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At the age of 24, Bang Chan was the youngest person to enter the city council. Ever since he started participating in activism and politics at the age of 13, people spoke of a bright future for the ambitious young man. Now, at the age of 50, Chan has been on the political stage for 25 years, an impressive feat for anyone in his profession.
Of course, his political career has had its ups and downs, with Chan even having been forced to take a step back from the scene for half a year after his party dealt with a corruption scandal. But other than that, he has been a public face for more than half of his life, and for now, he has no plans of stepping down.
Chan is ambitious.
He’ll do whatever it takes to get to the top.
But most of all, he always gets what he wants.
“Sooyeong, cancel the meeting with Director Kim. I am going out for dinner with my family.”
Sooyeong, his assistant for the last five years, folds her hands neatly over her stomach and bows. “Sir, if I may,” she starts. This is not unlike her. To question his decisions, that is. “Speak your mind,” Chan groans and rubs his nose bridge. “The meeting with Director Kim is highly important if you wish to remain to be seen in a positive light.”
“And what do you mean by that…”
“Well, Sir. It is Director Kim and his entourage who are currently digging up your old files in the Gwangjong building. Meeting him might prevent information from leak-”
“He won’t find anything,” Chan says sternly. He places his hands on his desk and connects them. “Those files are long gone. Joo Un and Min Ah made sure of it. Did they not?” Sooyeong meets his gaze with ease, and she nods firmly. “They did, Sir.” She bows once more, this time far lower than her initial one. “I must apologize, Sir. I will simply reschedule the meeting for next week. Your family is far more important than some director who wishes to bend your will.”
And this. This is why Chan has kept Sooyeong for all these years. “Indeed. Make a reservation at Anju for Wednesday. I know Director Kim is fond of traditional food and a few bottles of soju.” While he doesn’t hear her laugh, Chan knows it threatens to spill past her lips.
Sooyeong gets up to a straight position with ease, her long black hair falling gently onto her shoulder. She’s as gorgeous as the day he first laid eyes upon her. Though it’s not her looks that has him keeping her close. “What’s the occasion?”
“What?”
He forces himself to look away from her slender frame and back onto her face, his hands now falling into a far more relaxed position. “Why are you going out for dinner with your family? It has been a while since you last saw your wife, hasn’t it?”
The mere mention of the woman he married two decades ago has his blood boiling. A marriage of convenience it was called - one that was formed to ensure his position in the party. For who could say no to marrying one the daughters of Korea’s most prominent companies? Though Chan has always been of the belief that their marriage was only useful for a couple of years, everything after that was acquired through his own skills and connections.
“My son has signed a deal with a modeling company in Los Angeles. He will be moving abroad in a few months.”
Sooyeong’s face lights up, and she procures a smile that is so stunning Chan can’t help but mimic it. “Oh, what wonderful news, Sir! Your son will soon be on every billboard the eye can see!” Her enthusiasm isn’t hers alone, even Chan feels pride filling his chest when he thinks about how Felix has managed to secure his spot in the fashion scene. It has taken a lot of work and effort to get there, but Chan has never once doubted him. After all, Felix is also a Bang, and the Bang’s are known for their neverending ambition.
“It is indeed an exciting prospect,” Chan smiles warmly. He picks up a stack of papers and pushes on the edges until they are even with each other. “These are due for maculation,” he says and hands them over to his assistant. Sooyeong accepts the stack with both of her hands while she nods firmly.
“I will make sure of it,” she answers and bows one last time before she turns on her heels and walks toward the door.
“Oh, Sooyeong,” Chan says just as her hand grabs onto the door handle. “Yes, sir?”
“What do you think of blonde?”
She hums before she shrugs her shoulders. “I find it to be a pretty color. Not everyone can pull it off though.” Chan watches as her long, dark hair sways when she opens the door and steps out.
With his assistant gone, Chan is left to his own devices. However, losing himself to work is an easy feat, and by the time his driver signals his arrival, Chan has already gone through a stack of documents due for the purchase of several occupied buildings that are all lined up for demolition if he gets what he wants.
Chan tidies up his desk and grabs onto his belongings before making his way out of the office building. He nods to Sooyeong before striding past the rest of his employees. A suit clad man steps up to him as he walks up to the door. “Your coat, Sir.” His knee-length coat is draped over his shoulders with the help of the employee, and Chan makes sure to leave him with a few bills more than usual.
“Sir,” his driver bows. “Minhyuk,” Chan greets back, offering his driver of 10 years a genuine smile. The door to his black car is opened with ease, and Chan steps in, allowing Minhyuk to close it for him. When his driver has made it into the car, Chan leans back and lets out a sigh. “Drive me back home. I have made a deal with Felix that we will go to the restaurant together.”
“Yes, Sir. Would you like privacy?”
“No, keep it like this.”
Minhyuk nods and presses the car’s start button. The divider between the two stays up, and Chan has the possibility to fully look out of the front window. Driving from the office to his house only takes about fifteen minutes depending on traffic, so Chan doesn’t bother with pulling out the documents he brought with him in his brown leather briefcase.
Only halfway into the ride, his phone buzzes. “Of fucking course,” he groans and stares at his screen. Lit up in bright white letters, the incoming call reads, “Sekyung.” It’s not hesitation per se, but his thumb hovers over the green button for almost too long - something within him probably hoped his wife would hang up before he got the chance to answer her.
Alas, he doesn’t let the phone call end, and so when he hears her grating voice, he signals for Minhyuk to roll up the privacy screen. “Chan,” she drawls. “Did you hear?” There’s never any need for pleasantries with that woman, she’s always straight to the point with what she wishes to speak about. “Our son is going to be a model!
Her voice is slow and slurred. “I did know that, Sekyung. He signed the deal last week.” A dramatic gasp comes from the other end of the phone, one so loud and annoying that Chan groans again. “Oh my! I am so proud of my little baby. Tell me, Chan. Shouldn’t we go and celebrate him? I know a place with fabulous Espresso Martinis! I am having one now, actually,” she giggles more than she speaks, and with every uttered syllable, Chan feels his insides churn in annoyance.
“We are going to celebrate this, Sekyung. In fact, we are expected to be at the restaurant in one hour.”
“Today?” she squawks; even from the other end of the phone, he can hear how she dramatically flails on whatever surface she has decided to be her resting place in her drunken stupor. “Yes, today.” Once more, she lets out a slew of dramatic gasps. No matter how many times they have this exact conversation, Chan never gets used to it - he feels as angry as he did the first time it happened.
“But I have plans in an hour,” she slurs. “Gikwang says it will snow tonight. Inside of my apartment, can you imagine?”
Chan digs his nails into his thigh and bites down onto his tongue. “You will not be with our son in that state,” he growls. “And did I not tell you to cut contact with that rodent?” There’s buzzing and crackling from the other side, and suddenly, Chan hears several voices enter whatever room she is in. “Oh, don’t worry, Baby,” she slurs once more. “Snow is fun. Don’t you have fun, Chan? No, you don’t… swallowed by all of your fucking controver-”
“Don’t you fucking dare you wh-”
The line is cut the moment Sekyung’s voice grows whiny, and another man’s voice mutters a quiet goodbye. In a fit of rage, Chan throws his phone at the privacy screen. On the other side, Minhyuk attempts to look at him through the mirror. Even though Chan knows the other man can’t see him, the comfort of knowing that there is at least one person who worries is enough.
Minhyuk pulls up to their house. He steps out and walks over to Chan’s side, opening up the car door for him with practiced ease. “I will remain here, Sir.” Minhyuk bows his head as Chan walks past. It’s politer than normal, but he suspects it has something to do with Minhyuk understanding his situation.
Minhyuk always understands.
Minhyuk doesn’t ask questions.
Chan walks up the staircase to his house. It’s not really a house anymore. It hasn’t been since they last moved a decade ago. Felix was only ten at the time and spent most of his life in the large modern box Chan wanted him to call home.
Despite his hesitancy toward the building, Chan has to admit that when he walks past those doors and hears the gentle hum of music playing from the second floor, a rush of comfort fills him.
“Felix!” he calls, dropping his briefcase onto the ground. He doesn’t care about his shoes, so when he walks up their pristine staircase, he knows their cleaner will rip out her hair in annoyance. “Felix!” he calls once more as he reaches the top. Quickly, he turns to the left, following the loudening music.
The door to his son’s bedroom is open, and even from the end of the hallway, Chan can smell the perfume Felix has chosen for today. Now that Felix has gotten older, he no longer spends every day back home. Chan tries not to mind, but if he truly allows himself to be honest, he wishes Felix would move back in properly.
“Hey, Dad,” Felix smiles as Chan stops and leans against the door frame. “Am I late? I swear you told me we were supposed to be ready at-”
“No,” Chan interrupts. He walks in and sits down on Felix’s messy bed. “I was just excited to see you, I guess.” This earns him a wide grin from his son. Immediately upon receiving it, Chan feels his heart melt.
“Are you just going to sit there and look at me getting ready?” Felix asks, now back to what he was doing before Chan interrupted. “Can’t a father chill with his son?” Chan laughs and pretends to act young by pouting and throwing his arms up. His attempt might be poor; it might even be embarrassing, but Felix still rolls his eyes and laughs. “Sure, old man. I’m soon done anyway.”
Watching Felix get ready is a treat. He sees how his son carefully paints his nails with a clear polish. It’s nothing fancy, but it gives them an extra sheen, something which Chan wonders if he should have his nails painted prior to interviews.
“Your hair has gotten long,” Chan murmurs before he briefly reaches out and feels the soft hair between his fingertips. “They say having long hair gives me an advantage.”
“They?”
“The modeling agency.”
Chan can already picture it - his son, Felix, being plastered on every magazine and every billboard, his long blonde hair styled in a multitude of ways. “It’s what they call an androgynous look, dad,” Felix shrugs. For a brief moment, he feels Felix’s eyes on him, but when he tries to look, his son has already returned to looking at himself in the mirror.
He dusts a light layer of makeup on his face. It’s not enough to cover his freckles, but it does even out his skin, and Chan thinks it makes him shine even more. “I know what androgynous means,” he huffs, unable to look away from his son as he brushes his eyebrows into place.
There’s no reply after that, at least not until Felix stretches his arms over his head and pushes himself off the ground. “How fancy do I need to dress?” he asks, already walking over to his closet. “It’s up to you, Baby. It’s your celebration.”
“Ugh, Dad, don’t call me that.”
“What?”
Felix pulls out a shirt and walks over to his mirror. He watches himself as he drapes it over his torso. “Baby. I am not five anymore.” To this, Chan lets out a rumbling laugh, one that he can feel starts from the very depth of his guts. “You are not,” he continues to laugh.
“Exactly,” Felix huffs. He’s not really annoyed, Chan knows it. And judging by his pouting lips, he almost dares to think Felix liked it. “Now, give me some privacy as I change. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Chan heeds his son’s order and walks out of his bedroom. He makes sure to stop by a mirror to make sure he still looks presentable. If Sooyeong had seen him now, she’d ask him to at least change a shirt. Thus, that’s what he does, and by the time he makes his way down to the first floor, he hears the music from Felix’s room stop.
“Is Mother coming?”
It’s the first question Felix asks after greeting Minhyuk and stepping into the car. There’s no good way to break the news. Thus, Chan pinches his nose bridge and inhales sharply. “I’m sorry, Felix. I tried to-”
“She did talk about meeting some friends later today when I spoke with her on the phone.”
Chan’s surprise must be apparent, for Felix lets out an awkward laugh. “She didn’t call to congratulate me if that’s what you’re thinking,” he shrugs. “She called to inform me that she bought the latest Hermes bag.”
There’s no sadness behind Felix’s eyes. It’s been a while since he grew apathetic when it comes to his mother. Sometimes, Chan even thinks it happened to Felix before it happened to himself. However, unlike Felix, he struggles to keep the emotions he still has for that woman under tight reins. “I swear, one day I’ll fuckin-”
“Dad,” Felix sighs. One of his small hands come to rest on Chan’s shoulder. The touch is brief, but it leaves a warm spot behind. “Celebrating with you is funner anyway.” There’s no reason for Chan to grow happy hearing that. His son is, after all, being deprived of his second parent’s love, and no matter how old he becomes, it’s still not right. However, Chan’s wickedness is not foreign to him, and the thought of having Felix to himself for a night is a joy in itself.
Minhyuk has only driven them for a few minutes before Chan notices how the driver keeps looking in his rear mirror. Beside him, Felix has his phone out, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, only stopping to double-tap a few pictures.
“Sir…”
“For how long?”
“Since we left the driveway.”
Chan nervously places his bottom lip between his teeth and tries to refrain from breathing too loudly. “I heard there’s a different route to the restaurant. Perhaps we can take that?”
“Yes, Sir. It would take a bit longer, but it is a good idea.”
By now, Chan sees Felix furrow his eyebrows. And just as he is about to open his mouth to ask Chan what’s going on, he stops him. “I’ve had some reporters tailing me for a while, Baby. They-”
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Sorry, Felix. Well, these reporters seem to have found our vehicle, so Minhyuk will take us on a slight detour. There’s nothing to worry about.”
Minhyuk does what Chan tells him, and so instead of continuing on the highway, they switch to the right lane and slowly drive off, taking them into the bustling streets of Seoul instead. “Sure, whatever,” Felix mumbles and inches further down his seat, eyes still kept on his phone.
Soft turns grow hard, and Minhyuk’s frequent look in the rear mirror becomes increasingly worrying. Even Felix has put his phone away. Though he hasn’t voiced any concerns to Chan quite yet. Instead, seeming to try to focus on the buildings they drive by instead of what’s going on behind them.
“Sir,” Minhyuk says under his breath, his eyes meeting Chan’s in the mirror. The look is enough for Chan to turn around in his seat and lay eyes upon not one, but three black cars - all seeming to be on their tail. “I have alerted security, they should be meeting us at the restaurant.”
“Security?”
Felix’s voice is meek, causing Chan to rip his eyes away from the road and instead focus on his now sickly pale son. “A precaution,” he murmurs, running one hand through Felix’s previously pristine hair. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
But that’s not entirely true.
One of the cars behind them comes dangerously close, and Minhyuk’s forced to take a hard left, sending their car sliding down a dark road. “Dad,” Felix says nervously, digging his small hands into the car seat. “There’s nothing to worry about, Felix.”
“Sir!”
What follows sends Chan’s body hurling forward. In his peripheral vision, he sees his son fall into a similar fate. But that’s all that he registers before the world turns black and his mouth fills with the taste of iron.
“Da-dad..”
“Daa-”
“Dad?”
With a throbbing headache and a low groan, Chan comes to - awakened by a familiar deep voice. The more he blinks, the more he feels. Everything hurts, from the very pads of his feet to the top of his head. Not to speak of the fact that he can’t see a single thing.
“F-felix?” he tries to mutter, though his attempt is muffled by a poor attempt at stuffing his mouth. He harks loudly as he manages to pry the fabric from his mouth and feels it land on his lap.
He’s seated. But he’s not seated in a car. Where there once was a safe seat belt, there is now nothing. Instead, Chan strains against some sort of thick rope around his wrists tied roughly to his back. Even when he tries to move his legs, nothing gives, only the scratchy sound of the chair moving over some hard flooring he can’t see.
“Dad, I’m here. Are you okay?”
“Felix, I-” he starts, but a coughing fit stops him from continuing, his mouth once more filling up with blood. It’s not only blood that presents itself but also an encroaching sense of dread that fills his entire body, dipping even into the tiniest of pores.
Only the quiet breathing of his son seems to stop him from descending into utter madness and panic. “Felix, are you hurt?” Chan somehow manages to ask through a serious of deep breaths. “No,” the other answers. “A bit sore, but I think I’m fine..”
“D-dad, can you see anything?”
It’s the terror in Felix’s voice that makes Chan let out a frightened sob. Another one surges forward, but he swallows it harshly and shakes his head stupidly. “Something’s bound around my head,” he answers.
“Dad, I’m scared.”
“Fuck, Feli- I’ll fix this! I promise you!”
His first attempt at fixing it results in him howling in pain when he tries to pull his hands free. When he hears a pop, followed by his thumb throbbing in excruciating pain, he comes to a stop. The next thing he tries is to kick his feet free, but the chair wobbles far too much, and even in a state of panic, he does not see how banging his head against the floor might aid him.
“I’d be very careful if I were you.”
A gruff voice pierces through the heavy air. It’s timber as heavy as a loaded revolver. “You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself, now do you?” Several footsteps inch their way closer, their light tapping magnified in Chan’s mind. He tries to count them. He tries to figure out their positions. But to no avail. For his head throbs far too much.
“Let us go!” He yells and strains against the rope once more, his dislocated thumb screaming in pain. “Tsk,” someone says. “I don’t think so.” This time, it’s a different person. Whereas the other was a low base, this one springs higher.
“Let us go!” Chan yells again. “Do you know who I am? I could get you all wipe-”
“Oh, we know very well who you are. Bang Chan, party leader of MHV for 20 years now. You were the prodigy the old geezers spoke about in the early 00s. Fresh blood on the scene, one who wanted to bring forth change in our country.”
Chan’s blood runs cold as the man speaks. His voice moves from the left to the right and then around, signifying his pacing around the two of them. “T-then you know people will notice I’m gone,” Chan stutters, digging his nails into his palms. “They will find us. They won’t let you get out of this!”
“And who are they , Chan?”
A flurry of feet shovels through the room, and Chan hears Felix gasp before his chair is pushed over the floor, the screeching sound sending shivers down his spine. He wants to call out for his son, but the talking man demands his attention. “ They are not coming. They don’t even know you’re here, and they will never know.”
Terror courses through like a vagrant storm, out to make sure that he, too, never finds solace in a community ever again. “W-we… we can talk about this!” Chan pleads. “Tell me! Tell me what I’ll have to do! Fuck, let my son go, at least!”
A resounding laughter propels through the air and out of nowhere, someone yanks his head back and cuts off the fabric around his eyes. Horrendous fluorescent lights lashes out at him when he opens his eyes. He’s forced to quickly grow accustomed to it though for one of the men hovers above him, a wicked grin painted on his scarred face.
A jagged line runs down the man’s face, it only ends where the corner of his mouth stretches. “Your son, hmm?” the man taunts. It’s the one with the deep voice, the one who spoke first. However, at the mention of his son, Chan thrashes against the hold on his head. With a strained groan, he manages to turn his eyes.
What fills his vision has a wicked sob erupt from his chest. There, not far from him, Felix also has his head yanked back. A knife is buried under the fabric around his eyes. Chan wants to yell out to have them stop, but there’s no avail. He sees the knife drag through the fabric; in the process of doing so, nicking the soft skin on Felix’s cheek.
A slow stream of blood makes its way down his cheek, dripping from his chin and onto the very ends of his blonde hair. “Don’t fucking hurt him!” Chan yells out and strains against the rope. “I hear models with deformities are sought after,” the deep-voiced man slurs. “Perhaps he’d look good with a scar.” Chan watches in horror as the man occupies his vision and runs a finger down the jagged scar on his face. “No, no, no!”
“Dad.”
Felix’s voice feels like a gentle caress reaching out for him, and he wildly looks to the side in an attempt to look upon his most treasured person. There’s some sort of resolve swimming in Felix’s eyes, and somehow, Chan manages to reach out to soak up some of it.
“Why did you do this?”
“Why?”
Once more the entire group of men let out a cacophony of mocking laughs. “As if you don’t know,” one of the men standing further in the back chuckles. “I dont!” Chan shouts, shaking his head wildly. Next to him, he hears a quiet sob spill from Felix’s mouth, and all he wants to do is embrace his son and tell him that it will all be okay.
“So if we publish a video exposing all of your crimes, you still wouldn’t know?”
Chan’s blood runs cold; from the very tips of his fingers to his toes a deep chill courses through him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spits out. However, his resolve must sound as weak as it feels, for the men only laugh again.
Out of nowhere, his chin is cupped, and the scarred man moves in close. “Yeoham hospital, didn’t you greenlight that medical trial that ended in the death of 15?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“SKI bank, what about their most recent scandal? Aren’t you listed as one of their main investors?”
“Do I need to repeat myself? I don’t-”
“What about your excursion on the 3rd of March? Do tell me, where did you dispose of the car after the hit and run?”
“That’s not how it-”
A harsh slap strikes across his face, and for what feels like the umpteenth time, his mouth fills up with blood. “Fuck!” he yells out and thrashes against his restraints again. His dislocated thumb throbs as the ropes dig into his already raw skin. “None of that is true,” Chan spits through gritted teeth.
“Dad… do as they say.”
Blonde hair and blood-tainted cheeks stare back at him with pleading eyes. “Bab- Felix, it’s not true what they say, I’m not like that.” Felix shakes his head and looks up at the scarred man briefly before he looks back at Chan. “Don’t you think I know?”
If his blood had already run cold, it’s now frozen solid. Chan feels his mouth fall open, and a useless string of blood hangs from his mouth. “The contract, too, Dad. I know you pulled a few strings.”
A few strings.
More than a few.
“Felix, I-”
“You did it for me, Dad. I know.”
Something familiar flashes over Felix’s face, and for the first time in a long time, Chan sees a mirror of himself. It’s only a momentary look, however, for fright quickly takes over when a man reaches down and wipes his bloody cheek. “You’ve gotten quite the offspring here, Bang Chan.” The same man purposefully places his thumb on Felix’s lips and pulls it down.
The sight alone has Chan’s stomach churning in disgust. “Don’t fucking touch him!” This time, when he tries to move, a pair of arms come from behind him, and he’s forced into place. “Now, now, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt now, do we?”
“Fucking bastards,” he spits out; blood flings from his mouth, landing on one of the men who gives him an unimpressed look. “Ahh,” he hears Felix strain. Looking over, the man has his hand around his neck, chubby fingers covering the ends of his blonde hair.
“What is it that you want?” Chan forces himself to look away from the sight and back to the scarred man. “I’ll give it to you.”
As if he’s finally pushed the right button, the scarred man produces a wicked smile, and with a wave of his hand, the man occupied with Felix takes a step back. “Money?” Chan offers. “What’s your price? I can do it. I have more than, shit, I have more than enough!”
“Well…”
“A cause? Do you have a cause you need fronted for my next campaign?” If… there is a second campaign. Slimy teeth and splatters of blood are all Chan sees when the man merely cocks his head and looks at him. “What is it that you want?” Desperation clings to his syllables, and Chan whips his head between a sunken Felix and the man in front of him.
“How much! Tell me your prize.”
“I don’t care for money.”
“Then what? What do you want!?”
Something behind him slides over the floor, and Chan sees the man nod to someone before he looks back at Chan. “I want you to have the taste of hurt.” His words feel like venomous snakes, slithering their way into the air. There’s more rustling behind them, but neither of them can look back. Felix has his eyes set upon Chan, an attempt to show support, while Chan is in a battle for their lives.
“We need a scandal of you to reach the news, one that will make you hurt so much you’ll think twice of doing such things to others.”
Chan’s at a loss. What is it that he can do? Everything they said he did was true, and the fact that Felix has apparently caught on to it, feels like enough pain already.
“Your dad’s pretty good-looking, isn’t he, Felix?”
That same man that dared to lay his hands upon his son, now does so again, tipping Felix’s face to the side with his stubby finger on his chin. “What are…” Felix swallows his words when the buttons on his shirt are ripped apart. “You should have seen him when he was your age. The media were all after him, wondering who he’d date and who he’d marry.”
“Though, the poor guy ended up marrying that mother of yours. Last I heard of her, she was whoring herself away to another director.”
“Don’t talk of my mother that way,” Felix spits out. His eyes flare with anger and he forcibly manages to look up at the sleazy man above him. “You like men don’t you, Lixxie? Just like your father.” The nickname, coupled with such intimate details, has Chan shouting in protest, though his attempts to get them away from his son are futile, for a hand covers his mouth with force.
The hand on Felix’s chin disappears, and instead, the man opens up his shirt even more, revealing mainly untarnished skin if one looks away from the bruising on the side of his chest where his seatbelt was. “What about it?” Felix spits out. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” The scarred man laughs and shrugs his shoulders before he saunters over to where Felix is sitting.
“Nothing wrong for you, perhaps, but for your father, such a thing might be detrimental.”
Once more mirroring himself, Felix looks up at the scarred man with pure disgust and a resolve Chan somehow finds time to feel proud of. “What are you insinuating?”
“Oh, I think you understand what I mean, Felix. Unlike your father, you’re clever.” The scarred man runs his hand over Felix’s face, brushing away locks of blonde. “Your face will be hidden. Though I guess your biggest fans might recognize something like this,” the man says and moves his hand from Felix’s face to his chest, where Chan knows a splatter of freckles resides.
“If we do this, will you let us live?”
“Felix!”
Chan’s eyes widen in utter shock as he hears his son’s resolve. Icy blood runs through him, and it pools in places he’d rather it not settle. “If you do it well.” The finger on Felix’s chest disappears, and the man steps to the side before he turns to grasp Chan’s gaze. “Your face, however… Well, we’ll see how much grace reporters possess.”
“This is ludicrous! What the fuck are you even implying!”
“Dad…”
“Felix, no!”
He shakes his head wildly, feeling his head spin in ways he’s never felt it do. “Dad,” he hears again. This time, he halts his movement and looks over at his blood-soaked son. There’s less now, but only because most of it has dried or been wiped away by hands, Felix should never have felt on his body. No one else but him should be able to do that. Chan should be the one to soothe and to clean up his son. No one else.
“Come on now. Why do you keep pretending?” The scarred man laughs. “We all know how fucked up you are in the head.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“Then how do you explain this?”
Out of nowhere, his chair is tipped back, and Chan yells out in terror. “Deviant,” the scarred man growls and places his shoe-clad foot on Chan’s crotch. “You’re fucking hard.” He pushes down so hard that a guttural groan erupts through his already parted lips.
What happens next is but a mere blur. The rope around his hands and feet is all cut, and he’s shoved out of his chair and brought back. All Chan remembers before he sees a flurry of blonde fall toward him is how much it hurts to walk.
“Dad,” Felix cries. There are tears streaming from the corners of his eyes now. “Felix,” Chan whispers back, reaching behind the other and pulling him closer. Their heartbeats surge with every second that passes, but Chan remains still, keeping his son as close as he can. All around them, feet shuffle, and the familiar sound of a camera turning on presents itself.
“I don’t want to see this shit,” one of the men growls. He must have walked out, for Chan hears the faint sound of a door unlocking and locking again. That same sound is heard at least twice before Felix’s head is yanked away from Chan’s chest.
Above them, the scarred man howls with ecstasy. His hand is curled up in Felix’s hair, keeping him in place with a tight grip. “Do it well, and we’ll let you go.”
“Ahh,” Felix whimpers when he’s pushed back down into Chan’s chest. His nose slides over an exposed spot of skin, leaving behind a wet spot. Unlike the scarred man, Chan holds Felix tightly as he runs his hand gently through those blonde locks of his. Despite the blood and sweat, his hair feels impossibly soft, and for a moment, Chan nearly allows himself to forget where they are.
“Any time now.”
The reminder of their situation blares loudly, and Chan finds himself digging his nails into the shivering body on top of him. “Dad,” Felix whispers. “It’s okay. I- I don’t mind.” Small hands dig into his chest, and Felix pushes himself up a bit. Only enough for the two of them to be able to see each other’s faces.
Those same tear stains from earlier have now dried, and Felix looks at him with a look Chan finds himself unable to fully digest. “We have to do this,” he whispers.
“But it’s wrong, Felix.”
“I know… but, daddy, I-”
“Fuck.”
No one else can touch him. Felix is his. His alone. Nothing can ever come in between them. As if a switch turns, Chan grabs hold of his son and pulls him closer. “Felix,” he whispers before he slots their lips together.
There’s hesitancy to the kiss, but there’s no fight, and with every slow push and pull, Chan finds Felix leaning into it. Around them, the world turns distant. The only thing they can hear and focus on is the other's rapid heartbeat and their shared nervousness mixed with wicked excitement.
Muffled sounds coming from Felix spurs Chan on even more, and he fully embeds his hand into his son’s hair. The act has Felix gasping slightly, allowing Chan to swipe his tongue over his lips before he dives into the warmth that is Felix.
There’s an odd sense of familiarity to the kiss. Almost as if they are attuned to each other. Felix curls his small fists into Chan’s bloody shirt and tilts his head so they can deepen the kiss even more. Chan’s nose slides over Felix’s cheek as he swallows the other’s whimpers. The faint scent of blood and tears only seems to make him lose his mind even more.
Felix shifts his position by fully climbing on top of Chan, one of his slender thighs on each side of his lower abdomen. “Daddy,” Chan hears murmured into his ear. “You’re hard.” Slotted perfectly over his crotch is Felix’s ass. And even though Chan can’t see anything, he can feel it. He feels how Felix’s ass perfectly surrounds his strained crotch.
“Touch me.”
“W-what…”
“Daddy, please.”
He doesn’t even need to move his own limbs, for Felix already grabs onto his hands and guides them down his sides until they come to a rest above his ass. “We need to do it well, Dad,” Felix murmurs into his ear, darting his tongue out to lick his over his lobe. “We might as well make it feel good.”
Chan’s mind accelerates to speeds he’s never experienced, and instead of a wide road ahead, his vision starts to tunnel until all he can see and feel is Felix’s trembling body. Felix is his. All his. “Come here,” he groans and hoists the other one further up his abdomen before he gently spins them around. Both of their bodies ache, but with how caught up they are in the moment, it might not even have happened.
Calm and unsure touches grow frantic when Chan further rips Felix’s shirt open, revealing his slender frame. “Shit,” he curses and wraps his hands around Felix’s waist, feeling just how perfect he truly is. Not that Chan didn’t already know. He’s always known that Felix is perfect. But now that he can finally feel him, Chan feels like he doesn’t care where he ends up when he dies.
“Daddy,” Felix whimpers when Chan brushes his thumbs over his hardened nipples. Beautiful soft moans coupled with endless writhing spurs him on even more, and thus, the moment he pulls Felix’s nipple into his mouth, he can’t help but join the cacophony of moans.
He’s as soft and responsive as Chan imagined. The way his body rolls onto his own is nothing short of inebriating. Not only is he hard, but Felix is too, a fact so consuming that Chan can’t help but buck his hips down onto the other man. “Fuck,” he curses and licks his way up Felix’s chest until he slots their lips together again.
Gone are all inhibitions. Where Chan touches, Felix responds, and when Felix grinds, he grinds, too. “Dad’s going to take care of you,” he murmurs into the other’s ears, wrapping his lips around the dangling lobe. There’s a faint taste of blood when he does so, but Chan doesn’t mind. How could he mind when Felix lets out the most beautiful sounds whenever he’s touched.
He first undresses Felix, an act that leads the men still in the room to whisper between themselves. Though Felix seems to hear it, the blonde keeps his eyes on Chan, almost as if he’s grasping onto the one thing that keeps him safe.
That’s what Chan is there to do.
Keep Felix safe.
Keep him secure in his arms.
Slender muscles and a rising chest are what fills Chan’s vision as he slowly moves down and tugs off Felix’s pants. Doing so, he brings the underwear with him, too, revealing a long, pink length. Felix’s cock lays perfectly over his stomach, bending just a bit. It’s not too big, and it’s not too small. “Perfect,” Chan murmurs and slowly wraps his calloused hands around the length.
“Ahh , Dad!”
“So beautiful… You’re so beautiful, Lix.”
It is then that a blush appears on his son’s face, and Chan feels like he might actually swoon. He releases the hold on Felix’s cock in favor of cupping his cheek and running his thumb over the pink tone, almost as if he is trying to soak it up.
“Please,” Felix starts, opening his mouth and spreading his legs. “Need it.” Never once did Chan think he would hear such words come out from his son’s mouth, and certainly not towards himself. Yet, here he is, achingly hard with what is essentially a knife flush with his back. “Such a pretty little thing,” he murmurs. “No wonder everyone wants you on their front page.”
He tugs off his own bloody shirt and pulls off his pants. The act is far less tender than before, but Chan feels like he might lose it if his cock is not freed. “Oh fuck,” Felix curses and immediately covers his face. “What?” Chan chuckles and climbs on top of the other again.
His own length rests on top of Felix’s own, and it’s then that Chan realizes just how much larger he is. “T-too big,” Felix whimpers and shakes his head. “Shh, it will be okay. Daddy will make sure it feels good.” And even though Felix shakes his head, he still spreads his legs even wider, presenting his pink hole to the room.
“You’re pretty even here,” Chan murmurs and collects Felix’s legs only to bend them so that he has better access to what he most desires. There’s a low thud next to him, and Chan whips his head around just in time to see the scarred man drop off a bottle of lube, his pants entirely unzipped. “Fucking bastard,” he curses under his breath, hoping it’s not loud enough for Felix to have heard.
He uncaps the bottle and pours some of its liquid onto his own fingers. He tries to add it onto Felix’s hole, but admittedly, in his excitement he trembles far too much. “Pour it directly over, Daddy,” Felix whimpers behind his legs, his head barely seen from the side when Chan tries to meet his eyes. “You’ve done this before?” Chan chuckles, a sudden surge of normalcy.
“A few times,” Felix answers. He doesn’t chuckle. No, he bites his lips in embarrassment. It takes everything Chan has not to ask what or who Felix thought of when doing things like that. Despite his curiosity, Chan comes to the rather wicked conclusion that he doesn’t want to know. What he wants is for Felix to only remember his father’s touch when he fucks himself or others.
Chan does as he’s told and pours lube all over Felix’s behind. The liquid pools between his cheeks before dripping down onto the mattress they were provided. Before it all goes to waste, Chan scoops some of it up and lathers it all over Felix’s hole, taking advantage of the situation and touching more places than necessary. “Hhng, Daddy,” Felix moans and awkwardly tries to meet Chan’s touch by moving his hips.
“I’m gonna open you up now. Make you all relaxed so I can fill you up.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Felix whips his head from side to side as he screws his eyes shut. “Daddy, I can’t, plea-”
“Shh, relax.”
He pushes the first finger in with ease. When it reaches the second knuckle, he stops and allows Felix’s hole to clench around his digit. “So warm,” he murmurs before he pushes in fully. He takes his time with the first finger, letting Felix grow accustomed to the feeling but also himself - for having his son like this nearly has Chan coming untouched.
When he pulls out, Felix whines and begs for more. “Needy,” he teases and places two fingers at his entrance. The hole pulsates against his fingertips, and so do the warm walls inside of Felix when he pushes both digits inside. “B-big,” Felix whimpers and reaches down to stop Chan from moving too quickly.
“You need to be stretched, if not-”
“No… it’s just that your hands are bigger than mine,” Felix stutters and slowly wraps his hand awkwardly around Chan’s, moving it slowly in and out. “Feels too good,” he moans. If Chan thought his inhibitions were already lost, now they have entirely vanished into thin air. He pries Felix’s hand away and instead slams in his fingers, curling and uncurling them relentlessly. Useless moan after useless moan pours from Felix’s mouth, and he struggles to keep his knees to his chest, making Chan crawl over him so that he has his body weight on Felix’s knees while fingering him.
“Dad, dad, daddy!”
“So pretty, so fucking pretty.”
Chan doesn’t add more lube when he forces in another finger. With three fingers deep into Felix, Chan now feels his cock throb painfully, his length rubbing over Felix’s shin.
Behind them, several pairs of feet shuffle closer until Chan can see shadows in his peripheral vision. “Don’t look at them,” he whispers. “Look at me, yeah?” Felix’s eyes flash to the side but they quickly return back to Chan. “I only see you, Daddy,” he whispers. “I only want to see you.”
Chan’s heart swells, and he pulls out of Felix, only to spread his legs so he can slot their lips together again. Their kiss is soft and gentle, almost serving as a reassurance that everything will be okay. But of course, it will be okay. Felix has him. Chan will take care of him. No matter what it takes.
“Come here,” he murmurs and hooks his hands around Felix’s hips. He pulls him closer with ease, earning him another rush of pink that crawls up Felix’s chest. “I’ll take care of you,” he reminds once more, gently thumbing over the soft skin under his grip.
“Need it…”
Chan’s ears perk up, and he feels a sense of wickedness creep up his neck. “What did you say?” he murmurs, aligning his cock at Felix’s entrance. “Need you, Daddy. Need you to make me feel good.” Bliss. Utter bliss courses through Chan, and he digs his nails into the soft skin.
Carefully, he starts pushing in. To his surprise, Felix relaxes entirely and allows Chan to feed his cock into him with relative ease. “Have you ever felt so full before?” Chan teases through gritted teeth. He places his hand on Felix’s lower stomach and pushes down, nearly growling when he feels the slight contour of his own cock embedded inside of his son. “Daddy,” Felix whines and shakes his head. “Have you?” he asks again, slowly rolling his hips. “Has anyone ever made you feel like this, Felix?”
“Baby…”
“What?”
“Call me baby.”
Chan stops his slow hip movement and leans down to lick into Felix’s mouth. “Baby,” he murmurs. “My baby.” Felix whines into his mouth, feverishly trying to keep up with the kiss, but his mind seems to have blanked, a state Chan can’t help but feel ecstatic over.
It’s then that he picks up his pace. He places both of his hands on each side of Felix and starts fully pulling out before he slams back in. The glide is easy with the amount of lube he poured over Felix, but it’s also easy for Felix seems to suck him in so willingly it makes Chan’s heart ache.
His name, coupled with endless “daddy’s,” fills the air, and Chan soaks it all up, allowing himself to fill up with both pride and love. “Keep your hand on your belly, Baby,” he murmurs, licking a strip from Felix’s collarbone to his ear, tasting remnants of blood mixed in with sweat.
When Felix moves his hands to his lower abdomen, Chan sees his entire brain light up in pleasure. Felix throws his head back and properly pushes down on his stomach. “I feel you,” he chants. “So deep, so big, ahh , Daddy!” Whatever words Felix tries to produce from that on are mere babbles.
“My pretty baby,” Chan groans. “Taking his Daddy’s cock so well.” He slams into Felix with vigor, wanting every thrust to be deeper and harder than the last. It’s that act that has Chan’s vision starting to blur. Though it doesn’t seem like he’s the only one, for Felix has wrapped one of his hands around his cock, pumping himself based on Chan’s pace.
Felix is his.
No one else can have him.
“Come for me, Baby,” he strains, feeling how Felix’s walls have started to constrict - Felix’s pleasure skyrocketing with every thrust and with every pump. “Show me how beautiful you look when you come on Daddy’s cock.”
Felix’s eyes flare, and the two of them find themselves unable to look away. Chan wraps his hand around Felix’s hand, that’s currently sliding up and down his cock. “Daaa-” There’s no need for words. Chan knows it. He knows how lost his baby is. The pleasure is far too much for him.
Chan buzzes as he sees Felix let go to the pleasure within him, and when white spurts of come starts to decorate his stomach, Chan reaches down and swipes some up. Immediately, he brings the come up to his lips. “Delicious,” he inhales and sinks his fingers into his own mouth. “Fuck, that’s ho- aahh !” Once again, words are unnecessary, and instead of letting Felix speak, Chan slams into him.
With one hand on his chest and the other on the mattress, Chan fucks into Felix so hard he starts to see white. Animalistic growls and primal desire takes over, and all he can focus on is how wrecked Felix looks under him - wrecked by his father’s cock.
As if he was made for it.
Chan comes with the promise of taking care of Felix. His cock throbs violently, and he empties himself inside of Felix, making sure his soft walls are lathered in warm come. “So full,” Felix moans, his hand back on his stomach, pushing down.
Sweat drips from Chan’s forehead as he leans down and pulls Felix into another kiss. He swipes his tongue over his lips and gains easy access inside.
“We did it,” Chan hums.
“Felt so good,” Felix says shyly when Chan pulls away and runs a hand through his beautiful blonde hair. “Yeah,” he smiles.
“Now you’re mine.”
Something flashes over Felix’s face, but Chan has no time to decipher it, for a myriad of hands wrap around his upper body and pulls him away with force. Felix yells out and reaches out for Chan but to no avail. He’s dragged over the floor, the skin on his heels ripping when it comes in contact with the ground.
“Dad! No, wait, you fucking liars! You promised!” Felix’s yells and protests grow muffled the moment Chan’s pulled out of the room. He’s thrown onto the floor by one of the men. Almost immediately, a pile of clothes lands on top of him. “
In the distance, he hears Felix sob.
“You’re fucked up.”
The scarred man stands over him, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “It’s not your job to care,” Chan says and stands up. He steps into the fresh pair of pants, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him the entire time. “You liked it as much as I did,” he says and raises an eyebrow at the other men who went out of the room before their act started.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
Chan grins as he points to a screen near the door. A live feed shows Felix curled up into a ball, his naked body shivering. It’s not a sight Chan prefers, but he won’t deny how it makes him feel.
The scarred man, the one Chan probably should know the name of, steps in front of him and zips up his pants. Chan eyes the wet spot on his underwear and grins. “We kept our end of the deal. Now it’s your turn.”
“Sure,” Chan shrugs and walks over to where his belongings are neatly folded. He pulls out his brown leather briefcase. He enters his code and unclasps the hinges. “I’ll throw in a bit extra for your convincing act,” he says. “And for the extra reassurance that what happened in here will never leave this building.”
The man nods before he steps forward and counts the bill Chan offers them. “This is adequate,” he says and has one of his men add it to a black duffel bag.
“Now get out. I have to reclaim what is mine.”
Chan dismisses the men with one simple gesture. Before walking back in, he makes sure to bring his briefcase and the blanket Minhyuk left for them.
“Dad!”
Felix rushes forward, tears streaming down his face. “I’m here, Baby,” Chan murmurs and wraps his hands around his son, sighing in relief when he feels their bodies fall flush once more. “Daddy’s here.” His clean shirt turns wet with Felix’s tears, but it doesn’t matter. For all that matters is now in his arms, and Chan knows he will never let go.
“W-why… Why do you have your briefcase?”
“I brought it with me, Felix. Don’t you remember?”
Felix pushes away and stumbles back, his eyes wide and filled with tears again. “You,” he starts, shaking his head in disbelief. “Come on, Baby. Let’s get you home,” Chan murmurs and holds his hand out for Felix to take.
When Felix doesn’t grab onto him, Chan steps forward and does it himself. He wraps his hand around Felix’s wrist and pulls him closer again. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“You fucking bastard,” Felix spits out and yanks his hand out of Chan’s grasp before handing him a well-deserved slap to his face. He doesn’t feel the need to stop his son. Thus, when a series of slaps land on his cheek, Chan takes it. He breathes in through the pain, loving how delicious it tastes when his mouth fills up with blood once more.
When Chan opens his eyes once more, Felix stares back at him with such hatred it makes him laugh. “You liked it,” he grins. “You fucking loved it.” A shrill shriek fills the air, and Felix tightens his fist, only to slam it into Chan’s chest over and over again.
“You deprived fucker,” Felix spits out, droplets hitting Chan’s face. Their eyes connect once more. However, this time, it’s Chan who has to take a step back. What meets his eyes sends a wicked chill down his spine.
“It’s a pity isn’t it? You seem to have forgotten what your seed passed on” Felix growls. There it is again. That look. The one that screams of familiarity. Chan’s about to answer, but his son rips the blanket from his hands and steps right up to his face. “You’re not the only one capable of acquiring whatever your heart desires.”
Felix discards the blanket, and as he walks away, he steps on it, making sure it soaks up the stray drops of blood on the floor.
Chan's gut churns as the air fills with dread. What has he started? He watches as Felix strides out of the room, his slender and beaten body barely illuminated by the confines of Chan’s plan. The same plan he now has a feeling will be squashed in an instant.
“Come on, Daddy. Bring me home.”