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It was lucky that Chan had the foresight to get an apartment. Once it was clear Felix’s trips to Paris would be more frequent, he’d put in a request with the company. He cited all the usual reasons: security, pack safety, cost saving. The company didn’t kick up too much of a fuss and were discreet about the process, but Chan knew it had more to do with the profit cut they were getting from Felix’s brand deals than any real interest into the ‘why’ of it all. So it goes.
The details are besides the point because Chan owns the apartment now. Bought it in full when Felix renewed his contract with LV and the pack bond was formalized. The company had their fingers in a lot of their pack business but Chan kept them out where he could. And with his name on the deed, he had no problem turning his managers away at the door even after they insisted on coming in to check on Felix at the ass crack of dawn.
“He’s not taking visitors,” Chan repeats for the last time. While there are many people he adores on his management team, Dongseok, the new guy they sent along on the trip, is not winning any favors with his pushy attitude.
“Bang Chan-ssi,” Dongseok tries to reason, hands raised as if Chan is being the unreasonable one here. Chan looses a growl when one of his hands comes close to crossing the threshold of the apartment and he wisely retracts his hands.
Dongseok clears his throat.
“Look, Felix’s shoot is scheduled for tomorrow. It’s been on the calendar for months. If he’s going to make it there in one piece, we need to get him ready. He’ll need suppressants at the very least and—”
“What he needs is to rest,” Chan growls. He’d already explained this multiple times over text and phone calls the day before when they’d arrived. “Reschedule the shoot.”
“We can’t just–” Chan slams the door in his face.
He stands there for a moment, letting the anger pour through his body. The outrage. He tries to let it pass quickly so as to not stink up the apartment with his soured scent. It must reach the other room anyhow because Felix’s voice rises like a chirp from the other room.
“Channie?”
Chan takes a deep breath and centers himself, returning back to the bedroom where Felix is sprawled out on the king size bed, stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers. He’s holding his phone to his side like he’d been scrolling on it but had lost the energy to hold it up.
“I’m here baby,” Chan soothes.
“I don’t mind taking suppressants," Felix murmurs.
Chan sighs. He wasn’t sure if Felix had been listening in but this confirms it. The omega’s gaze is pinched in concern but even that expression seems like an effort to make. His eyes are glassy, skin dewy and glowing in a way that makes him look beautiful even though Chan knows he feels miserable. Heat sick.
“You’re not going to work tomorrow.”
“I promised,” Felix mumbles, eyes lazily tracking Chan as he comes to sit on the bed next to him, plush mattress sinking slightly with his weight. His eyes close when Chan brushes a gentle hand across the side of his head. His skin is feverishly hot.
“Your health comes first,” Chan says, softly but firm.
“Mmh,” Felix mumbles in protest but then goes quiet, leaning into Chan’s touch.
Chan withholds a coo. Tactile as Felix is, he’s not always one to accept touch as he is to want to give it in the form of back hugs and massages.
He pets his hair until the pinched look on Felix’s face eases a little and he lets out a quiet snuffle, slowly drifting back to sleep. Only then does Chan reluctantly pull his hand away and pull out the phone he’s been neglecting since they touched down last night and it was clear their plans needed to change.
There are dozens of unread messages from his team and the pack group chat. He’s unsurprised to see Jisung’s contact near the top of recent messages.
Hannie
How is lixie?
Something feels off
Can you check on him
I'm worried
Hyung
A dozen similar messages follow with increasing anxiety. Chan curses under his breath. He should have picked up the phone sooner. Jisung had been weird about the trip before they left. He was the one who insisted Chan go with Felix in the first place, was clingy with Felix in a way he only got when he himself was on the verge of heat.
Chan should have taken it as the sign that it was. The omegas in the group have always been more attuned to the hormonal shifts in the group. Chan should have taken it as a warning. He scrolls through the other messages, halting at Changbin’s most recent message from an hour ago.
Changbin
You might want to call me when you’re up, hyung.
I tried to stop him.
Chan’s brows furrow trying to make sense of the message but an insistent and loud knock at the door interrupts his thoughts. Chan huffs, ire spiking. He’s ready to relieve Dongseok of his job and maybe the skin from his bones. He practically rips the door open.
“What,” he says flatly and oh—
Jisung stares back at him from across the doorway. His hand is raised like he was about to rap on the door again, eyes wide and bloodshot. His hair is a disheveled mess like he rolled out of bed directly on a plane to get here. The lower half of his face is hidden behind a black surgical mask. He's wearing dark sweats and a t-shirt and has only a duffel at his side.
“Hi hyung,” he croaks.
Chan looks briefly past Jisung’s shoulder to make sure no one followed him and pulls him into the apartment. He scans over him, wrinkling his nose at the airport smell clinging to Jisung, the public's touch all over his body. Jisung remains pliant through it, allowing Chan to pat him down and sniff him.
“What are you doing here? Did you come here by yourself?”
Chan's questions seem to be the end of Jisung's patience, though, because he wriggles out of Chan's grip without answering them, eyes intent on the bedroom door. He stumbles forward, haphazardly stripping off his mask and clothes as he goes. Chan squawks and rushes to shut the front door.
“Jisung,” Chan whispers urgently, trailing after him. Jisung is already down to his briefs, hovering at the edge of the bed with his duffel still in one hand.
Jisung ignores him, peering over Felix's prone body, pupils massive. For a moment he just looks at him, soaking in the sight.
“There’s my baby,” Jisung coos quietly. He rifles through the bag and pulls out a swath of fabric. Chan recognizes it immediately. Tour merch. It’s drenched in the pack’s scent and must have been plucked directly from Felix’s nest back home.
Felix stirs lightly in his sleep, nose twitching as if sensing Jisung’s presence, but he doesn’t wake up. His face goes slack when Jisung deposits the sweatshirt on his chest, rubbing it gently into Felix’s skin.
“Jisung,” Chan tries again, keeping his voice low.
Jisung looks back at him then, his bloodshot eyes a little glassy, brow pinched.
“Felix is in heat,” he says.
“Uhm,” Chan offers. “Yeah.”
He’s still having a hard time reconciling the fact that a minutes ago he was fussing over Felix alone and suddenly he has both of his omegas in the nest. Well, almost in the nest. Jisung is still fussing around Felix at the edge of the bed, pulling out a few more items from his duffel and rearranging the blankets and pillows to form a form solid barrier.
Already it looks like a proper heat nest.
Chan feels something loosen in his chest as he watches. It’s not that he isn’t confident in his ability to care for Felix during his heat, but he doesn’t have the same ease that Jisung does with him. The rest of the pack still has to ask permission to enter Felix’s nest during heat, making a point of complimenting it so Felix can preen before coyly extending an invitation to enter. Jisung has never had to bother with such formalities.
It’s always been a little different between the omegas. The sunshine twins, attached at the hip even before the pack officially bonded. They spent all of their heats together, used to curl into a twin bed, combining their blankets and sheets and all of their clothes even when they didn’t have room for it. They seemed intent on merging into one another, always in tune with the other's needs.
In that sense, it's no surprise that Jisung is here now, fluffing the final pillow before he slips into the nest himself, curling into Felix’s side, nuzzling under his jaw. Felix is boneless in his hold, relaxed entirely now that the room pulses with the pack’s scent.
Chan is robbed of speech for a moment at the sight. For all the lyrics he writes and songs he produces, it will forever be impossible to put into words the weight of the bond between him and his boys. The bond between all of them. To call for help with the knowledge that someone will always come running. To have someone else be the voice to call or the legs to run when he cannot. His boys, his pack, his limbs.
Jisung must sense some sort of spike in his scent because he makes an inquisitive little noise and shifts to look back at Chan, gaze half-lidded and imploring.
“Won’t you join us?”
Chan huffs fondly.
“In a moment,” he promises. He pulls out his phone and snaps a quick photo and returns to his chat with Changbin, finding a few new notifications.
Changbin
Jisung said he arrived a few minutes ago
You guys are home, right?
Hyung?
Chan
It’s alright. I’ve got them.
Chan sends a picture back of the intertwined omegas before tossing his phone aside and climbing into the nest.