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Chan had always heard stories about wolves roaming the forest — and as a rabbit, he should be worried, should be careful. But what could he do if bathing in the waterfall was his favorite thing in the world? And in all his years of life, he had never even seen the shadow of a wolf; it was probably just a legend, anyway. So yes, while everyone was too distracted to scold him or stop him from going out alone, Chan went to the waterfall.
He was already used to it; he truly believed that no evil dwelled in the forests. And even if a wolf did appear, Chan believed he would be able to escape — or at least he hoped so. In any case, being in his animal form helped him hide, one of the good things about being a rabbit.
Chan hopped excitedly through the forest, his ears twitching with anticipation and his little tail wagging; there was something about lying to everyone in the village just to sneak away that made everything seem even more appealing. Being in the familiar fields, hearing the sound of falling water; that was life to him.
Back in his human form, the first thing he did upon seeing the long-awaited waterfall was dive in. The water was as cold as ever, making his fur stand on end, and his ears tremble from the chill, he really loved all of it. Sometimes he went with his friend, Jisung, but he was a very scared bunny and almost always backed out. Chan was already used to being alone anyway.
It was fun. So much fun that Chan didn’t notice the shadow watching him.
The rustling of bushes quickly caught his attention. His ears perked up at the sound, his nose rapidly sniffing the air. It had a scent, one that betrayed that whoever was there was not from his village.
“Who’s there?” Chan asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice. He knew he was easy prey, but he would do everything he could to conceal it.
The bushes rustled again, and the scent grew stronger. “Show yourself! I’m not afraid of you,” Chan yelled again, even though he knew his drooping ears betrayed him. “If you’re a rabbit, you don’t have to hide. I won’t tell anyone.”
The noise stopped, and the scent disappeared as well. Chan knew it was foolish, but he still sighed in relief; maybe it had just been his imagination.
Then he heard footsteps behind him, and his body froze in place — he knew he should run, his instincts screamed at him to run. He could hear the breathing near him, the scent filling his nostrils; it wasn’t bad, it was even pleasant. But any unfamiliar scent was a sign of danger.
“Bunny.” The voice spoke, and for some reason, it sounded too familiar.
Chan felt his whole body shudder, and even though fear consumed his entire being, he still turned to face him; if he was going to die, at least he wanted to see who killed him.
His eyes widened, his mouth falling open in shock. Clearly he was a wolf; his fangs were slightly visible, his fluffy and pointed ears twitching, and his tail moving behind him. But that wolf… he was Chan’s spitting image. The nose, the lips, even the dimples in his cheeks — If disregarded the obvious difference in their ears and tails, the only thing that would distinguish them was their hair color; the wolf had dark hair, while Chan was blond.
It was almost like looking in a mirror.
Chan tilted his head; the wolf did the same.
“What the hell?” Chan murmured, his eyes following the wolf’s physique; it resembled his own, just a little more muscular, with some scratches and a bite mark on his neck, his large penis and— Was it strange for him to look at the cock of someone who looked exactly like him? Was it even stranger that he felt aroused by it?
“Do you like what you see?” the wolf taunted, licking his lips.
Chan looked away, rubbing his legs together, staring at the cock really stirred something inside him. “You— You look just like me,” he stammered.
“Or are you the one who looks like me?” The wolf approached and touched one of Chan’s furry ears. “What’s your name, cutie?”
Chan swallowed hard, barely able to think through the shock. “I— Who are you?”
“Well, I live around here, silly.” He gave Chan a light tap on the nose. “Now answer me, what’s your name?”
“Chan.”
The wolf grinned widely, baring his fangs even more — for a second, Chan wondered what it would be like to be bitten by him. “Chan,” he repeated melodically. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“What’s your name?” Chan asked, his ears twitching with curiosity. The wolf laughed; Chan was cute.
“Christopher.” The wolf circled around Chan, stopping behind him and leaning close to his ear. “What’s a little bunny like you doing here all alone? Didn’t they warn you it’s not safe?”
Chan felt a shiver run through him, his fur bristling. Christopher’s voice sounded like his own, just a little rougher… Why the hell did that turn him on? “I always come here.” He answered
Christopher sniffed him more closely, the tip of his nose brushing against the curve of Chan’s neck. The bunny had to suppress an embarrassed sound as he felt the cold touch. “You smell good,” the wolf laughed maliciously. “If I knew you a little better, I’d say you’re… excited. Did you get turned on from seeing someone so similar to you?”
Chan stepped away quickly, turning to face him. “No! Of course not!” he said, even though he knew his red cheeks betrayed his lie. “I would never be attracted to someone like you.”
“Like me?” Christopher smiled slyly. “But I’m just like you. We have the same face, the same body type. Don’t you like yourself?”
“This is so fucked up,” Chan muttered. Seriously, what was wrong with him to feel attracted to a wolf? A wolf who looked just like him, to make matters worse!
“You’d better leave, sweetie.” Christopher sniffed the air. “Before something bad happens to you.”
Chan froze. Part of him wanted to stay and see what would happen; another part feared he wouldn’t make it home. It wasn’t every day you got the chance to maybe fuck someone who looked like you. There was something about Christopher that called to him, a desire. Chan knew it was strange, but was it wrong? Wouldn’t everyone react this way?
That's when another noise startled him, and overcome by the fear of being surrounded by two wolves, Chan quickly shifted into his rabbit form and ran. Luckily, the waterfall wasn’t that far from his village, and whoever made the second noise didn’t seem interested in following him — Christopher wasn’t either.
With his heart pounding and his ears twitching nervously, Chan finally caught the comforting scent of his village and could breathe deeply again, leaving his fear behind. He had the rest of the day to forget what had happened, the strange encounter he’d had in the forest.
But as night fell, his mind kept replaying the image of Christopher, and even though all his instincts told him otherwise, he wanted to see him again; maybe they could be friends! Perhaps, if Chan were a little more provocative, Christopher wouldn’t resist and would devour him right there in the forest. He remembered the sharp fangs, which certainly wouldn’t require much effort to tear his skin; Chan knew that wolves had a biting mark to make it clear when they were mated…
No. This was strange — strange and sick. Wanting to be marked by a wolf. Chan shifted uncomfortably in his bed. What the hell was wrong with him? Had an imprint happened? He chuckled bitterly — imprinting on himself, how ridiculous that sounded.
If he wanted to see Christopher again, he only had to look in the mirror.
—
Chan really tried to let it go. But it was practically impossible. Seeing his reflection anywhere felt like seeing that damned wolf again. And he wasn’t even that interested anymore in imagining what it would be like to have sex with his lookalike — now he just wanted to understand why he had one in the first place. Was it he who resembled Christopher, or the other way around?
Undoubtedly, that was his only intention in returning to the waterfall. He was searching for answers, conducting scientific research.
His fur stood on end at the slightest noise; even a light breeze put him on high alert, his keen ears catching every little sound around him. But the forest felt too empty; not even a new scent crossed his path. Maybe he was crazy, and Christopher had simply been a product of his wicked imagination.
He checked his reflection in the water, sighing deeply. It was pathetic to be there.
Just as he was preparing to return to the village, the sound of a branch snapping caught his attention and put him instantly on guard. The scent that came with it wasn’t Christopher’s — it was someone new.
“Hello?” He hated how shaky his voice sounded.
Another noise, louder this time. Chan took slow steps backward, preparing to flee. “Christopher?”
A lynx emerged from the leaves, its eyes fixed on him — so sharp that the rabbit trembled. He was screwed; he hadn’t believed the wolf story in a long time, but he knew the lynx one was real. Without wasting a second, Chan shifted into his rabbit form and bolted.
He couldn’t lead the lynx to his village, so he ran in the opposite direction, hoping he’d lose it. But the predator was fast and seemed determined to hunt him.
Now running through completely unfamiliar paths, Chan was certain he wouldn’t make it home; he would die right there. There was no escape. His small body was struck from behind, tossed down a slope — regret flooding him as he rolled. He shifted back to his human form, hoping it would minimize the impact.
He hit the ground hard, air knocked from his lungs. Through blurry vision he saw the lynx approaching, ready to devour him — and not in any way Chan would have liked. Too weak to run, he simply closed his eyes. His end had come.
But the attack never came.
When he opened his eyes, Chan found himself face to face with a gray-furred wolf standing between him and the lynx. Great. Now he was going to die twice. How unlucky could he be?
But as the lynx advanced, the wolf lunged, the two of them rolling across the ground — the wolf, being larger, pinning it and trying to bite. Chan’s head spun, his mind clouded. God, not even in death could he get a moment of peace.
The lynx, seemingly startled, backed away. Chan wasn't a hunt worth fighting over.
The wolf turned toward him and, if Chan knew him, he would say he looked confused. Its head tilted, ears lowered. Chan took a deep breath.
“If you’re going to kill me, at least be quick.” He exposed his neck, and the wolf seemed to snort in offense. “You like the hunting? Sorry, I’m too weak for that.”
The wolf seemed to frown, approaching to sniff Chan’s cheek, its nose trailing down to his neck. This was it — Chan shut his eyes again. But the bite also never came.
The wolf whimpered, sitting in front of him.
“Seriously? You’re going to watch me suffer until I die?”
Then the wolf transformed, shifting from a furry beast into a man. A very handsome man, Chan had to admit — his features were soft and round, his almond-shaped eyes seemed to hold immense kindness, nothing Chan would expect from a wolf. Honestly, he wouldn’t complain about dying for someone who looked like that.
Chan shook his head weakly. He was sick. Terribly sick.
“You’re hurt,” the stranger said, kneeling in front of him. “Do you think you can walk?”
Chan forced himself to sit up, groaning. “Maybe…” he whispered, embarrassed to be examined by someone so handsome when he probably looked like a complete mess.
The man placed his hand on his leg, fingers brushing lightly over the wounds. A whimper escaped Chan, who quickly bit his lips in embarrassment. Why was that stranger touching him so affectionately? His slender, gentle fingers — soft and tender, Chan would say — caressed his skin as if he were truly upset about his injuries. Chan stared at him, the wolf's eyebrows were furrowed, and even though his face was delicate, it was clear that he was not pleased — and the rabbit found himself enjoying that affection more than he should.
Catching Chan off guard, the wolf lowered his hand down his leg, lifting it slightly and lowering his head until his lips were close to his wound. His thumb was still stroking Chan's skin when the first lick came.
Chan stifled a moan at the feeling of the tongue against his skin; he wasn’t sure if it was from pain or arousal. “H-hey!” he stammered, swinging his leg to try and get away from the touch of his tongue. “You can’t just do that!”
The wolf merely glanced at him over its eyelashes, and completely ignoring him, continued to lick the wound. Was this something common among wolves? It wasn't bad, maybe just a little strange. And it made Chan feel truly wild— if he hadn't been hurt, he surely would have already mounted that wolf and—
“Please stop." Chan whimpered, It was too much, any more and he'd have a huge mess of slick underneath him.
The wolf finally moved away, lowering and releasing Chan's leg. His eyes reflected something like concern when they met Chan's. “Did I hurt you?”
Chan took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart. "No, you didn't hurt me. I just..." His eyes traveled over the wolf's body, fucking hot — it would be asking too much if he asked to be fucked right then and there?
“I'm sorry.” The wolf said, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You— you look exactly like my mate. It's actually a little strange, to be honest… I just couldn’t resist the instinct to take care of you.”
Oh. So he was Christopher’s mate? Damn. His wolf version really got lucky.
“What's your name?” The wolf asked, still absentmindedly caressing Chan’s leg.
“Chan”
The wolf smiled affectionately. "That's a beautiful name. I am Minho.”
Minho. Chan repeated in his mind. He liked Minho.
“So, Chan,” Minho started speaking again. “If you want, I can take you back to your village. I can guarantee your safe return.”
Chan sighed; he didn’t want to return to the village. Maybe he was insane, but everything inside him screamed to go after Christopher — and as a bonus, to stay near Minho.
Clearing his throat, Chan tried to ignore how Minho’s touches stirred something inside him. “Actually… I think I came looking for your mate…? Christopher?”
Minho frowned, stopping petting Chan's leg. “You know him?” His tone of voice was now suspicious.
“I— I only know his name.” Chan laughed uncomfortably, but Minho's gaze remained steady. “We met at the waterfall the other day. And I swear it’s nothing weird! I just… got confused and couldn't stop thinking about it. I just need to see him one more time, try to understand why.”
“Couldn't stop thinking about it or about him?” Minho raised an eyebrow, his tone of voice no longer so friendly — not that it was frightening.
“I'm not interested in him, not romantically!" Chan replied quickly, waving his hands in slight desperation.
Minho laughed. "It would be strange if you were, wouldn't it?" He stood up. "I can take you to him, but not for long. You need to get back home safely."
Chan nodded, trying to stand up to keep up with Minho, but the pain in his leg made him lose his balance, almost causing him to fall if Minho hadn't caught him. “Sorry.” Chan said, embarrassed.
“It's okay. I should have offered to help." Minho put his arm around Chan's waist, helping him up. "Do you want me to carry you?”
Chan felt his cheeks heat up. "No! It's not necessary. Just the support is fine.”
“If it becomes too uncomfortable, let me know.”
—
Luckily for Chan, the path to Minho's den wasn’t too long — it wasn’t an easy walk while injured, but it could have been worse, couldn’t it? The den was warm and welcoming inside, tidy in a charming, lived-in way. The scent of Christopher and Minho hung thick in the air, distinct yet blended, wrapping around Chan like a blanket. It made his chest loosen. It made him feel strangely at home, like he was stepping into a place he’d always been meant to enter.
Minho guided him toward a mound of thick fur, steering him with careful hands. Chan sank into it, a shaky breath escaping him as his body finally, finally relaxed — muscles unclenching, pain dulling under the cushion of warmth. He hadn’t realized how tense he was until the comfort swallowed him whole.
Minho disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Chan surrounded by the scent of wolves and the soft rustling of the den. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply breathe.
When Minho returned, he knelt down beside him with a first-aid kit. “Do you want to take care of it yourself,” he asked gently, “or should I?”
"You can do..."
The wolf sat down beside him, taking his leg and placing it in his lap. "Tell me if it hurts, okay?"
Minho calmly applied the cotton soaked in medicine to his wound; Chan hissed from the stinging, causing the wolf to look at him for confirmation to continue, Chan simply nodded. Minho was careful, blowing on it as he applied the medicine to lessen the burning, touching Chan as if he were something precious.
Damn, this was driving Chan crazy — not that he was some kind of sex maniac, Minho was just... too good for his sanity.
His mind drifted back to the feeling of Minho's tongue on his skin, trying to soothe the pain — Chan could feel his pussy trembling and was almost certain his scent was spreading through the den. He imagined Minho eating him out right there, holding him down while licking his pussy and making him—
The door slammed open with a loud bang.
“Baby, you won't believe who I just bum—” Christopher froze in place when he saw Chan there. "What? Why are you here? At this hour?”
“Hi to you too, love” Minho walked over to Christopher, placing a quick kiss on his lips. “Chan was attacked.”
Christopher's eyes widened. "Attacked?”
“Yes, and I saved him. He wanted to talk to you, I think?” Minho looked at Chan. "I think I'll leave you two to talk alone." He gave Christopher another quick kiss. "Be quick, okay? He has to be back before nightfall."
Minho left, muttering something like "this is too weird" before closing the door behind him. Christopher sat down beside Chan on the pile of fur, his eyes focused on the injuries on his leg.
“Was it a lynx?” Christopher asked, lightly running his fingers over the bandages Minho had just applied.
Chan swallowed hard; Christopher's hands were Just as gentle and soft. "Yes.”
“But you're doing well now, right?”
Chan nodded, staring at Christopher — part of him was completely incredulous that wolves could be so friendly; wouldn't it be right for him to be attacked and killed by them? Perhaps he was only alive until now because of his resemblance to Christopher.
“Look, I also have absolutely no idea why we look alike," Christopher said, settling himself into the pile of fur. "But I know I feel weird about you."
“Weird how?" Chan asked, his ears twitching in curiosity.
Christopher smiled slightly. "I'm attracted to you, to be honest. And that's strange, isn't it? But I guess I've always been attracted to myself — I know I'm hot.” He laughed at Chan's shocked expression. "But, for some reason, I think you're hotter than me.”
Chan felt his whole body burning, he was sure his face was as red as a pepper; and his fluffy tail was wagging wildly. Unconsciously, he squeezed his legs together, a warmth settling between them. “I think you’re hot too…” Chan whispered.
“We're both weirdos then." Christopher laughed. "I wonder if Minho thought you were hot too. Did you find him pretty?”
“No! I mean— maybe?”
Christopher burst into laughter again. “Chan, your scent filled our entire house. You were absolutely getting horny while he was taking care of you.”
He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Chan’s ear. His breath was warm and his voice was low. “And honestly? I get it. My mate is very handsome — and fucks incredibly well.”
Chan had to stifle a groan, his treacherous mind once again leading him to places he didn't want to go: imagining what it would be like to be fucked by both of them. The idea of Minho and Christopher touching him, kissing him, doing whatever they wanted with him…
He was going to combust.
Christopher pulled back just enough to look at him. Chan’s face was burning. His lashes were fluttering. His thighs were pressed tight.
“You’re all red,” Christopher murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Cute.”
He leaned forward, brushing his lips lightly against Chan’s — just a tease, an almost-kiss to leave him wanting more. “I hope we can see each other again, Chan.”
Without thinking much, Chan tried to close the small distance between them by moving closer, the only thing on his mind was the arching need to kiss Christopher. But the wolf was faster, pulling away. "You're cheeky." He grinned mischievously. "I like that.”
Chan whimpered in discontent, a pout forming on his full lips. "You can't treat me like this. I'm hurt!”
“Sorry, sweetie. I should be nicer, shouldn't I?" Christopher held Chan's chin, bringing their faces closer. “I'd look great blonde," he whispered before sealing their lips.
Chan felt his body go light — he was kissing Christopher, the one who had been troubling his mind for the past few days. Christopher’s lips were warm, soft, confident… Chan couldn't help but wonder if his lips were like that too. When his eyes fluttered half-open the glimpse of Christopher’s face felt like looking into a mirror.
Was it strange? Did feeling even more horny about it make him strange?
Well, Chan didn't feel strange at all; to be honest, he felt like he was in paradise. Christopher's tongue in his mouth, his hand holding firmly onto his jaw — he really couldn't ask for anything more. If that made him a weirdo, then he would be the happiest weirdo in the world.
Without them seeing or even hearing, the door opened, Minho poking his head inside. Fuck. Fuck. Minho felt his mind go blank and all his blood rush straight to his dick — seeing Christopher kissing Chan, whom he barely knew, was not something he expected to excite him. But damn, Christopher was the most beautiful person Minho had ever seen, consequently, Chan was too; and seeing them kissing didn't help matters. He wanted to get between them and claim them both, fuck Christopher and then, to make it perfectly clear who they belonged to, fuck Chan hard, leave him trembling and—
Minho shook his head, pushing away the impure thoughts. Chan didn't belong to him — Christopher was the one who was his mate. But it made sense that his possessiveness would grow towards Chan, right? It wasn't right that someone identical to his mate should be walking around and be claimed by another.
Minho entered, closing the door and attracting Christopher's attention. "Sorry to bother you... It's just getting late, so..."
Chan blinked frantically, confused on why Christopher stopped kissing him, his lips still in a perfect pout. His eyes then fell on the figure standing in the doorway. Minho. Minho had seen him kiss Christopher. Was he screwed now?
Christopher turned his gaze back to Chan. "You need to leave now, sweetie.” He stroked his hair. "We'll see each other again soon, okay?
Chan nodded, his mind still too far away to form words or coherent thoughts. Minho was soon by his side. "You can walk now, right?"
“I don't want to leave." Chan whined, holding firmly onto the fur beneath him. “Can't I spend the night here?”
Minho took a deep breath — terrible idea, Chan's scent was everywhere and it was so sweet that even in a short time, it had made him feel drunk. “That would be unwise, Chan. Your family and friends must be worried about you.”
“But,” Chan shifted, gripping Minho's wrist. "I'll stay quiet, I swear. And I'll be back tomorrow morning! I just—”
“No." Minho interrupted him, his voice firm and gruffer than he would have liked. Chan's ears flattened in his hair, his shoulders slumping in disappointment. “You can't stay here.”
A pout formed on Chan's lips — why did he do that so often? It was too damn cute — lips trembling slightly as if he were about to cry at any moment. "Sorry," he said softly.
Christopher nudged Minho lightly, giving him a silent scolding. "It's not safe for you here, Chan."
Chan continued looking down, fidgeting with his fingers. Minho regretted being rude, but he also didn't want to be reductive. “We need to go now, Chan.”
Minho tried to help him up, but Chan pushed him away, standing up on his own, doing his best not to groan in pain as his foot hit the ground. “I can do it on my own.”
Minho looked at Christopher, articulating silently "What's wrong with him?”, Christopher simply rolled his eyes, throwing himself back onto the pile of fur — he didn't want Chan to leave either, but Minho seemed too blind to notice what was going on.
“Aren't you coming?" Chan asked from the doorway.
Minho quickly crossed over to his side. "Let's go.”
An uncomfortable and awkward silence enveloped them as they made their way back to Chan village. The rabbit walked ahead, unyielding even after Minho offered his support several times. Minho had to fight against all his desires, wanting to respect Chan's wishes as much as possible; but seeing him limping didn't do his heart any good.
Minho still didn't understand why he felt he needed to take care of him. He only knew that he felt it and that it was a strong.
Chan stopped abruptly, alerting Minho. The rabbit soon sat down on a rock, groaning in pain; Minho approached, worried. "Does it hurt too much? You should have let me help you." He picked up Chan's heel and placed it in his lap. His fingers traced the bandages; they were all clean, without any trace of blood.
“Did you get angry at me?” Chan asked, his voice low and weak.
“No. Why would I get angry at you? I barely know you.” The soft cry that came from Chan's mouth worried him.
“You seemed angry. In your den, when I asked if I could stay.”
Their eyes met, a shiver running through both of them. The moonlight reflected in Chan's blond hair, making him even more handsome. If Minho wasn't so good at self-control, Chan would already have his bite mark on his neck.
“I just want you to be safe. I’m not angry." He stroked Chan's thigh.
“You’re not angry that I kissed Christopher?”
Minho stifled a laugh. "To be honest, I thought it was hot." He shrugged. "Something I didn't think I needed to see, but in the end, it was what was missing for life to make sense, you know?”
“Oh.” Chan took his leg off of Minho's lap. "You... You'd like to kiss me too?”
“You want to kiss me, Chan?” Minho murmured, voice low. He leaned in, slow enough for Chan to feel every inch of closing distance, his breath warm against Chan’s cheek. “Did you like both of us?”
Chan didn’t answer with words.
His body moved on instinct — ears trembling, breath uneven — as he looped his arms around Minho’s neck. His fingers slipped into Minho’s nape, and the moment he felt Minho’s pulse jump beneath his touch, Chan’s courage surged.
He pulled Minho into a kiss.
Minho immediately responded, his hands going straight to Chan's waist, squeezing the flesh there and eliciting a small moan from him. Minho smiled into the kiss; Chan was just as sensitive to touch as Christopher.
Unlike Christopher's, Minho's kiss was firmer and more assertive, as if he wanted to make something clear — as if Chan already belonged to him.
Unlike Christopher, Chan's kiss was gentle, and Minho was able to take complete control without having to fight to see who was in charge. Not that Minho didn't like the way Christopher bit his lips and invaded his mouth with his tongue, but it was really cool to be able to do that with Chan.
When they broke apart from the kiss, a strand of saliva kept them connected. Minho tightened his grip on Chan's waist even more, burying his head in his neck. “I need to take it home soon. Before I do something stupid.”
“What do you want to do?” Chan asked. "Maybe I'll let you.”
Minho quickly stepped back, jumping to his feet. He felt his fangs aching, ready to bite Chan, his whole body screamed for him to do it. “That's enough. We need to go.”
Chan stood up, stomping his foot, his ears perking up in anger. "You just kissed me!” He shouted, pointing at Minho.
“I know!” Minho shouted back, "And if you keep acting like this, I won't be able to hold back anymore, and I swear I'll hold you down and mark you so badly that no one will doubt that you belong to me. To us.”
Chan groaned, rubbing his tights together. “I would like that…” He grabbed Minho's arm. "I wish you and Christopher would—”
Minho covered his mouth with his hand. "Shut up." He took a deep breath. "I'm going to take you back, and that's all that's going to happen today."
Chan wilted again. Not even if he offered himself on a platter would he get what he wanted that night. That doesn't mean he would give up, obviously not. He would get railed by those two wolves.
Going back without Chan felt wrong. Leaving him in the village was like leaving behind someone from his own pack, a piece of himself he wasn’t supposed to be separated from. Minho kept wondering if they would take proper care of his injuries, if they’d know how to keep him warm, comfortable, safe. Maybe he should’ve let Chan stay just one more day—just to make sure he would really be okay.
He sighed the moment he stepped inside the house. Christopher was sprawled on the sofa, grumbling, right until Minho dropped onto him like a weighted blanket.
“Do you think I should’ve let him stay?” Minho mumbled, burrowing into Christopher as if trying to hide in him.
“I think you did what you thought was best,” Christopher said, wrapping his arms around him. “Even though I did want him here.”
“So you do think I fucked up,” Minho whined dramatically, voice wobbly. “It’s just… weird, okay? Having someone who looks like you and he doesn’t even belong to me.” He rested his chin on Christopher’s chest. “What if someone tries to court him? That’s wrong.”
Christopher snorted. Minho was easily the most possessive person he’d ever met. “You’re ridiculous.”
“If you found someone who looked exactly like me, wouldn’t you lose your mind if they were with someone else?”
Christopher’s answer came out as a low growl. “Don’t ever say something like that again.”
“See? You’re exactly like me,” Minho said, biting his chest. “Oh, and I kissed Chan.”
“Was it good?” Christopher asked, grinning shamelessly. “Because when I kissed him, it was one of the best moments of my life. Second only to you, obviously.”
“It was so fucking good,” Minho groaned. “I should’ve kept him here.” He whined softly, then let his head drop onto Christopher’s chest, soothed by the steady drum of his heartbeat.
“Do you think you can actually handle it?” Christopher asked, threading his fingers through Minho’s hair. “Two of me isn’t exactly easy. And he’s already proven he’s stubborn as hell.”
“I was born to have two of you.” Minho smiled lazily. “And as for the stubbornness, affection and sex fix everything. He only threw a tantrum because he wanted dick.”
Christopher groaned, eyes darkening. “I’d give anything to have fucked him right there.”
Minho lifted his head, lips curling in a teasing bite. “Well… about fucking him, I’m not sure. But what do you think about fucking me right now?”
Christopher’s grin turned wicked as he flipped their bodies, settling Minho beneath him. “Your wish is my command.”
—
After returning home injured, Chan had been strictly forbidden from going out alone. Even a simple trip to the market now required an escort. To his dismay, his family chose Juyeon as his great “protector”—a choice that felt more like a thinly veiled trap. They wanted him to settle down, and Juyeon was their favorite candidate.
But Chan’s thoughts always drifted back to Minho and Christopher—their kisses, their hands, the warmth of their bodies against his. He ached for that again. He wanted to see them, to beg them to let him stay. But reaching the waterfall had become nearly impossible. How could he get there when he couldn’t take a single step outside without Juyeon or his family tailing him?
With a miserable sigh, Chan wrapped himself tightly in his bedsheets and curled in on himself until he looked small on the mattress.
“Are you okay, Channie?” his mother asked as she stepped inside. She perched on the edge of his bed. “You seem… unhappy.”
“I hate being trapped in here, Mom,” Chan whined. “I just want to go out.” He pulled the sheet over his face. “And Juyeon is annoying,” he added, voice muffled.
His mother giggled. “It’s not safe, Channie. You were hunted last time.” She tugged the sheet away from his face. “And Juyeon is just looking after you.”
“I didn’t ask him to take care of me,” Chan muttered, rolling his eyes.
“Hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me, young man.” She tapped him lightly. “You know your father wants to be a grandfather soon. And Juyeon is a great candidate.”
“Shouldn’t I get to choose who I want to be with? I’m already twenty-four.”
“Oh, you stubborn boy.” She laughed at his scowl. “Fine. Here’s the deal: I’ll convince your father to let you go out today. In exchange, you’ll go on a date with Juyeon. Can you manage that?”
Chan’s eyes lit up. If the wolves kept him there, he wouldn’t even need to go to the stupid date. “Okay. That’s fair.”
It was not fair. She hadn’t said a word about Juyeon accompanying him. If he was going to the date later, why couldn’t he go alone now? He should have known his father wouldn’t agree without something in return.
Going to the waterfall with Juyeon felt wrong—made him feel wrong. The familiar path that once filled him with excitement now only made his stomach twist. Even the hope of seeing Minho and Christopher again couldn’t lift his mood. Was this really his fate? To marry someone he didn’t even like?
“Wow! This place is beautiful, Chan!” Juyeon exclaimed. “Why have you never brought me here before?”
“Because it’s my place,” Chan murmured, voice dull and distant.
Juyeon sat at the edge of the water and dipped his feet into the icy stream. “This feels amazing.” He glanced back at Chan. “Come sit with me.”
Reluctantly, Chan joined him. He was already here—might as well try to enjoy something. The cold water, usually a source of comfort, soothed him for a moment. But then he caught his reflection and immediately thought of Christopher. Was it normal to miss someone he’d barely met this painfully? He exhaled a quiet, sad sigh.
“I really like you, Chan,” Juyeon said, drawing his attention. “Really, really.” He placed his hand over Chan’s, thumb brushing gently. “You’re so beautiful. We’re going to have the cutest little bunnies.”
When Juyeon’s hand lifted toward his face, Chan froze. He knew what was about to happen. Juyeon was going to kiss him—and it felt so wrong after kissing Minho and Christopher. Letting Juyeon touch him here felt like betrayal.
Juyeon leaned closer. The distance between them vanished until Chan could feel his warm breath on his skin.
A sudden, vicious growl shattered the moment.
Chan flinched and turned. A gray wolf stood between the trees, snarling—Minho.
Minho did not look pleased. His muzzle were curled back, fangs bared in a warning that made Juyeon stumble backward with a terrified squeak.
“Stay back, monster!” Juyeon yelled, voice shaking.
Minho stepped forward, the growl deepening. Juyeon trembled so badly a bead of sweat slid down his temple. This was the man his father expected to protect him? The irony was almost comedic.
When Minho lunged—not even fully, just enough to threaten—Juyeon bolted, leaving Chan behind without a second thought.
“That wasn’t very nice, Minho,” Chan said, rising to his feet and brushing the dirt off. “He was my date.”
Minho transformed back into his human body in an instant, looking at Chan as if he’d said something absurd. “Your date? He left you to die.”
“Because you scared him,” Chan pointed out.
“He was going to kiss you,” Minho growled through clenched teeth.
“And does that bother you?” Chan stepped closer until barely a sliver of air separated their bodies, the warmth between them rising sharply.
“Very much.” Minho’s hands slid around Chan’s waist, pulling him close, bodies aligning perfectly. “You’re mine too, Chan.”
Chan didn’t get the chance to answer. Minho’s mouth crashed into his, the kiss wild and consuming. His tongue was demanding, their teeth brushing, and Chan melted instantly. Heat bloomed inside him, familiar and overwhelming. God, he could kiss Minho forever and never tire of it.
Minho bit his lower lip, sharp and possessive.
“You’re coming home with me.”
The loud banging of the door made Christopher jump out of bed. “What the hell!?” He placed his hand on his chest, his heart pounding. “What happened, Minho?”
Minho had his eyebrows furrowed, his fists clenched, and his scent made it clear that he wasn't happy. Chan stepped out from behind him. "Hi, Chris!" Chan said cheerfully.
“Hey..." His eyes returned to Minho. "What happened to make you so angry?”
“I was on a date.” Chan responded, giggling.
“Date?” Christopher felt a growing discomfort in his chest. Now he understood why Minho had arrived like that. “Was it okay? Did you have fun?”
“Does it matter? He shouldn't even be on a date to begin with.” Minho huffed, throwing himself onto the bed.
“I didn't want to go on a date." Chan said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "My father wanted me to.”
“And you couldn't have said no?" Minho asked, the ironic tone escaping his lips.
“I wanted to see you again. They weren't letting me go out alone because of what happened last time.” Chan spoke sweetly, making his best pitiful face.
Christopher sat down beside him, hugging him from the side. "See, love? You were rude for no reason."
Chan snuggled against Christopher, smiling happily at being there. Christopher was strong, and he smelled so good…
“Are you going to let him stay here now, honey? Or are you going to send him back to his date?” Christopher teased, squeezing Chan even tighter in his embrace.
Minho sat down, his heart warming at the sight of Chan and Christopher together, almost making him forget why he was angry. Almost. “"If it's up to me, he'll never see that idiot again.”
Chan felt his body shiver and his tail wagging. Minho was being possessive with him, and it excited him so much. He wanted Minho to mark him, bite his whole body, and make it clear that he has an owner. He wanted the two of them to claim him and never let him leave again. Without Chan noticing, lost in his far from pure thoughts, Minho hugged him from the other side.
When the icy tip of Minho's nose brushed against his neck, Chan couldn't suppress an embarrassed groan. "What are you thinking about, Chan?”
“I—” He swallowed hard. "Nothing!”
Minho placed a hand on Chan's thigh, moving dangerously close to where the heat was taking hold. “Are you sure? Your scent is different. Sweeter.”
Soon Christopher's hand was on his other thigh, as close as Minho's. Chan shifted involuntarily, wanting them to touch him there. “You can tell us, bunny.”
Then Minho's tongue reached his neck, licking it, his sharp teeth grazing the skin there afterward. Chan tilted his head, offering more of his neck, Minho hummed contentedly, licking and nibbling all over his skin. Chan whimpered softly, his eyes closed shut, already overwhelmed by all the sensations in his body.
“You are so sensitive, baby.” Christopher whispered in her ear, his hand moving even higher, meeting Chan's already wet pussy. "Fuck, you're wet for us."
Chan opened his eyes slightly, looking at Christopher. "Kiss?" he asked softly.
Christopher gently cupped his face, bringing their lips together. Chan moaned against the kiss, parting his lips to receive his tongue. It was too much, Minho marking and abusing the skin of his neck while Christopher explored his mouth with his tongue — he didn't even know if he would survive having both of them fucking him.
The two moved away from him, making him cry over the loss of contact. Then, Minho held his chin, exchanging a glance with Christopher, who quickly understood his intentions.
Before Chan could complain about the lack of touches, both of them moved towards his lips. Chan's mind went blank, clouded only by the sensation of having two tongues inside his mouth — of being claimed in that way. Minho was tougher and more possessive, his tongue almost as if fighting for space in his mouth; Christopher was sweet and calm.
Chan felt a little drool escaping from his mouth, running down his chin. Christopher and Minho's hands explored his body, squeezing him in every possible place — would it be possible to come just with that? Because Chan felt that way.
As they moved away, the three of them catching their breath, Minho licked the drool that was running down Chan's chin. "Fucking perfect.”
“Can you take both of us, darling?” Christopher asked, showering Chan's jaw with kisses.
“Yes. Yes, please." Chan whined.
Minho picked him up, sitting him on his lap, so his back was to him and he was facing Christopher. "Are you sure?” Minho asked.
Chan only slightly parted his legs; he didn't trust himself to say anything without moaning, so he would show her. His pussy was already leaking slick, clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.
“I think he is sure.” Christopher grinned mischievously.
Christopher then took a finger to Chan's vagina, inserting it — his body arched against Minho's, a whimper escaping his lips. Minho caressed his hip, while Christopher began to move his finger. When Christopher thought that was enough, he inserted another finger, beginning to scissor him. Chan cried in discomfort, squirming in Minho's lap.
“That's enough. I need you…” Chan complained softly, his voice drawn out with pleasure.
“It's not enough, love." Christopher inserted another finger. "You need to be wide open enough to take both of us.”
Chan wriggled against Christopher's fingers, but the discomfort of not yet being filled by their cocks lingered. “I don't want it anymore... Just fuck me, please."
“We don't want to hurt you.” Minho kissed the top of his head, his hand moving from his hip to his nipples, beginning to tease them.
Chan groaned loudly; his nipples were a particularly sensitive area. His urge to cry grew; it was unfair that he still hadn't received what he wanted.
“I can take it.” He whimpered, trying to pull away from Christopher's fingers. "I swear.”
“Stop.” Christopher ordered seriously, his tone firm and gruff.
“If I can't take it, you can force me to, I don't care. Just please… I need it…”
Christopher looked at Minho, whose gaze was just as lustful as his own. It was obvious that it was also difficult for them to control themselves, and with Chan asking like that, it was almost impossible to stay sane. He removed his fingers from Chan's pussy, slick dripping down them and also down his thighs. He had done a good job widening Chan, he knew that, he just didn't know if it would be enough.
“If it hurts at any time, you let us know, okay?”
Chan nodded. Minho then positioned him on his lap, aligning his cock with Chan's entrance, lowering him carefully until it was fully inside. Chan groaned as he was finally filled, his head falling back onto Minho's shoulder.
Minho stood still, stroking Chan's thigh while giving him time to adjust to the intrusion. But it wasn't long before Chan was stretching his arms out to Christopher, trying to pull him closer. “I want you too. Both of you.”
Christopher held his legs, spreading them a little wider to be able to slip between them, then aligning his hard cock with his hole. His cock was greedily sucked inside; it was fucking tight thanks to Minho's cock that was already there. Chan cried out loud, being stretched in an unbelievable way — and it felt too fucking good.
The wolves began to distribute licks across Chan's shoulders, chest and back, in an attempt to help him get used to it. Chan welcomed them warmly, his pussy squeezing them in an incredible way. Chan was the one who started twerking against the cocks. "You can move, please.”
They began to move in a messy, synchronized way. Chan clung to Christopher's neck, moaning loudly in his ear. Minho held him tightly by the hip, his claws scratching him slightly — Chan had never felt so good in his entire life. Chan also moved against their thrusts, swaying his hips, savoring to the fullest being filled by the two best cocks of his life, which coincidentally belonged to the most beautiful people he had ever known.
Chan felt almost like a helpless bunny being devoured by two wolves — but in the best possible way.
“Want more, please…” Chan whined, rising and sitting down in one swift motion, making the dildos go even deeper. "Please, fill me with your cum—."
Minho growled loudly behind him, unable to hold back any longer and finally sinking his fangs into Chan's shoulder. The taste of blood filled his mouth, his pupils dilating, and his cock trembling inside Chan, who groaned in a sob. Minho stepped back, licking the blood that was dripping. "We're going to fill you up so much that you'll never be able to get rid of us."
Their thrusts became faster, more brutal. Chan could only keep his mouth open and let out moans. Christopher's thrust follows Minho's, and the two seem willing to give Chan what he wants.
Christopher groaned, his hands bruising Chan’s waist. “So tight… gods, he’s squeezing the life out of me.”
Chan’s nails raked down Christopher’s chest, his head tossing back against Minho’s shoulder. “Please—please—fill me—both of you, please, I need it, I need your pups—”
The plea shattered what little control the wolves had left.
Minho gave a brutal thrust, his hips snapping in deep, the wet slap of flesh filling the air alongside Minho’s broken cries. “You want us to breed you?”
“Yes! Yesyesyes—” Chan sobbed, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, his whole body begging — his pussy clenching hard against them.
Christopher was the first to cum, his knot gripping deep inside Chan, thick spurts of his cum filling his womb. “Fuck…” He groaned, bending to bite Chan's other shoulder.
Chan screamed, the feeling of being bitten and knotted pushing him over. His orgasm ripped through him, vision going white as his body clamped down, milking them both desperately.
Minho came next, his nails digging into Chan's hip skin as his knot swelled, his cum filling him deep as well.
Christopher reached up, wiping Chan’s tear-streaked cheeks, his thumb pressing into the bunny’s swollen lips. “So perfect… ours to fill, ours to claim. You won’t be able to walk after this.”
Chan’s body shook violently, every nerve alight, his belly hot and full, stuffed so completely by his wolves that he could barely breathe — but the bliss on his face was unmistakable.
“You feel okay?” Minho asked, resting his head on his shoulder. "We knotted you well.” He chuckled. "Can you move?”
Chan tried to move, groaning as the knots shifted inside him. "No— 'm stuck.” He whined, his hands going to the bulge on his belly. “So full… It's good.”
Christopher gave him a quick kiss. "You were perfect, my love. You took both of us very well.”
Chan smiled contentedly. "You— can we sleep like this?”
Minho frowned, confused. "Like this how, darling?”
“Knotted…” Chan spoke softly, embarrassment taking over. He thought they would understand right away and he wouldn't have to explain.
Christopher laughed. "You really like being full, don't you?"
“Just for you…" Chan pouted.
“Whatever you want, sweetie.” Minho said, kissing his cheek.
Chan let his body fall against Minho's, enveloped in his arms. Closing his eyes, he began to enjoy the caresses he received—a soft moan occasionally escaping his lips as the knots trembled inside him; a reminder of how full and happy he was there.