Chapter Text
Jeongin likes to run.
It’s been a long time since he was running for his life, running for freedom, but he never quite kicked his love for the adrenaline rushing through his veins and the fresh air in his lungs. Running felt like a kind of freedom, and even after he found a home, a place to stay, his energy levels always fluctuated and it helped when he could run until his lungs burned and his legs gave out beneath him; in either fox or human form, he didn’t mind which. He just likes to run.
He met Chan for the first time when he was running, a desperate sprint for his own life rather than something for enjoyment. Shifters like himself weren’t widely seen as human, most regarded as nothing more than animals, and Jeongin had been foolish enough to try and settle into a human town. It worked, until it didn’t; moving in at eighteen and running away just after turning twenty-one. He’d been woken by pounding on his door, shouting and slurs and all sorts of threats coming through the wood. Jeongin had thrown open his bedroom window, jumped through, and started to run.
The people of the town expected it, though. Jeongin shifted to his fox skin to better avoid detection, but even then, it took hours before he was sure he lost them. Even then, he didn’t stop running. He couldn’t. Even as he shifted back to being human for a longer stride when he was sure he lost them, as his lungs ached and his legs screamed from overexertion, Jeongin didn’t stop running.
His senses blurred around him, nothing but the rush of the wind and the passing trees, paying little mind to his path beyond getting far, far away from a place he’d called home for almost three years. It hurt to leave behind a little piece of the world he’d carved for himself, but he had no choice if he valued his life. So, Jeongin ran. He ran, he didn’t think, and as the sun sank low in the sky, he accidentally stumbled into shifter territory and almost ran over a wolf.
Not just a wolf. Jeongin knew that much, as he skidded to the side to try and avoid a painful collision between his shins and the wolf’s side, almost falling but in a moment a hand was catching his upper arm to steady him. Jeongin looked up, met the eyes of a now-humanoid wolf shifter, and the racing of his heart was no longer just from fear or adrenaline.
Chan, too kind for his own good, took Jeongin in with minimal questioning when he saw the small injuries littering the fox shifter’s body and the shine of tears in his eyes. And from there, Jeongin’s life changed in a blink.
The pack is small, seven members that Jeongin meets all at once when Chan leads him to a small cabin in the middle of the forest. A witch, three more wolves, a fae, and a dryad. An odd combination, but Jeongin finds them more welcoming than he’d expected. They warm up to him quicker than he thought they would, bringing him in and helping him recover from his wild sprint away from what was once his home.
Jeongin settles in quickly, days passing into weeks as he learns the names of each of the others and discovering that he’s the youngest of the group. Pack, Chan calls it, to the agreement of the other wolves whose names Jeongin has come to know are Changbin, Jisung, and Seungmin. Half the time, the resident witch — Minho — will argue back with the word coven, or the dryad Hyunjin will advocate for circle with the enthusiastic agreement of the fae, Felix. They’re usually outnumbered and don’t take the silly arguments seriously, but Jeongin likes to watch it unfold and join whichever side he’s feeling that particular day to contribute to the chaos, because he doesn’t have his own word to add.
The pack is far from quiet, loud and chaotic, and Jeongin finds himself drawn into the fray. He still shies away from most touch, even as he adjusts to living with them all, but the others take it in stride and don’t push him too hard. And even as he starts to call the little cabin home, as the others in the pack become family, Jeongin’s energy remains high and his love for running doesn’t fade away.
The first time the chase happens, Jeongin doesn’t have any sort of ulterior master plan behind it. He’s bored, trying to get out the energy buzzing in his veins by jumping around the clearing around the pack house in his fox form, launching himself at leaves and sticks and anything that moves in the breeze — including his own tail, once or twice, which brings an amused laugh from whoever happens to be on the porch or passing by at the time. He’s still buzzy with energy when Chan makes an appearance, the other in his wolf skin, relaxing on the porch as he watches Jeongin jump and weave and pounce.
Jeongin glances at him, then away again. He’s only lived with the pack for a handful of weeks by this point, and Chan still intimidates him a bit. The oldest of the group, the leader, the one who saved him in the depths of woods he didn’t really know; of course Jeongin is a little bit scared of him on principle. He’s grateful, of course, but… well.
Chan is just watching as Jeongin moves. His stare feels heavy on Jeongin’s back, and finally the fox turns and stops his movement, locking eyes with Chan. They stare each other down for a few long, quiet moments, before Jeongin’s veins buzz with restless energy again and — doesn’t running sound fun? A harmless chase? A game of tag through the woods that have become Jeongin’s sanctuary.
He lowers himself slightly, mimicking the play stances of the wolves when they jump at each other. He’s seen Changbin and Jisung do this, sometimes able to drag Seungmin into it, tumbling over each other and occasionally Chan. Goading each other into high energy chases and games. Jeongin’s tail brushes against the fallen leaves around him, and Chan blinks a few times as if trying to understand what Jeongin is doing.
Jeongin waits. Chan doesn’t move. Impatient, Jeongin barks, high-pitched yips leaving him as he jumps forwards then backwards and spins in a circle before backing up a few more paces. Chase me, his body language screams, and finally Chan seems to understand, getting to his feet and lunging off the porch. Jeongin yelps, the sound echoing as he takes off like a shot through the woods, Chan not far behind, their footsteps mingling with the sounds of the winds and the birds and the rushing stream.
Adrenaline pumps through Jeongin’s veins, excitement tingling through his body as he jumps and weaves and makes his way through the tangled underbrush of the woods. Chan never falls far behind, right behind him, and Jeongin runs and runs and runs but he’s not afraid.
He runs, and Chan chases him, and the chase ends back at the house when Jeongin tumbles through the front door and startles Minho half to death with the sound. The witch lays a hand over his chest and lifts an eyebrow at a breathless, fox form Jeongin, who grins with all his teeth and his tongue lolling out as Chan crashes through the door not even half a minute later, just as winded and animalistic.
“Ah.” Minho sighs, turning back to his work. “Dogs.”
Both Jeongin and Chan make offended noises that the witch ignores with ease, and Jeongin sinks into a resting position at Chan’s side, breathing heavy after the chase, energy worn down but adrenaline still pumping through his veins. The run was fun, harmless fun, and Jeongin wants to do it again – so he does. And as the days pass, then weeks, Jeongin learns more about the people he lives with and comes to love as family, and in turn he learns more about Chan. About wolves and their rituals.
Jisung is the one who tells him about an old, old wolf tradition called mating runs. The second youngest of the wolves is a chatterbox on the best days, so he runs his mouth as Jeongin listens and absorbs the information. Jisung rambles about how mating runs are seen as outdated practices by most wolves, about how now they have more freedom to choose who they mate with and how they approach it. The runs would’ve been quarterly throughout the year, a grand chase with the prize being mating the wolf that runs away if they’re caught. Jisung wrinkles his nose at the concept, claiming that he prefers more modern rituals, that if he was to mate anyone he’d want them to choose him, not be forcibly caught by him.
(His gaze keeps drifting towards Felix as he says it, the fae none the wiser and absorbed in the magic book between his hands. Jeongin makes note of this observation to tease Jisung with it later.)
Jeongin gets it. However, Jeongin’s mind is also spinning, reminding him of the dozens of times he’s run from Chan and the oldest wolf has chased after him. An imitation of what Jisung tells him about; a long abandoned tradition reignited by Jeongin’s paws against the forest floor, by Chan never far behind him. He considers the concept, considers what he wants to happen when he inevitably gets caught.
And, well. He’s not blind. Chan is attractive, a fact that Jeongin has always sort of noticed, even when they first met and he was half out of his own mind in terror. But on top of that, Chan is kind and respectful and keeps a watchful eye on his people, making sure that they’re happy and well-fed and content. Chan dotes on Jeongin a little, being the most recent rescue and the youngest of the pack, but Jeongin thinks and thinks and finds himself realizing that he wouldn’t mind if Chan doted on him in a different way. In a boyfriend kind of way. In a mates kind of way, with a pretty bite decorating Jeongin’s neck. He thinks he’d like it a lot, actually. That spark that ignited when Chan first found him has never really gone out, the flames fanned into something stronger.
The chase has already become their thing. Jeongin just finally knows what he wants when Chan catches him. And he could make it easy, could let himself be caught, but…
Where’s the fun in that? If Chan is going to claim him, to mate him, then Jeongin wants him to work for it. To prove that Chan wants it, not to prove that Jeongin does. He’d rather the challenge than something easy; he lives to make the lives of his packmates a little more difficult, and this is no exception. And so, Jeongin runs, and he keeps running, and Chan keeps chasing.
Jeongin chooses a path and makes it his own, crashing through the underbrush of the woods, hopping over streams and flat rocks and other obstacles, weaving and learning his way and his unpredictability while learning means that Chan can never match his pace, can’t quite predict him fast enough to catch him, and Jeongin always wins as he loops back to the house and waits, smug, on the porch for Chan to crash back into the clearing of the house.
Jeongin wins. Chan doesn’t seem upset about it, and Jeongin watches him retreat into the house with narrowed eyes when Minho shouts for him from the kitchen, something about needing a half-competent assistant in the kitchen while Felix isn’t available. Jeongin tilts his head as the door shuts, goes back over the route he chose in his head, and makes a better plan.
Again.
Through the tunnels of an abandoned fox den, turn right instead of left, jump over a small creek, watch from a hidden ledge on a large rock as Chan loses his trail and spends minutes circling aimlessly. When he gets tired of watching Chan grow steadily more bewildered, he hops down from his ledge and makes a dead sprint back to the house, Chan following just half a minute too late to catch him before he’s sitting on the front porch. Another victory for Jeongin; another night spent scheming a new route.
Again.
Sharp left through some foliage, through a clearing with a faerie ring that Jeongin steers clear of, jump from fallen log to bent branch and lay down in the treetops; watch as Chan can’t figure out where he is or, alternatively, fail at following the same pathway into the branches. Jeongin is agile and steady on his feet as he jumps between branches, barking laughter as Chan stares up at him from the forest floor, a mix of fondness and exasperation. Jeongin won the moment his paws hit the branches, and he knows it.
Again.
Circle the abandoned shack in a clearing, trample over a set of overgrown vines, burrow into a crevice on a cliff side and sit pretty while Chan can’t find a way to follow. There’s tunnels and burrows that lead back towards the house, and Jeongin secures another victory as Chan makes his way home a solid five minutes after Jeongin has settled down on the porch to wait.
Jeongin takes the same general path when he first starts running, deviating through various routes. Never the same pursuit twice, never the same tricks utilized too close together in time. He learns shortcuts and finds abandoned burrows and weaves through the underbrush with an expertise that Chan can’t quite replicate with his larger form. The path is upgraded the more that Jeongin runs, the more that Chan chases after him. Adapting as they both learn the woods and each other.
Their little game isn’t a well-kept secret within the pack. Jeongin isn’t above bragging about his success, nor is Chan above lamenting about his losses to anyone who lends them half an ear after they come back from a run. Jisung gives Jeongin a searching look the first time Chan mentions the chases on his own, lifting an eyebrow before jumping into making fun of Chan’s age and creaking bones. All it leads to is Chan lightly smacking him on the head and the loud laughter of the other nearby pack members.
Still, Jisung doesn’t press, even if Jeongin catches him whispering with Felix and Hyunjin and Seungmin later that day, the same-age members of the pack definitely discussing what’s going on with Jeongin and Chan. Jeongin pretends not to notice their glances in his direction, because they’re not saying anything to him. They just want to gossip, to make bets on how it’ll all end. Jeongin doesn’t mind that, as long as they don’t confront him or try to interfere.
In the end, it’s Minho who actually says something, on an evening when he’s roped Jeongin into helping out in the kitchen, handing the fox shifter a knife and telling him to cut vegetables for that night’s dinner. Jeongin complies, knowing better than to try and say no to Minho, even if he aches a little from pushing himself when running earlier in the day. He doesn’t want to get hexed by a temperamental witch.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Minho asks as he washes the rice he’s preparing for the evening, making Jeongin pause where he’s chopping up the vegetables as instructed. He gives Minho an odd look, but the other isn’t even looking at him.
“I’ve helped you in the kitchen a thousand times, hyung,” Jeongin points out before resuming his task, lifting the chopping board briefly to dump some of the finished vegetables into a bowl.
“Not what I meant,” Minho says, wiping his hands on a towel that hangs on the handle of the stove. His arms cross as he leans back against the counter, watching Jeongin with a sharp eye. “I meant with the running. Chan’s a wolf, you know. A chase means something to his kind, I’m pretty sure Jisungie has told you this.”
“Oh, that.” Jeongin rolls his eyes, a smile flickering across his face as he neatly slices a cucumber in half before lining it up to cut into smaller wedges. “I know. I don’t think hyung is aware of that yet.”
A brief silence falls over the kitchen, the only sound being Jeongin’s knife hitting the cutting board in a repetitive manner.
“You’re aware that you’re constantly goading Chan into a mimicry of old wolf mating runs?” Minho sounds almost baffled at the concept. Jeongin resists the urge to laugh, or he knows he’d be delegated a dozen more tasks in the kitchen.
“He’s the one who can never catch me,” Jeongin points out, finally looking over at Minho and away from his task. The other has an eyebrow raised, staring at Jeongin like he’s halfway lost his mind, but after a moment, Minho just sighs and turns towards the cuts of meat he’s meant to be cooking.
“Goddess help you when he does,” Minho mutters, and Jeongin can’t stop his laugh this time. The whole point of the running is that he wants Chan to catch him. It’s not his fault that the wolf hasn’t figured out a way around his tricks yet, even if he takes the same general pathways over and over and has started defaulting to certain tricks. Jeongin knows that one day his success will run out, and he’s very much looking forward to it.
“I doubt She’d want to watch that,” Jeongin says between giggles, and doesn’t even protest when Minho turns and picks up a chunk of carrot to chuck right at his head, smacking right against his temple. It’s deserved, accompanied by a mildly disgusted look on Minho’s face, and Jeongin isn’t surprised when Minho starts ordering him to do more things to help with that night’s dinner. He simply does as he’s told, a comfortable quiet falling over the kitchen again.
“You’re good for him,” Minho says into the silence. Jeongin hazards a glance up towards him, notices the red of Minho’s ears. The witch isn’t one for blatant kindness, always pursuing a more roundabout way of expressing himself, words never his main choice. The blush of his ears shows that he’s a bit out of his depth with the kindness he offers. “He’s been a lot more… happy with you around.”
Jeongin isn’t sure how to respond, but he tucks the approval close to his heart, smiles at Minho when their eyes meet. Minho makes a face and looks away.
“You stopped chopping the potatoes, get back to it,” the witch orders, and Jeongin picks up the knife obediently. Some weight of worry has lifted from his shoulders, assuaged by Minho’s approval, and he can’t kill the smile on his face for the rest of the evening, even when Seungmin teases him for it, poking and prodding to figure out why Jeongin seems so happy. Jeongin simply shifts into fox form and bites at his fingers, which gets him a quick reprimand from Chan, but the wolf holds such a fond look that it offsets any sternness he could’ve tried to display.
There’s a restless feeling deep in Jeongin’s bones when he gets up the next morning, the familiar urge to run through the woods. An ache for the adrenaline that he’s come to adore almost as much as he adores Chan. The wolf is half asleep at the dining room table when Jeongin ventures out of his room, the pack leader mumbling a morning greeting to Jeongin when he sits down. Minho and Felix are already at work in the kitchen, soft conversation and light laughter.
Jeongin folds his arms against the table and leans his head against them, eyes half-lidded as he stares at Chan. The wolf doesn’t even seem to notice, allowing Jeongin plenty of time to admire him in the early morning light that streams through the windows. Golden light against his skin, making him look almost ethereal, otherworldly. Jeongin’s fingers twitch, the urge to shift and run weighing heavy on his shoulders.
Minho setting out dishes of food distracts him for a while, even if his mind is far away while he eats. Spinning through the trees, down the paths, mentally mapping a route for the day. It’s never hard to convince Chan to chase, to run; Jeongin is an expert at it by now. Still, he waits until breakfast is over and the dishes are washed, the whole pack awake and moving around. Only when the sun reaches its peak in the sky does Jeongin slip into his fox skin and sit on the front porch, waiting. It never takes long for Chan to check on him, the older man’s instincts both a blessing and a curse. A curse when Jeongin wants to be alone; a blessing at times like this, when he wants to goad Chan into chasing him.
Jeongin blinks up at Chan when he pushes the door open, when he sits down besides the fox shifter. Jeongin gives him a moment, two, before hopping off the porch and barking at the wolf. Chan’s face twists into a fond sort of amusement, but he doesn’t shift. Jeongin rolls his eyes and barks again, hopping back and forth on his feet. Finally, Chan sighs and changes forms; Jeongin is off like a shot before the wolf’s transformation is even fully finished.
The air feels more charged today, as if the woods are holding their breath as Jeongin races through the underbrush. His ears twitch, able to catch the sound of Chan’s footsteps not far behind him. He’s gaining ground too quickly for Jeongin’s liking, so the fox takes a sharp turn and leaps over a small stream that runs through the woods, landing easily on the other side. He knows Chan will clear that jump with ease, but he’s already heading towards the bushes he know he can fit through but Chan can’t.
Thorns brush against Jeongin’s fur, harmless due to his size being just right to squeeze beneath them, and once he’s through to the other side of the tangled brambles, he keeps running. Chan’s footsteps falter behind him, the wolf pacing the length of the bushes to try and find a way around them, and Jeongin relishes in the obstacle as he keeps running.
Leaves crunch beneath his paws as he weaves through the woods, leaving the bushes far behind. He loses track of time as he runs, the burn in his lungs and the ache of his legs not hindering him thanks to the adrenaline crashing through his veins. Jeongin takes a moment to pause in a clearing, flick his ears left and right to listen for sounds, debating which route to take; and a moment of distraction is apparently all that’s needed for him to finally lose.
A blur of fur erupts from a group of nearby bushes, solid weight slamming against Jeongin’s side. The fox shifter yelps, startled out of his fox form and back into his humanoid form, landing heavily on his back, hands and elbows scraping against the forest floor. For a moment, a massive wolf towers over him, and then in a blink the wolf shifts into a familiar face, grin bright and triumphant. Jeongin makes as if to move, but Chan knocks his arms out from beneath him, sending him sprawling again with his arms pushed up in a mockery of a surrendering gesture. The wolf sets one hand against Jeongin’s chest, keeping him down.
“Got you.” Chan’s voice is more of a low growl, coming deep from his chest, and Jeongin grins, flexing his fingers where his hands are sprawled above his head. Chan all but towers over him, knees on either side of Jeongin’s thighs, the hand not keeping Jeongin pinned down set next to the fox shifter’s head.
“Took you long enough,” Jeongin replies, grin widening at the flicker of confusion that crosses Chan’s face through the thrill of victory. He’s not wholly surprised that Chan didn’t clock what Jeongin was doing, exactly, with constantly baiting him into a chase. Foxes and wolves have their differences, and Jeongin has his own quirks. It’s not surprising that Chan didn’t make the connection between Jeongin’s running and old, long-dead wolf traditions that spoke of competitive runs, when they’d chase after the person they wanted to mate through the woods. It’s an ancient practice — but he’s always liked to run. And it always seemed like Chan enjoyed the hunt.
“You wanted me to catch you?” Chan asks, befuddled, as if he doesn’t understand why Jeongin would want to be caught. It takes away some of the intimidation factor, sharp canines and low growls washed away by the puppy-like tilt of Chan’s head.
“Duh.” Jeongin rolls his eyes, his own sharp canine teeth flashing as he smirks. “You’re the wolf between us, hyung. Shouldn’t you recognize old traditions?”
Chan blinks rapidly as he processes the question, eyebrows furrowing, pieces clicking together. A sort of clarity lights up his eyes, and then the momentary lapse of calm is gone as he leans closer, fangs flashing and nipping against the skin of Jeongin’s neck.
“Maybe you forgot,” Jeongin continues, even as Chan makes it harder and harder for him to draw in a steady breath, trembling as the wolf litters his skin with fleeting kisses and sharp fangs. So close to what he’s been craving, and yet so far away. “Old age getting to you and all. I thought you’d have caught me like, last month.”
“Watch your mouth,” Chan warns, a low rumble in his chest. Jeongin shivers, grin not faltering for a moment. He can tell that Chan is rapidly losing his patience and his restraint, with the way his hand presses down more firmly against Jeongin’s chest.
“Just saying,” Jeongin replies, meeting Chan’s eyes as the wolf lifts his head to level a sharp stare at him. “But I guess you won. Are you taking what’s yours or not?”
Chan pauses, just for a moment. Eyes searching Jeongin’s face for any traces of malice, any sign that Jeongin doesn’t actually mean what he’s saying. Jeongin knows that he won’t find any, staring back openly. Then, very slowly, he tilts his head towards the side, bearing more of his neck for Chan to see. One of the most vulnerable positions that shifters like them can take, to bare their neck to another; to make clear where their jugular vein is, to trust that the person above them won’t rip their throat out. Jeongin knows that Chan would never hurt him, so submitting like this is an easy response to give.
“Are you saying you’re mine?” Chan asks, voice barely above a whisper, the words catching with the breeze in the woods and the distant murmur of the stream Jeongin jumped over when running. Jeongin scoffs, eyes rolling once again, uncaring of the disrespect. Is Chan really that dense?
“I have been since the first time you ran after me,” Jeongin says, as if it should be obvious. He’d only barely gotten away, Chan never far behind, and after that he’d only gotten better at running and dodging. And now, months and years later, Jeongin finally has what he wants before him.
“You just kind of sucked at catching me.”
“Watch your mouth, pup,” Chan warns, his tone sending a shiver down Jeongin’s spine. It’s heavy, riddled with intent, Chan staring down like he wants to eat Jeongin alive. The fox shifter wants to let him; wants Chan to take what’s his, what both of them want, desperation clouding the air between them and making Jeongin’s eyes go hazy with unfiltered desire.
“What if I don’t want to?” Jeongin challenges, lifting his chin up. It’s a useless attempt, with how firmly pinned down he is, but Jeongin has never been one to be an easy target. He pokes and prods and teases and it usually gets him into some form of trouble, and this is a kind of trouble that he’s been dying to get into. “What are you gonna do about it if I keep—“
Chan silences him by dipping down and kissing him, pressing close, tongue all but prying Jeongin’s lips apart to kiss him deeper, make him lose his mind further, rile him up more. Jeongin is helpless to do anything but go with what Chan wants, trying to match the wolf’s aggressive pace, fighting down the whines that want to leave him. He can’t let Chan win too easily, even if he’s been caught like this.
“Does that answer your question?” Chan asks when he pulls back just enough for them to breathe, the words brushing against Jeongin’s lips, dizzying with warmth. Jeongin nods once, twice, then gathers his bearings about him and pouts up at Chan, knowing that the combination of his ruffled appearance and kiss-bitten lips will drive the wolf a little bit insane.
“I guess. Are you gonna kiss me every time I open my mouth?” Jeongin tilts his head, blinking up at Chan a couple of times. The wolf inhales sharply through his teeth, pupils dilated to a point of almost eclipsing his irises.
“Would you want that?” Chan turns the question back on him, and Jeongin falters for a moment, taken off guard.
“Not every time,” Jeongin replies after a moment, before tilting his head up to try and chase after Chan’s lips. “But again. Please?”
Chan crumbles almost immediately, weak to just a little bit of begging, and Jeongin knows he’ll be making use of that knowledge at some point. The wolf fits their lips together again, gentler this time now that he’s not actively trying to make Jeongin shut up, taking his time with pulling Jeongin apart at the seams with his tongue and teeth. Sharp canines scratch against Jeongin’s bottom lip, and he swears for a moment that he sees stars behind his eyelids, unable to stop the high-pitched whine that leaves him at the feeling. Chan pauses, just for a moment, before delicately biting down on Jeongin’s bottom lip, not quite hard enough to draw blood but just enough for the fox shifter to gasp and shake beneath him.
Jeongin pulls back for a moment, and Chan lets him, watching as Jeongin tries to catch his breath. It’s impossible to ignore the way he’s grown hard in his pants, aching for Chan to touch him more, take him apart, give him more—
“You’re taking too long,” Jeongin complains, glaring up at Chan, fingers flexing where his hands are still splayed out beside his head. “Kissing is great, but can we get to the part where you fuck me?”
“I’m not fucking you on the floor of the forest,” Chan says with a small laugh, his cheeks flushed a pretty red at the vulgar request Jeongin makes of him. Jeongin kind of wants to bite him, mark up his neck, leave hickeys all the way down his chest and across his thighs for good measure. “It wouldn’t be very comfortable.”
“You could,” Jeongin argues, one hand moving from the ground and trailing down the side of Chan’s neck, across his chest. “It would be kinda hot.”
“Innie,” Chan shakes his head with a smile, catching the fox shifter’s hand before it can dip too low. “I’d rather this be a good experience for you. Comfortable. You’ve mentioned before that you don’t have much experience— I just want to make sure it’s good.”
Jeongin’s last dregs of annoyance fade, overwhelmed by fondness. Of course Chan wants to make sure he’s okay, that he’s comfortable, prioritizing everything about him. Even if Jeongin is the one who fully goaded Chan into an old mating run tradition and expected the consequences of it. It’s sweet, really, and Jeongin can appreciate a gentleman when he sees one, knowing that a long time ago, the same reservations and concerns about consent likely wouldn’t have been as prominent. Unfortunately for Chan’s clear desire to make sure that their first experience as something adjacent to mates is nice and comfortable and perfect – Jeongin did not drag the wolf shifter deep into the woods for months on end to leave without getting at least something out of it.
“It’ll be good no matter what, but if you’re so insistent on fucking me in a bed–” Jeongin doesn’t falter as Chan’s face burns red, eyes wide, lips parting without any words coming from them – “then you don’t have to fuck me right now. But you can’t tell me you’re not hard. We don’t have to go all the way, but— please?”
Jeongin watches Chan’s resolve crumble in real time as the wolf drags his eyes down Jeongin’s body, before slowly looking back up at his face. Jeongin grins, all teeth and teasing, and before he can even blink Chan has adjusted the way he’s pinning Jeongin down, one leg shoved between Jeongin’s legs, thigh pressing against the fox shifter’s dick. A startled gasp tumbles from Jeongin’s lips at the action, quickly muffled when Chan leans down to kiss him silent again.
Chan pulls Jeongin’s hips towards him with one hand, guiding Jeongin into grinding against his thigh, sending sparks of pleasure down the fox shifter’s spine. Jeongin does his best to keep up with the kiss that the wolf has pulled him into, even if he feels a little bit like he’s drowning in Chan’s touch. He doesn’t think he cares about finding his way to the surface, sinking willingly, doing his best to move his hips on his own rather than have Chan guiding him.
One particularly well-timed movement from Chan has Jeongin pulling back from their kiss with a startled moan, the sound echoing through the trees. Chan’s responding sound is low, something from deep in his chest, and Jeongin shudders at the sound, hesitantly moving a hand up. When Chan doesn’t immediately stop him, Jeongin winds an arm around the wolf’s neck, pulling down, biting at every inch of skin he can reach, painting Chan’s neck with a disorganized mess of hickeys. The wolf lets him, pleased little sounds leaving him as Jeongin nips and licks at his skin, desperate to have something between his teeth even for a moment.
“Good pup,” Chan praises, and Jeongin’s movements stutter in their tracks, a white-hot bolt of pleasure going down his spine straight to his dick. Chan’s eyes light up at the response when Jeongin whines high in his throat, shivering beneath Chan’s touch, hips faltering where he’d been brought into a steady rhythm against Chan’s thigh.
“You like that, pup? Being called good?” Chan asks, not quite taunting, just enough curiosity that Jeongin doesn’t feel like he’s being teased. He nods a couple times, frantic, whining when Chan does nothing but smile at the reaction. Then Chan is leaning down, close to Jeongin’s ear, lips brushing against his cheek.
“You’re doing so good,” Chan murmurs, breath warm against Jeongin’s skin, making him gasp. “Such a good pup. Keep grinding your hips, hm? Don’t stop until I say you can.”
“Yes, hyung,” Jeongin manages to get out before Chan pushes his thigh harder against him and takes his breath away. Jeongin’s head moves back, his neck on display for Chan, who wastes no time attaching his lips to the fox shifter’s neck, returning the favor of kisses and bites. Jeongin won’t be surprised if they both wake up with red and purple marks marring their skin in the morning, but he’s far too gone to care. The others can tease all they want; right now, he just wants to be good for Chan, to feel good.
Through the jumbled mess of his thoughts, Jeongin clings onto another bit of information that Jisung gave to him which surfaces the more that Chan nips at his neck; the fact that wolves bite to mark their mates, the same way that foxes would. One of the few things in common between his kind and Chan’s, and something that Jeongin has been wanting since the start. The feeling of Chan’s pretty teeth sunk into his neck, claiming him, making him officially Chan’s—
“Bite me,” Jeongin manages to say between the mess of sounds leaving him, prying his eyes open to look at Chan as best he can through the overwhelmed tears that have started to form. “Hyung, come on, just bite me, make me yours, please, please—”
Chan’s teeth graze over the delicate skin of Jeongin’s neck, hovering where a traditional mating bite would go. Jeongin can vaguely remember seeing bites like that when he was a kid, the ones his parents sported proudly. With Chan’s teeth so close to his neck, Jeongin almost feels delirious with want, with the desire for Chan to sink his teeth in and claim him in every way that matters, mark him in the most primal way he can.
“Are you sure?” Chan asks, his breath hot against Jeongin’s skin, and the fox shifter shudders at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he takes a breath and forces himself to look at Chan.
“Yes, I’m sure, I love you, please, Chan-hyung—” Jeongin isn’t above begging more to get what he wants, now that Chan has passed his little test of the chase, but Chan seems just as desperate as he is, lips and tongue gentle against the side of Jeongin’s neck for a few moments before his lips part and his canine teeth sink into Jeongin’s neck.
The pain explodes through Jeongin’s veins, followed immediately by pleasure, burning white-hot through his body. Jeongin’s eyes roll back as a hoarse cry leaves his lips, staccato moans leaving him between quick gasps from breath, shuddering through the orgasm that washes over him. Chan doesn’t let go of his neck, teeth digging in deep to make sure the mark stays, and Jeongin fumbles with his right hand to try and reach for Chan’s neck, pressing the wolf closer, forcing his fangs deeper into Jeongin’s neck. It hurts, almost overwhelmingly so as Jeongin is dragged into overstimulation, fingers shaking as they weave into the hair at the back of Chan’s neck.
Jeongin vaguely registers one of Chan’s hands snaking down between their bodies, palming himself over his shorts, and Jeongin shakily reaches to help with his free hand, letting Chan use his hand to get off, the wolf’s sounds pressed against his neck, muffled where Chan still has his teeth pressed into Jeongin’s neck. Chan must be just as riled up from the chase, from the mating bite, because it doesn’t take long for him to shudder beneath Jeongin’s hand, a low moan against Jeongin’s neck his indicator that Chan has reached his peak.
Chan moves their hands to rest beside them, fingers twined loosely with Jeongin’s, thumb stroking against the back of the fox shifter’s hand. It takes him a moment to notice that Chan’s teeth have let go, his tongue carefully cleaning the wound instead, murmurs of comfort leaving him every so often. Jeongin still trembles, fingers twisted tightly into Chan’s hair, but the wolf doesn’t complain. The feeling of Chan’s tongue against the bite sends waves of overwhelmed heat down Jeongin’s spine, and after a few moments of bearing it, he tugs at Chan’s hair to get him to back off. Chan does so with ease, sitting back to look down at Jeongin with a horribly fond look as Jeongin’s hand drops down to his side. Their other hands are still intertwined, Chan’s soothing motions not stopping for a moment.
“How are you feeling, pup?” Chan asks in a soft voice, gentle as he lets Jeongin slowly come back down to earth. Jeongin blinks at him, slow and unsteady, but he can feel the worn out smile tugging on his lips.
“Good,” Jeongin rasps, swallowing hard to try and clear some of the scratch of his throat from the amount of noise he’d made. “Really good.”
“I’m glad,” Chan replies, adoration bubbling across his expression, and Jeongin allows it because he’s too exhausted and content to protest.
Quiet falls between them for a long moment as Chan admires the bite on Jeongin’s neck and Jeongin admires Chan still sitting above him, the ruffled look of his hair caused by Jeongin’s hands and the slowly blooming hickeys across his neck.
“We should go back to the house, a shower is probably in order,” Chan muses as Jeongin is still valiantly trying to catch his breath and bring himself back into the real world. The wolf moves one hand to rest against Jeongin’s cheek, thumb gently smoothing over his skin in a soothing motion. It’s sweet, and Jeongin lets his head fall further into Chan’s hold, pressing his cheek against the wolf’s palm and letting his eyes fall half-shut. Chan’s resulting laugh is soft, gentle as he handles Jeongin.
“C’mon, pup, the forest floor isn’t comfortable,” Chan coaxes, which only results in a half-hearted glare from Jeongin.
“If it was comfortable enough for you to pin me down and make me cum, it’s comfortable enough for me to catch my breath,” Jeongin shoots back, and Chan shakes his head, clearly fond. A look he’s given Jeongin since day one, since he’d almost tripped over the wolf when running. The fondness is stronger now, mixed with love and admiration, and Jeongin can’t stop himself from turning his face further into Chan’s hand and pressing a kiss against his palm. Slowly, their breathing begins to sync up as Jeongin calms down, uncaring of the ground beneath his back and the sweat cooling on his skin, the dried blood against his collarbone and neck. Chan’s eyes keep flickering to the bite, a satisfied look on his face every time, and finally Jeongin gives in to the restlessness he can feel radiating off his mate. His mate. He feels almost giddy thinking about it.
“I can barely feel my legs,” Jeongin complains as he starts to sit up, Chan quickly maneuvers off him and kneels beside him as Jeongin sits up and rubs a hand over one of his knees. Chan tilts his head, then stands, reaching a hand down to help Jeongin to his feet. Jeongin goes willingly, leaning against Chan’s side, resting his cheek against the side of Chan’s head.
“You ran pretty far, pup,” Chan points out with a small smile. Jeongin huffs, rolling his eyes as they start to walk.
“Well, yeah. I had to make sure you wanted to catch me. It was a test for a reason.”
Chan hums before turning his head, reaching for Jeongin’s chin and pressing their lips together in a brief kiss, smiling when Jeongin tries to follow when he pulls away.
“I’ll always catch you,” Chan points out, eyes flicking down pointedly to the bite decorating Jeongin’s neck. The fox shifter just smiles, pressing forwards to kiss Chan again, lingering close so that his response is breathed against Chan’s lips.
“I know.”