Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After seven years of being Stray Kids' leader, you'd think Chan would have figured this shit out by now.

Unfortunately, despite the chaos that the years have brought, nothing has been quite like the balancing act that is handling one last rush group comeback before the cascading enlistments start- Minho first, of course- and because Chan doesn't have to, instead, impossibly, Chan is also going to debut solo.

So one might be able to imagine the kind of stress he is under.

And on top of all that, Minho has been in a mood.

Minho has lots of moods, really, each one of them more impenetrable than the last. Chan has learned to roll with them, because he's the leader and he's the hyung and Minho is generally a delight to be around even when he's in a mood. He's charming and funny and cat-quick with a sharp word, but it only contrasts more with his tone when he comes to drag Chan home from where he'd fallen asleep on the studio couch.

No, that hasn't happened too many times. Why would anyone think that? Lies and slander.

It's perfectly reasonable for him to be working late, anyways, with his debut not public yet, but looming all the same. Minho is just sensitive.

But now, when they're in the last week of group promotions and they're all fucking exhausted and Minho threatening Hyunjin comes out with far more venom than usual, Chan has to step in. A bunch of them have cycles scheduled soon, but hormones aren't an excuse, they all know that, and they just have three more days until their last stage, and Chan needs to nip this shit in the bud or they'll be sniping at each other for the next seventy-two hours and it will be a disaster.

He flares his salty scent and uses his sternest leader-voice, the one that works to cow even the most bullheaded alphas he knows. "Minho. Apologize."

Minho glares, halfway to mutinous, but then he deflates, his scent pulling back from its aggressive burning-pepper height into its usual more sweet tone. "Sorry, Hyunjinnie."

"It's okay, hyung." Hyunjin's shoulders slide out of their defensive tension. Really he might have already fallen asleep in his soup if Felix hadn't been beside him to half hold him up. He gets up, holding his bowl, tips it back to drain the last of the broth. "'M gonna go to bed, I guess. See you tomorrow."

"I'll come wake you in the morning, Jin. Five o'clock." Chan doesn't take his eyes off Minho as he calls after Hyunjin, though, because there's an extra odd note to Minho's body language, betraying the rut coming soon as well as something else. Hyunjin groans from the hall, and Minho's eyes flicker over to him, then to Felix, still picking at the rice cakes floating in his own bowl.

"You should go to bed too, Lixie." Minho says, and Felix whines, "But-"

"Go to bed." Chan says before Minho can. "I'll clean up." He thinks he's getting the idea now, and he wants to nip this in the bud, too- though he might be able to salvage something for himself.

Felix makes a face, but he does get up and slump out, snagging one more bread roll as he goes. Chan lets it be. Three more days of promotions. At this point, fuck diets.

And then it's just Chan and Minho, sitting alone in the kitchen with their slowly cooling ten-o'clock dinner.

Minho is looking at Chan, his gaze heavy and dark and tired and lonely all at the same time. Chan meets it evenly, steadily.

"Minho," he says. "Do I need to put you to bed myself?"

"You gonna tuck me in and sing me a lullaby?" Minho's tone is both more and less acidic, now. He shows more vulnerability, with only Chan to see, but he's all the sharper for it.

"No," Chan says dryly. Minho hasn't been just one of Chan's kids for a long time. "But I'll kiss you goodnight if you ask nicely."

Minho's eyes light with interest. "Oh? Will you?" He gets up from the table and stalks around it, eyes intent, until Chan scoots back so Minho can slide into his lap. Their faces are so close together that Chan can see every detail of him, the acne scars and the way his nose turns up a little and his long, long lashes.

Chan is the one who leans in first, pressing their lips together softly once, twice. Minho lets it stay gentle for a little while, lets Chan soothe him and lead him into focusing on the little world contained between them, but once he's there he doesn't tolerate it for much longer.

He nips at Chan's lower lip once, twice, until it hurts but doesn't quite bleed, and his hands slide up, up, up Chan's chest to tweak a nipple, and when Chan's mouth opens on a groan he starts to kiss down Chan's jaw, towards his ear. It sends a wave of warmth down Chan's body, that Minho knows all the best ways to make him feel good. Chan will never be able to see him as sharp-edged as he clearly wants to be; he only has to call up the memories of nights like this, kissing lazily, sometimes not even chasing pleasure, just solace.

Tonight, though, Chan hums, "Three days," and grinds his hips up against Minho's as he returns to Minho's lips. Real penetration is off the table during promotions, but some good old-fashioned humping is perfectly legal as long as they don't strain anything.

"Three days," Minho breathes back. "And then I get you all to myself." He tucks himself close and grinds back, almost lazily. "Gonna be so good- can't wait for you to ride me-"

Chan snorts, but fondly. "Uh-huh. Who says you won't be riding me with those pretty thighs?" He gets his hands under the thighs in question and heaves Minho up a few inches, intending to drop him again, but he grabs Chan's arms tight.

"Channie," he says, pupils suddenly blown. "I swear to god-"

Hmm. Interesting. Experimentally, Chan hefts Minho up again, standing from the chair, and while Minho's hands claw at his back it's surprisingly easy to do. Either Chan's getting stronger or the comeback diet's got Minho too light.

"I can hear you thinking," Minho growls. "Stop."

When he kisses Chan again, it's just heat. Both their lips are going to be swollen tomorrow, but Chan doesn't give much of a shit as he stumbles over to the counter to set Minho down for a better angle to grind against him with.

They're alone. The rest of the kids are sleeping in their rooms, if they know what's good for them. Sure, they have an early wakeup, but it's no worse than Chan's usual sleep schedule and Minho doesn't seem to be complaining.

Chan slips his tongue into Minho's mouth and stops thinking.

~

The last day of promotions, when they all know they can finally stop taking their suppressants and wearing scent blockers, always utterly crawls. The last stage is exciting, of course, but it's also brutal on their exhausted limbs, and then the photos and the interview after and saying goodbye to all the staff feels like it takes forever. Only when they tumble back into the vans to head back to the dorms when it's all over can they decompress, and by then it's dark out, if only barely.

Chan is immediately on his phone ordering celebratory chicken and pizza, because he's going to eat his weight in things that will make his face bloated tomorrow, and the kids deserve a little spoiling. He knows all their preferences by heart, too, so scrolling through the menu is pretty quick, only interrupted when Minho leans over and adds an extra order of pickles.

"Hyunjin and Seungmin fought over them last time," he says when Chan raises an eyebrow at him. "Just a precaution. What?"

"Nothing," Chan says, but internally he knows he's probably got his dopiest expression on. Minho is just so good at remembering things like that, things that Chan either doesn't see with the dorm split or simply forgets because he's human. Minho should know that Chan appreciates him and everything he does.

Minho scoffs and looks away, but he's blushing, and Chan can't help but coo and lean over the bench seat to wrap his arms around him, leaning in to casually scent him. He smells so good, underneath soap and makeup and perfume; the spice of it makes Chan want to sneeze and never let him go at the same time.

"Hyung?" Jisung calls from the front seat, twisting around a little. "Hyung, look at the group chat and tell Changbin- oh my god, you're impossible."

Chan sticks his tongue out at Jisung, but he peels himself away from Minho to finish up the food order and break up the fight in the 3RACHA group chat.

And then he goes back to cuddling Minho as best he can with his seatbelt on, because he's starting to feel the need for contact coming on, and what's the point of being part of a pack if he can't get cuddles whenever he wants? He thinks Minho's rut is close, too, by the way his scent is slowly strengthening and he's not even attempting to push Chan away. God, he's so fucking tired suddenly, he doesn't even want to do anything once they get home, just eat and then sleep for a solid ten hours before his body decides it's time to fuck for the next few days.

It's very cruel of Felix to drag him up and away from the source of warmth that's got him dozing once they arrive at the dorms. He and Minho let out a simultaneous grumble, but Felix just laughs. "C'mon, Chan, you always make us eat before bed. Even if your boyfriend is being possessive."

"Not my boyfriend," Chan groans as he always does, but he does get himself through the door and into the elevator under his own power. According to the pack's group chat, the others are already in the 3RACHA-jin dorm, and the food's arrived too, so they have to get there soon or there won't be much left. Chan indulged himself and got his own favorite pineapple and chorizo pizza, which apart from him only Hyunjin will touch, but the soy chicken is always a hot commodity.

Felix and Jisung race ahead from the elevator, and when Chan and Minho finally arrive they're already settled around the table, bickering over something or other. Chan marvels at their energy. Minho seems to debate seats for a second before sitting at the head of the table and patting his lap. "Hyung," he says imperiously. "The seat of honor for our illustrious leader. Well done on corralling us through another comeback, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah." Chan shrugs, figures fuck it, and plops down with his back to Minho's chest, eyeing the scattering of boxes set out to see if he can snag his pizza and some soy chicken without losing a finger. "It's all you guys, I just set the stage. You're the ones who take it and shine."

"Mission: Get Chan to accept a compliment: failed," Jeongin mutters into his own chicken. "Load from last save?"

"Eh," Minho leers, his mouth very close to Chan's ear. "Let's eat and then you guys can clear out so I can try again, hmm?"

Jeongin gags theatrically, but he does start passing around boxes now that they're all arrived.

Fuck if the food isn't delicious, but halfway through his pizza Chan is nodding off again. He hears Changbin snicker and huffs, forcing his eyes open to see that honestly, they're all kind of drooping with exhaustion. Even Minho's solid weight behind him is slumped over a few degrees.

"Bed for everyone, I think," Chan says, sighing. "Changbin, you can clean up if you have the energy to laugh at me. If anyone's taking a cycle partner you know the drill, get a kit and text a manager if you need anything. Minho and I will be together, but if it's truly an emergency come get us, okay?"

Chan looks around, making eye contact with all of his boys, and they all nod. Hyunjin coughs, "Yes, dad," but given that he and the rest of the '00 line tend to mix and match partners among themselves depending on a whim, Chan feels justified in making sure he grabs enough condoms.

Once that's all sorted, his leaderly duties done, Chan twists around to kiss Minho softly. "Take me to bed?" he murmurs. "My bed, 's bigger."

"Of course." Minho smiles indulgently back at Chan. "But if you think I'm going to carry you, you're sadly mistaken. You can walk."

Chan whines, but he does heave himself up with a grunt of effort and meander his way around the table, dropping a kiss on each of his kids no matter how much they protest. He might not see some of then for a full week depending, and maybe it makes him clingy but his boys are his family and he's going to miss them.

He gets back to Minho, who's standing and watching with his hands in his pockets, amused approval in the curl of his smile, and kisses him one more time before taking him by the hand and leading him down the hall.

~

Of course, something has to happen.

It's a miscalculation, really. Jeongin, usually such a solid beta, gets his hormones knocked out of whack with so many of his packmates cycling at one time, and he goes into a pseudo-cycle. It wouldn't even be a problem then, they could manage it, but his body can't seem to decide which it should be emulating, and while he tries to take care of it on his own and roll with the intense hormonal swings, he can't bear it for long.

So he says when he knocks on Chan and Minho's door early in the morning on the second day of their break. Minho is sleeping, but Chan is half-awake, drowsily considering getting himself off. The knock and Jeongin's teary voice through the door are like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head, jolting him awake as Minho makes a sleepy sound, and he quickly gets himself decent so he can answer.

"Oh, baby," he says the minute he sees Jeongin's face. "What do you need me to do? Do you need to go to the emergency room?"

Jeongin hesitates for a second, clearly fighting with himself, then nods. More tears streak down his face, and Chan coos, pulling him into a tight hug. "Don't worry, Innie," he says. "I'll call manager-hyung and we'll get you a ride-"

"I called him already," Jeongin sobs. "He didn't pick up, and I didn't wanna bother you but it hurts so bad, hyung, I'm sorry. I really am."

"Okay, okay, shh, it's okay, I'm glad you came to us," Chan says, thinking fast. No manager. Chan finally got his Korean driver's license a couple years back, not that he uses it often, but he can. "You're going to be okay, baby, I'm sorry it hurts. Let me wake Minho so he can make sure everyone else is okay and I'll drive you."

"But hyung, you-"

Chan cuts him off. "No buts. You did a good job coming to us, you did just right. Let me take care of you now, hmm?"

Jeongin just nods. How miserable must he be, to barely be protesting. Chan kisses him on the forehead and goes to shake Minho awake, but Jeongin grabs his arm tight enough to bruise and snarls, yanking him back. By the time Chan looks back at him, startled, he's let go like he's been burned, and his face is crumpling again.

Oh boy. Chan thought they left the possessive rut instincts behind in 2019. They all know better, though, so Chan doesn't scold.

"You're okay, Jeonginnie." Chan says calmly, trying to defuse any more hysterics. "I know you didn't mean it, and you didn't hurt me. We're gonna make it better, okay?"

Jeongin nods, fists clenched so tight his knuckles are white. This time, when Chan takes a cautious step away, he doesn't move, and Chan takes another step, and another, until he can lean over the bed and murmur in Minho's ear while shaking him gently.

"Minho, get up, please. I have to go, and I need you to check on the pack. Please."

"Whmm?" Thank god, Minho rouses more properly and sits up halfway, rubbing at his eyes. "Channie, what time is it?"

"I don't know. Early. I'm sorry." Chan kisses him sweetly, doing his best to ignore how the contact and Minho's sleep-soaked voice is making him wet again, heat crawling up the back of his neck. "I have to go, text me, okay? I'll let you know when Innie's feeling better."

Fuck, Minho looks at him, and Chan wants him so bad, but he can't do anything about it right now. Instead, he grabs his bottle of suppressants from the nightstand and throws one back dry. They're fairly effective at heading off heat when it hasn't set in, so they should be able to at least keep down his scent to manageable levels and put off the next wave long enough that he can stay coherent. He hopes.

He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, then, and takes Jeongin's hand to lead him out. One last glance back at Minho leaves him with the image of his favorite alpha looking after them, eyes dark and burning, expression indecipherable.

Chan ends up taking Jeongin to a discreet twenty-four-hour urgent care nearby, both of them in masks and hoodies, spray-on scent blockers liberally applied. The suppressant seems to be working, because Chan isn't feeling any heat symptoms, just the anxiety of having a miserably sick pack member. When he checks the time, it's two in the morning, but it doesn't hurt to be careful. He gets a text from Minho: all fine here. be safe coming home.

Thankfully, it's not too busy, and they don't seem to be recognized before they're called back. The nurse is matter-of-fact but warm, asking after Jeongin's symptoms and Chan's relationship to him. It warms Chan all over when he glances over shyly and says, "He's my pack leader. I want him to stay."

The nurse is quick to finish his exam after that, then gives Jeongin a shot. Chan watches carefully, ready to intervene if Jeongin doesn't take it well, but he doesn't even flinch. After that the nurse tells them to sit in the room for a while longer to make sure he doesn't have a bad reaction, and if he doesn't then they're free to go. If symptoms reoccur, they should go to the hospital so they can run tests. On and on and on. Chan nods along for the whole thing, taking notes on his phone, but by the time they're done Jeongin is half-asleep on his shoulder. Chan himself isn't feeling too hot, crashing hard from the adrenaline and worry, but he holds his baby up as he pays at the front desk and gets them back into the car and then home.

After tucking Jeongin into bed, Chan waits outside his door for a few more minutes, waiting to hear his soft breathing even out into sleep. There's shifting in the next room down- someone's dreaming- but it's quiet otherwise, peaceful. Chan checks his phone- four in the morning. There's a text from Minho, sent half an hour ago: waiting for you.

Chan doesn't respond, but it certainly quickens his feet as he heads back down the hall.

In his room, Minho has changed the sheets, and he's sitting up against the headboard, flipping through a book. When Chan closes the door behind him, he looks up, eyes sharp. "How's Jeongin?"

"He's alright. Sleeping." Chan slumps forward, crawls into his rumpled nest of hoodies and blankets. Plain, but that's the way he likes it; nothing too awkward or lumpy, just the right amount of familiar softness. That Minho's never commented on it is just another source of endearment.

When Chan sighs and snuggles up onto Minho on reflex, though, he's startled to find that he can't pick up any fresh rut. Minho blinks at him when he pulls back a little and sniffs the air, frowning.

"Oh," Chan says. "Did you take a suppressant too? I can't smell your rut."

"Of course I did," Minho says blankly. "Why would I not?"

Chan looks at him harder, exasperated but also fond. He looks okay, if tired. Chan feels a little nauseated himself, a little jittery, and he has a headache clamping down right behind his left eye, but that could be the sudden wake-up and the general aftereffects of heat, or it could be a bad reaction to the suppressant in the middle of a cycle, maybe. He doesn't know if his meds are meant to be used this way, much less Minho's. Taking them was an impulse, maybe a stupid one, but they worked, and Jeongin is okay, so it's probably fine. Probably.

"Okay," is all he says after a pause. "Thank you. Wake me up if you need to."

"Sure, Chan." Minho's tone says as if, but Chan lets it go as he gets comfortable to try and sleep again. "Want the lights off?"

"Nah, it's fine. Just sleep soon, okay?"

"Okay." Minho strokes Chan's hair once, twice, as his eyes close. "Goodnight."

~

When Chan wakes the next afternoon, sunlight streaming high through his curtains, he feels fine. No heat, no sickness. He lays there in bed with his eyes closed for a moment, breathing in his and Minho's scents combined. His heart aches, but that's old, familiar pain. After every cycle they spend together, years on years of them every few months like clockwork, Chan swallows down the words he can't drag from behind his teeth, deep-cleans his room to purge the last tantalizing traces of spicy alpha, and pretends he doesn't miss it. Pretends he doesn't want more.

Minho will go back to pushing Chan away, and Chan will pretend his affection is just that of pack leader and hyung. That's all it can be, so that's what it is.

Chan lets himself pretend for a moment longer, then opens his eyes. Minho isn't there; his side of the bed is cold. And yet he's carefully replaced the nest materials so they're as close to their original configuration as possible. There's a water bottle with a cracked lid on the nightstand, too, along with a pack of rice crackers and a painkiller.

Well, Chan can't stay wrapped up in the blanket cocoon all day long. But maybe he can wallow a little while longer while he sips and nibbles and swallows down the pill to pre-empt any soreness later.

And then he gets up, because he has to move forward. There's a beat that's been bopping around in the back of his head for a while, something that might not work for the group but possibly as an intro for his album, and he has some unexpected downtime after the aborted heat to sit down with his laptop and play around.

(Minho isn't anywhere in the dorm, when Chan peeks into each of the rooms. Whether that's a good or bad thing, he isn't sure.)

~

Chan doesn't actually spend much time working, for the few days he's at loose ends. He tries, he gets as far as setting his laptop up at the kitchen table with his mixing board, but he can't focus for longer than twenty minutes at a time. His brain is buzzing with restlessness, and work doesn't soothe it like usual. Instead, Chan wanders between the dorms, prepping food that's easy to eat, doing endless loads of laundry, making sure his pack has every possible need provided for. That helps, but the unease still doesn't quite go away.

Minho, himself, seems to be taking the time to aggressively dote on Jeongin, all the while pretending he's not, and it's bad for Chan's poor heart. Eventually, the fond pang he gets in his chest when Minho comes home from a mysterious outing with Jeongin's favorite boba is too much and he has to leave abruptly. It takes him half an hour to get his brain out of the loop of cute cute cute.

"Hyung," Jeongin pouts after a couple days of bed rest, sitting on Chan's couch, looking lethally cute. "Can I use your computer? My friends are having a League tournament and I wanna play with them."

"Don't you have your own?" Chan grouses, but he's already getting up to put in his password. "Don't lower my ELO too much."

"You do that yourself, hyung, I don't have to." Jeongin sniffs, slipping his headphones on, and then he proceeds to pay no attention to Chan any longer. Honestly, that's probably the best sign that he's feeling better.

But now Chan has one less to fuss over, and Changbin is visiting his family and Jisung is over with Felix and Hyunjin, so. Chan pats Jeongin on the head one last time, makes sure his water bottle is full, and walks down the hall again.

The other dorm is surprisingly quiet. Minho is lounging across the couch, legs thrown over Seungmin's lap as they play Tetris on the TV. "Hyung," Minho says as Chan enters. "Tell Seungmin-ah to stop giving me trash."

"Get better at clearing it," Seungmin says, deadpan, ignoring the smack on the arm that earns him.

"Have fun," Chan says dryly, already flopping onto the armchair. "It okay if I hang around? Jeongin's gaming with his friends and he'll shiv me if I go back over and disturb him."

"Whatever," Minho says dismissively, eyes still fixed on the screen. To be fair to him, he's not losing by much. "Make us dinner later."

"Sure, I'll heat up some of your leftovers." Chan shrugs at Minho's indignant glance, and then cackles when he promptly loses to Seungmin throwing too much trash all at once.

"Again," Minho hisses, and then they're back at it. Chan settles in, curling around his favorite pillow and scrolling through Twitter. The latest BTS memes are pretty funny.

~

Chan is happy that he has the excuse of Jeongin wanting to be left alone as the hour grows late. He can stay here, in the same room as Minho, breathing in his mildly agitated scent from losing at Tetris and then Puyo and then some other game that seems to involve a lot of swinging controllers and yelling. He's not truly angry, but it rouses Chan's restless instincts, so he sets the pillow aside and goes to cling to Minho instead, trying to placate.

Not that Minho's ever been placated by Chan clinging, but that's beside the point.

The point is, Chan doesn't want to go back, and Minho will accept the flimsy excuse and let Chan into his bed for the night. Chan is pathetically grateful for it. Neither of them touch more than in perfunctory ways as they figure out going to sleep while Chan pretends he doesn't want to just keep clinging, but it's still like water in the desert, a balm to soothe the itch under his skin.

Falling asleep with his nose buried in Minho's sheets brings the easiest drop into sleep Chan's had in a long time.

He dreams of standing in an expansive field of knee-high grass and flowers, the sun beating down from the cloudless sky, and Minho's silhouette a hundred meters away, facing the horizon.

The buzzing of the insects, slightly too loud and high-pitched, is eerie. Nothing casts shadows, even in the blinding sun. There's no hint of breeze, but the grass moves in waves, brushing against Chan's calves and leaving behind tiny itches.

Minho starts to walk away. He moves at a steady pace, seemingly intent on something Chan can't see.

"Minho?" Chan calls, but there's no response. Minho doesn't even twitch to indicate he's heard. "Minho!"

Chan tries to run after him, but he can't move. His feet won't obey him, seemingly rooted to the ground as the sun grows impossibly brighter and hotter. When he looks back, there's another figure, turned away and walking, but Chan doesn't recognize them. He still feels a pull towards them, though, like he should know who they are.

Sweat trickles down his spine. Minho is disappearing now into the distance when Chan looks back. He can barely keep himself upright under the oppressive heat.

"Minho!" Chan shouts, sitting bolt upright in bed, panting hard. For a second he just sits there shaking with the adrenaline of the nightmare, trying to calm his breathing, but then the jolt of pure need hits his brain and all thought fogs away except getting Minho inside him. Minho's cock, Minho's knot, Minho's teeth.

There's a sharp shuffling sound in the dark of the room, and then Minho is on him, and Chan lets his body be covered, lets his legs spread to invite more closeness. Minho snarls, fangs fully dropped so he has to slur around them, but Chan understands him perfectly when he says, "Mine. My Chan."

"My Minho," Chan croons. He tries to tug at his own pants and underwear and mostly succeeds at getting himself tangled up, but it's enough to release the heady scent of his own slick and precome to the air. If possible, Minho's pupils dilate further. "Yes, yes, 's for you, just for you, don't you want me?"

"Yessss," Minho hisses. He wrestles with his own clothes for a few moments until he's about as naked as Chan is, but- it's enough.

Chan makes a punched-out sound when Minho wraps his hand around both their leaking, hard cocks and strokes. He eases a hand down to Chan's front hole, too, sliding one finger and then two inside when he feels just how wet Chan is. Chan spreads his legs until his hips creak, craving the burn, the stretch, because he knows he'll get what he wants.

The heat burning, raging inside after it was denied once, won't allow anything else, and Minho's rut seems to agree with how fast he's making the prep.

Still, Chan is impatient, and even if Minho is his chosen alpha, he's still Minho's leader. When he flips them over with one great heave, Minho doesn't protest, just tightens one hand on his hip as he squirms the rest of the way out of his pants.

When Chan sheathes himself on Minho's cock almost in one go, that's the thing that makes them both finally relax and moan in unison. Chan's cock jumps, his hole spasms, and Minho starts fucking up in slow, deep thrusts. It feels so good, feeds the fire deep in Chan's groin, brushing every sweet spot inside of him every time he pulls off and drops back down, taking a little bit more every time. The knot, half-inflated, teases at his entrance a few times before Chan shoves down to meet one of Minho's thrusts hard and it pops inside. The weight and the stretch of it are indescribable.

But he wants more. He needs more.

Chan keeps driving himself down, again and again, one hand working on his cock and the other clutched tight on Minho's forearm. Minho, for his part, is doing his best to slam himself inside as far as possible, making Chan give a bitten-off yell every time as he gets close, close, so close. He doesn't want to come without the knot, though, so he holds himself back, clenching and twisting, doing everything he can to work Minho up to his peak.

When Minho finally knots, he does it with his hands tight on Chan's hips, holding him down securely while he pumps him full of come, and Chan wouldn't have it any other way.

~

Chan wakes monstrously sore and covered in sweat the next day to the sun already high in the sky. He grumbles and rolls over to shield his eyes from the bright light, poking one foot out of the blanket, and the rush of cool air makes him shudder but does help wake him up.

Minho's scent is fresh, strong, startling, and oh-so-lovely to Chan's twitching nose. It's also so unexpected that Chan yelps and tumbles the other way, landing on the floor hard. Why is he in Minho's bed? The crud between his legs and on his belly suggests that they'd spent the night doing more than sleeping, but why?

He only half-remembers, is the thing. Flashes, sure, of hazy motion in the dark, and the sweetness of pleasure and having Minho so close, but he doesn't remember what must have led to the decision to have frantic middle-of-the-night sex. Minho, blinking down at him now with half sleepy irritation and half amusement, doesn't present any answer except, "Come back to bed, hyung."

"I- I- you-" Chan sputters. He doesn't understand. He thought Minho wasn't one for mornings after, not when neither of them still need it on a physical level. "You want-?"

"Yes," Minho says drowsily, apparently unmoved by Chan's flailing. "Come on, it's still March, it's cold."

The mess between his legs is steadily getting more uncomfortable, so he takes a deep breath and scrambles up, avoiding Minho's eyes, snagging a random pair of sweats as he sidles awkwardly around the room towards the door. "I, um. I'm going- shower. Talk later."

He'll talk to Minho later. They'll figure out what the fuck happened together. Just- later. Chan needs to process that look, the exasperated affection that warmed his whole chest and makes him blush like a teenager with a crush even now.

He's almost thirty this year. He has to get his head on straight.

Then right after he gets cleaned up, Jisung and Felix and Hyunjin are apparently done fucking, so they're whining for Chan's attention (and his wallet for ice cream money), and then Jeongin comes to get him because he needs Chan to tell him which container in the freezer has the spicy kimchi stew, and then manager-hyung calls because he has a couple questions about Jeongin's urgent care bill, and by the time he has a second to breathe and go looking for Minho he's gone.

Felix just shrugs when asked where. Hyunjin makes vague noises about going to the company to work off some stress. Stress, Chan thinks? Is having sex with him stressful?

To be fair, Chan is stressed too. He's never gotten blackout drunk, never had an interest in drugs, and the gap in his memory unsettles him more than he'd like to admit. That, and the fact that he doesn't understand what the hell Minho was thinking, inviting him to come back to bed. Sure, Chan wants more than anything to wake up next to Minho every day for the rest of their lives, but he's never felt that the want was reciprocated.

And- yeah, he's on birth control, but if he can't remember if they used a condom, he probably needs to get a morning-after pill. It's the responsible thing to do. There's a discreet omega clinic Yugyeom told him about that'll give him a prescription, and he can pay himself. The company doesn't have to know.

So that's Chan's day. He deals with the domestic shit he has to get out of the way before debut prep consumes him, and in the afternoon he slips out for a couple hours and comes back with a smile and an excuse about getting coffee with a friend he hadn't seen in a while.

That night, he stays up on the couch with his laptop, waiting for Minho to come home.

He falls asleep like that, between one blink and the next, and in the morning he has a blanket pulled over him, his laptop set to the side, and a sticky note on his forehead- take better care of yourself. come have breakfast. It's not signed, but there's a little jureumi doodle at the bottom.

The note gets folded up and goes in Chan's pocket for later. Chan has a bare dozen like it from over the years that he keeps in a box in his room.

For now, though, Chan sweeps the blanket up around his shoulders and trundles into the kitchen, seeking breakfast. Minho has his back turned, elbow deep in the sink scrubbing a pot, but there's a covered bowl with chopsticks set at Chan's usual place at the table.

"Hey," Chan says as he pulls out the chair and sits. "Thank you."

Minho startles and whirls around, but Chan just blinks innocently at him until the vaguely irritated expression gives way to more fond exasperation. "Yah," he says. "Eat. Didn't you read my note?"

"Of course I did, I just wanted to thank you first." Chan shrugs and uncovers the bowl- it's full of fresh rice and a strip of blackened glazed fish, and Chan's mouth is watering before he knows it. "Wow, this looks awesome, what's the occasion?"

Minho leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. "I know you won't have me to make sure you eat well while I'm away, hyung, so I have to make sure you do it now. No eating just fried chicken for a week straight, you hear me?"

Chan's simple joy- the morning, the prospect of food, of getting some time with Minho- dims. He doesn't want to think of being parted, not now.

"No promises," he says with forced lightness. Taking a bite of fish, he hums with pleasure, savoring the melt-in-your-mouth sweet-savory flavor. It's delicious. Minho's really perfected a few dishes with iterations on iterations, and this is one of them. That he made it even after Chan had been so strange and distant yesterday is just another reason that Chan loves him.

The quiet stretches while Chan eats and Minho keeps washing up. Chan feels it tense and heavy but does his best not to show it. They're adults, they can talk reasonably to one another. There's no real need to feel as anxious as Chan does.

Well. Screw your courage to the sticking place, and all that.

"Minho, do you, um. Do you remember what happened? The other night?"

"Of course I do." Minho turns and raises an eyebrow at Chan, drying his hands on a towel. "You came to bed with me. And then you were very strange about it in the morning. I don't know why you asked to stay if you weren't going to actually stay."

Well, at least he's straightforward about it. Chan never knows with Minho if he's going to get maddening deflection or, sometimes equally maddening, blunt honesty.

"I- I was confused. You never wanted to do a morning after before."

"Before?" Minho's eyebrow climbs higher.

"Yeah, before, when we've had sex, I always woke up alone." Chan tries not to let the hurt of it bleed though into his tone, but he's not sure if he succeeds. Minho's expression just goes blank.

"We- we had sex?" he says, and he sounds- genuinely surprised? How could he not have noticed?

"Yes, we had sex, or I crawled into your bed after fucking someone else, because I woke up with come on my thighs, and I don't remember how it got there, and if you don't remember either you might be able to understand how I'm a little freaked out about this?" Chan's voice rises in pitch until he ends on a point where he's kind of concerned someone else will hear. He doesn't really care, though, because Minho remembering even less than him makes dark foreboding pool in his gut.

"Oh, shit." Minho is pale as a ghost. "I- I don't remember. I- do you remember if we used a condom?"

"No, Minho, I don't! I remember- I remember it was dark, and your scent, and feeling good, but I don't remember. I went out and got a morning-after pill, so we should be safe, but I don't have any memory of why the hell either of us might have initiated it, and that scares me." Chan searches Minho's face for any hint of memory, of any emotion, that might help reassure himself.

"I thought it was a dream," Minho says, eyes far away. "I thought it was just a nice dream, and then I woke up and you weren't there. I always wake up before you. You're saying- it was real?"

That? Not helpful. For Chan's heart or his brain. "Yes, it was real," he says, pretending he isn't wondering what part of the dream made it nice to him. "I just- I don't know what happened." He runs a hand through his hair. Sits back, appetite gone. "You don't feel like- I took advantage of you or anything, do you?"

"No, hyung." Minho is quick to shake his head. "You wouldn't do that, and I- well. Yeah, it's weird. I don't think either of us have the time to make it a big deal, though, huh, leader-nim?"

Chan doesn't know what to think. Or say. The sex was... probably consensual, then, and Minho is right, Chan doesn't have time to make a fuss about finding a medical cause or whatever for a one-off incident that didn't cause any problems with schedules or anything. "Yeah, you're right," he eventually comes up with. "You're right. Thank you for the meal, Minho. I should- go." He feels more awkward than when he started, as he re-covers the bowl and sticks it in the fridge. He'll eat it later, or someone will. He has work to do before his meeting tomorrow with Versachoi and the other producers he's working with on his title track. Now that they've had their contract-mandated cycle period and recovery, things are going to ramp up very quickly. It's how their job works.

But Chan can do this. He just has to focus and put the odd one-night-stand out of his mind.

He heads out for the company, bucket hat and mask firmly on, and resolves to have forgotten it by tomorrow.

~

It's not easy to forget, is the thing. Well, sort of, sometimes, when he's collapsed on the floor panting from running through choreo again and again and again, or when he's in the zone riding a good flow, he can drive the thought of Minho out of his mind for a time.

And then Chan will smell spice from someone else's lunch, or see a clip on Twitter of Minho doing a live, or hear his voice recorded on a guide, and it will drive him to distraction again, the thoughts of does he even care that much? Does he want me at all? Does it matter, when he's leaving so soon?

His manager, Jihoon, notices, of course, but Chan works his usual long hours and makes his deadlines. Versachoi and Younghyun tease as hyungs will when they hear the raw emotion that goes into his B-side ballad, but they mostly ruffle his hair and leave him to his own devices after they're done with work- there's simply no time in their schedules to spend on dinner or drinks together, for better or for worse. Chan makes his deadlines, drops sly hints on lives over the couple weeks before the teaser drops, watches the new episode of Felix's baking show with Minho guesting and lets the warmth of it fill that hidden part of his heart.

The same Friday that they send off the golden disc for final approval before it goes to the pressers- a formality at this point, really- Chan has his yearly physical, squeezed in between the final producers' meeting and an appointment with his stylists to dye his hair back to black from the roots-growing-in blond he's been sporting lately. He's in a good mood after the meeting, and the company shells out for the best of medical care, so it's quick and easy. The doctor asks after his diet and exercise and any recent injuries, he affirms that his antidepressants and as-needed insomnia medication have been working fine and should be refilled, and then a nurse takes a few vials of blood and he's free to go. He'll get an email about his results in a couple days, they'll call about anything concerning, whatever. Chan is whisked off to the hairdresser, where they scold him about using the conditioner they gave him properly, but only lightly, so he jokes around with them as much as he can while two people manhandle his head back and forth and massage dye into his hair.

Heading home after that with a new bottle of color-friendly shampoo, Chan is in such a good mood that he asks the driver to stop at a convenience store, where he picks up a couple bottles of flavored soju and a small cake. He wants to celebrate at least quietly at home before next week, when the first teaser will drop and Minho will shave his head and be off to the enlistment office.

It's good that the first person Chan encounters when he walks in is Jisung. He's energetic enough and eager enough to cut into the cake that by the time other people start to trickle in, Chan is vibrating with sugar-fueled energy and doesn't even flinch at the sight of Minho and Hyunjin walking in arm in arm and sniping at one another. He can tease and giggle and demur when his boys ask for a hint, just a little listen, any kind of spoiler, because he's proud of his album but he's also devastatingly nervous. What if it doesn't do well commercially? What if Changbin and Jisung are offended that they didn't get much input, the fact that it was up to their busy schedules notwithstanding? What if, what if, what if...

Well, he tries to put his worries aside. There's no going back now. Instead, he swipes the last piece of cake, ignoring Felix's pout, and proceeds to compartmentalize. He's had a lot of practice at it lately, so he does okay, flopped on the couch with his legs slung over Felix's lap, laughing at how bad he is at Smash.

"Soju, Chan?" Hyunjin tries to hold out a cup, but Chan waves it away.

"Nah, not feeling it tonight. I got it for you to enjoy."

"Is that why you got the cheap shit?" Hyunjin says dryly, but he relents and sits leaning against the side of the chair. Chan flops his arm over so he can pet Hyunjin's hair, and together they neg Felix and Changbin until they get controllers thrown at them.

A great night, all told.

~

The next day, Chan wakes up late, but all he really has is afternoon dance practice and then a schedule meeting, so it's fine. Sure, he's going to practice that one turn until his legs fall off, but that's pretty normal.

Except he turns over and checks his phone to see three missed calls from the doctor's office, as well as the expected email about his blood panel results.

Frowning, Chan first clicks open the email, but he doesn't know what all the abbreviations mean, never mind the amounts. Giving it up as a bad job, instead he scrubs a hand over his face and sits up before pulling up the voicemail.

"Bang Chan, this is Doctor Song calling from Seoul National Family Health. I'd like to chat about your blood panel at your earliest convenience. Please call this number back when you're available so we can talk."

Well, that's not particularly helpful, but it does signal that maybe this is a conversation that Chan will want to have pants on for. He heaves himself out of bed and digs in his closet for clothes, washes his face and brushes his teeth on autopilot, then locks his door securely before actually calling. If he's dying or something, he wants to be prepared to go out for a good last day before he kicks the bucket.

The call connects, the receptionist verifies his information, he waits on hold... it's a little nerve-wracking, so when the doctor actually picks up Chan jumps a little at the click.

"Bang Chan? This is Doctor Song." The doctor's voice is smooth and kind even over the phone. Chan wonders if this is how he delivers bad news to all his patients. "I wanted to let you know your results as soon a possible, so you can think over your options."

"That's me. My... options?" Chan tries to keep his voice clear, even if his leg starts to jiggle.

"Yes, your options. There's really not a very delicate way to say this, Chan- are you sitting down?"

"Yes, I am. Am I- am I sick? I-"

"No, you're not sick, Chan, but you're pregnant. The amount of HCG in your blood is unmistakable, so you must be several weeks along."

Chan goes very, very still. His ears are full of static. He can't speak for a moment, then he hears himself say, "I'm sorry- are you sure there was no mistake? I don't- I haven't-"

"I'm sorry, this must be a shock, but we did confirm with the lab that there was no mistake. Our records show you were due for a heat around the time you would have concieved- are you sure you didn't miss a day of your birth control or forget a condom?" Doctor Song's voice is gentle with sympathy. "Sometimes these things just fail, it happens. The good news is that our office offers both in-house abortions and an excellent male omega pregnancy specialist, so whatever you decide, you will be well supported."

Chan belatedly realizes he's stopped breathing. He forcibly sits back and takes a deep breath, two, three, until his brain kicks back into gear and he can think. He needs to think. What does he do? What does he need to do? "Okay, I- thank you, I appreciate it." Be polite, get off the phone, have the panic attack, think it through. "Can I call you back later? I need a little while and I- I have work to do today."

"Of course, of course. Call us back when you've done some processing, and we'll be happy to set you up for a consult with our pregnancy specialist, Doctor Jeong- she's wonderful at taking people through their choice, whatever it is. Alright?"

"Alright," Chan says faintly. "I'll call later. Have a good day."

The line goes dead, and Chan curls in on himself and panics.

It takes him a good fifteen minutes to get a hold of himself. His main thought is: how? It's obvious when- Chan can account for all his birth control pills being taken on time every day, and for the use of condoms during the days of the cycle with Minho, but- that night, that fucking night, he doesn't know. They must not have. Somehow. Stupid, so stupid of them, and Chan can't even remember it.

But eventually, he can't let himself stay hunched and pathetic. He has work to do. He has to get up, he has to pretend everything is fine, no one can know. Absolutely no one can know until Chan has his shit figured out. His face in the mirror is blotchy and pale; he washes it again methodically, tugs on a medical mask, and resolves to tell people he's got a cold.

On autopilot, Chan heads out of the dorm. He'll walk. He has time before practice, and it'll let him warm up his stiff muscles and think.

Okay. First thing. He's pregnant. Some tiny part of him is holding out for it being a mistake, but logic dictates that it probably isn't, so he has to consider as if he really is.

Does he want a child?

The immediate answer, from a deep part of himself, is yes. Of course he wants a child; he's wanted kids since he started really getting an idea of what he wanted for his own family, in the future. He wants to live in a home filled with his childrens' laughter, raise them with just as much love as Chan had known from his own parents and their pack. So... yes, he wants kids.

Does he want a kid now?

The thought almost stops him dead in the street. A man shoulders into him, mutters an apology, and hurries off again, but Chan hardly notices, because the answer that rises isn't no. It's not yes, but it's not no. There's something about the idea, about raising a child with his life as it is now, with Minho as their father and the whole Stray Kids pack as their family, that's oddly appealing.

Minho is their father. Chan's beloved, his best friend, the man he leans on- but he's also leaving. On Tuesday, Minho leaves, and Chan doesn't know what to do with that.

He nearly smacks his nose on the plexiglass barrier at the entrance turnstile of the JYP building before he remembers himself and hastily scans his ID. The receptionist giggles at him, and he gives her a sheepish wave before he's at the elevators and heading up to the practice room. Maybe if he drowns his thoughts in hard exercise, he'll come out with some clarity.

~

Hours later, the choreographer crouches next to Chan's prone form on the ground of the practice room and pats him on the chest as he heaves for air. "Good work today," he says. "The tutting sequence is getting sharper. Just a little more work on the twist before your second verse, okay? Your body line has to be more open."

Chan gives a thumbs-up and a weak smile. "Yup," he says between breaths. "Got it. Thank you, seonsaengnim."

"Yah, call me hyung already," the man laughs. "So polite, Chan-ah. You're doing well, go get some rest. We'll work hard tomorrow, right?"

"Fighting!" Chan says. He flops over, shoves himself up on limbs that feel like jelly, but the burn of overworked muscles feels good, satisfying. The endorphin rush is starting to kick in and wash away the pain, giving him the energy to slump over to his bag and chug his water bottle. Fuck, he needs a shower before his meeting- does he have time? He checks his phone and he has twenty minutes, so probably.

His eyes catch on a notification- an email from Seoul National Family Health.

Fuck. He needs a shower.

Chan gets up, bows to the choreographer, slings his bag up on his shoulder, and heads out of the practice room.

The meeting is static. Chan knows he's getting strange looks, because normally he'd have more input, would clarify more to ensure his schedule is solid, but he can't break himself out of the fog he's in.

Afterward, Jihoon comes out after him, puts a hand on his shoulder. "Chan," he says, "Are you sick? If you are, you know you need to rest before you start filming interviews next week-"

"I'm alright," Chan shrugs. "Just a cold. I'll kick it before filming, there's no need to worry."

"If you're sure. You know yourself best." Jihoon squeezes his shoulder gently, seeming to search his face. "You work hard. We're proud of you."

"Thank you, hyung." Chan nods, quirks a smile, and pulls away. "I'm going to head home. Text me the details for next week, alright? I'll make it happen."

"I have no doubt you will." Jihoon smiles at him brightly, because he has no idea anything deeper is wrong. He's going to be so angry if he finds out. "Go on, get. Take a nap if you can, yeah? You look like you could use it."

Chan just nods, his throat too full of guilt and worry, and leaves. He'll make the consult with the specialist for tomorrow, once he gets back to the privacy of his room. He needs to make his choice- and make it soon.

~

The next morning, he sneaks out before the rest of the dorm is up, gets breakfast at a cafe, then heads to the consult. He's lucky they had a 7AM slot available- he didn't sleep well at all, and he's frissioning with energy, needing to keep moving, keep working, but he can't until this is decided.

Doctor Jeong doesn't keep him waiting long. The waiting room is nearly empty, this early; the receptionist is cheerful with her cup of coffee and Chan is cordial enough to her. He's keeping it together. He has to keep it together. When he heads back, the exam room has one of those terrible chairs with stirrups that Chan hates, so instead he sits on the exam table.

The door opens a few minutes later, and Doctor Jeong is a tall woman, strongly built; Chan can't smell a scent or tell a subgender. Her smile is warm, though, and she greets him easily before she sits down at her computer. "I'm Doctor Jeong Jieun. It's good to meet you."

"It's good to meet you too, Doctor." Chan looks at his feet. "I- I was told you could- help me with options? For, ah, an unexpected pregnancy?"

"Of course. We offer either surgical or pharmaceutical options for abortion as well as support though the process of pregnancy up to birth. If you don't mind telling me, do you have an idea of the circumstances that led to your pregnancy? If there were any extenuating circumstances, they may affect the viability of the fetus and how likely you are to be able to carry to term."

The clinicality of it- is a help, somewhat, to steady Chan's racing heart. He takes a deep breath, then another. "Um. Well, I think so? But I'm not sure. I had a heat that I spent being safe with an alpha about three weeks ago, but I- it was shorter than usual, and then later that week after it had ended, I don't know what happened, I don't remember, but we must have had sex and I don't remember if we used a condom or not, so I'm guessing that was it? But I even got a morning after pill after that, so I don't- I don't understand. We were so careful." Chan's voice, damnably, breaks. He still can't look Doctor Jeong in the eye.

"You don't remember?" The doctor's voice goes sharp. "Was it non-consensual?"

"No, no, no-" Now Chan looks up, panicked. "No, he doesn't remember either, and I have- impressions of it, and I wasn't scared or unhappy. I just don't know why we did it, our relationship isn't usually so spontaneous. Most of the time we only share cycles."

"Hmm." Doctor Jeong still looks faintly suspicious. "You said the heat was shorter than usual? Were you suppressing it?"

"I- well, sort of?" Chan tilts his head, thinking. "I didn't take any before it, but one of my packmates got sick about three days in and I was the only one around who could take them to an urgent care, so I took a suppressant then. It seemed to work to kill the symptoms and didn't cause any problems. My alpha did too, so he could check on the rest of the pack while I was gone. Why?"

"Ah, I see." Sympathy now, instead of suspicion, and that makes Chan's stomach turn over. "It makes more sense, then. Most suppressants can be used carefully to lighten a heat, but when they're used like that, coupled with a stressful situation, you're doing something more like telling your body not now, later instead of stop. It may work in the short term, but the hormone cycle still needs to be completed, and instead of happening over the course of a heat, you can get incidences of something like an extinction burst, where your body decides that it's going to finish in the course of a day or just a few hours. During heat you're far more likely to fall pregnant, even on hormonal birth control, but during such an event your symptoms would be heightened, you likely would be actively ovulating, and morning after pills are far less effective when implantation has already occurred." She pauses then, to breathe as Chan takes all that in. "Do you have any questions about that?"

"No," Chan says, choked. Well, that makes terrible, awful sense. He's never taking medication against the recommended use ever again. "I understand. I just- we were so careful. If my company finds out-"

"Anything you share with me is strictly confidential, as any other medical data would be. That's my job. Have you given thought to what you want to do?" The doctor runs her eyes over him, taking in his age, his no doubt intense eyebags, his messy hair. "You seem like you're pretty stressed about it. That's normal. Have you spoken to your alpha about it? I assume you're not bonded, but he deserves to know."

"No, I haven't spoken to him. I just don't know what to do. I've been in the industry for fourteen years, you know? I've done a lot for my music, and it's still my dream, but..." Chan hesitates, searching for the right words. He's always found it easier to pour out his feelings to strangers- he's done it mostly weekly for years- but he always has to hold himself back in front of the public, maintain his image. Here in the confidentiality of a doctor's office, he can say what's on his heart. "I do want children. And my contract is for eight years, so renewals are coming up soon, and I could just- have a kid and go, maybe even cut a deal and break my contract early if I wanted. But something big is coming up for me, a great opportunity, and I don't want to throw it away, and my alpha... I don't know if he would want that. He's a good friend, but like I said, we don't have much of a relationship that's not... just for utility."

"I see. Well, I still advise telling him if you decide to keep the pregnancy, even if you intend to raise them alone. For now, I certainly can't make your decision for you, but I urge you to take as much time as you need to be certain. Talk to your family and your pack, but in the end your decision is your own." Doctor Jeong pushes up her glasses, and her smile turns softer. "As for your job, I've worked with plenty of idols who had children, and yes, their careers slowed down, but that's not necessarily a bad thing after you've been working hard for so long. With a good support system, it turns out well more often than not."

"Okay. That- that makes sense. Thank you." Chan swallows and nods. It's good advice, honestly, even if he's not sure he wants to call his mom and tell her he got himself knocked up. First of all, she'll absolutely know it's Minho, and second of all, she'll be really nice about it but she wants grandchildren more than anything, and it's not like Chan's siblings are going to give her any anytime soon, what with the alpha-alpha relationship and the asexuality.

Maybe he will call Hannah, if only so she'll pretend to smack him upside the head and call him a lovestruck idiot as she always does when he whines to her about Minho.

"Alright, that's good to hear. Don't hesitate to call if you have any questions, alright? I'll send you home with some information on your options." Doctor Jeong types a few things into the computer, then turns to a drawer and starts rustling around in it, producing several pamphlets that she presses into Chan's hand. "Do you have any other questions for me right now?"

"No, I don't." Chan slips the pamphlets into the bottom of his bag. He'll lock them in his desk at home. "I appreciate your help, Doctor, really. I'll probably call by the end of the week."

By the end of the week, Minho will be gone, and Chan will have to start making live public appearances. It's not as long as he'd like to make the decision, but it's what he has, so he'll make it work.

He walks out of the doctor's office with a lighter heart, at least. When he comes home, it's to a still-silent dorm- Sunday morning sleep-in- and slipping back into bed to finally catch a couple hours of exhausted sleep isn't as hard as it's been.

~

Sunday slips by. Chan gets up, goes to dance practice, goes to vocal training, calls his siblings, does Chan's Room, goes to bed. Monday does too, like sand in an hourglass, far too fast for Chan to even try to slow down. He gets up, does a recorded interview, does recorded variety, has a photoshoot review, has a sponsorship meeting, goes to bed.

On Tuesday Chan gets up. They have the morning off, and management is paying for the group to have breakfast together so they can get one last selfie in to post later. Chan gratefully eats well, decadent omurice drizzled with kewpie mayo and ketchup, stealing bites of Changbin's French toast and sliced fruit, tolerating Hyunjin and Seungmin taking bits of egg from his own. Minho stabs out at any interlopers with his chopsticks- he also has French toast, though his has more chocolate than condensed milk. He only allows Felix one bite, but he looks proud when his dongsaeng manages to grab it, only teasingly tapping his nose before going back to eating.

The meal is over far too soon for Chan's taste, too, because in the past couple days he's resolved that he will speak to Minho about the pregnancy, but time is running out as they head back to the dorm to do last-minute packing. Chan still doesn't know what words he's going to say; usually he prides himself on his speeches, but there's no good speech for this.

Of course, in the end, it doesn't matter, because once they arrive Minho says, "Excuse me, Chan and I are going to take a minute," drags him into his room, and shuts and locks the door. When Chan sputters at him, caught wrongfooted, Minho just says, unimpressed, "Something's up with you, and you have-" he checks his watch "-thirty minutes to tell me what it is before I'm not here to screw your head on straight for you for a while, so spit it out already."

Fuck, Chan loves him so much. What refreshing bluntness, after the equivocating and acting and role modeling he does all day. With Minho, Chan can be himself.

"I love you," he blurts, with far more feeling than he means to, and Minho flushes bright scarlet. Chan presses his lips together, takes a deep breath, and lowers his tone. It takes all his courage to keep his voice from shaking with everything he's been holding inside himself for the past few days, the secret and the emotions and the internal battle. "I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to just say that. Um, the thing is, Minho, you have a right to know this, and I don't want to hurt you, but by the time we could talk again it would be too late, so- I'm just going to say it, alright? And then I'll help you process as much as possible before you go. Okay?"

"Sure, Chan." Minho is searching Chan's face,  examining him closely, and Chan hopes that he can read the honesty there. "I trust you."

It knocks the wind out of him, the admission. He has to take a second and wet his lips before he says, "Oh, my god, I hope so. I just- fuck, Minho, I'm pregnant."

Naked shock paints Minho's features. It blanks out everything else for a terrible five seconds before he goes through a face journey that Chan can barely interpret. Hope? Fear? Longing? Chan doesn't think he sees disgust, at least.

"...You're serious," Minho says at length. "You're- I got you pregnant?"

"Takes two to tango." Chan laughs and it's half a sob. He's been so worried about how Minho would react, he never thought that he'd blame himself for it. "Yeah, my bloodwork from my physical caught it. I went to a specialist and she told me how it could have happened, and I'm just- it's no one's fault, it was an accident, but fuck, Minho, I start promoting live soon, and I'm going to miss you so damn much."

Again, Minho goes still with surprise. "Then- you're-? You're not-?"

"It's all I've thought about since I found out on Saturday," Chan says quietly. He can't interpret Minho's expression now, for all that he tries, but hope lifts in his chest. Minho doesn't look angry, or hurt, or like he's going to turn away- Chan knows all those faces, on his beloved, stubborn alpha, and this isn't any of them. "I couldn't be sure until I talked to you. I don't know what you want, Minho, but I want- I want to be a father. And I want to do music, and I think our pack is strong enough to help me make both things happen. I don't know what the company will say, but if I can convince them I will, and if I can't it's not going to stop me."

"Oh," is all Minho says. "You're very sure, then." His face is still blank. It's starting to hurt, twisting the insidious knife of he doesn't want you, doesn't want this.

"Yes, I am," Chan says slowly. "I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want. But- say something, Minho. Please."

"Why?" Minho says. "If you have your mind made up, you don't need my input."

Chan doesn't understand. He'd thought Minho would have some kind of opinion, at least; he's certainly never hesitated to speak his mind before, especially in private. "Of course what you think matters. Your opinion matters to me, because I- I care about you. I meant what I said, Minho, I love you."

Minho's face closes off completely, only the faintest hint of pain hiding behind his eyes, and Chan knows he's stepped wrong but doesn't know where. "You can't say shit like that, Chan. I- I have to go. I can't stay, and you know it, and you- fuck." Minho turns his back swiftly, shoulders hunched in and shaking. "Fuck this. I'm going. I'm going."

"Minho-" Chan reaches for Minho's shoulder, but he rips away, grabs his duffel, tosses a notebook inside, and zips it up violently, struggling with the zipper as he goes for the door. Chan is suddenly scared, so scared- this conversation has gone terribly wrong, and he has to fix it. His eyes are getting hot and his voice wavers, but he makes another grab and misses. "Minho, please-"

"No. I'm going." Minho looks back at Chan one last time, expression wretched for just a flash of a second before he visibly puts himself back together. "Goodbye, Chan. See you in three months."

The first tears streak down Chan's face when the door shuts with a final click. Alone in Minho's room, surrounded by the warm scent of alpha that Chan wants so badly but can't have, he buries his face in his hands and cries.

~

It's Changbin who comes to find him, after Minho is long gone and Chan has curled up on his bed, too tired to care about appearances any more. The afternoon sun is getting low over the buildings outside, but Chan hasn't moved much apart from to bury his nose into stronger sources of sweet-spicy scent.

"Oh, hyung."

Changbin's voice is low and sympathetic, but Chan still flinches. He's moping and it's pathetic and he doesn't want to stop yet, but the world keeps on turning with or without his consent.

"What happened, Chan? Minho wouldn't say." Changbin's weight settles on the end of the bed. When Chan dares to look up at him, exposing the puffy tear-streaked state of his face, he coos, sliding a little closer, bending his neck. Thoughtful, in case his pack leader is still volatile, but Chan just feels scraped out and hollow, and he'll take the simple comfort of a hug. When Chan sits up and wraps his arms around him, Changbin stiffens a little, but he does reciprocate. "Yeah, alright, sure. It really was a rough one, huh?"

"I told him-" Chan's voice breaks, and he pauses to wet his lips and tuck his chin more firmly over Changbin's shoulder before he can try again. "I told him something- something you all have a right to know, I guess, but I wanted to tell him first. And he- he didn't want to hear it, I guess. I don't know what he was thinking, but he just- he left. He left me."

"He was always going to leave." Changbin says, soothing but a little bewildered. "It wasn't anything you did, he had to."

"It was me." Chan squeezes his eyes shut, feels heat prick at the corners of them again, but he's tired of crying. "I made a decision he didn't like, and he wouldn't listen when I asked him to hear me out, he just kept saying he had to leave."

"Hey. Listen." Changbin says firmly. "Whatever it was, you've argued before and it's always been fine. He's stubborn and allergic to showing emotions, you're stubborn and allergic to asserting your own wants, it's normal. He'll get his head on straight and next time you two talk you'll kiss and make up like always."

Chan flinches, and of course Changbin notices. He pauses, and says slowly, "Chan, did you try and have the conversation about how disgustingly in love with him you are today?"

"No!" Chan yelps. "No, I mean- I told him I loved him I guess, but I wasn't trying to, I wanted to talk about something else, and it just- came out!"

"Hyung." Changbin pulls back some and fixes Chan with a serious look. "Why? You know Minho hates being ambushed with feelings, you should know he would just panic."

"I know," Chan says quietly. "I know. But, um. The other thing, that I meant to talk to him about, the decision- I'm doubting myself now. He has a real reason to be angry with me, and so do all of you, honestly. I haven't changed my mind, but if I'm going to hurt you all so badly, maybe I should."

"If it's something you want so badly you'll make your first selfish decision since we debuted, we'll make it work," Changbin says firmly. Chan barks a surprised, wet laugh, and Changbin bops him on the nose. "Do you wanna come tell us about it over dinner? So we can have a real conversation about it? Whatever it is?"

"Okay. Just-" Chan swipes at his eyes, takes a deep breath, lets Changbin's scent temper Minho's so he isn't tempted to bury himself in the covers again. "No one else is here, right? Just the boys?"

"Yes, hyung." Changbin raises a curious eyebrow, but doesn't comment further. "Come on. We're having kalguksu, and I even helped cut the vegetables, so you have to tell me it's good, okay?"

"Okay, Bin." Chan nods and lets himself be pulled up. "Thank you for helping." If he means more than for the meal, he's sure Changbin understands.

~

"This can't leave this room, alright? It'll come out eventually, but only when I'm ready." Chan looks at each of his boys in turn, his beloved group members, pack members, who he half-raised into the men they are today. He loves them and trusts them, knows they won't break his confidence, but this is important. They nod back at him, warm-curious-determined, and he takes a deep breath, looks down at his lap, musters up his courage.

"Okay. Please just- hear me out." He licks his lips, and continues. "During our cycles last month, Minho and I made a mistake, and it wasn't really anyone's fault, it was an accident, but I found out last week that- that I'm pregnant. And I know it could cause some issues, but... I want to keep them. I've thought about it a lot, and I want to keep them, and I'd love to raise them as part of the pack- our pack. It's not the best time for it, of course, but I can probably convince the company to let me go forward with promotions if my doctor clears me, and I figure after that I can keep doing Chan's Room with some careful camera placement, and then take a medical hiatus while I'm on paternity leave. It could work. I want to make this work."

Chan can't look at them. The silence after the initial gasps presses down so that all he hears for a moment after he cuts off his speech is blood rushing in his ears.

"Okay."

"What?" Chan's head snaps up, eyes wide with surprise. His eyes land on Felix, who'd spoken quite clearly for all Chan is sure he'd misheard. "Just- just like that?"

"Sure." Felix shrugs, tone light even if his eyes are serious. "You said you'd given it a lot of thought, and you clearly have, and I trust you. If you want to have and raise a kid with us, now, I'm not going to lie and tell you it'll be easy, but you'll have my support."

Hyunjin, beside him, nods determinedly. "You're our pack leader, hyung, you chose us and we chose you. That's not going to change with the addition of a little one." He wrinkles his nose. "It'll be a good excuse to finally move out of these dorms into a proper pack house, anyway, we've been living here way too long."

"But-"

"Fuck, I'll be enlisting right at the end of your paternity leave, probably." Changbin's eyebrows are drawn together with worry. "I can put it off some, but I'm glad our pack's so big, getting a routine down with them and then shaking it up won't be fun. The rest of you are going to have to pick up the slack without me and Minho here, you hear me?"

"If you think we aren't going to help, you're stupid." Jisung sticks out his tongue. "You really think we'd abandon him to be what, a single dad? We're a pack, we're a family, that would never happen."

"I- guys-"

"We're a family." Seungmin says seriously. "We made that commitment years ago, and if this is what you want to do, Chan, we're all at your back, but are you certain?"

Ah. This is more of what Chan expected.

"Minho is gone," Seungmin says, calm, almost gentle. "He won't be a consistent presence back with us until your child is over a year old, and just as Changbin said, we likely won't be whole as a pack until they're already five. And even with that aside- are we ready for that stage of life? Are we ready to take care of a new person who is totally and utterly dependent on us? Are we ready for our careers to slow down, not just yours but all of ours as we have to turn down or are never offered opportunities because we have something else as our top priority?"

Chan couldn't meet Seungmin's eyes if it weren't for the fact that he's not angry at all. He's laying out his concerns one by one, but he's not being pushy, he's not saying no- he only cares deeply about Chan and about the pack, and he wants them to know it.

"The answers might very well be yes," Seungmin says, calm. "But I can't- we can't- just assume they are. Okay?"

"Of course." Chan nods quickly. "Of course I understand. Of course that's okay. I never expected you all to agree with me, you should know that by now." That gets a twitch of a smile out of Seungmin. "What would help you to be more sure? Do you need time, or research, or you could come to one of my doctor's appointments with me-"

"Time, for now." Seungmin cuts him off firmly. "If I need something else I'll tell you. I think we could all use a few days to think and ask questions and get used to the idea. Alright?"

"Alright." This is solid footing again- even Chan's most unpopular decisions as pack and group leader usually shake out like this. He knows how to deal with it- with an unlocked door and an open mind. "Come to me, text me, call me, you all know the drill- and I'll think about it too. Is that okay with you?"

His eyes land on Jeongin, who so far has been suspiciously quiet. He's fidgeting in his chair, worrying at his lip, eyebrows drawn together. Chan can read him clear as day, but- he feels guilty? Why?

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Seungmin's smile softens into something more real. "Thank you for hearing me out, hyung, it means a lot."

"Of course. Anything." Chan's eyes are on Jeongin until he looks away. "Anything, I swear."

~

It's hard, to carve out time for this, but it's important. Chan can't keep calling Jihoon to ask him to push things around for a personal matter forever, but he has capitol from years of responsible work to spend, and spend it he does when Jeongin asks him to be late to morning dance practice so they can talk. He looks so nervous Chan literally drops his bag to walk back to Jeongin's room with him.

"What's wrong, Innie?" Chan starts right out with it once the door is closed behind them and they're both sitting on the bed, half-facing one another. He makes sure to keep his body language open, in case Jeongin wants physical reassurance- much more likely in private than when even the pack can see them. "Is this about-?"

Jeongin shifts uncomfortably, not meeting Chan's eyes. He draws a knee up to his chest, and Chan is about to open his mouth again to reassure him when Jeongin finally bursts out with "I'm really sorry, hyung, I didn't mean for- for any of this, and it's dumb but it's my fault, isn't it? That- that you and hyung fought, and that you're dealing with this, and now the pack is too, and it might even ruin your debut, and I'm- I'm really sorry."

"Oh, baby." Chan reaches out to place a careful hand on Jeongin's knee. "No, none of this is your fault. None of it, okay? Why in the world would you think it was?"

"Because- because I made you leave, in the middle of your heat. I couldn't just put up with it for a few more hours, I just- went to you like a little kid expecting you to fix it." Jeongin doesn't move closer, but he fiddles with his fingers like he wishes he could touch. "And you didn't even think twice about it, you just- fixed it. Like you always do."

"Jeonginnie, I'm your leader and your hyung, of course I don't want you to be in pain. I'm the one who made the mistake. I made the decision to do what it took to make sure you were safe and healthy, and now there are consequences we have to deal with, but in no world will I or anyone blame you for it." Chan takes Jeongin's hands in his, kisses the backs of them like the precious things that they are. "You're my family, and I love you. I'd do anything for you, you know that, right? My maknae. My baby."

"I know, hyung." Jeongin takes one hand back to swipe at his eyes, turning away as if Chan won't see his tears. "I know you're my family, but- you'll have another baby to take care of. We all will. I won't be the youngest anymore." He laughs wetly, and Chan's heart breaks.

"You'll always be my baby. No matter what. Always." Chan takes hold of Jeongin's face, turning it towards him, making sure Jeongin looks him in the eyes. "I will move heaven and earth for you, and that will never change."

"When have you ever not?" Jeongin's smile is wobbly, but it's there. He pauses, then says, "It's a good quality for a dad to have."

Chan inhales sharply. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're going to be a great one. I'll just have to be the coolest uncle." Jeongin's smile grows stronger. "There's going to be a lot of competition. You've got so many people who will want to help, hyung, you know how many friends you have."

"Ah, stop." Chan feels the tips of his ears turn pink as he scratches the back of his head. "I just like to keep up on the industry."

"You know the names of every staff member we've had since before debut, and I heard you talking about treating that new trainee you like to meat. You're good at people. Even you can't pretend that's not true."

"Alright, alright." Chan takes a moment to take a deep breath and pretend he can get his blush under control. "So you're okay with this? With me keeping them?"

"I'm... actually kind of excited?" Jeongin grins bashfully. "I've really wanted kids for the pack, too, actually, for a while. I didn't think it would be this soon, but I'm not upset about it."

"Oh." Chan doesn't know what else to say for a moment. "I'm- I'm glad. Thank you for the support, Jeongin, it- it helps."

"Of course, hyung." Jeongin pats Chan on the head, then wipes at his face until most of the wetness is gone, and Chan could hardly tell he'd been upset. A little fond and a little sad- the life they lead makes hiding negative emotion a necessary skill- Chan slings an arm around Jeongin's shoulders to tug him up.

"C'mon, let's get to the company building together and then hyung will treat you to ramen for lunch, okay? For old times' sake."

Jeongin comes willingly as Chan guides him out. "Sure, but you have to spring for-"

"Two extra eggs in yours, yeah, yeah. We working out together tomorrow?"

"Ughhh. Yeah, fine." Jeongin makes a face. "You can't make me try your lift again, though."

Chan smirks. He's increased his limit lately, bulking for his debut, and he's proud of his work. "No promises."

"Hyuuung!" Jeongin whines, and Chan knows- things between them are perfectly fine.

~

Hyunjin, who's the least busy right now with just brand promos on his plate, is the first to come with questions. Then Felix, after a meeting to discuss alternate transportation for his trip to film in Jeju. Changbin comes nervously, bearing his own research on male omega pregnancy and speaking quiet fears about Chan's mental health. Chan reassures him that postpartum he'll be proactive about seeing his therapist, and he'll make sure his meds are safe for pregnancy.

Jisung doesn't have questions. He just wants to talk in meandering circles about Chan being sure to take care of himself.

Seungmin takes the longest, almost long enough for Chan to break and go to him instead. But one day he texts- you free at 2? and look at that, Chan is, once he's made his excuse of "Pack business, sorry" to Jihoon, who just sighs.

"I'll be ready to pick you up for the shoot when you're done, Chan-ah."

"You're the best!" Chan chirps sunnily, already halfway out the door.

He works restlessly until 1:30, when he texts home? or out? and gets home, bring ice cream back. Well, Seungmin is right, they are out, so from the convenience store on the way he grabs a box of melona bars.

Seungmin's smile when he's presented with the box doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it's warm enough. Chan flops down next to him on the couch and gets right up in his space to get a good scenting going, not quite as close as usual in case he wants space but unable to resist leaving his mark entirely.

"You smell like that friend of yours," he grumbles, though he keeps his tone light. "What's their name? Inko?"

"Of course I smell like them, they picked up the lighting assistant job at my film set. We just talked, hyung, don't be weird about it." Seungmin sighs, but he doesn't try to push Chan away too hard, so this is probably fine for now. "Did you want one of these?"

"Nah, thanks. Diet." Chan wrinkles his nose. "But I don't think that's what you want to talk about."

"No, hyung." Seungmin sighs again. The box on the table is starting to acquire drops of condensation as it melts, but he doesn't pay it any mind, just looking into the middle distance, far away. "You said you want to raise your kid as part of our pack. Does that mean if I said no, you wouldn't do it?"

Ouch. Straight to the point. It hurts a little, to think of a future where Chan hides this and pretends like it never happened, but he's played out every possible scenario in his brain over all of his sleepless nights and the ache of it has faded some.

"Maybe," Chan says carefully. "Does that mean you're saying no?"

"No, that's not what I mean." Seungmin makes a frustrated noise. "I mean that- it's your body, so ultimately it's your choice. That'll always be true. But we're your pack, and you chose us, too. You bonded us and we wanted you to, and that's a promise not easy to break. I guess- I guess I wanted to know if- if you were thinking of. Breaking it."

Seungmin's voice trembles a little, and though his face is schooled to impassive his scent betrays his struggle. Chan is momentarily too floored to respond, but when he gets his wits back about him he snatches Seungmin right over into his lap and cuddles him ferociously.

"No," he says. "I- I thought about it, at first, if you guys didn't want me as leader anymore, but I will never abandon you. You're stuck with me for life, alright?"

"Oh. Okay." Seungmin just nods a little, but the trembling of his jaw betrays how affected he is. "Okay, then. Um. I did wonder, too, what you're going to do about... Minho?"

Chan cringes before he can stop himself. Minho will be on media blackout for a couple months yet, but after it's going to be awkward.

"He's a grown alpha who can do what he wants," Chan says helplessly. "I can't make him want a child. He's always been good with kids, you know that, but I've never been sure if he wanted one of his own. Much less with, uh, me. He could be just another pack uncle, if that's what he wanted."

"Hyung," Seungmin sighs. "He cares about you, he's not going to hate you, and he's not going to blame a child for being born. No matter your decision, he's part of our pack, too, and you're stupid if you think he's going to give it up. What I meant was- are you planning to talk to him? Maybe in a way that's not ambushing him half an hour before he enlists?"

"It seemed like an okay idea at the time," Chan grumbles, but he can see in retrospect that he hadn't exactly gone about it the right way. "But I am. I mean, if he'll see me. He might still be angry. He was- he was really angry, I think. Upset, at least."

"If he won't he's an idiot," Seungmin says archly. "Almost as much as you are. If it's a problem, you know we'll help you two get to the table, alright? You have to do the work after that, though. What will you say to him?"

Chan meets the glint of challenge in Seungmin's eyes head-on, his own gaze locked. "I'll tell him I'm sorry, and that I love him, and that I didn't want to hurt him but I know I did. Ask him how to make it up to him, I guess. And... tell him my decision."

"And what will you decide, hyung?" Seungmin says, light for all that this is the question at the crux of the matter.

"That depends, Seungmin-ah. Will you be happy, if I introduce so much struggle into your life? Can you say you won't be upset with me? You know yourself best. Can you honestly say you won't resent me for this, even if life gets harder?"

Seungmin gives Chan a long look. Chan tries not to fidget under it, not to return to scenting on reflex as a way to soothe the tension. Seungmin needs to make his own decision, and make it with a clear head.

"I can. I trust you to do what's best for us- personally and professionally. And between the eight of us, we can do this."

~

Chan leaves a message that very day with Seoul National, requesting a newly expecting health check, then calls Jihoon and asks to arrange a formal meeting with their management team about recent pack developments. Jihoon doesn't seem that surprised, but he does remind Chan that he might not want to rock the boat too much with contract renewals coming up.

So that's going to be a thing.

But at the same time that he's sick with anticipation, he's buzzing with excitement. The company will be easy and hard- Chan is almost certain that they won't choose not to renew over this, but he doesn't know what he might be forced to compromise to keep the Board happy. What he does know is that Doctor Jeong has kept his confidence so far, and from what he saw of her she'll be happy to see him confident in his decision.

He doesn't ask anyone to come with him to the management meeting, but both Jeongin and Hyunjin volunteer to come to the doctor's appointment, which is very sweet of them. Unfortunately the meeting comes first, and Jihoon has mentioned that PD-nim will be there, which makes him a little nervous, but it's better than any of the board members deciding to sniff around his pack. Chan knows JYP, and however much he's clashed with the old alpha over the years they have a mutual warm respect. It's going to be fine.

And it starts out fine. Chan begins with pleasantries, because he likes to keep up with their staff- their head stylist Hana's mother is recovering well from surgery, Seungmin's manager Hyunwoo is wearing a new engagement ring and is surprisingly shy about it.

But eventually there's no more stalling to be done. Jinyoung looks at Chan across the table and raises a curious eyebrow, and Chan inclines his head. Down to business.

"I understand this may be a sensitive matter," he says, in his best laying down the law voice. "I understand that this may present a hardship to some, and for that I apologize, and humbly ask that you continue to take care of myself and my pack as excellently as you have been doing, with safety and privacy at top of mind. But I have made my decision, with my pack's support, and I do not intend to change my mind."

Chan pauses, takes in the myriad of surprised expressions around him, and says, "I recently discovered that I'm pregnant, and I intend to keep the child and raise them as my own."

Immediately, raised voices clamor all around him. "Who's the father?" "When did this happen?" "How could you be so irresponsible-"

Chan keeps his eyes on JYP, who has said nothing, but his expression has gone flat and cold. "During my last heat, my birth control failed. I spoke to a doctor and she explained to me the very slim possibility, and I believe that's what occurred." Maybe a slight fudging of the truth, but it'll help his case, and it's certainly not untrue. "Regardless, I don't intend to abort, and I don't intend to stop doing my job. Teasers for my debut have already been posted, and it's early enough that I may not even be showing by the time promotions are finished. I will make this work."

"Chan-ah," JYP says, very evenly. "Have you considered all the ramifications of this decision?"

"Yes." Chan meets his eyes without fear. "You know my diligence, PD-nim. I am determined to move forward. I am here to ask that the company support me in doing so."

"The company cannot force you to terminate. But we cannot spend more than your album makes on you, and if your pregnancy is revealed before it's cleared with Public Relations, then your contract will not be renewed." JYP's eyes narrow, boring into his hoodie-covered shoulder. "It may be a tabloid disaster either way, but it will be more controllable- and better for your career- if we spin the story first. Even more so if you are mated."

He lifts his hands when Chan's jaw drops open, ready to spit shocked indignation. "The company cannot interfere in your pack affairs or dynamics. But as a suggestion, from someone who cares for you- the world is not kind to an unmated omega parent. Take that as you will."

"It doesn't matter," Chan says, all icy stiff formality. "PR can get back to me when they like, and I will adhere to reasonable requests as I have always done. I simply have some logistical requests, for now. Jihoon, I have a specialist appointment on Thursday that I made sure would not conflict with my existing schedule..."

The meeting wraps up quickly after that, the staff members- some of whom Chan has known for years, since he was practically a child- clearly unsure, some of them curious, some of them upset. But Chan isn't in the mood to answer any more questions at the moment, so he locks himself in his studio until he's sure no one will be hovering outside to talk to him anymore.

His phone pings while he's eating dinner at his desk- quicker than he expected, but sure enough a new NDA is waiting for him and the rest of the pack to sign. He reads it thoroughly three times through, and doesn't find anything particularly onerous- the pregnancy and anything related to it is a company matter until after the company is ready to go public, and that's nothing he wasn't already intending. He signs with his finger and sends it back. That's company politics dealt with for now.

The appointment with Doctor Jeong is much less tense, though it's a lot of information to cram into his brain. Antenatal classes and health screens and a nearly exhaustive medical history, to try and anticipate any problems before they occur. She says he can stay on his current medications, though he should be diligent about getting enough sleep.

"I understand that in your line of work you work hard and long hours," Doctor Jeong says, "But please try to find a balance. At the very least, six hours a night. I'd ask for seven, but I know that's unrealistic."

"Yes, ma'am," Chan says, sheepish. "I'll do everything I can. My mother had trouble sleeping with me too, I think- I might ask her for help."

"Good," she says approvingly. "See if you can get any other information from her about how her pregnancies went, too. It's all useful information, no matter how insignificant it might seem."

"We'll talk to her," Hyunjin says cheerfully. "She won't suspect a thing. I'll just ask her how much trouble hyung was and she'll be happy to talk about it, she loves me."

Chan puts his face in his hands, the tips of his ears burning hot, but he's smiling. By the time he walks out of the office and into Jihoon's van to head off to dance practice, he feels much better, on more solid ground.

Jihoon looks back at him in the rearview mirror and says, "You doing alright, Chan-ah?"

"Yeah," Chan says. "Yeah, just fine."

Go time is two weeks out. Time to actually make it work.

~

Chan throws himself into debut with everything he has, and it's hard. Balancing his health and his baby's health with the fact that this may well be the last time in a very long time that he gets to perform is a constant struggle, one he fights tooth and nail to keep steady. The first week of music shows goes off without a hitch, thank fuck; the second, he spends half his time at venues hunched over a toilet as morning sickness sinks its claws into him. He blames it on a stomach bug and makes his soundcheck time anyway, because he has to. Thankfully it eases by the third week, when his stamina is starting to flag, and he manages to keep his smile in place, for radio spots and interviews and fancalls that slowly but surely drain him of his manic crunch-time energy.

But despite the struggle and fear- he debuts. Solo. The exhilaration of it, of the success and recognition he fought so hard for so long for, is intoxicating, and it carries him through. He doesn't get any music show wins, but he wasn't expected to, and his album sells well enough to chart even if it never makes a big first place, and the fans never seem to suspect any hidden depths to his tiredness on Chan's Room.

The last day of promotions, when Chan is almost home free, utterly crawls. The last stage is exciting, of course, but it's also brutal on his exhausted limbs, and then the photos and the interview after and saying goodbye to all the staff feels like it takes forever. Only when he tumbles back into the van to head back to the dorm when it's all over can he decompress, and by then it's dark out, if only barely.

He texts Felix- chicken and pizza for dinner?- because it's an old standby, and they haven't had time to really enjoy a meal together since Chan debuted and the rest scattered to the four winds for their own work.

Sure, Felix texts back. I'll treat, you've done well❤️

Lixieeeee no, Chan sends, but he knows it's likely too late. He sends a selfie of himself pouting instead of protesting further, and resolves to treat the next couple times. Or maybe just ambush him with Aussie snacks. Though that's also semi-self-serving, because Chan's brain deprived of calories will go straight for Tim Tams every time.

Well, whatever. Chan can be excused his cravings. He's pregnant, after all.

So they have chicken and pizza, and Felix has a six-pack of beer, and Chan whines at him for teasing but doesn't really mind not drinking. Mostly he enjoys the closeness. Changbin and Jisung stumble in late from a radio recording, and Chan lets them pick at the leftovers for the price of letting Chan cling. He breathes in their scents slowly, reminds himself that he's home, his pack is here to care for him. The pack as a family unit is something Chan is going to have to get used to leaning on, after all. Even if Chan is the birthing parent, they've elected to come to his antenatal classes when they can, and Chan is so grateful for them and their support sometimes that he could cry. A working pack like theirs was doesn't always develop into a family one, but Chan's boys have risen to the occasion as admirably as he ever could have hoped.

There's still the trailing ends of comeback things to wrap up, of course- lucky draw fancalls and an appearance at some charity gala and some finishing touches on the production for his next SKZ-RECORD- but those are quick and easy to prepare for and right now, Chan wants to sleep for a week.

When he gets up, out of the fog, he can start focusing on the baby- the first ultrasound will be soon, since they're big enough to see now- and focus on doing as much work for his pack as he can while he can. They'll start negotiating new contract terms in a couple months, and Chan's going to have to brush up on family pack law.

Pregnancy is full of new surprises, as time feels like it's slipping through his fingers again. According to an app he downloads, his baby is the size of a blueberry, then a plum, then a peach. Morning sickness doesn't return, thankfully, but he knows some days he's more swollen than he should be, and the stylists cluck but don't make remarks when he goes in for makeup. The charity gala is a lot of fun, actually- he finds a couple fellow idols to talk to, and the food's not bad, and he's happy to hear about the quite near possibility of clearing the Pacific Garbage Patch. He's always wanted to leave the world better than he found it, and now he has even more reason to do so.

At three months, when he sees the ultrasound for the first time and hears that his baby is perfectly healthy, he cries. He can't avoid it, especially with Felix there to hold his other hand as he swipes at his face fruitlessly. Doctor Jeong has gotten used to the rotation of packmates that come with him to his appointments, but he thinks she likes Felix the best. She's dropped a couple hints about the two of them being cute, and now she eyes their intertwined fingers with a pleased expression.

"You'll be a good uncle," Chan says deliberately, leaning into Felix's side. "Isnt that right, little brother?"

Doctor Jeong startles a little, but Felix only laughs. "I'll be their favorite uncle. No question about that, since I'm your favorite little brother, right?"

"Always," Chan says indulgently, like he doesn't give away the title of favorite to anyone who does something nice for him on a given day. "Fuck, sorry, I don't mean to cry on you. Your shirt's all gross."

"Who cares, hyung?" Felix snorts. "Like I haven't cried on you enough before. I'm just glad you're happy."

"Really happy," Chan says fervently. "You don't know how happy."

"I think I can get an idea," Felix says, raising an eyebrow. "...Doctor Jeong, would you mind giving us more than one printout? Just in case." He meets Chan's eyes, half exasperation and half a challenge, and Chan squirms but doesn't look away. He texted with Minho to get them a lunch date in relative privacy the very day he could, getting short responses most of the time, but Minho didn't outright refuse, so that's something.

Minho doesn't entirely hate him still. Probably.

~

Lunch is... awkward.

Chan booked out a private room in a restaurant they both like, so the only person who might overhear will be the waiter. They make small talk over bowls of udon, and Chan tries not to stare too obviously at Minho's clipped-short hair. It's not as short as the original near-shave, of course, but it's a far cry from the elegant waves Chan knows he prefers to wear.

Two years. A little less than two years, and then he can.

Minho seems content to ignore the elephant in the room, even once they're both swirling dregs in their bowls, but Chan can't help himself. They have to talk for real or he'll go mad.

"Minho," he says cautiously. "I've... really missed you. I mean, we all have, but... I have especially. I didn't know if... I hurt you too badly for you to miss me, though." He looks down at the table, fidgeting with his chopsticks so they'll lie precisely parallel.

Minho is silent for what feels like an age, and then he says, "You really are stupid, hyung."

Chan cringes. "Yeah, I deserve that. I'm so-"

He's cut off by the sharp shriek of Minho's chair being shoved back, and then warm arms tight around him. He freezes in surprise, breath catching in his lungs, and then melts. The scent of Minho, his beloved sweet-spicy alpha, surrounds him, and if a few tears escape, well, he can blame it on the hormones.

"Of course I missed you, you big idiot." Minho says. "You're my family. That doesn't change in three months."

"I thought-" Chan says, a little wobbly but doing his best to keep it together. "I didn't know. You wouldn't say what you wanted, so- so I didn't know."

Minho pauses. His lips thin a little. "You weren't thinking. You said things you didn't mean."

"What?" Chan is taken aback. "I meant everything I said, Minho, I wanted your opinion-"

"You're my pack leader, Chan. My group leader." Minho searches Chan's face for something he doesn't seem to be finding, something he's on the edge of frantic without. "And- we were unlucky. Isn't that true?"

Chan flinches, wraps a protective arm around his middle. There's the barest pudge there, now, easily hidden by the loose shirts and hoodies he favors. "Don't say that. Maybe it was luck, but-"

"Oh."

Minho doesn't seem to realize he'd spoken. His eyes are fixed on Chan's belly.

"I'm going to be a father." Chan says, as gently as he can. "I don't know if you want to be. It's okay if not. But my pup is growing well."

"Oh." Minho says again, and then he drops to his knees. Faintly alarmed, Chan leans forward, but Minho reaches out and says "...Can I?" and Chan can't refuse him.

Minho's fingers draw up his hoodie, his shirt, but he hesitates to touch, so Chan takes his hand and lays it right against the bump. It fits in his palm still, it's so small. When Chan flexes his abs, it gets a little more pronounced, and Minho half-giggles hysterically. "Are you supposed to be doing that?"

"Doctor Jeong said it won't hurt them, don't worry." Chan lets a tentative smile creep across his face. "They're healthy, and so am I. I just got back the tests for genetic defects, and they're clear. Don't know their gender, though."

"This is real," Minho says, barely a breath. "You're pregnant and it's mine."

"Yours," Chan agrees just as quietly. He leaves the other half of their confrontation aside for now. Just this victory is enough to lighten his heart. "If you want them, I'd love to raise them with you as their papa."

"Don't know how good of a father I can be," Minho says. "Being gone for so long."

"I don't care. Our lives are just going to be like that, hell, I don't know how good of a father I can be, but I'm going to give it my all." Chan shrugs. "You'll be back before they start forming real memories. I can send pictures and letters and stuff, while you're gone. Oh- speaking of."

Minho takes the spare ultrasound image that Chan fetches from his bag with careful hands, mouth forming a little o shape when Chan taps the greyscale nugget that represents the baby. "The pup. Growing well, like I said."

"Chan." Minho bites his lip, clearly torn, but he does stare down at the picture with a lot more vulnerability than his usual. "This is... a lot. I'm not angry at you, but this is a lot."

"I understand. I told the kids, any questions they had, if they wanted to yell at me, just call, you know? Same for you, even if you can't always get away to do it."

"Oh, believe me, I have some questions, but I do need to get back soon." Minho's grip tightens on the picture. "Can I- keep this?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Chan grins at Minho, far wider now that the tension is eased. "Call me when you can, okay? The kids, too."

Just as startling as the first time, Minho draws Chan into a tight hug before he leaves. Chan hugs him back with the same intensity, until Minho pulls away, and Chan is watching him leave.

It's not the same as last time, though. Now, Chan has hope bright in his chest, and a dumb smile spread across his face that won't go away.

~

Four months along, Chan gets two weeks to go home and spend some time with his parents and their pack. They do have to sign an NDA as well, but the shriek his mother lets out when he actually says the words I'm pregnant may be enough to alert the neighbors anyway. She hugs him tight right there at the kitchen table he grew up at, and his father gives him the proud smile that's an uncanny mirror of his own, and both of them bombard him with a thousand questions about how he's preparing and it's really not so bad as he thought it might be.

Until Chan's father says, "So when is that alpha of yours coming to see us again? He has to know he's always welcome in our home too."

"He- he's not my alpha." Chan looks away. "He's my packmate. And he had to enlist, you know, we put it off long enough that everyone's going to be in and out for a few years. So... yeah."

"Oh, Chris."

Chan forces a smile, aware it doesn't reach his eyes but trying to keep things light. "It's okay, really, even if the company keeps pestering me about mating. I have the pack. Minho's said he might be willing to coparent when he comes home, and we're looking at proper pack houses now, so there'll be plenty of room."

"You know we'll come up to help in a heartbeat if you need us, baby."

"Honey, he has his own pack." Chan's father gives his mother a gentle look. "They're grown up enough to handle a pup between them."

"I know, I know. But you'll always be my little Chris." His mother pinches his cheek briefly. "At least let us visit, once you're out of the first few months."

"Of course, mama." Chan rubs at his reddened cheek, but he's mostly joking. "We'll let you know when we're ready for family. I'm sure everyone else's parents will want to dote too."

"We'll make it a party! It'll be good to see them again." Chan's father says, perking up so that Chan can't help but laugh.

"I don't know how much of a party it'll be, but we'll see if we can make something happen. Just be patient, okay?"

"Of course." Chan's mother kisses the crown of his head, pulling him into another tight hug. "We love you very much, baby. We just want you to be happy."

"Love you too. Thank you." Chan closes his eyes and leans into her, happy to let her hold onto him while she can.

~

Around five months is when Chan finalizes things with the company for after the birth. He has paternity leave, of course, but there's also the matter of Minho being the other parent, and Chan's unwillingness to budge on his child growing up as far removed from the spotlight as possible. All of them are aware, too, that Chan's employment contract- and his work visa- depend on maintaining the relationship, so he comes to the table with things he's ready to compromise on and works from there.

First, his baby will never appear on camera, not even blurred, until they can decide for themselves what they want. Their name won't be released, or even the exact date of birth, and their address will remain a secret to anyone who doesn't need to know, even in the company. It's possible they can pretend the baby is a staff member's, if it's ever necessary, though Chan hopes fiercely it never comes to that. After conferring with Minho, they decide that while it was rather an open secret who they spent their cycles with, it's best to leave no ambiguity and ask for Minho to have the parental rights, not just the immediate family rights their pack is entitled to.

After that, and after some spirited discussion with both Legal and PR, it's determined that it may very well be best to conceal the pregnancy entirely. Chan will go on medical hiatus, to the world, and slowly integrate back on a reduced schedule as he's ready to.

The issue of Chan being unmated comes up again when Minho isn't in the room, and it dies just as quickly when Chan dismisses the idea out of hand. He won't force Minho into a mating bond just to satisfy the subsection of the public that'll see him as a irresponsible whore for having a baby out of wedlock.

Best that they never discover his little one exists.

~

Six months in, Chan has a bit of a scare. A small one. Tiny, really.

Okay, so maybe he collapsed, but he only fully blacked out for maybe two seconds, and only because he hadn't been drinking enough water that day and when he stood up from sitting on the floor to monitor Changbin his blood pressure dropped into the basement.

But no one listens to him when he says that he's fine. He has a new note from Doctor Jeong to enforce him getting more bed rest and a new set of vitamins and supplements and instead of letting that be the end of it, his pack and Jihoon team up on him and he's on medical leave a full month earlier than he'd hoped. They don't force him, but he can't resist the combined force of Felix's big sad eyes and Jihoon's quiet worry. He'd already written the letter that goes out telling Stay that he'll miss them but he'll be back, and that he hopes they'll respect his privacy, so it's easy enough to publish along with a bare-bones statement from the company.

Well, at least he can do most house hunting work from bed.

The real estate agent he finds is wonderful, sensitive to the fact that their pack wants to move as soon as possible, but also to the absolute necessity of secrecy. She takes them on showings under false names, and it's not long before they find a place they like, a little ways out of Seoul but not too far to catch a train in. It's on the high end of their budget, but nothing that'll break the bank, so after a little haggling the place is theirs.

Chan isn't allowed to do much heavy lifting, which isn't very fair, because he's the one who doesn't have work to do right now, so shouldn't he be the one doing the most to get them settled into their new home?

The answer is a resounding no from pretty much everyone, so Chan instead sulks all morning on their first Moving Day (there's two, because not everyone could be around all day) until he decides that he'll go crazy if he's around the utter chaos for one more minute and goes for a drive. It's a lovely August day, warm but not too hot, and once he's relaxed enough he calls Jamie, who he's pretty sure is in town. Sure enough, she's available, and perfectly happy to let him sprawl on her couch and eat too many honey butter chips and get destroyed at Smash.

And then do it again the next day, because they're still moving furniture around and Chan refuses to get in the middle of Minho and Seungmin's bitter battles over the orientation of the new kitchen table. He is officially Over It.

His room, the pack room, and the nursery are the places he gets the most input, but for the first honestly he just wants it how it had been before, and that's easy to get the pack to do for him. The pack room has contributions from all of them, so that's easy enough too- Chan just makes sure they have the right kind of sheets and bed liners he likes, and that's enough for him.

The nursery, though. The nursery is a new space, and it's Chan's but it's also Minho's and it'll be the pup's, too. He's told Doctor Jeong he doesn't want to know their gender, and gender is dumb anyway, he knows, but he's still stressing about paint and toys and clothes, things that probably won't even matter once they've arrived but seem important now with the excited buzzing of the pack around him. Even Minho doesn't have many suggestions when Chan texts him, only a whatever makes you happy, hyung.

He settles on a nice shade of green for the walls, a tall crib from a local woodworker that Jihoon recommends, and a recliner that he sat in at the store and felt immediately relaxed in, but for the rest he eventually throws his hands up and whines at Seungmin until he agrees to order the rest of what they need online in bulk. It's more subtle than going out in public to buy baby things, anyway, and risking being seen.

He's been lucky for most of his pregnancy, that it hasn't shown so much on his frame, but in month eight he starts needing to wear paternity pants, and he gets assigned more bedrest, and between the two he practically never leaves the house. Which isn't a bad thing, he loves the house, but fuck if he doesn't miss being able to take a damn walk without the double whammy of back pain and fear of saesangs.

By the time he actually has to yell for Hyunjin to grab the hospital go-bag, he is so fucking ready not to be pregnant anymore. He will do birth and be happy about it because then he will have a baby and be able to sleep on his back. It'll be awesome.

Twenty hours of labor later, he's too fucking exhausted to do anything but clutch tight to his new daughter. She's the most perfect thing he's ever seen in his entire life, the most beautiful baby that's ever existed. He can't take his eyes off of her. His heart is full and his eyelids are heavy and his whole body hurts and feels gross but his pup is so beautiful.

"Iseul," he mumbles. "Bang Iseul. My little miracle."

Chapter Text

The first month of having a baby is a blur. It's barely sleeping and figuring out how to get Iseul to take a bottle and constant whiplash between the deep affection he feels whenever he sees her face and the instinctive panic whenever he hears her crying, because what if he fucks this up, what if he hurts her, what if she stops breathing in her sleep and he doesn't notice in time? The strength of his attachment almost scares him sometimes, the urge to wrap her up and hold her to him and never let her go again. It's like a piece of his heart jumped out of his chest and now she's looking at him with utter blind trust and he doesn't know how to handle it except to give her the whole world.

That's usually about the point in his spiral when one of his pack forces him to eat something and take a nap. He's pretty sure he's still taking his meds on time thanks to them, too.

Maybe most of his functioning is because his pack is caring for him, honestly. But he's busy doing most of the functioning for his daughter (his daughter!) so he hopes he can be forgiven.

Sometimes, too, in his more coherent moments, he thinks of Minho and wonders what he would think of Iseul. Wonders if he's happy, wonders if he's getting enough rest, wonders if he misses home, but those are nothing new. What's new is the precious new person that he made- that they made together.

She grows so quickly. One month, two months, and Changbin is preparing to enter the service, too. He doesn't want to go, that's very clear by the way that he hovers even more intensely than before, but he has to, and Iseul is starting to sleep more than an hour at a stretch, so after delivering an impassioned lecture about self-care that's totally inappropriate for a beta to give to his pack leader- the kind that makes Chan smile, because he knows that under the bluster it means I love you, I'm worried about you, I want you to be better- he marches off and that's that.

And Chan does better. Partly it's just the growth curve of a newborn, but partly he finally leaves the house and sees someone who's not a doctor or a JYP employee, and it feels like breathing new life into him. It's the dead of winter, so it's far too cold out to take Iseul anywhere even bundled up in every blanket they own, but Chan entrusts her to his pack and goes for long walks. He buys hot chocolate from a corner store, stops to chat briefly with one of their new neighbors who's out walking a fluffy little dog. They don't seem to recognize him, but they're warm and friendly, and the dog gives him a dog-grin when he scratches their ears, and only the buzz of the timer he set on his phone to get back home prompts him to turn around and hurry back.

It feels like waking up from a nap at a weird time, or surfacing after a long dive, or like he just blinked and he's missed the world passing him by. His phone has dozens of unread messages from his friends wishing him well, a few from the company updating him on group statistics and recent public statements, and two from Minho.

Send a picture of Iseul.

Actually, send me a picture of both of you.

Chan easily translates that to I know you're focused but I want to see how bad your eyebags are so I can scold you about them and smiles. It's almost word-for-word the texts he used to get when he stayed too late at the studio too many nights in a row. He takes a quick selfie of himself smiling in the recliner, Iseul asleep on his chest, and sends it, along with Come see us soon!

Then he looks at the sheer amount of people he needs to reassure that he isn't dying and sighs. Most of them get a quick couple of lines. Some of them get more, with a promise to hang out sometime when he isn't so occupied. Only a few more get the selfie: his parents, Changbin, Younghyun, Sana, and Youngjae. The surprise and delight he gets back make his heart warm.

Maybe he should actually have a party soon. It'd be part belated housewarming and part belated baby shower. And an excellent excuse to get the people he loves together in one place.

Yeah, that sounds really nice. He'll talk to the pack about it.

~

Chan is well enough on the day of the party to help decorate, and he's privately proud of himself. The green balloons tied to the sidewalk lights out front are cute, and Iseul eats well an hour before guests are supposed to start arriving, so she's all dressed up in one of her cutest onesies, and Chan even had time to tame his curls out of their perennial mess. He's genuinely excited to see his friends again, to introduce them to the new center of his life. He's missed them.

The doorbell rings for the first time about twenty minutes before Chan first expected anyone to arrive, though. He's still sitting on the couch with Iseul, reading while she lies in his lap with her pacifier and a rattle. He hears someone get the door, and muffled conversation, but he doesn't have time to get up before Seungmin leads Minho around the corner and says loudly, "I'll let you two catch up. Shout if you need anything, I'll be, uh, around."

He winks at Chan, who stares at him wide-eyed for a moment before his gaze snaps to Minho.

Minho, who's pulled up short, staring at Iseul. Chan recognizes the expression. It's the same desperate longing he wore when he saw Chan's first ultrasound, but now it's clear, less burdened by guilt. He licks his lips, and with seeming great effort tears his eyes away and up to Chan's face.

Chan takes a breath and smiles. "Hey, Minho-yah. Do you mind taking her for a minute? I need to go to the bathroom."

Minho sputters, taken off guard. Chan only lifts an eyebrow at him. "I know you know how to hold a baby, Lee Minho. Just a minute, I'll be right back."

Chan does move with care as he passes Iseul over, making sure that Minho is indeed holding her correctly, but he really does actually have to piss now that he's said it, so he rushes off as soon as he's sure.

When he comes back, Minho is bouncing her with a hand cradling her head, a little awkward but not too sharp. Chan slows his pace just so he can watch Minho's face open with surprise and wonder when she lets out a little babble.

"She's really cute, isn't she?" Chan says, moving closer to take her again. "Isn't that right, little one? You're a cutie, that's right, you've got this whole pack wrapped around your little fingers." He plants a kiss on each of her cheeks and her nose, then grins up at Minho, because he has to know their daughter is, in fact, the best.

Minho looks so smitten, so head over heels, and if Chan had somehow forgotten that he's in love with this alpha, it would remind him exactly why.

Fuck, he wants to kiss Minho so bad.

But he has better self-control than that, so he just says "You've been doing okay? You're looking a little skinny."

"You sound like my mother," Minho huffs. "I'm okay. The guys in my unit are cool. The work is boring, but who cares?"

"I care, Minho-yah. I care that you're getting enough sleep, and you aren't too stressed, and that you're not getting the shit end of the stick. I-" Chan swallows, lowers his voice. "I care about you. I want to see you happy."

Minho lets that pass with a slow blink. He looks down at Iseul, still with that same warmth in his eyes, and says "I'm happy to be home. Even if it's in a different place than usual."

"It's a good home. It's- it's been really good. I can't wait until you get to stay." Chan coughs, looks away, and is interrupted from speaking again by the doorbell's chime.

"Go be a good host, Chan," Minho says, taking a step back. "Let your adoring public shower you with compliments."

"Yah," Chan says without heat. "Come with me. They're really Iseul's adoring public, so might as well have both her dads there, hmm?"

"...If you insist." But Minho is smiling, small but pleased, and the way he looks at their daughter is like he's starting to realize what being her dad really feels like.

~

Chan didn't realize how much he missed his friends until he's greeting them one after the other, introducing them to Iseul, getting brief catch-ups on what they've been doing lately. A lot of them shoot Chan knowing looks when they see Minho standing beside him, and Chan despairs of how obvious he must have been in the past if so many can clock his feelings now.

Well, so what if he's happy. Even if he's really happy. He's allowed. His daughter is well, his pack is well, his partner co-parent is well-

"Ahh, Younghyun!" Chan laughs, squirming as he's swept up and spun around. (Thankfully, Minho is back to holding Iseul, just as carefully and lovingly as before. Chan trusts him to treat her as the most precious thing in the world.) "Put me down, I'm not that small anymore."

"Ah, you'll always be my little Channie. Small enough to fit in a box." Younghyun scents him casually after his feet are firmly on the floor, just a brush of wrist against wrist, but Chan still sees Minho tense out of the corner of his eye. "Jae's sorry he couldn't come, he's got a working session with a team in Europe he couldn't get away from. He's so jealous I get to meet your little one first."

"This is Iseul." Chan says, turning towards Minho properly. Minho doesn't seem all that enthusiastic, but Chan figures he's probably getting tired of standing in the foyer, with all the cold air being let in every time someone new arrives. Iseul is certainly starting to fuss every time someone new touches her, too. "Wah, she's getting tired of all the excitement, though. Ah, poor baby. You can say hi, hyung, but then we'll probably get her put down for a little while. People who are late get to wait."

"Hi, baby Bang," Younghyun coos, reaching out with a finger so that she clamps onto it with her tiny fist. "She's just as cute as you, Chan-ah, really. She's got your nose, that helps."

"She's got my eyes, I think." Minho says abruptly, still looking at Chan with that odd intensity. "She's going to be beautiful when she grows up."

"That she is," Younghyun says, raising an eyebrow at Minho. "Of course she is. She has wonderful parents."

Chan looks between them curiously, but eventually shrugs it off. "Minho, can you go set her down in her crib? I'll take hyung to the kitchen so we can sit down to eat soon."

"Sure, Chan." Minho's cheeks are a little flushed as he passes by, and he presses his cold nose to Chan's throat, making Chan jump a little and laugh.

"Hey!"

Minho is gone up the stairs, though, looking pleased with himself, so Chan leaves it be. Instead he bumps Younghyun's shoulder with his and says, "Come on, let's go bother Felix. He's been experimenting with pasta lately, it's always really good and he lets me sample if I ask nicely."

"Channie," Younghyun says slowly. "Listen, I don't want to intrude if it's not my business, so feel free to tell me to fuck off, but- you aren't mated?"

Of course. This again. "No," Chan huffs, rolling his eyes. "He doesn't want to. We're doing fine without it."

"Uh-huh," Younghyun says, lifting his hands. "Sorry, sorry. But- you're sure he doesn't want to? The way he is with you..."

"He was very clear about it," Chan says, abruptly feeling very tired. "He doesn't want a romantic relationship with me. We're co-parents and that's enough. Iseul will grow up loved by us both, and we're still pack."

"Sure," Younghyun says, but he still looks a little skeptical. He doesn't push any further, though,  just holds out his arm and says, "Let's go see if I'm charming enough to get a sample out of Felix too or if you're special, hmm?"

"Of course I'm special, hyung," Chan huffs again, turning up his nose. He takes Younghyun's arm, though, and tugs him towards the kitchen.

~

Chan's parents come to visit the week Chan comes back from hiatus. Partly to meet their new granddaughter, partly to help watch her in case the transition period doesn't go well, and partly because Minho's parents are also visiting, so they can bond over their sons always being too busy to call.

Chan spends three hours in meetings at the company building on that first Tuesday morning, and expects to make it a fourth, but he's caught off guard when he gets a text from Jihoon. Next strategy meeting is canceled. Meet me downstairs, I'm taking you and a guest to lunch.

Chan frowns- he'd been under the impression that the company was going to prioritize spreading out his work, and they'd need to discuss where he would be best used- but he won't say no to an early lunch, after he'd risen early that morning and couldn't get back to sleep.

Jihoon claps Chan on the back once Chan heads out the side door to the parking deck. "C'mon, I left the car warming up. Your guest is waiting."

"You're the best, hyung," Chan says. "What's the mystery for, though?"

Jihoon winks. "You'll see. You holding up alright today? You haven't had to do all this for a long time."

"I'm alright. It's not really the work that's hard, I've been doing plenty of logistics even during my break, it's just the sitting... still..." Chan trails off as he catches sight of the young woman sitting in the passenger seat of the car, breaking instead into a run that he will never admit leaves him winded as he approaches.

His sister Hannah is staring at her phone and doesn't see him until it's almost too late, so he gets the door open and pulls her out, sweeping her into a tight hug. "Hannah!"

"Chris! Fuck off, I almost dropped my phone, you asshole," she says, but she's laughing as she does. She wraps her arms around his neck tight, half greeting and half threat. "Don't you have better things to do than bully me?"

"Never. That's my job." Chan tightens his grip for half a second before he lets go, pressing their wrists together briefly to get her scent before he climbs into the back seat of the car. It really is cold and he didn't wear his warmer coat. "Come on, sit with me. How's Anu? Did she come too?"

"Yeah, she's at the house with Mom and Dad, she said she wanted to take a nap after the flight. I wanted to go out, though, and if you're paying for lunch..." She flutters her eyelashes and he can't help but laugh.

"Hyung said he'd treat me, so have pity on his card, alright? There's a place down the road with great tangsuyuk and naengmyeon, how does that sound?"

"Sure, sure." She waves a hand at him and smiles at Jihoon in the rearview mirror as he gets in the driver's seat. "Let's eat well together."

It's not private- they get interrupted once for a fan to ask him for a photo, and funnily enough once by a fan of Hannah's- but lunch with her fulfills Chan's soul. He's energized by her presence, able to spar verbally in English and Korean both, and she doesn't breathe a word about Iseul. He can commiserate with her about distributor snafus, complain jokingly to Jihoon about his afternoon schedules with a personal trainer and a new vocal coach, and both of them treat him like him and not just an extension of his baby. Of course, he loves his daughter with everything in him, but he's still Bang Chan of the Stray Kids Pack, too.

Being Bang Chan of Stray Kids, though, is a bit different, and means that they can't linger over lunch for too long. Jihoon drops Chan back at the company and leaves again to take Hannah home, but not before reminding Chan that he's on duty to assist with trainee evaluations the next morning. The company might be nominated to judge Show Me the Money next season, and Bang Chan would be a catch for the show. Joy.

At least he does get to go home early so he can nap before dinner.

His mother and Minho's father cook, so the house smells wonderfully like galbijim and haemul-pajeon when he wakes up. He washes his face before going downstairs- even post-pregnancy, his skin gets so oily so quickly- and finds his parents and Minho's all seated around the table already, eating; Iseul is seated in her high chair, and Hyunjin and Seungmin are seated next to her, tag-teaming feeding her.

"Ah, hello. Guess I was sleeping hard, but I wish you'd woken me." Chan takes his usual seat and reaches for the nearest serving platter, but before he can start loading his plate, Minho's mother takes it and starts doing it for him.

"We're here to help you, Chan-ah, not make you wait hand and foot on guests. Goodness knows you work hard enough. Now eat well, understand?" She fixes him with a very Minho-like glare as she passes him his plate, heaped with rice and meat and side dishes.

"Yes, ma'am," Chan says, ducking his head. He applies himself to his food swiftly- he is starving- though he does keep an eye on Iseul. She's just recently started mirroring the baby-KSL they've been using with her, and he can't help but smile when he sees her turn her face away from the spoon and sign no!

Once he comes up for air, he realizes- "Where's Hannah? And Anu?" He'd been just waking up when food became his immediate priority, but now he looks around, and he knew many of the pack had schedules or other things they'd be doing tonight but he'd thought they would have more chairs filled.

"Jeonginnie took them out," Hyunjin says. "They were going to go visit Myeong-dong, so I'm sure they'll be back late with plenty of new hideous things to wear." He wrinkles his nose. "Maybe he'll make them do his OOTD post with him instead of me."

"They'd probably like that," Chan grins as he nibbles at another wedge of jeon. "So will STAY. Nice surprise."

"STAY already know she's in town," Seungmin waves him off. "You two weren't subtle." He doesn't respond to Chan's pout, only going back to wiping at Iseul's chin.

"He's right, son," Chan's father says, smiling even after Chan's pout is transferred to him. "You two are many things, but never quiet."

"I can be quiet if I want," Chan grumbles, but now his parents are off to the races telling stories about his childhood, and Minho's parents simply have to compare, and the rest of dinner goes like that. Chan's protests of his being a grown pack leader of thirty mostly go unheeded.

It is nice to hear new stories about Minho, though. Of his stubbornness being even more pronounced as a child, of his chronically middling grades in history classes, of school friends whose name Chan mostly recognized, and of course, of Soonie, Doongie, and Dori.

No one lets him help with the washing up after dinner, either. Chan is a bit resigned at this point to the continual babying, but he is glad for the time with Iseul. He put down a blanket on the floor and gets down with her, makes sure her pacifier is in place before settling her on her stomach and watching her make flailing attempts to roll over. She manages it most of the time.

By the time she's starting to get tired of that, the parents have settled onto the pack's frankly obnoxiously large couch with cups of hot barley tea to watch the baseball game. Chan checks Iseul's diaper, just to make sure- clean for now- before he picks her up to settle in the recliner. She fusses, but falls asleep against his chest with a bit of gentle bouncing and humming.

"Thank you for coming," Chan says into the comfortable lull as one of the announcers marks the end of an inning. "It- it means a lot."

"It's our pleasure," Minho's father says. He's a soft-spoken man- a long-term company bookkeeper, bent prematurely by chronic illness- and he seems rather unassuming at first glance, but he and his wife are a match for a reason. "Minho cares for you very much, and so do we. Visiting our granddaughter as well makes this a joy indeed."

"Still," Chan insists. "You won't even see your son for the first few days."

"You're both our sons," Minho's father declares. "You have Iseul now- won't you call us eomma and appa?"

Chan feels himself turn scarlet. It feels like a punch to the chest, when he hasn't dared to hope in quite a while.

"Ah, I'm not sure Minho would agree," is all he manages before the game blessedly starts up again on the TV. "I- I think Iseul needs a change. Excuse me." He doesn't look up as he abruptly stands and rushes out of the room, especially since Iseul fusses and starts to cry at being started awake.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he hushes her as he changes her diaper, trying to be careful with his flustered hands. "That's better, baby, isn't it? There you are, all clean. What if I sing for a bit, hmm? The coach told me today I need more practice. You don't mind it, do you?"

He fills the room with chatter until he gets them settled, her in her crib, him leaning over the side to turn the mobile hanging over her. It's terrible posture, but the coach isn't there to scold him as he runs through warm-ups and then a series of ballads she usually likes. The house isn't soundproofed, so they can probably hear him downstairs, but if he's more wistful than usual then that's his own business.

Once she's asleep, he lays out a floor mat and works on some of the exercises his new physio recommended. He's definitely not avoiding going back downstairs. He just hasn't had the time to do his exercises today.

Fuck, it hurts. But if he wants to keep up on the performance circuit, he needs to get back into shape. Crop tops don't look as good post-pregnancy. He's been trying a million different products that are supposed to help with cellulite and stretch marks, but nothing has quite worked to wipe them away. He'll just have to cover up, and maybe the makeup noonas will have advice.

Once he's warm all over, he goes to sit in the recliner and scroll on his phone. He'll go back downstairs in a little bit.

~

Iseul wakes him in the wee hours, crying. He blinks awake slowly, but getting up to change and feed her is almost automatic at this point. The house is dark and quiet except for Iseul, and he does his best to keep his steps light, knowing the guests are probably all sleeping. She doesn't stop crying even once she's changed and dry and fed and burped, though, so he resigns himself to sleeplessness. He walks circles around the nursery, singing to her until exhaustion and dry throat drag at him. He double-checks her all over- no sign of diaper rash, no clothing tag sticking her wrong, no bloating that might be gas. No fever. Just one very unhappy baby girl.

He sighs internally, but before he can get up to start walking with her again, Minho's father pokes his head into the nursery. "Ah, Chan-ah. Having a rough night?"

"Someone is," he sighs. "Can't tell why. She just won't settle."

"You look exhausted, son." Chan is exhausted, but isn't that normal? He's about to apologize for the noise until Minho's father smiles and says, "Would you mind if I took her out for a drive? When Minho was a baby, sometimes the only way he would get back to sleep was strapped in a car seat. You can come with us, if you want, or you can get some sleep in your own bed, but I'd recommend the latter."

Chan looks at the clock. It's four AM; he needs to be at the company at nine. If he sets a couple alarms, maybe he can try and sleep a little more.

"Alright," he says, letting his shoulders slump. "Thank you. Come get me if she still won't calm down, though, please."

"Sure," Minho's father says lightly. Chan is too tired to fight him on it. He kisses Iseul on the forehead, passes her over, and goes to collapse in a real bed for a few more hours.

~

Despite how nice it is to have more trusted hands to help with Iseul, by the time Minho actually gets home for his visit, Chan is a bit frazzled from the combination of worrying about his daughter, his work, and his hosting responsibilities as pack leader and son. It does feel good to get back to work- he feels less helpless, focusing on something he knows he's good at. The baristas at the local cafe have changed, but they still get his order right, which is nice. He can put in a normal day of work- or as normal as it gets in the industry. It just exhausts him.

Chan hates it, honestly. He used to have the stamina to not leave the company building for days, and now he can barely handle nine hours? What bullshit.

Regardless, he picks up the habit of napping after work, before dinner. Sometimes it means he misses the family meal, but there's always a covered plate waiting for him, and none of the family tease him for his weakness.

The pack do, of course. He will never escape the old man jokes. Next October, he'll officially be half sixty.

That's okay. When Minho comes home- driven by Felix, who never fails to lighten Minho's mood- the first thing he does is tromp up to the nursery where Chan is dozing in the recliner and call, "Yah! Old man! What're you doing, sleeping away my visit?"

Chan startles awake and nearly falls out of the chair. "Fuck! What the hell-" He looks up to see Minho, standing in the door still in his fatigues. His hair is short but unruly; sleeplessness has stamped permanent bruises under his eyes.

Minho is still the most beautiful person Chan has ever seen.

He can literally never say that.

"Minho-yah!" Chan cries instead, feigning a swoon. "My hero, you've come home to save your poor defenseless leader from the terrible fate of taking a nap after working hard all day?'

"Exactly," Minho nods gravely. "Even Sleeping Beauty needed to be woken up."

Chan isn't sure Minho ever actually watched Sleeping Beauty. That, or he's fucking with Chan, which is always a possibility. But now Chan is thinking of kisses, soft and sweet to wake a lover and definitely not something he can ask of Minho. Instead of dwelling, he heaves himself up with a casual smile and starts to walk briskly past, only briefly pressing wrist to wrist to scent. "Well, I'm up now. I'm sure you want to see Iseul and eat some real food, I'm sorry I kept you-"

"I saw Iseul. Our parents said they'd hold dinner while I got you." Minho's words are unexpectedly soft as he catches Chan's wrist. When Chan turns to him, puzzled, he lifts Chan's wrist to his mouth to give it a gentle kiss and press it to the scent glands at his jaw and throat as well. "There, that's better. The barracks just smell like new paint and old cigs."

Chan wrinkles his nose to cover his surprise. "Gross. You showered, didn't you?"

"Of course, leader-nim. Only the best Lee Minho for you." Minho gives Chan a little grin and a bow.

"You're in a good mood," Chan laughs, a little incredulous. "Happy to be home?"

"Happy to be with my family." Minho's smile turns into something softer, but he doesn't say anything more before he takes Chan's hand and tugs him out. Chan goes willingly, marveling at how easy the closeness is. He's missed this.

~

Of course, it can't stay so simple.

"Minho-yah, pass the rice?" Chan's father says.

"Yes, appa," Minho says as he does so, seemingly without marking it at all. Chan, in comparison, chokes on his mouthful of pajeon.

"Appa?"

"What?" Minho blinks at Chan. "Haven't your parents been ours for years?"

"Well- sure, but- but- but-" Chan trails off, not quite sure himself why he's protesting so much. Isn't this what he wanted? For them to be close, for them to have a loving, healthy relationship to model for their baby, even if it wasn't that of typical mates. If Minho wants to call Chan's parents as his, why should he have a problem with that?

Logically, he probably shouldn't. And yet it makes something ugly and resentful choke his throat with things he'll never let himself say. Instead, he shoves another bite of pajeon in his mouth and resolutely focuses on eating. He'll feel more normal once he's had a square meal for the first time in twelve hours. He'll be able to ignore whatever stupid, ugly, unproductive thoughts his brain decides to come up with, like usual.

Minho can't leave well enough alone, though. Chan takes Iseul after dinner, intending to have some more floor time with her, but he can't begrudge Minho wanting to spend more time with their daughter while he can.

They keep a few baby books on the shelves next to the bin of toys in the nursery. Chan rifles through them absently, not really seeing the titles, while Minho gets himself settled on the blanket.

"So," he says. "You don't like me calling your dad appa?"

Chan stills. Sighs.

"You haven't all these years. I suppose I don't understand why you'd start now."

"Well, things are different now." Minho is leaning back on his hands when Chan dares to glance back. "Isn't that why they're here?"

"It's my duty to have them here for her hundred days celebration," Chan says. "What, you don't want to see your parents?"

He's deflecting and Minho knows it. "Duty or not, they love their sons."

"Your parents asked me to call them as mine, you know. Or did you put them up to that?"

"I didn't. But it's a good idea."

"It's not a good idea at all. I respect your parents, but really?"

Minho draws back, affronted. "Don't you want that kind of relationship? Shouldn't we be close if we're going to raise Iseul together?"

Chan shuts his mouth on the of course I want that. instead, he grits out "Didn't you not know if you even wanted to be a parent a few months ago? Now you want to treat me, my family, like we're-"

"Like we're what, hyung?"

"You're the one who- never mind. Do what you want."

"Hey." Minho looks hurt. "I'm trying. I thought you'd be happy for us to be closer than before."

"I thought you didn't want to be closer than before. You were angry at me for even the idea of it, so I accepted nothing was going to change. Now it's just fine, without even talking to me about it?"

"I didn't-" Minho sighs. "I'm sorry I reacted that way, but we weren't going to resolve that in half an hour."

"Well, you resolved it for both of us. I thought that was the end of it." Chan shakes his head. "I don't want to fight with you, Minho, we have more important things to deal with. I just don't understand."

Minho is quiet for a long time. Chan gives up on the bookshelf. Instead, he picks out a random little plush toy and settles next to Iseul with it to play with her.

"Things have changed," Minho says eventually. "I don't know... how much. Let me think about it."

"You do that," Chan says. He's more exhausted by the conversation than anything. Iseul babbles up at him, and that at least makes him smile. Even if Minho has decided Chan needs to be tortured further before he gets rejected yet again, he still has Iseul.

~

They vetted the daycare they picked, of course they did. The company did, the pack did, Jihoon did, Chan did long interviews with the workers himself. There were background checks and NDAs and a pile of lawyers to review the contractual language that bound Oh Ha-Joon and his workers.

Still, the man isn't picking up as Chan calls him for the third time now. He's starting to panic more than a little. Chan makes time to call for at least ten minutes around lunch time every day, and Ha-Joon almost always picks up the first time. Occasionally the second, if there's a dirty diaper involved or something like that. Never the third, or the fourth, or the fifth.

Chan's next call is to Jeongin, who would have been the one to pass off care today. Thankfully, he picks up. Chan doesn't mince words. "You saw Ha-Joon this morning, right?"

"Yeah," Jeongin says. Chan had cut him off, and he sounds a bit taken aback. "He was on time, early even. Why?"

"He's not picking up the phone. I'm going to call Jihoon, hold on."

"Hyung-" Chan pays no heed. Something is wrong, he feels it. Some instinct is ringing alarm bells, raising hairs on the back of his neck. He can think, logically, that maybe Ha-Joon's phone is dead, or he's trying to soothe Iseul to sleep in another room, or something else is going on and Chan doesn't need to worry. That doesn't stop him from calling Ha-Joon a sixth time, then Jihoon when it rings through once again.

Chan is pacing like a caged animal in the phone room when Jihoon picks up. "Chan?"

"I need to go home. Or- someone needs to. I can't get a hold of Ha-Joon."

"Hey, Chan-ah, take a breath," Jihoon placates. "I'm sure nothing is wrong. I was at the house just an hour ago and everything was fine. I'll give him a call-"

"I called him! Six times!" Chan snaps, then lets out a long breath. "I'm sorry, I'm just worried. Can the meeting this afternoon with Fendi be moved?"

"We've already rescheduled with them once, you should make it if you can." Jihoon says. "I'm going to call Seungmin-ah and ask him to head home early. Go to your meeting, and he'll call you if something is really wrong, alright?"

"Fine," Chan spits, and hangs up. He makes himself take five more deep breaths, because he is an adult and he cannot walk into the meeting looking and smelling like he's ready to go on a rampage. Fendi likes him- that's why they picked him as an ambassador- but high fashion houses are sometimes even more focused on appearances than the idol industry.

He clings onto his composure by the tips of his fingers, but he manages to hold it together through the whole thing. He even manages to take decent notes. The contact will be taking him out next week for photoshoots to be posted on Instagram for the next quarter; the next fashion show they’d like him to attend will be in June, and they’ll be sending him a shortlist of his options for concepts soon. There’s quite a bit of contention over his travel plans- he already has a few events planned for June, so it’s going to be tight, but if he can get the outfit ahead of time, he can dress in the car on the way to the show, worst comes to worst.

It crawls the whole time. It's absolute torture.

But eventually it ends, and Chan makes his bows and exits, still with his professional facade in place, if a bit more hurried than usual. He gets into the elevator down to the studio floors along with a few chatting team members, feeling like he's starting to vibrate out of his skin. It's quite possibly a full age before he can step out, and once the doors close behind him, he makes for the stairwell at a flat run. On the way, he dials Jihoon’s number.

Thank everything that’s holy, he picks up the first time Chan calls. He doesn’t mince words, either. “Iseul is safe, Chan, no one’s in danger. I’m downstairs with the car if you still want to go home, but Seungmin’s with her.”

“I- would- like- to- go- home- yes.” Each of Chan's words are punctuated by the echoing thump of him taking the stairs two at a time. “What- happened with- Ha-Joon?”

Jihoon sighs. “The paramedics checked him over and didn’t take him to the hospital, but apparently he had a seizure. I drove him home and talked to his son to make sure he would be okay. Apparently there’s a family history, but he hasn’t had one before, so he’ll probably need to be on medical leave until it’s under control. That’s fine, we have the backup agency, and I’ll give them a call so you don’t need to worry about arranging anything, you can just rest up. Ah, there you are.” He hangs up the phone as Chan slides into the back seat and buckles up at light speed.

“Iseul-”

“Iseul is fine. She was asleep when Seungmin arrived. She might still be asleep when you get home. She won’t need you to be around her smelling like you’re rescuing her from a house fire.”

“What if there was a house fire? What if she stopped breathing? What if- what if- what if-”

“Chan, stop. Nothing happened, we just had a scare, and you can’t prevent every freak accident in the world.”

Chan sits back, sulking. The car ride is tense and silent for a few minutes until Jihoon says, “If it would make you feel better, the backup agency does allow customers to use cameras in their home, though only in common areas. Would you want to look into that?”

“Yes,” Chan grumbles. “I guess. It’s the pack’s house, too, they get a say.” He is fully aware he’s blinded by fear right now- he doesn’t know if it’s a rational thought, but the pack will set him straight if not.

In the meantime, the minute they pull in, Chan is out of the car like a bullet, rushing in and almost snarling at Seungmin who’s feeding Iseul in the kitchen. Seungmin levels him with an unimpressed look, and he deflates some, settles for hovering close instead of snatching her up like he wants to. Seungmin keeps on feeding her calmly, then burps her, hands gentle like Chan’s shaking ones couldn’t be right now. His fucking wrist has been twinging again- he needs to be more consistent about his exercises to ward off pinched nerves and carpal tunnel.

Pain doesn’t matter right now, though. The minute Seungmin leads him out of the kitchen, he follows like a nervous dog, sits in the chair in the living room that Seungmin points at, and only then does he lay her carefully on Chan’s chest.

It feels like something unlocks under his ribs the minute they’re skin-to-skin. His mind clears, the tightness he’d been carrying in his shoulders and jaw releases. Chan himself doesn't really know why he's reacting this way. His parental instincts are going crazy, and he doesn't exactly have much practice reining it in. Especially not when his daughter could have been kidnapped, or crawled into a street, or- or- or-

He buries his face in Iseul's wispy hair and takes deep breaths of her soft baby scent, powdery with a hint of both her fathers under the surface. He doesn't want to be unreasonable. This can't be a problem the way he wants it to be.

They'll get those cameras installed, though, if the pack agrees. This can't happen again. His daughter- their daughter- is too precious.

~

The straw that breaks the camel's back, though, is no one's fault. It's a true accident. It's award show season; stunts are the bread and butter of any big-name group like Stray Kids. Chan gave birth ten months ago, and since then he's built his muscle and agility back up until he can land flips just like before with a little practice. Their choreography team kept a careful eye while he was practicing his climb up a metal frame to perch on top and howl his verse, and they all agreed he was perfectly fit to perform it.

Thank everything that's holy that the accident happens the day before the Golden Disk Awards, and not live on camera, or millions of viewers would see Chan's foot plant on a rung of the ladder that shears off under his weight and momentum. The awful screech of twisting metal covers Chan's startled yell as he flails for balance. His other foot slides right across the jagged end of the broken rung, sharp enough to slice right through his costume boot and leave a hot streak of pain.

Okay okay okay, Chan just has to haul himself up, he's strong enough, he can do that-

The rung he has a death grip on gives way, too. The last thing Chan thinks before he falls is Ah, shit. I just came off hiatus.

He hits the ground on his back, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, even if he did have the presence of mind to protect his neck and head with his arms. He can't catch his breath for long enough to wheeze out any reassurances, which is probably a bad sign, but it also means he has something to focus on when the world around him seems to have erupted into chaos. He's trying so hard to bully his lungs into cooperating. The person standing over him, anxiously telling him to breathe, hyung, breathe is not really helping. Fuck, he can't breathe, he needs to breathe, the world is spinning way too fast, going dark around the edges-

Something uncomfortable presses against his mouth and nose, and it's slow, so slow, but the world swims into focus. A calmer voice than before is counting to seven over and over again, and he latches onto it, trying to regulate his traitorous lungs.

By the time his breathing is mostly under control, he can make out the masked face of a paramedic leaning over him with a tank of oxygen and a grim expression. When Chan struggles to sit up, they press a hand to his chest to keep him lying down. "Bang Chan-ssi, please don't try to move until I can make sure it's safe. I'm going to examine you, just tell me if anything hurts and answer my questions, please."

Chan complies, dazed but aware he needs to listen to them. He knows his name, he knows the year, he knows what he was just doing, he knows the name of the Prime Minister. No, he didn't lose any time when he fell. His back hurts, and his arms, and his foot. The paramedic feels him over gently and declares that mostly he's just going to have some nasty bruising, and though it does take them some work to get his boot off, the wound there won't need stitches.

Lucky, they tell him as he gingerly sits up and they clean and bandage his foot. He was very lucky. It could have been a lot worse. They still recommend a couple days' rest to recover from the worst of the soreness, which Jihoon and the pack take on with solemnity.

"But- the GDAs-" Chan stutters. "I can- I can sit and perform-"

"You can stay home", Jihoon insists. "With your-"

He cuts his eyes to the paramedic, but he inclines his head meaningfully and says, "If you've bruised or cracked a rib, you won't want to sit in a metal chair for four hours, much less perform from one. You can call when your pack wins something, but that's it."

Chan hardly hears him. Iseul. Iseul. Iseul is at home. Chan fell, and it was an accident, and he's fine, but- what if it hadn't been fine? What would have happened to his baby daughter?

Chan's breathing picks up again, getting more ragged. Minho's still in the service. Sometimes the government makes exceptions for single parents, but that's rare, and usually in cases of last resort. The pack have their own schedules, even if they love her to pieces. Chan's parents are an ocean away. Minho's are closer, but Minho's father is ill and his mother is too old to care for her husband and a baby.

If Chan had been badly hurt, or worse, he would have left his daughter alone. He would have had no control.

The panic attack is painful, because even though he's pretty sure his ribs aren't broken, they probably are bruised. Thank god for the oxygen mask.

~

The minute Chan gets home and the pack stops fussing long enough to give him some privacy with Iseul on his chest, he calls Minho. He doesn't even know if Minho will pick up- it's still the middle of the day, really, but Chan just wants to hear his voice. Wants to reassure himself that his little girl's other father is still there, not evaporated into mist.

The phone rings. Once, twice, three times. Four, five, six. The voicemail kicks in. Chan hangs up and calls again. One ring, two-

"Lee Minho," and if that isn't the most beautiful thing Chan has ever heard, even if it is short with irritation. "It's not really a great time-"

"Minho-yah," Chan breathes. "Please, Minho-yah, I- please. I need to hear your voice. I-"

His voice breaks. Iseul, squeezed too tight in his arms, lets out a quiet complaint.

"Chan-ah," Minho says, softer. Chan could cry, but he doesn't want to. "My Channie, what is it? What happened?"

"I fell," Chan says. "It was- I was lucky. Mostly just bruised. It could have been so much worse. It could have been- fuck, it could have been, I c-c-c, I could have-" The adrenaline crash is really hitting now. He's shaking, teeth chattering, all his hurts throbbing to life. He almost wants to put Iseul down for fear of shaking her too hard, but he's scared of just dropping her instead, so he clings tightly.

"Hyung," Minho says, sounding a little helpless. "What do you need? What can I do? You're okay, right? Did you go to the hospital? If I find out you didn't, Bang Chan, I swear-"

"The medic cleared me to just come home, Minho. The pack are with me, I'm not alone, I only wanted to hear from you. You can hang up, it's okay, I'm okay-"

"You're not okay," Minho snaps. "Are you listening to yourself? What's wrong with you?"

"I'm scared, Minho!" Chan snaps back before he can regret it. "I could have died before I got to raise my little girl with you and our pack. I could have left her alone. I might never have gotten to- to be with you. I have so much left to do, but you two are the most important people in my life, do you understand? If I'd left you behind- god, Minho-"

Chan's cut off this time by a deep, furious growl, the kind of sound Chan has hear him make only once before, back when their airport crowd control was worse and Jisung had been pushed down and stepped on. "Give me five damn minutes, my mate almost died."

Chan is struck dumb for a moment until his brain processes that Minho is talking to someone on his side of the line, and then-

"Your mate?" he says quietly.

"...You can't seriously have missed how I feel about you, Chan-ah."

Chan lets his silence speak for him. He's a bit embarrassed, but still mostly in shock. Minho sees him as his mate?

"Aish, this hyung," Minho tuts. "You drive me crazy. You and-"

Chan regains the ability to speak. "You've been driving me crazy for years. When-?"

"...I'm not sure. I wasn't honest with myself about my own feelings for a long time, I think."

"And now?"

"...You're on my mind every waking moment. It scares me."

Chan lets out a wet laugh. "Tell me about it. I'm scared, too. But loving you is worth it."

"My mate," Minho croons, saccharine sarcasm hiding his sincerity. "My omega, my baby."

"When can you come home?" Chan asks. Suddenly he's filled with the visceral need to see Minho face to face, feel his skin, taste his scent.

“Not for a couple weeks,” Minho says reluctantly. “At least, not if the schedule stays the same. I’ll talk to the chief, see what I can do.”

Chan is proud, but not that proud. “Please. You can tell them your mate was in an accident. I’m suffering, Minho, you can’t leave me alone to be smothered.”

They both know Minho will do plenty of his own smothering. Chan doesn’t particularly care. He does feel calmer now, though, disbelieving happiness even starting to bubble up, dulling all his hurts. He can ignore the pulsing headache. Minho wants to be his mate.

What a miracle indeed.

~

The thing is, with the two of them-

Neither of them know how to do anything by halves. If Minho and Chan have decided that they’re going to be mates, then they aren’t going to take things slow. Chan has been viscerally aware of them taking it slow for the past eight years. It’s about fucking time they move fast on something.

So it is that when Minho manages to get an afternoon off to come home a week after Chan’s fall, he finds Chan dozing on the couch and goes right for him. Before Chan even knows what’s happening, he’s surrounded by an anxious alpha, scent almost charred but sweetening quickly as he takes in the fact that Chan isn’t actually dying. “Chan-ah,” he frets. “You’re alright? Where’s-”

“‘M here, Minho,” Chan giggles. “What the hell? You didn’t say you were going to be home. Iseul’s at the pediatrician- just a routine appointment. The pack made me stay home and rest.”

Minho huffs, half irritation and half fondness. “As you should be. Didn’t you give yourself a concussion only a week ago?”

“I didn’t have a concussion,” Chan sighs. “Mostly bruises. I’m not an invalid.”

“Still,” Minho clucks. “You’re terrible at listening to our pack’s concerns when they come to your health, you always have been. You need to start setting a better example for our daughter or she’ll grow up just like you.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Chan wrinkles his nose up at Minho. “I was resting. Until you barged in here and started your whole big protector alpha routine.”

“This isn’t restful.” Minho frowns around at the dimmed overhead light, the TV playing music quietly, the blanket slipping down Chan’s shoulder. “You should be in bed. Anyone could come right in and disturb you.”

Chan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Minho-yah. If you want to take me to bed, you can just say so.”

He doesn’t really expect Minho to take him up on it, so he lets out an undignified yelp when he’s swept up into a hold, Minho’s arms wrapping around his lower back and curling under his thighs as he proceeds towards the stairs. “Minho!”

“Bed,” Minho says firmly. “You don’t have to sleep, but don’t you have a nest? Isn’t that where you should be staying?”

Chan, who hasn’t exactly prioritized putting together a nesting space since the last time it was taken apart to wash, stays quiet. Minho will do what he likes regardless, and it is nice to just lean into the scent of his favorite alpha for a little while.

Minho does indeed grumble when he sees Chan’s bed neatly made, not a scented item to be seen. Chan doesn't see any wisdom in telling him that the past time he was here, Chan had swiped a sleep shirt of his from his laundry and keeps it tucked under his pillow. No, far better to be settled gently on his side in bed before Minho starts to bustle around, setting things up just so as he knows Chan likes it- dim, warm lighting, more scented things tucked unobtrusively where he can reach for them if he wants, thin blankets so he can layer for warmth if he needs it, a packet of senbei and a cup of water on the bedside table.

As amusing and as lovely as it is to have his alpha fussing over him, though, it's exhausting watching him. "Minho," he says. "Come sit with me."

Minho spins around from where he'd been staring at Chan’s desk with his hands on his hips. "Huh?"

"Come sit." Chan scooches over and pats the blankets. "Please."

Minho scrambles over so quickly that Chan has to laugh at him. And then sigh out a moan, when he nuzzles into Chan’s throat, their scents twining together in a way that's definitely going to stick to the sheets. Not that Chan’s complaining.

Instead, Chan turns his head and presses his lips to Minho's hair. "I'm sorry I worried you, Minho-yah, but I really am fine."

"Hmph," Minho grumbles. He wraps his arms around Chan’s body loosely, this time, not tugging, just holding. "...You smell alright. I'm still sorry I wasn't there."

"No one’s fault. It was what it was. And you made time for me."

"Of course I did," Minho snorts. "My mate was in an accident. Even the military understands that."

"Your mate," Chan repeats, with no small amount of wonder.

"My mate." Minho nods sharply. "Bite or no bite, you're mine."

"Oh? Been thinking about biting me?" Chan wiggles his eyebrows. "My shoulder? My neck? Somewhere else?"

Minho flushes bright red and looks away. Chan nuzzles back up to him, almost toppling them over on the bed. "Minhoooooo," he sings. "C'mon, you already did the hard part, you confessed, don't you want to get your reward?"

"...Of course I want to. But you're already hurt."

Chan wrinkles his nose. "Seriously, it's not that bad, it wasn't even that bad in the first place, and it's not like a mating bite is going to send me into shock. If you want to give me your bite, go ahead and do it already."

Minho, if possible, goes redder. "Bang Chan."

"Alpha~" Chan croons. "Won't you give me your bite, alpha? Or were you just teasing this poor omega-"

Minho pounces in an instant, pinning Chan on his side, looming and growling like he's about to burst into the form of a wolf, like in one of the old fables. Chan's head automatically tilts, exposing his throat, satisfaction thrumming through him as his alpha gives him what they both want. "My omega," Minho huffs. His hips rut down, and Chan sighs, parting his legs. It's an awkward angle, and they both know Chan could escape with no effort, but he doesn't want to escape. He wants Minho to press into him, wants-

"My alpha," he murmurs. "That's right, I'm here, I'm yours. You're mine. My mate, Minho-yah."

"Yours," Minho grunts in return. Some of the cloud of instinct has cleared, but he still looks like he'd devour Chan if given leave to. "Can I- Can I really-"

Chan leans up to drop an affectionate kiss on Minho's jaw before settling properly on his back, knees splayed out and bent, ignoring any twinges of pain from the lingering bruises. He's strong enough for this. He wants this.

"I'm serious, Minho. Alpha. However you want."

"Here," Minho says immediately, sliding his hands down Chan’s body to his hips. "No one will see it. This'll just be for me."

"Given this some thought, have you?" Chan raises an eyebrow, but obligingly lifts his ass so Minho can help him get his shorts off.

"It's all I think about," Minho growls. He makes quick work of Chan's shorts, then his boxers. He doesn't get straight to it, though- instead, he plants a kiss on Chan's belly button where he's rucked up his shirt, then another right below, trailing down, down, until he's mouthing at the outer curve of Chan's hip where the stubborn layer of fat still clings after Chan's pregnancy. Chan, for his part, lets out a sigh when he feels Minho start to lick back inward, towards the place that his cock and cunt are taking definite interest. He hasn't had sex, has barely masturbated since he gave birth- at first there were the stitches, and then there was a newborn to take care of, and then his life crashed down on him like a ton of bricks.

"Here," Minho murmurs. He's nipping at the skin right over the left wing of Chan's pelvis, where it dips low and will be hidden in shadow even in low-riding pants. "I'll mark you here."

Chan's breath hitches. "Fuck, Minho-"

Sharp teeth sink in, and Chan's vision goes white. He knew it was going to be intense- new mating bonds are typically overwhelming while the partners get used to their consciousnesses brushing up against each other- but he didn't expect- he didn't think-

The force of Minho's love for Chan slams into him like a tsunami. He goes under in an instant, loses his sense of which way is up, subsumed in Minho's fierce, protective embrace. He gasps for air as the rest of Minho's emotions wash over him- lust at the sight of Chan spread out and ready for him, concern at the way Chan's eyes have rolled almost entirely back, the hidden fear that either of them will regret the bonding. Minho can't hide anymore, though, not from his mate. Neither of them will be able to conceal their true feelings; only time will allow them to acclimate, to shield off while they're busy or apart.

For now, Chan blinks back to reality with a massive effort. He needs to reassure- his mate. His mate. "Minho-yah," he manages. "Minho-yah, baby-"

"Chan-ah." Minho's voice is soft and sweet as it so rarely is, only emerging when it's just the two of them. The ferocious love mellows, syrupy, smooth like caramel. "You with me?"

"You love me." Chan blinks down at Minho, unsure if his shell-shocked wonder is reading on his face. Probably, by the way Minho immediately goes shy, turning his face away, down into Chan's hip to leave a kiss right next to the new mark.

"I do, hyung." Minho looks back up when he's regained his composure, eyebrows raised. "D' you want to get eaten out or to give me your mark first?"

Chan smacks Minho's ear for that. "Of course I want to mark you!" He watches Minho's grin crawl back across his face as he quickly shucks his own pants, then pushes himself up and knee-walks so he's straddling Chan's shoulders. Thighs, fuck yeah. Chan's eyes are fixed on the toned muscle, a shade paler than usual- he must not be getting much sun. That's okay. Chan props himself on his elbows, gives the lovely head of Minho's cock a kiss before he turns his attention to the delicate, sensitive skin that's his canvas.

He licks first at the left, then the right, re-introducing himself to how Minho twitches and huffs, hands clenching into fists at his sides as he does. Chan's had the wonderful opportunity to worship Minho's thighs only a couple times before; he doesn't want to drag it out too much this time, he is intent on his goal, but he is only a man. He laves his tongue over the vastus medalis, the sartorius, the adductor group. Lust and love are warring now in Minho's head, his breathing heavier, his cock starting to harden and flush. Chan hides his grin by pressing a brief kiss to Minho's balls as he swaps sides again. He wants their marks on the same side, so when he touches his hip and thinks of his mate, Minho will do the same.

Chan sinks his teeth in and pulls them out quick and clean in time with Minho's garbled shout. Knowing how it felt for him, he's ready for it when Minho's legs give out- all his weight would land on Chan's chest if he didn't catch himself at the last moment. His thighs flex, blood welling up and dripping onto Chan's chest, but he couldn't care less right now. He's focused on the bond.

"Chan-ah," Minho pants. His voice is still choked, but Chan can feel Minho's own wonder at the depth of love Chan has for him.

"I know," Chan murmurs. "I know." Punch-drunk on the endorphins, he giggles and says, "You know, Lee Know."

He deserves the smack on the chest he gets for that one. He can't stop laughing, though, exhilerated beyond reason. They're mated. They're mated, they're going to have amazing newly-mated sex, and Minho will never be able to hide from Chan again.

~

Afterward, Chan lets Minho tape gauze over his hip, and Minho lets Chan bandage his thigh. In truth he wouldn't have cared if Minho had bitten him in the traditional place over his scent gland or even higher on his neck, but he understands the practicality, the reality of their situation. He's just- happy. Feeling Minho's happiness creates a feedback loop, the two of them barely able to keep their hands off each other as they clean up and make themselves decent. Now Chan knows why most newly mated pairs take a honeymoon.

They don't have that luxury. They have another thirty-six hours at most. They'll just have to make it count.

Chan walks out of the bathroom straight into Felix, though, which is probably an indicator of how things are going to go. Felix says, distracted, “Hey, Chris, do you think you could-”

He stops. Squints. Chan does his best to look entirely innocent, not flushed and rumpled, and it might have worked had Minho not walked right into him a second later, also not quite flushed and rumpled. Both of them are wearing clean pants, at least, so the mating bites can’t be seen, but Felix still sees something off.

"Do what?” Chan rallies admirably, but it’s not enough to stop the gremlin smile from spreading across Felix’s face.

“Oh, nothing,” he says. “Nothing at all. Just passing by. Carry on. As you were.”

Chan doesn’t have to share a look with Minho for their twinned fond exasperation to be felt. Magical. Still, Felix leaving them to their business is reprieve enough for now. Chan tugs them with purpose to Minho’s room, because he doesn’t feel like changing his own sheets right now. Instead, he grabs the duffel Minho had brought home and starts digging through it. Yeah, it’s mostly dirty laundry, but it’s not like it’s that gross. Chan snags a new undershirt, soaked in Minho’s scent, and says, “This is mine now. You can have it back next time you come home.”

Minho shrugs. “Fine, fine. If you’re so eager to do my laundry, though…”

“Ah, didn’t you hear I’m injured?” Chan pretends to swoon against the wall, grins when Minho grabs to catch him even though he can tell Chan is just being dramatic. “You’d make me do laundry in my delicate condition? So cruel to your mate!”

“Fine, fine.” Minho sniffs. “If you come downstairs with me to wait for Iseul, I can sit on you, anyway.”

“You can,” Chan agrees, magnanimous. “And I can beat your ass at Puyo Puyo like always.”

“You couldn’t,” Minho grumbles, but he follows when Chan goes to drop the shirt off in his room, then heads back downstairs to the little couch cocoon he’d made up earlier. It’s not like it was uncomfortable before, but with Minho there to provide another source of warmth- and to maintain the closeness of the physical and mental connection- it’s pure bliss.

~

They can’t hide forever, though. Not from their pack. They make it until Minho goes back to the base, and then:

Chan is on the phone with Minho the night after he’s resettled in the barracks; Minho is off duty until midnight when he has a guard rotation, and Chan is in the JYP studios with Jisung. They’re taking a break, so Chan has every right to call Minho. It’s… settling, after a day of being caught off guard by feelings that aren’t his, to be able to sort out the whys, and so what if Chan also just likes to talk to Minho. They’ve been in the same group for seven years, that wouldn’t be possible if they didn’t like each other. This is definitely normal, never mind that someone caught him on the phone with Minho the night before, and someone will probably catch them tomorrow, too.

"Chan-hyung? Earth to Chan-hyung? Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“Huh?” Chan looks up at Jisung’s pouty whine, blinking even as Minho keeps talking, complaining about that dumb fuck who’s never held a mop before in his life, bastard. He had nearly snapped at Jeongin earlier over nothing, but that makes sense. Minho hates being paired up with arrogant assholes who think cleaning is beneath them when he gets assigned to do scutwork.

“Do you want to go down to the cafeteria for dinner or order in?” Jisung says, slowly.

Minho, in Chan’s other ear, says, “Is that Jisungie? Tell him you’re busy. Mate privileges.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s order in. Minho’s right, mate privileges.” Chan says, distracted. “Minho-yah, I know you’ll get in trouble if you beat him up, but do you want Changbin to visit? We can probably manage to make it look like an accident."

"As if I need him to make it look like an accident,” Minho huffs.

”MATE PRIVILEGES?” Jisung bellows. “What do you mean, mate privileges?”

“I mean I want Japanese, and the cafeteria can’t cook oden right to save their lives. Please, Jisungie? With pork.” Chan bats his eyelashes, but it’s only when Minho’s amused resignation starts to filter through the bond that he realizes.

Ah, shit. They’re going to get teased forever. He knew it.

At least the studios are soundproofed.

“Both of you should know better than to keep secrets at this point,” is how Jisung finishes his lecture. “You’ve known us too long, you know we keep your secrets without even having to be asked. Don’t be so fucking stupid. Oh, and congratulations. Next time Minho has a visit, we can make sure someone takes Iseul and the rest of us clear out so you can have gross lovey-dovey mated sex.”

“Yes, Jisung.” Chan sighs, but he’s smiling. His Jisungie, so firey, so devoted to his pack. Such a weirdo. Neither he nor Minho would have it any other way. “I’ll text the pack that we have something to talk about right now. And I’ll pay for dinner.”

“No, I’m paying for dinner.” Jisung sticks out his tongue. "As a mating gift. Don't tell me I never did anything for you."

"You do plenty for me, fourth-gen ace." Chan reaches out to ruffle Jisung’s hair. "But fine, fine. I won't say no. Minho, you want some?"

"God yes," Minho groans. "Be glad you don't have to endure army food."

"Next time we see you, then, Jisung will treat." Chan winks. "A promise is a promise."

~

For Iseul's one-year celebration, they wanted to keep things small. Family only. It's futile, though- their family is pretty big, especially since there are eight members of their pack with parents who want to come celebrate the only grandchild they're likely to get for a while yet.

Not all of them manage it, for better or for worse. Chan's parents are still working, though Felix's fly up just for a couple days. Changbin's parents come, as do Seungmin's, Jeongin's, and Hyunjin's, plus Minho’s father, Jisung's sister, and because Chan cracked embarrassingly easily under pressure, Jinyoung, Younghyun, and Lily.

Chan is very glad for the size of the pack house when he comes downstairs with Minho, carrying Iseul in her lovely jeogori, chima, and tarae beoseon. She looks so pretty, and even if she's not incredibly happy at all the layers, she's tolerating them for now, so Chan can instead focus on the heart-swelling pride both he and Minho feel as they present her to the gathered family. The living room feels packed full around the dolsang they've prepared, but the crowd parts respectfully for the guest of honor.

Chan sets her down in front of the array of ritual items, kisses the top of her head, and steps back. Minho steps forward, then, to put a hand on Iseul's back, rubbing gently in his way that always seems to soothe her. "Don't all these toys look fun, baby? What do you think?"

There's a quiet ripple of laughter; Chan grins at Minho's warm curl of satisfaction. "Ten thousand won on the thread!" Jeongin's mother calls.

"Fifteen thousand on the paint!"

"Twenty on the rice!"

Iseul is in her own world, though. Chan elbows Minho in the side and shuffles forward to get a better view over the tall stacks of fruit, rolls his eyes at his mate's ensuing dramatics. "Pay attention!" he hisses, because Iseul is starting to show interest in the table and its treasures instead of the people.

What Iseul reaches for first is Minho's lovingly made songpyeon. His mother's recipe, but he made it with his own hands, dyeing dough with chija flower and mugwort powder to make delicate flower decorations. Iseul picks one up off the pile, mouthing at it, looking startled when the crowd erupts in cheers and laughter. Minho's face is stone, but Chan can feel his shocked, delighted overwhelm, so he's the one who leans forward to remove the choking hazard from their baby's mouth.

"Lesson learned," he says briskly. "Keep the food out of reach until it's time."

"Ah, don't be hard on her, Chan-ah, it's good luck! She'll grow up without wanting for anything. And she'll always appreciate her father's cooking." Seungmin's mother bustles forward to help Chan move the plates away, still; Iseul leans after the songpyeon for a minute until she's distracted by Lily picking up the drumsticks on the table to wiggle in front of her.

"Ah, baby, don't want to take after your family? Not even a little?"

The laughter around the table is louder this time when Iseul distinctly turns up her nose. Instead, she picks up the thread in one hand and digs her hand into the bowl of rice with the other.

Chan tilts his head at Minho in the babble and quirks an eyebrow, bringing his concern and care to the forefront of his emotions. Minho's side of the bond bubbles with shyness, so Chan just smiles. He wraps an arm around Minho's shoulders and tugs him in roughly. "Our daughter's an overachiever, Minho. Not sure what we expected."

"With you as her father? I don't think she could be anything else," Minho eventually manages. Chan's grin widens.

"I'll do my best. She deserves better than us parents giving her our complexes."

Minho rolls his eyes. "You're the kind of overachiever who'll give her brand new complexes, Bang Chan."

"Yah," Chan says lightly. "She'll be fine. We have years to get therapy before we can really start doing too much damage." He smacks Minho's ass, then grabs his hand to tug him forward so they can do crowd control.

Minho sighs, deeply put-upon, but he does bring up their joined hands to kiss Chan's fingers as he goes.

~

Minho takes Iseul upstairs to change her back into day clothes and put her down for a nap once everyone- including her- has had their fill of playing with the ritual items. She did eventually pick up one of the drumsticks to gnaw on, though Hyunjin ran to fetch her one of her chilled teething rings before she could give herself a splinter. Most of her baby teeth are erupted at this point, but they're still working on the idea that there are better things to bite than toys and books and, well, people.

Chan's fondness must be all over his face still when he turns around from watching Minho carry their tired, fussy baby, because Younghyun gives him a mock-disgusted look. "Really, Chan-ah?"

"Really what?" Chan blinks innocently. "Did you want some songpyeon? I get not wanting food that's been touched by baby hands, but I promise we have another plate in the kitchen."

Younghyun cuts his eyes between Chan and the hubbub of people in the room, lowering his voice. "You and him. Are you still sure he doesn't want to mate you?"

Chan takes a sip of his drink to hide his grin. "Oh, I'm sure."

Younghyun's eyes have barely narrowed by the time Chan leans in to murmur, "He's already mated me."

He so rarely sees his hyung so poleaxed these days, so he takes a second to savor the moment before he turns and struts away. Younghyun's belated "Bang Chan!" makes him cackle before he engages one of Hyunjin's fathers in a spirited conversation about the price of fruit this season.

It really is the little things. Younghyun can keep a secret- and in Chan's opinion, he deserves the payback after nagging about it.

~

Before Hyunjin leaves for his military service, he- and the rest of the pack- have another cycle. Iseul is old enough that Chan's body decides it's ready, too, which is really inconvenient with his usual partner away on a military base.

So Chan decides he's going to suppress this one. He doesn't want to torment Minho with the feelings, he himself doesn't want to deal with the feelings, and there's plenty of feelings going around, anyway, with Hyunjin's upcoming departure. It hasn't been announced publically yet, but everyone is moping, especially Hyunjin himself, who keeps fretting about Felix being lonely without him to share their room, and who's going to get custody of his vast collection of art supplies, and how he still hasn't been told the exact length his service will be, so how can he plan for his coming-home party? To say nothing of the hovering he does around Iseul whenever he's home. Chan is getting very tired of being micromanaged about how to play with his daughter.

"Hyunjin-ah," Chan says sharply, when he's had enough. "You know I love you very much, but please go find your cycle partner and smother them, not us." He pauses, narrows his eyes. Hyunjin is looking very shifty. "You have your cycle partner, don't you?"

"Well," Hyunjin mumbles. "I mean..."

"Hyunjin."

"I'm going to leave them, hyung," Hyunjin says, looking miserable. "I don't... I want all of them. But I'm going to leave them."

"And you'll come back," Chan says. "You know that, they know that. It's not forever. They're not going to wake up and forget you."

"It's still not fucking fair. Why should I have to leave my pack? Why can't they just-" Hyunjin hisses through his teeth like an feral cat. "They're mine to take care of. I want to show them I can take care of them, I'm just a fucking coward. Why can't I just tell them?"

Chan has to frown and sit up, now, pulling Iseul against his chest so she sits safely and plays with her toy instead of crawling away. Somewhere in that baffling stream of words was the real issue, but he can't quite tease it out. "What are you afraid of? That they won't accept you?"

"Why would they?" Hyunjin looks away. "I'm just greedy."

"Hyunjin-ah," Chan says again, softer. "Of course you're not greedy. Haven't you spoken to them about this before?"

"Well, yeah. But I'm leaving, so I thought..." Hyunjin blows out a frustrated breath. "You're happy, aren't you? With Minho-hyung? With your bond?"

"I am. Of course I am."

"Well. I thought. I'd really like... I'd like that too."

"Oh."

"I'd like to know... how they're doing. Without having to wait to text, and wait for a response, and miss them all the time because we're all working the worst schedules in the world and exhausted. Isn't it easier? To just be able to feel it?" Hyunjin waits for Chan's nod before going on. "I know you two can have whole conversations without speaking, and maybe we're not up to that level, but I want to feel that they're with me. It seems like it would be comforting, when we have to be so far apart."

Chan pauses to take that all in. Iseul starts chewing on the toy, restless, so he grabs her pacifier from his pocket and eases it into her mouth, but he could do that in his sleep.

"I'm not going to tell you it's fair. I'm not going to say it's been easy," is how he starts. "It's never going to be easy. Being together, or apart, both are terrifying. We chose to live the lives we lead, we chose the harder path. Maybe we didn't choose to fall in love, but we chose each other, either way. What I'm saying is- a bond won't fix it, if you're afraid they'll stop choosing you. It means you'll wake up from sleep you needed because they need you. It means you'll feel it when they're lonely or afraid or in pain. It means you won't be able to hide anything from each other, not entirely. You shouldn't rush into it because you're running out of time. You can do it because you know you all want it, and you should do it soon if you're going to, but you have to be sure first. Minho and I... we probably waited longer than we should have. That doesn't mean you have to do it sooner than it's right."

"Nothing's ever easy," Hyunjin sighs, but he's more wistful than anything now. "But you're right. We have to choose each other."

"Hwaiting," Chan says, raising Iseul's chubby fists in the air to make him laugh. "Talk to them. Don't just fall into bed."

"Jeongin kicked us all out while he washes the nest stuff," Hyunjin grumbles. "How am I supposed to talk to them when we don't have any privacy."

"Use Changbin's," Chan sighs. "He told me he doesn't mind. Go on, get out of here."

Hyunjin groans theatrically as he gets up, but he goes.

Not without a quiet "Thanks, hyung," and a kiss to the top of Chan's head, though. Aish, this kid. Chan has to sigh after him before returning his attention to where Iseul is squirming out of his arms, trying to get to the toy she's just thrown across the room for no discernable reason.

He lets Minho feel his mixed annoyance and affection as he gets up to help her fetch it, and can't help but smile at the feeling he gets back.

~

The house feels empty without Hyunjin and Jisung and Seungmin and Jeongin in it. All four of them go to start their service in a quick rush, to get it over with faster, but that doesn't mean it's not lonely. The house is meant to hold a full pack.

At least Minho and Changbin will be home for good soon. A couple more months. Soon.

And Felix is still home, of course. Not that he's not busy, just like Chan is, but they have each other, and they have the web of support they've built up around themselves. Chan can watch Iseul sleep on the cameras in the nursery when his mind feels like it's spinning out on slick asphalt. Changbin will be home visiting for a few days next week, so Chan needs to get this guide done for the new batch of trainees before he goes home today. He doesn't have time to waste.

On top of all the work, Chan needs to let the company know that he's mated now, so they can figure out how to... deal with that. Comms will have feelings, and so will Marketing, to say nothing of the layers of company management all the way up to JYP PD-nim. It feels like so long ago, when Chan had faced them alone and told them he didn't have a mate and they could deal with the Korean and Aussie Department of Pack Affairs if they had a problem with that. Well, now he does have a mate, and he's not looking forward to the dozen corporate strategy meetings that are surely ahead, but that's idol life.

Minho is a lucky bastard, getting to avoid it all. He'll come home, have some papers to sign and a briefing packet to read about whatever PR decides they'll be allowed to talk about in public, and that will be that.

Chan decides to break the news more gently than he did with that of Iseul. First, Jihoon. Chan sweet-talks him into coming out for dinner and a few beers one night along with Felix's manager Minjun, in a private backroom of the restaurant. They talk about work for a while, Felix asks after Jihoon's pack, and then Chan says, casually, "You know, hyung, now that I've mated Minho myself, maybe you could take some of my advice if you want Minseo to acknowledge you."

Jihoon scoffs for a second, automatically, then stares. Chan meets his gaze, a sheepish smile tugging up one side of his mouth.

"You've mated Minho," Jihoon says flatly. Chan nods, leaning back in his chair.

"Yup. Quietly. Nowhere anyone will see unless broadcasting standards get much looser. But we're mated now."

"Hmph," Jihoon says. "You kids are going to make me go grey before I'm forty."

"That's the idol industry for you," Minjun says. "If you wanted to avoid grey hairs why the hell did you apply for work at JYP? Much less as an idol manager."

"Easy for you to say," Jihoon sighs. "Yongbok wouldn't tell you in a company meeting that he's having a whole baby and the company can just deal with it."

Minjun's thousand-yard stare speaks for him. "Maybe not, but the things I've handled for his ambassadorships when he's forgotten something halfway across the world..."

They clink their beer bottles and drink. Felix and Chan exchange a look. It lasts about two seconds before the two of them are collapsed against each other with giggles. "You looove us, though," Felix singsongs. "You think we're so coooool."

"You're a bunch of punks too old to be kids anymore," Jihoon huffs. "Aish, you've leveled up at straying, though."

"Sorry," Chan says, grinning. "Still astray, hey, hey," he sings, probably off-key, but he doesn't give a fuck. Tonight is for having fun now that the ice is broken. Tomorrow... PR.

~

On the day that Minho comes home for good, Felix gives Chan the gift of taking Iseul to Changbin's parents' place for the day. Chan is free to spend the morning in his slow manner of nesting, picking an item to lay out, getting in his head about it, arranging and rearranging. This is part of why he never nests, not even during heat. If the other omegas were here, they'd try to help, but it would only make Chan more self-conscious. Alone, he has the space and time he needs to remind himself that he and his mate will need a comfortable, intimate place to have at least one but hopefully a few rounds of passionate reunion sex, and Chan is uniquely quaified to assess what he likes.

But does he know what Minho likes? What if he's forgotten? They got a bunch of new blankets and pillows when they moved into the new house; will Minho even like them? Chan was pregnant and banned from straining himself too much over decor at the time, but he should have insisted on more input, probably.

Nothing for it now. Chan's alarm letting him know it's time to go pick up Minho goes off while he's staring hard at his third nest attempt. He can't tear it apart again- he has to go and just have hope that Minho will have pity on his poor flustered mate.

Meeting Minho at the discharge office, that's easy. There are a million cameras and Chan throws his arms around Minho and Minho mimes biting him for it, baring his alpha fangs precisely in the way PR coached him. Chan hopes Minho can feel the way his innards are all melting with affection like butter in a warm pan. Himself, Chan can feel Minho's happiness like the relief of iced black tea on a swelteringly hot day, heady with brain freeze and a kick of sugar.

The two of them make the perfect picture on a beautiful fall day. Then, of course, as is their luck, the skies open up and they're both soaked in a matter of minutes as they hurriedly toss bags into the back of one of the vans. The crowd is scattering at least, the rain and dropping temperature driving away anyone without an umbrella, but Chan resists being bundled into the car himself until the last of Minho's things are loaded.

"Don't stress out management," Minho chides him as they pull away. "What if you twisted your ankle in the mud?"

"What if you twisted your ankle in the mud?" Chan sticks out his tongue at his mate. "I don't have any public appearances for a while, it's fine."

Minho still bullies Chan into the shower once they get back to the house, though, and then goes to drop his bag... somewhere. Chan, starting to shiver badly, can't argue. Stripping out of his wet clothes and hopping under the hot steamy water makes him sigh with pleasure. He'd worn scent blockers to the public event, of course, but under the water the adhesive peels away easily to let his glands breathe.

He's not exactly surprised when Minho reappears to hop in beside him. Minho makes quick work of his own blockers, though they take some more effort to remove, and soon the whole room smells strongly of them both, woody and salty and sweetly hot.

Chan has been taking his leisurely time getting clean, but now that Minho is here, naked, there are other things to occupy himself with.

"No shower sex," Minho says, even though his cock is starting to look pretty interested in the concept. Chan pouts, running the soapy washcloth down Minho's chest, transfixed by the way his little brown nipples are pebbling under the touch. He can feel Minho's arousal, his amusement at Chan's shenanigans, but his worry, too. Hypocrite. Not like their ankles haven't been through worse than this- especially Minho's, with the injury that sent him to the public service instead of the army.

"But Minho-yah-"

"You're even more likely to twist your ankle in the shower than in mud."

"I can't even suck your dick? Not even a little?"

"No." Minho says through gritted teeth, because Chan is now deliberately fondling his balls with the washcloth. They are going to be squeaky clean. Not that Chan minds some sweat when it comes to balls in his mouth.

"Killjoy," Chan sniffs. He sighs and gets back to actually trying to get the two of them clean, though, because the sooner they're out of the shower, the sooner they can act on whatever fun they decide to have.

Minho's face is hard to read when he sees the understated nest that Chan made for them, laid out on a king-size nesting pad on the floor beside the bed, but the mating bond faithfully transmits the rush of incredible fondness that Minho experiences. Abruptly, he spins to grab Chan around the waist, shocking him into a laugh, and tackles them bodily into the center of the pillows and cushions. Chan tries to roll them over, if only playfully, but Minho takes advantage of his newly built strength and keeps Chan pinned under him.

God, it feels good. Secure. Chan's basest omega instincts are shivering with delight at this strong alpha they've caught, and Minho's alpha pride is flourishing at the beautiful omega below him.

Pure dominance isn't Minho's way, though. Soon enough he flops right down beside Chan's sprawled form, eyes half-lidded. Chan preens- he built a good nest, comfortable for them both. Minho must like the understated dark green of the sheets and the minky fabric coating a couple of the accent cushions. Hell, even Chan could almost close his eyes right now and nap, unconcerned by upcoming meetings today or Iseul needing a change or Changbin texting him about some bullshit he wants to propose for their next album or Marketing wanting to discuss a new product line or...

God, Chan is so tired. He's always tired, of course, that's idol life when most of your group is enlisted and you're taking care of planning and promotion for everyone else. But he kept telling himself he had to keep going until Minho was home, and now Minho is home.

And Minho feels... satisfied? Chan cracks an eye open to peer over at his alpha, and Minho is grinning at Chan like an idiot. The expression drops when he catches Chan looking, but it doesn't stop the feeling underneath.

It doesn't stop Chan dropping off into an exhausted sleep, either. He can totally just nap for a little while, and then they'll get around to fucking properly. He owes Minho that blowjob and more. Just as soon as he's awake...

~

"Chan-ah. Aish, come on, you'll let dinner get cold?"

"'m 'wake." Chan mumbles and blinks a few times slowly, coming back to himself. The house smells delicious, their scents in the warm atmosphere of the nest but also what smells like meat and cheese and gochugaru.

"Are you sure?" Minho sounds like he's laughing at Chan. As is his right, but Chan pulls himself into a crouch and grabs at Minho's legs like a gremlin.

"Mmm, what if I just have you for dinner? You'll stay warm a while." He mimes biting Minho's calves, but lets himself be shaken off and pulled to his feet without too much difficulty.

"You can have me for dinner when I die a natural death at the age of eighty-nine and not sooner. For now, there's a pot of my mother's galbijjim downstairs, and I won't have it going to waste."

"Holy fuck, galbijjim?" Chan's awake now for sure. He still doesn't bother to put on clothes- it's just the two of them until tomorrow- but he does pick up his pace heading downstairs behind Minho. "Did she make it as a surprise? I'm sorry I wasn't awake to say hello to her..."

Minho smirks. "She offered to drop it off for our homecoming party, but she said she wouldn't want to intrude."

"Remind me to put a nice thank-you note on my to-do list," Chan says as he tumbles into the kitchen, immediately fixated on the big clay pot that is indeed sitting on the stove, the steaming rice cooker on the counter beside it, the side dishes already arrayed on the table. "Are these hers too? How long was I even out for?"

"A few hours," Minho says. He feels very self-satisfied. "Long enough to marinate some bean sprouts and tofu."

"Christ," Chan says helplessly. Is this possibly the best day he's had in... months? Minho home, an excellent nap, a gourmet celebratory meal for just the two of them, and mind-blowing sex still on the agenda? "Well, sit down then, you did all this work, I can at least serve."

"You're always serving," Minho says, smirk unabated. "But fine. Just be careful with the pot, that's eomma's and she'll kill you if you break it."

"As if it was Iseul," Chan nods. He does indeed handle the pot with as much care as he can as he lifts the lid and dishes out two bowls of beautiful spicy beef and tender carrots and fresh chestnuts over rice. Eating with Minho, playing footsie under the table, no one else around to tease him for his love-dumb expression... that's heaven.

Well, not no one. Minho teases Chan even as he engages in the footsie and his own love-dumb expression. But that's just one of the many things Chan loves about him.

"Sorry I crashed earlier," Chan says with a sigh when he leans back after his first delicious bowl. "Been a busy few months, I guess. You really didn't have to let me sleep so long."

"We have the rest of our lives to have sex," Minho shrugs. "You needed the sleep, because you always need the sleep."

Well. He's not wrong.

~

Later, Chan rolls over in the nest, almost on top of Minho to avoid the wet spot they’d made. He tangles their legs together, ignoring how Minho half-heartedly shoves at his chest. They’re both sweaty and sticky, but in a satisfying way. Maybe it’s the afterglow talking, but Chan can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else right now, and from what he can feel of Minho, he’s not alone in that.

Well, except perhaps with Iseul. Chan can’t wait to watch Minho figure out her little growing personality. She’s such a curious little kid, even if lately she’s been a little terror as she learns to speak aloud. They still do their baby sign together, of course, but she has so much to say, and it frustrates her that she can’t quite figure out how to communicate certain things, or that her multilingual mishmash of caretakers don’t always understand even when she does express herself.

“We’re in bed together and you’re thinking of Iseul?” Minho runs his fingers up Chan’s sides to make him squirm and giggle.

“How’d you know I was thinking of her?” Chan pouts.

“‘s a specific dumb expression you have. A specific feeling, too.”

“Yah!” Chan smacks Minho’s chest. “As if any parent feels smart with their first baby.”

“She’s not going to be a baby much longer. Soon she’s a toddler, no?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. She’s walking as long as she’s holding onto something, but I hear kids are fast as soon as they figure out doing it on their own. Maybe we should get her one of those toddler leashes…”

“Again, we are in bed, Chan-ah. Worry about Iseul tomorrow. Tonight is for us.”

“Okay, Minho-hyung,” Chan says cutely. He lets out a sigh and does settle down, though, with his head on Minho’s chest. “You wanna fuck again, then?”

“Insatiable,” Minho says, but Chan feels his cock stir with interest. “Ah, if it’s for my omega…”

“My wonderful alpha,” Chan says with a grin. He reaches down and grinds against his hand, sighing with pleasure at the drag. “Hey, you wanna ride me this time? Been a while since we did that.”

“Mmm, sounds good.” Minho shoves himself upright, swings a leg over Chan’s hips. “Help open me up?”

“Of course.”

~

The next day, Chan holes himself up in their studio at home while Minho and Felix catch up after he comes home with Iseul. Chan is unsurprisingly inspired- his lyric notebook gains several pages of scribbles, and though he tries to make some of it suitable for the Stray Kids sound, it's a losing battle.

Maybe they can get away with a ballad-lullaby album. Some soulful trot for the ahjummas and some English to feed their Western audience. Chan makes a note to see if he can get Hong Jisang to consult on the sound. Or maybe he can give some of these to that new band who are close to debut, they might like some variety from the stuff the songwriters camp cooked up for them...

He's totally absorbed in tweaking an opening riff- he wants it to sound classic, not too loud, but bright, and he can't quite decide between electric guitar or something else- when the studio door opens. It takes a hand on his shoulder for him to look up, blinking at Minho where he stands holding Iseul comfortably in one arm.

"It's almost one, hyung. Come on and take a break."

"Ah, I have an alarm..." Sheepishly, Chan saves his work and gets up to grab his phone from its charger. "Has she eaten? Do you need my help with anything?"

"Felix was just showing me how to make her food. It's almost ready, so he said you might like to come help feed her." Minho grins at Iseul, wide and open, and she smiles back. "Is that right, baby? You like yams? You ready to eat them all up?"

"Ooh, yams are her favorite." Chan doesn't go for the door yet, though. Instead, he grabs Minho in a hug, careful to mind Iseul's delicate form, and squeezes as hard as he can. Minho, being Minho, makes a sound like an offended cat, but he doesn't exactly try to squirm out of Chan's hold.

Cutie.

"I'm glad you're here," is all Chan says when he lets go, though he does grab Minho’s free hand to interlace their fingers. Minho snorts, but he grips Chan's hand just as tight, a warm glow of exasperated affection ligting their bond.

Felix is just stacking a child's plate with soft-cooked spears of yam along with a pile of it mashed when they get into the kitchen. "Hey, Chris," he says, "Y' get things done this morning?"

"We'll see," Chan says. "How do you feel about trot?"

Felix rolls his eyes fondly. He hands Chan the plate and says, "I could call you old, but I won't for now. Go on, feed your daughter."

Chan smacks Felix's shoulder for that, but Iseul really is reaching for the plate already, whining, so he relents and helps Minho get her situated in her chair to eat.

"Iseul, come on, baby, open wide," Chan coaxes as he loads up a spoon. "You like yams, don't you? Mmm, yes, you do, so you better eat them all up before Uncle Felix comes over and steals them, don't you think? There you go, that's right..."

Chan chatters on and on and on, because he's learned it's by far the best way to keep Iseul engaged at mealtimes, even if it results in the mess of mashed yams or rice porridge or whatever smeared everywhere from her baby flailing as she tries to respond. Chan pops the spoon in her mouth as she babbles back at him, and thankfully most of it goes in and stays in this time. She even licks her lips a little, and Chan grins at her wide, putting down the spoon so he can sign along as he praises her. "Good job, Iseul! You're really good at helping papa clean, huh?"

"Bawana," she says happily, and Chan can't help but laugh. When he glances over at Minho, he sees the gentle awe on his mate's face.

"She's growing up fast, huh?"

"My daughter," is all Minho says, hushed.

"Our daughter," Chan reminds him. "We're parents together. She hasn't said 'appa' yet, but she'll learn."

Iseul, impatient, grabs at one of the spears and shoves it in her mouth. She doesn't quite get the whole thing, but Chan praises her and wipes her face automatically. Easier to clean her up as they go than deal with the huge mess at the end of mealtime.

"You want to try?" Minho nods mutely, so Chan hands over the spoon and lets him make a valiant attempt at getting food in her mouth.

"There you go, baby. You want to grow up big and strong, hmm? You should eat well then, so you can be even bigger than appa and papa, hmm?"

Both of them ignore the way Felix mutters "Well, that won't be hard."

"'Pa!" Iseul says after she's done swallowing. "Mmm, pa?"

"That's right, baby," Minho says. "Both appa and papa are here to serve you. Ready for more?"