Archive of Our Own ^beta

Realistically, Chan knows he's freaking out over nothing. It's not like he's actually been left behind by his members. They didn't leave him.

But they kind of did.

The most recent EXchange Code episodes are supposed to be fun, silly. A way to lighten the mood after a packed comeback and awards show season. And it had been.

Until they had all picked each other and left Chan alone.

Alone. 

Something he'd hoped he'd never have to be again. Something he'd been so sure would never happen after he'd met the rest of the members. 

And yet it had.

It was all in good fun. Chan knows that. He knows that, but the way his chest started to ache and his eyes started to burn as he watched Jisung walk away with Minho had been very real. 

Too real.

Sure, Chan had been joking around with the rest of them, teasing Jisung when Jeongin chose Hyunjin instead. Deliberately not picking a pouting Jisung just to be annoying. 

It was all fun and games, right?

Then Jisung had poked right back, landing the blow right where he knew it would hurt Chan the most. Shooting off a parting shot just for good measure.

And it had hurt.

It still hurts now.

He watches the ocean out of the passenger side mirror. He can't make out much in the dark, just a faint outline where the shore ends and the water begins, but it's still soothing. At least he's trying to convince himself it is.

Seungmin hadn't fought him when Chan had taken the passenger seat. Maybe he could sense the dark mood currently swirling around Chan or maybe he was just tired. Either way, he'd taken the keys and started the car without protest.

They haven't spoken since they left the restaurant, the silence stifling but Chan can't bring himself to break it. He feels too raw, too open, to chance some passing comment hitting an already aching nerve.

Seungmin is one of the quieter of the members and Chan is eternally grateful for that right now. Talking is only going to make him feel worse. All he wants to do is hide away in a dark room, curled up under his covers where no one will find him, so he can sort through the emotions currently eating him alive.

And he tries to do that. He really does, but Jisung is always the anomaly in Chan's equations. 

It doesn't matter that Chan has known him for eight years, dating two of them. Han Jisung will always manage to surprise him. It's usually in the best ways, but tonight, Chan doesn't want Jisung’s surprises. 

Tonight, Chan doesn't want anyone's company, but he especially doesn't want Jisung’s. 

Jisung has always been Chan's rock, his lighthouse that brings him home from a stormy sea. Jisung took care of Chan when Chan couldn't do it himself, and he never stopped.

Even now, Jisung is the one who checks in on him during late nights and early mornings in the studio. He's always asking Chan if he's eaten, if it was real food, and then ordering food for Chan himself when Chan dodges the questions with as much skill as a weightlifter doing ballet.

He stays up, waiting for Chan to come home, and peaks in on him when Chan actually manages to beat Jisung himself home. He lets Chan crawl into his bed whether Jisung is home or not. He wakes Chan with soft kisses and hands carding through his curls. He's always there when Chan needs him, even if Chan hasn't realized it himself. 

That's probably why it hurts so fucking much right now.

Chan has grown comfortable, complacent. Secure in the idea that Jisung will always be there. That Jisung will pick Chan at every given opportunity and that Chan will never be alone again. 

But here he is, curling up under the covers in a dark room; alone. 

He pulls a pillow to his chest, squeezing it tight and drawing his knees up until he’s wrapped around it. It doesn’t ease the hurt in his chest but it does muffle the sound of his crying. 

He feels stupid , crying over some dumb game that isn’t important in the grand scheme of things. It isn’t like Jisung has actually broken up with him and the group has disbanded. It isn’t real .

Jisung’s words had been real, though.

I would have gone with you, hyung .

Would have. Not will, but would. Past tense.

Chan doesn’t want to think of his relationship with Jisung in the past tense. Not now. Not ever. 

He knows that’s illogical, but Chan doesn’t know what he would do without Jisung. He doesn’t want to consider it, because if he does, it makes the entire situation even more real than it already feels.

He rubs his face against the pillowcase, smearing tears across his cheeks. The very idea that he will one day face the world without Jisung by his side has a sob welling up in his chest.

It slips past his lips despite his best efforts. He muffles it in the pillow, but that one sob turns into two, then three, and suddenly he’s crying in earnest. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, crying into a pillow in a dark room. Time moves differently when emotions are high. It might have been only minutes or maybe it has been hours. Chan has no idea.

He’s sucking in a steadying breath when the sound of a knock at the door startles him. 

He sits upright in bed, blinking his stinging eyes in the direction of the door. It’s so dark in the room that all he can make out is the faint outline of light coming in the door’s cracks.

“Hyung?”

Jisung. 

A thousand different thoughts run through his head all at once. Surprise that Jisung not only went looking for him but found him. Wondering why Jisung sounds so concerned . Comfort in all of those facts, but worst of all, the ache in his chest throbs, and more tears well up in his eyes. 

He has to say something . Jisung isn’t one to just go about his business when he knows something is going on with Chan, and it’s clear from the tone of that one word that Jisung is very concerned. 

“Yeah?” he tries and promptly winces at how rough his voice is.

It’d be clear to anyone that he’s been crying.

Jisung doesn’t even wait for Chan to invite him in, just opens the door enough so he can slip inside and shut it softly behind him. Chan doesn’t protest, too exhausted to do more than fall back against the mattress and pull his pillow back to his chest.

The quiet stretches for a few long seconds and then Jisung breaks it, and what he says makes Chan’s sobs pick right back where they had left off.

“Channie- baby, what happened? Why are you alone, crying in the dark?”

Chan doesn’t bother answering. He presses his face firmly into the pillow but the choked sound that escapes his lips is still loud in the silence.

The bed dips beside him and Chan rolls so Jisung is at his back. It’s not like he’d be able to see Chan’s face in the dark, but Chan doesn’t want Jisung to see him like this. Not even for a second. 

The fact that he’s found him having a breakdown in a dark room, as far from his members as he could get in their rented condo, is bad enough in Chan’s opinion. 

“Sweetheart…” Jisung whispers in the dark.

The term of endearment only makes Chan cry harder. He wraps himself tightly around the pillow, curling as far in on himself as he can manage. There’s movement at his back and he can feel Jisung’s hand hovering over him, but he doesn’t touch.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Jisung’s voice is thick with worry, concern softening the edges. Chan takes a small comfort in that, that Jisung cares enough that he’d worry. Never mind the fact that Jisung has always worried about him. 

He doesn’t know how to answer.

‘ You left me ’ sounds like he’s whining. ‘Everyone left me ’ sounds even more clingy. ‘ You picked Minho over me’ only sounds jealous and that’s not what Chan is right now.

Jealousy has never crossed his mind. He has never doubted Jisung’s loyalty to him. Never questioned his love. Not until tonight.

In the end, he doesn’t say anything. Nothing he can think of sounds right. Words cannot convey the depth of hurt he feels at the perceived rejection of his members.

Jisung’s perceived rejection. 

He just cries into his pillow, shoulders shaking and breath sticking in his lungs until he’s gasping, trying to pull in what air he can. He feels like he’s being dramatic, as if this is just a temper tantrum, like a child who isn’t picked for the team he wants in a dodgeball game, but he can’t stop.

Chan doesn’t register Jisung moving him until he finds himself pulled into his lap. He doesn’t even have the presence of mind to fight him. He just clings, hands fisted in Jisung’s shirt and his forehead pressed to his sternum. Jisung holds him tight, both arms wrapped around him where Chan is curled into a ball between his spread legs. 

He doesn’t try to get Chan to explain, doesn’t ask any more questions; Chan doesn’t have the answers anyway. He presses kisses to Chan’s head, nuzzling into his messy curls, hair still damp from a rushed shower. He starts rocking him gently, murmuring against the crown on Chan’s head.

Chan cries himself dry. Sobbing until he has no tears, no voice. He’s still gasping for air once the tears stop and Jisung pulls him away from his chest to cup both of Chan’s wet cheeks.

“Breathe, baby,” Jisung tells him, voice soft and gentle. 

Just like his reassuring words. Just like his hands and his kisses. Just like he always is with Chan. 

Chan chokes on a broken sound, eyes squeezing shut and his lower lip trembling. Jisung’s thumbs rub across his cheekbones even though it doesn’t help.

“No, no, no,” Jisung says, voice the same steady lit it has been since he pulled Chan into his lap, “Don’t cry, baby. Please . Don’t cry, okay? You’re not alone, Channie. You’re not alone. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Chan knows he’s aiming for reassuring but it has the opposite effect. It just reminds Chan of Jisung walking away from him, his arm slung around Minho’s shoulders. 

“I am,” Chan finally says weakly, “I am .“

“What?” Jisung asks, only a hint of confusion leaking into his voice, “You’re what, baby?”

“Alone,” Chan chokes out, “I am alone.”

“Baby, I’m right here ,“ Jisung adds stress to ‘here’ , and lets his forehead rest gently against Chan’s. “I’m right here beside you.”

“You left,” Chan tells him and there’s no heat to it, no venom. 

He’s just stating a fact, something that he can’t change no matter how much he wants to. 

“Left?” Jisung sounds confused now, unsure of his own words but he continues on, “Baby, I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me, Bang Chan. I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me? I’m here for you, baby. I always will be.”

“You left ,“ Chan says again, soft and more broken than before, “You left me . Everyone left me.”

“What are you talking about, baby?” Jisung whispers into the dark between them, not moving even a centimeter away from Chan, holds him tight in his grip as if he’s scared Chan will be the one to leave.

“Tonight,” Chan tells him with his fingers wrapped tight around Jisung’s wrists, holding onto the only life line he has in rough waters. 

The only lifeline he has ever had.

“You picked Minho, and-“ Chan has to suck in a breath before he can continue, “ No one picked me! I’m alone! I never wanted to be alone again!”

“ Fuck ,” Jisung says with more feeling than he has put into anything else he has said so far, “ Fuck . Channie, no. No . It was just a stupid game. You know I’d never do that to you. Do you really think I’d ever be able to pick someone over you? After everything, do you really think there’s anyone else in the world I would pick before you?”

“I don’t know!” Chan tells him miserably, “I don’t know, but it hurts! It hurts , Jisungie.”

“I know, baby. I know it does.” 

Jisung gathers Chan back against him, pressing Chan’s face into his neck. Chan wraps his arms around him and then his legs when Jisung coaxes him into uncurling.

Jisung holds onto Chan just as tightly as Chan is holding onto him.

“Chan, there is no one I will ever pick over you,” Jisung tells him with so much conviction that it has Chan’s heart skipping a beat in his chest, “If I had thought for even one second that me picking Lino-hyung tonight would hurt you, I would have never done it.”

“But you-“ Chan tries and chokes on air, having to take a deep breath before he continues, “But you said-“

“Fuck what I said,” Jisung says hotly as he cups Chan’s face again and forces Chan to look at him in the dark of the room, “I didn’t mean a fucking word of it. Do you hear me? Not if you thought I would ever leave you. I didn’t mean one single fucking word if you thought I was going to pick anyone over you.”

Chan sniffles, blinking teary eyes as he searches what he can make out of Jisung’s face in the dim room. He can just make out the scrunched eyebrows, fringe combed back out of his face from nervous hands. His mouth is set in a hard line. Not in anger, but it convection. 

He means it , Chan realizes, lips parting in shock.

“Promise?” 

The word leaves his mouth before he can stop it and Jisung answers before Chan can even try to take it back.

“ Yes ,“ Jisung whispers fiercely, “I promise you, baby. There isn’t anything in this fucking world that can take me away from you. Not even death. I’m not leaving you in this lifetime or any other. There isn’t a universe that exists or ever will exist that I won’t be right here, by your side.”

Chan might have giggled at Jisung’s dramatics any other time, but right now it just makes him feel loved, wanted , and he’s going to cling to it like a drowning man. 

“You mean it?” Chan asks, needing confirmation that those pretty words aren't just that, pretty words.         

“Yes, Channie,” Jisung says, voice thick with emotion, “I’ll say it again. Over and over until you believe it. And if you never fully believe it, I’ll say it for the rest of our lives.”

Chan nods, forehead bumping into Jisung’s, but he doesn’t move out of Chan’s space. In fact, he holds Chan tighter, fingertips digging into Chan’s temples.

“Please,” Jisung says, “Don’t ever think I could leave you. Stupid fucking game. I knew something was going to fucking happen. Christ.”

“How could you have known?” Chan asks, genuinely curious now that he’s reassured that; a) he is not alone, and b) that Jisung isn’t going to leave him.

“There’s too many charged emotions in our group,” Jisung tells him as he cards his fingers through Chan’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Too many feelings had the potential to get hurt, even if it is all for show. You know how Sengminnie feels about Iyen-ah. And how Minho feels about Felix. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone else’s feelings were hurt tonight, too.”

“It was all fake,” Chan says, only trying to convince himself a little bit that it’s true.

“That doesn’t make those feelings fake,” Jisung answers, “And it doesn’t make it hurt any less when they get stomped on. Fake or not, rejection still hurts, even if it’s only perceived and not real.”   

“Yeah,” Chan breathes, soaking in the comfort he gets from just being in Jisung’s presence, “You’re right. Do you think we need to check on anyone?”

“The only way I’m going anywhere right now is if you come with me,” Jisung tells him firmly, “And I don’t think you want everyone to see your cute blotchy face right now.”

“Oh, fuck off.” 

Chan shoves him in the shoulder but Jisung doesn’t budge. Chan tries not to think about how that makes him feel. On one hand, he’s grateful that Jisung is just as steady physically as he is mentally. On the other hand, it just reminds Chan that Jisung can throw him around if he wants to, and he’s entirely too exhausted to do anything besides going to sleep.

Preferably in Jisung’s arms.

“Do we need to check on anyone?” Chan repeats, poking Jisung in the ribs so he giggles and squirms. 

“I can message them,” Jisung answers as he grabs Chan’s hands so he can’t tickle him more.

His grip is just as sure as everything else about him is, long fingers wrapped tight around Chan’s wrists. Chan doesn’t even try to take his hands back.

“I’m only worried about you right now,” Jisung continues, thumbs rubbing across the tops of Chan’s hands, “I need to know you’re okay before I do anything else.”

“I’m-“ Chan starts but has to pause to do a quick self-evaluation.

He’s not drowning in his emotions any longer, but there is still the ghost of an ache in his chest. His face feels bloated and his eyes are burning, even in the dark. His throat is raw; his nose is stuffed. His skin is sticky from his tears. Exhaustion weighs heavy on him, but he feels worlds better now than he had twenty minutes ago. 

“I’m better,” he finally decides.

He’s definitely not good , but he’s not too bad either. 

“Just tired,” he finishes. 

“Well, I don’t think you’ve cried like that since we were trainees,” Jisung says and Chan swats him on the arm with a frown. 

“I don’t cry like that,” Chan grumbles.

“You literally just did.”

Jisung laughs when Chan punches him playfully. It ends with Chan right back in Jisung’s lap, thighs around his waist, and arms around his neck.

Even in the dark, Chan can see his wide grin and Chan can’t help but grin back.

“I hope you never cry like that again,” Jisung says softly as he pushes Chan’s hair off his forehead, “I hope I’m never the reason you cry. Period.”

“You know life doesn’t work like that.”

“Yeah,” Jisung breathes, “Yeah, I know.”

They sit like that for a few moments. Jisung continues to play with Chan’s hair and Chan watches him. Even in the dark, he’s beautiful to Chan. Always will be. 

“What?” Jisung asks after an extended silence, eyebrows rising towards his hairline.

“Nothing,” Chan says, a soft smile on his face, “It’s just…Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real.”

Jisung grins wide and buries his fingers in Chan’s hair, tugging just the way Chan likes. It tips his head back and a soft sigh slips past his lips. 

“I’m just as real as you are, Channie-baby.”

Warm lips skim up his jawline and Chan is smiling when Jisung kisses him. 

“I would say prove it,” Chan tells him between kisses, “But I’m tired and my face hurts.”

Jisung snorts, a laugh rumbling in his chest. They’re both smiling when he rubs noses with Chan.

“I guess we should get you to bed then, princess,” Jisung teases, “It is after midnight.”

“Does that mean you’re about to turn back into a mouse?”

“Can’t I at least be the footman?” Jisung asks, incredulous.

“Nah,” Chan teases, loving the fact that Jisung puffs up in annoyance at his answer.

“It’s not like glass slippers would fit you, anyway,” Jisung grumbles, “You’re feet are too fucking big.”

“Yah!” Chan shouts, forgetting the time and their whereabouts.

He still shoves Jisung hard enough that he tumbles off the bed with a yelp.

Chan flicks on the bedside lamp so he can look at the floor where Jisung is sprawled dramatically. 

“Your feet are just as big as mine!”

“You know what they say. Big feet, big dic-“

Chan falls off the bed in his haste to muffle Jisung’s snarky comment with a pillow. It ends with him half on top of Jisung and his feet still awkwardly stuck on the bed.

“You’re a menace,” Chan grumbles as Jisung's muffled laugh shakes him. 

“Is it a lie though?” Jisung asks, a smirk stretching his lips as he wiggles his eyebrows at Chan.

“For you or for me?” Chan challenges, daring Jisung to verbalize what Chan knows he’s thinking.

He should really know that Jisung never backs down from a challenge. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Jisung says without even missing a beat, “I think your little cock is very cute.”

Chan might slam the pillow back on his face with more force than necessary. Jisung deserves it anyway.

The resulting wrestling match ends with Jisung grabbing Chan by the face and kissing him until he lets the pillow fall to the floor and he melts into Jisung’s body with a whimper. 

“I thought you were tired,” Jisung teases when he pulls back, his grin taking up his whole face.

“I am,” Chan snaps, “And it’s funny how you think I’d let you fuck me after you called my dick little and cute .

“You didn’t mind last week,” Jisung hums and laughs when Chan glares at him.

“Okay, okay,” Jisung relents, “In my defense, I think everything about you is cute.”

“For fucks sake,” Chan groans, rolling his eyes hard enough it nearly hurts. 

Twenty minutes later, Jisung’s luggage now sits beside Chan’s next to the closet and Chan is exactly where he wants to be. Jisung is pressed as close as he can get against Chan’s back, strong arms tight around Chan’s middle. 

It doesn’t take long for the feeling of Jisung’s even breathing against his neck to lull him into sleep.

Chan wakes up feeling better than he has in weeks. He’s not sure if it was him crying every emotion he had out the night before or if it’s Jisung currently still wrapped tight around him. Either way, he feels nearly boneless as he rolls over in the cage of Jisung’s arms.

Sunlight filters in through the blinds, falling across Jisung’s face. It highlights the curve of his cheek and the fullness of his bottom lip. He’s still asleep, chest rising and falling in a steady even rhythm. Chan takes the opportunity to just look at him.

Chan can hardly believe that the Jisung before him is the same lanky teenager who stalked into the JYP practice room all those years ago. He was all limbs and audacity back then, and while he still has all of the audacity, he’s grown into his body in ways Chan would have never guessed he would. 

He traces the curve of one puffy cheek with a soft finger, following it down the sharp jawline his cheeks hide. A long neck tappers into a set of shoulders Jisung always jokes he’s earned. Shoulders that will carry the weight of all Chan’s worries if Jisung gets his way. The bare skin of his arm is sleep-warm, tanned skin a stark contrast to the lighter tan of Chan’s own. 

Chan doesn’t try to resist the urge to wrap his fingers around Jisung’s bicep and squeeze. There’s just the right amount of give and it makes things stir low in Chan’s body. He does it again, and the muscle tenses under his touch. His cock twitches in interest.

“Good morning to you, too,” Jisung says, voice rough from sleep.

It only makes Chan’s dick grow harder.

His face flushes as his wide eyes jump to Jisung’s. His lips part as Jisung’s hand slides up his bare thigh and comes to rest on his hip, fingers digging into Chan’s skin. It makes him whine and squirm.

“We just woke up,” Jisung teases as he rubs his thumb across Chan’s hip bone, “And you’re already getting worked up.”

“I-“ Chan tries but loses all train of thought when Jisung tugs him forward and slots a muscled thigh between Chan’s legs.

His whimper makes him blush harder, his entire face going red as Jisung’s warm breath puffs across his lips. 

“Cute.”

Chan doesn’t even have the forethought to be offended because Jisung kisses him. His moan vibrates in his chest, hands grabbing at Jisung’s shoulders as he licks into Chan’s mouth with practiced ease. Chan gives him access, wiggling his hips against Jisung’s thigh as his cock hardens all the way. 

Jisung kisses him as if he’s going to devour Chan, teeth and tongue exploring every wet centimeter of Chan’s mouth until spit is trailing from the corner of his lips.

He’s breathing hard when Jisung pulls back, a string of spit connecting their mouths that Jisung breaks by rubbing his thumb across Chan’s lips. Jisung’s eyes are burning hot when Chan meets them. It ignites a responding fire inside Chan.

“I think you mentioned something about proving how real I am,” Jisung muses as he wraps a hand around Chan’s cock, giving it a tight squeeze.

Chan bites his lip to stifle his whine but Jisung’s not having it. He tugs Chan’s lip free with a thumb, rubbing the palm of his hand across the head of Chan’s cock so he cries out.

“No,” Jisung tells him firmly, “You don’t get to hide from me anymore, Channie- baby.”

Chan closes his eyes tightly, attempting to hide anyway. The tone Jisung is using has everything in Chan screaming at him to submit, to roll over, and let Jisung do anything to him. Chan wants to, but giving total control over to anyone, even Jisung, has never been easy for him. 

“Look at me,” Jisung tells him, grabbing Chan by the chin so he can’t turn his face away.

The commanding tone has Chan’s cock twitching in Jisung’s hold, giving Chan away instantly. 

He opens his eyes, whimpering at the look on Jisung’s face. He looks stern, commanding in a way Chan only sees from him when someone has pushed his buttons. 

“Good boy.”

Chan whines loudly, wiggling against Jisung as his cock leaks in his hand. 

“Yeah?” Jisung asks, “I know you like being my good boy, Channie. Don’t you?”

Chan nods without thinking and Jisung chuckles darkly.

“Yeah,” Jisung breathes as he strokes Chan’s cock nice and slow so Chan whimpers, “That’s what I thought.”

He leans in to press a lingering kiss to the corner of Chan’s lips, licking a hot stripe up his cheek to his ear. Chan squirms and digs his nails into Jisung’s skin. Jisung keeps the same slow pace as he tugs on Chan’s cock, smearing precum across his length with every pass of his hand. 

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” Jisung whispers in his ear, “Gonna let me make you feel good?”

“ Yes ,“ Chan moans with his eyes squeezed shut.

His hips kick up into Jisung’s hand without his input, trying to get Jisung to move faster, do more , but Jisung tuts at him and Chan falls still instantly. He’s already breathing hard, chest rising and falling in aborted little gasps as Jisung keeps his slow pace. He knows it riles Chan up, that Chan gets desperate quickly, and Chan knows Jisung is using that to his advantage. 

“Good boy,” Jisung praises him and Chan’s cock twitches hard against his palm, “Let me get the lube.”

Chan whines when Jisung releases him. The loss he feels is palpable and it takes everything in him for him not to grab Jisung and keep him in place so he will keep his hands on Chan’s body, but he wants Jisung to fuck him so badly it aches . So, Chan settles for an expectorated whimper.

Jisung comes back to the bed after retrieving lube from his bag in less than a minute but Chan already feels cold. He grabs at Jisung as soon as he’s back under the covers, scooting as close as he can get so the lines of their bodies are pressed together. 

Jisung snorts softly in amusement at Chan’s apparent neediness, but Chan doesn’t even feel embarrassed. He thinks he might die if he can’t feel Jisung against him and he tells Jisung as much in a small voice.

“Okay,” Jisung gives in easily, slotting his thigh back between Chan’s legs so his cock slides along Jisung’s skin, “We can do it just like this.”

Chan nods his head in short, jerky movements, nearly knocking his forehead against Jisung’s chin. Jisung tucks him close so Chan’s head is tucked into the hollow of his throat and Jisung can nuzzle into Chan’s crown of curls.

He shudders as a slick finger traces the curve of one cheek before sliding between them. He doesn’t have time to be annoyed that Jisung didn’t bother to warm the lube because Jisung is already teasing the tip of his finger against Chan’s rim.

His moan vibrates deep in his chest as Jisung works his finger in. Chan tries to relax, hoping to speed up the process, but Jisung seems set on taking his time. 

He slowly works his finger in and out of Chan’s body until he can slide it all the way into the last knuckle. Chan pushes back against his hand, seeking more of the feeling of being full. He whines long and loud when Jisung doesn’t give it to him immediately. 

“Easy, baby,” Jisung murmurs into his hair as he thrusts his finger slowly, rubbing against Chan’s prostate on every pull-out.

Chan wants to argue, but his breath catches when Jisung presses firmly against his sweet spot. He tries to muffle his shocked cry, but Jisung twists the fingers of his free hand in Chan’s hair and forces his head back. 

“I told you you aren’t going to hide from me,” Jisung admonishes him.

There’s a disappointed lit to his voice and it twists Chan’s guts.

“ Please ,“ Chan whimpers, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

He doesn’t know what he’s asking for or why he’s crying but everything feels so overwhelming, so good , and he doesn’t know what to do. Thankfully, Jisung does.

“It’s okay, darling,” Jisung tells him as he presses a kiss under Chan’s chin and thrusts his finger steadily in and out of Chan’s clenching hole, “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chan grabs at Jisung’s biceps, his whines a constant stream of noises as Jisung slowly stretches him out.

He loses track of time through the process. He’s not sure when they get to three fingers and then four, but it’s slow and dragging. Every touch lingers on Chan’s skin, every kiss and bite making him flutter around Jisung’s fingers.

Soft praise and encouragement fill his ears, Jisung whispering to him until Chan is so needy for him that the tears overflow and trail down his cheeks.

“Jisungie, please ,“ Chan begs as Jisung pushes four fingers as deep into Chan’s body as he can get them.

The stretch feels amazing and Chan knows he’s going to need it if they actually want Jisung to even fit , but Chan feels like they’ve been here forever . His cock aches, every brush of Jisung’s fingers against his prostate sending pulses of pleasure through his body and right to his dick.

Jisung’s skin is wet with precum where Chan’s cock touches him; Chan doesn’t think he’s ever been this wet . It smooths the glide and only enhances the pleasure of it all.

“Yeah?” Jisung whispers, voice gone dark with need, “What do you need, baby? Hm? What do you want, Channie?”

Chan shakes in Jisung’s arms. He pushes his hips back so he meets every thrust of Jisung’s fingers, cock dragging along his muscled thigh. He can feel Jisung against his hip, cock just as hard as Chan’s.

“You,” Chan tells him without hesitation, “I need you. Need-“

His sentence breaks off on a gurgled whimper when Jisung thrusts his fingers harder, picking up a little speed as Chan steadily falls apart for him. 

“Say it,” Jisung all but growls against the skin of Chan’s throat, “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuck me!” Chan manages, “ Please ! Wanna feel you inside! Please, Sung-ah. Need you.”

His babbling earns him a harsh thrust of Jisung's fingers and then Jisung is slipping his fingers from Chan's body so he can wrap a hand around Chan's thigh. Lube smears across his skin, but Chan no longer cares.

He lets Jisung pull his leg up until Chan's thigh is draped across Jisung's hip. It spreads Chan far enough that Jisung can fit easily between his thighs. 

Chan whimpers when Jisung’s cock drags across his skin. He shifts his hips, desperately trying to get Jisung inside of him.

“Easy,” Jisung tells him, and Chan whimpers in answer. 

“ Jisungie .”

Chan sounds absolutely wrecked, even to his own ears.

“Shhh, baby,” Jisung tells him softly, lips pressed to Chan’s forehead, “I’m right here. Gonna take care of my baby.”

Chan nods with his eyes squeezed shut, letting Jisung maneuver him until he’s lining his cock up with Chan’s rim.

Chan whimpers when he starts to push in. The thick head of Jisung’s cock feels like it’s splitting Chan open even with all the prep, but Chan relaxes into it, fingers tight on Jisung’s arm.

“Good boy,” Jisung breathes into his ear and it sends a shiver down Chan’s spine.

They both moan when the head finally slips in and Chan’s toes curl it feels so fucking good. Yeah, it aches, but as Jisung pushes deeper, filling Chan to the brim, Chan basks in the feeling. 

No one has ever filled him the way Jisung can, and Chan knows no one else ever will. He doesn’t want them to. If it’s not Jisung’s cock inside of him, then Chan doesn’t want it. Jisung is it for him. He’d realized that long ago.

Jisung bottoms out with a moan, and Chan releases the breath he’d been holding. He goes boneless on the sheets, draping himself across Jisung’s body. 

Jisung huffs against the skin of his neck, shaking his head in amusement even as he gently moves them until Chan is on his back. He manages it without pulling out, and Chan hums happily when he manages to push in even deeper in their new position.

“You’re such a good little doll,” Jisung murmurs to him as he lifts one of Chan’s legs onto his shoulder and pushes the other up so Chan’s knee is nearly touching his chest.

“Yours,” Chan slurs, whimpering when Jisung slowly slides his cock out until just the tip is caught on Chan’s rim.

“Yeah,” Jisung breathes, “You’re mine, baby.”

He thrusts forward hard, jostling Chan on the sheets and punching a guttural moan from him. Jisung pulls out slowly and thrusts back in just as hard, sharp hip bones biting into the plushness of Chan’s ass.

Chan lays pliant on the sheets, content to let Jisung do all the work. Jisung fucks him slow and deep, cock hitting Chan’s sweet spot with every thrust forward. Chan’s little cock smears pre cum across his stomach, bouncing and twitching every time Jisung’s hips meet his.

It’s a lot slower and more tender than usual, but that doesn’t make Chan love it any less. It’s exactly what he needs after last night. It makes him feel wanted and loved. Reassures him that Jisung will always be there to give him whatever he needs, will take care of him how he always has.

Jisung takes his time, fucking into Chan with hard deep thrusts that leave Chan gasping for breath on every pull-out. His fingers bite into the meat of Chan’s thighs, keeping him spread wide open and bent at the perfect angle so Jisung can hit just right inside him.

“So pretty, Channie-baby,” Jisung whispers to him, eyes flitting across Chan’s face and body as he fucks him. 

The praise lights up Chan’s insides the way it always does and he can feel his orgasm twisting inside of him on the next thrust. 

“Close,” Chan whispers, reaching out for Jisung.

Jisung takes his hand and laces their fingers together. His eyes meet Chan’s eyes, hips never slowing in the slow roll he’s set.

“Yeah?” Jisung asks with his lips pressed to the back of Chan’s hand, “Gonna come for me, baby?”

“Mmm hmm,” Chan hums with a small nod.

Chan tightens his grip on Jisung’s hand, eyes fluttering as he lets his orgasm rush over him. It leaves him shaking and even more breathless than before. Jisung’s thrusts slow to a stop, cock buried deep as Chan’s walls flutter around him.

Chan whines when he pulls out, eyes opening to give Jisung an imploring look, but Jisung wraps their entwined fingers around his cock before Chan can verbally protest.

Chan watches as he jerks himself with fast sure strokes. His eyes are glued on Chan’s lower body where cum is cooling on his stomach and starting to drip down his sides. He can feel his hole flutter around nothing stretched wide and gaping from the girth of Jisung’s cock.

“Gonne cum on me, Sung-ah?” Chan asks softly, breath hitching when Jisung moans loudly.

As Chan watches, he speeds up his strokes. Jisung’s eyebrows furrow, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and even like this Chan thinks he’s fucking beautiful. 

“Gonna mark your territory?” Chan says, egging him on and it works perfectly.

Jisung doubles over with a growl, cumming all over Chan’s soft cock and balls. He can feel it dripping hot and thick down his skin and if he could get it up again, he would, but he’s spent.

Jisung almost collapses on top of him, one elbow holding him over Chan as he works himself through the aftershocks. Chan’s clumsy fingers find his messy hair and tugs at him until Jisung gets the idea and leans up to kiss him.

It’s slow and soft, Chan now spent even after a full night's sleep. When Jisung pulls back, Chan doesn’t bother opening his eyes again. Jisung’s chuckle rumbles in his chest, vibrating through Chan.

“Go back to sleep, hyung,” Jisung whispers, pressing a kiss to his nose, “I’ll clean you up. We can sleep in a little longer.”

Chan’s glad Jisung suggested it because he was already planning to. He hums in agreement, settling deeper into the sheets.

If there’s one thing Chan can trust Jisung to do, it’s to take care of him.