Chapter Text
What if I've forgotten the most important thing? What if somewhere inside me there is a dark limbo where all the the truly important memories are heaped and slowly turning into mud?
― Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
Changbin hands the end of the catchpole to his omega, and Chan stares. He could pull away from the tiny thing with a fraction of his strength. He doesn't want to hurt them, but it's a very strange gesture of trust, when Chan is so clearly an unpredictable animal.
Felix doesn't yank on it, either. He holds it in both hands, but he's a gentle guide, careful not to strangle Chan or shove him into walls while guiding him through the door to the main reception.
"Come here, please, Chan." Changbin says from where he's filling out paperwork at the desk. Wary, Chan circles around Felix to obey, hands curled into fists. He may be muzzled, but he can still hit hard if Changbin wants to hurt him-
"I'm just going to touch your hair. No need to look so scared." Changbin says. He's still so calm, so unaroused, even when Chan backs up and growls.
"N-n-no."
"Chan, beautiful. I will not hurt you. I refuse to. But you're mine, and I want to be able to take care of you, and I can't do that if you won't let me lay a finger on you."
He sounds so reasonable. Chan hates him for it, how he makes it sound like Chan is going to give in when he sees reason. He stays right where he is, grumbling, until unexpectedly Felix tugs on the catchpole and Chan has to stumble forward, eyes wide with surprise. He berates himself for being so stupid as to let Felix stay in his blind spot- they aren't allies, Changbin owns him, too.
But the distance between Chan and Changbin is only a few inches now, Chan practically in his lap, and he raises a hand slowly. Chan flinches from it, struggling against the cursed loop around his throat, but Felix's grip is unexpectedly iron.
Changbin's hand lands on top of Chan's messy curls and strokes them. Once, twice, three times. Then the hand goes away, and he goes back on to flipping pages, signing each one. "Do you like having long hair?" he asks absently. "It looks a little choppy, but we can even it out."
Chan is thoroughly unnerved. Thankfully Felix lets him back away, looking between them warily. If he's too aggressive, the shelter workers might not let him leave, but this alpha... he must be lying, there must be a trick somewhere. There's no doubt in Chan's mind that he's thinking with his dick, like any other alpha who has a house full of omegas. Maybe he gets off on pretending that they actually want him, but Chan won't ever want him, so he'll dispose of Chan one way or another soon enough.
He wonders what would happen if he killed Changbin in his own home. If he could convince the other omegas to help him pretend that nothing was wrong, and they could live there by themselves. It's a thought.
He doesn't answer the question. His hair is just hair. Alphas seem to always have a preference about what to do with it, so surely that'll come up later. Felix's hair is dyed blond and half up in braids; it's elaborate enough that he's a little wary of how the alpha will get him to sit still long enough for it.
Changbin looks up at Chan again when he doesn't speak. His eyes feel like they see right through Chan to his black, dead heart, his apathy, his rage. It's unnerving.
"We'll talk about it at home, once you've earned the muzzle off." Changbin nods decisively, standing and pushing the papers to the other side of the desk. "For now, are you going to behave if I put you on a leash instead of having to lug that thing around?"
Chan stares at Changbin, startled, then glances at the guard, who has their hand on their stun baton. He nods quickly, biting at his lip as Changbin digs in his bag for a slim rope leash.
~
“No, Chan. Stay.”
Chan isn’t a fucking dog; he isn’t going to sit and stay. Changbin can’t make him. Chan sneers as turns away, going for the door to the bedroom he's been told is his-
A firm hand lands on Chan’s shoulder, a leash clicks onto the D-ring on the back of the stupid harness the pack beta gave him to wear, and Changbin yanks him back into his arms. On instinct, Chan whirls and claws at the threat, but Changbin catches his wrists before he can connect. Enraged, adrenaline pumping, Chan lets out a full-throated snarl and snaps his jaws behind the bars of the fucking muzzle.
Changbin, unfazed, just stares at him. He holds Chan close, close enough that he can feel the way Changbin’s breathing is still smooth and even, not even a sign that he might be afraid of Chan.
Not that he needs to be, not with Chan pinned like this. Chan could kick, could throw his head back to crack their skulls together, but… Changbin isn’t hurting him. He’s being restrained- Changbin won’t let him get away- but somehow, he’s holding Chan just tight enough to keep him still but not dig painfully into the new pink scars on his chest. His wrists are pressed together, but Changbin is holding them far enough away that it’s awkward to try and escape without twisting his arms unnaturally above or behind him.
It’s deeply unnerving. Chan still squirms as much as he can without causing any pain himself, just to make his point that he doesn’t want to be here, but it’s not much.
"Calm?" Changbin says. Chan scowls at him.
"Good," is all Changbin says in response. "Now, I was trying to tell you- you're my omega now, and I treat my omegas well. If you tell me the truth when someone hurts you, I will make sure they pay for it. That includes being kind to yourself- you have needs, and one of the rules is that you make sure you get what you need, and ask for help if you can't do something yourself. Do you understand?"
Thoroughly weirded out, Chan nods.
"Words, Chan-ah."
"I underst-tand," Chan mumbles. Only then does Changbin let him go, and Chan immediately takes a few steps away, turning to watch with sharp eyes as Changbin lets go of the leash.
"Good. Get some rest. I'll bring you something to eat later. You're not a prisoner, but you look exhausted." Changbin's eyes... soften? Chan is still unsure, frozen, and he flinches but can't quite make himself step away from the hand that caresses his cheek.
And then Changbin just... leaves. Just like that.
Chan turns back around to look at the room he's been left. It's... nice. Big bed, airy, his Wolfie peeking out of his bag from the shelter sitting against the pillows.
Chan has no idea what to do with any of this. He's just going to have to figure it out.