Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Chan had come to expect a lot of things from the boys. They had been together for so long, he thought; the past seven years had been long and arduous, exhausting even at the best of times, so how could he not see these things coming? He’d expected it when Jisung and Minho had gotten together, and he’d seen it coming from a mile away when Felix and Changbin first hooked up. Even Jeongin and Seungmin weren’t that much of a surprise, because who else could compliment their chaos if not each other? But he… he wasn’t involved, not just because he was their leader and didn’t think it was proper, but because he just… well, he didn’t really have the time, did he? 

Even when the dating ban was up—not that any of them had cared about that anyway, saying something about how it didn’t count if they were dating in their own group—, he never sought anyone out; how could he be a good partner to anyone if he was so preoccupied with taking care of his boys and building their career and everything? He just didn’t have the excess energy, y’know? And it wasn’t like he was the only one, so he didn’t feel bad about it! Hyunjin kept to himself, too! Of course he did. Hyunjin was… he was gorgeous, obviously, and he was always, constantly receiving propositions from people who may or may not be good enough for him; it wasn’t Chan’s place to make that sort of judgment, but he did know that Hyunjin’s love life was about as uneventful as his own. So, no, he wasn’t the only member who wasn’t dating, and on the rare occasion that he had a silent moment that stretched on long enough for him to think about it, he found that it was something of a comfort.

Until it wasn’t, because suddenly Hyunjin went from no partners to… Jisung as a partner? Was that right?

Listen. It really wasn’t any of Chan’s business, and if the boys wanted him involved, they’d come to him and tell him about it, right? So he didn’t say anything the first time he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of Hyunjin kissing Jisung in the kitchen. Jisung wouldn’t cheat on Minho, so there had to be some sort of arrangement here. And it wasn’t Chan’s place to start asking questions about what it was, even though he was boiling with curiosity. How could he not? He’d known these guys for so long now, known that the existing couples would become couples before the boys themselves had—obviously it felt strange when something new happened that he hadn’t been able to predict! Maybe he should've seen it coming. Maybe he was losing his edge. Maybe they were keeping more secrets from him because they were getting tired of his interference. Maybe…

And then it happened again when he passed by Hyunjin’s room one night, his door wide open, and saw Felix sitting on Hyunjin’s lap at his desk. He forced himself to keep walking, of course; he wasn’t going to just stop and watch, but it was impossible to not notice that they were actively making out. A million questions nipped at Chan’s heels on his way back to his room, including but not limited to: Did it not matter that Changbin was in the apartment right then? Did Changbin know what was going on? Surely he did, right? But then, why wasn’t Changbin with them if this was, like, a thing? What about Jisung? Was Hyunjin not joining them as a throuple like Chan had initially assumed? What was he…?

Over the next couple of months, Chan watched from afar as Hyunjin made the rounds. One by one, the boys all fell into line—whatever that line was for. All Chan knew was that it involved making out with Hyunjin and grabbing his ass and names moaned behind closed doors, and he wasn't involved.

Maybe it was on him for only paying attention to Hyunjin, or maybe it was just that Hyunjin was the only one bold enough to cross those lines in plain view, but it was jarring for Chan to see Minho and Felix together for the first time as they shared a deep kiss while Minho made dinner. It was the last straw, actually. Chan texted Felix that night, laying awake in bed mulling over everything he’d seen lately, and waited.

Chan

Hey, look, nobody’s talked to me about it, so I know it doesn’t really concern me, but… what’s going on with everyone? I don’t understand. 

Lixie

Hm? Wym?

Chan

The… kissing. You’re all getting involved with each other and I don’t really get it.

Lixie

Oh, that? You mean nobody talked to you about it already?

Chan

Not at all. Were you guys just waiting for me to figure it out on my own?

Lixie

No, I don’t think so? I could’ve sworn someone would’ve mentioned it already… but, I mean… it’s hard to explain, but it just feels right! Hyunjin brought it up to begin with, the idea of it being all of us together, and it just kinda happened from there. It’s impossible to say no to him >w<

You don’t think it’s weird, right? We’d hate to make you uncomfortable ;;

Chan

Oh, no, no, I’m not uncomfortable with it, I was just confused! Nobody said anything about you guys going poly so I was like “???? why are those two…????”

But that makes sense, I thought it had to be something like that that I just hadn’t heard about. No worries!

Lixie

I really thought someone would’ve mentioned it to you by now… that’s weird

I can ask around and see why nobody said anything! I mean, I thought you knew, so

Chan

It’s not a big deal, really. It just slipped your minds, I’m sure. I’m not worried about it, I was just curious. Don’t bother.

Lixie

You’re sure?

Chan

For sure. It’s alright. Thanks, Lix.

Lixie

Yeah, of course! Lmk if you need anything, though!! 

And get some sleep! It’s getting late! You need to rest <3

Chan

Yeah, yeah. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.

Lixie

Gnight!

He did not, in fact, go to bed. He actually got out of bed and wandered over to his desk, to his laptop, and next thing he knew, it was three hours later and he was shoving the first draft of a new track into a folder somewhere in his documents. It was loud and obnoxious, a little tumultuous, and he got the feeling he’d never open the track again; it would just remind him of all the crazy emotions he was feeling as he’d worked on it. 

It wasn’t that he was upset with the boys. He wanted them to be happy, of course, first and foremost. They were his top priority at this point in his life; everything else came second. If being with each other, all of them, no lines and no boundaries, was what made them happy? He’d support them until the very end, whatever end that was. But, seriously, what the fuck? It had made sense when he’d thought it was, like, a couple random threesome arrangements; it would’ve really had nothing to do with him if Minho and Jisung or Changbin and Felix had decided that they wanted Hyunjin in their bed with them. He’d understood it, too! Hyunjin was a stunner, and he was single, and he was irresistible on every level. Of course the guys would want him to join them for a romp now and then, if he was willing. Even Chan… look, he was a man, okay? He was a red-blooded pansexual man who wasn’t getting laid—because he didn’t have time to build a relationship and refused to be the type who went out just to meet someone to have sex with, thank you!—and had functioning eyeballs, so could anyone blame him if he looked over at Hyunjin every now and then, panting and dripping with sweat after a performance, and wondered if he looked like that in bed, too?

A!ny!way!

That wasn’t the point! The point was that he’d spent all this time trying to build an environment where the boys could feel comfortable telling him anything, anytime, so why hadn’t anyone even mentioned that they were doing this polycule thing now? All they had to do was say, Yeah, I’m going on a date with guy-who-isn’t-my-original-boyfriend, and Chan would’ve been able to figure it out from there! And it wouldn’t have been a big deal! He was sure he had never done anything that would give them the impression that he’d think it was weird, so… why hadn’t they… 

It was so frustrating.

If there was anything he was good at, it was channeling all his stupid emotions into a noisy-ass track that may or may not ever see the light of day. As he closed his laptop, he thought that he didn’t want this one going anywhere. How would he explain it to anyone? Oh, this? I made this when I was stressing over whether my friends trusted me enough to tell me they’d gone poly, y’know how it is. Get real. God, he was a fucking idiot! And why hadn’t they told him? Why had he had to ask? It was all just… he didn’t understand.

He got back in bed after that, but he didn’t go to sleep for a long time.

*

The longer it went on, the more time Chan had to think as they spent more and more time in each other's arms and less time next to him. Most of that thinking was about them and their new situation; he lived with them, after all. His entire world revolved around them—it had since the moment since he'd settled on the final lineup and taken all of the boys in under his proverbial wing. From the moment he woke up in the morning to the moment he finally went to sleep at night, he was thinking about them and how he could do best by them. They'd saved him, and they knew it. He knew they did, because he'd told them. They knew how much he adored them. But… no, they didn't seem to understand just how deeply his feelings for them actually ran. 

That, or they didn't care.

And the more time he had to think, the more he was beginning to feel like the latter was the case. 

It hadn't bothered him when they'd all paired up to begin with and he'd been single. Each individual couple matched each other in ways that he simply couldn't, and there was nothing wrong with that. He couldn't be to Jisung what Minho was, or Changbin to Felix, or Seungmin to Jeongin—and when they were the only two left, despite all the things they had in common, Chan had known better than to think for even a second that he could be anywhere near good enough for Hyunjin. He made his peace with it and he carried on. But now? Now? Now he was coming home and finding Changbin trying to pull Jeongin into his lap and Jeongin making minimal fuss about it before letting it happen, before accepting the affection with the look of an irritated cat on his face, and Chan felt like he was being dangled by his feet off the top of the Lotte World Tower.

He could never get away with that.

He'd climb into an empty bed again that night, and he'd wonder—was this why they'd never told him? Because they'd thought that, if he knew, he'd have the nerve to want some of that affection for himself? If that was it… they were right. When they'd just been a collection of individual couples, it had been possible to get away from people being all lovey-dovey when he started feeling depressed about how he actually wished that one of them, any of them, had looked his way, even once. And now it wasn't. It was impossible to get away from unless he was all by himself, and it hurt. 

This was divine retribution, wasn't it? It was some sort of cosmic payback for not keeping himself under control. He'd met them and they'd done more for him than he could ever repay them for, and he'd let his guard down—so far down that he hadn't even realized how badly he wanted to be important to them until it was much, much too late. He'd fucked up. He'd wished for more than he deserved, thought that it would be nice to be more important than he was, and now he was right back to square one: Surrounded by people, sure, but did any of them really want him there? Or was he just slightly too useful to get rid of yet?

He was the only one that none of them wanted, after all. So surely… one day… 

He was replaceable, wasn't he? Maybe they'd find someone new, someone they liked more, and they'd pursue him instead—someone who wasn't as irritating to them as Chan was, someone they'd actually enjoy cuddling up to, someone they'd find attractive… 

He'd fall asleep at night wishing he was better, and the next morning would arrive before he knew it. The group would go have some interview or another, interrupting his self-pitying thoughts, and he'd feel okay for a little bit. He'd forget how he was being excluded at home, if only because they'd praise him for working so hard for them. Of course he was working hard for them! He'd never stop working hard for them, how could he? He'd bleed himself dry if they needed him to, no questions asked, so he always felt a little awkward in front of those cameras when the boys would say stuff about how he made such good songs for them and how he was always there for them and blah, blah, blah…

Wasn't that just… normal? What else would he do? 

So he diverted as much of the attention away from himself as he could. Point the cameras back at the boys, please, they're the real stars! he thought. They're the beautiful ones, the talented ones—I'm only here because of them, so keep your eyes on them, not me. He'd always point the question back to someone else if he saw a chance, always talk about one of the others; there wasn't anything particularly interesting about him anyway, really, so why sit there and talk about himself? Nobody really wanted to hear about him , right? They just wanted to hear about him in relation to the others, what their dynamics were like. Just because he was the leader and one of their producers and all didn't mean he was special. So, anyway, he went out with Jisung the other day, and Jisung did this thing…

And then the interview would be over, they'd go back home, and he'd be on his own again. They'd all cram into the living room of one apartment to order delivery food and watch a movie, and he'd be surrounded by his favorite people in the world, but he'd still be alone. They wouldn't… they wouldn't crawl into his lap, or throw an arm around his shoulders, or hold his hand, or lay their heads on him to rest. It didn't make a difference whether he was there or not, did it? They wouldn't even notice if he got up and left. In fact, it might be better if he did, just so they'd have more room to hang all over each other without him getting in the way. No, it would be better if he left the room, because then he wouldn't be the unsightly one they had to put up with as they ate together, the one that just kept eating and eating and eating… 

They only teased Changbin because he liked to graze so much throughout the day. But Chan? He knew how he must look, sitting there to eat triple the food of a regular person all at once. They must just be waiting for him to get old and lose the energy he had to work out, because once he stopped going to the gym, it was all over for him. Goodbye, six-pack; hello, dad bod. 

God, and he was really counting on his body to win someone's— anyone's —attention. It wasn't like his face was gonna do it.

He only ate half of his dinner before retreating to his room for the night. None of the boys followed him, of course; why would they? It was selfish to think that they paid enough attention to him to notice he was upset. It was selfish to cry when he heard them all laughing together down the hall, having a regular great time without him. He didn't want to think they were putting on a show for the cameras when they talked about admiring him; they were all such genuinely good people—he wouldn't have fallen for them otherwise!—, it felt wrong to even consider that they could do something like that. But time dragged on and nobody came to check on him—not even a peek through the doorway—and Chan's bed was so, so cold… 

Did they really think anything of him?

It had been true when he'd said that he didn't pursue romantic relationships outside of the group because he didn't have the time to devote to getting to know a new person.

It was also true that he didn't want to devote that time to anyone, not when he'd already decided that he'd be happy for his entire life with any of the boys.

What an idiot. Who did he think he was? To hope that any of them would sink to his level, just because he was a dumbass who couldn't control his feelings… he really had let himself get too comfortable. He'd convinced himself that they weren't going to reject him the way he'd spent all those trainee years being rejected, and where had it gotten him? Sure, he was making money now, and sure, he wasn't afraid of breaking some tiny little rule somewhere and getting sent home, but… but he was still alone. He was still just… kinda… there. 

He wanted to wake up in their arms, for their grumbly morning voices to tell him to go back to sleep as a pair of lips brushed his forehead. He just—god damn it, was he always going to have to live like this? Longing for things he couldn't have? It must be so nice, he thought, to hear one of those voices say I love you and it not be a joke for a reality program.

But as another round of laughter went up in the living room, he knew what the truth was: There was no space for him, not really. He was just the human equivalent of some household object that didn't spark joy but was useful to keep the home functional, so it got shoved under the kitchen sink where no one would see it until it was needed. And when the object broke, it would be thrown away and replaced with a new one; there was no point in trying to fix something that no one in the house had any sentimental attachment to.

He just wondered… when the time finally came—and he was certain it would; he'd wear out his welcome eventually, he just knew it—who would they replace him with?

*

Chan had known it was a mistake, but when some backup performer asked him to go out for drinks, he’d said yes. It wasn’t like the guys would miss his company that evening, after all; they had each other to keep their company, so they didn’t need him mulling around the apartment and being all… pathetic. And the thing was, he wasn’t going to get in trouble for it—he was of-age and most of the restrictions on him had been lifted already on account of the group’s success, so as long as the bar he found himself in was appropriately staffed, it wasn’t a big deal. The guy who’d asked him out understood that, so they’d gone to a normal fucking bar with both male and female waitstaff, the kind of place that anyone would go to on a night out. It was all above-board, so… why did he feel so fucking guilty about it?

Because he loved the boys at home, of course. Because he wanted the man across from him to be one of his boys, not just some guy. He was wasting this man’s time by entertaining him, giving him hope for something that wouldn’t happen because Chan was already in love with someone else—

—but then the guy gave him a smile and told him how pretty his lips were, and Chan’s train of thought pulled to a halt. People didn’t usually tell him that, not if they weren’t, like, fans on Twitter or something. “You… think so?” he asked, hesitantly, unsure whether he’d heard correctly. “I mean, they’re—”

“—They’re really pretty, Chan,” the man said, leaning forward a little on the table. “Why do you look so surprised? I heard your members are always saying how sexy you are.”

Chan shook his head. “That’s… I mean, they’re just talking about how I work out. I don’t think they mean anything to do with my face, really.” He was still wearing the remnants of the  day’s makeup; he supposed it made him look more handsome than he usually was, so of course this guy would have an easier time complimenting him than the members would. The members knew what he was like at home, just regular Chan, no makeup and no effort—and he knew that it wasn’t anything remarkable. “But I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“You don’t sound like you believe me.”

“I mean… I just don’t really see it, that’s all.”

“Hmm.” He reached over towards Chan, and though Chan really didn’t want anyone touching him but his boys, he didn’t pull away as that hand rested atop one of his own. “Sounds like they’re not complimenting you enough, if you don’t see it. You’re pretty.” Hah… It wasn’t like they had time to compliment him; they were too busy with their relationships, though he couldn’t say it. Why would they waste their time trying to convince him that he wasn’t an eyesore when they could be using that time on kissing each other? He started to shake his head, and the man squeezed his hand. “Do you have anything planned tonight? Why don’t you come back to my place with me? I can catch you up on at least some of the praise you’ve been missing out on.”

Oh. That was… Chan could feel himself blushing; when was the last time he’d been propositioned? Maybe he should’ve seen it coming; random people wouldn’t take him out to a bar if they didn’t have some sort of ulterior motive, right? But it felt all sorts of weird to actually hear it said. And, anyway, he wasn’t that sort of guy! He wasn’t interested in doing this sort of thing! He’d only agreed to come out with him because he’d been lonely and thought it would be better than looking stupid and miserable at home, and now he was racking his brains for some polite way to say, Sorry, I don’t sleep with people I don’t know. 

Then again… well, was it such a bad idea? If nobody at home wanted him, what was the point in keeping the torch burning? Shouldn’t he work on moving on? He could… he could try to meet people, try to… 

“I’m not the kind of person who does this sort of thing,” he said, fully aware of how pathetic it must sound. “If I go with you, I can’t promise anything will actually happen.”

“Oh? That’s alright. We can take it easy. Nice and slow, whatever you want. I’d just hate for you to spend the whole night alone. Even if we don’t do anything, at least you’d have some company. God, you’re so pretty, Chan. I just wanna look at you all night.”

It was sweet talk to disarm him and he knew it. He knew it, but… but he nodded anyway, because sitting on someone’s couch and letting them sweet talk him all night was better than laying in his empty bed and feeling sorry for himself while he knew there was a ninety percent chance someone was getting laid in the room next to his. As long as he stayed true to himself, it would be fine. He wouldn’t do anything that felt really wrong, he told himself as they crawled into a rideshare and headed to an apartment building Chan had driven past a few times and never thought anything of. As long as he listened to his gut, everything would be fine. Just because his brain was telling him this was a mistake didn’t mean it really was, right? Brains had a funny way of overreacting to anything outside of the ordinary—at least, his sure did—so this was probably just his latent anxieties making themselves heard. The next morning when he woke up totally fine, he’d be able to look back and laugh at himself for being so easily freaked out. It was fine.

He followed the man to his apartment and let himself be ushered inside. “You want something to drink?” the man asked, and Chan realized how much of a dick he was; he hadn’t even remembered this guy’s name, and now he was in his apartment agreeing to a cup of coffee. God, what had he said his name was? Jae… no, Ji… or was it Eun… or was it Su…? Fuck, fuck! But he was sure the man’s family name had been Choi, so he could just call him that in his head, right? Even though it felt so impersonal and mean… 

“You can relax a little,” Choi said as he handed Chan a mug and sat down next to him on the couch. “You look so nervous. Seriously, I’m not gonna force you into anything.”

Chan wondered whether he’d even need to be forced, though, and that worried him. He liked to think he was stubborn enough to stay true to himself no matter what, but he was already here when he’d thought he’d never end up at someone’s house on the first date—if it had been a date—and he was clearly desperate for affection, so… so would he really put a stop to it if it came down to it? If they started kissing, would he be able to put that hand up between them and push the other man away? Or would he just let himself be led into a situation he’d regret, if only to feel a few moments of someone’s undivided attention? 

He let out a small sigh. “I just…”

Choi reached over and ran his fingers through Chan’s hair, a simple motion that made Chan melt a little. “You really don’t do this, do you?” he asked. “I wondered if maybe you were just trying to maintain your image, but… I guess you really are the good boy type, aren’t you?”

Chan’s fingers instinctively tightened around the mug he held. Hah. Good boy, huh? He wished he could hear different voices saying that to him under different circumstances, but wouldn’t they hate him if they knew? He’d heard it murmured between them in passing a time or two, a good boy when Jisung came running to Minho’s call or when Felix did, like, literally anything for anyone, and he’d felt so horrible for wanting it for himself. What sort of person was he to hear something like that and wish they’d say it to him, too? To wish that he’d get a pat on the butt and a good boy, Channie when he brought some water into Seungmin’s room while he was practicing singing by himself? Wouldn’t they think he was a disgusting pervert if they knew that the idea of them whispering aren’t you such a good boy? in his ear got him all worked up?

He stared down at the mug, not sure what to say. Then, “I was a trainee for a really long time, y’know? So I got used to following all the rules to the letter. Things like this… I know I’m allowed nowadays, but I never could have in the past. It’s hard to adjust to.”

“But you’ve worked so hard, haven’t you? You’re allowed to have a little fun in your downtime.” Chan willed himself not to jump out of his skin when Choi rested a hand on his thigh. “We talk, y’know. The performers. I’ve never heard anyone say a single bad thing about you. It’s always, Bang Chan is so polite, so respectful, pays so much attention to people… You’re a really good guy, aren’t you? So just relax, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Chan smiled softly and looked up at him. “Really? You guys talk about me?”

“Of course. We’ve got a community the same way you idols do.” Choi shrugged. “We’re always gossipping about whether we like working with a certain group or not. I bet you guys are always talking about the different TV show producers you like or dislike, right? Same thing.”

Right. That made sense. But, still, to think that people were talking about him… “But, seriously? You’re talking about me? The boys are way more—”

“—We talk about them too, when it’s relevant,” Choi cut him off, “but we really like you, y’know? You’re incredible. And you’re so, so fuckin’ pretty.”

That just didn’t sound right, though. Why would they be talking about him when they could be talking about Felix? Or Hyunjin? Or literally any of the rest of them? He wouldn’t dare actually rank the boys, of course, but if there was a one-to-eight ranking of how worthy they were of being talked about, he’d put all of them at a tie for number one and himself down at number eight. There was no point in talking about him. He wasn’t actually pretty—he just looked good on stage because the stylist noonas were actual goddesses. He didn’t deserve any special credit for being respectful, either; he just… he was nice to people because it was the right thing to do. He didn’t want anything in return. It didn't make him special. 

“I’m really not,” he muttered, lifting the mug to his lips to take a long drink. “I just exist.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“What?”

“Maybe you don’t think the way you are is anything special, but it makes a difference to the people around you. So isn’t your existence enough?”

Okay, what the hell? Wasn’t this guy just supposed to be trying to get into Chan’s pants right now? What was his deal? Why was he being so… nice? It was too much! Chan wasn’t sure what to do or say or think about it. But maybe this was just Choi’s strategy to win people over? If it was, it was one hell of a strategy! It left Chan speechless, a little frozen, a lot overwhelmed.

The hand on his thigh gently squeezed, and Chan was snapped back to his present reality.

“Are the boys not nice enough to you?” Choi asked, and he suddenly seemed a lot closer than he had a moment ago. “Do they really not tell you enough how good you are? We can all see it. Do they not? Or do they just take it for granted?” He lifted his hand to carefully take Chan’s mug from his hands, delivering it to the coffee table before leaning back and putting his hand on Chan’s thigh again. What had been the point in getting him a drink if he was just going to take it away at some point? Then again, Chan didn’t really know how these things were supposed to go, so… Choi’s breath was hot against his ear as he said, “There are rumors about your group. People think that you guys are all… y’know, with each other. Is that not the case?”

Chan’s stomach twisted hard. He couldn’t afford to say anything that may expose them; he couldn’t get them into trouble when he loved them so much. He refused to. But when he was asked a direct question like that, he didn’t like lying, either. “I can’t say anything for the rest of them,” he said carefully, “because I don’t get involved with their love lives, but… no, it’s not the case for me.”

Choi made some odd noise of disbelief. “Seriously? You mean they’ve been living with you all this time and none of them have tried to—?” He trailed off as Chan shook his head. Chan really didn’t need it said aloud; he was already fully aware of his situation. How ridiculous was it that they’d been all over each other all this time and none of them had ever approached him, even if it was just for one night? Even if it was just for five minutes? Was he that undesirable? 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Choi’s lips brushed his jawline. 

“They don’t know what they have,” he murmured against Chan’s skin, “if they’re passing you over. It’d be an honor to suck you off in an alley, nevermind going to bed with you. What the fuck are they on?”

Chan’s hands tightened into fists in his lap. People didn’t speak to him like that. They weren’t so… crude. Did he actually think that? That was so… debasing, and he was saying it would be an honor? Chan knew he must’ve been so red in the face it was pathetic. “I—I mean—”

He shivered as Choi purposefully kissed him, a warm pressure on the side of his neck. His hand slid a little further up Chan’s thigh, a little closer to—

“You’re so fucking hot, Chan, seriously. Why don’t you let me show you?”

Chan was up on his feet before he even decided to move. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I just—I can’t—I’m flattered, really, but—”

Choi sighed. “But there’s someone else, isn’t there?” he asked. “I guess I could be wrong, but I really don’t think you’re turning me down just because you think sex is special, or whatever. I think you’re holding back because you’re holding out for someone else.”

Chan’s silence answered for him.

“I see.” Choi chuckled, then reached out to grab Chan’s wrist. It was a gentle hold, nothing forceful or aggressive; it was just enough to get Chan to look back down at him. “It’s one of your boys, right? Or all of them?” He raised a curious eyebrow, but didn’t push. “But why? If they don’t treat you the way you deserve, why bother holding out for them? You could have anyone you wanted if you tried, you really could.”

Chan didn’t really believe that, but… anyway, did it matter? “I can’t help it,” he said helplessly. “They mean everything to me. I… want them to want me, whether it’s realistic or not. I’m sorry to waste your time.”

Choi brought Chan’s hand up to his lips to press another kiss to his fingers, humming softly as he did. “I can’t hold that against you. But, hey, if you’re gonna leave, can I at least get your number? Let me give you mine? I don’t mind if you don’t text me right away, but you could keep it until you’re ready to move on. I’ll be around.”

Chan couldn’t help but smile. It was embarrassing and awkward, this whole thing, and he was pretty sure the right thing to do here was to say no, to say that he wasn’t ever going to move on and it wasn’t fair to leave this guy in suspense waiting for a text that would never come, but, well, could he say that with any certainty? There was every possibility that one day he’d get just frustrated and lonely enough that he’d want to call someone to keep him company through a long night. And why shouldn’t he? And why shouldn’t it be someone like this, someone kind and understanding of what he was going through? 

He nodded in agreement and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. “Okay,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Guilt hit him like a train as he tapped his screen to wake his phone up out of sleep mode and was confronted with a wall of notifications. He’d put his phone on silent before he’d headed out to meet Choi, and he hadn’t told anyone where he was going, so… the boys must’ve been confused when he wasn’t home and just… kept being not home. He swallowed hard as he glanced over some of them. Hyung, where are you? and Are you okay? Please text one of us, landed harder than the guys probably meant for them to. It was stupid, wasn’t it, that just those few messages were enough to make him feel secure in his decision to go home? To go back to them, even if they didn’t want him the way he wanted them? 

He opened his contacts app and handed his phone over to Choi, grateful for this chance to get to know his actual fucking name. He looked over the contact info as he took his phone back; ah, so that was it. It had been a Su name after all. He smiled, said goodnight, and headed for home.

-

They were waiting for him.

As soon as he opened the apartment door, he was met with a chorus of, “Hyung!” “Chan!” “Chris!” A small body went flying towards him and slammed against his chest, Felix burying his face in Chan’s shirt. “Where were you?” he asked. “We were worried about you!”

Ah… Chan was so, so very weak. He reached up to ruffle Felix’s pretty blond hair, a gentle smile on his face. “I’m okay,” he said. “I just went out for a bit.”

“Yeah, but where? ” Minho asked. “You don’t usually ditch us like that.” When Chan hesitated—and probably blushed, knowing him—, Minho’s eyebrows shot up. “Were you with someone?”

Every set of eyes in the room was already on him, but somehow or another, it felt even more intense after that question left Minho’s mouth. Even Felix pulled back a little bit to look up at him with a concerned expression. “Hyung? You weren’t, were you?”

Jisung chuckled awkwardly. “No way, right? He’s not like that.”

“But he was gone for a long time,” Seungmin said, suspicion lacing every word. “And he didn’t come home with any snacks, so I don’t think he went shopping.”

Frustration boiled up in his chest. What the fuck was this about? They didn’t want him, so what gave them the right to look so horrified at the concept that someone else might? He’d come back without doing anything because he loved them, and they were looking at him like he’d done something wrong by even considering staying the night with someone! Did they hate him that fucking much? They hated him so much that they couldn’t stand the idea of anyone touching him, no matter who it was? So he just didn’t deserve anything? He couldn’t even have a stranger grab his ass? He bit his tongue so hard he wondered whether he was going to bleed into his own mouth.

“I was just hanging out with one of the performers we worked with recently,” he said after taking a deep breath, fighting hard to keep his voice steady and his expression neutral, even though he felt like he was about to have some kind of meltdown. “Nothing happened, we’re just friends. I forgot to check my phone, that's all. I’m sorry I worried you guys. I didn’t think you’d really… notice.”

Hyunjin pouted in that perfect way of his. “You… thought we wouldn’t notice that you were just gone and not answering us? What the hell?”

Well, sure, it sounded ridiculous when he said it, but he was the pretty one they all liked, so… 

“Anyway,” Chan said as he carefully extracted himself from Felix's grasp, though it pained him to do so, “I'm home, and I'm fine. I'll… be more careful next time.”

He could feel them watching him as he retreated down the hall.

*

Chan could've just melted into that stupid practice room couch, as tired as he was. He'd barely slept last night—like usual, he supposed—and now he was in the midst of expending what little energy he had on this dance practice. But the others were evidently similarly worn out from practice; someone paused the playlist, and a collective groan of relief went up as half the members just sat themselves down on the floor. 

Cute. God, they were so fucking cute. 

The ones who remained standing were, of course, the danceracha boys. They gravitated towards each other as everyone took a minute to catch their collective breath, standing around with their arms crossed or hands shoved in their pockets as they discussed that one tricky part of the choreo that they just weren't sure about. It was a group issue, really, so Chan didn't feel too bad about eavesdropping on this sort of thing; they were wondering whether there was any way to make a particular move easier without lessening the impact of it in the performance, but they weren't making any progress. 

Then Hyunjin looked over to Chan and asked, “Chris, what do you think?”

Huh?

There must've been a dumbfounded expression on his face, because Hyunjin chuckled and said, “You're obviously listening. Do you have any ideas? If we can't think of something, I'm sure you can.”

Oh. Uh. Well. Chan cleared his throat and shook his head. “No, no, that's—that's all you guys’ arena, isn't it? I'm not a choreographer. I wouldn't be able to help.”

Hyunjin gave him one of those looks, a little sassy and irritated, but a little concerned at the same time. “You have so much experience, though. I'm sure you've seen or heard of something .”

Ah, yes. The experience. The literal years of month after lonely month spent wondering why his efforts were never good enough, and now… he knew he was taking everything a little too personally, maybe a little too far, but… he broke eye contact and instead stared hard at the reflection of his shoes on the mirror wall across the room from him. Sure, sure, he'd been at the company longest, but that didn't mean he was the best at anything. And didn't they hate it when he tried to give them advice anyway? They thought he was an irritating old man, bitching about kids these days not practicing the way they did when he first joined the company or whatever; he wouldn't even be surprised to find a group chat on their phones where he was the only missing member and they only used it to complain about how fucking annoying he'd been during practice or recording or—

“ Hyung! ” Hyunjin practically shouted, startling Chan out of his thoughts. “Hey, are you okay? What are you zoning out like that for?”

It wasn't like any of them actually wanted to hear anything he had to say anyway, so… 

When he hesitated for a beat too long, Felix came over to the couch and plopped down next to him. Those pretty eyes stared hard at him, even as Felix so, so very gently wrapped his arms around Chan’s shoulders. Hah… the others wouldn't fucking touch him, but at least Chan could get a hug from Felix without him throwing a fit about it. Everyone else… they… they hated it, right? They hated when he touched them. They were always shoving him off or squirming away, always making fun of him for being clingy when they'd just smile and wholeheartedly accept it if the same came from Felix. But Felix was, well, Felix, so that made sense. Felix was an angel, inhumanly perfect, impossible to hate—and hadn't people always hated Chan? He remembered when he first came here, the way some of the other trainees looked at him like he was a waste of a bed, and… really, had anything actually changed?

Felix asked, “Channie, hey, what's going on?”

But what was Chan supposed to say? I know how much you all fucking hate me and wish I'd leave, but I can't because I'm in love with you ? Yeah, right! He'd rather get hit by one of the KTX trains at full speed. 

Instead, he just wet his lips and said, “Nothing, nothing. I'm just… tired.”

“Bullshit,” Jisung called from across the room. He was sprawled out on his back on the hardwood floor, limbs all askew in a position that didn't look comfortable but evidently was, lifting only his head as he spoke. “You’re normally super talkative, but you’ve been really withdrawn lately. What's up with you?”

If I talk too much, it's only a matter of time before I crack and tell you how I really feel.

“Really, it's nothing. Just… thinking, I guess?”

“About what? Let us help, if it's this fucking important.”

You don't actually want to help me. You just want me to stop bringing the mood down. I'm always being a burden on you guys, aren't I? I'm sorry.

“It’s… not that important, really.”

Changbin chimed in, “Like hell it isn't, if it's got you acting like this.”

What does it matter? Aren't you all glad I'm finally shutting up and not bothering you? 

Jeongin sat up from where he'd laid down, not even bothering to adjust the strands of hair that had gone so far out of their usual places. “You’re always on our asses about not bottling things up. What makes you think we’re just gonna let you do it?”

Because you don't actually give a shit!

At least, he'd… thought that he only thought that last one. But when an uncomfortable silence stretched on for too long and he actually looked around at all their faces, the shock written there implied that he'd fucked up and said it. 

Oh boy. 

The silence stretched on for an agonizing eternity before Felix finally asked, “Wh… Why do you think that, Chan?”

What, he didn't even get the privilege of being Channie anymore now that he'd called them out? Fine. Fair. He understood. No more point in keeping up appearances if they knew that he knew, right? It didn't matter. Hot, burning tears pricked at his eyes as his breath caught in his throat. As long as he'd kept it to himself that he knew, he'd been safe. Everything had been fine. The delicate balance was maintained, and nobody would abandon him. 

But now… if they all knew that he knew how they really felt, it was over, wasn't it? Everything he'd worked for until now, gone in an instant. They'd leave the room one by one until he was the only one left, they'd block his number and only talk to him when they had to for group shit, and he'd be just that—the unwanted member of the group, nothing more. He should've known it was too good to be true. He should've fucking known that he was only setting himself up for this! Really! Those seven? Those beautiful, incredible people? Of course they wouldn't want… of course they'd… of course…

“I'm sorry,” he choked out, “for loving you all so much.”

It wasn't an answer to Felix's question, but he didn't really need one, did he? They knew. They understood. They—

“Dumbass, what are you talking about? We love you too,” Minho said with a half-scoff, coming over to sit on Chan's other side. “Do you need to go on meds again or something?”

What? No. He should've known someone would throw that back in his face eventually, the meds he'd taken briefly as a teen when his serotonin production was… uh… well, nonexistent. But he was capable of producing serotonin these days, thank you very much! He wasn't depressed again, he just… he knew what they must be thinking of him all the time, how much they must wish all his useful traits were in someone less annoying's body so he could just fuck off and stop weighing them down, how nobody took anything he said seriously and nobody thought his jokes were funny and they all thought he was hideous and they all wanted to scrub their skin raw whenever he had the absolute fucking nerve to touch them and—

—okay, so… so maybe he wasn't doing too well. 

“I'm always being a burden to you,” he said, wanting more than just a little bit to punch himself in the throat with the hope that it would make his voice stop wavering. “No matter what I do, I… I'm never gonna be enough for you.”

Seungmin’s pretty puppydog face appeared directly in Chan’s line of sight, blocking his view of his shoes. “Nobody ever said that, though,” he said. “Didn't we talk about this once? About not assuming things people haven't said, I mean.”

Sure, they did, but that was a long time ago—that was a conversation he'd had with some of the younger ones when he caught them lingering too long in YouTube comments sections they shouldn't have been in, a crime of which he, himself, was also very guilty. But he wanted to protect them, at least, so he'd tried. 

Anyway, “You don't have to say it for me to know it.” Those first few tears spilled over, tracing hot tracks down his cheeks. God. They already thought he was terrible to look at, and now here he was, probably red-faced and puffy as he'd tried to keep from crying, now certainly red-eyed and about to be snotty as he did cry. What a fucking pussy-ass bitch. No wonder they didn't fucking respect him. If he was any of them… he wouldn't want himself around, either. But as long as he was ruining everything, he might as well get it all out on the table. “I mean, you're all—you—you all love each other, and I… I'm the one none of you ever wanted. I get it. I'm sorry that I—I'm always in the way.”

Seungmin moved just enough for Hyunjin to come stalking over, towering over Chan's slouched figure. He didn't say anything as he exchanged glances with Felix and Minho, but they seemed to be sharing some unspoken message anyway; those two made a little bit more room on either side of Chan, and before he even had a chance to pity himself, Hyunjin’s knees were on either side of Chan’s hips as he settled down onto his lap.

That, at least, got Chan to stop sniffling like a bitch—even if it was only because of his sheer confusion. He swallowed hard and barely managed to ask, “What are you…?”

Hyunjin put his hands up on Chan's shoulders. “You’re wrong.”

“What?”

“You think we don't want you? You're wrong. But you—you're always saying you don't have time, right?”

Huh? “That—That doesn't apply to you, ” Chan said. “I'm always going to have time for you guys.”

Hyunjin's concerned expression morphed into something that wasn't quite a pout, but wasn't quite irritated either; it was a new sort of frustration that Chan hadn't seen before, and the fact that he couldn't quite name it made him feel a little sick. If he'd fucked this up even worse than he'd thought—

“So you mean to tell me that we could've had you this entire goddamn time?” Hyunjin asked, barely above a whisper. “All that was stopping us was a huge fucking miscommunication? ”

The gears in Chan's head were screeching as they attempted to turn. Were they… on the same page? It was sounding like Hyunjin was saying that they did want him, but how could they? They'd never acted like they did! If they really wanted him, surely they would've at least implied it, right? But they never—

—Oh.

Wait.

“Is that why you're always trying to pull my shirt off?” Chan asked just as quietly. He'd thought it was only meaningless fanservice, but now that he thought about it… the way they'd gang up on him for it…

A smile spread across Hyunjin’s perfect lips. “Oh, Chris, ” he sighed. 

And then those lips were on Chan’s, and it felt like his entire world had just been turned on its head. 

A cry of dismay went up elsewhere in the room, followed by Jisung's voice exclaiming, “That's not fair! I was his first recruit, I should have dibs!”

Hyunjin didn't even stop kissing Chan to reply. He just raised one hand from Chan's shoulder to flip Jisung off before burying those fingers in Chan's hair. 

Was this… real? Like, really, genuinely real? Hyunjin's weight on his lap, Hyunjin’s waist in his hands, Hyunjin's tongue so boldly taking everything it wanted from Chan's; it felt like it had to be a dream, not a real moment in his real life. Chan could only breathe heavily through his nose as he struggled to keep up, eyes screwed shut and heart pounding in his ears. He groaned as Hyunjin ground his hips down, and considering the thin, athletic shorts they both wore for dance practice… 

This couldn't be happening. He was hallucinating. He was dreaming. He'd passed out in the middle of dancing and smacked his head on the hardwood floor. 

But it actually hurt when Hyunjin sunk his teeth into Chan's bottom lip, so it had to be real. 

He let out a pathetic noise when the kiss finally broke. For a long moment, he sat there with his eyes closed and his lips parted as he caught his breath. And when he opened his eyes, Hyunjin was staring down at him with a burning heat written across his face. 

“You're beautiful,” Chan breathed. 

“So are you,” Hyunjin replied. “God, you're perfect, hyung. Do you have any idea how much I've wanted to do this?”

No, of course not! Of course he didn't! “How would I? Nobody…”

Next to him, Felix leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. “Chris,” he said, his voice low and tempting as ever, “we wasted all this time because we've thought… I mean, even aside from us not thinking you were interested in dating at all, we… you're so gorgeous, are you kidding? You're on a different level.”

Chan slowly looked over to him. “Felix…”

“Don't look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don't believe me.”

Easier said than done. How was he supposed to believe that, not only had they actually wanted him all this time, but that they'd looked at him like he was as beautiful as they were saying? He'd never gotten either of those impressions! How was he supposed to just flip like a switch and forget all the times he'd felt ignored while he was sitting next to them? 

Or—well, actually… was it possible that they really had been pining after him like that all along, but he'd been too far in his own head to notice? 

Minho grabbed his hair, yanked his head back to expose his throat, and bit. 

“You think too much,” Hyunjin said, though Chan barely heard him over the sound of his own fucking moaning. “Thank you for distracting him, Min.”

A small grumble of mm was the only response that came from Minho as he worked hard to start mottling Chan's neck with lovebitten bruises. Chan wanted to say so much, but not a single word would come out as long as Minho was on him like that. He could only pant and try—unsuccessfully—to unfist his hands from Hyunjin's shirt.

One of Felix's small, warm hands slipped beneath the hem of Chan's baggy practice shirt. Felix traced over Chan's abs with his fingertips, and if he thought it was unattractive that the muscles were a bit obscured by, y'know, hydration, he didn't say anything about it—nor did his touch imply a lack of desire. 

This just couldn't be real. It felt too good. 

Chan's head fell back, and Minho took full advantage of it. Oh. God. He couldn't—he— fuck, it felt so good! He'd never had so many hands on his body at once, of course not, why would he? Well, maybe a performance or two, but that didn't count. It wasn't the same to be touched during a performance and to be touched like this. 

From somewhere else in the room, there was a displeased huff. “Look, I get that you're, like, the pretty ones or whatever,” Jisung said, “but it's not fair for you three to keep him all to yourselves. You gotta share.”

Hyunjin looked over his shoulder at Jisung. “Aw, babe,” he cooed, “are you jealous? ”

“You know I am! I've wanted to suck his dick for years!”

Minho unlatched himself from Chan’s throat to look over at Jisung, too. “Why didn't you tell me that before Hyunjin started roping us in?”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Because, I couldn't just fuckin’ tell my boyfriend that I wanted to suck another guy’s dick. That'd be weird.” He finally got to his feet and walked over, grabbed the back of Hyunjin’s shirt, and yanked him off of Chan’s lap. They toppled to the floor together, and Hyunjin only looked mildly perturbed about it; honestly, he sounded more amused than anything when he yelled, Hey! While Jisung had him trapped in a tangled mass of limbs on the floor, he demanded to know, “Why shouldn't I have him first?”

“Because we never decided who could have him first!” Hyunjin said through euphoric giggles. It didn't seem like he was bothered at all, actually. When Chan looked down at them, a warm knot settled in his gut—one that he wasn't sure how to define. He couldn't tell whether it was affection or amusement or arousal or all of them; he didn't care, either. He wanted them. He wanted to be in between them. He wanted—

—His breath caught when Changbin stepped over the hyunsung pile to stand in front of the couch, reach down, and lift Chan up with all the effort of picking up a piece of paper. He grabbed Chan by the thighs, leaving him no choice but to wrap his legs around Changbin’s waist and his arms around Changbin’s shoulders if he wanted to keep from falling. Those hands inched their way up Chan’s thighs to his ass, grabbing even as he stepped away again, carrying Chan off with him.

“Don't worry,” he said, “I've got you. They can fight over you on their own time, and we’ll do something else on ours, right?”

Oh. Chan didn't even fucking know what to say. His tongue was dead weight in his mouth. He'd never… he'd never been picked up and just carried around like this before, and it was driving him insane. He'd gotten hard from everything over on the couch anyway, but now he felt himself twitch in his pants. 

“Changbin,” he finally said, voice weak. There was nothing else to say. He couldn't—he—

Changbin grinned as he reached his destination: One of the mirror walls, the shorter one, just to shove Chan up against it for support. The chill of the cool glass reached through the cover of Chan's shirt, making him instinctively arch towards Changbin. “You’re so pretty, hyung,” Changbin sighed wistfully. “I'm sorry. We should've been more honest with you from the beginning. Should've said something the first time I walked into the studio and wanted to bend you over the desk when I saw how gorgeous you were, focusing so hard like that.”

Chan didn't dare look away; if he looked to one side, he'd inevitably make eye contact with someone else, and if he looked to the other side, he'd make eye contact with himself in the other mirror. He tightened his hold on Changbin’s shoulders. They were about as wide as Chan’s were, but somehow, they felt so much wider beneath his hands. And don't even get him started on the thickness of those muscles, fuck… everything about Changbin was thick and sturdy and reliable and sexy as hell. Ugh, Chan wanted him.

And still, the only thing he could say was a soft, disbelieving, “ Please .”

“I've got you,” Changbin assured him. “I'll take care of you.”

Jisung let go of Hyunjin and disentangled the two of them, just to scramble to his feet and come rushing over. He slammed one hand against the mirror next to Chan's head like he was trying to kabedon him or something, but the effect was significantly lessened by the softness of his face and the fact that Chan's ass was literally in another man's hands. “Who do you want first, hyung?” he asked in a way that Chan could only describe as desperately. “You can have any of us. We all want you so goddamn bad, seriously, I'm gonna lose it if I don't get to fuck you soon.”

Carefully, Chan removed one hand from Changbin so he could reach out to Jisung. “Sungie… you… really?”

“Are you kidding? Hyung. You're too hot, it's not fair. There's a million things I want to do with you.”

“Like what?” 

“Gonna get you all tied up and begging,” Jisung said, the look on his face taking on the same desperation as his voice—like he’d thought about it a million times and couldn’t stop thinking about it. “I bet you look so good squirming around, y’know? Trying to get out of ropes but only making them tighter, biting your lips and—”

—Seungmin laughed.

Jisung shot him a glare. “The fuck are you laughing about? Do you think I’m wrong? ”

“Of course you’re not wrong, ” Seungmin replied. “But you? In control of him? Come on, dude. Get real.”

“I am real! I’m so fucking real about this!”

“You are not gonna top this dude.”

“I’m gonna top him so hard it’s stupid.”

“Yeah, sure, and I’m the president.”

“You’re such a bitch, fuckin’ hell, dude.”

“Changbin, put him down, would you?” Seungmin asked, suddenly sounding a lot more polite. To Chan’s ears, it was obviously bullshit; he knew these boys better than anyone, and that included when they were bullshitting. But if Changbin noticed how fucking fake it was, he didn’t say anything about it. He just nodded and let Chan down, much to his disappointment. He’d been comfortable up there in those big strong arms…

Seungmin reached in to grab Chan’s wrist, yanking him unceremoniously away from Changbin and Jisung and off to the side where Jeongin was waiting. Instead of Chan’s back hitting a wall again, it hit Jeongin’s chest—whereupon Jeongin promptly wrapped his arms around Chan’s waist and rested his chin on Chan’s shoulder. Ugh, he used to be so much smaller than Chan was, and now look at him! “Hey, hyung,” he said, voice low in a way that made Chan’s knees weak. “You know you’ve always belonged to us, right? Whether you realized it or not, we’ve always claimed you.”

“I mean, you’ve always been mine,” Chan said, hoping and praying his voice didn’t shake too badly as Seungmin’s hands landed on his hips, trapping him between the two of them. “So I… figured there was some sort of equivalent from your end.”

Seungmin shook his head. “No, you don’t get it. We were your group, sure, but you were ours. Do you have any idea how many fuckers we had to beat back away from you?”

Chan blinked. “What?”

“None of them were good enough for you,” Jeongin said, “so we couldn’t let them shoot their shot. You’re too nice. You’d give them a chance. ”

Huh? 

“You were turning people down for me ?” Chan asked, eyes wide. “You mean—?”

“Oh, yeah, there were always assholes from other groups or their staff at music shows that came by the room hoping to get your number,” Seungmin said like it was the most natural thing on Earth, like it should’ve gone without saying. “But we hear things, y’know? Who’s good and who’s bad, who’s worth it and who’s not. And you’re hot as hell, dude. And the clothes you put on your body? Fuckin’...”

“No, seriously, do you know how many people were trying to suck your dick during Maxident? That one top had everyone ready to drop for you,” Jeongin continued. “You know the one, that really tight one. I think they would’ve sucked your tits through the fucking shirt if we’d let them.”

Chan’s body flooded with heat. What the fuck was he even supposed to say or do or think, hearing them talk to him like this after so long of doubting that he’d ever have them look at him the way he wanted them to? It was like they’d all dropped their filters all at once, leaving them with only filthy things to say to him. “That’s—no, I—”

“People want you so bad,” Seungmin said with a heavy sigh. “It’s infuriating, having to waste all our damn time telling people that you’re not on the market. They keep coming out of the goddamn woodworks to try to get your number, saying stuff about how good-looking you are and how people only ever say such good things about you, but we can see it in their eyes. It’s not that they’re interested in getting to know you. It’s just that they want to have you. They want to get you in bed.”

“Who?” Chan finally asked. “Anybody I know?”

Jeongin nodded as best as he could without lifting his head. “Mhm. I don’t think we should name names, though. You already have some of their numbers. I don’t want to ruin any of your friendships when you find out they’re just trying to bang.”

Names would make it more believable, though. It was so hard to imagine that… that that many people were actually interested in him, even if it was just for sex. “But—”

“—Can you please trust us?” Seungmin asked, softly, genuinely. “Seriously, Chan. It’s better if you don’t know who some of them were. We love you, okay? You’re such a good person, you don’t deserve to be taken advantage of. And people were going to take advantage of you. I know, I know, who are we to make that call for you, right? How could we… But you have to try to understand, we just—some of us have experienced it, y’know? And there’s always that fucking look in their eyes. We couldn’t let that happen to you.”

Jeongin pressed a kiss to the side of Chan’s head. “What would we do if we let someone into the room and they took advantage of you? What if they hauled you off to dinner and tricked you into thinking they were a nice person, and then two days later you’re wondering why they won’t text you back after they fucked you? We just didn’t think you’d take that very well, so… I’m sorry if you were lonely because of us. You were worried nobody liked you because we kept sending them away, huh? I’m sure we’re all sorry, but you can forget about that now. We’ve got you from now on.”

This time, the tears pricking at his eyes weren’t unpleasant. “I…” Maybe he should’ve been angry. Maybe he should’ve gone off about how he could take care of himself and make his own decisions, that he was old and mature enough to decide for himself whether someone had his best interests at heart when they asked him out on a date, but he couldn’t bring himself to work up any sort of anger. All he felt was… safe. A little pissed that any of his boys knew what it felt like to get fucked and ghosted, but safe in their arms—safe now that they’d decided to lay claim to him, safe hearing that they’d been silently looking out for him all this time. “Okay,” he eventually agreed. “I… I trust you guys, you know I do. If you say it was for my sake…”

Seungmin smiled a real, precious smile. He could hear the smile in Jeongin’s voice as he said, “It really was, hyung. We were waiting for someone good enough for you to come along, and nobody ever did. But now that we know how you feel about us, there’s no more waiting, right? You’re ours. All ours.”

Chan nodded, let a little bit more of his weight rest in Jeongin’s arms. He’d gotten so much stronger over the years; he was capable of helping Chan stay upright, even if he was weak with want. “All yours,” he said. “If—If you guys really want me, then…”

“If you were wearing jeans, I’d make a whole show of it,” Seungmin said, slipping his fingertips beneath the waistband of Chan’s shorts. “I get it during practice, but what do you have against wearing pants normally?”

“Uncomfortable,” Chan muttered. “I just don’t like wearing them. They’re too tight and scratchy and—what are you doing?”

Seungmin shrugged. “Taking your shorts off.” 

“Why?”

“You didn’t actually think you were gonna leave this room without getting fucked, did you?”

“I mean… yeah?” 

For all the dirty talk, surely there was no way they actually wanted to fuck him, right? Not that badly. Not here. Not…

“That’s stupid. Jisung is frothing at the mouth, and you know he always has lube in his bag, right?”

Jisung finally spoke up again. “Oh, so you’re gonna whine about me not being able to top, but as soon as you need lube I’m the first person you go to? Fuck off!”

“What, are you gonna tell me we can’t use it?” Seungmin demanded.

“Well, no, but—”

“—Then get over it!” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, hyung. Consider this your initiation, or something.”

His… initiation? “That sounds so formal, ” he said awkwardly. 

“How else should I say it?” Seungmin asked, slowly moving to work Chan's shorts down off his hips. “Should we say it's your welcome party?”

“Welcome orgy?” Felix suggested. “ That sounds fun.”

“Is it really an orgy if we're just passing one guy around?” Hyunjin asked. “I think we all have to be fucking at the same time for it to be an orgy.”

Felix hummed in thought. “Marathon sex? For him, anyway.”

Hyunjin made an equally pensive sound before agreeing, “Yeah, that sounds right.”

This could not be real. Forget knocking himself out on the floor; Chan had died in the middle of practice somehow and this was the afterlife, a heaven personalized just for him—a world where he could finally indulge in all the degenerate things he'd wanted from them when he was alive but hadn't been good enough to get. 

A chill shot down his spine as Jeongin nibbled at his earlobe.

God. It didn't matter if it was real or the afterlife or a hallucination or a dream; it felt good and he wanted it. Chan just let it happen as his shorts dropped to his ankles, guided down by Seungmin’s warm hands. They'd all seen him bare-ass naked before anyway, so it wasn't like he needed to feel awkward or nervous about it, but then again… he'd never been hard in front of them, either. This was new territory. He still had his underwear on, but their eyes on him burned. 

Jeongin’s hands reached far enough up Chan’s shirt to paw at his chest. Chan's eyebrows knit together in pleasure and his mouth hung slightly open as his breath came in heavy pants. This was… 

Minho was at Seungmin's side the next time Chan blinked. “You two don't get him first just because you're spoiled maknaes, you hear me?” he said, a slight gravel in his voice that nearly brought Chan to his goddamn knees. “We're settling this fair and square.”

Jeongin raised an eyebrow. “What's fair to you?” 

Minho grabbed Chan's face and directed him to look Minho in the eyes, as unfocused and hazy as they'd become during all of this attention. “Channie, baby,” Minho said, pretty voice of his absolutely dripping with honey, “why don't you tell us who you want first? We’d all be more than happy to do it. We've wanted you so goddamn bad, baby. We'll do whatever you want.”

All Chan wanted was to be stripped bare and thrown to his wolves, passed around and around, again and again until he was so thoroughly spent that he couldn't get his own feet underneath him. The order didn't matter, just as long as it ended with him exhausted and covered with bruises from their hands and teeth. He didn't care. His bottom lip trembled as the words tumbled from his mouth, “Please, just—any of you, all of you, please let me be selfish just this once—”

An indescribably soft look passed over Minho's face. “ Baby, ” he said. “Be as selfish as you want, okay? We’ll take care of you.” 

He leaned in and let his lips barely brush against Chan's, leaving him trying to chase after the sensation as he pulled away. Jeongin held Chan in place against him. “Come on, hyung,” he said, slowly starting to lower the two of them down to their knees on the hardwood floor, out of Seungmin’s hold. “Get comfortable. You're okay.”

Chan let himself be led down to the floor without any resistance at all. The wood felt cold against his bare legs, making him shiver as he sat down. Minho chuckled, the expression on his face far too satisfied. Chan could only look up back at him with curious eyes, wondering what the boys had planned for him. 

Minho reached out to run his fingers through Chan's unruly curls. “You look so good down here,” he said. “Bet you're even prettier with a cock in your mouth.”

Chan could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as his eyes darted to the undeniable bulge in Minho's sweatpants. If that was what Minho wanted… if that was a good way to start… if it would make Minho happy, convince him that Chan really was worth all of this… 

He swallowed nervously, then reached out to plant his hands firmly on Minho's strong thighs. “If you want,” he said, “I can—”

“— Oh, baby, no, not first thing,” Minho sighed as if it pained him to. “You're so good, fuck. But, no, we're gonna fuck you a couple times first, then we'll talk about you doin’ something for us, okay?”

Chan would never admit to it, but he whined. “ Minho… ”

“I know, I know,” Minho said so very soothingly. “You have the perfect mouth for it, don't you? You must be looking forward to it. I'll give it to you later. You just… you gotta choose, baby. Who do you want to fuck you first? Or do you wanna fuck Sungie? Felix? Hyunjin?”

Jisung and Hyunjin barked a simultaneous, “Hey!” 

Chan looked over to Jisung first, then let his gaze slide over to Hyunjin. He was pouting again. “Just because I bottom for you doesn't mean I'm not gonna top him, ” Hyunjin insisted, though he didn't dare put as much sass into it as he would have if he'd been talking to anyone other than Minho. “I've been thinking about fucking him for ages. Wanna see his pretty legs all spread out for me.”

A pathetic, miserable little, “ Please, ” slipped from Chan's lips.

Hyunjin lept to his feet and was across the room in an instant. “You want me?” he asked as he knelt down in front of Chan. “You want me to fuck you?”

Chan's entire body shook as a shiver shot down his spine. Hyunjin looked as desperate as Chan felt, and when had Chan ever been looked at like that? He nodded hard. “Please,” he repeated like it was the only word he still knew. “Please.”

Hyunjin had pulled him away from Jeongin and pinned him to the floor before Chan could say another word. He let Hyunjin pull his shirt up and off, groaned when Hyunjin's lips found their way to Chan's chest. Chan's hands flew to Hyunjin’s hair as his tongue danced over him, pausing his ministrations just to lightly bite at the nipple he'd dedicated his attention to. He chuckled lowly as Chan involuntarily bucked his hips. 

“Ji— Jinnie ,” Chan moaned pathetically. “That—I— nnh —”

“Should've known his chest would be sensitive,” Changbin said with a grin. “The loose shirts at home all the time, if he wears a shirt at all… What is it, Chan? Does it bother you to have fabric rubbing against you?” 

Chan felt like he should've been embarrassed, but he just nodded instead of letting it get to him. “Yeah,” he admitted, the word coming out strained as he tried to stay calm. “It's—too much— ah! ”

Hyunjin used Changbin's distraction to catch Chan off-guard, shoving his hand down Chan's underwear to take hold of his cock.

“Mm. Chris, do you usually top or bottom?” Hyunjin asked. 

Ah… “Wh— nnh, whatever my… partner… wants, usually.”

Hyunjin smiled. “So you're gonna be a good boy about us fucking you?” 

God, this was so embarrassing, but… “Yes, yes, of course—”

Chan’s eyes rolled back as Hyunjin thumbed at his slit. “Good. I got you, baby.”

“I— mmh —”

“You’re so pretty,” Hyunjin sighed. “We’re gonna take care of you, Channie. Such good care of you, I promise. You just gotta lay back and enjoy yourself, alright?”

Chan met Hyunjin’s gaze with watery eyes. “ Jinnie… please, I—you gotta let me do something, I—”

He knew it was Changbin’s hands on him as soon as he was being pulled backwards, settling against his sturdy frame. “—Absolutely not,” Changbin murmured against Chan’s ear. “You’re not doing anything yet. Maybe Minho will push you around later, but we’re taking care of you for now, got it?”

Chan wanted to scream. He wanted to yell about how that wasn’t fair! He loved them so much, he… he… he should be allowed to take care of them, to show them how much he loved them, to make them feel good while he had them all together like this. Let them make good use of him, not fall all over themselves trying to make him feel good when he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. He hadn’t… he didn’t…

Hyunjin pulled Chan’s boxers down off of him and tossed them off to the side somewhere. Changbin reached around to grab Chan’s thighs just above the backs of his knees, guiding him to open his legs. “You’re so pretty,” he said. “You’re so, so pretty.”

And Chan felt like he was going to burn alive. They were—Oh, God, they were all just staring at him, his entire body out on display. 

An overwhelming sense of shame came crashing down on him like the tidal wave of a tsunami. His hands trembled as he moved to cover himself, to hide away from their stares. It felt so different from the way it usually felt to just walk around naked at home; they usually ignored him when he was undressed, or they just didn't care, and he definitely knew better than to leave his room with a hard-on, so how was he supposed to adjust to this? To having their eyes fixed on him, bare and wanting and spread open as he was? 

Something went flying towards Hyunjin from the couch. Felix had crawled down its length to where their bags lay piled all together, retrieved Jisung's, and tossed his prize across the room. It landed a little short, but slid the rest of the way into Hyunjin's reach.

“What’re you covering up for?” Changbin asked as they watched Hyunjin retrieve the bottle and pop open the lid. “Everyone wants to see you.”

It just… Did they, really? Even if he'd gotten into this situation… 

Hyunjin poured way more lube onto his fingers than Chan thought strictly necessary. 

Jisung evidently agreed, because he made a little noise and said, “If you guys use it all, someone has to buy me a new one.”

“ I'm not gonna use it all,” Hyunjin replied. He slowly rubbed his fingers together to warm the lube, and maybe Chan was crazy, but it sounded so loud as the extra dripped to the floor. “Not sure about the rest of them.”

Chan didn’t get a chance to chime in before Hyunjin had settled closer to him and those fingers were teasing his entrance. His head fell back against Changbin as he groaned, praying he didn't make a fucking fool of himself somehow. He— nnh, he hadn't bottomed in quite awhile, and if he wasted their time by not adjusting quickly…

One fingertip breached him as Hyunjin used his other hand to guide Chan's away from where he was hiding himself. The time slipped away as muscle memory took over; he didn't make a conscious choice to try to grind down towards Hyunjin's hand, but everyone saw it happen, hindered only by Changbin’s grip on his thighs.

“Oh, fuck off,” Felix muttered to himself, though it sounded… appreciative? Ah—he had his own hand down the front of his pants by the time Chan managed to look over at him.

Talk about a fucking ego booster.

“You're awfully eager for being so tight,” Hyunjin said, still holding Chan's hands in his one as he worked his finger further in. “I can feel you trying to pull me in, Chris. That's cute.” Deeper, more, until Hyunjin’s knuckles were pressing into the flesh of Chan's ass. “And you don't wanna let me go, do you? You're so cute.”

Nnh—no, no, “Not—cute,” Chan said between heavy breaths, willing himself to keep it together as Hyunjin began exploring his insides. “I—”

“No, he's not cute,” Seungmin said, casually sauntering over to crouch down next to them like this was the most normal thing in the world. He grabbed Chan by the chin and forced him to hold eye contact as he said, “He's actually adorable, don't you think?”

No, no, not him, seriously, please let him cover his face or something, he really didn't think he was good-looking enough on any level to maintain this much attention for very long, so—

His train of thought crashed into sheer oblivion the instant Hyunjin found the spot he was looking for. He let out a truly pathetic, pitiful moan, his legs twitching on reflex as he reached out towards—well, someone, anyone. One hand grabbed Hyunjin's shoulder and the other dug into Changbin's thigh, but his grip wasn't enough to ground him as Hyunjin set about making himself thoroughly familiar with the place he'd worked so diligently to find.

“ So adorable,” Hyunjin agreed as he watched Chan fight the urge to writhe. “You’re holding back, aren't you, Chan? Don't bother, baby. We're all gonna see everything eventually anyway.”

The thought made Chan’s stomach twist, but he couldn't tell whether it was from arousal or anxiety. They'd all… see him? They'd… somehow, it still didn't feel like this was happening, much less like anything more would take place. 

Even when he closed his eyes, he could still feel them watching him—the way his toes curled and his back arched, the way he bit his lips raw in an effort to keep himself quiet. The way Seungmin—of all people! Chan really wasn’t sure this wasn't an elaborate hallucination—leaned in to kiss his lips open again, murmuring between the obnoxious noises of lips on lips that there just wasn't enough time in the world for Chan to waste by trying to keep himself quiet.

He wanted to disagree, to insist that he really shouldn't make a scene by being loud and demanding, but Hyunjin finally decided to stop teasing and work in a second finger, so… he failed to hold back a whining moan. He found the noise to be God-awful, grating and annoying and not at all the sort of thing that anyone would want to hear, but—but Seungmin was grinning triumphantly against him, and Changbin's breath caught, and Hyunjin was saying something about how pretty Chan sounded, and…

“Someone turn the playlist back on, would you?” Seungmin asked as he finally separated from Chan, surely noting but not mentioning the way Chan tried to follow him. “I don't want anyone walking by that door and hearing him. He's ours.”

Jeongin nodded and made his way over to the computer, restarting their practice playlist from the beginning. Chan watched as he then went to lock the door; the practice room doors weren't locked very often, so it would definitely be suspicious if someone tried to get in and couldn't, but the other option was much, much worse. The very thought of someone outside of this room seeing him like this had Chan feeling ill. No, he could only trust them with this, even if they decided by tomorrow that they didn't want him after all. And he could live with that, he could, just as long as he got this, just once. To have their love just one time… that was all he needed, really.

“Chris,” Hyunjin said, reclaiming his attention. “You're gonna be good for us, right?” He had let up a little, giving Chan a chance to breathe, switching his focus from toying with Chan's prostate to actually stretching him. He was working up to a third finger as he asked, “You're gonna let us take the lead, right? Take care of you?”

Listen. Chan didn't go out of his way to find ship content of him and the boys; that would be weird. It would be weird for him to purposefully seek out stories or art or TikToks or whatever-the-fuck of him and his members in… that sort of situation. (Or, well, this sort of situation.) So, no, he didn't look on purpose. It was just that… sometimes those things found their way to him, y'know? It was an inevitable part of interacting with any sort of fandom—seeing adult content that you may or may not have meant to see. He never mentioned it to the boys, never made any allusions to it to the fandom, nothing; he just carried on with his life, wondering more often than he'd like to admit whether it would actually go that way.

Okay, that was a long-winded way of saying he'd successfully convinced most of the adult content side of the fandom that he was a top. Whether or not that was true depended entirely on the circumstances, but did it really seem that unusual for him to want to be taken care of, too?

“Do whatever you want with me,” he breathed, regardless of how pathetic it sounded. 

A sort of smile Chan had never seen on Hyunjin’s face before made its home there as he asked, “You sure about that, baby? That's an awful lot of faith in us.”

Chan nodded. No matter how miserable or debasing… if it made them happy, it would make him happy. He wanted to know what they were into, whether it felt good for him, and he just—fuck, he just wanted them to keep looking at him like this! “I'm sure,” he said with a nod. “I can—I can take it.”

The spark that flared in Hyunjin’s eyes, though, made him start to doubt that.