “good?” that Jeng answered with nods and soft sounds.

When Karn skimmed lower, only to the place where Jeng’s pulse beat at his throat, Jeng tipped his head, offering without thinking. The bond sang at the trust of it; Karn’s breath hitched, then steadied.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “My sweet boy.” He kissed there, careful, a promise not a claim.

Heat rolled. Jeng’s hips shifted; a whimper caught on his tongue. Karn asked with his eyes. Jeng lifted his chin, nodding, and Karn matched their bodies closer, nothing abrupt, everything narrated in touch and breath. The ache sweetened into want, the want into need.

“Phi…” Jeng said, and Karn was already answering: “I’m here, darling.”

They moved a little more, only what Jeng asked for, only what he could name. And then, without warning, the ground tilted, an old corridor in a different building, a hand on a door, breath that wasn’t Karn’s. The past reached up mean and sudden.

Jeng’s body went rigid. His scent spiked sharp with distress. His fingers, which had been gripping Karn’s shirt for closeness, started to push instead.

Everything in Karn responded at once. He froze his own body, unlaced every point of contact, and swallowed his Alpha instinct whole. “Red?” he asked, still and low, not moving an inch.

Jeng couldn’t find the word. His throat worked. He tapped twice against Karn’s shoulder with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” Karn said, and immediately lifted away, not a centimeter of pressure remaining where it hadn’t been asked for. He rolled them so Jeng had open space, palms turning up where Jeng could see them. His scent flattened from hungry to calm in a heartbeat; only the steadying notes remained.

“Look at me, baby.” Karn kept his voice in that soft, anchoring register. “Five things you can see.”

Jeng’s breath shuddered. “P-pillows. Your shirt. The… the plant. The rain on the window. You.”

“Good,” Karn praised, eyes kind. “Four things you can feel.”

“Blanket. Mattress. Your… your hand. My ring.” He thumbed the simple band on his own finger, the one Karn had given him to wear at home when he wanted to feel owned in a way that meant safe.

“Three things you can hear.”

“Rain. Your heartbeat. You talking.”

“Two things you can smell.”

“You.” A shivery breath. “Nest.”

“One thing you can taste.”

Jeng’s mouth wobbled. “Mint… from the toothpaste.”

Karn smiled, small and relieved. “My clever boy.” He held up the folded t-shirt. “Cloth?”

Jeng grabbed it and inhaled like a swimmer breaking the surface. His pulse slowed under Karn’s watch. The distress burned itself out; the heat curled smaller, less a demand than a tide he could float on.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes stinging.

“For what?” Karn asked, truly not understanding.

“For… stopping. For being- ”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Karn said gently. “Stopping is bravery. Stopping is you caring for you, and trusting me to care with you.” He tucked a knuckle under Jeng’s chin. “You never owe me a finish line, baby. Not in heat, not ever. We don’t chase outcomes; we chase safety. If safety is just breathing in a nest, then that is the best we do.”

Jeng blinked hard. The shame that had closed like a fist loosened.

Karn lay back and opened his arms. “Come here. Let me scent you and rub your back until the tide evens out. We can make tea. Watch the rain. I can read to you. You want that?”

Jeng crawled into his space with a soft, unguarded sound and settled chest-to-chest, his ear to Karn’s heartbeat. “I want you,” he whispered, the simplest truth. “Even if we just… lie here.”

“Perfect,” Karn said, and meant it. He tucked Jeng under his chin and let the older, warmer notes of his scent pour steady and slow, stroking the long muscles at his back in lazy arcs. Time unhooked. The room shrank to the boundaries of the nest and their breath.

After a while, Jeng mumbled into his shirt, “Phi… can we make a rule?”

“We can make twenty.”

Jeng huffed, a tiny ghost of a laugh. “Just… check-ins. Even when I’m not in heat. Green, yellow, red.”

Karn kissed his hair. “Done. I’ll ask, you’ll tell me, and we’ll treat every color like its own kind of success.” He paused. “And one more rule from me: you never apologize for surviving.”

Jeng closed his eyes, tears finally gentle. “Yes, Phi.”

They did not try again that night. They did not need to. Karn made tea and brought it to the nest with honey and a ridiculous amount of patience. He read aloud until Jeng’s breaths evened. When the omega slept at last, Karn stayed awake long enough to memorize the softness on his face, the absence of fear.

In the gray seam before dawn, Jeng stirred, then tucked closer with a little, contented noise. Karn smiled into his hair.

When the past tried to bite, Jeng had stopped it. When the heat tried to drag, he had chosen safety. And Karn had done the simplest, most sacred Alpha thing: he’d listened.

“Good boy,” he murmured, barely sound. “Mine.”

Outside, the rain went on stitching the night closed. Inside, the bond hummed steady, warm as a light the storm couldn’t touch.

Chapter Text

The invitation sat on the coffee table like a silent threat. Jeng had been staring at it for hours, his fingers worrying at the edge of the envelope until the paper softened. It was for his parents’ wedding anniversary, a grand dinner at their house, with extended family, old friends, neighbors. A celebration, on the surface. But to Jeng, it felt like a trap.

“They want to ‘reconnect,’” he muttered, his voice bitter, hollow. “Reconnect after years of pretending I don’t exist, or worse, wishing I didn’t.”

Karn sat beside him, leaning back into the sofa with his usual confidence, though his gaze softened when it rested on Jeng. He reached out, brushing his knuckles along Jeng’s cheek, grounding him.

“Baby,” Karn said gently, “you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But if you do… I’ll be with you. Every second. The moment they cross a line, we leave. You’ll never have to face them alone again.”

Jeng’s throat tightened. The thought of walking back into that house filled him with nausea, but Karn’s steady presence, the warmth in his voice, gave him the smallest thread of courage. He nodded, eyes flicking down to Karn’s hand still resting on his. “If you’re with me… Phi Karn, maybe I can face it.”

—

The house was exactly as Jeng remembered: pristine, suffocatingly perfect, the walls lined with family portraits where he never seemed to quite fit in. As he and Karn entered, the murmur of chatter faltered. His parents, standing proudly at the center of the room, gave him a glance, a sharp up-and-down look of disappointment, their lips curling slightly as though his very presence spoiled the evening.

But then their eyes shifted to Karn. And in an instant, their faces rearranged into a false smile, dripping with politeness yet laced with condescension.
“Ah, you must be Dr. Karn,” his mother said, her voice sweet and cutting all at once.
“Such an accomplished man… though I must say, I never imagined you would be the type to waste your time with…” She didn’t finish, but her eyes darted toward Jeng, making her meaning painfully clear.

Jeng froze, shame pressing heavy against his chest. Karn’s hand found his thigh beneath the table as they sat down for dinner, his thumb stroking steady circles of comfort. “Ignore them, sweetheart,” Karn whispered low enough for only Jeng to hear. “You’re more than they’ll ever deserve.”

Conversation at the table was a patchwork of forced small talk and veiled criticism. Jeng’s extended family tried to ease the tension, changing topics, laughing too loudly, but his parents couldn’t resist their barbed comments.

As the main dishes were served, his mother leaned forward, her voice rising above the chatter. “It’s really such a shame. We tried so hard to raise Jeng properly. But he’s always been… weak. Sensitive. And now, clinging to suppressants for years like some helpless child. We told him he’d never amount to anything.” She sighed theatrically, shaking her head. “At least he’s found someone successful to latch onto.”

The sound of Karn’s chair scraping against the floor silenced the room. He turned sharply toward her, his usual playful, cocky demeanor stripped away. What replaced it was steel, cold authority, sharp enough to cut through bone.

“Enough.” His voice thundered, low but commanding. “You will not speak about him that way. Not in front of me. Not ever again.”

The entire table fell silent. Even Jeng’s father, usually quick to pile on, stared at Karn with wide eyes.

Karn’s glare was unwavering. “Do you have any idea how extraordinary your son is? Do you realize the strength it takes to endure the things you’ve put him through and still show up to save lives every single day? You should be ashamed. Ashamed to call yourselves his parents.”

Gasps rose from the extended family, and for once, it wasn’t Jeng on the receiving end of the criticism. Cousins and uncles spoke up, voices overlapping.

“He’s right—why do you always belittle him?”
“Jeng has achieved more than most of us, despite everything!”
“You two are cruel. It’s embarrassing.”

His parents sputtered, voices rising in protest, but the tide had turned against them. Jeng sat frozen, staring at Karn, at the man who had just shattered years of silence and humiliation in one unflinching strike.

Karn pushed his chair back, standing tall, his hand reaching for Jeng’s. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Jeng didn’t hesitate. He rose, gripping Karn’s hand tightly, his legs trembling but his resolve steady. At the doorway, he stopped and turned back. His parents stared at him, faces twisted in anger and humiliation.

“Don’t call me your son anymore,” Jeng said, his voice shaking but firm. “I don’t want anything from you. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

The words cracked something deep inside him, but also freed him. Without waiting for their reply, he walked out hand-in-hand with Karn.

—

In the car, the moment the door shut behind him, Jeng broke. The sobs tore out of him, years of pain and rejection spilling free. He curled into himself, hands trembling, until Karn gathered him into his arms, pulling him against his chest.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Karn murmured, pressing kisses into his hair, his temple. “Cry all you need. Let it out. You don’t have to be strong here.”

Jeng buried his face into Karn’s neck, the scent of his Alpha wrapping around him like safety itself. Karn held him through every tear, whispering promises into the night.

“You’re mine, baby. And I’ll protect you from them, always. You’ll never have to face that kind of cruelty again. Not while I’m here.”

​

Chapter Text

The air was alive with warmth, laughter, and the faint crackle of fireworks from a neighborhood nearby. The Karn family house glowed with lanterns strung across the front, bright and festive for the New Year. Jeng’s fingers tightened nervously around Karn’s as they approached the gate, his heart thudding in his chest.

“What if they don’t like me?” Jeng whispered, his voice barely audible against the hum of celebration inside.

Karn stopped, pulling him close. His hand cupped Jeng’s cheek with steady affection, the same way he always did when grounding him. “They will. I promise you. They already know about you, and they’re so excited to meet you.” His grin softened into something more intimate. “Just breathe, sweetheart. You’re safe here.”

The moment they stepped inside, Jeng was swept into a world that felt entirely foreign to him. Warmth, genuine and unrestrained, wrapped around him from all sides. Karn’s parents were at the door, smiles lighting their faces as though they had been waiting just for him.

“Ah, so this is Jeng,” Karn’s mother said, her eyes shining with delight. Without hesitation, she cupped his face in her palms, tilting his chin up as if he were the most precious thing she’d ever seen. “You’re even prettier than Karn told us. Such a lovely face. And such kind eyes. No wonder he is so smitten.”

Jeng flushed deeply, unused to affection so freely given. Karn’s father stepped forward, his presence strong but welcoming, his smile warm. He clasped Jeng’s hand firmly. “You’ve achieved so much already at your age. That takes resilience, son. I admire that.” His words rang with pride—pride that Jeng had never once received from his own parents.

“He's right, darling,” Karn’s mother added, smoothing Jeng’s hair affectionately. “And Jeng, Call us Mae and Pa, okay? You’re part of this family now.”

The lump in Jeng’s throat was so thick he could barely answer. “Kh–khrap,” he stammered softly, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. “Mae… Pa.”

The house bustled with relatives, all gathering in celebration. Karn’s uncles quickly drew Jeng in, their laughter booming as they recounted embarrassing stories of Karn’s childhood—how he once ran around the yard stark naked at age five, or how he used to cry every time he lost a board game.

One of the uncles, the very one who owned the hospital where both Jeng and Karn worked, leaned forward with a fond smile. “I remember when Karn was younger, he used to tag along with me at the hospital, insisting he’d be the best doctor one day. He was stubborn even then. And now, seeing you both there… Jeng, your dedication hasn’t gone unnoticed. The staff admires you, and so do I. You’ve been a gift to that place.”

Jeng’s eyes widened, humbled by the words. He bowed his head slightly. “Thank you… that means more than I can say.”

Before he could say more, the family dog—a fluffy golden retriever—bounded into the room, tail wagging furiously. The dog went straight to Jeng, practically bowling him over as it buried him in excited licks. Jeng laughed freely, a sound that startled even himself, and wrapped his arms around the dog, rubbing its fur affectionately.

“Oh, look at that!” one of the aunts exclaimed with a delighted clap. “The dog loves him! He never warms up to strangers this quickly.”

Everyone laughed, nodding in agreement, and Jeng beamed, scratching behind the dog’s ears. Karn stepped closer with a mock frown, leaning down to pat the dog’s head. “Alright, buddy, he’s mine. Don’t go stealing him away from me.”

Jeng, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, glanced up mischievously. “Hmm… but the dog’s cuter, Phi.”

The whole family erupted in laughter, and Karn groaned, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest.

The cousins and aunts teased them mercilessly, but the warmth of it all settled deep in Jeng’s heart. Children darted around the living room with sparklers and balloons, chasing after the other pets who barked happily in the chaos.

Later, when the noise softened into the hum of conversation, Jeng and Karn found themselves curled up together on the couch. Jeng leaned against Karn’s chest, the Alpha’s arm wrapped snugly around him. His eyes roamed the room—at the laughter, the teasing, the simple affection of a family unafraid to show love. For the first time, it didn’t feel foreign. It felt… right.

“This is what family is supposed to feel like,” Karn murmured against his hair, his voice low and steady. He kissed Jeng’s temple softly. “No conditions. No cruelty. Just love. And you’re part of this, baby. You’re part of my family now.”

Jeng’s throat ached as emotion welled up, spilling over in a few quiet tears he couldn’t hold back. He tilted his face up to Karn, whispering, “Thank you Phi… thank you for bringing me here. For showing me this.”

Karn brushed the tears away with his thumb, pulling him closer until Jeng could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Always, sweetheart. You’ll never have to stand outside the warmth again. Not while I’m here.”

And as the fireworks burst outside, painting the night sky with color, Jeng let himself believe it—this was home. This was family.

Chapter Text

The café was bustling with the usual Saturday crowd, college students with their laptops, families enjoying brunch, couples leaning close over shared desserts. Jeng sat at the corner table with Karn, sipping his iced coffee. Karn had excused himself to the restroom a moment ago, leaving Jeng scrolling idly through his phone.

The bell at the café door jingled. Jeng didn’t bother to look up, until a sudden, familiar chill crawled down his spine. The faint scent of coffee beans and sugar was suddenly pierced by something sharp, sickeningly familiar. His stomach dropped.

“Jeng?”

His head shot up, blood running cold. Standing a few feet away, with that same smirk that used to make his skin crawl in med school, was Foei. His senior. His assaulter.

Jeng’s heart hammered against his ribs, breath quickening as he instinctively tried to shrink back into the chair. But Foei’s gaze was locked onto him, and worse, the faint trace of omega pheromones hung in the air. Jeng had stopped taking his suppressants weeks ago, encouraged by Karn, and he hadn’t expected to ever regret it. Until now.

Foei’s smirk widened. He moved closer, his voice low, smooth, and vile. “It is you. I knew I’d smell you eventually.”

Jeng stumbled to his feet, trying to step away, but Foei’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist with bruising force. He dragged him toward the café’s side corridor, where the storage and restrooms were. The chatter of the main room faded as Jeng’s panic spiked.

“Don’t- please- let go of me!” Jeng’s voice cracked, but Foei only pressed him against the wall, crowding him in.

“You don’t understand, Jeng,” Foei murmured, his breath hot against his ear. His other hand slid dangerously close to his waist. “Someone like you- you need someone who knows how to handle an omega properly. I could take care of you. You’d never have to beg.”

Jeng’s entire body shook, tears blurring his vision. He pushed against Foei’s chest, desperate, but his wrists were pinned. His voice tore raw from his throat as he screamed, “PHI KARN!”

The sound echoed.

It was only seconds before heavy footsteps thundered down the corridor. Karn’s scent—sharp, furious, protective, flooded the air. Then Karn was there, his eyes blazing. Without hesitation, he ripped Foei off Jeng and slammed him hard onto the floor. The impact shook the narrow hallway.

“You bastard!” Karn roared, fists flying. He struck Foei again and again, his fury uncontained. Foei choked out something, half a plea, half a curse, but Karn only shoved his knee into his chest, holding him down.

“You think you can touch him? You think you can even look at him?!”

The commotion had drawn staff and a few bystanders. Karn pulled out his phone with one hand, still pinning Foei with the other, and barked into it: “Police. Now. Public indecency and assault.”

The café manager hovered nervously, but then froze. “Wait.. you work at Doctor Mali’s clinic, don’t you?” she asked Foei.

Karn’s head snapped around at the name. His aunt’s clinic. Fury boiled even hotter in his chest. He leaned down close to Foei, his voice low and venomous. “So it’s you. You dared touch him, and you dared to work under my family’s name? You’re finished. I’ll ruin you.”

But the fury had to pause when he turned and saw Jeng.

Jeng was trembling violently, curled against the wall, sobs wracking his small frame. His wrists were red where Foei had grabbed him, his whole body shaking like he’d been plunged into ice water.

Karn’s heart broke. He shoved Foei into the hands of arriving security staff and strode straight to Jeng, crouching low. His voice softened instantly, his scent pouring over Jeng like a warm blanket. “Baby, hey, hey- it’s me. I’ve got you. He can’t touch you again, I swear it. You’re safe now.”

Jeng launched himself into Karn’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Karn scooped him up without hesitation, carrying him out past the gawking crowd. He didn’t care about the whispers, the stares. Only Jeng mattered.

At the car, Karn settled into the backseat with Jeng on his lap, rocking him gently. He pressed soft kisses across his wet cheeks, his temple, his forehead. “Shhh, sweetheart. Breathe. You’re okay. I’m right here. Always.”

Jeng clung to him like a lifeline, still sobbing into his shirt. “I- I thought it was happening again,” he choked out. “I couldn’t move.”

Karn tightened his embrace, nuzzling against his hair. “No one will ever hurt you again. I swear it, Jeng. He works at my aunt’s clinic? Good. That makes it easier. I’m going to destroy him. His career, his reputation, he’ll never come near you again. You have my word.”

He rocked him gently, his scent flooding the car, grounding him. “You’re mine. My omega. No one can touch you.”

Jeng’s sobs gradually quieted, though his body still shook. He nestled into Karn’s chest, whispering through hiccupped breaths, “Thank you… thank you for coming.”

Karn kissed the corner of his mouth, brushing away the last of his tears with tender thumbs. “I’ll always come for you, sweetheart. Always.”

And as Jeng curled tighter in his lap, safe in his arms, Karn knew he would never forgive himself for letting him out of sight. But more than that, he knew no one would ever lay a hand on Jeng again and walk away unscathed.

Chapter Text

The drive home was quiet except for Jeng’s occasional sniffles. Karn kept one arm around him, one hand on the wheel, unwilling to let go for even a second. The world outside blurred by, but inside the car everything was wrapped in the heavy fog of what had just happened.

When they arrived, Karn didn’t even let Jeng touch the door handle. He scooped him into his arms and carried him inside, ignoring Jeng’s weak protest.

“Phi Karn, I can walk…” Jeng murmured, his voice small, raw.

“I know,” Karn whispered, kissing his temple as he set him gently on the couch. “But you don’t have to right now. Let me.”

Jeng’s hands trembled as he rubbed at his wrists, the faint red marks from Foei’s grip glaring up at them both. Karn knelt in front of him, carefully taking Jeng’s hands in his own. His jaw clenched, but he kept his voice soft as he traced the marks with his thumb. “He hurt you. He dared to hurt you.”

Jeng shook his head quickly, eyes filling with tears again. “No, don’t, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I… I should’ve been more careful, I shouldn’t have stopped my suppressants- ”

“Stop.” Karn’s tone was firm, but not harsh. He tilted Jeng’s chin so their eyes met. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. You have the right to live freely. To be yourself. It’s him who’s disgusting. It’s him who’s wrong.”

"Can you please just hold me please Phi?" Jeng says, his voice breaking.
Karn gets on the couch, lifting Jeng on his lap and taking him in his protective embrace.

Jeng swallowed hard, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I felt like I was back in that room, back in med school. I- I couldn’t move, Phi. I froze again. I thought…” His breath hitched, a sob tearing free. “…I thought I’d never see you again.”

Karn’s chest ached at the words. He gathered Jeng against him, holding him so tight it was as if he could shield him from every shadow in the world. “You’ll always see me again. I’ll always come for you, Jeng. Always.”

They stayed like that for a long time, Jeng curled in Karn’s lap, his sobs quieting until he was only hiccupping softly. Karn’s scent filled the room, warm and steady, calming Jeng’s trembling.

Later, when Jeng had finally dozed off against his chest, Karn pulled out his phone with one hand, careful not to wake him. Messages lit up the screen: updates from his aunt, furious and shocked that one of her employees had been caught harassing someone. The police had taken Foei in for questioning; charges were being filed. Karn typed back quickly; 'Suspend him immediately. I’ll handle the rest.'

His aunt agreed. By morning, Foei’s career would be in ruins.

But when Karn looked down at the sleeping omega in his arms, none of that seemed enough. Nothing could undo what Jeng had endured, not today, not years ago. All Karn could do was make sure it never happened again.

He kissed Jeng’s forehead softly, whispering against his skin. “You’re safe now. You’re mine. And I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again.”

Jeng stirred faintly, murmuring in his sleep, “mhm…” before settling back into the safety of his embrace.

Karn leaned back against the couch, tightening his hold. He knew the road ahead would be heavy for Jeng, nightmares, fear, the lingering ache of trauma, but he also knew this; Jeng wouldn’t have to walk it alone anymore.

Because family wasn’t just blood. Family was the arms you could collapse into when the world tried to break you. And Karn intended to be that home for Jeng, for the rest of his life.

​

Chapter Text

Word spread quickly. Karn hadn’t meant to tell anyone that night, but when his aunt called him again, her voice trembling between fury and guilt, Jeng stirred awake and whispered, “They should know.”

By the next evening, the entire family gathered at Karn’s parents’ house. Jeng sat beside Karn on the couch, knees pulled together, hands clenched in his lap. Karn’s arm never left his shoulders, a quiet wall of protection.

The room buzzed with restrained anger. Karn’s father paced near the fireplace, jaw tight, while his mother kept shooting worried glances at Jeng, as though afraid he would disappear if she looked away too long. His uncles, cousins, even the aunts who usually fussed over food and gossip, everyone was deadly serious.

“So he dared to lay a hand on you again?” one uncle spat, fists balling on the table. “That bastard should be rotting in a cell.”

Jeng flinched slightly at the sharpness in his tone, and Karn immediately rubbed his arm, scent wrapping around him like a shield. “Easy,” Karn muttered. “Don’t scare him.”

His aunt, the clinic owner, stepped forward, her voice breaking. “Jeng, I am so sorry. He worked under me and I never knew he was capable of this filth. I’ve already reported him to the medical board. His license is suspended pending investigation. He’ll never set foot in my clinic again.”

Jeng blinked at her, stunned. “You… you didn’t have to- ”

“Yes, I did.” Her eyes burned. “You’re part of this family now. And we protect our own.”

The words made Jeng’s throat tighten. He lowered his gaze, fighting tears.

Another uncle, the hospital director, leaned forward in his chair. “You know, Karn was always a wild child. Always fighting, always climbing walls. But you,” he turned his attention to Jeng, voice gentler, “you’re the steady one. You’re resilient. To have survived what you went through, to build your career, to stand here today… that’s strength. And it deserves respect, not cruelty.”

Karn squeezed Jeng’s thigh under the table, murmuring, “See? They know.”

The conversation grew louder, angrier. Karn’s cousins swore they’d go find Foei themselves if the law wasn’t enough. An aunt threatened to call every hospital in the city to blacklist his name. Even Karn’s father, who had been silent until then, finally spoke in a low, commanding voice:

“No man lays a hand on someone we love and walks away free. He will pay. But Jeng, ” He paused, stepping closer, placing a heavy, warm hand on Jeng’s shoulder. “you are not alone. Do you understand me? You are our son now. And we will fight for you.”

The weight of those words broke the dam inside Jeng. Tears spilled freely, and before he knew it, Karn’s mother was kneeling in front of him, cupping his face in both her hands.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, brushing his tears with her thumbs. “No more crying alone. No more carrying this by yourself. You call me Mae now, remember? Mae will always protect you.”

That was it. Jeng collapsed into her arms, sobbing, while Karn wrapped around him from behind. The rest of the family circled close, not touching but creating a wall of presence, of safety.

​

Chapter Text

Jeng had been different lately. The fire in his eyes that used to light up the hospital corridors was now tempered by exhaustion and anxiety. He moved mechanically, clocking endless hours, avoiding breaks, ignoring the pangs of hunger gnawing at his stomach. Karn had noticed the subtle signs at first, dark circles under his eyes, the way his hands shook slightly while holding instruments, but Jeng brushed him off every time.

“I’m fine, Phi… really.”

But Karn never believed him. Not once.

That day, Jeng had pushed himself further than usual. The last patient had been complicated, a procedure that should have required two experienced dentists, but he insisted on handling it alone. By the time he made it to the break room, his body was a furnace, trembling uncontrollably. The fluorescent lights seemed too bright, the walls too close.

He stumbled toward a chair, hands gripping the edge, but the world spun violently. His vision blurred, and before he could brace himself, he collapsed. His head struck the edge of the counter just enough to leave a sharp sting. Pain shot through him, and he groaned, trying to lift himself, but his body refused.

A nurse screamed, and within moments, a team of medical staff swarmed him. They carefully lifted him onto a stretcher, securing him as they prepared to transport him to the emergency care unit.

“Karn! He’s collapsed!” one of the nurses called into the phone, urgency slicing through the hospital corridor.

The moment the words reached him, Karn was gone. He left the consultation room mid-discussion, abandoned his phone on the counter, and sprinted through the hospital like a storm unbound. Every second without Jeng felt like a knife through his chest.

When Karn arrived, he barreled into the care unit, eyes wild and feral, scanning until he saw Jeng pale and shivering under the blankets. He immediately bent down, fingers brushing through Jeng’s damp hair, pulling him close.

“Baby… look at me. Hey, look at me,” Karn murmured, voice low and dangerous, but trembling with fear. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

The doctors were tense, but Karn barely heard them over the roar of his concern. “Vitals are dangerously low. He has deficiencies, he hasn’t been eating properly. He needs complete rest, now,” one of them said firmly.

Karn’s jaw clenched. “I understand. Don’t you dare leave him alone again,” he growled, his eyes never leaving Jeng’s face.

Jeng’s eyelids fluttered open, weak and watery. He tried to sit up, but the effort made him dizzy. Karn immediately wrapped his arms around him, holding him against his chest like a lifeline.

“Phi… I…” Jeng’s voice cracked, and he looked ashamed.

“Shhh, baby. Just breathe,” Karn soothed, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Tell me what happened. I’m here now, okay?”

Jeng shivered, tears brimming. “I… I’ve been trying to… distract myself… drown myself in work… skip meals… I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about everything… the anxiety… and I- ” His voice broke completely, and he curled further into Karn’s chest.

Karn tightened his arms, inhaling the scent of his omega, grounding him. “Shh… it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. You pushed yourself too hard, but you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

“But I hurt myself… Phi, I… I hit my head…” Jeng whispered, shaking.

“You’re fine, baby. I’m right here. No more pushing yourself to this point, do you understand?” Karn’s voice was both soft and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

Jeng nodded weakly against his chest, clinging to him like he would never let go. “I… I’m sorry, Phi… I didn’t mean to…”

Karn kissed the top of his head and murmured, “Shh… I know, sweetheart. You don’t have to explain. Just let me take care of you. I’ll always be here for you, always. You’re my omega, and I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

Jeng finally allowed himself to relax, burying his face in Karn’s chest. For the first time in days, he felt safe. And Karn, though still feral with worry, stayed close, letting the storm in his chest settle as he held Jeng against him, breathing in the scent of the omega he would never let go of.

The morning light had that washed-out, careful quality hospitals always wore after a long night. Jeng slept fitfully, the sheets tangled around him, cheeks still flushed from fever though the worst had passed. Karn sat in the recliner beside the bed, one arm draped protectively across Jeng’s hips, the other clutching the little paper cup of cooled broth a nurse had handed him. He hadn’t moved in hours; exhaustion had blotted out his usual restlessness. He simply watched Jeng breathe, counted the small rises of his chest, breathed with him.
---

The quiet broke with frantic footsteps in the corridor and voices, sharp, urgent, the kind that made nurses look up in instinctive worry.

Karn’s jaw tightened. He rose automatically, staying very close to the bed as footsteps reached the doorway. The door swung open and, like a cold wind from a past life, Jeng’s parents stood framed in the doorway. Their faces wore those practiced expressions, the look of outrage their family always used when they wanted to command a room. Behind them hovered two of Jeng’s cousins, guilty and apologetic; one avoided Karn’s eyes.

“Where is he?” Jeng’s mother demanded, voice pitched higher than sorrow and sharper than concern. “We were told our son collapsed. We are his legal guardians. We want to be informed of his condition and control his treatment. He is our son.”

Time slowed. Jeng, half-asleep, blinked awake, panic spilling across his features at the sight of them. His hands curled inward; his breath hitched.

Karn did not let them near the bed. He moved so fast it was almost an instinct, positioning himself between Jeng and the doorway, his stature broad and absolutely immovable. “No,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You’re not on the list. He has explicitly asked that he does not want contact. Not right now.”

Jeng’s father stepped forward, outrage brazen. “We have a right! he’s our son. We demand to be included in his care. We are his next of kin- ”

“Sir.” Karn’s voice dropped, cold as stone. “Not here. Not now. Leave.”

The mother’s lips curled. “Don’t you speak to us like that. We raised him. We have the right- ”

Karn moved like a coiled thing, menacing but controlled. “You raised him to abandon him. You called him weak. You- ” His voice fractured on the last word, raw. He inhaled, forced the animal in him back under lock and key. “Not here. Not to him.”

That was when the corridor filled with other boots, deliberate, heavy steps Karn had not expected, and the doorway brightened with a familiar face. The senior uncle, the hospital owner, the man whose name opened doors and shut them too, stood a pace in front of them all. He took in the scene with a single, slow, measured look and his expression hardened.

“You will leave,” he said, voice low but carrying. “Now.”

Jeng’s mother bristled. “We have rights- ”

“You do not have rights here,” the uncle interrupted, eyes icicles. “You are not on his consent list. You are not welcome at his bedside. If you persist, you will be escorted out and charges will be considered for trespass and harassment. You will not approach him again inside this hospital.” He turned then to Karn, softer: “We will handle this legally. Do not let them intimidate him.”

Karn exhaled with a sound Jeng felt in his bones. It took the heat out of Karn’s shoulders in a visible way, but Karn did not step away, not until the security officers moved forward and politely, firmly guided Jeng’s parents toward the exit. The cousins’ faces were stung with guilt; one of them mouthed an apology to Jeng as they were gently shepherded out.

Once the door closed and the hallway quieted, Karn bent over Jeng, forehead against his. “They’re gone, baby. They’re out,” he whispered. His voice was raw with strain and relief both. “I told them to leave. I told them exactly what I thought.”

Jeng’s hands trembled. “Phi- ” he started, the word a small, ragged prayer.

Karn pressed his thumb to his cheek. “I know.” He glanced up as the aunt, who had already been making calls, squeezed his shoulder. “He’ll be safe. I’ve already instructed legal and security to put a hospital-wide order in place. They will not contact him, and we will pursue a restraining order if they try. We’ll make sure their names are off any next-of-kin access.”

The aunt’s face was composed, but her voice shook with contained fury. “We will make sure he has no run-ins with them while he recovers. I have already pulled the clinic employee list. We will report any attempt from them to access Jeng to the board. This is unacceptable.”

Nurses began to relax. The charge nurse came in, bringing two steaming bowls of soup, broth carefully seasoned, soft rice broken into it, laid out on a tray with care labels and a sweet smile. Karn accepted the tray with a grateful nod and set it on the bedside table.

Karn’s mother bustled in next, wiping her hands on an apron as if she’d been in the kitchen herself. She moved with the exacting, practiced tenderness of someone who knew just how to mother; brushing Jeng’s hair from his brow, tearing off a corner of the plastic lid and leaning in to whisper, “Eat, baby. You must get your strength back.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead; Jeng’s face, still hollowed with stress, softened.

Karn’s father took up station by the foot of the bed, stout, steady, a presence that anchored the room. “If anyone tries to make trouble,” he said quietly to Karn, “tell me. I’ll put them in their place.” There was no drama. Just the kind of promise that made guarantees stick.

Karn’s aunt, already on the phone, making legal and administrative notes, rounded the bedside and placed two papers in Karn’s hand: a draft of the protective actions the hospital would take, and a note that the clinic would publicly post a ban on the offending employee and aid any investigations. “We’ve got this,” she murmured. “You and Jeng focus on him being well.”

Karn’s mother wiped his chin with a napkin as if he were a child, humming. “There. Eat. You will get strong again.” She smoothed the blanket over him and whispered to the family, “We will take turns staying. Let him rest.”

The hospital owner uncle sat back for a moment, watching the scene with a quiet satisfaction. “We’ll also assign him a light schedule,” he announced, voice practical. “No heavy rotations. Nurse cover will be increased. I’m calling his department head. He will have mandated leave and a support plan. And” he met Karn’s eyes “if his biological parents try anything, we will press charges for harassment.”

Karn’s throat worked. He leaned forward and kissed Jeng’s temple, murmuring, “You’re surrounded, baby. You don’t have to do a thing. Not now.”

Jeng let tears come again, but now they were threaded with relief, fragile, raw. He clung to Karn’s shirt and to the safety of so many hands in the room. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice thin.

Karn’s voice answered, steady as a low drum. “Always. I’ll break whatever is left of the world before I let it touch you again.”

The family settled into their protective orbit. Nurses organized a schedule so one of Karn’s relatives could stay by day, another by night; the hospital’s social worker sat down with Karn to arrange counselling referrals and to help Jeng set boundaries for his recovery. The owner made calls that would ensure no administrative loopholes could be exploited by those who’d tried to claim power of attorney. The aunt who ran the clinic would personally follow up with the investigation into Foei and ensure the board was notified and the press kept at bay until legal action was set.

When the room finally quieted, Karn took Jeng into his arms. The house of cards of panic had been toppled, rebuilt into something solid. Jeng’s breathing was more even. The tea warmed his hands. The soup had calmed his stomach enough for a nap.

Outside, the day unrolled in its ordinary way, but inside the small ward, Jeng slept, held and watched over. Karn kept his hand pressed to Jeng’s back, a steady, warm presence, and the family, noisy, meddling, fiercely loving, breathed around them like a shield.

And when Jeng stirred hours later, confused and softer, Karn leaned down, thumb wiping the last crumbs from his cheek. “You kept me waiting too long,” Karn teased gently.

Jeng smiled lopsided and weakly. “Next time, I’ll let you know I’m collapsing.”

“Good,” Karn said, amusement and relief warring in his tone. “Because I’ll be here. Always.”

Outside the glass, the city carried on. Inside, Jeng slept surrounded by the people who had chosen to be his family—his Phi’s family—and for the first time, the word family felt like a safe place rather than a threat.

Chapter Text

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the hospital blinds, painting the room in gentle gold. Jeng stirred in the bed, blankets tugged around him, hair mussed from sleep. His body felt lighter than it had in weeks, and even the lingering ache from his recent collapse seemed tempered by the presence beside him.

Karn, as always, had been awake first. He sat in the recliner next to Jeng’s bed, one arm draped across the younger man’s waist, the other brushing through his hair as he hummed quietly, a soft, grounding rhythm. The warmth of his Phi wrapped around Jeng like a shield, and for the first time in months, Jeng allowed himself to breathe without panic.

“Morning, baby,” Karn murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. “How’s my good boy feeling today?”

Jeng shifted slightly, a small smile breaking through the lingering fatigue. “Better… much better. Thanks to you, Phi.”

“Good,” Karn replied, voice low but steady. “You’ve been through enough. It’s time to start taking care of yourself properly. No more skipping meals, no more overworking to hide from your thoughts.”

Jeng nodded, a small laugh escaping him despite the remnants of exhaustion. “I… I think I can try.”

By mid-morning, the hospital had settled into its usual rhythm, but Jeng didn’t return to the frenzy of work immediately. Karn’s family—now fully aware of the events with Jeng’s own parents and Foei—had continued to check in, bringing meals, tea, and little tokens of care that made Jeng feel more like a part of something real than he ever had. The hospital director, Karn’s uncle, had personally adjusted his schedule, ensuring lighter workloads, more rest, and regular check-ins with supportive staff.

At breakfast, Jeng sat at the small table in the hospital’s family lounge, soup steaming gently in front of him. Karn had insisted on feeding him the first spoonful, teasing him with exaggerated solemnity. “Open, baby,” he said, mock seriousness in his tone. “Eat for your Phi. You need your strength.”

Jeng laughed softly, the sound a little rusty but genuine. “You’re ridiculous, Phi.”

“Absolutely,” Karn said, grinning, pressing a playful kiss to his temple. “But effective.”

Later, when the hospital quieted in the afternoon lull, Karn led Jeng to a private lounge overlooking the small garden outside. Sunlight spilled across the room, golden and warm. They sat together on the couch, Karn’s arm around Jeng, fingers tracing gentle patterns along his shoulder.

“You know, baby,” Karn murmured, voice soft, “this is how it’s supposed to feel. Safe. Warm. Loved. You belong here. With me. With my family. You’re part of it now, and I’ll never let you feel alone again.”

Jeng leaned into him, blinking back tears, feeling a fragile but growing sense of peace. “I… I’ve never felt like this before. Not… ever. Thank you, Phi. For… everything. For staying. For protecting me.”

Karn’s lips pressed to the top of his head, his hand tightening slightly around Jeng’s waist. “Always, sweetheart. Always.”

The day stretched into evening, but the weight of past traumas felt lighter now, buffered by love, safety, and belonging. Jeng allowed himself to truly relax for the first time in years, laughing at the small jokes Karn whispered, letting him brush his hair, rub his back, and kiss the corners of his eyes.

When the hospital lights dimmed for the night, Karn pulled Jeng into their shared apartment, tucking him under a warm blanket on the couch. He held him close, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, the scent of his omega mingling with his own.

“You’re home now, baby,” Karn whispered, pressing his forehead to Jeng’s. “No one can touch you. You’re mine. And I’ll always protect you.”

Jeng’s eyes fluttered shut, tears of relief and gratitude spilling over. “I’m home, Phi… with you.”

And for the first time in a long time, surrounded by love, protection, and warmth, Jeng believed it. The world outside could wait. Here, with Karn, he was finally safe.

The chapter closed not with fireworks or grand gestures, but with the quiet, enduring truth of intimacy and trust, two souls tethered together, ready to face whatever the future might hold.

​

Chapter Text

The late evening air clung heavy with exhaustion as Jeng slipped his shoes off by the doorway of Karn’s apartment. He had stopped by after their shift like he always did, shoulders slumping, hair sticking up in wild tufts from running his hand through it too many times. Karn had been waiting for him, sprawled on the couch with his tie loosened, the kind of weariness in his face that only long hospital days could carve.

But there was something else in Karn’s eyes tonight, quiet determination, as if he’d been turning words over and over in his head all day.

“Phi?” Jeng murmured, setting his bag down and stretching his arms above his head. “You look like you’ve been thinking too hard again.”

Karn chuckled, pulling Jeng down onto the couch beside him. He pressed a kiss against his temple, his arm tightening around Jeng’s waist. “I have been thinking too hard,” he admitted softly. Then, after a breath, his voice steadied. “Jeng… I don’t want to take any more risks with you. Not after everything we’ve been through. I want you safe, beside me, every day.”

Jeng blinked, caught off guard by the sudden gravity in Karn’s tone. “What do you mean?”

Karn turned to face him fully, his eyes dark but unwavering. “Move in with me.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air. Jeng’s lips parted, his breath hitching. Two years. Two years of healing, of laughter, of tears, of trust rebuilt brick by brick. They’d settled into routines together, long phone calls, shared dinners, overnight stays, but this was different. This was permanent.

“You mean…” Jeng’s voice faltered as he tried to suppress the warmth blooming in his chest. “As in... really live with you? Not just…staying over?”

Karn smiled faintly, brushing Jeng’s hair back from his forehead. “Really live with me. Every morning, every night. No more goodbyes at the door.”

A shy laugh escaped Jeng, his heart racing. “Phi, you’re full of surprises. But…” His voice softened, filled with quiet conviction. “Yes. I want that too. I want to take that step with you.”

Relief flooded Karn’s features, and he leaned forward to kiss Jeng gently, lingering. “Good. Because I’ve already started making space in my closet for your ridiculous number of hoodies.”

Jeng snorted, swatting at his chest. “Excuse me, they’re not ridiculous. And you own more ties than I own clothes, Phi. You’re one to talk.”

---

That night, instead of drifting off immediately, they stayed up late talking, serious, important things they had never fully voiced before.

“How do you feel about chores?” Jeng asked, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“I’ll do the cooking. You handle laundry,” Karn answered without hesitation.

“Deal,” Jeng said, grinning. Then he sobered, chewing his lip. “Phi, what about…when I get anxious again? You’ve seen how I get sometimes. What if it’s too much?”

Karn reached across the sheets and took his hand firmly. “Then I’ll hold you through it. Always. You don’t need to fear being a burden with me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeng’s throat tightened, and he squeezed Karn’s hand back.

“And what about when you get bossy and overprotective?” Jeng teased softly, his smile watery.

Karn chuckled, brushing a kiss over his knuckles. “Then you’ll remind me to breathe. Balance, remember?”

---
The very next day, Karn drove Jeng to his apartment to start packing.

“Phi, you’re supposed to be helping,” Jeng said, laughing as Karn lounged against the wall instead of folding clothes.

“I am helping,” Karn countered with a smirk. “I’m providing moral support. And making sure you don’t sneak your entire collection of scented candles into my place.”

“You’ll thank me when the place smells like vanilla cinnamon instead of sterile hospital,” Jeng shot back, rolling his eyes as he folded another sweater into the box.

Karn eventually relented and helped, though half the time he distracted Jeng with affectionate touches or dramatic commentary about Jeng’s questionable choice of patterned socks.

When they finished packing the first few boxes, Jeng collapsed onto the couch with a sigh. Karn sat beside him, tugging him close, resting his chin on Jeng’s shoulder.

“This feels real now,” Jeng murmured, eyes soft as he looked around at the half-empty apartment that had once been only his. “Scary. But good scary.”

“Good scary,” Karn echoed, kissing his jaw. “You and me, Jeng. That’s all that matters.”

And for the first time in a long time, Jeng felt the word home settle in his heart.

​

Chapter Text

Karn had never been nervous about telling his parents anything in his life, not until now. The following Sunday, he and Jeng sat in the living room of the family home, tea set out in delicate porcelain cups. His mother sat gracefully on the sofa, his father by her side, and his uncle, the hospital’s owner, leaned back in his chair, watching them with the amused patience of someone who already suspected the news.

Karn cleared his throat. “Mae, Phor… I wanted to tell you something important. Jeng and I, we’ve decided to move in together.”

His mother’s eyebrows lifted, surprise flashing before her face softened into a warm smile. “It’s about time,” she said gently, reaching forward to pat Jeng’s hand. “We’ve seen how you care for each other. I only hope Karn doesn’t drive you crazy with his habits.”

“Mae,” Karn muttered, shooting her a look, but his father chuckled.

“You’re both adults,” his father said firmly, though there was a faint hint of pride in his eyes. “If this is what makes you happy, then we support it.”

The uncle nodded approvingly, his gaze settling on Jeng. “You’ve come a long way since the day you first walked into my hospital, son. I couldn’t be prouder to see you building your own life, and with someone who clearly loves you.”

Jeng’s throat tightened at the unexpected praise, but Karn slipped his hand into his, squeezing. The warmth of family approval wrapped around him like a blanket, easing anxieties he hadn’t even voiced aloud.

---

Moving day came quickly. The apartment was filled with half-open boxes, stacks of folded clothes, and the distinct scent of cardboard. Jeng carried the smaller boxes while Karn insisted on handling the heavier loads.

“Phi, I can help with the bigger ones too,” Jeng protested as Karn lifted a box full of books.

“You’ll throw your back out,” Karn said flatly. “Besides, I’m older. It’s my job.”

“Thirty-five, not eighty-five,” Jeng muttered under his breath, but the corner of his lips twitched with amusement.

By the end of the afternoon, the apartment looked chaotic but alive, boxes scattered across the floor, their belongings blending together. Jeng sat cross-legged on the couch, opening a box of kitchen utensils, while Karn arranged his books on the shelves with almost comical precision.

“Phi, you don’t need to organize them alphabetically right away,” Jeng teased.

Karn turned, feigning seriousness. “Chaos is the enemy of peace. You’ll thank me later.”

Jeng laughed, shaking his head. “You’re lucky you cook well, or else I’d call you unbearable.”

---

That evening, they cooked their first meal together in the new place. Jeng stood at the counter chopping vegetables, while Karn manned the stove. The kitchen was small, but the closeness made it feel warmer.

When Karn reached over his shoulder to grab the salt, brushing lightly against him, Jeng turned his head and grinned. “Careful, Phi. You’ll burn the food if you get distracted staring at me.”

“I can multitask,” Karn murmured, kissing his cheek before returning to the pan.

They ate sitting side by side at the dining table, their knees brushing under the wood. It wasn’t fancy, just stir-fried vegetables and rice,but to Jeng it felt like a feast, because it was theirs. Their home.

---

The days that followed settled into a rhythm of small domesticity.

Jeng woke first most mornings, padding into the kitchen to brew coffee while Karn grumbled from the bedroom. Karn insisted on ironing their clothes before work, while Jeng teased him mercilessly about being “too proper.” Evenings were spent curled up on the couch, sometimes talking about their day, other times quietly working side by side.

The family dog even visited once when Karn’s parents dropped by. The pup bounded through the apartment, tail wagging furiously, before launching himself into Jeng’s lap. Karn’s family laughed in delight as the dog covered Jeng in sloppy kisses.

“Looks like he’s chosen his favorite,” Karn’s mother said with a chuckle.

Karn raised an eyebrow, scooping the dog up and giving him a mock stern look. “He’s mine, not yours,” he scolded jokingly, though his lips twitched into a smile.

Jeng smirked, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Sorry, Phi. He’s still cuter than you.”

Karn narrowed his eyes playfully. “Watch yourself, Jeng.”

The whole family burst out laughing at the exchange, the easy warmth of it filling the apartment until it truly felt like home.

---

That night, after the family left and the laughter faded into quiet, Jeng curled against Karn on the couch, sighing softly. “I didn’t think it would feel this natural. Living with you.”

Karn kissed the top of his head. “That’s because it was always supposed to be this way. You and me, Jeng. Always.”

And as the city lights flickered through the window, the two of them drifted into the kind of peace that only came with building a life together.

​

Chapter Text

The first week in their new home passed in a blur of unpacked boxes, late-night takeout, and quiet laughter echoing against unfamiliar walls. Every corner of the apartment was slowly being shaped into something that reflected them.

One evening, after a particularly long shift at the hospital, they returned home together, exhausted yet oddly restless. The city outside was alive with faint traffic, but in their apartment, the world felt hushed, private.

Karn tossed his tie onto the arm of the sofa with a sigh, leaning back against the cushions. Jeng walked into the kitchen, pouring them each a glass of water before setting one down on the coffee table.

“You’ve been working too much again,” Jeng murmured, sitting beside him.

“And you haven’t?” Karn countered, raising a brow. But the sharpness softened as he reached over, brushing Jeng’s hair from his face. “You’re pale. I don’t want you skipping meals anymore.”

Jeng leaned into his touch, closing his eyes. “I promise. It’s just… easier when I’m here with you.”

Something in that quiet confession made Karn’s chest tighten. He tilted Jeng’s chin up, studying him under the warm lamplight. There was a silence between them, charged yet gentle, before Karn leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to Jeng’s lips.

---

The kiss deepened, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. Jeng’s hands slid up to Karn’s shoulders, clutching him as if grounding himself. Karn shifted closer, cupping his face with both hands, thumbs tracing over his skin.

They broke apart only to breathe, foreheads pressed together. Jeng’s lips curved into a shaky smile. “Phi… here?"

Karn’s answering smile was soft, reverent. “Our home. Our rules.”

Jeng’s heart pounded as Karn stood, tugging him gently toward the bedroom. Clothes were shed between kisses, not in haste but with tenderness, each layer peeled away like a secret offered, a trust deepened.

---

Their intimacy that night was not about urgency but about belonging. Karn was careful, his hands steady, guiding Jeng with patience, murmuring reassurance with every movement. Jeng responded with quiet gasps and whispered “Phi” against his lips, giving himself over completely.

When the tension finally broke, it was with Jeng clinging to him, breathless, and Karn holding him close as though he’d never let go.

---

After, Karn cleaned him gently, bringing a warm cloth and fresh water, fussing in that way only he could. He tucked Jeng beneath the sheets, slipping in beside him and wrapping him in his arms.

“You’re trembling,” Karn whispered, kissing the damp hair at his temple.

“Not scared,” Jeng reassured, his voice thick with sleep. “Just… happy. I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

Karn’s chest ached at the honesty. He kissed him again, softly, and pulled him closer. “You’re everything to me, Jeng. My home isn’t this place, it’s you.”

Jeng’s hand fisted weakly in his shirt, a tired smile on his lips. “Then don’t let go.”

“Never,” Karn promised.

They drifted into sleep like that, the city lights spilling through the curtains, two hearts beating steady against one another, bound by trust and love that only deepened in the quiet of their first true night together.

​

Chapter Text

Two years passed in the blink of an eye.

It wasn’t dramatic or loud, the way time moved. It was quiet, stitched together with early morning coffees, nights spent going over case files, evenings where Karn came home to Jeng humming in the kitchen, and weekends where they slept in, tangled in the sheets until the sun was already high.

Jeng had grown into himself in these two years. His confidence at the hospital was steady, his smile brighter, though he still had days where anxiety clawed at him. On those nights, Karn would hold him close and remind him that he wasn’t alone. And slowly, the sharp edges of the past dulled, softened by love, patience, and safety.

For Karn, life had taken on a rhythm he never wanted to let go of. But the truth weighed on him quietly: though everyone knew they were each other’s world, he wanted more. He wanted permanence. He wanted to give Jeng the promise he deserved.

---

One evening, after watching Jeng doze off on the couch with a medical journal open across his chest, Karn felt it with certainty. The lamplight softened the curve of his face, his lashes resting gently on his cheeks, and Karn thought, He’s it. He’s always been it. And I’m done waiting.

---

The next day, Karn drove to his parents’ house. His uncle, the owner of the hospital, was there too, as if fate had gathered them all for this moment.

When Karn spoke, his voice was calm but carried a depth that made everyone still.

“I want to propose to Jeng.”

For a moment, silence. Then his mother let out a small gasp, pressing her hands to her lips. “Karn… oh, darling, we’ve been waiting for this. Do you know how happy this makes me?”

His father gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re thirty-seven, son. About time you settled this properly. Jeng has already been family to us for years.”

His uncle leaned forward, practical as always. “Do you have a plan in mind?”

Karn did. He explained it carefully, he wanted the proposal by the sea. Jeng loved the ocean, the endless horizon that made him feel free. Karn wanted to kneel on the sand with the waves crashing behind them and ask him to be his forever.

His mother’s eyes sparkled with tears. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

The family didn’t just nod, they began helping immediately. Suggestions flew across the room: lanterns, flower petals, candles lining the beach path, even food arrangements for after. His uncle promised to handle the logistics. His parents said they’d be there to witness but far enough away to give them privacy.

By the end of the meeting, Karn had everything he needed. Tomorrow, Jeng would be his.

---

Karn woke early the next morning, pressing a soft kiss to Jeng’s forehead.

“Phi…” Jeng groaned, trying to bury himself under the blanket. “It’s my day off…”

“I know.” Karn’s voice was warm, coaxing. “That’s why you’re coming with me. No work today. No hospital. Just us.”

Jeng cracked one eye open, suspicious. “You sound like you’re up to something.”

Karn smirked. “Maybe I am.”

Reluctantly, Jeng sat up, yawning, and Karn couldn’t resist cupping his cheek, brushing away his messy hair. “Come on. Trust me.”

---

Their morning started at a cozy café Jeng had once mentioned wanting to try. Sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows, making everything golden. They shared croissants and coffee, Jeng laughing when Karn stole a bite off his plate.

“You’re supposed to order your own,” Jeng teased.

“Why, when yours tastes better?” Karn replied smoothly, earning an eye roll.

---

By midday, Karn whisked Jeng to a spa and salon. Jeng nearly stumbled when he realized what was happening.

“Phi! No way, this is too much.”

“You deserve to be spoiled,” Karn said firmly, guiding him inside.

Jeng sat awkwardly at first while stylists fussed over his hair and skin, but Karn stayed close, watching him with that soft, unwavering gaze. Every time Jeng tried to protest, Karn shut him up with a simple, “You’re beautiful.”

By the time they left, Jeng’s hair shone, his skin glowing under the light, and Karn felt proud, like the world could finally see what only he had been lucky enough to hold all this time.

---

Evening rolled in, and Karn brought Jeng to a quiet mall. They wandered hand in hand, buying small things: candles for their apartment, a new tie for Karn that Jeng insisted on choosing. They stopped by a bookstore, and Karn bought Jeng the latest medical text he’d been eyeing but hadn’t bought for himself yet.

By the time they returned home, Karn had dinner ready, Jeng’s favorite dish, carefully plated. The table was set with candles, soft music playing in the background.

Jeng blinked, taken aback. “Phi… what’s all this?”

Karn pulled out his chair with a small smile. “Dinner. Sit.”

They ate together, quiet laughter filling the apartment. Halfway through, Jeng set down his fork, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re up to something. You’ve been… different all day.”

Karn leaned over, brushing a kiss to his cheek. “Maybe I just love you.”

Jeng flushed red but didn’t push further, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.

---

That night, as they curled up in bed, Jeng nestled into Karn’s chest, exhausted but content. His breathing evened out, slow and peaceful. Karn stayed awake longer, staring at the ceiling, then back at the boy in his arms.

He kissed Jeng’s hair gently, his voice low so as not to wake him.

“Tomorrow, love. Tomorrow, I’ll ask you to be mine forever.”

The waves of the sea waited for them.

​

Chapter Text

The morning had that soft, sea-breeze clarity that promised a good day. Karn woke early with a quiet, steady excitement he had never shown to anyone, not even the old colleagues who knew him as the unflappable head of surgery. Today was private. Today was for Jeng.

He padded into the bedroom where Jeng still slept, hair mussed, face relaxed in the rare peace of untouched morning. Karn pressed a kiss to his forehead and watched him for a long second, memorizing the curve of his cheek, the way his lashes made a small, perfect shadow. Then he slipped away to finish the small, careful preparations he’d kept secret;  a simple velvet box, the ring inside, and a bouquet of white lilies and pale pink roses he’d chosen himself.

When he came back, Jeng was awake, blinking sleep from his eyes with a smile that made Karn's chest ache. Karn had picked an outfit that morning, soft linen trousers and a button-down in a pale ocean blue. He held it out with mock severity. “Change into this. No protests.”

Jeng raised an eyebrow but took the clothes, cheeks already turning a faint shade of pink. “You look ridiculous fussing so much,” he said, but his fingers trembled the smallest bit as he undid the top buttons of his shirt and slipped the new fabric over his head.

Karn helped him with the final touch, straightening the collar, tucking a stray hair behind Jeng’s ear. He handed him the flowers, watching Jeng’s face light when he saw them. “For you,” Karn said simply. “For tonight.”

Jeng held the bouquet like it was fragile and precious, and in Karn’s eyes he was both.

They drove with the windows down, sea-salt air combing through their hair. The beach Karn had chosen was a small crescent a little way from the city, with a wide wash of sand and a private cove that held the sound of waves close and hushed. As they pulled into the small lot, Karn’s heart picked up speed, part nerves, part joy, as his family slipped out of sight to take their places behind a line of dunes, smiles hidden and cameras ready.

Karn had planned it all so that it would feel like a surprise but still be utterly Jeng; lanterns tucked into sand-filled glass jars, a scattering of rose petals that led to a low blanket and two cushions. His uncle’s crew had set a soft string of lights on a leaning driftwood frame, and at the center, like a little altar to the life Karn wanted, there was a single chair facing the sea.

Hand in hand, they walked the path of petals. Jeng’s fingers curled around Karn’s, thumb worrying the older man’s knuckles as if to keep them both present in the moment. The ocean stretched, pale and endless, a bright smear of horizon. Wind teased at Jeng’s hair; his scent lifted on the breeze soft, uniquely his, and Karn felt, impossibly, even more certain.

They reached the little setup. Karn let go of Jeng’s hand for a moment, stepping back, taking a breath as if to steady himself. Jeng saw the look on his face, the mixture of tenderness and practiced control that had always been Karn’s mask, and knew this was the moment.

“Phi Karn?” Jeng whispered, voice small.

Karn dropped to one knee as if the sand itself were a witness. He opened the velvet box. The ring nestled inside, a band with a simple line of tiny diamonds that caught the sunlight like a promise. Karn’s voice was steady but intimate. “Jeng, sweetheart, you are my home. You’re my peace, my chaos, my better morning and my steadier night. I love you with a quiet devotion that has grown loud over the years. I want to spend the rest of my life keeping you safe, making you laugh, holding you when the past comes back. Will you marry me? Will you be my mate, my partner, for always?”

It was everything he’d rehearsed and none of it, poured raw between them. Jeng’s breath hitched; his eyes filled, not with surprise but with remembering, the broken boy who had once been afraid of touch, the slow rebuilding that had led him here. He swallowed, tears pooling, and when he spoke his voice was full of an ache that felt like gratitude. “Phi Karn… yes. Yes, I will. A thousand times yes.”

Karn’s face, usually composed, crumpled into a grin that was almost boyish. He slipped the ring onto Jeng’s finger with hands that trembled, not from lack of control, but from the enormity of the promise. Then he rose, wrapped Jeng in both arms, and lifted him off the sand. Jeng’s laughter burst out between sobs, breathless and bright, and Karn spun him around under the dying golden light until both of them were dizzy with the sea air and happiness.

From over the dunes, a chorus rose, cheers, laughter, clapping. Karn’s family stepped into view like a warm tide, faces beaming. His mother hurried forward first, arms out, and folded Jeng into a fierce embrace as if he were her own son returned. “Mae and Pa are so happy,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to Jeng’s hair. Karn’s father clapped him solidly on the shoulder, eyes wet with pride. His uncle, the hospital owner, offered a brief, formal grin and then pulled them both into a congratulatory hug. Cousins and aunts arrived in a happy swarm, calling out congratulations, snapping pictures, fussing over the couple.

“They make such a handsome pair!” someone declared, and another relative fussed over Jeng’s collar with mock precise gestures. The family had brought out a small picnic, local sweets wrapped in paper, and bottles of Thai tea chilled and ready. A little niece pressed a paper flower into Jeng’s hand and beamed.

Karn met Jeng’s eyes and whispered, only so the two of them could hear: “You’ve made me the luckiest man alive.”

Jeng smiled through the tears, fingers curled around the ring Karn had chosen. “And you’ve given me a world I never thought I deserved. Thank you, Phi. For everything.”

They walked back up the petal path together, arms linked. Family crowded close, doting, teasing, lavishing warmth and congratulations like sunlight. Karn’s mother fussed over Jeng’s sleeves, Karn’s aunt chattered about wedding plans even before the words were out of Jeng’s mouth, and the uncle nudged Karn with conspiratorial glee: “We’ll handle everything. You focus on being happy.”

That night, as the sky darkened and the string lights blinked softer, they sat on the blanket wrapped in a shared cardigan. Jeng leaned against Karn’s shoulder, forehead to temple, and the sea murmured behind them. Kids nearby chased one another in the surf; someone strummed a guitar at a respectful distance. The air tasted of salt and possibility.

Karn threaded his hand with Jeng’s, thumb tracing the new weight of the ring. “We’ll tell everyone properly soon,” he murmured. “But I wanted this, just us, and the ocean.”

Jeng curled into him, fingers stroking the fabric of his shirt. “It was perfect. Thank you for making me brave, Phi.” He laughed softly. “And for picking the ring I actually like.”

Karn chuckled, his lips brushed his temple, soft and sure. “Always, baby. Forever.”

The tide pulled at the sand and left a smooth surface where their footprints had been. They stayed until the lights dimmed and the last relatives waved goodnight, until the ring was warm against Jeng’s skin and the word yes hummed between them like a vow newly carved into the world.

Chapter Text

The week before the wedding felt like a compressed lifetime.

Karn’s family home was a flurry of careful chaos, bolts of silk and lace in neat stacks, trays of jasmine and rose petals arriving from the florist, and the low, constant hum of voices as a dozen small decisions made themselves into a whole. Karn’s mother fussed over every detail with delighted authority: the table settings, the precise placement of the orchids, which cousin would be stationed by the welcome table. Karn’s father negotiated quietly with the caterer about the congee and the shrimp dishes that Jeng liked. Karn’s uncle, ever practical, sorted logistics and timelines, calling vendors and confirming the sound system.

Jeng was swept up in all of it, more often than not the recipient of attention rather than its orchestrator. He felt oddly dizzy with it, the warmth of hands smoothing his sleeve, aunts cooing over his hair, cousins debating whether the groom should have a darker suit or a midnight-blue one. When they measured him for his suit, his mother-in-law-to-be fussed at the tailor until his jacket fit like armor and comfort in one.

“Mae, you don’t have to be so cruel to the tailor,” Karn teased, pinching Jeng’s shoulder as he passed.

“Someone must be cruel to make perfection,” Karn’s mother shot back. “He must look like a prince.” She planted an affectionate peck on Jeng’s cheek. Jeng flushed and buried his face in his hands, half embarrassment, half pure, inexperienced delight at being loved.

They went dress shopping together a few days later. Jeng stood in front of the mirror, swallowing at the unfamiliar shock of seeing himself in clean lines and fine fabric. Karn stood behind him, fingers resting on his waist, breath warm against the shell of his ear.

“You look breathtaking,” Karn murmured. “Like the world is suddenly more correct.”
“Phi,” Jeng breathed, the old honorific a prayer on his lips. “Don’t say things that make me cry in public.”
Karn just kissed his temple and squeezed his hand. “Then don’t cry in public. Save them for me.”

---

A month later, the day arrived. The venue, a sunlit garden at Karn’s family estate, swept an aisle of Egyptian grass between rows of white chairs, petals scattered like a pale river. Lanterns waited in the hedges, ready for twilight. Friends, colleagues, and the family they’d chosen gathered with polite excitement and a few damp eyes. Karn’s parents were everywhere at once; calming a nervous cousin, arranging seats for the elderly aunties, smoothing a stray lock of hair from Jeng’s forehead when he wasn’t looking.

Then Jeng’s phone buzzed in the pocket of his jacket as he adjusted his cufflinks in a quiet side room. He glanced down to see his mother’s name on the screen. A small, cold ache spread through him. He didn’t answer.

Karn saw and took the phone gently from his hand. He looked at the name, then at Jeng, and his jaw set in that slow, patient way where the air itself seemed to align behind him.

“Do you want me to take it?” Karn asked softly. “You don’t have to.”
Jeng’s mouth was a thin line. He nodded. “Please, Phi.” His voice barely held.

Karn put the call on speaker, keeping his tone calm but absolute. “Hello?”
On the other end, Jeng’s mother’s voice was careful with civility. “We heard… we’d like to come. For the wedding. It’s our right to be there.”
Karn’s eyes didn’t leave the small, steady face at his side. He inhaled, then spoke with a low, measured calm that carried the weight of his family and his promise. “You are not invited. You will not be allowed near Jeng today. He has asked to be left alone. If you come, security will escort you off the property. This is not negotiable.”

There was a hiss of outrage. Jeng’s mother pushed the line, voice high with entitlement. “You can’t do that! he’s our son-”
“Not today,” Karn cut in, harder now. “Not ever, unless he asks. Do not come.” He held the phone steady until the call ended abruptly with a rash of angry words. He set the phone down and put both hands over Jeng’s, squeezing.

Jeng’s shoulders shook; his eyes filled, but he did not speak. He didn’t have to. Karn’s hand at the small of his back said it all; you are safe. I am here.

---

The garden filled with the low murmur of guests and the gentle pluck of strings as the ceremony music began. Karn took his place at the altar, a simple arch of driftwood and roses. His suit fit like it had been made for this exact posture: square-shouldered, composed, but with a tremor of feeling that betrayed itself in the sharpness of his breath when he watched the first petals drift.

Moments later, a furor at the gate shocked the quiet; Jeng’s parents had arrived and tried to force their way in. They’d driven straight to the estate, assuming they could muscle in on the day. Security was fast; Karn’s uncle, never one to hold back, arrived with a look that cut sharper than any sword. He marched out the path and intercepted them before they reached the seated guests.

“It is private,” the uncle said without preamble, his voice one of those that either persuades or terrifies. “You are trespassing. You will leave now. If you do not, we will have you removed by the police.”

Jeng’s mother spluttered indignantly, voice flaring in the bright air. “He cannot cut us out of our son’s life-”
Karn stepped forward then, slow and undeniable.
“You have been given a warning,” he said, low and final. “Please leave. This day is not for your cruelty.”

They argued. They threatened. But the estate staff, backed by Karn’s uncles and cousins who’d arrived early for last-minute tasks, did not budge. Security escorted Jeng’s parents to their car, the driveway a swath of shame. A few sympathetic guests watched, and in the hush afterward, Karn’s family closed ranks around Jeng like a living shield.

Jeng’s knees trembled, but he did not follow them. He stayed, backed by the people who had protected him since the collapse that had changed everything, and he breathed. When Karn returned to his side, he tucked his hand into Jeng’s and gave it a squeeze so full of promise it steadied him.

---

The ceremony began properly then. The officiant spoke of vows and choices, of promises made not because of pressure but because of love intentionally given. Jeng walked down the aisle on Karn’s father’s arm. His suit was perfect, linen a soft gray that caught the sun. His bouquet trembled slightly in his hands; the breeze lifted stray hairs to halo his face.

When Karn saw him, something that had been lodged in his chest for years gave way. Tears glimmered in his eyes not sorrow but an almost aching gratitude. The stoic man who could command an operating theater fell silent on the brink of raw feeling. Jeng looked radiant. Beautiful framed the word too small.

They stood under the arch as the officiant directed their vows. Karn’s voice was steady, words honed by years of practice at making decisions and keeping promises. “Jeng,” he said, “I promise to keep you safe, to guard your heart, and to make our life a place where you can heal and grow. I vow to laugh with you, to cry with you, and to be the home you can always come back to.”

Jeng’s response trembled with all the soft edges of a life rebuilt. “Phi Karn, I promise to be truthful and present. I promise to let you hold me when I fall and to try to be brave for both of us. I promise my love, my trust—the parts that were broken and the parts you helped fix.”

There was a hush, a step forward, the exchange of rings — small bands that fit like the sealing of a secret. They said, together, “I do.” Then, with a laugh that broke into tears, they kissed: long, certain, a sealing that felt like the closing of a long night and the opening of a whole bright day.

---

The garden erupted into applause. Karn lifted Jeng into his arms in a reflexive, jubilant spin, carrying him a little way down the aisle as cousins whooped and aunts clapped delightedly. His mother sobbed with joy, his father beamed with satisfied pride, and Karn’s uncle gave one theatrical bow.

Later, under a canopy of lantern lights and laughter, the whole family celebrated the couple. There was food set out in long communal trays, toasts from colleagues that made Karn flush, and endless teasing from cousins about the honeymoon. Jeng found himself pulled from group to group, an aunt fussing over his hair, the family dog hopping into his lap for a cuddle, and every time he felt the old fear try to creep in, he glanced at Karn and felt it shrink away.

At one point, Karn drew Jeng to a quiet corner, pressed his forehead to his and whispered, “You did this. You chose this. I adore you.” Jeng laughed through the tears, leaning into the touch. “I chose you too, Phi. I’m yours.”

They passed the rest of the night in a blur of music, food, and careful, ordinary joy, sitting side by side in the late hours, watching cousins attempt a ridiculous dance, letting the family fuss over them until they slipped away hand in hand, slipping into a car that smelled faintly of jasmine and the sea-air of the proposal night.

Outside, the night was wide and long. Inside, they had been declared husband and husband, each other’s shelter, each other’s promise. The hurt that had once defined Jeng’s life was shut out for the night by laughter and a hundred beaming faces who had chosen him without condition.

Karn pressed a kiss to Jeng’s temple before they left, voice a murmur for only him. “Home,” he said.
“Home,” Jeng echoed, and for once that word felt like a soft, certain thing.

---

The house was silent when Karn closed the front door behind them. The echoes of their wedding still lingered in their bodies,music, laughter, the warmth of family, but now it was just them. Husband and husband.

Karn set down the keys, then turned to Jeng. His husband. The word alone nearly undid him. Jeng was still in his wedding attire, his cheeks flushed pink, his eyes shimmering with nerves and happiness.

“Phi…” Jeng whispered, his voice trembling.

Karn stepped forward and cupped his face gently, brushing his thumb across his cheek. “Sweetheart… you’re mine now, truly. Are you ready?”

Jeng’s lips curved into a shy smile. “I’ve been ready since the day I said yes to you.”

Karn kissed him, slow and deep, savoring every sigh and little gasp that slipped from Jeng’s mouth. He guided him to their bedroom, where petals still decorated the sheets. Jeng sat on the bed, fidgeting with his fingers. Karn knelt before him, resting his head in Jeng’s lap.

“You’re beautiful,” Karn murmured. “My husband. My everything.”

Jeng’s hands trembled as they threaded through Karn’s hair. “Phi… don’t stop saying that.”

Karn didn’t. As he undressed Jeng with patient hands, he whispered soft praises into every patch of skin revealed. “Pretty boy… mine… perfect…” Jeng flushed, trying to hide his face, but Karn wouldn’t let him. He kissed away the shyness, replacing it with gasps of pleasure.

Their first time together as husbands was unhurried. Karn kissed down Jeng’s body reverently, taking time to learn every reaction, every spot that made him shiver and sigh. When Jeng clutched his shoulders and whispered “Phi… I need you,” Karn nearly broke with how much love he felt.

He held Jeng close, moving with care, never letting him feel alone. Jeng moaned softly, the sound raw and vulnerable, calling “Phi” again and again like it was the only word that mattered. Karn soothed every tremor with kisses, every tear with whispered reassurances.

After, when Jeng was spent and trembling, Karn pulled him into his chest, wrapping him tightly in his arms. He kissed his forehead and stroked his back until Jeng relaxed against him.

“You’re safe,” Karn whispered. “I’ll take care of you, always.”

Jeng buried his face in his chest. “I believe you, Phi. I always have.”

They fell asleep tangled together, the scent of flowers lingering faintly in the room, hearts bound tighter than ever.

---

Walking hand in hand through the hospital doors the next morning felt different. Their colleagues had known about their relationship, but now the matching gold rings on their fingers made everything official.

The first to spot them was Nurse May, who clapped her hands together.
“Ohhh! Look at you two! Married men now, huh?”

Jeng’s cheeks turned bright red immediately. He ducked his head, trying to tug his hand free, but Karn only tightened his grip proudly.
“Yes,” Karn said with a soft smile. “He’s mine.”

Another nurse, Lek, leaned over the counter, grinning mischievously.
“So, Dr. Karn… did you two actually get any sleep last night?”

The nurses burst out laughing. Jeng’s face went crimson.
“P-Phi!” he hissed under his breath, trying to hide behind Karn.

But Karn was unbothered. In fact, he smirked.
“Not much,” he replied smoothly, eyes glittering with mischief. “But it was worth it.”

The teasing only got louder.
“Poor Jeng, don’t let him exhaust you already!”
“Careful, you’ll show up with dark circles tomorrow!”
“You two look too happy, it’s suspicious!”

Jeng buried his face in Karn’s arm, whining softly. “Phi, stop… they’re making fun of us…”

Karn bent down, kissing the top of his head in front of everyone, his voice low but firm.
“Let them tease. I’m proud to be your husband.”

That shut the staff up for a second, most of them melting at the tenderness. Then came another round of squeals and giggles.

By the end of the shift, the teasing hadn’t stopped. Lunch in the cafeteria was interrupted by a tray of extra desserts “for the newlyweds.” A few nurses even demanded to see more wedding pictures, cooing over how handsome Karn looked in his suit and how radiant Jeng was walking down the aisle.

It was embarrassing for Jeng, but as he watched Karn laugh and share their joy so easily, his heart felt warm. He wasn’t just loved in private, he was cherished openly, too.

That evening, as they walked out of the hospital together, Jeng leaned against Karn’s arm with a soft sigh.
“They’re never going to stop teasing us, are they?”

Karn chuckled, kissing the side of his head. “Probably not. But that’s alright. Let the whole world know I married the prettiest boy alive.”

Jeng smiled, his heart fluttering. “Phi… you always know what to say.”

“Of course,” Karn replied, pulling him close as they stepped out into the golden sunset. “You’re my husband. And I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that.”

​

Chapter Text

The evening was quiet in their home, the kind of silence that only came after long days at the hospital. Karn and Jeng were curled up in their bedroom, the air faintly scented with the jasmine candle Jeng had lit earlier. Their laughter from dinner still lingered in the air, but now it was replaced by something heavier, softer, desire that pressed against them like an unspoken question.

Karn leaned over Jeng, kissing along his throat, savoring the warmth of his skin. Jeng’s fingers clutched at Karn’s shoulders, his breaths uneven as he whispered, “Phi…” in that voice that always drove Karn mad. Karn trailed kisses down, peeling away layers of fabric until Jeng’s smooth skin was exposed to him.

When Karn’s lips brushed over Jeng’s stomach, he lingered. He rested his hand gently there, his thumb stroking across the soft curve of his belly. Jeng shivered at the unexpected tenderness, looking down in confusion.

“Mhm?” Jeng muffled softly, his cheeks pink.

Karn didn’t answer at first. His gaze was fixed, almost reverent, on Jeng’s tummy. His chest tightened with a longing he’d carried for so long, hidden even from himself. He pressed another kiss there, slow and lingering, before finally lifting his head.

“Jeng…” Karn’s voice was husky, trembling with emotion. “Do you know how beautiful you look like this? Every time I see you, especially here” his palm pressed to Jeng’s stomach gently, “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you… carrying my pup.”

Jeng’s breath hitched, his entire body trembling at the words. His wide eyes shimmered as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Phi… you…” He swallowed hard, his lips parting. “You really mean that?”

Karn cupped his face tenderly, nodding without hesitation. “I’ve been thinking about it for so long, Nong. I want to start a family with you. I want to see you glowing, carrying our child. I want to build that life with you.” His voice cracked slightly as he leaned his forehead against Jeng’s. “I want it more than anything.”

Jeng let out a shaky laugh, tears already threatening to spill from his eyes. “Phi… I thought… I was the only one dreaming of that.” His hand covered Karn’s, pressing it tighter against his stomach. “I’ve wanted to carry your pup for so long. I kept imagining it, us, with a baby in our arms. Our baby. Yours and mine.”

Karn’s heart pounded so hard it almost hurt. He kissed Jeng fiercely, pouring every ounce of his longing into it. “Then let’s make it real,” he whispered against his lips. “Let’s take that step together.”

Jeng nodded, overwhelmed, tears spilling down his cheeks as he smiled. “Yes, Phi. I’m ready. I want it too. I want to be yours in every way, to carry your pup.”

“Say it again,” Karn urged softly, his hand sliding down Jeng’s side, his eyes burning with a mix of love and hunger.

Jeng, trembling but resolute, whispered, “Breed me, Phi. Give me your pup."

Karn groaned at the words, burying his face in Jeng’s neck as if the plea had unraveled him completely. “You don’t know what that does to me, Baby…”

“I do,” Jeng whispered back, wrapping his arms around him tightly, his voice both tender and desperate. “Because I feel the same.”

Their kisses deepened again, their touches more urgent, every movement charged with the weight of their decision. Tonight was no longer just about passion, it was about creating something bigger than themselves. Every caress, every whispered promise, carried the meaning of the life they wanted to bring into the world.

And as the night stretched on, their love took on a new depth, one that bound them tighter, not just as husbands, but as future parents, two souls ready to step into the next chapter of their lives together.

---

The clinic smelled faintly of antiseptic, but Jeng didn’t mind. He sat beside Karn, fingers laced tightly with his husband’s as they waited for the doctor to come in. Karn kept squeezing his hand every few seconds, as if to reassure him, though Jeng could tell Karn was the one most nervous.

Finally, the doctor walked in, her smile warm and professional. She greeted them and ran through all the tests, reviewing their results carefully. After what felt like an eternity, she looked up with a reassuring smile.

“Both of you are perfectly healthy,” she said. “There’s no reason you can’t start a family. You’re ready whenever you feel ready.”

Jeng let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, leaning his head against Karn’s shoulder. Karn kissed the top of his head, his eyes shining with relief and joy. “You hear that, Sweetie?” he whispered. “We can really do this.”

Jeng nodded, smiling so brightly his cheeks hurt. “We can.”

The following weeks were filled with laughter, tenderness, and countless moments of trying. Karn treated every night with care, never rushing, always showering Jeng with love and attention. For Jeng, it was more than just intimacy, it was the dream they were building together, one step at a time.

About a month later, Jeng started noticing the changes. He felt a little more tired than usual, his body heavier in subtle ways. But what struck him most was the shift in his scent. Omegas always had their distinct sweetness, but now it was richer, softer, tinged with something new, life.

Karn noticed it immediately. He came home from work one evening, and the moment he buried his face in Jeng’s neck, he froze. His arms tightened around him, his breaths shaky.

“Jeng…” Karn whispered, pulling back just enough to search his face. “Your scent… it’s different. It’s… warm. New.” His eyes widened with hope. “Could it be…?”

Jeng’s heart hammered. He had been wondering the same, but hearing Karn say it made it real. Without another word, he rushed to the bathroom, fumbling with the test he had bought days ago but hadn’t dared to use. Karn followed, his hands trembling as he waited outside the door.

Minutes felt like hours until Jeng finally opened the door, clutching the little stick with wide, tear-filled eyes. His lips trembled as he whispered, “Phi… it’s positive.”

Karn’s world stopped. He stared at the test, then at Jeng, before his entire body sagged with relief and overwhelming joy. “Oh my god…” His voice broke as tears spilled down his cheeks. He scooped Jeng up into his arms without hesitation, spinning him around the room. Jeng laughed through his own tears, wrapping his arms around Karn’s neck.

Karn kissed him desperately, over and over, whispering against his lips, “I can't believe this is real.”

They finally sank onto the couch, still holding each other as their tears and laughter mixed. Karn cupped Jeng’s face tenderly. “Are you okay with telling the family? I don’t want you to feel pressured, Baby.”

Jeng’s smile was radiant, his hand resting protectively over his belly. “Of course I want to tell them. Phi… this is the happiest day of my life. I can’t wait to share it with everyone.”

Karn hugged him tight, his lips pressing to Jeng’s temple. “Then tomorrow, we’ll tell them together. Our family deserves to know that we’re about to grow even bigger.”

For the rest of the night, they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, already dreaming of the tiny life they had just created, their pup, their future, the next chapter of their love story.

​

Chapter Text

The morning sun poured through the windows of their home, bathing everything in golden light. Jeng was still in his pajamas, his hand resting instinctively on his stomach as he leaned against Karn, who hadn’t let him go for a second since last night. Karn kissed the crown of his head, voice low and warm.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, “are you ready to tell them?”

Jeng nodded, smiling softly. “Yes, Phi. I want them to know.”

They decided to share the news at breakfast. When they arrived at Karn’s family home, everyone was already gathered around the table, his parents, his siblings, and even little nieces and nephews running about. The chatter filled the room, but Karn cleared his throat, holding Jeng’s hand tightly as he pulled him close.

“I have something to say,” Karn began, his voice steady but brimming with excitement. Everyone looked at him, expectant. He glanced down at Jeng, who gave him a reassuring smile before squeezing his hand.

Karn’s eyes softened as he looked at his family. “Jeng and I… we’re going to have a baby.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then chaos erupted—happy chaos. His mother let out a loud cry of joy, rushing forward to wrap both of them in a hug. His father, usually composed, actually teared up, patting Karn’s back proudly. Siblings gathered around them, voices overlapping as they squealed, cheered, and asked a hundred questions all at once.

“Really?! When did you find out?”
“Have you been to the doctor yet?”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m going to be an aunt!”

Jeng laughed, overwhelmed but so touched by the love surrounding them. For so long, he had felt unwanted by his own parents, but standing here, embraced by Karn’s family, he felt whole. He leaned into Karn, whispering, “They’re so happy, Phi.”

Karn cupped his cheek tenderly, kissing his temple. “Of course they are, baby. You’ve given them the best gift.”

His mother fussed immediately, telling Jeng to sit down, to eat more, to rest properly. His sisters started talking about baby clothes and names, while the children bounced around chanting, “Baby, baby!”

Later that day, when they went to the hospital for confirmation, the staff already knew something was different. Jeng’s scent was changing, and Karn couldn’t hide his glowing pride. He held Jeng close as they entered, and when one of the nurses smiled knowingly, Karn grinned ear to ear.

“We’re expecting,” he announced, his voice full of pride.

The nurses clapped their hands in delight, some even teasing. “Finally! We were wondering when you two would give us good news.”

Another nurse added playfully, “Doctor Karn, I guess now you’ll be the one pacing the halls nervously when it’s delivery time.”

Everyone laughed, including Jeng, whose cheeks flushed with embarrassment and joy. He buried his face into Karn’s shoulder, and Karn only hugged him tighter. “My sweetie’s shy,” he teased affectionately, kissing Jeng’s hair.

“Congratulations to the to-be parents!” the staff chorused, voices echoing warmly through the hallways.

Walking out of the hospital hand in hand, Jeng’s smile never faded. Karn leaned down to kiss him softly. “This is just the beginning, sweetheart. Our pup’s going to be the most loved child in the world.”

And with the way their family and friends were already doting on them, Jeng believed every word.

---

The news of Jeng’s pregnancy spread quickly, and with every passing day, the excitement in their home seemed to grow. Karn, however, was the most excited of them all, excited and cautious. From the very first week, he made it his mission to care for Jeng as if he were the most precious treasure in the world.

Every morning began with Karn in the kitchen, carefully preparing balanced meals. He researched nutrition for omegas during pregnancy, ensuring every plate had the right balance of vitamins, proteins, and leafy greens. Jeng would sometimes whine, pouting at the vegetables piled on his plate.

“Phi… do I really have to eat all this?” Jeng muttered, poking at his salad.

Karn leaned over, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “Yes, baby. For you and our little pup. Just a few more bites, sweetie.”

With Karn feeding him lovingly, Jeng always gave in, even if he rolled his eyes.

But as the weeks passed and the hormones kicked in, Jeng’s moods shifted. Some days he was teary for no reason, clinging to Karn and crying softly against his chest. Other days he grew frustrated and irritable, huffing at the smallest things. Karn never once lost his patience, he only held him tighter.

“It’s okay, baby,” Karn would murmur, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to explain. Phi understands. Just let it out.”

When the nausea hit, Karn was there, rubbing circles on his back and holding his hair away. When Jeng’s lower back ached, Karn gently sat him down on the bed and massaged him, his palms warm and steady. He even bought special oils, warming them in his hands before rubbing them carefully on Jeng’s growing belly, kissing the soft stretch marks with reverence.

“Beautiful,” Karn whispered each time, his voice full of awe. “Every mark, every curve, it’s all perfect, baby.”

By the time the second trimester began, both decided to take maternity and paternity leave from the hospital. Jeng worried at first, not wanting to burden Karn, but his husband simply smiled, cupping his face.

“Sweetheart, nothing matters more than you and our pup right now. Work can wait. I want to be here for every moment.”

Their days became a quiet rhythm of tenderness, slow walks in the garden, evenings spent cuddled on the couch, Karn reading aloud while his hand rubbed soothing circles on Jeng’s belly. On particularly hard nights, when Jeng’s ankles swelled or his back throbbed, Karn knelt at his feet, massaging gently until Jeng melted into the pillows with soft sighs.

“Phi, you spoil me too much,” Jeng whispered once, his eyes heavy with drowsiness.

Karn kissed his knee tenderly. “I’ll never spoil you enough, sweetie. You and our pup deserve everything.”

In those moments, with his belly growing beneath Karn’s loving hands and his heart brimming with warmth, Jeng felt like he was living the life he had always dreamed of, safe, adored, and deeply cherished.

---

​

Chapter Text

It was a quiet evening, soft rain tapping against the windows while Jeng lay curled up on the couch with a book. Karn had just come back from the kitchen with a cup of warm milk when suddenly Jeng gasped, his hand flying to his belly.

“Phi!” Jeng’s voice trembled with surprise.

Karn set the cup down quickly and rushed to him. “What is it, baby? Are you okay?”

Jeng grabbed Karn’s hand and placed it gently over his stomach. For a moment, there was silence,and then a small, distinct flutter pressed against Karn’s palm. Jeng’s eyes filled with tears, his lips trembling into a smile.

"I just felt a kick, did you feel that ” Jeng whispered, his voice breaking with joy.

Karn froze, his breath catching in his throat. Then, slowly, his own tears welled up as he leaned down, pressing his lips to Jeng’s belly. “Hello, little one… this is your daddy. Be gentle with Mama, okay? We’re waiting for you.”

From that day on, Karn made it a ritual. Every night before sleeping, he would lie beside Jeng and talk softly to the bump telling their pup stories about the world, about how much they were loved already, and how excited the whole family was. Sometimes, Jeng would laugh at how serious Karn sounded, but deep down, his heart swelled at the sight of his husband bonding with their baby even before birth.

“Sweetheart,” Karn whispered one night, his forehead pressed against Jeng’s belly, “I promise I’ll protect both of you. You’re my everything.”

---

As the pregnancy progressed, they spent their afternoons shopping for the new baby. Karn was meticulous, making sure the crib was safe, the clothes soft, and the room painted in calming colors. Jeng fussed over tiny baby clothes, holding them up with a dreamy smile.

“Phi, look at this, so tiny…” he said, holding a pair of soft socks no bigger than his palm.

Karn chuckled, pulling him close. “They’ll look even cuter when our pup wears them.”

They filled bags with blankets, bottles, toys, and even a plush bear that Jeng insisted their pup needed. Every shopping trip ended with Karn carrying all the bags, one hand still wrapped protectively around Jeng’s waist.

---

Two days before the due date, it happened. Jeng was in the kitchen, carefully stirring soup, when suddenly his spoon clattered to the floor. His hands gripped the counter as pain rippled through his body.

“Phi!” His voice cracked.

Karn rushed in, instantly noticing the wetness on the floor beneath Jeng. His heart pounded, but his face stayed calm. “Baby, it’s okay. Your water broke. Breathe for me.”

Jeng whimpered, clutching his belly as another contraction hit. Karn quickly helped him into a chair, wiping the sweat from his forehead before grabbing the hospital bag they had prepared weeks ago.

“It’s time, sweetie. I’ve got you,” Karn said firmly, his arm around Jeng’s trembling body.

The ride to the hospital was tense, Jeng panting and gripping Karn’s hand so tightly his knuckles went white. But Karn never let go, whispering soothing words.

“You’re strong, baby. Just hold on a little longer. Phi’s right here. Always.”

By the time they reached the hospital, Karn had taken complete charge, guiding Jeng inside, informing the staff, and staying glued to his side. Despite the chaos around them, Jeng only focused on one thing: Karn’s steady hand and the unwavering love in his eyes.

And as the contractions grew stronger, Jeng knew, no matter how painful this was going to be, he wasn’t afraid. Because Karn was with him, holding him through it all.

---

The delivery room was bright, filled with the soft hum of machines and the hurried but calm voices of doctors and nurses from the OB-GYN department. Jeng lay on the bed, sweat beading his forehead, his breaths shallow and uneven as another contraction tore through him. He whimpered, clutching desperately at Karn’s hand.

“Phi, it hurts…” Jeng cried, his voice cracking.

Karn’s heart clenched painfully, but he stayed close, kissing Jeng’s damp hair, whispering against his ear. “I know, baby, I know. But you’re so strong. I’m right here. Squeeze my hand, let it out I’ve got you.”

Jeng cried out again, his body trembling. Karn pressed his forehead to Jeng’s, whispering love with every breath. He rubbed Jeng’s arm, his thumb brushing soothing circles against his skin, trying to share his strength.

“Alright, Jeng,” the doctor’s calm voice broke through. “It’s time to push. You can do this.”

The nurses moved quickly, guiding and encouraging, their hands steady as they prepared everything. Jeng sobbed softly, fear and pain overwhelming him, but Karn cupped his face firmly.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Just me. You’re not alone, I’m here. You’re doing this for our pup. For us.”

With Karn’s words, Jeng pushed, his cries filling the room. Karn kissed away his tears, his heart breaking at every sound but refusing to let go even for a second. He kept murmuring praises, “So brave, baby. You’re amazing. Almost there.”

And then, after one final, desperate push, the room filled with the sharp, beautiful cry of new life.

Jeng collapsed back onto the bed, tears spilling freely as the doctor announced, “It’s a girl!”

Karn’s chest swelled, his throat tightening as the tiny, wriggling form was lifted and placed gently on Jeng’s bare chest. Their daughter, warm and fragile, skin against skin. Jeng sobbed harder, his arms wrapping instinctively around the baby, holding her as though he’d never let go.

“Phi… she’s perfect,” Jeng whispered through his tears, kissing the top of their daughter’s head.

Karn leaned down, brushing his lips against Jeng’s trembling mouth before kissing their little girl’s soft crown. His voice broke as he whispered, “You did it, sweetheart. You gave us our family. I’m so proud of you.”

For a long, breathless moment, the world faded away. It was just the three of them, Jeng, Karn, and their tiny daughter. Wrapped in warmth, tears, and a love so overwhelming it left them both trembling.

The nurses smiled quietly as they adjusted blankets and checked vitals, but Karn and Jeng barely noticed. They were too lost in the miracle against Jeng’s chest.

Karn stroked Jeng’s hair, his lips brushing his temple. “I love you, baby. Both of you. More than anything.”

And Jeng, still crying but smiling through the tears, whispered back, “We love you too, Phi.”

Their daughter stirred softly, letting out a tiny cry, and both new parents kissed her at the same time, an unspoken vow that she would always, always be surrounded by love.

---

​

Chapter Text

Jeng lay back against the hospital bed, utterly exhausted. His body trembled with weakness after the hours of labor, every muscle aching. But despite the soreness, despite the fatigue weighing on his eyelids, he couldn’t stop smiling. Their baby girl was in his arms, tiny and perfect, making soft noises as she nestled against his chest.

Karn hovered right beside him, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. “You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart. Just rest. I’ll take care of everything.”

When it came time to feed their daughter for the first time, Jeng’s hands shook nervously. He bit his lip, eyes flicking to Karn. “Phi… I don’t know if I can.”

Karn and the nurse guided him gently, adjusting the baby and showing Jeng what to do. And then, as their daughter latched on for the first time, Jeng gasped softly, tears pooling in his eyes again. His hand cradled her tiny head as she fed, a bond forming instantly in the quiet miracle of the moment.

“You’re perfect, baby,” Karn whispered to both of them, kissing Jeng’s damp hair while watching with awe. “Both of you.”

When Jeng finished, his strength gave out completely. His body was too weak to move, but he didn’t need to. Karn slipped the baby into his arms for just a moment before carefully taking over. He changed the tiny nappy with steady hands, burped her gently against his shoulder, and rocked her until she dozed.

“You just sleep, sweetie,” Karn murmured, tucking the blankets around Jeng. “I’ll handle everything. She and I will be just fine while you rest.”

And for the rest of that day, Karn did exactly that. He cared for their newborn like he was born for it, every touch careful, every whisper soft. Jeng drifted in and out of sleep, comforted by the sight of Karn holding their daughter with such devotion.

---

The next day, the room filled with warmth and joy as family arrived. Karn’s parents were the first to step in, tears already welling in their eyes. His mother gasped when she saw the baby in Karn’s arms, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Oh, look at her,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she hurried forward. “Our little angel.”

Jeng smiled weakly from the bed as Karn carefully placed the baby in her grandmother’s arms. She began to cry, pressing her cheek against the baby’s soft head. Karn’s father’s eyes glistened as he leaned in to touch the tiny hand, which instinctively wrapped around his finger.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Just like her parents.”

One by one, the family members surrounded them, doting over Jeng as much as the baby. His sisters fussed over his comfort, making sure he had water, adjusting his pillows, whispering that he was amazing for everything he had gone through. His brothers teased Karn lightly about looking like a “natural papa,” but they all wiped their eyes when holding the tiny bundle.

Laughter, tears, and soft coos filled the hospital room, turning it into a bubble of joy. Karn stayed close to Jeng the entire time, holding his hand, brushing his cheek, making sure he never felt alone.

And as the baby was passed lovingly from arm to arm, everyone crying and smiling over her, Jeng leaned into Karn’s side and whispered, “This… this is happiness, Phi.”

Karn kissed his temple, his arm tightening around him. “It’s only the beginning, baby. Just the beginning.”

---

The next day, peace in the hospital room was shattered. Jeng had just finished feeding their daughter and was resting against Karn’s shoulder, when the door suddenly burst open. His parents stormed in, faces twisted with cold determination.

Jeng stiffened immediately, his arms tightening protectively around the baby. Karn stood up instantly, stepping in front of them.

“What are you doing here?” Karn’s voice was low, warning, his entire body radiating fury.

Jeng’s mother crossed her arms, her eyes raking over the tiny bundle in Jeng’s arms. “We came for what belongs to us,” she said coldly. “That baby is part of our family too. You can’t keep her from us.”

Jeng’s father nodded, his expression just as harsh. “We have rights as grandparents. You don’t get to shut us out.”

Jeng’s breath caught in his throat. His heart hammered painfully, but he shook his head firmly. “No. You have no place here. You lost that right the moment you abandoned me.”

But his mother only scoffed. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s not about you anymore. That baby, she should be raised properly. Your cousin has been struggling for years to have a child. Give the baby to her. It would be the right thing to do.”

The words hit like knives. Jeng’s arms instinctively clutched his daughter closer, his voice breaking with disbelief. “You… you want me to give away my baby?!”

At that, the atmosphere in the room snapped. Karn’s family, who had been quietly giving Jeng space, surged forward. His mother’s face turned red with rage. “How dare you come here, after everything, and demand such cruelty?” she spat.

Karn’s hands curled into fists, his eyes blazing as he stepped closer. “Listen carefully,” he growled, his voice like thunder. “You will never lay a finger on my daughter. You will never speak to Jeng like that again. If you think you have any claim here, you’re delusional.”

His brothers joined in, physically blocking the couple from moving closer to the bed. “You heard him. Get out.”

Jeng’s father started to argue, but Karn’s father cut him off sharply. “Enough! You’re not welcome. You think you can just waltz in and tear this family apart? Over our dead bodies. Now leave before we have security throw you out.”

For a moment, the room crackled with tension. Jeng’s mother sneered, muttering under her breath, but when she saw the united wall of Karn’s family glaring at her with absolute fury, she finally turned on her heel.

“This isn’t over,” she hissed.

“Yes, it is,” Karn snapped. “You’re finished. Stay away from us.”

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the room trembling with leftover anger. Jeng broke down, tears streaming down his face as he buried himself into Karn’s chest. “How could they… Phi, how could they say that? She’s our baby…”

Karn wrapped both arms around him and their daughter, holding them tightly. “Shh, baby. They’ll never take her from us. I won’t let them. I swear it.”

His mother placed a comforting hand on Jeng’s shoulder. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. They showed their true colors today, and now we know what we’re dealing with. We’ll make sure they can never hurt you again.”

Karn nodded firmly, his jaw set. “We’ll get a restraining order. Legally, they won’t be able to come near us, or our daughter. From now on, this family is safe.”

The room softened as everyone drew closer, creating a protective circle around Jeng and the baby. And though his hands still trembled, Jeng found comfort in the strength surrounding him.

For the first time since their daughter’s birth, he felt certain: no matter what darkness came from his past, Karn and his family would shield him and their child completely.

---

​

Chapter Text

The first few weeks at home passed in a blissful blur. The house, once echoing with quiet routine, now pulsed with the tiny sounds of their newborn, soft whimpers, sleepy sighs, and sudden bursts of crying that sent both Jeng and Karn scrambling with practiced teamwork. Their baby girl thrived in the warmth of their care, her cheeks round and rosy, her tiny fists curling around their fingers.

Jeng was healing well, his energy slowly returning. With Karn’s unwavering support, the transition into parenthood felt safe and full of love. Karn handled late-night changes, soothed the baby when she was fussy, and insisted that Jeng focus on resting and bonding. Jeng felt cherished, adored, but one quiet afternoon, when the baby was finally asleep in her crib, a flicker of insecurity snuck in.

He stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom, lifting his shirt carefully. His eyes traced over the silvery-red stretch marks across his stomach, reminders of the months he had carried their daughter. He bit his lip, fingers ghosting over them. A heavy knot formed in his chest.

He didn’t hear Karn walk in until he felt strong arms wrap around his waist. Karn pressed his chin against Jeng’s shoulder, peering at him through the reflection. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

Jeng blinked rapidly, trying to hide the tears threatening to spill. “Phi… I was just looking,” he whispered, his voice tight. “These marks… they weren’t there before. I look different now. Not like before we got married. I… I don’t feel beautiful anymore.”

The words hurt Karn’s heart. He turned Jeng gently in his arms, lifting his chin so their eyes met. “Baby,” he murmured, shaking his head, “don’t you ever say that.”

Before Jeng could protest, Karn swept him up into his arms with ease, making him yelp softly. “Phi-”

Karn carried him to the bed, laying him down carefully before lowering himself beside him. He tugged Jeng’s shirt up, baring his tummy, and leaned down without hesitation. Slowly, reverently, Karn pressed kisses to every mark. “These,” he whispered between kisses, “are proof of your strength. Of the life you carried for us. Proof that you gave me the greatest gift I’ll ever have. You are more beautiful now than ever before.”

Jeng trembled, his tears spilling as he reached for Karn’s hair. “But… they make me feel…”

Karn silenced him with another kiss against the tender skin. “They make you perfect, sweetheart. You gave everything for our daughter. And I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love every single part of you.”

Jeng’s breath hitched, the heaviness in his chest slowly replaced with warmth. He melted into Karn’s touch, overwhelmed by the depth of his devotion. Karn finally pulled him into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“You’re strong, you’re beautiful, and you’re mine,” Karn whispered fiercely. “And nothing, not scars, not marks, not anything, will ever change that.”

Jeng buried his face into Karn’s neck, his tears now of relief. “I love you, Phi…”

“I love you more, baby,” Karn answered without hesitation, holding him as if he would never let go.

And as their daughter stirred softly in the crib across the room, Jeng realized something, these marks weren’t flaws. They were symbols of love, of family, and of the future they would continue to build together.

---

Epilogue –

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting soft golden stripes across the bedroom. Karn stirred beside Jeng, his arm draped protectively over him and their daughter sleeping peacefully between them. The house was quiet now, not in the stillness of absence, but in the comfortable hum of a family at ease.

Jeng yawned, stretching lazily against Karn’s chest. His hands brushed against the soft, faded stretch marks that once made him insecure. Now, every mark felt like a medal, a symbol of the journey they had endured together, of the life they had built. Karn’s fingers found his, entwining effortlessly.

“Good morning, baby,” Karn murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Jeng’s head.

“Good morning, Phi,” Jeng replied, voice sleepy but full of warmth. Their daughter stirred, opening one tiny eye and letting out a small yawn, reaching her hands toward them both. Karn chuckled, gathering her into his arms first, then carefully handing her to Jeng.

“You’ve got her now,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from Jeng’s face. “She’s yours to love every bit as much as I do.”

Jeng smiled, feeling a swell of pride and tenderness. Holding their daughter close, he realized how far they had come, from days of anxiety and fear, from the shadows of his parents’ cruelty, from the trauma he had once carried alone. Every step had led to this room, this quiet morning, this family wrapped in love.

Later, in the garden, the three of them played with the family dog, who barked joyfully and tugged at their daughter’s tiny hands. Laughter rang through the yard, mingling with the scent of blooming flowers. Karn lifted their daughter high into the air, spinning her around, and she squealed in delight, giggles spilling freely. Jeng clapped and laughed, his heart light.

When the evening came, they sat on the couch together, the baby nestled between them, Karn’s arms around both. He kissed Jeng’s temple, murmuring, “We did it, sweetheart. We made it through everything. This is ours. Always.”

Jeng leaned into him, resting his head against Karn’s chest. “I know, Phi. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Their daughter stirred again, tiny fingers reaching for Jeng’s face. He laughed softly, brushing her hair back and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Karn joined, and soon the three of them were wrapped in a warm embrace, the house filled with quiet contentment.

Years would pass. Their daughter would grow, their love would deepen, and challenges would inevitably arise. But Karn and Jeng knew this truth above all else: they were a family bound by choice, trust, and unwavering devotion. They had survived the darkest moments and come out stronger, and now, nothing could touch the sanctuary they had created together.

Karn pressed his lips to Jeng’s forehead one last time that night, whispering, “I love you, baby. More than words. More than life.”

“I love you too, Phi,” Jeng whispered back.

And with that, the three of them, their little family, fell asleep in perfect harmony, safe, loved, and home.

The end.