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Felix had managed to live nearly a century as a faerie without major incident. He hadn’t irreparably burned any vital bridges, never angered a swarm of pixies or stumbled into a camp of orcs and been passed around until everyone had their way with him. He was even on good terms with his family—practically a miracle, though it helped that they were separated by several islands and therefore couldn’t step on each other’s toes.
There was just one thing.
The curse.
It had only afflicted him for a few years now, and it hadn’t been too much of a hindrance, as of yet, but Felix had no way of knowing when exactly it would strike. Utter a specific phrase within his earshot, and he would fall into a deep slumber right where he stood. Like a kitten with a belly full of milk, Hyunjin had said once. He would sleep for exactly three hours, and then snap awake as if nothing had happened. Once he’d been in the middle of a sentence, the curse was triggered, and when he woke hours later, the end of his sentence came tumbling out.
Frustratingly, Felix didn’t even have a clue what the phrase was. He’d spent a long time puzzling over it, saying random phrases aloud to try and trigger it. It had to be something common, but not so common that it was constantly being activated. He’d never managed to figure it out.
The curse had only ever been activated when he was in a large crowd, sounds all around, and his ears picked up the words without Felix even grasping what was said. It wasn’t often that it happened, but in a large crowd, Felix could never feel safe.
Because of this, it wasn’t safe for him to go to the market alone. He usually clung to Hyunjin’s side whenever he had to go anywhere crowded, lining up his outings with Hyunjin’s own schedule. But Hyunjin was off-island for several weeks, and Felix was running low on supplies needed for the potions that Hyunjin would expect to be finished by the time he returned. He was already behind, having stumbled upon a revel a few days prior with Jisung—an outing he’d been persuaded into going to, and he’d been tense with nerves until he’d drunk enough to forget about the curse entirely. He was fairly sure that Jisung was still there.
Hyunjin, being a vampire, would not accept I Accidentally Spent Several Days Drinking and Dancing and Fucking as a valid excuse. Not when they had a deadline to meet. Or any other time, really. Non-faeries usually didn’t see the appeal of revels.
And so, Felix would have to go to the market. On his own.
He could stuff his ears with cotton, but that wasn’t a guaranteed solution. He could still hear, if the speaker was close enough, and the curse would activate all the same, just as if it had been shouted into his ear. He did so anyway, just as a precaution, hiding his stuffed ears behind strands of white-blonde hair, and started towards the market.
The market was busy, as it usually was. Felix wrapped a scarf around his head for good measure and maneuvered through the crowd. If his luck was good he would only have to stop at one stall and then be on his way. He passed stalls selling food and wares, mostly manned by humans. Towards the back of the market was where the witches would be, selling alchemy ingredients and spellbooks.
The old witch greeted Felix with a familiar nod. Felix scanned the baskets and jars spread across the stall. There was a string of dried orc’s ears hanging like bunting across the top.
“A couple of those,” he pointed to the blusher mushroom, and the woman took a handful and placed them in a canvas sack. Salamander eyes followed, in a little glass bottle. Milkweed seeds in a little pouch, and canis root in several gnarled bunches.
“Anything else?” The old woman asked, the sound muffled behind the scarf.
Someone bumped into Felix and he lurched forward, catching himself on the stall. He turned to scowl at whoever had done it, but it wasn’t immediately obvious. Too many people around. The witch gave him an odd look.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered under his breath, digging in his pocket for his coin pouch. He’d brought both the one full of real coins and the one of leaves and buttons enchanted to look like gold coins. The witch would know the difference.
He emptied the pouch and stuffed it back into his pocket. He extended his hand, coins clinking, for the witch to—
Felix startled awake, coins tumbling from his hands and clinking one after the other against the stone floor. He blinked, one second in the market, the next in… someone’s house.
It was the kind of place humans lived in. Small, modest, one-story cottages built out of wood. The entire house was one room, and small enough that one could cross from one end to the other in only ten or so strides. In one corner was a wood-framed bed, in the other was the tiniest kitchen Felix had ever seen. A threadbare rug, a little table with two chairs, a chest of drawers. A large stone fireplace, with a pot for cooking.
And in the middle of the room was a hook, screwed into the stone flooring. Attached to the hook was a length of chain, which led from the hook in the floor to Felix’s neck. To the thick metal collar around Felix’s neck, which he discovered with fumbling fingers was locked into place. There was a little hole in the back where a key would go.
“Fuck,” Felix said, too stunned to be panicked. He wrapped a hand around the length of chain. “Oh, fuck.”
He scanned the room again, this time looking for someone. But it was empty. There was a coat rack by the door, with two large coats hung on it, along with the scarf that Felix had wrapped around his head at the market. Half a loaf of bread on the countertop that looked as if it’d been sitting there for several days. A pair of shoes peeking out from beneath the bed.
Whoever lived here surely wouldn’t leave him alone for long. Chained to the fucking floor, no less.
Felix reached out for his magic, and found there was nothing. As if it were locked away in a box, inaccessible but still there, tucked away in a dark corner of his mind.
It was the sensation of reaching for something and only just missing it, of an itch you can’t quite scratch. His brain whirred in confusion for several long minutes, like one fumbling around the house in search of something important and leaving a mess in their wake.
He recited several spells, both whispered and near-shouted. There was nothing. He tried to open the padlock, to summon an apple, to spell his shoes into a pair of gloves. Nothing. As if his decades of practice were simply gone. As if the gift he’d been born with had been plucked out of him.
Now that he’d noticed it was gone, the lack of it felt profound. Like he was missing a limb.
“What the fuck,” he hissed.
The collar. The collar was blocking his magic.
Panic inched its way up from the pit of his stomach, now. He’d gotten himself into plenty of unpleasant situations in his life, but in recent years he always had Hyunjin by his side. Never had he faced such grim circumstances on his own, never had he been without his magic. His constant companion for as long as he could remember, an ever-present safeguard.
He was magicless and alone.
Lee Minho, Felix scowled inwardly, fuming—not for the first time—at the thought of the faerie who’d cursed him. He had certainly learned his lesson: never try to outwit a faerie several centuries older than you. The faerie hadn’t even done anything to Hyunjin, charmed as he was by the vampire—even though it had been Hyunjin’s idea to sneak into Minho’s manor in an attempt to swipe an exceedingly rare brewing ingredient. Felix had just been along for the ride.
Even so, Felix had been cursed. Mature faeries were fickle creatures.
Hyunjin would come for him. He would. He wasn’t due back for several more days, but he would find Felix. The stones they’d enchanted would lead him to Felix, and—
Felix patted his pocket for the stone. It was gone.
“Fuck!”
He jumped to his feet and jerked on the chain, pulled on it with all his strength. It didn’t budge. Hearing the rattling of the chains, he realized that the cotton had been removed from his ears, too. Curiously, the coin pouches were still in his pocket, the empty one and the enchanted one. The knife he kept in his boot was, of course, gone.
The chain was long enough to allow him to move across the entire open room. He tried the front door first, and found it wouldn’t budge. Solid wood stuck in place by a lock he couldn’t spot. He wouldn’t be able to pass the threshold anyway, due to the chain. In the kitchen, he opened every drawer and cabinet. There was a heavy iron pan, that he could perhaps thwack someone across the head with, but there was no way to hide it. None of the drawers contained a knife or even anything sharper than a fork.
He didn’t feel comfortable about charging at an unknown assailant with only a pan to defend himself with. Without his magic, he was fairly useless in a fight.
There was a little mirror made of polished stone next to the front door. Felix stood on his tiptoes to inspect himself in it. The collar was two inches wide, and simple, no embellishments other than the hook for the chain. It looked crudely made, for what something like this would cost, and cold in the places where it hadn’t been warmed by Felix’s body heat. It suited him, as all things did, but he did not like it. He wanted it off of him sooner rather than later. It had to be what was locking his magic off.
He paced the length of the room, the chain following obnoxiously behind him. The view from the windows didn’t give him much to go off of. He was still on-island, he could tell that much. But all around was just woods, past the clearing where the house sat. It looked like any other expanse of woods he’d seen before. He could be a stone’s throw from home or on the opposite end of the island, for all he knew.
The front door flung open, and Felix whirred around. In the entryway stood a large man, holding a bundle of firewood.
Not a man, exactly. A werewolf, Felix realized as he looked him over. The gold-brown eyes were the first indication. He had fangs that just barely protruded past his lips, and a large, slightly hunched build, arms covered in thick hair. The hair on his head was curly and stark-black, and a second set of ears was nestled among the curls, furry and sticking upright. The right one looked as if a chunk had been bitten out of it. There was a long, jagged scar that ran from his left cheek, down his neck, and descended beneath his shirt.
Felix blinked at him for several long seconds.
“Oh,” the man said. “You’re awake.”
He crossed the room to place the wood down by the fireplace. Then he turned to look at Felix, who stood frozen.
After a few beats of silence, Felix remembered himself and grabbed the chain. “Remove this,” he ordered, chin high.
The man’s face was impassive. “No.”
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” Felix said slowly, affecting more bravery than he felt. “But you don’t want to mess with me, little dog.”
“Little?” The man said cooly, and slowly made his way over to Felix, heavy boots thumping with each step. Felix held his ground, chin tilting up and up, until the man stood right in front of him. More than a head and a half taller than Felix and much, much wider. Felix could see the well-defined muscles beneath the man’s shirt, arms rippling with them.
The man placed a heavy hand on his head. He smelt of the outdoors, of dirt and wood and dog. “It’s not me who’s little.”
Felix knocked the man’s hand away. “Why did you take me from the market? You should have just left me there!”
“If not me, someone else would have snatched you up,” the man turned back to the fireplace, and began filling it with logs. “And they tried. You caused a commotion when you passed out. An unconscious faerie is a nice prize.”
Felix bristled. Shit. It was so stupid of him to have gone out alone. He should have just waited for Hyunjin to return and let him be angry with him for not finishing the potion order. The damned pirates could wait a few more days for their waterbreathing potions. Hyunjin was the better alchemist, anyway; Felix still considered himself his apprentice, and sometimes made mistakes when Hyunjin wasn’t around to supervise.
He could have gone by Jisung’s to see if he had returned from the revel yet. Though Jisung did not even know of his curse—it wasn’t something that Felix was very forthcoming about sharing—and maybe would’ve been no help anyways. He had a blasé attitude towards most things. Felix could imagine himself falling asleep and Jisung simply leaving him there. Felix had taken a chance before, going to the revel with him.
Felix watched on quietly as the man built the fire. He wore simple clothes, sturdy and with no thought for fashion. The clothes of a human laborer. Felix looked down at his own intricately embroidered silk shirt and linen pants, tucked into a fine pair of basilisk-skin boots. The clothes on his back were probably worth more gold than everything in this house combined. His lip curled in distaste.
The fire was burning steadily now. The man dusted off his hands and stood. Felix squared his shoulders as the man turned around.
“What is your name?”
He offered it easily enough. “Chan.”
Felix didn’t bother asking for his surname, as he was surely wise enough to know better than to give it to him. Most people weren’t foolish enough to give it out to just anyone. It was possible that that wasn’t even his true first name. Giving a faerie your name could be a dangerous thing.
“Chan. I’m Felix,” he said, digging in his pocket for the pouch of enchanted coins. It was a full pouch, obviously a large sum for the wolf if his house and clothes were any indication. He held out the pouch of gold in Chan’s direction, coins clinking inside. “It’s been lovely to meet you. Now take this, and let me go.”
“I know your name,” Chan wore an unimpressed look. “And that’ll be a bag of leaves and acorns soon enough. Keep it.”
Felix narrowed his eyes. “You… know my name?”
Chan nodded.
Perhaps Felix’s reputation preceded him more than he’d thought. He was an apprentice to the island’s most proficient alchemist, and had spent some time in the King’s Court, but he didn’t know that he was known even outside of faerie circles.
Unless Felix had met this man before. He didn’t think he had, but Felix had met many people in his lifetime and could not be expected to remember them all. Especially not one so unremarkable as a werewolf. He thought back, but nothing stuck out. The man wasn’t familiar.
He scowled and stuffed the bag back into his pocket. Chan eyed the movement, seemingly in thought. He looked Felix up and down, from his booted feet to the top of his head.
“Take off your clothes,” he finally said.
Felix recoiled as if he’d been slapped. “What?”
“Your clothes,” he repeated. “Take them off.”
“No! What the fuck is wrong with–!”
Chan came forward until Felix’s thighs were pressed against the edge of the bed, caged in by the man. He ripped Felix’s fine silk shirt from his body, long, curved nails slicing through the material easily. They grew thick from the bed of the nail and ended in sharp points. Black at the tips, color leaching all the way to his second knuckle before blending into his natural skin tone in a soft gradient. He tossed the torn fragments over his shoulder. Felix gaped, falling back onto the bed.
“You goddamned cur!” He shouted, hands splayed over his chest protectively. Chan started forward, and Felix kicked out at him. His chest was as hard as rock, he didn’t so much as flinch as Felix’s feet thumped against it. He crawled over Felix, grabbing his hands and pinning them down to the bed above his head.
“You should do as I say,” Chan said quietly, in the same unaffected tone, as if nothing Felix did bothered him. “I will get what I want either way.”
“You– let me go,” Felix’s breath came heavy. He pushed against Chan’s hold helplessly. “Let me up, you fucking mutt.”
“Quiet. You’re prettier when you don’t speak.”
Chan held both of Felix’s wrists in one hand, pinned to the mattress, and used his free hand to remove Felix’s boots. He kicked and squirmed, but lost the boots anyways. Then Chan’s hand went to Felix’s pants, claws dipping beneath the waistband, hands warm and rough where they touched his skin.
Felix was stronger than a human, but he was no match against a werewolf, not without his magic. Chan could probably lift Felix over his head with one hand. He had no chance of fighting the wolf off.
“Don’t,” he said in a panicked exhale. He’d gone still to try to appease the wolf. “Leave them.”
Once again, Felix couldn’t decipher what Chan’s expression meant. He was still for a moment, contemplating. And then he yanked off Felix’s pants and underclothes in one motion, fabric ripping with the force. He gasped, reflexively trying to reach down to cover himself, but Chan’s hold on him stayed tight. He tried to bring his legs together but Chan tsked and shoved them open, placing his own legs between them.
Felix was on display, red from freckled cheeks to freckled chest, squirming in the werewolf’s grasp. He was no stranger to sexual situations with people he’d just met, but never with a werewolf. Never in such circumstances.
He’d never felt so vulnerable in his entire life.
“You’re little here, too,” Chan almost grinned, flicking the tip of Felix’s cock.
“S-stop!”
“It’s cute,” he took Felix’s limp cock in hand, stroking it gently. It felt rather like having a knife pressed to his dick, what with Chan’s long claws, but he kept his touch soft. “What would a faerie need a big cock for anyway?”
He was not that small. Sure, Chan probably had a monster of a cock, and Felix would be small in comparison, and he did, admittedly, look tiny in the werewolf’s massive hand. But he was a perfectly average size for a faerie. He dug his nails into the flesh of Chan’s hand in retaliation. The wolf didn’t even flinch.
“Don’t touch me,” Felix snapped. His mind scrambled to think of a way out of this situation and came up short. Begging was a disgustingly human thing to do, but what other choice did he have? “Please. Just– let me go–” his breath hitched as Chan thumbed at the slit with the pad of his large thumb, the claw of which loomed menacingly overhead.
“Didn’t you hear me?” He asked, movements languid. He let the tip of his claw just barely prick Felix’s tender skin, not quite enough to draw blood. “I said you’re prettier when you don’t speak.”
Then he let go of Felix, both his hands and his cock, and was suddenly across the room. Felix blinked dazedly. It took him several moments to recover and realize he could finally move his arms from where they lay above his head. He rubbed at his wrists that had gone sore in Chan’s tight grasp, and pushed himself upright.
Chan was in the kitchen. He was cooking. Chopping potatoes with a knife that had appeared seemingly out of thin air.
Felix gaped dumbly for several seconds before he could speak. “You just… that’s all? You just wanted me naked?”
“For now.”
That did little to quell his anxiety. Chan would have his way with him, that seemed like a guarantee. Why else would Felix be here, chained to the floor? But he took advantage of the respite.
He crouched down on the floor to gather the coins he’d dropped when he woke up. He stuffed them back in their little pouch, and slid both of the coin pouches just beneath the bed.
His shirt lay in ribbons on the floor. He took a strip of it in his hands, running a finger over the ruined embroidery. He frowned. It had been an expensive shirt; he’d spent real money on it, to maintain a good relationship with the seamstress. It was one of his favorites.
It was still pretty, though the floral pattern was no longer discernible. Frayed threads of pink and green and orange. He pulled his hair up high on his head and tied the strip around it. A tumble of long, white hair fell over his shoulder.
When he looked up, he found that Chan was watching him, expressionless.
“What?” His brow furrowed, and he curled in on himself a little, strangely self conscious. It wasn’t a familiar feeling.
Chan looked away. “You’re pretty, is all.” It didn’t sound like a compliment, in that simple, straightforward way that Chan spoke.
Felix bared his teeth. “I’m more than pretty, you brute. Don’t compliment me at all if it’s going to be something so insubstantial.”
“Your mouth wanes some of the appeal,” Chan said. “Lovely on the outside, rotten in the core.”
“That doesn’t hurt me, Wolf.”
Faeries were fierce by nature, irascible and capricious. It was built into Felix to deceive and taunt and rile. He knew that, and did not feel bad for it.
He was not all bad. He could be kind. He just didn’t often see the point of it, especially to those he didn’t even like. He could love, too. As he loved Hyunjin. As he loved others, before him.
But he wasn’t eager to spare any of his goodness for the creature that had captured him.
Chan made them dinner. He ordered Felix to sit at the little table, and sat down a plate of steaming food in front of him. There was a clay mug of water, which Felix took a wary sip of. If the food was poisoned, he would at least be able to detect it by taste. Hyunjin had trained him over the course of several long, dreadful months to do so.
But the food was just food, untampered with. Potatoes and chunks of pork that Chan had cooked with the iron pan over the fire. Surely the man would not go through all this trouble just to poison him, anyway.
Felix was not particularly fond of the foods that humans ate, especially not greasy, hearty things like this, but he was hungry enough to pick at it. The wolf had a portion twice the size of Felix’s, and was scarfing it down with vigor. Felix watched him, and suddenly lost his appetite. When Chan finished his own food, Felix slid his plate across the table to him. Chan ate that, too.
By now, it had grown dark outside, the room lit by the steady fire in the fireplace.
“I suppose you’ll want to fuck me, now that you’ve eaten.”
Felix looked Chan in the eyes as spoke. They glowed gold in the firelight.
“It cannot happen tonight,” Chan said. “You will have to prepare yourself well. I won’t be able to help you,” he tapped his long claws against the table to illustrate his point. Felix thought of his shredded shirt.
Felix tilted his head sideways. “Not tonight?”
“Not until you’re stretched enough to take me.”
“And if I won’t?” Felix asked. “Prepare myself.”
“Then I’ll split you open,” Chan said simply. “It is for your own benefit. I will wait.”
Felix frowned, and looked away. He could not be irreparably damaged. His body healed faster than a human’s. But if Chan didn’t yet know that, then Felix wasn’t going to tell him. He certainly didn’t want to be split open on the man’s cock, even though he would recover quickly. Maybe he could get himself out of this mess before Chan deemed him ready.
“There are plugs. Three of them, to work you up to it.”
“You could just fuck someone your own size,” Felix grumbled. “Forget all of this. Let me go.”
Chan took Felix by the chin roughly, forcing his eyes back to Chan’s. The chain clinked against the collar.
“It will be you. It will be easier if you accept that now.”
Felix exhaled heavily, face turning red. He jerked out of Chan’s grasp.
“You’re a beast,” he huffed, and stood from the table.
He perched on the edge of the bed, as he had nowhere else to go. He opted to face the window rather than watch Chan clean up the mess from dinner. Outside, it was still and quiet.
Chan cleaned their dishes in a basin of water, and then opened the door and left without a word. Felix watched him through the window until he rounded the back of the house and was out of sight.
Felix jumped up and ran over to the basin, searching for the knife that Chan had used earlier, but it wasn’t there. He cursed, and trudged back over to the bed in defeat.
When Chan returned, Felix was curled up beneath the quilt. Chan’s hair was damp, ears pressed back on his head, and he was shirtless despite the chilly evening temperature. Felix supposed werewolves ran warmer than most. Without the shirt, he saw that the scar beginning at Chan’s cheek traveled all the way down to the middle of his abdomen, and his torso was as well-defined as his arms.
He was carrying a wooden box, Felix realized belatedly.
“What is that?”
Chan set it on the bed before him and unlatched the top. Inside were three plugs, made of carved white stone, lined up in a bed of straw. The smallest was about the size of Felix’s own cock—a perfectly normal size. The second was considerably larger, but nothing that Felix hadn’t taken before.
The third. The third looked wider around than his fist. Would Chan be bigger still?
Chan produced a vial of clear oil from his pocket.
Felix gulped. “You will really make me do this?”
Chan wordlessly took Felix’s hand and placed the vial in it.
Well, the first one would be nothing, he told himself. The second would not be too difficult, either. He would be out of here before he worked himself up to the third one. He would be.
He laid back on the bed and spread his legs. Chan, the lecherous dog, just watched as he slicked himself up and nudged a finger inside. It took some work, as it had been a while since he was last fucked. He had abstained at the revel, electing to just watch as orgy after orgy broke out, dozens over the course of several days.
Still, it was not an unfamiliar sensation, and the resistance wore away easily enough.
“Good,” Chan praised when Felix added a second.
And then his hand was on Felix’s thigh, holding him open wider, watching rapturously as Felix worked himself open. A claw pricked the delicate skin of his thigh, drawing blood, and he hissed sharply.
“Wolf,” he said breathlessly. “Be gentle.”
Chan stroked his thigh in apology, his touch warm, and bent to lick up the blood. The action made Felix jump, which nudged his fingers against his prostate, forcing out a lewd moan. Felix flushed in embarrassment.
“Don’t– put your tongue on me, mutt,” he meant it to sound biting, but it had no real edge.
Chan retracted obligingly. Felix added another finger, pumping them in and out, scissoring himself open. He took his time, and the wolf allowed it. When he deemed himself open enough he asked for the plug. Chan took the smallest one from the box and doused it in the oil. He held it up, glistening.
“Take out your fingers.”
“I will put it in–”
Chan grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his fingers out. Felix gasped, suddenly empty, clenching around nothing. Then the stone was pressing at his hole, cold and insisting. There was still a stretch, but Chan went slow, a gradual, insisting pressure. He pushed the last of it in with a crooked knuckle, and it settled snugly between Felix’s cheeks. Chan’s expression changed infinitesimally, just a hint of satisfaction there.
Felix’s tense muscles relaxed and he exhaled heavily. His cock had hardened a little, but he pointedly ignored it. “Fuck.”
Chan shoved the wooden box beneath the bed. He brought Felix a little pail of water and a rag to clean the oil from his skin with.
When he finished, Chan went to dump the pail outside. Felix tucked himself back beneath the quilt, the chain snaking off the side of the bed.
“Do you need anything?” Chan asked when he returned.
Felix’s face scrunched in confusion. “What?”
“Before bed,” Chan said. “Is there anything you need?”
Felix almost let out a harsh laugh. What the fuck did Chan care if Felix needed a piss or a glass of water? “No.”
Chan nodded, kicked off his boots and threw his pants aside, left in only his undergarments. Then he approached the bed.
“Wait,” Felix held up his hand and Chan stopped in place. “What are you doing?”
Chan blinked. “Coming to bed.”
“No,” he shook his head. “You can’t sleep with me.”
“Funny, little faerie,” Chan said humorlessly, and slipped beneath the covers beside Felix.
Felix turned to glare at him. “I was serious. I’m not sleeping with you.”
Felix made to get out of the bed. Fine, he would sleep on the stone floor and freeze his ass off. He set his feet on the cold stone, and then Chan’s arm was curling around his waist to pull him close, Felix’s back to Chan’s chest. He held Felix tight enough that he couldn’t squirm away. He was big and warm; Felix could feel the muscles of Chan’s chest pressed against his back.
“Wolf,” he said, gravely serious. “Let go of me.”
“Hush, Felix. Go to sleep.”
Felix was momentarily stunned into silence. That was the first time Chan had called him by name. Felix couldn’t tell if he was feeling intrigue or revulsion. Perhaps a mix of both.
He let out an unhappy little huff of air, but closed his eyes as commanded.
—
When Felix woke, the wolf was nowhere to be seen.
He stepped out of bed, wincing slightly. The plug was not overly large, but it was heavy. He poured himself a cup of water from a pitcher that hadn’t been there the night before. His brute had left him fresh water. How sweet.
He padded over to the chest of drawers in search of something to cover himself with. Chan would probably make him take it off, but he’d like to not be stark naked for a moment. There was a loose cotton shirt that buttoned up the front, cream in color. He buttoned it up, leaving the top few undone. It was flowy and fell to his mid-thighs, while he imagined Chan wore it as a normal shirt.
He muttered a self-cleaning spell under his breath out of habit, and stood there dumbly for several seconds when nothing happened. Right. The collar.
Felix was grateful that he wasn’t a human, and wouldn’t develop an unpleasant smell if he went without washing himself, as he saw no good place to do so in the cottage. Still, he should like to wash up now and again…
He downed the glass of water and pissed into the empty chamberpot. Just what exactly was he supposed to do all day, when Chan was gone? Sit around and wait until he was ready to be fucked?
The hook in the floor was stuck just as firmly in the stone floor as it had been the day before. He spent several minutes tugging and twisting it anyway. He tried the lock, too, yanking on the metal to no avail. He searched the room for anything he could pick it with, but found nothing. It probably wasn’t even possible to pick, if he was being honest with himself.
If he were back home, he’d be finishing up the waterbreathing potions by now, and would have the chance to work on his own projects outside of work. The revised invisibility potion he was working on, and had little success with so far. He’d injured a couple humans so far in the testing process, but there were always plenty of those to spare. It would be worth it in the end, when he was left with a more efficient method of concocting an invisibility potion.
He wasn’t completely heartless. He had paid them, at least, and with real gold.
It was a long while later when Chan finally came home, a bag slung over his shoulder. Felix had been sprawled across the bed, counting knots in the wood of the ceiling, but he sat upright at Chan’s entrance.
“Where have you been?”
Chan leveled a long look at him. “You’re wearing my shirt.”
“Oh,” Felix looked down at himself, having already forgotten. “Yes.”
Chan looked him over a moment longer, and then nodded wordlessly, as if deciding he would allow it. He sat his bag down on the table and began pulling it’s contents out. Ripe fruit: peaches, pears and blood oranges, bundles of grapes. A large wheel of cheese, and a loaf of fresh sweetbread. Jars of preserves and honey, and a corked jug of milk.
Felix sprung out of bed, and his stomach growled like it only just remembered that it was hungry.
“Oh, this is much better than last night, Wolf,” Felix said, popping several grapes in his mouth in quick succession. “Much, much better.”
“I asked a lady in the market,” Chan said, almost sheepish. “She helped me. I didn’t know you faeries ate so much sugar.”
Felix was a little warmed by the gesture. He found himself smiling for the first time since he’d woken up yesterday, and reached up to pat Chan on the head. “Good job, pup.”
Chan cut up some of the cheese and bread for him. Felix poured some of the milk into a mug and added some of the honey into it.
Chan started another fire and threw the scraps of Felix’s ruined clothes into it, all except for the strip that was holding his hair in its updo. Felix watched as what had cost several pouches of gold burned up, and found he did not care anymore. He still had his boots, at least.
“Tea?” Chan asked as he put a kettle over the fire.
“Yes!” Felix said cheerfully. He grabbed a pear and tore it in two with his bare hands, chewing as he spoke. “Tea would be lovely. You know, I don’t think these pears were grown on-island. These are very sweet, and I’ve found that the pears grown on-island taste faintly of soil. You pick up on things like that when you’ve been alive this long.”
Chan looked at him as if he’d just sprouted horns. “What’s gotten into you?”
“It’s my nature,” Felix shrugged. Faeries felt things in extremes. “You’ve put me in a good mood. Don’t worry, it will not last,” he smiled sweetly.
The tea, once brewed, smelled earthy and slightly floral. Felix added a generous amount of honey to his, while Chan left his as it was.
Chan sat across from Felix, and winced against the light streaming from the window, rubbing his hand against his temple. Curious. Headaches and sensitivity to light were symptoms of Wolfsbane withdrawal. If he used Wolfsbane to halt his transformations, as most werewolves did, and he had run out of it, then that could explain it. It wasn’t cheap; many werewolves were forced to go without and deal with the monthly transformations.
Felix’s head tilted inquisitively. “You have a headache?”
Chan leveled a heavy look at him and said nothing.
“What, are you out of Wolfsbane, or something?”
The look didn’t dwindle in intensity. Felix blinked.
“You are?” He lurched forward, pleased his theory was correct. “Fuck, seriously? You must feel terrible.”
Chan stirred his tea and took a long sip.
“Well, that’s fine,” Felix sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve some at home.”
The wolf’s expression didn’t change. He was quite good at holding one expression for a long stretch of time. Dull, was the look.
“Let’s make a deal,” Felix said, keeping his voice light.
“No,” Chan grumbled. “I’m not playing your games.”
“It isn’t a game,” Felix huffed. “It’s a deal. It’s different.”
“It’s a trick. I know how you faeries are.”
“A deal,” Felix said again, putting on a pleasant smile. He’d rather like to rip the creature’s limbs from its body, but alas. “You let me go home. Just for one hour,” he held up a single finger. “And I get you the potion.”
“No.”
“Wolf,” Felix scowled, a flash of annoyance infecting his good mood. “You need the Wolfsbane, yes?”
Chan nodded. “Mm.”
“So, you should accept the deal,” he shrugged. “I cannot lie. You will get your Wolfsbane.”
It was no secret that faeries couldn’t lie, but anyone with sense knew not to trust one. To Felix’s dismay, Chan seemed to have a healthy dose of good sense.
“You didn’t say you would come back. You said you would get the potion,” Chan said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “You will get the Wolfsbane, and then what? I will likely never see you again. You will send someone with the Wolfsbane, and have them cut my head from my body in revenge. Or you will run to the palace, deliver the potion with a guard in tow, and have me imprisoned. A trick.”
Felix’s eyes narrowed into slits, better to glare at the wolf with. True, he’d been planning to send a goblin to bring the potion back once he was safe at home. Chan couldn’t go fetch it himself, as the house was enchanted and he wouldn’t be able to enter without Felix altering it. He probably already suspected that.
Felix hadn’t seriously considered having the werewolf killed or imprisoned, but it was an appealing idea.
“What will you do without the potion?”
“Wait,” Chan said. “Endure.”
Endure, Felix scoffed internally. Werewolves were such overdramatic brutes. The idiocy of a human and the filthiness of a dog, all in one, topped off by the horrific transformations each month.
Humans were pitiful. They went gray and wrinkled like bad fruit. A human Felix’s age would be old and haggard by now, but Felix looked just the same as he had decades ago. Better, even. Frozen in time, one could only improve.
Chan, too, would age at the rate of a human. The wolf part of him wouldn’t do anything to slow that down. The thought pleased him, a little curl of glee unfurling in his chest. Chan would wither and die, and Felix would live for a long, long time after he was gone. Whatever happened, this was all temporary.
Chan would rot beneath the earth, and Felix would forget about him.
The thought cheered Felix back up, and he hummed happily around a bite of ripe peach.
Later in the afternoon, Felix was sprawled out on the bed once again. Chan sat by the fireplace, carving a little figure out of a chunk of wood, a very human hobby.
“Wolf?” Felix rested his chin on his folded hands.
Chan didn’t look up. “Mm?”
“Is this what we will do all day? Faeries are easily bored, you know.”
“You may do as you like, so long as you don’t leave the house.”
“There is nothing to do in the house, Wolf,” Felix grumbled. “That is the problem.”
“There will be something to do once you’ve worked your way through the plugs.”
Felix shot Chan a glare that the man didn’t even see. “You cannot expect me to sit around all day and wait for you to impale me. My brain will shrivel up and fall out of my skull.”
Chan’s lips quirked upwards in a brief flash. “I will go to the market tomorrow and buy you some books.”
“Fine,” Felix relented. He didn’t really expect Chan to choose something he would like, but it would be better than nothing. He liked to learn; perhaps it would be an opportunity to learn something new.
Suddenly a thought struck him. “I thought most werewolves lived in caves or something.”
Felix did not know many werewolves, or much at all about them, aside from the short section he’d read on them in a book on the effects of poison on various creatures. He had heard a lot of things about werewolves here and there, like that they mostly lived in caves, but never had the fact confirmed. He had also heard that they plucked birds from their nests and swallowed them whole, and Felix could not imagine Chan doing that. Perhaps most faeries were misinformed about wolves.
Felix had been alive a long time, but he’d spent most of his life around other faeries. He had probably spent whole years of his life at revels, drinking wine and being fucked and making mischief. There were several painfully dull years spent as a member of the King’s Court, before he tired of that. He met Hyunjin shortly afterwards, and began practicing magic under Hyunjin’s tutelage. That had led to more time spent around other creatures, though it was mostly vampires, and sometimes humans, and only very occasionally werewolves. They were not particularly conversational creatures, in Felix’s experience.
“Some do,” Chan said. “Not all.”
“Do you know any who do?”
“Yes.”
“Hm. A cave might be better than this,” Felix lifted the patchwork quilt up between pinched thumb and forefinger, face curled in distaste. “You know, if we must be stuck together, we would be much more comfortable in my manor.” He was joking. Mostly.
Chan said nothing.
“I’m inviting you over, Wolf,” Felix said nonchalantly. “I’m being polite.”
“No, Felix.”
“It would just be you and I. Well– the house goblin, too, but he’s no trouble. My housemate will not be back for several more days. I can explain the whole ordeal to him when he returns. I’m sure he will be sympathetic to your situation.”
Really, Felix couldn’t be sure how Hyunjin would react to this. He was often ambivalent and difficult to predict. He would either find the whole thing to be a slightly amusing annoyance, or he would suck Chan’s blood from his body. Hyunjin’s feelings towards Felix had seemingly waned in the past few months—hence why Hyunjin hadn’t brought him along on his foraging trip, much to Felix’s dismay. Still, he had a streak of possessiveness that came and went, where one moment he wanted Felix all to himself and the next he could care less who Felix was with. It was all rather confusing. Vampires were sometimes as fickle as faeries.
“That’s enough,” Chan suddenly stood, pocketing his knife and setting the carving on the mantle. “Come here.”
Felix narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Chan approached. “What is it?”
“Come, faerie,” Chan took his hand and pulled him over to the chest of drawers. He pulled a long leather leash out of the top drawer and clipped it to the loop of Felix’s collar. His large hand wrapped around the lock holding the chain in place and it snapped open, chain clattering to the floor.
Felix blinked down at it. “What–”
Chan held the other end of the leash in his hand. It was fine leather, well crafted. Felix brought his hand to the clasp, but found that it wouldn’t open. Enchanted to open only at Chan’s touch, likely.
“Where the hell did you get something like this?” It would not be a cheap enchantment, and the leash itself would have cost a good bit as well. Chan had a whole plethora of enchanted gear, it seemed. It didn’t make any sense.
“A friend,” Chan answered simply, and pulled Felix towards the door. He was forced to follow behind Chan. At the door, Chan indicated for Felix to put his boots on.
To Felix’s surprise, Chan brought him outside. He saw that the house was tidy from the outside, with well-tended flower beds beneath the front windows, a thatched roof, and a short fence around the yard. It was cute, he supposed, in a quaint sort of way.
“Where are we going?”
Felix was tugged along a pebbled pathway that looped around the back of the house.
“There’s a river nearby where we can wash up.”
“Oh, good,” Felix said breezily. “You need it, you smell of dog.”
Chan gave the leash a tug hard enough to make Felix choke. He stumbled, and glared at the wolf’s back.
Around the back of the house, there was an outhouse, a shed, a brick well, and a small, fenced in farm. Inside were neat rows of plants, some of which Felix recognized, all of them for the use of magic instead of for eating.
His brow furrowed in confusion. “You’re a farmer?”
“Of sorts. I grow ingredients for a witch. I sell to him exclusively.”
Felix hummed in response. It wasn’t anything unusual. Hyunjin had a supplier who did the same thing.
The pebbled path winded around the farm, tapering off into a well-trodden trail, and continued into the woods. After a while of walking, the woods gave way to a clearing, where a calm river ran through. Felix grinned at the sight. The area was wooded enough to feel private, but the riverbank was clear of brush save for a few wildflowers. The grass was still green despite it being autumn, and the river was a deep, dark blue. It would make a nice place to picnic, with the soft trill of the river flowing past.
Chan had soap stashed in the trunk of a tree, and he handed Felix a lump of it. He toed off his boots and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it aside unselfconsciously. He pulled the ribbon from his hair, the bundle of it tumbling loose around his shoulders, and then he was off, charging towards the river. Chan followed dutifully behind so that Felix wouldn’t choke himself on the leash, kicking his heavy boots off as he went.
It was cold. He shrieked as he bounded into the water, hands flapping at his sides. When he turned back around, Chan was already naked and waist-deep into the water behind him, the leash curled around his hand. Felix inspected it and saw that the leather repelled the water, so thoroughly enchanted that it was fucking water resistant.
“It’s fucking freezing,” he said, teeth chattering, hopping from one foot to the other on the sandy ground.
Chan grinned, looking perfectly comfortable. “Duck your head under the water. You’ll get used to it.”
Felix obeyed, and came up swearing, swatting at the werewolf’s chest. It was much worse with his hair wet, cold strands clinging to him.
Chan dipped beneath the water as well, and came up without a word of complaint, swiping water from his face, hair slicked back against his head, his ears more visible without the mess of curls around them. Felix eyed the bitten one, fighting the urge to reach out and touch it.
Felix did adjust to the cold after several minutes, and washed himself with the lump of soap Chan had given him. It’s smell was faint but pleasant. It would mask the smell of dog that enveloped Chan—for a bit, at least. He washed his hair, which was always a bit bothersome due to the length. It was easiest just to spell it clean, but…
“You should have brought me something clean to put on,” Felix griped once they were back on the riverbank, dripping dry. Chan had put his undergarments back on before Felix had the chance to see his length. He seemed to be purposefully hiding it from Felix, though Felix didn’t know whether it was because he was bashful or because he didn’t want to scare Felix. He had already seen the biggest plug, it couldn’t be much worse than that.
“Just walk back naked. You can put something else on once we’re back.”
Felix narrowed his eyes at him. He was not overly prudish, but it seemed an uncivilized thing to do. “You really are a beast.”
“No one will see,” Chan lay back against the riverbank, head resting against his muscled arms. Felix admired Chan’s broad, firm chest out of the corner of his eye.
He relented, and spread out his shirt on the ground so that he could lie on it. They lay there in a patch of sunlight that broke through the canopy of leaves above them, which were only just beginning to change color. Felix let his eyes slip shut, and the gentle sound of the river lulled him into sleep.
When they finally returned to the cottage after spending the afternoon lounging by the riverbank, Chan gave Felix another one of his shirts to wear. Beige, this time, and falling to the same place on his thighs as the white one had – more of a tunic than a shirt, really. His request for a pair of pants was met with a blank look.
They ate more of the fruit and cheese and bread, and Felix collapsed back onto the bed with a hand on his stomach, uncomfortably full.
“You treat your prisoners pretty well, Wolf,” he said leisurely. “Besides the lack of pants. And, well…” he tugged at his collar. “This part is rather annoying.”
Chan said nothing.
“We’re not supposed to get along at all, you know. A wolf and a faerie, captive and captor,” Felix pushed himself up on his elbows to look at Chan. He had resumed carving the block of wood. “But you’re not so bad. There are worse creatures to be kidnapped by, I suppose.”
Felix thought of the anatomical drawing of an orc’s cock he’d seen in a book in Hyunjin’s library and grimaced. That was truly monstrous. Chan’s cock would be a mercy, by comparison. It had to be.
“Who says wolves and faeries aren’t supposed to get along?” Chan asked without looking up.
“Well… that’s just the way of things,” Felix tapped his chin in thought. “Isn’t it? I’ve never known a wolf and a faerie that were anything more than acquaintances.”
Wolves tended to stick to their own kind, and faeries regarded anything they deemed as lesser than not worth their time. Wolves, of all the creatures Felix had encountered, were the most reclusive. Felix had never really had a problem with that. The ones that he’d met due to his profession had been enough to sate his curiosity, at the time.
Admittedly, being around Chan made him want to learn more.
“It’s not as if we’re natural enemies, though. I like faeries well enough.”
“That’s obvious,” Felix rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise, hm?”
Chan didn’t respond to that. A little pile of wood shavings had formed on the floor before him.
“The wolves that come to me for Wolfsbane, they’re surly and brooding like you,” Felix said. “Rarely do you see a cheerful werewolf.”
“It is not an easy life. I’m sure many of them are already experiencing withdrawal by the time they scrounge up enough coin for some Wolfsbane. You would not be very cheerful, either.”
“You’ve never come to me for Wolfsbane, have you?” Felix asked. There were many wolves that sought him out directly, and many more that visited the shop owned by Felix and Hyunjin where they sold their potions. Felix did not spend much time there, as they hired a human man to tend to it. When a wolf came to him, he tried to direct them to the shop instead, but many of them did not like going into town.
“No,” Chan said. He didn’t elaborate further.
Felix hummed, and stood to pour himself a cup of water, downing it in several long gulps. He perched himself on the edge of the table, facing Chan. “I find them to be a bit unpleasant, honestly. Wolves, I mean.” Chan shot him a glare, and he held out a hand placatingly. “No offense.”
“What’s so unpleasant, then?” Chan set the block of wood aside and pocketed his knife. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, finally giving Felix his full attention.
“First of all, your kind reeks of dog,” he held up his hand to list off his points on his fingers. “They’re reclusive, and share a bad temperament—you yourself are testament to that.” Chan’s frown deepened. “You must stay away from them when the full moon is near, lest you have your throat slit by a pair of filthy claws.”
“Enough.”
“Part human and part dog,” Felix went on, face pinched in distaste. “What could be worse than that?”
Chan stood abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Watch your tongue,” he pushed his thumb past Felix’s lips, hooked it behind Felix’s teeth to press the sharp claw to his tongue. Felix winced against the pressure. “Or I’ll cut it out.”
When Chan retracted the digit, Felix scoffed. “Sure you will. You’re soft, I can tell.”
The words were barely out before Chan slapped him across the face. Felix’s head snapped to the side with the force of it, cheek stinging. He brought his hand up to hold it, mouth hung open in a shocked little ‘o’.
“Stop being a brat,” Chan said, gruff. “It’s unseemly.”
Shock melted into bright hot anger. Against his better judgement, Felix lurched forward, rising onto his tiptoes to get in Chan’s face, hissing, “What would you know, you fucking mutt?”
Chan grabbed him by the collar, rough enough to briefly steal Felix’s breath, and threw him onto the bed. Chan was there before he could lift himself up, pressing him into the mattress and flipping up the shirt to expose his ass.
“Stop—!”
Chan's hand came down hard on Felix’s ass. Then again, and again. He was disciplining him as humans disciplined their misbehaving children, Felix realized. He kicked and jerked, but Chan held him in place and kept on. Ceaselessly, his hand like a whip, Felix screaming and thrashing. The swats jostled the plug inside him, and every so often gave him a brief, confusing flash of pleasure.
“Push too far and I’ll push back,” Chan said, not pausing his strikes. They came down with a crack, Chan’s massive hand coloring his ass red. “Behave, and things will be easy for you, little faerie.”
“Stop it!” He tried to throw his hands back to protect himself, but Chan caught them easily and pinned them against his back. “Chan. Enough!”
Chan kept on. Alternating between hitting Felix in the same spot over and over again and going back and forth between each cheek. Even his upper thighs got a good amount of attention.
Felix, somewhat surprisingly, did not have a high pain tolerance. Sure, his wounds healed unnaturally fast—a benefit of his faerie blood—but he felt pain the same as any other creature. He was quick to cry, or curse, or shout when something hurt. And such focused, continuous pain had him wailing.
Chan didn’t stop until Felix had gone limp. He was crying steadily, soft, hiccuping sobs. He would heal soon enough, but it hurt terribly right now. His skin felt almost numb, and yet it stung and ached.
Chan tried to pull him up, but Felix pushed against him until Chan swatted him harshly once more. Felix shrieked and allowed himself to be maneuvered into his lap. He hovered several inches over Chan’s thighs so that his reddened backside wouldn’t come into contact with the rough material of Chan’s pants.
He glared at the wolf pitifully, face blotchy and tear-stained. Chan swiped away a tear as it fell down Felix’s freckled cheek.
“That’s enough of all that,” he said. “You’re a dreadful little thing. Rude as anything.”
“I’m a faerie,” Felix sniffed, wiping his eyes dry. “It’s in my nature.”
“I’ve no problem teaching you some respect. Not sure you’d enjoy it so much.”
“I don’t like you,” Felix snapped. Chan didn’t so much as twitch. “I don’t respect you. Hit me all you like, it’s not going to change anything. Now let me up.”
Felix made to get up, but Chan grabbed him by the waist, two large hands holding him in place.
“Not so fast, faerie. I want an apology.”
“You cannot be serious. You owe me an apology. Several apologies!”
Chan raised an eyebrow. “Shall we continue?”
“No! I–” he sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, alright?”
Chan held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “That’ll do. Your apologies will improve with time, I’m sure.”
“Faeries do not apologize. Take what you can get, Wolf.”
“You will learn,” Chan said, cupping Felix’s face in his hands. He traced a thumb along the point of Felix’s ear, admiring the line of piercings that began at the lobe and traveled all the way to the tip, a precession of gleaming metal. “We have to put in the next plug.”
“Oh,” he frowned. He had mostly forgotten about the plug inside of him, after he’d gotten used to the strange weight of it. “Right.”
Chan pulled out the wooden box from beneath the bed and handed Felix another vial of oil. It was less intimidating than the night before, though it was still strange to have Chan watching silently at his side. He pulled out the plug and stuck three oiled fingers into his loosened hole. He worked them in and out for a while before sliding a fourth in gingerly alongside them.
When he was ready for the next plug, Chan oiled it for him as he’d done the night before, and pushed it in slowly. Felix gasped against the stretch, muscles tensed, fingers twitching against his stomach. Chan’s touch didn’t linger; as soon as it slid into place, he pulled away.
Felix blinked up at the ceiling, eyes heavy. He was thoroughly exhausted now. Again, Chan brought him water and a rag to clean himself with. Felix did so hurriedly, and then descended beneath the quilt.
The new weight inside of him was an adjustment. It was noticeably uncomfortable, more so than the last one. But he had gotten used to that one fairly quickly. He’d probably forget about it by the time he woke up.
Chan puttered around the house, tidying up. Felix pulled the blanket up to his chin and let his eyes slip shut. By the time Chan slipped into bed behind him and pulled him close, he was too sleepy to protest.
—
Felix woke once again in Chan’s bed, without Chan. He turned to feel the wolf’s side of the bed, and found it was cold.
Blessedly, his ass had healed overnight. The deep-seated ache had completely faded. He looked over his shoulder to see that the angry red color had faded, too. The skin looked untouched.
The plug, though, still felt uncomfortable. Too big, too invasive, too heavy. Though his body had adjusted to the stretch, he still wanted it out.
He considered removing it, but he didn’t want to risk being spanked again. Besides, Chan might fuck him then and there if he lifted Felix’s shirt to find that the plug was gone.
Felix was not scared of the wolf. But he was… something. Some complicated emotion that he couldn’t quite decipher. The wolf was fond of him, to an extent, but he also wasn’t afraid to hurt him, as evidenced by last night. Surely the wolf intended to keep him for a long while. What would be the point of all the work put in to loosen him without injury, otherwise?
He also did not like Chan, but did not feel anything as strong as hatred, though he certainly should. The mutt had taken his magic and chained him up in his dingy, too-small house to be used however Chan liked. Felix should have him hung, or sent to prison for the rest of his short, half-human life.
But, curiously, he found that he didn’t want to.
He wanted to be free of this place, to return to his life. But he didn’t want anything bad to happen to Chan. Well—not so bad as all that. He deserved some sort of punishment for everything he’d put Felix through over the past few days. Several days in the pillory, or… a hefty fine, he didn’t know. He could come up with a worthy punishment himself, if given a few days to think it over. Perhaps he could come up with a clever curse.
Chan should hurt, that was for certain. But something had softened Felix towards him, and he couldn’t quite say what it was.
That he had noticed that Felix hadn’t eaten that first night, and asked a shop lady about what kinds of things faeries liked to eat? Or that he gave Felix the chance to loosen himself instead of just splitting him open?
But that was nothing to feel grateful for, really. Chan was wrong, no matter what kindnesses he offered Felix. He would rape Felix regardless, he had said so himself. His occasional tenderness did nothing to change that.
Parsing through all of that was nearly as confusing as his complicated feelings towards Hyunjin were. Hyunjin had been a large part of his life for quite a while now. Some confounding amalgamation of lover-best friend-business partner-mentor. It didn’t matter to Felix, whether they put a name to it. It was enough, getting to be near him. Learning from him. Hyunjin had been a vampire for far longer than Felix had been alive. He thought Hyunjin would never run out of things to teach him.
Still, Felix fought with Hyunjin more than he ever had with anyone else. They bickered and argued so terribly that they sometimes had to spend days away from each other, sequestered in opposite ends of the house until their work demanded they put their argument aside.
They did not always understand each other, being different species. Hyunjin, especially, lost his patience with Felix sometimes. He was more experienced in nearly every aspect, having lived for so much longer than Felix had. Hyunjin was one of the only people that could make Felix feel small.
Oftentimes, Felix felt as if he were beneath Hyunjin, licking at his boots, begging for a scrap of affection. Like a bothersome pet, whose owner did not care much for.
Felix loved him anyway.
So, it was like that, at least a little.
It was several hours later when Chan finally returned. Felix felt as if he were losing his mind from boredom, and he launched out of the chair when Chan came through the door.
“You’re back,” he said, a small smile on his lips despite himself.
“Come, faerie,” Chan beckoned him over. He had a bag slung over his shoulder. “We’re going out.”
Felix hurried over. Chan switched out the chain for the leash. Felix slipped on his boots and asked, “Are we going to the river again?”
“No. We’re going to the market.”
Felix’s eyes snapped up to Chan’s. “What?”
“I need a few things. I thought I’d bring you along with me.”
Felix looked down at himself. “I am not even wearing pants. And… you cannot– the collar. The leash,” he grabbed for the leather.
“What about them?”
“It is a sign of ownership,” Felix stated the obvious. “A werewolf owning a faerie is almost blasphemous.”
Faeries had always been at the very top of the social hierarchy. There was a faerie king on the throne, as there had been for thousands of years, and would continue to be forever. Faeries were not owned, especially not by creatures beneath their own kind. It was not the way of things.
“Isn’t it?” Chan smiled. He actually smiled, lips twisted up cruelly, his scar jumping with the movement. Felix marveled at the sight for a second.
“And– you do not own me, let’s be clear,” Felix shook his finger at Chan. “But everyone will stare! You– you cannot—”
Chan gripped him by the jaw, cutting him off. He patted his cheek tenderly. “Don’t worry, little faerie. I’ll look after you.”
Felix wrapped a hand around Chan’s wrist, pleading, “It’s too humiliating. Leave me here.”
“No. Come, Felix.”
Felix sunk to his knees when Chan tried to pull him along with a tug of the leash. He crossed his arms over his chest, jaw set determinedly. “I won’t go.”
“Shall I toss you over my shoulder and carry you, then?”
“I won’t go! Put the chain back. I’m not going anywhere on a fucking leash.”
Chan sighed, as if he were disappointed, and hefted Felix up in one easy motion. Felix over one shoulder, his bag over the other. Felix was bent at the waist, his face pressed into the wolf’s back, feet kicking wildly. His shirt followed him, leaving his exposed ass out for anyone that they passed by to see.
He pounded his fists against Chan’s back. “Wolf! Let me down!”
They were out the door, Chan’s boots crunching down the pebbled path, all the way past the fence. Felix continued cursing at him and demanding to be put down, but Chan kept on as if he couldn’t hear Felix.
“Chan, please,” he finally tried in a more agreeable tone. He was quickly becoming accustomed to begging, and was not at all happy about it. “At least go back and give me something else to wear. Please.”
“You should have asked for that before you threw that little fit. I would have allowed it.”
“Please, it’s cold–”
“You’ll be alright until we get back. It’s a short walk.”
“Chan, please.”
The wolf went quiet, aside from a soft, leisurely humming, which only served to piss Felix off more. His hair fell in a curtain around his face, obscuring his vision. He could only see the worn path and the wolf’s lower half, his boots kicking up dust as he walked.
Felix did not enjoy being thrown over Chan’s shoulder like a willful child, but he could not lie and say that it didn’t spark something inside him, if he gave it some thought. Chan strolled down the path without so much as breaking a sweat. There was something appealing about it, how the wolf could toss him around with hardly any effort.
But it was better to not think of that. Anger was safer than… whatever that feeling was.
When they reached the outskirts of the market, Chan, mercifully, set Felix down. Felix gave the wolf a nasty look and tugged his shirt down as far as it would go. He looked like he was walking around in a terribly unfashionable nightgown. He prayed that they would not run into anyone he knew.
Looking around, he realized that he knew where they were. This was a more rural area than where Felix lived, near the palace and the docks, which meant that the market nearest to his house was always busy up until night fell. Here, it was not overly crowded. Regardless, Felix still had the urge to put his hands over his ears to shield them from the noise.
Seeing the market gave Felix a rough idea of where Chan’s house was. It was not a far distance from home. He felt reassured that Hyunjin would be able to find him.
“Ready, little faerie?”
Felix shifted nervously. The last time he’d been to the market hadn’t exactly been a good experience. “Chan, the curse–”
“Scared someone else will snatch you up?” Chan sounded slightly amused. “You're on the end of my leash, you’ll be fine.”
“Just… don’t let anything happen to me,” Felix said, feeling small. “If I fall asleep.”
Chan’s expression softened. He placed a hand on Felix’s head, heavy but gentle. “I’ll keep you safe. Don’t worry.”
“Fine,” he nodded, straightening his posture. There was nothing else he could do, now that they were here. “Let’s go.”
As they walked along, Felix began to think that Chan hadn’t actually needed anything, and instead only wanted to show off the pretty faerie he’d managed to capture. They walked through the market slowly, and Chan scanned the contents of each stall without actually buying anything, Felix forced to follow dutifully along behind him.
People stared. Everyone stared. That in itself was not unusual; faeries often turned heads. But everyone’s eyes lingered on him for too long, looking him up and down, with no fear of him lashing out when he was at such an obvious disadvantage.
Felix did not allow his head to duck though he could feel his ears grow red-hot in shame. Of course, no one was going to help him. A human could not stand up to a wolf, and no faerie would pity anyone stupid enough to get themselves captured by a lesser creature. No one, not a vampire, werewolf, witch, or any other creature were going to stick their necks out to save a foolish little faerie.
There was one other faerie in the market, and she gave Felix a long look that flickered between amusement and disgust as they passed. He imagined he would feel the same if he saw anyone else in his position. His predicament was equal parts comical and pitiful.
They stopped before a stall full of leather-bound books, and Chan gestured for Felix to choose something. The man behind the stall gave them an odd look, which Felix ignored.
“I should have brought my gold,” he said, flipping open a book on healing potions. “I’m going to bleed you dry.”
“Don’t worry about the cost.”
Felix arched a brow at him. “Really?”
Chan nodded impassively.
“You aren’t just trying to impress me, are you?” Felix tucked the book under his arm and picked up another. “Watch what you say, I will take you at your word.”
“It isn’t an issue,” Chan said. “Buy whatever you like.”
Strange. Felix had just assumed that Chan was dirt poor, given his living situation and his simple style of dress. Enchanted items were expensive, though Chan had said that the leash had been from a friend. A gift? And the collar? A magic-deadening collar would cost an exorbitant amount. Maybe that had been a gift, too.
Felix chose a stack of books, ranging in subject from spellbooks to fictional adventure stories, and Chan paid the man with gold coins plucked from a full pouch. So Felix had misjudged Chan’s financial situation. He was at least not poor, even if the enchanted items had been gifts.
Chan did eventually buy something. They stocked up on more food, as they were almost out of what Chan had brought home the day before. Chan allowed Felix to choose the fruits, and they bought another loaf of bread, a head of cabbage, half a dozen eggs, and a canvas sack of oats. Lastly, they stopped at a stall manned by a witch, and Chan bought several packets of seeds, assumedly what he’d come for in the first place.
On the trip back, Chan allowed Felix to walk beside him, carrying his stack of books for him. He was a little embarrassed, now, about his outburst. He could have been allowed some proper clothes, and to walk on his own, had he not… thrown a fit. There would still be the leash, which was indeed humiliating, but he would have been spared some of it.
As Chan had said, if he could behave, then things would be easier for him. But he was not sure that he could cast his pride aside so readily.
Back at the cottage, the leash was exchanged for the chain. Felix kicked his boots off and went to the mantle where he arranged his new books in a line, spines out. He took one, and sat at the little table, thumbing it open.
Chan held something out to him, several inches from Felix’s face.
A lemon tart.
“What–” Felix blinked. “Did you buy that while we were at the market? I didn’t see…”
“Come on, then,” Chan said impatiently, bringing it nearer to Felix’s face. “You faeries like this sort of thing, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Felix smiled a little, taking the treat. “We do.”
It was sweet, and slightly sour. Felix hummed happily at the taste. “Good?” Chan asked, and Felix nodded. Chan patted his head, like a dog he’d just given a treat.
“But when did you buy this?” Felix frowned, thinking back to the trip.
“While you were looking at books. The next stall sold pastries.”
“Oh. I didn’t notice…” Felix pouted a little. If he got distracted so easily, he might miss a chance to get out of here. He would truly be a fool if he lost an opportunity to escape because he’d been distracted by a bunch of books.
Felix spent the rest of the afternoon reading, eventually moving to the bed. Chan mostly let him be, working with the little block of wood and his carving knife. The book on transfiguration potions gave him some ideas for things he would have to test when he got back home to his cauldron and the workroom that he and Hyunjin shared.
The sun began to set, and Chan relit the fire, sweeping up the little wood shavings from his carving and tossing them into the flames. Felix could see the carving taking shape. A deer, he thought. He had the cruel urge to throw the half-carved figure into the fire, but tamped it down.
Felix startled at a knock at the door, nearly dropping his book on his face. He sat up in an instant, looking to Chan with wide eyes.
“Expecting someone?” He dog-eared the page of his book and set it aside, scooting forward to sit at the edge of the bed.
“It’s alright,” Chan dusted his hands off on his pants, starting towards the door. “It’s a friend.”
“You– you could have said something!” Felix shouted in a whisper. “Give me some fucking pants!”
Chan did not give him a pair of pants. He opened the door, beckoning the visitor in.
The man was a werewolf. A little shorter than Chan, but even wider across, with biceps like the trunks of trees. He had the same yellow eyes, and dressed similarly, in clothes meant for working in. There was a long moment where the werewolf stared at him wordlessly, and Felix stared back with the same intensity. The man broke eye contact first.
“That’s the faerie?” He asked Chan, glancing over at Felix. He looked less than impressed.
“Obviously,” Felix sneered. “See any other faeries around here?”
“Felix,” Chan said, admonishing. “Behave.”
“I see what you were saying, now,” the man leaned close to Chan, faux-whispering. “About his mouth.”
Chan ran a hand over his face, sighing heavily. “Felix, this is Changbin. Changbin, the faerie.”
Chan ushered Changbin inside. Felix eyed him warily as he sat in one chair, and Chan sat in the one nearest to Felix.
“Here, Felix,” Chan motioned to the ground in front of him.
He scowled, offended. “Absolutely not. I’m not a fucking dog.”
Chan sighed again, and yanked on the chain hard enough that Felix fell to his knees, breath stolen from his throat. Chan placed his heavy boot on Felix’s head and pinned him to the floor. Felix cringed, dirt and grime being stamped into his fine hair, cheek squished into the stone floor. He squirmed around ineffectually.
“Wolf,” he hissed, murderous, hands turning to fists. “Let me up.”
“Quiet down.”
“You filthy fucking dog, I’m going to fucking kill you–”
Changbin let out a low whistle. “Fuckin’ hell, faeries. Uncivilized creatures.”
“What– you mongrel–!”
“Quiet,” Chan’s voice came out in a growl. “Or I’ll put you over the table and whip you raw.”
“When I get out of here, I’m going to curse you,” Felix went on undeterred, spitting with rage. “Both of you! I’m going to curse your mothers, I’m going to curse everyone you care about. You’ll wish you were fucking dead! Just you wait, you filthy mutts–!”
“That’s enough,” Chan snapped, and the pressure on Felix’s head was gone. He scrambled upright, but Chan’s hands were at his waist, hauling him up and over the table. Chan tugged him up until his feet were off the floor, then crossed Felix’s arms behind his back and held them in place. Felix’s face was practically in Chan’s crotch, his exposed ass facing the fire.
“Changbin,” Chan said. “Do you mind?”
Felix could hear the smile in the other wolf’s voice. “I’d be delighted.”
Felix jerked against Chan’s hold to no avail. It was hopeless, always. Chan was too strong, too large. He heard the tinkling sound of Changbin unbuckling his belt, leather pulled free of his pants in one swift motion.
“No,” Felix said, willing it not to happen. He writhed against the table but could not get his feet under him, could not pull free of Chan’s hold, could not do anything to stop it. “No, no, no–” “I’ll be quick, faerie,” Changbin said. Felix jerked when the man’s hand came down in a harsh swat, bare hand on skin. “Just keep still.”
Changbin was not gentle. The snap of the belt against Felix’s skin echoed throughout the small house, a sharp crack. As he’d said, he was quick. As soon as the belt left his skin, it was back even harder, barely a moment to breathe between strikes. Again, and again.
It didn’t take long for Felix to start shrieking. He would be bruised where Chan was holding his wrists from the force he used to keep him in place. Barely a minute in, and he was already crying, twitching pitifully against the table.
“Chan,” he cried. “Chan, please.”
Chan ran his thumb over the back of Felix’s hand in what he guessed was supposed to be a soothing little motion, but did little to actually calm him. He didn’t order Changbin to stop. It kept coming, ceaselessly, no matter how many pleas Felix muttered.
There was no relief, no moment of respite. Just the crack, crack, crack of the belt and Felix’s cries, strained and pitiful. Tears streaking down his pretty, freckled cheeks. The round of his ass burned, feeling as if the skin had broken, though Felix was fairly sure that it hadn’t. He couldn’t feel any blood.
Then it stopped, just as suddenly as it had started.
“That hurt, little faerie?” Changbin asked, admiring the welts covering Felix’s ass. Sloppy stripes of red, criss-crossing his delicate skin. He grabbed a handful of it, eliciting a tortured little sound from Felix.
“Yes!” he wailed. “Enough, please.”
“Chan?” Changbin addressed the other wolf. “Think he’s had enough?”
Chan must have shook his head no, because Changbin made a tsk noise and then the belt was back, quick and biting. Felix let out a miserable cry, hating Chan, hating Changbin, willing them to drop dead here and now. Willing someone to burst through the door and save him. Willing the collar to fall from his neck and his magic be restored.
It went on and on, until Chan must have finally decided he’d had enough and motioned for Changbin to stop. Chan lifted a weeping Felix from the table and placed him on his knees before him.
Chan got what he wanted anyway, and Felix was more humiliated than he would’ve been if he’d just obeyed in the first place. It was just like it had been with the leash, earlier. He’d suffered more for not giving in. None of it had been worth it.
Chan cupped Felix’s wet, sniffling face in his hands. He gave him a stern look. “Apologize to Changbin for being so rude.”
There was nothing Felix wanted to do less. It was unnatural for faeries to apologize—too human, too debasing. But he could not take anymore of the belt right now. He didn’t want to take it ever again.
Felix turned to the other werewolf, who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed casually. He didn’t look a bit guilty about stripping the skin from Felix’s ass. Felix rearranged his expression into something remorseful, as he’d seen humans do.
“I’m sorry,” he sniffed. “For being rude.”
“There, there,” he smirked, and patted Felix on the head condescendingly. “All’s forgiven.”
“Now,” Chan took Felix by the chin. “Apologize to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Felix said again, a perfect copy of the apology he’d just given Changbin.
“Master.”
Felix's head tilted in confusion. “Hm?”
“I’m sorry, Master,” Chan corrected. His expression was impassive, though Felix could see in his eyes that he was delighting in this. “Say it like that.”
Felix glared, ears burning up to the tips. “You are ridiculous.”
Chan slapped him, catching his cheek in his other hand and righting Felix’s face quickly. Only a warning, but still hard enough to leave a slight lingering sting.
“Go on, Felix.”
“I’m sorry,” Felix said through gritted teeth, not even bothering to appear genuine this time. He could hear Changbin chuckling behind him, and flushed brighter. “…Master.”
Chan smiled approvingly, a rare thing. He patted Felix’s heated cheek, this time in praise. “Good boy.”
The two werewolves continued talking, though Felix didn’t bother to keep up with the conversation. Changbin set skewers of rabbit over the fire to roast, and the men passed a bottle of mead back and forth. Every so often Chan would press a piece of cheese or a slice of fruit to Felix’s lips, and he would eat it obediently, mechanically. He kept his gaze on the fireplace, watching flame lick blackened stone until his eyes began to ache.
Changbin left, and the sky was dark. The cottage was quiet aside from the crackling of the fire. Felix was still on his knees, waiting for direction. Chan had tidied up, and he stoked the fire, now, sending sparks flying.
Felix felt… beaten down, in more ways than one. His ass would heal soon enough. By morning, the marks would be barely visible, and the pain gone by the afternoon. But the whole thing, Chan holding him down so that a stranger could whip him with his belt… Felix didn’t think he’d ever felt so debased.
“We need to put in the last plug.”
Felix ducked his head, fingers fidgeting in his lap. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I– I’m tired.”
“No.”
“Chan,” Felix said, pleading. “Just one more night–”
“Felix,” Chan came forward, grabbing him by the chin, forcing Felix to look up, up, up at him. “You still want to argue with me? After all that?”
Felix’s eyes watered. He was just so tired, and sore, and he didn’t want to be working himself up to taking Chan’s cock in the first place. He was supposed to have gotten himself out of here by now, before this moment ever came. He desperately wished he were home, curled up in the cozy chair in Hyunjin’s library, reading late into the night. He wished he were about to do anything else right now.
And he almost wished that Chan could do it for him. That he could lie there and take it while Chan pushed his long, thick fingers inside of him. He was growing sick of this little routine.
One glance at Chan’s claws expelled the want from his mind.
“Fine,” he whispered. “Let’s make it quick.”
Chan held Felix in his arms, thumbing over the sharp point of Felix’s ear. The new plug left him too full to ignore. It felt massive inside of him. He worried that when he stood up in the morning it would simply slip out of him, too heavy to hold inside. He’d had to work his whole fist inside of himself before Chan slid the plug into place, and the stretch had still been uncomfortable.
Chan had watched him fist himself open with awe, looking as if he might drool as Felix panted and craned his hand awkwardly to get the angle right. Thinking of that expression on Chan’s face helped dull Felix’s sour mood just a bit.
He felt too hot pressed so close to the unnaturally warm wolf, but Chan wouldn’t let him wriggle away. He’d resigned himself to it by now.
“You don’t actually have to call me that,” Chan said softly against the shell of Felix’s ear. “Master. I was only teasing you.”
Felix rolled his eyes, unseen by the wolf. “Mm? Humiliating me, you mean.”
“I… wanted to see how far I could push you, I suppose.”
“I would’ve said whatever you asked, I’d just been whipped,” he huffed. “Don’t ask me to say it again in the morning. It’s not going to work when the pain’s gone.”
Chan hummed. “Interesting, that little ability.”
He wasn’t sure how much Chan knew of faeries. Many of the things said about faeries were untrue, and most faeries had no interest in clearing up any rumors that inspired a healthy dose of fear towards them. He suspected that like his own limited knowledge of werewolves, much of what Chan knew about faeries were simply stories, some of which would have been passed along for hundreds of years and could not be relied upon as fact.
“Did you know about that, before now?”
“I’d heard of it,” Chan twisted a strand of Felix’s hair around his finger idly. “But I wasn’t sure whether it was true.”
Felix wiggled enough to loosen Chan’s hold on him so that he could turn over and face him. The fire lit the room enough that he could still make out the features of Chan’s face.
“How did you get this?” He asked, tracing the pink, puckered skin of Chan’s scar with the tip of his finger. The scar began just a bit below his left ear, ran down his cheek and jaw, the long column of his neck, and curved down his chest where it ended over the right side of his ribs. One long, continuous gash.
Felix could not scar; his body’s healing ability was thorough. Chan had scars small and large. A deep one on his bicep that looked as if it had been sloppily stitched up, skin jagged and raised. A long gash up the back of his calf. Smaller ones on his hands, which were rough and calloused from working in his little farm.
“Changbin,” Chan said, expression guarded.
Felix frowned. “What? How?”
“His first full moon. He was near feral, he couldn’t help it,” he explained. He took Felix’s hand, fiddling with his fingers, almost self consciously.
“You've forgiven him, I presume.” The two seemed rather close, from what Felix saw. Chan had let the man discipline him, after all.
Chan nodded. “It’s a scary thing, to transform. Even after the first time. It doesn’t stop being scary. And it’s an indescribable pain.”
“I see,” Felix hummed softly. “Must be why we sell so much Wolfsbane.”
Another nod.
“We can still make a deal. With the Wolfsbane. Something different, this time. You set the terms.”
“I’m not letting you go, Felix.”
“I didn’t say that,” Felix said sharply, retracting his hand. “Just… let me send a letter.”
“No,” Chan said, and pulled Felix to his chest. “Enough. Sleep, now.”
—
When Felix woke up on the fourth day, he was surprised to find Chan still in bed beside him. He’d yet to wake up with the wolf still in bed the entire time he’d been here. Chan’s face was pressed into his pillow, an arm slung over his head. He poked at Chan’s shoulder, skin warm even though the house had grown chilly overnight.
Chan groaned in response, a pained sound. His hair was an unruly mess, like he’d been tossing and turning all night.
“Wolf?” Felix’s brow furrowed. “What’s the matter? You’re not dying, are you? Unlock my chain before you do.”
“Just… need a minute,” Chan said into the pillow.
“The Wolfsbane?”
Chan nodded.
“Ah. I can make a remedy to soothe your headache, if you can get some dandelion greens, a toadstool, and a worm the length of your pinky finger,” Felix counted the ingredients off on his fingers. “If you’d like.”
Chan turned his head sideways, exposing half of his face, arching a brow at Felix. “A worm?”
Felix nodded gravely. “You must swallow it whole. But it will dull the ache.”
“Fuck,” Chan groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “My head feels as if it’s being struck with a hammer.”
Felix reached out haltingly, and gently ran his hand over Chan’s hair. Chan went rigid, muscles tensing, but he relaxed after a moment. He scratched lightly at Chan’s dog ears, making the wolf shiver. “Shall I make you some tea?”
“Yes,” Chan’s voice went a little softer. “Please.”
Felix climbed out of bed, wincing from the weight of the plug, and set the kettle over the last burning embers of the fire. He stoked it with a long stick and added several more logs. It would take a bit for it to build back up.
“Chan,” he said, perching on the edge of the bed. “Let’s make a deal. I mean it. No tricks.”
“Felix,” Chan said into the pillow, tense. “Don’t start.”
“You’re in pain. Let’s just go get the Wolfsbane. All I ask is that you let me leave a note for my housemate. That is all, really.”
He was being truthful. He wouldn’t try to pull off any tricks, if Chan allowed him this one thing.
Chan turned over to lie on his back. The look he gave Felix was wary. “Someone will drop off some Wolfsbane soon. I can hold out until then.”
“Changbin?”
“No,” Chan averted his eyes. “Not Changbin.”
Felix frowned. “Well, how soon is soon?”
“Within the next few days. Could be tomorrow, even. The pain comes and goes, it isn’t so bad. I’ll be alright.”
“Fine,” he said woodenly. “Suffer, then.”
He left Chan, annoyed that his suggestion was once again dismissed, and poked at the fire some more. What was he supposed to do when Chan refused him at every turn? He wanted to at least leave Hyunjin a clue. He had faith that Hyunjin could find him without it, but it would assuredly speed up the process if he had something to work with.
When the kettle began to shriek, Felix poured the water into two mugs of tea leaves. He left them there on the table, too hot to drink just yet, and climbed back into bed, facing Chan.
“You’ve got to get out of bed if you want your tea.”
Chan pushed up from the pillow, rearranging himself so that he was parallel to Felix. “Cruel, little faerie,” he said with a wry smile, fangs only just poking out.
Felix reached out curiously, running his thumb along Chan’s bottom lip. Chan’s fangs were different from Hyunjin’s. Thicker, a little shorter, but just as sharp. Felix pressed the tip of his finger against one, pricking it, letting blood well up. Chan grabbed his wrist to hold him still, and his tongue darted out to lick up the mess. Felix smirked, reminded of Hyunjin.
He had never been in such close quarters with a werewolf, certainly not close enough to touch one’s fangs. He’d made powders from wolf’s fangs before, grinding them up to use in potions. He wondered if a werewolf’s would have similar properties.
Not that he was thinking of taking one of Chan’s, but it was an interesting idea.
Chan took a strand of Felix’s hair, twisting it around a long finger, thumbing over the soft strands. Chan had touched him plenty, but not usually with such tenderness. His touch was sharp more often than not; taking hold of his chin, swatting his ass, pinning him down. There were the rare moments, a cupping of cheeks or a pat on the head, but they were less familiar.
The thick pad of Chan’s thumb brushed across Felix’s white lashes gently, startling a little laugh out of him. Chan’s thumb went here and there, down the bridge of Felix’s nose, to the point of his ear, along the sharp line of his jaw.
Felix found that he liked Chan’s tender attention on him. Or, he did not dislike it, at least.
“I am still angry with you,” he said softly. He couldn’t make himself look Chan in the eyes as he said it. The pain of the whipping still lingered, though it was much more bearable now. The embarrassment hadn’t faded a bit. “For last night.”
Chan exhaled heavily, dropping his hand. “You can’t do whatever you like, Felix. I told you that if you behaved, things would be easy. If you cannot, then I’ll discipline you.”
“Or have your friend do it for you,” he muttered. “When he– he asked you if I’d had enough, and you said no.”
Chan’s shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I didn’t think you had.”
Felix pushed himself up so that he could glare down at Chan. “I was screaming.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t think that I’d had enough? Surely you’re not that dimwitted.”
“Enough, Felix,” Chan said sternly, brows pinching together. “We can go over last night’s lesson again if you need a reminder of how to behave. I’ve got a belt of my own.”
He would obviously get nowhere with the wolf. He had a sack of rocks in the space where his brain should be.
Felix slipped out of bed, annoyed once again. “Come drink your tea, you brute.”
Eventually, Chan drug himself from the bed and downed his tea in several long sips. Felix watched the bob of his throat over the edge of his own mug. The tea seemed to perk Chan up significantly, and his headache seemed to dissipate the longer he was out of bed. He packed some of the food they’d bought the day before into a bag and pulled a wool blanket out from beneath the bed.
The leash was clipped to the collar, and Chan led Felix back down the path to the river. He spread the blanket out along the riverbank, gesturing for Felix to lie down. He couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his face as he kicked off his boots and spread out on the blanket, but he wiped it away before Chan could see.
Chan attached the leash to a stake in the ground. Felix poked it with his toe, testing how sturdy it was. It didn’t move. “You prepared this?”
Chan nodded. “In case you wanted to come outside.”
“How sweet,” Felix said dryly, leaning back against the riverbank. “Like a dog chained up in a yard.”
“You don’t have a single dog-like attribute, you’ll be relieved to know,” Chan sat beside him, cross-legged. He reached out and ruffled Felix’s hair. “Don’t be sour. Aren’t you hungry?”
Felix propped himself up on his elbow. “What did you bring?”
Chan cut him slices of apricot and a sharp, pungent smelling cheese. There was some dried meat, which Felix ate a little of, and more of the sweetened bread. Some time in the sun seemed to put both of them in a better mood, and they conversed easily as they ate.
After a while, Felix drained the waterskin, and Chan had to walk back to the well by the house to refill it.
Felix sat upright to get a better look at the stake. It was metal, drilled deep into the ground, and when he tugged hard against the leather leash it didn’t budge.
He could admit he’d taken a passive approach to escape. His faith in Hyunjin was great enough that he didn’t feel a real need to put himself at risk when he had no magic to protect himself with. Chan, at least, would not grievously harm him, and seemed to care for him. He felt reasonably safe, for the time being.
Felix thought that he could probably outrun the wolf, if he got the chance. He was slender and fast, while Chan was big and bulky. Of course, there was the chance that Chan would force a transformation and chase after him with unnatural, animalistic speed, in which case Felix would be fucked. Injured, probably, if the wolf was not in his right mind and his only focus was on catching his prey.
As for the collar, it was nothing that a blacksmith couldn’t handle—unless Chan had bothered to have an unbreaking enchantment put on it, in which case Chan would really be the only person able to remove it. Hopefully he hadn’t thought it worth the effort.
If the chance came, he would take it. But if not, he would simply lie back and wait to be rescued. Felix felt a little less helpless if he could just think of this whole strange plight as a vacation. It was better not to risk Chan’s wrath. The wolf might not kill him, but he had no qualms about hurting Felix, that was evident.
Chan came back with the full waterskin. Felix reached for it and sucked down half of the cold, fresh water.
“Not so fast,” Chan snatched it back. “I’m not filling it again until we go back home.”
Felix shrugged, lip jutted out in a put-on pout. “I was thirsty.”
“You’re a menace,” Chan sighed, and sat beside Felix with his legs crossed.
He shifted so that his head was in Chan’s lap, looking up at the wolf. “You shouldn’t say such things. You’re a kidnapper, you know. I look like a saint next to you.”
Chan huffed out a laugh. “I’m not sure many would agree with that.”
“No, probably not,” Felix agreed. “Humans don’t trust us, even when we aren’t playing tricks. We’re not all bad, you know?”
“I know,” Chan said, stroking Felix’s hair. He looked down at Felix with something warm in his gaze.
“I’ve never played a trick on you.”
“I know,” he said again. “I would not let you.”
Felix rolled his eyes. “I would not do it. You wouldn’t know until it was already done, anyway.”
“You think me a fool?”
“Mm. Only a little,” Felix grinned. “Most humans are.”
Chan’s face inched into a frown. “I’m not a human. You know that, right?”
“Human enough,” he shrugged.
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw a transformation,” Chan grumbled. “Nothing human about it.”
For all his years of being alive, it was true that Felix had never seen a wolf transform. Now, he was somewhat curious.
“Alright, pup,” Felix relented, patting Chan’s cheek. “You’re no human.”
They lazed, and Chan stroked Felix’s hair, braiding small strands of it here and there. Felix smiled, amused that the wolf knew how to do such a thing, especially with his claws in the way. At home, Felix sometimes had the house goblin fix his hair, as he didn’t know how to do anything intricate on his own. It was almost a shame, to have such long hair, and not know what to do with it. Another thing for him to look into when he returned home.
The wolf went on, fussing with Felix’s hair, scratching his scalp gently, careful of his claws.
Felix opened his eyes, which had lazily fallen shut under Chan’s attention, and looked up at him. “You’ve never asked me to suck you off.”
Chan blinked several times, and his hands went still in Felix’s hair. “Well… I don’t trust you not to bite my cock off.”
“A reasonable fear to have, Wolf,” Felix smiled dazzlingly. “I just might.”
Chan put on that look that Felix had come to recognize meant he was thinking. Several silent moments passed before Chan lifted Felix’s head from his lap and rearranged them so that he was flat on the blanket while Chan loomed above him, pinning Felix’s wrists down against his stomach.
“What–”
Chan flipped up the hem of Felix’s shirt, exposing his cock. Felix tried to hide himself behind his thighs, but Chan pushed them aside, pinning them down beneath his own legs.
“Chan.”
“I want to see you. Hm,” he hummed, amused, running a crooked knuckle along the length of Felix’s cock. “It’s little.”
“It– it is not! Stop saying that,” Felix’s cheeks heated. He squirmed in Chan’s hold. “Wolf, let me up.”
He wasn’t afraid, but he was embarrassed. Chan was fully clothed, pinning him in place, and Felix was half naked, exposed for anyone to see, should they walk past on the trail. The area did seem fairly secluded, but there were at least two other trails nearby aside from the one that led from Chan’s house.
“It’s tiny. I could swallow you whole.”
Felix twitched, his traitorous cock swelling in interest. He swallowed heavily, throat clicking. “Wolf. Do not–”
Chan leaned forward and brought the tip into his mouth. Felix gasped, hips jutting forward of their own volition, pushing him deeper into Chan’s mouth. It was warm, silky heat enveloping him. Chan hummed, making Felix shiver. His cock was quick to come to attention.
He was being careful of his fangs, but Felix was still on edge. It was a precarious position.
Chan could hold Felix’s entire length easily. Felix could only gape, watching the wolf take him. His eyes were closed in focus, coming up to tongue at Felix’s slit, then sliding back down to take all of him in again.
Felix could not hold back his moan when he came—embarrassingly quickly, back arching, head going fuzzy. His chest heaved and it took several moments before he could open his eyes. Chan was grinning down at him. He had expected Chan to spit the mess out, to be angry that Felix had even come in his mouth in the first place. He realized belatedly that Chan had swallowed it. He had swallowed it, and looked unreasonably happy about it.
“Fuck, Wolf, what the hell was that?” Felix groaned. Chan let go of him, freeing his legs, and Felix kicked at him weakly. “You’re a fucking bastard.”
“You put the thought into my head, little faerie,” he said pleasantly. “I’d heard before that faeries taste sweet. I’m surprised that it’s true.”
“Chan!” Felix flushed, uncharacteristically shy. He looked pointedly away. “Please be quiet. Don’t speak anymore. I would spell you quiet if I could.”
Chan laughed, and crawled forward until he was above Felix, taking him by the chin and forcing Felix to look at him. His other hand went to the base of the plug, pressing a knuckle against the stone, eliciting a gasp from Felix. “Tonight. You’re ready now.”
No.
No, it could not be tonight. He had to hold Chan off until Hyunjin came for him.
Felix scrambled out from beneath Chan, as far away as the leash would allow him to go. “No! N-No, I’m not ready yet. Wolf, it cannot be tonight.”
“Yes,” Chan said. He didn’t try to close the distance between them. “You’re plenty stretched. It will be alright.”
Felix’s heart pounded in his chest. It was not a repulsive idea. He found Chan quite attractive, admittedly, and he’d become somewhat fond of him. It was not so much the size that scared him as it was… just submitting to Chan. Letting Chan have him, letting him win. Giving himself up to the wolf.
He could imagine another situation, in which he met Chan normally. Where he was initially reserved, and regarded Chan with the same contempt he held for all other werewolves, until his attraction to him won out and he gave the man a chance. Eventually, he could imagine he’d be okay with being fucked by the wolf, if it were all up to him. If he’d been given the choice.
But… not like this. Not when there was a collar locked around his neck that blocked his magic. Not when he was more vulnerable than he’d ever been in his life.
“Chan, please. Just wait one more night. Please.”
The longer he could postpone it, the more time he gave Hyunjin to arrive. He could already be back on the island by now, searching for Felix. If he could just hold the wolf off long enough…
“Will you keep this up?” Chan came forward now, and cupped Felix’s cheek. “You’re wasting your breath, little faerie.”
“Chan,” he tried once more, barely a whisper. He took Chan’s wrist, pleading, “One more night. Just one.”
“I’m tired of waiting. Be grateful that I’ve held off this long.”
And then he was tugging Felix up by the leash and back down the path towards the house.
Felix couldn’t stop trembling.
Alright, perhaps he was a little afraid of the size. It was still a mystery to him, after all, just how big Chan was. He felt Chan’s length pressed against him some nights, when Chan held him close, and could make a guess, but he’d never actually seen it.
He already felt too stretched, uncomfortably open whenever the plug was removed. His hole gaped. Felix was glad that he could not see it. It may still be painful, but Chan would not tear him open, at least. He felt sure of that. Wolf cocks could not be that large.
Chan hadn’t switched out the leash for the chain, instead just knotting the leash around the post of the bed and leaving Felix to lie in the middle of it. He hadn’t left much slack, so that Felix couldn’t even sit upright, much less dart from the bed. He was stuck where he lay, shaking in place, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Felix.”
While Felix had been lost in thought, Chan had undressed. He settled between Felix’s legs, nudging them open.
Felix’s jaw dropped at the sight of Chan’s cock. It was even wider around than the last plug, which was still nestled inside of him, and so long. Longer than any of the plugs had been—they only ever increased in width. It looked ridiculous between his legs, big even for Chan’s considerable height and build, big even with his bulky thighs framing it. Felix would have to use both hands to wrap around the entire width of it. He briefly wondered if he could even fit it in his mouth.
He was actually going to be impaled on Chan’s cock.
Felix’s legs snapped shut. He gulped. “No. It’s too big.”
Chan gently, firmly, pried his legs back open, pushing them back towards his chest. He did it easily even though Felix used all his strength to try and keep them closed. “I’ll go slow. You’ll be alright,” he soothed, rubbing circles against the soft skin of Felix’s thighs. “It isn’t much bigger than the plug. You can do it, Felix.”
Felix shook his head frantically. “I can’t. No, Chan, it isn’t going to fit–”
“Felix, it will fit. Calm yourself. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Chan,” Felix’s eyes grew watery. “I don’t know…”
“Take out the plug,” Chan instructed in a low, soothing tone. “We’ll go slow.”
Felix let out a long breath, and reached down between his legs. It took a little bit of maneuvering to work the thing out of him. When it was out, he held it up, marveling that he had fit that inside himself. It was not too much bigger than Chan, in truth, but the extra width still seemed like a lot.
Chan scooted closer on his knees, and Felix once again tried to close his legs in a panic. “Calm down,” Chan stopped them from snapping shut. “I’m not just going to shove it in.”
“What now?” Felix looked to Chan with wide, wet eyes.
“More oil.”
He handed over the vial, and Felix applied it with trembling hands to his own hole, and then to Chan's cock at his instruction.
“I will go slow,” Chan said, lining himself up against Felix’s hole. Felix twitched at the contact, but Chan didn’t enter. “If it hurts, tell me, and I will give you a moment.”
Felix nodded warily.
Hyunjin’s face flashed in his mind. He did not reserve himself for Hyunjin alone, but there had not been anyone else meaningful in a very long time. This felt… if not meaningful, then weighted. Heavy. Like it was going to change him whether he wanted it to or not.
Chan slowly pushed the tip in. It was barely anything, and yet it felt quite substantial inside of him. Chan stopped there, giving him a moment to adjust. There was a stretch, painful but not ruinous. He grabbed Chan’s hand and held it tightly. Chan stroked the back of his hand.
“Ready?”
Felix took a deep breath, and nodded.
He watched open-mouthed as Chan’s length slipped inside of him, ever so slowly. Chan looked to be exerting a large amount of self control to not simply ram himself inside in one go. Every so often he instructed Felix to take a breath, and he pushed inside a little further. Felix thought they would never reach the base. He was not sure that it would even fit all the way inside, it was so long. He already felt full, uncomfortably so.
He gasped aloud when Chan pressed against his prostate, pleasure shooting up his spine. The feeling did not subside, only growing until Felix was letting out soft little huffs of pleasure-pain, unable to differentiate one sensation from the other.
Finally, finally, Chan’s hips pressed against Felix’s ass, planted all the way inside. Felix was breathing heavily, fingers scrabbling against Chan’s biceps, nearly gone dumb. Then Chan pulled out. Out, and out, until once again only the tip was inside. And then he rammed himself forward, skin connecting with skin in a loud clash.
Felix made a noise that he had never heard come from his mouth before, and he clawed at Chan’s skin desperately. Chan repeated the motion again, and again, teeth bared, forehead creased in focus, a growl working it’s way up his throat.
This entire time, even chained up, even without his magic, Felix had thought himself more powerful than Chan. Even when Chan had every advantage, Felix couldn’t think of himself as beneath him.
Now–
Now, things had changed.
He’d always thought of himself as indestructible. He realized very suddenly that he was not. Chan looked at him as if he would devour him. He thrust into Felix harshly, and he could only take it.
“Mine,” it was more of a growl than an actual word, nearly unintelligible. He pressed his face into the juncture of Felix’s neck, nipping at the sensitive skin until Felix squealed. “You’re mine, little faerie.”
“Chan–”
“You understand?” Chan’s hand came up to Felix’s neck, above the collar, pressing hard enough to make Felix’s breath catch.
“Yes! Yes, I–”
Chan sunk his teeth into the place between Felix’s neck and shoulder, just out of the way of the collar, breaking the skin. Felix screamed, clawing at Chan’s back, tears flooding his eyes so that he could hardly see past them.
Chan’s teeth sunk in deeper, tearing at the skin, leaving sharp, painful indentations in Felix’s tender skin. Still he went on fucking him with pounding force. Felix felt faint from the pain, from the pleasure, his head buzzing. His fingers twitched against Chan’s back. He could do nothing but chant the wolf’s name, a plea.
Everything hurt, but Chan was so big that his prostate was constantly stimulated. His pained sounds morphed into pleasured moans, and quickly reverted when Chan’s claws sunk into his hips, grasping him in a bruising hold, readjusting him to get a better angle.
There was Chan, all over him, caging him in. Chan’s hands on him, Chan’s obscene length inside of him, so much so that Felix could see him in his belly. He looked down at where Chan’s tip made a bulge in his stomach and let out a strangled cry. Chan inhaled the sound, and then he was there, too, having left the bite in favor of Felix’s lips, fangs pricking the thin skin. The copper tang of blood filled his mouth.
Felix let out a pitiful moan as he came, barely audible with Chan’s mouth on his, body shaking with the strength of his orgasm. He felt like he was falling apart in Chan’s hold, trembling and crying, mind gone hazy, barely there at all. He could do nothing but simply take whatever Chan gave him.
Chan’s hips pummeled into him even faster. He returned to the bite, nipping at the wound. Felix shrieked unintelligibly, tears flowing freely down his face. Chan buried himself deeply inside of him and came with a guttural moan.
After a while, he pulled away from the bite and retracted his claws. He was breathing heavily, chest pumping, sweat making its way down his torso. He looked a little far away from himself, too—a little more animal than human.
His hand came up to Felix’s face, which was snotty and wet and twisted up in pain. He ran his thumb tenderly along Felix’s flushed face, which Felix found felt very nice. He leaned into Chan’s touch. “You’re alright?”
He was not quite sure. His brain seemed to be working at half-speed, thoughts coming slow and heavy, as if through a thick fog. His head itself felt weighed down, like it was too heavy for his neck to lift. He mumbled something, which seemed to reassure Chan a little, for he pulled out.
He replaced his cock with the stone plug, trapping his come inside. It felt a little loose after the thorough fucking. He didn’t try to move, as it sent a shot of pain up his spine. His pelvis ached and his skin tingled all over, but especially near the bite, a sharp and entirely unpleasant pain, like venom. There were divots dotted along his hips from Chan’s claws, blood dripping from the holes.
It hurt. Everything hurt.
He remembered his magic, and reached out for it tentatively. He could– he could soothe the ache, if he could just access his magic. It would be a simple spell, and wouldn’t expel too much energy. He fumbled around his brain and came up empty-handed.
Right. The collar.
Felix lifted a quivering hand to the metal around his throat, tugging against the leash. He pulled harder when it didn’t budge, metal clasp clinking against the hook it threaded through.
“Felix,” Chan grabbed his wrist, peeling his fingers from the leather. “Stop that.”
“It’s– my head. It feels strange,” Felix’s words came out slightly slurred. Chan pet his hair from his face, and only then did Felix realize that his skin was sticky with sweat.
“You just need to rest.”
“I want it off,” he reached for the collar again, but Chan pulled his hand away. “Take it off.”
“No, baby. It has to stay on,” Chan said softly. He kept on petting Felix’s hair. Felix looked up at him to see that his face was pinched in worry.
“It hurts, Chan. I need the… the spell–”
“No. You need to sleep,” Chan cupped his heated cheek tenderly. “Sleep, and you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
Chan stood up then, and Felix reached out for him weakly. He wanted to tell him not to go, not to leave him alone, but Chan was out the door before the words made it past his lips. He returned with a pail of water and a cloth, and wiped Felix clean. Starting with his face, gingerly cleaning the wound on his shoulder, and working down to the slick mess between his legs as best he could with the plug in the way. Felix let his eyes fall shut as Chan worked; he didn’t have the energy to keep them open.
His entire body felt heavy and weak. Chan turned him onto his side and untied the leash from the bed. He didn’t replace it with the chain, only tossed the leash aside. It was just as well. Felix wasn’t going anywhere in this state.
Chan laid beside him and pulled him close. He mouthed at Felix’s shoulder, pressing tender kisses there. “Are you asleep yet?”
Felix grunted. His head only seemed to be getting fuzzier.
“Go to sleep, Felix. It will be better in the morning.”
The sky had only just gone dark. It was much earlier than they usually went to bed, but Felix felt as if he could sleep for several days. Chan hummed, a song that Felix wasn’t familiar with, and he fell asleep between one moment and the next.
—
Felix woke to a bothersome throbbing in his temples. He brought his hand to his head and groaned. At the very least, the fog had dissipated. Simply thinking did not feel like wading through waist-high mud, anymore.
When he blinked his eyes open, he could tell that it was later than he usually woke due to how the light filled the room. It would be near noon by now. He didn’t feel well-rested, despite the long sleep.
“You’re awake.”
Chan sat at the table with a mug of tea. The earthy scent of it filled the small room.
“How do you feel?”
Felix pushed himself upright with a wince. The chain was back in place, following him as he sat up. His shoulder hurt terribly, the muscle tender and sore. He brought his hand up to the wound, feeling it out with the lightest touch. It was still wet, skin puffy and swollen. When he retracted his hand the tips of his fingers were smeared with blood.
He had never had a wound stay open so long, even ones much worse than this. Never in his life had he woken up to a wound practically unchanged. The holes on his hips from where Chan’s claws had dug into his skin were gone, without so much as a hint of redness where they had been.
“Chan,” he said dazedly, staring down at his bloodied fingers. “It isn’t healing.”
Chan watched him, the panic growing in Felix’s eyes. He crossed the room to pet Felix’s head, tucking a lock of white hair behind his ear. “It will. It just needs time.”
“Why…?”
“I’ll bandage it for you.”
“But why?” Felix looked up at him with eyes gone wide and desperate. The sense of dread that grew in his stomach was so intense that he thought he might be sick.
“It’s a mating bite, Felix.”
“…What?” He blinked, and shook his head as if to clear it from confusion. “No. But I…”
I’m not a werewolf.
But did that even mean anything? He had heard of werewolves mating, but he assumed that they could only mate with another of their own kind. What the fuck did a mating bite even entail? He didn’t have a clue what it meant to be mated, aside from the obvious.
It would tether him to Chan.
“Chan,” he mumbled, “I don’t understand.”
Chan thumbed at the tender, inflamed skin around the bite. “It’s a marriage, of sorts.”
“No,” it came out more of a question than a statement. “No, that’s not– Chan, what did you do?”
Chan took him by the chin. His gaze was not especially warm. “Do you remember what I said last night?” His thumb grazed along Felix’s bottom lip. Felix shook his head dumbly.
“You’re mine.”
“No,” Felix pushed him away weakly. “No, I’m not.”
“You are now,” Chan set his jaw. “You carry my mark.”
“It– it will scar?”
Chan nodded.
Felix didn’t have a single scar on his body. Even his worst injuries hadn’t left a mark. When he’d fallen from the top of a very tall tree while gathering supplies with Hyunjin, and he’d had to lie very, very still for many painful hours as his bones reset themselves and his skin stitched itself back together. His skull had cracked, a puddle of blood surrounding his head like a halo, staining his white hair red, and the pain was almost unbearable. Even with the healing potion, it had taken a long time for all of his wounds to fully heal. He was limping for days afterwards, even when all of the surface wounds had closed up.
If he were a human the fall surely would’ve killed him. There wasn’t a single reminder of that day on his body.
There were no marks from Hyunjin’s fangs, from the many times he’d offered himself up to be drunk from, all along the thin skin of his wrists, the long line of his neck. No burns from brewing mishaps. There was nothing.
Nothing, except for Chan’s bite.
Chan would rot beneath the earth, and Felix would forget about him.
How could he, now? He’d been forever marked by the man. Every time he looked in the mirror, he would be reminded of him. The only scar his body would allow.
He’d kept somewhat of a handle over himself this entire time. When he’d lost his magic, when he’d been made to open himself for Chan, when Chan had shoved himself inside of Felix and wrapped a hand around his throat. He had not fallen apart. Now he felt as if he was losing his grip. He needed to go, to be away from the wolf.
He stood as if to leave, but stopped short when the chain clanked against his calf.
“Go,” he said to Chan, voice wavering.
“Felix.”
“Go,” he jabbed a finger in the direction of the door. “Get out. I need a moment alone.”
Chan watched him for a moment, Felix’s hands shook, eyes downcast. For a second, Felix thought Chan was going to pull him into an embrace, attempt to comfort him. But he passed by and left silently, door creaking shut behind him.
Felix paced around the room, the stupid fucking chain following him. He took slow, deep breaths, but the breakdown came nonetheless. He fell to the floor, knees meeting the hard stone, and wept into his hands.
When Chan returned, he came back quietly. He knelt beside Felix on the floor, placing a hand on his shaking shoulder. Felix’s tears had run out, leaving his cheeks ruddy and eyes swollen, but he crumpled inward just a little more.
Even while Felix disliked the touch, some part of him wanted to lean into it. Something in him was delighted by it, though he couldn’t find the source of it.
Chan spoke softly. “Let me bandage the wound.”
Felix wanted to lash out. To shake Chan’s hand off of him and slap him across the face for even saying that. And then a wave of numbness drowned the desire out.
Instead, he just nodded. There was no point.
Chan washed away the blood and wrapped a strip of worn fabric around the bite, awkward given the placement of it. It wound around his chest, beneath his arm, and knotted in place at the back. Chan helped him slip a new shirt over his head, gingerly guiding his arms through the holes.
“It will be alright,” he soothed, stroking Felix’s cheek. “I’ll take care of you.”
Felix slumped forward to lean against Chan’s chest, eyes slipping shut. “I don’t need you to. You would not have to, if you had just let me go.”
“I want to.”
“Did you spare a thought for what I want?” What should’ve sounded venomous only came out flat. He couldn’t muster up any anger, as drained as he was.
“You will be happy, in time.” Chan said it like it was a guarantee. Like a thing he knew for sure and certain. Felix could not imagine himself as a permanent fixture in Chan’s life. He could not imagine leaving everything behind, and starting anew here. Being a thing rather than a person of his own. Chan’s pet faerie. He certainly could not imagine himself being happy.
“I wish I could hate you,” he said. “For some strange reason, I cannot.”
If he couldn’t muster up true hatred before, then he should be able to by now. After he’d been marked as an owned thing along with having his magic stolen away. The terrible combination of the collar and the bite should be more than enough to have Felix enraged. But there was nothing there. He only felt terribly numb, and beneath that, sad. No anger to be found.
Chan’s chest jumped with a small laugh. “The bite, perhaps.”
“Oh,” Felix frowned. “I see.”
If the thing was already altering his emotions, then what hope did he have? Already, he felt far away from himself. Though, maybe that was only the shock of it all. Maybe it was not so serious.
But it felt serious. Felix felt changed, in a way he couldn’t quite understand.
As much as he couldn’t imagine staying, he could not imagine returning home with a wolf’s bite on him, either. He could not imagine slotting himself back into his circle of faerie friends. He would be teased relentlessly, if not ostracized entirely.
How could he let this happen? He should have tried harder to get away, because how could he go back to his life now? Everything was ruined.
Felix jumped at an unfamiliar sensation in his brain, bolting upright and bringing a hand to his head. It was… warmth. A comforting feeling. Compassion, but it came in a quick flash as if injected straight into his mind. It was not his own; he could feel that it was foreign.
Chan watched him intently.
“What the fuck was that?” Felix asked. “There was this– I don’t know, this strange feeling.”
“The bite,” Chan said. “I could feel that you were upset.”
“You could feel that I was upset…?”
Chan nodded.
“And so you put that feeling into my head?”
Another nod.
Felix rubbed his head furiously, groaning. “Don’t– don’t fucking do that, that’s so…”
Invasive. Bizarre. Unwanted.
Chan could feel that he was upset. Chan could tell what he was feeling. Chan could send him feelings, in return. What the fuck.
“Stop this. I don’t want this,” Felix pleaded, breath coming quick. He had a tight grip on his hair, and Chan eased his hands away from his head. “Chan, this is too much. Take it away. I can’t– do this, I can’t do this–”
“Hush. Everything’s alright.”
And then that feeling came again, more forcefully this time, practically knocking him over the head. He fell against Chan, his brain stewing in a mixture of distress and forced-contentment. He wanted to weep and laugh at the same time, and some horrific sound bubbled up from his throat as a result.
Chan pulled Felix into his lap, rubbing his back in a soothing little rhythm. “You’re alright, Felix. I’ve got you.”
“No,” Felix croaked out. He beat his fist against Chan’s chest weakly. “You’ve ruined everything.”
“It’s okay if you’re sad right now,” Chan pressed a kiss to his temple. “It will get easier. I’ll help you.”
Felix shook his head, and couldn’t stop shaking it.
Later, Chan took him back to the river, despite Felix telling him that he didn’t feel like going anywhere. He was just so tired, and he still hadn’t quite grasped the situation yet. But Chan had hefted Felix onto his back and carried him down to the river, Felix holding tight to the wolf. The blanket was still there from the day before, and Chan swept aside a few fallen leaves and laid them down with Felix atop his chest.
Chan gave him a quick rundown of what a mating bite entailed. He was attuned to Felix’s emotions, and could send him feelings in return, as he’d done earlier. That was mostly for the purpose of calming an upset mate, he’d said. He explained it as a string tying their minds together, only it was one-way, as Felix didn’t have access to Chan’s emotions since he couldn’t mate him in return.
“Feel free to give it a go,” Chan offered. “But I don’t think it will work.”
Chan explained that Felix may become emotionally distressed if he and Chan were apart for too long. The bite would compel him to be near Chan as much as possible. If they were to spend days or even weeks apart, it would begin to affect him physically, too. He would become ill. Chan couldn’t be sure what other effects it would have, as he’d never heard of a faerie being mated before.
It’s a marriage, of sorts, he had said. It sounded much, much worse than a marriage to Felix. It sounded like the end of his life as he knew it.
“Did you know what you were doing?” Felix asked woodenly. “Did you know what would happen?”
“I was not sure that it would work. But mating you was my intention.”
“...Why?”
Chan stroked Felix’s hair, twirling a strand of it around his finger. “I needed you to be mine.”
“I am here. Chained to the floor, or on your leash. Was I not already yours?” Felix couldn’t seem to force any bite into his words. They only came out flat.
“It wasn’t enough.”
Felix felt himself deflate, limbs going limp, his full weight resting against Chan. He groaned against a wave of dread. It was hopeless. He was stuck here for who knew how long. He might waste decades of his life here, being some brooding werewolf’s pet. He would have to give up his home, and his work, and Hyunjin.
Because even if Hyunjin found him, what then? He could not be apart from the wolf. It was not as if Chan would agree to move into the manor—if Hyunjin would even allow that, which Felix was not sure of.
If Chan were killed, then maybe–
The thought distressed him so much that he gasped aloud, clutching tight to the wolf. He suddenly felt as if he’d be sick, thinking of Chan dying prematurely. It was so wrong, that Felix should be without him. That was unsettling in itself, because where had that feeling come from? It did not feel like it belonged to him.
“What?” Chan pulled Felix up to look into his eyes. “Felix, what is it?”
Tears came to his eyes unbidden. He forced the thought from his mind, and immediately felt calmer. “Nothing,” he shook his head. “I’m alright.”
Chan wiped away the tears as they fell. He was frowning deeply, and Felix remembered that Chan would feel an impression of whatever he was feeling. He thumbed over the pinch of Chan’s brow, smoothing the worry away.
“I’m okay,” the words had to be true, if he could speak them. “Don’t worry.”
Chan pulled him close again and nosed at the crook of Felix’s neck, sniffing lightly, the gesture rather like a dog’s. “I want to soothe you. I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
“Do not… mess with my head,” Felix frowned. “I don’t like that.”
“It feels instinctual. That if you’re hurting, I should make you feel better.”
“It just feels unnatural, to me. Like you’re poking around inside my head.”
“Mm. It’s not as if I can hear your thoughts.”
That was a great mercy. He was not sure if he could continue living, if the wolf knew his every thought, if he never had a moment of privacy. It was bad enough as it was.
It should disturb him that he found Chan’s company so soothing, that lying atop him made Felix feel at ease, but it did not. It could not. He was upset about it, distantly, but he was so far away from himself.
It was all very confusing.
“Fuck, Felix, just what are you thinking? I can feel you spiraling,” Chan frowned, petting Felix’s hair. “Don’t worry so much.”
“I cannot help it,” he rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “It’s a lot, all at once.”
“Come,” Chan said, standing them up. He carefully removed Felix’s bandage. The wound had not improved much. “Let’s wash.”
The water was freezing, but Chan stood with him patiently as he slowly acclimated himself to the cold. Chan washed his hair with a lump of the faintly scented soap, careful not to tangle the long locks. The cold water soothed the bite, which tingled and felt heated like a burn.
Chan cleaned the both of them off, with Felix helping very little. In fairness, his arm was rather useless at the moment.
On the riverbank, Felix wrung his hair dry and spread out on the blanket. Chan followed him without bothering to dress. He spread Felix’s legs apart, nudging the plug, and looked Felix up and down hungrily.
“Again,” he said.
Felix couldn’t deny him. Curiously, he didn’t want to. He nodded, and pulled the plug out.
When they returned home, Chan insisted that Felix eat something, even though he still felt strange and didn’t really feel up to eating. Faeries could go quite a long time without food, he told Chan, but the wolf set a plate of food before him anyways.
Felix nibbled at it, shifting in place on the wooden chair. It was not comfortable, having just been fucked, though he had not been left in as bad shape as he had the night before. Chan had been gentler, slower, though the sheer size of him had still been overwhelming. Chan kissed gently around the bite on Felix’s shoulder, keeping far away enough to not hurt him further. Felix had come quickly, and then once more by the time Chan finished. They had to jump back into the river to clean themselves once again, afterwards.
Chan ate greedily, as if he’d been starved. He had used up a lot of energy, Felix supposed.
“I’ll bandage your wound again in a moment.”
Felix hummed, unconcerned. “Haven’t you got work to do?” He asked over the rim of his mug. “You’ve done nothing for the past two days.”
“I will catch up.”
“And your head? Does it still hurt?”
“Only a little,” Chan grinned at him. “I’m alright.”
“The Wolfsbane–”
“I’m beginning to think that we should ban that word.”
“How long will you wait?” Felix frowned. “The full moon is nearly here. I’d prefer not to be torn to shreds when you transform into a wolf beside me in bed,” he glanced down at Chan’s claws, remembering how easily they’d broken his skin.
“I would not stay here, if I did not have any Wolfsbane before the full moon. I’d get away from you.”
“We cannot be apart for long, remember?” Felix grimaced. “You’ve made sure of that.”
Chan sighed. “I will borrow some from Changbin, if it comes to that. Do not worry.”
Felix relented with a nod. There was nothing he could do. There was no deal to be made, now.
Suddenly, the front door slammed open without so much as a knock. And there was Hyunjin, standing on the threshold.
Felix blinked rapidly, mouth agape. He came. He actually came, as Felix knew that he would, even without the damned stone, even without Felix leaving him a clue. He was here to save Felix, to bring him back to the manor, to help him solve this whole mating issue. Hyunjin would know what to do, as he always did.
Felix leapt from the chair, grinning madly, before suddenly stopping in his tracks.
Hyunjin had a large bag slung over one shoulder, the flap of which was folded over to expose what it contained. Vials full of a midnight blue liquid flecked with gold. Wolfsbane.
A horrible realization dawned on Felix, and the elation slipped from his face to be replaced by betrayal. He felt his blood run cold.
Hyunjin wasn’t here to help him.
“Oh, good,” Hyunjin said to Chan, tossing him a vial of the potion. Chan caught it deftly. Hyunjin grinned devilishly at Felix. “You caught the faerie.”