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Changbin looked fabulous, practically sparkling under the bright lights, the gaze of hundreds on him. His suit was tailored to perfection, hugging his broad shoulders and putting a tasteful amount of his muscles on display, the lapels of his hanbok-style wrap jacket dipping low, glittering gold resting against honey skin.
His sweet, intoxicating scent filled the air around him as he glowed under the attention like he was born for it. And he was. He was the heir to Korea’s throne, the royal jewel, charming with an easy smile and a steady heart.
The darling of an entire county. So dazzling in his suit that he took Chan’s breath away. Sometimes he wondered if he was good enough for Changbin, but in the end his greed always won, making him want to snag him away and keep him hidden like the treasure of his dragon.
But he couldn’t. For all everyone knew, he was Chan’s to protect.
It was something he took very seriously. Never straying from his Changbin’s side. Maybe even clinging too close to be appropriate on occasion, but no one dared to bat an eye anymore. Chan stood beside Changbin’s side always, never wavering, shoulders pressed together in a promise.
Chan was exceptionally good at protecting Changbin. He had never failed even once. Not when they had been children, unpresented and reckless, nor when they had grown up too fast. But should he fail, Changbin’s life was his, his to take, laid down at his feet where he had first sworn his oath.
But Changbin was also Chan’s. He was his behind closed doors and in dark corners of filled ballrooms. An affair just between them, hearts growing closer the more years passed.
And that meant that he indulged, more so when parties dragged closer to their end, with alcohol flowing and tongues loosening. Over the evening his arm had come to rest on Changbin’s hip, an instinct to mark his territory, one he couldn’t hold back when he already suppressed so many of them. The looks of the alphas had lingered a tad too long tonight.
Especially Lord Hwang’s. He had lingered too close to Changbin, hand on his arm, smile pretty, a charming front to the neighbouring kingdom. He had needed to bear Changbin’s subtle slap on his back before they even reached the Lord. It was a sign, practically a command for him to ease up, to participate in the conversation with a smile while Changbin played up the flirting, chatting with Hyunjin like they were old friends. He swallowed the growl, low in his throat, constantly threatening to roll out. It was part of his job. Restraint till the point of breaking. Changbin wanted to get a better deal on the tariffs for corn by winter.
Later he would appease his alpha by scent marking him until everyone who smelt them would know they belonged together. But until then, he complimented the luxurious red silk of Lord Hwang’s suit and the way it caught the scattering light of the chandeliers.
He pulled them from one conversation to the next, entertaining and dull ones alike, people flocking around them in a familiar game of socialisation with them in the centre. Occasionally it was too much – the facades and parading all to appeal to norms, pretending to not want to bash Lord Kang’s face in whenever he sneered at the royal sons or made a snide comment about omegas. In the end it was all polite smiles, keeping his position right next to Changbin while raging inside, gaze flicking over doors, windows and people – potential threats.
Like that, Chan could be mistaken for his equal with a suit made by the same hands as Changbin’s and his expensive jewellery framing the work of the royal stylists, pulling his hair back and smoking out his eyes.
The only thing that distinguished them was the lack of a scent intertwining with Changbin’s sweet and warm amber scent, with patches stuck carefully over his glands. But that was for the best; his scent control failed when Changbin was around. He needed the patches, or everyone else would immediately know that his alpha claimed Changbin’s omega.
Changbin, though, hated the patches vigorously. For the entire duration of the night, he had dragged Chan outside twice already, peeling back the adhesive to reveal his scent to Chan’s hiss, honeyed cedar leaving a strong musk that he licked away, pulling him into kisses Chan reciprocated with equal ferocity, pulling Changbin closer and closer until he felt they were one.
For him, it was a need.
Changbin’s voice was raspy and deeper than usual; his pupils widened a sliver too much for the dim-lit garden around them. “Let’s get home. We stayed long enough, and I need you for myself now.”
The moon stood high when they re-entered the ballroom, the flock of nobility parting around them when they bid their goodbye, the king sending them off with a curt nod.
He had tried to fire him once shortly after discovering them for engaging in an indecent relationship with Changbin, as he had said, but there had been an immediate breach in security: a hitman disguised as a political diplomat infiltrating the annual trade conference. Not even two hours later, after eliminating the threat, he had resigned his contract. All without Changbin knowing. He had been stuck in said meeting all day long.
As soon as they were outside the scrutinising eyes, Changbin’s hand slipped into Chan’s, where it remained on his hip, his royal mask slipping into a casual relaxedness, familiar in the way Changbin’s laugh crackled through the empty halls, the paintings of his ancestors looking down on them.
Chan could finally calm down and take a deep breath. Even after all these years, royal functions made him nervous. Both keeping up his public persona and the social norms while also protecting Changbin from all harm. He pulled Changbin closer to his side.
“You really are a bit possessive much today, Channie,” Changbin laughed, staccato syllables echoing out in the vastness of the hallway. Chan just squeezed Changbin’s hips, pulling him even closer with a noncommittal hum until their sides were pressed against each other so much that walking became a hassle. Maybe he felt instincts acting up even more than usual.
“Don’t sell yourself short; you growled at a minimum of four alphas tonight,” Changbin chided him, pouting cutely like he was disappointed that Chan had stolen him away.
“Yes, because they were too close. Keeping them away is my job,” Chan replied, voice gruff. Changbin loved the attention but secretly loved it even more when Chan would stake his claim. Over and over again. This was just to rile him up a bit.
Changbin shrugged, measured. “Well, usually you are a lot more lenient with them,” his dark eyes catching Chan’s gaze, lingering before he continued. “I was nearly sure you would break Lord Hwang’s jaw for putting his hand on my arm.”
“Hey baby, in comparison to Minho and Jisung I was really tame today,” Chan redirected Changbin’s bait, letting out a giggle at the memory of Jisung’s custom off-shoulder blazer, showing off a full mating bite right over his throat. Minho had wrapped himself around his mate from the back, hands sprawled possessively, their alpha scents mingling without an ounce of shame or even an effort to behave decently.
Chan was really proud of himself. He had resisted indulging his roaring instincts at least half the time.
Changbin’s laugh was humourless, a short bellow.
“Oh my god, Channie, I don’t know whose existence Father hates more. Me or Jisungie’s?” Changbin shook his head, pensive. They hadn’t missed the disapproving scowl of the king on Changbin for half of the evening. It had been a shock for everyone when Changbin – broad and loud – had presented as an omega, apparently entirely "unbefitting" of a future king.
“You and I both know that he’s old and narrow-minded.” He was the king, but his loyalty would always be with Changbin.
It had been a rough few months, with Jisung’s recent presentation. Alpha, not Omega. Changbin’s father had been in joy for about thirty seconds. Finally, his alpha heir. And then Minho, Jisung’s personal guard, had carried Jisung out of his rut den to reveal him with mating bites across every single scent gland. To say the king had thrown a hissy fit would be an understatement.
“Yeah. And he would have announced Jisung as heir if not for Minho placing that fat bite across his throat.” Changbin squeezed his hand, pulling it closer to the softness of his tummy, making them halt just before the entrance to their suite.
Chan sighed, heavy and lingering. “Yeah. He would have.”
That night they had gotten drunk off the royal liquor to celebrate Minho and Jisung’s mating.
Changbin would become king after all.
And Chan had left the small box in his sock drawer untouched.
“I’m pretty sure Father likes you best, though. You. Being the king. And I could be your pretty omega, spoilt rotten, commanding the army.” Changbin smirked, trailing his hands down Chan’s button-up, rings glinting on his way down to Chan’s groin. Two strands of his once styled hair had fallen to his forehead, the ties of his wrapped suit jacket loosening, exposing a deep V of his chest, delicious honey skin, supple and soft from Changbin’s body lotion.
Chan didn’t give a single fuck that they were right in the middle of an open corridor where everyone could see them. But Changbin was a fucking tease and only brushed his hands over his half chub before pulling away. He smacked his lips cutely in faked innocence, a total switch-up from before. Chan wanted to eat him already. His. His. His.
Instead, he pressed a hungry kiss to Changbin’s waiting lips, greedy and lingering, rubbing the glands of his wrist over the exposed glands on Changbin’s neck, marking him, just how Changbin liked it best. He could feel Changbin’s strong body melting in his grasp, plush muscles heated against his palms.
Changbin was out of breath when he ripped himself away, chest heaving and eyes glazed over.
“You don’t play fair,” he whined, his cheeks puffing up. “I need to do my workout.”
Chan whined, alpha howling. It was a herculean task, but he managed to let go of Changbin, finger after finger lifting from soft muscles until Changbin could step back.
“Then go, my strong, strong omega, so I might look dainty hanging off your arms.” Chan tried flattery. He really wanted to curl up in the arms of his omega and doze off.
Changbin looked pleased at the compliment, eyeing Chan’s own lean muscles. He wasn’t small either. But in the end, there was nothing that could get Changbin to skip a workout.
With a quick kiss, a grab to his ass and a lazy smile, Changbin was off. Chan sighed, trotting inside their apartment.
Changbin would take a good while to return, so Chan undressed, taking care to put back his suit, and took a quick shower, getting rid of all the unfamiliar smells and the makeup on him, scrubbing down with his favourite soap.
Afterwards he only pulled on a pair of loose sweatpants. They were only really a courtesy for the off-chance that someone would barge in to demand something, not because he liked wearing them. Chan fingerprint-locked his gun and placed it on the counter, just to be safe, and got to cleaning up the flat. Everything that had been scattered before, when Changbin had insisted on lounging around until they had had to rush to get presentable, was being placed in its rightful place. Sometimes Changbin’s lack of ability and will to plan frustrated him to no end, just like the messiness it left that he despised, but ultimately, that was Changbin, and Chan loved him. So he cleaned the flat up to his standards, wiped down a few counters and ironed his suit for the next day.
Chan also decorated the bedroom a bit more so it would be prettier for later, he felt like it, arranging a few pillows here and there in their nest until they were fluffed up nicely, clicking on the mood lighting, and changing their sheets to even softer ones. He had seen Changbin lose sleep from his omega forcing him to look for softer nest materials.
Changbin came back in, right as he prepped the salad for the dinner he had planned, knife coming down on the cutting board while Changbin wrapped himself around him from behind, like an oversized weighted blanket, nuzzling into his bare neck, hot, sweat-slick and scent so heavy it flooded the entire apartment.
Out of fear of his fingers, Chan laid down his knife. The pure pheromones in Changbin’s scent screamed at him, instincts going into high drive.
He turned. Changbin looked at him with feigned sadness.
“Don’t you want to make your Binnie happy?” he said cutely, while pointing an accusing finger at the nearly finished salad, finely chopped and rich with nutrients.
For good measure, Changbin whined, “I’m hungry,” rattling him. “Your omega needs food!” Chan had noticed Changbin’s appetite growing as of late. He had prepared.
“C’mon. You know the beef is already marinating in the fridge.” Chan chuckled. His Changbin was too cute.
“Okay,” Changbin exclaimed, happily skipping off. Food always improved his mood. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Meat hit the pan, sizzling only shortly before Chan took it off again, letting the oven do the rest. Just as he took it out, a tad bit earlier than usual, Changbin strode back in, clad in a black oversized hoodie, giving him the cutest sweater paws, his hair all fluffed up and curly after getting wet and blow-dried. Chan was sure he was half-hard already.
At the sight of his dinner, Changbin perked up.
He practically pulled the plate from his grasp, but Chan was quicker, stealing a hand under Changbin’s hoodie and settling it on his lower back to drag him back for a kiss.
Changbin’s lips were soft and pouty as they parted for him, a soft gasp falling from his lips at the hungry kiss.
But Changbin’s skin was all dried up, and Chan had seen the way Changbin’s shoulder had dragged the tiniest bit. He was sore and skipped his lotion. Negligent.
“Aish, Binnie. You’re all dried up,” Chan couldn’t help but chide him as he caressed the skin on Changbin’s waist, all soft and grabbable. Just for him.
Changbin looked offended. “But-but my meat!”
“You eat, I lotion you up and give you a quick massage. We can’t have you stiff for tomorrow’s meeting. It’s gonna be long.” Changbin would never turn down such a thing.
They settled on the bed so Changbin could lie down comfortably, chest down and plate in front of him. Sighing happily as he munched on his steak, cut up in stripes, he let Chan massage him, the lotion thick on his hands as he spread it over the broad width of Changbin’s back, honeyed skin pliable over hard muscles. They chatted lazily as Changbin chewed, moments trickling by.
Chan didn’t know if it was from the meat that made Changbin’s cheeks fluff up or how he had just dug into a tight spot to massage it out, but Changbin’s groan was heavy, scent amber-sweet.
“How did you know I wanted my steak bloody?” Another piece of meat disappeared to a happy hum. He was rock hard from pleasing his omega, legs swung over his omega's back, ass plush against his groin.
“I had a feeling,” Chan replied, sliding off and turning Changbin around. He could see the wet patch at the back of Changbin’s boxers and smell the sweetness growing. Chan really did have a feeling for things like this. How Changbin had recently yearned for softer sheets and eyed the carpaccio at the state banquet last week. He noticed.
“You always have a feeling,” Changbin murmured, licking off his fingers, plate empty.
“Ah, Binnie, I’m just really, really good at my job,” Chan laughed, half-joking, half serious. Changbin hadn’t noticed, but he had stashed his gun behind the bedpost, ready to grab in an emergency.
Changbin let his head loll back against the pillows with a relaxed sigh, sinking into the new fabric, clean-washed with his favourite fabric softener. His hair spread like a dark halo.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure Father let you live with me so you could not only protect me but also spoil me better. Clean for me. Cook for me. Care for me. Fuck me so well. Breed me.” Changbin’s eyes turned dreamy, voice drifting off. “I like the new sheets, Channie, thank you.”
Chan hummed as he settled back over Changbin’s hips, hardness sliding against hardness with a low groan as he pumped out more lotion and warmed it between his fingers before reaching up to cup Changbin’s plush pecs and massaging it all over the planes of his chest and shoulders, down to the softness of his belly.
“I like to please,” Chan answered, stealing a kiss from Changbin’s lips, skin heated, slick sweetness tickling into the air.
He went back to massaging Changbin, grabbing onto soft skin and thick muscle, rubbing his scent all over Changbin. He felt Changbin growing relaxed, half-dozing off under the slide of his fingers.
“You’re too good at it,” Changin said, voice low and lazy as he peeked up at Chan. “I swear he only tolerates my omega guts because of you.” They both know he meant the king and his wish for the perfect alpha heir.
Chan snorted. He had seen the king’s looks when Chan grew too possessive of Changbin, moving a bit too close to someone that was supposed to be his target to protect, letting his touches linger like when they returned from the “toilets” with dishevelled hair and kiss-reddened lips.
“He would fire me if he could.”
“Minho definitely, although that would be suicide. But not you. No,” Changbin replied, gaze heavy for only a second before he relaxed back into the softness of their nest.
Chan only hummed. If the king realised how thoroughly he loved his son, or worse, how seriously he wished to mate him and how he would find the loophole to make Changbin his, he would definitely try, but Chan would never leave Changbin’s side. No one would get him to.
Changbin’s voice drifted off into dreaminess as Chan rubbed his wrist over the gland on his neck, slow circles over the place where Chan desperately wanted to bite. Their scents intertwined, just like they both needed.
“You would be king, doing all the responsible meeting shit, and I would get fucked nicely, frolic in the fields all day with Jisungie and our pups, and eat delicious steak.”
His hands stopped fondling, stilling over Changbin’s nipples, pebbled under his attentive touch. Chan could barely hold off grinding down into Changbin, feeling himself twitch at the vision.
But not yet. He wanted to drive Changbin insane for a bit longer, have him really desperate, begging for his cock.
So instead of giving in, he moved on to Changbin’s bulging biceps, all muscles practically for show only, dragging things out, letting their chatter stretch out as he sank into the joy of caring for his omega until he was purring.
“With how hard Minho’s been trying to get Jisung pregnant, you might not be too far off.”
Changbin’s gaze lingered, hands finally moving up to settle over Chan’s hips, warm palms, rough with calluses, rubbing against his skin, squeezing his rippling muscles appreciatively. A smirk stole its way onto Changbin’s lips, eyes twinkling as he hummed, teasing. He liked indulging Chan’s raging breeding kink.
“Well, you’re not behind. I didn’t joke about the breeding. All that knotting really did it.” He let the words linger, spreading through the air, Chan’s brain too syrupy to understand immediately.
Changbin's voice dragged on, smile soft as he cupped his belly. “I’m actually pregnant.” His small eyes peeked up, all boba. Wide and a tiny bit insecure, where usually only confidence shone. Like he didn’t know how Chan would react.
Chan’s eyes were even wider as they flickered to Changbin’s belly, his fingers faster than his brain, palms settling over the soft swell. Nothing was visible yet, nothing different.
But everything was different now. He realised what this meant.
Changbin relaxed, muscles giving in when a soft smile slipped on his lips as Chan went through a multitude of emotions: hope, happiness, shock, excitement, satisfaction, love.
Too many feelings bubbled up, a soft, delighted gasp slipping from his lips. He already knew it was true. He should have realised earlier actually. His alpha had been acting up more than usual, practically clawing at him to mate his omega now, to care and protect, like he didn’t do that already every single day.
Their lips met in a kiss, deep and desperate, his hands reaching to hold Changbin’s face, soft from all the lotion. Their scents puffed into the air even more, dripping with sweet and forest, as their bare chests slid together.
“Please, Binnie. Let me properly marry you. The king can’t say no, now that you’re with an heir.” His tone was pleading as he held Changbin’s gaze, and maybe it was not the best moment, but it was the only moment Chan could imagine.
His hands were trembling where they rested. “Our pup,” he whispered.
“Yeah, Channie. I'm glad I finally get to marry you. You did so well,” Changbin said, patting their interlaced hands on his belly, letting the tension melt away as he cuddled back into the pillows.
His ears and cheeks grew heated as he carefully slid off Changbin to get the ring.
Changbin was the royal heir; he could not be proposed to and not even get a ring for it. Chan said so when Changbin started to bemoan his absence, that he had left, just like that, his pregnant omega.
Chan hated that Changbin got him with that, making him even harder, straining in his boxers, scent flaring up.
The ring fit nicely, sliding right over Changbin’s finger, a sturdy band that wouldn’t disturb him too much when in the gym.
Two fingers in, the squelch of slick was obscene, sweetness pooling in Chan’s mouth as he fell to his knees at the foot of their bed, dragging Changbin closer to the edge by the plush of his hips.
He worshipped Changbin like he deserved, burying himself between his mate’s legs, thick thighs locking around his head when his nose met Changbin’s pubic bone.
Changbin grew impatient, hips twitching while Chan was still desperate to get his mouth all over him, suckling at his rim, licking deep inside and swallowing his thick length down, stretching his lips but not even hitting the back of his throat.
Changbin moaned, trying to get his fingers deeper, more stimulation, more anything, his fingers tangled in Chan’s fluffed-up locks, but it was only his whining getting to him.
His breath hitched when Chan finally pulled away to look up, chin dripping slick, eyes crazed.
“H-hah. Channie. Please.”
Who was Chan to deny him?
He barely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before Changbin pulled him into a filthy kiss, desperate and demanding, fingers ripping at his shorts to stroke over his cock, so hard it nearly made him dizzy, spreading precum.
“Okay, princess,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Changbin’s mating gland, sucking hard until his hips bucked up. He couldn’t bite yet, though he would leave a visible mark regardless. This time, Changbin didn’t stop him like all the other times but rather bared his neck, granting him complete access.
Chan thrust in carefully, feeling Changbin accommodate him with the ease of someone that had taken him countless times before, time stretching while he slid through syrupy warmth, pulling small gasps from his omega, thighs quivering around his hips, lips sweet against his.
The ember built slowly, the feeling melting out in quiet comfort until Changbin huffed, fingers ripping at his hair.
“Harder, please. Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” It was half plea, half command. Chan wanted to.
“B-but the baby.”
The sweet, tacky scent intensifying was a sign of how pleased his omega was, but Changbin wasn’t pleased, legs locking around his hips until they were stopped in their gentle rocks.
Changbin pouted, using his wet, shiny eyes to his advantage, cheeks flushed.
“That’s exactly the reason I went to the gym one last time in peace before you started hovering…” he sighed, unsatisfied, pulling a face, the throbbing arousal forgotten.
Chan’s alpha took over, his eyes narrowing. “But you were careful, weren’t you?” He knew the exact number of weights Changbin lifted usually, and he wasn’t sure, but it sounded like terribly much for a pregnant person.
He was met with a grumble and an eye roll, slightly accusatory. “Obviously. Knock it off, Chan. I got a permission slip from the doctor, just for this case.”
“You got a permission slip,” he winced. Sometimes Changbin knew him better than was maybe good.
“Yeah, from Seungmin. It’s stamped. You can look later; now fuck me good.” Changbin grew insistent. If he wouldn’t get it together, Changbin was going to turn thrm and use him until he came, leaving Chan hard and desperate, begging. He had done so before. But Chan knew that he didn’t want to. Not truly. His scent lost its sweetness then and became overpowering, bitter. He just wanted to melt back into the pillows and let himself be worshipped.
Changbin pulled his deadly weapon, lips jutting out, trembling. “Alpha, please. Don’t you want to make your princess happy?” It was a calculated whine that sent him crumbling.
Chan was nothing if not devoted to service to his omega.
A scent so sweet and heavy it cloyed Chan’s senses, a mix of them both surrounded him when he pushed back into wet heat, Changbin’s moan throaty, swallowed by their soft pillows while he let Chan do all the work.
Changbin’s hand tangled in his hair, limbs trembling, as Chan snapped his hips, hard and demanding, skin slapping against skin, making Changbin take everything he had to give, just how he liked it.
“You’re such a spoilt princess,” Chan tutted, fingers sliding through drippy precome, cock bobbing uselessly before he wrapped a hand around. Changbin’s mouth dropped open, face flushed so high it was sinful, as he let out a deep moan, settling something in Chan. He snapped his hips harder, driving right up into Changbin’s prostate, watching his eyes cross with pleasure as he stroked his fist over Changbin’s cock, so thick he cbaren't close it, but short and so, so fucking pink. Chan loved spoiling Changbin.
He still tasted Changbin’s slick on their lips, smashed together on and off, breaths distorted and moans swallowed. He lay spread out for him like a buffet, pecs bouncing with each thrust, Chan’s fingers denting Changbin’s plush thighs. Chan’s knot popped; he couldn’t stop himself.
It was only a few flicks of his hand and his knot grinding against Changbin’s prostate until he came with a whine and Chan’s name on his lips, clenching so hard that the coil snapped in Chan, wave after wave crashing over him as he came, buried deep inside his omega.
His omega.
He shuddered, looking down onto Changbin from half-lidded eyes, all thick muscles, flushed red, and cum soiled, spread on his cock and pregnant with their pup. Changbin’s smile was dozy, eyes blown out, knot-drunk, scents so intertwined that he couldn’t differentiate them.
Changbin was a lot to more people than Chan could ever know.
Acquaintance.
Entertainer.
Samaritan.
Royal Jewel.
Crown prince.
One day King.
Friend.
Brother.
The darling of an entire country.
Their breaths mingled when Changbin pulled him into a kiss by the nape, smile pressed against Chan’s lips and arms wrapped tight around him.
Because in the end, he was Chan’s omega, his mate.
The treasured jewel to his dragon.
His entire world, love and future.