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Chapter Text

The Celestial Kingdom shimmered like a dream carved from starlight. Its towers rose impossibly high, made of white marble and glass that caught the sun and scattered it into rainbows. The air smelled of vanilla and soft clouds, the ground pulsed with magic so pure it hummed beneath every step. Nothing dark dared exist here.

The sky above the Celestial Kingdom was painted in gold and soft lavender, glowing as if it, too, bowed to the radiance of its prince. Even among the divine, Felix was different.

He wasn't just beautiful. He was otherworldly. Ethereal. Made of sunlight and stardust. His hair, golden and soft, fell in gentle waves over his shoulders, catching the light like silk spun from the sun itself. His skin was luminous and flawless, freckled in the most delicate way—as if the stars had kissed his face one by one. His eyes were impossibly large and a piercing sky blue, framed by thick lashes that cast soft shadows when he blinked.

And he was always smiling. Felix radiated joy the way the sun radiated warmth—effortlessly, endlessly. He laughed easily, walked like he was floating, and seemed to carry the peace of the heavens in every breath.

But... his voice. It was the one thing that didn't match him. Low. Deep. Smooth like velvet and thunder, it poured from his throat like something stolen from a darker world—an unexpected contrast to the lightness of his being. People often blinked the first time they heard him speak, stunned by the richness that rumbled from such an angelic face.

"Felix!" came the playful voice of Jisung, jogging up the spiral stairs with I.N. and Hyunjin behind him. "We've been looking all over for you. Don't tell me you've been thinking again."

Felix laughed, light and melodic, like wind chimes in spring. "Just enjoying the view," he said, turning to greet his lifelong friends. "Can't a prince admire his kingdom before the chaos begins?"

"Chaos?" Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. Even among angels, he was nearly ethereal—sharp features, silver-blonde hair, and an elegance that made flowers bloom in his path. "What are you not telling us?"

I.N., ever curious, leaned in. "Wait, is it true? You're actually going to the Forest Kingdom?"

Felix sighed, nodding. "Yes. Father wants me to go with him and the Celestial Crown at the Summit. He's worried. He wants the Forest Kingdom with us. He says if war comes... we'll need allies..."

Jisung scowled. "Because of those demons from the Underworld."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. "Of course it's them. It's always them. I don't understand why demons even exist."

"They don't live, they infest," I.N. added with a scowl. "They take and break everything they touch. They ruin the balance."

"Maybe we should just burn the entrance to the Underworld and call it a day," Jisung suggested with a wicked grin.

Felix looked at him. "That's not far from what Father says."

"They're disgusting," I.N. spat. "Have you seen what they look like? I have never seen one, but I have read a lot about them in the books of the celestial library. Horns. Fangs. Blood-colored eyes. Claws like beasts. No beauty, no grace, no soul."

Hyunjin's wings fluttered in irritation. "They're always stirring up conflict. Those ugly creatures..."

"Demons never leave things in peace." I.N. added bitterly. "All they know is destruction. Fire and blood and pain. That's what they breathe."

"I don't even understand why they exist," Jisung. spat. "Why did the gods create demons at all? It's like throwing poison into perfection."

Hyunjin scoffed. "They ruin everything they touch. Their magic corrupts, their land is dying, their hearts are black. There's no beauty in them—only rot."

"Maybe if they all just... disappeared," Jisung muttered, "the world would finally be clean."

Felix didn't smile this time. His gaze turned colder, like a storm brewing beneath soft skies. "They will," he said softly. "When I'm king, the Underworld will fall."

The three boys went silent, exchanging glances before Jisung smirked.

"Let me guess who they'll send to the summit... Their Crown Prince. What's his name again? Bang something?"

"Bang Chan," I.N. said. "The heir to the Inferno."

Felix turned toward them, his blue eyes sharpening like a blade.

"I hope he doesn't come," he said. "Because I swear on the stars—if I ever meet that filthy demon, I'll end him. Or worse."

The others looked at him, stunned into silence for a beat.

Then Jisung broke into laughter. "You? End the great Prince of Hell?"

"He'd probably beg you to," Hyunjin smirked.

"He probably looks like a gargoyle that crawled out of a fire pit," I.N. added. "All charred and crusty."

Felix laughed now too, though it was colder than usual.

"I'll chain him in the deepest cell of the Celestial Tower for the rest of his miserable life."

They all burst out laughing, even Hyunjin, who was usually the composed one.

"Can you imagine?" Jisung said through his laughter. "The Crown Prince of Hell, in chains, begging for mercy from Felix of the Heaven?"

"He wouldn't even be worth the chains," Hyunjin added with a graceful shrug.

"Let him rot," I.N. said. "Let them all rot."

Felix let the breeze pass through his golden hair, his heart calm, his smile serene. But his eyes held something sharp. Focused.

"I'll make sure the Underworld ends with me," he whispered. "I'll bring light to this world... Even if I have to burn the Underworld down to do it."

And far below, deep in the blackened veins of the earth, a different prince was preparing for the very same meeting. The one that would change everything.

________________________________

The Underworld was not what stories said. It was not chaos. Not brimstone. Not rot.

It was heat and twilight. It was rivers of warm, rose-gold water that glittered under a sunless sky.
It was stone forests blooming with gold-leafed trees, where glowing fruit swayed gently in hot, fragrant air. It was vast caverns carved by time and magic, their ceilings lined with glowing crystals that shimmered like constellations.

And above it all stood the Fire Palace — a wonder of black marble and crimson glass, perched on the edge of a cliff where waterfalls of liquid light crashed into flame-colored seas.

This was the home of Prince Bang Chan. The heir to the Throne of Embers.

He stood at the edge of one of the palace's highest terraces, the wind warm against his face, the sky a canvas of eternal dusk — streaks of orange, pink, and violet curling like smoke above him. Far below, birds made of fire and ash soared over the glowing waters, their cries sharp and beautiful.

Standing alone on the highest balcony of the royal fortress, he stared out into the firelit horizon. His cape shifted with the wind. His jaw was sharp, clenched tight. His hair, brown with streaks of copper from the firelight, curled slightly at the ends, falling just over his brows. His soft hair fell across his forehead in a way that almost brushed his warm hazel eyes. His skin was pale like porcelain, unmarked by war or corruption. No one would ever guess he was the heir to Hell.

He was handsome—too handsome, some whispered. He was sexy. His eyes were warm in color but cold in expression, like autumn fire trapped in ice. His mouth always showed two dimples when he smiled. His lips were full and plump. His posture never slouched. His presence carried centuries of fury held in perfect silence.

He wore elegance like armor. And pain like perfume.

"Your Highness," came a voice behind him. "The king awaits you in the war chamber."

Chan didn't turn around.

"Let him wait," he murmured.

The servant hesitated, bowed, and left without another word.

Alone again, Chan let out a slow breath. He didn't want war. He never had. But here, wanting something softer was dangerous. Here, mercy was weakness—and weakness got people killed.

Still, in the silence, the part of him he kept buried tried to crawl to the surface. That soft part. That fragile thing inside him that ached when he saw his soldiers return wounded. That cracked when a demon child cried from hunger. That burned when the council scoffed at his plans to build safer roads, cleaner water, stronger shelters. He hated this part of himself. The soft part. The one that got quiet in the middle of the chaos and wondered if peace was possible. The part that dreamed of rebuilding, not destroying.

They thought he was soft. And they were right. He just didn't show it. Chan didn't want to conquer. He wanted to protect. His kingdom was crumbling beneath old laws and ancient hatred, and he wanted to fix it.

But no one cared what he wanted. They cared only that he win. And so, the prince of demons became what they needed: a quiet weapon with a crown.

He left the balcony and moved down the hall, passing through vaulted corridors lined with flickering torches and statues of long-dead kings. Their eyes watched him—stone and cruel.

As he approached the war room, the doors opened on their own, heavy with old magic.

The king sat at the head of the obsidian table, clawed fingers steepled, his horns crowned with blood-red jewels. Around him, generals and advisors murmured over maps and intelligence scrolls.

"Son," the king said, voice gravel and flame. "We leave for the Forest Kingdom at dawn."

Chan stepped inside, silent.

"This alliance must fall to us," the king continued. "The Celestials will be there, trying to twist the Forest to their side. We will not allow it."

Chan's eyes narrowed. "You want me to speak to them?"

"I want you to outshine them," the king said. "Charm their diplomats. Frighten their soldiers. If the prince of Hell stands with calm fire, they'll listen."

Chan almost laughed. "What makes you think they'll listen to a demon?"

"They'll listen if you give them no other choice."

The room fell quiet. Chan stepped to the table, studying the Forest Kingdom's map. It was the only neutral kingdom left—a wild, green land untouched by war. If either side won its favor, the balance of power would shift.

"Do we know who the Celestials are sending?" he asked, tracing the path to the summit with his gloved finger.

The king's lip curled. "Their king and their crown prince."

Chan paused. He'd heard the name whispered like prophecy: Felix. Son of the Sky King. Golden child of the divine. The supposed embodiment of light and joy.

He didn't know what Felix looked like. He'd never seen a portrait, never heard his voice, never cared to. But the name alone made his stomach twist. Angels, to him, were the enemy in silk—sweet smiles hiding sharpened daggers. Born above the clouds and bred to hate all things dark, all things different. They called his people filth. Said demons were mistakes. Called his land unnatural.

And Felix was their heir? Chan clenched his jaw.

"I'll handle it," he said. "They are wrong if they think I'll let those happy little butterflies win?"

His father chuckled, voice like cracking stone. "You mean the angels? Let them flutter. Once war breaks, they'll all burn. We'll cut off their wings and use them to light our fires."

Chan's jaw tensed. "I'll do more than that."

He walked to the throne, fists clenched.

"I'll kill them. All of them. Especially the golden heir. The pretty little prince. Felix."

He spat the name like poison.

"I'll drag him into the pit myself. I'll make him scream. I'll make him beg. I'll break him until there's nothing left but ash—then kill him slowly."

The king smiled, but his tone sharpened. "Control yourself, Chan. You'll see him in the Forest Kingdom. I don't need you starting a war before we're ready."

Chan rolled his eyes, running a hand through his dark hair. "I promise not to kill him on the first day."

His father gave him a long look. "That temper of yours—"

"I'll behave," Chan said, too sweetly. "Sort of."

Chan turned on his heel, cape flaring behind him. He would go. He would wear the crown. He would smile when needed, threaten when required. But if he met the Celestial prince— If this Felix dared look at him like he was less than alive—

Chan would make him regret it. He didn't want war. But he wouldn't bow to heaven either.

______________________________

The sun over the Celestial Kingdom had begun to dip, painting the skies in watercolor hues — soft violets, glowing gold, and streaks of pale pink that kissed the high towers with divine light.

In the highest wing of the palace, where the floors were made of floating marble and the wind sang through silk curtains, Prince Felix stood in his chambers, folding his clothes for the journey ahead. His long golden hair shimmered in the sunset. His delicate fingers moved quickly, but his thoughts were far away.

He had never left the kingdom before. Never breathed air that wasn't blessed. Never walked ground that wasn't kissed by light. The Forest Kingdom would be his first taste of the outside world. He was nervous. But more than that — he was determined.

The door creaked softly behind him, and before he even turned, he knew who it was.

"Felix," his mother's gentle voice called.

"Mother," he said with a bright smile, straightening immediately. "I'm almost done packing."

Queen Lina stepped inside — graceful, radiant, her white gown flowing like mist around her. Her wings glowed softly behind her, faint and translucent. Her presence always brought calm.

"I know you are," she said, coming closer. "But I needed to see you before you go."

Felix's smile softened. "You're worried."

"I'm your mother. I'll always worry."

She reached out and brushed his golden hair behind his ear, fingertips lingering against his cheek.

"You're going into a world that doesn't know peace the way we do. Into a place where anger grows like vines, and kindness can be mistaken for weakness."

"I'll be strong," Felix promised. "Father and I'll make you proud. I'll speak with the Forest King and his council. I'll convince them that our alliance is the only way forward. I won't fail."

Eunha nodded slowly. "That's what I raised you to do. But still..." Her voice softened further. "Be careful of them."

Felix tilted his head. "You mean the Forest people?"

"No." Her eyes darkened for just a moment. "The ones from the Underworld."

His smile faltered.

"You may think they're just like us — people in another form. But they were born of fire, not light. They come from pain, not peace. They don't understand love the way we do. And they'll do anything to take what they want."

Felix swallowed, nodding.

"Don't let them tempt you," she said, firmer now. "Not with words. Not with power. Not with beauty. Especially not with beauty."

"I won't," he whispered. "I swear."

She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing the freckles on his cheeks. "That's my boy."

"I'll make you proud," he said again.

"You already do," she smiled. "But when this is all over... when peace returns... I want you to find your celestial soulmate, Felix. The one the stars wrote for you."

Felix blushed, lips curling. "You always say that."

"Because it's true. One day, you'll see them. You'll feel it — like your soul's been found."

She leaned her forehead against his and whispered, "And then, you'll begin your true life. You'll start your own family. Pregnancy in the kingdom of heaven can be carried out by male and female gender since we are angels. And when that day comes..." She pulled back, teary-eyed, smiling brightly. "When I see you carrying your first child in that little belly of yours... I'll know I've done my job as your mother."

Felix laughed, red blooming on his cheeks. "Mother!"

"What? I mean it!" she giggled softly. "You'll be glowing. Even more than usual. And I'll be the happiest angel in the skies."

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, pressing his face into her shoulder.

"I'll give you so many grandbabies," he murmured, eyes closed.

"I'll spoil every single one of them," she whispered back. "Now go with your father and make the world love you."

He nodded, breathing in the familiar scent of rosewater and sunrise. Tomorrow, he would descend into unknown lands. But tonight, he was still just Felix — the boy who promised his mother the stars.

______________________________

Deep inside the Fire Palace, in a quiet hidden garden of black roses and whispering streams, Chan found the three people he trusted with his life.

Minho, calm and sharp, leaned lazily against the edge of the fountain, tossing pebbles into the glowing water. Changbin, strong, solid, and too loud for his own good, was pacing back and forth with a crooked grin and half a plan to fight something. Seungmin, the sarcastic voice of reason, sat cross-legged on the stone bench, his expression unreadable as he twirled a flame between his fingers like a toy.

They were demons in name, yes — born in fire, forged in shadow. They were beautiful in a way that had nothing to do with perfection. Real beauty. Dark, fierce, alive. And they were the only ones who knew the truth about Chan's heart.

They were the ones who'd followed him into the villages after storms, helping him repair shattered homes before the royal guards noticed. The ones who carried food with him in the dead of night to families too proud to beg. The ones who'd held him in silence when the cruelty of their world became too heavy to carry alone.

They didn't ask him to be a king. They let him be a boy with too much love and no safe place to put it.

"You're always late," Seungmin added.

"You're late, were you jerking off?," Minho asked with a smile, not looking up.

"Are you emotionally prepared to spend a week in the Forest Kingdom with your charming father and a bunch of nobles who smell like burnt lavender?" Changbin asked with a grin.

Chan rolled his eyes. "Remind me why I talk to any of you."

"Because we're the only people who like you," Minho said. "Barely."

Chan huffed a laugh, sitting down beside them, cloak falling around his boots like blood-soaked silk. He stretched his fingers and looked up at the soft glow of the fireflies swirling above the garden.

"Big meeting," Seungmin said after a beat. "With the Forest Royals. Real political. Very tense."

"Yeah," Chan muttered.

"They say he's going to be there," Changbin said, eyes sharp.

Minho snorted. "The Sugar Angel himself."

Seungmin dropped the flame in his hand with a dramatic sigh. "Prince Felix of the Skittle Skies."

Chan arched a brow. "Do you guys ever take anything seriously?"

"Of course," Seungmin said. "We seriously hate him."

"Seriously hope you ruin his life... or his ass... you decide," Minho added.

"Seriously think angels are the most disgusting creatures in existence," Changbin finished. "All shiny teeth and fake purity. Floating around like glitter pigeons."

Chan smirked. "Glitter pigeons?"

"You know I'm right."

"They live in clouds made of spun sugar," Seungmin muttered, disgusted. "Drink golden milk. Bathe in stardust. Their farts probably smell like cinnamon."

"Oh, and the way they talk," Minho said, mocking a high-pitched voice: "Peace and harmony! Love and light! Let's ignore every war we've started and just smile about it."

"They've done more damage to the world than we ever have," Seungmin said, his tone sharper now. "But everyone worships them because they sparkle in the sunlight."

"Fucking frauds," Changbin growled.

Chan stayed quiet for a long second, staring at the flickering flame in the lantern near the bench.

"You're going to see him," Minho said, more serious now. "The prince of all things pastel and pure. Felix the Radiant. The Celestial Baby."

"What's the plan?" Seungmin asked, voice low.

"What are you going to do," Changbin said, eyes locked on him, "when you finally see his face?"

Chan lifted his gaze.

"I promised my father I wouldn't kill him on the first day."

A pause. Then all three burst into laughter.

"Generous of you," Minho said.

"You're a true diplomat," Seungmin added with a grin.

"World peace right there," said Changbin.

Chan smirked, but his voice dropped as he continued.

"But I'll end him. Eventually. I don't care how pretty his halo is or how shiny his lies are. If he stands in the way of our future..."

He looked up, eyes like coals beneath the dusk.

"I'll burn that angel out of the sky."

Silence. Then the others nodded, solemn now.

Minho stood and clapped Chan on the back. "Then go make us proud."

"Don't let the light blind you," Changbin said. "They say he's got the face of a saint and the heart of a spoiled brat."

"I bet his voice is squeaky," Seungmin muttered.

Chan smiled coldly. "Whatever he is... I'll find out soon."

He turned, cloak swaying behind him, the weight of war already pressing against his shoulders. He didn't know what Felix looked like. Didn't know the sound of his voice or the color of his smile.
But he knew one thing. The world wasn't big enough for both of them.

Chapter Text

The air shimmered above the valley like a dream spun from light. The summit of the Three Realms was set deep in the Forest Kingdom — a vast circle of ancient stone, wrapped in green vines and hidden beneath a ceiling of emerald leaves. The forest was alive here, wild and whispering, but today it held its breath.

The first to arrive broke through the clouds like a vision of heaven itself. A fleet of winged white horses descended from the sky, their hooves leaving trails of gold in the air. At the center of them rode King Elias of the Celestial Realm, regal and sharp-eyed, his long ivory cloak flowing like silk in the wind. Beside him, on a horse of silver feathers and glowing hooves, rode Prince Felix — the angel of light.

He sat with perfect posture, draped in a sleeveless white silk tunic tucked into pearl-lined trousers, his golden hair brushing his shoulders. His skin glowed in the soft light, and his blue eyes sparkled like a quiet sky after rain. He looked serene. Untouchable. Unshakable.

Behind them, the royal guard rode with spears carved of crystal, armor forged from the stars themselves. Everything about them glowed — not blinding, but pure.

The Forest King, already waiting by the great tree gates, stepped forward with a kind smile. He was older than Elias, his beard streaked with grey and moss green. His crown was woven from bark and jade, his robes stitched with living leaves.

“King Elias,” he greeted with a respectful bow.

“King Daewon,” Elias nodded in return, dismounting in one graceful movement. “You honor us with your welcome.”

“I honor peace,” Daewon said, eyes flickering toward Felix as he dismounted too. “And may I say, the prince has grown into a vision worthy of the heavens.”

Felix smiled politely, lowering his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty. It’s a pleasure to stand under your trees.”

Daewon chuckled softly. “You speak like a poet.”

Two young women appeared behind the Forest King, stepping forward shyly. One with sleek dark hair tied in braids and a confident stance; the other with blonde hair and soft eyes and pink-toned waves that fell past her shoulders like petals.

“My daughters,” Daewon said. “Princess Jennie and Princess Rosé.”

“Your Highnesses,” Felix greeted with a dazzling smile.

Both girls smiled back, cheeks flushing.

Jennie spoke first. “We’ve heard so much about the Celestial Prince.”

“Have you?” Felix tilted his head slightly, playful. “I hope only the good things.”

Rosé giggled. “Only the best. You’re more radiant in person.”

“Rosé,” Jennie whispered under her breath, nudging her.

“I mean it!”

Elias stepped in, exchanging nods with the princesses before turning back to Daewon. “The journey was swift. We opened a temporary breach in the eastern skies. A shortcut, you could say.”

“Ah,” Daewon smiled knowingly. “The famous Celestial gates. Efficient.”

“Necessary,” Elias replied. “We don’t enjoy being late.”

“And yet here you are first,” Daewon said warmly. “That deserves a reward. Perhaps a tour?”

He looked toward his daughters.

“Why don’t you two show Prince Felix the gardens and river paths? Let him see our kingdom through younger eyes…. And come back here in 30 minutes.”

Jennie and Rosé nodded immediately.

Felix bowed to his father. “With your permission?”

Elias gave a single nod. “Stay close to the princesses.”

“Always,” Felix replied.

And just like that, the prince and the princesses disappeared into the woods — golden hair, rose-pink gowns, and laughter weaving between the trees like silk thread.

___________________________

The Forest Kingdom was alive with color — towering trees with leaves in shades of copper and green, soft glowing mushrooms blooming near roots, and flowers that opened slightly as they passed, as if bowing in respect. The path beneath their feet was smooth, carved from ancient bark, and birds with crystal-like feathers sang from above.

Jennie walked ahead with relaxed confidence, brushing aside hanging vines. Rosé stayed at Felix’s side, her gaze occasionally flickering toward him in curiosity.

“So,” Jennie began, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk, “is this your first time outside the skies, Your Highness?”

Felix nodded, his golden hair swaying gently in the breeze. “It is. First time walking through a real forest, first time breathing air not filtered through clouds.”

Rosé’s eyes lit up with wonder. “Never seen trees like these before?”

“No like these,” he replied, brushing his fingers against a glowing leaf. “Everything in the sky floats. It’s all soft and perfect. Beautiful, yes, but… sterile. This place has a pulse.”

Jennie smiled. “We like to think so. The forest breathes with us.”

“It’s strange,” Felix mused. “There’s a kind of… warmth here. Like something’s alive under the surface.”

“There is,” Rosé said gently. “Magic runs through the roots.”

Felix chuckled. “No wonder your kingdom has lasted so long.”

They continued deeper into the woods, the canopy above dancing with sunset light. Small fireflies flickered near their feet, and the air smelled of fresh earth and blooming herbs.

Jennie turned to him again. “What’s it like up there? In the Celestial Kingdom?”

Felix paused, thinking. “Clean. Golden. Peaceful on the surface. Everyone smiles. Everyone shines.”

“But?” Rosé asked, raising a brow.

He looked at her, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “Sometimes I wonder if all that light hides too much.”

Jennie hummed. “That’s… honest.”

Felix’s smile returned, though this one was smaller. “You asked.”

They arrived at a clearing where a spring bubbled into a small, glowing pool. Felix knelt to touch the water, surprised at how warm it was.

“It feels like home,” he said softly. “But grounded.”

Rosé knelt beside him. “The forest heats it naturally. We bathe here in summer.”

“You’re lucky,” Felix whispered.

There was a moment of silence — not awkward, but thoughtful. The wind whispered through the leaves.

Then Jennie broke it. “Your kingdom is here for the summit… but what about you, Prince Felix? What do you hope to gain?”

Felix stood slowly, brushing the water from his fingers. “I hope for an alliance. For safety. For strength if war returns.”

Rosé hesitated. “Do you believe war is inevitable?”

“With the Underworld still breathing?” Felix scoffed lightly. “Of course. They exist to ruin balance. They destroy for pleasure.”

The girls exchanged a look.

Jennie’s tone shifted — careful, calm. “We… don’t really know what they’re like. None of us have ever seen them.”

Felix blinked. “You’ve never encountered a demon?”

Rosé shook her head. “The Forest Kingdom hasn’t had contact with them in over a century. We’ve heard stories… but they’re just that. Stories.”

“They’re not stories,” Felix said firmly. “They’re chaos in flesh. Their prince — Bang Chan — is said to be the worst of them.”

Jennie was quiet, then said diplomatically, “We’ve never met him.”

“Neither have I,” Felix admitted, eyes narrowing. “But I’ve read enough. Heard enough.”

Rosé stepped a little ahead. “My father says judgment should be based on action, not bloodline.”

“Your father is wise,” Felix replied, though his tone didn’t soften. “But I’ve seen what they’ve done to border realms. I’ve seen burnt villages and corrupted lands. Their kind shouldn’t walk free.”

Jennie said nothing. Rosé simply looked forward, her face unreadable.

After a few paces of silence, Rosé turned to him with a small smile. “Maybe… that’s why you’re here. To see for yourself.”

Felix paused at that. Was that possible? Was there anything a demon could show him that would change what he knew?

He shook the thought from his mind. “Perhaps,” he said coolly, “but I don’t plan on being impressed.”

The girls shared another quiet glance but chose not to argue. Their place was not to challenge a prince — not yet.

“We need to come back,” Jennie said softly. “Father told us that we need to be present for the Underworld King’s arrival…. But if you want to stay, you can do it. If you follow that path, it will take you to the high cliffs before sunset. The view will change your life.”

Felix nodded, silent, the wind catching the edge of his cloak as the trees ahead began to thin.

_____________________________

The sky shifted — warm twilight hues turning briefly darker, shadows stretching over the tree line like silk threads. A gust of wind swept through the forest clearing as a low rumble echoed from above.

From between the clouds, a fleet of dragons descended — sleek, winged beasts in tones of obsidian and deep ash, their scales glinting under the fading sun like polished stone. Their wings flapped slowly but with incredible force, disturbing leaves and petals as they landed with precision in the wide courtyard of the Forest Palace.

At the head of the formation, a single silver dragon gleamed like moonlight in motion — sharp, elegant, and utterly unlike the rest.

Riding it was a figure cloaked in black and crimson, posture proud and presence magnetic. Crown Prince Bang Chan, heir to the Underworld, dismounted with feline grace, boots hitting the ground with barely a sound. His dark hair was tousled by the wind, his sharp jawline set in calm confidence.

His eyes — deep brown, almost golden in the right light — scanned the foreign kingdom without fear, only quiet curiosity. Behind him landed his father, the King of the Underworld, whose gaze was stern but respectful as he stepped forward to greet their host.

The King of the Forest welcomed them at the palace entrance with arms open, a serene smile painted across his face.

“Your Majesty,” the Forest King said, bowing slightly. “And Crown Prince Bang Chan. We’re honored by your presence.”

The Underworld King nodded in return. “Thank you for the invitation. We come in peace, for discussion and diplomacy.”

“Then peace is what you shall find,” replied the Forest King warmly. He turned to his daughters, both standing at his side in gowns the color of deep moss and twilight flowers.

“These are my daughters — Jennie and Rosé.”

Jennie curtsied gracefully, and Rosé gave a soft smile. But as their eyes landed on Chan, both young women froze for a heartbeat. This was not the demon they had imagined. Not the monstrous figure from storybooks or battle-scarred scrolls.

Bang Chan stood tall in a form-fitting dark tunic and boots, shoulders broad, gaze intense — undeniably powerful, but also undeniably beautiful. There was a quiet danger about him, yes — but it was laced with something far more complicated. Jennie blinked rapidly. Rosé bit the inside of her cheek, hiding the faintest blush. Chan didn’t seem to notice — or, more likely, didn’t care.

Behind him, the silver dragon gave a low groan, its massive head dipping close to Chan’s shoulder. It whined softly, then nudged him, almost like a protest.

Chan chuckled quietly and turned to his father. “Lunarys doesn’t like staying grounded for long.”

The Forest King tilted his head. “Will she need to be tethered?”

“No,” Chan answered calmly, brushing a hand over the dragon’s jaw. “She prefers freedom. If it’s acceptable, I’d like to release her into one of the clearings nearby. She’ll stay close and out of trouble.”

The king hesitated. “Will she be safe for our people?”

Chan offered a small, wry smile. “Lunarys only attacks if I command her to. Otherwise, she’s gentler than she looks.”

Lunarys gave a soft huff, as if agreeing.

After a pause, the Forest King nodded. “Very well. Let her stretch her wings.”

Just then, a servant approached and whispered something to the king’s ear. He turned back to the Underworld guests with a nod.

“The King of the Heaven and his son arrived not long before you. They’re resting in their quarters. We’ll dine together at the summit this evening.”

Jennie and Rosé exchanged a glance — they both knew Felix wasn’t in his room. But neither spoke up.

The Forest King clapped his hands together. “In the meantime, feel free to rest from your journey. You are safe here.”

Chan turned to his father. “I’ll release Lunarys now and return on foot.”

“Don’t take too long,” the King said with a nod.

“I won’t,” Chan promised.

He mounted the silver dragon again and with a powerful thrust of its wings, they shot into the sky like a streak of light against the trees.

They soared through the clouds, wind tearing past them, until Chan spotted a wide clearing hidden between pine and willow trees. He guided Lunarys down gently, and the dragon touched the earth with surprising grace for her size.

Chan dismounted, landing softly on the mossy floor. He walked around Lunarys, placing his hand on the dragon’s chest.

“Stay close, baby. No hunting, no burning trees, and definitely no scaring forest animals,” he said with a crooked smile.

Lunarys gave a low, pleased growl and bumped her head gently against Chan’s torso in affection.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Chan muttered affectionately, rubbing behind her ear.

With one last glance, Chan stepped back and watched Lunarys disappear into the trees with a leap and beat of her wings.

Alone now, Chan turned and looked around. His eyes caught the edge of a rocky incline, and beyond it, the glowing sky began to fade into purples and oranges. A high cliff jutted out from the earth just a short hike away. Something about it called to him.

He moved toward it in silence, boots brushing softly over leaves and earth. His breath was calm, his muscles relaxed, but there was a strange tension building in his chest, one he couldn’t name.

______________________________

The sky was bleeding gold. The sun hovered just above the forest canopy, its light spilling across the world like a secret whispered in a hush. Everything it touched turned molten with warmth—the trees, the rivers below, even the stone underfoot. The cliff was quiet. Still. Caught between the end of day and the beginning of something else entirely.

The moment the wind shifted, Felix felt it in his bones.

He had wandered deeper into the forest than he was meant to, feet following an invisible thread he couldn’t name. The twilight air carried the scent of wildflowers and warm moss, and something else—something electric that sent a shiver down his spine. The high cliff where the world seemed to open up before him beckoned like a secret.

Felix heard something. He took a step forward, his voice soft, a melody carried by the wind. “Who’s there?”

No answer came for a beat. Then, through the shadows and slivers of golden sunlight, someone stepped into view. Someone who stole the air from Felix’s lungs.

Chan.

He emerged from the trees like a whispered secret, his dark brown hair tousled by the breeze, falling slightly over his brow in soft, natural waves. His skin, kissed with the hue of honeyed porcelain, glowed in the light of the setting sun. His presence was a quiet storm, still yet brimming with energy beneath the surface. Their eyes met, and the world held its breath.

God.

Felix’s breath caught in his throat. Chan’s heart slammed against his ribs like it was trying to escape. Time bent around them. Neither of them spoke. Neither needed to. The moment was sacred, carved in gold and silence.

The wind tousled Felix’s golden hair, making it shimmer like threads of sunlight. His skin was freckled and glowing, as if the stars had kissed him. His eyes—wide, blue, and impossibly deep—held the entire sky in them. Chan couldn’t look away. His gaze trailed helplessly to Felix’s lips, pink and parted slightly in stunned silence. And those freckles… God, those freckles. And that beautiful face…. Chan would fight the whole world for a smile from that beautiful face.

Chan’s chest ached. Not with pain, but with the overwhelming awareness that he had just found something—someone—he didn’t know he was missing.

Felix felt like he had been struck by lightning and wrapped in warmth all at once. The man before him was breathtaking—not only in the way that people casually called someone attractive, but in a way that made Felix forget how to move. His frame was lean but strong, his jaw sharp yet softened by the kind expression in his eyes. There was a weight to him—a quiet power and gentleness mixed into one. He looked like dusk and earth and something holy. Felix’s heart soared and trembled. He felt seen. He felt undone. And that man was so fucking sexy and handsome. Felix knew he couldn't possibly be having impure thoughts, but just seeing the shirt showing off his abs and his full lips made him imagine what it would be like to be underneath him making love.

And then Chan spoke.

“I…” Chan started, his voice soft and rough, like it had been waiting a lifetime to say something. He paused, lips curling into a tentative, shy smile. “Hi.”

Felix smiled back, heart hammering. “Hi.”

The sun behind them dipped lower, casting long shadows that danced at their feet. The wind curled around them like an embrace. It was as if the entire world had conspired to bring them to this very spot.

Chan took a hesitant step forward. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be up here.”

“Neither did I,” Felix said. “But I’m glad you are.”

Chan’s eyes softened. “Yeah. Me too.”

There was something about the way Felix said it that made Chan’s stomach flip. That voice. Deep. Rough, but gentle. A voice that wrapped around you like a secret, warm and careful. He had never been the kind of person to believe in fate, but this—this felt like the universe had orchestrated it with careful hands.

Felix shifted, brushing his fingers through his hair nervously. “This place is… peaceful.”

“Beautiful,” Chan agreed, though he wasn’t talking about the view.

Their eyes locked again, and neither looked away.

“What brings you here?” Felix asked.

Chan hesitated, then gave a small, honest smile. “I think I was looking for something I didn’t know I needed…”

Felix’s breath caught. “Me too.”

Silence again. But this time, it wasn’t empty. It was thick with everything unsaid. Their bodies weren’t touching, but every cell between them buzzed with the urge to close the space.

Chan sat down on a mossy rock near the edge of the cliff, and after a second, Felix joined him, their knees almost brushing. The forest around them was alive with the sounds of crickets and birds settling down for the night, but all they could hear was each other’s breath.

Felix risked a glance sideways. "You look like someone who belongs here."

Chan tilted his head. "Here? On a cliff?"

"In the forest," Felix said softly. "In the quiet."

Chan smiled, bashful. “You do too. Like you’ve always been a part of it.”

They both believed the other was part of the Forest kingdom. Felix was blond, like Rosé, so Chan never thought he could be someone from the sky kingdom, despite his beautiful appearance. Chan was so handsome and sexy that Felix never associated him with the Underworld. 

The sun was dipping lower now, casting golden light across Felix’s cheekbones and making his freckles glow like scattered stardust. Chan swallowed hard.

“Do you come here often?” Felix asked.

“No,” Chan said. “But now I think I always will… this is the most beautiful sunset ever…”

Felix looked down, hiding the smile growing on his lips.

They stood like that, bathed in gold and silence, hearts screaming, lips aching. There was a gravity to it. Something inevitable. As if the stars had decided, long ago, that this moment would happen.

Chan wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. Not just kiss. Devour. Worship. He wanted to feel those lips against his own, taste the soft breath, catch the sighs. He wanted to know if his body trembled when he was touched. If he leaned in or pulled away.

Felix didn’t understand it. How could he want this? How could his body be this alive? One glance at this stranger, and his knees were weak. His pulse wild. His soul… His soul knew. Somehow, this man was meant for him. This was what his mother meant when she said that when he found his soulmate, he would know it instantly.

They sat side by side, the last threads of sunlight weaving gold into the treetops. Neither of them rushed to fill the silence—it didn’t feel necessary. The quiet between them was not awkward but comforting, the kind that settled in like a warm blanket between two souls that recognized each other before any words were spoken.

Felix plucked a blade of grass and twirled it slowly between his fingers. “I’ve always thought sunset was the best time for thinking.”

Chan nodded, a small chuckle escaping him. “And for not thinking too much. Sometimes it’s enough just to… be.”

Felix glanced at him sideways, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You sound like someone who knows how to be alone.”

“Maybe,” Chan replied, eyes still on the sky. “But I would prefer your company….in my bed” Demons tended to have a very spicy sense of humor, and perhaps that boy would take it the wrong way. "Sorry, I didn't mean--"

Felix turned his gaze back toward the horizon, smile deepening slightly. “You are funny… I like that.”

Chan was surprised that the boy wasn't shocked, didn't run away quickly and took his joke so well —well, if you can call it a joke because his mind was really thinking about having that beauty in his arms on the bed. A pause settled between them—not awkward, just quiet. Comfortable. The kind of silence that felt earned.

Felix let his shoulder lean slightly toward Chan’s as he reclined onto his elbows, looking up. “Are you always this quiet?”

“Only when I feel at ease.”

Felix laughed softly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” Chan said with a subtle grin.

Felix closed his eyes for a second, letting the cool air brush over his skin. “You know, I didn’t expect today to end like this.”

“How’s that?” Chan asked, his voice curious.

“I don’t know...” Felix answered, eyes still closed. “Having a conversation I don’t want to end… with a stranger…”

The breeze whispered gently around them, and the sky deepened into indigo. The first stars blinked into view, quiet and patient above them.

“I’ve always liked this part of the day,” Chan said softly. “When everything starts to slow down, and the night shows who it really is.”

Felix nodded. “Yeah. It’s like… the world finally exhales.”

They sat in silence again, this one even softer than before. No pressure to fill it. Just the sounds of the trees, the wind, and the occasional rustle of grass beneath them.

Chan stretched a little, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Feels like I was meant to be here tonight.”

Felix looked over at him, calm and still smiling. “Sometimes the best things are the ones you never see coming.”

They sat in that soft glow for a while, talking about nothing and everything. They spoke of how the wind always smells different before the stars show themselves. Of how the trees seem to whisper when you’re quiet enough to listen. Felix joked about how terrible he was at cooking, and Chan pretended to be scandalized. Chan joked playfully while flirting with the blond and Felix responded gracefully and always with a smile. They laughed—not loud or sharp, but easy and full, the kind of laughter that hums inside your ribs long after the sound fades.

As the stars took their places in the sky, Felix sighed and stood slowly. “I should go. If I don’t, someone’s bound to worry.”

Chan looked up at him, eyes soft with reluctance. “Want company on the way back?”

Felix shook his head gently. “Thank you… but I know the path. I’ll be fine.” He looked at him amused, "Besides, I don't want you to kidnap me in the middle of the road and do to me everything you told me in your jokes that you wanna do to me." Felix laughed.

Chan stood too laughing, brushing invisible dust from his pants. “It sounds very tempting... but I accept that you want to go alone…”. Felix smiled. “Then I’ll stay a little longer. I like seeing the stars appear. They will remind me of…” He trailed off, eyes on Felix’s face. “…Your freckles.”

Felix froze, then laughed quietly, blushing fiercely while thinking: “You’re going to ruin me.”

Felix pressed his hand to his heart dramatically, laughing again, soft and breathless. He took a few steps back toward the trees, then paused, looking over his shoulder.

“Same place, tomorrow?”

Chan didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be here.”

“Same time?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in this world.”

Felix’s smile stretched wide and glowing. Then he disappeared into the woods, his silhouette vanishing into shadow like a dream fading into dawn.

Chan watched the space where he’d been. The world felt a little quieter now. The stars were brighter. And his heart… his heart was no longer his. He sat back down on the stone ledge of the cliff, arms resting on his knees, eyes fixed skyward. He was going to marry that man.

He didn’t know his name, didn’t know where he came from. But none of it mattered. Not to his heart. The moment he’d seen him, something ancient had shifted. A quiet vow had already formed in his soul.

I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you.

He wanted to kneel in a field of stars, pull out a ring made of something eternal, and ask him to stay forever. Not someday. Now. Tonight. Because why wait when you’ve already found the one? He hadn’t believed in this kind of thing before—not really. But now, it was the only thing that made sense.

Felix walked slowly through the trees, heart hammering in his chest. He reached out and ran his fingers along a low branch just to ground himself. The wind was cool. The stars above blinked down in quiet approval. And his heart… it was screaming.

That man…

He’d never seen someone like him before. Dark eyes with galaxies hidden in them. A voice that was calm and deep and warm. Shoulders broad enough to carry a kingdom and yet somehow carrying only gentleness. And that smile—God, that smile had carved itself into Felix’s soul like a sacred promise.

He was his soulmate. He knew it like he knew his own name. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the kind of man his mother had dreamed he’d fall for. He wasn’t an angel, wasn’t light incarnate. He was not from the Heaven but he was from the Forest…. And Felix’s heart had chosen. And it had chosen completely.

He is it. He’s the one.

Felix pressed his hand to his chest, half-expecting his skin to burn from the intensity of what he felt. It didn’t hurt. It just… overflowed. The trees swayed as he passed, brushing his shoulders like old friends. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. He already missed him. Already needed to see that smile again. To hear his voice say something sweet and unexpected. To sit beside him under the stars and pretend the world didn’t exist beyond that cliff. He didn’t even know his name. But he knew the most important thing. He had found his forever.

And he’d be there—same place, same time—every single night if that’s what it took to keep him.

Chapter Text

The golden bell chimed softly through the high corridors of the castle, signaling the approach of evening—and with it, the dinner. Servants moved quickly, preparing the great hall, draping it in silks and enchanted flowers that shimmered with a warm, ethereal glow.

In his chambers, Felix stood by the mirror, buttoning the last pearl-fastened clasp on his white ceremonial jacket. The suit hugged him perfectly—elegant, tailored, radiant as moonlight. He looked every inch the crown prince of the celestial realm.

Behind him, his father stepped into view, already dressed in his own formal attire, white and silver with embroidery that shimmered faintly like stardust.

Felix’s voice broke the silence first. “So… the Underworld is actually coming to dinner.”

The King of the Skies sighed, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Felix ran a hand through his golden hair, still a little damp from the bath, then reached for the delicate diadem resting on a velvet cloth. It wasn’t ornate—just a band of silver with a single opal at its center—but it was enough to signify who he was.

“I’ll try not to insult his prince,” Felix muttered, carefully placing the crown onto his head as he studied his reflection. “Even if every fiber in me wants to throw him through a stained-glass window.”

His father chuckled, though the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Calm down, Felix. The kingdom of the Forest leans toward peace, but they will only commit if they see unity. If we present ourselves as calm, diplomatic… unshakable… we win them over. And they will see us for what we are.”

Felix inhaled slowly and nodded. “I understand.”

The king stepped behind him, looking his beauty and placing a hand gently on his son’s shoulder. “You’ve always been graceful. Even as a child, you carried beauty like it was stitched into your soul.”

Felix smiled faintly at the compliment, lowering his gaze.

“You’ll win the heart of anyone you choose,” his father continued. “That face, that presence… no one could resist it.”

Felix’s lips parted in a soft breath, and for a moment—just a flicker—his mind slipped far from the formalities, far from the impending dinner. It returned to the cliff. To the wind. To him.

That man—the stranger with the warm eyes, the bronze skin kissed by the sun, and the laugh that had sounded like it had lived in Felix’s chest all his life. That man whose arms looked strong enough to carry the whole weight of a kingdom, yet who had sat beside him as if the world didn’t need fixing.

Gods.

Felix bit his lip softly, trying not to sigh. The memory of that smile, that voice, that way he’d looked at him like he wasn’t a prince, not a being of light—but simply Felix—had rooted itself in his chest.

His father spoke again, breaking the trance. “Ready?”

Felix nodded, straightening. “Always.”

But in his heart, he whispered, The love of my life has already appeared, Father..

Across the castle, in a darker, quieter wing of the castle, the air was cooler, more still. Velvet drapes shut out most of the light, leaving only the flicker of candle flames dancing on stone walls.

Chan sat slouched on the edge of a long, dark oak bench, bare-chested, rubbing at his temples as a servant laid out his formal attire for the evening—a sleek black suit tailored with sharp lines, trimmed in blood-red silk, the house crest stitched over the heart.

“I really have to go?” he asked, sounding like a man preparing for execution.

His father stood by the window, arms crossed over his chest, sharp-eyed and regal in matching black. “Yes. We’re meeting with the kings of the Forest and the Heavens tonight. My son not attending would be an insult.”

Chan muttered something under his breath and reached for his shirt.

“You’ll survive,” the demon king added dryly, amusement in his tone. “I’m sure the celestial prince will be radiant in all his sugar-frosted, angel-winged charm.”

Chan scoffed. “He probably glows in the dark.”

That made his father laugh out loud. “Try not to choke on all that holy light.”

Chan grumbled as he slipped into the tailored suit, fastening the crimson-lined collar with a flick of his fingers. “I hate these things. Smile through the talk of war and alliances while we pretend we aren’t all sizing each other up.”

His father only grunted in agreement, then turned to leave. “Paint your eyes. You know what it does.”

Chan rolled his eyes but reached for the small tin of kohl anyway. With practiced ease, he darkened his eyes, sharp lines turning them even more intense. He looked up at his reflection—and froze.

For a moment, he didn’t see himself. He saw him. The beauty on the cliff. The smile. His blue eyes. The softness in those eyes. The way his golden hair had caught the last light of the sun. The curve of his neck. His laugh—light but real. Chan’s fingers hovered near his lips.

I’m going to marry him.

The thought hit him like truth.

I don’t know who he is. But he’s mine. He has my heart.

He smirked faintly, remembering the way that stranger had looked away shyly, biting his lip. God, that mouth. That mouth had no business existing in a world like this. Chan’s heart beat a little faster. He didn’t believe in fate, not really. But whatever that had been—on that cliff, with that man—it wasn’t just chance. He knew it in his bones.

Suit straightened, eyes smudged with shadows, Chan stood up, gave himself one last look, and whispered under his breath, as if the walls could carry his voice back in time:

“I’ll see you again, golden boy.”

And with that, he left for the great hall.

_____________________________

The great hall was alive with tension. Velvet-draped pillars, glowing braziers, and ornate tapestries cast dancing shadows across the polished marble floor. Courtiers lined the walls, whispering beneath breath. The air smelled of cedar wood and trembling anticipation.

At the center stood the King of the Underworld and Chan, his son. The demon king’s expression was stoic, regal; Chan looked sharp and alert, though his jaw tightened once too often. By their side were King Daewon of the Forest Kingdom and his daughters, Jennie and Rosé, who exchanged careful, anxious glances.

At the far side of the hall, shadows stirred—guards at the stairwell, the signal that the celestial royals were arriving. The Underworld king and Chan braced themselves. The demon prince’s expression darkened, eyes narrowing. A guard bowed.

“They have begun their descent,” he announced quietly.

Chan pressed his lips together, inhaling slowly. He turned to his father, voice dripping with sarcasm: “I bet the celestial prince is still stuck in that sugar‑cloud he calls hair. Probably can’t find his wings.”

The Underworld king chuckled softly, but there was fervor in his eyes.  From the stairwell, steps drifted down. First came the King of the Celestial Realm, regal in his pale white robe, trimmed with silver thread. He approached King Daewon, offered a firm handshake, and then swept his gaze across the other kings—landing only briefly on the Underworld royals.

“Greetings,” he said, voice composed, eyes cool. His tone made the demon king bristle.

Daewon smiled diplomatically. “Your Majesty—”

But the Underworld king merely turned his back, refusing to offer more than disdain.

Silence pressed against the walls.

“And… your son?” the Forest King asked, turning toward the Celestial. 

Chan lifted his chin, and with perfect scorn replied, “He’s probably entangled in cotton candy and can’t fly out yet.”

Daewon chuckled politely. The King of the Celestials’ face darkened; he pressed his lips together and silently glared before he spoke.

“My son… was adjusting his wings,” he said tightly, “—within his back region. He will descend soon.”

At that moment, Felix appeared at the top of the staircase—light spilling down with him like sunrise incarnate. The Celestial King gestured.

“There he is,” he said.

Chan’s breath stopped. Because there. On those stairs. Stood the boy.

Felix’s shoes barely made a sound, yet it felt like the whole world echoed with each step. The silk of his white ceremonial robes flowed like mist around him, catching the gold of the chandeliers above. His hands were clenched at his sides. His wings were tucked deep within his back, hidden—tamed. And his gaze stayed fixed on his feet, careful, focused. Not because he feared stumbling—but because he couldn’t bear to see the demon prince’s face.

He didn’t want to see the enemy his heart so foolishly adored. He had promised himself he would be composed. That he would be strong. That he would look into the eyes of the man he was raised to hate, and feel that hate. But he was already breaking.

Felix’s stomach knotted. He lifted his chin. And the moment his gaze met Chan’s—his world shattered. Everything froze. The laughter they had shared earlier that day at the cliff vanished. The soft brush of shoulders. The blades of grass between their fingers. The feeling that the universe had finally made sense.

Gone.

The man who stood across the hall—black-clad, sharp-eyed, sculpted like shadow—was the Prince of the Underworld. Chan. And Felix—son of heaven—was his sworn enemy.

A thousand voices of ancestors roared in his blood. Every story he’d ever heard as a child about the cruelty of the demon lineage rang in his ears like a death bell. His hands trembled. His chest ached like someone had pierced it through with a blade of ice.

No. No, no, no, please not him.

But it was him. The same eyes that had looked at him like he was made of stars. The same voice that had made him feel calm for the first time in his life. That body, that laugh, that softness beneath the sarcasm. Chan. Felix’s lips parted like he was about to say something, but no words came. His throat burned. His knees felt weak. It was like he had walked into a dream that had turned into a nightmare mid-step.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream at the universe, Why would you give me him only to take him away?

Across the room, Chan stared. His face was unreadable—but his eyes. His eyes were shattered glass. Chan felt the earth tilt beneath him. The man from the cliff. The man who had made him laugh like no one ever had. The one whose freckles he had memorized. Whose voice he’d already wanted to wake up to every morning. Whose presence had filled a void he didn’t even know existed. He was an angel. He was the son of the very kingdom Chan had been taught to destroy. Chan had imagined asking him to marry him. To run away, to build a life outside of war and duty. Now all he could see was a wall built from blood and centuries between them.

His father had raised him to believe angels were manipulators. Soft on the outside, dangerous beneath. Beings who would smile as they slit your throat. He’d believed it. He’d swallowed it whole. But how could that possibly be true—when the man standing there looked like he was breaking into pieces just from looking at him?

Chan’s hands trembled at his sides. Rage burned inside him—not at Felix, not at himself, but at the world. At fate. At whatever cruel force had tied their souls together only to make them enemies.

He wanted to run to him. To grab his hand, whisper, Don’t listen to them. Don’t let them ruin us. But he stood still. He didn’t move. And neither did Felix.

The introductions continued—names said aloud as if they were just titles, as if those names didn’t now carve wounds into each other’s chests. As if they hadn’t already spoken, laughed, almost fallen in love without even knowing who they were. The words blurred. Their hearts screamed.

Felix wanted to look away, but couldn’t. The tears stung behind his eyes, but he blinked them back, jaw clenched. His throat ached from holding it all in. From pretending to be nothing more than a diplomat. From pretending that the man in front of him hadn’t already ruined him.

He’s my enemy, he reminded himself, over and over. He’s my enemy. I’m supposed to hate him.

___________________________

The grand dining hall shimmered with gold candlelight and the clinking of crystal, but no amount of splendor could cover the tension that hung heavy in the air like smoke.

The table was long, carved from dark mahogany and adorned with vines of silver. At the center sat the King of the Forest Realm, with his daughters Rosé and Jennie seated gracefully on either side. At one end sat the King of the Underworld, cold and still like stone carved from night, and next to him, his son—Chan, dressed in black, his eyes a quiet storm.

At the opposite end, in contrast like sun to shadow, sat the King of the Celestial Realm, his white robes shimmering faintly, his expression serene but watchful. Beside him, Felix, quiet, jaw tight, hands resting too carefully on the edge of the table, as if afraid they might betray him.

Dinner had begun in practiced civility—servants gliding by, pouring wine, laying plates of fruits, cheeses, and slow-roasted meats. Conversations were hushed, mostly led by the forest king, who tried to steer the atmosphere toward peace.

Then, like venom whispered across a glass, the King of the Underworld leaned toward his son.

“He looks sweeter than I imagined,” he said, his voice low and laced with disdain. “A little spun sugar wrapped in lace. Don’t get a toothache staring too long.”

Chan didn’t laugh. Not really. But he smiled. A sharp, false thing. His gaze lifted—directed across the table. To Felix. Their eyes met again, and it was like someone pulled the air from both of their lungs.

And then the King of the Forest Realm, in a hopeful tone, said, “Perhaps the prince of the Heavens would like to give the toast.”

The king of the Underworld exploded inside with anger when he heard that. He had been the first to tell his son the day before to control his attitude toward the kingdom of Heaven, but he wasn't about to let the cotton candy angels trample on his son.

Felix blinked. His breath caught. Slowly, he stood. He didn’t look at his father. He didn’t look at the king who had just offered him the floor. He looked straight at Chan. The words of the toast were forming in his throat—something diplomatic, something harmless—but before he could speak, the King of the Underworld rose to his feet, his voice cutting across the table like a blade.

“Why should he give the toast?” he said, disdain thick in every syllable. “My son would do it far better. Let the room hear a voice that doesn't sound like a low choirboy on a wedding day.”

A pause. Felix’s father did not rise, but his shoulders stiffened. The insult was clear. Before either angel could reply, Chan’s father leaned forward, voice oozing with sarcasm.

“Of course,” he said with a smirk looking at Felix’s father. “Strange how a man with wings still manages to crawl at the feet of stronger kings… What did you do to make the king of the forest offer the toast to your son?”

Felix’s eyes snapped to him, rage flickering behind the usual calm.

“Don’t you dare speak about my father that way,” he said coldly, voice ringing with clarity and conviction. “Show some respect. Or at least pretend to be more than a bitter shadow.”

The smile vanished from the demon king’s face. Chan's eyes narrowed as he looked at Felix — but now not just with disdain. With challenge.

“You angels,” Chan muttered, rising slowly from his seat. “Always claiming the high ground, aren’t you?”

Felix didn’t flinch. “It’s not claiming when it’s earned.”

Chan scoffed. “What exactly have you earned? Your kingdom was born from privilege. From entitlement. You’ve never had to fight for anything.”

“We don’t glorify destruction, if that’s what you mean,” Felix said. “We choose to build. To heal. That’s strength. Not lighting things on fire and calling it power.”

“Strength?” Chan's laugh was harsh. “You call hiding behind light and wings strength? You sit in palaces and whisper sermons while your people bleed just the same.”

“At least we don’t celebrate the bloodshed.”

Chan’s voice rose, eyes flashing. “You don’t have the courage to face the dirt. You preach purity because you’re terrified of getting your hands dirty.”

“We protect peace.”

“No,” Chan snarled. “You protect your image.”

The words hit like a slap. Felix took a step forward, fury burning now.

“Better that than wearing cruelty like a badge.”

Chan’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “You think you’re better than me, butterfly?”

Felix’s blue eyes met his without hesitation. “I know I am.”

Chan scoffed, venom curling in his words. “You hide behind that halo like it makes you holy. But I’ve seen what you really are—nothing but fear wrapped in silk.”

Felix’s jaw clenched. “And you? All fire and rage, pretending it’s strength. You wear darkness like armor, but it’s just cowardice.”

Chan took a step closer, voice low but crackling with anger. “At least I don’t pretend to be pure while looking down on everyone who’s different.”

Felix's voice was like ice. “I don’t look down on you because you’re different. I look down on you because you revel in chaos like it’s something noble.”

Chan’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, little angel. That pride of yours might snap those delicate white wings.”

Felix stepped forward too, their faces now inches apart. “Better to have withe wings than black ones. At least mine were earned with grace, not inherited with shame.”

Silence. A heartbeat stretched too long. And then, Chan took a slow step forward. He didn’t speak. Not out loud. But inside—God, inside—it cracked something wide open.

I must’ve been out of my mind. I thought I saw something good in you. Something soft. Something worth breaking the rules for. But this? This is who you really are. Just another stupid pretty angel who thinks his blood is gold and his light makes him holy…. And I was so fucking stupid to want you.

Across the space between them, Felix was still as stone, even as his heart screamed. He stared at Chan, but the world around him blurred.

It can’t be him. It can’t. The man I saw by the cliff—the warm smile, the quiet strength, the way he looked at the stars like they belonged to him... that man cannot be the prince of the Underworld. But he is. He is. And I thought—I thought—he was the one. But how could I love someone born from everything we’ve fought against? How could I have been so wrong?

His chest ached, tightening so badly he thought he might crack apart in front of everyone. He looked away from Chan then, jaw locked. Disgust flooded his stomach.

Monsters don’t change. And I was a fool for believing otherwise, Felix thought.

Across the room, Chan turned his face to the side, but not before one last thought carved through the pain in his chest:

I almost saw a future with him. But.. He’s exactly what they warned me about…. a fucking pretty face but with a rotten attitude. And I’ll never make that mistake again.

And though they said no more, the silence between them spoke of heartbreak, betrayal, and the cruel hand of fate. They returned to their seats without another word, eyes locked forward, hearts in ruins.

Jennie quickly stood up after the argument between Chan and Felix and made the toast herself to avoid further confrontation. And the dinner continued, cold and ceremonial, while two men who could have been everything for one moment sat on opposite ends of a table, pretending they hadn’t just lost the only thing they had ever truly wanted.

Chapter Text

The morning sun filtered through the tall trees of the woodland trails, golden light dancing over the leaves as four horses trotted through the clearing. The air smelled of pine and damp earth, thick with tension.

After the strained dinner the night before, the atmosphere within the palace had grown cold and quiet. Even the servants whispered more softly, as if afraid of igniting a spark that might turn to fire. The kings had retreated to a private chamber, locked in delicate negotiations about war, allegiances, and the future of their kingdoms.

It was the King of the Forest who had suggested—demanded, really—that the younger generation step outside and “enjoy some air.” He’d said it with a half-smile, but no one had missed the edge in his voice. They were meant to play nice while the adults talked about the fate of the world.

And so here they were.

Rosé rode slightly ahead, her braid bouncing against her back, Jennie beside her with an unreadable expression. Behind them, Chan and Felix rode side by side, though neither had said a word since they left the palace gates. Their horses’ hooves clicked over stone and moss, but the silence between the two men was deafening.

Chan was the first to snap it.

“So, does your face always look like you’re on the verge of a royal tantrum, or is that just the halo tightening?”

Felix didn’t look at him. “Do you always sound like you’re compensating for something?”

Chan laughed under his breath. “Oh, I like that. The prince has claws.”

Felix finally turned his head, blue eyes sharp. “Careful. Keep provoking me and you’ll find out angels don’t need claws to cut.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Chan said smoothly, gaze flicking across Felix’s profile—the soft sweep of his cheekbone, the almost too-pretty curve of his mouth. Those lips could undo nations, Chan thought bitterly. Damn him. “You look like a threat... right up until you open your mouth.”

Felix scowled. “You talk a lot for someone who pretends not to care.”

“I don’t pretend,” Chan said. “I genuinely don’t give a damn.”

Felix tugged his reins, halting his horse abruptly. Chan’s did the same. Jennie and Rosé paused ahead, watching carefully.

Felix dismounted in one graceful motion, boots hitting the earth with a dull thud. He turned to face Chan. “Then why are you still talking to me?”

Chan smirked and slid off his horse, standing tall. “Maybe I enjoy teasing the cotton candy prince.”

“Fuck you!”

“You’re practically swearing,” Chan said, stepping closer. “It’s adorable.”

“I’m warning you—”

“Or what?” Chan’s voice dipped, a taunting whisper. “You’ll bless me to death?”

Felix’s hands curled into fists. “You think this is funny?”

Chan tilted his head, fighting the pull in his chest. Why the hell does he have to look like that? His voice came out lower than he intended. “I think you’re a joke dressed in silk and feathers. A pretty little puppet playing at war.”

Felix stepped forward, eyes blazing. “At least I don’t crawl in the dark, feeding off fear like a parasite.”

“Oh, come on,” Chan growled. “Don’t pretend you’re better than us just because you sparkle. You think light makes you pure?”

“I think it makes us honest.”

Chan laughed bitterly. “Right. That’s why your kingdom manipulates with smiles and politics instead of blades. At least we’re honest about what we are.”

“You’re honest about being heartless monsters,” Felix spat. “Congratulations.”

“And you’re so full of light it’s blinding you to your own hypocrisy.”

Jennie stepped down from her horse now, voice calm but firm. “Maybe take a breath, both of you.”

Felix barely heard her. His eyes stayed on Chan’s. Chan couldn’t look away either. Damn him. Why does Felix have to be so fucking gorgeous when he gets angry?

“You are a monster without heart or feelings” Felix said too quickly. “All demons are the same. Trash that doesn't feel.”

Chan’s expression hardened. “You can't imagine how much I hate you right now, freckled firefly.”

But the lie tasted like ash on his tongue. He took a slow step forward. I must’ve been out of my mind, he thought, heart pounding. I thought I saw something good in you. Something worth risking everything for.

Felix’s pulse thrummed in his throat. How could I have been so stupid? I wanted to kiss him. Touch him. Trust him. He felt sick. He’s nothing but a shadow in skin. He does not have a kind heart and never will…. He called me fucking freckled firefly….

Felix narrowed his eyes. “What, you want a fight? Right here, in the middle of the zone of peace between our kingdoms?”

Jennie crossed her arms. “We’re still here, by the way.”

Rosé leaned against her horse. “They’ve clearly forgotten.”

Chan’s eyes raked over Felix again, full of fury and something worse—desire he couldn’t burn away. “You’re so convinced you're pure. You look down on us, but deep down, you're terrified we might be right.”

Felix stepped closer until there was barely space between them. “Terrified? Of you?”

Chan’s voice was like a whip. “Of wanting me.”

Felix’s breath caught. He looked away like the words had cracked something inside him.

How dare he say that. How dare he be right.

Because somewhere beneath the fury and disgust, he remembered the cliff. The quiet. The way Chan had looked at him like he was made of something precious. He’d wanted that. Gods, he still did. And that made it worse.

“Want you? Honey, I wouldn't touch a demon with a stick.,” Felix muttered, voice like ice. “Only a demon would turn a moment of peace into poison.”

Chan didn’t move. And only an angel could make cruelty look like beauty.

But he didn’t say it. Instead, he stepped back. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

Jennie exhaled slowly. “This was a mistake.”

Rosé walked forward between them. “You're both acting like children.”

“I don’t care,” Felix said coldly. “Let him crawl back to whatever hole he came from.”

Chan’s gaze turned lethal. “And you can float back to the cotton candy clouds and lie to yourself all you want.”

Their horses pawed the earth impatiently, mirroring the tension in the clearing. Felix turned sharply, pulling himself back onto his steed. Chan did the same, neither of them saying another word. But inside, both men were falling apart.

The tension hung like a storm cloud, thick and electric, long after their ride resumed. Chan had barely spoken a word. His jaw was locked, his shoulders tense, his stare fixed straight ahead like he might shatter if he looked at anyone. Felix could still feel the sharpness of their last argument humming beneath his skin. He told himself he was over it. That Chan meant nothing. That his words didn’t cut. He lied. Because every step the demon’s horse took in front of him only made that hollow space in Felix’s chest expand. His mouth still burned with words he wished he hadn’t said—and words he hadn’t dared to.

They reached a crossroads beneath a wide canopy of oak and ash when Chan suddenly pulled his reins hard, making his horse rear with a frustrated snort.

“I’m done with this,” Chan said flatly, eyes still fixed ahead.

Rosé turned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not riding back with you,” he muttered, already tugging at the reins. “I’ll take my own path.”

“Prince Chan—” Jennie started, but he didn’t wait.

He spurred the black mare into a gallop and vanished between the trees, a blur of dark hair and anger swallowed by the green.

Felix watched the empty space he left behind and felt something inside him twist—tight and painful. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t want to.

Rosé raised a brow. “What an idiot.”

Jennie nodded. “Good riddance.”

But Felix wasn’t ready to let it end like that. Not with that bitterness hanging between them like poison.

“I’ll stay behind,” he said quietly, tightening his grip on his reins.

The girls turned toward him.

“I just… need some air. The quiet of the forest will help… I want to be alone for a moment…,” Felix added.

Jennie squinted at him suspiciously. “You sure?”

He nodded. “Go on without me. I’ll catch up.”

With little more than a shrug, the girls took off, their laughter already echoing in the distance.

As soon as they disappeared into the forest, Felix spun his horse and pressed forward into the direction Chan had taken. The path was uneven and wild, but something inside him knew exactly where to go. He followed the broken branches, the distant imprints of hoofbeats, until they faded—and then, just as he feared he’d lost him, he saw it. A clearing bathed in golden light. And in the center, Chan. He had dismounted, back turned, standing in complete silence like the forest itself bowed to his presence.

And then—he saw it.

The sky above shimmered for a moment, like the fabric of reality had rippled, and descending through the golden beams of light was something he had only ever read about in sacred texts and half-believed legends.

A dragon. A real one. The most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Its silver scales shimmered like polished steel and pearls, eyes glowing a pale violet. Massive wings folded delicately as it landed before Chan, the ground vibrating beneath its grace. Felix’s jaw dropped. He had never seen one in his life. Few angels had. They were nearly extinct, hidden away in the Underworld or lost to myth. And this one… this one was alive. Real. And bonded to... him.

Felix's lips parted in awe. God… He had never seen anything so ethereal. So… perfect. But the dragon wasn’t even the most breathtaking thing in that clearing.

It was the way Chan lit up the moment the creature landed. The cold, sharp prince of the underworld—the same one who had snapped at him, insulted him, told him that he hated him, looked like he wanted to claw his eyes out only hours ago—was now smiling. Smiling.

And God, what a smile.

Those dimples. That softness. It wasn’t forced or practiced. It was real. It was warm. Chan opened his arms, and the dragon rushed into him like a child to a parent. He wrapped his arms around her thick neck and buried his face into her shimmering scales. Felix’s heart cracked. The demon prince—no, the demon man—was whispering to the beast in a voice so gentle, Felix almost didn’t recognize it.

“There you are, my beautiful girl,” Chan murmured, running his fingers beneath her chin. “I missed you so much, Lunarys.”

Lunarys. The name hit Felix like a soft blow to the chest.

Chan pulled back and looked her in the eyes. “You’re still the only one who understands me. The only one who sees me for who I really am.”

Felix’s stomach twisted.

What are you doing? he scolded himself. He’s your enemy. He’s literally the future king of darkness. A demon. A murderer waiting for war.

But even as the thoughts tried to anchor him, they couldn't fight what his eyes were seeing.

This isn’t a monster.

This was a man… who spoke to a dragon like it was his best friend, his soulmate, his home. Felix’s gaze wandered, helpless to stop itself. Chan’s fingers trailed over the dragon’s head with a reverence that made Felix’s skin tingle. His touch was slow, thoughtful. He looked like he would rather be nowhere else in the world.

And Felix— God. His eyes flicked down. The way Chan’s dark shirt clung to the carved shape of his chest. The thick arms flexing as he held the dragon close. His fingers, long and strong, threading through silver scales with unshakable tenderness. His neck, his jaw, the shadow of his collarbones beneath the open laces.

He’s too beautiful. This is unfair. I hate him… don’t I?

Felix swallowed hard, but the jealousy creeping up his throat was undeniable. He envied the damn dragon.

I want to be the one he’s touching like that. God—stop it. He’s the enemy. You’re not supposed to feel this.

And yet… Chan kissed the dragon's head softly. A real kiss. Not a quick peck. A slow, closed-eyed brush of the lips that nearly knocked the breath out of Felix.

“I don’t care what the kingdoms say about me,” Chan whispered against the dragon’s skin. “As long as you know who I really am. That’s all that matters.”

Felix’s heart stopped.

No. No no no. Don’t say things like that. Not when I’m already…

He wanted to cry. Or scream. Or—God forbid—run into the clearing and kiss Chan senseless. He shouldn’t be thinking this. He shouldn’t be aching like this. This was the same demon who had called his kind self-righteous, arrogant, deluded. The same demon who made his blood boil with one glance.

But now— Now Felix wasn’t even sure who he was angry at anymore. Maybe himself. Maybe fate. Maybe this entire cruel setup that put two souls on opposite sides of a line they never asked for.

“I don’t care if they all hate me,” Chan continued, voice low, his fingers still caressing Lunarys’s snout. “I don’t care if they never see past the flames. But you—you always see me. You never flinch.”

Felix felt his throat tighten. He hated this. Hated how much he saw of himself in those words. Hated how unfair it was that this beautiful, impossible boy—this enemy—was the first person who made him feel something deeper than what duty allowed.

Before the dragon or Chan could notice the presence in the trees, Felix backed away—one slow, trembling step at a time—until he was swallowed again by the green. He mounted his horse in silence and rode back toward the palace, eyes stinging.

Because the worst part of it all wasn’t that Chan was beautiful, or kind, or gentle beneath the fire. It was that, for a fleeting moment, Felix wanted to believe they could be something else. But they never could. Not in this lifetime. Not in any. Not when the whole world needed them to be enemies.

____________________________

The sun had dipped low behind the castle spires by the time Felix returned to the western courtyard. The world had gone gold and quiet, but inside him, everything pulsed with chaos.

He hadn't stopped thinking about that clearing.

About the dragon with silver scales and the prince who had smiled like he wasn’t the heir to the Underworld—but just a boy who wanted to be seen. A boy with a kind voice and warm hands. A boy Felix wasn’t supposed to feel anything for.

He pressed his lips together and shook the thoughts away as he rounded the courtyard corner—and came to a dead stop.

There, by the marble steps, stood his father.

King Elias of the Skydwellers.

Surrounded by servants preparing their majestic winged horses, tightening saddles, adjusting glowing reins. The beasts shifted restlessly, sensing the anger rolling off their king like a coming storm.

Felix approached cautiously. “Father?”

Elias didn’t turn.

“Are we… leaving now?” Felix asked, his voice more hopeful than he meant it to be. Please, let it be over. Let me go home. Let me forget him.

Elias finally turned. His sharp silver eyes narrowed. “We are. But only briefly.”

Felix frowned. “Briefly?”

“You’re coming with me back to the Sky Realm,” Elias said flatly, “to pack your things. Then you’re returning here. Alone.”

The words hit Felix like ice water.

“What?” he asked, confused. “Why would I come back?”

His father stepped closer, his jaw clenched with restrained fury. “Because the Forest King—still sitting on his fence like a coward—refused to commit to either side. He claims it’s premature to declare loyalty without fully understanding the long-term value of an alliance. He wants to see proof. Integration. Compatibility.”

Felix blinked, trying to follow. “What kind of proof?”

Elias’s voice was tight. “He’s proposed that both heirs—you and the Underworld prince—stay here, in his court. For a season. His daughters will host you. You’ll participate in ceremonies, councils, hunts, dinners. His goal is to observe who is better suited to align with his kingdom.”

Felix stared at him in disbelief. “You mean he’s turning this into some kind of—test?”

“Exactly that,” Elias spat. “He wants to judge not just our power, but our character, our values, our future. As if sharing polite meals and dancing at harvest festivals will reveal the best alliance for a looming war.”

Felix’s stomach sank.

He was supposed to leave. He was supposed to never see Chan again.

Elias stepped even closer, lowering his voice. “This is no longer diplomacy. This is competition. And you cannot lose.”

Felix shook his head slowly. “You’re asking me to charm an entire kingdom into choosing us.”

“I’m not asking,” his father snapped. “I’m telling you. You are not just a prince, Felix. You are the embodiment of our realm. Our values. Our future. And if the Forest Kingdom allies with the Underworld, the Sky Realm will be surrounded. Cut off. Vulnerable.”

Felix exhaled shakily, his fingers curling at his sides. “So what? You want me to flirt and smile and lie my way into their hearts?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“I’m not your puppet,” Felix muttered, eyes dark with rising anger. “I’m not some weapon you can aim with a handshake.”

“No,” Elias said with cold authority, “you’re a prince. Which means you were born to be aimed. And right now, this kingdom is your target. Win them. Earn their trust. Make sure they side with us.”

Felix turned away for a moment, jaw clenched. He looked at the winged horses. The sky fading. The golden towers of the Forest Realm behind him.

Just hours ago, all he had wanted was to leave. To escape the confusion and the chaos that bloomed every time Chan looked at him. To forget the taste of longing and bitterness stirred by one single boy in the middle of the woods.

And now?

Now he was being forced to stay.

To live under the same roof as him. To see that maddening face and that crooked, perfect smile. To feel everything he didn’t want to feel—and bury it under duty.

Gods, he thought bitterly. I just wanted to forget him. And now I’ll see him every damn day.

Elias continued, unfazed by his son’s silence. “You may choose three companions from the Sky Realm to accompany you.”

Felix took a breath. “Hyunjin. I.N. And Jisung.”

“Good,” his father replied, turning on his heel. “Prepare. We leave within the hour.”

Felix watched him walk away, the weight of it all pressing down on his chest. This wasn’t diplomacy. This was war, disguised in manners and tradition. And he was being thrown into it—with the one person he couldn’t trust. Or forget.

Chapter Text

The skies above the Underworld were a constant twilight, a swirling mass of yellow, red and orange  that never rested. Inside the black palace, Prince Chan stood in his chambers, muscles tense, heart beating like a war drum in his chest. He was packing for war—or something close to it.

His gloved hands folded tunics, tightened straps, and sheathed blades, but his mind was far from focused. He shoved a dark shirt into the case with more force than necessary.

“I still don’t understand,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Why the hell do I have to go back to that cursed forest? To compete with that perfect little princelet?”

As soon as the word left his mouth, Felix’s face rose uninvited in his mind. That maddening face. Those freckles, like stars scattered by careless gods. Blue eyes, burning too bright for this world. And those lips—plump, soft, sinful. Chan’s jaw tensed.

Gods, he thought, bitterly. I should hate him. He’s a threat, a rival. A damn angel. But I can’t stop thinking about—

His thoughts shattered as the door slammed open.

“Are you still sulking like a child?” His father’s voice was a whip, cold and sharp.

King Ragnar strode into the room like a shadow wearing a crown. His eyes were blood-red slits of impatience, his obsidian cloak trailing behind him like smoke.

Chan straightened immediately. “I’m not sulking. I just don’t see why this entire fucking mission has to fall on me.”

Ragnar’s glare could’ve crushed stone. “Because you are my son. The heir to the Underworld.”

“It’s politics. Not war.”

“It is war!” Ragnar thundered, slamming a fist against the wall. “Every second spent in that forest is a battle for dominance. That indecisive forest king may pretend to be neutral, but he’s playing a game—and we will not lose it to a choir-boy with wings!”

Chan looked away, jaw clenching.

“Felix…” he started, then stopped.

But his father had already caught the name. “Felix. That soft little thing in robes of silk and smiles. Don’t be fooled by his face, Chan. Underneath all that light is nothing but weakness. Use it. Break it.”

Chan’s hands curled into fists.

“You will earn the Forest King’s favor,” Ragnar snapped. “Charm his daughters, flatter his court, win the people if you must—but above all, overshadow that damn golden prince.... Their army is far larger than the combined armies of the Underworld and Heaven. If we can win them over to our side, victory in the war against the angels will be ours.. Make sure when the king chooses a side, he chooses us.”

Chan gritted his teeth. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then you’ve failed me,” Ragnar said coldly. “And I don’t raise failures. You are not a child. You are not some sentimental weakling. You are my firstborn, and the next King of the Underworld. Start acting like it.”

Chan scowled. “No, but seriously… what if he already prefers angel-boy?”

Ragnar said sharply. “We can’t let the Skydwellers take that alliance. If the Forest Kingdom sides with the angels, our war becomes a thousand times harder. They’ve held neutrality for centuries—whoever sways them wins the advantage.”

Chan scoffed, crossing his arms. “Of course Felix is going to try to seduce them with his shiny halo and sparkly smile.”

“Then extinguish the damn halo,” his father snapped. “Smother the light. If you have to clip his wings or burn him from the inside out—do it. Kill the firefly.”

The words hit Chan like a blade. He blinked, stunned for a second.

His mouth moved before he could stop it. “You want me to kill him?”

Ragnar tilted his head. “Only if you must. But metaphorically works just fine.…for now… Outshine him. Outwit him. Break whatever little glass pedestal they’ve put him on.”

Chan bowed his head "Yes, father"

Ragnar barked a laugh. “That’s more like it. That’s the demon blood in you.”

But Chan wasn’t laughing. Inside, he was crumbling.

He hated the way the name Felix echoed inside him. The way that face wouldn’t leave his mind. That infuriating beauty. That smirk, those wide blue eyes, the way he looked furious even when he was about to smile. The way Chan wanted to—gods—press him against a tree and kiss him until he forgot his own name.

What the fuck is wrong with me? he thought.

Felix was his big enemy. A spoiled little angel with a crown of light. A threat to everything Chan had been trained to destroy. And yet… Every time Chan closed his eyes, he saw freckles instead of flames. Wings instead of weapons. Lips instead of blood.

He shook his head violently.

Ragnar’s voice cut in again. “What company are you taking?”

“Minho. Changbin. Seungmin… They’re the only ones I trust.”

“Good. Strong, loyal, not easily manipulated.”

“I’m also taking Lunarys.”

Ragnar’s face soured. “That beast again? She’s made you soft.”

“She’s made me sharp,” Chan bit back. “She’s part of me now. I trust her more than any blade.”

“Demons don’t need trust. They need power.”

“I have both… besides… If I have to burn the little butterfly… I’ll do it with Lunarys’ blue flame.”

There was silence.

Then Ragnar gave a nod. “If the butterfly burns, make sure it’s slow. Make him bleed light. Make the forest remember that the Underworld doesn’t beg. We conquer.”

Chan didn’t answer. His father left the room with a heavy thud of boots. When the door closed, Chan slumped into the chair by the window. He looked out at the red sky, a storm forever locked in twilight.

He hated this. Hated the war, the rules, the impossible expectations. He hated Felix most of all. Because he couldn’t stop wanting him. He remembered that soft look in his eyes on the cliffs. The tenderness on his face. The smile that hadn’t quite formed. Chan closed his eyes and whispered into the silence:

How am I supposed to destroy something I’m not even sure I want to survive without?

_______________________________

The sun filtered softly through the clouds, casting golden rays across the gleaming winged steeds being prepped for flight. Felix stood by his horse, tightening the saddle straps with practiced movements—but his mind was anything but calm.

Behind him, a familiar trio of voices shattered the stillness.

“Seriously, how long does it take to saddle one unicorn?” 

Hyunjin appeared first, radiating his usual effortless elegance. “You’re not braiding its hair too, are you?”

Jisung arrived next, carrying way too many bags and not enough logic. “Guys, I lost one of my gloves. That’s a war crime. These Underworld beasts are going to smell fear on me.”

“Maybe the Prince of the Underworld took it as a token,” I.N. said mock-dramatically. “You know… to summon you later in some unholy ritual…. to use in some forbidden blood ritual.”

Felix rolled his eyes but smiled. His friends always managed to lighten the mood—even when the weight of his whole realm rested on his shoulders.

“Speaking of the Prince of the Underworld,” Jisung grinned, eyes glinting. “What’s he like? Bang Chan, right? That’s his name?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin nodded. “Bang Chan. What kind of name is that anyway? Sounds like something you yell before getting punched in the face.”

Felix gave a sharp exhale, pretending to adjust the saddle again.

“I bet he has fangs,” Jisung continued. “And like, blood-red eyes. And maybe a tail? Does he hiss when the sun touches him?”

“I’m picturing long black claws,” Hyunjin added, clearly enjoying himself. “And a constant trail of smoke coming out of his mouth. Oh, oh! Maybe his voice cracks because he’s too full of darkness.”

Jisung gasped with glee. “Yes! Does he have horns? Smoke pouring from his nostrils? Red skin, claws, glowing eyes—?”

Hyunjin added dramatically, “A hunched back? Wrinkled skin covered in ash? One eye? Crooked teeth bursting from his mouth like fangs from a nightmare?”

Felix let out a laugh despite himself. “You three have been reading too many war stories.”

But the moment their questions hung in the air, Chan’s face flashed in his mind—those deep, piercing eyes, sharp like fire and sorrow. That impossibly perfect nose, the strong jawline, the muscular build under all that dark clothing. But worst of all were his lips—plump, parted, made to be kissed and absolutely cursed with power. Felix’s stomach tightened.

God, stop it. He shook his head subtly, trying to dislodge the image, and cleared his throat.

“He’s not… like the books say,” he said, shrugging. “You’ll see for yourselves.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “So he’s not a smoke-drenched ogre?”

“No,” Felix muttered, eyes drifting off. “He’s—” Unfairly beautiful. “—normal.”

“Normal?” Jisung repeated, clearly disappointed. “That’s boring.”

I.N. was already shaking his head. “I swear, if one of those damned demons so much as breathes near us, I’ll drive my blade straight through their throat.”

Felix turned to him sharply. “No. Absolutely not. We’re there to represent the Celestial Realm—peacefully. We’re trying to win the Forest Kingdom’s trust, not start a war. That means no violence. No killing.”

Hyunjin crossed his arms, unconvinced. “Well, that’s no fun… I wanted to kill that Bang Chan…”

Felix sighed, eyes flicking away as his fingers flexed unconsciously against the reins.

Bang Chan… God. Why does his name feel like fire when I think it?

Hyunjin stepped in with a wicked grin. “So tell us, Felix. When you and Prince Doom-and-Gloom locked eyes, did you sense the flames of eternal hatred inside?”

“I hated him,” Felix said, too fast.

All three of them blinked. Jisung whistled. “Touched a nerve, huh?”

Felix tried to focus, to shut out the memory of Chan’s molten gaze, of that perfectly sculpted face, of the way he held his dragon like he was made of love, not fire. That had shaken him. More than he could admit.

“He’s dangerous,” Felix said finally. “And a pain in the ass. So don’t go near him.”

“Oh no,” I.N. said, smirking. “Now I have to go near him.”

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Felix snapped. “We’re there to gain favor, not declare war.”

Hyunjin flipped his hair. “We’ll behave. Unless he opens that cursed mouth of his.”

Felix sighed. “He and I… we don’t get along. All we ever do is trade venom.”

Jisung cracked his knuckles with a grin. “Then allow me to be your anti-venom. I’ll teach that prince of shadows a lesson or two. The ‘Dark Heir’ or ‘Underworld Trash’ or whatever he’s called.”

Felix gritted his teeth. “Seriously, it's best to ignore him.”

“Or,” Jisung added with a wink, “I can throw a holy punch right at his demon jaw.”

Felix glared at him but said nothing. His thoughts were already miles away—back in that forest clearing, watching Bang Chan smile for the first time, watching him kiss the scales of a dragon with lips that had no right being so— Nooooooooo. He shook his head, jaw tight. They finished loading. The steeds beat their wings, and the royal procession was almost ready. Felix turned to where his parents stood.

His mother stood near the castle gates, her silvery gown catching the sunlight, her eyes glassy. The moment Felix reached her, she opened her arms and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” she whispered into his ear. “Demons are dangerous, manipulative creatures. Keep your distance. Don’t let them drag you down with them. The farther away, the better.”

Felix nodded softly. “I’ll be careful, mother.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss there. “I promise.”

Then came his father. The King of the Skies and Heaven was tall, regal, and stern. He didn’t embrace. He simply placed a firm hand on Felix’s shoulder, eyes like lightning locked onto his son’s.

“The weight of the Heaven Kingdom rests on your shoulders now,” he said. “This is more than diplomacy. It’s survival. Show them who we are. Earn their alliance. Win their loyalty.”

Felix met his gaze. “I won’t fail you.”

“You can’t fail us.”

Felix swallowed hard. The pressure wrapped around his ribs like a vice. He gave a final nod and stepped back. As the winged horses spread their wings and the air filled with magic and wind, Felix mounted his steed. His friends climbed onto theirs beside him. His mother waved. His father watched, unmoving.

And as the skies opened and the trees of the Forest Kingdom rose far ahead on the horizon, Felix thought bitterly:

I just wanted to forget him. Now I’m flying straight into his fire again.

_____________________________

The heavy footsteps of boots against obsidian floors echoed through the vast halls of the Underworld palace. Bang Chan had scoured nearly every corridor, chamber, and council room looking for his father. Nothing. Not even his usual trail of smoke, sulfur, or soldiers barking orders.

“He really disappeared,” Chan muttered under his breath, frustrated.

It wasn’t that he wanted a long, emotional goodbye. Gods forbid. But still—after everything, after being told to march back into enemy territory and compete for the favor of the Forest Kingdom, he thought he might at least get a final look. A nod. A sneer. Anything. Instead, silence.

Eventually, his footsteps took him outside—past the fortress walls, down the marble steps carved with ancient demon tongues, to the Queen’s Garden. The scent hit him before he even saw her. Thousands of black roses. In perfect bloom. Delicate. Sharp. Poisoned, some said. But beautiful.

His mother was crouched among them, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, fingers buried deep in ash-soaked soil as she whispered ancient lullabies to each stem. There was something terrifying and ethereal about her calm.

“Mother,” Chan said softly.

The Queen lifted her head. A smile curved her lips as her onyx eyes lit up.

“My son,” she greeted. “Off to spread your wings in foreign skies?”

Chan nodded slowly and approached. “It’s time. I’ve packed everything. I was looking for Father… to say goodbye.”

Her smile faltered just slightly. “He’s preoccupied. Planning.”

“Planning?” Chan’s brows furrowed.

She stood, wiping her hands on a silk cloth blackened with rose blood. “Yes. Preparing for the inevitable.”

He stiffened. “You mean the war.”

The word left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Yes,” she replied simply. “There’s no time left for sentiment, Chan. The Heaven Kingdom has already been mobilizing. We need allies. We need the Forest Kingdom.”

Chan’s jaw clenched. He wanted to say, There must be another way. But he didn’t. Even here, with the woman who had once cradled his feverish body in the darkest nights of childhood, he couldn’t afford softness. Not now.

“So it’s really inevitable,” he whispered.

The Queen nodded, reaching out and gently pulling a perfect black rose from its stem. She examined it briefly, then extended it toward her son.

“If it’s the heart of the Forest King you must win,” she said, “then do it. Lie, smile, charm. Seduce his daughters if necessary. Gain their trust. Their love. Their loyalty.”

Chan took the rose from her hand but didn’t move.

“I don’t want either of them. I don’t want anyone…” he started. His throat closed around the words before they could escape.

Except… Felix. Gods. No!! No!! No!! I hate him, I really hate him!!

But his face haunted him. Those blue eyes, like twin shards of ice carved straight from the heavens. That porcelain skin dotted with golden freckles like constellations scattered by a careless god. That voice—sharp, low, arrogant, yet musical. And those lips. Full. Defiant. Tempting. He wanted to ruin them. Devour them. He wanted to drag Felix into the shadows and wipe that angelic smugness from his tongue with something darker.

His mother looked at him.

“Because I… don’t want to be tied down,” he said quickly, catching himself. “I’m a free soul, Mother. I don’t need a princess or a prince by my side.”

His mother raised a delicate eyebrow. “You’re the Crown Prince of the Underworld, not a bard with a flute and a tent.”

She stepped closer, placing a hand on his cheek. “One day, you will be king. You will need a spouse. Children. An heir. You don’t get to be free forever, my love.”

He nodded, masking the conflict in his chest.

What if the person I wanted... was never an option in this world?

He kissed her gloved hand gently, brushing his thumb against the velvet of her wrist.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I’ll make you proud.”

As he turned to leave, she called after him.

“And remember,” she said, her voice turning sharp like a dagger hidden in silk, “destroy that angelic scum. Rip off their wings if you must. Especially that cursed prince. Make sure he learns that the Underworld bows to no one.”

Chan froze for half a second, spine rigid. He nodded slowly without turning back, gripping the black rose tighter in his hand as he walked away.

________________________________________

Back at the Underworld stables, the shadows coiled eagerly around him. Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin were already there, saddling their demonic steeds—shadow beasts shaped like horses but born from flame and bone.

“You took your sweet time,” Minho said, not looking up.

“Were you getting last-minute kisses from a princess?” Seungmin teased.

Changbin smirked. “Don’t tell me you were crying.”

Chan ignored them and looked at his beast, his dragon.

“Let’s ride,” he ordered. 

“Ooh shit… that sounds indecent, prince…” Changbin laughed.

“Always thinking about sex, Changbin….” Chan rolled this eyes. “Let’s go… We’ve got a kingdom to charm… or burn.”

With a roar of hooves and shadow flames, the four demons thundered out of the Underworld gates, a storm of wings, claws, and molten heat. The air above them cracked as they ascended, the jagged terrain of their homeland fading behind them.

For a while, no one spoke. The silence was heavy—expectant. But it didn’t last.

“So…” Changbin started, his voice echoing over the wind. “This Sky Prince. What’s his name again? Featherlick?”

“Felix,” Minho corrected dryly, shooting him a side glance.

“Right, right. Felix.” Changbin grinned. “The oh-so-holy prince of clouds and sugar.”

“Do you think he sparkles in sunlight?” Seungmin asked mockingly. “Do his farts smell like lavender and virtue?”

Minho snorted. “I bet if you pluck one of his feathers, he screams in musical harmony.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “Enough.”

But they didn’t stop.

“Hey, Chan,” Changbin said, nudging his beast closer. “If we catch him alone, can I yank out his feathers one by one? I wanna see how long it takes before he cries.”

Seungmin laughed. “Only if I get to stomp on his halo.”

Chan pulled on the reins of his shadow dragon sharply, causing it to snort and flare its flaming nostrils. He turned his head, eyes narrowed.

“No one touches him,” he said, voice low and firm.

A pause. The air tightened. The other three glanced at each other.

Minho’s brow lifted. “Come again?”

Chan faced forward again, jaw tense. “I said, he’s mine. If there’s a fight, it’s between us. Prince against Prince. That’s how this works.”

“Ohhh…” Changbin dragged out the sound with amusement. “So greedy all of a sudden.”

Seungmin whistled. “Sounds like someone’s been hit with angel dust.”

“Maybe it’s true what the books say,” Minho said, voice laced with mock seriousness. “That angels can enchant you with a single glance. Melt your brain. Wrap your soul around their glowing fingers.”

Chan’s nostrils flared. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“‘Don’t be ridiculous,’” Changbin mimicked in a high voice, fluttering his fingers dramatically. “That’s exactly what someone under an angel’s spell would say.”

“I’m not under a spell,” Chan growled.

“Oh?” Seungmin smirked. “Because you sound pretty enchanted to me. First it’s ‘don’t touch him,’ then it’s ‘he’s mine,’ next thing you know you’ll be offering to brush his golden curls every morning and kiss his halo goodnight.”

Chan turned his head sharply. “Enough.”

But the grin on Changbin’s face widened.

“You do know that Felix sounds like a name you moan in your sleep, right?”

Minho added, “It’s like… meant to be whispered in the middle of a battlefield. Right before a sword plunge. Or a kiss.”

“Felix…” Seungmin mimicked, dragging the name with dramatic flair. “My sweet little firefly.”

“Do you want me to toss you into the nearest volcano?” Chan deadpanned.

Changbin leaned in again, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “Just tell us the truth. Do you like him? Like, like-like him?”

“No… Never…. He is disgusting!,” Chan said immediately.

Too fast. Too defensive.

“I don’t like this, Chan.” Minho raised a brow. “You are a demon… I don’t want…”

“Shut up! I already told you guys…” Chan snapped, his tone sharp as a whip. “I hate that fucking pink butterfly. He makes me gag, he makes me nauseous, he’s just… an unpleasant being.”

He spat the words like poison, like he wanted to believe them himself. But deep inside, it was a lie so loud it echoed in his chest.

Minho, who had stopped smirking, studied him with a more serious gaze. “Then be honest with us, Chan. Why can’t we touch him? We’re demons. We destroy. We don’t play fair.”

Chan’s glare locked with Minho’s. His usual fire was there—sharp, burning—but something in it flickered, something quieter. Something he didn’t want any of them to see.

“Because I said so,” he growled. “Because that angel is mine to break. If anyone’s going to tear those pretty wings off, it’s going to be me.”

Changbin raised a brow. “You sure it’s breaking you want to do to him? The way you talk, it sounds like you want to fuck him instead.”

“Watch your mouth,” Chan hissed.

“I’m just saying,” Changbin said, hands raised in mock surrender. “You’re getting a little too emotional every time his name comes up.”

“Emotional?!” Chan let out a humorless laugh. “I’m furious. Every time I see him standing there with that smug little face, that perfect posture, that holier-than-thou air like he owns the skies—it makes my blood boil.”

He clenched the reins until his knuckles turned white.

“He thinks he’s better than us. Walking around with those glassy blue eyes, like he hasn’t got a single dark thought in that pretty little head.”

“Pretty,” Seungmin echoed under his breath, grinning.

Chan shot him a death glare.

“I meant annoying,” he corrected quickly. “Pretty annoying.”

“Damn, you’ve memorized him, huh?” Minho cut in.

“I just notice things about my enemies,” Chan bit out.

Changbin laughed under his breath. “You sound like someone who stares a lot at his enemies.”

Chan gritted his teeth. “It’s called studying your opponent. I need to know how to take him down. Where to hit. What hurts.”

“Sure,” Seungmin said with a smirk. “I just hope you're telling the truth…”

“I am! For God’s sake….” Chan barked, this time louder, a spark of genuine panic flashing in his voice.

His heart was racing. This was getting out of control.

“I fucking hate Felix. That arrogant, glowy, fake-sweet bastard. I can’t stand the way he looks at me like I’m beneath him. Like he pities me.”

The words felt hot and jagged in his mouth, too big to swallow, too sharp to spit.

“He wants to pretend he’s better than me. But I’ll show him. I’ll drag him from his clouds and pin him to the dirt. Crush that halo. Rip those wings apart.”

Chan’s voice was low and shaking now, but it wasn’t rage. Not entirely. It was something else. Something more dangerous. Silence fell for a long beat.

Then Minho finally spoke, his voice calm but cutting. “You talk about him too much for someone you claim to hate.”

“I'm talking about him because you idiots have started talking about him and you keep mentioning him all the fucking time!!” Chan growled, “… and because I’m going to be the one to destroy him.”

“And what if you can’t?” Seungmin asked, his tone suddenly serious. “What if it’s not him that falls?”

Chan didn’t answer. Because in the deepest part of him, in a place he had locked away and buried beneath layers of smoke and steel, he already feared the answer. And his silence said more than words ever could.

The sky cracked with thunder as the princes of the Underworld rode into the storm.

Chapter Text

The forest was quieter than usual that day. A charged silence hung in the air like mist, thick with expectation and tension. The sun filtered weakly through the high trees, painting golden patterns across the royal stone path leading to the heart of the kingdom of the forest. It was here, at the very gates of the great castle made of living trees and whispering vines, where two worlds were about to collide once more.

On one side of the road, emerging in shimmering grace, were the angels.

Felix led them, his snowy wings tucked with divine precision against his back. His hair caught the sun like spun gold, and every freckle on his face looked painted by the hands of the stars themselves. I.N, Hyunjin, and Jisung followed closely behind, each a radiant vision of celestial beauty in soft silks and armor kissed with silver light. The guards and citizens of the forest gasped silently as the angelic procession approached. They were ethereal. Otherworldly.

"They look like they fell out of a dream," whispered one of the young forest maidens.

"Or a legend," another added. "Look at the tall one, with the braid... he's art."

Hyunjin caught their glances, smirked, and adjusted the silver ring on his finger with practiced arrogance.

Felix, however, wasn’t focused on the attention. He felt something deep inside his chest—a pull, a warning, a flutter. He knew they were coming.

And then he heard it. The hoofbeats. From the opposite end of the royal courtyard, a darker cloud moved in. A low rumble announced them before they even came into view. The demons. Shadows on horseback. And at the center of it all, commanding and magnetic, was Prince Bang Chan on his beautiful silver dragon. His armor gleamed with obsidian accents, and from his shoulders hung a blood-red cape that flowed behind him like liquid fire. His chest was broad beneath leather. His eyes were like smoldering coal—hot, intense, dangerous.

Behind him rode Minho, silent and watchful; Changbin, his smirk almost feral; and Seungmin, expression unreadable but eyes dancing with challenge. The crowd went still. If the angels were light incarnate, the demons were fire made flesh.

"No one said demons could be this... hot," whispered Jisung, barely audible.

"Shut up," Hyunjin muttered, even though his eyes hadn't left Changbin since he’d first laid eyes on him. The bulk, the confidence, the cocky grin—it was infuriatingly attractive.

I.N blinked. "They're supposed to be hideous. Horned and rotten. What the hell is this? Did someone lie to us?"

"Clearly," Jisung muttered, still ogling.

Meanwhile, the demon line was also buzzing.

"Are you seeing them?" Seungmin asked in a low tone. "Feathers and fury wrapped in golden skin."

"The one on the left with the braid," Changbin said under his breath. "I'd happily lose a fight to him."

Minho didn’t speak, but his gaze lingered too long on the smallest angel with the sharp eyes and sassy smirk. Jisung.

But Chan? Chan was focused. Focused on the angel at the front. Felix. Golden. Glorious. Beautiful in a way that made Chan's teeth grit and heart twist. He was supposed to hate that light. And yet it burned through him in the worst, most delicious way. Chan dismounted first, elegant even in dismount. Felix followed, his blue eyes locked on his nemesis. And then they stood, feet away from each other.

“Well, well, well… Look who finally crawled out of the clouds," Chan sneered, voice low and biting. “It is the golden prince himself… alone… No daddy here to save you now, huh? What are you gonna do when things get hard, little seraph? Cry in the corner and pray someone kisses your bruises?"

Felix narrowed his eyes, lips twitching into a smile. "Oh, look who crawled out of the underworld swamp. Did you bring a leash—” Felix looked at Chan’s friends. “…or are your dogs just that well-trained?"

Minho stepped forward, eyes flashing, but Chan lifted a hand to stop him, his eyes never leaving Felix.

"Still got that sharp tongue, huh? Must be compensating for something else… I love it, babe… that wild side of you, little butterfly….”

“Coming from you? The king of overcompensation? Please. Your dragon's horns aren’t fooling anyone.” Felix looked at him with disguised hatred. “And by the way…Fuck you! Don’t ever call me babe…..”

"I see your wardrobe hasn't evolved. Still dressing like an unicorn threw up on you."

"Better than looking like I got dressed in the ashes of my own ego."

"Careful, sunshine," Chan growled, stepping closer, "You might blind someone with all that holiness. Oh wait, I forgot—there's nothing holy about you, is there? Just a fake little angel with a sugar coating."

"And you? Just a demon cosplaying as someone dangerous. Tell me, does the fire in your eyes keep flickering out when no one's watching?”

"I’d be more worried about your wings catching fire when you get too close to real power."

"Power doesn’t mean cruelty."

"In my world, it does."

"Then your world is broken."

"And I’m the one who'll break yours."

The tension snapped through the courtyard like lightning caught midair. The angels were frozen, and not just from the argument. The demons were looking the discussion between Felix and Chan.

Chan's jaw tensed. "You’ll learn quickly that this castle is no place for sugar-spun fairies. Try not to melt."

"Please," Felix scoffed, stepping forward. "If I melt, it's only from the stench of brimstone and sweat you bring everywhere you go."

Chan smirked but there was fire in his eyes. "You think you're safe here, Sky Prince? You’re not. The forest doesn’t favor wings."

"And yet your demon ass got invited too," Felix said, looking him up and down with disgust. "Guess even monsters deserve a pity chance."

"You better hope pity is all I show you."

"Is that a threat or a promise, prince of ash?"

"Call me that again and I’ll rip out those wings and use them as a pillow."

"At least then you'd be close to something soft for once in your hellish life."

"Careful, butterfly,” Chan said, voice a velvet growl. "You’re tempting me."

"To do what? Lose? Again?"

Chan stepped even closer. "To end this before it even begins."

The angels and demons alike stared. Breathless.

Seungmin leaned toward Minho. "Is it just me, or are they going to either kill each other... or kiss?"

Minho raised a brow. "Could go either way."

I.N, fuming beside Felix, finally stepped forward. "We can take them, Felix. Say the word. I’ll pluck every black feather off their egos first… Starting with this prince….”

Felix raised a hand, eyes never leaving Chan. "No. This one's mine."

Chan tilted his head mockingly. "How poetic."

"Don’t flatter yourself," Felix snapped. "I just don’t trust anyone else to handle you."

"Because you're obsessed with me?” Chan teased him.

"Because I know what kind of beast you are."

Chan took a slow step forward, closing the final distance between them. His voice dropped. "And you love beasts, don’t you?"

Felix’s breath caught. Just for a moment. Then he scoffed.

"Only the ones I can tame."

Behind them, their friends were watching with silent amusement, tension, and a growing confusion at the electricity in the air. Something was off. Something felt too hot to be hate.

"You know, you should be careful who you talk down to, little prince. We’re under the same roof now. Same halls. Same walls."

Felix held his ground. "Then I hope the walls are flameproof. I wouldn’t want them to collapse under your inflated ego."

Chan smirked. Felix had character. Chan loved that about the angel. He wasn't just a pretty face. He had strength, and Chan felt something strong inside him that he shouldn't feel toward his enemy.

"Alright, enough," Rosé finally said, appearing from the castle gates with her sister Jennie beside her. “My dad invited you all here to represent your kingdoms, not burn each other to the ground."

Jennie sighed. "Not yet, anyway."

The boys broke their stare reluctantly.

"We have rooms prepared," Rosé continued. "You’ll all be here for some time. Might as well learn to act like it."

Minho leaned into Seungmin. "We’re all going to die, aren’t we?"

Seungmin smirked. “Definitely…”

As the group began to follow the princesses inside, Felix lingered for just a second longer. He looked back at Chan. And Chan looked back at him. Neither said a word. But their silence was louder than every insult they'd hurled.

__________________________________

Rosé stepped forward and cleared her throat with grace, motioning to the imposing staircase that spiraled up one of the massive tree towers. "Prince Bang Chan, this way, please. I’ll escort you and your men to the North Tower."

Chan inclined his head. "Lead on, Princess."

As they climbed the winding staircase woven from living wood and ivy, Rosé cast a glance over her shoulder at Chan. "If I may give you one piece of advice, your highness... The king is not one to tolerate conflict among guests. If you truly desire an alliance between your kingdom and ours, I suggest you don’t provoke... or allow yourself to be provoked."

Chan huffed, amused. "I'll try my best… but it’s just too much fun making that butterfly squirm.”

Rosé rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by his antics. She stopped in front of a carved archway and pushed open a heavy door, revealing a beautifully designed suite with four separate rooms and a shared sitting area.

"This wing is yours for the duration of your stay. I trust you'll find it comfortable."

Changbin pushed past eagerly. "Private rooms? Now we’re talking. I might not want to leave."

Rosé gave them all a polite nod. "Rest. I’m sure the journey from the Underworld wasn’t easy. Dinner will be served at dusk. Until then."

"Thanks, Princess," Chan said, flashing her a charming grin.

When Rosé left, the door softly clicking shut, silence fell for a brief moment before Changbin broke it.

"Okay but—what the hell was that?" he said, flopping onto a plush velvet chair. "That wasn’t a fight, that was... sexual tension with knives."

Seungmin dropped into one of the velvet chairs. "You mean that fight? Or the part where our mighty prince looked like he wanted to slam his lips onto that angel's mouth?"

"It was the way they got in each other’s faces," Minho added with a sly grin. "The tension could’ve burned down the entire forest."

Chan narrowed his eyes. "Don’t start."

"No, seriously," Changbin said, leaning forward, eyes bright. "You got so close to him, I thought we were gonna get a porn live show."

"He’s a spoiled, glittery brat," Chan snapped. "I can’t stand him."

Minho raised an eyebrow. "Then why can’t we touch him?"

"Because I told you he’s mine," Chan growled. "If there’s a confrontation, it’s prince against prince. No one lays a finger on Felix but me."

There was a pause, then Seungmin whistled. "That sounded way too possessive for someone who supposedly hates the guy."

Changbin smirked. "So what? We get free reign with the other three?"

Minho shrugged. "Works for me. I wouldn’t mind bending the little one with the big eyes and fluffy cheeks over one of these chairs."

Seungmin choked on air laughing. "Damn, Minho. Not holding back?"

"Why should I?" Minho said, shameless. "He looked like he’d break in the best way possible."

Seungmin’s eyes gleamed. "That quiet angel with the soft voice who defended Felix before... I want to hear what noises he makes when I get my hands on him."

"Same," Changbin muttered. "And the tall blond? The one with the braids and the attitude? I'd love to see if I can wipe that smug look off his face with my tongue."

Chan glared at them. "Are you listening to yourselves? This is a mission. We’re not here to play winged dating game."

Minho shrugged. "We’re demons. Playing is part of the mission."

"Yeah," Changbin said. "We’re not saying we’re falling in love… That would be stupid! Just that if an angel falls into our bed... we won’t complain."

"You’re letting your dicks make decisions your brains should," Chan snapped.

Seungmin grinned. "And you’re not? You looked ready to either gut or kiss that little butterfly prince right there."

Chan glared. "That feathered brat is everything I despise. Entitled. Arrogant. Soft."

"You sound obsessed," Changbin said, teasing. "Tell me, do you dream about plucking his feathers or tying him to your bed?… Because he is hot… damn… I really wouldn't mind eating him.”

Chan’s jaw clenched, his mind traitorously drifting to Felix’s flushed face, his parted lips, the intensity in those sky-blue eyes.

"No one touches him," he repeated, voice low.

Minho chuckled darkly. "You’re obsessed. I’d bet hell’s crown you’ve thought about ruining him."

"Yeah, okay, I thought about it... but that's it...Shut up."

"His mouth looked soft," Seungmin mused, almost dreamily. "I wonder if angels taste sweet."

"Probably like divine honey," Changbin said. "Or something addictive. Dangerous."

Minho leaned back against the wall. “Mmmm…. You made me horny with your words…. Now I really want to corrupt that little thing with the curious eyes. See if his innocence is just a front and if he taste like honey…”

Chan exhaled heavily, pacing. "Do what you want. But don’t screw this up. We need the forest’s alliance. And stay the hell away from Felix."

Seungmin raised a brow. "A little protective, aren’t we? Sounds personal."

"It’s not," Chan said quickly. Too quickly.

Minho chuckled. "You sure about that? You looked ready to rip off his robe—or was it his lips?"

"He's my enemy. That’s all."

"An enemy with golden hair, flawless skin, and eyes that could make you beg," Seungmin mused. “Come on, prince... play with him... tease him, take him to your field, one night of sex… have fun…”

"Shut up.” Chan clenched his jaw. Chan knew Felix wasn't a one-night stand. No. Felix could be the person he'd go to bed and wake up with every day of his life... if fate weren't forcing them to be mortal enemies. “But a little tease…”

"It’s okay," Minho said gently. "You're not the only one. They’re all... gorgeous."

"Not just gorgeous," Seungmin added. "Unreal."

"Otherworldly," Changbin said.

Chan finally sat down, rubbing his face. He couldn’t deny it. Not really. Felix wasn’t just beautiful—he was blinding. Dangerous. A distraction Chan couldn’t afford.

"Look," Chan said. "Whatever you feel... keep it under control. We didn’t come here to fall. We came to win."

"And what about you?" Minho asked. "What happens when your heart forgets that he’s your enemy? Because only we know that you are the prince of the underworld, but that you have a noble, pure and gentle heart."

Chan didn’t answer. Because the image of Felix’s furious face, flushed with heat and light, was already burned into his mind. And gods help him, he didn’t want to let it go.

_______________________________

Jennie escorted Felix and his friends—Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N.—to the South Tower, mirroring the elegance of the North Wing.

"Here you are," Jennie said with a pleasant smile. "Four rooms and a common space. I hope it suits your liking."

Felix took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Thank you, Princess Jennie."

She raised a brow, amused. "Thank you your highness, but don’t think charming me will earn you points toward the alliance. My father doesn’t let me influence such decisions."

She blew them a playful kiss and stepped out. "Call for service if you need anything. Rest well."

As soon as the door closed, Felix sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We have to win over the king. There’s no way I’m letting those demons get the upper hand."

Hyunjin flopped onto the couch dramatically. "Still can’t believe the Prince of the Underworld is... like that."

Felix narrowed his eyes. "Like what? Arrogant? Infuriating?"

Jisung smirked. "Sexy."

Felix froze, then turned away to open his suitcase. "You’re insane."

Hyunjin grinned. "He is sexy, though. That smirk? I almost combusted."

I.N. nodded. "They're all hot. Dangerously hot."

"He’s the enemy," Felix snapped.

"And yet you were almost nose-to-nose with him," Jisung teased.

Felix bit his lip, his back still turned. The memory of Chan’s intense eyes made his heart skip.

"I mean, come on," Hyunjin said. "That moment when he said, 'Because you’re obsessed with me?' I almost fainted."

Felix scoffed. "I would never be obsessed with someone so... vile."

Jisung held back a laugh. "He’s vile, sure, but he’s also really handsome… All of them… Especially the one who stepped forward to defend him."

Hyunjin nodded. "Yeah. He’s not my type though. I prefer the muscled one with the intense stare. That guy could destroy me and I’d say thanks."

I.N. giggled. "I like the one with the soft face. He looked like a kicked puppy. Adorable."

Felix turned around. "Are you all serious right now? Hours ago, we were talking about how demons are our natural enemies. We were taught that in school, raised with it! And now you’re... you’re thirsting over them? Our ancestors died fighting them. They have no heart. No soul. We don’t fall for them. We defeat them."

Hyunjin shrugged. "We hated them until we saw them in person. Now it’s complicated."

"That’s exactly their plan," Felix growled. "They lure you in with beauty. Then they destroy you. They’re heartless. We can’t kneel to them."

Jisung smirked. "Funny. That’s not what it looked like earlier. You and Chan? Eye-fucking for the whole courtyard to see."

"That NEVER happened."

"Sure," I.N. said innocently. "Then why are you blushing, your highness?"

Felix glared. "He’s my enemy. I hate him. I want to destroy him."

Hyunjin grinned. "Slowly? Or with kisses first?"

"With my arrow. And poison. And blade," Felix growled.

"Or maybe with a touch to the thigh and a soft moan," Jisung whispered.

Felix threw a pillow at him. "I hate you."

"Not as much as you 'hate' Chan," I.N. teased.

“Forget it!! He’s disgusting!"

"Disgustingly sexy," Hyunjin corrected.

Felix groaned. “You’re all lost.”

“Lost in temptation,” Jisung quipped.

Felix turned, fire in his eyes. “Seriously, you need to focus, team…Chan is the enemy. I hate him. I want to—”

“—Pin him against a tree?” Hyunjin offered.

“—Feel his lips on your throat?” Jisung added.

“—Smack the smirk off his face... with your own?” I.N. whispered.

Felix threw a cushion at Jisung’s face. “You’re all impossible!”

The room erupted in laughter.

"By the way," said I.N., "did you notice the beast Bang Chan was riding? Was it a real dragon?"

"Yeah, I saw it," added Jisung. "It's the first time I've seen one. I thought it was a mythological animal that no longer existed."

"It's Chan's silver dragon. Her name is Lunarys," Felix interrupted.

"Excuse me? You know a lot about Mr. 'He's my enemy,'" Hyunjin declared.

Felix looked at him nervously. "No...uhh...I just heard him. Like I said, I don't care about Bang Chan or those damn friends… He’s my enemy. My greatest enemy..."

But even as he said it, he saw those eyes again—glinting like black gemstones. He felt the phantom echo of Chan’s breath on his skin. He remembered the twist in his stomach when they were standing inches apart, screaming at each other like they wanted to fight or kiss or both. His heart pounded again. What if all the rage was just a mask for something more dangerous? Something truer?

Chapter Text

Felix rose at the same time he always did—before the rest of the world.

It was barely five in the morning. The castle halls were still steeped in shadow, the fire pits long gone cold, and even the wind outside was half-asleep. But Felix was already up, his senses quietly alert, his body aching with the weight of something he could never ignore.

His wings. They remained folded inside him during the day—tucked under skin and sinew by old angelic magic. Court life, diplomacy, appearances… They all required concealment. But every morning, before anyone could see him, before the sun laid its eyes on the world, he released them. Today was no different.

He stepped carefully through the winding corridors, barefoot and quiet, his boots dangling from one hand. The others still slept—Hyunjin, I.N, Jisung. And that was good. He didn’t want to explain where he was going. Especially not where. Because the truth was, Felix didn’t quite know where he was going either. Not really. He only knew the way now because he had followed someone there before.

Days earlier, he had trailed Chan—furious, half-hypnotized—through the endless forest, galloping after him on horseback. The woods had stretched for kilometers, dense and knotted like the curls of fate itself. Felix would’ve been lost if not for the sheer instinct, the sharp pull of his frustration. And when he’d caught up, it had been in that small, hidden clearing—lush with ferns and moonlight, eerily quiet, impossibly private. He remembered every step of that chase. And every step back. And now, for some reason, his body knew the way better than he should’ve.

The path narrowed as he walked. His wings, finally released, flexed slowly from his back, stretching like waking limbs. The early morning air kissed the feathers, brushing over them like reverence. Felix sighed quietly. The forest was calmer than any chapel—birds calling softly, leaves whispering secrets, the scent of earth and damp stone mixing with pine.

When he stepped through the final curtain of branches, entering the clearing— He stopped. Completely. Frozen. There, in the center of the meadow, just like before, stood him. Chan.

Back turned, hair ruffled from sleep, shirt half-open like it hadn’t been buttoned properly, the demon prince stood alone, bathed in the fading night light. He was rummaging through a leather satchel. Calm. Relaxed. Like he belonged there. Felix’s stomach flipped violently.

No. No, no, no—

Of all the damn people— Felix blinked hard, like his mind had conjured Chan just to torment him. "You have got to be fucking kidding me. This is a nightmare."

Chan turned at the sound of his voice, and the morning light framed him like a devil summoned by the dawn. His shirt was loose, hanging off one shoulder, collarbone exposed, and his eyes gleamed with that signature mockery that made Felix want to throw him into a tree.

But it wasn’t Chan’s smirk that made Felix freeze. It was the wings. It was the first time he had seen those wings up close. Two great black wings arched from Chan’s back, stretching lazily like they had minds of their own. Sleek and wicked, they shimmered like polished obsidian, each feather sharp-edged and perfectly shaped. They weren’t demonic in the monstrous sense—no, they were beautiful. Dangerously so. They looked like a corrupted version of Felix’s own. Felix hated how they made his heart stutter.

Chan turned slowly, and when his gaze landed on Felix, a slow, warm smile spread across his lips. And gods, it was unfair. Without his usual armor of make up and highlight, Felix’s face was unadorned, fresh with sleep and moonlight. Even a little disheveled, he looked ethereal—like the very angels from childhood storybooks. Too beautiful to be real. Chan stared, but only for a second. Then he smirked.

"Well, well," Chan drawled, turning fully. "I see you’ve taken up stalking now. Following me through the woods? That’s a new low, even for you, freckles.”

Felix’s face flushed, immediately bristling. "I’m not stalking you, asshole. I was just out for a walk."

"Right. At dawn. In this exact clearing. The only one for kilometers. Just by chance."

"I know this clearing because I followed you here on horseback days ago!” Chan looked at him confused. He didn’t know that. “It's the only path I recognize in this labyrinth of cursed trees. Believe me, if I had any other option, I wouldn't be anywhere near your demonic ass."

Chan grinned. That grin. Damn it.

"You sure talk a lot for someone who’s pretending not to be obsessed with me, butterfly… maybe you even dream of me?,” he said, stepping forward.

Felix scowled at the nickname. "You wish I was obsessed… Please. I wouldn’t follow you in my worst nightmares, let alone dreams.”

Chan’s grin deepened, dimples flashing. “Wouldn’t mind if you did. Dreams with you sound... thrilling… Wouldn’t mind if you did show up in mine."

Felix blinked. His stomach flipped, and he hated it. What? What?

His face went hot, ears burning. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have a bipolar disorder or something? One day you’re threatening to kill me and the next you’re…. You’re…. this?”

Chan laughed—a genuine, melodic sound that made Felix grit his teeth. God, that smile. Those dimples. It wasn’t fair. Felix had read that demons snarled, hissed, and spat blood and smoke. But this? This was worse. A smile like that should not belong to the enemy. It was charming, dangerous, and utterly unfair.

"What can I say?" Chan said, still laughing. He didn't want to tell him that Princess Rosé advised him not to be too harsh against him in order to win the alliance with his kingdom. "You make it fun. Watching you get flustered is one of  the best part of hating you. Honestly, you’re so fucking angelic it hurts. I swear, if I flirt too hard, you’ll faint like a Victorian maiden."

Felix took a sharp step forward, wings snapping. "I’m not as innocent as you think, demon."

Chan raised a brow. "Oh?" He leaned in, mock-serious. "Have you had your first kiss yet, little feather?"

Felix froze. Again. "I’m not telling you anything about my life," he hissed. "Especially not to some smug, miserable hellhound like you."

Chan grinned wider. "So that’s a no, then.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“But you didn’t say yes either.” Chan sighed dramatically. "Pity. And here I was, just about to offer a night of… fun… Thought maybe we could distract ourselves from our parents' stupid war. But seeing as you’re still a wide-eyed, kissless little chick…” His eyes slid up and down Felix with unholy mischief. "Guess I won’t be the one to take your feathered virginity.”

Felix's mouth opened in disbelief. "You are vile. You are a monster. There is no universe, no alternate dimension, where I would sleep with a hellhound like you… In case you haven't noticed... I hate you with all my being.”

Chan stepped closer again, until they were nearly face to face. "Oh? Because you’re looking at my mouth like you’re wondering what it tastes like."

Felix's eyes widened. The truth hit like lightning. Because for just a second, he had thought that. Just one second. That mouth on his neck. That laugh in his ear. That heat… He pushed Chan, hard.

"Back. Off."

Chan stumbled half a step, laughing like this was all just a game. "I knew you’d be fun, firefly.”

"I hate you."

"Right back at you, your highness.” Then Chan rolled his eyes and sighed like he was bored already. "Gods, it’s not even six in the morning. I do not have the energy to fight angels before coffee."

"Coward."

"Realist."

He brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled—sharp and short. Above them, the air shifted. Wings. Huge ones. A shadow broke across the clearing as a silver blur swept down from the sky. Felix took a step back instinctively as the creature landed with surprising grace for its size. Lunarys. The silver-scaled dragon stood tall, snout raised, claws digging into the soft earth. Her eyes burned gold, intelligent and wary. Smoke curled from her nostrils. Felix's breath caught.

"It’s… beautiful," he said softly.

Chan paused. He turned his head slowly, his cocky smile fading. Felix hadn’t even realized he’d said it out loud. Lunarys snorted, but not aggressively. Lunarys tilted her head slowly. Her massive golden eyes locked onto Felix, unblinking. Felix didn’t flinch. He didn’t bow or back away. He simply smiled, soft and genuine.

“Amazing…,” he murmured.

Chan’s mouth opened slightly, his heart skipping in a way he couldn’t explain. Because Lunarys—his dragon—his, the one who snarled at diplomats and nearly bit his uncle’s arm off, the one who snarled at Chan’s own mother, the one who refused to be touched by even Chan’s closest friends—was relaxed in front of the enemy, an angel. Not just calm. Content. She snorted softly and lowered her head toward Felix.

“Impossible...” Chan said under his breath.

He watched as Lunarys let Felix reach out, hand hovering just beside her jaw, barely brushing against her cheek scales. She didn’t pull away. Her eyes didn’t narrow. Instead, her tail flicked once in satisfaction, and her ears twitched with approval. She liked him. She did like him. What the hell? Chan’s stomach dropped. She was letting him touch her. She was purring. Deep, low, vibrating through her throat like a storm preparing to sleep.

Felix looked at Chan, eyes wide. "She likes me.”

Chan stared at them—angel and beast, both radiant in the morning light—and something inside him twisted. A pressure behind his ribs. It felt... unfamiliar.

“You’re not scared of her?,” Chan said, voice lower now.

Felix didn’t look away. “Why would I be? She’s not a monster… unlike you…”

Chan swallowed.

"Apparently," Chan muttered.

He felt completely off-balance. He hated feeling off-balance.

Felix turned back to the dragon, brushing a hand gently along the curve of her jaw. “She is the most beautiful beast ever…” he said quietly. “…And she’s trusting me… She can feel it."

"Feel what?"

Felix looked back at him.

"That I’m not here to hurt yo—.” Felix stopped when he realised what he was going to say, “…eheh.. I’m not here to hurt her”.

Chan stared. For once, he didn’t know what to say. The clearing felt too still. The usual wall of fire between them had shifted, bent into something else—not soft, not safe, but something like curiosity. Lunarys nosed Felix gently once more, then stepped back, wings rustling. She curled up beside a mossy rock and rested her head, still watching them with one golden eye.

Chan finally cleared his throat and looked away. "Well. I didn’t come here to fight in the morning with you, sunshine, believe it or not… I came to feed her."

He reached into his bag and pulled out four dead hares, tossing them expertly toward the dragon. She caught them with one lazy snap of her jaws.

Felix watched the scene, still stunned. "She’s incredible."

Chan gave a half-smile, a real one this time. "She is."

They stood in silence for a while. Morning crept up slowly, painting the trees with gold.

Felix finally spoke, voice low. "You know this doesn’t change anything, right?"

Chan looked at him.

"We’re still on opposite sides."

Chan nodded. "I know."

"And I still hate you… and I'm going to make your existence miserable.”

"Of course you do…. And I also hate you with all my heart.”

______________________________

Days had passed since the demons and the angels arrived at the Forest Kingdom. The once tense atmosphere had settled into something more tolerable—at least on the surface. It was all a game of masks. An elaborate charade.  The King of the Forest and his court believed their diplomatic gamble was working. They watched as angels and demons greeted each other with tight smiles, nodded with feigned respect, and occasionally shared words that—though polite—dripped with rehearsed tolerance.

But behind closed doors, away from royal eyes, the truth festered. Every time a princess turned her back or a noble walked away, the illusion would crack. Demons and angels alike would bare their fangs—not literally, but close. They’d hiss barbed insults, tease each other mercilessly, push limits with words that bordered on obscene. And underneath all that… the tension built.

That afternoon, the garden basked in soft golden light. The sun poured gently through the high forest canopy, bathing the central courtyard in warmth. Felix lay sprawled on a blanket of moss with I.N. beside him, both shirtless and soaking up the gentle heat. Hyunjin leaned back against a sun-warmed stone, his long blond hair catching the light, while Jisung hummed a melody with his eyes closed. It was, for once, peaceful.

Until it wasn’t.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the far archway. Laughter followed—a low, cocky ripple that broke the stillness like thunder through silence. Felix didn’t have to look. He knew that voice. That irritatingly smug, too-smooth voice. Chan.

“Well, well,” Minho grinned. “Looks like the angels decided to give the world a free show.”

The four demons stood there like they owned the place—lean, muscled, radiating heat and trouble. They looked like they’d stepped out of a nightmare wrapped in sin—and they knew it. They were so fucking hot.

“Sunbathing?” Changbin added, licking his lips. “Didn’t realize the heavens were this generous with their fabric—or lack thereof.”

Seungmin whistled softly. “That one’s almost indecent.” His gaze lingered on I.N., who flicked his hair with practiced grace but rolled his eyes with disdain.

Felix sat up, his jaw tightening. His eyes locked on Chan like a blade unsheathed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered. “Don’t you demons have caves to crawl back into?”

Chan gave a lazy grin. “Aw, little butterfly. You missed me already?”

“I missed silence,” Felix replied, venom in his voice. “Tell me, how are you walking under the sun and not bursting into flames? Oh wait—sorry. I got confused with vampires. But honestly, bloodsucking monsters without a heart? Not that far off… You are the same shit.”

Minho cackled. “That was a good one.”

Chan placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “Wow. Sarcasm and a joke? Look at you, freckles. Developing a personality.”

Felix stood, brushing moss from his hips. “Don’t call me that.”

“But you flutter so prettily when you’re mad.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re wrinkling under the sun,” Chan said, squinting. “Maybe hide that porcelain skin before it cracks. I hear angels age like fruit when exposed too long.”

“I’d rather rot than spend another minute with you.”

“Ouch,” Chan mock winced. “You wound me. But not as badly as that little wrap you call clothing. Seriously—are all angels so... delicately dressed?

“Seriously… do all angels sunbathe like this? Or did you four just want to give us hard-ons?” Changbin asked.

Jisung stood. “It’s traditional bath wear, you heathens.”

Minho smirked. “Traditional wear or easy access?”

Hyunjin’s nostrils flared. “Careful with your words.”

“Or what?” Seungmin challenged. “You’ll smite us with passive-aggressive compliments?”

“I’ll have you know,” Hyunjin replied, voice smooth as silk, “that even with grace and tact, I can destroy your self-esteem.”

“Please do,” Changbin said, eyes sweeping down Hyunjin’s exposed torso. “I love a man who makes me beg.”

Felix felt his face burn. “You’re disgusting. All of you.”

Chan tilted his head, eyes glittering with something dark and amused. “And yet you’re still standing here. Still listening.”

“I was here long before you…. And I’m not going to leave because you are here. Besides… I’m here to protect my friends. Not to entertain your perversions.”

“Protect?” Chan repeated, stepping closer. “From what? Compliments? Desire?”

“From manipulation. From poison.”

Chan leaned in, his voice dropping low. “Is that what you think this is? Poison?”

“I know it is.”

“Funny,” Chan murmured, his gaze slipping lower. “Because I’d call it hunger.”

Felix’s mouth went dry. His mind betrayed him, unspooling an image he didn’t ask for—Chan’s lips trailing down his stomach, tongue sliding over his ribs, hands gripping his thighs. The heat that shot through his body was instant and treacherous. He shoved the thought away like a sinner swatting temptation.

Chan smirked. “Did you just picture something, featherboy?”

Felix clenched his fists. “Go to hell.”

“Already live there. Want a tour?… Because I’m already planning to take you with me.”

Jisung stepped between them. “Maybe that’s enough.”

“No, no,” Changbin said, walking forward. “Let them keep going. I like seeing the little prince blush like that. He gets all... pink.”

I.N. growled, surprisingly fierce. “Watch your mouth.”

Seungmin raised his hands. “Relax, cherub. We’re just appreciating the view.”

“I’m going to burn your wings off,” Felix hissed, stepping closer to Chan.

Felix’s hands trembled at his sides—not from fear, but fury. And maybe something else. Something he couldn’t admit.

Jisung tensed. “Back off, stupid demons!!”

“Why?” Minho said, eyeing him like a meal. “Scared we’ll do more than look?”

“You won’t get the chance,” Hyunjin said coolly, brushing a leaf from his shoulder with graceful disdain.

“You sure?” Changbin drawled. “’Cause I’m starting to think angels secretly want to be defiled.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “We don’t entertain trash.”

“Maybe not,” Changbin said, voice low and hungry. “But I bet you moan real pretty when you’re underneath it.”

Jisung’s jaw clenched. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re mad.”

Felix barely heard them—his entire focus was locked on Chan, who had circled him slowly, eyeing him like prey. Chan could imagine Felix's sweet caresses all over his body, Felix's lips on his, and words full of love. He didn't want to think about that. He wanted to force himself to hate Felix. But the little angel was making it difficult for him with that great temper when he faced Chan, that well-sculpted body, that heavenly face, and those lips that... ugh...

“Still staring?” Felix muttered.

Chan leaned close, his voice a dark whisper. “You have no idea what I’d do to you if you let me.”

“Good thing I won’t,” Felix spat.

Chan chuckled. “Oh, firefly. Everyone has a breaking point.”

“And yours is your ego…. You’re like mold,” Felix snapped. “Always showing up where no one wants you.”

“Careful,” Chan said, stepping closer. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”

Felix’s gaze raked over Chan’s body, then back to his smug face. “Do you even have those?”

“Only when I’m hard.”

“Ugh.”

“Relax, butterfly. I'm just here to enjoy the view.” Chan’s eyes dropped, slow and shameless, to Felix’s bare torso. “I’d risk it to taste you.”

Felix’s stomach did a flip. “You’re revolting.”

“But you’re still here.”

Chan took a final step, and now they were breath apart. Felix could feel the heat radiating from him, could smell the sharp, smoky scent of brimstone and sin.

“You want to know what I think when I look at you?” Chan said, voice like velvet dragging over something raw.

“No, thanks.,” Felix lied.

“I see lips I want around my—”

Felix slapped two hands over his own ears. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Chan laughed against his palm, eyes dancing. “Why? Scared it’ll give you ideas?”

“I already have one,” Felix growled, “and it involves gagging you with a halo.”

“Now we’re getting kinky.”

“Fuck you!!.”

“I’m already dreaming about fucking something… or someone….”

Changbin called out from across the garden, “Hyunjin, quick question—does that outfit come in 'easier to rip off’?”

Hyunjin flipped his hair and deadpanned, “Sorry, beast of the hell. Your hands would turn to ash if they touched something this pure.”

Seungmin leaned over I.N., practically purring. “You’ve got such pretty lips, cherub. Ever used them for something sinful?”

I.N. flushed but stood his ground. “I pray for souls like yours.”

“Then keep praying,” Seungmin said, stepping beside him, “because I’m imagining things that would make heaven weep.”

The angels bristled, wings twitching. Their glow pulsed brighter, defensive and conflicted.

“You’re all beasts,” Felix snapped.

“And you’re all so easy to rattle,” Chan said smoothly. “Look at you—tight-chested, red-faced, skin flushed.”

“I’m not flushed.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re burning up.”

Chan’s gaze dropped to Felix’s waist, then dragged back up. “One tug and I bet that little wrap falls right off.”

Felix stepped forward until they were nearly touching. “Try it, and I’ll rip off the horns of your dragon and shove them so far up your ass, they’ll poke out your throat.”

Chan’s grin widened. “Now we’re talking dirty.”

“You’re the worst thing that ever crawled out of hell.”

“And yet you’re still looking at me like you want to know how I taste… And I can show you, butterfly….”

Felix opened his mouth to shout—but nothing came out.

“Can’t deny it, can you?” Chan whispered, eyes locked on his. “I can see it. Feel it. That little heartbeat of yours—pounding like you’re already in my bed.”

Felix’s hand shook. He hated how right he was.

“I… I…. I want…. To…. Destroy you…”

“You want to destroy me?”

“I do.” Felix said more firmly

“Then start with your mouth.” Chan smiled biting his lip. 

Felix was speechless again. He stared at Chan's lips. He hated him! He hated him so much!!…. Right??

Felix barked a short, coming out of his thoughts “Well, can you disappear and do us all a favor... you fucking cunt.”

Minho leaned toward Jisung. “Do all angels have that dirty mouth? Or just this little prince?”

Jisung’s voice was sharp. “Careful. We might bite.”

“Promises, promises…. I really want you to show me that…”

Hyunjin, still lounging, gave Changbin a once-over. “You’d think demons would have better taste. Or at least better lines.”

“Oh, I’ve got lines,” Changbin said, grinning. “Want to hear the one about the angel and the upside-down kiss?”

I.N. placed a hand over Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Don’t engage. They’re all bark.”

“And a lot of bite,” Seungmin added with a wink.

Felix turned sharply to Chan. “What exactly do you want?”

“Just walking. Enjoying the view.”

“Then walk somewhere else.”

“But this view’s so... tempting.”

Chan’s eyes lingered again, low and slow. Felix could feel it—like a heat crawling up his skin, coiling behind his navel. Damn it. Why did Chan always look at him like that? Like he wasn’t real. Like he was art. Like he was prey.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re planning to eat me.”

Chan’s voice was a purr. “Who says I’m not?”

Felix’s breath hitched. He cursed himself.

“I hate you!!”

Chan stepped closer, close enough to make the sun feel colder. “I hate you more.”

Their faces were inches apart, the space between them charged and buzzing. Around them, angels and demons bickered and teased, but Felix and Chan? They were locked in something else. Something volatile. Dangerous.

And then Chan said it, low and soft:

“I’d bite every inch of your skin. Run my hands up and down your thighs. Make you beg.”

Felix’s heart thundered. He opened his mouth, then shut it. Heat climbed his neck, shame and thrill tangled together like vines.

“What’s the matter, butterfly?” Chan whispered. “Can’t take the heat?”

Felix shoved him back—not hard, but enough. “You’re disgusting.”

Chan caught his balance easily, laughing. “And you’re trembling again.”

“I hope you choke on your own arrogance.”

“I'd rather drown myself in something else…”

“Go fall into a pit.”

“Make me.”

Felix’s lips parted, ready to launch his next insult, but the sudden sound of silver horns interrupted him. A pair of royal guards stepped into the garden clearing.

“All rise,” one called. “The King returns from his ride.”

The air shifted. Even the demons straightened slightly, aware of the eyes that might now be watching.

Chan let out a soft chuckle. “Well, looks like playtime’s over.” He turned to his companions with a lazy wave. “Let’s go. We’ve teased the light moths enough for today.”

Felix scoffed. “About time.”

But just before leaving, Chan cast one final glance over his shoulder—directly at Felix.

“If you change your mind,” he said, voice like velvet sin, “my room’s in the North Tower.” His gaze darkened. “Or, we can always meet again at sunset on the High Cliff. Like the night we met.”

Felix’s heart stuttered violently in his chest. He remembered that evening too vividly—the quiet, the warmth of the fading sun, the way Chan had looked at him then. How gentle Chan was with him before either of them knew the weight of their names. But that was before he knew Chan was the Prince of the Underworld. Before everything got complicated.

Felix tightened his jaw. “I'd rather jump off that cliff than meet you there again.”

Chan just smirked, maddeningly unbothered. “Then I’ll think of you when I’m taking care of myself tonight, prince Felix.”

Felix’s face flushed crimson. “You—!”

But the demon prince had already turned, laughing with his friends as they disappeared between the trees.

The moment they were out of sight, Felix let out a growl of frustration. His wings burst open, golden-white and radiant, and with one powerful leap he shot into the air, yelling at the top of his lungs:

“AAAHH I HATE BANG CHAN!!!”

His scream echoed through the treetops.

Below him, Jisung, Hyunjin, and I.N. just laughed.

“Gods,” Jisung said, flopping onto the grass again, “why are the demons so hot?”

“Right?” Hyunjin sighed, still dazed. “Like... filthy, but sexy.”

“I’d let Seungmin call me ‘cherub’ again,” I.N. muttered, clearly conflicted.

Felix glared down from above, flapping hard to release his rage. “You’re all insane! They’re monsters!”

“Hot monsters,” Hyunjin corrected.

Felix nearly fell from the sky in exasperation. “I swear I’m going to kill you all before the demons do.”

But inside, even as the sun warmed his skin and the wind roared past his wings, he couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest. The way Chan had looked at him. And the way his name sounded on that damned demon’s lips. Felix soared higher, as if flying fast enough could outrun the truth beating in his traitorous heart.

Chapter Text

The forest kingdom woke early with a strange kind of energy hanging in the air—tension wrapped in silk. Whispers of the coming week buzzed in every corridor and courtyard: the King was planning a combat competition. Not just for entertainment or diplomacy, but for evaluation.

The demons had been granted temporary sanctuary. The angels had tolerated their presence—barely. But now, the King wanted to see more than manners and masks. He wanted to see instinct. Strategy. Survival.

It was said the event would test strength, agility, intelligence, and ruthlessness. Not just who could fight—but who could think. Who could endure. Who could strike first, and who could remain standing last.

The princes would represent their sides. Felix was one of them. And Chan, inevitably, the other.

Word had it the King was watching for more than performance—he was gauging who would be the better ally in war. If a pact with Heaven was to be made, or if the demons from the Underworld had more to offer.

Felix hated it. Not the training—he loved that. But being paraded around like a prize stallion in some twisted game of loyalty? Disgusting.

Still, duty was duty.

That morning, he was up before the sun fully warmed the treetops. His wings stretched lazily behind him as he took to the skies, the wind biting at his skin through his training cloak. The only thing that made these mornings bearable was the peace. The quiet. The lack of him.

Chan hadn’t been around lately. Not in the training fields. Not even lurking near the dining halls like usual. And Felix, though he told himself he was glad, had caught himself looking over his shoulder more than once.

He wasn’t thinking about that now. Not while the wind rushed past his ears and the emerald canopy of the forest blurred beneath him. He angled downward, gliding toward the familiar clearing—a wide stretch of mossy earth framed by trees and sunlight.

He landed in silence, wings folding in behind him. He rolled his shoulders, shook the tension from his arms. Finally, alone.

Or so he thought. A soft grunt split the morning air. Felix’s eyes narrowed. No. No. No. No. Of course the universe would ruin his one moment of calm…. Although his heart beat rapidly upon seeing Chan again.

Felix crossed his arms, his voice flat. “You again?… what are you doing here?”

Chan didn’t look surprised to see him. In fact, he looked pleased. His lips curled lazily around a smirk, the kind that made Felix’s jaw clench on instinct.

“Morning, featherboy,” he said. “Didn’t know you claimed this patch of dirt.”

“I don’t. But I figured it was finally safe from pests.”

Chan laughed. “Tch. That mouth of yours. You kiss holy relics with it?”

Felix stepped forward, irritation prickling down his spine. “I asked you a question.”

Chan raised an eyebrow. “Which was?”

“What are you doing here. Again.”

Chan shrugged and gestured toward the massive silver-scaled creature dozing behind him. “Don’t know if you remember, but I’ve got a dragon to feed.”

Felix’s brow furrowed. “Funny. The past few mornings she’s gone unfed…. I was just wondering if your dragon had starved.”

Chan grinned. “Missed me, then?”

Felix exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Keep dreaming!.”

“Butterfly.... in my dreams either I've killed you or you're underneath me taking my cock really good… and I always prefer the last one….”

Felix blushed profusely at those words. "You really need to see a spiritual psychiatrist or someone... you need treatment urgently… I only care about your dragon, asshole,” Felix snapped. “That is why I asked.”

Chan gave a lazy shrug. "She’s ok…. But fine, since you care so deeply…” he said with a hint of irony. “… We alternate hunting patterns. You know... variety.  Like you angels with your little food groups: meat, fish, fruit, rainwater, whatever. My dragon hunts differently depending on the day. Sometimes it’s forest prey. Other times lake beasts. Day hunts. Night hunts. You get the idea.”

Felix didn’t respond immediately—he was too focused on removing his cloak, wings stretching as he rolled his shoulders. The movement was purely practical. But Chan’s eyes latched onto him like he was prey, not a sparring partner.

“Gods,” Chan muttered, “you stretch like a sin I wanna commit twice.”

Felix glanced over his shoulder, unimpressed. “That supposed to fluster me?”

“Not fluster. Just… inform,” Chan said, stepping closer. “You should know what you do to the prince of the Hell. Especially in that tight little tank top.”

Felix’s brow arched. “Careful. You’re drooling, highness.”

Chan smirked. “Better than praying.”

“Try it sometime,” Felix said. “Could burn some of that filth off your soul.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Chan murmured, eyes dropping again—not even pretending to be subtle. “Though if we’re talking burning, I could think of better ways to get heat between us.”

Felix snorted, amused despite himself. “Is that all you think about?”

“No,” Chan said, grinning. “I think about how you'd sound saying my name while you arch under—”

“Enough,” Felix interrupted, raising a hand. “I’m not one of your demon groupies.”

“Oh, I know.” Chan’s voice dipped lower. “You’re worse. You’ve got morals. That holy little temper. Makes it so much more fun to mess with you.”

Felix rolled his eyes and moved to the center of the clearing. “I came to train. Not get harassed by a walking scandal.”

“Who says we can’t do both?” Chan asked, following him in like a shadow. “Sparring’s better when you’ve got tension.”

“You are the tension.”

Chan grinned. “And yet, here you are, still talking to me.”

“Still hoping you spontaneously combust,” Felix muttered, shooting him a warning glance.

Chan stepped closer, practically toe-to-toe. “You know what I think?”

Felix didn’t answer, jaw tense.

“I think you love this. The back and forth. The fire,” Chan whispered, voice like smoke. “I think you crave the chase, angel boy. Just scared of what happens if I catch you.”

Felix didn’t back down. “If you ever caught me, you'd spend the rest of your days recovering in a holy infirmary.”

Chan laughed. “Gods, you’d look so pretty standing over me in a torn tunic. Blood on your cheek. Sword in your hand. Pity in your eyes.”

“Correction,” Felix said, smirking now. “Victory in my eyes.”

“Oooh, is that the famous angel confidence?” Chan drawled. “Bet you whisper affirmations to yourself while polishing your halo.”

“I polish blades, not halos.”

“Hot,” Chan said immediately.

Felix shook his head, exasperated—but smiling faintly and then trying to hide it by putting on a grumpy face. “You’re impossible.”

Chan gave a dramatic sigh. “Why so grumpy, little angel? Nervous you won’t measure up when the King starts judging us?”

“I’m not nervous,” Felix said through clenched teeth.

Chan’s smile was slow and wicked. “You should be. I’m amazing under pressure.”

“I’m sure you are. Bet you’ve had lots of practice being pinned down.”

“Oh, angel,” Chan purred, stepping even closer. “You do think about me that way.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed despite his best efforts. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re blushing,” Chan pointed out, pleased.

“Because I’m angry.”

“Sure. That’s what we’ll call it.”

Felix took a deep breath, trying to ignore how close Chan had gotten. “The King wants to see who’s worth trusting. This isn’t some playground brawl. It’s politics. Strategy. Power. So unless you came here to study battle theory—”

“Is that what you call stripping in the woods now?” Chan interrupted, eyes roaming over Felix’s body as he peeled off his cloak and flexed his wings.

Felix blinked. “Excuse me?”

Chan licked his lips slowly. “Tank top. Wings out. Sweaty. I’d call that a fantasy come true.”

“You’re a menace.” Felix rubbed at his temples. “You’re the worst thing to happen to diplomacy since poisoned wine.”

Chan chuckled. “And yet, here we are. Alone…”

“Coincidence.”

“Fate.”

“Bad luck.”

“Foreplay.”

Felix shot him a glare so sharp it could have sliced bark.

But Chan didn’t back down. If anything, he moved even closer, until they stood just a breath apart. “I know what this competition means,” he said, his voice lower now. “I’m not stupid. The King wants to see who’s smarter, deadlier. Who can lead in war.”

“So stop playing around and act like it,” Felix snapped.

“I am acting,” Chan murmured. “Acting like myself. You think just because I flirt with the enemy, I’m not watching? Not learning?”

Felix hesitated.

Chan leaned closer, their noses almost brushing. “When you see what I can do in battle. Imagine what I could do in bed.”

Felix shoved him backward with both hands. “You are the most unholy creature I’ve ever met.”

Chan laughed as he stumbled, catching his balance. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart.”

“You’re lucky I don’t smite for sport.”

“You’re lucky I like it rough.”

Felix opened his mouth—then laughed, sharp and sudden. “Okay. You win that one.”

Chan’s eyes lit up. “Finally! My charm breaks through the celestial wall.”

Felix rolled his shoulders again, wings flicking out briefly. “Don’t get excited. Even a broken clock gets one line right.”

“You saying you wanna test how right I can be?”

Felix watched him with amused disdain. “Is that your line with everyone?”

“Only the pretty ones,” Chan said, eyes roaming again.

“Then your standards must be extremely low.”

“Wrong. They’re unholy,” he whispered, leaning just close enough to feel Felix’s exhale. “And you’re the worst temptation I’ve ever seen.”

Felix’s voice dropped. “You keep talking like that and I’ll be forced to prove I’m the worst thing to happen to you.”

Chan shivered theatrically. “Please do.”

Felix chuckled. “Are you like this with everyone?”

“Nope,” Chan said easily. “Just you.”

“Why? Seriously… why?… I hate you, you hate me, we are enemies, and you still…. You're trying to have something with me?”

“I don't want to have anything at all with you, little sunshine." Chan lied trying to hide his feelings. "But that doesn't mean you're fucking beautiful and I'd like to have sex with you… and use you and ruin you and bye.…” He looked at Felix in shock and he changes topic. “…And because you’re the only one who tries so hard not to smile when I say filthy things.”

Felix froze for half a second, lips betraying him with the ghost of a grin.

Chan pointed. “There it is.”

“Shut up.”

“Nope. Not until you agree to train with me.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Absolutely not.”

Chan pouted, fake and exaggerated. “Scared you’ll lose?”

“Scared I’ll waste my time.”

“Oh come on, firefly, don’t act like you’re not dying to see if you can actually beat me.”

Felix tilted his head, lips quirking. “I already know I can.”

“Then prove it. Unless your delicate little hands can only handle prayer beads.”

Felix laughed. A real one this time. “You just love being beaten, don’t you?”

“Only if it’s by you,” Chan winked.

Felix stepped right into his space. “If I wanted to take you down, I’d do it with one hand.”

Chan’s eyes flicked to his lips. “Is that what you want to do with one hand?”

Felix inhaled sharply. “You’re revolting.”

“And yet your wings twitch every time I talk.”

“They twitch because I want to slap you into next week.”

“I’d moan your name on the way down…. while my hands run over those tight thighs of yours…”

Felix’s breath hitched.

Chan grinned wider, stepping even closer. “You know, you can insult me all you want, freckles. But your pupils dilate every time I mention your thighs.”

Felix stepped back before he could combust.

“You think I’m playing?” Chan asked softly. “I’ve imagined it. Your skin under my tongue. Your breath in my mouth. The way you'd sound if I—”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

Chan merely raised an eyebrow. “Uuuhh angel… that dirty mouth….Too much?”

Felix exhaled hard, pointing a finger in his face. “As I told you before… You need therapy. Deep, spiritual therapy.”

“I tried,” Chan said. “Then I saw you and gave up on redemption.”

“You’re going to lose this competition.”

“Why? Because you’ll be too pretty to hit?”

“Because I’m smarter. Faster. Better.”

“Cockier too.”

Felix smirked. “You’re intimidated.”

Chan leaned in until their foreheads almost touched. “I’m turned on, not intimidated.”

Felix pushed him back with one finger to the chest. “You’re sick.” Felix turned away again, wings flaring slightly—part frustration, part flustered reflex.

Chan’s voice followed. “So? We doing this or what?”

Felix sighed dramatically. “If I say yes, will you shut up?

Chan nodded.

“Fine. We’ll train.” Felix said.

“Together?”

“Yes….” Felix rolled his eyes.

“Just us?”

“You keep talking and I’ll reconsider.”

"I was just joking about training together, little prince..." Chan teased. "But if you insist…” Felix looked at him wanting to kill him. “…It will be fun. Strategic combat. Brains and brawn. You and me, going head to head. Sweaty. Breathless. Pressed close.”

“Stop,” Felix warned, heart thumping.

“Do you think about it?” Chan asked, voice low. “Me pinning you down? You trying to break free?”

“I’d break you first…. I will destroy you, demon!”

Chan grinned so wide it was nearly blinding. “Gods, I love it when you act like you’re in charge.”

Felix looked over his shoulder with a smirk that stopped Chan’s heart for a beat. “Oh, I am in charge. You’ll learn that real quick.”

“Careful,” Chan said, biting his lip. “That tone does things to me.”

Felix shook his head, turning back. “Try not to cry when I humiliate you.”

Chan exhaled slowly, eyes sparkling with heat. “I can’t wait to be humiliated by you.”

That stopped Felix. Just for a second. He looked up toward the treetops, sighed deeply, and muttered, “I’m going to regret this.”

Chan’s grin softened into something warmer. “No, you won’t.”

_____________________________

The clearing had changed. Not in shape or size, not in the way the sun filtered through the trees—but in something less visible and far more dangerous. Now, it had two creatures circling each other like a matchstick hovering above oil.

Felix stood at the edge, stretching silently, his wings unfurled behind him. The tips shimmered in the early light, radiant white that practically glowed against the moss. He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, focused.

Until he heard the telltale sound of cloth being dragged over skin. He looked.

Chan stood just a few paces away, his tunic already tossed over a nearby branch. Bare from the waist up, lean muscles catching light and shadow, a tattoo slashing across his ribs in infernal script. Three symbols, like three viking runes. His skin looked sun-warmed and golden, with tiny scars that told stories Felix didn’t dare ask about. Felix tried to look away. He failed. His teeth found his bottom lip, sinking in ever so slightly.

Chan noticed. Of course he noticed.

“Biting your lip already, little angel?” Chan asked, voice velvet-thick. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Felix exhaled sharply through his nose. “You’re not going to.”

“Mm.” Chan rolled his shoulders, then cracked his neck. “No promises.”

Felix averted his gaze and focused on the space between them. The rules were simple: no weapons, no powers. Just hand-to-hand, reflexes, balance, control. That last one was already wearing thin.

Chan glanced at Felix’s wings and grinned. “Wings out, huh?”

Felix nodded once. “I fight better that way.”

“Ok, so in that case...,” Chan said. “it’s only fair then…”

He stepped back, closed his eyes, and in one clean motion, black-beautiful-perfect wings erupted from his back. Sleek and curved at the tips like daggers. Unlike Felix’s feathered grace, these looked like something born in a pit of fire.

Chan flexed them dramatically. “There. Now it’s equal.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “Since when do demons care about fair?”

Chan smirked. “Since I didn’t want to accidentally stain the princess’ snowy little feathers… yet.”

Felix ignored the flutter in his chest and adopted a defensive stance. “You talk too much.”

“You listen too hard.”

“Ready?” Felix asked, ignoring the ache in his lip where he’d bitten it.

“Always for you,” Chan said, and lunged.

The first round was fast, sharp, and clean. Punches dodged. Kicks blocked. Wings flared in warning. Each movement was calculated, the tension growing tighter with every near miss. Felix spun low, aiming for Chan’s legs. Chan leapt, wings flaring to catch the lift, and landed behind him.

A smirk danced on his lips as he whispered, “Nice footwork. You dance… elegant but with purpose.”

Felix’s heel caught Chan’s ankle. Chan stumbled.

“Slipped?” Felix teased.

“Got distracted by your thighs.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now—and Chan saw it. The second round was slower. More focused. Chan attacked from the side, a flurry of precise strikes that forced Felix to step back.

Felix blocked the last one and countered—fist raised— Only for Chan to catch it mid-air. Their hands collided. But instead of letting go, Chan held on. Longer than necessary. Much longer. Felix’s breath hitched. Chan’s fingers wrapped around his fist—not roughly, but gently, almost reverently. His thumb moved, just slightly, stroking the back of Felix’s knuckles. Slow. Intimate. Exploring. 

God... his touch is so delicate for a demon… I would love his hands on my…… Shut up Felix! Don’t think about this!

Felix didn’t pull away. Neither did Chan. They stared at each other. Something dangerous passed between them. It was quiet, like a fuse being lit. The kind of silence before something burned.

“Your hands,” Chan murmured, voice gone husky. “Softer than I thought.”

Felix’s voice was lower than usual. “Years of sacred oils.”

Chan laughed, but it came out more like a sigh. “Sacred. Yeah. That’s the word I’d use to describe you.”

Felix swallowed and bit his lip. He didn’t even realize his other hand had risen until it hovered near Chan’s shoulder. But he didn’t touch. Not yet. Chan’s gaze dropped to his mouth.

“You keep biting that lip,” he said, “I’m gonna think you want me to.”

The moment broke like glass. Felix ripped his hand back, yanking his fist out of Chan’s grip. “Focus, beast of the hell.”

“Trying,” Chan said under his breath. “But you keep getting in the way, sunshine.”

They reset. But the air between them had shifted. They danced again—more frantic now. Felix went in for a sweeping kick. Chan dodged, spun, and countered. Felix ducked. They moved too fast. Felix’s boot slid on wet moss. His balance tipped.

Chan reacted instantly. Strong arms caught him mid-fall, one around his waist, the other steadying him with a hand flat against his stomach. Felix’s hands, instinctively, landed on the first thing in front of him— Chan’s bare chest. The contact was electric. Both froze.

Holy hells, his waist— How is he this small? This delicate? Gods…. I want to touch him more… I’d sell my wings to feel his mouth instead of his hands…. Don’t let go yet. Just… a little longer.

Felix’s fingers curled slightly, feeling the warmth of skin beneath his palms. Smooth. Firm. He didn’t mean to leave his hands there. But they stayed. 

Oh shit, oh shit... Felix, don't get hard! Think of the little animals in the forest... think of... God... what a body this damn demon has.

Chan’s fingers tightened around Felix’s waist. His thumb traced a slow line along the edge of his hipbone, just above his waistband.

“Mm,” Chan hummed. “You feel insane under me.”

Felix tried to move. He didn’t.

“You okay, butterfly?” Chan asked, voice quieter now.

Felix finally looked up. Their faces were inches apart. Chan’s breath was warm on his cheek. His eyes, normally full of mischief, were... curious. Like he was memorizing Felix’s expression.

“Let go,” Felix whispered.

“Say please.”

Felix’s wings flared. Chan felt the shift in air.

“You’re going to regret this,” Felix muttered.

Chan smiled like the devil himself. “God, I hope so.”

Felix shoved him back, and they both took a moment—each recovering more from the touch than the fall.

“Round three?” Chan asked, rolling his neck, eyes still a little glazed.

Felix nodded. “Final one.”

“I hope not.”

This time, they didn’t hesitate. Their bodies collided again—heat, speed, tension, wings brushing, breaths catching. Felix spun into a punch—Chan ducked, twisting behind him, arm snaking around his waist. Felix elbowed him in the ribs, broke the hold, flipped them. Chan retaliated with a sweep that brought them both crashing to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs and feathers.

Felix ended up on top. Both were panting, eyes wild, bodies flush against each other.

Chan grinned up at him. “If this is how you win fights, I volunteer to lose every time.”

Felix didn’t move. His hands were pressed against Chan’s bare shoulders, knees bracketing his hips. Their chests rose and fell in tandem, sweat glistening between them.

“You talk too much,” Felix muttered again.

“You touch too nice.”

Felix didn’t move. Chan’s hands slid slowly up his thighs, stopping at the sides of his hips. Felix's whole body shivered. His heart was about to jump out of his mouth.

“See? You’re not moving. Which means you’re thinking about it.”

“I’m thinking about punching you.”

Chan’s voice dropped. “I’d thank you if you used your mouth.”

Felix stared down at him. “You really have no shame.”

“And you really have no poker face.”

They stayed like that for several more seconds. Then Felix pushed off of him, standing in one smooth motion, wings flexing.

Chan sat up slowly, grinning. “Next time I pin you, I’m staying longer.”

“Assuming you get the chance,” Felix said, brushing moss off his thighs. “Which you won’t.”

Chan’s gaze followed the movement. “Keep talking like that and I’m going to have to spar you against a wall.”

Felix turned to shoot him a glare, but Chan was already walking toward the water canteen slung nearby. He took a sip and tossed it to Felix. Felix caught it easily.

“Not bad, angel,” Chan said, wiping sweat from his brow. “You’re quick. Sharp. Dangerous.”

Felix took a sip and tossed it back. “You’re reckless. Sloppy. Overconfident.”

Chan grinned. “You left out sexy.”

Felix smirked. “That was implied.”

Chan froze. Felix’s smile widened just a little. And for the first time, Chan didn’t have a comeback. Felix walked past him, wings half-folded. 

“Same time tomorrow?” Chan turned, eyes locked on him like a hunter. 

"Never again..." Felix shouted. "I only used you to see your strategies when moving and taking punches... now I know what your Achilles heel is.”

Chan snickered as he said, “You… little dragonfly…”

Chapter Text

Felix closed the door behind him, his back pressed against the wood as it clicked shut with a soft thud. His breath was uneven, and his heart—it hadn’t stopped racing since training. If you could even call it training. He had spent more time in Chan’s arms than on his feet. More time feeling than fighting. More time trembling than defending. The scent of sweat and heat still lingered on his skin. His shirt clung to him, and the ghost of Chan’s touch burned along his waist, where demon hands had steadied him. Caught him. Held him.

Felix exhaled a shaky breath and stumbled to the bed, dropping down onto the edge like his legs couldn’t hold him anymore. He rubbed his face, trying to shake the image of Chan’s chest—bare and scarred, beautiful in a wild, dangerous way. And that tattoo, curling up from his hipbone like whispered sin. Words in a language Felix wasn’t meant to understand. He didn’t need to know the translation. He already felt cursed.

His hands dropped from his face, and that’s when the tears started. No sobs. Just hot, helpless tears rolling down his cheeks before he could stop them.

“Why,” he whispered to himself. “Why does it have to be him?”

The more he wiped his eyes, the more the tears came. He hated this. Hated the way Chan made him feel. Every time Chan smirked, every time he made some filthy, teasing comment, Felix’s stomach twisted—not with disgust, but with desire. He craved those words. That attention. That touch. He hated the way Chan laughed like the world was his playground. He hated how he couldn’t stop watching him.

That man was a walking storm: beautiful, magnetic, powerful. Felix felt like he was being pulled in with no way out. And the worst part? He didn’t want to get out. He wanted to stay. He wanted to lean into Chan’s warmth. He wanted—

Felix shook his head violently. “No,” he whispered. “No, no, no…”

He wrapped his arms around himself and bent forward, trying to breathe. His heart ached like it was splitting in two. Because one part of him—his soul—had seen the real Chan. The man who gently fed his dragon with patient hands and called it sweet names under his breath. The man who kissed the beast's snout like it was a precious thing.

But the other half of his heart screamed in warning. He’s a demon. He’ll ruin you. He’ll use you. He’ll break your wings and smile while he does it.

And that fear was louder than any desire. A choked sob escaped his throat.

I’m losing myself…

Then, without warning—The door burst open.

“Lix! Do you have—whoa, what the hell?”

Felix looked up just as Jisung barged in holding a compact mirror and a tube of concealer, only to freeze mid-step when he saw Felix’s tear-streaked face.

“Felix…” Jisung dropped everything and rushed over. “Hey, hey—what happened? What’s going on?”

Felix shook his head. “Nothing. It’s—it’s stupid.”

Jisung sat beside him without hesitation and pulled him into a hug. “You’re crying, so it’s not stupid. What is it? Did someone hurt you? Did Bang Chan say something?”

Felix didn’t answer. He just let himself fall into Jisung’s embrace, clinging to him like a lifeline.

Jisung’s hand rubbed gentle circles on his back. “Talk to me. Please.”

Felix kept his eyes low, breathing shallow and shaky, the salt of his tears drying on his cheeks. He couldn’t look up—not yet.

“I’m just…” he whispered, voice thin and cracked, “…stressed.” Felix lied. He couldn’t say where his tears were really coming from. 

Jisung tilted his head. “From training?”

Felix laughed softly, bitterly. “From everything, Ji. The training. The pretending. The constant weight on my chest like I’m supposed to be someone flawless or I’m a failure.”

Jisung didn’t speak, letting Felix empty himself.

“The competition. The pressure to impress the king. To prove I’m the angel they can trust. The one my father raised me to be. The perfect soldier, the golden son of our people.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Do you know how exhausting it is to smile and bow and stay upright when all I want to do is scream and run and break? and Chan... being Chan... the fights with that demon…”

“That last part seems to get to you most,” Jisung said softly, but knowingly. “The fighting. The games.”

Felix bit his lip.

“So… it’s Chan,” Jisung clarified. “Right?”

Felix finally looked up at him, eyes glassy and swollen. His throat moved as he swallowed. “It’s not what you think.”

Jisung shrugged casually. “I think you have feelings for him.”

Felix blinked like he'd been slapped.

“I—” he choked, shaking his head. “I’m not—I can’t be.”

“Can’t be, or don’t want to admit it?”

Felix stared. His silence said everything.

Jisung leaned back a little. “You think no one noticed? That you were subtle? Felix, you light up when he teases you. Every time he calls you princess, butterfly, featherboy, firefly… or corners you with that smug grin, your eyes sparkle like you’re fighting back a smile. You act offended, but your body leans toward him, not away.”

Felix felt his heart trying to crawl out of his chest.

“And when he looks at you,” Jisung added, his voice lower, more intimate, “you melt. Even if your face says otherwise.”

Felix’s defenses cracked. Tears welled in Felix’s eyes again, but this time, they didn’t fall quiet. They came with gasps. With heaving sobs that curled his spine and crushed his chest like it couldn’t hold the pain anymore.

“I hate this,” he cried, gripping Jisung’s arms like he might disappear. “I hate that it’s him. Why does it have to be him?” Felix closed his furiously, teeth gritted. “He’s supposed to be the enemy. He’s supposed to be dangerous, and wicked, and everything I was raised to fight. But when he touches me…” His voice cracked. “I forget who I am.”

Jisung's face softened, a shadow of something heavy flashing in his eyes. “Oh, Felix…”

“I’m an angel, Ji. I’m supposed to know better.”

“But you’re also you,” Jisung said, brushing Felix’s hair from his face. “With a heart. And it beats. And sometimes it beats for the wrong people.”

Felix shook his head. “Not just the wrong person. The worst person. If anyone in Heaven knew… If my father or my mother—”

His breath caught. He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Jisung knew. There would be no trial. No mercy. No hesitation. His family would tear the wings from his back and call it justice. And he would die not for what he’d done—but for who he’d felt something for. Just the idea of loving someone like Chan was enough to earn a death sentence.

Felix’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I think… I think…. I love him.”

The silence after those words was suffocating. Jisung’s lips parted, but he said nothing at first. Just stared. Heartbreak flickering behind his eyes.

“Then you have to be more careful than ever,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “Because they’ll never let you survive it.”

Felix’s chest shook. “I know. I know, and it’s killing me.”

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I’m trying to ignore it. I push him away. I act like I can’t stand him. I say the worst things to him just so he won’t see what I feel.”

“And does it work?”

Felix looked at him, a pitiful smile trembling on his lips. “He just smirks like he already knows. Like he’s waiting for me to break.”

Jisung’s expression darkened with understanding. “He’s dangerous, Lix.”

“I know. And that’s what scares me.” His fingers curled in the fabric of Jisung’s shirt. “Because even knowing that, I’d still let him ruin me.”

Jisung closed his eyes for a moment, like the weight of those words crushed them both.

He took a breath. “I get it.”

Felix looked at him. “Do you?”

Jisung hesitated.

Then he said quietly, “I see the way Minho looks at me.”

Felix stilled.

Jisung’s eyes shimmered. “He never says anything outright. But it’s in the way he moves when I enter a room. In the way he corners me with that smirk like he knows every weak spot I have. Like he’s already undressed my soul and is deciding what part to burn first.”

Felix said nothing. Because he understood. He felt the same.

“And I tell myself he’s evil,” Jisung whispered. “That he’s cruel. That he is a damn demon. That he’d tear me apart just to see what color I bleed.”

“Wouldn’t he?” Felix asked, voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” Jisung confessed. “But God, Felix—some nights, I dream about him. And when I wake up, my hands are trembling and I feel guilty for wanting him. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting him again.”

Felix’s eyes filled again. “I thought I was alone,” he whispered.

“You’re not,” Jisung said, clutching his hand. “We’re both trapped. Just on different sides of the same prison… Although… Sorry to say it, but you're more screwed than I am... You're the future king of Heaven in love with the future king of the Underworld...”

They sat in silence. The air between them thick with secrets. With hearts pounding too loud in chests that were never meant to love this way.

Felix wiped his eyes again. “I just keep thinking… what if I gave in? What if I let myself fall?”

Jisung didn’t answer.

Felix stared at the floor. “Would it be so awful to feel happy, even if it’s only for a moment?”

Jisung leaned his head on Felix’s shoulder. “I ask myself that every day.”

“And?”

“And I still don’t have the courage.”

Felix swallowed the lump in his throat. “Me neither.”

Another silence passed between them. But this one felt more like surrender than fear.

Jisung spoke first, his voice softer. “You ever wish it had been someone else? That it could’ve been easy?”

“Every day,” Felix whispered. “But if it was someone else… I don’t think I’d feel it this deep. I don’t think I’d shake when he touches me. I don’t think my whole body would ache just from being close.”

Jisung nodded slowly. “Yeah. Me too.”

Felix met his eyes. “So what do we do?”

Jisung thought for a moment. “We survive. We pretend. We stay strong. And we hold onto each other when it gets too heavy.”

Felix smiled weakly. “That’s not very heroic.”

“No,” Jisung said, wrapping his arm around Felix again. “But it’s the only thing we can do right now.”

They sat there, two angels with broken hearts, clinging to one another while the world spun too fast outside.

Felix finally whispered, “Promise me something.”

“Anything.” Jisung answered.

“If I ever fall too far…”

Jisung turned toward him, eyes serious.

“Pull me back,” Felix begged. “Don’t let me disappear into him.”

Jisung’s voice broke. “Only if you promise the same.”

Felix met his gaze.“Deal,” he said.

____________________________________

The golden light of the setting sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows and bathing the forest in a soft amber glow. A breeze stirred the leaves, carrying with it the scent of pine and moss and the faintest trace of sugar—remnants from the pastries at tea earlier.

Chan sat with his back against a tree trunk, one arm resting on his knee, the other absently petting the gleaming silver scales of Lunarys, curled protectively beside him. Her long body shimmered in the fading light like molten metal, a living sculpture forged from moonlight and starlight—ironic, given the way the sun warmed her now.

She shifted, coiling herself tighter, and laid her head down near his thigh. Chan sighed. His thoughts were far from peaceful.

“Felix,” he whispered, the name slipping out like a secret too heavy to hold anymore.

That angel. That fucking angel had lodged himself deep in Chan’s chest and refused to leave. And it made no sense. No sense at all. Out of every creature, every being, every demon or nymph or prince or soldier… why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be the one person Chan could never have?

Felix wasn’t just beautiful—though he was, unfairly so. Felix with his endless legs, his toned arms, and that waist Chan had accidentally touched today. Accidentally, his ass. He still hadn’t recovered from the feel of his hands on that impossibly soft skin, the tension in Felix’s stomach under his palms, and the weight of those delicate hands pressed against his chest. And those eyes—those impossibly blue, burning eyes—had stared into his with something electric. Something forbidden. Something real. It drove him insane. Felix’s mouth. Those lips—Chan could write odes to those lips. He’d swear his loyalty, burn the kingdom to the ground, and salt the earth if he could just taste them once.

Gods. He was losing his mind.

But it wasn’t just that. It was the fire. The way Felix met his every tease with a glare or a bite of wit. The way he didn’t bow, didn’t tremble, didn’t pretend. He stood tall even when he was shaking. He insulted Chan to his face and refused to play the role of helpless angel. Chan admired the hell out of him for it. Admired him too much.

His gaze drifted to the way Lunarys’s silver wings shimmered in the light as she breathed. He reached out and ran a hand along her smooth scales.

“You cursed me, butterfly,” he muttered. “You didn’t even need to touch me to ruin me.”

A sharp bump against his side pulled him from his spiral. Lunarys was nudging him again with her snout, huffing softly like she could feel the storm inside him.

“What?” he asked. “You trying to knock sense into me?”

She bumped him again, more insistent.

“I know,” he groaned. “I know. I shouldn’t be thinking about him.”

He leaned his head back against the bark, closing his eyes. “But I can’t stop.”

Lunarys let out a low growl of disapproval—or maybe it was understanding. Chan wasn’t sure anymore.

“He’s in my head,” he confessed. “All the time. Every second.”

Her head settled in his lap again, warm and heavy. Chan stared at the canopy above them, the sun catching in the leaves like fire through glass.

“I should hate him,” he said quietly. “He’s everything I was raised to destroy. An angel. A symbol of the Light. My worst enemy.” He exhaled slowly. “And yet, when I look at him…”

His voice faltered.

“…when I look at him, I see everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Lunarys blinked slowly, golden eyes fixed on him. She didn’t judge. She never did.

“He’s so fucking brave,” Chan whispered. “The way he talks back. The way he challenges me. He doesn’t cower, doesn’t fall into the little boxes everyone else does. He’s…” Chan shook his head. “He’s alive. And he’s real. And gods, I love that about him.”

A breeze picked up, rustling the leaves above. Light danced across Lunarys’s scales like water, glimmering.

“And don’t even get me started on how he looks,” Chan muttered, bitter and awestruck. “That face… that ridiculous little nose, and those eyes—those deep, ice-blue eyes that look at me like they see through everything. That mouth.” He groaned. “That fucking mouth. I’d burn down kingdoms for those lips. I’d kiss each freckle. Every single one.”

Lunarys snorted softly, pressing her snout into his ribs.

He laughed, but it was a fragile sound. “Yeah, you saw it too, huh? You let him touch you. You purred for him. You’ve never done that for anyone else.”

She gave a low hum, something like approval.

Chan stroked the curve of her neck. “You like him.”

A soft growl answered him.

“I do too,” he admitted. “More than I should. More than I can.”

He rubbed his face with both hands, frustration bubbling up again. “But there’s no future in this. You know that. I know that.”

He looked down at her, tears stinging behind his eyes, throat tight.

“If my father knew… if my court knew… if my kingdom knew…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

“They’d hang me in the square,” he whispered. “Tear off my wings. Call me traitor. Make a public example of me. They would kill me.” His voice cracked. “Because I fell in love with an angel.”

Lunarys nudged his chin with her snout, almost gently.

He chuckled bitterly. “No, not just an angel. The most beautiful angel who’s ever walked this cursed world. The one person I’m not allowed to want…. The prince of Heaven, the Celestials.”

He turned his face away from the light, burying it in his arm. “Why couldn’t it have been someone else?”

No answer. Just the quiet warmth of his dragon’s breath.

“I should hate him,” he whispered again. “I should be planning how to manipulate him, use him, ruin him. But instead, I’m dreaming about touching his perfect body. About brushing his hair behind his ear. About whispering his name against his skin.” He swallowed hard. “And he’ll never be mine.”

The sunlight dimmed slightly as the sun began to dip behind the horizon.

“I’m a demon,” he said, like it was a curse. “And he’s Light. He’s good. He’s everything I was born to hate.” He paused. “And yet… I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m near him.”

Lunarys let out a soft growl, pressing herself against him.

Chan leaned into her, tears falling freely now. “I’m so fucking lost, babe.”

He kissed the top of her scaled snout, his voice raw. “You saw him. You felt him. He’s… he’s not just beautiful. He’s kind. Gentle. So full of fire and light.”

She blinked slowly, resting her head fully in his lap.

“I won’t act on it,” Chan whispered. “I can’t. He’d hate me. And if he doesn’t… he should.”

The forest was quieter now. The sun dipped lower. Shadows stretched across the ground. Chan looked down at her, lips trembling.

“I love him.” And then, so softly he wasn’t sure if she heard: “But I’ll never be allowed to have him.”

Lunarys curled tighter, her body shielding him from the growing dark. Chan closed his eyes, letting himself fall into her warmth—because he couldn’t fall into Felix. Not now. Maybe not ever. But gods… he wanted to.

_______________________________

The corridors of the castle were hushed, bathed in silver from the lanterns lit along the high, arched ceilings. It was past midnight, and the world slept, or at least pretended to. Felix, however, could not. His bare feet padded quietly across the stone floor, a warm mug of milk with cocoa cradled in both hands. The kitchen had been empty, save for a sleepy maid who offered him a small smile and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her no. His mind was too full, too chaotic to even form words.

He walked slowly, almost dreamily, up the grand staircase, the warmth of the mug doing little to soothe the cold whirlpool inside his chest. His thoughts were a prison. A storm. And the eye of it, always, was Chan. He was so deep in his own world, he didn’t hear the footsteps coming down until they stopped.

“Well, well,” came that low, familiar voice, laced in sleep and something far more dangerous, “I thought angels didn’t come out at night. Isn’t darkness forbidden in your fairytale kingdom?”

Felix looked up. And there he was. Chan. Messy-haired, wearing loose black pants that hung low on his hips, and a deep burgundy shirt open at the chest, exposing collarbones, golden skin, and the faint trace of muscle.

Their eyes met. And though both faces remained carefully neutral, there was no denying the spark. The way Chan’s smirk twitched slightly wider. The way Felix’s fingers tightened around the mug.

“Maybe I wanted to see what the monsters were doing in the dark,” Felix shot back, chin lifting. "And what are you doing here? Shouldn't demons be crawling back into their coffins around now?"

Chan chuckled, taking another step down, now just a few feet away from him on the wide stairs.

“Careful, little butterfly. You might just tempt them out of hiding.” Chan smirked, eyes roaming lazily over him. “And I’m here because… I couldn’t sleep. Too many… pleasant distractions in my head.”

“Have you tried setting yourself on fire? I hear that helps for your kind.”

He chuckled, low and smoky. “Is that you offering to light the match, pretty thing?”

Felix rolled his eyes, pretending he hadn’t just blushed. “Don’t you have a hell to go be dramatic in?”

“I like this hell better,” Chan murmured, taking one more step down, stopping only a few steps above him. “It has you.”

Felix raised his cup like a shield. “You're ridiculous.”

Chan tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “And you're adorable.”

“I’m not.” His voice wavered, his spine straightening. “And stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you're imagining something indecent.”

“Oh, angel,” Chan purred, resting a hand on the stone banister. “I'm not imagining. I've got a vivid memory from earlier. Those hands on my chest? That gasp you made when I caught you? I’ve replayed it about millions of times.”

Felix rolled his eyes, stepping up again. “Are you always this dramatic or is it a side effect of being morally bankrupt?”

“Oh, definitely the second one.” Chan grinned. “And very flexible morals too. Want me to show you sometime?”

Felix snorted. “Only if it comes with a fire extinguisher. I’d rather not burn in hell for touching you.”

“Touching me would be your heaven, sweetheart.” Chan winked.

Felix nearly choked on his breath, but he covered it well, lips twitching upward. “You wish.”

They stared at each other a beat too long. Felix took a step, then another, trying to walk past him, but the banter had already twisted around them like a net. When he passed by, Chan leaned slightly, lowering his voice.

“So what were you really doing down there? Don’t tell me angels have midnight cravings.”

Felix held up the mug in his hand, still warm. “Warm milk with cocoa. Helps you sleep. Maybe demons should try it instead of feeding off innocent souls.”

“Hot milk and sass.” Chan tilted his head, amused. “You’re a dangerous one, Lixie. What if I told you I don’t sleep?”

Felix's body shivered upon hearing the nickname Chan had called him. “Then I’d say that explains your constant grumpiness and need for attention, sweetheart.”

Chan grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “If you keep being this cute, I might start thinking you’re flirting with me.”

“If I ever flirt with you,” Felix said sweetly, “you’ll know. Your wings will melt off from the shame.”

“Oh, baby,” Chan leaned in just slightly, enough for Felix to feel the warmth of his breath, “it’s not shame that would make me melt. Try those lips.”

Felix’s heart slammed in his chest. He tried to keep his face blank, but heat rushed up his neck, betraying him. He moved to keep walking, but his foot slipped slightly on the polished edge of the step. With a yelp, he pitched sideways. His fingers scrabbled for balance, finding the cold stone banister just in time.

“Careful, little butterfly,” Chan murmured from behind him, close enough to feel, “If you trip and fall into my arms again, I might take it as a sign.”

Felix bit his bottom lip, and Chan’s eyes zeroed in like a predator catching scent.

“Don’t do that,” Chan said hoarsely.

“Do what?”

“That.” He pointed at Felix's mouth. “Unless you want me to bend you over this staircase and make sure you never walk straight again.”

Felix’s breath hitched, heat rushing to his cheeks. “You… you wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I’d dare,” Chan said with a smirk. “I just wouldn’t want to interrupt your little bedtime cocoa ritual.”

He reached out and, without asking, plucked the warm mug from Felix’s hands. He took a slow sip. Felix tried to snatch the mug back, but Chan pulled it just out of reach.

"Tsk. Didn't your angel training teach you to share?"

"Didn't your demon training teach you not to steal?"

He took a slow sip. “Hmm,” he hummed, licking a drop from the corner of his lip. “Sweet. Really sweet.” His gaze slid back to Felix. “Like you.”

Felix opened his mouth, but nothing witty came out.

Chan laughed, rich and low. “Speechless already? I must be getting better.”

Felix yanked the cup back, flustered. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m delightful.”

Chan finally returned the mug, brushing his fingers purposefully against Felix’s. Felix glared at him, but the warmth of Chan's touch lingered too long. He hated how his breath caught.

Chan tilted his head, watching him. "Are you blushing?"

"I'm overheating from how annoying you are."

"Sure, baby. Keep telling yourself that."

Felix bit his lip again, hard, as he turned his head. Chan’s eyes dropped to his mouth.

“Still biting those lips, freckles,” he teased. “You trying to drive me insane?”

“It’s called restraint,” Felix replied tightly, cheeks flushing.

“Looks painful.”

"Would you mind stopping looking at me like I'm a snack?” Felix asked looking at him.

“Oh no, darling,” Chan murmured, stepping closer, voice dipped in honey and heat, “You are not a snack…. You’re a full-course obsession.”

Felix held his ground, lips twitching. “You’re not getting dessert.”

“Shame,” Chan said with a sigh, “I had whipped cream and everything… we could have a good time together....”

Felix almost choked on his drink again.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

“I tolerate it.”

“You’re smiling.”

Felix quickly dropped his grin, clearing his throat. “I’m smiling because I’m imagining punching you.”

“Kinky,” Chan muttered.

Felix turned and kept walking up the stairs. Chan followed without hesitation. They walked in silence for a few steps, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged. Bright. Electric. When they reached the top of the stairs, where the hallways split off to their separate north and south wings, Felix turned to leave.

“Hey,” Chan said softly.

Felix glanced back.

“Sweet dreams, babe,” he said, eyes half-lidded, his smirk slow and dangerous. “Dream of me.”

“I’d rather dream of stabbing you with a flaming sword.”

“Is that your kink?” Chan teased. “Because I can roleplay.”

Felix gave him one last glare, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a faint smirk. He walked away without answering, but his heart beat a little faster.

And behind him, Chan whispered to himself, “He totally will dream of me.”

Chapter Text

Two days. Just two days remained before the first royal competition—an event hosted by the King of the Forest himself. The outcome would not only influence who might gain his favor but could also shift the alliances of kingdoms on the verge of war. The pressure weighed heavy like a crown of thorns.

Felix had been pushing himself harder than ever. Training consumed most of his days—his muscles ached, his wings were stiff, and his bones carried fatigue, but his determination remained unshaken. He had to win. For his people, for his father… for himself.

And then there was Chan. Felix hated how often that name crept into his thoughts like smoke under a locked door. He refused to admit that part of his motivation was proving something to that cocky, insufferably attractive demon prince who haunted his dreams and stole every sliver of focus. He needed distraction.

Wandering the castle halls in search of his angelic companions, Felix's boots echoed against stone floors. Room after room, balcony after corridor—empty. Where were they? He tried the gardens, the sparring fields, the library—nothing.

Finally, he crossed paths with the forest princesses, Rosé and Jennie, dressed in gauzy fabrics and surrounded by woodland spirits.

“Have you seen Hyunjin, Jisung, or Jeongin?” he asked.

Rosé shook her head. “Not since breakfast.”

Jennie tilted her head. “We only know the demons headed toward the southern side of the castle. Near the beach.”

Felix squinted. “The demons?”

Jennie smiled playfully. “They said they were going to ‘play a sport.’  But I don’t know about the angels. Maybe they are playing together finally like friends?”

Felix sighed. Felix doubted that. His mind instantly conjured images of his friends drooling somewhere behind a bush, spying on sexy demons with flushed cheeks and inappropriate thoughts. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past them.

Sure enough, as he descended the ivy-covered staircase that led toward the beach terrace of the castle, he spotted them—Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N.—hunched behind a crumbling stone wall filled with square-shaped holes at eye-level.

He halted on the steps above, quietly, curiosity tugging at him. The three of them were whispering feverishly, their voices low and laced with laughter—naughty laughter. Felix furrowed his brow, tilting his head to hear.

“God,” Hyunjin breathed, “look at Changbin’s thighs. They could crack me open like a walnut.”

Jisung snorted. “You wish. Minho’s got thighs built for sin and arms that could pin me to the mattress for days. I’d let him throw me across the room and call it romance.”

Felix’s eyes widened.

“I’m serious,” I.N chimed in. “Seungmin’s got this silent killer thing going on. You know he’s a freak. I’d let him ruin me and then write him a thank-you note.”

The other two giggled.

“Oh my God,” Jisung whispered between wheezes. “Minho just licked his lips. That tongue? I want to find out what he can do with it.”

Hyunjin sighed dreamily. “I swear if Changbin flexes one more time, I’m gonna—”

“Explode?” I.N offered.

“Spontaneously combust,” Hyunjin confirmed. “He scratched the back of his neck and I felt it in my spine.”

Jisung exhaled slowly. “Imagine Minho calling you a filthy little angel while you’re underneath him…”

“Please,” I.N whined. “You’re going to make me sin on the spot.”

Felix’s jaw dropped. He stared, stunned, at the back of their heads. His cheeks burned. Were they for real?

Jisung giggled. “Felix would die if he heard us.”

Hyunjin laughed. “He’d faint. Then wake up, see Changbin’s abs, and faint again.”

I.N. leaned closer to the hole. “He’s always pretending to hate Chan, but I see the way he looks at him.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Hyunjin said. “He’s one smirk away from climbing that man like a tree.”

Felix inhaled sharply. That’s enough. He cleared his throat loudly. All three of them jumped like startled cats, crashing into one another in a chaotic tumble.

“What the—?!” Hyunjin yelped.

Jisung turned around mid-scramble, eyes wide with guilt. “YOUR HIGHNESS!”

“What,” Felix said coolly, crossing his arms, “are you doing?”

I.N blinked rapidly. “Field research for the competition?”

Hyunjin straightened his robe. “Strategic observation?”

“Of… what?” Felix raised an eyebrow. “The demons’ sweat patterns?”

Jisung pointed toward the holes. “Technically yes.”

Felix stepped closer. “The princesses told me they were just playing games on the beach…. They are not even training right now.”

“Yeah….Games of temptation,” I.N muttered under his breath.

Hyunjin sighed. “Look, we’re not not distracted, but it’s not our fault. They’re just—look.”

Felix rolled his eyes and leaned in. One glance. One. And he was lost. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the waves and the sand, bathing the demon princes in a warm, ethereal glow. The game—some kind of shirtless beach sport involving a ball—was in full swing, the demons moving like wild, laughing gods, muscles flexing under the last kiss of daylight.

And there he was. Chan. Felix’s breath caught. Every nerve in his body lit up like fireflies in the dusk. Chan was glistening. No shirt, his chest bare and perfect, abs sharply defined, slick with sweat. His skin gleamed in the heat, the golden sun dripping over every curve of his body like a lover’s hands. His biceps flexed with every movement, veins prominent, muscles taut and strong. His black pants rode low on his hips, just enough to tease, revealing the edge of that cursed tattoo—the one inked along his ribs, trailing like black fire into mystery.

Felix’s fingers gripped the stone. Holy hell. Chan laughed—throaty, deep—and wiped the sweat from his brow with the hem of his pants, briefly revealing more skin, more strength, more everything. His dark hair was damp, curled slightly at the ends, strands falling into his eyes, and when he smiled, those devastating dimples carved into his cheeks like sin itself had sculpted him.

Felix couldn’t look away. His heart pounded like war drums, mouth suddenly dry, blood rushing south like betrayal. Every single inch of Chan was perfect. It was infuriating.

Why did he have to be that hot? Why did he have to smile like that? Why did he have to be a demon?

“Looks like someone’s enjoying the view,” Hyunjin whispered.

Felix didn’t respond. He was too busy memorizing Chan—how his body moved, how the light kissed his skin, how his chest rose and fell with laughter. Chan ran for the ball again, launching into the air with feline grace, and landed with a grunt, muscles tensing, droplets of sweat sliding down his chest. Felix bit his lower lip, hard. Then—

“Guys…” a deep voice echoed across the beach. It was Changbin. He’d stopped mid-play, squinting. “I didn’t know we were that attractive.”

“What?” Minho asked, following his gaze.

“We’ve got fans.” Changbin pointed toward the spy wall.

“Oh shit,” Jisung hissed.

Seungmin snorted. “Of course we do.”

One by one, every demon turned. And then— Chan looked up. Right into Felix’s hole in the wall. Their eyes met. A silence fell. A knowing silence. Chan’s lips curved into the slowest, most wicked smirk Felix had ever seen. His head tilted, sweat glistening along his jawline, and he licked his lips slowly—on purpose. Felix’s heart exploded. His face went crimson. He stumbled back from the wall, hand flying to his chest like he’d been struck.

“Oh… my stars,” Hyunjin whispered, stunned.

I.N howled with laughter. “We are so busted.”

Jisung clutched Felix’s arm. “Abort mission. We’ve been seen.”

Felix shook his head, dizzy. “He… he smirked at me.”

“He saw your soul,” Hyunjin said reverently. “And your sin.”

Felix groaned. “I’m going to die.”

“You’re going to marry him,” Jisung teased.

“I am going to strangle all of you.”

They dissolved into laughter, but Felix couldn’t laugh. He pressed a hand over his pounding heart and looked up toward the sunset horizon. Because no matter how hard he tried to run from it—no matter how deep the war raged between angel and demon, kingdom and bloodline—he couldn’t escape the truth: He was utterly, hopelessly, dangerously drawn to Bang Chan. And now… Chan knew it.

"Come out, little spies," Chan's voice rang out across the beach, low and teasing, with that devilish smirk tugging at his lips. He had his hands on his hips, chest glistening under the golden light. Sweat ran in slow, sensual rivulets down his toned torso, catching the sun like drops of liquid fire.

"Don't be shy now," he added, eyes glinting with amusement. "You’ve had a good look—time to say hello."

Felix froze.

“Please tell me he’s not talking to us,” I.N whispered.

Hyunjin groaned. “He’s talking to us.”

Felix clenched his jaw. “Damn it.”

“Either we climb over with dignity,” Jisung muttered, already brushing off his robes, “or they drag us out like losers.”

Felix looked at his friends, squared his shoulders, and unfurled his wings. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

One by one, white, shimmering wings extended, catching the fading sunlight. First Hyunjin, then Jisung, then I.N, and finally Felix—all rose gracefully into the air and soared over the wall. They landed on the beach with practiced elegance. Sand kicked up beneath their boots.

Right in front of them stood four half-naked, muscular, glistening demons, each of them smug, sweaty, and way too cocky for anyone’s safety.

“Well, well,” Changbin said, arms crossed, pecs on full display. “Looks like the bees always come back to the honey.”

“More like moths to a flame,” Seungmin added with a smirk.

“Don’t flatter yourselves,” Hyunjin snapped, trying and failing not to stare at Changbin’s chest.

“Oh, I’m not flattering myself,” Changbin said smoothly. “You four were practically drooling.”

“We were observing your weaknesses… ehem… for the competition…,” Jisung said.

Minho raised an eyebrow. “You mean my knees?”

I.N stepped forward. “You demons think you’re so irresistible.”

Seungmin grinned. “Only because we are.”

“Oh please,” Felix muttered, arms crossed.

Chan finally spoke, his eyes pinned to Felix. “You looked like you were enjoying the show, sunshine.”

“I was disgusted,” Felix snapped.

“Your mouth said disgust,” Chan purred. “But your eyes screamed touch me.”

Felix’s face turned scarlet. “You—”

“Careful,” Minho said, “your wings are flaring. Something got you excited?”

“Maybe it’s the way you’re panting, little princess,” Chan added. “Or are you just out of breath from flying?”

“I could be out of breath,” Felix retorted, “if I had to carry your massive ego.”

Changbin chuckled. “You sure it’s just Chan’s ego that’s massive? He has also a big—”

Hyunjin groaned. “Unholy.”

“Changbin please, you just broke their innocence in two seconds… they don’t know what is sex…” Minho laughed.

Jisung narrowed his eyes. “You saying something, demon?”

“I’m saying I could make you sing in five languages, angel,” Minho said with a slow smile.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t scream in tongues already,” Jisung replied.

“Damn,” Seungmin said, looking at I.N. “You that loud too?”

“Only when I’m with someone who knows what they’re doing,” I.N replied smoothly.

“Oh, I know,” Seungmin muttered.

“Stop it!” Felix barked, voice slightly too high. “This isn’t some salacious play!”

Chan raised an eyebrow. “Could be. Depends on how flexible you are.”

Felix nearly choked. “Excuse me?!”

Chan leaned forward, voice velvet smooth. “I said, depends on how much you’re willing to be bent.”

Felix’s jaw dropped. Hyunjin shrieked behind him. “Oh my gods!”

“C’mon butterfly… You licked your lips… Admit that you were dying to touch my body,” Chan said.

“I had sand in my mouth, asshole!”

“You looked like you wanted me in your mouth.”

Felix choked. “What—?!”

Jisung slapped a hand over his face. “Okay, wow.”

“Look at your little wings,” Chan whispered, stepping closer to Felix. “All ruffled.”

“Back off,” Felix hissed.

Chan leaned in, voice low. “Or what? You’ll moan?”

Felix shoved him. “You’re impossible.”

Seungmin let out a bark of laughter.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” I.N accused.

“Can you blame me?” Seungmin said. “Your cheeks are redder than hellfire.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Gladly.”

“Oh, they’re gonna kiss,” Jisung stage-whispered.

“He wishes he could,” I.N snapped.

“Felix,” Chan said softly, suddenly just inches from him, voice like honey and sin. “You can pretend all you want. But I saw your face. I felt your stare.”

Felix swallowed.

“You can lie to everyone else,” Chan continued, “but not to me.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Felix whispered.

“You wanted to touch,” Chan said.

Felix’s hands clenched. “You’re… not worth touching.”

Chan smiled, slow and devastating. “Then why do you look like you're about to fall apart every time I breathe?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. “Because you breathe like a pervert.”

“Then let me show you how a pervert breathes when he’s on top.”

Felix gasped. “You—! Shut up!”

“I’ll shut up,” Chan said, licking his lips, “when you beg.”

Felix turned, wings fluttering with frustration. “We’re leaving.”

“Oh no,” Minho drawled, “you’re staying. You haven’t even complimented our abs yet.”

“We’re not here for your egos,” Hyunjin muttered.

Chan raised his brow. "Actually, I was thinking—“ Felix narrowed his eyes. That tone always meant trouble. "—maybe we should train together. One last time. You and me. Before the big day."

“No. Never. Forget it. Absolutely not. No. NO.”

"Why not, sunshine?”

"I already trained with you once. That was more than enough to know how you fight… I already know how you move."

Chan’s grin was wicked. "Oh? You’ve been paying attention to how I move, huh?"

Felix flushed. "I meant in combat."

"Sure you did.”

Hyunjin stepped beside Felix and whispered, "You should take the chance. You might learn his weak points."

"He’s cocky, but he’s not stupid," I.N. murmured. "Could be useful."

Felix shook his head, torn.

"Oh, come on, Felix," Changbin grinned. "Don’t tell me you’re backing out now. What kind of future prince does that?"

"We thought you were brave," Minho teased.

"Unless you're chicken," Seungmin added, flapping invisible wings.

"I'm not—!"

"Then prove it," Chan said, stepping close enough that Felix had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes.

"It’s just training," Seungmin added. "Or are you worried he’ll pin you too fast?"

"That’s not—"

"Unless," Chan interrupted, tilting his head, "you want me to take it slow this time. Real slow."

Felix looked like he was about to combust.

Jisung tugged at Felix’s sleeve. "You don’t have to do this. Seriously. I just... I know it’s not a good idea."

He didn’t say why, but the memory of that afternoon after Felix trained with Chan—the tears, the shaking voice, the confession of impossible feelings—hung heavy in the air. Felix looked between all of them. The pressure was overwhelming, a swarm of voices and eyes urging him forward. His pride spoke before his logic could stop him.

"Fine. One last time."

Chan's smirk grew wicked. "Tomorrow. You and me. No wings. No distractions. Just bodies."

Felix’s heart jumped at the implication. "Don’t get too excited."

"Too late, firefly with freckles”

Felix turned with a huff and walked away, trying desperately not to show how his knees were actually shaking. Behind him, Chan watched him go, tongue wetting his lips as a slow chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"This is going to be fun."

______________________________

The next morning, Felix arrived early at the open space by the lake—their unofficial training spot. The water glimmered under the gentle morning sun, calm and inviting. Trees framed the area, and the faint mist rising from the surface of the lake gave everything a dreamy, surreal glow. To his surprise, Chan was already there.

"Well, this is surprising," Felix called out as he approached, wings tucked behind him. "I didn’t know demons enjoyed early mornings."

Chan turned, already shirtless, of course, with a lazy smirk that curled his lips. "If you spent one night with me," he said, eyes twinkling mischievously, "you’d understand the kind of energy I have after dark."

Felix rolled his eyes so hard he nearly gave himself a headache. "It’s too early for your terrible jokes."

"Who said it’s a joke?" Chan replied smoothly, stepping closer and winking. "You’re always welcome to test that theory."

Felix sighed again, louder this time. Before he could reply with something cutting, a gust of wind swept over the lake. Then, with the grace of a falling star, Lunarys landed beside them.

The dragon's shimmering silver scales caught the morning light, looking almost ethereal. Her wings folded elegantly as she approached Felix with a playful huff. Felix’s face lit up instantly. No matter how many times he saw her, Lunarys always took his breath away. Majestic and powerful, yet so affectionate—especially with him.

"Lunarys!" he beamed, arms opening wide.

The dragon let out a soft trill and bounded toward him, pressing her snout into his chest as Felix wrapped his arms around her thick, cool neck.

"And how is the most beautiful queen in all the kingdoms today? Hmm? Did you miss me?"

Chan watched, his expression unreadable. But inside, he melted. Lunarys was like his daughter—his precious companion—and she adored Felix. It was unfair, really. To be completely in love with someone he couldn’t have, and then to watch that someone bond with the creature he held closest to his heart.

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling warm. "Alright, alright. Enough cuddle time. We’re here to train, remember?"

Felix reluctantly pulled away, petting Lunarys’ head as she laid down nearby, her glittering eyes watching them both.

Chan crossed his arms. "Strip. Down to your underwear."

Felix stared. “Ex…Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

His cheeks flushed crimson. “Not even in your dreams."

Chan grinned. "You have no idea how often you’re in my dreams, little angel. But no, seriously. Today’s training is brutal. We’re starting with a swim—several kilometers. Gotta wake those muscles up."

Felix’s body relaxed slightly, but his blush didn’t fade. "Still... turn around or something. Don’t watch."

"Butterfly," Chan said, tone low and teasing, "even if I turned around, I’d still see you. You live in my head rent-free."

"You are... insufferable."

"Only for you."

They both began to undress. Felix turned away, slipping out of his training clothes slowly, doing his best to shield himself from Chan’s view. But he could feel the weight of those dark eyes burning into him. When he finally turned, standing in nothing but his fitted white briefs, Chan’s gaze dropped. There was silence.

Felix shifted uncomfortably, covering his torso with his arms. "Stop staring."

"Don’t cover yourself," Chan said, voice almost reverent. "You are... breathtaking."

Felix blinked, unsure if the heat on his skin came from embarrassment or something else. Something dangerous. And he couldn’t stop looking either. Chan’s body was sculpted like a god. Thick thighs flexed slightly as he adjusted his stance.  His chest rose and fell with every slow breath, abs glistening with moisture from the misty morning. And then Felix’s eyes dropped lower. He froze. Gods. The big bulge in Chan’s black briefs left little to the imagination. Felix bit his lip.

"Like what you see, sunshine?" Chan teased.

"You wish."

"I know."

Without further delay, Chan turned and dove into the lake, water splashing around his strong frame. Felix, after composing himself with a long inhale, followed, the cold water shocking his nerves awake.

"Alright," Chan said once Felix surfaced beside him, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. "We swim. Back and forth. Twenty laps across the lake."

Felix nodded. "Let’s do this."

Chan smirked again. "Try to keep up, pretty boy.”

_________________________________

Felix’s arms shook as he clawed his way out of the freezing lake, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. His breaths came in short, desperate gasps, and water dripped from his soaked hair as he collapsed onto the grass on all fours. Behind him, Chan stepped out of the water like some mythic creature emerging from the depths. His wet briefs clung to him obscenely, water cascading down every sculpted muscle. But all of that, Chan barely registered—because the view in front of him was even better.

Felix, soaked to the bone, back arched, legs trembling, ass perfectly raised as he tried to breathe. Chan blinked. Then blinked again.

“Well, well…” he murmured, voice husky and low, “If you wanted me on my knees behind you, firefly, all you had to do was ask.”

Felix didn’t even have the strength to glare. “Not now…” he wheezed. “Save your dirty jokes for when I can actually move and breathe.”

Chan whistled softly, kneeling down beside him. “I don’t think you realize what you look like right now. If I were any less of a gentleman, we wouldn’t be training anymore.”

Felix flopped onto his side, groaning. “You’re not a gentleman.”

“That’s true,” Chan said, leaning in with a grin. “But I do try to behave around virginal little angels. Even if they insist on tempting me like this.”

Felix glared up at him from the grass, chest still heaving. “You think I’m tempting you?”

Chan’s eyes dropped again—slow, deliberate. “You have no idea the kind of restraint I’m using right now.”

“I think I do,” Felix muttered under his breath, gaze flicking toward the outline of Chan’s desire straining against his briefs.

Chan chuckled, rich and unbothered. “So you have been looking.”

Felix turned away quickly, ears burning. “Shut up.” Felix groaned, still lying half-dead in the grass. “Please tell me we’re done.”

Chan sat beside him with a smug smile. “That swim got the blood pumping. But we’re not done.…  Now… Twenty-five kilometers running. Then sparring.” Chan stood and stretched, every inch of him glistening in the sun. “And after that, if you’re still conscious, maybe ten or eleven rounds of hard sex… you and me…”

Felix laughed—loud and honest. “You wouldn’t last eleven rounds even if you sold your soul to the gods.”

“Who says I haven’t?” Chan winked. “Besides, with you moaning under me? I’d find the stamina.”

“Oh my god…You’re impossible,” Felix muttered, though he was still smiling.

“And you’re adorable when you pretend you don’t enjoy this.”

Felix pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly. “Let’s just run, little devil.”

“I love this nickname, honey…” Chan smiled.

The trail they took wound through the forest, muddy and uneven. Chan made it deliberately harder, pushing Felix to jump over logs, climb short cliffs, and keep pace with him as he sprinted ahead like a shadow. Felix cursed him under his breath several times, but the adrenaline buzzed through his body. As exhausting as it was, he couldn’t deny it—he liked the challenge. He liked how Chan pushed him. He liked the way their rivalry never stayed serious for long, always tipping into something flirtatious and wild. When they finally slowed to a stop, soaked with sweat and dirt, Chan turned and gave Felix a once-over.

“You look good all sweaty,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Disheveled suits you.”

Felix pulled a twig out of his hair. “You have a weird definition of compliments.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not into it,” Chan replied, stepping closer. “You love it when I talk dirty.”

“I love silence even more,” Felix muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

Chan raised a brow. “Then you must hate how much you think about me.”

Before Felix could fire back, Chan shoved him lightly on the shoulder. “Sparring. Let’s go.”

They returned to the clearing for combat practice, muscles aching, bodies soaked in sweat and lake water. Chan tossed Felix a towel, but it barely helped. The sun beat down harder now, drying their skin in glistening streaks and highlighting every muscle, every drop that slid from collarbone to abdomen.

“Wings off,” Chan said, reminding him.

Felix nodded. They’d agreed the day before—no flight advantages. No gliding away. No sudden takeoffs. Just raw strength. Grit. Contact. They stood shirtless, barefoot in the grass. Weapons tossed aside. This was about bodies now.

Chan circled him slowly, like a wolf sizing up prey. Felix mirrored the motion, legs bent, fists loose but ready. The moment cracked, and they clashed. Sweat flew. Skin hit skin. Elbows locked. Chan struck low, Felix dodged high. A kick spun out—narrowly avoided. Another landed, hard, in Chan’s ribs. He laughed as he absorbed it, feral and thrilled.

They exchanged blows, each one sharper, quicker, more aggressive. Felix was faster than Chan expected. He moved like lightning. At one point, he managed to get Chan down, pinning his forearm against his neck.

Chan looked up at him, panting slightly. “If you wanted me beneath you, you could’ve just asked.”

Felix groaned in frustration. “Can you go five seconds without making it sexual?”

“Nope,” Chan said, smirking. Then he flipped him. “With you is impossible…”

Felix yelped as the world spun. Before he could recover, Chan was on top of him, straddling his waist, pressing him into the grass.

One of Chan’s hands grabbed both of Felix’s wrists and pinned them above his head easily. With the other, he slowly ran his fingers along Felix’s side, brushing just under his ribs, gentle but intimate.

“You know,” Chan said, voice velvet-smooth, “you fit perfectly under me… and your skin is so….perfect.”

Felix swallowed hard. “Let me up.”

Chan leaned down until their faces were barely apart, his breath brushing against Felix’s lips. “Let me enjoy this moment a little longer…”

Felix squirmed, and Chan adjusted his hips, just slightly, the friction making both of them freeze for a heartbeat.

“Chan…” Felix whispered.

“God,” Chan murmured. “I like it when you say my name like that.”

His fingers continued to ghost along Felix’s ribs, the touch feather-light, maddening. Felix’s heart hammered against his chest. Chan was so close. His eyes, dark and burning, held him in place more firmly than any pin. His breath was warm. His body radiated heat.

Felix licked his lips. Felt his lips part on their own. His throat was dry.  And then— Chan moved even closer. Their noses brushed. His lips hovered—barely, barely—against Felix’s.

Felix couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. The world narrowed to the space between them. He could feel Chan’s breath on his lips. His heart was trying to escape his chest.

Then, ever so softly, Chan whispered, “You feel that?”

Felix’s breath caught.

“That’s not just lust, little angel,” Chan whispered. “That’s the universe asking us to cross a line.”

Felix’s eyes fluttered shut. And then—nothing. Chan pulled back, eyes gleaming with mischief and something deeper. Felix blinked up at him in pure confusion… and a little disappointment.

Chan grinned. “You want it. You just don’t know how to say it yet.”

Felix stared at him, stunned.

“I’m not taking your first kiss,” Chan said gently. “You’re going to give it to me. When you’re ready. When you want it… You're going to ask me to kiss you or shut you up with a kiss… I'm not going to touch those beautiful virginal lips until you give me the signal, butterfly.”

Felix, trying to regain his breath, scowled. “That’s never going to happen.”

Chan got off him, offering his hand once more. “We’ll see, Lixie. We’ll see.”

Felix took it, and Chan hauled him up like he weighed nothing.

“You’re insufferable,” Felix muttered again.

“And you’re irresistible,” Chan replied smoothly. “I think we make a perfect pair.”

Felix opened his mouth to argue—and then closed it again. Because for just a second, he wondered how it would feel to say yes. To stop pretending. To kiss him. And the fact that he wondered at all? That scared him more than any battle could.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun bathed the castle in molten gold as Chan made his way back through the northern wing. His body ached in that good way—the way that told him he’d trained hard—but the real reason he felt breathless had nothing to do with kilometers run, swim or training. It had to do with Felix.

That image was seared into his mind. Felix pinned beneath him, lips parted, flushed and panting, golden skin glowing with sweat and sunlight. The way those lips had almost—almost—touched his. And Chan hadn’t kissed him. Gods, give him a damn medal. Because it took every ounce of willpower he had not to give in. Every part of his body had screamed Do it. But he hadn’t. And now he was pacing the stone corridors like a stormcloud in human form, buzzing with unsaid words and unfelt touches.

He needed to talk to someone. Fast. The closest door was Changbin’s. Thank hells. If anyone could handle Chan's inner chaos, it was his sharp-tongued, sharp-minded best friend. He didn’t even knock—just went straight for the handle. Locked. Chan blinked. Huh. Changbin usually didn’t lock his—

A muffled sound filtered through the door. A gasp. Then a moan. A moan? Chan froze. His brain scrambled for answers. Was Changbin…? Was Changbin hooking up with someone? Here? Now? Another sound followed, this one unmistakably desperate. Rhythmic. Wet. Chan's eyes widened as heat crept up his neck. No. No way. He backed up a step, lips parted in disbelief.

“Changbin… you sly bastard…” he muttered under his breath, a slow grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Did you grab one of the angels?”

He nearly knocked again out of habit, but thought better of it.

Let the man enjoy himself, Chan reasoned. He’s earned it.

So he leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed, pretending to enjoy the view outside the window, doing his best to ignore the occasional moan or pant that filtered through the door.

Eventually—finally—the door clicked open. Chan glanced up——and nearly choked on air. Hyunjin stepped out, cheeks flushed, hair tousled, robes misaligned. They locked eyes. Hyunjin froze.

“Oh,” he breathed. “Oh gods.”

Chan just stared. Hyunjin scrambled to smooth his robes, his face going from red to crimson.

“Prince Bang Chan! I—I didn’t know anyone was out here—”

Before Chan could speak, Changbin appeared in the doorway behind him, shirtless, grinning like a wolf full on a feast.

“Hey, hey. Look who caught us. You could’ve joined, you know,” he teased.

Chan blinked. “So it was you in there? With him?”

Changbin slung an arm around Hyunjin’s waist, pulling him back against his bare chest. “Sure was. And let me tell you—this angel?” He groaned dramatically. “Fierce. I think I saw celestial gods.”

“Changbin!” Hyunjin hissed, pushing at him, scandalized.

Chan raised both brows. “So this is… real? You two…?”

Hyunjin’s ears turned pink. “It was supposed to be discreet—”

“Oh, it wasn’t, believe me,” Chan said dryly. “I was standing outside listening to the soundtrack of the century.”

Hyunjin groaned in embarrassment.

Chan tilted his head. “Does Felix know?”

“No!” Hyunjin blurted instantly. “And please, let’s keep it that way.”

“Are you ashamed of me?" Changbin asked, feigning offense.

"Ohh... noo... my dwaekki from hell," Hyunjin responded affectionately. "But the prince of Heaven isn't too keen on us angels being friends with the Underworld... you know... because we've had to hate each other since ancient times."

Changbin was unbothered. He reached around Hyunjin’s waist and gave his hip a squeeze. “What can I say? I’m addicted to the sweet taste of heaven.”

“Stop—” Hyunjin tried to squirm out of his grip, but he was smiling now, lips bitten.

“Never had sex like that before,” Hyunjin mumbled, glancing sideways at Chan. “Seriously. That demon’s... impossible.”

Changbin grinned, looking at both of them. “Oh, we’re definitely repeating. This angel isn’t a one-time blessing.”

Before Chan could process that mental image, Hyunjin twisted in Changbin’s arms and kissed him, full and quick, right on the mouth.

“Okay!” Chan said loudly, stepping between them. “That’s enough holy-demonic PDA. I came here to vent, not to witness a romance novel in real time.”

Hyunjin laughed softly and backed away. “What a temper, your highness.”

“Out of the North Wing,” Chan ordered, pointing. “Go on. Shoo. I need my friend.”

Hyunjin winked at Changbin, eyes full of heat. “I’ll see you tonight?”

Changbin nodded with a smirk. “You’d better wear less.”

Hyunjin practically floated down the hallway, disappearing around the corner. Chan closed the door behind him and sighed, rubbing his face.

Changbin crossed his arms, amused. “Alright. Spill it.”

Chan glanced at him, then flopped down on the bed.

“I almost kissed Felix.”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “Almost?”

Chan shook his head, jaw tight. “I couldn’t.”

Changbin stepped closer, brow furrowing. “Why didn’t you?”

Chan hesitated, voice low. “Because it didn’t feel right. Not yet… but yeah.” Chan exhaled hard. “Pinned him under me. Sweaty. Breathless. Lips right there. And I didn’t.”

Changbin tilted his head, studying him. “Wow…You really care about him.”

Chan didn’t answer. But that was answer enough. He stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched. “I wanted to kiss him, yes... but… I don’t know… I don't want him to regret it. I want him to kiss me back, to be ready.”

Changbin nodded, quieter now. “Eeehmm…That’s… respectable.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “You’re judging me.”

“No, man. I’m impressed. I couldn’t keep my hands off Hyunjin, and you’re turning down half-naked prince of Heaven looking at you like he wanted to be devoured? I mean—damn…. You deserve a fucking trophy.”

“I know.”

Chan’s voice was softer now. “It’s not just that I didn’t want it to be rushed. It’s that…Felix has never kissed anyone.”

That made Changbin blink. “Never?”

“Not once.”

“Shit… Too tempting... an untouched little angel”

Chan nodded slowly. “I mean yeah… But I didn’t want to take that from him. Not like that. Not because I lost control for one second. If it happens… I want it to be his choice. His first kiss should be something he remembers. Something he wants.”

Changbin gave a low hum and sat beside him on the bed. “That’s... more romantic than I expected from you… prince of Underworld… remember that you are a demon…”

Chan huffed. “Don’t start.…”

“I’m serious. That’s... big.” Changbin exhaled slowly. “Chan… you’re not like the rest of us.”

Chan frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Changbin leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Most demons? Cold. Calculated. Evil. We don’t feel the way you do. Our hearts are forged in fire and stone. Yours? Yours is different. Always has been… We are the only ones who know this about you… Not even your parents know what a big and sweet heart you have... You know that no matter how much you try to deny it, your heart is not from the Underworld.”

Chan stayed quiet.

“You were born with too much heart,” Changbin said, almost gently. “It’s fragile. Tender. It holds on when it shouldn’t, and loves too hard when it does. And with Felix?” He looked at him seriously now. “You’re in dangerous territory.”

Chan swallowed. “I know.”

“If you fall in love with him… really fall?” Changbin’s voice lowered. “You’re fucked.”

Chan let out a dry laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m not joking, Chan. He’s not just a pretty angel with a good character. He’s the kind of person that is going to ruin you… mostly because he's an angel, the future kind of Heaven, and you're a damn demon, the future king of Underworld….  And you? You’re already halfway undone, just from one almost-kiss.”

Chan sat there in silence.

Changbin let out a slow, heavy breath, and this time, when he spoke, his voice was different—sharper. “Look, I need you to hear me now, and not with your heart, with your fucking brain.”

Chan turned toward him.

“I like Felix… Even if he is a butterfly with feathers. He’s strong, and he’s a fucking incredible attitude, and yeah, he’s hot as fuck. I get it. But what you’re playing with? That’s not a game, your highness.”

“I know that.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” Changbin snapped, his tone harder now. “This thing between angels and demons? It’s never been about love. It’s hate. It’s war. We weren’t made for love, Chan. Especially not with them.”

Chan looked away, jaw clenched.

“One night… or two… of letting off steam? Fine. That’s all it was with me and Hyunjin. Just lust. Just a break from the madness. But you? You’re not built like that. Your heart doesn’t work that way. You could never take Felix to your bed and pretend it meant nothing after one night.”

Silence stretched.

“Because if that happens…” Changbin lowered his voice, dead serious now. “If that ever happens, that you let Felix into your bed… it’ll mean one thing. That you’re already fucking lost. That you’ve fallen for him so hard you can’t tell where he ends and you begin.”

Chan swallowed hard.

“That means your story is doomed before it even begins. It means that if you fall in love with him—truly, completely—you're not just breaking your own heart. You're starting a war. One that won’t end until both of you are destroyed… both of you dead.”

The silence that followed was thick.

Chan’s voice came out like gravel. “I didn’t choose this.”

Changbin softened, just a little. “No one chooses who they fall for. But we can choose what we do about it. So be smart. If you're not already in too deep… walk away.”

Chan looked at the floor, his chest rising and falling slowly. “It’s too late.”

Changbin sighed and leaned back against the table, eyes filled with something like pity. “Then gods of Hell help us all.”

____________________________________

That night, Chan lay in bed, restless. His body ached from training, but his mind wouldn’t shut down. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Felix—sweaty, breathless, with those lips slightly parted, looking up at him like he was the only thing in the world. He rolled onto his side and cursed under his breath.

Why didn’t I kiss him?

Because he couldn’t. Not like that. Not when it meant everything. Sleep finally claimed him, but it wasn’t peaceful. At first, the dream was soft—Felix's laughter echoing like sunlight, warm fingers brushing his hand, a whisper of breath against his cheek. Then everything shifted.

The light bled into darkness. Felix’s smile faded. The ground trembled. Trees twisted in unnatural shapes, and a suffocating humidity wrapped around him like a shroud. His limbs grew heavy, too heavy. The dream turned strange, warped—until the air itself seemed to buzz with wrongness.

Suddenly— Chan’s eyes snapped open.

He was lying on damp soil, surrounded by towering trees so thick and ancient the sky barely peeked through. Moss climbed up every surface. The air was dense and sticky, the kind of humid that clung to your lungs.

He sat up slowly, disoriented. “What the fucking hell…”

He wasn’t in his bed. Or anywhere near the castle. A soft groan came from his left. He turned quickly—just in time to see Felix pushing himself up from the ground, looking around, utterly confused.

The angel blinked at the surroundings, then at Chan. “What… what is going on?”

Chan just stared at him.

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Did you… did you kidnap me in the middle of the night and drag me to the middle of this creepy-ass forest to kill me where no one would find the body?”

Chan burst out laughing, the sound echoing oddly in the heavy stillness. “Please. If I kidnapped you, it’d be to take you to my bed and show you the kind of pleasure your pretty little kingdom never taught you.”

Felix froze. A visible shiver ran through his spine.

Chan raised an eyebrow, amused. “Touched a nerve, angel?”

“Shut up, demon,” Felix muttered, standing and brushing off his pants. “Seriously—what is this?”

“No idea,” Chan said, lifting his arms in a shrug. “Last thing I remember, I was sleeping.”

“Same here.” Felix answered.

Something caught his eye. Off to the right, just under a patch of ferns, a green survival backpack sat waiting. Chan walked over and unzipped it. Inside was a collapsible tent, basic cooking gear, a water filter, and a few miscellaneous tools.

There was also a folded note—made of thick parchment, stamped with the official crest of the Forest Kingdom. Chan unfolded the note with a sharp flick of his wrist, the paper slightly damp from forest humidity. He cleared his throat dramatically before reading aloud, as if he were announcing a royal decree:

"To both contestants:

Welcome to the first phase of your trial. You have been transported to the deepest quadrant of the Forest of Shifting Echoes. Here, time bends, magic weaves illusions, and danger sleeps beneath every stone.

You must survive. You have three days to return to the castle. Wings are forbidden. Use them and you forfeit the trial—if not your life. A single survival pack has been provided. Inside: one tent, one cooking kit, minimal rations, and basic tools. You may share it. You may divide it. You may betray, fight, or kill for it. The winner will be the one who reaches the castle first—alive. Only one may claim victory. Prove your kingdom's strength."

Chan lowered the note slowly. His brow furrowed. Chan’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Sounds like a party. I usually prefer dinner before death threats, but hey—different customs in different kingdoms.”

"Kill each other? Seriously?" Felix asked, arms crossed as he scanned the dense forest around them. "What kind of barbaric game is this?"

Chan tilted his head, a crooked smile forming on his lips. "Well, if I’d planned to kill you, I’d at least take you out to dinner first. Maybe seduce you under the moonlight, not in a swamp."

Felix rolled his eyes, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You seduce like a knife fight, you know that? All sharp grins and zero warnings."

"But effective," Chan shot back, leaning slightly closer. "You haven’t run away yet."

Felix exhaled, glancing sideways at him. "I’m not sure if that’s because I trust you or because I want to be there when you trip over your own ego."

They fell into a tense silence. The note had laid down the stakes in brutal clarity. Chan kicked at the earth with the toe of his boot, and Felix folded the letter, stuffing it into the survival pack.

"So... what do we do now?" Felix asked, eyes fixed on the distant treeline.

Chan met his gaze. "We’re enemies. I know that much."

Felix snorted. "I trained for battle, not Boy Scout badge earning.”

"I bet you look good in a sash, though," Chan teased, flashing a grin and touching his arm.

Felix shivered and shot him a warning look. "Try to touch me again and I’ll tie you to a tree."

Chan took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Don’t threaten me with a good time, featherboy.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed, but he held his ground. "You’re impossible.”

"But useful," Chan countered, finally serious. "Look, we both want to survive this. Neither of us wants to kill the other.. yet. So unless you want to gamble on wandering this cursed forest alone, we need to work together.”

“I prefer to go alone…by myself.” Felix lied trying to act tough.

“Are you sure, butterfly? The forest is haunted... There might be bugs, creepy creatures... even ghosts.”

“Gh…gho….ghosts?….” Felix hesitated. "Fine. Partners."

Chan extended a hand while smiling. Felix took it. They gripped firmly, and neither pulled away.

Chan didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in a bit, smirking. "This feels a bit like a marriage ceremony. Should we seal it with a kiss? Should I kiss the bride?” Chan asked, voice husky.

Felix leaned forward, just enough to bring their noses almost touching. His voice was quiet and electric. "Save it for the finish line."

Chan smirked excited. “Oh YES GOD! I plan to collect."

They started walking. The forest was thick, tangled, and eerily silent. Every few minutes, a strange sound would echo—branches snapping, wind whispering like a voice. They took turns carrying the backpack. Chan offered to start, hoisting it onto his shoulders as they began their slow trek through the shifting terrain. After what felt like five kilometers, he handed it to Felix.

"Your turn."

Felix grunted under the weight. "You sure you’re not just trying to watch my ass from behind for the next five kilometers?"

"I mean, if that’s a side benefit, I won’t complain."

But secretly, when Felix wasn’t looking, Chan would let the five-kilometer marker stretch to seven, even ten. He could bear the weight longer. He didn’t mind. He just didn’t want to see Felix wear out.

They moved steadily for hours—or what felt like it. Time was impossible to track. The forest twisted around them, shifting in small ways. A path that looked straight one moment would suddenly curve. The sun remained in the same place.

Felix sighed. "How long have we been walking?"

"Eight hours, maybe nine," Chan guessed.

"Feels like twelve."

They reached a clearing, the trees parting to reveal a shallow pool and fallen logs perfect for resting. Felix sat down, wiping sweat from his brow.

"We should eat something," he said. "Even if it’s just a snack."

Chan agreed and dug into the pack. They shared a small portion of rations—dried fruits, hard bread, something resembling jerky.

“This looks... delicious,” Felix muttered, raising a skeptical eyebrow as Chan handed him a portion.

“Hey, at least it’s protein,” Chan replied, holding up the jerky between two fingers like a questionable science experiment. “Or demon leather. Could go either way.”

They sat on opposite ends of a flat stone, the forest around them oddly still, muffled like it was holding its breath. Chan leaned back on his palms, watching Felix cautiously take a bite.

“I’d rather eat bark,” Felix mumbled around a mouthful, grimacing.

Chan chuckled. “Want me to feed you? I can chew it up first like a mama bird.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Try it and I’ll shove that jerky somewhere it really doesn’t belong.”

“Promises, promises,” Chan teased, popping a piece into his mouth and chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. “Mmm. Tastes like regret and pine needles.”

Felix huffed out a reluctant laugh. “I don’t know how you make everything sound like a dirty innuendo, but it’s impressive.”

“I’ve had years to practice,” Chan said, winking. “You’d be amazed what a little boredom and a filthy imagination can do.”

They chewed in silence for a while, the taste of dried fruit and regret settling on their tongues. After a long moment, Felix spoke softly.

“Can I ask you something?”

Chan nodded, gnawing on a piece of hard bread.

“Why do we hate each other?” Felix asked, eyes still fixed on the forest ahead.

Chan blinked, turning his head. “What?”

“I mean… not us, personally… well yes, also us… but I mean our worlds. The Underworld and the Sky Realm. Why do we hate each other so much?”

Chan was quiet for a beat. Then he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Dunno. Guess I never questioned it before.”

Felix glanced down at the bread in his hands, his voice dropping.

“In school, they taught us demons were monsters. Heartless, cruel. Less than animals. That you fed on suffering, tricked people into giving up their souls. That demons couldn’t feel love. Or remorse. Or anything real.”

Chan looked at him, brow furrowing.

Felix continued, “My parents said the same. Everyone in the kingdom does. The idea of even talking to a demon—let alone trusting one—is… disgusting to them.”

Chan’s voice came out quiet, but razor sharp. “Funny. They say the same about angels in my realm. That you’re manipulators. That you lie with holy smiles and stab with golden blades. That if a demon gets too close to an angel, he’ll lose more than just his heart and head.”

Felix finally met his gaze. “What do you mean?”

Chan’s jaw tightened. “In my kingdom, speaking about angels is taboo. Loving one is punishable by exile… or even worse…” He let out a nervous laugh. “…a public execution.”

Felix flinched, the color draining from his face.

Chan shrugged one shoulder. “They say an angel’s touch is poisonous to our kind. Not literally. Just... symbolically. Like being marked.”

Felix nodded slowly. “It’s the same in the Sky Realm. They don’t even talk about demons like you’re real people. More like... warnings. Boogeymen for the bedtime stories.”

A heavy silence settled between them.

Then Felix whispered, “Do you know where all that hatred comes from?”

Chan shook his head. “No idea. Been going on for centuries. Long before us.”

Felix looked down at his hands. “That’s the part that gets me. No one even remembers why. We’re all just… born into it. Taught to hate without reason.”

Chan stared at him for a long time, something soft and dangerous blooming in his chest. They sat there, the truth between them like a blade pressed against their skin.

Felix tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He forced a smile.

“Well,” he said with a shaky breath, “good thing we hate each other.”

Chan snorted. “Yeah. Thank the stars for that.”

Felix’s lips twitched. “Wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

“Absolutely not,” Chan murmured, his voice low, almost teasing. “Imagine if they thought we liked each other. Scandal…arghh… disgusting…. You and me??… Never!!”

Felix turned his head sadly and slowly, meeting his eyes. They stared. No blinking. No smirking. Just... heat. A quiet ache building under the surface.

Chan leaned slightly closer, gaze dipping to Felix’s mouth. “Lucky for us, you find me insufferable.”

Felix’s smile returned, slower this time. “Yes… you’re the most irritating demon I’ve ever met.”

Chan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Hate you so much, butterfly with freckles”

Felix didn’t move. “Hate you more, little devil.”

Their breaths mingled. Their knees touched. Chan’s fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for him. Felix looked like he might let him. But neither did anything. Because they weren’t allowed. Because they weren’t supposed to. Because to do more would mean falling off the edge of everything they’d been taught to fear. Still, neither looked away. And that was worse.

Chan’s voice was rough. “By the way… you’re not what they said you’d be.”

Felix’s eyes darkened. “Neither are you.”

They didn’t kiss. But they were close. So close. And in some cruel way, that was almost more intimate than a kiss. Because they knew they couldn’t. Because if they did—they wouldn’t stop.

Felix stood quickly, brushing his hands on his pants. “We should—uh—keep going.”

“Yeah,” Chan said, voice slightly strained. “Definitely.”

They kept walking. The forest grew darker, thicker. The trees towered, ancient and twisted, their roots curling like the fingers of some slumbering god. Strange sounds echoed—clicks, murmurs, phantom laughter that vanished when they turned their heads. More than once, Felix walked close enough that their shoulders brushed. More than once, Chan let it happen.

“Still think we should’ve gone separate ways?” Chan asked eventually.

Felix shot him a sidelong glance. “No. But don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there.”

Felix smiled. “Of course it is.”

The sun—or what passed for it in that strange canopy of shifting leaves—had begun to dip. The shadows stretched long and slow. The air turned cooler, carrying with it the scent of moss and some distant fire they couldn’t place.

Felix stopped walking. “We should set up the tent soon.”

Chan nodded. “Agreed. Before something with teeth finds us.”

As they started unpacking again, their fingers brushed—again. A jolt passed between them. Felix didn’t pull away. Chan didn’t either. They both looked up, breath hitching. And then, almost in unison, they smiled. There was danger in this forest. There was uncertainty. But the real threat? It had blue eyes, honey-gold hair, and a smart mouth that Chan was rapidly becoming addicted to. And Chan knew—he was in trouble. Big, beautiful, golden-winged trouble.

Chapter Text

The wind howled outside their small clearing like a living thing. As night began to fall, a blue tint settled over the forest canopy, casting long shadows that chilled even the bravest soul. The trees, thick and towering, blocked out most of the dying sunlight, and with each passing minute, the temperature dropped.

Chan and Felix had just finished assembling the tent—an effort that involved more bickering than actual teamwork. But the result stood tall: a compact shelter, barely large enough for two people to stand side by side, but at least it offered some protection from the bitter cold.

However, as they unpacked the rest of their gear, a new problem revealed itself.

"Wait... is that—?" Felix blinked at the rolled-up mat Chan pulled from the bag.

Chan smirked. "Yep. One sleeping mat. One."

Felix frowned. "You have got to be kidding me… Please tell me there's a second mattress," Felix said, eyeing the single padded roll Chan pulled from the bottom of the pack.

Chan held it up, unrolling it with a flourish. It had a built-in duvet, more of a thick sleeping pod than a simple mat. He gave Felix a smirk. "Looks like it’s built for one."

Before Felix could protest, Chan stripped off his outer layers, unceremoniously tossing his shirt and pants into a pile. Felix blinked as the demon stepped into the pod in nothing but his boxers.

"What are you doing?!"

"Getting warm," Chan replied casually, sinking into the bedding with a satisfied hum. "This thing traps heat like a furnace.”

Felix threw up his hands. "So where the hell am I supposed to sleep?"

"Right here.” Chan patted the narrow space beside him. "There’s room. If you’re not scared of a little heat.”

"With you? I’d rather cuddle with a tiger."

Chan grinned lazily. "Your loss. I bite less."

Felix stared. “I hate you, your evil highness… I'm not sharing a mattress with a wolf from hell who flirts like he wants to eat me… or kill me.”

"Cross my heart," Chan said, feigning innocence. "No touching... unless you beg for it, butterfly.”

Felix rolled his eyes. "You’re not even pretending to be a gentleman."

Chan stretched luxuriously under the blanket. "Gentlemen don’t survive in the Underworld."

Felix turned toward the tent flap. The cold was already seeping into the thin fabric. "There’s got to be something else... another blanket, a cloak, anything.”

Chan yawned, eyes fluttering half closed. "Your options are simple: cuddle with the monster, or can cuddle up with the squirrels like Snow White. I'm going to sleep… Suit yourself.”

Felix blinked. "Wait. You’ve seen that movie? You? A demon?"

Chan's face froze for a split second. Then he smirked. "Not answering that."

Felix narrowed his eyes. "You little liar. You’ve seen Earth fairy tales.” Felix opened his mouth, then closed it, baffled. "You are the weirdest demon I’ve ever met."

"Thank you.” Chan mumbled. "Sleep tight, Your Highness,"

Chan rolled onto his side, pulling the duvet over his bare chest.  Felix sighed deeply. After a moment of glaring at the tent flap, he sat down on the mattress with a loud huff.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," he muttered.

He pulled off his boots, then hesitated. Chan peeked through half-lidded eyes.

"Need help undressing, angel? Because I’m more than willing."

"Shut up."

Felix stripped down to a thermal long-sleeved shirt and snug pants. He was already shivering, breath clouding in the air.

As he lifted the duvet, Chan's arm shot out to help him in. "Come on, gorgeous. No one's watching."

"You’re watching."

"Exactly."

Felix slid under the blanket, placing himself on the very edge, practically pressed against the wall of the tent.

Chan turned to face him, grinning. "I don't bite."

"You definitely bite."

"Only when asked nicely."

"Gods, shut up."

They both fell silent. For now.

The wind howled outside their small clearing like a living thing. As night began to fall, a blue tint settled over the forest canopy, casting long shadows that chilled even the bravest soul. The trees, thick and towering, blocked out most of the dying sunlight, and with each passing minute, the temperature dropped.

Time passed. The cold grew sharper, crueler. Felix trembled violently. Chan stirred. He turned the lantern back on and saw Felix’s pale lips and purple-tinged fingers.

"Felix?" Chan said, bolting upright.

Felix didn’t respond—just shivered harder. Chan reached over and touched his cheek. It was like ice.

"No, no, no—shit," he breathed, panic rising like bile in his throat. "Felix, hey—look at me. Look at me!”

Felix’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused.

"You’re going into hypothermia," Chan snapped. His voice dropped—no longer teasing, but dark and guttural, full of command and fear. It reverberated with something primal. Something demonic. "Take off your clothes. Now."

Felix flinched. "Wh-what? Are… are… you.. you.. in… insane?”

"I’m serious," Chan growled, eyes glowing with a dangerous light. His voice dropped even lower, resonating with power. "You’re freezing to death. If you don’t listen to me, you won’t survive the night."

Felix blinked, breath hitching. Chan looked… scared. Furious. Desperate.

“You’re… not… not…c..cold,” Felix muttered shivering. "How?"

"I’m a demon, Felix! Fire runs through my veins. The colder it gets, the hotter my body burns. I can keep you warm, but not like this. Your clothes are trapping the cold in. Either you strip and get in my arms, or I’ll strip you myself”

Felix’s eyes widened in horror. “No—no… way—“

"This isn’t a game. I’m not playing, Felix. You are so fucking stubborn…goddammit… freckles.”

Felix’s pride warred with his survival instinct. His limbs shook violently. His skin burned with icy needles.

Chan's voice softened for a moment. "Please."

Felix’s resistance crumbled. He sat up, teeth chattering, and stripped off his shirt and pants, revealing pale skin covered in goosebumps. Chan pulled back the duvet with urgency.

"Come here," he ordered. Chan opened his arms.

Felix hesitated, then crawled into Chan’s arms. Their bodies collided with a gasp.

The heat from Chan was immediate, overwhelming. Felix buried his face in Chan’s bare chest, gasping as warmth seeped into his frozen skin. His scent hit like a punch—male, earthy, edged with mint and lemon and something sweet beneath it… Caramel?… It was addictive. His skin was too soft and perfect to be that of a demon. His heart thundered against Chan’s ribs. His entire body responded. Muscles relaxed, skin tingled, breath came easier. The heat from Chan didn’t just warm—it melted.

Chan held him tightly, one arm wrapped around his back, the other smoothing slow circles down his spine. Their legs tangled. Skin to skin. Chan closed his eyes and pressed a kiss into Felix’s hair. Vanilla and cotton candy. Felix smelled like safety and temptation all at once.

Kill me now, Chan thought. Let the gods strike me down. I could die like this… With this angel between my arms…

Chan pulled him closer, one hand on his back, the other went to hug his waist.

"You're okay now," he whispered.

Felix could hear it—Chan’s heart, strong and steady. And his own heart matched the beat, synchronized like a song.

Felix groaned softly, curling against him, pressing his face to Chan’s chest. "Gods... you’re hot."

"In every sense of the word," Chan murmured, brushing his nose against Felix's hair. "But I’ll take the compliment."

Felix chuckled weakly. "I hate you."

"Liar."

His skin prickled as the heat returned to his limbs, slowly, then in waves. He could feel his fingers again. His toes… 

Chan’s body was perfect for him. Felix inhaled slowly, drawing in Chan’s scent. He hated how good it felt. How safe. Warm. Wanted. Felix squeezed his eyes shut. I can’t feel like this. Not for him. Not for a demon. But his fingers clutched Chan tighter.

Chan’s thoughts were less restrained. He felt Felix’s shivers begin to fade, felt the tension in his limbs soften. He wanted to whisper something stupid like he was in love with him. Something tender. But he didn’t.

Instead, he said, "You know, if you wanted to rub against me, you could’ve just asked… instead of putting on this hypothermia show..."

Felix groaned. "Don’t ruin this."

Chan laughed quietly, resting his chin on Felix's damp hair. "Too late.”

Felix laughed softly, weakly. "Still can’t stop with the comments, can you?"

"You’re almost naked in my arms. Let me have this… I’m dreaming my best dream.”

"You said no touching."

"I said no unwanted touching."

Felix groaned against his skin. But he didn’t move. He smiled against Chan’s chest. Their bodies aligned naturally. Felix’s legs tangled with Chan’s even more. His hands pressed to Chan’s back. His head rested over Chan’s heart. Felix shifted slightly. Chan’s hand, which had been resting innocently on his lower back, slipped a little lower.

“Your hand is very low,” Felix said without lifting his head.

“You said you were cold,” Chan replied, his voice a low rumble. “I’m just covering more surface area.”

“If you keep doing that, I swear—”

“What?” Chan purred. “Moan again? Because you did. Earlier…. And it was music to my ears…”

Felix groaned. “Shut. Up.”

“Say it sweeter, angel. Maybe I’ll listen.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re in my arms… So I win today, angel.”

“You’re insufferable.” Felix rolled his eyes and buried his face deeper into Chan’s chest, trying—and failing—not to smile.

Chan chuckled. “Mmm. That sound. Make it again.”

“Stop.”

“Say my name in that voice.”

“Chan,” Felix murmured, barely above a whisper.

Chan’s breath hitched. His entire body clenched.

“Uff…I died. Right now. Go ahead. You killed me with that.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“And hard.”

Felix froze. “What—”

“It’s your fault…,” Chan added innocently.

Felix snorted. “You’re the worst.”

Felix’s heart ached. There was something about this—about being this close, being seen and held and teased—that made something shift inside him. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to let go. Chan moved to be eye level with Felix and buried his face in Felix's neck for extra warmth.

“You’re breathing on my neck,” Felix whispered.

“I like the way your skin shivers.”

“Don’t think it is because of you.”

“Liar.”

“You’re not even trying to behave.”

“Would you prefer I pretend I’m not obsessed with every inch of you?” Chan murmured, voice husky now, honest in a way that made Felix’s throat go dry.

Felix said nothing. He couldn’t. His body was already melting against Chan’s, his fingers twitching slightly where they gripped his side.

“You’re lucky I can’t feel my legs yet,” he muttered.

“Otherwise?”

“I’d kick you.”

“That’s how angels flirt? I love it. Kick me more, babe.”

“You’re hopeless.”

The silence returned for a moment, but it was warm now. Comfortable. Tense only in the best ways. Felix shifted again, thigh brushing against Chan’s. Chan let out a sharp inhale.

“Your thigh’s brushing mine,” he whispered. “Are you doing that on purpose? Are you trying to tempt me, angel?”

“Shut up and sleep.”

“You’re breathing funny,” Chan said.

“I’m trying not to notice you’re naked.”

Chan chuckled, voice low and thick. “Would it help if I put on clothes.. so you feel more comfortable?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh?”

“Because you’d have to let me go.”

Chan swallowed. “Are... are you flirting back with me?” Chan moved again to return to the initial position where Felix's head was under Chan's lips.

Felix shook his head, smiling softly. He looked up slightly, meeting Chan’s eyes. Then, with surprising gentleness, he leaned up and pressed a kiss to Chan’s neck. Soft. Lingering. Right over his pulse. Chan froze.

“That’s your goodnight kiss,” Felix said. “Because you saved my life.”

Chan swallowed thickly. “I’d prefer one on the lips. With tongue.”

Felix grinned. “That’s not happening. I hate you too much.”

“I hate you more.”

“Liar.”

They didn’t say anything else.

Felix laid his head back down against Chan’s chest, and Chan tightened his hold just a little more. And for the first time in a long time—for both of them—sleep came easy.

Two heartbeats, slow and calm. “Two enemies”. Entwined. Alive.

________________________

Morning came softly. Golden light filtered in through the thin canvas of the tent, gentle and warm, casting a pale glow over tangled limbs and shared breath. Somewhere outside, birds chirped. A breeze rustled the trees.

Felix was the first to stir. For a moment, he didn’t move. He didn’t want to. The warmth was perfect. The weight around him—solid, grounding, alive—felt like an anchor. Safe. Comforting. Too comforting. His cheek was still pressed against bare skin, and the steady thump of a heart beneath lulled him into a strange haze. He could feel every inch of Chan against him. Their legs were still tangled. Chan’s arm was still around his waist, palm splayed over his lower back like it belonged there.

Felix blinked slowly. He had slept. Like a baby. No dreams, no nightmares. Just warmth. Just him. And that terrified him. He started to shift away, but the grip around his waist tightened.

“Mm-mm,” Chan’s voice rasped, still half-asleep. “You move, I die.”

Felix stilled. “Chan—”

“Shh. You’re literally in my dream right now. Don’t ruin it.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re divine,” Chan corrected, finally opening one eye. His voice was hoarse, morning-rough, tinged with sleep and something darker. “And naked. Mostly. In my arms. This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Felix flushed, trying—and failing—not to squirm. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m honest.” Chan nuzzled into Felix’s hair. “And possibly hard again.”

Felix froze. “Again?”

“I was good all night,” Chan whispered. “Didn’t even grind once.”

“You want a medal?”

“No, I want you to make it worse. Wiggle or something… Sit on me or ride me.”

Felix groaned. “You’re the worst demon in existence.”

“Still your favorite enemy, though.”

Felix didn’t respond. Because yes, maybe. And that was the problem. Chan’s hand began to move slowly over Felix’s back, warm and possessive. His fingertips brushed down his spine in lazy, affectionate strokes. Felix shivered.

“You slept well,” he murmured.

“I did.”

“Like a little baby angel.”

Felix scowled. “Don’t say that.”

Chan grinned into his hair. “You did, though. All soft and snuggly. Clung to me like I was your personal space heater.”

“You were my personal space heater.”

“And your cuddle toy.”

“That part was not requested.”

“You moaned in your sleep.”

“I did not!”

“Swear to hell you did. It was adorable. I almost cried.”

Felix’s entire body flushed red.

Chan shifted just enough to glance down at him. His grin turned feral. “You’re blushing.”

Felix pushed a hand against Chan’s chest in an attempt to put space between them. It didn’t work. Chan just pulled him closer.

“Gods,” Felix muttered, “why are you like this?”

“Because I’ve been holding back for so long, and now I have you wrapped around me like a gift, and I refuse to be noble about it.”

Felix searched his face, and what scared him most was how true that felt. How easy it had been to rest close to him. To trust him.

“Babe…let me be your bad habit.”

“No… And don’t call me that!!”

“Let me be your morning sin.”

Felix laughed despite himself. “Absolutely not.”

Chan leaned closer, nose brushing Felix’s. “What if I make you breakfast after?”

“We don’t have breakfast.”

“I’ll hunt something for you.”

“You’ll burn the forest down.”

“Romantic.”

“You’re insane.”

Chan kissed his forehead gently. “You slept in my arms all night.”

Felix bit his lip. “Don’t read into that.”

“I won’t,” Chan said. “But I will remember it for the rest of my unnatural life.”

Felix’s heart stuttered. He pulled back just enough to sit up, tugging the blanket around himself. Chan let him go, but his eyes never left him. His hair was a mess. His voice still had that sleepy rasp. And he looked at Felix like he was something sacred.

“You’re staring.”

“You’re glowing.”

“I am not.”

“You’re sunshine with a death glare. My favorite kind.”

“Shut up.”

Chan reached over, tugged gently at the blanket to expose Felix’s shoulder, and pressed a kiss there. Felix’s breath caught.

“That’s for surviving today….,” Chan whispered.

_______________________________

By midday, they were deep into the forest again. The air was crisp, birds silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. They had walked for hours without incident—too many hours. No shifting trees. No whispering voices. No vanishing paths. Nothing at all. Not even the sun played tricks on them through the branches.

"Maybe this forest’s reputation is overhyped," Chan muttered, adjusting the strap on his pack. “We’re two dangerously attractive men and nothing’s tried to kill us all morning. Disrespectful, really.”

Felix, several paces ahead, rolled his eyes. "Don’t tempt fate."

"Temptation is in my job description."

"Then do your job quietly."

Chan smirked, but shut up. The woods eventually opened into a glade flooded with silver-blue light. At its center was a crystalline lake, fed by a tall, narrow waterfall cascading down dark stone. Mist curled at the edges of the water. The surface glistened like glass.

Chan dropped his pack and stretched. "Alright, I’m taking a swim."

Felix turned sharply. "No, you’re not."

Chan was already peeling off his shirt. “You worry too much. Water’s clean. No cursed fog. No glowing tentacles. Looks safe to me.”

“Because deadly things never look beautiful first,” Felix snapped.

But Chan was already stepping in. The water rippled around his ankles, then his knees. Then his waist.

“It’s cold. Holy hell.” He laughed and dunked his head under.

Felix’s heart dropped. And then—he heard it. A melody. Distant at first. Echoing from the waterfall, carried on the mist. High and soft. Unnatural. His blood ran cold.

“No,” Felix breathed. “No, no, no—”

He clamped his hands over his ears immediately, eyes wide. "Chan!" he shouted. "Get out! Cover your ears!"

But it was too late. Chan stood waist-deep in the water, frozen. His arms hung limp at his sides. His head tilted slightly to the left, mouth parted, eyes distant—clouded like glass. He didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. The singing grew louder. 

The surface of the water broke. A woman emerged, or something close to one. Long, wet hair clung to skin as pale as moonlight. Her eyes were pitch black. Her mouth curled in a smile too wide, too sharp.

Felix recognized it instantly. A forest siren. Not the sea-bound kind. These were twisted, impure creatures that seduced with song and fed on souls. They didn’t charm. They devoured. Felix didn’t hesitate.

He snapped his wings wide—not to fly, not to cheat, but to shield his ears with thick feathers, muffling the melody. Then he charged into the water. The cold struck like knives, but he pushed forward, teeth clenched. The siren shot toward Chan like a spear. Felix reached him in time. He grabbed Chan and pulled him back with both arms, struggling against the water. Chan didn’t resist—his body slack, unresponsive. Felix dragged him, step by agonizing step, toward the shore.

They were almost out when the lake exploded behind them. Something slammed into Felix’s back. Claws raked down his arm as he twisted and fell, pushing Chan up onto the rocks. Blood bloomed in the water. Felix screamed as the siren’s weight pulled him under.

She moved fast, too fast. Her claws curled around his throat, her teeth snapping toward his face. Felix drove his elbow into her gut, twisted, kicked upward. They surfaced in a burst of foam and blood. He gasped for air—only for her to drag him down again. Her claws bit into his ribs, drawing more blood. Her mouth opened wide—unnaturally wide—revealing rows of jagged teeth. He felt eels wrap around his ankles, dragging him down deeper. The water grew darker. He was suffocating. No.

With a roar, Felix drew the dagger from his thigh strap and stabbed it upward into her side. She shrieked. He tore the blade free and slashed again, across her throat. The siren recoiled, black blood clouding the water. The eels let go. Felix kicked, burst upward, and broke the surface with a choking gasp. He staggered to shore, dripping and bleeding.

Chan lay motionless, still dazed.

Felix dropped beside him and slapped his face hard. “Wake up!”

Chan blinked rapidly. His eyes slowly focused. “...firefly?”

Felix exhaled a shaky laugh, soaked and shaking. “You idiot.”

Chan groaned, sitting up slowly. “What the hell happened…?”

“You were enchanted. A siren. She nearly killed you.”

Chan touched his temple. “My head is pounding. I remember... singing. Her eyes...”

“You walked straight into her trap,” Felix snapped. “Like a moth to flame.”

“You saved me.”

Felix froze.

“You could’ve run,” Chan added softly. “Left me there. But you didn’t.”

Felix looked away. “I don’t want you dead.”

“You hate me… don’t you?” Chan's heart beat strongly knowing that the being for whom he had such strong feelings did not hate him as much as he said.

“I loathe you,” Felix corrected. “But I loathe you alive.”

Chan gave a soft laugh, then caught Felix’s wrist, gently turning his arm. Blood trickled from a ragged scratch.

“You’re hurt… you are bleeding…,” he said, voice tight.

“It’s nothing.”

“You bled for me.”

“I swear, if you start writing poetry—”

Chan took his hand. Their fingers intertwined. Felix stopped breathing.

“Thank you,” Chan whispered. “From the bottom of my demon heart.”

Felix swallowed hard. The moment stretched. The world faded. He could feel the steady pulse of Chan’s fingers against his own. Warm, alive. And terrifying.

Chapter Text

Another night had passed. Another night tangled in each other. Felix had awoken slowly, his body wrapped in warmth and limbs that didn’t belong to him. It took a groggy moment to realize that the heat on his back, the strong arm curled around his waist, and the slow, even breathing at his nape all belonged to Chan.

Spooning. They were spooning. Felix’s heart had nearly punched out of his chest when he realized the shape pressing against his backside was very real. And very hard.

He tried to move. He did. But that only made it worse—Chan groaned low in his sleep and pulled Felix even closer. His hips shifted, his breath stirred Felix's hair, and his hardness ground ever so lightly into Felix’s lower back. And Felix didn’t hate it. He should've. He really should've.

Instead, he drifted back to sleep with a burning face and vivid dreams that he wouldn't dare admit to anyone—least of all Chan. Morning came too soon.

"Sleep well, freckles?" Chan asked with a lopsided smirk, voice still scratchy from sleep as he stretched his arms behind his head.

Felix rolled his eyes. "You were practically humping me in your sleep."

"You say that like it's a complaint," Chan teased, his eyes sparkling. "Did I give you wet dreams?"

Felix flushed and turned away, grabbing his satchel to hide his face. "You’re a menace."

"You didn’t push me away. Just saying."

The demon's chuckles followed them as they packed up and continued toward the distant silhouette of the castle.

Hours passed. The forest thinned, and the afternoon sun turned golden overhead. The path was clearer now, and the spires of the castle gleamed like shards of onyx in the far distance. But the hike was brutal. Two days of minimal food had finally caught up to Felix. His legs shook, and his breath came in short bursts.

"Can we stop?… Im so hungry…” he rasped.

Chan immediately turned, concern flashing through his eyes. "Yeah. Sit down."

Felix collapsed onto a flat rock, his body aching. The view was spectacular—the sun was already beginning to lower, casting the sky in hues of amber and rose. He looked around to ask Chan something, but the demon was gone. Panic flared in his chest. He waited. Five minutes. Ten. Half an hour.

"Chan?" he called out.

Just when anxiety was morphing into full-blown fear, Chan reappeared, carrying the bodies of two plump forest pheasants by the legs. Felix gaped.

"Did you just—hunt those?"

Chan shrugged, clearly proud of himself. "You said you were hungry."

"With what? Your hands?"

Chan grinned and held up Felix's boot dagger, which he’d pilfered one day ago. "Borrowed this again."

Felix stared in disbelief as Chan began to expertly skin and clean the birds. He did it with methodical precision—clearly not his first time. He found a handful of dry sticks and rocks, sparked a flame, and pierced the cleaned birds onto wooden skewers.

“I hunt and I do this almost every day for my princess Lunarys," Chan confesses. "Because if I left her alone to hunt and eat whatever she wanted... God... she'd destroy the ecosystems in a second." Chan laughed. "I adore that little girl."

Felix sat quietly as Chan turned the spit over the fire. The flames crackled between them, casting flickering shadows over Chan’s face. His jaw was tight, focused. Dangerous, even in stillness. Felix couldn’t stop staring.

"You know," Felix said after a long silence, "you’re really bad at being a demon."

Chan didn’t even flinch. "Come again?"

Felix tilted his head, watching him. "You’ve done nothing but keep me warm, feed me, save me—twice now. You’re kind. You care if I starve or freeze. What kind of demon gives a damn?"

The meat hissed in the flames. Chan looked away. He knew where the conversation was going. It was a very personal and sensitive topic for him.

“Stop with this… I don’t wanna talk—”

But Felix leaned in, ignoring him. "You hunted for me today. You made food. You didn’t have to. You could’ve let me faint from hunger… But you didn’t. Why?"

Chan’s nostrils flared. "I said stop."

"You didn’t even hesitate," Felix continued, softer now. "You just saw I was tired and vanished into the trees. And you do the same for your dragon… You take care of her and love her like your own daughter… That’s not the demon I was told to fear. That’s not the demon who’s supposed to be cruel, selfish, brutal. That’s not you."

"Shut up."

The growl in Chan’s voice was low. Dangerous. It vibrated like thunder in the pit of Felix’s stomach. But Felix didn’t stop.

"You're not like the others. Not like your friends or your Father, the sadistic king. You’re not cold or cruel. You feel things. Deeply. I see it, Chan. I feel it. You have a beautiful heart, whether you admit it or not."

Chan stood. The fire reflected in his eyes now, glowing red like embers. His body tensed, shoulders tight, hands clenched at his sides.

"Felix," he said, voice grave and low, "you need to shut. The fuck. Up."

But Felix didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked, voice calm. "That someone might see the truth? That someone might realize you're not a monster? that you have a gentle heart?"

Chan snarled. His demonic aura flared—hot and feral. The forest went deathly quiet. The birds stopped singing. Even the fire seemed to pull back.

"I said stop!! I’m the Prince of the Underworld! .” His voice was a roar now, violent and harsh, filled with real rage. "I’m not playing with you. This isn’t funny. Shut your fucking mouth… Felix.”

Still, Felix held his gaze, steady. Unshaken.

"Why does it scare you so much?" he whispered. "To be seen?"

Something snapped. Chan stepped forward so fast it was a blur, and now he was towering over Felix, chest heaving, jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter… like Chan was ready to kill him.

"You think you know me?" he growled, every syllable like fire. "You think because I didn't let you die in the fucking woods that makes me some gentle-hearted saint? I should’ve let you freeze. I should’ve walked on and left your stubborn angel body to rot in the cold."

“But… You didn’t," Felix said simply.

Chan’s fists trembled. "You have no idea what I am."

"No," Felix said, voice almost a whisper, "but I think I’m starting to."

"Shut up."

“Shut me up!.”

It came out before Felix could stop it. Silence. A single breath passed between them. Then—

Chan moved. Fast. Silent. Inevitable. Like gravity. He reached for Felix—one hand rising to the back of his neck, fingers curling into the soft hair at his nape. His touch wasn’t rough, but it burned. Chan’s thumb traced the line of Felix’s jaw, slow, reverent, and then—

He leaned in. Their lips met. It was soft at first. Tentative. Like a question. Felix’s heart stopped. Chan’s lips were warm, fuller than he expected, and impossibly gentle for someone so furious just moments before. It wasn’t a kiss of punishment. It was a confession. A trembling truth.

Felix’s eyes fluttered shut. He melted into the contact, pressing closer, feeling Chan’s breath hitch against his mouth. Then something shifted. The hesitation cracked—shattered—and heat surged through both of them. Chan tilted his head, deepening the kiss. His grip tightened at Felix’s nape, pulling him impossibly closer. Their bodies collided—chests, hips, thighs—and every place they touched sparked like a live wire.

Felix moaned softly into Chan’s mouth. That tiny sound wrecked Chan. His lips parted, and his tongue brushed—barely—against Felix’s lower lip. A silent request. Felix’s breath caught in his throat. Yes, he thought. Yes. He opened for him.

Their mouths fit together like they were made to. Chan’s tongue swept in slow, deliberate, tasting him, claiming him. Felix moaned, quiet and shocked at the sound, at how good it felt. Their tongues slid together, warm and wet and intoxicating, and he was dizzy from it—drunk off Chan’s mouth.

Felix’s hands rose instinctively, sliding under Chan’s cloak, splaying against his bare back. Hot skin met trembling fingers. Muscles flexed beneath his touch. Chan groaned low, primal, into the kiss.

They kissed like they were starving. Like they’d waited a hundred lifetimes for this moment. Like it could end at any second. Chan shifted, bringing both arms around Felix now—one hand still tangled in his hair, the other pressed against the small of his back, anchoring him. His body was fire—blazing heat radiating into every inch of Felix’s frame. Felix clung to him, fingers digging into him like he might float away otherwise.

Their mouths moved together in rhythm—slow, then hungry, then slow again, like waves pulling and crashing. Teeth scraped gently. Tongues tangled. Their breathing was ragged, uneven, hot against each other’s lips.

Felix whimpered softly when Chan kissed him deeper, tilting him back just enough to change the angle. His knees almost buckled, but Chan held him firm, kissing him like he needed him to breathe.

What is this, Felix thought, What are you doing to me?

No one had ever touched his mouth. But the Prince of the Underworld was touching it like it was sacred. No one had ever made him feel like he might come undone just from the taste of someone’s lips. Chan’s fingers slipped up into his curls, tugging gently, and Felix moaned again—quiet, involuntary. He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care if the trees heard, if the sky split open, if the gods themselves were watching. All that mattered was this. Him.

Chan broke the kiss only to breathe. His forehead rested against Felix’s, both of them panting. Lips swollen. Faces flushed. But he didn’t let go. Felix opened his beautiful blue eyes slowly. Chan’s were already on him. Dark and burning, but wide with something softer, deeper. Vulnerable. Neither of them spoke. Words would ruin it.

Chan’s thumb brushed over Felix’s bottom lip, slow. Reverent. His hand still cradled the back of his neck like he was something precious, something breakable. Felix’s heart thundered so loudly he was sure Chan could hear it. He felt kissed all the way to his soul. And he didn’t want it to stop. Not now. Not ever.

“Co…Come on... let's go eat," Chan interrupted the moment.

"Uh... yeah... yeah... sure..." Felix added still in shock.

_______________________________

They ate in silence. Not the kind born from awkwardness or resentment, but the heavy, lingering quiet of something unspoken—something sacred. Their minds didn’t stray far. Every bite was mechanical, every breath subtly shallow, because all either of them could think about was the kiss. That kiss.

It pulsed behind their eyelids, replayed again and again like a memory refusing to settle. The way Chan’s hand had cradled Felix’s neck. The way Felix had moaned into his mouth. The way they had devoured and melted into each other like there would never be another chance. Like they’d both waited for it without realizing they were waiting at all.

They walked through the dying light of day without a word. Addicted, both of them. Without knowing how, without meaning to, they’d become tethered. Every brush of the shoulder, every stolen glance, was a spark against their skin.

By the time the forest was totally dark, their path was barely visible. Darkness pooled between trees and the temperature dropped with every gust of wind.

“We should set up camp,” Felix said softly, finally breaking the silence.

Chan nodded. “Yeah.”

That was it. Just a single word. They worked side by side, but they didn’t look at each other. Felix gathered what little wood he could find while Chan unrolled the camping gear. The air between them was hot despite the chill—charged, restless.

Inside the tent, Chan was adjusting the mattress when Felix stepped in front of him. Close. Intentional. His expression unreadable under the flickering light of their lantern.

“…Sorry,” Felix said.

Chan looked up, surprised. His brows drew together slightly, eyes flickering in confusion. “For what?”

“For earlier,” Felix said, voice low. “Not the kiss. I’d never apologize for that.”

Chan blinked, clearly not expecting that.

Felix took a breath, stepping closer. “I meant… I’m sorry if what I said upset you. I didn’t mean to push you. And I know you probably still hate me—and you don’t have to say otherwise—but I just... I didn’t want you to stop talking to me… just because I said something stupid. I promise, I won’t ever bring it up again. The... you having feelings thing… or about your soft heart.”

Chan looked at him for a long time.

Finally, he exhaled. “I’m not mad because of what you said.”

Felix tilted his head. “Then why?”

“I’m mad to myself… Because I kissed you,” Chan muttered.

Felix’s heart skipped. “And that’s… a bad thing?”

“You’re an angel,” Chan said quietly, eyes dropping to the floor. “A prince. You were supposed to have your first kiss with someone special… Not with a demon who can’t even control his temper…. I ruined that…”

Felix’s lips parted. “Chan…”

“I took something from you,” he added, voice more strained now. “And I can’t give it back.”

Felix stepped closer until there was barely any space between them. His voice came out soft, almost a whisper. “You didn’t take anything. You gave me something. That kiss…” He smiled faintly, heart aching with sincerity. “That kiss was… incredible. Magical, even. And I don’t regret telling you to shut me up.”

Chan blinked.

“I meant it,” Felix continued. “You shut me up the best way possible.”

A long breath escaped Chan’s lips. His shoulders relaxed just slightly.

"Come on. What, you think I was going to save my first kiss for my wedding day?” Felix said. “If it hadn’t been you, it probably would’ve been the baker. Or the fisherman. Or the poor stable boy who flirts with me when he thinks I’m not looking.”

Chan let out a breath that could almost be called a laugh, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“I’m serious,” Felix said, grinning now and trying to cheer him up. “At least now I get to say my first kiss was with someone who actually knew what he was doing… you are a good kisser, little devil.”

That pulled a real smile from Chan. It was small, almost shy—but it was warm. Sincere.

“Still,” Chan murmured. “It shouldn’t have been me. You deserve someone who…”

Felix cut him off, voice steady. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve.”

Chan looked at him again, and this time there was no anger. Just quiet confusion. Wonder. Fear.

Felix reached out gently, brushing a thumb over the back of Chan’s hand. “Please… don’t stop talking to me. I want things to go back to how they were before.”

“Before?” Chan repeated.

Felix smiled. “You teasing me every five minutes.”

Chan raised an eyebrow. “So… I can keep teasing you?”

Felix sighed dramatically. “If I must suffer for the sake of peace between our realms… so be it.”

They both smiled. Without another word, they undressed—layers peeled away in the cold. Not with desire, not with shame, just practicality. Familiar now. Natural. Felix slid under the blankets first and Chan followed, pulling them both in close.

Tangled limbs. Entwined heat. A routine they hadn’t meant to fall into, but one neither could now live without. Felix curled into Chan’s chest, sighing as the warmth seeped into his bones. The scent of him—forest and smoke and something distinctly him—wrapped around him like a second blanket. Chan's arm hooked around Felix’s waist tightly. He didn’t let go.

After a long silence, his voice rumbled into Felix’s hair. “For your first time…”

Felix blinked, eyes barely open.

“…You kiss really fucking well,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he didn’t want Felix to hear it.

Felix smiled. “Now you’re just being nice.”

Chan looked away. “I’m being honest. I’m gonna be hard for days because of that.”

Felix laughed, heat blooming across his cheeks. “Go to sleep, wolf from hell.”

“Not until I stop picturing that kiss.”

Felix groaned. “You sound like a teenager.”

“I feel like one,” Chan admitted, voice softer now. “I used to imagine what your lips tasted like, you know.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “…And?”

Chan looked at him again, voice serious. “You taste better than I imagined.”

Felix flushed from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. They hug under the blankets, closer than before. Skin to skin. Felix curled into Chan’s body like it was a second home, safe and warm and made just for him. Chan wrapped his arms around him tightly, burying his face in Felix’s hair.

“Night, little devil,” Felix whispered.

“…Goodnight, little angel.”

Neither of them said the rest aloud. But they both thought it: Don’t stop holding me. Don’t let this be a dream.

________________________________

Morning broke soft and golden.

A warm light filtered through the trees as birds began to sing above them. Felix blinked slowly, still pressed against Chan’s bare chest, his hand resting just over the demon’s heart. Neither of them had moved much through the night. Neither wanted to. The rhythm of Chan’s breathing had become a lullaby, the steady rise and fall anchoring Felix in a dream he didn’t want to end.

They woke up slowly, shared a few quiet looks, and then—like nothing had happened—Chan ruined the moment with one of his signature smirks.

“I swear, if you grind your ass against me one more night, I’m gonna wake up hard for the rest of my life.”

Felix shoved him playfully. “You’ve already been waking up like that.”

Chan stretched like a cat, smug. “Can you blame me? You’re basically a walking wet dream.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “It’s too early for this.”

“Never too early to admire divine ass.”

“By the gods, stop.”

But he was smiling—really smiling—and Chan saw it.

That morning, they packed up the tent quickly. The air was crisp and bright, and the path ahead was clear for once. After barely two days of actual food and too many close calls with death, the two of them felt light on their feet, like they were finally moving toward something real.

Felix glanced at the sky as they walked and spotted it: the dark silhouette of a fortress rising in the distance between the peaks. His breath caught. “Is that…”

Chan looked, then nodded. “The castle. Less than twenty kilometers left. A few more hours.”

Felix’s chest swelled. They were close. They were actually going to make it. They walked fast, energized by the goal in sight. Chan made filthy comments about every stick Felix tripped over. Felix countered every one of them with a clever jab. It was like nothing had changed—and yet, everything had.

Felix kept sneaking glances at him. Chan laughed so easily now, smiled more often, and even though he tried to hide it, there was something softer in his voice when he spoke to Felix. And Felix… Felix was terrified. Somewhere along the way, Chan had become important. Not just as a companion or rival. But as someone whose presence made Felix feel alive. Like the stars were brighter when he laughed. Like the nights were warmer when they curled into each other. He couldn’t even think about saying goodbye.

His chest tightened. Just as they rounded a bend in the path, they both stopped short.

It stretched endlessly before them—tall yellow grass, swaying lazily in the breeze. And just above it, hundreds of insectoid creatures floated inches above the earth. Their wings shimmered like glass, but their legs were long, sharp like needles, and their stingers glowed faintly with venom.

Felix swallowed hard. “Are those—?”

Chan narrowed his eyes. “Venomflies.,, They inject paralytic venom,” Chan muttered, eyes narrowing. “One sting to the muscle and it shuts down for forty-eight hours.”

Felix scanned the terrain. “It’s at least five kilometers wide. No cover. No trees. Just—” He exhaled. “Just a fucking death trap.” 

Chan nodded grimly.

Felix stared at the field, calculating. “If we run at full speed… and dodge well enough…”

“It’s risky,” Chan muttered.

“But we trained for this kind of thing,” Felix added. “Five kilometers. That’s just one long sprint.”

Chan raised a brow. “You call this optimism?”

“I call this a challenge.” He looked toward the far edge of the field. “If we run flat-out, avoid their patterns… we make it.”

Chan’s jaw flexed. Then he grinned. “Race you.”

And Felix ran.

The swarm erupted the moment he entered. A cloud of wings. A blur of movement. But Felix was faster—his steps light, legs strong, weaving through with ease. He ducked under one that dived from above, leapt over another that skimmed the ground. His heart raced, but he grinned through it.

Adrenaline surged through him. He felt alive.

Behind him, Chan followed seconds later—larger, louder, but just as agile. He cut through the air like a blade, dodging with brutal efficiency, eyes locked on Felix’s back. The bugs screamed around them in waves, crashing against the wind with a shrill, furious buzz.

They were halfway across. Then three-quarters. Only a single kilometer left. That’s when it happened.

Chan’s gaze flicked up for just a second. He saw Felix ahead—his golden hair whipping behind him, his face lit with joy even in the chaos. He looked so free, like a damn sunbeam sprinting through a storm. And for a second—just one second—Chan forgot what he was doing.

He thought about the kiss. And then… his father’s voice, venomous and low in his memory:
“Angels are the true monsters. They will ruin you. Break you. Use you.” The doubt hit him like a punch to the chest.

That’s when he felt it. A searing sting, sharp and sudden, tore through his right thigh. The world tilted.

“FUCK!” He stumbled.

A deep slash oozed blood instantly, and one of the venomflies latched onto him—its stinger buried deep. He grabbed it, ripped it off with a growl, but it was too late. His leg already felt cold.

Felix turned sharply. “CHAN?!”

Chan gritted his teeth. “KEEP GOING!”

But Felix was already charging back, dodging another wave of venomflies as he ran toward him. “Shut up and move!” he shouted. “I’m not leaving you!”

Chan’s leg collapsed under him. He hit the ground hard, biting back a yell of pain. The buzzing around them grew louder—angrier. Felix reached him, wrapped his arm around Chan’s back, and heaved. The weight of him almost dragged them both down, but Felix held on.

“Just a little more—come on,” Felix said breathlessly, eyes wild, scanning the air for more attackers.

Chan’s breath was ragged. “You’re insane…”

“I know. Now get your ass moving.”

Somehow—somehow—they pushed through the last few meters, Felix carrying most of Chan’s weight, his own legs trembling from the effort.

Then the swarm stopped. They’d crossed the edge. They collapsed into the dirt.

Chan gasped, staring up at the sky, blood pouring down his thigh. “Shit…”

“Don’t move,” Felix said, already kneeling beside him. “Don’t fucking move—”

He ripped the bottom of his shirt with trembling hands, tearing a long strip of fabric and wrapping it tightly around the wound. Blood soaked through fast.

Chan watched him. His brows furrowed in concentration, mouth parted, eyes blazing in panic. Those eyes—those impossible blue eyes. So fierce. So bright. So fucking beautiful.

“Stop bleeding,” Felix whispered, knotting the fabric tighter. “Gods, please just—stop.”

Chan’s vision swam. Not from pain. From emotion. This angel—this wild, stupid, brave angel—had turned around in a death field. For him.

“Lix…” Chan whispered, barely audible.

Felix looked up. “Does it hurt?”

“Too much.…”

He wasn’t talking about the leg.

Felix blinked, then glanced away, clearly shaken. He grabbed a nearby branch, thick and sturdy, tested it with his foot, then handed it to Chan.

“Here. You’ll need it.”

Chan stared at it.

“Come on,” Felix urged, looping Chan’s arm around his neck again. “Castle’s close. We’ll finish this together.”

Chan didn’t move. He couldn’t. Not yet. His chest felt too full—of blood, of pain, of everything he couldn’t say. He looked at Felix. Really looked at him. That strong jaw, the delicate mouth, the way his brows drew together in concern, the way he never hesitated to save him. Not once.

He’s not a weakness. He’s the only reason I’ve made it this far. He is… He is the love of my life.

“…You’re incredible,” Chan whispered.

Felix smiled softly. “Yeah, yeah. Save the compliments till we’re safe.”

Chan forced himself up, leaning on the stick and Felix. They moved slowly—awkwardly—but they moved. Chan had his arm over Felix’s shoulders. Felix held his waist, steady and solid.

Ahead, the dark silhouette of Castle Obscura loomed like a promise.

“Run ahead,” Chan muttered. “Win the race. You’re almost there.”

Felix shook his head. “I told you. We finish this together.”

Their steps were uneven. Chan limped, Felix supported him, but neither complained. As they walked toward the castle, Chan let himself fall into silence. Into the quiet heat of Felix’s body. Into the way those fingers curled around his hip like they belonged there.

And for the first time in his cursed, chaotic life… He admitted to himself that he was completely, helplessly, and irreversibly in love with the angel beside him.

Chapter Text

Felix and Chan trudged through the last stretch of the dusty road. The silhouette of Castle Obscura had stood on the horizon for over an hour, looming larger with every step. Now, at just under twenty kilometers, it towered like a monstrous relic of ancient power—its jagged black spires stabbing the sky, banners snapping in the dry wind.

They walked in silence, the only sound being the crunch of gravel under their boots and the occasional groan from Chan as his leg reminded him of the venomfly sting. Though he'd lost a lot of blood, he didn’t complain. Not once. Felix noticed the way he leaned more of his weight on the makeshift crutch with each passing minute, and it made something twist inside his chest.

It was almost nightfall when the castle finally came into full view. Torches lined the steps leading up to the massive obsidian gates, and standing at the top of those stairs, flanked by a mix of demons and angels, was the king. Their friends were among the crowd—Felix recognized the glowing eyes of his angelic brethren and the snarls of Chan’s fellow demons. Relief surged in his chest.

They'd made it.

As Felix and Chan stepped forward, nearing the base of the stairs, the king clapped slowly.

"Well, well... I must say, I’m surprised," the king said, his voice echoing across the stone courtyard. "I had serious doubts that you'd make it this far. Together, no less. I rather expected one of you to leave the other behind, perhaps with a dagger in his back."

Felix scowled. Chan rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "What a prick."

Their friends waited just beyond the stairs, arms open, expressions of awe and relief painted on their faces. Felix moved to climb the steps.

"Ah-ah," the king called out sharply, raising a hand. "Don’t be so eager. The competition isn’t over."

Felix froze mid-step. He turned slowly to face the king, confusion and exhaustion flashing in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

The king grinned. "There were always two parts to this trial. Survive the journey through the forest, yes... but the true test? The final trial? That begins now."

Chan’s grip tightened around his crutch. "You bastard.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Are we fighting each other?”

The king laughed—cold and amused. “Oh, no, no. That would be far too predictable. No. You’ll fight together… against this.”

With a snap of his fingers, the ground beneath them trembled. Stone doors on the far side of the courtyard rumbled open, revealing a path leading down into the depths of a colossal arena carved into the base of the mountain.

"You will face the creature known only as the Maw-Troll," the king said, walking toward the edge of the platform to look down into the arena. "Twelve meters tall. Fangs like spears. Skin harder than obsidian. Strong enough to crush the spine of a dragon between two fingers."

Felix's heart dropped.

The king turned back to them, voice like ice. "It has never been defeated."

Felix spun to Chan. "You can’t fight like this. You've been stung. You're still bleeding."

“I’m fine,” Chan said quickly.

Felix immediately turned to the king. “No, your highness. He can’t fight. He was stung—his leg—”

Chan straightened, face pale but defiant. "I said I’m fine, Felix.”

Felix stepped closer. "No, you're not. If we have to fight, it has to be fair."

The king clicked his tongue. "Very well, angel. If you're so insistent..."

He gestured to a guard, who stepped forward and handed Chan a small silver vial. Chan eyed it suspiciously.

"Antidote," the king said. "Fast-acting. Disgusting taste."

Chan downed it in one gulp and immediately gagged. "Sweet hell, it tastes like death."

Felix chuckled despite the tension, his shoulders easing for a breath. Chan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glanced at him. "Still want to do this?"

Felix nodded once, eyes burning with quiet fire. "Always."

As they descended into the coliseum, the full scope of the trial came into view. The arena was vast, its walls towering above them. The seats were filled with forest beings and people from the Kingdom, all murmuring in anticipation. Torches burned blue, casting flickering shadows over the sand-covered floor.

A massive iron cage stood in the center. From inside came a growl so low it rattled their bones.

"This is a battle of endurance and trust," the king announced from above. "This time, you may use your wings. You may also choose your weapons. But remember this: only one of you may deliver the final blow."

Felix stepped forward. "Celestial spear."

A burst of golden light filled his hand as his weapon appeared—sleek, balanced, its blade glowing faintly with holy energy.

Chan took a slow breath, then raised his hand. "Shadow Recurve Bow. Arrows of the Abyss."

From the air itself, a long black bow shimmered into being—made of bone and obsidian, wrapped in veins of red energy. A quiver of matching arrows appeared on his back, each one whispering softly like a curse.

The crowd grew louder.

The king raised a hand. "Begin."

The cage groaned open. The Maw-Troll burst forth like a storm. Its roar shattered the air. Its first step sent tremors through the ground. Towering above them, its skin was a thick armor of jagged stone, its face half-covered in a bone-like mask. It sniffed the air, then roared again, lunging.

Felix and Chan took to the sky instantly.

Their wings exploded open—Felix’s glowing with ethereal gold light, and Chan’s spreading like twin blades of shadow. The air whipped around them as they soared upward, just in time to avoid a thunderous sweep from the troll’s massive arm. The Maw-Troll had already burst free of its cage, its roar shaking the arena to its very foundations. Twelve meters of snarling, hate-filled muscle and armor, the beast looked like a living mountain of gnarled stone and twisted sinew.

Its eyes, glowing with a sickly green light, locked on them like prey.

Felix shot forward in a flash of light, spear drawn, trying to distract the creature. Chan climbed higher, wings slicing through the air like knives as he readied an arrow already laced with death.

The troll roared and lunged, grabbing a chunk of the arena floor and hurling it like a meteor toward Chan. The rock exploded mid-air—Chan's wings tucked and he spun, narrowly evading impact. Shards cut through the air, one grazing his shoulder and tearing through fabric and skin.

"Watch it!" Felix shouted, launching toward the troll's face. His spear slashed across its cheek, a golden arc of power searing flesh. The troll howled in pain and backhanded Felix from the sky like a rag doll. Felix slammed into the stone wall of the arena, coughing up blood.

"Felix!" Chan yelled, diving after him, but the troll charged again.

Felix gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, blood trickling from his forehead. He couldn’t think about the pain. He only thought: Chan…

Chan was already repositioning in the sky, the bow shimmering in his hands, his arrows whispering with the magic of the abyss. He drew one—infused with the shadow of death—and aimed it right at the troll’s spine. The arrow flew, burying itself deep and erupting with dark flames. The troll screamed, spinning wildly, swiping at the air, blood pouring from its back.

But it didn’t fall. The beast rushed forward and leapt. Its hand closed around Felix.

"NO!" Chan screamed, diving like a hawk.

Inside the troll’s grip, Felix struggled to breathe. Bones cracked under the pressure. He could hear the distant sound of Chan’s voice, of wind whistling around his ears, and the grotesque heartbeat of the creature holding him. But he didn’t panic. His only thought: Chan. Please, be okay. Don’t get hurt.

And then— A burst of shadow crashed into the troll’s arm. Chan, wings outstretched, had fired an arrow point-blank. The impact loosened the grip enough for Felix to jam his spear into the troll’s thumb. With a crack, the troll roared in agony and dropped him. Felix fell, wings trailing smoke.

Chan caught him mid-air, grunting as Felix’s weight slammed into him. They tumbled through the sky, spinning until they hit the sand hard. Chan’s arm wrapped protectively around Felix's head, shielding it from the impact. They lay there for a moment, chests heaving.

"You okay?" Chan whispered, his voice hoarse.

Felix coughed. "You came for me."

"Of course I did," Chan growled, eyes wide, scanning Felix’s body. Blood ran from several wounds. "You’re all that matters."

But before Felix could answer, the ground began to tremble again. The troll was not done.

With rage that cracked the sky, it charged. Its skin was peeling, bleeding, but its fury only grew. It slammed a foot into the sand near them, sending shockwaves that knocked both boys off their feet again. Felix’s spear rolled several meters away. Chan clutched his bow.

They couldn’t fly. Not yet.

"Felix—stay down!" Chan shouted, notching two arrows this time.

He fired both at once. One struck the troll’s neck; the other, its shoulder. The troll stumbled—then roared, foaming at the mouth.

It lunged for Chan.

Felix saw it happen in slow motion. The beast’s claws reached out, ready to crush Chan into paste.

"NO!" Felix screamed, pushing himself with everything he had left.

He flew forward, ignoring the screaming pain in his wings and ribs, grabbed his spear, and in one explosive motion hurled it like lightning into the troll’s chest. The spear pierced deep—up to the hilt.

The troll shrieked and fell to one knee as Felix's spear fell back to the ground.

"NOW, CHAN!"

Chan was already in the air, another arrow drawn—this one longer, darker, carved from bone itself. He aimed. His hands shook. His eyes flicked to Felix, who looked up at him with bloodied lips, smiling. Chan's heart nearly stopped.

Everything faded—crowds, kings, sand, pain—until there was only that angel with blue eyes shining like stars in a world of ruin. He mattered. More than revenge. More than winning.

Chan let the arrow fly.

At that exact instant, Felix’s body surged forward with everything he had left. His muscles screamed, his ribs ached, but he gritted his teeth, raised his arm, and hurled his celestial spear with a cry that tore from the depths of his soul.

The two weapons—light and shadow—arced through the air like twin comets destined to collide with fate.

Chan’s arrow, dark as the void, struck first. It pierced through the exposed flesh beneath the troll’s jaw, shattering bone and burrowing deep into the beast’s skull. A pulse of black energy exploded outward, cracking the troll’s neck open with a sickening snap.

Felix’s spear followed in a streak of golden brilliance, embedding itself directly into the troll’s heart. The light flared, then pulsed violently—an eruption of raw celestial force that sent a shockwave through the creature’s titanic body.

The Maw-Troll let out one final, guttural, earsplitting roar—its eyes wide with a mix of fury and agony—as the dual forces of the angel and demon tore through it from within.

Then the beast collapsed.

Its fall was a slow, seismic surrender. The ground trembled beneath the titanic weight as the troll crashed to the arena floor like a falling mountain. The earth cracked beneath it. Sand rose in clouds. A groan escaped the crowd, followed by silence.

Chan and Felix, their wings tattered, spiraled downward—no longer flying but falling. They hit the ground hard, just a few meters from the troll’s lifeless body, coughing, panting, groaning from the weight of their wounds and the adrenaline crash.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Just the rise and fall of their chests. Just the burning in their lungs. Just the fact that they were still alive. Chan turned his head slightly, his breathing ragged, and found Felix’s gaze. Dirt and blood stained both their faces, but the look they shared was pure, quiet relief.

They’d done it. Together. Felix pushed himself up slowly, every movement a struggle, every breath a war. His eyes were only on Chan. He staggered toward him, determination burning through exhaustion.

But then— Chan’s eyes widened. Something moved.

"Felix!!" Chan screamed, his voice raw and desperate.

Felix froze for half a second—but it was too late. Behind him, the troll’s crushed body twitched. Its massive arm, in one final death spasm, surged upward—its hand, gnarled and rocky, came crashing down toward Felix with unstoppable force.

Chan moved on instinct. On love. On terror. He launched himself across the sand, wings flaring as he slammed into Felix with everything he had. The momentum threw Felix away from the impact point just in time.

Chan didn’t stop moving—he twisted in the air as he fell, nocking a final arrow mid-dive and loosing it directly into the troll’s skull. The arrow struck deep between the creature’s eyes. This time, the beast didn’t move again.

But its final blow had already landed. The troll’s massive fist smashed into the arena floor where Chan had been. Right on top of his wings. The crack of bones echoed. Dust billowed. A pained, broken silence followed.

Felix hit the ground hard, rolling in the sand. Dizzy. Gasping. He struggled to his knees, still dazed, looking for Chan.

“...Chan?” His voice trembled.

There was no answer. His heart dropped into a pit of ice. He stumbled to his feet, staggering toward the place where Chan had been. And there—half-buried beneath the troll’s enormous rocky fist—were the mangled remains of Chan’s wings. Once powerful and sleek, now twisted, bloodied, broken.

Felix fell to his knees beside him.

“No… no no no no,” he whispered, voice cracking.

Chan’s body was crumpled beneath the debris, motionless. Blood soaked the sand beneath him. Felix straddled him.

“Chan! Please—say something!” Felix choked, shaking his shoulder gently. His fingers trembled as he tried to move the heavy rubble. “Don’t do this… don’t you dare do this to me.”

He dropped his forehead against Chan’s chest, sobbing. “You saved me. Why—why would you do that? Why didn’t you just let me die?”

There was no reply.

“Please wake up…” Felix begged, his voice broken, his hands cupping Chan’s face. “Please… I need you. I have so much to tell you.”

Tears streamed freely now, dripping down his cheeks onto Chan’s bloodstained skin.

“That kiss… that kiss we shared,” he whispered. “It wasn’t just a moment for me. It was a dream I didn’t think I could ever have… I need to tell you everything… I need to tell you my feelings.… Please wake up!!!”

His voice faltered.

“Chan… I lov—”

Just as he was about to say it, a slow clap echoed through the arena. The king stepped forward, descending the steps, his cold gaze sweeping over the destruction. His smile was as sharp as a dagger.

“Magnificent…” he said, voice low and reverent. “You survived the forest. You survived the troll. You proved something no other pair has ever done—angel and demon, side by side. True harmony.”

Felix turned to him, rage and agony contorting his tear streaked face.

“Prince of Underworld is hurt!” he shouted. “He might be dead! Help him!”

The king merely lifted a hand, and several robed figures—healers—rushed forward.

“The medics will tend to him,” the king said flatly. “You have done your part, young angel. The trial is over. You may now rest… You will know the results soon,”

Felix shook his head, unwilling to let go, but his body was already giving out. His muscles buckled beneath him. His vision blurred.

Suddenly, arms were around him. Hyunjin. Jisung. I.N. They caught him as he collapsed, their voices full of warmth, panic, love.

“It’s over,” Hyunjin whispered, brushing the hair from Felix’s face. “You did it.”

“You’re safe now,” I.N. murmured, holding him close.

Jisung squeezed his hand. “He’s going to be okay. He has to be.”

But Felix barely heard them.

His eyes, dimming, remained locked on Chan’s still form. On Minho, Seungmin, and Changbin falling to their knees beside him, screaming for him to wake up.

“Stay with us, your highness!” Seungmin begged.

“Don’t you dare die!” Changbin sobbed.

“Chan, please…” Minho’s voice cracked. “Please come back.”

Felix reached one final trembling hand toward him. A single tear rolled down his cheek. His head felt heavy, like he was dizzy. And then— Darkness.

____________________________________

Pain. That was the first thing Felix felt. It wrapped around his body like a second skin, deep and all-consuming. His head throbbed, his chest burned, and even breathing felt like sandpaper dragging across raw nerves. He groaned softly.

“Ugh… what happened...?”

His eyes fluttered open slowly. Light streamed in through tall windows, softened by sheer curtains. The room was unfamiliar, but warm. And suddenly, faces appeared—blurry at first, then coming into focus.

“Felix!”

Before he could process anything, Jisung launched himself forward and wrapped his arms tightly around him, sobbing into his neck.

“I can’t believe it! You’re okay! You’re actually okay!”

Felix grunted, the impact sending a new wave of pain through his ribs. “Han… bones. Cracking…”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and gently pulled Jisung back. “Give him space, you overgrown puppy. He just woke up from almost dying. Let him breathe.”

I.N. leaned in with concern, brows furrowed. “How do you feel?”

Felix pushed himself up slowly, wincing with every movement. He sat against the headboard, breathing heavily.

“I feel like… even my eyelashes hurt,” he muttered.

The room burst into laughter.

Jisung wiped his nose on his sleeve, still sniffling. “Only you would say something like that after what you’ve been through.”

Felix gave a weak but genuine smile. “But I’m okay,” he whispered.

Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit him. Chan. The last memory hit him hard: Chan’s body beneath the troll’s hand. The crushed wings. The blood. The silence. His breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded.

He looked at his friends, wide-eyed. “Chan…?” he asked, voice shaking. “Is he…?”

He couldn’t finish the question. Hyunjin’s expression softened. He stepped forward and gently brushed Felix’s hair out of his eyes.

“He’s alive,” he said softly. “This morning I passed by the infirmary. Changbin was in there with him. I heard Chan making some dumb joke, teasing the healers… I think he is in his room now.”

Felix’s heart slammed in his chest. Relief washed over him in a rush so powerful it made him dizzy. He closed his eyes for a second, swallowing thickly. Thank you. To every god in heaven, every star, every force in the universe. If Chan had died saving him, he would’ve never forgiven himself.

“I need to see him,” Felix said suddenly, his voice trembling with urgency.

The others looked at each other, brows raising slightly.

“Whoa, slow down,” Jisung said. “What’s with the sudden desperation?”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes. “Yeah… something happened, didn’t it? In the forest. During those three days. You two…”

I.N. tilted his head. “Something to tell us…?”

Felix turned red, then huffed. “I’ll tell you later. I promise. But I need to see him now. I need to thank him—for saving my life.”

The boys exchanged looks, curious and amused but ultimately understanding.

“Alright,” said Hyunjin with a shrug. “Let’s get you dressed.”

With their help, Felix changed out of the infirmary robes and into something simple and soft—still aching but fueled by something far more powerful than pain. Gratitude. Fear. Longing. And something else. Love.

He walked through the palace corridors until he reached the northern wing—where the injured were being kept. He stopped in front of a large oak door and took a breath. He raised a hand and knocked. The door creaked open, and Minho stepped out.

Felix hesitated. “Can I… is he asleep? I just want to see him—”

Minho’s eyes burned.

“Why are you even here?” he snapped. “He’s like this because of you. He threw himself in front of that troll to save your angelic ass. Now look at his wings." His voice cracked slightly. "They're ruined. Maybe forever.”

Felix’s throat tightened, guilt crawling into every corner of him. He looked down, shame in his eyes. From inside the room, Chan’s voice rang out.

"Let the butterfly in! And everyone else OUT. Now."

Minho turned to look back. “No.”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“Who’s the prince here?”

Minho grumbled. “You are, unfortunately.”

Before the argument could continue, Changbin stepped forward, grabbed Seungmin and Minho by the arms, and dragged them away.

“Out, both of you. Orders are orders. He doesn’t want us here.”

The door was left ajar. Felix stepped inside. Chan was lying in bed, bandaged heavily. His black wings were out, partially wrapped, stretched along the sides of the bed—damaged, but still whole. And he was smiling. Of course he was. That stupid, ridiculous, beautiful smile with those damn dimples. Even now, bruised and broken, Chan looked at him like the world was fine. Like he hadn’t almost died. Like his wings weren’t ruined.

Felix melted inside. He closed the door gently behind him. Chan tilted his head, grin widening.

"Well, well, look what the gods dragged in. My favorite celestial snack."

Felix blinked back tears and laughed through a sniffle. That voice. That teasing tone. That life. He was here. Alive. He was okay. Felix stepped forward, heart in his throat.

Felix blinked, trying not to laugh. "You're impossible."

"But hot," Chan replied, smirking. "Don’t forget hot."

"And delusional," Felix added, walking closer.

"Yet you're walking toward me, not away. So who's really the delusional one here?"

Felix rolled his eyes and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. His gaze softened as he looked at Chan—really looked at him. Bruises across his chest. Cuts healing slowly on his arms. His wings... crumpled but still there. Still beautiful.

"I came to thank you," Felix said, voice low.

Chan raised an eyebrow. "Thank me? For what? Ruining my back?"

Felix shook his head. "For saving my life. You didn’t hesitate. You just... threw yourself at me."

"I saw the troll move," Chan said simply. "Didn’t think. Just reacted."

"You could’ve died."

Chan tilted his head. "So could you."

Felix looked down at his hands. "Still. You didn’t have to..."

"You saved me too, angel boy," Chan interrupted, his voice growing soft. "Back in the lake. With the venomflies. We keep saving each other, don’t we? Maybe it’s our thing now."

Felix chuckled, shaking his head.

Chan grinned. "Although if you keep ending up on top of me every time we fight a monster, I might start scheduling more of those."

Felix snorted. "You liked that? You were unconscious."

"Doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the view," Chan quipped, eyes dark with mischief. "And the feel of you pressed against me? Pretty sure that was the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know."

Felix flushed, a soft pink rising to his cheeks. "You’re insufferable."

"But you’re still here," Chan said again, softer this time. "And I missed you last night."

Felix blinked. "What?"

Chan looked away for a moment. "It was the first night we didn’t sleep near each other. I got used to it. To you. To your warmth. To your little sighs and moans saying my name when you sleep."

Felix’s heart tripped over itself. “Shut up, little devil!!!.”

"I’m serious." Chan looked at him again, eyes raw, unguarded. "I couldn’t sleep. It was cold."

"You’re a demon. You don’t get cold."

Chan grinned. "Didn’t say I meant physically."

Felix stared at him, stunned.

Chan reached out slowly, his fingers brushing lightly against Felix's wrist. "And what about you? Did you miss me?"

Felix hesitated. Then smiled. "You talk so much I think my ears enjoyed the silence."

"Ouch."

"But..." Felix looked down at their joined hands, fingers now intertwined. "Yeah. I missed you too… although I was unconscious all night.”

Chan squeezed his hand. "You know, when I woke up and didn’t see you, I thought I was in a nightmare. That maybe you didn’t make it."

Felix swallowed. "I thought the same about you. When I saw your wings yesterday... I thought I’d lost you."

Chan's smile faded. His thumb brushed over the back of Felix's hand gently.

"You didn’t. I’m here."

Silence hung between them, heavy with things neither dared say aloud.

Then Chan cleared his throat. "You know, with how soft your hands are, I bet you'd be amazing at rubbing lotion on demon wings. Want to give it a try?"

Felix rolled his eyes, but his grin gave him away. "You can barely move."

"That means you'd have to get real close," Chan said, voice lower. "Climb right onto the bed. Straddle me maybe. Get in deep with the pressure…. Oh god! I’m getting hard…”

Felix let out a soft laugh. "You’re incorrigible."

"And yet, you’re still blushing."

"Am not."

Chan tilted his head. "Lixie. Your ears are glowing."

Felix threw a pillow at him.

Chan caught it with a grin. "Okay, okay. I’ll stop."

A beat.

"Unless you want me to keep going. Because I’ve got a whole list of fantasies from those three nights in the forest. And trust me, I had to keep a lot of them quiet while we were spooning."

Felix nearly choked on air. “CHAN!!.”

"What? I’m injured, I deserve to be entertained."

"You are too entertained."

"Not yet," Chan said, his voice dark and velvet-smooth. "But maybe tonight, if you come back to my bed..."

Felix laughed again, this time unable to stop the smile from taking over his face. There was something about being with Chan that made everything feel alive. Electric. Like a storm was dancing under his skin.

Chan looked at him then, really looked, and the teasing melted away. "You okay?"

Felix nodded slowly. "Yeah. Everything aches. But I’m okay."

Chan leaned in, his head resting gently on Felix’s shoulder. His breath was warm on Felix’s neck. They sat in silence, their fingers still tangled. Their hearts beat too fast. Too loud. Felix turned his head, barely an inch. Chan was already watching him. Neither moved.

Felix’s hand moved on instinct, fingers brushing along Chan’s cheek. He let them linger, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength beneath the softness. Then slowly, his thumb traced the curve of Chan’s bottom lip. Chan’s eyes darkened. He looked at Felix’s lips. Then up again, into his beautiful blue eyes. The tension between them sparked—hot, trembling.

Felix leaned in. Slowly. Carefully. Their lips met. It was careful at first—uncertain. Warm. Slow. Chan’s body stilled, then melted under the kiss. He reached up, his fingers brushing against Felix’s jaw as their mouths moved in sync. The kiss deepened, growing in heat and hunger but never rushing. Their lips parted, allowing their tongues to meet—tasting, exploring, sighing into each other.

Felix’s hand slid into Chan’s curls, holding him there, kissing him like he’d been waiting forever. And maybe he had. Chan’s hand curled around Felix’s waist, pulling him a little closer, deepening the kiss with a low hum of satisfaction. They moved together like gravity had been waiting for them to find each other. Slow. Lingering. Everything. They sighed into each other, breath mingling, the kiss stretching out like it never wanted to end. Felix felt everything in that kiss. The fear. The hope. The longing. And the love. He couldn’t say it. But he could kiss it. And Chan kissed it back.

Chan’s soft chuckle lingered in the air after their kiss broke, the closeness between them suddenly buzzing with a deeper, quieter energy. Their foreheads rested together, both breathing fast and hard, hearts pounding as if trying to leap into one another’s chests.

Felix’s fingers stayed on Chan’s face, brushing the spot where their lips had just been. He was speechless for a moment, drinking in the quiet awe in Chan’s dark eyes.

"What... what was that for?" Chan finally whispered, voice husky.

Felix smiled softly. "The first day of the competition, I promised you a kiss when it was over."

Chan blinked.

"And the Prince of the Heaven always keeps his promises.”

Then he grinned. That beautiful, dazzling smile with his dimples and all.

“Well then,” he murmured, “you’d better keep making promises.”

They didn’t say the word. Not yet. But it was there. Burning between every touch. Waiting.

Chan’s lips curled into the softest smile Felix had ever seen. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, “that kiss might’ve just healed most of me already.”

Felix laughed gently, brushing his thumb across Chan’s cheek again. “Then I guess I should kiss you more often.”

Chan leaned back on the pillows with a groan, half from the ache in his body, half from sheer dramatics. “As tempting as that is,” he said, “I actually need your help now. And I’m being serious this time.”

Felix raised a brow, still a little dazed. “You? Serious?”

“I know, shocking.” Chan chuckled. “But really. There’s a healing cream—magic stuff. The physicians left it behind, but they were too scared to touch my wings. Said something about sacred demon anatomy or whatever.”

Felix blinked. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Help me put it on. The wings, I mean. It’s supposed to seep into the bone and help with regeneration.”

“Of course,” Felix said without hesitation.

Chan smirked. “Good. Because I need to strip the bandages off first. You know. Make it a proper private striptease. For your royal eyes only.”

Felix raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Hmm, maybe you should call Minho, Changbin or Seungmin for that. They might enjoy the show more than me. Maybe even help rub that cream into your muscular demon body."

He bit his lip playfully.

Chan narrowed his eyes, mock-offended. “They? Hell no. This striptease is reserved exclusively for you. I want you, sunshine.”

Felix chuckled, heart skipping a beat at the intensity in Chan’s voice. He moved closer, sitting beside him on the bed. “Alright, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Careful, angel,” Chan teased, peeling off the first bandage slowly, dramatically, like he was on a stage. “I might be too hot to handle.”

“Please, I’ve survived sirens, venomflies and trolls. I think I can handle a shirtless demon.”

“We’ll see,” Chan grinned. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

One by one, the bandages came off, and with each layer gone, the devastation beneath was revealed. Chan’s once-magnificent black wings were broken, twisted at unnatural angles, feathers shredded and bones cracked.

Felix’s breath caught. He covered his mouth, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh, gods… I’m so sorry.”

Chan watched him silently. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is. You did this to save me. If you hadn’t jumped in front—”

“It was the troll’s fault. And I’d do it again. A thousand times.”

Felix’s throat closed, emotion rising. He reached out, trembling, and touched a shattered bone with trembling fingers. And that’s when it happened.

The moment his skin touched the broken wing, something magical happened. A glow—soft and golden—spread from Felix’s palm like liquid light. It crawled over the break in the bone, washing over it in a shimmering wave. And right before their eyes, the fracture closed. The wing straightened. The feathers shimmered and realigned, as if nothing had ever touched them. Chan stared.

“Holy—”

Felix’s mouth was hanging open in stunned silence. “Did… did I just…?”

“You healed me,” Chan whispered, his voice filled with awe. “You have healing magic. And you didn’t tell me, firefly?”

“I.. I didn’t know,” Felix said quickly, breath shallow. “That’s the first time anything like that’s ever happened. I swear.”

“Touch the other one.”

Felix nodded and reached for the other broken wing. As soon as his fingers grazed the fracture, the same golden aura spilled out of his hand, flowing into the shattered limb. It lit up Chan’s skin like starlight, mending each bone, each feather with impossible precision.

Chan sat up straighter, stretching his newly restored wings. “They’re perfect.”

Felix blinked rapidly, overwhelmed. “I’ve never… I didn’t know I had that kind of power.”

Chan’s eyes glimmered with awe. “You healed a demon. That’s more than rare. That’s unheard of.”

Felix was still reeling. “Let me try the rest.”

He reached out for Chan’s thigh, where the venomfly wound had festered. As soon as he touched it, the wound vanished. He worked his way up, healing every scratch, every bruise.

He hesitated at Chan’s abdomen. “Can I?”

Chan grinned. “You want to touch my abs, angel? Don’t pretend it’s just for healing.”

Felix let out a laugh, cheeks warm. “Shut up.”

“Oh, please,” Chan purred. “You’ve been eyeing these since the forest. Now’s your chance.”

Felix rolled his eyes, placing his hands on Chan’s toned stomach. The deep gashes disappeared, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin.

Chan let out a low groan. “Gods, your hands feel amazing. I might fake an injury just to get you to touch me like that again.”

Felix laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love it, butterfly with freckles.” Chan’s smile faltered for a moment. There was something in his eyes—something raw and real. 

He reached out, brushing Felix’s hair from his face.

Chan stretched his torso and he was shocked. “No seriously, I feel… like I could run a marathon. Or climb a mountain. Or pin you against this bed and—”

“Chan!” Felix groaned, burying his face in his hands, laughing.

Chan winked. “I’m just saying. You make me feel invincible.”

“Let me try on myself now,” Felix said suddenly, needing to shift the moment.

He touched a small cut on his arm. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing.

“I can’t… I can’t heal myself,” he whispered.

He touched his own head… but nothing.

“I don’t get it,” he whispered. “It doesn’t work on me.”

Chan looked at him, quiet for a moment. “You can heal others… but not yourself?”

Felix nodded slowly.

“Well,” Chan said, shifting so he could sit closer. “That just means you need someone to take care of you. Lucky for you, I’m great at care-taking. Terrible bedside manner. Excellent spooning technique.”

Felix gave him a look, but it was impossible not to laugh.

“You’re unbelievable,” Felix murmured.

“I’ve been told.”

Chan leaned in again, his smile softening. “But seriously… If you can’t heal yourself, I’ll do it for you. I’ll protect you. I’ll stay by your side until you’re 100% again. No matter how long it takes”. Chan’s voice was steady “And… thank you. I don’t even know how to thank you. You healed me”.

Felix looked at him, heart aching, full of too many feelings he couldn’t say yet. Neither of them spoke the words. Not yet. But in the quiet, in the touch of hands and the heat between them, the words lived anyway.

Chapter Text

Felix and Chan couldn’t stop looking at each other. They sat close on the bed, knees brushing, breaths mingling in the space between them. The soft hum of magic still lingered around them like dust after a storm. Their gazes kept drifting—from eyes to lips, from lips to eyes—like magnets pulled by an invisible thread. Every heartbeat brought them closer. A breath away from another kiss.

And then—The door flew open.

All six of their friends stumbled into the room at once—Changbin, Minho, Seungmin, I.N., Hyunjin, and Jisung. Their eyes scanned the room with panic, weapons half drawn and expressions full of dread.

“Step away from the body!” Changbin shouted.

“Did you kill him?” Jisung growled, pointing at Felix. “out of revenge for what happened to you?”

“Or did he kill you?” Seungmin asked sharply, addressing Chan.“Taking advantage of him while he couldn’t move?”

Felix blinked, frozen in place with his hand still hovering near Chan’s freshly healed abdomen. Chan just leaned his head back and started laughing. Felix followed, eyes wide with disbelief, then amused delight.

“We’re fine,” Felix said between chuckles. “Nobody killed anybody.”

Minho stepped further in, eyes narrowing when they landed on Chan. His wings. They were exposed, stretched slightly behind him, fully intact—perfect, strong, without a single injury. Not even a bruise.

“Wait a second…” Minho said, stepping closer. “Your wings… they were shattered.”

Everyone turned to look. Jaws dropped.

“I know,” Chan said. “Something weird happened. When Felix touched me… everything just healed.”

Silence blanketed the room.

“Wait, what?” Seungmin blinked.

“Felix healed you?” Jisung asked, stepping closer.

“Since when do you have healing magic?” Hyunjin demanded.

“I didn’t know I did,” Felix replied. “But it’s not real healing. I can’t heal myself. Only others.”

I.N. went completely still, his expression falling into something pale and unreadable.

Hyunjin didn’t hesitate. He pulled a dagger from his boot and sliced a shallow cut along his finger. “Let’s test that.”

Felix touched the bleeding finger gently. Nothing happened. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow.

“Still bleeding,” Hyunjin said flatly.

Changbin grinned wickedly.“Well, if you want, I could put that finger somewhere else and make it feel real good… I can put it in my mouth and…,” Changbin chimed in, wagging his eyebrows.

Felix gagged. “Gross. Seriously?”

“Oh, come on, angel,” Changbin teased. “Just because you’ve got the power of healing hands doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t enjoy some tongue magic.”

Chan burst out laughing, covering his mouth.

Felix glared at him. “Don’t encourage him.”

“I’m not encouraging anyone,” Chan said, eyes gleaming. “I’m just loving the show.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and slid the finger into his own mouth to clean the blood. He let it linger just a little too long.

Changbin looked betrayed. “I could’ve done that for you!”

“I don’t trust your mouth,” Hyunjin said coolly.

“I could give you so many reasons to,” Changbin whispered, biting his lip.

Felix groaned. “Seriously, do all demons flirt and tease like this, or is it just you four?”

“Pretty sure it’s just them,” Jisung chimed in. “The elite degenerates.”

“Well,” Seungmin added dryly, “maybe the healing only works on demons. Try Minho.”

Everyone turned.

“Okay,” Minho said, hands up. “Why do I feel like I’m being volunteered as tribute?”

Jisung stepped forward, grabbing Minho’s wrist. “Because you are. If you cut yourself, I promise to give you a kiss.”

Minho blinked. “Wait. You’re serious?”

Jisung nodded. “Completely.”

Minho grinned wide. “For that angelic mouth, I’d make a blood sacrifice to the moon.”

Felix gagged. “Unbelievable .”

Minho grinned, took the dagger, and sliced a shallow line across his bicep. Felix stepped forward and touched it. Nothing.

Felix pulled back, frustrated. “It’s not working.”

Then, before anyone else could speak, Chan grabbed the dagger from Minho.

“Chan, no—” Felix began, but Chan had already cut across the soft skin of his inner wrist.

Blood welled instantly. Felix reached out and touched it. As soon as his fingers touched the wound, a golden light flared and the injury vanished instantly. Everyone gasped again.

“Why only Chan?” Seungmin asked.

Hyunjin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s got to be a royal thing. They’re both princes. Maybe that’s the key.”

“They’re bonded,” Jisung said with a smirk.

Felix flushed. “Shut up.”

Chan shrugged. “Don’t mind them. They’re just jealous.”

I.N. finally stepped forward, his voice softer. “Felix. You said you can’t heal yourself, right?”

“Correct.”

“What if… what if Chan touches you while you try?”

Felix tilted his head. “You think that matters?”

“Maybe,” I.N. said. “Just try. See what happens.”

Without hesitation, Chan reached over and took Felix’s hand. Felix shivered. The warmth of Chan’s skin against his own lit something in his chest. Something familiar. Something ancient. With Chan’s hand wrapped around his, Felix reached for a gash on his thigh. It disappeared the moment he touched it. Cheers erupted in the room.

“No way!” Jisung shouted.

“You’re like a magical duo,” Changbin said.

“Or maybe just magical lovers,” Minho teased.

Felix was too distracted by healing himself to reply. With Chan’s touch steady, he erased wound after wound. Every scrape. Every bruise.

When he reached his thigh, Chan smirked. “You gonna touch yourself there too, angel? Should I tell everybody to leave the room?”

“Pervert,” Felix muttered.

“Just saying. The moans better be from healing, or I’m going to get jealous.”

“You don’t get to be jealous, Chan…,” Felix snapped, flushing.

“Oh, but I do,” Chan replied, lips brushing against Felix’s ear. “I like the way you say my name when you’re flustered.”

Changbin howled. “Okay, damn. Get a room—you really need to fuck.”

Felix turned to Minho, newly emboldened. “Let’s try again. This time with Chan’s hand over mine.”

I.N.’s head snapped up. “It’s not going to work.”

Everyone looked at him.

“How do you know?” Felix asked.

I.N. blinked nervously. “I don’t. Just a gut feeling.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “You knew earlier too.”

I.N. said nothing. Felix ignored him and pressed his fingers over Minho’s arm with Chan’s hand covering his. Still nothing. The cut remained.

I.N. exhaled sharply. “I knew it,” he said under his breath.

Felix turned, eyes narrowing. “How do you really know?”

“I just… guessed.”

Liar. Felix looked at him, eyebrows narrowing. He knew I.N. was lying. He didn’t say it aloud, but the suspicion burned in his eyes. Something about this healing power—about its connection to Chan—was known to I.N. And he wasn’t ready to share it.

The moment was broken by Minho stepping forward and sighing dramatically. “Alright, now that we’ve seen this magical mystery—” he turned to Jisung, “—can I get that kiss you promised?”

Jisung grinned. “A deal’s a deal.”

With all eyes on them, Jisung reached up and cupped Minho’s face with both hands. Then, without hesitation, he kissed him. It started sweet—soft lips, tentative pressure. Then Minho’s hands found Jisung’s waist and pulled him closer. The kiss deepened. Tongues met. The air thickened. Moans. Wet lips sounding as they rub against each other.

“Oh my god,” Felix squealed. “I don’t want to see that!”

“Want me to distract you?” Chan whispered, brushing his lips near Felix’s neck. “I’ve got a few ideas. Involve you, me, and a lack of clothes.”

Felix smacked his arm. “Control yourself, demon.”

“I am controlling myself. Butterfly.”

“Honestly,” Seungmin muttered, “this is why we don’t take you people anywhere.”

Hyunjin nodded. “Too many hormones. Not enough self-control.”

“Speak for yourself, angel…,” Changbin said, winking.

“Yeah, keep winking and I’ll punch your other eye,” Hyunjin replied with a smile and gesturing for Changbin to be quiet with his finger on his lips.

Chan leaned in and whispered, “Jealous of them? I can give you a show later. Just you and me. Lots of touching.”

Felix groaned. “You need help.”

“I need you, preferably naked.”

Felix shoved him playfully. Everyone else laughed, the tension of the earlier shock melting into something warmer, more chaotic. But underneath all of it, between Felix and Chan, a silent truth pulsed in every glance and every shared smile. There was something different now. Magic. A secret. Fate….

And I.N. knew more than he was saying.

_______________________________

The angels finally decided it was time to leave, casting one last set of suspicious glances between Felix and Chan. Jisung gave Minho a lingering look, but eventually let go of his hand. I.N. avoided Felix's gaze entirely. And just like that, they were gone. The room fell into a charged silence.

Only four remained—Chan, Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin. A second passed. Then Minho shoved Chan hard, sending him tumbling backward onto the bed.

“Alright, bastard,” Minho growled. “Start talking. What the hell happened with Felix in the forest during the trials?”

Chan sighed, rubbing the back of his head where he'd landed. “I'm screwed.”

“No shit,” Seungmin snapped.

Chan sat up and looked at them with a guilty smile. “I kissed him… after calling me out for having a heart that doesn’t belong in the Underworld.”

All three of them shouted at once: “WHAT?!”

“You kissed him?” Minho gaped.

Changbin pointed an accusatory finger. “I can’t believe you ate that sugar-sweet cupcake.”

Chan smirked. “Oh, don’t play offended. You literally ate Hyunjin. I heard the walls shake. And I know you let him sleep in your bed, too.”

Minho and Seungmin screamed in unison: “YOU DID WHAT?!”

Minho turned to Changbin with narrowed eyes. “You lucky bastard! You got to taste the forbidden frosting.”

Seungmin groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “This is bullshit. Changbin slept with Hyunjin, Minho just sucked Jisung’s soul out with that kiss, and Chan kissed Felix. Why am I the only one who hasn’t had a taste of I.N.'s heavenly lips?!”

Chan chuckled darkly. “Well… I didn’t just kiss Felix.”

All three: “NO. WAY.”

“We slept together.”

“WHAT?! HAVE YOU FUCKED HIM?”

Chan raised his hands. “Not like that! Damn, I wish it was that. But no. We just literally slept. It was freezing in the forest, and the little butterfly couldn’t survive the cold unless I was wrapped around him like a furnace.”

They were quiet for a moment. And then the filthy commentary exploded:

“I’d keep I.N. warm with something a lot thicker than a blanket,” Seungmin said, completely deadpan.

Minho snorted. “Jisung can keep moaning like today and I’ll have him screaming my name for a whole damn week.”

Changbin leaned back with a dreamy smile. “Hyunjin has the kind of mouth that makes a demon want to confess sins he hasn’t even committed yet.”

“I’d let Felix ride me to heaven and back, I don’t care if I burst into holy flames,” Chan added.

“I’d risk excommunication just to bite those angel wings mid-orgasm,” Seungmin muttered.

“Forget wings, I want to see if halo burns when you pull a handful of hair and whisper their name,” said Changbin.

“Jisung’s too innocent to be real. That’s the kind of boy you corrupt slowly—until he begs,” Minho purred.

“Felix’s moans would sound like a prayer. And I’d worship every single one,” Chan whispered.

All three turned to stare at him.

“Okay, perv,” Changbin said with a raised brow.

Chan swallowed hard. “Actually… As I told you…I'm screwed… I have something to tell you guys. But you have to promise not to laugh… and this can't get out of here.”

Minho crossed his arms. “Spit it out already.”

Chan took a deep breath. “I think… after everything that’s happened… I’m having real feelings for Felix. I’m completely losing it for him.”

Silence. Changbin’s face remained unreadable because he had already talked about this with Chan before, eyes flicking to the others for their reaction. But Minho and Seungmin? They looked like he had just announced he planned to walk into Heaven with a sword and ask for a room.

“What the actual fuck, Chan?!” Minho exploded, stepping forward. “Are you out of your demonic mind?!”

“You’re joking,” Seungmin said, blinking hard. “Tell me you’re joking… You hit your head really hard... that's it, right?”

Chan didn’t answer. His gaze dropped to the floor.

Minho laughed bitterly, no humor in it. “So all that teasing? The flirting? The way you look at him like he’s sunlight made flesh? That’s real?!”

Chan nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“Oh, my god,” Seungmin hissed. “You’re not just being a horny bastard—you’re actually falling for him?! You want the damn angel?!”

Chan raised his eyes. “I don’t want to… But I do…. but you guys tease them too!”

“Yeah, as a joke!” Seungmin yelled.

“If it gets us some heavenly ass, sure,” Changbin muttered. “But that’s where it ends. I told you.”

“We don’t fall in love with them,” Seungmin said through clenched teeth. “We fuck and forget. That’s how this works.”

“Not plan wedding altars in the sky!” Minho added.

Chan’s face fell, his heart cracking under the weight of their fury.

Minho shoved a chair out of his way, pacing like a caged wolf. “Do you even realize what you’re saying? You’re the heir to the fucking Underworld. And you're telling us you’re in love with the Prince of Heaven?!”

“You’re not just risking your crown,” Seungmin snapped, “you’re risking your damn life.”

“I know,” Chan said quietly.

“No, you don’t,” Seungmin shouted. “You clearly don’t, Chan! This isn’t just about you catching feelings. This is suicidal! If anyone finds out, it’s not exile or disgrace—it’s execution. On sight.”

Minho ran a hand through his hair, fists clenched. “This isn’t a game. Angels and demons don’t fall in love. We destroy each other. That’s how it’s always been.”

“And you… you really want to build a life with him?” Seungmin spat, voice full of disbelief. “What are you thinking? Picnics on clouds? Holding hands while angels sing ballads around you? That’s not how this ends!”

“I’m not stupid,” Chan said, his voice raw now. “I know the risks.”

“Then stop acting like you’re in a fucking fairytale,” Minho growled. “This isn’t some star-crossed romance. It’s war. You think love survives that?”

“I don’t care,” Chan said, and his voice cracked with the weight of it. “I care about him.”

Seungmin stared at him for a long second, then scoffed. “You don’t get to care. Not like that. Not when it’ll get you killed. Not when it could tear everything we’ve built apart.”

Minho walked up to him, close now, face tight with anger. “You’re not just Chan. You’re the future king. And kings don’t get to fall in love with forbidden royalty. You don’t get Felix. You get duty. You get darkness. You get a husband or wife from hell. You get us.”

Chan’s throat tightened. “You think I haven’t told myself that a hundred times?”

“Clearly not hard enough!” Seungmin barked.

There was a painful silence. One where the air itself felt heavier.

Chan sat down slowly on the edge of his bed, shoulders sagging like all the strength had bled from him. His heart pounded, but it no longer felt alive—just bruised.

“I didn’t mean to feel this way,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to. I fought it. I really did.”

Minho looked away, jaw locked, chest rising and falling.

Seungmin was still staring at him with a mix of fear and fury. “This is going to get you killed, Chan. You know that, right?”

Chan didn’t respond.

“Seriously,” Seungmin continued. “Do you really think the Underworld Council—or the angels—are going to sit back while their golden prince gets tangled in demon hands? You touch him with real love, and they'll cut off yours.”

“Felix doesn’t even know how I feel,” Chan murmured.

“That doesn’t fucking matter,” Minho snapped. “Your heart knows. That’s enough to burn everything down.”

Chan’s voice came out almost in a whisper. “What if he feels the same?”

“Then he dies with you,” Seungmin said coldly. “Is that what you want? You want to take him down with you? Let his wings burn because you couldn’t control yourself?”

That hit hard. Chan flinched like he’d been punched. His breath caught in his chest. The idea—Felix dying because of him—was a nightmare that twisted in his gut.

“You’ve always been too soft… we all here know your heart problem…,” Minho said, but it wasn’t cruel—it was broken. “Too full of feelings for a demon. And now it’s gonna destroy you.”

“Wake up, Chan,” Seungmin said more gently, but no less firm. “We’re not saying this to be cruel. We’re saying it because we care. You fall in love with him, and this whole thing becomes a tragedy.”

Chan sat there in silence, feeling the weight of every word, every angry glare, every shattered truth thrown at his feet. And for the first time since he’d touched Felix’s hand and felt that golden warmth spread through his skin… His heart hurt. Truly, deeply hurt. Not because of rejection or fear. But because he knew they were right. And it still didn’t stop the love from growing.

_________________________________

The moonlight filtered gently through the high windows of the common hall, casting silver streaks across the marble floor. Felix sat on the edge of one of the long benches, nervously picking at the sleeve of his robe. His eyes were red—he wasn’t crying, but he had earlier. That much was obvious.

Jisung sat beside him, quiet and watchful. Jeongin paced nearby, and Hyunjin leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“You’ve been weird since you came back from the woods,” Jeongin said, not unkindly but firmly. “Something happened out there. You gonna tell us or keep playing the silent act?”

Felix shrugged, eyes on his knees. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on, Lix,” Hyunjin groaned. “You think we don’t notice when you go all ‘wistful maiden lost in a dream’? Spill.”

“I’m not—” Felix began, voice tight. “It’s not like that.”

Jisung placed a gentle hand on his back but said nothing. He already knew. He’d known for days.

Jeongin narrowed his eyes. “It’s about him, isn’t it?”

Felix stilled.

“Bang Chan,” Hyunjin said slowly. 

Silence. Felix didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Jeongin took a step forward. “Did he touch you?”

Felix blinked. “What? No— I mean—” He swallowed. “He… he kissed me.”

The room went dead silent.

Hyunjin pushed off the wall like he’d just been slapped. “He what?”

“He kissed me,” Felix repeated, cheeks flushing crimson, heart squeezing. “It was… it was my first kiss. And everything stopped. I swear, the world stopped spinning.”

Jeongin stood slowly, expression frozen. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Felix looked up. His eyes were watery, but clear. “I’m not.”

Hyunjin stared at him like he didn’t recognize him. “You let a demon kiss you?!”

“I didn’t let him,” Felix said, voice cracking. “I kissed him back.” Felix looked at Jisung. "He kissed Minho today."

"Yes, but he is not the damn prince of a kingdom whose greatest enemy is demons." I.N. said.

Jisung looked away, quietly biting his lip. Hyunjin looked at him. Hyunjin had done worse things with Changbin, but he couldn't say them out loud.

Felix shook his head, small and helpless. “It just… happened.”

“How?” Hyunjin snapped, pacing now. “How does a kiss with a demon just ‘happen’? You’re the prince of Heaven, Lix. You don’t trip and fall into a demon’s mouth.”

Jeongin’s voice was quiet but full of edge. “You gave your first kiss to the heir of the Underworld.”

Felix’s throat tightened. “I know.”

Hyunjin turned sharply. “Do you even realize what could happen if anyone—if anyone—finds out that you have feelings for a demon?”

Jeongin’s voice turned cold. “You think you’re gonna walk up to your father, the King of Heaven, and say, ‘Hey Father, meet my boyfriend’ and he’s just gonna smile and hand you a blessing?”

Felix’s stomach dropped.

“No,” Jeongin snapped. “He’ll kill you, Felix. He’ll slit your throat with his own sword if he thinks you’ve betrayed the heavens… it doesn’t matter if you are his own son.”

Felix’s breath caught. Tears welled up in his eyes. Jisung reached over, resting a hand on Felix’s shoulder again, grounding him.

“I’m in love with him.”

The room went silent again, this time heavier.

Hyunjin looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Felix…”

“Do you think love means anything to them?” Jeongin said sharply. “To demons? They don’t love, Felix. They conquer. They take and they ruin.”

“That’s not true,” Felix said weakly. “He’s not like that. Chan is—he’s different.”

“Of course he feels different,” Hyunjin spat. “That’s what makes him dangerous.”

Jeongin crossed his arms. “You think this ends with love and peace? It ends with fire, Felix. It ends with you burning.”

“I didn’t want to—,” Felix said, voice cracking. “…I tried to ignore it. But I can’t. I close my eyes and I see him. I hear his voice and I want to follow it anywhere. I—” he stopped, trembling, then went on, softer, “I would go to war. Alone. Against the entire Underworld. Just to kiss that beautiful face every morning.”

Jisung squeezed his shoulder gently, his expression unreadable.

Jeongin ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“No,” Felix said, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I’ve found something worth going mad for.”

Hyunjin knelt in front of him, grabbing both of Felix’s hands. “Lixie. Listen to me. You can’t love him. You can’t. Not because it’s wrong—dammit, I don’t even care about that anymore—but because it’s impossible. This ends one way. With you broken. Or dead.”

Felix’s lips quivered. “You don’t understand.”

Jeongin stepped in. “We understand too well. That’s why we’re terrified. You think he feels the same? You think this is something he’ll fight for?”

“I don’t know,” Felix whispered. “Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe it was just a kiss. But the way he looked at me… gods, the way he looked at me… It was like I was real. Like I wasn’t a prince or a soldier or anything that mattered. Just Felix.”

“Felix,” Hyunjin said quietly, “that look won’t protect you when the Council finds out. When the angels turn on you. When your own father raises a sword.”

“I know,” Felix said. “I know how this ends.”

And still—he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t let go of the way Chan’s fingers had brushed his cheek like he was something fragile and sacred. The way his voice dropped whenever he said his name. The way his entire being softened when Felix smiled. He was doomed. But he would fall again and again just to feel that look one more time.

Jisung finally stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Felix’s shoulder—but said nothing. He knew. He understood. But he stayed quiet. Felix sat there, crying, as the world around him suddenly felt colder, darker, and impossibly lonelier. And somewhere deep inside… his heart cracked wide open.

His friends stared at him, hearts heavy. They knew. This wasn’t a love story. This was a tragedy, waiting to unfold.

Chapter Text

The days had passed in a haze of restraint and avoidance. Chan and Felix, both burning from within, had decided—without saying a word—that distance might kill whatever dangerous thing was growing between them. They barely looked at each other. If they did, it was brief. If they touched, it was accidental.

They were fools, both of them.

The King of the Forest had made a new announcement: After Christmas, there will be a grand ball to celebrate the end of the Trials. Their Majesties from both Heaven and the Underworld will attend in person to name the winning realm.

Which meant one terrifying thing— Felix and Chan would soon see their parents.

It hung over them like an axe, but for now, there was still time. A few days of peace left. Today was Christmas.

Snow had fallen softly overnight, blanketing the castle grounds in white. A festive warmth filled the halls—candles lit in sconces, ivy twined around pillars, laughter in the air. Chan wandered the castle alone, trying to find his friends. He checked the dining halls. The library. The northern courtyard. Nothing. Then he remembered: the southern wing. Where the angels had their rooms. He frowned. His boots tapped softly on the marble floor as he headed down the corridor, half-expecting it to be empty. But then—voices. Laughter. Muffled teasing. He followed the sound, and sure enough, as he reached one of the doors, he could hear them clearly now.

Without knocking, he pushed the door open. “What the hell are you all doing here?”

The room went quiet for a half-second. Then chaos.

“Oi, it’s Christmas!” Changbin grinned, arm lazily draped around Hyunjin’s shoulders. “We figured the angel rooms would be warmer. And softer.”

“I’m not complaining,” Hyunjin smirked, tugging his lover’s hand. “Your kind doesn’t do subtlety, but damn… you bring heat.”

Minho was lounging on Jisung’s bed, one leg crossed over the other, watching Chan with a raised brow. “You took your time. We were about to start playing ‘naughty or very naughty.’”

“Guess which one Hyunjin is,” Changbin deadpanned from the windowsill, his eyes flicking to where Jeongin was attempting (and failing) to act unaffected.

“I.N’s been giving me the ‘holy glare’ all night,” Seungmin said with a wicked grin. “But if I kiss him under the mistletoe, I think he’ll forgive me.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “You wish.”

“You don’t dare, babe”. Seungmin teased him.

I.N. stood up determined. He grabbed Seungmin by the collar of his shirt and brought their lips together. Seungmin was shocked at first, but he quickly melted under the angel's kiss, his hands resting on his waist as he made the kiss deeper. Everyone started saying things and whistling. Well… not everyone.

Chan was barely listening or watching. Because as soon as he’d stepped into the room, his gaze had locked on him. Felix. Sitting near the fireplace, knees drawn up, a red wool blanket around his shoulders. He looked up when Chan entered— And the world stopped turning. 

Chan’s breath caught. Damn him. He looked like starlight made flesh. Eyes so blue they didn’t look real, glowing in the firelight. Cheeks flushed from warmth, lips parted just enough to wreck every wall Chan had tried to build in the last week. His heart slammed in his chest like it wanted out. Wanted him.

Felix’s chest squeezed violently. He hadn’t seen Chan this close in days. And now—standing in the doorway, eyes searching, jaw tense, black coat open, snow in his dark hair—he looked like every sin Felix wanted to commit. Gods, help him. He’d tried to forget. Tried to bury it all. But one glance, and everything came rushing back: The kiss. The warmth. The ache. He could still feel Chan’s lips on his.

They stared at each other across the room, drowning in silence, deaf to the teasing and flirting around them.

“Does he know?” Felix wondered. “Can he feel it too?”

“Say something,” Chan’s mind screamed. “Look away, break the spell—do anything—” But he couldn’t.

The others were still talking—loud and unfiltered.

Changbin leaned back and winked at Hyunjin. “Honestly, I’d wrap you in red ribbon and leave you under the tree for Santa. Naked.”

“Why wait?” Hyunjin grinned. “Unwrap me now.”

Minho chuckled. “Is no one going to talk about how Jisung's thigh is looking unreasonably edible tonight? That’s the real Christmas miracle.”

“Don’t even start,” Jisung warned. “You already bit me once.”

“That was gentle nibbling,” Minho said, deadpan. “Next time, I’ll leave marks.”

Seungmin grinned wickedly. “I.N’s still pretending he doesn’t want to take me to bed, but I’ve seen the way he looks when I touch his wing while kissing.…”

“Touch them again and I’ll end you,” Jeongin muttered, ears pink.

Felix didn’t hear any of it. Neither did Chan. Because in their little corner of the room, time had folded in. Nothing else existed. Just one truth between them, louder than a thousand words: They were not over this. Not even close. And pretending wasn’t working anymore.

___________________________________

Snow danced softly beyond the tall arched windows, blanketing the forest with a white stillness that wrapped the castle in an almost divine quiet. The room smelled like cinnamon and spiced wine, and the fireplace cast a flickering golden glow over the angelic wings folded gently on soft cushions.

The demons were sprawled about, comfortably out of place. Laughter still hung in the air after the last round of teasing, but now the mood was shifting. Hyunjin, curled up beside Changbin on a pile of blankets, was the first to bring it up.

"We should do presents now," he said brightly, pulling something from behind his back.

Chan raised an eyebrow. "Wait. What do you mean by 'presents'?"

Jisung perked up at the question. "In Heaven, during Christmas, we give gifts to the people who are... closest to us… who mean something to us. It's a tradition. We make something with our hands. Something meaningful.”

"Something handmade?" Changbin scratched his head. "Sounds exhausting."

"Says the guy who breaks boulders for fun," Hyunjin quipped.

"So you made something for me?" Changbin’s eyes lit up with amused surprise. “Oooh please… tell me you are my Christmas present!!”

Seungmin screamed looking at I.N. “And I want mine, cherub!”

Jisung smiled at Minho and whispered “I will give you yours…. Later…”

The room grew warm with laughters and teasing. Then Felix stood up, tugging at the hem of his sweater. His eyes met Chan’s.

"Uh... Chan?" he said, his voice suddenly very small. First time he spoke since Chan had arrived.

Chan, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, straightened. "Yeah?"

Felix bit his lip. "Could you come with me? To my room? I have something for you. I, uh... I left it there.”

The silence was deafening. Minho coughed meaningfully. Seungmin gave Chan a look. Jisung arched a brow.

Chan stood slowly, lips quirking and to ease the tension he told his joke that wasn't so much of a joke.. “Felix… if the gift is you naked with a ribbon, just tell me now. I’ll bring the whipped cream.”

Jisung groaned. “Jesus, Chan.”

Felix turned beet red but smirked. “Please. Like you’d know what to do with me naked.”

“Oh, baby,” Chan purred, stalking after him, “I’d ruin you so gently you’d be thanking me for weeks.”

I.N. covered his ears. “I’m too young for this!”

Seungmin laughed. “If you want, I can show you what they are talking about.”

Chan shot a grin over his shoulder as he followed Felix out the door. “Don’t wait up.”

The moment they were alone in the hall, the energy shifted. Chan still looked smug, but it was forced now. Every step behind Felix felt heavier, more loaded with things unsaid.

When they entered Felix’s room, the angel closed the door behind them and leaned against it for a second. His chest rose and fell fast.

Chan sat on the edge of the bed and watched him with open curiosity. “So… you’re not naked… When do you start stripping?”

Felix rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Always a tease, sunshine.”

Felix moved to the bed, then knelt on the floor in front of him.

Chan’s brain short-circuited. “Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit!!. You’re about to suck me off right now, aren’t you?… for real??”

Felix lifted a single brow, unimpressed but totally red imagining this situation in his head. “Wow… I'm not going to suck you off... what makes you think that?”

Chan scratched the back of his neck. “Can you blame me? You got on your knees in front of me, Lix. My mind goes places.”

“I was getting this…,” Felix said, pulling out a small wooden box from beneath the bed.

He climbed onto the mattress and sat beside Chan, holding it out with both hands. Their legs brushed. Chan didn’t move away.

“I made this,” Felix said softly, finally offering the box. “For you.”

Their hands touched as Chan took it, fingers grazing skin. A spark jolted up Felix’s spine. He watched as Chan opened it slowly. Inside, nestled in soft velvet, was a bracelet of alternating dark stones and luminous white ones. It shimmered faintly — not magically, but something about it still felt alive.

Chan blinked. “Felix…”

“The black stones are from near the edge of Heaven,” Felix said quietly. “From a volcanic ridge that barely anyone visits anymore. Ancient stories say that the volcano connects your kingdom with mine.... And the best thing about these little rocks is that they're like explosive grenades. They contain an active ingredient that can make them explode.”

Chan’s eyes didn’t leave the bracelet.

“And the white ones,” Felix continued, his voice trembling a little now, “they’re fragments. From fallen stars. They don’t fall often, but… when they do, they burn across the sky and crash like snowflakes. They disappear within minutes if no one finds them. I collected these myself… I have always waited for the moment to use them with someone important to me.”

Chan looked up. “You did all that for me?” Chan’s throat closed.

“They reminded me of us,” Felix went on, fingers twisting nervously in his lap. “Your wings’ color. Mine. Light and dark. Fire and air. I thought it was… it was…  stupid maybe. But I wanted you to have something that felt like us.”

He paused, then added quickly, “But if you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it. You can throw it out or break it or—”

Chan didn’t say anything. Then he reached down and pulled Felix into a hug. It was tight. Fierce. His arms wrapped around him like a shield. Felix melted instantly. His face pressed to Chan’s shoulder, his hands fisting in the back of his shirt. Felix swore he would have started crying at that moment. This. This was home. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not Heaven. Not Hell. Just the rhythm of Chan’s breathing and the feeling of finally, finally being held. After a long while, Chan loosened his grip.

“Thank you, sunshine.” Chan looked at him. ”But I don’t have a gift for you," he admitted.

Felix shook his head, a smile trembling on his lips. "I didn’t make it expecting one in return. I made it thinking of you. And how much I… I hate you."

Chan laughed, his whole body shaking. “I hate you too, butterfly”

Felix joined him, eyes glassy with quiet joy. Then Chan tilted his head, eyes lighting up.

"Hey. Grab your coat. We’re going somewhere."

Felix blinked. "Where?"

"To see Lunarys. I’ve got an idea."

Felix lit up instantly, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair and thinking Perfect! I made her a gift too.

_________________________________

The snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked side by side, their footsteps the only sound cutting through the hushed winter afternoon. They weren’t speaking — but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a silence full of breath and warmth and the occasional glance when one thought the other wasn’t looking.

Chan kept his eyes on the path ahead for the most part… but not really. Every few steps, he’d glance sideways, drawn like gravity toward the figure walking beside him.

Felix. Gods, he was beautiful. His straight blond hair flowed neatly over the collar of his soft white fur coat, catching flecks of snow that danced through the air like stardust. The golden-orange light of the setting sun bathed him, made his pale skin glow, and the snowflakes that landed on his cheeks only made him look more like something otherworldly. A creature of Heaven in the truest sense.

But it was his eyes that undid Chan every time. Surrounded by white snow, those blue eyes burned even brighter — twin pools of sky and ice and heartbreak. They pierced through Chan, each time deeper than before.

Definitely, white is his color, Chan thought helplessly. No. He is pure. Untouchable. And I’m standing here next to him like I haven’t already started to burn from wanting.

Meanwhile, Felix was stealing his own glances. Chan didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to not walk too close.

Felix, however, was quietly losing his mind. Chan wasn’t even wearing a coat. Of course he wasn’t. The cold didn’t touch him — it never had. Being a demon meant his temperature only rose the colder it got. So there he was: black jeans, thick boots, and a thin, dark, skin-tight long-sleeved shirt that clung to every inch of muscle like it was painted on. His shoulders flexed with every step. His arms were strong and cut. And his abs… Holy fuck. Felix swallowed.

Then Chan ran a hand through his dark hair, sweeping the strands back from his eyes — and his tongue flicked out briefly to wet his lips. Felix stumbled.

That tongue. That holly mouth.

He didn’t even want to imagine. Because if he did, he would get hard. Right here. In the snow. In broad daylight.

But god, what if his tongue— No. Stop. Stop thinking about that. But seriously, what if his tongue were… and licked my...—

Before his brain could spiral any further into sin, they stepped into the wide clearing at the edge of the woods. It was the same open space where they had trained in the weeks before the competitions — and where Chan's dragon, Lunarys, had made her temporary den.

Chan let out a sharp, two-toned whistle. Seconds passed. Then the trees rustled.

And from between the tall pines, Lunarys emerged — silver, massive, and breathtaking. Her scales glinted under the dying sun, covered in a delicate layer of snow that only made her seem like she’d just been born from a star.

Felix gasped softly. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Chan said, his voice quiet. “She is.”

Lunarys let out a low, excited trill the moment she saw them. Then she ran — galloped, almost — toward them, shaking snow from her wings as she moved like a giant, overgrown puppy. Chan laughed and ran forward, catching her front leg in a strong hug, rubbing her chest and side like he’d missed her more than air.

“You’ve gotten heavy,” he said, grinning. “What have you been eating? Deer? Bears?”

Lunarys bumped her massive snout into his shoulder affectionately.

Felix stepped closer, smiling wide. “Hi, little queen. I missed you so much.” He reached up and placed a kiss right on her cold, shiny snout. “Look at you, you gorgeous girl…”

She leaned into his touch like a cat, purring deep in her throat. Chan stilled. He watched Felix with something akin to awe. There was just… something about seeing Felix with his dragon — his dragon — treating her with so much gentleness, so much love, that Chan swore he felt his heart collapse a little in his chest.

Felix was everything dangerous and beautiful and forbidden — and he was here, kissing his dragon, smiling at him, like he belonged in Chan’s world. Like he was already part of it.

Felix turned to Chan, glowing. “Can I give her my gift now?”

Chan blinked. “You… got her something?”

Felix nodded, opening the bag slung over his shoulder. “I made it.”

He carefully pulled out a soft, folded bundle and unwrapped it with delicate fingers. Inside was a large, silver-blue cloth — hand-woven and intricately embroidered with celestial patterns. Stars, moons, tiny suns. Woven into it were threads of metallic silver and gold, and along the edge, there was a thin line of obsidian scales that looked like they'd been fallen or gifted — not taken. It was a scarf. A massive, shimmering scarf.

“She’s so bright,” Felix whispered, eyes on Lunarys. “And powerful. But she’s also… gentle. Soft. Like the night sky. So I wanted her to wear something that reminded her of that.”

He turned to Chan, suddenly flustered. Chan stepped forward, silent. Felix’s words faltered the moment they met eyes. Time didn’t stop. It collapsed. Chan’s gaze was endless — molten, unreadable — but there was something in it that made Felix’s chest cave in on itself.

Appreciation. Hunger. Wonder. Longing. And gods, Felix couldn’t breathe.

“I love it,” Chan said, voice lower now. “It’s perfect.”

Felix’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Chan took the scarf from his hands with care, their fingers brushing briefly — skin against skin, electric, breathless.

“Thank you,” Chan said again, softer this time. “Really.”

He turned to Lunarys, wrapping the scarf gently around her base thick neck, tying it so it wouldn’t pull when she flew. It settled beautifully against her silver scales, almost like it had always belonged there. Lunarys let out a contented hum and leaned into Chan’s side, clearly proud of her new accessory. Felix smiled at the sight — Chan standing beside his dragon, his scarf around her neck, the sun painting them both in light. Felix didn’t know what to say. Because everything he wanted to say was wrong.

He wanted to say: I’m in love with you.

He wanted to say: Your eyes look golden in this light, and every time you look at me, I feel like I’m burning.

He wanted to say: Please kiss me again. Please don’t stop. Please… love me.

But all he said was, “She looks perfect.”

Chan looked back at him. And smiled. It was small. Barely there. But it was warm. And soft. And it made Felix feel like the snow was melting beneath his feet.

Chan leaned back slightly on his heels, the snowy field silent around them except for the distant rustle of the trees and Lunarys’s soft breathing. Felix still had that smile on his face from watching the dragon nuzzle her new scarf. The light of the setting sun warmed the air with a glow that made everything feel softer, like a dream. Then Chan spoke.

"You know how I told you I didn’t get you a gift?" he said, voice calm, deep.

Felix turned toward him, raising an eyebrow.

"Because in the underworld, giving gifts isn’t really a thing. Not something we do."

"Right," Felix replied, his tone teasing. "You demons are all darkness and no holiday cheer."

Chan smirked. "Yeah, well... I brought you here to give you my present.”

Felix tilted his head. "You brought me here to give me a gift?"

"Mmhmm."

A mischievous grin bloomed on Felix’s lips. "Are you going to do a striptease in the snow for me, then?"

Chan burst out laughing, deep and warm. He took a small step closer. "If that’s what you want, baby, I’ll make it snow twice."

"I'm kidding" Felix laughed and gave him a playful smack on the arm. "Gross. You’re unbelievable."

Chan winked, not backing off. "I’ll save that for later. Maybe when we’re back at the castle. Because the moment I start taking off my clothes, you won’t be able to control yourself. And we’ll end up on the floor, doing things that would make angels cry."

Felix rolled his eyes, cheeks red but grinning wide. "Someone’s confident."

Chan leaned in, voice a low whisper against Felix’s ear. "Wanna test it?"

Felix visibly gulped. Chan pulled back, eyes twinkling.

Felix tried to change the subject before his brain short-circuited. "So, uh, what exactly is this gift, then?"

Chan turned toward Lunarys, placing a hand gently on her side. She lowered her body in response, flattening herself against the snow-covered earth.

"You’re going to ride her."

Felix blinked. "What?"

Chan looked back at him, serious now. "Your first ride. On Lunarys."

Felix’s jaw dropped. "You’re saying... I’m going to ride a mythical being? A dragon? Not just any dragon, but a silver-scaled goddess that looks like she flew out of a fucking dream?"

Chan chuckled. "Not just any dragon. My dragon. And... she’s never let anyone else ride her. Not even my friends. Not even my father. Just me."

Felix turned slowly toward Lunarys, wide-eyed, lips parting as he tried to comprehend it.

"You’re serious."

Chan nodded. "She trusts you. And so do I. I’ll be with you the whole time."

The angel stared at the dragon, then back at Chan. His chest tightened.

"I… I don’t know what to say."

"Say yes."

Chan stepped up onto Lunarys’s foreleg and climbed gracefully onto her back, settling into the curved dip behind her neck. He reached out a hand. Felix hesitated.

And then Chan said it: "Do you trust me?"

Felix didn’t blink. He didn’t think. He just stepped forward and took his hand. "Of course I do."

Chan pulled him up easily, guiding him so he sat in front of him, his smaller frame nestled between Chan’s legs. His body pressed against Felix’s back, warm and firm. His hands, large and gentle, slid around Felix’s waist to steady him. Felix nearly stopped breathing. His entire body reacted to the touch, to the way Chan’s heat poured through him, seeping into his bones. He closed his eyes for a second, overcome by the closeness, the scent of smoke and something faintly sweet on Chan’s skin.

"You okay?" Chan murmured against his ear.

Felix nodded, voice stuck in his throat.

Chan smiled. "She’s not pushing you off. That’s a good sign."

And then, with a shift of his legs and a low command in a language Felix didn’t recognize, Lunarys spread her wings. The world tilted. And then lifted.

Felix let out a gasp as the snow fell away beneath them. The dragon’s massive wings beat against the air, slow and powerful, and they rose higher and higher until the trees looked like tiny silver spikes.

The sky cracked open before them in a blaze of gold and fire. Felix laughed, arms instinctively clinging to Chan’s thighs. But then, slowly, he released one hand. Then the other. He lifted his arms into the sky.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOH!" His voice echoed through the clouds.

Chan grinned behind him, locking his arms a little tighter around his waist. "You like it?"

"I LOVE it!"

They soared, dipped, spun gently in the air. Chan guided Felix's hands to certain parts of Lunarys’s neck. 

"If you want to turn left, press here. Right? Here. Tilt her head gently, and she’ll follow your direction. To descend, touch her spine right here."

Felix listened with awe, trying each motion. She responded smoothly, and they swept through the air like a ribbon. They played, twirling and gliding. Felix shouted in joy. Chan laughed with him. At one point, Lunarys swooped upward, then dropped slightly, and Felix let out a surprised scream that turned into giggles.

Chan used the moment to pull him tighter from behind. The warmth. The power. The thrill. It was too much and still not enough. The dragon eventually leveled out, soaring smoothly over the mountains.

The light around them turned deeper gold, soft reds bleeding in from the horizon. Felix turned his head, looking back over his shoulder. His face was flushed, eyes sparkling.

"This is... incredible," he whispered. "You have no idea how lucky you are to have her."

Chan looked at him. He was so close. His eyes, so blue. Lips parted. Breath soft. And those lips— Chan didn’t think. If he thought, he wouldn’t have done it. He moved a hand from Felix’s waist to the side of his head, fingers threading into that soft blond hair. 

And gently, he pulled. Felix didn’t resist. He tilted toward him, lips hovering just inches away. Chan closed the gap. The kiss was slow at first. Gentle. Soft. Like falling snow. Like asking, Can I?

Felix responded with a whisper of a sigh, his lips moving against Chan’s. He pressed back, opening just enough for Chan to taste him. Tongues brushed. Felix melted. He twisted in Chan’s arms, hands clutching his thighs now, needing to hold onto something. Anything. Because he was floating.

Chan deepened the kiss. It was desperate and tender. A clash of fire and sky. A slow claiming. His mouth moved like he was learning Felix’s shape, memorizing the way he breathed. And Felix gave in to it. Every second. They kissed like they were alone in the world. Like the sky had opened just for them. Like the stars had paused to watch. Their bodies pressed tighter. Their mouths moving slowly, then with more need. Chan groaned low in his throat, fingers tightening in Felix’s hair. Felix whimpered into his mouth, and Chan swallowed the sound, kissing him deeper, longer.

When they finally pulled away, both were breathless. Felix looked at Chan trembling and returned his body to the initial position with his back resting on Chan's chest and Chan's arms squeezing him around the waist. Neither of them said anything. Because they didn’t need to. The sky carried them onward. Wrapped in gold. Riding the back of a dragon, kissed by the clouds.

And in that moment, they both knew. And there was no turning back.

Chapter Text

The sound of trumpets shattered the winter stillness, piercing through the crisp afternoon air like arrows made of gold. The heavy gates of the castle creaked open, and the Royal Court of the Forest Kingdom stood ready beneath the pale glow of the late sun. Snowflakes danced slowly down from above, catching in the braids and crowns of those gathered.

King Daewon, regal and grounded as the trees he ruled, stood at the front, flanked by his daughters — Jennie and Rosé— radiant in silver-blue silk that shimmered against the snow. Behind them stood Felix, his back straight, wings folded neatly, heart pounding just a little harder than it should. To his right was Chan, cloaked in darkness and shadow like the very soul of the Underworld, his jaw tight, his fingers twitching. He was calm on the outside — but just barely.

Then the earth trembled. A slow, deliberate vibration spread beneath their feet. The ground split open, steam rising from the fissure like breath from the lungs of a beast. From the rift came four black horses, larger than any mortal steed, hooves trailing smoke, eyes burning crimson. They pulled a carriage of obsidian and blood-gold, jagged and elegant like the spine of a predator.

From within it, King Ragnar and Queen Freja of the Underworld stepped down. King Ragnar was broad, with a face carved from war and time. His horns were thick and sharp, his presence cold as death. Beside him, Queen Freja floated with eerie grace, her eyes silver like dying stars.

“King Daewon,” Ragnar said with a nod.

“King Ragnar,” Daewon replied, tone diplomatic and measured.

The demon monarchs turned to their son.

“Chan,” Ragnar greeted.

“Father,” Chan replied evenly, bowing with restrained control.

Then Ragnar's gaze moved to Felix… and passed through him as if he didn’t exist. The Queen's eyes slid coldly toward Felix… and then moved past him as if he were a ghost. No acknowledgement. No word. Not even disdain. Just absence. Felix's chest tightened, but he kept his chin up. He knew what he was to them — a threat. An impossibility. An enemy.

Suddenly, the wind above shifted. The sky itself opened — parting like silk under a blade — as blinding light poured through, illuminating the courtyard in radiant warmth. The trumpets sounded again, this time softer, higher. Like the voice of heaven itself. From above descended six white-winged horses, pure and breathtaking, carrying a glowing chariot that gleamed like polished starlight. As it touched down lightly on the snow, King Elias and Queen Lina of the Heaven Realm stepped out.

King Elias, golden-haired and severe, radiated power without saying a word. Queen Lina, softer in presence but no less divine, had tears in her eyes as she scanned the crowd. Her gaze locked on Felix — and her expression melted.

“My baby!” she cried, already stepping forward, her arms wide open.

Felix couldn’t hold back. He sprinted across the snow.

She caught him in a tight embrace, cradling his face, pressing kisses to his hair. “I’ve missed you so much, my angel.”

Chan felt a warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of Felix in his mother’s arms. So happy. So loved. It was beautiful. And then a cold laugh broke through it.

“Pathetic,” muttered King Ragnar with a smirk, just loud enough. Freja smirked beside him.

Chan gritted his teeth so hard he thought he’d crack one. He didn’t answer. He didn’t dare.

King Elias approached next, placing a firm hand on Felix’s shoulder. “I trust you’ve given the demons hell,” he said, his tone low and sharp, his eyes lingering with open disgust on Chan’s parents.

Felix gave a small nod, not trusting himself to speak.

Just then, Chan’s eyes caught something—someone—standing among the Underworld guards. That face. That cocky smile.

“Yosung?” he muttered, brows furrowing.

The young man standing near the carriage stepped forward as if on cue. Yosung, son of the Underworld's High War Strategist, was well-known in the court. Tall, lithe, with an effortless smirk that made people want to both slap and kiss him. He moved like a serpent—too confident, too sure of himself. He had grown up with Chan. Trained beside him. And always looked at him like he wanted him.

“What’s he doing here?” Chan demanded, turning to his parents.

Before they could answer, King Daewon stepped forward. All heads turned.

“Tonight,” he announced, “there will be a formal ball, beginning at nine sharp. In honor of the festival and the conclusion of the trials.”

He looked between the royal families.

“I requested that each kingdom bring a dance partner or suitor from among their noble ranks to accompany their prince. These partners will join you tonight in your formal waltz, which will open the ball.”

Felix’s chest tightened. He turned just in time to see Yosung approaching Chan with a deliberate, charming grin — slow, confident, devastating.

“Your Highness,” Yosung said, bowing low. “It’s been too long.”

Chan didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His brain froze. What the fuck was he doing here? And worse — Felix was looking at them. Watching all of it. He watched as Yosung smiled at Chan like he owned him. And as Chan stood there, stunned, Felix’s stomach twisted. That smile was too familiar. Too easy.

Felix bit the inside of his cheek and tried to look away— But then he felt it. A hand — soft and cool — caught his own. He looked down and saw it being lifted, kissed.

“Your Highness,” came the soft, composed voice.

Felix looked up — and met a pair of beautiful white wings.

“Joon,” he said, stunned.

Joon, son of the Heavenly King’s right hand, was grace incarnate. Every movement elegant, every word perfect. His golden curls fell lightly across his forehead, and his smile was disarmingly genuine. Too genuine.

“I hope I’m not too forward,” Joon said, “but I asked your father if I might accompany you this evening.”

Felix blinked, forcing a polite smile onto his face. “No. Not forward at all,” he said, though his voice was tight.

From across the courtyard, Chan’s eyes locked on the scene — and something inside him snapped. He saw Joon kiss Felix’s hand, saw that damn angel touching him, saw Felix looking just amused enough, and Chan’s body burned like he might combust.

He wanted to rip Joon’s fucking wings off. How dare he. Touch what wasn’t his. Smile at him like he knew him. Like he had a chance.

Felix looked back at Chan, and the moment their eyes met — it was electric. Jealousy. Heat. Rage. Lust. Possession. Felix tilted his head just slightly. A small smile — a smirk, really — tugged at his lips. He was playing with fire. Chan was ready to burn the whole damn world down. They weren’t together. But watching someone else touch the man he loved?

Unacceptable. Unforgivable. Let the ball begin.

___________________________________

The golden hour gave way to moonlight. Snow had stopped falling, leaving the night sky clear — scattered with stars that blinked like watchful eyes. And inside the ballroom of the Forest Palace, the clock struck nine. The Grand Staircase, wide and elegant with green vines entwined around its bannisters, gleamed under hundreds of floating crystal orbs. The air was thick with perfume, power, and tension.

The ball had begun. The announcer’s voice echoed through the room.

“Their Majesties, King Daewon of the Forest Realm, and his daughters, Princess Jennie and Princess Rosé.”

The crowd turned. Daewon descended the stairs in deep emerald robes, his daughters in gowns of rose-gold and silver, matching the forests and snow of their land. Applause followed them to the marble floor.

“Their Majesties, King Elias and Queen Lina of the Heaven Realm.”

The glow in the room seemed to brighten. The light that came off of them was not just from the chandeliers — it came from within. They were gods among mortals. And they knew it.

Then came the dark.

“Their Majesties, King Ragnar and Queen Freja of the Underworld.”

The cold followed them like a shadow. All chatter died. Their presence was chilling, yet magnetic. They descended in silence. The atmosphere turned tense. And then—

“Prince Bang Chan of the Underworld, accompanied by Yosung, son of Taehyung.”

A pause. All eyes turned to the top of the stairs. And there he was. Chan.

Dressed in obsidian silk and black velvet, his shoulders broad, his hair slicked back in gentle waves. The silver embroidery along his collar sparkled like stars swallowed by midnight. A prince. A predator. A god of war in disguise. His hand held Yosung’s — casually, but firmly. Yosung was smirking like a man who thought he’d already won. Chan didn't glance at him. He didn’t need to. His mind was elsewhere. As he reached the last step, the air changed again.

“Prince Felix of the Heaven Realm, accompanied by Joon, son of Hwa-young.”

Chan froze. The room did too. And then Felix appeared.

Descending from the top of the stairs like he’d fallen from the stars themselves. He wasn't wearing a suit. He wore a flowing ivory tunic with a long, trailing train that shimmered like stardust. His hair was half pulled back, delicate silver stars woven into the golden hair. His eyes were lined in soft gold, making the icy blue of his irises glow like polished sapphires. His lips, glossy and flushed, curved into the softest smirk. Ready to be kissed. Ready to be ruined. He looked ethereal. Not mortal. Not prince. A divine being. A curse. A miracle.

Chan’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t stop staring. Couldn’t stop aching.

Felix locked eyes with him. The same stare. The same fire. He bit his lower lip slowly, his gaze drinking in every inch of Chan’s frame.

Gods, that man… That demon.

He had no idea how close Felix was to running into his arms, right there in front of everyone. The world be damned. Let war come. Let the Underworld and the Heavens burn. He just wanted to kiss him. They stared until the floor came rushing back to meet them and their partners led them forward.

The spell broke. The music started — a slow, classical waltz. And with that, the couples were expected to take the floor.

Felix turned his body toward Joon, who was already moving to place his hand on his waist. He winced — not visibly — but just enough for it to sting. Chan didn’t look away. Not for a second. Joon's hand settled on Felix’s lower back, fingers lingering. His other hand took Felix’s as they moved into the first dance step. And Chan wanted to shatter something. He could see Joon smiling. Whispering something to Felix. Trying to be charming.

“Touch him again,” Chan muttered under his breath, “and I swear—”

But he was interrupted by Yosung's voice, close and smug.

“You know,” Yosung said as he leaned in, resting his chin on Chan’s shoulder, “you don’t have to look so tortured. You’ve got the best dance partner right here.”

Chan’s hands tightened around Yosung’s waist.

“Don’t push your luck.”

Yosung chuckled low. “Touchy, touchy.”

Chan was fuming. Across the floor, Felix watched it all — eyes narrow, jaw clenched. Yosung’s face on Chan’s shoulder. Why was that bastard smiling? Why was he allowed to be that close to his demon? His demon. Gods. Felix’s hand balled into a fist at his side.

“Everything okay?” Joon asked gently, his voice annoyingly sweet.

“Perfect,” Felix said, still watching Chan, whose eyes never left him.

The dance continued, their bodies moving with grace and precision — but their minds were at war. Every spin was a step closer to snapping. Every gloved touch burned like acid. As the final note rang through the air, the dancers froze in perfect pose — and then the room erupted into applause.

Everyone clapped. Except for Chan and Felix. They just stood there, catching their breath — flushed, angry, and starving for something they weren’t allowed to have.

The couples moved toward the long banquet table where the kings and queens had already seated themselves. The princes took their places — Felix beside his parents, Chan beside his own. The food arrived — wild venison, roasted roots, golden wine. The mood was festive. But tension crackled like lightning.

And then King Daewon stood. A hush fell across the hall.

He raised his goblet. “A toast. To the courage of princes, and the unity of realms.” He smiled, warm and honest. “No matter who we are, what we rule, or what we believe… tonight we celebrate something greater than ourselves.”

All goblets were raised. A clinking of glass followed. And then — dessert. Glazed fruits, spiced cakes, delicate puddings in cups of crystal. And then — again — Daewon stood. This time, his expression was serious.

“The time has come,” he said, “to share the results of the trials.”

Murmurs rippled across the room.

Daewon waited. Then continued. “But I must confess… I cannot yet choose a side.”

Confusion spread. Even the kings looked at one another. Daewon held up a hand.

“In the first trial — the Trial of Survival — Prince Chan was predicted to win. He was more prepared, trained for adversity. But something happened.”

His eyes shifted to Felix.

“When Chan was caught in a field of venomflies, Felix could have used that chance to escape and win.” Daewon paused. “But he turned back. And helped him. He saved the life of his rival.”

The king’s voice softened.

“In times of war, we do not seek allies who are strong only for themselves. We seek those who won’t leave us behind. Even when we fall. That is why the first victory goes to Prince Felix.”

The hall applauded. King Elias beamed, placing a hand proudly on Felix’s shoulder. King Ragnar did not clap. His hands tightened around his goblet. His eyes burned holes into his son.

Daewon continued.

“In the Trial of Combat, Felix was graceful, fast — he had nearly won. But at the final moment, the troll struck. He would have died.” Silence fell. “And Prince Chan threw himself in the way. Fractured both wings to protect him.”

A beat.

“That kind of sacrifice tells us what kind of ally the Underworld would be — one willing to give everything. Even their lives…. The second victory goes to Prince Chan."

King Elias’s smile disappeared. He set down his goblet, jaw tense. King Ragnar tilted his head — but only nodded once to his son. The applause was more hesitant this time. Everyone was feeling the weight of the rivalry.

“And so,” King Daewon concluded, “with one victory each… the competition is not yet over.” He smiled, calm and cryptic. “There are still trials ahead. And only when all is done… will I choose my allies.”

A long silence followed. Chan looked at Felix. Felix looked at Chan. Their lips didn’t move — but everything screamed between them. But this war wasn’t just political. It was personal. And far from over.

_______________________________

The dinner had ended.

The music was softer now, distant, barely echoing from the ballroom. The only thing that remained was wine and wrath— and no one was more affected than King Daewon, who laughed too loudly with an empty goblet in his hand and rosy cheeks from the drink.

But King Ragnar hadn’t touched his wine in a while. He was watching. His jaw clenched, his fingers tapping slowly on the table, the way a man counts down to his own explosion. And then, without warning, he stood.

“Chan.”

His voice cut through the chatter. Everyone paused. Chan immediately straightened, sensing the danger, and locked eyes with his father.

“Come. I want a word. Alone.”

Felix’s breath caught. He turned his head subtly, following them with his gaze as they left the table. He could feel something was wrong. He could feel it deep in his bones.

The garden outside was cold, bathed in moonlight, petals trembling in the night wind. King Ragnar didn’t stop walking until they were deep in the trees — far enough to be unheard, but not unseen. He turned.

And without a moment’s breath, he slapped Chan across the face. Not hard enough to draw blood. But hard enough to make it hurt. Chan didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. His father’s eyes were gleaming with fury.

“I am truly disappointed in you.”

Chan blinked. His jaw twitched. “…What?”

Ragnar stepped closer, towering over him now.

“You saved that filthy angel,” he spat. “You could’ve let him die. The alliance would have been ours. Victory, ours. And instead, you threw it away like a fool!”

He kicked a nearby tree, the bark cracking under his boot.

“If you weren’t my blood,” Ragnar growled, “I would kill you right now with my bare hands.”

Chan’s body finally moved — tension crackling down his arms as his fists clenched. “He saved me first,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t even know. He pulled me out of a siren trap. He could’ve left. He didn’t.”

His father laughed — a cruel, empty sound. “Oh, boo hoo,” Ragnar mocked. “The little star-eyed moth flapped its wings to save you from a wet little fish. Do you want me to cry?”

He stepped even closer now, nose-to-nose.

“I don’t give a damn what that pathetic excuse for a prince did. It’s in his nature to be soft. But you? You’re no angel. You’re my son.” His voice dropped lower, darker. “You don’t have a heart. You don’t have feelings. You were born in the fire pits of our realm, bathed in hell water, raised by generals and beasts…. You are the future King of the Underworld, Chan. One of the most feared demons in the realm. ACT LIKE IT.”

Chan’s breath started to tremble — not from fear, but from the burn of fury beneath his skin.

“If that little moth dies,” Ragnar snarled, “better for us. One less problem. One less distraction.” He looked Chan dead in the eye.

There was silence. A long, venomous silence.

Chan’s mouth opened. His voice was hoarse. “Father, I—”

“No.” Ragnar snapped. “I don’t want to hear another goddamn word from you. I’m so fucking furious with you, Chan. Furious beyond reason.” He was shaking now, from his own anger. “If I hear one more rumor about you helping that stupid, soft, glittering angel again… I swear on the bones of our ancestors, I will hang you myself in the center of the Underworld. Prince or not.”

Chan’s jaw clenched. He wanted to scream. To punch something. To burn this whole garden down.

“You weren’t born to feel. You were born to kill. That’s what you are. That’s what I made you to be.” Ragnar’s grip tightened. “And if that bastard angel gets in the way of that again…” His voice dropped to a growl. “You will end him.”

Chan swallowed hard. His voice was flat now. Lifeless. “Finished?”

Ragnar sneered. “Your mother and I are leaving tonight. I won’t breathe the same air as those Sky Kingdom glitter-dwellers one second longer.”

“…Safe travels back home,” he said coldly. “And take your precious Yosung with you.” He lifted his head, eyes sharp as daggers. “Because there’s no fucking way I’m marrying that idiot.”

Ragnar smiled. But it was the kind of smile that meant war. “That,” he said slowly, “is yet to be decided.”

________________________________

Chan stormed back into the great hall like a thundercloud in human form. His fists were clenched, his jaw set, his eyes barely concealing the fury burning behind them. He walked straight past the gathered guests, past the glances and murmured speculations, heading for the lavish wine table at the far end.

Without a word, he snatched the first full bottle he saw, uncorked it roughly, and began drinking straight from the neck. His throat burned, but it was nothing compared to the fire in his chest.

Felix saw everything from the corner of the room. The tension in Chan’s shoulders. The darkness in his eyes. The way he didn’t look at anyone. And then, the final blow:

"We take our leave now," King Ragnar said, addressing King Daewon. "This realm reeks of weakness. I will not spend another second surrounded by the stench of false nobility."

Gasps and awkward glances spread across the table. Felix looked between Ragnar, the king of the forest, and Chan, who had already turned and left the hall again. Felix stood abruptly.

"Excuse me," he murmured, pushing back his chair.

"Is everything alright?" his mother asked.

"Restroom," he lied, already walking away.

But he wasn’t going to the restroom. He ran. Down the halls, past the guards, through the tall glass doors and into the night. His breath caught in his throat as the cool air hit him, but he pushed forward, down the steps and across the courtyard, until he found the side path that led to the back gardens.

And there he was. Chan. Leaning against a pillar, half in shadow, gulping wine as if it were water. He was muttering to himself. Angry. Broken. Alone. Felix approached quietly, slowly, and reached out. He touched Chan’s shoulder.

Chan spun around, tense and guarded.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he barked, voice rough.

"I saw you come in," Felix said calmly, though his heart was pounding. "You looked furious. And then your father announced his departure. I figured it had something to do with that..."

Chan scoffed, pushing past him.

"Oh, wow. Are you a seer now? A psychic glitter bug? How impressive."

Felix flinched at the insult. "Don't talk to me like that."

"I'll talk to you however the hell I want," Chan snapped, turning back to him. "You're not my friend. You're not anything to me. You're the enemy. So maybe it's time we start acting like it."

Something in Felix cracked.

"You're an imbecile."

Chan laughed, bitterly. "Great. Add that to the list. Father already said worse. Got anything new?"

Felix’s voice softened, just for a second. "You want to talk about it?"

"With you?" Chan said, stepping forward. "Let me make this perfectly clear: if I ever needed someone to talk to, it sure as hell wouldn’t be the glitter-covered dragonfly sent from Heaven to ruin my life.”

Felix clenched his fists. "Why are you being such an asshole?"

"Because that’s what I am," Chan growled. "That’s what the Underworld made me. And you know what? Maybe my father is right. Maybe I’ve been soft lately. Weak. And do you know why?"

"Please enlighten me," Felix spat.

"Because of you."

The silence after those words was sharp. Chan needed to be mean to Felix. He needed Felix to hate him. To not want to be around him. As much as it hurt Chan, Felix was always going to be his weakness, and he didn't want to drag him down.

"You got into my head like a fucking cancer," Chan continued, circling him like a predator. "With your eyes and your pity and your fake sympathy. You made me question what I was. That was a mistake. One I won’t make again."

Felix's voice trembled, but he held his ground.

“I don’t believe you… You risked your life for me. If that meant nothing to you, then you’re not just broken, you’re heartless."

"Heartless," Chan repeated, stepping in close, eyes burning. "Good. That’s what a demon should be. I don't have the luxury of feelings. Not if I want to survive. Not if I want to rule."

Felix’s heart dropped. “You don’t mean that.”

Chan smirked coldly. “You think you know what I mean? You think because we had a few moments, you get to waltz in here and play savior? Fuck off.”

Felix’s voice shook. “You’re being cruel.”

“I’m being honest,” Chan spat. “It’s about time someone told you the truth. You’re naïve. Annoying. You flutter around like everyone should love you just because you smile and say please. But you’re weak. Soft. That’s what you angels are. Weaklings wrapped in silk robes and fake virtue.”

Felix took a step back, hurt flashing across his face. Chan kept going. He had to keep going. If Felix stayed close, if he saw the truth —that Chan loved him with all his heart, it would kill him.

“And you think I want to be around you? To what? Watch you dance around like a virgin bride with your little wings and pretty eyes, begging for someone to notice you?” Chan laughed, bitter and venomous. “Go back to your precious Joon. Let him fuck you. Bet he’d love that. He probably gets hard just looking at you.”

“Shut up—”

“Go back to him. Spread your legs and let him coddle you. Let him whisper sweet things while you pretend you're not hollow inside.”

Felix’s breath caught. “Fuck you,” he hissed. Felix’s face turned to stone. The pain was unmistakable. “You’re disgusting.”

Chan stepped forward one last time, his voice dropping to a whisper—a cruel, merciless whisper.

“I hate you, Felix. And I will hate you for the rest of my life. You mean nothing to me. You are a mistake. A weakness. And I swear to every god in this cursed realm, if I ever feel anything for you, I’ll carve it out of myself with a blade….Fuck….  I should have let you die.”

Felix’s lip quivered. Felix's tears were falling freely now, hot trails down his flushed cheeks. His chest heaved with shallow, broken breaths. Chan's heart broke into a million pieces when he saw him cry.

My angel... please don't... This is the best thing for both of us... I can't watch you cry...

And then, quietly, painfully, Felix said: “I hate you too.”

His voice was small, but it cut deeper than any sword.

“I hate you with every piece of my soul,” he said, breathless, broken. “You ruin everything you touch. Everybody was right about the fucking demons. You are the worst.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Felix turned and walked away—fast, stumbling, desperate to disappear before his legs gave out under the weight of it all.

Chan didn’t move. He couldn’t. He just stood there as Felix vanished into the shadows, the echo of his words staining the night like blood on snow. And for the first time in a long time, Chan felt cold. Truly, unbearably cold.

Chapter Text

It was almost dawn. The sky outside Felix’s window had begun to shift from the black of night to a soft gray. The stars had dimmed, and the kingdom was silent. But inside Felix’s chest, a war still raged. He lay on his bed, the silky sheets tangled around his legs, his body curled tightly, fists clenched into the pillow as quiet tears soaked the fabric beneath his cheek. How could Chan say those things?

His words played on a torturous loop in Felix’s head:

"I hate you, Felix. And I will hate you for the rest of my life. You mean nothing to me. You are a mistake. A weakness. And I swear to every god in this cursed realm, if I ever feel anything for you, I’ll carve it out of myself with a blade… Fuck… I should have let you die."

Another tear slipped down, silent and scalding. Why? Why did it have to be him? Why did his heart choose someone who didn’t want him? Who couldn’t love him back?

"Dammit..." he whispered, gripping the sheets.

Suddenly—A sound by the door. Felix froze. His tears dried instantly under the adrenaline. There was someone outside… fumbling with the handle. Slow. Clumsy. Desperate. Felix sat up and waited in breathless silence.

The door creaked open. And in stumbled Chan. Felix’s heart stopped. Chan stood in the doorway, swaying, making a shushing sound with his finger to his lips like a child sneaking into a forbidden room.

"Shhh... don’t wake the... the suns..."

Felix immediately noticed it—the unsteady sway, the red eyes, the half-lidded lids, the way he nearly crashed into the dresser. He was drunk. Absolutely, completely gone. Chan’s hazy gaze landed on Felix, and a lopsided smile curved on his lips.

"You're... you’re… alone," he slurred. "Didn’t go… with him..."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Felix whispered harshly, grabbing his waist and slinging Chan’s heavy arm over his shoulders. "It’s almost morning! You’re drunk off your ass and you’re in my room? My parents are just three doors down—if they see you here, they’ll kill us both."

Chan leaned heavily against him, his breath warm and soaked with wine. "But you’re not with him…" he murmured again.

"With who?" Felix asked, dragging him toward the door.

"Him. Joon…"

Felix rolled his eyes. "Seriously? You’re breaking into my room at dawn because you thought I was with Joon?” Felix knew at that moment that Chan was jealous. ”You're drunk out of your mind," Felix said, throwing Chan’s arm over his shoulder. "And you reek. Come on. I'm getting you out of here before you get us both killed."

Chan leaned heavily against him, barely able to walk. His breath was warm on Felix’s ear, his words slurring in slow motion.

"You smell… like heaven... no, better... like… like… sin dressed as sugar. Are you… wearing something? Or is… is that just you… baby?”

"You smell like bad decisions.” Felix nearly dropped him. "Gods, Chan, shut up."

Chan giggled into his shoulder. "You’re so cute… when you’re… mad. Even cuter… when you’re… trying to… to be responsible. Ugh… I wanna kiss… your angry little mouth…”

"You're going to fall if you don’t shut up."

“Fall?… I… I already did," Chan whispered with a drunken grin. "Right into… you…. Hard… So hard, Lix."

"Stars above..." Felix muttered with his heart beating so fast, dragging them both down the corridor.

"You’re warm…,” Chan mumbled, resting his face against Felix’s neck. "So warm... Are you sure.. you…  you don’t want to… cuddle?… Just a little?… I’m very good at it… Could be naked... for, uh, warmth..."

Felix groaned. "You’re lucky you’re drunk and cute. Otherwise—“

“So… you do think… I’m cute," Chan whispered with a drunken smirk. "Noted."

They finally reached Chan’s room. Felix pushed the door open and guided him inside. Chan collapsed onto the bed, arms spread wide, hair mussed, shirt halfway unbuttoned. He looked like a fallen prince.

"Lixie... don’t go," he whispered, reaching a hand out. "I’m sorry…”

Felix froze.

"I didn’t… I didn’t… mean it," Chan slurred totally drunk. "Not any of it… I was angry…  because of my father…. He… he said… I was weak… A disgrace… So I… I lashed out. …At you…. To make you hate me."

Felix sighed. "You need water. And sleep. Mostly sleep."

He left and returned with a glass, only for Chan to grab his hand instead.

“Stay…. Please,” Chan begged. "I can’t sleep… without… without you… I’ve tried… It sucks. Everything sucks… when you're not… near me."

Felix’s face softened. "You really are drunk."

"Drunk on you…,” Chan grinned. “Gods… you’re so pretty… I used to hate it…  Now… Now I wanna… drown in it."

"Drink the water before I drown you in it."

Chan took a sip, spilling half down his chest.

"Oops," he said, licking his lips slowly. "You could help me… clean it off… Want to?… With your tongue maybe—"

"CHAN."

He giggled. "Sorry. Sorry… It’s just... you’re here…. And we’re not… not… yelling anymore… I thought… I ruined everything.… I did ruin everything."

Felix sat beside him. "You said awful things to me, asshole!”

"I know… I hate myself for it…. I was trying… to protect you… From me… From my world…. From my father."

"You nearly destroyed me… why?”

Chan’s expression changed. The playfulness drained away. Guilt hit like a wave. He sat up slowly, eyes suddenly wide and glassy. Chan's drunken eyes, glassy and filled with something raw and fragile, lifted to meet Felix’s.

"You’re… you’re the most beautiful thing… I’ve ever seen… And demons… we… don’t get to keep beautiful things."

Felix’s heart skipped. "Chan…"

Chan smiled again, dazed. "They say… demons don’t have hearts… But I was born… with one… A damaged one… And that broken heart—" he reached up, fingers brushing Felix’s cheek, "—it fell for you… the moment I saw you.”

Chan's drunken eyes, glassy and filled with something raw and fragile, lifted to meet Felix’s. Felix reached up and gently touched his face.

"You’re drunk," Felix whispered. "You’re going to regret this tomorrow… Channie.”

Chan took another sip, eyes still glued to Felix. “Why… why are you so… sweet to me? After everything… I said?"

Felix smiled sadly. "I ask myself the same thing. I should’ve let you roll down the stairs."

Chan took a long drink, then set the glass aside. "I’m sorry…. For all of it."

"You already said that."

"I’ll say it a hundred… more times…. You didn’t deserve … that.”

Felix swallowed hard looking at him.

Chan stared at him, glassy-eyed. “You… didn’t go… with him."

"Who?"

"Joon."

Felix blinked and then chuckled softly. "Oh my god! Again with this?.... You thought I slept with Joon?"

"He wants you... I see it…. Everyone sees it… But you’re not his… You’re mine…. Mine, Lix. No one... no one will ever… love you like I do… No one."

Felix’s eyes shimmered. “Please…Say that again. When you’re sober. I want to believe it."

He leaned in and kissed Chan’s cheek. "Sleep, okay?"

"Stay," Chan pleaded. "Please stay… I promise I’ll be good… Or... if you want… I can be bad.… Very, very bad.… Just say the word."

Felix laughed, shaking his head. "You’re impossible."

Still, he crawled into the bed. Chan immediately pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Felix’s waist.

"Do you… do you… still think I hate… you?" Chan whispered.

Felix was quiet. "You said you did. You said you wished I died."

Chan’s eyes filled again. "I didn’t mean it…. Not one word…. I was angry… Scared… But I could never hate you.… Never… You’re sunshine, Lix… Pure light…  And I... I’m in love with you… And if you disappeared... I’d disappear too…”

He broke. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he clung to Felix, sobbing into his chest.

"I’m sorry…” he choked. "I’m so sorry.… Please forgive me… I love you… I love you more… more than anything… Please don’t hate me.…”

Felix cupped his face, brushing the tears away, and kissed him. Soft. Gentle. Real. Their lips touched. Their mouths opened. Their tongues met. And everything else disappeared. It was just the two of them. Two souls in love, kissing passionately. Felix broke away from the kiss to breathe.

"Sleep now," he whispered against Chan’s lips. "We’ll talk in the morning."

Chan curled into his neck, inhaling his scent.

"You smell.. like forever," he mumbled.

“I will be your forever, my love.” Felix smiled through tears. 

And together, they finally slept—heartbroken, healing, and hopelessly in love.

_________________________________

Morning crept in slowly, gently, like it didn’t want to disturb them. Golden light spilled through the curtains in soft rays, dust dancing lazily in the air. The room smelled faintly of wine and wildflowers—and something warmer, sweeter. Felix stirred. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was. Then he felt it.

The weight of an arm around his waist. A steady, warm breath against the back of his neck. A body curled behind his own, pulling him close as if in sleep Chan was afraid Felix might vanish. Felix didn’t move. He barely breathed. Chan was holding him.

He closed his eyes again for a second, letting himself feel it—really feel it. The security of that embrace. The heat of skin against skin. The soft, unconscious grip Chan had on him, like instinct alone was keeping him close.

And for the first time in what felt like a thousand eternities… Felix felt safe. He turned slightly in Chan’s arms, just enough to see his face. Chan was still asleep. And Felix just… stared. His heart ached with how much he loved him. It was ridiculous. Dangerous. Possibly the stupidest thing he’d ever done—but it was real. It was deep, and raw, and terrifying in its intensity. He loved him. With every scarred corner of his heart. With every broken piece he’d patched together alone. With every part of himself he hadn’t realized was still capable of believing in someone.

He reached out, brushing a soft strand of hair off Chan’s forehead. His face was so peaceful like this—unguarded. Beautiful, even with the remnants of a long night still clinging to him. His eyes were puffy from crying, his lips slightly parted in sleep, his jaw tight even now, as if he was still wrestling with demons in his dreams.

Felix’s gaze drifted down to those lips. Gods, those lips. Perfectly shaped, endlessly kissable, and already seared into his memory from the night before. He leaned in, so softly, so slowly, and pressed the faintest kiss to them. It was more instinct than decision. A whisper of a kiss. A secret.

And then—Chan smiled. Just barely. A soft, unconscious tug of his lips that made Felix’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

He knows, he thought. Even in dreams... he knows it’s me.

Felix stared at him a moment longer. He didn’t want to move. Ever. But he had to. He couldn’t be caught here in the morning. Not with the royal procession leaving soon. Not with watchful eyes lurking in every corridor. As much as it hurt, as much as he wanted to stay and watch him sleep all morning… Staying here, in Chan’s arms, wrapped in this impossible tenderness—it wasn’t safe. Someone could walk in… And that would be the end of everything.

Slowly, with all the reluctance in the world, he untangled himself from Chan’s embrace. He slid out of the bed, careful not to wake him, and stood there for a moment, watching. One last time. And then he turned and slipped out of the room, barefoot and silent, leaving behind the warmth of the man he loved.

_____________________________________________

A few hours later, Chan groaned softly as he stirred. His head felt like it had been split in half.

"Gods," he muttered into the pillow, "what the fuck did I drink?"

He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the pounding in his skull to ease. It didn’t. His mouth was dry. His stomach was angry. His brain… was fog. But there were fragments. Faint. Scattered. Felix’s voice. His hands. A kiss. The warmth of someone slipping into bed beside him.

Chan furrowed his brows. A dream? It must have been. There was no way… He rolled over onto his side and buried his face into the pillow. And there it was. That smell. Sweet. Like summer and vanilla and something undeniably Felix. For a second, he froze. Then he smiled bitterly.

"Fuck. Even my pillow smells like him now…. I’m going crazy…”

He stared at the empty space beside him. It had felt so real. The way Felix had touched him. The way he’d forgiven him. The way he’d kissed him like he meant it. He could still feel his arms around him.

Still hear his voice whispering, "“I will be your forever, my love."

Gods, what a dream. The most perfect dream he'd ever had. He exhaled, closing his eyes again. He almost didn’t want to open them. If dreaming of Felix felt that good, then what the hell was he supposed to do when he had to face him in reality?

Because in reality, Felix hated him. Should hate him. And last night, Chan had probably embarrassed himself beyond repair. Drunk. Emotional. Messy.

There was no way Felix had come to his room. No way he had forgiven him. No way he had kissed him. It was just his traitorous brain giving him hope. Giving him an illusion to cling to. He shook his head and forced himself to sit up.

Reality awaited. And so did his responsibilities. He was the Underworld’s prince. And even if he felt like shit, even if he was broken inside, he still had a crown to wear and a role to play. He dragged himself to the shower, letting the water scald away the lingering pieces of his fantasy. But even after he scrubbed his skin raw and stepped out into the cool air of the chamber, he couldn’t shake the weight in his chest.

He dressed in silence. Black velvet. Regal. Perfect. He looked every bit the prince he was supposed to be. But inside? He was just a man who’d dreamed of love, and woke up alone.

He walked to the bed once more before leaving, eyes landing on the slight dip in the pillow beside his. He reached out, brushing his fingers over it gently. And then he laughed under his breath.

“Gods, I’m pathetic.”

He turned, steeling himself, and left the room.

Because protocol awaited. The Sky Royals were leaving. And he had to be there to smile and bow and pretend everything was fine. Even if his chest still ached with the memory of a kiss that had never really happened.

______________________________

The morning was a frozen dagger outside. The breeze between the marble arches of the palace carried golden leaves as the banners of the sky fluttered proudly overhead. All members of royalty were gathered on the main staircase, bidding farewell to the Sky Kings. It was a formal scene, heavy with diplomatic smiles and empty words. But among the crowd of nobles dressed in gala, there was one prince who didn’t want to be there.

Chan. Dressed in his black ceremonial uniform, the crimson details of his demonic lineage gleamed under the sun. He stood stoic at the end of the line. His jaw clenched. His brow furrowed. His stomach in knots. Not because of the farewell. But because of him. Felix.

He saw him. Bright, sweet, shattered. He greeted his father politely and with a big smile. Then he turned and hugged his mother with tenderness, hiding in her arms for a few seconds longer than necessary. Chan wanted to scream. To run to him. To beg for forgiveness. But he didn’t.

And then it happened. Joon. That damn angel Joon appeared from behind, his stupid golden hair perfectly styled, his serene smile as if the world was perfectly fine. He approached Felix with a familiarity that felt like poison in Chan’s veins. He tucked a strand of hair behind Felix’s ear—his ear. He leaned in. Whispered something. And kissed him. On the cheek. A soft kiss. Slow. Intimate. As if there was no rush. As if he had all the time in the world to love Felix.

Felix didn’t react. He didn’t look at Chan. Not once. Chan’s stomach twisted. He scoffed, his wings tensing with rage beneath his back, hidden but sharp. He didn’t wait for the Sky Royals to finish climbing into their heavenly carriages. To hell with formalities. He turned on his heel in a furious motion and left, his footsteps echoing across the marble steps.

He wouldn’t stay to watch some idiot claim what could never be his: Felix.

__________________________________

Chan stormed out of the castle gates, fists clenched, heart thudding with frustration and confusion. The sharp cold bit into his skin, snowflakes melting the moment they hit his flushed cheeks. He didn’t care. He needed air. Space. Silence.

Or rather, he needed her. The only creature who had never judged him, never looked at him with disappointment or betrayal. The only one who knew his truth before he even spoke it.

He trudged through the snow-laden forest, boots crunching against the frozen ground, breath visible in angry puffs. His cloak flared behind him like wings of smoke. Trees bowed beneath the weight of winter, silent sentinels guiding his way. Finally, he reached it. The clearing. And there she was.

Lunarys, his dragon. Elegant. Majestic. A force of nature draped in iridescent scales that shimmered under the pale morning light. Her great head turned toward him, eyes the color of ancient moons blinking with slow understanding.

"There you are," Chan muttered, voice cracking.

She made a low rumbling sound, almost like a purr.

He stepped closer and threw his arms around her warm neck, burying his face in the space beneath her jaw. "You always understand me, don’t you?" he whispered. "Even when I don’t make sense. Even when I’m a mess."

Lunarys responded with a gentle nudge of her nose against his chest, nearly knocking him over.

Chan laughed bitterly. "I deserved that."

His voice hardened. "I told him I hated him. That he meant nothing. That I wished I hadn’t saved him from that troll. And now what? I see Joon kissing him goodbye like it means something. Like he gets to have Felix."

He pulled back, pacing in the snow, hands raking through his hair. "Of course he went to him. Joon is perfect. He’s a from the Sky. He is an angel too. He didn’t treat him like shit. He didn’t try to push him away just because he was scared."

Chan turned toward Lunarys, eyes stormy. "But did it have to be him? The golden angel that no one can compete with? Why does he get to kiss Felix goodbye like it’s nothing? Like he owns a piece of him?"

Lunarys made a soft, understanding sound. Chan sighed, folding to his knees beside her massive form.

"I had a dream," he whispered, leaning into her side. "The best dream I’ve ever had. I told him everything. That I loved him. That I’ve loved him since the moment I saw him. And he... he forgave me. He kissed me. He slept beside me. And I held him like I never wanted to let go."

Lunarys huffed warm air over him.

Chan gave her a crooked smile and nuzzled into her side. “I’m crazy… I know… But he.. He’s all light and softness. And his voice... gods, his voice. He could calm even your fire."

The warmth of Lunarys' body and the pull of exhaustion from his hangover hit him all at once. Slowly, he curled up against her stomach, cheek pressed to the softest part of her scales.

He murmured, half-asleep, "Maybe I dreamed it because it’s the only way I’ll ever get him..."

And then the world slipped away.

__________________________________

"You sleep like a rock, you know that?"

Chan stirred at the sound, a low groan escaping his throat. His head pounded mercilessly, the dull ache of a hangover blooming behind his eyes. Cold air nipped at his cheeks, but he was still warm—thanks to the massive, scaled belly of the dragon curled protectively around him. He blinked against the morning light, trying to focus.

And then he saw them. Those eyes. So achingly familiar. Bright blue, alive with something playful, sharp, and yet full of unspoken tenderness. Felix.

"Still surprises me how you survive this cold without turning into a statue."

Chan blinked again, still trying to separate dream from reality. Lunarys shifted behind him, purring.

"What... what are you doing here?" he asked, voice cracking.

Felix raised a brow, wrapped in his white fur coat, arms crossed over his chest. “Wow. No ‘good morning’? Not even a ‘how are you’? Charming.”

Chan winced. “I… I didn’t expect to see you.”

Felix gave him a crooked smile. "Came to find you. Thought you might've come here to sulk."

Chan rubbed at his face. His mouth tasted like regret. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Felix tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because I thought you’d be with Joon by now. Saying goodbye… or not saying goodbye.”

Felix smirked faintly. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw him kiss you,” Chan blurted out before he could stop himself. “On the cheek. You didn’t stop him.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed a little. “And that’s why you ran off? Because of a kiss on the cheek?”

Chan looked away. “It wasn’t just the kiss. It was you. Him. The way he looked at you.…”

A silence passed between them, thick and heavy.

Felix's expression faltered, and he understood immediately. "Wait... are you jealous?”

Chan’s jaw tightened. "Did you sleep with him? Was Joon your first—?“

Felix blinked once, then a slow, teasing smile spread across his face.

"Why? Would that bother you?"

Chan opened his mouth to respond, but the words got caught in his throat. Felix’s smile deepened.

Felix crouched down until he was eye level, resting his arms on his knees. “Want to know something interesting?”

Chan said nothing.

“Yes… I admit I slept with someone last night…I didn’t sleep alone.”

Chan’s heart plummeted like a stone in deep water. His stomach twisted. “I figured.”

Felix leaned in slightly, just enough to make Chan’s breath hitch. “His arms were strong. Steady. He held me like I was something worth protecting.”

Chan's fingers curled into fists.

Felix continued, voice deceptively gentle. “He was warm. So warm. And when I closed my eyes, I felt… safe. Like I was finally home. I felt like the world could collapse and I’d still be okay if I was there.”

“Did you…” Chan struggled to speak. “Did you have sex with him?”

Felix blinked slowly, pretending to be upset. “I’m not going to tell you about my private life, wolf from hell.”

Chan looked away, throat tight, pain flaring in his chest. Felix wasn’t done.

“I only can tell you I fell asleep in his arms,” he whispered. “And I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t want the moment to end. Because I’m in love with him.”

That was it. Chan’s world tilted. The words hit him like knives wrapped in velvet.

“I hope he knows how lucky he is,” he managed to say, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

Felix watched him quietly, gaze unreadable. “I don’t think he does. Not really.”

“Well,” Chan said bitterly, “I hope he treats you better than I did.”

A long silence.

Then Felix sighed and stood slowly. “Shame.”

Chan looked up.

Felix’s expression softened. “Because that strong, handsome, warm, protective idiot I slept with? He doesn’t remember anything. He got completely drunk, poured his heart out, told me he hated me, later that he loved me… and then passed out like a fool.”

Chan froze. Everything stopped. The air. The ache in his body. His thoughts.

“You mean…” he croaked. “That was… me?”

Felix raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Took you long enough.”

“But I—” Chan stood, breath shaky. “I thought I dreamed it. I thought I imagined you forgiving me, holding me, staying.”

“You didn’t.”

“You really were there? Last night? That wasn't… a dream?"

Felix moved even closer. His breath was warm in the freezing air.

"No dream, Chan. You came to me, drunk as hell. You told me I was beautiful. You begged me to stay. You said no one would ever love me like you do."

Chan’s face turned crimson. He sat up straighter, panic in his eyes.

"I... I said that?"

"You did."

Chan looked down at his hands, then at the snow, then back at Felix.

"And… and you stayed? Even after all the things I said at the ball? After I hurt you?"

Felix’s voice trembled slightly. "Because when you looked at me last night, I saw the real you…”

Chan swallowed hard. His heart was pounding so loud he was sure Felix could hear it.

"Felix… I—"

"You said," Felix interrupted gently, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear, "that your heart fell for me the moment you saw me."

Chan stared at him, heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered. “I thought I ruined everything.”

“You did,” Felix teased with a smile. “But lucky for you, I’m stubborn and I’m in love with a demon.”

Chan laughed—a sound full of disbelief and aching joy. “Butterfly…”

Felix stepped closer until they were nearly chest to chest. “You told me you loved me. Drunk or not, I believed you.”

“I do love you,” Chan said quickly, desperate, voice trembling. “I’ve always loved you. Even when I tried to push it down, bury it, deny it. Even when I told myself you were better off without me. I never stopped.”

Felix’s lips parted.

“I love you,” Chan said again, breathless. “I love you so much it hurts. I love your laugh, your beautiful freckles, the way you scrunch your nose like a kitten when you’re thinking. I love the way you look at the world like it still has wonder. You… Prince Felix, you’re everything.”

Tears welled in Felix’s eyes. “I’ve waited so long to hear that,” he whispered. “And I was so scared you’d never say it sober.”

Chan stepped closer, trembling hands cupping Felix’s face. “I’ll say it every day. Every minute. Every time you look at me… To hell with the rules. With our kingdoms. With my father. I’m done pretending. You’re not just a weakness. You’re everything I wish I could be. You’re light. And you make me want to be worthy of standing beside you.”

Felix let out a shaky breath, lips trembling. "I love you too, Chan. I’ve loved you even when you hurt me. Even when I hated you for a moment. I still… I couldn’t stop. You’ve haunted me. And last night, when I saw you broken and real, I knew I would never love anyone the way I love you.”

They leaned in—slowly. Reverently. Like gravity had always been pulling them toward each other. Their lips met. Soft at first. A gentle brush of skin on skin, a trembling sigh shared between them. Then again. Deeper.

Chan’s hands slid up Felix’s back, fingers threading through his golden hair. Felix’s arms circled Chan’s neck, pulling him closer as their mouths moved in perfect synchrony. Their kiss deepened, slow and aching, as if they were pouring all the unsaid things they’d kept locked away into this one moment. Felix parted his lips slightly, and Chan’s breath caught before he mirrored him. Their tongues met—tentative, warm—and Felix let out a soft moan that vibrated straight through Chan’s chest.

The world disappeared. The snow, the cold, the distant castle—none of it mattered. Only this mattered. This kiss. This love. This long, slow, burning release of everything they'd carried. Chan kissed like he was dying and Felix was oxygen. Felix kissed like he was finding home after a lifetime of wandering.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, both were breathless.

“I want to kiss you every second of my life..,” Chan whispered, voice raw.

Felix nodded, eyes still closed, smile trembling. "I never want to stop."

They stayed like that—wrapped in each other, their hearts thundering, their lips swollen, cheeks wet with happy tears.

Lunarys let out a quiet huff behind them, the only witness to their confession, her giant golden eyes soft and knowing.

"We should probably go back," Felix whispered eventually, though he didn’t move.

"Let me stay here a little longer," Chan murmured. "Just like this. Just you and me."

Felix leaned in and kissed him again—soft and lingering.

"Just us."

And in that clearing, wrapped in warmth, love, and the breathless aftermath of a kiss that changed everything—they knew. They were each other’s future... Right??

Chapter Text

The halls of the Forest King’s castle were nearly silent, wrapped in the soft golden hush of early evening. Most of the staff were busy elsewhere, preparing for the dinner in the east wing. The kitchen in the west wing, for once, was empty—quiet, waiting.

Felix and Chan walked side by side through the long corridor, their steps echoing faintly off the stone floor. Every few seconds, their eyes met—and neither could help the small smiles that bloomed between them like sparks. Chan’s fingers brushed against Felix’s once. Felix didn’t pull away. In fact, he reached for Chan’s hand—just for a second. Just long enough to say I want you without speaking.

By the time they reached the empty kitchen, the heat between them was thick, humming like tension in the air before a storm.

Felix hopped up onto the marble counter with ease, legs swinging gently. “Cozy,” he said, glancing around.

Chan stepped between his legs immediately, placing his hands on Felix’s thighs as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Not as cozy as what I’m imagining,” he murmured, voice dropping into something darker.

Felix raised a brow. “Oh? Dare I ask what that might be?”

Chan smirked. “Well… it involves this exact counter. And you. Naked.”

Felix laughed, cheeks flushed but eyes sparkling. “You’re terrible with your jokes.”

“It’s not a joke, babe…. And you like it.”

Felix wrapped his arms around Chan’s shoulders and pulled him in. “I really, really do, my horny demon.”

Their lips met in a kiss that was all heat and hunger. Chan kissed like he’d been starving for Felix for years—and maybe he had and he didn’t know it. Felix tasted like sunlight and sugar and something addictive. His fingers slid up the back of Chan’s neck, curling into his hair as he pulled him closer.

Chan groaned softly into the kiss, hips instinctively pressing forward between Felix’s thighs. “Gods, you drive me insane, prince of Heaven,” he whispered against his mouth.

Felix gasped between kisses. “Good.”

“You have no idea how perfect you look right now,” he muttered, staring down at Felix still perched on the counter like sin wrapped in sunlight. “Spread out like this. If you knew what I was thinking…”

“Tell me, your highness,” Felix dared.

“Better not,” Chan warned, gaze darkening. “My thoughts are all rated 18+.”

Felix leaned in with a smirk. “Good. Because I’m yours now, remember? You can do whatever you want with me.”

Chan’s breath hitched.

“Don’t tempt me, sunshine,” he growled. “My imagination’s already ten steps ahead.”

Their lips crashed together again—harder this time. Teeth, tongue, gasps. Felix’s legs locked around Chan’s waist, and Chan’s hands roamed up under his shirt, feeling the soft, warm skin beneath. He broke the kiss long enough to look at him, chest heaving.

“You’re so perfect it actually hurts.”

Felix smiled, slightly breathless. “My wolf from hell is so cheesy.”

Chan did. Again. And again. Until both of them were flushed and panting and dizzy with each other. But then— Chan’s forehead fell gently to Felix’s, and the air between them shifted.

“We can’t keep doing this without talking, butterfly with freckles,” he said quietly.

Felix’s arms stayed wrapped around him. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?.”

Chan hesitated. “We want this. That much is obvious.”

Felix nodded. “So obvious.…”

“I love you,” Chan said, eyes locking with his. “That’s not a question. It’s a fact.”

Felix’s breath caught, and his smile softened. “Good. Because I love you too.”

Those words—spoken aloud now, finally—hung between them like a vow.

“But…” Chan swallowed. “No one can know.”

Felix nodded slowly. “I know.”

“You’re the prince of the Sky Kingdom,” Chan said. “I’m the prince of the Underworld. Our realms have been enemies for generations. My people… they wouldn’t forgive this.”

“Neither would mine,” Felix whispered.

“If they find out about us—”

“They’ll tear us apart,” Felix finished, eyes sad but steady. “Or worse.”

Chan cupped his cheek gently. “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you because of me, my angel.”

Felix leaned into the touch. “So we keep it between us.”

Chan nodded. “Only us. Nobody. Not even our friends.”

Felix’s brows furrowed. “You don’t trust your friends? I trust Hyunjin, Jisung and I.N.”

Chan hesitated. “I do. But they’re demons. They still answer to my father. Until I’m king… I can’t risk them choosing loyalty to the throne over loyalty to me… and my friends are a lot with your friends and if someone said something….”

Felix pressed his forehead to Chan’s again. “Then it’s our secret.”

“Our beautiful, dangerous secret.”

Chan ran his fingers through Felix’s golden hair, then tucked a strand behind his ear. “You’d make a terrible spy, you know. You blush every time I look at you.”

“I do not,” Felix laughed.

“You do. Right now, even.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Maybe because you’re standing between my legs whispering about that you want me naked on the counter.” Felix bit his lip. “I want to hear all the things you want to do to me.”

Chan’s eyes glinted. “Want me to list them?”

Felix pulled him even closer with his legs, lips brushing his ear. “Only if you plan to follow through.”

Chan groaned. “You are going to be the death of me, firefly.”

“I hope so.”

That made Chan laugh—an actual, full laugh—and then he silenced them both with another kiss. This time slower. Deeper. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was reverent. His hands found Felix’s waist and held him like something precious.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Chan whispered. “You. Me. Here.”

Felix smiled against his lips. “It’s real. Even if no one else can ever know.”

Their kiss deepened again, full of unspoken promises. Chan pulled Felix to the edge of the counter and stepped even closer, chest pressed to chest, every breath shared. When they finally pulled apart, Chan kept his hands where they were.

“I’m yours, demon,” Felix said softly. “Completely.”

Chan leaned down, lips barely grazing his.

“And I’m yours, my angel.”

Felix smiled looking at Chan with heart eyes. Chan smiled at him.

“Come on. Get off the counter, and then I’m making you hot chocolate. And then—”

Felix raised a brow. “And then?”

Chan smirked. “And then I’m watching you drink it with those sinful lips while I fantasize about doing things that would definitely get me banned from Heaven permanently.”

Felix grinned, cheeks pink. “You’ve already been banned.”

“I know…”

____________________________________

Felix didn’t remember much about the walk back to his room. He was floating. Drifting through the dim, golden-lit corridors of the Forest King’s castle like he was caught in a dream he never wanted to wake from.

Chan…

His mind repeated the name over and over, a quiet prayer, a sweet intoxication. All he could think about was Chan’s smile—the one that tilted just a little to the side and made his knees feel weak. His warm brown eyes, so deep they felt like they could drown him. The way his lips looked now, slightly swollen from all the kissing, flushed and perfect.

Chan.

A warmth spread through Felix’s chest that had nothing to do with the firelight and everything to do with the fact that the man he was hopelessly in love with loved him back. Not liked. Not desired. Loved. He was giddy. Euphoric.

And yet… there was the other side. Because what they were doing—it wasn’t just risky. It was like playing poker with the gods themselves. They were the sons of two realms born to be enemies. The Sky Kingdom and the Underworld had hated each other for generations. They weren’t destined to meet, let alone fall in love. And yet here they were, tangled in something dangerous and beautiful and utterly impossible.

Felix knew the odds. He knew they were walking a tightrope over fire. But he also knew that if loving Chan meant burning, he’d walk it barefoot. Because Chan wasn’t the Prince of the Underworld to him. Chan was the man who made him melt with a single look. The man who loved him for Felix, not for the title, not for the crown, not for the political advantage. Just him.

When Felix finally reached his chambers, he let himself fall backward onto the bed with a sigh, arms spread wide, grinning like a fool. The knock on the door startled him.

“Come in,” Felix called, still smiling.

Hyunjin stepped in, closing the door behind him. Without a word, he crossed the room and pulled Felix into a hug.

Felix blinked in surprise, wrapping his arms around his friend. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“It’s… it’s Changbin,” Hyunjin murmured.

Felix’s eyes narrowed instantly. “What did that damned demon do to you? Tell me right now, Hyunjin. If he’s hurt you, I swear I’ll—”

Hyunjin shook his head quickly. “No! It’s the opposite.”

Felix pulled back just enough to look at him. “The opposite?”

Hyunjin sighed, his expression conflicted. “He’s… he’s so kind to me, Felix. Sweet. Gentle. He treats me like I’m made of glass, like I’m… precious. And I think I’m starting to feel things for him.”

Felix froze, processing.

“I know I’m not supposed to,” Hyunjin continued quickly. “I know I shouldn’t look at a demon with anything other than hatred or—at most—mild amusement. But every time I’m in his bed and—”

Felix cut him off sharply. “Wait. Wait, wait, in his bed? You and him…?”

Hyunjin’s cheeks turned scarlet as he looked down at the floor. “…Yes.”

Felix’s mouth fell open. “You slept together?”

“…Eh…. yes,” Hyunjin admitted quietly. “We’ve made love.”

Felix groaned, running a hand down his face. “Okay… well… I mean… a slip can happen to anyone when they’re around these ridiculously sexy demons.”

Hyunjin lifted his gaze, his eyes soft. “It wasn’t just a slip. Felix… we’ve… done it almost every day.”

Felix’s eyes went wide. “Every—Hyunjin—”

“You don’t understand,” Hyunjin rushed on, his voice low and almost reverent. “The way he kisses me, Felix… the way he touches me. His skin is so warm it’s like sunlight, and when he whispers in my ear—”

Felix immediately thought of Chan. That’s exactly what it’s like for me.

“—and his body—” Hyunjin was still talking, almost dreamily, “—he’s so strong. He can hold me down with one arm, flip me over like I weigh nothing, and don’t even get me started on what he can do with his tongue—”

Felix slapped his hands over his ears. “Enough! I don’t need to know the details of my best friend’s sex life with a demon!”

Hyunjin just smirked faintly but pulled him back into another hug.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin murmured. “For being so harsh with you before. When you told me about Chan… I told you to stop thinking about him, to let it go. But now… I guess karma’s laughing at me. I’m in the same position as you.”

Felix huffed a laugh. “Well… not exactly the same. I haven’t slept with Chan yet.”

Hyunjin pulled back, lifting a brow. “Yet?”

Felix froze. “…I didn’t say that.”

“You did say that,” Hyunjin said, smirking knowingly.

“No… you heard wrong.” Felix quickly changed the subject. “Anyway—”

But Hyunjin wasn’t finished. “I hate these damned rules,” he said, suddenly serious. “Rules that tell us we can never love a demon. Felix… when you’re king, promise me something.”

Felix tilted his head. “What?”

“Change it. Change the law. End the hatred between the Sky Kingdom and the Underworld.” His eyes were pleading now. “No one should have to feel ashamed of who they love.”

Felix’s throat tightened. He nodded silently. It was almost laughable. Just weeks ago, before meeting Chan, his plan as king would have been to destroy the Underworld entirely—wipe it from existence. Now?

Now he dreamed of uniting the realms. Of peace. Of harmony. Of standing beside Chan openly, crowned not just as a ruler, but as his husband.

But that… that was only a fantasy. And fantasies never lasted.

__________________________________

Dinner in the great hall was… dangerous. Not because of the food, or the company, but because Felix couldn’t stop looking at him. Every time he lifted his gaze from his plate, Chan’s eyes were already on him—warm, soft, and full of the kind of affection that made Felix’s stomach twist pleasantly. Sometimes Chan’s mouth curved into the smallest, most secretive smile, like they were sharing a joke no one else in the room could hear.

Felix tried to focus on eating, but each glance, each smile felt like a brush of fingers over his skin. Stop looking at me like that, Felix thought, biting back his own smile. We’re going to get caught.

Chan’s foot brushed against his under the table. Accidentally. Probably. Felix’s heart stuttered.

It was in the middle of this unspoken conversation between their eyes that the Forest King rose from his seat. The chatter in the hall fell silent.

“In four weeks,” the King’s deep voice boomed, “once the snow has melted from the valley, a new competition will be held.”

The room rippled with whispers.

“This time,” the King continued, his gaze sweeping across the gathered guests, “the trial will be far more demanding than before. It will decide the kingdom’s strongest… and my ally in the war to come.”

Felix’s head snapped toward Chan.

The last set of trials had almost killed them both. Survival in the cursed forest. Fighting a mountain troll. Now the King was saying more demanding? Chan’s jaw was tight, but he didn’t look away from Felix. They didn’t need words; the memory of the pain, the blood, the terror was still too fresh. Both of them swallowed hard. The King took his seat again, the hall buzzing with speculation.

___________________________________

Later, the entire group crowded into Chan’s room.

Changbin, Minho and Seungmin were sitting on the right. Hyunjin, Jisung and I.N. sitting on the left. And between them, two princes who had already survived the impossible—and were about to be tested again.

“So,” Minho began, sprawled across a chair like he owned it, “what do we think? Another survival thing? Or maybe… a duel to the death?”

“Cheery,” Seungmin muttered.

Hyunjin’s nose wrinkled. “We already did survival. And we fought the troll. What else is left?”

“Could be physical endurance,” Changbin said, his mouth curling into something dangerous. Then his gaze slid to Chan with an all-too-innocent expression. “Like… having to stand in front of Felix while he’s totally naked, and not touching yourself.”

Felix choked. “What the hell, Bin—”

But Minho was already grinning like the devil himself. “Or maybe the other way around. Chan naked, Felix having to hold back.”

The pillow hit Minho square in the face. The room erupted in laughter.

“Not a bad trial,” Chan said casually, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, like he wasn’t throwing gasoline on a fire. “But let’s be honest—Felix would lose in two seconds.”

Felix’s pulse spiked. He tried to glare, tried to hide the heat in his cheeks. “I’d win. Easily.”

Chan’s eyes glinted. “If you saw my body—” his voice dropped lower, intimate, taunting— “every line of muscle, every scar, every inch of me… totally naked… you’d cum without me even touching you, sunshine.”

The demons howled with laughter, whistles and crude comments filling the air.

Felix’s mouth dropped open. “Wow. Someone’s feeling confident tonight… your highness.”

Chan smirked. “If you want, we could… train for that trial. Right now. Just to see who’d win.”

I.N. threw his hands up, stepping between them. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to see either of you naked. Ever.”

“Speak for yourself,” Minho said lazily, earning a smack from Seungmin.

The teasing continued, demons tossing filthy suggestions, angels firing back with sass. But through it all, Felix could feel Chan’s gaze on him like a hand sliding down his spine.

The laughter was loud, but under it, there was something else—heat, danger, and the knowledge that the next trials could break them. And yet… with every look, every smirk, Felix knew one thing for certain: He would face anything the Forest King threw at them. As long as Chan was by his side.

The room was a storm of laughter and shameless comments.

“You know,” Changbin began, leaning back with his arms behind his head, “I still think the trial could be fucking each other and no one can cum. Pure mental torture.”

“Or,” Minho interrupted with a smirk, “it could be seeing who lasts longer while the other one whispers very dirty things in their ear.”

Jisung groaned. “Why are all of your suggestions about getting naked or having sex?”

“Because it works,” Minho said, completely unapologetic.

“Or…” Seungmin’s voice was low, deliberately slow, “…maybe they make Felix sit in Chan’s lap for hours without moving while Chan gets to do whatever he wants—”

“OH MY GOD.” Jisung clapped his hands over his ears. “Stop! Please! Some of us are still pure!”

“Pure?” Minho scoffed. “You? Sure.”

Felix laughed, shaking his head, but every so often, his eyes slid toward Chan. And Chan… Chan was looking right back at him. Each stolen glance was a spark in the air, setting fire to every innocent word the others spoke. They didn’t need to touch to feel it. And in between the roaring laughter, Felix noticed something else.

Hyunjin, leaning just a bit too close to Changbin, his eyes soft in a way Felix hadn’t seen before. Jisung stealing glances at Minho, cheeks pink whenever their eyes met. And I.N.… smiling without even trying when Seungmin looked his way. Oh, no. It hit Felix like a falling brick. They’re all falling. All of them. Sliding down a slope toward the same dangerous edge he’d already thrown himself over without hesitation. Straight into the arms of demons they were raised to despise.

When the laughter finally dulled under the weight of yawns and drooping eyelids, they decided it was time to go. Everyone began shuffling out of Chan’s room… except Felix, who stayed perched on the bed.

“Aren’t you coming?” Jisung asked from the doorway.

Before Felix could answer, Minho spoke for him. “Guess not. He’s staying to train with Chan, remember? You know, the ‘see who lasts longer naked’ thing.”

Felix laughed, shaking his head. “Keep dreaming, Minho… That’s never going to happen…. I’m just staying to talk about the competition, maybe figure out the possible trials, make a training schedule. Prince to prince business.”

Changbin’s grin was all teeth. “Aahh ok, ok… If it’s prince to prince business… then sure.” His voice turned loud enough for the whole hall to hear. “Just don’t make him moan too loud, Chan. These stone walls carry sound, and my room’s right next door.”

“Oh my god!” Felix covered his face with his hands, mortified. Chan just laughed, shaking his head.

Once the door closed and the hallway fell silent, Felix turned slowly toward him, his expression soft, almost shy. Chan’s smile gentled instantly. Felix stepped closer, hands sliding up to rest on Chan’s neck. His lips brushed the side of his throat in a slow, tender kiss. Chan’s breath caught, his body going still.

“Can I sleep here?,” Felix whispered against his skin.

Chan’s hand came up, fingers curling under Felix’s chin, guiding his gaze upward. His other hand settled on Felix’s waist, holding him close. “Don’t ever—ever—ask me that,” he murmured. “You already belong here. With me. I don’t want to spend a single night without the most beautiful angel in my arms.”

Felix’s lips grazed Chan’s, so close but not quite touching. Then Chan scooped him up—effortlessly, like Felix weighed nothing. Felix gasped in surprise, arms instinctively wrapping around Chan’s shoulders. The demon carried him to the bed like he was something precious, setting him down with impossible care.

Chan stripped off his shirt and pants, left only in black briefs. “Gotta sleep without clothes… you know,” he explained casually. “Helps with… the heat in my veins.”

Felix’s mouth curved knowingly. “I remember. Three days in the forest, you holding me all night.”

Chan’s eyes softened. “This is just to make sure you understand… I’m not going to try anything. Not until you want it.”

Felix pulled him down until Chan’s body covered his, their legs tangling in the sheets. His eyes shimmered in the dim light. “Has anyone told you,” Felix whispered, “that you have the most beautiful heart in the world? That you respect my fears… and you’re patient with me?… That heart that you say is damaged because it feels too much is the one that made my heart fall madly in love.”

Chan’s voice was low, almost reverent. “My heart isn’t mine anymore. It belongs to you. Completely.”

Felix’s vision blurred with tears, and before he could stop himself, he kissed him. Deeply. Desperately. Like he was trying to pour every ounce of love he carried into Chan’s mouth.

He was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with this demon. He wanted a life with him. A family. A throne they could share. His mother had once told him he’d find the love of his life among the angels. But she was wrong. Felix had found his soulmate in the underworld. And he would fight for him until his last breath.

They lay tangled together beneath the blankets, the world outside fading until only the rhythm of their breaths remained. The soft fabric cocooned them in warmth, shutting out every danger, every reason they shouldn’t be here.

Chan’s fingertips traced slow, reverent paths along Felix’s spine, memorizing each curve, each shiver. Felix’s lips brushed the hollow of Chan’s throat, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses down to his collarbone.

“I think you were made for me,” Chan whispered, his voice breaking just enough to make Felix’s chest ache. “I’ve searched my whole life without knowing what I was looking for… and then I found you.”

Felix’s eyes stung. He pressed his lips to Chan’s cheek, then to the corner of his mouth. “If I could live a thousand lifetimes, I’d still choose this one. This exact moment. You.”

Chan smiled faintly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Felix’s face. “You make me want things I never thought I could have. A home. A future. Peace.”

“You are my peace,” Felix breathed, and the truth of it felt like it might split him open.

They kissed again—slow, lingering, like the night itself was holding its breath for them. Chan’s mouth moved to Felix’s jaw, then to his shoulder, leaving soft, worshipful touches of lips against skin. Felix’s fingers threaded through Chan’s hair, holding him there like he might vanish.

“I love you,” Chan murmured against his skin.

“I love you more,” Felix answered, a smile trembling on his lips.

“Impossible.”

They stayed like that, trading quiet confessions between kisses on the curve of a hip, the slope of a shoulder, the warm line of a neck. Every touch was careful, patient, a promise wrapped in tenderness.

Eventually, Chan gathered Felix into his arms, pulling the blanket higher until they were lost in their own little world. Their legs tangled naturally, fitting together like they’d always belonged this way. Felix tucked his face into the crook of Chan’s neck, breathing in his scent until his own heartbeat slowed to match the steady rhythm beneath his ear.

Chan pressed one last kiss to Felix’s hair. “Sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Felix’s hand found Chan’s under the blanket, fingers weaving together as his eyes drifted shut. The last thing he felt before sleep claimed him was the gentle squeeze of Chan’s hand—wordless, unshakable, and full of love.

And in that quiet, wrapped in each other’s arms, they both knew: no matter the danger, no matter the cost, they had found the one place in the world they were truly safe.

Chapter Text

The first thing Chan became aware of was warmth. Not the kind that came from the heavy furs piled over him, but a living, breathing warmth that fit perfectly against the curve of his body. The second thing was the smell. Sweet. Sweet in a way that made his chest ache, like honey laced with vanilla. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to know. Felix.

The angel was curled against him, head tucked beneath Chan’s chin, one arm thrown over his waist, and a bare leg tangled over his thigh like it had every right to be there. His golden hair, messy from sleep, brushed against Chan’s neck and cheek, and every time he exhaled, Chan felt the gentle warmth of his breath against his skin.

Chan lay there for a long moment, simply breathing him in. He knew he should probably move, get up, do something practical — but the thought of leaving this bed, of letting the cold morning air touch either of them, felt like a crime.

Finally, he cracked one eye open. The morning light was just starting to spill through the narrow window, painting everything in a soft glow. Felix’s face was relaxed, lips parted slightly in sleep, and—God—he was smiling. Just a little curve of his mouth, like his dreams were kind to him.

Chan’s gaze traveled slowly, memorizing the slope of his small nose, the scatter of freckles across his cheeks, the delicate flutter of long lashes. His lips, soft and pink, were the kind of lips Chan had always considered his undoing. His hair — a mess, yes, but a beautiful one — fell partly over his forehead, partly over Chan’s arm. He wanted to kiss every inch of him. Every freckle, every eyelid, every corner of his mouth. He wanted to pull him closer until there was no space left between them. But instead, Chan just watched, greedy for the sight of him, silently wondering what he was dreaming about.

Felix stirred, a soft sigh escaping him before he stretched, catlike, arching his back and brushing his leg more firmly against Chan’s. Slowly, his eyes cracked open — one first, the other lagging behind — and he peered up at Chan with a sleepy grin.

“Were you watching me sleep?” he asked, voice husky from sleep. “That’s… a little creepy, you know.”

Chan smirked. “Creepy? Nah. Appreciating the view? Absolutely. You’re dangerously pretty in the morning.”

Felix’s grin widened. “Dangerously?”

“Mm-hmm.” Chan’s gaze dropped briefly to his lips, then back up. “One wrong move, and I might do something we can’t take back.”

Felix rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Oh no. How terrible.”

Then, without warning, he shifted — rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up until he was straddling Chan’s hips, his knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him. The blanket slipped down, revealing the smooth expanse of his pale thighs. Chan’s breath caught instantly.

Felix tilted his head, pretending to study him. “Like this?”

Chan swallowed. “Felix…”

“What?” Felix’s tone was pure mischief. He leaned forward slightly, placing his palms flat against Chan’s bare chest. His touch was light, but it burned.

Chan’s muscles tensed under his fingers.

Felix’s hands began to wander slowly downward, tracing over each line of muscle until they hovered just above Chan’s abs. His eyes flicked up to meet Chan’s. “Wow. Can I kiss you here?”

Chan’s jaw tightened. “Don’t—”

Felix pressed his lips lightly against the firm muscle, watching Chan’s breath stutter. “You stopped breathing.”

Chan forced air into his lungs. “Because you’re playing with fire.”

“That’s funny,” Felix whispered, fingertips moving lower still, “I thought you were the fire.”

Chan’s hands curled into the sheets. “Felix…”

Felix just grinned. “See? I knew I could make the big scary wolf from hell forget how to breathe.”

Chan lay perfectly still, hands by his sides. “You know… you’re killing me here. I’m afraid to touch you.”

Felix tilted his head, smiling slyly. “You can touch whatever you want. I’m yours.”

Chan’s jaw tightened. “That’s the problem. I’m afraid if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

Felix bit his lip, reached for Chan’s hand, and guided it to the small of his back. Then, without breaking eye contact, he slowly dragged Chan’s hand lower—over the curve of his ass, down to his thigh. All while pressing soft kisses along Chan’s neck.

Chan’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure Felix could feel it. He let out a breathy laugh. “Didn’t know angels were capable of tempting someone into falling like this.”

Felix grinned. “I need my morning love-and-kiss session. And as my boyfriend, it’s your job to give it to me.”

Chan’s hand tightened gently on Felix’s thigh. “Boyfriend… I like how that sounds coming from your mouth.”

They stayed there for several minutes, trading kisses that made them both smile against each other’s lips, pausing to laugh or whisper something teasing.

“You’re evil,” Chan muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

Felix tilted his head. “Evil? I’m an angel. I’m just… enthusiastic in the mornings.”

“Enthusiastic is one word for it,” Chan said dryly, though his heart was hammering so hard it hurt.

Felix leaned down until their noses brushed. “You love it.”

Chan didn’t deny it. Couldn’t.

Instead, Felix laughed softly, brushing his lips over Chan’s once, twice, before sitting back up again. He stayed straddling him, fingers lazily tracing over the sharp lines of Chan’s abs, and it took every ounce of self-control Chan had not to flip them over and pin him to the mattress.

They stayed like that for a while — soft kisses, playful whispers, Felix’s touches skimming dangerously close to the edge of Chan’s sanity — until Chan finally glanced at the small clock on the wall.

“It’s six,” he said reluctantly. “I have to get up. Lunarys is probably pacing already.”

Felix pouted but nodded.

“Come with me, butterfly?” Chan asked with a smile.

“Of course,” Felix replied. “But I need to run to my room to change. I’m not going out in snow wearing shorts.”

Chan wrapped his arms around him tightly. “Don’t want to let you go yet.”

Felix kissed him softly. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you at the entrance.”

Before Chan could grab him again, Felix slipped off the bed, padding barefoot to the door. The hall outside was dim and quiet, shadows pooling along the stone floor. Felix jogged toward his room, rubbing his arms against the slight chill. But just as he reached his door, another door down the hall creaked open.

Felix turned — and froze. Minho stepped out of Jisung’s room. For a full five seconds, they just stared at each other, both wide-eyed.

“What are you doing here, demon?” Felix asked.

Minho was nervous. “No…nothing.”

Then Felix’s brain caught up, and his mouth moved before he could stop it. “Oh my God. You slept with Jisung.”

Minho blinked. “No. I did not.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “You’re leaving his room at six in the morning.”

“I was… passing by,” Minho said flatly.

Felix crossed his arms. “At six in the morning?”

Minho hesitated. “…Yes.” He looked at him. “And where exactly are you coming from?” His eyes narrowed. “From the north wing, hmm?”

Felix’s mind raced for an excuse. “Running,” he blurted. “I just finished my ten-kilometer morning run.”

Minho’s expression was skeptical. “Running? In pajama shorts?”

“Yup,” Felix said with a perfectly straight face. “It’s the new trend. Wake up, jog in pajamas. Builds character. And frostbite.”

Minho stared at him. “…You’re ridiculous.”

Felix stammered, “I'm in a hurry now…. But when I get back, we’re having a conversation about this.” He gestured between Minho and the closed door of Jisung’s room.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Minho replied too quickly.

“Oh, there’s definitely something to talk about,” Felix said, smirking. “But I’ve got somewhere to be.” He turned toward his room.

Minho tilted his head. “Somewhere to be, huh? With who?”

Felix paused. “…Someone.”

“That’s suspicious.”

“No… nothing is suspicious.”

Minho’s mouth curved into a slow grin. “Yes. Your Majesty.” He gave a mock bow before turning and walking toward the south wing.

Felix opened his door — but just as Minho reached the far corner, his voice echoed back down the hall.

“Oh, and Felix?”

Felix looked over his shoulder.

“Say hi to Chan for me when you meet him now.”

Felix’s cheeks burned hot. He slammed his door shut. Minho knew. He definitely knew.

_______________________________

The forest was still wrapped in silence when Chan and Felix stepped outside. A blanket of fresh snow covered the ground, sparkling under the pale blush of the rising sun. The air was sharp enough to bite, the kind that turned each breath into a puff of white mist.

Felix’s gloved hand was warm in Chan’s, their fingers laced as they walked down the narrow path toward the tree line. He was bundled in a thick cream-colored coat, the hood lined with fur, his cheeks already tinged pink from the cold.

Chan, in contrast, wore only a black compression shirt that clung to every defined line of muscle, steam rising faintly from his skin in the freezing air. Felix had tried to argue for a jacket, but Chan had only grinned and said, “Cold doesn’t bother me. You do.”

Now, watching Felix move through the snow, Chan felt heat coil low in his chest. The white around them made him glow—every step was like watching a scene from a dream.

“God,” Chan murmured, his gaze sliding shamelessly over him, “you look so good right now I could pin you down in the snow and…” He trailed off, his smirk turning wicked.

Felix’s cheeks went a deeper shade of red. “You keep saying things like that, one day I’ll actually give you what you keep asking for, your highness.”

That wiped the smirk clean off Chan’s face. “Wait—no, I didn’t mean to—Felix, I wasn’t trying to pressure you. It just… my mouth works faster than my brain sometimes… I’m just joking.”

Felix stopped walking and turned to face him, boots crunching in the snow. His eyes locked on Chan’s, steady and warm.

“I’m not joking,” Felix said softly. His voice was low, almost intimate in the still morning air. “When I think about you… it’s not just about wanting you here, in the snow. I think about you in my bed. Under my sheets. Surrounded by warmth. Your voice saying beautiful things in my ear. Your kisses all over me. And…” He hesitated, biting his lip before finishing, “…you inside me.”

Chan’s throat went dry. He swallowed hard, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Felix’s gaze softened. “I just… need a little more confidence. I’m not like you, Chan. I’m an angel. I’m… different. I don’t want you to rej—”

He didn’t get to finish. Chan reached up, placing a finger gently against his lips.

“Stop,” Chan said firmly, his eyes searching Felix’s. “You are the most beautiful being in the world. There has never been, and never will be, anyone as perfect as you. If you think for even a second that I could ever reject you for your body, you’re dead wrong. I could never—ever—hate anything about you. I’m in love with every single cell in your body, every pore of your skin. And when you’re ready… I’ll show you. I’ll kiss every inch of you until there’s not a single spot I haven’t touched with my lips.”

Felix shivered, the kind that had nothing to do with the cold. He bit his lip again, but this time it was to keep from smiling too much.

Chan let the moment hang, then broke it with a sharp whistle. From between the snow-laden trees, a shape appeared—sleek, silver, and beautiful. Lunarys. Her scales shimmered in the dawn light like liquid moonlight, each step slow and graceful. She didn’t head for Chan. She went straight for Felix.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Felix laughed, reaching out to cradle her muzzle in his hands. He kissed the cool surface of her snout, giggling when her warm breath puffed against his face.

“Hey!” Chan protested. “Excuse me. I’m your father, little traitor.”

Lunarys made a deep, throaty sound that could almost be mistaken for a laugh.

Felix turned back to Chan with a grin. “She says you’re her dad… but now I’m also her mother. And we have the most beautiful daughter in the world.”

Chan just watched them, and something inside him ached. His mind painted a picture he could never quite hold onto—Felix and him in a world where it was possible to have a family. Little princes and princesses racing through castle halls, Felix’s laughter echoing while they ruled side by side. God, what he wouldn’t give for that life. But fate was cruel, and that vision would always stay locked in his mind.

He cleared his throat. “Then you stay here with our daughter. I’ll see if I can find a deer or something.”

Felix raised a brow but nodded. “Don’t be long.”

When Chan left to hunt, Felix knelt beside Lunarys as she lowered her great head to his level. Her silver scales shimmered like ice under morning sun, and her intelligent eyes regarded him with quiet curiosity.

“You know,” Felix began softly, running a gloved hand along her smooth jawline, “Channie is… the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met.”

Lunarys gave a low, rumbling sound.

“I mean it,” Felix said, smiling. “He’s strong, yes. Brave, of course. But… he’s gentle. He sees people—the real them. He sees me. And I’ve never felt safer than I do when he’s beside me. He has the most beautiful heart. I…” His voice faltered for a moment. “I love him. More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.”

The dragon blinked slowly, almost like she understood.

“You’ll keep him safe for me, won’t you?” Felix asked, his hand still on her muzzle. “Because I can’t imagine this world without him in it.”

Lunarys exhaled a warm breath over him, and Felix smiled, his chest feeling a little lighter.

Half an hour later, the quiet was broken by the crunch of heavy footsteps. Felix turned—and his jaw dropped. Chan was dragging the body of a full-grown reindeer through the snow. Felix’s mind flashed back to the forest trial, when Chan had disappeared and returned with freshly caught birds, just to make sure Felix wouldn’t go hungry. His chest tightened.

Lunarys clearly didn’t care about sentiment. The second she saw the reindeer, she bounded toward Chan, letting out a low rumble before giving him a nudge with her head. Then she lowered herself and began tearing into the prey like she hadn’t eaten in years.

Felix laughed. “She’s like a giant cat.”

Chan came up behind him, looping his arms around Felix’s waist. His chin rested against Felix’s shoulder, and he pressed soft kisses into the curve of his neck.

“You’re a little bit cold and… beautiful…,” Chan murmured. “…And perfect. And the only thing I want to look at right now.”

Felix turned in his arms, resting his hands over Chan’s shoulders. “Before we came out here… I saw Minho.”

Chan’s brows rose. “Yeah?”

“He was leaving Jisung’s room.”

That earned a laugh from Chan. “That little devil… I think he’s in love with Jisung.”

Felix smirked. “I’ll confirm later. I’ve got a conversation pending with him. But—” He hesitated, biting his lip. “He also guessed I’d slept with you.”

Chan’s expression sobered. “Ooohh shit… We have to be careful.”

Felix nodded… then softened his gaze, looking up through his lashes. “I know… But please… even if we have to hide it, I want to sleep with you every night. Please. I need you…”

Chan cupped his cheek, smiling faintly. “You know I can’t say no when you look at me like that, angel.” He kissed Felix gently. “Of course we will. Every night. You’re my peace, Felix. My quiet in the chaos.”

Felix buried his face into the crook of Chan’s neck, inhaling his scent with a smile. For now, that was enough.

________________________________

They were nearing the castle gates now. Without a word, both of them let their hands slip apart, fingers lingering for the briefest second before separating completely. It was time to put their masks back on.

The great carved doors loomed ahead, guarded by two forest sentinels in green and gold armor. Standing between them was the Forest King himself, his expression unreadable beneath the crown of woven branches and silver leaves.

As they approached, the King’s sharp eyes shifted between them. “Where have you two been?”

Chan bowed his head slightly. “I went to feed my dragon, your highness,” he said smoothly, “when I was unfortunately interrupted by the Sky Prince during his morning run. I was enjoying a perfectly peaceful moment with Lunarys, but of course, the angel had to ruin it.”

Felix’s lips twitched. “I run that path every morning. It’s not my fault the demon decided to loiter in the middle of it.”

Chan smirked. “Loiter? Feeding my dragon is hardly loitering. But I suppose your royal highness thinks every road belongs to him.”

“Oh, please,” Felix shot back. “If I wanted to own something, it wouldn’t be a muddy forest trail with demon tracks all over it.”

For them, the sharp words were a game—a dangerous, delicious one—but a game nonetheless.

“Enough.” The King’s voice cut through their mock bickering. “You both know what I seek here is peace, not childish attacks.”

They both straightened and murmured respectful acknowledgments, though Chan couldn’t help flicking a glance at Felix, and Felix couldn’t help returning it—just for a heartbeat—before looking back at the King.

“Felix,” the King said, turning his full attention to him. “I need a word.”

Felix stepped forward. “Of course.”

“You’ll need to return to your kingdom tomorrow for a few weeks.”

From the side, Chan blurted out, “What??”

The King’s gaze snapped to him, and Chan immediately schooled his face into a grin. “Oh—uh, great! That means I don’t have to see the angel’s face for a while. Lucky me.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at him in mock offense before focusing on the King. “May I ask why?”

“Your father sent a message in the night,” the King explained. “He and the Queen have been summoned to the Water Kingdom for a diplomatic matter. Your kingdom cannot be left without a ruler during these uncertain times, in case war breaks out. You will be acting in their stead until their return. I was asked to prepare you for departure.”

Felix nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“I will have everything ready by morning,” the King said. “And I will await your return with anticipation.”

They bowed formally to one another, exchanging the expected courtesies.

Felix and Chan stepped inside the castle, walking in silence down one of the side corridors. Their steps echoed against the stone until they reached a turn in the hall, where the shadows pooled and there was no one in sight. That’s when Chan’s hand shot out, pulling Felix against the wall.

Felix’s breath caught, his back pressed against the cold stone, the chill biting through his clothes—though it was nothing compared to the heat suddenly radiating from the man before him. Before he could speak, Chan almost closed the distance, one hand braced against the wall beside Felix’s head, the other settling at his waist. His face was so close Felix could feel the warmth of his breath on his lips, could see the way his dark eyes shimmered, fierce and tender all at once.

“Do you have any idea,” Chan murmured, his voice low, trembling with emotion, “what you’re doing to me right now?”

Felix’s pulse thudded in his ears. “I’m… standing here,” he whispered back, trying for lightness, but his voice wavered.

“No.” Chan’s fingers slid slowly along Felix’s jaw, his thumb brushing the soft skin beneath his ear. “You’re leaving me. And I’m losing my mind because of it.”

Felix swallowed, every nerve alive under Chan’s touch. “It’s only for a few days.”

Chan leaned closer, their noses brushing, breaths mingling. “A few weeks without you is too long, Lix. You have no idea how empty it feels when you’re not by my side. I wake up, and you’re the first thought in my head. I fall asleep, and you’re the last. And now I have to go without that… without you?”

Felix’s chest ached, and his hands rose instinctively to rest against Chan’s chest. The steady beat of his heart thundered beneath his palm. “I’ll come back to you. I promise, my demon.”

“That’s not the problem.” Chan’s voice broke, and he tilted his head so his forehead rested against Felix’s. “The problem is that when you’re gone, I can’t touch you. Can’t hear your laugh. Can’t see your face when I tease you. I hate that.”

Felix’s lips parted, his breath shallow. “Chan…”

Chan’s hand moved from Felix’s jaw to cradle the back of his neck, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “I’m yours, my firefly with freckles. Every part of me belongs to you. I’d give up everything just to keep you here with me.”

“And I’m yours, Channie… Say it out loud... say I'm yours," Felix demanded.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, the words not a demand, but a confession—soft, raw, desperate.

Felix’s knees almost gave out. “You’re making it impossible to leave.”

“Good,” Chan said, his lips so close they almost touched. “I want you to think of me every second you’re gone. I want you to miss me so much it hurts. Because that’s exactly how I’m going to feel.”

Felix’s hands slid up to Chan’s shoulders, gripping him tightly. “You’re not making this easier.”

“I don’t want it to be easy,” Chan murmured, his voice shaking now. “I want it to matter. I want you to know that there’s no one else I could ever want.”

Felix let out a shaky laugh, though his eyes glistened. “You really are hopeless.”

Chan’s gaze dropped to his lips. “Hopelessly in love with you.”

Felix felt the world tilt. “Kiss me,” he breathed.

Chan didn’t hesitate. His lips met Felix’s in a kiss that was deep from the very first moment, not rushed, but deliberate—like he was memorizing the shape, the taste, the feeling. One hand slid into Felix’s hair, the other pressed at the small of his back, pulling him closer until there wasn’t a breath between them.

Felix kissed him back with equal fervor, his fingers curling in the fabric of Chan’s shirt. The warmth of him, the steady strength in his arms, the way he tasted—it all made Felix dizzy. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, eyes half-closed.

“I’m going to count the hours,” Chan whispered.

Felix’s lips curved faintly. “Then I’ll make sure you don’t lose count.”

__________________________________

Felix stopped in front of Minho’s door and knocked twice.

From inside came a lazy, “Come in.”

Felix pushed the door open, stepped inside, and shut it firmly behind him. He didn’t move from the spot, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the demon lounging against the headboard as if he had all the time in the world.

“Well?” Felix’s voice was cool but edged with curiosity. “I’m still waiting for an answer as to why you were walking out of my friend Jisung’s room at six in the morning.”

Minho raised a brow. “I already told you—I was just walking by.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “I’m not an idiot. I saw your face. You looked very pleased with yourself. Suspiciously pleased.” He stepped forward, finally sitting on the edge of Minho’s bed. “So just tell me—did you sleep with Jisung? And I’m not asking as a prince,” his gaze softened slightly, “I’m asking as his friend.”

Minho smirked, leaning back. “No.”

Felix gave him a flat look.

“Still no.”

“Minho…”

The demon sighed dramatically, finally throwing his hands up. “Okay, fine. Yes. I spent the night with Jisung.”

Felix grinned faintly. “Finally… thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Minho tilted his head. “Depends. Do you just want to know if we slept, or if we…” His smirk turned wicked. “…did other things?”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I’m not asking for details.”

“Why not? You are not curious if I’m good in bed?” Minho’s grin widened. “If you wanted to find out, you could’ve just joined us.”

Felix burst out laughing. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. And yes,” Minho said with mock pride, “we had sex. And let me tell you, that angel of yours moves like the gods themselves blessed him. And that little secret you angels have…” His eyes gleamed. “Yeah, that drove me crazy.”

Felix’s face went crimson, and he grabbed a pillow and launched it at Minho’s head.

Dodging easily, Minho chuckled. “Touched a nerve?”

Felix ignored that and asked, “Are you in love with him?”

Minho’s smirk didn’t fade. “Before I answer that, I want to know how you feel about Chan.”

Felix froze, his throat suddenly dry. “No… Nothing,” he stammered, looking away.

“Uh-huh. And I’m the King of the Heavens.” Minho sat forward, elbows on his knees. “You were coming from the north wing at six in the morning. Sounds suspicious to me.”

Felix scoffed. “Don’t start making up stories in your head. The only thing I feel for Chan is disgust. He’s a demon. My greatest enemy. I hate him.”

Minho snorted. “Sure. Except for the way you two look at each other, like you want to tear each other’s clothes off and go at it right there in front of everyone.”

Felix’s cheeks burned. “You need serious psychiatric help.”

“I’m not stupid, Felix.”

“Then go ahead and keep making up your little fantasies, because I don’t feel anything for Chan. Absolutely nothing.” Felix’s voice was firm, but his eyes betrayed him. The way they flickered, the faint tremor in his tone—Minho saw right through it.

The demon’s grin spread. “Mm. We’ll see who’s right.” He leaned back casually. “But since you refused to answer my question honestly, I’m not answering yours about Jisung.”

Felix smiled knowingly. “No need. Silence means yes—you just gave me my answer.”

Minho rolled his eyes, but Felix leaned in slightly. “I’ll only say this once—Jisung is like my brother. The most beautiful, sweetest angel in the world—”

“—especially sweet,” Minho cut in, his tone filthy.

Felix gave him a warning glare. “If you make him cry, I swear I’ll declare war on the Underworld, and it will be your fault.”

He stood and started toward the door.

As his hand touched the handle, Minho called after him, voice dripping with mischief. “Careful, Prince. If you declare war, you’ll have to face your precious demon on the battlefield. Who knows…” His grin was pure sin. “…maybe you’ll finally get to ride him into victory.”

Felix’s ears burned bright red. Without looking back, he yanked the door open and slipped out, muttering something under his breath that Minho was sure was not very angelic.

Chapter Text

Felix woke slowly, the early light of morning spilling across his bed in pale gold. The warmth against him was steady and real, a heartbeat beneath his cheek. Chan’s arm was draped over him, their legs tangled, skin against skin. Felix’s thigh rested over Chan’s hip—and he could feel the unmistakable firmness pressing against him.

He bit his lip, eyes drifting up to the man lying beside him. Chan’s face was relaxed in sleep, lips parted slightly, hair tousled, every line of his body perfect in the hazy glow.

Gods… how could someone look like this? How could the world be so cruel as to make this love something they had to hide? Felix knew—deep down—that their story wasn’t one that would end with happily ever after. No, theirs would end in pain. But until that day came, he wanted to live every moment, to love Chan with everything he had.

Quietly, he leaned in, brushing his lips along Chan’s neck, then behind his ear. Chan made a soft sound in his sleep, a faint groan that made Felix’s chest ache. He trailed kisses lower—to his chest, over the curve of each muscle, teasing over his nipples until Chan’s breathing shifted. Felix kept going, down the ridges of his abs, until his lips reached the waistband of Chan’s underwear. Chan’s eyes opened, still heavy with sleep, but a slow smile spread across his face.

“Am I still dreaming?” his voice was husky. “Because I swear I was right in the middle of this one… my angel between my legs.”

Felix chuckled quietly, looking up through his lashes. “Maybe you are. Do you want me to keep going?”

Chan’s gaze softened. “Are you sure, Lix?”

Felix leaned up, kissed him, and whispered against his lips, “Yes. I want to leave you with a memory… for the weeks we’ll be apart.”

Chan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Then I’m yours. Do whatever you want with me.”

Felix smiled and lowered his head again, his lips marking a path down Chan’s body. “It’s my first time doing this,” he admitted shyly. “If I’m bad, forgive me.”

Chan brushed a hand through his hair with a tender smile. “You won’t be bad. I’ll guide you.”

Felix’s fingers hesitated at the waistband before sliding it down, revealing him completely for the first time. He froze for a moment, breath caught. 

Chan’s smirk broke the moment. “Like what you see, angel?”

Felix bit his lip, smirking back. “You are so perfect… and big…”

Gods above… Chan was a sin carved into perfection—broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist, every muscle cut like it had been sculpted by divine hands, the ink on his side curling down in dark, elegant lines that made Felix’s fingers itch to trace them. And now, for the first time, there was nothing to cover him—no fabric, no barrier—only bare skin, warm and inviting, vulnerable and real.

Felix’s heart thudded painfully. This was the first time he’d ever seen Chan like this. The first time he would taste him. And suddenly, nerves crawled up his spine. What if he wasn’t good at this? What if Chan didn’t feel the same magic he felt every time they touched?

Chan seemed to sense it instantly. His hand came to rest on the back of Felix’s neck, thumb stroking gently, his eyes soft but deep with want. “Hey,” he murmured, voice low and intimate, “breathe. You don’t have to rush. Just follow what you feel. I’ll guide you.”

Felix let out a shaky laugh. “I just… want to make it good for you.”

“You already do, my butterfly,” Chan said, his voice like molten honey. “Everything you do drives me insane, Lix. You couldn’t fail at this if you tried.”

That melted him. Felix took Chan's cock in both hands. It was perfect. Chan moaned at the mere feel of the angel's hands on his cock. Felix looked at Chan, biting his lip, and then brought his lips to the tip of his cock. Felix closed his eyes, enjoying the moment, and began to lick the precum. Chan tasted delicious. Chan moaned, feeling the angel's warm mouth, and Felix slowly began to insert Chan's cock into his mouth.

Slowly, carefully, he started sucking, letting Chan’s quiet murmurs and encouraging touches guide him. Chan’s fingers threaded through his hair, not pulling, but grounding him, and every now and then he whispered soft, unfiltered things—you’re perfect… your mouth is a dream… you’re mine… gods, you’re going to ruin me.

Felix followed Chan's every movement, pushing deeper into his mouth and reaching his throat. Chan let him know he was going to cum and that he wanted to do it inside that perfect mouth. Felix looked at him with his intense blue eyes, giving him permission to do what Chan wanted. Felix ran his tongue several more times over the vein in Chan's cock making Chan unable to hold back any longer and having to empty his hot cum into Felix's mouth while moaning his name. Felix swallowed everything and smiled at him with a shy smile.

When Felix finally came back up, Chan caught his face in his hands and kissed him like he needed the air in his lungs. It wasn’t hurried—it was deep, lingering, every movement saying I love you without the words.

Felix curled into him, chest against chest, both of them breathing heavily but smiling like fools. Chan rested his forehead against Felix’s, brushing his thumb across his cheek.

“I’m going to miss you so much, my angel,” he whispered, voice breaking just slightly. “More than I can stand.”

Felix swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ll miss you too… so much that it’s going to hurt.”

Chan closed his eyes, pressing another kiss to his lips, slower this time, almost desperate. “Then promise me you’ll think of me every night.”

“I’ll do more than think of you,” Felix murmured. “I’ll dream about you until I’m back in your arms.”

They stayed tangled together, kissing between whispered promises neither could be sure they’d ever be able to keep, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The world could wait—right now, they only belonged to each other.

____________________________________

The sun was already peeking through the curtains, but neither of them had moved from Felix’s bed. They were still tangled together, skin brushing skin, hands wandering lazily as if memorizing every inch of the other. Chan was smiling—no, smirking—his eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“That,” he murmured, voice low and husky, “was magical. Incredible. For your first time…” He tilted Felix’s chin up with a finger. “I have to give you the highest score possible.”

Felix’s cheeks went pink instantly. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was a smile tugging at his lips.

Chan leaned closer, his tone dropping even lower. “If you keep surprising me like that, angel, I’m going to have to start… repaying you. Thoroughly.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but the way his lips curled betrayed him. “Careful, demon. I might just hold you to that.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Chan teased, brushing his thumb over Felix’s jaw before whispering in his ear, “And next time, it’s going to be my turn… and I’m going to make sure you can’t even remember your own name.”

Felix laughed softly, biting his lip in that way that drove Chan insane. “Promises, promises…”

They kept tossing those intimate remarks back and forth, the air thick with warmth and temptation, until Felix’s gaze caught the clock on the wall. His smile faltered.
“I… have to go, Channie.”

Chan’s arms were around him in an instant, pulling him in so tightly it was almost crushing. “Not yet.”

Felix buried his face in his shoulder, holding on even tighter. “I don’t want to leave. But I’m the prince and my kingdom needs me.”

“Then don’t,” Chan murmured, though he knew it wasn’t possible. His hand slid to Felix’s face, thumb brushing gently over his lower lip. “I’m going to miss this… more than anything.”

Felix tilted his head just enough for their mouths to almost meet. “Then give them one last memory. Please.”

Chan’s eyes darkened, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath before he leaned in. The kiss started slow—soft lips pressing together with reverence, as though they were sealing an unspoken vow. Then Chan’s mouth parted slightly, inviting Felix in. Felix followed without hesitation, their tongues meeting in a warm, electric caress.

Felix’s thoughts blurred—I could live here forever. Right here, in his arms, tasting him, breathing him in. If the world ended now, I’d die happy.

Chan’s hand cupped the back of Felix’s head, holding him in place, while Felix’s fingers slid over Chan’s shoulders, gripping just enough to feel the strength beneath his skin. The heat between them built with every stroke of their tongues, every shared breath, until it was dizzying.

Chan’s mind was no calmer—He’s mine. My angel. I don’t care about kingdoms or wars or rules. If I could, I’d keep him like this, close enough that no one else could ever touch him.

When they finally broke apart, it was only to rest their foreheads together, both breathing heavily, both smiling as if their hearts couldn’t fit inside their chests.

__________________________________

Felix had been gone for over a week now, and already Chan felt like someone had taken the air out of his lungs. How the hell did this happen? He was the heir to the underworld. Felix was the heir to the heavens. They weren’t supposed to do more than glare at each other from across a battlefield. And yet… that beautiful little angel had become everything.

Chan knew the cruel truth—sooner or later, this story would end, because their roles in life were carved in stone. They weren’t written for “happily ever after.” They were written for tragedy. But until that day came, he would love Felix with everything he had. And right now, he was going to lose his mind if he didn’t distract himself. He left his room and made his way to Minho’s quarters. Without knocking, he pushed the door open—and stopped. 

Minho and Jisung were inside, sitting suspiciously close together. The three of them locked eyes in silence. Then Minho’s lips curled into that signature devil’s grin.
“You know,” Minho drawled, “it’s polite to knock. If you’d walked in, say, fifteen minutes earlier… you’d have gotten a very personal view of me and Jisung’s morning cardio.”

“Minho!” Jisung yelped, face instantly going red. “Why would you even—?”

Chan raised a brow, crossing his arms. “Morning cardio, huh?”

“Oh, you know,” Minho said casually, stretching like a cat, “full-body workout, raises the heart rate, burns calories… and makes the neighbors complain about the noise.”

Jisung buried his face in his hands. “I hate you, demon!”

Chan laughed. “Maybe this is a good lesson for you two—lock the damn door if you’re going to ‘burn calories’ like condemned sinners.”

Jisung groaned. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Oh, we’re talking about it,” Minho said, unbothered. “Especially after the way you were screaming my name like I was—”

“Stop.” Chan held up a hand. “I don’t need the visual.”

Jisung mumbled, “Thank you,” like Chan had just saved his life. “I owe you one”

But Minho wasn’t done. He tilted his head at Chan. “So… I’m guessing that the little blond angel has left you with a very big void? And you miss him?”

Chan’s expression stayed carefully neutral. “Yeah… eehhmm… nooo…. well… things get boring without him to tease.”

“Tease?” Jisung repeated with a sly smile. “You mean flirt.”

Minho grinned wickedly. “Or undress with your eyes until you lose all sense of shame.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “You two have too much free time.”

“Oh, we make the most of our free time,” Minho shot back. “But seriously, Channie… you’ve got it bad.”

“I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” Jisung interrupted, looking far too smug for an angel. “You’re practically sulking. You miss him.”

“I’m not sulking,” Chan said flatly.

Minho smirked. “Then why are you here whining to us like a lovesick teenager instead of doing whatever boring demon-prince things you usually do?”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Jisung said at the same time as Minho, both of them nodding in sync.

Chan glared at them. “You two are annoying.”

“Not as annoying as the way you stare at Felix,” Minho said, leaning forward. “It’s like you’re seconds away from pinning him to the nearest wall and—”

“Minho,” Jisung warned, blushing again.

“—and worshipping him like the heavens themselves,” Minho finished innocently.

Chan’s jaw tightened, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “You really enjoy making up stories, huh?”

“Oh, please,” Minho snorted. “The way you look at him isn’t a story. It’s a documentary. And in this documentary, the prince of the underworld is completely, hopelessly, tragically in love with the prince of the heavens.”

“That’s not—”

“It is,” Jisung cut in smoothly. “It’s written all over your face.”

Chan pointed at him. “You owe me one... remember? You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am,” Jisung said with a straight face. “I’m on the side that tells you to stop lying to yourself… and admit that you like my friend.”

Minho clapped slowly. “Beautiful. Poetic. I could cry.”

Chan groaned. “Why did I come here again?”

“To admit you want to eat Felix alive,” Minho said instantly.

“I do not—”

“Oh, you do,” Minho purred. “You’ve got that look. The one that says you remember exactly how his lips taste and you’d sell your soul—oh wait, I really think you already did—for another bite.”

Jisung looked scandalized. “Minho!”

“What?” Minho asked innocently. “I’m just saying, the prince’s hungry. And not for breakfast.”

Chan fought the heat creeping up his neck. “You two are insufferable.”

“Funny,” Minho said, leaning back lazily, “that’s exactly what Felix’s face said when—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll throw you out the window,” Chan cut in.

Minho smirked. “Touchy.”

Jisung, still red, looked between them. “You could go visit him, you know. Just show up at his room like, ‘Oh, fancy seeing you here.’”

Chan shook his head. “I’m not sneaking into his kingdom just to… what, call him a dragonfly with freckles?”

“You could,” Minho said, eyes gleaming. “Or since you are in his palace and you have gotten there without being caught by the guards… you could kiss him senseless, push him against his tower window, and—”

“Minho,” Jisung said sharply.

“—and have the most scandalous diplomatic meeting in history,” Minho finished with a grin.

Chan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because nothing says peace between realms like public indecency.”

“You’re no fun,” Minho sighed dramatically.

Jisung smiled faintly. “Actually… it’s not that hard to get in. In the garden, there’s a staff entrance that leads straight to the glass tower—Felix’s room. We used to sneak in and out as teens to go to parties. Just throw on a beanie to hide your dark hair, and with the cold weather, no one will question it. No one will know that you are a demon.”

Chan’s brows rose. “You realize you’ve just told a demon—Felix’s number one enemy—how to walk straight into his bedroom without being seen? exactly how to get into his castle without anyone noticing?”

Minho laughed, slow and deep. “Yeah, yeah… ‘enemy number one.’” His grin turned wicked. “You two should really work on hiding your ‘enmity’ better. The way you look at each other, it’s like you’re seconds away from tearing each other’s clothes off and—”

“Enough,” Chan cut in, but his smirk betrayed him. “I’m leaving”.

"Just go through the moonflower garden and it'll take you to the backyard. There are two doors there. Take the one on the right, and then you just have to go up to the tower. That's where his room is." Jisung said calmly while Minho laughed. “The guards don't usually watch in front of his door; they guard from the base of the tower, but from the main entrance. They're never at the service door.”

"I'm leaving this room!! Not leaving to see Felix!!" Chan exclaimed.

Chan walked out and slammed the door. He leaned against it, the idea of visiting Felix no longer seeming so crazy.

_____________________________________

Chan didn’t sleep a second that night. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind caught in an endless loop. Go, don’t go. Risk it, or stay here.

The worst-case scenario was crystal clear: if he was caught sneaking into Felix’s palace—a demon, in the heart of the Heaven Kingdom—he’d be facing condemnation at best, execution at worst. And not just for him. His presence there could be the spark that set the ancient, fragile line between Underworld and Heaven ablaze. One wrong move, and war would be inevitable.

But the best-case scenario? He’d see him again. Felix. He’d touch him again, hold the love of his life in his arms, press his lips to the ones that haunted his every waking moment and every dream. He could lose himself in those blue eyes, hear that laugh that made the whole world fade away.

Was that worth risking everything for? Chan didn’t need long to decide. Yes. He would risk kingdoms, wars, and his own life for being with his angel.

Jisung had explained the way in—a staff entrance hidden from the main guards, leading straight to the glass tower. It sounded simple enough. And demons loved a challenge.

Chan pulled a white wool beanie from his drawer and tugged it down to cover every trace of his dark hair. His wings folded tight into his back, vanishing beneath his skin until there was no trace of them. He grabbed a jacket, pulled it tight, and headed for the castle gates.

The air was cold, the world still dark when he slipped out before dawn. Standing on the edge of the Forest’s borders, he took a deep breath, then reached out with his power. The sky above split with a faint, glowing crack—an unstable seam between realms. Without hesitation, Chan stepped through. He shot upward, piercing the barrier between worlds, and was swallowed by cloud after endless cloud. The air grew thinner, cleaner, unnervingly pure compared to the heavy, spiced scent of home.

Then—solid ground beneath his boots. The mist peeled away like curtains drawing back from a stage, and Chan’s breath caught in his throat.

The Heaven Kingdom stretched out before him, a vision so flawless it was almost painful. The sky here was a deeper blue than anywhere he’d ever seen, painted with lazy wisps of gold-lit clouds. Towers of pale stone rose toward the heavens, their spires glittering with silver and crystal in the dawn light. Bridges of white marble arched gracefully between them, lined with gardens where flowers bloomed in impossible colors—petals that shimmered as though dusted with starlight.

Every street below was pristine, paved with pale stone that seemed to glow faintly under the rising sun. Fountains scattered throughout the plazas spilled water so clear it caught rainbows in the air. The scent of it all was maddening—fresh, sweet, like a thousand blossoms carried on the wind.

And the light… gods, the light here didn’t just illuminate; it wrapped around everything like a blessing. It made the kingdom seem less like a place and more like a dream given form. It was beautiful. And Chan, a demon standing in the heart of it, felt like a drop of ink in an untouched pool of snow.

Yet even surrounded by such breathtaking beauty, all he could think about was Felix. Somewhere within those shining towers, his angel was waiting—sleeping, maybe, unaware that Chan had just crossed the unthinkable to get to him. And now… all that was left was to find him.

____________________________

The streets of the Heaven Kingdom were almost too clean, too perfect. Every step Chan took left no mark behind, as if the stone refused to remember the touch of a demon’s boots. He kept his head slightly down, the wool beanie pulled low, though not so much that it looked suspicious. The trick was to blend in—to act like he belonged.

It helped that the streets were already alive with the soft bustle of early morning. Workers moved about their business with serene efficiency: bakers carried trays of fresh bread that steamed in the crisp air, sending scents of honey and spice drifting across the lanes. Gardeners clipped morning dew from flowers so bright they looked unreal. Guards in polished silver armor stood at their posts, their white wings unfurled in a display of pride and discipline. Every single one of them smiled politely as they passed him.

“Good morning, sir,” a baker said warmly, wings rustling slightly behind him.

Chan nodded, forcing a pleasant expression onto his face. “Morning.” His voice was low, casual.

A pair of guards stepped aside for him on a narrow bridge, one even inclining his head in greeting. “Lovely weather today.”

“Yes,” Chan replied smoothly, though inside he was reeling. If you knew who I am…

It was almost too easy. The people here didn’t just trust—they radiated it. They had no reason to suspect danger could stroll their streets in plain sight.

No wonder Felix is so soft, Chan thought with a wry smile. He grew up surrounded by this…

The castle came into view, dominating the skyline—a sprawling masterpiece of marble and crystal. It rose in elegant layers, each terrace overflowing with gardens and water features. High above, one tower gleamed brighter than the rest, its glass walls catching every shard of sunlight. Chan knew without question: that’s where he is.

He kept moving, heart pounding harder with every step. Jisung’s words played over and over in Chan’s head as he stood at the edge of the moonflower garden.

Just go through the moonflower garden and it'll take you to the backyard. There are two doors there. Take the one on the right, and then you just have to go up to the tower. That's where his room is. The guards don't usually watch in front of his door; they guard from the base of the tower, but from the main entrance. They're never at the service door.

Now, standing at the edge of the castle’s moonflower garden, Chan adjusted the wool beanie lower over his dark hair and stepped between the rows of glowing blooms. The air grew quieter here, hushed, like even the flowers were holding their breath. He found the two doors exactly where Jisung had said they’d be, tucked against the castle’s rear wall. Without hesitation, he went to the one on the right. The handle was cold under his fingers, but it turned easily.

Inside, the air shifted—warm, faintly perfumed with honey and polished wood. The service corridor was narrow, the stone worn smooth by years of quiet footsteps. Somewhere far below, he could hear the faint clatter of pans and the hum of early morning work.

Chan moved quickly, keeping to the shadows, until he found the spiral stairwell. Every step upward tightened the knot in his chest.

Two weeks, he thought. Almost two weeks without holding him. Without hearing his laugh. Without his hands on me. Without those lips…

It had been unbearable. Nights were the worst—lying in bed staring at the ceiling, the phantom warmth of Felix’s body pressed against him like a memory he couldn’t shake. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see that smile, those blue eyes, the way Felix said his name when no one else could hear. He reached the top of the stairs, breath shallow. One last hallway. One arched white door, feathers carved into the stone. Felix was behind it. Chan pushed it open, silently.

The glass tower was flooded with the first golden light of morning. The curved windows cast a soft glow across the bed in the center of the room, where Felix lay tangled in white sheets. His blond hair spilled messily across the pillow, his lips parted in sleep, his lashes long against his cheeks.

Chan’s chest ached. He crossed the room without a sound and sank to his knees beside the bed. For a moment, he just looked—let himself soak in the sight, let the weeks of longing and ache pour into this single moment. Then, slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Felix’s temple.

Felix stirred, shifting faintly beneath the sheets. Chan kissed the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then the line of his jaw. Another kiss at the base of his ear. Then his collarbone. Then back to his lips. Felix murmured something incoherent, eyes still closed. Chan kissed him again, softly, and again.

Felix’s voice was drowsy when he finally whispered, “Mmm… is this a dream?”

Chan’s mouth curved against his skin, his voice low and teasing. “If it is, angel, it’s not the wet kind… because in my dreams, you’re usually naked by now.”

Felix gave a sleepy, confused little laugh—until his eyes opened fully.

His breath caught. The haze of sleep vanished in an instant, replaced by shock so sharp it made him sit up a little. “Chan?” His voice cracked. “What—how—? You’re… you’re here?”

“In the flesh,” Chan murmured, brushing his lips lightly along Felix’s cheek.

“Are you really here?” Felix whispered.

Before Chan could answer, Felix’s arms shot around him, pulling him down into the bed, holding on like he’d never let go again.

Chan buried his face in Felix’s hair, inhaling deep. “I couldn’t do it anymore,” he murmured against his ear. “Almost two weeks without you. Two weeks without touching you, without kissing you. Without my other half. Do you know what that feels like? It’s torture, Felix. You’re—” His voice shook, but he pushed on. “You’re my soul. Being away from you feels like… like I’m missing a piece of myself, and nothing in the world can fill it except you.”

Felix’s hands fisted in his shirt, his face pressed against Chan’s chest. “I missed you so much, my wolf from hell.”

Chan smiled. “I missed you more than hell, my firefly.”

Felix stared at him like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.  Then, suddenly, Felix tensed. He pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes wide. “Chan—you’re in my room. In my tower. In my palace. In Heaven.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “If anyone finds you here…”

Chan just looked at him, calm in a way that made Felix’s heart pound faster. “I know.”

“Do you?” Felix’s voice shook, his hands gripping Chan’s shoulders as if trying to anchor him. “If they find you here, they’ll—” His throat closed around the word, but it hung there anyway. “They’ll kill you, Chan.”

Chan’s expression softened, like Felix had just told him something obvious. “I thought about that.”

Felix blinked at him. “And you still came?”

“Of course I did.” Chan’s hand found the side of his face, his thumb stroking over Felix’s cheekbone. “Felix, I’ve been losing my mind without you. Almost two weeks of nothing—no touch, no kisses, no stupid little arguments about who gets the blanket… just silence. Do you know how much that hurt?”

Felix’s chest ached. “I hurt too. But this—this is insane. You could’ve—”

“That’s the thing about love,” Chan interrupted gently. “It makes you reckless. Makes you do dangerous, stupid things because not doing them feels worse.” His voice dropped, rough around the edges. “I’d rather risk my life than spend another day not knowing when I’ll get to hold you again.”

Felix swallowed hard. “You’re crazy.”

“For you?” Chan gave a small, crooked smile. “Completely.”

Felix’s eyes stung, and he blinked quickly, but it didn’t stop the warmth from pooling in his chest. He reached out, curling his fingers into Chan’s shirt and tugging him closer until their foreheads touched.

“If my father knew you were here…,” he whispered.

“And if mine knew...,” Chan agreed softly, “but… fuck them. Because I needed to see you, angel. Needed to feel you. I… I can’t do the distance thing with you, Felix. Not when I know you’re up here, and I’m down there, and there’s a hundred miles of sky keeping me from my soulmate.”

The word soulmate broke something in Felix. His voice trembled when he said, “You can’t just call me that and expect me to be okay… my heart is melting.” Felix’s hands slid up into Chan’s hair, holding his head as if that alone could keep him from leaving. “I missed you so much it hurt,” he admitted again, his voice small. “Every night, I kept reaching for you in my bed, and you weren’t there. I hated waking up alone.”

“I hated it too,” Chan whispered. “I hated not hearing your laugh. Not hearing you call me ridiculous names when I tease you. Not waking up to your hair in my face and you hogging the pillow… God! You are my everything, butterfly.”

Felix let out a shaky laugh, pressing his face into Chan’s chest. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“Then cry,” Chan said simply, one arm wrapping around his waist. “Cry if you have to. I’ll hold you until you’re done.”

Felix’s voice was muffled against him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” Chan corrected.

Felix’s throat tightened. He pulled back just enough to look up at him, and in that moment, every ounce of worry was tangled with the fierce, aching love he felt for the man in front of him. “Do you know how scared I am for you right now?”

“I know,” Chan said quietly, “but I’m here. And I’m not leaving until I absolutely have to. So… maybe we can not waste what little time we have left worrying about what could happen, and just… be together right now?”

Felix stared at him, torn between wanting to argue and wanting to throw himself into Chan’s arms. In the end, love won. He reached forward, grabbing the collar of Chan’s shirt and pulling him into a kiss that was everything they hadn’t been able to have for thirteen long days.

It was deep, desperate, the kind of kiss that felt like breathing after being underwater for too long. Chan’s hands slid to Felix’s back, holding him close, and Felix melted into him like he never wanted to be anywhere else again. When they finally broke apart, Felix’s lips were pink and swollen, his breath shaky.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he murmured.

Chan smiled, brushing his thumb along Felix’s jaw. “I like the sound of that, angel.”

Felix shook his head, still smiling despite the tears threatening to spill. “You’re going to get us both in so much trouble.”

“Worth it,” Chan said without hesitation.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Chan teased, leaning in for another kiss, “you’re still in love with me.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but his smile softened. “Hopelessly.”

Chapter Text

Felix’s eyes flicked open. At first, it was just the usual soft hush of morning in his room… and then—footsteps. Heavy, measured. Too precise to be a servant. The sound was coming closer, right down his corridor. His stomach lurched.

Without hesitation, he grabbed Chan’s wrist. “Bathroom. Now.”

Chan, still drowsy from their stolen night together, blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“Don’t argue—go!” Felix hissed, pushing the demon across the room.

Chan stumbled the last few steps himself, more amused than alarmed. “Angel, what—”

The sharp click of boots on marble echoed closer. Felix shoved Chan inside the bathroom, slammed the door softly but firmly, and whispered through the wood, “Don’t make a sound.”

He straightened his robe, yanking the sash tight, and smoothed his hair into place in the mirror. By the time he turned back toward the main door, his expression was all royal composure.

The guard’s knock was brisk. “Your Highness.”

Felix opened the door just enough to peer out. “Yes?”

The man bowed his head. “I was making my rounds. Is everything well this morning?”

Felix pressed a hand lightly to his temple, feigning weariness. “Not entirely. I’m not feeling well today. I won’t be leaving the palace. In fact… I’d like the staff dismissed for the day, meals prepared in advance and left in the kitchen, and—” he paused deliberately, “—I want no disturbances.”

The guard frowned slightly. “Your Highness… we can’t leave you entirely unattended—”

Felix’s eyes sharpened instantly. “Are you contradicting me? The Prince of Heaven?”

The man faltered. “No, Your Highness, never, but… your father—”

“My father,” Felix cut him off, voice like silk with steel underneath, “is not here. I am. And I am telling you I wish to rest without noise or interruption.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “Your Highness, forgive me, but—”

Felix cut him off, voice rising with just enough steel to make the man flinch. “Enough. Do as I say, or I will personally see to it that my father removes you from your post.”

There was a beat of silence before the man bowed quickly. “Yes, Your Highness. Meals will be left here, and the staff will vacate the palace for the day. Guards will return in the morning.”

“Good.” Felix inclined his head, closing the door the moment the guard turned away.

He leaned back against it, letting out a slow breath. The bathroom door creaked open.

Chan emerged, leaning casually on the frame, eyes glittering with mischief. “That,” he drawled, “was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

Felix gave him a look. “What?? That was hot?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Chan crossed the room slowly, predatory, like he already knew Felix wouldn’t retreat. “That voice? That attitude? Butterfly, I swear, you were born to give orders.”

Felix’s lips curved despite himself. “You are ridiculous, demon.”

Chan’s grin widened. “You, standing there like you own the entire sky—which, technically, you do—and ordering that poor guard around like you were about to send him to the dungeon? Angel, I swear…” His voice dropped, low and sinful. “That power trip thing you’ve got going on just… does things to me.”

“What are you thinking with that sex-mad little head of yours?” Felix asked with a smile.

Chan’s tone was shameless. “You should know, the moment you started bossing that guard around, I started imagining you bossing me around. And I’m not gonna lie, the thought…” His smile turned downright wicked. “…made it very hard to stay quiet in there.” Chan’s grin was pure sin. “You, standing over me. Telling me exactly what to do. And me…” his voice dipped low, “…being very, very good for you.”

Felix’s cheeks heated, but he bit his lip and arched a brow. “That’s a very specific image, wolf from hell.”

Chan’s hand slid to his waist, pulling him close until their bodies brushed. “Oh, it’s more than an image. It’s a full porn scene in my head right now.”

Felix tilted his head, pretending to think. “And in this scene, am I punishing you or rewarding you?”

“Both,” Chan said instantly, his eyes dark with heat. “First one, then the other. I’d deserve it either way.”

Felix laughed, low and warm, biting his lip again—this time without hiding it. “You really can’t go five minutes without saying something indecent, can you?”

“Not when you’re standing here,” Chan murmured, brushing his thumb over Felix’s lower lip. “Especially not when you’re biting this. Do you even know what that does to me?”

Felix smiled against his touch. “Maybe I do.”

“Dangerous,” Chan breathed, leaning in just enough that their noses almost touched. “You’re the dangerous one here, angel… Not me… And I’m not sure I ever want to be safe again.”

Felix’s heart gave a sharp, traitorous thud. “Careful,” he murmured teasing him, “or I might start thinking you actually like me.”

Chan laughed softly, kissing the corner of his mouth before pulling back just enough to whisper, “Like you? Felix, I’m here because I can’t breathe right without you.”

For once, Felix didn’t have a comeback. His heart beat rapidly.

___________________________________

The palace was silent now. Felix stood at one of the tall windows, his fingertips resting lightly on the cold glass as he watched the last members of the staff disappear down the long marble steps. From here, the view stretched all the way to the gilded gates, the gleaming cobblestones bright in the midday light. One by one, the guards and servants slipped through until the courtyard stood empty, not a single soul in sight.

The moment the gates closed, a voice broke the stillness.

“So…” Chan’s deep, velvety tone rolled through the room, curling low in Felix’s stomach. “Are you going to give me the grand tour? Show me where you grew up? …And maybe,” he added, stepping close enough that Felix felt the heat of his body against his back, “show me all the places where I could make love to you in this perfect little palace of yours.”

A shiver shot down Felix’s spine, his breath catching. Images—dangerous, intoxicating images—flashed in his mind: Chan’s hands on him, his mouth claiming him, the scandal of it happening here in the very heart of Heaven.

Felix swallowed hard, trying for composure. “You’re shameless.”

“Mm,” Chan murmured against his ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. “Only when it comes to you.”

Felix turned his head slightly, catching the glint in Chan’s eyes. “Fine… Follow me…  But you behave.”

“Not a chance.”

They started with the music hall. Sunlight poured through arched windows, gleaming over polished floors and rows of instruments: golden flutes, carved violins, and, at the far end, a grand harp strung with silver threads.

Chan let out a low whistle. “Wow… It’s like walking into a piece of art.” He glanced at Felix, then at the harp. “You play that thing?”

Felix’s mouth curved. “A little.”

“Bet you look beautiful doing it,” Chan said, leaning casually against the polished piano beside them. “Bet I’d ruin it for you too.”

Felix arched a brow. “Ruin it how?”

“With my hands all over you while you try to keep playing.” Chan’s smile turned wolfish. “Every wrong note you hit would be my fault.”

Felix shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “You’d be impossible to rehearse with.”

“You’d still let me watch.”

From the music hall, Felix led him into the library. The sheer scale of it made Chan stop in his tracks—walls soaring up three floors high, every inch covered in books. Golden ladders slid along the shelves, and high above, a domed skylight spilled warm light over the space.

“This…” Chan’s voice was quiet, almost reverent. “…is huge.”

They moved on, winding through bright corridors until they reached the palace observatory. Here, the air felt cooler, scented faintly with parchment and polished brass. Great telescopes pointed toward the heavens, and maps of constellations covered the walls.

Chan’s eyes gleamed as he glanced around, then landed on a long oak table in the center of the room. “You know,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “I could bend you over that table and make you see the stars without touching a telescope.”

Felix’s breath caught, heat rushing to his cheeks. “Chan…” he warned, but there was no real scolding in it.

Chan grinned. “What? Just telling you the truth.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but he stepped closer, brushing a hand against Chan’s chest. “You’re incorrigible.”

Chan sighed. "I just know you're going to be my downfall, butterfly." Chan caressed Felix's hand on his chest. He took it and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

They wandered through the rest of the palace—the bright guest halls, the glass-roofed conservatory, the marble courtyards with their fountains—until at last they reached the kitchen.The vast room was flooded with light from tall windows, the air fragrant with the dishes the staff had left behind. A long table stood laden with trays and bowls: warm bread, fruits drizzled in golden honey, creamy pastries, and spiced drinks still steaming faintly.

Felix smiled. “They’ve prepared enough for three days… We can eat lunch now, Channie.”

Chan didn’t answer immediately—he was already snagging a slice of bread and biting into it. His brows rose at the flavor. “Damn. Sweet as hell.” He swallowed, licking his thumb where honey had dripped. Then his eyes flicked to Felix. “Still not as sweet as you, though.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but his heart thudded hard. “Do you ever stop?”

“Why would I stop?” Chan stepped closer, catching Felix by the waist and tugging him between his legs where he’d perched on the edge of the table. “My favorite celestial delicacy is standing right here.”

Felix’s cheeks warmed. “You mean the food.”

“No,” Chan murmured, his voice dipping to that intimate, devastating tone. “I mean your lips.”

Felix froze for a fraction of a second, his pulse racing so fast it felt like his chest couldn’t contain it. Then he laughed softly, leaning forward to kiss him.

Chan kissed him back—hungry, deliberate, syrup still lingering on his tongue. Felix gasped softly into his mouth, then kissed him harder, one hand braced on the table for balance. The kiss deepened, turning into a slow, wet exchange that tasted of sugar and heat.

When they broke apart, Felix laughed breathlessly. “We’re supposed to be eating.”

“I am eating,” Chan said, leaning in to kiss him again. “…Your beautiful mouth….”

They tried to sit and eat properly, but it was hopeless. Every bite turned into an excuse for Chan to lean over and steal another kiss, or for Felix to feed him something just to watch the demon’s expression change. At one point, Chan licked a bit of cream from Felix’s lip and murmured, “Yep. Still better than anything on the table.”

Felix swatted his arm, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

By the time the plates were half-empty, Felix was sitting sideways on Chan’s lap, their mouths locked together, his fingers tangled in Chan’s hair while Chan’s hands gripped his hips like he might never let go. The palace was silent around them, the world outside forgotten.

____________________________

The Throne Room was a cathedral of gold and white marble. Shafts of pale light spilled through the high stained-glass windows, painting the polished floor in soft colors. Two thrones stood at the far end of the hall—tall, ornate, and draped in silks that shimmered faintly in the quiet. 

Chan stopped just inside the doorway, eyes sweeping over the towering pillars, the carved archways, the sheer impossible scale of it. “So this,” he murmured, “is where your parents rule.”

Felix gave a small nod, his gaze distant. “Yes.”

Felix’s steps slowed as they crossed the wide expanse. His gaze lingered on the throne to the right, the one that would someday be his. For a moment, he didn’t say anything.

Chan noticed the shift immediately. “What is it?” he asked gently, moving to stand beside him.

Felix’s fingers brushed the carved armrest before he finally sat down. He lowered his gaze to the marble beneath their feet, his voice quiet. “I’ve thought about this room my whole life. About the day I’d sit here for real, wearing the crown, ruling this realm…” His throat tightened. “But now when I picture it… all I can see is an empty space beside me. Because you won’t be there.”

The weight of those words hung between them.

“You know what would happen if they found out about us,” Felix continued, the ache in his voice growing sharper. “The hatred between Heaven and the Underworld runs too deep. If the truth came out, they… they’d put us both to death, and they’d make sure it happened in front of everyone. Before I even took the throne… before I had the chance to choose you openly… they’d destroy us.”

He swallowed hard. “Our story was never written for a happy ending.”

A single tear slipped down his cheek. He didn’t bother to wipe it away.

For a moment, Chan just looked at him. He didn’t like to see his sunshine cry. He needed to make him laugh no matter what. Then he stepped forward, slowly lowering himself onto one knee in front of the throne. He forced a smirk. “You know what’s really fucked up?”

Felix blinked at him.

“I got on my knees right now because the thought of sucking you off in your father’s throne has me so hard I can barely think straight.”

Felix’s breath caught — then he let out a choked laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible, demon.”

“You smile better than you cry, angel,” Chan said softly, his teasing tone gentling. “But I’m serious about one thing —”

Felix blinked at him in surprise. “Chan—”

“No,” Chan said softly, but firmly. “Let me say this.”

He reached up, taking Felix’s hands in his own. His eyes held no trace of his usual mischief now—only raw, unwavering devotion. “You are the love of my life, Felix. Always have been, always will be. And there is nothing—no crown, no title, no kingdom—that means more to me than you.” His grip tightened slightly, his voice trembling just enough to betray the emotion beneath. “I’d give it all up. My throne, my family, my home… every piece of the life I was born into. I would walk away from the Underworld tomorrow if it meant I could spend the rest of my days with you.”

Felix’s breath caught.

Chan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “If we have to run… if we have to disappear into the farthest corner of this world just to be together… I’ll do it. The Water Realm, the Forest Kingdom, even the world of humans—I don’t care where. As long as you’re there, I’ll go.”

His thumb brushed over the back of Felix’s hand, slow and deliberate. “The only thing I could never live with is losing you.”

Felix’s vision blurred as more tears welled in his eyes. He slid down from the throne until he was level with Chan, still holding his hands. “You’d really do that?” he whispered.

Chan’s gaze was steady. “In a heartbeat.”

For a moment, Felix couldn’t speak. Then he cupped Chan’s face in both hands, the warmth of his palms cradling that familiar, beautiful face. “If you asked me to go… I’d follow you to the end of the world.”

Neither of them moved for a long time, the silence between them thick with everything they couldn’t put into words. Then, slowly, Felix leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Chan’s.

“I love you,” he breathed.

Chan’s lips curved in the faintest smile, his eyes closing. “I love you more.”

Felix felt the words settle deep in his chest, filling spaces he hadn’t realized were empty. In that moment, the throne behind him, the kingdom around him, and the dangers looming over them all faded away. There was only Chan—only the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his skin, the promise in his voice.

And Felix knew… it was time to show him just how much he loved him.

__________________________________

Meanwhile, in the Forest Realm, the sunlight filtered softly through the towering emerald canopy, scattering golden flecks over the royal gardens. Six figures strolled along a winding path lined with flowers—three angels and three demons, their voices carrying lazily in the warm air.

Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N. walked together on one side, white feathers glinting in the light. On the other, Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin moved with the quiet confidence of their kind, shadows pooling faintly at their feet. For a while, their conversation was easy. They spoke of trivial things: the way the flowers this year were unusually vivid, the migration of the glowing moths that flitted among the leaves at night, the strange rumors coming from the Water Realm. Then, Changbin broke the calm.

“Any of you seen Chan today?” His tone was casual, but his eyes scanned each face for an answer.

One by one, they shook their heads.

“Nope.” Seungmin stretched lazily. “Didn’t see him this morning.”

“Not me either,” Hyunjin added.

Minho and Jisung, however, exchanged a look—one of those wordless, uh-oh glances that instantly drew suspicion.

Minho narrowed his eyes slightly, smirking. “No way… he wouldn’t…”

All heads turned toward him.

“Wouldn’t what?” Hyunjin asked.

Jisung sighed and glanced at I.N. and Hyunjin, then back at the demons. “Yesterday… Chan showed up in Minho’s room when I was there. He was acting strange. Quieter than usual. Like something was eating him from the inside.”

Minho snorted. “So we started teasing him. Told him he missed Felix. Which obviously meant he was dying for him. That he was in love.”

Hyunjin’s brows rose. “You said that to his face?”

Jisung gave a guilty laugh. “And I—” He hesitated. “I might have told him, as a joke, to go see Felix in the Heaven Realm.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed. “You what?”

“I might have also told him—” Jisung rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish, “—how to sneak into Felix’s chamber in the Heaven Palace without being seen.”

Minho let out a low whistle.

“Are you kidding met?” I.N. asked, incredulous.

“It was a joke!” Jisung insisted quickly. “I didn’t think he’d actually do it!”

The group came to a slow halt in the middle of the path.

“You’re telling me the Prince of the Underworld would risk his life like that? For Felix?” Hyunjin’s tone was disbelieving, but there was a flicker of something else—curiosity, maybe even fear.

The demons, however, didn’t seem shocked.

“Oh, you don’t know Chan,” Changbin said, smirking. “He loves danger. Lives for it. Especially when it comes with a little adrenaline rush.”

“And especially… if it involves Felix,” Seungmin added with a knowing look.

Jisung crossed his arms. “Still. That’s not the kind of thing you do for someone you supposedly ‘hate’ and ‘don’t care about.’”

At that, a soft sound escaped I.N.—a quiet, almost reluctant sigh, as though he was seconds away from speaking but trying to hold it back.

Seungmin caught it instantly. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” I.N. said too quickly.

Seungmin arched a brow, then stepped behind the angel. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against the side of I.N.’s neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. The angel’s breath caught sharply.

“Talk, my cherub,” Seungmin murmured, his voice low and velvety. “You know something.”

The others were now staring. Changbin crossed his arms, clearly intrigued.

“Yeah, you do,” Changbin said. “I remember when Felix healed Chan with powers he didn’t even know he had. You knew exactly what would work. How?”

All eyes were locked on I.N. now, the forest air heavy with the weight of expectation.

I.N. finally sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. It’s not… important. Just something I remembered. When I was a kid, I loved reading—spent hours in the palace library. One day, I found this old book. It looked ancient. The pages were yellowed, the ink faded. I thought it was just some fantasy tale. A children’s story.”

“About what?” Hyunjin asked quietly.

I.N.’s gaze flicked between them. “an angel with the voice of a demon, and a demon with the heart of an angel, who would be soulmates, bound so deeply… That they’d destroy the magical world just to be together.” I.N. sighed. “The angel could heal only one person—the love of his life—or himself, but only if they were together. And the demon… could destroy anything in his way, kill anyone who harmed the one he loved.” His voice softened. “Together, they could control life and death itself.”

A silence stretched after that.

Changbin tilted his head. “And you think… that’s Felix and Chan?… when Felix healed Chan…?”

“I remembered the story when I saw Felix and Chan were able to heal each other when they touched each other.... exactly like the story I read… But… Don’t worry…. Probably just a coincidence… right?,” I.N. said quickly. “I mean, that’s what I told myself. Always thought the story was fiction, because… come on, love between angels and demons doesn’t exist. It can’t. Right?”

His words hung in the air.

One by one, their eyes began to wander—to each other. Hyunjin’s gaze flicked to Changbin and lingered a heartbeat too long. Jisung found his eyes drawn to Minho before quickly looking away. Even I.N., without meaning to, glanced at Seungmin again. They all knew it wasn’t supposed to happen. And yet, here they were.

Minho’s voice was sharp. “And? What else? What happens next?”

I.N. cleared his throat. “That’s the thing… I don’t remember… I was very young when I read it. I don’t remember everything. Just pieces. I think… there were more things the story said, but it’s all a blur now.”

“What happened to the book?” Hyunjin asked.

“No idea,” I.N. admitted. “I don’t remember the title, the cover—nothing. I probably couldn’t even find the shelf it was on. And with millions of books in the Heaven library…”

Jisung groaned. “Yeah, we’d be searching for decades.”

Changbin’s expression sharpened. “Interesting, because in the Underworld, there’s a rumor about a prophecy too. Says…. One day… a prince from our realm would destroy his own kingdom for love.”

Hyunjin scoffed. “That’s dramatic.”

Minho smirked. “Not impossible. I’ve seen the way some people in this group look at each other.”

“It’s impossible,” Jisung said firmly, but there was a strange edge in his voice.

“Exactly,” Hyunjin agreed quickly. “An angel and a demon? No way. Even if two people wanted to, they’d never survive the politics. Both kingdoms would kill them before they could even try.”

“Right,” Seungmin added with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s just a story. Something to keep children entertained. No one actually believes it.”

But the truth was, each of them felt a faint, uncomfortable chill at the thought.

Minho leaned against a tree. “You’re all saying it’s impossible. But you’re also all looking like you’re imagining it right now.”

“Not imagining,” Hyunjin shot back. “Just… thinking how stupid it would be.”

“Stupid, yes,” Jisung said quickly. “And reckless. And—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “And it doesn’t matter.”

I.N. gave a small, humorless laugh. “See? That’s why I never thought about it again. Because it’s just fantasy. Angels and demons don’t fall in love.”

But deep down, none of them fully believed their own words.

Seungmin scoffed lightly. “Well, whatever it is, we can relax. Felix and Chan hate each other…right? They say so. So it’s obviously just a bedtime story.”

No one moved. No one looked convinced. Because Felix had already told his friends how badly he wanted Chan. And Chan had told his own exactly the same thing about Felix. What if it wasn’t just an old children’s tale? What if it was a prophecy? And what if every single word written in that book was true?

They had to find it—no matter what it took.

Chapter Text

The sky in the Heavenly Kingdom was unlike anything Chan had ever seen on Earth or in the Underworld. At sunset, the colors didn’t simply fade from gold to crimson; they dissolved into a soft silver glow that touched everything with a faint shimmer. Even the shadows looked alive, painted with threads of light that seemed to hum with quiet magic.

It was under this ethereal glow that Felix led Chan through the final stretch of marble corridors toward his chamber. Their footsteps were almost soundless on the polished floor, the faint whisper of their robes and boots the only reminder that they were moving at all.

Chan couldn’t stop looking at Felix. Maybe it was the way the fading light framed the angel’s hair like spun gold, or the way those blue eyes reflected the colors of the sunset as if they belonged to it. Whatever it was, it made it almost impossible to breathe.

When they reached the carved double doors, Felix turned the silver handle and gestured for Chan to enter. The demon prince stepped inside. The enormous bed in the center seemed to float, surrounded by a faint mist. The moment Chan saw it, his grin was immediate. He walked straight to the bed and—without hesitation—fell backward onto it with a dramatic flop, his arms outstretched. The mattress dipped and cushioned his body in a way that felt almost unreal.

“Your bed,” Chan said, closing his eyes for a moment and sinking deeper into the comfort, “is dangerously comfortable.”

Felix smirked from where he stood by the door. “That’s because it’s filled with clouds.”

Chan’s eyes flew open. “You’re joking.”

Felix shook his head, stepping closer. “Not at all. Actual clouds. That’s why it’s so fluffy.”

Chan propped himself up on his elbows, unable to stop his eyes from following every movement Felix made as he crossed the room. There was a tension in the air now—not the kind born of danger, but the kind that came from knowing you were exactly where you wanted to be. Felix stopped at the foot of the bed, his gaze meeting Chan’s and holding it. He bit his lower lip—slowly, deliberately.

“You look,” Felix said softly, “really adorable in my bed.”

Chan raised one eyebrow. “Adorable? That’s the word you’re going with? Not sexy? Or hot? Or irresistible? Or…” He tilted his head with mock offense. “The man of your dreams?”

Felix’s eyes darkened into something more predatory, his lips twitching into a faint, dangerous smile. Without another word, he climbed onto the bed, straddling Chan in one fluid motion. The demon swallowed hard, his throat tightening as his mind tried—and failed—to process the beauty above him. Felix’s hair caught the last threads of the sunset like liquid gold; his scent, light and clean, wrapped around Chan like a net he had no wish to escape.

Felix leaned forward, his hands resting lightly on Chan’s chest. “I’m not sure about ‘sexy’ or ‘hot’ yet,” he murmured. “Maybe I should test the firmness of this body before I decide my words.”

Before Chan could reply, Felix’s fingers slid under the hem of his shirt. In a single, smooth motion, the fabric was lifted and pulled away, leaving Chan bare from the waist up.

The angel’s palms pressed lightly against the demon’s abdomen, fingers tracing lines over muscle before his lips followed, pressing soft, slow kisses against warm skin.

Chan let out a breath that was almost a groan, closing his eyes. “You’d better stop,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You have no idea how hard it’s been. Two weeks—two weeks—since you… sucked me…” He trailed off, his jaw clenching. “If you keep this up, I’m not going to be able to stop.”

Felix lifted his head, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes seemed to burn, though not with fire—more like ice melting into water. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That made Chan still. “You…” His voice was low. “You want to go all the way?”

Felix smiled faintly, leaning down to brush a kiss against his lips. It was slow, deliberate, filled with warmth. “In the throne room,” he said softly, “you told me you’d give up everything for me. Tonight, I want to give everything to the man I’m in love with.”

Chan’s heart felt like it was trying to break free of his chest. Every beat thudded so loudly in his ears he was sure Felix could hear it. He reached up, cupping Felix’s face with one hand, his thumb brushing gently over those impossibly soft lips that seemed carved from heaven itself.

“Felix…” His voice cracked on the name, heavy with too many emotions to hold back.

The angel’s breath caught as if the single word had unraveled him. His blue eyes softened, yet shimmered with nervous light, like the reflection of stars trembling in water. He leaned into Chan’s touch, eyelids fluttering closed for a moment as if savoring the feel of those calloused fingers against his skin.

When he opened them again, Chan almost forgot to breathe. The look in Felix’s eyes was both fragile and fierce—a storm of desire tangled with fear.

Their lips met again, and this time it wasn’t hurried or uncertain. It was deep, languid, as if they were learning how to breathe from each other. Chan poured everything into that kiss—his longing, his hunger, his reverence—and Felix responded with trembling lips, his fingers clutching at Chan’s shoulders like he was afraid to let go.

They kissed again, longer this time, a kiss that said everything words couldn’t. Hands moved slowly, reverently, removing layers until both were left in only their underclothes. Skin touched skin, warm and alive. Every kiss, every caress was unhurried, like they were learning the shape of each other for the first time.

Every brush of their mouths sent sparks racing across their skin. Chan felt goosebumps rise where Felix’s fingertips grazed his collarbone, his chest, down the ridges of his stomach. Felix shivered when Chan’s hands skimmed the curve of his waist, thumbs tracing lazy circles over smooth skin. They broke apart just long enough to stare at each other, foreheads touching, breath mingling. Chan searched Felix’s face, memorizing every detail—the flush spreading across his cheeks, the way his pupils widened with every heartbeat, the small tremor in his lips as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t.

“Why are you shaking?” Chan whispered, brushing a kiss over the corner of Felix’s mouth.

Felix hesitated, biting his lip. His body pressed closer, his warmth seeping into Chan, yet his eyes betrayed a storm of hesitation. “Because…” His voice was so faint it was almost lost between them. “Because I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?” Chan tilted his head, his fingers stroking Felix’s jaw with tenderness. “Of me?”

Felix’s eyes widened. “No. Never of you.” He swallowed hard. “Of what you’ll think when you see… all of me.”

Chan frowned softly. “Felix…”

But the angel cut him off, speaking quickly as if the words were fighting to escape. “You don’t understand. Angels—we’re not like the rest, not like humans, not like demons. We don’t fit into the same… the same definitions. We’re not male or female in the way you’re used to. We can… both give life, or carry it. It’s part of what we are. And I—” His breath stuttered, his body trembling more visibly now. “I don’t know if when you see, you’ll still want me. Or if you’ll look at me and—”

He couldn’t finish. Chan frowned. “I’m not following, butterfly.”

Felix’s cheeks were flushed a deep pink, his eyes darting away. The soft golden light of the sunset made him look like something out of a dream—beautiful, fragile, and yet so very real. His underclothes clung lightly to him, and the faint outline of his arousal was clear.

Chan waited, patient.

“I mean…” Felix’s voice was almost a whisper. “I’m scared that if you see all of me, you’ll reject me…”

Chan’s chest ached at the sight of him—his angel, strong and beautiful, trembling with fear of rejection. Slowly, Chan leaned up and kissed him, soft and deliberate, silencing the spiral of his thoughts.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked onto Felix’s with unshakable certainty. “If you think there is anything about you that could make me reject you, then you’re completely wrong. You are the most beautiful being I have ever seen in my life. Every cell in your body, every part of you—it’s perfect to me. Felix, there’s nothing you could show me that would make me want you less. Nothing.”

Felix’s lips trembled, his eyes wet with the shine of unshed tears.

Chan smiled softly, brushing his thumb across his cheekbone. “You don’t ever have to be afraid of me.”

Felix inhaled shakily. He didn’t respond right away, only reached for Chan’s hand, fingers curling around it with desperate strength. Slowly, painfully slowly, he guided Chan’s hand down, slipping it beneath the waistband of his underwear.

Chan’s breath hitched sharply, his eyes widening as his fingers brushed heat, hardness—Wow, the little angel had a hard cock... Uff, delicious.... thought Chan. He continued touching the hardness to move to his balls. Chan's fingers moved nonstop, caressing his boyfriend's cock for the first time. And then… lower, the unmistakable slickness of something else entirely. His lips parted, his chest heaving as realization struck him with a dizzying force.

"Do you have a pussy?" Chan asked in shock.

He nodded. "Angels have both genders: male and female."

Felix froze, watching him with terror in his eyes. His body trembled as if bracing for rejection, for disgust, for Chan to pull away. But Chan didn’t.

A slow, incredulous smile spread across his lips. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he swallowed hard, eyes dark with desire. He lingered there, fingers brushing against Felix's wet entrance and Chan swore that at that moment he could cum just by touching the angel's pussy. Felix moaned.

When he finally looked back at Felix, his gaze was molten, filled with both reverence and hunger.

“Felix,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, “you’ve just given me the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.” 

Felix’s breath hitched, his body taut with disbelief.

Chan’s smile widened, warm and wicked all at once. “Do you even realize what this means? Do you even know how much I’m going to enjoy loving you now? You’ve doubled the ways I can worship you. Double the ways to love you. Double the ways to ruin you. Double the ways to make you mine. You’ve just made me fall for you even harder, angel.”

Felix blinked, stunned—and then let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, relief flooding through his trembling body.

Chan chuckled softly, brushing a kiss against his temple before murmuring near his ear, “And just so you know—I plan to enjoy every side of you. Every single one. You’re irresistible already, Felix. But now? Now I might never let you go.”

Felix’s face burned, but the tears spilling from his eyes were tears of joy. He buried his face against Chan’s neck, shoulders shaking.

“Thank you,” he whispered against his skin. “Thank you for… for not—”

“Don’t,” Chan cut him off firmly, tilting his chin up so their eyes met again. “Don’t ever thank me for loving you. That’s not something you ever have to earn. It just is.... It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

Felix’s breath broke, and with a choked sound he surged forward, kissing Chan with a passion that was almost desperate. Tears streaked his cheeks as his lips moved fervently against Chan’s, gratitude and love spilling out of him with every touch.

Chan kissed him back with equal intensity. He took his hand out from inside Felix's underwear and his hands were roaming Felix’s body reverently. When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Felix’s lashes were wet and his smile trembled with joy.

Chan slid out from beneath Felix and stood up at the edge of the bed. Felix immediately sat up, panic flashing across his face.

“Chan?” His voice was small, breaking. “Are you leaving? Where are you going?”

The demon prince turned back to him, smiling with a love so radiant it made Felix’s heart ache.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said gently. “I just want you to do something for me.”

Felix blinked, chest heaving. “What?”

“I want you,” Chan said slowly, deliberately, “to free your wings.”

Felix froze. “My… wings?”

“Yes.” Chan stepped closer, his eyes burning into Felix’s. “If we’re going to make love for the first time, I want to kiss every part of you. And that includes your wings. Don’t hide them from me. I want them to brush against mine while I make you see the stars.”

Felix’s breath caught violently, his throat tightening. He stared at Chan, overwhelmed by the sheer devotion in his words. How could he be this lucky? How could someone like Chan—dark, dangerous, the prince of the Underworld—look at him as though he were the entire universe? His vision blurred again as tears welled in his eyes. Slowly, trembling, he nodded.

And then, with a deep breath, Felix let go of his restraint. From his back, two vast wings unfurled with majestic grace. White as fresh snow, luminous in the silver glow of night, they spread wide, feathers catching the starlight until they looked like living constellations. They were breathtaking—soft, powerful, sacred.

Chan’s jaw dropped, his breath leaving him in a ragged gasp. “Felix…” His voice was reverent, awed looking at his angel almost naked. “You’re… You’re unreal.”

Then, with a smirk, he let his own magic slip. Dark wings burst from his back, large and magnificent, each feather glossy black edged with faint traces of violet shimmer. They spread wide. Felix’s lips parted, eyes wide at the sight.

Chan grinned, climbing back onto the bed, his wings folding slightly around them both. He settled above Felix, their chests pressed together, their foreheads touching once more. Chan looked at Felix as he removed his own underwear. Felix watched as Chan's boxers slid down his legs and his cock appeared hard and large in front of him. Felix bit his lip.

Chan looked at him, smiling. "You like what you see, don't you, angel?" His hands ran down Felix's waist and his fingers slipped into the waistband. "May I, my love?"

Felix nodded sweetly. "I'm yours, my horny demon. My whole body belongs to you.”

Chan gently pulled Felix's underwear down his legs, then Chan's hands ran up Felix's thighs. Oh my God! Felix, completely naked, was a work of art. The most beautiful being. That angelic face, those breathtaking blue eyes, those plump lips that were Chan's sin, that skin so soft it felt like Chan was touching heavenly velvet, and that wonderful gift of being able to give him a blowjob and eat his pussy.

“Now,” Chan murmured, brushing his lips against Felix’s, “there’s nothing left to hide. Just you and me.”

Their wings shifted, brushing against each other, black and white mingling, soft feathers tangling together as if even their souls longed to touch.

Felix shuddered, tears slipping down his temples as Chan kissed him again—soft, then deeper, then with all the passion they had both held back for too long. Their wings arched over them like a shelter, enclosing them in a cocoon of feathers and love.

As Chan’s hands roamed Felix’s body with worshipful care and Felix clung to him with trembling devotion, there was no Heaven or Hell, no war, no hate, no fear—only two souls colliding, burning, becoming whole. For the first time, they belonged entirely to each other.

Chan’s kisses traveled lower—slow, reverent, worshipping every inch of skin he could reach. Felix gasped, his wings trembling uncontrollably as Chan kissed over his stomach, down his hips, teasing, playful, maddening.

“Chan—” Felix’s voice broke on his name, torn between panic and overwhelming desire.

Chan looked up, his eyes molten. “Trust me,” he whispered. “Let me show you what you are to me.”

And then—Felix’s world shattered. When Chan’s lips finally reached the place Felix had feared revealing, the angel nearly sobbed at the sensation. Every nerve in his body lit on fire, his wings arching high as if reaching for the heavens themselves. Chan took his time. His lips grazed Felix's entrance. He stuck out his tongue and began to gently slide it along the sides. Felix's body trembled, and Felix moaned at the feel of Chan's tongue on his pussy. Chan sucked and licked his clit while his entire mouth encompassed his entrance and he savored the tastiest slick.

“Chan!!…. Oh my god… Chan!!….” Felix moaned aloud.

Chan groaned against him, his whole body trembling with shock and delight. “Gods, Felix…” His voice was ragged, ruined. “You taste—” he broke off with a breathless laugh, “sweet and delicious. Like strawberries and cream. Like caramel. Like something I could live off forever.”

Felix’s eyes widened, tears springing to them, his chest heaving. “The slick of the angels is always sweet…. but you're probably exaggerating… You—you don’t mean that—”

“I mean it,” Chan growled, lifting his head just long enough to look at him, his lips glistening, his expression wild. “Do you realize what you’ve done to me? One taste of you and I’m finished. You’re my new addiction, Felix. Making love to you is going to be my drug, every day, every night. I’ll never get enough of you.”

Felix covered his face with his hands, torn between laughing and crying. The fear that Chan might run had been replaced by something even more overwhelming: the way he stayed, the way he adored, the way he worshipped.

Chan pulled his hands away, kissing him deeply, his tongue sweeping into his mouth so Felix could taste the sweetness too. “See?” Chan whispered against his lips. “Perfection.”

Felix laughed through his tears, clutching him tight. “You’re insane.”

“I’m insane for you,” Chan corrected with a grin, brushing kisses across his jaw, his cheeks, his nose. “Completely gone. Irretrievably yours. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Felix whimpered, trembling under the onslaught of touch and love, his hands buried in Chan’s hair.

“Chan…” Felix whispered, voice breaking. “Why do you love me this much?”

Chan looked up, their faces inches apart again. He smiled, almost boyish but laced with fire. “Because you’re my soulmate. And you are the only thing I’ve ever truly needed.”

Felix’s throat tightened. He kissed him hard, desperate, clinging like he never wanted to let go. Tears welled in his eyes again, slipping down his cheeks even as his mouth moved hungrily against Chan’s.

Chan kissed the tears away, murmuring between kisses, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, angel.… You just need to let me love you.”

Felix’s heart ached so much it felt like it might split in two. He clutched Chan close, burying his face against his neck, whispering with a shaky laugh, “How could I ever be so lucky to find you?”

Chan pulled back, eyes glinting with mischief even through the heat of the moment. “Lucky? No. I’m the one who’s lucky. Do you know how insane it is that I get to love you? That I get to touch you like this? That I get to…” His eyes flicked downward, lips curling into a wicked smirk. “…discover all the ways you’ve been hiding from me?”

Felix’s cheeks flamed red. “Chan!”

Chan chuckled, low and dirty, nipping at his earlobe before whispering, “What? You really thought I wouldn’t notice how perfect you are in every way? Baby, you’ve just doubled the fun for me. I plan to worship every part of you—twice.”

Felix’s blush deepened, but instead of shame, a shaky laugh bubbled from his chest. Relief. Happiness. Desire. He relaxed against Chan, the knot of fear inside him finally breaking apart. Seeing him laugh, seeing that fear melt away—it made Chan’s heart swell until it hurt. He kissed him again, deep and slow, pouring all that love into every press of their lips.

Their wings shifted with the movement, feathers tangling, brushing, wrapping around them until the world outside no longer existed. Only soft white and dark black surrounded them, cocooning them in a shelter of their own making.

Chan trailed kisses down Felix’s throat again, over his chest, down the smooth lines of his stomach. His hands mapped every inch of him, memorizing, claiming, worshipping. Felix writhed under his touch, breath coming in soft, shaky gasps, his wings shivering with every brush of Chan’s lips.  Chan continued kissing every inch of Felix's skin while stroking Felix's cock from base to tip and watching the glistening precum drip from the tip.

Chan groaned against his skin, his whole body shivering. “Gods, Felix…” His voice was thick, almost broken. “Do you even know what you’re doing to me?”

Felix smiled shyly, blue eyes shimmering. “Maybe.”

Chan kissed him again, almost bruising in its intensity, before pulling back to rest their foreheads together. His voice dropped low, rough with desire. “I want you. Every part of you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Felix’s breath caught, tears returning—but this time they were tears of pure joy. “Then take me. I’m yours, Chan. I’ve always been yours.”

Those words undid Chan completely. He pressed his lips to Felix’s again, kissing him slow and deep, reverent and desperate, their bodies molding together, their wings brushing, tangling, embracing just as fiercely as they did.

Chan gazed down at him, breathless, as though he were staring at the most sacred thing he had ever known. Felix’s hands trembled as they traced Chan’s shoulders, his chest, his jaw. His eyes—those endless oceans of blue—shone with nervousness and yearning, vulnerability and trust. He bit his lip, cheeks burning, and whispered, “Chan… I’ve never… not like this.”

Chan leaned down, pressing his forehead to Felix’s, their breaths mingling. “Don’t worry,” he said, voice breaking with the weight of truth. “I will take care of you, my firefly with freckles.”

Felix’s lashes fluttered shut, a tear sliding down the curve of his cheek. Chan kissed it away softly before letting his lips trail down, finding Felix’s mouth again. Their kiss was slow at first, reverent, before deepening with hunger, desperation, the ache of two souls who had been waiting lifetimes for this moment.

As Chan moved closer, their bodies aligned perfectly, like two halves of something that had always been destined to join. Felix gasped at the sensation, his hands tightening on Chan’s back, nails grazing his skin as his wings trembled beneath him. Chan paused, his lips hovering just above Felix’s, searching his eyes one last time.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

Felix’s reply was instant, whispered against his lips, trembling but certain: “I want all of you. Please, Chan… prince of Underworld… I’m yours.”

Their mouths found each other again as Chan took his cock with his right hand and placed it at the entrance to Felix's pussy. He rubbed his cock all over the opening to lubricate his cock with Felix's slick. And slowly entered him, both of them crying out softly into the kiss. Felix clutched at him, gasping at the overwhelming sensation—half pain, half the most exquisite pleasure he had ever known. His wings arched high, glowing faintly in the dim light, as though they could not contain the power of what he felt.

Chan buried his face in Felix’s neck, trembling as he sank deeper into the embrace of the only person who had ever undone him like this. “Gods, Felix…” he groaned, his voice ragged, raw. “You feel like… like home.”

Felix’s eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping free as his body adjusted to the intimacy. His hands roamed over Chan’s back, clutching at him desperately. “Don’t stop,” he breathed, voice breaking. “Please—don’t ever stop.”

Chan kissed his jaw, his cheek, his lips, whispering between kisses, “Never. I’ll never stop loving you.”

And then they began to move together, slowly at first, finding their rhythm. Every thrust was an affirmation, every gasp a prayer. The room filled with the sound of their breathing, their soft cries, the brush of wings against wings. The sensations were overwhelming, but even more powerful was the emotion—like the universe itself had been waiting for them to collide, to burn, to become one.

Felix arched beneath him, his body trembling with each movement, his cries muffled against Chan’s shoulder. “It’s—too much,” he gasped, voice shaking. “You’re—” He broke off, lost in the tide of sensation, tears staining his cheeks as he clung to him.

Chan kissed him through it all, tasting the salt of his tears, holding him as though he could anchor them both. “Let go,” he whispered, his voice low and tender, every word dripping with love. “I’ve got you. Always.”

Their rhythm grew faster, harder, both of them chasing something they had never known before. The world outside the window disappeared; the only reality was the heat of their bodies, the crash of their wings, the unbreakable tether between their souls. Their lips never parted for long—every cry turned into a kiss, every gasp into a whisper of love.

And then, together, they broke. Felix cried out Chan’s name, his entire body arching as if his very soul had been set free. Chan followed with a groan torn from the depths of him, his body shuddering as he held Felix impossibly close, as though he could fuse them into one being. They clung to each other through the storm of release, tears mixing with kisses, laughter breaking through sobs. It was too much, too beautiful, too perfect.

When the world finally stilled, they lay tangled together, wings wrapped like a blanket around their entwined bodies. Felix pressed his forehead to Chan’s chest, still trembling, his lips brushing softly against his skin.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice raw, broken, but filled with the fiercest devotion.

Chan kissed his hair, his cheeks, his lips, whispering back with every ounce of his soul: “I love you more. Always. Forever.”

And in that moment—wrapped in each other’s arms, breathless, undone—they knew they had become one.

_____________________________

The room was quiet at last, save for the faint sound of their mingled breaths and the soft rustle of wings settling against the sheets. Outside, the sky had deepened into twilight, its golden-pink glow spilling gently through the high windows, wrapping them in a warmth that felt both unreal and eternal.

Felix lay half sprawled across Chan’s chest, his cheek pressed against the steady rhythm of the demon’s heartbeat. His lips curved into an uncontrollable smile, one so wide it made his cheeks ache. Chan’s arm was draped possessively around his waist, holding him as though even now, after everything, he was afraid Felix might slip away.

Chan tilted his head down, dark eyes drinking in the sight of the angel in his arms. Felix’s hair was a soft mess, his pale skin still glowing faintly under the aftermath of their closeness, his lips swollen from endless kisses. Chan couldn’t stop looking at him, couldn’t stop marveling at the fact that this wasn’t a dream.

“You’re smiling like an idiot,” Chan teased softly, his voice still hoarse from everything they’d shared.

Felix tilted his head up, grinning. “And you’re staring like one.”

“Fair,” Chan chuckled, pressing a kiss into his temple. “But can you blame me? You just wrecked me completely. Body, soul, sanity… all gone. Thanks a lot.”

Felix laughed, his cheeks flushing pink. “Well... You took my virginity... you were my first time, baby."

"And I'll be the last." Chan added.

"Of course, my little wolf."

Chan hummed in approval, then leaned close to murmur in his ear, his voice dropping to that playful husk Felix had already grown addicted to.

“You know,” he whispered, “with how loud you were, I bet the entire kingdom heard you scream my name tonight.”

Felix’s eyes widened in horror. “What?!”

Chan broke into a wicked grin. “Oh, come on. Half the angels probably think heaven itself was collapsing. Chan, Chan, Chan!” he mocked dramatically, making his voice falsetto.

Felix shoved at his chest, mortified, his face flaming red. “Shut up! The palace is empty, no one heard anything!”

Chan burst into laughter, his whole body shaking with it. “I know, I know. I’m just teasing. But damn, angel, you really could’ve fooled me.”

Felix lifted his head, trying to glare, but Chan caught his lips in a quick kiss before murmuring, “I swear, if you keep making sounds like that, I’ll never let you leave this bed again.”

Felix blushed so hard he thought his skin might combust. But he still smirked, eyes glittering. “Who says I want to leave?”

Chan groaned dramatically, burying his face in Felix’s hair. “Don’t tempt me, angel.”

A moment later, Chan leaned back, his grin returning. “By the way… now I finally understand what Minho and Changbin were talking about when they said angels had something incredibly sweet during sex.”

Felix froze, his entire face turning crimson. “W-what? They—what did they—?”

Chan tilted his head, pretending to ponder. “They never told me about Jisung and Hyunjin's pussy… I never got it before…I couldn't understand what they meant by sweet….  But now? Oh, I get it. They were talking about that sweetness. Your slick…” He smirked wickedly. “You taste like strawberries with cream and caramel. You’re so fucking sweet.”

Felix squeaked, mortified, and shoved his face into Chan’s neck, refusing to look at him. “Shut up, shut up, shut up—!”

Chan laughed loudly, kissing the top of his head. “Don’t hide. It’s a compliment, baby. You’re literally delicious.”

Felix groaned into his skin, but his shoulders shook with laughter despite himself.

Chan’s voice lowered, sultry but playful. “Honestly, Lix, after tonight, I’m convinced your body was made just to ruin me. You’re my new favorite drug. And trust me… I plan on overdosing every single day.”

Felix finally looked up, half-flustered and half-laughing. “You’re impossible! Who even says things like that?”

Chan winked. “Me. The demon prince who’s hopelessly in love with the angel princess.”

Felix gave up trying to fight him and burst out laughing, tears of amusement forming in his eyes. “You’re insane,” he whispered between giggles, and then kissed him, still smiling against his lips.

The kiss slowed, softened, until they were simply breathing each other in again. Chan’s teasing grin faded into something warmer, more tender. He stroked Felix’s cheek with his thumb.

“You know,” Chan murmured softly, “I really do mean it. Every word. I want to make love to you every single day. No excuses, no fears. Just us.”

Felix’s smile faltered, turning bittersweet. He lowered his gaze. “I was such a fool,” he whispered, voice tight. “I wasted so much time being afraid you’d reject me. If I’d just been braver sooner… maybe by now we’d already have had over two thousand rounds together.”

Chan blinked, then burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “Two thousand?!”

Felix flushed, hiding his face again. “Well… maybe!”

Chan grinned so wide his cheeks hurt. He kissed Felix’s temple. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m more than capable of catching up. At my pace, we’ll hit two thousand in less than six months.”

Felix laughed so hard he nearly fell off the bed, his wings twitching uncontrollably with joy. He clung to Chan, hiding his face in his chest again. “You’re the worst!”

“I’m the best,” Chan corrected smugly, kissing his hair. Then his tone softened, love glowing in his eyes as he cupped Felix’s jaw. “But listen to me, Lixie. You really were silly for ever thinking I’d reject you. A body like yours? A soul like yours? Do you know how perfect you are to me? There’s nothing—nothing—you could show me that would ever make me hate you.”

Felix’s throat tightened, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes again. He whispered, “Chan…”

Chan leaned in, kissing him tenderly, slowly, as though sealing his words with devotion. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead to Felix’s and whispered the words that had been burning in his chest for days:

“You’re my soulmate, Felix. My other half. The one I was born to find. And now that I have you, I’ll never let you go.”

Felix’s tears spilled over, but his smile was radiant, brighter than the fading twilight. He cupped Chan’s face with trembling hands, kissing him again with all the love he had inside.

In that moment, in that bed, beneath the soft glow of heaven’s dusk, two souls—angel and demon—finally accepted what the stars had written for them long before: they belonged to each other. Forever.

But then, a sudden thought struck him, sobering him instantly. His eyes widened, and he tensed beneath Felix.

“Oh… shit.”

Felix pulled back, blinking at him in confusion. “What? What’s wrong?”

Chan sat up slightly, running a hand nervously through his hair. His heart was racing again, but for an entirely different reason. “Felix… I—uh—I finished inside you.”

Felix tilted his head, clearly not understanding. “Okay…? And?”

Chan stared at him in disbelief. “And?! Lix, you—you could get pregnant!”

The angel blinked once, then again, before bursting into laughter so sudden and bright it filled the entire room. He clutched his stomach, tears of amusement springing to his eyes. “Oh my god, Chan! You really thought—?”

Chan frowned, flustered. “I’m serious! You said angels can—”

Felix, still laughing, pressed a finger to his lips to shush him. “Chan, love… it’s impossible. You and I? We’re completely different species. It’s like—” He giggled harder, eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s like a wolf and a little chick having a baby together. Not going to happen.”

Chan blinked, then blinked again, before finally exhaling a massive breath of relief. “Oh thank fuck. You nearly killed me for a second.”

Felix was still giggling, his shoulders shaking. “You should’ve seen your face. You were so pale. I thought the mighty demon prince feared nothing.”

Chan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, well, apparently I fear fatherhood before marriage.”

Felix fell against him again, still laughing, pressing soft kisses to his jaw between giggles. “You’re ridiculous... The only way for us to have kids is through adoption or surrogate mothers.”

Chan narrowed his eyes playfully. “Ridiculous, huh? You won’t be saying that when we break the bed tomorrow.”

Felix’s blush returned instantly, his laughter turning into embarrassed little whimpers. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” Chan shot back, grinning smugly.

Felix rolled his eyes but smiled all the same, curling into his chest again, his laughter fading into soft, contented sighs. Chan wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his forehead.

They lay in silence for a long while, the kind of silence that was more intimate than words. Felix traced lazy patterns across Chan’s chest with his fingertip, his blue eyes soft as he studied the man who had just stolen his soul completely.

Felix’s throat tightened. He blinked up at Chan, eyes glossy, and whispered, “You really won’t ever let me go, will you?”

Chan smiled softly, his eyes warm as firelight. He kissed Felix slowly, deeply, sealing the words he breathed against his lips. “Never. You’re my beginning and my end, Felix. My forever.”

Felix’s tears finally spilled, but his smile was radiant. He kissed him again, clinging to him as though anchoring himself in that love.

When they finally pulled apart, the weight of exhaustion began to sink in. Their bodies, still tingling from what they had shared, now demanded rest. Felix nestled closer, his head tucked beneath Chan’s chin, his wings folding protectively around them both. Chan’s arm tightened around his waist, pulling him flush against his side.

“Goodnight, my angel,” Chan whispered, pressing a final kiss to Felix’s hair.

Felix smiled sleepily, his voice soft and tender. “Goodnight, my demon.”

And just like that, wrapped up in each other, hearts and wings entwined, they drifted into the sweetest sleep of their lives.

Chapter Text

The first thing Chan became aware of was warmth. Not the warmth of sunlight through silk curtains, nor the faint glow of heaven’s eternal dawn—though both touched the room softly—but the warmth of a body nestled perfectly against his own.

Felix.

Chan’s eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the pale golden light that seeped into the angel’s chamber. He lay still for a moment, listening to the steady cadence of Felix’s breathing. The angel was fast asleep, curled into him like a precious secret, his pale lashes resting against his flushed cheeks, lips parted just slightly as if still whispering Chan’s name in his dreams.

Chan’s chest ached with affection so intense it nearly undid him. But then his gaze flicked toward the ornate clock on the wall and his stomach dropped. Dawn was breaking fully, which meant that soon—too soon—the palace staff would return to their duties. He had to go.

Chan sighed softly, torn between urgency and desire, and tilted his head to look down at the angel in his arms. Felix looked almost too beautiful to be real. His freckles dusted across his cheeks like stars scattered across twilight. Chan had spent last night tracing them with his lips, worshiping them as though they were sacred. Now, in the quiet morning, he found himself counting them.

One, two, three… all the way to fifty-four. Fifty-four freckles. Fifty-four stars in a constellation only he could see. His favorite constellation. Chan smiled to himself.

And then his eyes fell lower—to Felix’s lips. Soft, pink, swollen from kisses, curved faintly in a dreamer’s smile. Those lips… Chan swallowed hard, memories from two weeks ago crashing into him. Felix on his knees, those lips wrapped around him, eyes wide and innocent but burning with devotion. Chan shivered at the thought, biting back a groan. He hadn’t known bliss could feel like that—until Felix had shown him.

He shook his head quickly, chuckling at himself. “You’re hopeless, Bang Chan…,” he muttered under his breath.

As if sensing the attention, Felix stirred. The angel gave a sleepy little sigh, then cracked one eye open, leaving the other stubbornly shut. He squinted at Chan and offered the tiniest smile, half-asleep and utterly endearing.

“Morning…” Felix mumbled, his voice husky with sleep. He wriggled closer until his entire body was pressed against Chan’s.

Chan’s heart melted instantly. He tightened his hold on the smaller figure, pressing a kiss into his hair. “Morning, angel. Sleep well?”

Felix hummed, eyes sliding shut again as he nuzzled into Chan’s chest. “Mhm. Best sleep of my life. ’Cause you were here.”

Chan’s smile widened, but the clock on the wall tugged at him again, insistent. He lowered his lips close to Felix’s ear.

“Lix… I should go. The servants will be here soon. You told your guards they had a day off, right? They’ll return this morning.”

Felix groaned dramatically, clinging to Chan’s waist tighter. “Don’t go.”

Chan sighed. “Baby… yesterday you were freaking out about me sneaking into the kingdom. You were terrified I’d be discovered and killed on the spot. And now you want me to stay in the middle of the palace until someone walks in?”

Felix opened both eyes now, fixing him with a mischievous stare. His lips curved in that sly smile Chan was beginning to fear and adore in equal measure. “Yes. Because yesterday I hadn’t tasted you yet. And now I have. And after last night…” He dragged his lips teasingly over Chan’s collarbone. “…I refuse to spend even a second without you. Without your kisses, without your hands, without your lips…”

Chan groaned aloud, his hand instinctively tightening on Felix’s hip. “Oh, no. The little angel’s gotten addicted, hasn’t he?”

Felix smirked. “Maybe.”

Chan leaned down, his voice dark and teasing. “Addicted to my—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll kick you,” Felix interrupted, though the blush spreading across his cheeks betrayed how much he liked hearing it.

Chan only laughed, then in one swift move rolled Felix onto his back, pinning him down against the mattress. The angel gasped as his wrists were trapped gently above his head, his body stretched and exposed beneath the demon’s hungry gaze.

“You really are insatiable,” Chan murmured, kissing down the slope of his throat.

Felix arched against him, sighing in bliss. “And it’s your fault.”

Chan’s mouth moved lower, worshiping every inch of bare skin he could reach. Felix shivered beneath the onslaught of kisses, his breath hitching as Chan trailed lower and lower.

“You know I have to go,” Chan whispered between kisses, though his lips betrayed him by refusing to leave Felix’s body.

Felix whined softly, tugging him closer with his legs. “Don’t you dare stop now. Don’t you dare think you can leave me half undone, demon. I am the prince of heaven, and I am ordering you to make love to me again.”

Chan froze, then pulled back slightly, smirking wickedly. “Oh? Since when does the butterfly think he can order the demon around? Cute. Really cute.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, fire dancing in his blue gaze. “If you stop now, you’ll know the true wrath of heaven. I’ll show you what a furious angel looks like.”

Chan bit down on his lip, his pulse quickening at the thought. “God, that’s hot. I need to see that. I need to see you lose it for me, your highness.”

But when he pulled back for a breath, Felix struck first—parting his legs deliberately, revealing himself without shame. Chan’s eyes widened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. He saw Felix's perfect pink cock followed further down by the delicious opening of his pussy. His control snapped like glass.

“…Fuck.”

Felix smirked in triumph.

Chan growled low, then pounced, kissing him with a fervor that stole the air from their lungs. His hands roamed greedily, his body slotting perfectly against Felix’s. “Yes, my princess,” he whispered hotly against his lips. “Give me all the orders you want. I’ll obey every single one.”

Felix laughed breathlessly, already knowing he’d won.

The lovemaking that followed was different from last night’s. Faster, more urgent, more primal. Chan didn’t have the luxury of slow worship this time; dawn pressed at the edges of their stolen moment. He moved with passion and hunger, each kiss fierce, each touch desperate. Felix clung to him, surrendering completely, sighing and gasping as Chan drove him higher and higher.

Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, the mattress creaking softly beneath them. They kissed like men starved, their moans muffled against one another’s mouths, their wings brushing and tangling as if they too couldn’t bear to be apart.

When release finally crashed over them, it was with blinding intensity. They cried out each other’s names, their voices muffled against bare skin, their bodies trembling with the force of it.

And then—silence again. Silence, except for the wild thundering of their hearts and the soft sound of wings settling once more.

Felix lay limp against the sheets, utterly spent, a dazed smile plastered across his face. His hair clung damply to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with satisfaction. “You… are not allowed… to ever leave me like this again,” he panted.

Chan laughed breathlessly, brushing sweaty strands of hair from Felix’s face. “Noted. My angel likes her demon thorough.”

Felix slapped his chest weakly, but his grin betrayed him. Chan pressed a final kiss to his temple, then forced himself to move. He grabbed a warm towel from the washbasin and carefully cleaned Felix’s skin with gentle strokes, earning soft sighs of contentment from the angel. Then he used the towel on himself quickly—there was no time for a full bath.

“Forest showers later,” he muttered to himself as he hurriedly pulled his clothes back on, strapping his dark tunic and boots with practiced speed.

When he finally turned back toward the bed, Felix was watching him with the softest, most adoring gaze Chan had ever seen. His angel looked utterly in love, wrapped in sheets, his freckles glowing faintly in the morning light.

Chan’s heart clenched. He leaned down, pressing a deep kiss to Felix’s lips. “I have to go. But, Lix… please, come back to the forest soon. I’m dying without you when you’re not there.”

Felix reached up, cupping his face, eyes shimmering with devotion. “In two days, my father and my mother return. Then I’ll come to you, Channie. I promise.”

Chan smiled, though his chest ached with longing. “I’ll count the hours.”

Felix pulled him down for one last kiss—sweet, lingering, full of everything they couldn’t yet say. “Goodbye, my love.”

“Goodbye, my angel,” Chan whispered back.

And with one last glance at the bed—the vision of Felix etched permanently into his heart—he slipped out the door, vanishing into the morning light.

__________________________________

Chan opened a hidden breach in the air, weaving shadows with precision until the faint shimmer of the portal revealed itself. He glanced around to make sure no eyes were watching. The palace of heaven lay silent behind him, and his heart tugged toward the angel still lying in bed. But he forced himself forward, stepping into the breach.

A rush of air, a crackle of dark energy, and he was back.

The familiar scent of pine and damp moss filled his lungs as he stumbled into the north wing of the forest kingdom. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Safe. Back home.

He padded quietly down the corridor toward his chambers, exhaustion starting to weigh on him. But just as he reached for his door, three shadows slipped from the hallway.

Minho. Changbin. Seungmin.

Before he could react, they shoved him inside his own bedroom, closing the door behind them with a thud.

Chan blinked, caught off guard. “What the—”

“Where the hell have you been?” Minho demanded, folding his arms, eyes narrowed like a hawk.

Chan’s heart stuttered in panic. He schooled his expression into something casual, running a hand through his messy hair. “I was with Lunarys.”

None of them moved.

Minho’s brow arched. “With your dragon?”

“Yeah,” Chan said quickly, trying not to sound defensive. “I took him out. We hunted. Lost track of time. Ended up spending the night in a cave when it got too late to fly back.”

Changbin snorted, stepping forward until he was right in Chan’s face. “Bullshit. You disappeared for a whole day. Try again.”

Chan forced a nervous laugh. “What do you want me to confess to, huh?”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. His voice was calm, sharp, cutting right through Chan’s flimsy act. “That you went to see Felix.”

Chan froze for half a second before forcing another laugh, louder this time, his hands flying up as if the very idea was ridiculous. “Why the hell would I go see the freckled butterfly? Please.”

Changbin smirked knowingly. “Because you’re madly in love with him, that’s why.”

Chan’s heart lurched so violently it almost knocked the air from his lungs. He clicked his tongue, trying to mask the panic in his voice. “Was. I was. Past tense. Then I talked to you idiots and realized how insane it was. He’s an angel. Our sworn enemy. So I stopped looking at him that way and started focusing on what he really is. The enemy.”

Silence.

Seungmin glanced at Minho and Changbin, then sighed. “The prince is stubborn. He won’t confess even if it kills him.”

Changbin’s grin turned positively wicked. “Then that means if you don’t care about Felix anymore… he’s free game, right?”

Chan’s head snapped up, eyes blazing. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Changbin smirked. “I could bend him over the balcony of this castle, make him scream so loud the whole kingdom would hear. That sweet little body, ruined by me. Why not? He doesn’t belong to anyone… right?”

“Shut your filthy mouth,” Chan growled, voice breaking into a snarl. “If you so much as touch him, I’ll tear your soul out with my bare hands and drown your body in the River of Lost Spirits.”

All three of his friends stared at him with identical smirks, their expressions screaming gotcha.

“Pretty strong reaction,” Minho said casually, crossing his arms. “For someone who supposedly hates the angel. Why do you care if Bin takes him for a ride? Just one night. A bit of fun. Bin gets his fun, Felix moans, then goodbye.”

Chan’s fists clenched. “Because Bin already has Hyunjin. Why the hell would he need Felix too?”

Changbin leaned back, wicked grin widening. “You don’t even know how hard it gets me imagining the three of us together. Me, Hyunjin, and the prince angel. He’d look so good between us…”

Chan’s snarl cut him off. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you ever put your hands on him!”

Seungmin whistled low. “So, you gonna confess now? That you spent last night in heaven with your beloved?”

Chan’s mind betrayed him instantly. Images from the night before flashed like fire: Felix’s soft cries against his skin, his freckles glistening with sweat, the way he clung to Chan as though letting go would end the world. The slick sweetness of his body, the way his lips trembled as he whispered Chan… Chan… No. No one else would ever touch him. And nobody could ever know.

But Chan’s mouth stayed shut. He shook his head furiously. “I was with Lunarys. That’s it. End of story. Now get out—I want a shower and some rest.”

Minho smirked knowingly, stepping closer until he was nose to nose with him. “Sure. Rest. Because that angel of yours kept you up all night, didn’t he?”

Chan’s stomach lurched.

“You’ve tasted it, haven’t you?” Minho’s grin was sharp. “The angel’s sweetness. That slick of his… everyone says it’s addictive. Was it, Chan?”

Chan’s eyes darkened, fury boiling just beneath his skin.

Changbin burst out laughing. “He’s blushing! Oh my god, he really did!” He added another crude comment, something filthy about Felix’s mouth and his perfect little body, and Chan saw red.

Seungmin looked at them a little bit confused. “What are you talking about? What is that sweetness?”

Minho and Changbin looked at each other mischievously, biting their lips, remembering the taste of Jisung and Hyunjin.

"You won't understand until you fuck an angel... Tell I.N. to spread those beautiful legs for you and you'll find out," Changbin said with a wicked smile.

Minho looked at Chan. "But you know what we're talking about, Your Highness... You've already tasted that little angel.”

“Shut up,” Chan snapped, but his voice cracked.

Without another word, Chan shoved all three of them out the door with a force that rattled the hinges. He slammed it shut in their faces, chest heaving.

“Idiots,” he muttered under his breath.

Inside, Chan leaned against the wood, chest heaving. He shut his eyes, and instantly Felix filled his mind. His angel’s freckles, his trembling lips, the way his wings had spread wide as Chan kissed him. The way he whispered Chan’s name like a prayer. And Chan smiled, a dangerous, lovesick smile.

They could tease him all they wanted. They could joke and taunt and prod. But none of it mattered. Because Felix was his. And he would burn down both heaven and hell to keep it that way.

__________________________________

Two days later, the palace of Heaven was filled again with the soft, melodic hum of wings and the echo of laughter. The king and queen had returned from their diplomatic journey, bringing with them the serenity of order and the warmth of their presence.

Inside his chamber, Felix stood before his mirror, folding a tunic neatly into a travel chest. His fingers trembled with anticipation. In just a few hours, he would return to the Forest Kingdom—and to Chan’s arms.

A smile curved across his lips at the thought of him. That beautiful face carved in shadows and fire. The dimples that appeared whenever Chan teased him. Those swollen lips, red and desperate after every kiss. And that tongue—Felix’s breath caught as he recalled the sinful miracles it had worked on his body, heat blooming over his cheeks at the memory.

He shook his head quickly, scolding himself. Not now. Don’t blush like a fool. But he couldn’t stop it—the rush of blood, the warmth in his chest.

The door creaked. Felix spun around just as his mother stepped into the room, her golden robes catching the sunlight like threads of dawn. She smiled softly.

“Mother,” Felix breathed, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around her. She held him close, her embrace smelling faintly of jasmine and morning dew.

“I don’t want you to go again,” she whispered against his hair. “I love having you here, under my protection, where I can see you and know you’re safe.”

Felix sighed, resting his cheek against her shoulder. “I’m not a child anymore. I need to return to the Forest Kingdom. The trials must continue if I’m to secure their alliance in the coming war.”

She pulled back, searching his face with tender eyes. “When did you grow so much? Just yesterday, it feels, you were my baby who cried if I left the room for even a moment.”

Felix chuckled faintly. “Now it’s my turn to help you and Father. You’ve given me everything. It’s time I do something for you.”

His mother’s hand rose to cup his cheek, her touch feather-light. “Whoever becomes your partner, my love, will be the luckiest soul in the heavens. They won’t just be marrying a prince, but a brave, strong angel with a heart unlike any other.” Her smile deepened. “And one day, you’ll make the most wonderful mother. I’ve never doubted it.”

Felix’s heart clenched. Chan. He could only think of Chan. But the thought of confessing, of saying his demon’s name aloud—it made his throat close. It was impossible. If anyone knew, they would slaughter him in the blink of an eye.

Still, the words burned inside him. He longed to cry out, It’s him, Mother. My soulmate is not an angel, but a demon. And I love him more than life itself.

Instead, he lowered his gaze, his voice soft. “Mother… why do we hate demons so much?”

She blinked, startled by the sudden question.

Felix bit his lip, scrambling. “I only mean… If I ever become a mother myself, I don’t want my child to grow up in a world at war. I want peace for our people.”

Her expression darkened. “Peace with demons is impossible. They seek nothing but dominion. They wish to destroy us, every last angel. That’s their nature.”

Felix’s chest tightened. “But… what if not all of them are like that? What if there are some who want peace? Who don’t want bloodshed?”

His mother shook her head firmly. “It doesn’t matter if there is one. One cannot erase the hatred of an entire species. They killed our ancestors, burned our sanctuaries, and defiled our holiest places. They deserve nothing but annihilation. We must wipe them from the world. They bring only pain, lies, and filth.”

Felix bowed his head, biting back the cry in his throat. That’s not true. Chan is not like that. He is good, and kind, and gentle when he holds me. If only you knew him, you would see. You would see how much he loves me…

But no. That moment would never come.

“Do not worry yourself, my son,” his mother said, stroking his hair. “When war comes, we will prevail. And when victory is ours, you will form your family with a worthy angel and reign in peace. You will be happy.”

Felix swallowed hard, forcing a smile, though it ached like glass splintering in his chest.

Happy? Without Chan? Without waking up each morning to his warmth, his kisses, his arms? Without hearing him tease me until I laugh, without his lips pressing against mine like I’m the only thing in his universe?

He would not be happy. He would be empty. Hollow. Because Chan was not just his lover. He was his soul. And Felix knew—he could never live without him.

The door creaked again, and Felix turned. This time, his father entered the chamber, tall and regal in his robes of white and gold. His presence filled the room like thunder cloaked in sunlight, commanding and unshakable.

“What is this?” the king asked with a grin, his deep voice echoing warmly. “A family gathering without me?”

Felix’s mother smiled, gliding toward him. She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. “We were only having a little talk, just mother and son.”

Felix watched them, his lips curving unconsciously. They looked so at ease, so in love after all these years. The way his mother leaned into his father’s side, the way his father’s arm naturally circled her waist—it was a picture of what Felix dreamed of. To grow old with the one you loved, unafraid, unapologetic. But for him and Chan… it was a dream that could never be.

His father’s gaze shifted to him, sharp yet full of pride. “Are you prepared, son? Your journey back to the Forest Kingdom begins soon.”

Felix nodded. “Yes, Father. I’m ready.”

The king crossed the room, placing a firm hand on Felix’s shoulder. His grip was strong, grounding, yet the weight of his words cut Felix like a blade.

“You must win those trials,” his father said, his eyes burning with command. “At any cost. Do you understand me? If it comes down to it, you will have to destroy that demon prince. End him, if you must.”

Felix’s breath caught in his throat. He forced it down, swallowing hard. The image of Chan flashed in his mind—his smile, his touch, his voice whispering I love you in the dark. Destroy him? Never. He could never, in any universe, raise a hand against the other half of his soul.

But he could not say that. He could not reveal the truth. So he simply lowered his head and whispered, “Yes, Father.”

The king’s expression hardened. “Do not be fooled. Demons wear masks. They are all lies, all cruelty, all hunger for suffering. They will play at kindness, play at peace, but it is only poison beneath the surface.” His voice grew colder. “That one—Bang Chan—will try everything to manipulate you. He will twist the trials to his favor. He cannot be trusted.”

Felix’s nails dug into his palms, hidden by the folds of his robes. His heart screamed in silence. You’re wrong. He isn’t like that. He isn’t a monster. He is good. He is mine. If you only knew him—if you could only see him—

But outwardly, he gave nothing away. Just a silent nod.

The king’s features softened slightly, his pride shining through once more. “You are the son every father dreams of. Strong. Loyal. Righteous. I could not be prouder of you.”

His mother looked on, smiling warmly at both of them, her eyes glowing with love. To her, this was a moment of unity. To Felix, it was a moment of quiet suffocation. Because every word his father spoke against demons only made the ache worse. Every insult cut deeper, not into his loyalty, but into his heart—because every fiber of him wanted to leap to Chan’s defense, to shout the truth to the heavens:

He is not evil. He is not cruel. He is my love. My soul. My forever.

But he couldn’t. He stood there, the perfect prince, hiding the perfect lie. And as his father continued to speak of war, of blood, of angels rising above the ashes of demons, Felix only kept repeating one thing silently inside himself, over and over, like a prayer:

I'll fight all of heaven and hell, if necessary, to be with you, Chan

Chapter Text

The horns of the Forest Kingdom rang out, announcing the arrival of a prince from the heavens. All members of royalty stood at the entrance to the grand courtyard, as tradition demanded. The King of the Forest was there, dressed in emerald robes, with his daughters, Princess Jennie and Princess Rosé, standing gracefully at his side.

And among the gathered nobles, angels, and demons alike, stood Bang Chan—the Prince of the Underworld. His arms were folded, his black shirt stretched over firm muscle, his jaw sharp, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the sky.

The air shifted as a white, winged unicorn descended, its hooves glowing as they touched the earth. Upon its back was Felix. His golden hair gleamed beneath the sun, his pale skin radiant, his blue eyes alight with life. He looked every inch the prince, but in Chan’s eyes… he was more than that. He was everything. Chan’s lips parted slightly as he drank in the sight of him. His angel. His Felix. He had returned.

Minho leaned close to him, whispering slyly, “Need a handkerchief, your highness? You’re drooling watching him.”

Chan shot him a side glare, one filled with playful disdain, but his eyes never left Felix. He couldn’t look away.

Felix dismounted gracefully, bowing before the King of the Forest.

“Welcome back to my kingdom, Prince Felix,” the King declared, his voice proud. “I trust you are ready for the final trials?”

Felix bowed lower. “Yes, Your Majesty. I am prepared.”

He greeted the princesses politely before turning, finally, toward the group waiting for him: his friends—the angels Jisung, Hyunjin, and I.N., the demons Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin, and… Chan.

The moment Felix’s eyes landed on him, his heart squeezed tight. Gods, he looked even better than Felix remembered. His shirt clung to his body, every muscle defined, his skin warm, his dark aura only making him more irresistible. I might climax right here just looking at him, Felix thought, his cheeks heating.

But before he could get lost in those thoughts, Jisung and Hyunjin tackled him in a hug, I.N. joining seconds later.

“Felix!” Jisung exclaimed. “Two weeks without you was torture.”

“We missed you so much,” Hyunjin added, squeezing tighter.

“You better not leave us like that again,” I.N. pouted, clinging to him.

Felix laughed softly, his arms wrapping around them all. “I missed you too. More than you know.” But even as he hugged them, his gaze flickered back to Chan—always to Chan.

Then the demons approached. Changbin smirked, clapping him on the back. “Good to have you back, Felix. Seriously, Chan has been unbearable without you around.”

Felix’s eyes widened slightly, glancing at Chan.

“Lies,” Chan muttered quickly, folding his arms tighter.

Minho grinned like a fox. “Ah, right. My mistake. He hasn’t missed you at all… because he literally escaped to Heaven to see you.”

The courtyard fell silent while everybody was watching Felix’s reaction. The words hung heavy in the air. Felix froze, his breath stuttering. His heart raced with panic. He dared a glance at Chan. Chan’s face was calm, unreadable. Only the tiniest shake of his head told Felix what to do. Don’t react.

So Felix did the only thing he could—he laughed. Loudly. Perhaps a little too loudly. “Chan? In Heaven? Hah, don’t make me laugh so early in the morning. If he ever set foot in my kingdom, he wouldn’t be standing here right now. The guards would have locked him up—or worse.”

Chan stepped forward smoothly, his smirk dangerous and sharp. “See? Impossible. What kind of idiot would believe I, the Prince of the Underworld, would set foot in a cotton-candy palace like that?”

The others looked unconvinced, exchanging glances. But none pushed further.

Felix exhaled quietly, relief washing over him. Then he straightened, his chin tilting proudly. “Well, even if we’re enemies, it’s basic manners to greet a prince upon his arrival.” He turned his eyes directly on Chan, his lips twitching upward. “So… hello, Your Highness… Don’t demons know manners?”

Chan’s gaze dragged over him, slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every inch. “I know plenty of manners,” he murmured, lips quirking. “But none of them involve keeping my hands—or my mouth—off pretty little things like you.”

Felix’s brow shot up, but his grin betrayed him. “Pretty little things? You must have a fever, demon.”

“Oh, I'm  just fine,” Chan shot back smoothly. “Especially when you’re flushed like that. Looks like someone enjoyed my words a little too much.”

Felix laughed, shaking his head, trying to cover how warm his cheeks felt. “Gods, you’re insufferable. Is shameless flirting the only language you know?”

Chan’s smirk widened, devilish. “Hardly. I speak plenty of languages. Begging, moaning, licking… sucking.”

Felix nearly choked, biting his lip to keep from melting. He scoffed instead, eyes dancing. “Let me guess. All just filthy nonsense?”

“Not nonsense,” Chan purred, lowering his voice just enough that it curled through Felix’s bones. “Just things you wouldn’t want me saying where everyone could see you blush.”

Felix’s cheeks heated, but his laugh rang out, light and playful, making the others think he was mocking Chan. “Then do us all a favor and keep that tongue of yours to yourself.”

Chan leaned in slightly, close enough that Felix could catch the wicked glint in his eyes. “Oh, angel… my tongue is the one thing I never keep to myself. Especially when it drives someone wild.”

Felix laughed outright this time, shaking his head, though his knees were weak. “You really don’t know when to shut up.”

“And you,” Chan murmured, gaze lingering far too long on his lips, “don’t know when to stop wanting me to keep going.”

The others exchanged glances, unsure if they’d just witnessed another spat or something more dangerous. To them, it was more than venom and rivalry.

And for Chan and Felix? Every barb was foreplay. Every laugh, every smirk, every glance—hunger in disguise.

__________________________________

The steam from the bath still lingered in the air when Felix finished his nightly routine, patting moisturizer into his cheeks in front of the mirror. His golden hair fell in soft waves, his skin glowing in the dim candlelight. He was alone—or so he thought—until he heard the faint creak of the door opening. Then the quiet click of it closing. Then the unmistakable sound of the lock sliding into place.

His heart skipped. His body reacted before his mind could catch up.

He didn’t need to turn to know.

“Chan…” Felix whispered under his breath, the syllable trembling like a secret.

The demon appeared behind him in the mirror, broad shoulders filling the doorway as he approached. In an instant, Chan’s hands slid around Felix’s waist, firm and possessive, pulling him back against the solid heat of his body. His lips grazed Felix’s neck before pressing into it, slow and deliberate. Felix’s eyes fluttered shut, his reflection giving away what his trembling lips tried to hide: how much he craved this.

A soft moan escaped him, unbidden. Chan smiled against his skin, his teeth grazing lightly before kissing the spot again.

“Missed you,” Chan murmured, his voice rough with truth. “Two days without you felt like torture.”

Felix turned in his arms, sliding his hands up over Chan’s shoulders, lingering there as if to reassure himself that the demon was real and here. His gaze softened, drowning in those dark, hungry eyes. “I missed you too,” he whispered. “But we’re together again now. That’s all that matters.”

Chan dipped his head, nuzzling against Felix’s temple, but his tone carried an edge. “Together… but in shadows. They’re starting to suspect something, angel.”

Felix let out a soft laugh, brushing his lips so close they nearly touched. “Let them suspect. As long as I have you tonight, that’s all I care about. Are you going to sleep here with me?”

Chan’s smirk curled slow, wicked, and tender all at once. “It’s not even a choice. I can’t close my eyes without you in my arms.”

Felix’s heart squeezed, and before he could stop himself, he leaned in. Their mouths found each other, lips molding like they were made to fit. The kiss was unhurried at first, a sweet reunion after days apart. Then it deepened—Chan’s hand sliding up Felix’s back, Felix parting his lips to welcome the warmth of him. Their tongues brushed, explored, tangled. Felix sighed into it, melting against him, until breathlessness forced them apart for a moment.

Chan didn’t let go. He gripped Felix’s hips firmly, lifting him with ease until the angel clung to him like a koala, legs wrapping around his waist. Felix laughed breathlessly at the suddenness, clutching at Chan’s neck.

Carrying him with a strength that made Felix’s stomach flip, Chan walked them to the bed and laid Felix down carefully, like he was something precious.

Then, with a mischievous gleam, he hovered above him. “We should just sleep,” Chan teased, voice low and dangerous. “Otherwise, you’ll think I only want you for your body.”

Felix arched a brow, laughter bubbling up even as his body burned beneath the weight of Chan’s. “I’d never think that. But I do need your hands on me… your lips on me…” His voice dipped lower, playful but needy. “…and I need you inside me. If you don’t give me that, I’ll just have to go to the underworld and find another hot demon who—”

He didn’t finish. Chan growled, pinning him harder against the mattress, eyes blazing. “Don’t. You. Dare.” His tone was fire and possession, every word carved with jealousy. “You’re mine, firefly with freckles. If anyone else touched you, I’d lose my mind.”

Felix reached up, pulling Chan closer, his breath mingling with his. “That’s the demon I like. My wolf from hell. Don’t worry, baby… I only belong to you.”

Their mouths crashed together again, hotter, hungrier. Clothes came away in a tangle of eager hands—Felix tugging Chan’s shirt off and biting his lip when the demon’s toned chest was revealed. His palms roamed over every ridge, every muscle, memorizing the body he adored. Chan shuddered, groaning low at the angel’s touch.

Felix’s laugh was soft, wicked, teasing. “Gods, you sound so good when I touch you.”

Chan smirked, lowering his lips to Felix’s ear. “Then touch me more, angel. Make me beg for you.”

Felix flipped the words back, eyes glinting. “I love it when you beg… my demon.”

The next moments blurred into heat and whispers. Felix finished undressing Chan and looked at him naked. How could that man be so fucking sexy? Chan smiled at him and also removed all of Felix's clothes, leaving him naked before his eyes.

Felix climbed on top of Chan and began kissing every part of his body. He continued down his chest, his nipples, his perfectly defined abs, and ended with his lips sweetly kissing the tip of Chan's precum-dripping cock. Chan closed his eyes as he felt Felix's tongue run all over his cock. Felix thrust Chan's cock into his mouth so deeply that he gagged.

"You like it deep, don't you, my little butterfly?" Chan teased.

Felix looked at him out of the corner of his eye and continued thrusting Chan's cock into his mouth until his nose touched Chan's abs. Chan moaned and grabbed Felix by the hair.

"Baby... I won't be able to hold out much longer... your mouth is a heavenly sin," Chan said as he thrust his cock in and out of Felix's mouth.

Felix used his hands to fondle and squeeze Chan's balls while his tongue and mouth continued to play with his cock. After a few more minutes, Chan gripped Felix's hair tighter and unloaded his entire load into the angel's mouth. Felix swallowed it all with a mischievous smile.

Chan quickly flipped them over, placing Felix's back against the mattress, placing himself on top. He grabbed Felix's thighs and lifted them up. He spread his legs while kissing the inside of his thighs. Felix moaned as he saw Chan's head between his legs. Chan continued kissing every inch of his thighs and took Felix's cock in his hand and guided it to his mouth. There he sucked, licked, and devoured it as if he were starving. Felix bit his lip to keep from screaming in pleasure.

When Chan noticed Felix's cock was throbbing and about to cum, he stopped. Felix looked at him as if he wanted to kill him. But Chan had another idea. His lips moved lower and lower, kissing his balls and gently resting on Felix's pussy. He breathed in the scent of his slick, of strawberries and cream and something sweet, and Felix moaned as he felt Chan's breath on that sensitive spot.

Chan stuck his tongue out and devoured Felix's pussy. He licked it eagerly, pushing his tongue deep inside. His mouth was engulfing Felix's entire pussy, and Chan was moving his tongue back and forth, rubbing Felix's sweet slick all over his mouth. Felix was going to die of pleasure. Chan's hot tongue there was the real heaven. Felix grabbed Chan's hair and pulled him closer to his pussy, allowing his tongue to go deeper. Felix moaned as he felt Chan gently bite his clit. Felix couldn't take it anymore.

“Ch….Chan…..GOD….. CHAN!!!” Felix moaned as his pussy throbbed with the best orgasm of his life.

Chan smiled as he heard Felix yell his name and returned to hug him while savoring Felix's sweet slick. “Mmm… delicious, babe….. I swear I'll never get tired of your taste.”

Felix put his hands in front of his face, embarrassed by what Chan was saying. Chan laughed.

“Are you ready for round two?” Chan asked. 

Felix licked Chan's mouth and paused to suck on his lower lip. "I'm always ready with you, Channie."

Chan smiled and took his already hard cock and placed it at the entrance to Felix's pussy. Felix rolled his eyes as he felt Chan's big cock enter him. They made love slowly, bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, passion burning but always softened by love. Every kiss was a promise, every touch a worship. Chan’s voice dipped filthy and raw between gasps—murmuring things that made Felix giggle and blush, only for him to fire back with his own cheeky replies.

And when Felix grew too loud, his cries echoing against the walls, Chan clapped a hand gently over his mouth, smirking down at him. “Shhh, angel. Your friends are right next door. Unless you want them to know exactly how good I make you feel…”

Felix’s laugh was muffled against Chan’s palm, his eyes sparkling with mischief even as his body writhed beneath the demon’s. Enemy, rival, forbidden. But in the dark of that room, with whispers muffled against skin, they weren’t angel and demon. They were soulmates. And nothing—not war, not kingdoms, not gods—could take that away.

Chan felt the walls of Felix's pussy throb and knew he was about to cum. So without warning, Chan inserted a finger inside Felix's ass. Felix moaned as Chan continued to fuck him in his pussy and with his finger inside his ass. The two looked at each other in love, arms around each other and glistening sweat on their bodies.

“I’m gonna cum… Lix….”

Felix looked at him and kissed him while continuing to receive Chan's thrusts. "Together, my love.”

Chan nodded, and after several more minutes, he softly called out Felix's name and came inside the angel. Felix, noticing the hot cum inside his pussy, kissed Chan as a wave of electricity ran through his body and his walls contracted around Chan.

__________________________________

The room smelled faintly of candle wax and the lingering sweetness of their bodies entwined. Their breaths still came in uneven waves, mingling in the quiet. Chan leaned down, pressing a last lingering kiss to Felix’s swollen lips before pulling back just enough to reach for the cloth by the nightstand.

“Stay,” he murmured, brushing damp strands of blond hair from Felix’s forehead. “Don’t move. Let me take care of you.”

Felix’s chest ached at the tenderness in his voice. He lay back against the sheets, watching Chan with heavy eyes as the demon gently cleaned him, each touch slow and reverent, nothing like the fiery urgency from moments before. Chan made sure Felix was comfortable, then wiped himself, tossing the cloth aside before slipping back under the covers.

When Chan returned, Felix instantly curled into his arms, head resting on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Safe. Home.

Chan tilted his head down, lips brushing Felix’s hair as his hand splayed over the angel’s bare back. “You ruin me, you know that?” he whispered, voice still husky from desire. “No one has ever—will ever—make me feel the way you do.”

Felix smiled softly against his skin, tracing lazy patterns over Chan’s chest with his fingertips. “Funny. I was just thinking the same. You were my first and you will be my last. You’re… too good, Chan. Too good at this.”

A smug chuckle rumbled through Chan’s chest. “Mm. Good, huh? You mean in bed?”

Felix laughed quietly, cheeks warming. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Too late,” Chan teased, his smirk audible in his voice. He rolled them just slightly so Felix was caged beneath his arm, gaze heavy, possessive. “Say it. Tell me how good I am. Tell me no one else could ever compare.”

Felix’s laugh bubbled out, but it softened quickly when he saw the intensity in Chan’s eyes. This wasn’t just pride—it was fear hidden behind teasing. Fear of losing him. Felix cupped his cheek, stroking his thumb gently over his jaw.

“No one could ever compare,” Felix said firmly. “Not in this life. Not in any life. You’re the only one who’s ever touched me like this… loved me like this. You’re the only one I’ll ever want.”

Chan exhaled shakily, eyes closing for a moment before pressing his forehead to Felix’s. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re my angel, the love of my life. I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t care about trials, or kingdoms, or gods. You’re mine, Felix. And I’ll fight anyone who tries to take you from me.”

Felix’s eyes stung. He swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, and pulled Chan closer, clinging to him like a lifeline. “And you’re mine. Always. My sexy demon, my love, my everything. I don’t care if the whole world says we’re enemies. They can say whatever they want. I’ll choose you. Every time.”

For a moment, neither spoke. They simply breathed each other in, hands holding, hearts steadying. It was the kind of silence that meant everything.

Finally, Chan broke it, his voice gentler now, almost boyish. “You make me better, angel. You make me believe… that maybe I’m not just a demon. Maybe I can be more. Because you see me. You see all of me, and still…” His voice cracked faintly. “…you love me.”

Felix’s tears finally slipped free, trailing down his cheeks as he whispered, “Of course I love you. How could I not? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Chan.” He kissed him softly, reverently. “If I had to live a thousand lives, I’d find you in every single one.”

Chan’s chest tightened painfully, overwhelmed by the weight of those words. He buried his face in Felix’s neck, holding him impossibly tighter, as if he could fuse them into one. “Don’t let go,” he whispered. “Not ever.”

“Never,” Felix promised, threading his fingers through Chan’s hair.

They lay there for a long while, whispering half-formed words, trading soft kisses between confessions until exhaustion began to steal over them. Chan pulled the blanket higher over them both, tucking Felix firmly against his body.

“Goodnight, angel,” Chan murmured, pressing one last kiss to Felix’s temple. “Sleep in my arms and don’t you dare dream of anyone else.”

Felix chuckled sleepily, nuzzling into his chest. “Goodnight, my little wolf. I’ll only ever dream of you.”

And with that, they drifted off—hearts beating in tandem, arms wrapped so tightly around each other that even sleep couldn’t pry them apart. Two souls, against kingdoms and gods, bound together as true love was always meant to be.

______________________________________

The first light of dawn slipped through the curtains, painting the room in hues of pale gold and rose. Felix stirred first, a quiet breath catching in his throat as he realized he was still wrapped in Chan’s arms, their legs tangled, bare skin pressed to bare skin. He tilted his head slightly, watching the way the sunlight caught in Chan’s dark hair, the way his chest rose and fell in steady rhythm.

Felix smiled, slow and sleepy. “Good morning, my demon.”

Chan’s lips curved, heart swelled at the warmth in his voice, and eyes still half-closed as he hummed. “Mmm. The best morning. Because you’re here.” His thumb traced the outline of Felix’s cheek, tender and unhurried. “Do you have any idea how lucky I feel every time I wake up and you’re still in my arms?”

Felix’s heart fluttered. He leaned forward, kissing the tip of Chan’s nose. “If you’re lucky, then what am I? You’re the most impossible, infuriating, stubborn demon in the realms… and somehow, you’re mine.” 

His fingers traced idle shapes over Chan’s ribs, sending shivers through him. They lay there for a while longer, listening to the faint chirp of birds outside, their breaths and heartbeats falling perfectly in sync. For a moment, the world didn’t exist—just them, cocooned in light and love.

Chan chuckled softly, burying his face in Felix’s hair and breathing him in. “You’re everything. I swear, angel, I never thought I could belong to someone the way I belong to you. It scares me sometimes.”

Felix lifted his head, meeting his eyes with a small, radiant smile. “Don’t be scared. You’re my home, Chan. Wherever you are, I belong.”

For a long moment, they stayed there, forehead to forehead, whispering confessions they’d never dared to voice out loud before.

“I love you,” Chan murmured.

“I love you more,” Felix replied instantly.

“Impossible.” Chan kissed his lips gently. “No one could ever love the way I love you.”

Felix laughed softly, eyes glistening. “Then we’re both fools, because I’d die proving you wrong.”

Felix’s words lingered in the air, heavy with devotion, until silence wrapped around them again, warm and unbreakable. He shifted slightly, his hand trailing over Chan’s bare chest, over the hard lines of muscle, until his fingers brushed the ink that curled just under his collarbone.

Felix paused. The markings were dark against Chan’s skin—three distinct symbols, sharp and ancient, connected like fractured lightning. He traced them lightly, reverently, the way someone might touch something sacred. “I’ve always wanted to ask,” Felix murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. “What does this mean? Your tattoo.”

Chan’s gaze softened, following Felix’s fingers. His chest rose and fell in a slow breath, as though considering how much to share. “It’s written in the tongue of the Underworld,” he explained quietly. “Or… at least, I think it is. Three symbols, like three runes. I carved them into me after a dream I had years ago.”

Felix blinked up at him, curiosity sparkling in those ocean-blue eyes. “A dream?”

“Yeah.” Chan’s lips curved faintly, but his expression was still distant, haunted by memory. “I don’t even know what the symbols mean. I searched for them in every text I could find, every record of our language, but… nothing. It’s like they don’t exist, except in that dream. All I knew is that I woke up shaking, and I felt like I needed them on my skin. Needed to carry them, like they were part of me.”

Felix’s heart clenched at the confession. He let his fingers glide along the first rune, his touch featherlight. “This one…” His voice was barely a whisper, but full of certainty. “It means Felix.”

Chan let out a startled laugh, eyes narrowing in playful disbelief. “What? No it doesn’t.”

Felix ignored him, tracing the second mark with the same delicate care. “And this one… means love.”

“Angel—” Chan tried to cut him off, shaking his head, but there was a smile tugging at his lips.

“And the last one,” Felix continued, undeterred, his finger resting on the final curve of ink, “means… of my life. So together, it says: Felix, love of my life.”

Chan laughed, low and incredulous, his eyes shining as he caught Felix’s hand and kissed his fingertips. “That is not what it says. Stop making things up.”

Felix giggled, his heart bubbling with joy at the sound of Chan’s laughter. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss right over the tattoo, lingering there, lips warm against ink and skin. “Maybe it doesn’t. But maybe it should.”

For a moment, Chan couldn’t breathe. His throat tightened, his chest ached, and he swore the runes burned with heat under Felix’s touch, as though they recognized the angel’s words.

Felix settled back, resting his head against Chan’s shoulder, his hand still splayed over the tattoo. “I hope you find the meaning of that dream someday,” he whispered softly, with a seriousness that melted into his usual tenderness.

Chan tightened his arms around him, holding him closer. “So do I,” he admitted, voice low. His lips brushed Felix’s temple, lingering there. “But even if I never do… you’ve already given it one.”

Felix smiled, eyes fluttering shut, his fingers tracing the lines again as if committing them to memory. “Then let that be enough. My name, our love, your life. I like that meaning better anyway.”

Their lips met again, slow and lingering, before Chan finally sighed, though his arms refused to let Felix go. “I’d give anything to stay here all day with you,” he murmured, lips brushing against Felix’s as he spoke. “But…” He sighed softly, regretful. “I’m a father. Lunarys will be waiting. She needs me.”

Felix smiled, brushing his thumb over Chan’s jaw. “Then let me come with you. It’s been more than two weeks since I last saw her. I miss her.”

That earnest glow in his eyes made Chan’s chest ache. He kissed Felix once, tenderly. “Of course. She’ll be thrilled to see her mom.”

Reluctantly, Felix slipped out of Chan’s embrace and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The morning air was cool against his skin, but he moved with practiced ease, gathering his clothes. Chan stayed sprawled across the sheets, propped up on one elbow, watching him with a gaze that was nothing short of sinful.

“Ahh shit… I can’t walk properly…. Thanks to you.” Felix smirked as he felt the weight of Chan’s stare. “And… You’re drooling.”

“Am not,” Chan said, though his eyes betrayed him, raking over Felix’s body with sinful intent. “But gods, angel… you make it very hard to remember that I’m supposed to be a responsible father right now.”

Felix laughed as he pulled on his trousers, buttoning them deliberately slowly, every movement a tease. “You are the best daddy for our daughter.”

Chan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Doing what?” Felix asked innocently, slipping his shirt over his head, the hem riding up just enough to show the smooth line of his waist.

“Tormenting me,” Chan growled, voice low and rough. “Walking around like that, dressing so slowly… If you kiss me right now while you’re half-dressed, I’ll pin you to that wall and the whole castle will hear who you belong to.”

Felix flushed, but his grin was wicked as he leaned close, lips brushing Chan’s briefly before pulling away. “Don’t tempt me.”

Chan’s breath hitched, his hands twitching against the sheets. “Angel… you’re going to make me lose control.”

Felix winked as he finished buttoning his trousers. “Good. Maybe I like it when you lose control.”

“Felix…” Chan’s tone was half warning, half plea, his eyes dark with hunger.

Felix only smiled, radiant and mischievous, leaning down one last time to press a soft kiss to his demon’s lips. “Come on. Lunarys first—don’t let her starve on my account. Tonight… you can ruin me all you want.”

Chan groaned, collapsing back against the pillows with a laugh that was half exasperation, half pure devotion. “You’ll be the death of me, angel.”

Felix smirked, brushing his hair back as he strode toward the door, his voice light but full of love. “Then I’ll make sure it’s the sweetest death you’ll ever have.”

Chan watched him go, biting his lip, heart pounding with equal parts hunger and love. Gods, he thought, I’ll never survive him.

Chapter Text

The morning air was sharp and clean, carrying with it the scent of thawing earth. Patches of snow still clung stubbornly to the edges of the forest, but the ground between them was softening, muddy and alive with the promise of spring. Every day, the white crust melted more, and with it came the reminder neither Chan nor Felix could ignore: once the snow was gone, the trials would begin again. 

Felix walked close at Chan’s side, their hands intertwined, their steps quiet but steady on the damp earth. He liked the way their palms fit together—warm, familiar, right. A comfort he could hold onto in the uncertain days ahead. 

Chan squeezed his hand once, glancing down at him with a grin that warmed Felix’s chest. “Ready to see her again?” 

Felix’s lips curved into a soft smile, even as his heart fluttered. “More than ready. I’ve missed her.”

Chan lifted his free hand to his mouth and whistled. The sound was sharp, carrying far across the forest clearing. For a moment, the woods were still. Then the air stirred, branches swaying as the beat of massive wings approached. A heartbeat later, a figure broke through the clouds—a flash of silver, glittering like molten moonlight. Lunarys descended with grace, her scales catching the sunlight, casting a glow like liquid stars. She landed with a heavy but elegant thud, her long neck arching as her eyes found them. Felix’s face lit up. He broke into a run, arms outstretched. 

“Lunarys!” But the dragon snorted, stepping back with a deliberate shake of her head. Felix froze mid-step, blinking. His pout was immediate, his lower lip pushing out. “W-what? You don’t want me to hug you?” 

Behind him, Chan chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “She’s sulking.” 

Felix turned, wide-eyed. “Sulking?” 

“Mm.” Chan crossed his arms over his chest, leaning casually against a tree, clearly enjoying himself. “She’s doing to you what she does to me whenever I disappear for a few days. It’s her way of punishing us. Like a cat ignoring its owners for leaving.” 

Felix gasped softly, turning back to the dragon with those wide, imploring eyes that made Chan’s heart ache. “Oh, sweetheart,” Felix murmured, stepping closer but still cautious. His voice dipped into that low, soothing tone that seemed to wrap around everything he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave you. My father ordered me back to the forest kingdom, and I couldn’t refuse. But…” His voice faltered, then steadied again. “But there wasn’t a single day I didn’t think of you. Of you—” his gaze flicked to Chan, tender and raw, “—and of him.” 

Chan’s chest tightened at the words. He watched, struck silent by the sincerity in Felix’s eyes. Lunarys huffed once, tilting her head as if considering his apology. Then, with a sudden rumble of sound, she bounded forward and pressed her massive head into Felix’s chest. Felix laughed, joy spilling from him as he wrapped his arms as far as they would go around her silver muzzle. 

“There you are,” he whispered, kissing her nose. “I promise, I’ll never leave you again. You’re my baby.” 

The dragon gave him a gentle headbutt, enough to make Felix stumble back a step. He only laughed harder, kissing her scales again. Behind them, Chan straightened with mock offense, his voice carrying across the clearing. 

“Hey! None of that. Those lips are mine, angel.” Felix glanced over his shoulder, one brow arched, mischief glimmering in his eyes. 

He pressed another kiss to Lunarys’s nose. “Not today. Today, she deserves all my love. We’ve been apart too long.” 

Chan groaned dramatically, striding toward them. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by both my angel and my dragon in one breath.” 

Felix smirked, still petting Lunarys as Chan reached them. He leaned casually against the dragon’s side, his hand brushing Felix’s wrist with deliberate softness as if to remind him who really claimed him. 

“Come on,” Chan said, his tone light, though his gaze burned. “We’re hunting at the lake today. Think you’re brave enough to join us?” 

Felix blinked. “The lake? Isn’t it still frozen?” 

“Not completely,” Chan replied with a grin. He rubbed a hand affectionately along Lunarys’s neck. “And trust me, you’ll want to see this. Lunarys isn’t like other dragons. She doesn’t dive-bomb for fish. She…” Chan’s grin widened. “She paddles.” 

Felix tilted his head, incredulous. “Paddles?” 

“Like a duck,” Chan confirmed solemnly. “Swims across the top, nice and slow. Only dips her head under when she sees a fish she likes. Never once has she wet her wings.” 

Felix stared at him for two beats before bursting into laughter. “She’s a princess.” 

“A spoiled one,” Chan agreed, smiling as Lunarys preened under the attention. 

He climbed onto the dragon’s back with practiced ease, then extended a hand to Felix. His smile was soft, warm, impossible to resist. Felix’s heart skipped. Every time Chan looked at him like that, like Felix was the only thing worth seeing, he melted a little more. Felix slid his hand into Chan’s, letting himself be pulled up onto Lunarys’s back. He settled in front of him, feeling the heat of Chan’s chest immediately against his spine. Then Chan’s hands came around, resting on his waist, holding him steady. Felix swallowed, shivering at the intimacy. 

“You know,” he murmured, his tone light, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you holding me like that.” 

Chan leaned closer, his breath brushing Felix’s ear. “Good. I don’t want you to. I want you to be undone every time.” 

Felix laughed softly, shaking his head, but he couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. With a low rumble, Lunarys spread her wings and launched into the air. The ground fell away, wind rushing past them. Felix clutched at her scales instinctively, but Chan’s hands tightened on his waist, steady and reassuring. 

“You’re safe,” Chan murmured against his hair. “Always safe with me.” 

Felix’s chest ached with the weight of it—safe, with a demon, when his father’s words still rang in his ears, warning him demons were treachery and cruelty. If only his father knew how wrong he was. 

They flew in silence for a while, the forest stretching beneath them like a living sea, until the glint of water appeared ahead. The lake spread wide, rimmed with slush and snow, but its center rippled dark and free of ice. Lunarys descended gracefully, wings folding as she landed on the water with a soft splash. She floated easily, her scaled legs paddling beneath the surface. 

Felix stared, wide-eyed, as the great dragon drifted like a giant silver swan. “She really does paddle,” Felix whispered, laughing softly. 

“Told you,” Chan said smugly, chin resting briefly on Felix’s shoulder. 

Felix watched in delight as Lunarys trailed across the water, her wings tucked neatly against her back, head dipping now and then. She looked almost playful, like the most dangerous predator in the world had decided today, she would simply be adorable. For a while, they sat in silence, watching her, until Chan’s hands slid more firmly around Felix’s waist. His voice was low, intimate, brushing warm against Felix’s ear.

“I don’t know how I ever lived without this. Without you. Without knowing what real love feels like.”

Felix turned a little in his hold, just enough to catch his eyes. A small, tender smile curved his lips. “And now that you do?” he asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Chan’s chest pressed tighter against his back, his voice rough with truth. “Now I can’t imagine living any other way.”

Felix’s smile wavered, though his gaze remained steady. “My cheesy demon…” Felix said with a smirk. “But babe… then what are we going to do about our friends? They already suspect something. The way they look at us… the questions…”

“I don’t know, butterfly…”

Felix leaned back into Chan’s embrace, drawing strength from the warmth of his arms before whispering, almost timidly, “Chan… maybe we could tell them. Just our friends.… I don’t want to keep hiding from everyone. It hurts too much. My heart feels like it’s going to burst every time I think of you, and I can’t say it aloud.”

Chan stiffened slightly, his hold tightening as though shielding Felix from his own words. “Felix,” he said slowly, his tone edged with reluctance, “you know what I told you once. Changbin, Minho, Seungmin… they’re demons, born and raised to obey my father above all. Even me. If the King of the Underworld suspects anything and asks them directly, they would tell him without hesitation. Loyalty to the crown comes before loyalty to his friend.” His voice grew rough. “If that happened, you and I would be in danger. And I won’t risk that.”

Felix turned in his arms, looking at him with shining eyes, his voice firmer now. “But Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N. are different. They’ve always been there for me. They’re not just comrades, they’re my brothers in everything but blood. I know they would keep our secret. Chan, I want to tell them. I want to say that my heart explodes every time I think of you. That I’m in love with you, hopelessly, endlessly.”

Chan’s lips curved into a teasing smile, his eyes gleaming. “Explodes, huh? Sounds like my angel is more hooked on me than I thought.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed, but his smirk was quick and sharp. “Hooked? If you only knew what I imagine doing to you when I can’t sleep at night…”

Chan barked out a laugh, deep and delighted, pressing his forehead briefly against Felix’s shoulder. “Gods, you’ll kill me… I really need a detailed report of everything you imagine…” But after the mirth faded, he sobered again, returning to the weight of their conversation. He sighed and tilted Felix’s chin so their eyes locked. “Ok, babe…. If you trust your angels with this—truly trust them, with your life—then I’ll swallow my fear about the demons. I’ll tell my friends too. I don’t like it, Felix, but I’ll do it. For you.”

Felix’s breath caught, his chest swelling with love so sharp it almost hurt. He leaned closer, voice trembling with conviction. “I do trust them. With everything I am. And I trust you. Always.”

Chan’s arms tightened, fierce and protective, as if sealing the promise. “Then so be it. Our friends will know. And if the world ever comes for us… I hope… I really hope they’ll be the first to stand beside us.”

Felix smiled. “We will tell them tonight.”

Chan nodded. "As you say, Your Highness.”

"You're easy to convince, demon. I'll have you on your knees before long, obeying my commands," Felix joked.

"I can be on my knees whenever you want, butterfly... But to make you moan with pleasure." Felix gulped as Chan slowly approached his mouth. “I love you and I will always love you, my beautiful angel.”

The words settled between them like a vow. Felix leaned back into him fully then, surrendering to the warmth. The dragon’s tail dipped lazily into the water, sending droplets glittering into the air, but neither prince noticed. Their entire world had narrowed to the curve of Felix’s neck, the steady thrum of Chan’s breath.

Slowly, deliberately, Chan bent his head, his lips brushing the pale skin just beneath Felix’s ear. The kiss was feather-light at first, reverent, as if he were worshiping something too fragile to break. Felix’s breath caught, his lips parting in a soft sigh.

“Chan…” His name fell like a prayer.

Chan’s mouth traced lower, pressing against the slope of his neck, lingering there. A shiver ran through Felix, his body melting back against Chan’s chest. He could feel the faint scrape of teeth, the warmth of each exhale, the way Chan’s lips lingered as though claiming him in silence.

Then, with aching slowness, Chan slid a hand up to Felix’s jaw and turned his face toward him. Felix didn’t resist. Their eyes met—storm and starlight colliding, fire and sky locked in impossible devotion. For a moment, neither moved, both caught in the gravity of what they were, what they couldn’t be, and what they would be anyway.

And then Chan closed the distance. Their lips met in a kiss that was both desperate and unbearably tender. It was not a clash but a surrender, as though the two of them were pouring every stolen moment, every suppressed word, every unspoken vow into the press of their mouths. Felix sighed into him, tilting, giving himself fully, his hands sliding up to clutch at Chan’s shoulders. Chan deepened the kiss slowly, reverently, his lips moving with deliberate devotion, savoring him as if the world could end in that very breath.

The lake, the dragon, the kingdoms, the wars—they all vanished. There was only the taste of each other, the tremor in their bodies, the silent promise thrumming between them: until the end, even in shadows, even against the world, I am yours.

When they finally parted, breathless, Felix rested his forehead against Chan’s, his lips swollen from the kiss, his eyes shimmering like the surface of the lake. “If we are doomed, then let it be together. Let us fight them all. Let us love until the end of everything.”

Chan pressed one last kiss to his lips, fierce and aching. “Until the end, angel… You and me… Even if Heaven and Hell both fall—we will not.”

And on the silver waters, as Lunarys carried them like a vessel of fate, the two princes clung to each other, their forbidden love burning brighter than any crown, any kingdom, any destiny written before them.

__________________________________

The wind sang past them as Lunarys’s wings beat power into the sky, carrying her riders back to the familiar heart of the forest. The dragon’s scales caught the fading light of dusk, scattering molten silver across Felix’s vision as he sat pressed against Chan’s chest. Neither spoke; the silence was charged, alive, thrumming with the things they dared not voice aloud. Chan’s grip around Felix’s waist was protective, fierce, as though holding him together with sheer will.

When the clearing appeared beneath them—their clearing, hidden deep—Lunarys descended. Her talons dug into the earth with a thunderous grace, leaves spinning upward in a whirlwind.

Chan slid off first, his boots sinking into the soft melting snow, his eyes instantly scanning the shadows like the warrior he was. He lifted his arms toward Felix, who still perched atop the dragon’s back.

Felix could have dismounted alone. He had done it before. But today, he chose differently. He leaned forward, sliding down the curve of Lunarys’s scaled flank deliberately until gravity tugged him forward—straight into Chan’s waiting embrace. The demon prince caught him effortlessly, one arm coiled around Felix’s back, the other steady beneath his thighs. Their bodies collided with a soft thud, pressed close, closer still.

A different kind of smile pulled at Chan’s mouth then—not wicked, but hungry, feral, edged with heat that made Felix’s breath falter. His voice, rough silk and full of promise, dipped close to Felix’s ear.

“If you keep throwing yourself at me like this, angel,” he murmured, his breath hot against Felix’s skin, “one of these nights I won’t bother letting you stand again. I’ll lay you flat in the snow and have you begging me to never let go.” Chan kissed his neck slowly.

Felix’s breath hitched, a shiver rushing down his spine. His blush was immediate, but instead of flustered retreat, he met Chan’s gaze with fire sparking in his own. A slow smile curved over his lips.

“And if I told you that’s exactly what I want?” he whispered back, daring, eyes glinting.

For a heartbeat, Chan’s eyes darkened, molten heat threatening to consume. He chuckled low, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “Careful, Lix. Keep tempting me like that and Lunarys won’t be the only one roaring in this clearing…”

Felix bit his lip, laughing softly despite his crimson cheeks. “Such a filthy demon,” he teased. “Good thing you’re my filthy wolf from hell.”

Their laughter mingled, soft but dangerous, and then Felix’s hands lifted—resting on Chan’s shoulders before tugging him down into a kiss. Their mouths met with a tenderness that quickly deepened, tongues teasing, lips pressing harder. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of desperation, of two princes willing to risk the worlds for stolen moments like this.

And then— A sharp cough.

“Ehem…” 

Followed by silence. The world shattered. Felix jerked back instantly, his heart crashing against his ribs so violently he thought it might break through. His body went rigid in Chan’s arms. Slowly, trembling, he turned his head.

Two figures stood in the clearing’s edge. Jennie. Rosé. Their dresses caught faint starlight, their eyes sharp, unblinking. One brow lifted on Jennie’s face; Rosé’s lips pressed thin in unreadable quiet. Time stopped.

Felix’s knees gave out. He nearly collapsed if not for Chan’s arm catching him. His breath came too fast, too shallow, panic clawing up his throat like fire. No. Not them. Not now. Not anyone. If they tell—if they breathe a single word—

Behind them, Lunarys sensed the shift, her throat rumbling with a dangerous growl. She spread her wings half-wide, ready to strike, golden eyes locked on the intruders who had seen too much.

“Lunarys,” Chan hissed, voice sharp. He lifted his hand. “Stop. Do not harm them.”

Felix stumbled forward with him, and together they dropped to their knees before the princesses of the forest. Grass wet with snow clung to Felix’s clothes. He bowed his head so low it nearly touched the ground. His hands shook uncontrollably.

“Your Highnesses,” Chan said, his voice raw but steady. “It is not what it looks like—”

Rosé’s voice cut through him, quiet but absolute. “It is exactly what it looks like.”

Her eyes flickered between them, unwavering. “The Prince of the Underworld and the Prince of Heaven… kissing…”

Felix’s blood turned to ice. He bowed lower, his entire body trembling. He could already see it—his father’s wrath, the gallows waiting, the demons tearing Chan apart limb by limb.

“No… please,” Felix whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. His knees dug deeper into the soil, desperation staining his tone. “Please, don’t tell. I beg you. If our kingdoms know, if the courts know… they will kill us both.” His breath hitched sharply. “I will do anything—just don’t speak of this.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Chan knelt rigid beside him, but even the unshakable prince of shadows had gone pale, his fists clenched so tightly the knuckles blanched white. He bowed his head too, though pride warred in every tense line of his body.

So this is how it ends, Felix thought, a scream stuck in his chest. Not in battle, not with honor—but discovered like thieves in the night. Condemned for loving.

And then—Jennie laughed. Soft at first. Then louder. Until her laughter rippled through the meadow, startling birds from their roosts. Felix’s head snapped up, eyes wide, confusion warring with fear. Chan stared too, disbelief etched into his features.

Jennie pressed a hand to her lips, grinning. “Oh, gods. Finally. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to catch you like this? I knew it. I always knew.” She tilted her head, amused. “The way you look at each other—it’s not hatred. It’s hunger. It’s love. And you thought you were hiding it?” She laughed again. “Please. I’ve been shipping you since the day I met you.”

Chan blinked slowly, trying to process. “Shipping…?”

Rosé exhaled softly, her smile faint but real. “She means she has been rooting for your union. Hoping for it.” Her eyes softened. “And now we see it confirmed.”

Felix’s lips parted, trembling. “You’re not… going to tell?”

“Tell whom? the world?” Jennie scoffed. “Never. Are you insane? Why would we destroy the most adorable love story this world has ever seen?”

Felix’s cheeks burned crimson, torn between mortification and relief. Chan, however, still bristled, suspicious.

Rosé stepped forward then, her expression thoughtful, almost reverent. “Do you know what this means?” she said softly. “If you two—Heaven and Underworld, light and shadow—can find love together, then perhaps there is hope for unity. Perhaps one day, the endless hatred between your kingdoms could end.”

Chan’s laughter was hollow, bitter. He shook his head. “That only happens in fairytales. In the real world, my father would slaughter me the moment he knew. He wouldn’t let me explain. He’d kill me with his own hands for daring to touch an angel.”

Felix swallowed hard, his own voice barely above a whisper. “And mine would lock me away, only to parade me before the kingdom when they hang me as a traitor. To teach every angel what happens when you love a demon.” His chest constricted. “There is no happy ending for us.”

For the first time, pity flickered in Rosé’s gaze. She crouched gracefully until she was level with them. “You’re wrong,” she said gently. “If there is any hope at all to end this war of hatred, it lies in the two of you. You may not see it, but your bond—it is not a curse. It is a miracle.”

Jennie’s smile softened too, though her tone was more playful than solemn. “Exactly. You two are the key, whether you like it or not. And if you need help, you’ll have ours.”

Chan blinked, stunned. His voice dropped, raw. “You’d… help us? Truly?”

Jennie rolled her eyes as if it were obvious. “Of course. Who else would? The rest of your kingdoms are blind with hate. But us?” She gestured between herself and Rosé. “We see clearly. We see love where others see treason.”

Rosé nodded, her voice steady. “You deserve happiness. Eternal happiness, if possible. And though I know ruling together may be impossible now, that doesn’t mean we cannot fight for a place where your love can exist.”

Felix’s throat tightened. He looked up at her, eyes shimmering. “But… why? Why would you risk anything for us?”

Jennie’s answer was quick, fierce. “Because the future changes with you. You may think you’re just two boys in love, but you are also two princes whose choices could shatter the chains of hatred binding our world. We want to see that change. We want to see the peace you could bring.”

Silence hung heavy for a heartbeat, broken only by the faint ripple of the lake behind them.

Then Jennie clapped her hands lightly, as though brushing away the weight. “And besides, I meant it when I said you’re adorable. I’d hate to see the two of you wasted on tragedy.”

Rosé chuckled softly, shaking her head at Jennie’s bluntness, but her eyes shone warmly on the boys. “We’ll protect your secret. Both of us. And more than that—we’ll help you find somewhere safe to be together. Somewhere no one can see you.”

Chan’s brows furrowed, suspicion and hope warring within him. “What do you mean?”

Rosé stood, straightening with regal calm. “The magical elves of the forest can help you. We will ask them to build you a cabin, hidden and warded, where you can be yourselves without fear. It may take days, but it will be yours.”

Jennie added cheerfully, “And until then, you can use the old tower behind the southwest wing of our castle. Nobody goes there. You’ll have it cleaned and furnished as soon as we arrive to the castle. Consider it… your sanctuary.”

Felix’s breath caught. He turned to Chan, his lips parting, disbelief written across his face. “Did you hear that? A place… for us?”

Chan’s eyes were locked on the princesses, unreadable. Slowly, he bowed his head, voice thick with gratitude. “Why? Why give us this gift?”

Rosé’s answer was quiet, but firm. “Because the world needs hope. And you are that hope. Whether you believe it or not.”

Jennie smirked, softer now. “And because we like you. Both of you. You deserve more than shadows and stolen moments.”

For the first time, Felix smiled through his tears. He reached for Chan’s hand, entwining their fingers tightly. His voice shook when he whispered, “Thank you. Truly… thank you.”

Chan’s jaw clenched, his throat working as he fought to speak. Finally, he bowed deeply, forehead nearly touching the earth. “Your Highnesses,” he said, voice raw, “you gift us more than we could ever repay. You grant us hope when we had none.”

Jennie’s voice softened for once, steady and sincere. “Then honor it by surviving. Stay alive for each other. Stay strong. And when the time comes, change the world.”

Rosé’s gaze lingered on them both, her smile luminous. “Together, you will. I believe it with all my heart.”

In that clearing, under the watchful stars, two princes knelt in gratitude before the princesses who had become their allies. The kingdoms above and below still seethed with hatred, but here, for the first time, Felix and Chan felt the possibility of something else. A future. A love strong enough to defy the end of worlds.

Chapter Text

The air was still heavy with the scent of pine and melted frost when they left the clearing. Lunarys stayed behind, stretching her wings wide, frost-dust lifting around her massive body as she shook herself like a cat. The dragon’s golden eyes glowed with a lazy contentment as she settled by the frozen stream, already curling in the snow to bask.

Felix hesitated, watching her. Chan’s hand brushed against his lower back in a fleeting touch that felt like fire against the winter air. Only Jennie noticed.

“You two can stare at each other later,” Jennie teased, pulling her cloak tighter as she started down the path that led back to the castle. “Come on before my toes freeze off. Or should I give you some privacy to… warm each other up?”

Felix flushed scarlet, the tips of his ears burning hotter than the dragon’s breath. “Jennie…”

Rosé laughed softly, her boots crunching in the slush. “Don’t tease too hard. Poor Felix looks like he might faint. Though honestly,” her eyes gleamed as she flicked them toward Chan, “if I’d walked into that kiss, I might have fainted too.”

Felix groaned, burying half his face in his coat. Chan, of course, was utterly unbothered. A slow, wicked smile curved across his mouth, pride lighting his dark eyes.

“You fainted?” he asked Felix in a low murmur, deliberately loud enough for the princesses to hear. “Funny, angel. I don’t remember you fainting. I remember you moaning against my mouth.”

Felix’s elbow slammed into his ribs so fast Chan grunted. Jennie’s laughter rang out like silver bells, echoing through the snowy trees.

“See?” Jennie said, wagging a gloved finger at them both. “You don’t even need us to ship you. You’re doing it yourselves.”

Rosé’s gaze softened. She walked just behind them, her breath puffing white in the cold. “We’ll cover for you. Always. But… be careful. If anyone besides us sees what we saw…” Her voice dipped with quiet weight. “It won’t just be blushes and teasing.”

The joy in Felix’s chest tightened into fear. His hand itched to take Chan’s, to ground himself, but he couldn’t risk it even in front of allies. Instead, he nodded quickly. “We know. Thank you.”

Chan’s response was quieter, rawer: “You didn’t have to help us. But you did. We owe you more than we can say.”

Jennie waved a hand as though brushing the sentiment away. “Don’t mention it. Besides, someone has to make sure the tragic star-crossed princes actually get a shot at being disgustingly happy.”

“Disgustingly?” Chan raised a brow.

Jennie’s lips quirked. “I stand by it.”

The group fell into easy rhythm, boots crunching over patches of half-melted snow. The world smelled of wet earth and resin, branches dripping as frost surrendered to dawn. Felix kept his gaze low, cheeks still warm, but his mind replayed the kiss in the clearing — Chan’s mouth hot on his neck, then on his lips, everything inside him unraveling. He hadn’t known such happiness could feel so much like drowning.

By the time the great castle loomed, stone walls glistening with ice, Felix had managed to steady his breathing. Rosé nudged Jennie, and both princesses exchanged a glance full of mischief.

“Remember,” Jennie whispered as they crossed the bridge to the gates. “Inside those walls, you’re enemies again.”

Chan smirked. “Oh, trust me. No one will doubt it.”

Felix shot him a wary side-eye. Chan’s smirk widened, promising trouble.

The great hall was filled with the smell of roasted bread and sweet winter berries. Firelight flickered against the carved stone walls, throwing shadows across the long table where the king sat at the head. His crown rested carelessly upon his brow, and a half-drained goblet of wine sat near his plate. At a smaller table to the side, the princes’ friends were gathered—Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N. with their angelic glow muted by fatigue, and Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin sprawled opposite them with the casual defiance only demons could manage.

All heads turned as the doors opened and the princesses entered first, followed by Chan and Felix.

“Father,” Rosé said with a bow, Jennie dipping beside her.

Chan and Felix followed suit, kneeling briefly before straightening again.

The king’s sharp gaze swept over them, lingering just a fraction too long on the two princes. “And where have my daughters been wandering this morning?”

Jennie answered smoothly, “Feeding the dragon, father. She prefers the freedom of the forest.”

The king’s sternness softened into something almost fond. “Ah. Then she is well cared for. And it is a welcome surprise to see my daughters and our visiting princes enjoying one another’s company. Who knows—perhaps from such bonds a marriage might someday blossom.”

Heat scorched Felix’s cheeks instantly. He glanced at Chan, who kept his expression carefully neutral, though the slight twitch at his jaw betrayed him. Jennie and Rosé let out light laughter, musical and practiced.

“Oh no, Father,” Rosé said quickly, waving her hand. “They are like the brothers we never had. We could never see them otherwise.”

Jennie nodded emphatically, though a flicker of amusement danced in her eyes.

The king sighed, shaking his head. “A pity, then. Alliances through blood are the strongest of all.”

He glanced at the tall windows, noting the sun’s rise. “You must hurry, daughters. The people await you at the Kingdom's square.”

The princesses bowed again, as did Chan and Felix. Courtesies exchanged, the king and his retinue swept from the hall, leaving warmth and silence in their wake. And just like that, the weight of parental eyes was gone, replaced by the watchful stares of their friends.

Chan and Felix walked toward the smaller table, aware of six pairs of eyes tracking their every step. Hyunjin leaned lazily on his hand, lips curled in faint amusement. Jisung and I.N. whispered to each other until they reached the table. The demons, of course, didn’t bother to hide their smirks.

“Morning,” Felix said smoothly as he took a seat, Chan dropping down opposite.

Hyunjin’s voice came first, teasing. “So… you’re telling me neither of you is tempted by the princesses? Beautiful, brilliant, future queens of the forest—an alliance handed on a golden plate?”

Felix froze only for a second before forcing a scoff. “Tempted? Please. They’re… friends. Nothing more.”

Jisung leaned forward, his grin mischievous. “You’re sure? I mean, the way Jennie smiles, or Rosé—”

Before Felix could answer, Minho cut in, voice dripping with dry amusement. “Don’t waste your breath. He doesn’t even see them. Not when he spends every waking moment burning holes into a certain demon across the hall.”

Changbin chuckled darkly, elbowing Seungmin. “Exactly. How could they bother with the princesses when they’re already too busy making goo-goo eyes at each other?”

Seungmin didn’t even look up from his plate as he muttered, “They’re practically undressing each other with stares. It’s embarrassing.”

Heat flared through Felix’s veins, but he lifted his chin, summoning all his angelic pride. “I—an angel—could never be interested in someone like him. Someone so—so—so—”

His tongue betrayed him. His mind flooded with images: Chan’s body pressed against his, Chan’s lips hot and desperate, Chan’s voice breaking on his name. Words refused to form. Hot? Sexy? Handsome? 

Chan’s smirk widened like a predator scenting blood. He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So irresistible you can’t even finish your sentence, firefly with freckles?”

The table erupted in laughter. Felix’s face burned, but he forced his glare sharp, his lips curling with disdain. “Irresistible? Don’t flatter yourself, demon. You’re so insufferable I’m surprised your own reflection hasn’t walked away from you.”

Chan only laughed. “And yet you keep staring. Every time, without fail. Want me to start charging you for the view?”

Before Felix could talk, Seungmin snorted into his cup. “Please. Look at them. They seem like they are going to start fucking in front of us.”

Changbin barked a laugh. “Exactly. Felix.... You think Chan spends half his nights training? No. He’s probably jerking off imagining your freckles.”

Felix’s fork clattered. “Excuse me?!”

Minho leaned lazily on his elbows, smirk sharp. “Come on, angel. We’re not blind. The tension between you two could melt the snow outside.”

For half a heartbeat, Felix froze. Panic threatened to crush him. Was it time to confess now? He looked around... but everything was full of guards. It wasn't the time.—

Chan’s voice sliced in, dark and smooth. “Tension? The only tension I feel is trying not to strangle him and touch his beautiful neck every time he opens his mouth.” 

Relief whooshed through Felix, mingled with adrenaline. Time to play his part. He narrowed his eyes, heart hammering. “Strangle me? Please. If you laid a hand on me, you’d never recover from the shame.”

“Oh?” Chan leaned back in his chair, lips curling. “What would shame me more? Touching you at all… or wanting to do it again after…. In my bed?”

“Holy hells,” Jisung wheezed. “You two aren’t even trying to hide the kink anymore.”

Felix scrambled, face flaming, but his mouth twisted into a smirk. He couldn’t stop himself. “In your dreams, demon.”

Chan’s gaze burned across the table. “Oh, angel. I already have. I've dreamed of you thousands of times, butterfly.”

Gasps. Laughter. Groans.

Seungmin clutched his cup like a prayer. “Gods above and below. I’m serious — if you two ever actually hook up, none of us are going to sleep for weeks.”

Changbin slapped the table. “Hook up? They’d break the bed on the first night. Felix wouldn’t walk straight for months.”

Felix nearly died on the spot. He opened his mouth to retort, but Chan got there first.

“Months?” His smile was a blade. “Try years. The moment I get my hands on him, he’ll forget how to use his legs.”

The table exploded with whoops and groans. Felix buried his face in his hands — then peeked out, freckles glowing, lips twitching with a smile he couldn’t kill. 

Minho shook his head in disbelief. “I swear, the day you two stop pretending to hate each other, the castle walls won’t survive.”

And through it all, Chan and Felix kept their gazes locked, both barely holding back laughter. Every insult had been a promise. Every “hate” had been a confession. If only their friends knew.

______________________________

Felix pushed back his chair so fast it screeched against the stone floor. His cheeks were still burning from the way Chan’s eyes lingered on him across the table, the way every playful jab carried heat that only he could feel. He needed air, cold water, anything but this suffocating attention.

“I’m going to shower,” he muttered, rising too quickly.

The laughter at the table dimmed for a heartbeat before Minho, cool and feline as always, tilted his head. His voice was casual but sharp enough to cut. “Leaving already? Aren't you taking Chan with you?”

Felix choked on his own spit, nearly stumbling as his ears flamed red. “W–What?!”

The table erupted. Hyunjin slapped Changbin’s arm as both burst into laughter, Jisung nearly toppled off the bench, and Seungmin grinned so wide his dimples cut deep into his cheeks. Even the guards posted near the walls were hiding smiles behind their helmets.

Felix spun toward them, freckles blazing across his flushed face. “We are NOT together!” he shouted, his voice cracking as it echoed across the vaulted hall. A maid froze mid-step, staring at him with wide eyes before hurrying away.

Chan leaned back in his chair, entirely unbothered. His grin was slow, dangerous, like a flame catching dry kindling. “Relax, angel. They’re just teasing.” He let his voice drop low, just for Felix to hear, though he knew the others would catch enough to sting. “Besides, I’m just waiting for you to invite me.”

The laughter doubled. Hyunjin actually slid halfway under the table from how hard he was laughing, and Changbin wheezed beside him.

Felix’s throat worked, caught between fury and panic. “You—!” His glare could have melted steel, but Chan only smirked wider, lounging like a cat who’d cornered his prey. “You are insufferable.”

Chan only grinned wider, lazy and smug. Felix turned on his heel and stormed toward the door, cloak snapping behind him. His boots struck the stone hard, each step a beat of his pounding heart, until the heavy doors shut behind him with a slam.

The echoes died. Slowly, the table quieted, laughter replaced with an uneasy stillness.

Jisung leaned forward, chin in his hand, eyes suddenly sharp. “Do you like him?”

Chan blinked. He hadn’t expected the question—not so soon, not so directly. “What kind of—”

“Don’t deflect,” Jisung interrupted, sharper than usual. “You know what I mean. Do you want him? For real?”

Chan hesitated. The truth clawed at his throat — Yes, more than I want air, more than I want power, more than I want peace itself. He wanted to blurt it out, to stop pretending, to tell them he loved the angel so deeply it frightened him. But he’d promised Felix. Tonight, when they were alone with their friends, they would tell them together.

So he forced a shrug, casual and careless. “What I want,” he said, smirking like it meant nothing, “is the same thing you all have. A good fuck. No strings, no feelings. Just to see what it’s like.”

Silence fell like a blade. Across the table, eyes shifted. Changbin’s laughter had vanished, replaced by a tense glance toward Hyunjin. Hyunjin’s lips pressed together, feathers twitching nervously at his neck. Minho’s sharp gaze flicked toward Jisung, who shifted but didn’t look away. Seungmin’s brows knit faintly as he looked at I.N., whose ears turned red as he dropped his gaze to the table.

Each pair shared the same silent language: That’s not how it feels anymore. Not for us. Not for you.

They weren’t thinking about Chan and Felix—they were thinking of themselves. The stolen touches, the too-long glances, the warmth growing quietly between them. For weeks they had told themselves it was casual, just lust, just tension. But hearing Chan reduce it so bluntly struck something raw in all of them.

Chan looked between their expressions, confusion gnawing at him. Had he said the wrong thing? He was trying to protect the truth, but somehow he’d broken something else.

He rubbed his neck, awkward under the silence, then forced a yawn. “Anyway,” he muttered, glancing toward the massive clock hanging on the wall. “I’m heading to bed. Got up before dawn to feed Lunarys. I’m wrecked.”

No one stopped him. They only nodded faintly, still wrapped in their own unspoken thoughts. Chan left the hall, the heavy doors closing behind him, and the air outside felt no lighter than inside.

_______________________________

Felix, meanwhile, climbed the marble staircase with quick, sharp steps. He was halfway to the southern wing when he remembered Rosé’s words that very morning, spoken with a mischievous smile after she and Jennie had caught him kissing Chan in the forest clearing.

“I’ll have the southwest wing prepared for you,” she had said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Felix’s heart jumped. He turned sharply, cloak brushing the wall as he hurried down a quieter corridor. The scent of lemon and pine oil drifted in the air, sharp and clean—the smell of freshly scrubbed stone.

He followed it past an archway, then another, until a spiral stair climbed upward into a smaller tower. His chest tightened with every step, anticipation carrying him faster. At the top waited a single door. Felix pressed his palm against it and pushed.

The sight inside stole his breath. The chamber was warm, glowing with firelight. Like a small one room apartment with bedroom, kitchen and living room together. A hearth burned brightly, casting golden light over thick rugs and carved wooden furniture. A huge beige sofa in front of a TV. A large bed stood at the center, layered with clean linens and heavy blankets, looking impossibly soft after days of travel. Dozens of candles glimmered on shelves, filling the air with lavender and vanilla. Felix stepped inside, stunned. His gaze fell on a tall wardrobe against the far wall. He tugged it open—and gasped.

Inside hung his clothes. Tunics and cloaks he recognized instantly. And beside them, neat shirts and jackets that belonged to Chan. Their garments side by side, as though they had always been meant to share a life, a space, a future.

His throat tightened. How did they do this in just a few minutes? Jennie and Rosé must have commanded half the castle staff the moment they returned. Or maybe… maybe magic had helped. He shut the wardrobe carefully, almost reverently, before his gaze drifted toward the adjoining door. The scent of mint drifted faintly from beyond.

He stepped into the bathroom and froze again. It was vast, with polished stone floors and walls that reflected the glow of dozens of candles. A massive tub, nearly a small pool, was already filling with steaming water. Glass jars lined the counters, filled with herbs, salts, and oils. The air was fresh with peppermint and sweet eucalyptus.

Felix’s lips parted in awe. Channie… is going to love this.

His hands worked quickly, pulling off his damp clothes. He folded them neatly on a chair, freckles glowing faintly in the candlelight as he stood bare. Then he reached for the jars, dripping oil into the rising water before lowering himself slowly into the tub.

Heat enveloped him instantly, sinking deep into muscle and bone, pulling a sigh of pure relief from his lips. He let his head fall back against the smooth edge, eyes closing. The fire crackled faintly beyond the doorway.

For the first time since the forest, he felt safe. He thought of the wardrobe, of his clothes and Chan’s hanging side by side. He thought of the smirk Chan had given him in the hall, reckless and teasing, like he’d known exactly how to set Felix aflame. A smile tugged at Felix’s mouth as the steam curled around him. If their friends only knew.

Meanwhile, Chan walked the northern corridor with long strides, cloak swaying against his legs. His thoughts were still tangled in the heavy silence at the table, in the way his friends’ eyes had turned inward after his words.

He paused at the base of the northern stair, frowning. Then Rosé’s voice echoed in his mind—her promise that morning, when she and Jennie had caught him kissing Felix. The southwest wing will be ready for you.

His chest tightened. He turned sharply, heading west instead. The air grew sharper, carrying faint lemon and pine. He climbed the spiral stair quickly, heart pounding harder with each step, until he reached the tower door. From within came the faintest sound: water moving, steaming, splashing softly. Chan’s lips curved, slow and inevitable. Felix. His Felix. The love of his life.

_______________________________

The royal carriage rolled steadily along the half-melted snow path, wheels creaking against damp earth and ice. Outside, the forest shimmered with the pale light of noon, but inside, the air was heavy with silence. The king sat opposite his daughters, Jennie and Rosé, his hands resting calmly on his lap, though his eyes betrayed the weight of a question pressing at his chest.

At last, he spoke, his deep voice resonating in the small space. “So? Then?”

The sisters exchanged a glance, one of those wordless conversations only they could have. Rosé gave the slightest nod, and Jennie followed.

“Yes,” Rosé said softly. “It’s true. Felix and Chan are together.”

The king’s lips curved, and he clasped his hands as if in prayer, whispering a quiet thanks to fate itself. Relief and triumph seemed to wash over him in equal measure. 

“Good. Then all unfolds as it was foretold. The prophecy moves closer to fulfillment. The total peace of the realms approaches with them.”

Rosé leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “Prophecy? Father, what prophecy?”

The king’s eyes gleamed, but his expression tightened. He shook his head slowly. “It is confidential. I cannot reveal its entirety. But know this—there exists a prophecy that speaks of an angel with the voice of a demon, and a demon with the heart of an angel. They will fall madly in love, and they will destroy both the heavenly and underworld kingdoms just to remain together. That destruction will bring the end of hatred… and from it, peace will rise. For in the prophecy, the Forest Kingdom stands as their ally.… Chan and Felix’s ally.”

Jennie’s eyes widened, and she tilted her head at him. “Then you knew? You arranged all this? Their stay together here… was it your plan? All this was your idea?”

The king leaned back against the cushioned seat, a rare smile ghosting over his lips. “I knew. I knew that if Prince Chan and Prince Felix lived under the same roof, if their paths intertwined daily, love would bloom. I was not mistaken. Now, all that remains is to trust destiny… and the prophecy. If they are strong enough, if they choose each other above all else, then at last, peace will come.”

Rosé and Jennie looked at each other, not quite believing that this was possible. After what Chan and Felix had told them, that if their kingdoms found out they were in love they would kill them without remorse, they didn't see it possible that they could choose each other and go against everyone. But the prophecy said otherwise... right?

____________________________

Chan stopped at the door Rosé and Jennie had prepared for them that morning. He hesitated, his hand lingering on the carved handle, before pushing it open.

The air inside made him still. The room was unlike anything he had ever seen — warm, soft light glowing from enchanted candles, the stone walls softened by wooden beams and furs, the scent of pine and honey clinging to the air. A wide bed with snow-white sheets invited like a promise, a fireplace hummed with life, and even their clothes hung neatly in the wardrobe as if this space had been theirs forever.

He stood frozen, struck by how home it felt. For a second he let himself imagine it — mornings spent here, nights curled in that bed, laughter spilling in front of the fire. A life that could never exist outside these walls. Then a sound cut through his reverie. Singing. Soft and low, but powerful enough to make the air vibrate. Felix’s voice. Chan’s chest tightened, and before he knew it, his legs were carrying him toward the bathroom. The door was half-open, steam curling out like fingers. He stepped inside and his heart almost stopped.

There he was. Felix sat in a giant tub filled with frothy water, foam rising over his chest, steam blushing his cheeks and dampening the strands of blond hair tied loosely in a bun. His blue eyes, sharp as the winter sky, lifted to Chan the moment he entered. And Chan swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

He could fight armies. He could command shadows. But Felix in that bath was what undid him completely.

The angel smirked faintly, biting down on his lower lip, voice curling like silk. “Earlier, with our friends… I couldn’t say this. But now—” his eyes flicked down, lingering with shameless want before locking back on Chan’s, “—if you’d like to join me…”

Chan’s throat went dry. His demon instincts surged, fire and hunger clawing at his chest. He stepped closer, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, eyes never leaving Felix’s.
“You know, angel,” he said, his voice low and rough, “every time you look at me like that, I wonder how Heaven let you down here unsupervised. One more second, and I might just forget you’re sacred.”

Felix’s smile widened, his pupils dilating, the steam clinging to his flushed face. “Who says I am sacred anymore?” he whispered, not looking away for a second.

Chan’s chest rumbled with a laugh. He stripped bare under that searing gaze, skin prickling under Felix’s attention, and slid into the bath. The water was scalding but nothing compared to the burn in his chest. He settled between Felix’s legs, leaning back until his head rested against the angel’s shoulder, his muscular frame pressed snug against him.

Felix exhaled softly, pressing a kiss into Chan’s damp hair, then trailing lower, behind his ear, his lips lingering against sensitive skin. Chan’s breath caught when Felix’s mouth reached his shoulder, the angel’s arms wrapping tight around him. But even with both arms, Felix couldn’t circle his entire chest — Chan was too broad, too solid.

“How can there be an angel this beautiful,” Chan murmured, his voice rough with awe, “and he still chooses me — a demon with a broken heart?”

Felix stilled, then tilted his head until his cheek brushed against Chan’s. “Don’t say that,” he whispered firmly. “That heart you call broken… it’s the reason I fell in love with you. It’s the heart that always put me before yourself, even when you pretended to hate me.”

Chan turned his head slightly, their faces only inches apart. “My heart’s a flaw among demons, Felix.”

Felix caught his chin, forcing their eyes to lock. His blue gaze burned, clear and unwavering. “Listen to me. You have the sweetest heart in the world. You’ve always seen me. Always chosen me. Even when you shouldn’t have. That’s not a flaw, Chan. That’s everything.”

Chan’s chest clenched, his throat tight as if Felix had ripped every wall he had left. “I never hated you,” he admitted in a whisper. “Not once. From the moment I saw you… you’ve been the air I breathe.”

The words landed heavy, shaking Felix. He shifted, pushing Chan until the demon’s back pressed against the smooth stone edge of the tub. Felix climbed astride him, water sloshing around them, his thighs bracketing Chan’s waist as he leaned close.

“That’s so cheesy,” Felix breathed, but his grin trembled with something raw, desperate. “But I don’t care. I love you more than my life.”

Chan’s hands slid to his hips, squeezing, grounding him. His smile was crooked, aching.
“Impossible. Because I love you more.”

Felix’s laugh broke into a gasp when Chan shifted beneath him, grinding up slightly. Steam curled thick around them, their skin slick with water, lips brushing but not yet meeting.

“Cocky demon,” Felix murmured, biting his lip again.

“Admit it,” Chan growled playfully, sliding his hands lower to grip Felix harder, “you like me cocky.”

Felix leaned in until their noses brushed, his voice dropping low. “Like? No. I’m addicted.”

Chan’s laugh rumbled, and then their mouths finally crashed together. The kiss was wet, desperate, their teeth clashing before their tongues tangled, hungry and unrestrained. The water rocked around them, foam spilling over the edge.

Felix broke away with a sharp inhale, his lips swollen, eyes blazing. “You’re trouble.”

“And you love it… my butterfly….,” Chan shot back, dragging his lips down Felix’s neck, biting gently at the spot behind his ear.

Felix shivered, arching into him. “Fuck, Chan—”

“Language, angel,” Chan teased, though his mouth kept devouring skin, tasting soap and Felix’s heat beneath it.

Felix tugged at his hair, pulling his head back enough to meet his eyes again. His voice dripped with challenge. “You think you’re the only one who can drive me insane? Watch me.”

He surged forward, kissing Chan again, but this time it was rougher, teeth catching his lower lip, tongue pressing deeper. His hands explored greedily, tracing the hard planes of Chan’s chest, slipping over muscles as though he couldn’t decide whether to hold him or claw him apart.

Chan groaned, low and guttural, and retaliated by gripping Felix’s thighs, pulling him down harder against himself. Water surged between them, slapping against the tub’s sides. They broke apart only to breathe, foreheads pressed together, panting.

“Careful,” Chan whispered, smirking, “keep grinding on me like that and we’ll never make it out of this bath.”

Felix licked his lips, smirk curving wickedly. “Who says I want to?”

Felix splashed a handful of warm water straight at Chan’s face, laughing when the demon sputtered and shook his wet curls out of his eyes.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, angel?” Chan’s growl was playful, but there was a dark edge under it. He lunged forward, hands shooting out under the water, finding Felix’s waist. He yanked him down until their bare bodies collided with a wet slap, water surging up the sides of the tub and spilling onto the floor.

Felix gasped, but the sound broke into a breathless laugh as Chan nuzzled into his neck, biting lightly.
“Not so funny now, huh?”

Felix arched against him, his nails dragging down Chan’s chest, leaving faint red lines across the wet skin. His blue eyes burned with fire when he looked down at him.
“Oh, it’s still funny. You’re the one who looks like you’re about to lose control.”

Chan smirked up at him, tightening his grip on Felix’s hips until he ground down against him. Felix’s head dropped back, a sharp breath tearing from his throat.
“Shit— Chan—”

“Language… it’s the second time I told you, angel,” Chan teased again, his lips brushing against Felix’s ear, his voice dripping with heat. “Or should I spank you for it?”

Felix’s laugh turned into a whimper as Chan bit the edge of his jaw. “Try it and see what happens.”

That was all the permission Chan needed. He slapped the water lightly against Felix’s ass, not hard, but enough to make Felix jolt and grab his shoulders, his face flushing a deeper red. The demon grinned in triumph.
“Sensitive, are we?”

Felix leaned forward suddenly, crushing their mouths together in a furious kiss. Their teeth clicked, tongues tangling, Felix tugging at Chan’s hair so hard it made him groan.

“You talk too much,” Felix panted against his lips, before kissing him again, harder, wetter, their lips sliding from the steam and the desperate angle. His hands roamed everywhere — over Chan’s pecs, down his abdomen, squeezing every muscle as though mapping every inch.

Chan could barely breathe with the taste of Felix flooding his mouth. His own hands slid lower, gripping and kneading Felix’s ass under the water, pushing him down against his hardening cock. The friction was unbearable, water rushing between them but doing nothing to dull the desperate grind of skin against skin.

Felix tore away, gasping, his mouth wet and swollen. His eyes were dark with lust, his voice a low growl. “Fuck, I need you—”

Chan grabbed his chin roughly, making him meet his eyes. His own gaze burned, feral. “You have me. Every fucking part of me.” He sealed his mouth over Felix’s again, their kiss a clash of need and surrender.

Felix moaned into it, rocking against him shamelessly now, his thighs squeezing Chan’s hips, his nails digging into his shoulders. Chan’s control slipped further with every grind, every sound Felix made against his lips. He let one hand trail up Felix’s spine, pulling him closer, while the other stayed firm under the water, keeping him grinding exactly where he wanted.

They broke apart only to pant, water dripping from their chins, their lips swollen and bruised. Felix pressed his forehead against Chan’s, whispering raggedly.
“You make me crazy. I can’t stop… I don’t want to stop.”

Chan’s smirk was ruined by how wrecked his voice sounded. “Good. Because I’d burn the whole world if it meant I got to keep you like this.”

Felix whimpered at the words, kissing him again, desperate, almost sloppy. The tub rocked dangerously with their movements, water spilling everywhere, but neither cared. Their mouths and hands were everywhere — kissing, biting, licking, grabbing, leaving no inch of skin untouched.

Chan’s lips trailed down Felix’s neck, biting hard enough to leave marks. Felix cried out, grinding harder, chasing more friction. 

“Bite me.” Felix said.

Chan groaned against his throat.“You love when I mark you, don’t you, angel?”

Felix’s laugh was breathless, broken by a moan. “Maybe I want everyone to see who I belong to.”

The words shattered what was left of Chan’s restraint. He yanked Felix tighter against him, water sloshing violently. Their lips crashed together again, Felix’s legs locking tighter around his waist.

Their kisses turned messier, wetter — mouths opening wider, tongues sliding, Felix moaning into him as if he’d drown without it. Chan’s hands were everywhere at once, gripping his thighs, his waist, sliding up to cradle his face just to kiss him harder.

Felix pulled back, panting, his lips red and swollen, eyes blazing with want. He gave a wicked smile. “Still think you can control yourself?”

Chan laughed, rough and breathless, dragging his thumb over Felix’s wet lower lip before shoving it back into his mouth. “Not with you on top of me, angel.”

Felix sucked the thumb deliberately, eyes locked on his, before letting it go with a sinful little smile. “Good. Then don’t.”

That broke the last of Chan’s control. He surged up, kissing him like a man starved, their bodies colliding again and again, the bath forgotten, the world outside meaningless. All that existed was water and steam and Felix’s taste flooding his mouth.

Their mouths moved desperately, opening and closing as if each kiss wasn’t enough, as if they’d never catch up with how much they craved. Felix’s hands roamed over Chan’s back, nails dragging lightly over slick muscle, pulling him closer with a need that matched his own. When Chan pressed him deeper against the porcelain edge of the bath, Felix gasped into his mouth, their eyes catching for one dizzying heartbeat. And then there was nothing but them.

Chan buried his face in Felix’s neck, whispering broken words between shallow breaths. “I love you… I love you more than anything… I can’t stop—can’t stop needing you.”

Felix’s head fell back, lashes trembling against flushed cheeks, lips parting on a soft cry. His hands clung to Chan’s shoulders as though he’d drown without him. “Then don’t stop. Please, don’t ever stop.” Felix looked at him. “Babe… I want you to fuck my ass today…”

Chan looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

Felix nodded, blushing. "I want to feel your big cock inside my ass.”

Chan took his cock in his hand and guided it to the entrance of Felix's ass. He ran a finger along the rim underwater and pulled it out to bring it to his mouth. Felix looked at him excitedly as Chan savored it.

"Your ass slick is as delicious as your pussy slick." Chan bit his lip.

"I need you, demon... I need to ride you."

Chan didn't wait any longer. His cock slowly entered Felix's ass, fully lubricated by his own slick. The two looked at each other and moaned simultaneously. The water rocked with the rhythm of their bodies moving together, each motion drawing ragged sounds from Felix’s throat, each shift making Chan’s jaw tighten with overwhelming devotion. He kissed Felix’s cheek, his temple, the corner of his mouth, unable to stay away from him for even a second.

Their gazes locked again. Blue met brown, and the world stilled. Felix’s lips trembled as he whispered, “I’ve never felt this alive.”

Chan cupped his face, pressing his forehead to his. “You’re my life, angel. Always have been…”

Felix’s eyes brimmed, shining like the surface of the water around them. He held Chan’s gaze through every tremor, through every desperate movement, as if looking away would shatter him. The sounds they made—low groans, whispered names, stuttered breaths—mingled with the drip of condensation down the tiled walls, filling the air with a music that belonged to them alone.

Chan’s lips found his ear, his words reverent, breaking with each thrust of his body. “Mine… all mine… I’ll never let you go. I’ll spend my life proving to you how loved you are.”

Felix shivered, his voice ragged when he replied, “Then spend forever, because I’ll never stop wanting it. Never stop wanting you.”

Their mouths crashed again, teeth and lips clashing, their gasps spilling into one another’s lungs until they didn’t know whose breath belonged to whom. They moved together faster, harder, water spilling over the edges, the bath echoing with their rhythm. The steam closed in around them, blurring everything except the sight of Felix’s eyes glowing like stars.

It built and built until they were lost, until Felix was crying Chan’s name against his mouth and Chan was groaning into his throat like the sound itself was too much to contain. And when the wave finally broke, it tore them apart and fused them together all at once—an unraveling and a completion, the rawest confession of love they’d ever known.

The bath stilled slowly around them, only ripples remaining, their breaths harsh and tangled. Chan kept Felix in his arms, their skin hot and damp, foreheads pressed together. Neither moved for a long moment, just letting the silence and the closeness settle.

Felix was the first to speak, his voice small but steady. “If this is a sin… then I’ll commit it for the rest of my life.”

Chan closed his eyes, brushing a tender kiss over his angel’s lips. “Then we’ll burn together. And I’ll thank every flame, because it means I have you.”

Felix smiled faintly through his exhaustion, fingertips tracing the line of Chan’s jaw. “My romantic demon…”

“And you love me for it,” Chan teased softly, kissing his nose.

“I do,” Felix whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into him. “More than anything.”

They shifted until Felix was nestled fully against Chan’s chest, head resting beneath his chin, arms locked tight around him. The water had cooled slightly, but neither cared. In the aftermath of their storm, there was only peace.

Chan stroked damp strands of hair from Felix’s temple, pressing a final kiss there as his breathing evened. He whispered, barely audible but certain, “We’ll find a way. For you, for me, for us to be together. I’ll tear down heaven and hell both.”

Felix’s hand tightened faintly over his heart, a silent answer, and then he sighed, content, closing his eyes in the arms of the one who was his soulmate.

Chapter Text

Steam still lingered in the air long after the bath had gone quiet, clinging to the stone walls like a memory that refused to leave. The water sloshed lazily behind them, still carrying the warmth of everything they’d just done, but Chan and Felix had finally pulled themselves away—if only because the water was starting to cool and the weight of what they’d shared left Felix’s legs unsteady.

Chan held him close, one arm around his waist, the other steadying him with infinite patience. Felix stumbled against him with a half-hearted glare.

“Don’t,” he muttered, voice hoarse, cheeks flushed as he tried to stand on his own.

“Don’t what?” Chan asked innocently, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“Don’t look at me like I can’t walk.”

Chan chuckled, brushing his lips across Felix’s damp temple. “But you can’t. Admit it.”

Felix groaned, shoving at his chest with no real strength. “You’re unbearable.”

“Mm,” Chan hummed, leaning close enough that his breath ghosted over Felix’s ear. “Yet you keep begging for me to ruin you.”

Felix slapped a hand over his mouth with an outraged gasp. “Channie!”

Chan’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest, low and pleased. “What? I’m only stating facts.”

“You… demon…—” Felix faltered, words tripping over the heat spreading across his cheeks. He gave up with a strangled noise, hiding his face against Chan’s chest instead.

Chan wrapped both arms around him, pressing a kiss into his damp hair. “Fine, I’ll behave. For now.”

Felix’s muffled voice emerged against his shirt. “For now, he says.”

They dressed slowly, neither of them in any rush. They took the most comfortable and soft clothes they had—linen shirts, warm trousers, thick socks. Felix fumbled with the ties of his shirt, fingers slipping clumsily. Chan leaned against the bedpost, watching with barely disguised amusement.

“You’re hopeless, firefly,” Chan teased finally. “Want me to help?”

Felix shot him a glare, cheeks still tinged pink. “I can do it.”

“Mhm. Of course you can,” Chan drawled, making no move to actually intervene. “Though I don’t mind undressing you again if you’d prefer.”

Felix nearly choked. “Yah!” He spun, hurling a pillow at him. Chan caught it easily, laughing as Felix’s ears turned bright crimson.

“Don’t act so scandalized,” Chan teased, tossing the pillow back onto the bed. “You love it when I tease you.”

Felix crossed his arms, but his lips twitched despite himself. “I don’t….. Well… Maybe.”

Chan grinned, victory shining in his eyes. He stepped forward, tugging the last tie of Felix’s shirt into place, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Perfect.”

When they finally made their way to the wide window, the world outside had transformed. The snowfall from the night before had melted into slush, washed away by a curtain of rain. Droplets pattered against the glass, streaking downward in silver trails. Beyond, the forest blurred into a watercolor of greens and grays, mist rising from the soaked earth.

Felix pressed a hand to the glass, mesmerized. “It’s beautiful…” His voice was reverent, hushed, as though afraid speaking too loud might scare it away.

Chan didn’t even glance outside. His eyes were fixed on Felix—the reflection of stormlight in his blue irises, the way the firelight from the hearth gilded his damp hair, the curve of his lips as they parted in wonder. Chan’s chest squeezed tight, almost painfully.

“How can you love the rain so much?” he murmured, stepping closer.

Felix leaned into the window, his breath fogging the glass. “Because we don’t have it in the heavens,” he said softly. “We live above the clouds. There are no storms, no rain… only endless light. But this—” He closed his eyes, listening to the patter against stone, the rumble of distant thunder. “The smell, the sound… it feels alive.”

Chan slid behind him, wrapping his arms snugly around Felix’s waist, chin resting on his shoulder. “You’re alive. That’s what’s beautiful.”

Felix tilted his head, smiling up at him with eyes that shimmered like the storm. Chan thought, not for the first time, that he would gladly burn the world just to keep that smile.

“Mm,” Chan murmured, brushing knuckles along Felix’s cheek. “If it’s raining, you know what that means?”

Felix arched a brow, curious. “What?”

“It means,” Chan declared solemnly, “we have no choice but to stay inside all day. Wrapped in blankets. Watching movies. Drinking hot chocolate. And—most importantly—staying in my arms the entire time.”

Felix’s laugh rang bright against the muted storm. “That sounds like a dream.”

Chan pressed their foreheads together, his grin tender and teasing all at once. “Then let’s live it, my featherboy.”

________________________________

The morning drifted into late hours wrapped in warmth and domestic chaos.

In the kitchen corner, Felix insisted on cooking. “I will do it,” he said, pointing a wooden spoon at Chan. “I’m in charge.”

Chan raised his hands in surrender but stayed close, chin hooked over Felix’s shoulder as he peered into the bowl.

“Channie,” Felix warned, elbowing him lightly. “Stop breathing down my neck.”

“I’m just supervising, butterfly,” Chan murmured, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

Felix dropped the spoon with a startled noise, whirling around. “Supervising? What?? My ass.”

Chan smirked. “Exactly.” He gave him a gentle pat on the butt.

Felix’s cheeks flamed so red he nearly dropped the flour. “Demon—” He cut himself off, burying his face in his hands.

Chan laughed so hard his shoulders shook, then pulled Felix’s wrists down gently, kissing the tips of his fingers. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

“You’re impossible,” Felix muttered, but his smile peeked through.

They ended up with warm bread and a simple stew, the herbs filling the room with rich, comforting scents. Chan stole pieces of dough every chance he got until Felix smacked his hand with the spoon.

“Wait until it’s ready!” Felix scolded, though he was laughing too hard to sound serious.

When the food was finally done, they carried it to the couch near the hearth. Felix tucked himself against Chan’s side, legs tangled under the blanket, humming happily with every bite.

“I think I like your food more than angelic feasts… The food in your palace was… too sweet,” Chan admitted.

Felix smirked. “Because I made it with a lot of love.”

Chan snorted. “We made it.”

“Mm. But I was the secret ingredient.”

“Shut up.” Chan shoved him lightly, but the grin splitting his face betrayed him.

After the meal, they piled even more blankets onto the couch, dragging pillows until the living space resembled a fortress. An enchanted orb in the corner flickered to life at Chan’s touch, projecting a film across the stone wall. Felix was instantly enthralled. His wide eyes followed the flickering colors, his lips parting in awe. Every laugh, every gasp, every soft “woah” spilled from him like music.

Chan, of course, didn’t watch the movie. He watched Felix. The way the glow played over his freckles. The way his eyelashes fluttered with every shift of light. The way his lips curved when the story made him smile.

Felix caught him staring once, cheeks pinking. “Stop looking at me like that,” he whispered.

“Like what?” Chan’s voice was gentle.

“Like I’m…” Felix’s words faltered. His throat bobbed. “Like I’m your everything.”

Chan brushed his thumb over Felix’s jaw. “Because you are.”

Felix swallowed hard, then kissed him, soft at first, then deeper until the movie was nothing but background noise. Chan pulled him into his lap, hands warm on his waist. Felix clung to him like he was afraid to let go.

When they finally broke apart, Felix rested his forehead against Chan’s, breathless. “You make it impossible to breathe.”

Chan smiled softly. “Good. Because I only want you breathing me.”

Felix groaned, burying his face in his neck. “Cheesy. So cheesy.”

“I know you love me… my freckles”

“…I do,” Felix whispered.

The afternoon passed in a haze. Rain hammered steadily outside, washing away the last of the snow, while inside they lived in their own bubble. Felix dozed off curled against Chan’s chest, lulled by the fire’s crackle and the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Chan stroked his hair, memorizing every strand, every freckle, every sound of Felix’s even breaths.

When Felix stirred awake, he stretched like a cat, yawning into Chan’s neck.

“Comfortable?” Chan teased.

Felix blinked at him sleepily, then crawled fully into his lap without warning. “Better now.” He put his hand inside Chan's shirt, gently touching his abs.

Chan’s breath caught. He laughed softly, kissing his temple. “You’re insatiable.”

“Look who’s talking,” Felix countered with a mischievous grin. “You never stop touching me.”

“Can you blame me?” Chan murmured, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re addictive.”

Felix kissed him again, slow and sweet, until Chan thought he might actually dissolve into the firelight. Evening crept in. Shadows stretched long across the stone walls, the rain softening to a steady whisper. They made hot chocolate together, Felix giggling when Chan smeared whipped cream across his nose.

“Channie!” he squealed, swiping it off and smearing it back across Chan’s cheek.

Chan licked it clean with a wicked grin. “Sweet.”

Felix laughed until he could hardly breathe, clutching his stomach. Chan couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop kissing him between giggles. They curled together in front of the fire again, mugs warm in their hands, wrapped in blankets. Felix tucked his face into Chan’s shoulder, sighing with utter contentment.

“This really is a dream,” he whispered.

Chan kissed his hair, whispering against it. “Then let’s never wake up.”

Felix tilted his face, capturing his lips in a slow kiss that tasted of cocoa and firelight and love. “Not if you’re here with me.”

Chan held him tighter, as if the world outside might try to steal him away. The rain kept falling. The fire kept glowing. And in that room, wrapped in warmth and laughter and whispered promises, there was no heaven or hell, no kingdoms or prophecies—only two souls, hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

___________________________________

Night had fallen softly over the keep, the rain a hushed lullaby against the tower’s stone. Inside, the fire had burned low, casting long, gentle shadows across the walls. Felix sat nestled beneath the thick blanket they’d been tangled in for hours, his legs drawn up beneath him, hair still damp from their shared bath, cheeks pink from warmth and maybe something else entirely.

Chan was sprawled beside him, fingers lazily tracing idle patterns along Felix’s thigh when Felix’s voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Channie,” he murmured, quiet but sure.

Chan hummed, eyes half-lidded as he glanced over. “Mm?”

Felix hesitated only a moment. “Are we going to tell our friends? About… us?” His voice softened on the last word, but his gaze stayed steady, searching Chan’s face with an openness that left no room for evasion.

Chan blinked at him, then sat up slightly, studying him with quiet intensity. “Are you sure you want to?” he asked, voice low. “Do you trust them? Completely?”

Felix didn’t waver. “I do,” he said, nodding once, firm and clear. “With everything I am.”

That was all it took. Chan rose from the couch in one smooth movement, running a hand through his tousled hair as he glanced toward the door. “Then I’ll go get them,” he said. “The angels and the demons—everyone. I’ll be right back.”

Felix stood too, stepping close. He leaned up and kissed Chan sweetly, a soft press of lips that lingered, warm and certain. “That’s for you to remember,” he whispered, “in case you forget me during the minutes we’re apart.”

Chan pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his face in Felix’s hair. “My love,” he murmured, “you are the most adorable being to ever exist.”

Felix smiled, heart aching in the best way, and watched as Chan turned, casting one last look over his shoulder before slipping out through the door.

_________________________________

The corridors were quiet as Chan made his way first toward the north wing, boots echoing faintly against the stone. He headed straight for Changbin’s room, hand half-lifted to knock when he paused. Laughter floated through the heavy wood, voices overlapping in warmth and teasing camaraderie.

He opened the door without knocking.

Inside, all of them were there—the angels and the demons, gathered together in a cozy chaos of blankets, mugs, and stories. Minho was perched on the arm of a couch, smirking as he said something that made Jisung snort into his tea. Seungmin lounged near the fire, book in hand, eyes sharp despite his relaxed posture. Even Hyunjin had abandoned his usual sulking corner to sit cross-legged on the rug, leaning against a sleepy-looking Jeongin.

All heads turned as Chan stepped in.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Minho drawled. “Where have you been all day? You said this morning you were going back to sleep because you got up early to feed your dragon, and then—poof. Gone.”

Hyunjin raised a brow. “Kind of suspicious that Felix disappeared at the same time, don’t you think?”

“I checked his room,” Jisung piped up. “He wasn’t there.”

Seungmin narrowed his eyes, gaze slicing straight through Chan. “Felix was with you, wasn’t he?” he asked, calm but pointed. “You spent the whole day with the angel you claim to hate so much?”

Chan cleared his throat, ignoring the way heat threatened to crawl up his neck. “I need you all to come with me,” he said instead. “There’s something I want to show you.”

The angels and demons exchanged looks.

Changbin crossed his arms. “Not until you tell us where you’ve been.”

Chan’s jaw tightened. “If you follow me, you’ll understand.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, slowly, one by one, they stood. Curiosity won over suspicion, and they fell into step behind him as he led them down the long corridors, past wings most of them rarely ventured into.

The further they walked, the quieter it got. The torches here were fewer, the air cooler, carrying the faint scent of stone and rain. When Chan finally stopped before a heavy wooden door tucked in the far southwest corner of the keep, more than one voice rose in confusion.

“I didn’t even know this part of the castle existed,” Jeongin muttered.

“Where does this even go?” Hyunjin asked.

Chan said nothing, only pushed the door open.

They stepped inside, blinking as their eyes adjusted—and froze.

It wasn’t a room so much as a small apartment, warm and glowing with lamplight. The air smelled faintly of herbs and something sweeter—vanilla, maybe, or cinnamon. There was a bed neatly made, a couch piled high with blankets, a fire crackling softly in the hearth.

And standing in the middle of it all, Felix turned at the sound of the door, eyes wide but smiling, his hands twisting nervously in the hem of his sweater.

Everyone stared.

And then, one by one, their gazes slid to Chan.

No one spoke. Not yet. Not when the silence was full of questions.

Felix stepped forward, voice quiet but clear. “Hi,” he said.

And that’s where we’ll pause—right on the cusp, with every heart in the room holding its breath.

The door closed with a low, deliberate *click*. A sound so ordinary, yet in this moment, it was thunder. The latch slid into place, the outside world locked away, and inside, everything shifted. Chan’s hand lingered on the handle. His back was turned, shoulders rising and falling as if steadying himself against invisible weight. When he finally turned to face them, the glow from the fire bathed his profile, and it became clear: this wasn’t just a room. It was a secret, a declaration.

I.N. stepped forward, his tone cutting through the thick quiet.

“What… is this place? Why bring us here?” His gaze flicked to Felix, already near the fire, haloed by its warmth. “Why are you even here?”

The others followed I.N.’s stare, tension rippling through the group like a wave. Felix took a breath, as though every word weighed tenfold. Then he said it—calm, certain:

“Because from now on, this will be our space. Mine and Chan’s. When we want a moment together. Intimate. Just us.”

The declaration dropped like a spark into dry grass. Silence burned, each of them processing.

Seungmin’s jaw fell open. “Wait. Wait, wait… You mean… you two?” His voice rose in disbelief.

Chan didn’t flinch. He strode across the room, hand outstretched, and Felix’s fingers slipped into his as though by instinct. Dark and light, demon and angel—woven together like they had always belonged. That simple gesture was louder than any confession. The room held its breath and suddenly all of them smiled.

Felix’s lips curved, blue eyes sparkling with equal parts mischief and vulnerability. “You’re really not shocked?” he asked softly. “Not even a little?”

Hyunjin laughed first, tossing his hair back. “Shocked? Please. You two practically radiated longing every time you looked at each other. Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long. We all knew.”

Felix blinked, lips parting, caught between relief and embarrassment.

Changbin leaned back in the armchair, grin spreading slow and wide. “Finally,” he said, then added shamelessly, “Glad the angel’s finally getting the demon’s cock.”

“Changbin!” Felix yelped, cheeks blazing red. A cushion sailed across the room and smacked him square in the chest. He only laughed harder, clutching it to his torso like a trophy.

The dam broke. Jisung leaned so far forward his chair nearly tipped. “Hold on. HOLD ON. You mean to tell me you actually lost your virginity to him?” His finger darted toward Felix, scandalized and gleeful.

Hyunjin and I.N. gasped in mock horror, voices colliding in perfect harmony. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

Felix stuttered, choking on air. His wings threatened to fluff in mortification. He ducked behind Chan, practically plastering himself to his back. “Why are we even talking about this?!” His voice cracked, muffled in the fabric of Chan’s shirt.

Chan’s laugh rolled deep from his chest. He turned his head slightly, lips curled in wicked pride. “Because it’s true. Angel boy couldn’t resist me.”

Felix’s head whipped around, eyes wide, blush spreading down his throat. “Excuse me?! If I recall correctly, it was you who couldn’t resist me.”

Gasps, cackles, whistles. Hyunjin clapped like it was theater. Jisung practically cried from laughing.

Changbin wiped tears from his eyes. “This is better than drama at the palace.”

But then his grin softened, eyes sharpening with seriousness. He leaned forward, elbows resting on knees. “So, for real—are you two together-together? Or is this just… a thing? A fling?”

The question sliced the laughter. Air grew taut. Chan turned to Felix. Their eyes locked. Felix’s breath trembled, chest rising and falling as though the entire universe balanced here.

“Together,” Chan said firmly. He lifted their joined hands and brushed his thumb over Felix’s knuckles, reverent. His voice dropped, steady and resonant. “Because this isn’t some fling. This is everything.” He didn’t look away, not for a second. His gaze was fire and devotion all at once. “Felix… you’ve turned my world upside down. I thought my heart was something broken, something to hide. But then you—” His voice cracked, softened. “You showed me it wasn’t broken. It was waiting. For you. Always for you. I don’t care about kingdoms, crowns, war. If the world burns, let it. Because I already found my forever. It’s you.”

Felix’s eyes filled instantly. His lips trembled, breath catching on a sob that wasn’t sorrow but overflowing joy. He pulled Chan down with sudden ferocity, arms hooking around his neck. Their mouths collided. Not gentle—hungry, desperate. Their lips parted, tongues tangling, teeth clashing. Felix bit his lower lip, and Chan groaned, clutching his waist.

Wolf whistles erupted. Jisung slapped Hyunjin’s arm, squealing. Hyunjin howled. Changbin cheered. Even Seungmin, ever the composed one, let out a startled laugh.

“Holy hell,” Minho muttered, fanning himself. “I’m actually turned on. Thanks for that.”

They broke for air, lips swollen, breaths uneven. Felix’s cheeks glowed crimson, but his grin was dazzling. He turned, only for Minho’s smirk to cut through.

“So that means…” Minho tapped his chin, voice sly. “You’ve tasted the sweetness, haven’t you, Chan?”

Felix froze. “Wha—no—don’t—”

But Chan, smug as sin, tilted Felix’s chin and kissed his flushed cheek. He looked straight at Minho. “Of course I have. And it’s the sweetest thing I’ll ever know.”

The room exploded in laughter, groans, exaggerated gags. Hyunjin rolled on the floor, shrieking. Jisung nearly fell out of his chair.

Seungmin blinked, utterly lost. “Sweetness? What sweetness? What are you all talking about?”

The laughter doubled. I.N.’s ears went red. He wouldn’t meet Seungmin’s gaze.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered quickly. “You’ll… figure it out when the time comes.”

Seungmin’s glare deepened, but his ears were pink now too. “Unbelievable.”

Their laughter softened gradually, tapering into chuckles, sighs. And in that hush, Changbin’s voice landed heavy again. “All jokes aside… what’s the plan? You’re in love, yeah, we can all see that. But you’re not ordinary lovers. You’re heirs. To two thrones that would rather slit each other’s throats than see you touch.”

His words echoed. Silence fell sharp.

Hyunjin leaned forward, serious now. “He’s right. Your families hate each other. Your kingdoms would kill you both before letting you stand like this. You’ll have to lie. Hide. Fight. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes.” Felix’s voice trembled but didn’t waver. His eyes shone, steel beneath the softness. “If it means I get to stay with him, I’ll endure anything.”

Jisung’s arms crossed, expression skeptical. “Anything?”

Chan’s answer came with no hesitation, thunderous. “Everything. Anything. I would betray my kingdom, abandon my crown, burn every bridge—if that’s what it takes to stay with him, I’ll do it. Because he’s not just my love. He’s my destiny. My soulmate.”

Every word vibrated in the air, electric. The fire popped, sparks jumping in agreement. The group went silent. The weight of his declaration pressed into their chests. For a breathless moment, no one moved. But I.N. shifted, heart pounding. His mind whispered the prophecy. A demon with the heart of an angel. An angel with the voice of a demon. Together, they will shatter heaven and hell. He glanced around—Hyunjin’s jaw tight, Minho’s brow furrowed, Jisung biting his lip. They all remembered. But Chan and Felix… they were still caught in each other’s orbit, unaware of the silence’s edge.

Felix turned, hand on Chan’s chest, his voice trembling but sure. “And I love you. More than air, more than my life, more than heaven itself.” His lips brushed Chan’s, soft this time, reverent. “You are my forever, too.”

They kissed again, slower now. Like worship. Like promise.

The others stared, half exasperated, half entranced. Changbin broke first with a groan. “Ugh, they’re going to make me cry and puke at the same time.”

Minho laughed, shaking his head. “Better get used to it. This is our life now.”

And though shadows of prophecy lurked in the back of their minds, though kingdoms loomed like knives in the dark, in this moment there was only firelight, rain against the windows, and two souls who had finally found their home in each other.

_______________________________

The storm rattled the windows, wind shrieking like a warning. But inside the tower chamber, the fire painted everything in honeyed light. The couches were a tangled mess of limbs, cushions, and laughter. The tension between angels and demons had shifted tonight—into something heavier, hotter.

Felix sat on Chan’s lap like he belonged there, the demon’s broad hand spread firmly over his thigh. Chan’s thumb rubbed lazy circles higher and higher, just under the hem of Felix’s tunic.

“Stop it,” Felix whispered, voice trembling even as he leaned into the touch.

“Stop what?” Chan murmured against his ear, deliberately letting his breath brush hot across Felix’s skin. “Touching what’s already mine?”

Felix flushed scarlet. “You’re shameless.”

“Mm.” Chan’s grin was pure sin. “And you love it.”

Across the room, Minho let out a dramatic sigh. “Gods, you two. The rest of us can hear how wet and sweet this is getting.”

Changbin smirked, sprawled lazily with one ankle propped on his knee. “Bet Felix makes the prettiest noises when he’s begging. All that sugar on his tongue, dripping down for Chan.”

Felix nearly choked. “Changbin!”

Hyunjin clapped gleefully, laughing. “I swear, you demons think about nothing but sex.”

“Not our fault you angels blush so easily,” Changbin fired back, licking his lips exaggeratedly. “It’s like an invitation every time.”

“Invitation to what?” Jisung shot back, eyes wide.

“Invitation to ruin you,” Minho drawled from the corner, voice low and dark. “To bend you over until your invisible halo slips off.”

Jisung squeaked, face burning. “That’s—that’s indecent!”

Minho arched a brow, unimpressed. “Then why are you trembling already?”

Jisung made a noise of protest, but his body betrayed him, leaning closer into Minho’s space. The demon’s slow, knowing smile said everything.

Even Seungmin got in on it, though his delivery was cooler, sharper. “I.N., you keep staring at my mouth. Want me to feed you something you can’t handle?”

I.N. blinked innocently, tilting his head. “I was just staring because you never smile.”

Changbin cackled, smacking his thigh. “The baby angel roasted you.”

“Shut it,” Seungmin muttered, but his ears burned bright red.

The demons kept it relentless. Every little motion—a flushed cheek, a quick glance—was pounced on.

Hyunjin tugged his sleeve up, exposing the elegant curve of his neck, just to prove he wasn’t fazed. “You demons only talk. You wouldn’t dare actually try anything.”

Bin was on him in a heartbeat, leaning close, lips ghosting Hyunjin’s ear. “Sweetheart, you’ve already had me in your mouth.”

Hyunjin shoved him back so fast he nearly toppled. “You don’t have to say it like that!”

“Like what?” Bin’s grin was wicked. “Like the truth?”

Felix buried his face in Chan’s chest, mortified. “Why are you all demons like this?”

Chan tipped his angel’s chin up, voice a velvet growl. “Because every time you blush, every time your lips part, you make it so easy. Angels pretend to be pure, but you’re built to be undone.”

Felix’s thighs pressed together reflexively, and Chan smirked, knowing.

The teasing spun until no one could pretend anymore. Secrets spilled—Bin and Hyunjin’s nights together, Minho’s claim on Jisung, even Seungmin’s reluctant admission of wanting I.N.

Felix looked at them all, eyes wide. “Then… we’re all guilty. Every one of us, falling for the wrong side.”

Chan kissed him fiercely, swallowing his trembling confession. When they broke apart, his voice was fire. “Then let us be guilty. I’d rather burn in every hell that exists than let you go.”

The room fell into silence—until Minho leaned back, lips curling. “Since we’re all damned anyway… anyone want to turn this into a full group thing? Gang bang, angels in the middle.”

Changbin whistled low. “Now that’s an idea. See how long they last.”

Seungmin smirked faintly. “Bet they’d crack in minutes.”

Hyunjin hurled a pillow at them. “In your dreams, demons.”

Jisung groaned into his hands. “You’re all filthy.”

I.N. rolled his eyes but squeezed Seungmin’s hand. 

Felix, flushed and breathless, muttered into Chan’s chest, “Hopeless. All of you.”

But his smile was radiant. For one night, angels and demons laughed in the same firelight, their vows and sins tangled together.

Chapter Text

The fire snapped in the hearth, scattering flecks of gold across the walls of Felix and Chan’s hidden chamber. Outside, the storm had thickened, rain melting what snow remained, but inside the air was heavy, charged with more than warmth.

Chan’s hand slid firmly into Felix’s, his thumb brushing the angel’s knuckles, almost reverently. He drew in a breath, his voice dropping low, intimate yet commanding.

“Please,” Chan said, and the word startled everyone—it wasn’t often a demon prince begged. His eyes locked on each of his friends in turn. “I’m asking you, not as the heir to the Underworld, not as your commander—but as your brother. Not a word of this leaves this room. Not one whisper. Not one hint. Especially not in the Underworld.”

He squeezed Felix’s hand tighter, the tendons in his jaw tightening. “If anyone even suspects… if our kingdom finds out , or worse, if my father finds out…” His voice broke for a second, but he steadied it, fierce again. “They will destroy us… And I swear that before they touch him, they’ll have to kill me. Because I won’t let them lay a single finger on him. Not now, not ever.”

Felix’s lips parted, his heart pounding. He could see the tension in Chan’s face, but also the raw truth beneath it. The firelight flickered in his eyes, and Felix thought he’d never seen anyone look so terrifying—and so beautiful.

The room had gone silent, demons and angels alike holding their breath.

Finally Minho inclined his head. “You have my word. If they ask, I’ll spit venom, I’ll act my part. But you know, your highness, my loyalty’s yours. To you—and to the truth I’ve seen tonight.”

Changbin pressed a hand to his chest, his voice rough. “I’d rather rip my tongue out than let this slip. No whispers. No leverage. Never.”

Seungmin’s voice came softer, measured but sure. “It won’t come from me. Not now, not ever.”

Hyunjin leaned forward, his long hair brushing his shoulder, his face serious. “Then we should all promise. Not just the demons. All of us. Because whatever happens now… we’re in this together.”

But I.N. shook his head, sharper, more grounded. “Not the same.” His dark eyes flicked to Felix and Chan. “Yes, we’re all breaking rules. Angels falling for demons, demons falling for angels. But you two—” he gestured toward them with a hand “—you’re the ones truly damned. Princes. Heirs. If it’s forbidden for us, for you it’s unthinkable. If we’d be killed… you’d be obliterated.”

Chan’s grip tightened on Felix, pulling him closer. “Then let them try.” His voice dropped to a growl. “To harm him, they’ll have to step over my body first. And I swear on the throne itself, I won’t make it easy.”

Felix’s eyes glistened, the devotion in his chest almost too much to bear. His voice was barely audible. “You’re my hero.” He leaned up, kissing Chan’s cheek softly, lingering there, breathing him in.

Changbin exhaled loudly, breaking the spell. “Alright, enough doom. You’re alive. You’re in love. Let’s not waste tonight with fear.” He clapped his hands once. “We celebrate.”

Jisung blinked at him. “Celebrate how?”

Bin’s grin turned wicked. “With soju, obviously. Buckets of it. I’ll raid the kitchen.”

Felix tilted his head, brows raised. “Soju… that’s alcohol, right?”

Chan chuckled, pressing a kiss to Felix’s temple. “Mm, yes. Very much alcohol.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Angels don’t drink alcohol.”

Minho leaned forward, eyes glinting. “Then you’ve wasted your centuries. You’ve no idea what you’re missing.”

Hyunjin frowned faintly. “It’s said alcohol makes you lose your head.”

“That’s the point,” Seungmin said smoothly. His smirk deepened. “And I want to see it. Just once—angels drunk out of their halos. I bet it’s unforgettable.”

I.N. rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

Seungmin leaned closer, voice a low purr. “And yet you’re staring right at me.”

A flush crept up I.N.’s neck. “Shut up.”

Chan bent his mouth to Felix’s ear, murmuring, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you if you get tipsy.” His lips brushed the shell of Felix’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. Then Chan added, voice husky, “Though I won’t promise to keep my hands to myself if you stumble too close.”

Felix’s cheeks turned crimson, his fingers tightening in Chan’s. He ducked his head with a shy smile, but his eyes sparkled with something mischievous. “Maybe… I don’t want you to.”

That single murmur seemed to ignite the room.

“That loyalty’s contagious,” Changbin barked with a laugh, slinging an arm over Hyunjin’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll keep you safe too. If you get tipsy, I’ll make sure no one takes advantage of you—” he leaned closer, voice dropping “—except me.”

Hyunjin’s jaw nearly dropped. “You’re unbearable.”

“Unbearably good,” Bin winked, and Hyunjin threw a cushion at his head, his lips twitching despite himself.

Minho’s gaze slid lazily to Jisung, who stiffened under it. “You’ll sit on my lap when you drink. Safer there. No chance of wandering.”

“I don’t wander!” Jisung protested.

Minho’s smirk sharpened. “You wander straight into my arms every chance you get. Might as well stay put this time.”

Jisung flushed crimson, fidgeting. “…You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” Minho replied, stretching like a cat.

Seungmin tilted his head toward I.N., lips curling. “And you—if you drink, you’ll get bold. Bolder than you already are. Which is dangerous, considering the things you say sober.”

I.N. arched a brow, a rare spark of mischief lighting his eyes. “Maybe I’ll say them louder. Maybe I’ll tell you exactly what I think of your mouth.”

The room froze for a heartbeat—then Seungmin actually laughed, low and dark. “Careful. You say that drunk, and I might have to prove a point.”

I.N. flushed, but his lips quirked in the faintest smile. “Maybe I want you to.”

The demons grinned like wolves, the angels flustered but glowing under the firelight, their innocence sparking against the teasing like flint against steel.

Changbin clapped once, dragging the moment forward. “Minho, with me. Let’s go fetch the bottles before I decide to drain the wine stores too.”

Minho rose, his hand brushing Jisung’s shoulder briefly as he passed. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Jisung’s ears turned pink. “I won’t,” he muttered—far too fast.

___________________________________

Laughter echoed against the tall walls, soft firelight gilding flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. The air was thick with warmth—not just from the soju, but from the dangerous closeness now threading through every touch, every stolen glance.

Hyunjin was sprawled sideways across the couch, one leg draped carelessly over Changbin’s knee, though he pretended not to notice how firm Bin’s hand stayed there. Jisung had long given up keeping distance from Minho and was now practically glued to his side, tipsy giggles escaping whenever Minho whispered something that made his ears turn red. I.N. sat cross-legged on the carpet, hugging a cushion to his chest, while Seungmin lounged opposite him, eyes never straying far from the youngest angel.

And at the center, Chan sat with Felix still curled against him, their glasses forgotten on the low table. Felix’s freckles seemed brighter tonight, his smile looser, his giggles coming too easily—and Chan watched every single one like it was treasure.

The bottles had gone half-empty before the angels even realized they’d been laughing more than drinking. Their halos of dignity were slipping fast; cheeks pink, eyes glassy, giggles spilling too easily. The demons, of course, saw the cracks and pounced.

“Truth or dare,” Changbin announced, already grinning.

“No way,” Hyunjin groaned, tipping his glass. “That’s… childish.”

“And dangerous,” I.N. muttered, hugging a pillow to his chest.

“Exactly,” Bin said. “Which makes it perfect.”

Felix shook his head, curls bouncing. “It’ll get us in trouble.”

“Already in trouble,” Minho yawned. “Might as well enjoy it.”

The demons leaned in, smirks wicked. The angels glanced at one another, tipsy nerves buzzing. Finally Changbin pressed harder: “Come on. Just truths first. You’re drunk enough it’ll be hilarious.”

Felix hiccupped a laugh. Hyunjin rolled his eyes. Jisung covered his mouth, giggling despite himself. And I.N., red and swaying slightly, muttered, “Fine. But only one round.”

Cheers erupted.

Chan leaned forward, eyes sharp. “Minho. What’s your biggest turn-on?”

Minho’s lips curled. His gaze slid sideways to Jisung, who froze like prey. “Easy,” Minho said lazily. “Watching someone innocent try to act bold. When they blush, bite their lip, but still let me ruin them.” His smirk sharpened. “Especially when it’s Jisung.”

The youngest squeaked, nearly spilling his drink. Laughter and whistles broke out. Chan clapped Minho’s shoulder.

“You’re sick,” Jisung muttered, hiding behind his hands.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea,” Minho purred, making him squirm harder.

Jisung bit his lip.

Minho tipped his glass. “Your turn, Sung. Have you ever had a dirty dream about me? And what was it about?”

Jisung’s jaw dropped. “W-what? No! That’s—” He glanced around the circle, but everyone was staring, waiting. Felix giggled, leaning into Chan’s shoulder. Jisung groaned, face crimson. “...Yes. Once.”

“Details,” Minho pressed.

Jisung gulped his drink like it might save him. “I dreamed you… had me pinned against the changing room mirror. And— and you made me… look at myself the whole time.” His voice cracked into a squeak.

The room exploded. Catcalls, whistles, applause. Minho laughed low, dangerous, leaning close. “Good dream. I’ll make it reality one day.”

Jisung buried his face in Minho’s chest, whining incoherently, which only made the demons laugh harder.

Flustered but emboldened by alcohol, Jisung shot back. “Fine. Changbin—where’s the riskiest place you’ve ever done it?”

Bin barked a laugh, eyes glinting. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his gaze on Hyunjin. “The choir balcony. With the angel of beauty himself bent over the railing.”

Hyunjin choked on his drink. “You absolute pervert! Don’t tell them our secrets!”

“Guilty,” Bin grinned, unrepentant. The demons roared. “Alright, sexy angel,” Bin said looking at Hyunjin, eyes bright. “Have you ever faked it with me?”

The room went quiet. Hyunjin’s jaw dropped. “With you? The walking definition of a sex demon?” He scoffed, smirking despite his blush. “Never. You’d notice. Besides… there’s nothing to fake.”

Bin leaned back, grinning like a king. “Knew it.”

Whistles filled the room again, Hyunjin shoving at him half-heartedly, smiling even as his cheeks burned.

Hyunjin turned suddenly. “I.N. Tell us the truth. Are you ever going to let Seungmin taste that sweetness you keep guarding?”

The youngest angel nearly fell backward. “Hyunjin!”

“What do they mean?” Seungmin asked, brows raised, pretending innocence.

The demons burst into laughter. I.N. covered his face, scarlet. Finally, muffled but clear, he confessed, “Soon. I’ll give it to him soon.” He bit his lip hard, eyes darting to Seungmin.

The circle erupted in whistles and applause. I.N. groaned, sinking into his cushion, red as wine.

Desperate to shift the attention, I.N. snapped, “Fine. Seungmin—what’s your secret fantasy you’ve never told anyone?”

Seungmin’s smirk curved slowly. He swirled his glass. “To tie someone up so they can’t move, blindfold them, and hear them beg without knowing what I’ll do next.” His eyes cut back to I.N. “And then undo them piece by piece.”

The angels gasped. I.N. made a strangled noise and practically hid under his pillow.

Seungmin’s gaze slid over to Felix, wicked. “Your turn, sunshine. What’s your favorite position with Chan, and why?”

Felix’s freckled cheeks went scarlet. “W-what kind of question is—” He glanced at Chan, whose grin was already curling. Felix bit his lip, then whispered, “On top. Because… he looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world. And I… like having control. At least a little…. And because I love to ride him…”

Chan’s chest swelled, eyes burning into him. He kissed Felix’s temple, murmuring something low enough only Felix heard. The circle erupted again.

Finally, Felix turned, eyes glazed from drink, smile dangerously shy. “Your turn, Channie. What’s the wildest thing you want to do to me in bed?”

The demons leaned forward, hungry.

Chan’s gaze locked on Felix, voice rough. “Ruin you. Every hole, at once. I’ll make it possible one day—with toys, with everything. You won’t be able to move for days.”

The room howled. Felix buried his burning face in Chan’s chest, laughing breathless, while Chan kissed the top of his head like he’d just confessed a vow. The angels groaned, giggled, shoved playfully—but none could deny their tipsy blushes or the heat curling in the air.

The truths had been spoken. The alcohol had loosened every tongue. And the room pulsed with something dangerous, something intoxicating.

The demons leaned back, grinning. “Alright,” Changbin said darkly. “Now the real fun starts. Dares.”

The circle was already fever-hot, flushed cheeks and reckless laughter bubbling out of everyone. The soju bottles were nearly empty, but the heat in the room had nothing to do with alcohol anymore.

Changbin clapped his hands. “First dare—our little I.N. You’ve got to let Seungmin kiss you. Thirty seconds. No less.”

I.N. nearly dropped his drink. “W-what?! Thirty seconds is—”

“Tick tock,” Bin sang, and the demons started a countdown.

Red as fire, I.N. leaned toward Seungmin, drunk enough to stumble but still stubborn. “Fine,” he muttered.

Seungmin didn’t hesitate. He caught I.N.’s mouth and kissed him wet, deep, shameless. Tongue sliding, lips devouring until the youngest was whimpering against him, gripping his shirt for balance. When Seungmin finally pulled back, I.N. gasped for breath, crimson and trembling.

The room erupted with whistles. “He’s ruined,” Hyunjin cackled.

Now it was Seungmin’s turn. “Touch your lips and fake an orgasm,” Felix challenged, half-hiding his grin, “but you have to say someone’s name.”

“Easy,” Seungmin purred. He licked his lips, tilted his head back, and started moaning softly. Then louder. Then with shameless rhythm, stroking his own mouth as he breathed out, “J-Jeongin—ahh… Jeongin…”

I.N. squealed and buried his face in a cushion while the circle howled with laughter.

“Bin, your turn,” Hyunjin declared, eyes bright, “five spanks on your ass.”

Bin grinned. “Only if you do it.”

Hyunjin froze, then smirked back. “Gladly.”

Changbin dropped to all fours in the center of the circle. The demons whistled. Hyunjin tugged Bin’s waistband just low enough to show skin and raised his hand. The first crack echoed. Bin groaned, loud and deliberate.

By the fifth, his ass was red, his grin feral. He looked over his shoulder at Hyunjin. “Hit me like that in bed sometime, and I’ll make you forget your own name.”

Hyunjin, cheeks flushed, shot back instantly. “Careful, Bin. You won’t survive me letting loose.”

The circle went wild.

“Your turn, pretty boy,” Minho drawled looking a Hyunjin. “Let someone here give you a hickey.”

Hyunjin, drunk and giggly, looked around. Then: “Felix.”

The angels gasped. Felix started to rise, delighted, when Changbin’s voice cut sharp. “No chance. The only one marking Hyunjin is me.”

Hyunjin’s smile softened at that. He turned his neck toward Changbin. “Relax, I was teasing. It’s yours.”

Changbin leaned in, slow and possessive, licking, then biting deep into Hyunjin’s skin until a vivid mark bloomed. Hyunjin shuddered, a helpless sound escaping his throat.

“Mine,” Bin growled, pulling back. Hyunjin’s smile was dazed.

Chan looked at Minho. “On your knees,” Chan ordered. “Beg Jisung for more.”

Minho laughed low and dropped instantly, kneeling in front of Jisung, eyes smoldering. “Please,” he whispered. “Let me taste you again. Let me inside. Let me ruin you until you scream.”

Jisung’s throat bobbed, trembling. “I—I can’t tell you no… if you beg like that… you can have everything. Even the world.”

The demons erupted. Minho stood, smirk dangerous, and kissed Jisung deep, stealing the angel’s breath.

The bottle pointed at Jisung next. “Guide Minho’s hand where you want him,” Hyunjin slurred.

Everyone gasped. Jisung, red and reckless, grabbed Minho’s hand and shoved it past his waistband.

Chaos exploded. Felix shrieked, covering his eyes. Chan laughed breathless. The other angels hid behind pillows.

“STOP!!! We don’t want to see this!!!!” Everybody shouted.

“Speak for yourselves!” Changbin crowed. “I want front row seats!”

Minho’s smirk widened as Jisung whimpered against him, the room dissolving into wild laughter and scandalized gasps.

“Prince of Underworld,” Hyunjin purred. “Crawl to Felix. Kiss his inner thighs. One full minute.”

Chan’s gaze sharpened. Felix’s lips parted, cheeks flushed. Slowly, Chan dropped to all fours, stalking his angel like prey. He slid his hands up Felix’s thighs, pushing the tunic higher, and spread him open.

Felix trembled, gasping, as Chan’s mouth pressed to his inner skin—wet, slow kisses traveling higher, higher, until he was nearly at the sweetest spot.

Felix moaned, head tilting back, and the sound had Chan’s teeth grit with restraint. He could smell Felix’s sweetness at the end of his thighs: strawberries, sugar, caramel—and it nearly broke him. But with a final kiss, he pulled back, leaving Felix panting and glowing.

The circle was stunned silent, then burst into wild noise.

Finally, all eyes turned to Felix. “Your turn, angel,” Changbin taunted. “Straddle Chan, grind against him, and lick his lips—but no kissing.”

Felix froze. Chan opened his arms with a dark grin. “Come here, Lix.”

Tipsy courage surged. Felix climbed onto his lap, thighs tightening around Chan’s hips. He moved—slow, deliberate—grinding down until Chan’s breath caught. Felix leaned in, tongue flicking against Chan’s lips, teasing, refusing to kiss.

Chan growled low in his throat, gripping Felix’s waist like iron. Their foreheads touched, both trembling, both undone, the whole room screaming and laughing and scandalized around them.

The dares had broken every boundary. And the night wasn’t anywhere near finished.

______________________________

After several rounds of daring games, a few more bottles downed, the angels were thoroughly tipsy. Their laughter filled the room, slurred and warm, and every gesture carried a soft, reckless charm. Chan, ever the most responsible of the group, finally raised his hand, letting the merriment settle for just a moment.

“All right,” he said firmly, voice layered with authority and concern, “my friends, it’s time to take the angels back to their rooms. Lay them down, let them rest… and do not—under any circumstances—try anything.” His gaze sharpened, warning clearly etched in his tone.

Before anyone could answer, Hyunjin, swaying slightly, interrupted, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Actually… we do want the demons to do something,” he said, voice teasing, almost daring.

Changbin’s eyes sparkled as he grinned, leaning back lazily. “Well, then. If the angels have spoken, their wishes must be fulfilled,” he declared, voice dripping with mischievous delight.

Minho glanced at him and smirked. “By that logic… Chan, you can’t touch the prince of Heaven  either. He’s drunk, and rules are rules.”

Felix, wobbling on his feet, stumbled into Chan’s chest with a soft thud, leaning heavily on him. He looked up at both Chan and Minho, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with tipsy mischief. “I’m not drunk,” he protested weakly. “But you… you tell him, Chan. Tell your friend that you belong to me, and that I need you… I need you to make love to me.”

Chan chuckled, warm and full of love, his hands resting possessively on Felix’s hips. “Minho,” he said with a wicked smile, “I think you just heard my butterfly loud and clear.”

Minho laughed, shaking his head, and gently lifted Jisung into his arms. “All right, little angel, time to get you to bed,” he said, joining the others as they filed out of the room, laughter trailing behind them.

Chan finally closed the door, locking it with a soft click. He turned to Felix, who leaned against him, half-tipsy, hair slightly mussed and eyes shining with anticipation.

“You want to keep playing truth or dare?” Felix slurred with a teasing lilt. “Just… just the two of us?”

Chan stepped closer, hands resting on Felix’s waist, holding him gently yet firmly. “I love you, my little freckled firefly… and I really really really would love to keep playing with you… ” he murmured, eyes tracing every detail of his angel’s flushed face. “But you’re quite drunk. And no matter how much I want to…” He pressed a thumb to Felix’s lips and grinned, “…I won’t take advantage of you in this state. Not now.”

Felix tilted his head up at him, lips curving into a mischievous smile. “I give you permission,” he said softly, voice honeyed, “to ruin me whenever you want.”

Chan shook his head, affectionate and frustrated, pressing a kiss to Felix’s temple. “If I’m going to make love to you,” he said, voice low and tender, “I want every sense, every part of you, completely awake. Right now, you’re a little bit drunk—you’re not at one hundred percent. So… for tonight, we sleep. Wrapped in each other, kissed, loved, and tomorrow…” He brushed a strand of damp hair from Felix’s forehead, gazing deeply into his eyes. “Tomorrow, when you’re clear-headed, I promise… I’ll make love to you in the most delicious, delicate way possible.”

Felix’s lips parted in a soft gasp. “You really promise?”

“I do,” Chan whispered, leaning in to press a long, feather-light kiss to his lips. Their mouths met in a tender, lingering kiss, full of heat and promise, soft yet fervent, conveying everything that words could not. Their breaths mingled, slow and deliberate, the kiss deepening just enough to make Felix’s heart race and melt at the same time.

Once the kiss ended, Felix leaned heavily against Chan, trusting him completely. Chan guided him carefully to the bathroom, helping him undress, steadying him with gentle, possessive touches. Every step carried the quiet intimacy of a bond strengthened by trust and love. Once clean and fresh, Chan lifted Felix effortlessly, carrying him like a delicate treasure to the bed.

Felix’s eyes were already drooping with exhaustion, body melting into Chan’s as soon as they reached the mattress. He curled instinctively against Chan’s chest, legs tangling with his, small hands clutching the demon prince as if he were the only thing keeping him upright.

Chan laid down beside him, one arm slipping beneath Felix’s shoulders, the other draped protectively over his waist. His chest rose and fell against Felix’s back, the warmth between them electric. He pressed a gentle kiss to Felix’s lips, soft and lingering, tasting the sweetness of his angel, memorizing every curve, every breath.

Felix, heavy-lidded and tipsy, nuzzled closer, pressing his lips to Chan’s again, letting his body mold against the demon’s. He whispered softly, “I need you… always,” and Chan’s heart swelled, a surge of adoration so strong it felt as though it might shatter him.

“I know, my love,” Chan murmured, voice low and rough with emotion. “And you’ll always have me. Every second, every heartbeat… you’re mine.”

Felix tangled his fingers in Chan’s hair, tugging lightly, smiling sleepily against his lips. “I need… to feel you,” he murmured, voice thick with desire and trust. “Close… always.”

Chan brushed a strand of hair from Felix’s face and pressed another soft kiss to his forehead. “You have me,” he whispered, “and I’ll never let go. Sleep now, my freckled firefly. Tomorrow, we’ll continue… with every ounce of our hearts and bodies. I promise.”

Felix sighed, curling completely against him, arms wrapped tightly around Chan’s chest, legs intertwined. Chan’s eyes roamed over his angel’s serene, flushed face, marveling at how utterly perfect he seemed in the firelight, the soft glow of the rain outside casting shadows across his skin.

He pressed a final kiss to Felix’s lips, gentle and reverent, then held him close, breathing him in, memorizing the warmth, the softness, the life pulsing against him.

As Felix drifted into sleep, curled against his chest, Chan whispered softly to himself, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the angel’s back, “Every day with you… I fall more in love. Every second, I choose you.”

Outside, the rain pattered steadily against the window, melting the snow and filling the castle with the scent of wet earth. Inside, the fire crackled warmly, and two souls lay entwined, perfectly at peace, hearts beating in unison, a quiet eternity stretching before them. Chan watched Felix sleep, mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest, the soft curls of his hair, the way he clung to him with utter trust.

Every moment, every touch, every whispered promise cemented the unspoken truth: they had found their home in each other. And in the quiet intimacy of that rain-drenched night, nothing else mattered. Chan closed his eyes, one arm draped protectively over Felix, the other hand holding his angel’s, and finally allowed himself to drift into sleep, heart full, completely and irrevocably in love.

Chapter Text

Felix woke with his face buried against the broad, warm chest of his demon. The steady thrum of Chan’s heartbeat pulsed beneath his cheek, grounding him. He inhaled deeply, eyes still closed, taking in the addictive scent that clung to Chan’s skin—rich, masculine, edged with mint and lemon, and underneath it, something softer… sweeter… caramel? Felix groaned quietly, the dizziness in his head making it difficult to even open his eyes.

A soft chuckle vibrated against his ear. Chan’s laugh—low, teasing, warm. “Did you just growl at me?” he asked playfully.

Felix forced his eyes open, blinking at the sight before him. Any thought of snapping back vanished instantly. He was met with the most devastatingly beautiful sight in existence—the face of the man he loved. Brown eyes, soft and endless, met his own blue ones, and that smile… that breathtaking smile carved by dimples. His gaze dropped helplessly to those lips—full, plush, sinful. God, those lips. He lost himself in them.

Chan leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss against his mouth, gentle and slow, then whispered, “How are you feeling, my firefly?”

“I’m sober,” Felix murmured, his voice still hoarse, “but… my head hurts.”

Chan smirked knowingly. “That’s called a hangover.”

“Hang…over?” Felix repeated, confused.

“It’s what happens when you drink too much,” Chan explained patiently, brushing his fingers through Felix’s messy blond hair.

Felix groaned again and buried his face back into Chan’s chest. “I’m never drinking again. Ever.”

Chan laughed softly. “That’s a shame. You were so much fun drunk. You lost your shyness… threw yourself at me without caring what the others thought.”

Felix’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “I… I did what?”

Chan laughed harder this time, pulling him tighter against his chest. “You did, angel.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed pink as fragments of memory flickered—laughter, dares, his own bold words. “I remember truth or dare with the guys… but it’s blurry. Mixed images.”

Chan cupped his cheek, his thumb brushing softly along Felix’s jaw. “When the guys left, you asked me to keep playing, just us two. And believe me, I would have loved to… but you were drunk. I would never take advantage of you like that.”

Felix blinked, stunned. The thought hit him like a rush of lightning. The prince of the underworld. The future king of hell. And yet… instead of giving in to his own hunger, he had put Felix first.

“Who are you and what have you done with my beast of hell?” Felix whispered in awe, staring at him.

Chan rolled his eyes with a teasing smirk. “I’m still your demon. The one who still wants to bend you over and make you scream my name until the walls shake, featherboy.”

Felix’s cheeks burned, but his chest swelled at the same time. “But you wanted and you did not—“

Chan’s teasing faded into something deeper as he pressed his forehead against Felix’s and interrupted him. “The truth is, nothing—nothing—will ever be more important than you. You always come first, Lixie. I’ll protect you, always.”

Felix’s heart stuttered. His throat tightened, eyes threatening tears. “I swear… If you ever say your heart is damaged again,” he whispered fiercely, “I’ll be angry…. Do you hear me, Prince of the Underworld? You’re the purest, kindest being I’ve ever known. I don’t understand how you can’t see that. My heart is in love with your heart. You cared for me instead of… instead of using me. Who does that?…  ”

Chan silenced him with a kiss, firm and full of devotion. Against his lips he murmured, “I’d rather make love to you with all of you—mind, body, soul. I want every single part of you awake for me, Felix.”

Felix trembled, overwhelmed by his words. His blue eyes shimmered as he whispered, “Then I promise you something. One day, we will play truth or dare. Just the two of us. No alcohol…. to make up for not giving you what you deserved yesterday....” His voice dropped, husky and needy. “But right now… all I want is to feel you inside me. I need you. Now.”

Chan bit his bottom lip, eyes darkening, his restraint slipping. A wicked grin curved his mouth. “Your wish is my command… your majesty.” His hand slid over Felix’s waist, palm hot against bare skin.

How fortunate that they had gone to bed wearing only the most minimal layers—just their underwear separating skin from skin, fire from fire.

The world was silent, almost reverent, as if it knew something sacred was about to happen. The faint glow of candles left behind from the night painted the walls in gold, but Chan saw none of it. His eyes, warm and dark, were fixed on the angel in his arms—his Felix, trembling slightly but holding onto him as though he might never let go.

Felix straddled Chan’s hips, his knees pressing into the sheets, his small hands cupping Chan’s face with a kind of desperate tenderness. His thumbs brushed over those lips and sharp cheekbones, tracing the dimples that appeared when Chan gave him that small, adoring smile. Felix’s heart skipped. He was so painfully beautiful.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Felix whispered, breathless already, as though Chan’s gaze itself burned through him.

“Like what?” Chan murmured, tilting his head so Felix’s hands slid lower, down his jaw.

“Like… like I’m everything.” Felix’s throat caught around the words. His eyes, those ocean-blue pools, wavered, heavy with tears he didn’t understand.

Chan’s smile softened, his dimples deepening. He leaned up just enough to press the gentlest kiss against Felix’s lips. “You are everything.”

Felix made a sound—a broken whimper, part protest, part surrender—and pressed their mouths together again, harder this time, tasting, breathing, needing more. Chan’s hands slid from Felix’s hips up to his back, palms flat against warm skin, drawing goosebumps in their wake. Felix shivered at every touch, like Chan was writing fire into his skin.

Their lips clung and parted, again and again. Felix broke away only to bury his face in the crook of Chan’s neck, inhaling his scent. His voice was muffled against Chan’s skin when he whispered, “I’m going to drown in you.”

Chan’s laugh was low, fond, vibrating against Felix’s cheek. “Then let me hold you while you do.”

Felix shuddered, pulling back just far enough to meet Chan’s eyes again. The world tilted when he saw the tenderness there—tenderness that shouldn’t belong to a demon, a future king of the underworld. Tenderness that belonged only to him.

“Why do you love me so much?” Felix asked suddenly, voice cracking, as though the weight of it all was too much. “I don’t—Chan, I don’t deserve—”

“Stop.” Chan’s voice was firm but gentle, his thumb brushing Felix’s jaw as he held him steady. “Don’t ever say you don’t deserve my love. You’re my angel. You saved me, even when you didn’t know it.” His hand slid up to tangle in Felix’s soft golden hair. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Felix’s chest hurt. His heart felt too big, like it was going to burst right out of him. He kissed Chan again, desperate, his lips trembling with emotion. Chan caught every shiver, every gasp, answering with patience and devotion.

They moved slowly, learning each other with touch alone. Felix’s fingers traced over Chan’s collarbones, down the planes of his chest, marveling at the warmth of his skin, at the way Chan shivered under such light touches. “I feel… alive,” Felix murmured in awe, his lips brushing the spot just above Chan’s heart. “You make me feel alive.”

Chan’s hands roamed Felix’s sides, fingers memorizing the softness of his waist, the arch of his back. “You are alive, my butterfly. You’re light. And I’m the lucky one who gets to hold you.”

Felix trembled, his whole body covered in goosebumps. He leaned down, kissing over Chan’s chest, whispering his name against his skin between kisses. “Chan… Chan… Chan…” Each repetition was like a prayer, holy and broken and full of devotion.

Chan’s breath caught, his hands gripping Felix tighter. “Say it again,” he pleaded, voice low, almost undone.

“Chan,” Felix whispered into his throat this time, his lips brushing the racing pulse there. “My Channie.”

Felix kissed every inch of the demon's torso and abdomen. He slipped his hand through the elastic of his underwear and pulled it down as he stared at Chan's hard cock. His mouth watered. Felix took the cock in his hands and guided it to his mouth. His tongue ran along the length from base to tip, and Chan moaned. Felix inserted the cock into his mouth and played with it, licking, sucking, and devouring it.

When Chan noticed he was about to cum, he placed his hand on his angel's cheek to signal him to stop. Felix stopped and looked at him.

"My love... I need to cum... but inside you," Chan begged. "Get on top of me and ride me.”

No sooner said than done, Felix did what the devil asked. He removed his own underwear and was about to position himself on top of Chan's cock when, without warning, Chan inserted two fingers inside Felix's vagina. Felix moaned as he unexpectedly felt his man's fingers slide in and out.

Chan thrust his fingers in and out, taking slick with him. Then he brought them to his mouth and sucked them under Felix's watchful eye. "My God... your taste drives me crazy… Strawberries…”

Felix blushed and finally lowered himself, sitting fully on top of Chan and burying his cock inside his pussy.

"I swear, if I wasn't about to cum... I'd eat that pretty pussy out and clean every last drop of slick..." Chan's cock twitched as he heard Felix moan. "...but if I ate you now... I wouldn't last even one lick... I'd cum instantly.”

Felix laughed. "So the devil can't resist me?"

"I can't resist you, my angel... You're my downfall."

The demon groaned softly, pulling him closer, rolling his hips just slightly in response. Felix gasped, his own body shivering as though every nerve was alight. Their rhythm grew, unhurried yet full of need, moving together like a tide, rising and falling, building something inevitable.

“Look at me,” Chan whispered, his hands cradling Felix’s face, forcing him to meet those dark, steady eyes. “I want to see you.”

Felix’s tears spilled then, hot down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and kisses. “I love you,” he sobbed softly, though it was a cry of joy, of overwhelming love. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

Chan kissed the tears away, kissed his lips, kissed his jaw. “I love you more than forever,” he murmured against Felix’s skin. “You’re mine. My angel. My heart.”

Their bodies moved in perfect synchronicity, slow and aching, each motion a confession. Felix’s back arched as Chan’s hands guided him, every touch grounding, protective, reverent. Felix could barely breathe, every gasp a moan of his lover’s name.

“You’re beautiful,” Chan whispered against his ear, his voice breaking. “Gods, you’re beautiful, my angel.”

Felix shook his head, burying his face in Chan’s neck again. “No. It’s you. Always you.”

Their words tumbled over each other, whispered declarations and sighs of devotion, tangled with gasps and quiet cries. Time lost meaning. All that mattered was the way they fit together, the way their souls seemed to fuse, until there was no telling where angel ended and demon began.

The crescendo came not as fire but as light. It swept them up at the same moment, hearts pounding in unison, and when it broke, they clung to each other, trembling, breathless, undone.

Felix collapsed against Chan’s chest, his golden hair damp against warm skin. Chan wrapped his arms tight around him, one hand stroking the back of his neck, the other pressing into the small of his back as though he could hold him there forever.

For a long while, they just breathed. Felix’s face was hidden against Chan’s throat, his lips still brushing soft kisses there even in exhaustion. His voice was hoarse when he whispered, “Don’t let go.”

“Never,” Chan answered instantly, voice rough with emotion. He kissed the crown of Felix’s head, tasting salt, sweat, and the sweetness that was uniquely his angel. “You’re mine. Always.”

Felix pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again, his lashes wet, his cheeks pink and glowing. “My demon…,” he whispered fiercely, though his voice trembled. “You were made for me, Chan. Don’t you dare forget that.”

Chan’s throat tightened. He pulled Felix back down and kissed him, deep and trembling, pouring all his gratitude, all his love into it. Against Felix’s lips, he murmured, “Then promise me you’ll never forget this—that I’ll always put you first. That I’ll love you with every part of me. That you’re my everything.”

Felix smiled through fresh tears, his forehead pressed to Chan’s. “I promise.”

And when they finally lay back, their legs tangled, their breaths softening into the rhythm of rest, Felix curled into Chan’s chest like he was made to fit there. His fingers clutched lightly at Chan’s skin, as though even in sleep he couldn’t risk letting go.

Chan gazed down at him, his angel, already drifting into dreams, lashes fluttering, lips curved in a faint smile. He pressed a final kiss to Felix’s forehead, whispering words meant only for him:

“My firefly. My angel. My forever.”

And as Felix sighed contentedly against his heart, Chan closed his eyes, knowing he had just lived the most beautiful moment of his existence.

__________________________________

Two hours later, the tower room was soaked in soft morning light when Felix stirred again, his body still tangled over Chan’s like ivy refusing to let go of stone. His nose was buried against Chan’s bare chest, breathing in that intoxicating scent.  Addictive. Safe. Home. He groaned faintly, his head spinning, his eyelids heavy.

Chan’s low chuckle rumbled beneath his ear. “Did my little featherboy just wake up?”

Felix’s eyes flew open, smiling at Chan.

Chan leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “How are you feeling now?”

Felix sighed dreamily. “Enamored.”

Chan laughed, shaking his head. “Cheesy boy. I was asking about the hangover.”

Felix scrunched his nose. “Better. Head’s still a little heavy, but I think I survived.”

“Perfect,” Chan said, brushing a kiss against the tip of his nose. “Then do me a favor. Stay in bed this morning, rest. I’ll go feed Lunarys.”

Felix pouted. “Give her a kiss from me.”

Chan arched a brow, smirking. “Careful, featherboy. If she gets too used to your kisses, I might start getting jealous.” His tone dropped lower, teasing. “Or worse, I’ll expect you to kiss me even more to make up for it.”

Felix slapped his chest lightly, blushing. “You’re impossible.”

Chan leaned in and stole a lingering kiss, his hand sliding over Felix’s waist. “You know that…”

Felix melted against him, their mouths moving slowly, lazily, until Chan finally pulled back with a sigh. The sheets fell from his body, and Felix’s eyes widened. Chan stood completely naked, the morning light spilling over his sculpted frame. Felix froze for a moment, his gaze shamelessly tracing every line, every curve of muscle. His thoughts grew darker, shameless, and very far from angelic.

“God!!” Felix said.

Chan caught the look immediately. A wicked grin spread over his face. “Oh, oh… what’s this? Have I turned my little butterfly into a sex addict?”

Felix bit his lip, gaze unabashedly raking down his lover’s body. “Don’t blame me when the universe decided to make you the most beautiful man alive.”

Chan chuckled, his dimples deepening as he leaned down to kiss Felix once more, deliberately slow and deep. “Wrong again. The most beautiful one is still in this bed.”

Felix flushed, burying his face in the pillow. “Stop it. You’re going to kill me with sweetness.”

Chan tugged on his clothes quickly, fastening the last button of his shirt. He paused at the door and turned, eyes soft. “I’ll be back soon, babe.”

“I love you,” Felix whispered, still half-hidden against the sheets.

Chan’s smile warmed into something that made Felix’s chest ache. “I love you more.” And with that, he left.

________________________________

Felix hummed softly as he padded down the hallway, his bare feet silent against the cool stone. Chan had gone off to feed Lunarys, pressing a lingering kiss to Felix’s lips before leaving, and now Felix’s stomach was growling. A piece of bread, maybe fruit—that was all he needed.

He tugged Chan’s loose shirt tighter around himself, its oversized fabric falling to mid-thigh. The scent of Chan clung to it—mint, lemon, something sweet—and it made Felix smile despite the dull throb in his temples.

He was halfway to the kitchens when voices caught his ear. Low. Serious. The kind of tone that made his stomach twist instinctively. He slowed, realizing the sound spilled from the meeting hall just ahead. The door was cracked open, light spilling through.

Felix told himself to keep walking. To ignore it. But then he heard his own name.

“…Felix and Chan will face each other in the maze.”

The king’s voice. Steady. Final.

Felix froze. His breath hitched.

A noble cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, forgive me, but—face each other? As enemies?”

The king sighed, a sound that carried centuries. “The prophecy speaks of blood. It says one must fall, or the gates will never open. Without sacrifice, there can be no peace.”

Felix’s heart plummeted. His hands shook against the fabric of Chan’s shirt. Prophecy? What the fuck? One must fall?

Another noble spoke, doubtful. “Do you truly believe Felix could strike Chan down? Or Chan—kill Felix?”

The silence stretched too long before the king answered. “It does not matter what I believe. The prophecy dictates it. And if it is to be trusted, one of them will not return... in a while.”

Felix’s breath left him in a strangled gasp. He staggered back a step, his legs unsteady. Not return. Die. His chest tightened painfully. They wanted him to kill Chan? Or Chan to kill him?

“This is going to end really bad….” another noble whispered.

Felix couldn’t listen anymore. His vision blurred as panic clawed up his throat. Shaking his head, he turned and bolted, his footsteps echoing in the corridor. His heart hammered wildly as he ran, up the spiraling stairs, clutching at the loose fabric of Chan’s shirt as if it could anchor him. The words wouldn’t leave him—one of them will not return… one must fall. They clanged in his skull with every step until he burst into their chamber, slammed the door shut behind him, and leaned back against it, trembling all over. And what the hell are they talking about? a prophecy?

Inside the council room, the king’s voice carried on, heavy with burden.

“The prophecy says… one of them will die. But only for an instant,” he admitted. “They will awaken from a dream—confused, but alive. And after that… on the night of the Blood Moon… life will bring peace.”

The nobles exchanged baffled looks.

“Life? Peace? Your Majesty, what does that even mean?” one asked.

The king exhaled slowly, his face drawn. “It is difficult to interpret. These prophecies never speak plainly. I believe—” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “—I think that the true and final battle will reach its conclusion under a Blood Moon, and from that night, peace will be born.”

“But there hasn’t been a Blood Moon in thousand years,” another noble objected.

“Perhaps it is near,” the king said gravely. “Perhaps not. I do not pretend to know the timing, only the weight of destiny. The words speak of life, of sacrifice, of rebirth. It is not clear. But I believe in the prophecy.”

The chamber fell into uneasy silence.

___________________________________

The heavy oak door opened with a low creak, and sunlight spilled into the dim chamber before Chan stepped inside. His curls were a little damp with sweat, cheeks flushed from the hunt, his broad chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm. He carried joy with him, joy that filled the room before his voice even broke the quiet.

“Baby!” His tone was warm and bubbling, like laughter wrapped in sunlight. “You won’t believe what just happened. While Lunarys and I were out, we ran into the princes and their elf builders. They’ve been working faster than I thought, and guess what?” His grin widened, eyes sparkling. “Our little cabin—it’s almost finished. It’s waiting for us.”

The silence that followed was not what he expected. Felix sat with his back to him, still as a statue. He hadn’t moved since Chan entered, hadn’t turned, hadn’t said a word.

The happiness dimmed in Chan’s chest. His boots clicked softly against the stone floor as he approached. “Lixie?” he tried again, softer this time.

No response.

Chan’s chest tightened, a small weight settling in his gut. Slowly, he stepped closer, boots barely making a sound against the stone floor. “Angel?”

Still nothing.

When he reached the bed, he lowered himself beside Felix and laid a careful hand on his shoulder. Gently, he coaxed him to turn. The moment Felix’s face came into view, Chan froze. His angel’s eyes were rimmed red, lashes clumped with the evidence of tears. His lips were pressed tight together, but his trembling betrayed him.

“Felix…” Chan whispered, his voice breaking. “What happened?”

Felix shook his head too quickly. “Nothing. I’m fine. I was just thinking…”

But Chan had spent too long studying him, memorizing every flicker of his expression, to believe that. His brows drew together, his thumb brushing lightly over Felix’s damp cheek. “No, you’re not. You’ve been crying. Your eyes don’t lie to me.”

At those words, Felix’s chest caved in. He launched himself forward, burying his face in Chan’s chest, clutching his tunic with desperate fists. The warmth of Chan’s body, the solidity of him, undid Felix completely.

The memory of the king’s voice echoed cruelly in his head. One of them must die. One of them will not return. His vision had blurred then, and panic had driven him away before he could hear more. The prophecy… what prophecy? Who wrote it? Why had he never heard of it before? Why him—why them? Was it ancient? Was it cursed? How could a prophecy demand their blood?

How was there a prophecy that he had never heard of? The questions clawed at him like thorns, but he swallowed them down, forcing his lips into a faint smile.

Wait... maybe someone did know. I.N. acted suspiciously odd, as if he knew what would happen when Felix first healed Chan. Maybe I.N. had answers. He'd talk to him tomorrow. Felix looked at Chan faking a smile.

“I cried,” Felix choked out, “because I love you too much and I missed you while you were with Lunarys. Just thinking about being without you—it hurts. It hurts so much.”

Chan’s heart cracked open at the confession. He wrapped his arms around his angel, holding him so tight it was as if he could shield him from the entire world. He kissed Felix’s hair, inhaled the sweet, warm scent of him, and whispered, “Shhh. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Felix clung harder, as if trying to mold himself into Chan, to become one with him. The thought of the prophecy gnawed at him again, unbearable. One of us must die.

Chan’s arms wrapped around him instantly, holding him as if he would never let go. He pressed his lips to Felix’s hair, breathing in his scent of sunlight and sweetness. Chan’s heart ached with the weight of the confession—he knew there was more behind Felix’s tears, but if his angel needed comfort instead of words, he would give him that. Always.

“Shhh,” Chan murmured, stroking slow circles on his back. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Felix clung tighter, and after a long silence, he lifted his head, voice still trembling. “We should train today… for the trial. It’s only a few days away.”

Chan sighed and nodded, though confusion shadowed his eyes. “We can, yeah. But… we don’t even know what to prepare for. We don’t know what the trial will be.”

Felix’s heart lurched painfully at the words. I do, he thought, his throat tightening with the secret that threatened to suffocate him.

Swallowing hard, he forced the words out: “Channie… what if… what if one of us were to die in that trial?”

The question hung heavy in the air. For a heartbeat, Chan blinked at him—and then, suddenly, a laugh burst out of him, deep and warm, rolling through the room.

Felix’s eyes widened. “Why are you laughing?”

Chan cupped Felix’s face between his hands, thumbs brushing gently across his freckles. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his nose, soft and playful. “Because that is never going to happen, silly firefly. Whatever trial they throw at us, whatever danger comes—we’ll face it together. Like we already did. And I’ll protect you above everything else. Nothing, nothing, will happen to you.”

Felix’s throat closed, tears prickling his eyes again. He couldn’t tell him. Not now. So instead, he hid his face in the crook of Chan’s neck, his voice muffled but fierce. “I promise I’ll protect you too. No matter what.”

Something flickered in Chan’s eyes then—something fierce and vulnerable all at once. He bent forward, pressing his forehead to Felix’s, breathing him in. “Then we have nothing to fear,” he whispered. “Because if you’re protecting me, and I’m protecting you, then nothing can come between us. Nothing can break us. We’ll always be together.”

A sob tore up Felix’s throat, and he pressed his lips against Chan’s in a kiss that was all desperation and love, salt from his tears mixing with the warmth of Chan’s mouth.

Chan kissed him back instantly, pulling him closer, swallowing the tremors that shook Felix’s frame. When Felix pulled away, his lips were trembling, his breath shaky, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he rained frantic kisses across Chan’s face—his cheeks, his jaw, his eyelids, his temples.

“I love you,” Felix whispered against his skin. A kiss to his forehead. “I love you so much.” Another to the corner of his mouth. “You don’t even know how much.” His lips brushed Chan’s jaw. “If I could, I’d keep you here forever. Safe. Mine.”

Chan’s heart pounded at the onslaught of affection, surprised but deeply moved. He chuckled softly, but his eyes glistened as he tilted Felix’s chin up. “You’re so clingy today, my angel.”

Felix nodded fiercely, not ashamed. His arms tightened around Chan’s neck. “I am. And I don’t care. I need you, Chan. I need to feel you, to hold you, to kiss you. Please, let me.”

The vulnerability in his voice nearly broke Chan. He leaned down, kissing him deeply, slow and tender, letting Felix pour every ounce of fear and love into the connection. Felix whimpered against his mouth, clutching at him desperately, as though afraid he’d vanish if he let go. They kissed for what felt like hours, lips swollen and tender, breath mingling. Every time Chan tried to pull back, Felix pulled him in again, pressing kisses over his throat, his chest, his shoulders. His angel was insatiable, as if memorizing every inch of him, branding the taste and feel of him into memory.

Chan finally pulled back just enough to murmur, “Lixie… what’s gotten into you today?”

Felix’s chest heaved, tears gathering again. He smiled weakly, pressing one last kiss to Chan’s lips. “I just love you. More than anything. And I want you to know it. I want you to feel it.”

Chan’s eyes softened, and he held him tighter, as if promising silently that nothing could take him away.

“I love you too, my little butterfly.”

Felix smiled, small and secret, and pressed another kiss to his temple.

Because if that prophecy is true… I don’t know how many days we have left.

But he didn’t say that aloud. Instead, he curled tighter into Chan’s arms, hiding his thoughts, burying his face in the warmth of the man he loved more than life itself.

Chapter Text

Morning light filtered through the high windows of the castle corridors, painting gold across the stone walls. Felix’s steps echoed as he ran, breath quick, heart hammering in his chest. He hadn’t slept much—the king’s words still looped in his head like a curse, refusing to let him rest. A prophecy. Death. A maze where only one survives. He couldn’t tell Chan, not yet. He needed answers.

And he knew exactly where to go.

He burst into I.N.’s chambers without knocking.

The room was heavy with warmth, curtains drawn, and the soft sound of breathing filled the air. Felix froze for a moment. There, tangled in the sheets, was I.N.—fast asleep, tucked against Seungmin’s chest. The demon had one arm thrown lazily around the younger angel, holding him close.

Felix blinked. For a moment, despite his panic, he found himself smiling. They looked… adorable. Fragile. Like they belonged together. But his need for answers was stronger than his amusement. He padded closer to the bed and touched I.N.’s shoulder gently.

“Hey,” Felix whispered. “Wake up, I.N., I need you.”

I.N. stirred, eyelids fluttering. But before he could react, both he and Seungmin snapped awake at once, their eyes flying open. Seungmin’s crimson gaze glinted with mischief immediately.

“Well, well,” the demon drawled in his low, sinful tone, lips curling into a grin. “What a sweet awakening. Two beautiful angels by my side—one in my arms and one standing at the bed. If Felix wants to join us, he only has to say the word. This demon never refuses a threesome with heavenly company.”

Felix’s mouth fell open. “Seungmin!”

I.N. groaned and shoved his elbow hard into the demon’s ribs. “Shut up. Say that again and I swear I’ll never give you my virginity.”

The threat hit like a dagger. Seungmin gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” I.N. shot back, glaring.

Felix couldn’t help it—he burst out laughing. The sight of Seungmin, one of the most feared demons, actually looking scared was priceless.

But Seungmin, never one to admit defeat, immediately softened his gaze and turned on the charm. He cupped I.N.’s cheek, pressing kisses all over his face in exaggerated desperation. “No, no, please, baby. Forgive me. Don’t say such cruel words. You’d break my demon heart.” He even pouted like a child.

I.N. wrinkled his nose, shoving at him half-heartedly. Felix shook his head, chuckling. “Incredible. Our youngest angel has the mighty demon wrapped around his finger.” His eyes glittered with mischief. “Seungmin’s eating out of your hand like a puppy.”

Seungmin whipped his gaze toward Felix, grin sharp as a blade. “And what about you, hm? Isn’t it Felix who eats from Chan’s hand? Just like a starving angel begging at his demon’s table?” His grin turned downright filthy. “Or maybe you’re eating something else he offers… something thicker, bigger… And harder.”

Felix’s eyes went wide, his face burning scarlet. “Seungmin!” he yelped.

Seungmin only laughed, utterly shameless.

I.N., ignoring him now, looked up at Felix with sleepy confusion. “Why are you here so early?”

Felix’s expression sobered. He glanced at Seungmin, making it clear with his stare that the demon was not welcome for this talk.

Seungmin stretched like a cat, catching the hint easily. “Ah, I see. Serious angel business. I’ll leave.” He leaned down before standing, capturing I.N.’s face between his hands and kissing him slow, tender, and deep. When he pulled back, I.N.’s eyes were glazed, cheeks flushed. Seungmin smirked softly, brushing his thumb over his lip. “Goodbye, my love.”

Then he turned to Felix, inclining his head with mocking formality. “Your Majesty.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but Seungmin only chuckled and swept out, closing the door behind him.

Silence hung for a moment before Felix looked back at I.N., who was still staring dreamily at the door. Felix couldn’t resist teasing. “It won’t be long before you let him taste your sweetness.”

I.N. blinked, face reddening instantly. “No! I… I’m scared,” he admitted in a rush. “What if he rejects me for being double sex?”

Felix’s expression softened. He sat beside him, taking his hand. “I thought the same about Chan. I was terrified. But you know what happened?” His lips curved in a faint, almost shy smile. “He didn’t just accept it—he adored it. He makes me feel twice as loved, because he cherishes all of me. Both sides. He enjoys both, he honors both. And, I swear, I never knew pleasure until him.” His cheeks warmed but his eyes stayed firm. “I regret waiting so long. Chan embraced it from the very first second. Seungmin won’t reject you, I.N. He’ll treasure you.”

I.N. swallowed hard, eyes flickering with hope, but he didn’t answer. He only whispered, “Why are you here, prince?”

Felix’s chest tightened. Finally. He exhaled. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

I.N. sat up straighter, instantly attentive.

Felix hesitated. “Yesterday… I overheard the king of the forest. He was talking about the trial. And then… he mentioned a prophecy.”

The word made I.N.’s entire body jolt. “A... a prophecy?” he blurted, then froze. How does the king know? his thoughts raced. Does he have the book? The one I read as a child?

Felix caught the flicker in his expression. “You know something, don’t you?”

“N-no,” I.N. stammered, suddenly nervous. “I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” Felix pressed, eyes narrowing. “You knew I could heal only Chan. You knew that I could heal myself only when Chan’s hand touched mine. How?”

I.N. shifted, biting his lip. “…I just guessed,” he whispered.

Felix shook his head firmly. “No. You knew. Please, I.N.” His voice cracked, desperation bleeding through as he grasped the younger angel’s hands tightly. “Help me.”

I.N. wavered, his eyes glistening. He wanted to lie again, but Felix’s trembling grip made it impossible.

Felix’s voice dropped to a broken whisper. “I heard the king say the prophecy demands that one of us must die. Chan or me. That’s what the trial will force. A maze… where neither of us can leave until the other is dead.”

I.N.’s breath caught. His memory stirred violently, flashes of an old book, half-forgotten words written in fading ink. He froze, eyes wide. Yes. Right. I read that part. Long ago. I remember now that he said…

Felix’s eyes were wet now. “Please, I.N. Tell me the truth.”

The younger angel swallowed hard, then finally whispered, “I don’t know if what the king said is really a prophecy. But… I did read a book once. When I was little. It told a story of a forbidden love between an angel with a demon’s voice and a demon with an angel’s heart. Soulmates. Destined to shake the magical world because of their love.”

Felix froze, blood rushing in his ears.

I.N. continued, voice trembling. “It said the angel could heal only his demon, and the demon could kill to protect only his angel. It spoke of a trial, and of death. One of them would die. But not forever. Just… briefly. Like falling into a confusing dream. And then—life and peace would come.”

Felix’s heart pounded. He whispered, voice hollow, “An angel with a demon’s voice…”

I.N. nodded, eyes wide. “Felix. Your deep voice. So unlike the others. And Chan—he’s a demon, but with the most fragile, tender heart I’ve ever seen. The book described them falling madly in love, healing each other, one living only through the other. And all this…” His throat tightened. “…and all this is happening.”

Felix felt like the ground was crumbling under him. “This… this was written? All of it? About us?”

“I didn’t believe it,” I.N. confessed, voice cracking. “I thought it was childish nonsense. Who would believe in a love between an angel and a demon? But every word… the healing, the forbidden love, the prophecy… it’s happening. To you and Chan.”

Felix stared at him, horrified. “What book? Where? Where can I find it? Why didn’t I know this existed?”

I.N. looked guilty. “In your father’s library. In Heaven. I thought it was just a child’s tale. I read when I was maybe 7… 8? I don’t even remember the name or the color of the book… nothing.”

Felix’s throat burned. His vision blurred. “Then it’s true. One of us must die.”

I.N. shook his head quickly. “No. I don’t remember it as final. I swear. One dies, yes, but only for a moment. I remember that they had to face many more things later... even a war against their kingdoms... so they didn't really die, but something did happen that was like waking up from a dream or something like that. I honestly don't remember much. I was very little. I don’t know how it ends. I don’t remember if it’s happy or not.”

Felix’s tears slipped free. “Please, I.N.… help me. Tell me what to do to save him.”

I.N. blinked. “Save him? Not yourself?”

“Of course not!” Felix gasped. “Not even for a second have I thought of myself. If it means Chan lives, I’d die a thousand times. I’d suffer anything—burn, break, bleed—if it gave him even one more breath. He’s everything to me. Without him, I don’t want to exist.”

The younger angel stared, overwhelmed by the intensity of Felix’s love. His chest tightened, tears stinging his own eyes. He whispered, “Hyung… you’re completely in love with that demon.”

Felix nodded fiercely, without hesitation. “He’s my life. He is my everything. My beginning and my end.” Suddenly, he remembered something. "Wait... I can heal Chan and me. Maybe I can revive us too."

I.N. shook his head. "That doesn't sound familiar. I don't think so.” Silence fell, heavy and raw. I.N. stared down at their joined hands, then exhaled slowly. “But… Maybe…” he murmured, almost to himself. “Maybe there’s a way.”

Felix’s heart lurched. His hands tightened on I.N.’s. “Tell me.”

But I.N. only looked at him with wide, haunted eyes, the weight of something unspoken in them.

_____________________________________

The garden had changed.
Only days ago it had been a graveyard of ice and silence, branches heavy with snow, the air sharp enough to cut the lungs. Now, under the gentle touch of spring, it had become something else entirely. The snow had melted into the soil, leaving the grass fresh and wet, daisies and violets sprouting like little bursts of color against the green. The perfume of wild strawberries drifted in the breeze, mixing with pine.

It was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon of tea and pastries, but anyone watching closely could see the truth. The angels and demons were devouring one another already—if not with their mouths, then with their eyes.

Hyunjin leaned lazily against his chair, golden hair falling across his cheek as he spoke in a low murmur only Changbin could hear. Whatever he whispered made Changbin’s ears flush red, but his smirk betrayed how much he liked it. Every time Hyunjin bit into a sugared tart, his lips glistened, and Changbin’s gaze dropped, unable to look anywhere else.

At another corner, Minho and Jisung barely touched their tea. Instead, they played a silent game—staring, daring, lips twitching with smiles that threatened to break into laughter. Jisung’s foot brushed Minho’s under the table, and Minho raised a brow, his tongue running slowly over his bottom lip in retaliation.

Seungmin and I.N. were worse. The demon sat too close, leaning in every time I.N. tried to take a sip, making the youngest angel nearly choke on his drink. When Seungmin whispered something in his ear, I.N. shoved him with a hiss, cheeks pink, but everyone could see the way his eyes softened immediately afterward. Seungmin only grinned wider, stealing a strawberry from I.N.’s plate without asking.

And then there was Chan and Felix. Felix sat a little straighter than usual, calmer, his breath steady. His talk with I.N. that morning still clung to him like a shield. A plan. A hope. Something to hold onto when despair had been ready to swallow him whole. The words one of you must die still circled in the back of his mind, an echo he couldn’t silence, but at least now—he had direction.

Chan, however, was restless. His hand drummed against the table, the muscle in his jaw tight as he stole glances at Felix across the garden. Every time Felix leaned down to take a sip of tea, the sunlight caught on his hair, making it gleam gold against his pale skin. Every time Felix laughed softly at something one of the other angels said, Chan’s chest clenched, possessive heat flashing in his eyes.

The trays of food didn’t help. Blueberry scones, honey biscuits, little cakes topped with fruits and cream. Chan reached for one absentmindedly, biting into a pastry filled with strawberries and whipped cream.

The taste flooded his mouth—sweet, tangy, thick. His body froze. It was too familiar. His mind betrayed him instantly, dragging him back to nights tangled in silk sheets, Felix arching under him, sweat beading on flushed skin, the taste of him heavy and intoxicating on Chan’s tongue. Exactly the same. The cream and strawberry, the sharp sweetness.

He nearly groaned out loud. His eyes shot up across the tables, locking on Felix. Felix noticed immediately. He stilled, spoon halfway to his mouth, as Chan’s gaze devoured him with the hunger of a predator. A deep, simmering hunger, barely leashed. Felix’s lips parted just slightly, heat spreading under his skin.

Chan didn’t even realize his eyes had darkened until Felix stiffened, aware of being hunted. Chan’s gaze was sharp, feral, hungry, his jaw tight as if he was fighting the urge to leap across the table and devour him in front of everyone.

Felix’s throat bobbed. His cheeks flushed red. He knew exactly what Chan was thinking.

And instead of looking away, Felix leaned back slowly, deliberately. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips in a slow drag. He held Chan’s gaze as he did it, then gave the tiniest smirk. He tilted his head, slow, and pressed the spoon to his lips, sliding it out with a subtle flick of his tongue. Again, a  playful smirk ghosted across his face.

Chan’s leg jerked under the table. His thigh began to bounce, trembling with restrained need. His hand clenched so tightly around his teacup the porcelain threatened to crack.

Felix’s calm only deepened. The tension was unbearable, thick in the air, a silent current running beneath polite chatter. Even the king’s daughters exchanged glances, whispering behind their hands, amused by the way the two tables of supposed enemies couldn’t stop eyeing one another as if war had already begun—just not with swords.

And then the king rose. At once, all conversation died. He lifted his teacup high, his daughters bowing their heads beside him. His voice rolled across the garden with practiced gravity.

“Thank you for joining me this afternoon. It is not only tea I wished to share with you, but news of great importance.”

Every head turned toward him. Even the breeze seemed to hush.

“In two days’ time, the next competition shall take place. And I believe”—his eyes swept the tables, lingering a moment too long on Felix and Chan—“that this trial shall be the one to decide my allegiance. Whether the Forest Kingdom will stand with Heaven… or with Hell.”

Murmurs broke out instantly, shock and tension buzzing across the garden.

Chan leaned forward, unable to hold back. “Your Majesty—please. Can you tell us what the competition will be? Even a hint, so that we may prepare?”

Felix’s heart lurched. His calm wavered for a fraction of a second. He knew. He knew what the trial demanded. The words echoed in his chest. One must die. One must die.

But the king only shook his head, grave and certain.

“No. Fate allows no shortcuts. You must face it blind. Prepare yourselves… for the worst.”

Felix’s chest tightened, but this time he didn’t crumble. He lowered his gaze, hiding his expression, but not from despair—rather from the fierce promise burning inside him.

Across the tables, Chan’s eyes found him again, sharp and worried. Felix felt the weight of that gaze but forced himself to breathe steadily, to stay composed. He couldn’t let Chan see the storm inside him. Not yet. Not until it was too late to stop him.

________________________________

The moment the king and his daughters disappeared back into the palace, silence lasted only a heartbeat. Then, as expected, the demons pounced. Chan rose from his chair, firm hand curling around Felix’s delicate wrist. The angel startled, his robe catching against the chair leg, but he didn’t resist as Chan tugged him toward the garden gates. That was all the invitation the others needed.

“Finally!” Changbin barked, loud enough for half the garden to hear. “Go on, prince. Don’t keep the poor angel waiting. He’s been squirming all afternoon.”

Felix whipped his head around, freckles darkening in outrage. “What—?”

But Minho leaned lazily across the table, smirking like sin itself. “Careful, Felix. He hasn’t touched you in hours. You’re in for it tonight. I’d drink plenty of water if I were you.”

Felix’s cheeks burned, mouth opening and closing in protest.

Seungmin, cool as always, added his poison with a faint smile. “Try not to scream too loud. The walls here are thin, you know. I’d hate for the angels to find out what noises their little prince of Heaven makes.”

“Mm, no, let them hear,” Changbin cut in again, grinning wolfishly. “Maybe they’ll take notes. Felix-ah, do us a favor and moan Chan’s name nice and clear.”

Felix stopped dead in his tracks, spun around, and glared daggers at all three. “You—!” His freckles blazed scarlet. “I will kill you.”

But Seungmin just raised his teacup in mock salute. “Not before Chan does, apparently…kill you with pleasure.”

Chan only laughed low in his chest, dragging Felix along with no intention of slowing down. “Ignore them, babe. They’re just jealous.”

The teasing followed them down the corridor, echoing in Felix’s ears long after the garden was out of sight. His heart hammered—not from embarrassment, but from the way Chan’s grip never wavered, strong and protective, pulling him straight into the storm he’d been dreading. When they reached their chamber, Chan shut the door with a snap, locking out the world. The sudden silence was suffocating.

He didn’t let go of Felix’s wrist. Instead, he tugged him forward, close enough that Felix stumbled into his chest. Dark eyes searched his face, sharp and unrelenting.

“What’s going on with you, butterfly?… Since yesterday,” Chan said quietly, voice rough with concern, “you’ve been… different. Sad. Distracted. What’s wrong with my angel?”

Felix’s lips parted. For a second, the truth clawed at his throat: the prophecy, the king’s words, the looming shadow of death. But he bit it back, burying it deep where Chan couldn’t reach.

“I…” His voice faltered. He forced himself closer, pressing his forehead against Chan’s collarbone, hiding in his warmth. “I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid?” Chan tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze again. “Of what?”

Felix’s stomach twisted. The lie slid off his tongue, smooth but bitter. He couldn’t say that he was worried about the competition and the death of one of them. “Of what happens after. When the trial ends. When the king chooses. When everything explodes, Chan. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

For a moment, silence. Then Chan’s grip tightened, his expression twisting in raw disbelief. “No. No, Felix, don’t say that.”

“Chan—”

“No.” His voice cracked, harsh and desperate. “We already talked about this. We promised each other. We’d stay together, no matter what. Even if it means standing against Heaven, against Hell. Against everyone.”

Felix shook his head, fighting back the sting in his eyes. “We have to be smart. You think we can just walk up to our parents, tell them, ‘Mother, Father, this is my future husband’? They’d kill us before we even finished the sentence.”

Chan’s jaw locked. “Then fuck the kingdoms… We will run away.”

Felix flinched. “Chan, listen—”

“No, you listen,” Chan snapped, voice trembling with rage and grief. “I won’t lose you. NEVER. I don’t care if it’s treason, if it’s war, if it’s the end of the world itself. I won’t—”

Felix couldn’t bear it anymore. He silenced him the only way he knew how. Their mouths crashed together, wet and hungry, teeth clashing. Felix bit down on Chan’s bottom lip, pulling until Chan groaned into him. Their tongues tangled, hot and slick, battling for dominance, neither willing to relent.

Chan’s hands slid down Felix’s back, gripping tight, pulling him flush against his body. Felix’s fingers curled into Chan’s hair, tugging, desperate, as if he could drown out the prophecy with nothing but the taste of him. The kiss deepened, deeper still, until Felix thought he might dissolve into it, until breathing became irrelevant. He kissed Chan with everything he had—fear, love, desperation, devotion—all poured into the press of lips and tongue. When they finally tore apart, panting, foreheads pressed together, Chan’s eyes were wild.

“And that?” His voice rasped, lips swollen, wet. “What the hell was that?”

Felix swallowed hard, forcing his voice steady. “That… was me saying… that I love you more than the air to breathe…. That I need you…” His voice cracked, and he pulled him close again, whispering against his lips. “I just want to love you.”

The fire in Chan’s eyes softened, melted into something deeper, hotter. He smirked, breathless. “Careful. That almost sounded like you’re asking me to make love to you instead.”

Felix managed a shaky laugh, freckles glowing crimson. “Almost? I thought I was being obvious.”

“Oh, angel.” Chan’s voice dropped, husky, teasing. He nipped at Felix’s jaw, tracing his lips along his skin. “Obvious is when you beg. Should I make you beg?”

Felix gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. “I don’t beg.”

“You will,” Chan murmured, lips brushing the corner of his mouth. “And when you do, I’ll make sure those bastards down the hall hear every sound you make.”

Felix shivered, heat pooling low in his stomach. He tried for defiance, whispering back, “Maybe I’ll scream their names just to spite you.”

Chan growled, capturing his lips again in another bruising kiss, swallowing his laughter. “Try it. I dare you.”

Their mouths tangled, their words dissolving into breathless moans and wicked laughter. Chan teased, Felix taunted back, every touch a battle of love and desire. And through it all, Felix clung tighter than ever—not just out of passion, but out of fear. Because if the prophecy was true, these moments might be all they had left.

For a heartbeat, silence filled the room, broken only by the faint rush of their own breathing. Then Chan was there, his presence like gravity itself, pulling Felix into him. His hands pressed firmly against Felix’s waist, his lips claiming his with a hunger that was more than physical. It was need. It was devotion. Felix clutched at him, his fingers tangling desperately in Chan’s shirt as if the fabric were the only thing tethering him to this world. His lips trembled under Chan’s, but he kissed back with equal fire, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the press of their mouths.

When they finally broke apart, gasping, Chan rested his forehead against Felix’s. “Do you promise me that we will always be together and that we will love each other until the end?… Please…”

Felix’s throat tightened. He wanted to scream the truth, wanted to tell him about the prophecy, about the cruel possibility that one of them would not survive. But the words stuck, trapped in his chest. So he smiled faintly, lying with a half-truth. “Always…”

Chan studied him with eyes that saw far too much. But instead of pressing, he brushed a thumb across Felix’s cheek, his voice softening. “Then let me love you, my firefly.…”

Felix’s breath caught. He nodded quickly, as if the very idea was a lifeline. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Love me, Chan. Please.”

Their mouths crashed together again, fiercer now, deeper, tongues meeting in a dance that was equal parts battle and surrender. Chan pushed him gently back toward the bed, every step filled with anticipation until Felix’s knees hit the mattress and he sank down, pulling Chan with him.

They kissed like they had been starving for centuries. Chan’s hands roamed over Felix’s back, sliding beneath the fabric of his robes, fingertips exploring the smooth skin hidden underneath. Felix gasped into his mouth, arching into the touch, his own hands fumbling at Chan’s clothing with shaking urgency.

But Chan stilled his hands with a firm grip. “Slow,” he murmured against his lips, voice husky. “We have time. I want to remember every moment.”

Felix almost sobbed at the words. Time. If only that were true. But he nodded, letting Chan set the pace. Chan kissed him again, softer now, then trailed his lips down—over his jaw, his throat, lingering at the rapid pulse beating there. Felix tilted his head, giving him more, his breath shuddering as Chan’s teeth grazed his skin lightly.

“Mine,” Chan whispered against his neck. “Always mine.”

“Yes,” Felix gasped. “Yours. Always… and you’re mine, demon.”

Clothing fell away piece by piece. Chan slid Felix’s robe from his shoulders with reverence, pressing a kiss to each inch of revealed skin—the curve of his collarbone, the freckles scattered like stars across his chest, the soft rise and fall of his stomach. Felix trembled under the worship, his fingers digging into the sheets, his lips parted in small, breathless sounds.

When Felix’s chest was bare, Chan leaned back, eyes drinking him in. “Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, awe in every syllable. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Felix flushed, shy under the intensity of that gaze, but something warm bloomed in his chest. He reached forward, tugging at Chan’s own clothes until skin met skin, until he could finally trace the lines of his lover’s chest, the strength in his arms, the heartbeat thundering beneath his palm.

“You’re the beautiful one,” Felix whispered, voice shaking. “You’re everything.”

They undressed each other fully, every touch deliberate, every kiss a vow. When at last there was nothing between them but heat, they paused, standing in the quiet of the moment. Two souls, bared not just in body but in truth.

Felix’s eyes brimmed with tears he fought to hold back. Chan noticed—of course he noticed—but instead of speaking, he cupped Felix’s face and kissed him softly, as if to say I see you. I love you anyway.

Chan pressed Felix down with gentle insistence, hovering above him, his lips capturing every sigh, every whisper. He trailed down Felix’s body again, slower this time, kissing every inch of skin like a prayer. Felix’s hands threaded into his hair, his back arching, soft cries escaping with each press of lips.

When Chan lowered himself further still, Felix’s breath hitched, his thighs trembling. Chan knelt in front of the bed, his eyes fixed on the figure of his angel lying on the rumpled sheets. Felix was lying on his back, his legs slightly open, a silent invitation he quickly accepted. Chan approached slowly, as if each movement were a sacred ritual, and positioned himself between his legs. With a softness that contrasted with the intensity of his intentions, he began to kiss the inside of his thighs. His lips brushed his skin like feathers, leaving a trail of warmth that made him shiver. Felix closed his eyes, allowing himself to be carried away by the sensations running through his body. Chan’s mouth was soft, tender, patient. The sounds that left Felix’s lips were breathless, broken, almost embarrassed at first.

Chan’s tongue traced invisible paths, exploring delicately, getting closer and closer to his destination. With the tip of his tongue, Chan circled Felix's clit, avoiding direct contact, building the anticipation to unbearable levels. Felix moaned with need. His back arched slightly, as if his body was trying to get closer to him, begging for more. Chan responded with a whisper, a silent promise that the best was yet to come. With one hand, he inserted a finger into his pussy and another in his ass, moving them with a steady rhythm that made Felix moan again. His other hand slid down to his thigh.

Suddenly, Chan plunges his tongue into Felix, licking firmly from his entrance to his clit, over and over again. Chan combined pressure and gentleness, as if he knew exactly what Felix needed, what would make him lose control.

“You taste like heaven…. My angel, so sweet.” Chan looked at him with a smile. “Let me hear you, love.”

Felix moaned Chan's name. His hands gripped the sheets. Chan increased the intensity, sucking and licking with a skill that made him writhe with pleasure. Chan's fingers moved rhythmically inside Felix, while his tongue worked tirelessly, exploring every corner, every fold of his sex. Felix felt full, complete, as if Chan were everywhere at once. His clit throbbed, swollen and sensitive, begging for more attention. Chan knew it, and with an inward smile, decided to give him what he asked for. In one fluid motion, Chan changed the angle of his tongue, pressing directly on his clit.

"Don't stop... please..." Felix begged, his voice a breathy whisper. But Chan didn't need the prompting; he had no intention of stopping. He was too close, too immersed in the pleasure he was giving him. His own arousal grew with every moan his angel emitted, with every movement of his body. He knew he was about to make him explode, and that drove him even crazier.

And then, he increased the intensity once more. He sucked harder, sucked more determinedly, and Felix couldn't hold back any longer. His body tensed, every muscle contracted, and he cried out, his voice filling the room as his orgasm washed over him. Chan didn't stop, even when Felix trembled and writhed beneath him. He kept licking, sucking, and feeding on the strawberries-and-cream taste of Felix's slick, as if he wanted to prolong his ecstasy, as if he wanted to make sure not a drop of pleasure was left unextracted. Felix gasped, his body still trembling, as Chan finally stopped, lifting his head to look at his angel.

When Chan finally came back up, Felix pulled him into a desperate kiss, tasting himself on his lips and not caring. All that mattered was Chan—his warmth, his love, his presence.

“I want you,” Chan whispered hoarsely, pressing their foreheads together. “All of you. Always.”

Felix’s answer was immediate, breathless. “Then take me. I’m yours.”

The joining was slow, reverent. Chan entered him with care, pausing to kiss away the gasps, holding him through the initial shiver of adjustment. He finally buried his entire cock inside Felix's pussy. Felix clung to him, legs wrapping tight around his waist, eyes squeezed shut as his breath came in shallow pants.

Chan kissed his temple, his jaw, the corner of his lips. “Breathe, angel. I’ve got you. Always.”

Felix nodded, opening his eyes to meet Chan’s. The world fell away. There was only them. When Chan began to move, it was slow, measured, a rhythm of love rather than lust. Felix moaned softly, each sound muffled against Chan’s lips as they kissed through the movements. Their hands remained entwined, fingers locked tight, their bodies rocking together in a dance older than time.

“I love you,” Chan murmured between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Felix gasped the same words back, again and again, until it became a mantra, a lifeline, the only truth that mattered.

The pace built gradually, shifting from slow tenderness to something deeper, more urgent. Felix clung tighter, his tears dampening Chan’s shoulder as his body trembled with the overwhelming mixture of pleasure and grief.

“Don’t cry, angel,” Chan whispered, though his own voice cracked. “Please don’t cry.”

Felix kissed him fiercely through the tears. “I can’t help it. I just love you too much, my demon.”

They changed positions, Chan rolling onto his back and pulling Felix atop him. Felix braced himself on his chest, hair falling into his eyes, freckles glowing with sweat and flushed skin. Chan’s hands gripped his hips, guiding him gently as Felix moved above him, riding each motion with a mix of shyness and desperation. Felix felt the demon's cock deep inside him.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Chan whispered, eyes wide with awe. “My angel, my everything.”

Felix bent down to kiss him, whispering, “Yours…my wolf from hell…  Always yours.”

They shifted again and again, tangled limbs, breathless kisses, whispered promises filling the room. Sometimes slow and lingering, sometimes fast and desperate, but always together, always connected. Their eyes never strayed, their hands never let go.

"I'm going to cum... Lix... I can't take it anymore... it feels too good to be inside you..."

"Cum inside me, prince," Felix begged desperately. "I need to feel your warm cum in me."

When release finally came, it was at the same time. A shared cry tore from their throats, a shudder that shook them both to the core. They clung to each other, trembling, as if afraid the other might vanish in the aftermath.

Felix buried his face in Chan’s neck, sobbing softly. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered, the words tumbling like a prayer.

Chan held him tighter, kissing his hair, whispering back the same vow until the words blurred into eternity.

For a long while, they lay there in silence, their bodies tangled, their breathing slowly evening out. Felix traced circles on Chan’s chest with trembling fingers, his heart aching with both joy and fear. He wanted to freeze this moment, to never let it end. If fate demanded one of them be lost… Felix would die, not Chan. He could not bear a world without his demon lying beside him.

But for now, in the cocoon of their love, he let the thought drift away. Tonight, there was only Chan. Only them. And in that fragile eternity, they were infinite.

Chapter Text

I.N. had dragged everyone into his room with the weight of urgency written all over his face. Seungmin, Minho, Jisung, Changbin, and Hyunjin gathered around, though none of them missed the faint, muffled sounds coming from down the corridor.

Everyone knew exactly what Chan and Felix were doing. No one dared name it outright, but the smirks, the sideways glances, the quiet chuckles said it all.

Minho, ever the provocateur, leaned against I.N.’s desk with a wicked grin curling across his lips.

“So tell me,” he drawled, “why exactly are we here? Because if this is some kind of orgy between the six of us… I mean, I’m not opposed. Sounds pretty good to me.”

Jisung groaned dramatically, though laughter leaked through. “Oh my god, demon!! You’re impossible.”

Changbin jumped in right on cue, grinning like the devil he was. “Not gonna lie, I’ve had that fantasy. Angels on all fours, me behind them, tasting every drop of their sweetness.”

Seungmin blinked. His expression was all innocence, though his voice was sharp with impatience. “Okay. That’s it. I’ve heard this damned word sweetness every single time you degenerates open your mouths, and no one has explained it to me. What the hell is it supposed to mean?”

Changbin inhaled like he was about to launch into a very detailed answer—

“Don’t even bother, Bin,” Hyunjin cut him off smoothly, his tone cool and cutting. His gaze, however, flicked toward Changbin with pointed fire. “Seungmin, you’re not the only one who hasn’t tasted that so-called sweetness. Because as of now, Changbin won’t be tasting it either. Not from me. He’s going to stay thirsty.”

Every head in the room whipped toward them.

“What?” Changbin choked, eyes wide. “Excuse me?!”

Hyunjin only crossed his arms, tilting his chin up with a challenge. “You heard me.”

Hyunjin only crossed his arms, chin tilted defiantly, though his cheeks were betraying him with the faintest pink.

The silence was thick until Changbin, ever the dramatic one, dropped to his knees in front of Hyunjin with a groan loud enough to rattle the rafters. “No! Don’t say that, my beautiful angel! I need it, Jinnie, every day or I’ll die!”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened. “Then go fantasize about someone else. You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

Changbin’s grin turned slow and sinful, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer. “Wait. Are you jealous?”

Hyunjin’s eyes blazed. “Of course I’m jealous! Do you think I want to imagine my man picturing anyone el—” He cut himself off, choking on his own words. His entire face went crimson.

“Your what?” Changbin teased, voice dropping. “Your man?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth, closed it, and turned a dangerous shade of red.

Changbin didn’t let him backpedal. He caught Hyunjin’s face in his hands and kissed him hard. The kiss was hot, desperate, and every bit as unrestrained as the demon himself. Hyunjin froze for a beat, then melted, kissing him back like he’d been waiting for it.

When they finally broke apart, breaths mingling, Changbin’s eyes softened. “That’s all I needed,” he whispered. “To know you wanted me just for you.”

Hyunjin swallowed hard, eyes glossy but fierce.

Changbin’s expression softened. His thumb brushed Hyunjin’s cheek tenderly. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, voice thick with certainty. “From now on, you’re the only one I see. The only one I want. My future husband.”

The others stared, jaws slack, every single one of them stunned. Hyunjin’s lips parted, trembling, but Changbin only smirked and leaned back casually like he hadn’t just confessed everything in front of the group.

That was when I.N. slammed his palm on the table. “Enough! I let you have your love drama, but now we get serious.”

The mood shifted instantly.

“I brought you here because Felix knows about the prophecy.”

The silence was sharp enough to cut through steel.

Minho’s smirk vanished. “Repeat that.”

I.N. exhaled heavily. “Yesterday, Felix cornered me. He realized I was hiding something. And after… after what happened when he healed Chan—and then healed himself with Chan’s hand on his—he knew there was more to it. He pressed me. And then…” He paused, brow furrowing. “…he overheard the Forest King himself speaking of the prophecy. And the trial tomorrow. That’s how he knows.”

“Hold on.” Jisung leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “If the king knows, that means—”

“—the book must be here,” I.N. finished. His voice was steady now, sharp with urgency. “The one I read as a child. It has to be somewhere in this palace. If the king knows, he must have it.”

The room went still when I.N. mentioned the book.

Minho frowned, arms crossing. “Okay, but let’s say you’re right. Let’s say the book’s hidden somewhere here. What’s the point of finding it? We already know there’s a prophecy about an angel and a demon who would destroy the magical world just to be together—what else could it tell us?”

I.N. shook his head firmly. “No. You don’t understand. The prophecy doesn’t say everything outright. It’s written in riddles. You have to read between the lines, decipher what it actually means. If we find the book, I can trace the story, step by step. And maybe—just maybe—we’ll see the ending before it happens.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly is that ending supposed to be?”

I.N. hesitated, then spoke quietly, his words heavy. “It is not the end as such because I remember that the story continues, although I do not remember how… But the thing Felix heard it says one of them dies. And then… wakes up. As if from a dream. A very confusing dream.”

The silence that followed was absolute. Every pair of eyes widened.

“Sorry, what?” Minho broke it, his voice sharper than usual. “One of them what?”

I.N. raised a hand quickly. “Don’t panic. I have a plan. Felix and I… we’ve talked about it. In case it really comes to that... I can't tell you what is about... But listen to me carefully—” His gaze swept over them, lingering on the demons in particular. His voice hardened. “You cannot tell Chan. If you do, Felix won’t be able to save him. Promise me you won’t breathe a word.”

The demons exchanged glances—Changbin, Minho even Seungmin. One by one, they nodded.

“Not a word,” Changbin said.

“Fine,” Seungmn muttered.

“You have our promise,” Minho added.

Only then did I.N. exhale, his shoulders loosening slightly. “Good. Then the book becomes everything. If I can read it again, I’ll remember the steps. I’ll know what happens before it happens. And if we’re one step ahead, maybe… just maybe, we can keep them alive. Both of them.”

The weight of his words pressed on every one of them.

Seungmin stepped forward, calm but firm, and pressed a kiss to I.N.’s cheek. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Tear this place apart until we find that damned book. Even if it’s hidden behind every painting in this cursed castle.”

Jisung nodded, immediately stepping into action. “Alright. We split into groups to cover more ground. Changbin and Hyunjin, you two are together. Minho and me. Seungmin, you’re with I.N.”

The pairs nodded, some with smirks, others with deadly seriousness.

But before they could leave, Minho snorted, a wicked grin creeping back. “Just to be clear, everyone—focus on finding the book, not on hooking up in random rooms. Because if I walk in on anyone moaning instead of searching, I’m burning the place down.”

Jisung laughed, clapping him on the back. “Yeah. Keep it in your pants, Bin. Save the sweetness for later.”

Changbin only smirked, throwing an arm over Hyunjin’s shoulders. “No promises.”

Hyunjin elbowed him hard in the ribs, but even he was smiling faintly. And with that, they left the room, determination and mischief tangled together—ready to chase the truth before time ran out.

___________________________________

Felix lay sprawled against Chan’s chest, his cheek pressed over the steady, deep thrum of his demon’s heartbeat. Chan’s arm was wrapped tight around him, his other hand tracing slow, deliberate shapes over the curve of Felix’s back. The touch was tender, but his voice was anything but.

“You keep clinging to me like this,” Chan murmured, lips brushing Felix’s temple, “and I’ll start to think you’re begging me to pin you down and ruin you again.”

Felix laughed under his breath, even as heat rose to his cheeks. “Begging? Please. If I were begging, you’d already be flat on your back, and I’d be riding you until you forgot your own name.”

Chan’s brows arched, a dark chuckle escaping him. “Is that a promise? Because if you’re offering, I’ll gladly give you the reins, angel. Though…” He tilted Felix’s chin up with a finger, his smirk dripping sin. “…we both know you’d break first. You always do.”

Felix swatted his chest but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll prove you wrong.”

“Oh, I want you to prove me wrong,” Chan purred, his mouth grazing the shell of Felix’s ear. “I want to hear you try to take control—only to end up crying my name when I flip you over and make you mine all over again.”

Felix shivered, his breath hitching before he laughed nervously, shoving at him. “You’re disgusting.”

Chan grinned wickedly. “And yet you love it. Don’t pretend you don’t get hard every time I talk to you like this.”

Felix’s blush deepened, and he turned his face away with a huff. “Maybe I do. Maybe I like when my demon can’t shut up about all the filthy things he wants to do to me.”

That earned him a growl, low and possessive, before Chan captured his lips in a hot, messy kiss. Their tongues tangled, the kiss wet and greedy, Felix clinging to Chan’s shoulders as if he’d fall apart without him.

When they finally pulled apart, panting, Chan licked at Felix’s swollen lips like he couldn’t help himself. “Fuck, angel… You taste like sin. Like you were made just for me.”

Felix bit his lip, his smile curling impishly. “Maybe I was. Maybe you’re stuck with me forever, whether you like it or not.”

“Forever sounds perfect,” Chan said smoothly, kissing him again before suddenly pulling back with a casual air that didn’t match the heat still burning in his eyes. “By the way… would you do me a favor?”

Felix blinked, still dazed from the kiss. “A favor? That sounds suspicious.”

“Take a couple of hares down to Lunarys for me,” Chan said, brushing a strand of hair from Felix’s face. “She hasn’t eaten yet, and I promised her. But there’s something I need to take care of, so I can’t get near her today.”

Felix softened immediately, his smile fond. “Of course. Honestly, I’ve missed her. I guess since you and I got together, I’ve officially become her mom, huh?”

Chan’s grin widened, wicked. “Mm. Our little family. You’re the doting mother, I’m the overprotective father, and Lunarys is our spoiled baby dragon…” Chan laughed. “Enjoy your little girls’ afternoon with our daughter”

Felix snorted, rolling his eyes as he sat up. “You’re ridiculous.”

Chan leaned back lazily against the pillows, his gaze trailing shamelessly down Felix’s body. “Ridiculous, but sexy. Admit it. You can’t get enough of me.”

Felix stuck out his tongue at him in mock defiance.

Chan’s smirk sharpened instantly. “Careful with that tongue, angel. Keep it out like that and I’ll have you using it where it really belongs—wrapped around me while you’re on your knees.”

Felix choked on air, face flaming as he shoved at Chan’s shoulder. “Yah! You’re impossible!”

Chan only laughed darkly, eyes glittering. “Impossible, or irresistible?”

Felix narrowed his eyes, refusing to lose. “If you want to talk about tongues, maybe you should focus on yours. You’re far better at making me beg with that mouth of yours than I’ll ever be with mine.”

That shut Chan up for a second, his jaw slackening as heat flooded his expression. Then he groaned low, dragging his hands down his own face. “Fuck, angel, you can’t just say shit like that and expect me to let you walk out of this room.”

Felix grinned, emboldened, leaning close to press a teasing kiss to his lips. “Consider it motivation for when I get back. If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you prove it tonight… my sweetness is always ready for my wolf from hell…”

Chan’s hands tightened on his waist like he wanted to keep him there forever. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I’ll make you scream my name until the walls shake.”

Felix’s laugh was breathless, his face burning as he finally stood, moving toward the door. He opened it, looking back with mischief in his eyes. “Goodbye, my demon.”

Chan lounged against the bedframe like a king, smirk sharp enough to cut. “Don’t take too long, angel. If you do, I’ll come find you… and when I’m done, you won’t be walking for days.”

Felix’s face turned crimson, and he stuck his tongue out again just to spite him. “Pervert.”

Chan’s voice dropped, hot and dirty, following Felix into the hall. “Better save that tongue for me, angel. I’ll make sure you use it the way I like best.”

Felix yelped, half laughing, half dying of embarrassment, and slammed the door shut behind him—heart racing, lips tingling, and cheeks impossibly red.

_______________________________

Felix walked through the quiet castle corridors, the weight of a heavy leather satchel pressing against his side. Inside were five freshly prepared hares—Chan’s handiwork. The demon had skinned and cleaned them himself, setting them aside for Lunarys as though he were a doting parent. Felix couldn’t help but smile at the thought: his terrifying, ruthless demon, fussing over their dragon like she was some pampered princess.

The kitchen staff had watched with raised brows when Felix strode in, grabbed the satchel, and slung it over his shoulder like he owned the place. He didn’t care. Lunarys was family now. Feeding her wasn’t a chore—it was a privilege.

The air grew cooler as he stepped out of the castle, down the winding paths that cut into the forest. Shafts of late-afternoon sunlight pierced through the canopy, bathing the moss and wildflowers in golden light. Felix’s boots crunched over leaves, his pace steady. When he finally reached the clearing—their clearing—he paused.

Taking a deep breath, Felix lifted his fingers to his lips and imitated the low, sharp whistle Chan always used to summon her. For a moment, there was only silence. Then the sound of wings thundered above the treetops, making the branches sway and the ground tremble.

And there she was. Lunarys burst from the sky in a blaze of silver, her scales glinting as though she carried the stars themselves across her body. She circled once, then swooped down gracefully, landing with a heavy thud that sent leaves flying. The earth vibrated with her presence, yet to Felix she felt more like a playful kitten than a deadly dragon.

“Hey, my girl,” Felix said softly, his voice warm with affection as Lunarys bounded forward like an oversized hound. She pressed her great snout against his chest, nearly knocking him over. Laughing, Felix wrapped his arms around her head, hugging her tightly. “Missed me? Yeah, I missed you too. Look at you—still as beautiful as ever.”

Her scales shimmered as she huffed against him, the warm gust of her breath ruffling his hair. Felix pulled back with a grin and lifted the satchel.

“I brought you something, little princess,” he said, swinging the bag open. The metallic tang of raw meat filled the air. “Dinner’s served, sweetheart.”

At the sight, Lunarys let out an eager rumble, her eyes flashing with excitement. Her tail swished like a whip, and Felix chuckled. “Patience, love. One at a time.”

He reached in, pulled out the first hare, and tossed it into the air. With perfect precision, Lunarys snapped it up, her teeth crunching audibly. Felix winced at the sound of bones breaking but smiled anyway, murmuring softly, “Good girl. That’s my clever hunter.”

One by one, he fed her, throwing the hares into her waiting maw. She devoured them eagerly, each crunch echoing across the clearing. Felix never stopped talking, his words gentle and affectionate, as though he were soothing a child.

“You’ve grown so much stronger,” he whispered when she finished the last hare, licking her chops with a low, satisfied growl. “And tomorrow… tomorrow’s going to be hard. For me and Chan.”

At the mention of the trial, Lunarys froze. Her golden eyes sharpened, and a low growl rose from her chest.

Felix sighed, pressing his forehead against her snout. “I know. I know you don’t like it. Neither do I.” He closed his eyes, the weight of his promise heavy in his chest. “But listen to me. If things get bad… if it comes down to it… I’ll give my life for him. I swear it.”

The dragon rumbled louder, her scales rippling with unease. Felix hugged her tighter, his arms straining to reach around her massive head.

“Shh, shh… Don’t worry,” he soothed, pressing a kiss against the cool, silvery scales of her nose. “I’ll never let anything happen to him. I love him too much. Do you hear me? Nothing—no prophecy, no trial, no goddamn king—will take him from me. I’ll make sure he walks away tomorrow whole. That’s my promise to you.”

Lunarys’s golden eyes locked with his, ancient wisdom swirling inside them. She bumped her snout against his chest, then lowered her head, tilting it sideways. An unmistakable gesture.

Felix blinked, startled. “…Wait. Are you telling me to get on?”

The dragon huffed and gave a firm, guttural roar, stamping her claws into the dirt for emphasis.

Felix’s lips parted, and then he laughed incredulously. “You’re serious? Me? On my own?” He glanced around the empty clearing, suddenly aware that there was no Chan here to steady him, no strong arms at his back. “I’ve never ridden without him before. He’s always been behind me, holding me…”

Another roar, louder this time, made the trees shake.

Felix threw up his hands, grinning despite his nerves. “Alright, alright! You’re as stubborn as your father, you know that?” He snickered, stroking her neck. “Fine. I’ll trust you.”

With practiced ease, he clambered onto her back, settling himself carefully between the ridges of her scales. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

“Okay, girl,” he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck. “Let’s do this. Show me what it feels like to really fly.”

Lunarys spread her massive wings, their span blotting out the sunlight. With a powerful leap, she launched into the sky. Felix gasped as the wind tore past his face, cold and biting, his hair whipping wildly. But soon the fear gave way to pure, unfiltered joy.

He laughed—loud, breathless, free—as the forest fell away beneath them. Rivers glistened like silver threads, lakes shimmered like pools of glass, and the horizon stretched endlessly. Felix pressed himself against Lunarys’s neck, eyes stinging as he whispered, “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me.”

For nearly an hour, they soared together. Felix spoke to her constantly, describing every mountain, every glittering lake, every sun-drenched meadow they passed. He talked as though she understood, and maybe she did. She twitched her ears at his words, adjusted her flight as though responding.

Then suddenly, her ears flicked sharply. She stiffened mid-flight, her head jerking toward the distance.

“What is it?” Felix asked, straining to listen. He heard nothing but wind.

But Lunarys banked hard, circling back toward the clearing. Her instincts were absolute, so Felix held tight, trusting her. Minutes later, they descended back into the forest, trees rushing up to meet them.

When they landed, Felix’s heart nearly stopped. Chan stood there, waiting.

His dark hair glowed in the sunlight filtering through the leaves, his arms crossed as he watched them with raised brows. The sight of him—strong, handsome, his expression caught between amusement and awe—made Felix’s stomach flip.

“You let him ride you alone?” Chan asked, stepping forward, disbelief lacing his tone.

Felix slid down from Lunarys’s back, landing lightly on the grass. “I didn’t have much of a choice,” he said with a grin. “She practically ordered me on. What was I supposed to do, say no?”

Chan stared at his dragon. “Traitor,” he muttered darkly. “You’ve been giving him those big golden eyes, haven’t you? Trying to steal my boyfriend?”

Felix burst out laughing. “Too late. My heart belongs to her now, not you.”

Lunarys let out a delighted rumble, curling her tail smugly around Felix.

Chan groaned dramatically, dragging a hand over his face. “Unbelievable. Both of you against me.”

Felix tilted his head, smirking. “Maybe you should be nicer to me then. Or I’ll choose her over you.”

Chan shot him a lethal glare, though his dimples betrayed his amusement. He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Careful, angel. I might just have to remind you who you really belong to.”

Felix flushed, his heart skipping—but he forced a laugh, refusing to give Chan the satisfaction. “You’re all bark.”

“Oh, I’ll give you more than bark,” Chan muttered under his breath, his smirk wicked.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Pervert.”

But before he could tease him further, he blinked. “Wait… what are you doing here? Didn’t you say you had to do something?”

Chan’s smile shifted—softer now, but with an edge of excitement. “I told you I couldn’t come today because…. Because… I had a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Felix asked suspiciously.

“Follow me and see,” Chan said simply, holding out his hand.

Felix hesitated, but when he slipped his hand into Chan’s, his chest tightened. Such a simple gesture, but it made his pulse race. He looked up, and Chan’s grin widened, his dimples deepening. Felix melted instantly.

They walked hand in hand through the woods, Felix’s curiosity burning with every step. When they finally broke through the trees, Felix froze.

Nestled in a sun-dappled clearing stood a cabin. Not just any cabin—an exquisite structure of polished wood and crystal-clear glass, reflecting the light like a jewel in the forest. It looked small but perfect, a sanctuary carved from nature itself. Felix’s throat tightened. He knew instantly what it was. The princesses’ promise—a place where he and Chan could exist together, openly, without hiding.

Chan turned to him, his smile tender. “I spent the last hour making something special for us. Dinner’s ready inside.” He squeezed Felix’s hand. “Welcome to our new refuge.”

Felix’s heart swelled, his eyes prickling as he stared at the cabin, then at the man who held his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Chan leaned down, voice dropping into a low, teasing purr. “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me alive, angel. Should I be scared?”

Felix smirked, cheeks pink. “Scared? No. But maybe you should be flattered.”

Chan’s grin was sharp enough to cut. “Oh, I’m more than flattered. I’m hard already.”

Felix laughed breathlessly, swatting at him, but his eyes glowed with love.

__________________________________

The cabin’s door creaked softly as Chan pushed it open, leading Felix inside. The warm glow of firelight spilled across polished wood, gleaming glass panes, and a table set for two. Candles flickered in the center, their flames dancing like mischievous spirits, casting golden light across the plates of food Chan had arranged with surprising care.

Felix’s breath caught. He wasn’t used to seeing the demon in this kind of setting—gentle, thoughtful, vulnerable. “You… you cooked all this?”

Chan shrugged, though the pride in his eyes betrayed him. “Don’t look so shocked. I can handle more than just killing things and brooding in dark corners.”

Felix smirked. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Careful,” Chan warned with a grin, stepping behind Felix and wrapping his arms around his waist. He lowered his lips to Felix’s ear, whispering, “Insult the chef, and you’ll pay for it later.”

Felix’s cheeks warmed instantly, though he forced a laugh. “Promises, promises.”

Chan pulled away with a playful growl, guiding Felix to the table. They sat across from each other, the fire crackling softly, the smell of roasted meat and herbs filling the room. For a moment, Felix let himself pretend this was normal—two lovers sharing a quiet evening, without trials, without prophecies, without the looming shadow of death.

Chan poured them both glasses of dark red wine, raising his own in a toast. His eyes softened as they locked with Felix’s.

“To us,” he said simply. “To tomorrow. To winning, together.”

Felix’s fingers trembled around the stem of his glass. He forced his lips into a smile, raising his glass. “To us,” he echoed. His voice caught slightly, but Chan didn’t notice.

They clinked their glasses, the crystal chiming in the quiet cabin. Felix sipped the wine, the bitterness biting at his tongue. Inside, his heart ached. Tomorrow, one of them was meant to die. And Felix already knew—it wouldn’t be Chan. He would make sure of it.

But he swallowed the thought with another sip, plastering his smile back on. Chan deserved happiness, not worry.

“So,” Chan said, cutting into his food with practiced ease. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you love me for all this effort?”

Felix raised a brow. “What if I say a six?”

Chan’s fork froze midair. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Six?”

Felix bit back a grin, twirling his fork lazily. “Yeah. I mean, points off for presentation. You could’ve added flowers, maybe some music, maybe be naked in front of me…”

Chan dropped his fork with a dramatic clatter, leaning back in his chair. “Unbelievable. I slave over this meal, risk burning the entire cabin down, and you give me a six?”

Felix burst out laughing, nearly choking on his wine. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding. It’s perfect, Chan. Really. I will give you 100 of 10.”

Chan tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips. “You know, angel, for that little stunt, I should bend you over this table right now.”

Felix coughed, his face flaming red. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Chan’s voice dropped, low and husky, his gaze darkening.

Felix swallowed hard, then forced a smirk. “Not while I’ve got a fork in my hand.” He held it up threateningly.

Chan chuckled, leaning forward. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re defiant.”

They ate, though the meal was punctuated with laughter, teasing, and stolen glances that spoke louder than words. Every time Felix reached for something, Chan’s hand would brush his. Every time Felix tried to eat calmly, Chan would lean in and murmur something obscene that made him choke on his food.

“Chan!” Felix hissed after one particularly filthy comment.

“What?” Chan asked innocently, eyes glinting. “I was just describing what I’m going to do to you when we finish eating.”

Felix buried his face in his hands, half mortified, half thrilled. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

Felix peeked at him through his fingers, lips curling into a reluctant smile. “Unfortunately.”

They lingered over dessert, fingers brushing more often than not, lips finding each other between bites. The kisses started soft, lingering—Felix tasting wine on Chan’s mouth, Chan pulling him closer by the wrist. But soon, they grew hotter, more desperate, as if both of them knew time was running out.

Chan nipped at Felix’s lower lip, smirking against his mouth. “Mmm. Sweet. But not as sweet as you sound when you moan.”

Felix pulled back, breathless and flushed. “You’re insufferable.”

“Say that again later when you can’t walk straight,” Chan murmured.

Felix’s cheeks burned. “You’re disgusting, wolf from the hell.”

“And you’re blushing,” Chan teased, kissing him again.

Felix melted against him, fingers curling in Chan’s shirt, trying not to think about tomorrow, about the prophecy, about death. For tonight, there was only this—the warmth of the fire, the taste of wine and laughter, the safety of Chan’s arms.

When they finally pulled apart, Felix rested his forehead against Chan’s, smiling faintly. “Thank you… for this. For all of it.”

Chan brushed his thumb over Felix’s cheek. “Anything for you, angel.”

Felix’s heart clenched painfully, his smile wavering for just a second. He kissed Chan again before the demon could notice, whispering against his lips, “I love you.”

And he meant it—so fiercely, so completely—that the thought of tomorrow nearly shattered him. But for tonight, he pretended. For tonight, they had this.

______________________________________

Felix and Chan stood close, their bodies almost touching, the air between them thick with unspoken desire. The angel’s blue eyes locked onto the demon’s dark brown gaze, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. The tension was palpable, a charged silence that spoke volumes of the longing they both tried to hide. Felix’s delicate wings, usually so poised and graceful, fluttered slightly, as if responding to the heat emanating from Chan’s muscular frame.

Their hands moved as if guided by an unseen force, fingers trembling as they reached for each other. Felix’s slender digits brushed against Chan’s chest, the demon’s skin warm and firm beneath the fabric of his shirt. Chan mirrored the motion, his larger hands gently unbuttoning Felix’s blouse, each touch sending a spark of electricity through the angel’s body. The buttons gave way one by one, revealing the soft, pale skin of Felix’s torso and the faint shimmer of his wings, which glowed faintly in the firelight.

Chan’s breath hitched as he took in the sight, his fingers tracing the curve of Felix’s shoulder before sliding down to the base of their wings. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice rough with awe. 

Felix shivered at the words, his lips parting slightly as they leaned in, their bodies pressing closer. Chan’s shirt was next, his broad chest and defined abs exposed as Felix’s hands worked swiftly, his fingers brushing against the demon’s skin with deliberate slowness.

As the shirts fell away, they pulled each other into a deep, hungry kiss. Lips moved in perfect sync, tongues tangling as they savored the taste of each other. Felix’s hands slid down Chan’s back, nails scraping gently against his skin, while Chan’s fingers tangled in the angel’s blonde hair, holding them close. The kiss was fierce, desperate, as if they were trying to consume each other whole.

Their hands moved downward, unfastening belts and zippers with practiced ease. Pants and underwear slid to the floor, pooling at their feet, leaving them both bare. Felix’s dual anatomy was fully exposed—his cock already hardening, and his pussy glistening with anticipation. Chan’s thick, erect cock stood proudly, veins throbbing with need. The angel’s breath hitched as Chan’s fingers traced the curves of their body, teasing the sensitive skin around his pussy and cock. 

“You’re so perfect,” Chan growled, his voice low and hungry.

Felix moaned softly, his head tilting back, inviting Chan to kiss and nibble along his neck. The demon’s lips left a trail of fiery marks, his teeth grazing the tender skin as Felix’s wings twitched in response. 

“Chan… please,” the angel whispered, his voice trembling with desire.

Without another word, he sank to his knees, their bodies still pressed close. Felix gently took Chan’s cock into his mouth, his lips wrapping around the head as his tongue swirled in worship. Chan’s hands tangled in the angel’s hair, guiding the rhythm as his hips thrust slightly, his breath coming in sharp gasps. 

“Fuck, Felix… you’re incredible,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.

The angel’s moans vibrated around Chan’s shaft, their eyes fluttering closed as he savored the taste of him. But Chan wasn’t ready to let this go on for too long. 

“Not yet,” he murmured, pulling away gently. “I want more of you.”

Felix’s eyes widened as Chan urged them to lie back on the soft rug before the fireplace. The demon’s mouth descended, kissing and licking along Felix’s body, his tongue tracing patterns that made the angel squirm and arch. Chan’s lips teased his cock, his breath ghosting over his pussy, driving Felix wild with anticipation. 

“Please… Chan, I need you,” the angel pleaded, his voice raw with need.

Chan smirked, his eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself between Felix’s legs. His cock aligned with the angel’s waiting entrance, and with a slow, steady thrust, he entered, filling him completely. Felix cried out, his body arching off the rug as Chan’s cock slid deep within him. 

“You feel so good,” Chan growled, his hands gripping Felix’s hips as he began to move, his hips snapping in a primal rhythm.

The angel’s wings spread wide, his body trembling with each thrust. “Chan… harder,” Felix panted, his nails digging into the demon’s shoulders. 

Chan obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, his cock pounding into Felix with relentless force. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion—moans, gasps, and the wet slap of skin against skin.

They fucked in a frenzy, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. Chan bent Felix over a nearby chair, the angel’s wings spread wide as he took him from behind, his hands gripping his hips tightly. “You’re mine, Felix,” Chan growled, his voice a possessive rumble. 

“Always,” the angel replied, his voice breathless.

Next, Chan lay on his back, Felix straddling his cock, his body rising and falling with abandon. The angel’s hands braced against Chan’s chest as he rode him, his pussy clenching around Chan’s cock, his cock leaking pre-cum as they moved. 

“You feel so good inside me, my demon,” Felix moaned, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

Finally, Chan lifted Felix against the wall, the angel’s legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust deeply, their bodies slick with sweat. The fireplace crackled louder, its glow intensifying as their passion reached its peak. 

“I love you, Chan,” Felix gasped, his voice thick with emotion. 

“And I love you,” Chan replied, his lips brushing the angel’s ear, his thrusts becoming frantic.

As they climaxed, their bodies moved as one, the room seeming to glow brighter, the fire crackling in celebration. Felix’s pussy tightened around Chan’s cock, milking him as they came, their essences mingling in a perfect union. The angel’s cock pulsed, spilling ropes of cum onto Chan’s chest, while the demon’s cum filled him, warm and thick.

In the aftermath, they lay together, their bodies still joined, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Felix’s fingers traced the contours of Chan’s face, their eyes locked in a deep, loving gaze. “I love you,” the angel whispered, his voice soft but steady. 

Chan smiled, a rare, genuine expression, and kissed Felix’s forehead. “You are my life, butterfly,” the demon replied, his voice rough with emotion.

As they lay there, the fire’s embers glowing, the woods outside silent, the moment lingered, a testament to the beauty and intensity of their love. A love that transcended their celestial differences, a love that burned as brightly as the fire that warmed them. In that cozy cabin, surrounded by the quiet of the night, their bond was unbreakable, a beacon of light in the darkness, a union of angel and demon that defied all odds.

Chapter Text

The morning sun slipped in through the tall windows, casting golden light across the shared chamber. They returned to their room, the night before, from their small cabin after their romantic dinner and sexual cardio session. For Felix, it felt nothing like a new day. His chest was tight, his stomach twisted, and his feet refused to be still. He paced from one end of the room to the other, hands clasping and unclasping nervously.

Chan watched him from the edge of the bed, his expression almost… serene. His calmness only made Felix’s anxiety sharper. Didn’t he know what was coming? Didn’t he feel the weight of it?

“Felix.”

Chan’s voice was firm, grounding. He stood, closing the distance between them, and took Felix’s restless hands into his own. Their fingers interlocked, Chan’s warmth steady against Felix’s trembling palms.

Felix’s throat tightened. He swallowed hard before whispering, “What if we just… ran away? If we didn’t show up to the trial—what would happen then?”

Chan searched his face for a long moment, his expression softening. Then he shook his head, voice steady but low.
“If we escape, everyone will know why. Everyone will see it’s because we fell in love. An angel and a demon running together—it would be the spark that ignites everything. Both kingdoms would declare war immediately. And when they caught us, they wouldn’t just punish us, Felix. They’d kill us for daring to love each other.”

Felix’s lips parted, his breath catching, but he couldn’t form words. Chan squeezed his hands tighter, grounding him again.

“The only choice,” Chan continued, “is to face today. We win the trial. The Forest King chooses his ally. And then? Both kingdoms will spend months preparing for the war. Months, Felix. That’s our window. Time for us to plan, to disappear, to find somewhere we can live without rushing, without fear.”

Felix’s chest ached. His lips trembled as he finally nodded. Chan leaned in, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his lips—quick, soft, but full of promise.

“I love you,” Felix whispered desperately, clutching at Chan’s shirt as if he might slip away at any moment. “More than anything. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Chan cupped his face, his eyes steady and shining with something fierce. “Never. Not if you promise you’ll remember, too—remember how much I love you. Always.”

Felix nodded, eyes stinging. He buried himself in Chan’s arms, holding on as tightly as he could, his breath shuddering against the demon’s chest. He didn’t want to let go. Not today. Not ever.

A sudden knock at the door shattered the fragile moment.

Chan didn’t move at first, but then he called out, voice steady, “Come in.”

The door opened, and their friends—angels and demons alike—filed into the room. Every single one of them looked exhausted, dark circles under their eyes, shoulders heavy with fatigue.

Felix blinked at them, his nerves doubling. He hadn’t expected this—this weight, this weariness etched into their faces. They had spent hours and hours searching for the book that never appeared.

Chan, oblivious, turned to the group with a bright smile, his dimples cutting deep into his cheeks. “So? Is it time?”

Changbin nodded, his jaw tight. “It’s time. We need to head down to the forest now.”

Chan clapped Felix lightly on the shoulder, grinning as if this were just another day, another challenge to conquer. “Then let’s go. It’s just another trial, right? Like the troll. And we handled that just fine. With Felix by my side, we can take anything.”

Felix forced himself to mirror the smile, though his lips felt heavy, his chest hollow. Felix’s gaze darted to I.N., but the younger angel avoided his eyes at first. Then, slowly, I.N. lifted his gaze. His expression was full of something that twisted Felix’s heart—pity. Felix’s throat constricted, but he gave the smallest nod, just enough for I.N. to understand. Don’t say anything. Not here. Not now.

The others exchanged glances, none of them returning Chan’s confidence. Still, one by one, they offered words of encouragement.

“Good luck.”
“You’ll need it.”
“We’re with you.”

Felix swallowed the lump in his throat, fingers brushing against Chan’s as they moved toward the door. This was it. The morning of the trial. The morning everything would change.

_____________________________

The air in the forest was sharp with tension. Felix’s boots sank slightly into the moss as he followed his brothers-in-arms, the other angels, toward the wide clearing where the trial would take place. Every step felt heavier, as though his body knew what his mind already feared.

On the opposite side of the clearing, across a span of green that seemed far too vast yet far too small, Chan walked beside the demons. His posture was strong, his face unreadable—every inch the proud heir of the underworld.

To anyone watching, they were nothing but rivals. Enemies. Heirs of two warring worlds about to clash for power and survival.
No glance.
No touch.
No whisper of affection.

Yet when Felix’s eyes betrayed him—lifting, searching, finding Chan across the open field—their gazes locked for the briefest heartbeat. His chest squeezed. Chan’s shoulders tensed. Just as quickly, they both looked away. To look for longer, to show anything, would be a death sentence.

Then Felix froze. His breath caught painfully in his throat.

The stands that circled the clearing, crafted from entwined branches and woven vines, were filling with nobles. Angels robed in white and gold. Demons cloaked in black and crimson. The highest families of both realms had come.

And then—Felix’s knees nearly buckled. On the left, seated in thrones made of blackened wood and bone, were the King and Queen of the underworld—Chan’s parents. On the right, clothed in radiant light and silver crowns, sat the rulers of heaven—Felix’s own mother and father.

Chan’s face went pale. His jaw tightened as his hands curled into fists at his sides. What are they doing here? he thought, panic sparking in his chest. This is supposed to be just a trial. A competition. Why—

Felix knew. Oh, he knew exactly why.

Because today was not just a trial. Today, the Forest King would make his choice—heaven or hell. One kingdom would leave with the Forest’s allegiance. And the other… the other might leave with the lifeless body of a son.

He swallowed hard, bile rising in his throat. His gaze flickered to Chan for a fleeting second, but he didn’t dare hold it. The air shifted. From the heart of the clearing, the Forest King emerged—towering, ancient, his presence carrying the weight of centuries. His voice boomed like thunder through the trees.

“You will have five minutes with your parents before the trial begins,” he declared.

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the gathered companions—the angels and demons who had come alongside the heirs. They were escorted to the stands, leaving Felix and Chan standing alone, each before their family.

The rulers of heaven and hell exchanged venomous looks, dripping with disgust and superiority, as though even sharing the same air was unbearable.

Chan’s throat closed as his parents approached him. His father’s eyes gleamed with pride and cruelty; his mother’s expression sharp, unforgiving.

“You see that rotting moth over there?” his father sneered, chin jerking toward Felix. “If it comes to it, you kill him. Do you hear me? That’s what weak things are for. To be crushed.”

Chan’s chest constricted, his breath hitching.

“Don’t fail us, son,” his mother added coldly. “I know you won’t. I raised you to be ruthless. To claim victory. To bring the Forest King to his knees and secure our throne.”

Chan swallowed, forcing his voice steady. “I’ll… do everything I can.”

“Not everything you can,” his father snapped, stepping closer, his tone like a lash. “You will do whatever it takes. If you lose, if you fail, you are no son of mine. No future king. You will be nothing.”

The words sliced deep, but Chan only bowed his head, silent.

On the other side, Felix stood stiff as his mother cupped his face, kissing his cheeks, her touch frantic yet hopeful.

“You must give everything, Felix. Everything.” Her voice trembled, but her eyes were fierce.

Then came his father, towering and hard. His hands gripped Felix’s shoulders with iron strength.

“You must fight with all you have. That demon”—his eyes burned across the field to Chan—“is a monster. Heartless. Soulless. Do not hesitate. Strike first, strike hard, and end him.”

“I’ll try,” Felix whispered, voice weak.

His father’s grip tightened until it hurt. “Trying is not enough. You are the future king of heaven. If you lose to that devil spawn, we are finished. Do you understand? The Forest’s army doubles both of ours combined. If they side with the underworld, heaven will burn. Do you want to watch your people—your home—turned to ash?”

Felix’s breath shook. He swallowed hard, fighting the tremor in his lips, and shook his head. “No.”

“No,” his father repeated firmly. “Then fight like it. Prove you are my son.”

Felix’s heart ached. He wanted to scream. He didn’t want war. Didn’t want fire or blood. All he wanted was peace. All he wanted was—Chan.

His eyes flicked toward him. And across the field, Chan’s eyes lifted too. Their gazes met, quick, fleeting, a stolen moment that spoke louder than any words.

The Forest King returned, his massive form stepping between them, his voice shaking the ground.

“The time is over. The trial begins.”

____________________________________

The Forest King stepped forward, his massive frame casting a long shadow between the two princes. His eyes lingered on each of them with something that almost resembled pity. His voice, low and resonant, carried through the silent clearing.

“Today,” he said, “everything will be decided.”

Chan tilted his head, his jaw tightening. “And are you going to tell us what the trial is, or do we have to guess?”

The King didn’t answer at first. Instead, he lifted his hands slowly toward the sky. Power surged, a force so raw it made the very ground tremble. Light and shadow spiraled between his palms, twisting until the energy condensed into a violent, swirling mass. Then, with a flick of his wrists, he hurled it toward the princes.

Felix gasped. Chan’s eyes widened. Before either could move, the force struck them—

—and they were gone.

The world reassembled in a rush of choking air. Both princes stumbled onto damp ground, a suffocating heaviness pressing on their chests. Around them, walls of twisting hedges rose high, thick with vines and thorns. The air itself felt almost solid, as though filled with smoke that dulled the light, leaving everything gray and lifeless. It was no sunlit morning—more like a day forever trapped under clouds.

Felix’s wide eyes met Chan’s across the mist. His lips trembled. Then the King’s voice thundered from above, echoing through the maze as though carried by invisible horns.

“You stand inside a living maze,” the voice declared. “A maze that shifts, bends, and defies escape. Within its walls dwell the deadliest creatures of the forest—beasts feared across all realms. You will face them. You will endure them. And only then will one of you find the way out.”

Chan raised a brow, forcing a smirk. “So what? Dodge a few woodland little animals in front of my parents’ eyes and run for the exit? That’s it? Sounds easy enough.”

But Felix’s throat closed, his eyes burning with tears he barely contained.

The King’s voice sharpened. “You misunderstand. None outside these walls will see what unfolds within. To the kingdoms, only the victor will return, standing once more at the center of the clearing.”

Chan frowned, the sarcasm slipping from his expression.

The voice deepened, rumbling like a storm. “But the maze does not yield to two victors. It cannot. It is bound by enchantment—only one may leave alive. The other must die.”

Chan barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “What? That’s insane. You’re joking, right? That’s your big trial?”

But when he looked at Felix—Felix’s head was bowed, shoulders trembling. A chill spread through Chan’s chest.

The voice pressed on, merciless. “This is no jest. When the beasts have been slain and the magic endured, you two must face each other. Only one may kill the other, and only then will the victor be freed. That is the law of the maze.”

Chan’s smirk vanished entirely. His body tensed, fists clenching. “Bullshit!” he roared up at the gray sky. “I’m not killing anyone. I’m sure as hell not killing him!”

The King’s voice did not waver. “Then you will remain. No water. No food. No shelter. The maze will hold you until one of you surrenders to death—by hunger, by thirst, by madness. You may fight it for days, for weeks, for eternity if you wish. But the outcome will be the same. Only one leaves. The sooner you accept it, the sooner this ends….”

Felix’s heart shattered at every word.

“You may use what you will—wings, spells, fire, steel. There are no restrictions. Except this: the maze will not open until one of you lies dead… We, from this realm, won't be able to see what's happening inside the maze. We'll only know who won when your bodies appear here again. One alive, one dead.”

Silence fell, heavy as stone. Then the voice spoke one final time.

“This is the last time I will address you until the victor returns. May fate favor the strong. Goodbye.”

Chan’s breath came hard, ragged, as he shouted into the empty air. “FUCK YOU!!! WAIT YOUR FUCKING ASSHOLE! Don’t you dare walk away! Do you hear me?!” His voice echoed, fading into nothing.

And then it was just them.

Chan’s heart slammed painfully against his ribs. “Why?” His voice broke into a growl. “Why the fuck aren’t you surprised?” He stepped forward, eyes blazing. “You knew. You fucking knew something, didn’t you?”

Felix’s lips parted, guilt twisting his face. “Chan, I—”

“You knew,” Chan snarled, grabbing Felix’s arm and forcing him to meet his eyes. His voice was venom, trembling with hurt. “You knew and you didn’t tell me? You kept it from me—ME—the person who would burn the whole world just to keep you safe?!”

Felix choked on a sob. “I’m sorry… I thought maybe—maybe there was another way—”

Chan’s jaw clenched so tight it ached. Betrayal, raw and deep, bled from his eyes. He shoved Felix back a step, his voice cracking with fury. “Do you have any idea how it feels? To find out the love of my life—my only fucking reason for breathing—didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth?”

Felix’s tears fell harder. “I didn’t want you to—”

Chan cut him off, slamming his fist against the hedge wall, making vines shudder. “Don’t you get it? I’d rather suffer with you than live blind like this!” His voice shook, harsh and broken. “You betrayed me, Felix. And it fucking kills me because even now—”

He stepped forward, gripping Felix’s face between his hands, his own eyes wet with rage and love all at once. His voice dropped to a ragged whisper. “—even now, I still love you more than anything. And I swear on everything in this cursed maze, I will never hurt you. Not even if it means I die here.”

Felix’s chest caved, sobbing as he pressed his forehead against Chan’s, trembling in his hold. “I am going to let you kill me,” he whispered. “I am ready to give you my life.”

Chan’s breath shattered against his lips, furious and desperate. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare say that to me.” He shook his head, his voice breaking. “I will never kill you. Never. They’ll have to tear us both apart first.”

Felix’s tears blurred his vision, his chest aching with guilt and love all at once. Before he could answer, the ground trembled beneath their feet. A low hiss filled the thick air.

From the mist, stone cracked and shifted. A massive shape emerged—serpentine, coiled, its body forged of stone and moss, its eyes glowing like burning coals. A monstrous serpent, larger than any castle tower, slid across the maze floor. Its hiss split the silence, fangs glinting as it reared its head high above them. Both princes turned, frozen. The serpent struck forward.

The serpent lunged, its body tearing through the maze wall like paper, leaves and stone exploding outward. Chan grabbed Felix’s wrist and yanked him sideways, both of them hitting the ground hard as the creature’s massive jaws snapped where they had stood a heartbeat before. The impact of its strike shook the earth, scattering dust into the suffocating haze.

“Run!” Chan barked, pulling Felix to his feet.

They sprinted down a twisting corridor, the serpent’s monstrous body slamming behind them, its coils tearing the maze apart as though the walls were nothing more than grass. The ground shook with every impact, hedges collapsing as the beast forced its way through.

Felix’s breath tore out of him. “It’s— it’s not stopping!”

“No shit!” Chan snapped back, his voice sharp with adrenaline. He tugged Felix closer when a boulder-sized coil crashed down, cutting their path. 

Behind them, the serpent’s hiss rattled the very walls, a low rumble that seemed to vibrate in their bones. They skidded around a jagged corner, dust flying as stone cracked beneath their boots. The serpent lunged, its moss-coated head smashing through the wall behind them, debris exploding around their bodies. They tumbled, rolled, and came up gasping.

“Fuck, angel, you’re bleeding,” Chan hissed, catching Felix’s chin, brushing away the smear of red.

Felix let out a broken laugh despite the chaos, his lips stained crimson. “You always wanted me on my knees, didn’t you?”

Chan gawked at him, incredulous. “Now’s really the fucking time for jokes?”

Felix grinned through bloodied teeth, though it looked more like a grimace. “Keeps me from screaming.”

The serpent’s tail whipped overhead, sending chunks of stone raining down. Chan threw himself over Felix, shielding him with his body, wings straining as the impact shook the earth.

“Stay down,” Chan barked, chest pressed to Felix’s.

The serpent reared again, scales grinding like stone on stone, its eyes glowing with unnatural hunger. Felix’s breath stuttered in his chest. Something flared inside him—fear, rage, love, all tangled together—and his hand lifted instinctively.

Light burst from his palm. Golden, blinding, sharp as fire. It slammed straight into the serpent’s face. The creature reeled back with a deafening screech, smoke rising from the socket where the light had seared its eye.

Felix staggered, staring at his trembling hand. “What was that? I—I didn’t know I—”

Chan’s head snapped to him, eyes wide. “Holy shit, angel.” Then his lips curved, wild with adrenaline. “Hot.”

Felix barked a laugh that was half panic, half awe. “Shut the fuck up!”

“Love you, butterfly with powers,” Chan said, suddenly fire were sparking across his own knuckles. He stared down at the flames licking at his skin like they’d been waiting for him. His throat tightened. “What the hell—”

The serpent lunged again, blinded but furious, its hiss splitting the air. Felix noticed something,

Felix grabbed Chan’s wrist, voice breaking. “Its eyes! Chan, its eyes— that’s the weak spot!”

The monster’s maw gaped, teeth like jagged boulders.

Chan dove low, shoving Felix aside roughly. “Aim when I give you the opening. Don’t miss.”

Felix’s heart hammered, his hands shaking violently as he pulled the light together again, the glow near-blinding in the gloom. “I won’t.”

Chan’s jaw clenched. “You’d better not. Because if you die on me, I swear I’ll drag you back just to kill you myself.”

Felix smirked faintly, lips trembling. “Sounds romantic.”

“Shut up and let’s work.”

Chan surged forward, flames bursting from his fists. With a roar, he slammed them into the serpent’s jaw, forcing it upward, away from Felix. The creature shrieked, snapping blindly. Its tail swung wildly, shattering stone walls and sending rubble crashing around them.

Felix gathered every ounce of his will, sweat dripping down his temple as golden light condensed into a searing sphere. His arms shook, teeth gritted as his chest screamed from the effort. The serpent’s single good eye locked on Chan, hatred burning like coal.

Chan barely dodged its strike, wings scraping stone as he leapt aside. “NOW, FELIX!”

Felix screamed, thrusting the light forward with everything he had. The blast speared into the serpent’s remaining eye. The creature shrieked in agony, thrashing violently, coils smashing into walls and ground. Chan was thrown, crashing hard into the dirt, wings folding instinctively.

“CHAN!” Felix cried out, stumbling forward— but the serpent wasn’t done. Its blinded rage sent its tail whipping forward, aiming straight for Felix.

Chan forced himself up, every muscle screaming. “MOVE!” he roared, launching himself across the ground. He tackled Felix just as the tail slammed into the earth, a breath from crushing him.

They hit the dirt, tangled together, Felix clutching Chan’s shoulders desperately.

The serpent was still thrashing, but its movements were sluggish now. Smoke rose from its cracked eyes, golden light still burning inside.

Felix gasped, chest heaving. “It’s— it’s not dead yet.”

Chan groaned, pushing himself to his knees, fire sparking weakly around his hands. “Then let’s finish the bastard.”

They staggered to their feet, both swaying, but neither letting go of the other. The serpent coiled, writhing in pain but far from beaten. Its body smashed through another wall of the maze, turning corridors into rubble. Dust clouded the air, choking them as the ground trembled.

Felix coughed, leaning against Chan. “It’s too strong. We can’t—”

“Bullshit.” Chan’s voice was rough, feral. “We’re not losing here. Not to this thing. Not to anyone.”

“Chan—”

“Listen to me,” he snapped, dragging Felix closer, their foreheads almost touching. “We kill it together, or it kills us both. You hear me? No one dies alone. Not you. Not me.”

Felix’s eyes burned, tears mixing with blood and dirt. “Always together,” he whispered.

But the serpent had one last trick. Its coils surged upward, wrapping around them both this time. They were crushed together, back to chest, the serpent squeezing with merciless force. Their wings bent painfully, air ripped from their lungs.

Felix’s scream was muffled against Chan’s shoulder. “It’s—it’s crushing me—”

“I’ve got you,” Chan rasped, even as his ribs cracked under the pressure. He turned his head enough to meet Felix’s eyes. “Look at me. LOOK at me.”

Felix’s tears burned hot as they streaked his bloodied cheeks.

“We do this together,” Chan snarled, fire erupting wildly around his arms. “Your light. My fire. Merge them. Now.”

Felix trembled, choking. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you fucking can!” Chan snapped, pressing their foreheads together despite the crushing coils. “Think of everything you hate. Think of everything you love. And pour it into me. Into us.”

Felix’s body convulsed. His hands glowed, golden light surging brighter than ever before. Chan roared, fire engulfing him. The two forces met, colliding, and for a heartbeat—it felt like the world itself split apart. Their powers fused. A blinding eruption of fire and light exploded outward, searing through the serpent’s body.

The creature writhed, shrieking so loud the maze itself seemed to shake. Its coils slammed into the walls, breaking stone into dust. Chan grabbed Felix’s arm, dragging him away as the monster’s body collapsed, thrashing in death throes. They sprinted, wings flaring, hearts hammering, until the sound of the serpent’s last, echoing cry faded into silence. Only the sound of their ragged breathing remained. Chan finally collapsed against a broken wall, dragging Felix into his lap, arms shaking as he cradled him.

“Holy… fuck…” Chan gasped, fire still glowing faintly around his fingers. “We… we did it.”

Felix pressed his face into Chan’s chest, trembling. His hands were still faintly glowing, golden sparks flickering like dying stars. “Chan… I didn’t know… I could…”

Chan pressed his lips to Felix’s hair, clutching him tightly. “Neither did I.”

Felix laughed weakly, broken but real. “Guess we make a pretty good team.”

Chan smirked, voice hoarse. “Pretty? Angel, we’re fucking unstoppable.”

Felix lifted his head, eyes wet but shining. “Together?”

“Always.”

The maze around them shifted suddenly, walls groaning, corridors collapsing into new shapes.

Chapter Text

For fifteen minutes, silence.

The maze hadn’t shifted, the walls of stone and mist holding steady. The only sound was the ragged rasp of their breathing. Chan sat with his back against the cold wall, one wing draped protectively around Felix, who leaned against him. Their bodies were shaking—whether from exhaustion, pain, or fear, neither knew. It felt wrong, the quiet.

Chan tilted his head back, closing his eyes. “If this is the gods giving us a coffee break, I’d like a damn latte with extra sugar.”

Felix gave a broken laugh, his voice raw. “You’re delirious.”

“Maybe,” Chan said, cracking one eye open to glance at him. His angel looked pale, lips split, hair matted with blood and sweat. And still he was unfairly beautiful. “But if I’m losing my mind, at least I’ve got you in my hallucination.”

Felix rolled his eyes weakly, but his fingers curled tighter in Chan’s shirt. The ground shuddered.

Felix froze. “Please… no…”

It wasn’t sound at first. It was absence. The maze dimmed, shadows crawling over the stone, smothering what little light flickered from cracks above. The air grew heavier, pressing on Chan’s chest until every breath scraped.

“Felix.” His voice was sharp, warning.

Felix turned toward him, and froze. His lips parted, his pupils dilated. Chan followed his gaze—

A shadow stood at the end of the corridor. No… not stood. Floated. Its shape wasn’t a shape at all, shifting and twisting, edges fraying into mist. It had no face, only two pits of void where eyes should burn. The darkness around it pulsed, devouring even the glow of Chan’s fire.

“Are you kidding me?” Chan spat, dragging Felix closer to him. “Already? We just killed a goddamn snake!”

The shadow moved forward without sound, without weight—just there, closer, closer. Felix stiffened, his body trembling once. His breath hitched—and then, suddenly, stopped.

“Lix?” Chan shook him.

Felix’s golden glow seeped out of him in threads, tugged from his chest like smoke drawn into the specter’s void. His eyes glazed, his mouth slack. His body sagged in Chan’s arms, limp.

“No. No, no, no.” Panic ripped through Chan’s veins. He slapped Felix’s cheek, hard. “Stay with me! Don’t you fucking leave me like this!”

Nothing. The shadow fed, Felix’s light bleeding into its formless mass. His glow dimmed with every heartbeat, until he was pale and translucent, as if fading out of existence.

Chan’s scream tore from his throat, primal. He thrust fire at the monster—an inferno born of sheer terror and rage. The flames burst bright, then sputtered, sucked into the creature’s black form as if consumed. The thing didn’t even flinch.

Chan staggered back, holding Felix tighter, wings flaring wide in defense. “Fuck! Felix, wake up! You hear me? You’re not leaving me here!”

Felix’s head lolled, lifeless against his shoulder. The golden threads kept streaming into the shadow’s maw. His soul was being stolen—piece by piece. Chan’s knees buckled. His fire flickered, weak. He dropped to the ground, clutching Felix with both arms, rocking him. His forehead pressed to Felix’s, desperation raw.

“I love you.” His voice cracked, breaking open. “I love you more than the world, more than life. You’re mine, angel, mine. You can’t let this thing take you—I won’t let it. Please, please, come back to me.”

Nothing. Felix was gone. The shadow surged forward, tendrils of black curling like claws. Chan snarled, throwing up fire with one hand while shielding Felix with his wings. The flames barely slowed it, and every blast drained Chan’s strength until his vision blurred.

He tried shaking him again, screaming his name until his throat tore. He tried clutching him so tightly his knuckles split. Still, no response. Felix’s glow was almost gone. Only faint wisps clung to him, and Chan knew—if those vanished, he’d die.

“Fuck this.” Chan’s tears streaked dirty down his cheeks. His lips found Felix’s, desperate, crushing. At first they were ice—cold, unresponsive. Like kissing death.

But Chan poured everything into it—fire, fury, love, his entire soul. He whispered against him, hoarse. “I love you, my butterfly… Come back to me.”

For one agonizing moment, nothing. Then—Felix’s chest convulsed. His lips twitched under Chan’s, faint warmth blooming. The golden threads stuttered. Chan kissed him harder, pulling him back with sheer will. Felix’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused, dazed—but alive. He gasped, air rushing into his lungs.

Chan pulled back just enough to see, laughter breaking through his tears. “Well, shit. Guess I really am the love of your life. My kisses beat death itself.”

Felix coughed, voice broken. “That’s… so…. Chee…sy.”

“Cheesy, but effective,” Chan shot back, grinning through the chaos. “Don’t scare me like that again, angel, or I’ll chain you to me.”

The shadow shrieked, the first sound it made—a scream so sharp it rattled stone. It lunged, furious.

Felix’s trembling hand slid over Chan’s, golden light flickering weak but alive. His gaze steadied. Then, he looked to the monster in front of them.“…Together…”

Chan’s throat bobbed. He squeezed back. “Together.”

The monster struck. Chan thrust fire forward. Felix pushed light into him. Their powers merged—searing brilliance, not fire, not gold, but something sharper, brighter, holy.

The shadow recoiled, shrieking, smoke tearing off its body.

“Harder!” Chan yelled, forcing every scrap of fury into the blaze. His body screamed, skin blistering from his own fire.

Felix pressed closer, chest against his, voice raw. “I’m with you!”

The brilliance roared out, exploding down the corridor. The shadow howled, unraveling, its void-face split wide. It thrashed, the ground cracking as it clawed to resist, dragging stone with it.

It slammed a tendril across Chan’s ribs, throwing him into the wall with bone-crunching force. Stars burst in his vision. Felix screamed his name.

“Still alive!” Chan coughed blood, dragging himself up, staggering back to him. “Not dead yet. Not planning to be!”

The shadow reeled back for another strike. Felix lifted his hands, golden light sputtering, barely holding.

Chan grabbed him, pulling their hands together, forcing the flames to merge again. “Don’t let go, angel. Not until it’s gone.”

They unleashed everything. The light seared like a sun, filling the corridor. The shadow screamed, high and piercing, its body tearing apart, collapsing into the floor in shards of black mist.

It sank with a final shriek, swallowed into the earth. Silence. The glow guttered from their hands. Both of them collapsed to their knees, gasping.

Felix slumped against him, forehead pressed to his shoulder, shuddering. “We… actually did it.”

Chan laughed, half-sob, half-wheeze, kissing his hair. “We fucking did it. Guess love really does conquer all.”

Felix huffed a weak laugh, lips curving. “Cheesy demon.”

Chan tilted his chin up, forcing his gaze. His grin softened. “Told you. Only my kisses can bring you back.”

Felix’s hand trembled as it slid up Chan’s chest. His voice was barely there. “Then don’t stop kissing me.”

Chan’s grin widened, cocky even as tears streaked his face. “Careful, angel. I’ll hold you to that.”

And he kissed him again—slower, sweeter, though the fire burned just as bright.

_________________________________

The air was still heavy with the echo of the specter’s shriek, the silence after its death almost unbearable. Chan and Felix clung to each other on the cracked stone floor, their lips brushing in trembling kisses that were equal parts relief and desperation. The taste of dust and blood mingled with the sweetness of love, their mouths moving as though if they just kept kissing, they could convince themselves none of this was real.

Chan pulled back slightly, his chest still heaving. His thumb grazed the damp skin of Felix’s cheek, leaving a streak of ash behind. His voice was low, soft, hesitant.

“Felix… about before…”

Felix’s heart skipped. He leaned closer, eyes wide and searching. “Before?”

Chan swallowed, his jaw flexing, as though he wanted to sound angry but couldn’t—not with Felix trembling in his arms. “That’s why you were so nervous…You knew about this trial. About what it meant.”

Felix lowered his gaze, lashes trembling. For a moment, the words tangled in his throat. He wanted to lie, to tell Chan he hadn’t known—but love wouldn’t let him. His voice cracked as he whispered:

“I overheard the Forest King speaking with his nobles. He said the trial would be in a maze… and that only one of us would make it out alive.”

Chan’s lips parted, his breath stuttering as though struck. He wanted to shout, to rage at the cruelty of it—but Felix’s eyes were already glassy, shimmering with guilt and love. And Chan couldn’t bring himself to pour his fury onto him.

Instead, Chan exhaled slowly, forehead pressing against Felix’s. His words came out rough, but tender. “You should’ve told me.”

Felix shook his head, frantic. “I couldn’t. If you’d known, you would’ve gone after the King. You would’ve torn this whole place apart, and then what? We’d both be dead before even stepping into the maze. I had to protect you, Chan.” His voice broke. “Even if it meant lying.”

Chan closed his eyes, inhaling sharply through his nose, fighting back the ache in his chest. “Gods, angel… you drive me insane.” A shaky laugh, broken with pain, slipped from his lips. “I’m still angry. But I’m more in love with you than I’ve ever been in my life. I can’t hate you. Not even if I tried.”

Felix let out a shaky breath of relief, burying his face against Chan’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of smoke and warmth. His arms tightened around him like he might dissolve if he let go.

“I love you,” Felix whispered fiercely. “More than my life. More than heaven itself. Nothing matters but you.”

And even as he said it, his hand slipped to his pocket. His fingers brushed the cold glass outline of a small vial—his secret. His plan. If it came to it, if the maze forced them into that final choice, Felix already knew what he would do. And Chan would never know. He couldn’t know.

Chan’s arms wrapped tighter, as if sensing Felix’s hidden thoughts. He pressed a kiss into Felix’s hair. “Then we survive this. Together. No matter what.”

Felix forced a smile, his heart aching. “Together.”

They moved on, step by weary step, hand in hand. But the ground beneath them quaked again, sharp and violent. Felix stumbled, and Chan yanked him close, wings flaring instinctively as stone split and cracked.

“Not again,” Chan growled, pulling Felix back.

The sound grew louder, like the earth itself was screaming. And then—before either could react—stone erupted upward, forming a jagged wall between them.

“Felix!” Chan shouted, clutching his hand tight.

Felix’s wings flared wide as he dug his heels into the ground, straining against the force pulling them apart. “Chan, don’t let go!”

“I won’t!” Chan’s grip tightened until his knuckles blanched. His eyes were wild, desperate. “Never, angel, never—”

The wall grew higher, darker, impenetrable. Their arms strained, muscles burning as their palms pressed together with everything they had.

But the stone kept rising. Their fingers slid, palms sweating, every tendon stretched to its limit. Felix’s blue eyes shimmered with tears, locked onto Chan’s molten brown. Both of them were breathing like they were drowning, like the act of holding on was the only thing keeping them alive.

“No, no, no—” Chan snarled, wings thrashing against the impossible wall. His voice cracked, torn from his soul. “Always find me, yeah? I’ll never leave you behind, babe! Never!”

Felix’s chest seized with pain, tears streaming down his face as their hands slipped by inches. His voice was raw, breaking. “I love you! Remember that! I love you more than anything!”

Their fingertips brushed, barely there, a whisper of contact. They looked at each other for the last time.

And then—gone.

The wall surged higher with a deafening crash, slamming into place like the closing of a tomb.

Chan dropped to his knees on his side, his hand smacking against the unyielding surface. His chest heaved, his forehead pressed to the stone. “Felix!” he roared, his voice hoarse. “FUCK!! Stay safe, angel! Please—please stay safe. I’ll find you! I swear I’ll find you!” His fist pounded the wall, sparks of fire bursting futilely against the black stone.

On the other side, Felix mirrored him, palm pressed flat against the cold barrier. His tears soaked the stone as his voice cracked. “I love you, Chan. My everything.”

Their voices faded, swallowed by the labyrinth’s oppressive silence. The wall towered between them, stretching endlessly skyward, no light, no break, no chance of flight over its edge. Chan’s eyes burned, throat raw, his body shaking with rage and grief. But through it all, one thought anchored him: He would never stop searching. Never stop fighting. He would burn the whole maze down, tear it apart stone by stone if he had to—because somewhere beyond this wall, Felix was waiting.

And Felix, clutching the vial in his pocket with trembling fingers, whispered a vow through broken sobs:

“If only one of us survives… it’s going to be you.”

___________________________________

Chan ran.

He didn’t know how long—minutes, hours, maybe days—but he ran until his wings ached and his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. The maze twisted endlessly, corridors folding back on themselves, turns leading nowhere but the same suffocating fog. It was like running inside a nightmare. Every corner he took spat him back where he’d started, every breath filled his lungs with damp smoke that made his chest tighten.

But he couldn’t stop.

Felix.

That name was the only compass he had left. He pictured him—golden hair damp against his forehead, blue eyes bright even when he was teasing, lips curved in that maddening smile that made Chan want to grab him and never let go. He whispered the name under his breath like a prayer, like a curse, like the only anchor he had in this cursed place.

“Felix!” he shouted into the void, his voice hoarse. The fog swallowed the sound like it had never existed.

Still, he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Then—

A sound.

It was faint at first, a scrape like stone against stone. Chan froze, chest heaving, eyes darting through the haze. The maze was silent again, almost taunting.

He turned—too late.

The impact slammed into him like a battering ram. Something enormous, horned, drove into his chest with the force of a collapsing wall. His back struck stone, the world a blur of white-hot pain. Air fled his lungs in a choking gasp as his body was hurled several meters, slamming into the ground with a bone-cracking thud.

The taste of iron filled his mouth.

Chan coughed, blood splattering the dirt. His vision swam as he pushed himself up onto trembling elbows, and then he saw it.

The creature that had hit him stepped out of the fog like a nightmare given flesh. Half-man, half-beast, twisted beyond reason. Its torso was muscled, human-like but covered in coarse black hair, its legs bent and hooved like a goat’s. Horns spiraled from its head, wickedly sharp, still glistening with his blood. Its eyes glowed a feral yellow, full of cruel delight.

A faun.

Not the gentle woodland spirits the old tales whispered about. This was something older, corrupted. A predator built for destruction.

Chan staggered upright, clutching his chest. His ribs burned, every breath jagged and shallow. He glanced down—his shirt was soaked crimson.

The faun smiled. A grotesque parody of humanity.

“Fuck…” Chan rasped, spitting blood. “Of all the things I had to meet in this hell…”

The faun pawed the ground with a hoof, like a bull preparing to charge.

Chan braced himself, wings flaring despite the agony in his chest. “Come on, then,” he growled. “I’m not dying here. Not before I see him again.”

The faun lunged.

Chan dove sideways, barely missing the horns as they carved through the air where he’d been standing. The beast skidded, turned with frightening speed, and charged again. This time Chan tried to leap upward, wings snapping open—only for the faun to slam into him midair.

The horns drove into his chest again, and this time he screamed.

The sound ripped from him, raw and desperate, echoing down the maze. His body crashed against stone, rocks tumbling loose from the wall and pinning his arm beneath their crushing weight. Agony blazed white-hot up his side as he tried to wrench free. Nothing. The stones were immovable, pressing down with merciless finality.

“Fuck!” he roared, his voice breaking, eyes blazing with helpless rage. “FUCK!”

The faun laughed—or something close to it, a guttural noise that made Chan’s skin crawl.

Pinned, breath ragged, blood streaming from his lips, Chan watched the monster step back. It pawed the ground again, preparing for another strike. The horns gleamed.

Chan’s heart pounded. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t fight. His right arm was trapped, his chest already shredded. One more hit and—

Felix.

His thoughts clawed to him even as the faun lowered its head. He saw him so clearly it hurt—laughing, teasing, swearing under his breath in that accent that drove Chan insane. The way his eyes softened when it was just the two of them, the way he whispered “I love you” like it was the only truth that mattered.

If this was the end… at least he’d loved him.

Chan’s lips trembled. “I’m sorry, angel,” he whispered. “I wanted forever.”

________________________________

Felix staggered through the mist, each step swallowed by fog so thick it clung to his clothes. The silence was crushing, a weight pressing down on his shoulders.

“Chan!” His voice trembled, cracking. “Channie—answer me!”

Nothing. Only that suffocating quiet.

He wrapped his arms around himself, trembling. The maze had become endless fog and shadow, his footsteps muffled like he wasn’t even touching the ground. His heart thundered in his ears, loud enough he thought it might burst.

Then—The scream. It tore through the silence like a blade, echoing off invisible walls. Raw. Agonized. Chan.

Felix froze, breath punched from his lungs. His whole body shook. “No,” he whispered. “No, no, no—”

Felix’s scream tore from his throat, echoing uselessly into the choking fog. He stumbled forward, wings unfurling in panic, but the maze stretched empty in every direction. He couldn’t see him. Couldn’t feel him. Only the sound—broken, brutal—his name ripped apart in agony.

“Chan!” he screamed, louder this time, his voice cracking into sobs. “Chan, where are you? Answer me! Please!”

Felix’s heart hammered so violently he thought it might split his chest. He turned in circles, eyes darting through the shadows. Please, please, please… The fog muffled everything, but the echo of that scream—Chan’s scream—still reverberated inside him, rattling his bones.

Another cry split the silence. This one worse. Rawer. Felix’s knees nearly buckled. He clutched his chest as if he could physically hold his heart in place, stop it from shattering. That wasn’t just pain—that was mortal, unbearable pain.

He clutched at his pocket with shaking fingers. The vial. The tiny glass vial he had kept hidden, pressed flat against his thigh this entire time. He pulled it free, his breath coming in desperate gasps as he stared at the clear liquid shimmering inside.

This was it. The thing he swore he’d never let Chan know about. His last card. His final choice.

Chan’s screams echoed again, and Felix couldn’t breathe through the terror in his chest. He fumbled with the stopper, tears streaking down his face.

“I won’t let them take you,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Not you. Never you.”

The glass clicked open.

_________________________________

The faun thundered forward, hooves shaking the ground, horns aimed straight at his heart.

Chan closed his eyes. A single tear cut through the blood on his face. He waited for the final impact, for the shattering pain that would end it all. He thought of Felix’s mouth against his, and that was the last thing he wanted to remember.

He braced for the pain, for the end, for the final shattering—and waited and waited and waited…. But the blow never came.

Instead—light.

A rush of warmth. His arm jerked free as if the stones had become smoke, his body weightless, carried. Chan’s eyes snapped open— And the maze was gone.

Chan gasped. Not in pain—but in confusion. The crushing weight pinning his arm was gone. The burning agony of shattered ribs faded to a deep throb. He blinked against sudden light, staggering to his knees.

He was standing on soft earth, sunlight filtering through tall trees. The fog was gone, replaced by open air and the murmur of voices. Music drifted faintly in the distance, a low drumbeat, a cheer. He was again in the Forest Kingdom.

“What the…” he rasped, wiping blood from his mouth. His fingers shook. He looked around, disoriented, and then he saw them.

Rows upon rows of figures in the stands of the forest clearing. Nobles from the Underworld. From the Forest King’s court. All staring, all cheering, all alive with the energy of victory. His father stood tall in the front row, a savage grin splitting his face, clapping like thunder. His mother’s eyes gleamed, pride sharp as a blade. Victory. Chan staggered backward, chest heaving. No. No, no, no.

He hadn’t won. He hadn’t killed the beast. He hadn’t made it out. Unless—His heart stopped.

“Felix,” he whispered, voice breaking.

He spun wildly, eyes scouring the clearing, desperate. Then, through the haze of sound and color, he saw him. A few meters away. On the ground. Unmoving.

“LIX!”

Chan’s voice split the air, raw and desperate. He stumbled forward, falling to his knees beside him. Felix’s body lay motionless, his golden hair spread across the dirt like a halo. His chest didn’t rose. His skin was pale, too pale, lips tinged blue.

“No, no, no—” Chan’s hands shook as he cupped Felix’s face, smearing blood across porcelain skin. “Angel, please. Don’t do this to me. Not you.”

Felix didn’t stir.

Chan’s throat tightened. He pressed his forehead to Felix’s, voice trembling. “You idiot. FUCK! What did you do?”

He choked on the rest, clutching Felix against his chest, rocking him gently as if the motion alone could keep him tethered. His tears soaked Felix’s hair.

“I told you forever,” Chan whispered fiercely, voice hoarse. “I told you. You weren’t supposed to go… NEVER!!!”

Above them, the crowd roared. To them, this was victory, triumph, the proof that the Underworld had gained the Forest King’s alliance. To Chan, it was the end of his world.

For Chan… The world had gone silent. The music. The cheers. The triumph.

All of it faded into nothing when Chan’s trembling hands cradled Felix’s lifeless face against his chest. His angel’s body was still warm, but too still, too quiet, every shallow breath stolen away until there was nothing left. Chan’s heartbeat thundered violently, but no answering flutter came from the chest he pressed his ear against. Just silence. A hollow, devastating silence.

“No,” Chan whispered, his voice raw. His hands shook as he cupped Felix’s jaw, thumbs brushing frantically at his pale lips. “No, no, no. You’re not gone. You can’t—”

He bent forward, pressing his lips to Felix’s mouth, trying to breathe life into him, trying to force the universe to rewind by sheer will. Tears streamed down his cheeks, falling onto Felix’s face like shattered glass.

“Wake up, angel,” Chan begged, kissing him again, harder this time. “Please. Please don’t leave me… We promised to love each other forever….”

The stands had fallen quiet, thousands of eyes watching, disbelief rippling like a storm through the crowd. Unbelievable! The prince of the Underworld—sobbing, clinging to the body of the angel prince. His lover. His soulmate. What had been spectacle was now sacrilege. Everybody was in shock. The kings were angry and speechless. Chan didn’t care.

He kissed Felix again, softer now, desperate, murmuring against his lips, “I love you. I love you, do you hear me? So wake up. Just wake up for me. One more smile, one more laugh—don’t steal that from me. Don’t steal you from me.”

But Felix remained limp. Chan pulled back just enough to stare into his face, memorizing every curve, every freckle, every golden eyelash. His chest heaved with silent sobs until they broke free in raw, guttural cries.

“NO!” He screamed it to the sky, to the gods, to anyone cruel enough to listen. “Take me instead! TAKE ME!”

He collapsed again over Felix, clutching him tightly, rocking his body in his lap as though he were just sleeping, as though any moment he might stir. His lips found Felix’s temple, his hair, his mouth again and again, frantic kisses pressed like prayers.

“I can’t—” his voice cracked, shattering under the weight of grief. “I can’t breathe without you. Don’t you dare do this to me. Don’t you dare leave me here alone.”

Then a voice cut through. Cold. Commanding.

“Step away from my son, you filthy spawn of the abyss.”

The voice of the Sky King.

Chan’s head snapped up, bloodshot eyes blazing with hatred. His entire body curled protectively over Felix’s, arms tightening like iron.

“NO!” His roar split the air, savage and primal. “He’s mine! He’s my heart, my soul—my angel! You don’t get to take him from me, not now, not ever!”

The Sky King’s face twisted with fury, golden light blazing in his palm.

“You dare defile him further with your touch?!” He hurled the sphere of light.

It slammed into Chan’s chest like a comet, hurling him across the clearing. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, skidding across dirt and rock until his body came to rest at the boots of his father. His ribs screamed, his vision blurred, but he clawed at the earth, dragging himself back toward Felix with a feral growl.

“LIX!”

The Demon King’s shadow loomed above him, but Chan didn’t care. He tried to rise, teeth bared, wings flaring despite the agony. But his father’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, shoving him back into the ground.

“Enough.”

Chan snarled, twisting against him. “Let me go! He needs me!”

“He is dead.” The Demon King’s voice was stone.

“HE ISN’T!” Chan roared, spittle flying, blood staining his lips. Tears blurred his vision as he glared up at his father. “I felt him! He was warm, he was right there! Don’t you dare say he’s gone. Don’t you dare—”

Across the clearing, the Sky King knelt beside his son’s body, gathering Felix into his arms with reverent care. For a moment, the king’s expression faltered, grief cracking through the mask. Then he straightened, turning toward the Demon King with venom.

“Congratulations,” he spat. “You’ve won the Forest’s allegiance. May it serve you well. I, meanwhile, will bury my son.”

Chan thrashed against his father’s grip, his voice breaking. “No—NO! Give him back! Felix, please—wake up, love, tell him you’re still here!”

But Felix did not move. The Sky King cradled him closer, already turning to leave.

“Don’t you fucking dare to call him that. You killed him!!!” The king shout.

“NOOO!” Chan bellowed, his scream ragged with despair. He clawed at the dirt until his nails split and bled, dragging himself inches closer. “He’s my life! My everything! You can’t take him—you can’t—”

The Demon King’s eyes burned not with pity, but with rage.

“You shame me.” His voice was low, furious. “Groveling like a dog for a corpse. Do you know what victory you’ve brought us? The Angel Prince’s death is the greatest blessing we could have dreamed of!”

Chan froze. For a heartbeat, the words didn’t register. Then they did. And his entire soul shattered.

“SHUT UP!!!,” Chan screamed, voice shaking. His chest heaved, eyes swimming with tears. “This’s my life breaking apart..”

His father’s expression hardened.

“You dare.”

“I love him,” Chan said, louder this time, his voice cracking like thunder. His knees gave out, but he still stared defiantly into his father’s face, tears pouring freely. “Do you hear me? I love him more than the throne. More than you. More than the fucking Underworld itself. He was everything. And now he’s—” His voice broke into sobs. “He’s gone.”

The Demon King’s fury snapped. His hand lashed out. The blow cracked across Chan’s face with brutal force, sending him sprawling to the dirt. Blood filled his mouth. His vision blurred.

“You pathetic wretch.” His father loomed above him, seething. “Never again speak such filth in my presence.”

Chan tried to push himself up, his body trembling, but the strength bled out of him. His gaze blurred, fixed desperately on the retreating figure of the Sky King, Felix’s body limp in his arms, golden hair catching the light one last time.

“No…” Chan whispered, crawling weakly toward them, each movement agony. “Don’t take him. Please. Please don’t—”

But darkness closed in around him. His body gave out. The last thing he saw before unconsciousness claimed him was Felix disappearing into the distance. His angel. His soulmate.

Gone.

And the last sound he heard was his own broken voice, whispering into the void:

“I love you.”

Chapter Text

The golden gates of the Celestial Kingdom opened to silence. The procession of angels had returned from the forest, wings drooping with exhaustion, their once radiant glow dimmed by grief. At their center, the Sky King carried his son in his arms. Felix’s body hung limp, his golden hair matted, his face unnervingly still.

The queen walked beside them, her hands trembling, tears streaming openly down her face. Every angel who lined the marble streets bowed their heads, weeping for their fallen prince.

Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N. followed close, their steps heavy. None dared speak. None dared breathe too loudly. Until I.N. broke.

He stumbled forward, voice urgent. “Your Majesties—wait. He’s not—” His words caught in his throat. “Felix isn’t dead.”

The king froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned, his golden crown glinting in the pale light, eyes narrowed in fury. “What blasphemy is this?”

The queen gasped, clutching Felix tighter. “What did you say?”

“I’m telling you the truth,” I.N. insisted, desperate, tears pooling in his eyes. He looked at Felix, then back at the royal couple. “He’s not dead. I swear it. Felix and I—we planned this.”

Hyunjin and Jisung stiffened, their eyes snapping wide.

The king’s voice cracked like thunder. “Do not speak another word.” His fury was palpable, shaking the very walls of the palace hall. “How dare you stand before me, over the corpse of my son, and soil his honor with lies?”

“He’s not lying!” Jisung finally blurted, unable to hold it back.

“Silence!” the king roared. His wrath silenced the chamber instantly.

I.N. swallowed, trembling, but he refused to stop. He stepped closer, eyes glistening with determination. “Felix knew about the trial. He knew one of them had to die for the maze to open. But he couldn’t kill Chan—he couldn’t kill the one he lov—”

“ENOUGH!” the king’s roar shook the chamber, cutting I.N. down. His voice was ice and fire at once. “Never speak that barbarity in my presence again. My son—my flesh and blood—would never pollute his heart with love for a monster born of the pit.”

The words hit like blades. Hyunjin’s wings twitched. Jisung flinched. And I.N. bowed his head, choking back his protest.

The queen, however, clutched Felix closer, her voice trembling. “So… is it true? That my son… that he still lives?”

I.N. dared to lift his eyes to hers. Slowly, he nodded.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Felix drank the venom—Momentum. A potion that stills the heart, halts the breath. For three, maybe four hours. Enough to fool the forest, to fool the kings, to escape the trial alive. When the time is up, his heart will beat again. He’ll wake.”

The queen’s tears spilled over, but this time, her lips curved in relief. A sob escaped her throat as she pressed her forehead to Felix’s. “My baby… oh, my sweet boy…”

The king’s jaw clenched, but he did not stop her. He turned instead, his expression unreadable as he regarded I.N.

“You knew this… and you helped him.”

“Yes,” I.N. whispered. “Because Felix could not do what the trial demanded. He could not take Chan’s life. He—”

“DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!” The king’s shout rattled the stained glass above, cracking it in spiderweb lines. His fury was terrifying.

The queen flinched but refused to release her son. “My king,” she whispered, “our son is alive… he will wake again…”

The king’s eyes burned like molten gold. He looked down at Felix—his beautiful son, pale and still in his arms—and his expression cracked. For a brief, raw moment, grief softened him. Then resolve turned him cold again.

“Yes,” he said at last. “He will wake.”

Hyunjin and Jisung exhaled in shaky relief. I.N. closed his eyes, shoulders sagging. But the king’s next words froze the air.

“And when he does… he will remember nothing.”

The three younger angels looked up in horror.

“What—?” Hyunjin whispered.

The king’s tone was sharp, final. “I will summon a celestial healer. They will cleanse his mind, scour his brain. Every trace of that… creature… will be erased. When my son opens his eyes again, he will not remember Bang Chan. He will not remember the Forest Kingdom, nor the blasphemous love that nearly destroyed us all.”

“No…” Jisung choked, stepping forward. “You can’t—he loves him. You can’t just—”

The king’s glare stopped him dead. “If the realm learns the prince of Heaven gave his heart to the spawn of the Underworld, they will demand his execution. You would have me kill my own son in the square?”

Jisung’s mouth snapped shut, his fists trembling.

“It is mercy,” the king cut in, his voice low but unyielding. “Better to live in ignorance than to die in disgrace. He will be pure again. Untainted.”

Silence fell heavy. Hyunjin’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. He wanted to scream, to tear the walls down with his fury. But one glance at Felix’s still face, one glance at the way the queen’s tears fell, silenced him.

I.N.’s hands balled into fists. His heart screamed with guilt. He had helped Felix make the plan. He had watched him drink the potion, knowing it would save him—but he hadn’t imagined this ending. Not this.

The king turned toward the high chamber. “Bring the healer,” he commanded the guards. “When the prince wakes, he will be cleansed. And this—” his gaze snapped to the three friends—“this conversation never happened.”

Hyunjin’s lips parted in protest, but Jisung tugged his sleeve, shaking his head. Speaking now would only doom them.

The queen kissed Felix’s forehead, her tears staining his skin. “Rest, my darling. You will wake soon. You will be safe.”

But safe did not mean whole. Not anymore. And as Felix lay in his mother’s arms, suspended in the quiet of false death, the three friends stood in silence, their hearts breaking with the weight of the truth. Because they knew what awaited when Felix opened his eyes.

Not love. Not memories. Only emptiness.

_______________________________

When consciousness finally clawed its way back, it was not light that welcomed Chan.

It was darkness. Heavy, suffocating, thick with the stench of damp stone and rusted iron. His body ached from head to toe, a deep, brutal ache that told him he had been beaten, thrown, left to rot. Every breath rattled his ribs, and his wrists screamed as soon as he tried to move them.

Cold iron bit into his skin. Chains. Shackles around his wrists, another set around his ankles. His wings cramped painfully behind him, half-pinned against the wall. He was caged like an animal in the lowest pit of his father’s castle.

But the pain of his body was nothing. Nothing compared to the agony hollowing his chest. Felix.

The name burned through his skull, raw and relentless. Felix. His angel. His light. His life. Gone. Dead.

The memory struck him like a blade. The way Felix had lain in his arms, limp and unmoving. The warmth already fading from his skin. His lips pale, his lashes resting against white cheeks. The world had collapsed around him in that moment. Nothing else had mattered—no throne, no crown, no war. Only the boy who had been everything.

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, but tears still forced their way out, hot streaks carving down his face. He tried to lift his hands, to wipe them away, but the chains rattled cruelly, yanking him back against the stone. He hung there, helpless, tears dripping unchecked.

On his wrist, the bracelet glimmered faintly in the dark. Chan stilled. His breath hitched.

The bracelet. The one Felix had given him at Christmas. He had been so shy that night, fumbling with the little pouch, cheeks pink, freckles glowing in the candlelight. “It’s nothing big… just something I made. Don’t laugh, okay?”

Chan had nearly cried when he opened it. Smooth stones from the Sky Kingdom, strung together in uneven knots, imperfect but beautiful. Felix had made it with his own hands, his own love. Chan had sworn never to take it off.

And he hadn’t. Not once. He stared at it now through blurred vision, the silver thread digging into his skin beneath the iron shackles. His chest convulsed. Felix’s hands had touched this. Felix’s laughter had trembled when he tied it. Felix’s love had been woven into every knot, every stone.

And now Felix was—

“No.” The word ripped from his throat, raw, broken. “No, no, no…”

His voice cracked into a sob. He pulled at the chains, the iron biting into his wrists until blood slicked his skin, but he didn’t care. He yanked and yanked, his body shaking, until his arms gave out and he collapsed forward, forehead hitting the stone wall.

“Why?!” His scream echoed, swallowed by the dungeon. His whole body trembled. “Why didn’t you kill me instead? Why didn’t the fucking faun finish me?!”

He could still feel the impact of those horns driving into his chest, the pain tearing his ribs apart. If only the beast had struck harder. If only he had died there, in that maze. Then Felix would still be breathing. Felix would still be smiling.

His angel would still exist in this fucking world. ALIVE. Instead, Chan lived. And Felix was gone.

He hung there, shaking violently, sobs tearing through his lungs until he could barely breathe. His tears dripped to the floor, forming dark stains on the stone. His lips trembled as he whispered into the void.

“My angel…” His voice cracked. “My beautiful angel… you’re gone. I’ll never—never see you smile again. Never feel your lips on mine. Never… hear you laugh at me when I’m being stupid. Never…”

His throat closed. His chest caved inward. He couldn’t get enough air, couldn’t stop the flood of agony pouring out of him.

Felix’s eyes swam before him. Blue, bright, endless. Always sparkling with mischief, or soft with love. The eyes that had looked at him like he was worth something. Like he was everything. Now he would never see them again. Never.

Chan’s head dropped forward, chains rattling with the movement. Tears streamed freely down his face, soaking his collar, dripping to the floor. He didn’t bother trying to hide them. There was no one here to see.

No one left to comfort him.

“Felix…” he choked, voice nothing but shattered glass. “You were my whole damn world. You… you were everything I was fighting for. And now… now… you’re gone.”

The silence of the dungeon mocked him. No answer came. Only the steady drip of water, and the sound of his own sobs. His chest ached, not just from the broken ribs, but from the hollow, gaping wound where Felix had been. His soulmate. His reason. His angel. Dead. Gone. Forever.

Chan screamed again, the sound tearing from the depths of his soul. He fought the chains, metal biting, blood flowing, but nothing mattered. Nothing mattered without Felix.

He wanted the faun’s horns again. He wanted death. He wanted to follow Felix into the dark, to find him, to never let him go again. But he couldn’t. The chains held him. The world held him. And Felix was gone. His tears fell harder, faster, until he couldn’t see. His breath came in shuddering gasps. His body sagged forward, exhausted, broken.

But the pain never stopped. It ate him alive, second by second.

He thought of Felix’s freckles. The way his nose scrunched like a little cat when he laughed. The way his lips tasted when he whispered “I love you.” The way his hands felt tangled with Chan’s, warm and soft, holding on like he’d never let go.

Those hands would never hold him again. Those lips would never whisper his name. Chan’s body convulsed with another sob. He pressed his head against the cold stone, tears pooling beneath him. His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

“Why, angel? Why did you leave me?”

No answer came. Only silence. And in that silence, Chan wept, chained in the darkness, clutching the memory of a boy who would never return.

______________________________

The marble hallway outside the prince’s chamber was hushed, the silence so thick it pressed against every chest.

Hyunjin paced, his wings twitching in restless bursts. Jisung sat against the wall with his knees pulled close, gnawing on his lip until it bled. I.N. stood as still as a statue, his face pale but his eyes burning with stubborn fire.

The door had been closed for over an hour. Behind it, Felix’s parents and the celestial healer were at work. None of them had been allowed inside.

Hyunjin stopped suddenly, running a hand through his dark hair, voice breaking the silence.
“Are you—” He faltered, then clenched his fists. “I.N… are you absolutely sure the venom wasn’t permanent? That it’s not… killing him for real?”

Jisung’s eyes flew to the youngest as well, desperate. “Tell us again. Please.”

I.N. inhaled slowly, keeping his voice steady even as his stomach churned.
“It’s the Momentum Venom. Temporary. I tested it when I was a teenager and started reading potions, I prepared it, and Felix knew the risk. His heart stops, yes, but only for a few hours. Then it beats again. I’m sure. He’ll be waking soon.”

“Soon…” Hyunjin muttered, but his voice carried no relief. His eyes darted back to the closed door as if willing it to open.

The seconds dragged. Each one felt like a blade drawn across their nerves. Then— The lock clicked. The heavy door creaked open.

All three boys shot upright, wings flaring slightly in instinct. Their breaths caught.

Out stepped the celestial healer, his long white robes dusted with starlight. His silver hair was damp with sweat, but his face serene. Behind him came the King of the Heavens himself, tall and terrible in his golden crown.

The King reached out, gripping the healer’s hand firmly, bowing his head in respect.
“Though I wear the crown, tonight it is you who holds the greatest power. You have saved my son.”

The healer’s face betrayed no pride. He merely inclined his head, his great wings unfurling for the first time since he had entered the chamber, feathers gleaming as if dusted in light. Without a word, he descended the staircase, each step echoing until his figure disappeared into the lower halls.

Hyunjin couldn’t hold back. He stepped forward.
“Your Majesty—”

But Jisung was quicker, blurting, “Is he awake? Can we see him? Please—tell us Felix is breathing again—”

The King’s gaze snapped to them. Cold. Piercing.

“You may be his best friends,” he said slowly, “but never forget that you failed him. You let him stray into the grasp of that creature from the hell. You let him love a monster.”

Jisung flinched as though struck.

Hyunjin’s jaw clenched, fury flashing through his eyes. “Chan is not like the rest of the—”

“Enough!” The King’s voice thundered, reverberating down the marble hall. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do not dare speak that name within these walls. Not in my palace. Not in my kingdom. That name is forbidden.”

The weight of the command crushed down on them. Hyunjin’s wings trembled but folded, his lips pressed into a thin line as he bowed his head.

The three of them lowered their gazes in unison. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The King’s voice dropped lower, colder. “I will make myself clear. The healer has done more than help my son. He has cleansed him—erased the stain of that wretched demon from his mind. From now on, Felix knows nothing of him, nothing of their… disgrace.” His lip curled.

Hyunjin’s fists shook at his sides. Jisung’s throat bobbed with the effort to stay silent. I.N.’s heart hammered in his chest.

The King’s eyes sharpened. “And do not think me a fool. I know the thought must already be in your minds—to tell him, to return the memories that have been stripped away. But hear this: the spell woven into him is absolute. If anyone dares to speak that name, to reveal even a shred of the truth—” He lifted his hand. Light flickered across his palm, deadly and cold. “—that person will be reduced to dust before the words leave their tongue.”

The threat hung heavy in the air, searing into their bones.

The King stepped closer, his shadow stretching over them. “Not only if you speak it. If you write it. If you whisper it in secret. If you even attempt to tell him through any cowardly means—the punishment will strike you instantly. Do you understand?”

The three boys shared a horrified glance.

“Yes, sir,” Jisung whispered, voice trembling.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hyunjin forced through clenched teeth.

I.N. swallowed hard, his lips dry, but nodded. “Yes, your Highness.”

The King studied them a moment longer, as if weighing their sincerity. Then he turned away, his cloak sweeping behind him. Without another word, he strode back through the door into Felix’s chamber. The faintest glimpse of golden hair could be seen upon the bed inside, motionless still. Then the door shut once more.

The echo of the lock falling into place rang like a sentence being sealed.

Hyunjin let out a strangled breath, hands trembling. Jisung pressed his palms to his face, muffling a quiet sob. I.N. just stood frozen, staring at the door, his chest heaving as silent terror knotted itself tighter around his throat.

Felix would wake. But Felix would wake with no memory of the love of his life.

__________________________________

The black stone towers of the Underworld palace loomed like jagged spears against a burning sky. Inside, the great hall pulsed with noise, the throne room crowded with nobles, soldiers, and common folk who had been summoned for the proclamation.

The King of Hell stood tall at the dais, his booming voice carrying over the restless throng.

“Rejoice!” he declared, wings spread wide like a curtain of shadow. “The trial is ended. The alliance with the Forest is ours. My son has emerged victorious.”

Cheers erupted, dark voices rising into a thunderous roar. Yet when the King’s tone sharpened, silence snapped back like a leash.

“But know this,” he continued, venom coiling in his words. “That cursed prince of the skies sought to corrupt him. To twist his heart with a false enchantment of love.”

A wave of hisses and growls surged through the crowd.

The King raised his hand, silencing them. “Do not fear. My son is no weakling to be swayed by Heaven’s tricks. He is the strongest demon alive. The greatest weapon of our age. No angel’s poison can taint his blood for long.”

The hall thundered with approval. Demons stomped their feet, claws scraping, voices booming. But in the shadows near the rear of the chamber, three figures stood still, their faces pale, their throats dry. Changbin. Minho. Seungmin. They said nothing, even as the crowd shouted their adoration of Chan’s “strength.” They knew the truth—what the King would never admit aloud.

They had seen it. The way Chan had dropped to his knees in the trial grounds, arms cradling Felix’s still body, his voice breaking with pleas, with love. They had seen the desperation, the kiss pressed against lips that no longer moved. The whispered “I love you” that silenced even the trees. The King’s proclamation was a lie. All of it.

When the crowd began to disperse, the three finally slipped away, down a quieter corridor of the palace where the noise of celebration could not reach.

Changbin pressed a fist against the wall, his jaw tight. “Fuck… I can’t stop thinking about him. About Chan.”

Minho leaned against a column, his voice quieter but heavier. “He’s… he’s probably breaking apart in the dungeons. Felix was his everything. His light.” His throat closed, and he glanced at Seungmin, almost afraid of the thought forming in his chest. “If it were Jisung… if I lost him like that…” His voice cracked. He shook his head violently. “No. I wouldn’t survive it. I’d follow him straight into death. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay in a world where he doesn’t exist.”

Changbin’s eyes shone, uncharacteristically raw. “Same. If Hyunjin was gone, I don’t think I’d keep breathing. There’d be no point. None. He’s my soul.”

Seungmin’s usually calm expression wavered, his lips trembling as he spoke. “Don’t even say it. Don’t. If I.N. ever…” He cut himself off, shaking his head as if trying to fling the thought away. “No. I can’t think about it. He’s too… he’s too much of me. If he disappeared, I’d disappear too.”

The silence that followed was thick with grief and terror.

Changbin pressed his knuckles against his forehead, exhaling shakily. “Then imagine Chan. Right now. He adored that little angel with his whole being. He’d give his soul for him—and now… now Felix is gone.”

None of them spoke. Because there weren’t words big enough for that kind of pain.

Finally, Changbin muttered, his voice breaking in the middle: “He always called Felix his little butterfly with freckles. Said no one had ever made him laugh and ache at the same time like that boy. God, he loved him.”

The three stood in silence, their hearts heavy, the air pressing down with the weight of what they couldn’t change. Then, heavy footsteps approached. The King himself strode through the corridor, cloak sweeping, his eyes narrowing when he spotted them.

“And what,” his voice rumbled, dangerous, “are the three of you doing lurking here?”

They froze, bowing immediately. Changbin spoke first, his tone careful. “Your Majesty. We… we wished to see Chan. To check on him.”

For a moment, silence. Then the King’s mouth curved into something cold and cruel.

“See him?” He barked a laugh, shaking his head. “My son has defied me. He has spat on his blood, his heritage. He dared to weep over a moth from the skies.” His eyes blazed. “And you think I will grant him company? No. He will rot where he is, chained in the dark, until he learns obedience. Days. Weeks. Months, if I must.”

The King leaned closer, voice dripping disdain.
“He turned his back on his own father for that wretched angel. Fell to his knees, cried like a child, kissed that corpse.” His lip curled. “A disgrace to our name.”

The three friends stiffened, rage burning behind their eyes, but none of them dared speak. The King strode past them, vanishing into the shadows of the palace halls, leaving the three frozen in silence, the echo of his contempt ringing in their ears.

Only when the sound of his footsteps faded did Seungmin whisper, voice trembling:
“Chan is not going to survive without Felix…”

The three exchanged looks—haunted, furious, helpless.

________________________________

The chamber was silent except for the soft rustle of curtains and the shallow breaths of two terrified parents. The Queen sat at Felix’s bedside, her fingers clenched around his pale hand. The King paced in short, rigid steps near the window, every second of stillness cutting into him like a blade.

Then it happened.

A twitch. Barely noticeable at first—the faintest flutter in Felix’s fingers. The Queen gasped, clutching his hand tighter. “He moved!” Her voice cracked into a sob. “He moved, he—”

The King spun around, his eyes wide. And then, as though the gods themselves had heard their prayers, Felix’s chest rose with a sudden shuddering inhale. Air rushed into lungs that had been still for hours, and the sound was the sweetest, rawest music the Queen had ever heard.

“Felix,” she whispered, choking on tears, her hands cupping his cheeks as color began to return to them. “My boy, my sweet baby—”

The King fell to his knees beside the bed, head bowing, lips moving in a rare prayer of gratitude. “Thank you… thank you, gods above. Thank you for returning him to us.”

Felix’s eyelids fluttered open, blue irises dazed and unfocused as though he were staring through a fog. His lips parted. A cracked whisper escaped: “Mother? Father?”

The Queen sobbed outright then, pressing frantic kisses to his temple. “Yes, yes, my love—it’s us. You’re safe, you’re here.”

Felix blinked, his gaze swimming between them, confusion knitting his brow. “What… what happened? Why are you here? Why am I—” He looked down at himself, tangled in sheets, his body weak. “Why am I in bed?”

The King’s eyes flicked to his wife. A silent exchange passed between them: the beginning of the lie. He swallowed and forced his voice steady. “You fell, Felix. Off your winged unicorn. A foolish accident, but—” he reached to brush the hair from his son’s damp forehead “—a dangerous one. You struck your head.”

Felix’s hand immediately rose, fingers brushing the side of his skull as if expecting a wound. He frowned. “I… don’t remember.”

“That’s normal,” the Queen said quickly, her voice wrapping him in softness. She kissed the corner of his mouth, tears still streaking her face. “Don’t trouble yourself with memory. What matters is that you’re safe. You’re alive.”

Felix searched their faces, confusion still shadowing his features, but he nodded faintly. “If you say so…” His voice trailed into exhaustion. “I feel… strange.”

“Rest, my boy,” the Queen whispered, smoothing the blanket over his chest. “All you need is rest.”

The King rose then, stepping toward the door with a heavy breath, intending to give his wife more time alone with their son. But as his hand touched the handle and he pulled it open… Three bodies tumbled gracelessly into the room, hitting the floor with a collective yelp.

Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N. scrambled upright, their faces red, their wings in disarray. They had clearly been pressed ear-to-door, desperate to catch any sound. Now, caught in the act, they froze under the King’s searing glare. The angels understood everything. The king just said with his eyes Not one word. Not one whisper of the demon.

The three angels bowed their heads immediately, but their silence spoke of defiance barely restrained.

Felix blinked at them from the bed, still weak, still foggy. “Hyunjin? Ji? I.N.?” His voice cracked, small and bewildered.

And then Jisung broke. With a sob, he launched himself onto the bed, wrapping Felix in a desperate embrace that knocked the breath from him. “Felix! Oh gods, Felix—I thought—I thought—” His words collapsed into sobs against Felix’s shoulder.

Hyunjin wasn’t far behind, his long arms circling them both, his forehead pressed to Felix’s hair as his chest heaved with relief. I.N. stood frozen for a heartbeat longer, his eyes shimmering, before he too stepped forward and gripped Felix’s hand, holding it like an anchor.

Felix, bewildered and still aching, let out a small breath of laughter, though it was strained. “I… I only fell off my unicorn, didn’t I? No need to cry so much.” It was the only story he had, the only explanation his parents had offered him.

The three friends froze. Their eyes darted to the King and Queen, who stood stiff, regal, warning clear in their gaze.

Hyunjin forced a laugh, watery and unconvincing. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s all. You scared us though, idiot. You’ve got to be more careful.”

Felix smiled faintly, the expression soft but oddly detached. He didn’t understand their tears, not really. But he didn’t push. He let them hold him, let them cry into his shoulder, even as he felt… wrong. Incomplete. Like something inside of him had been carved out and left hollow.

The Queen stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. “Enough now. He needs to rest.”

Jisung’s arms clung tighter for a heartbeat before he finally pulled back, tears still streaking his cheeks. “We’ll come tomorrow,” he whispered fiercely, his eyes locking with Felix’s. “We’ll be here every day until you’re sick of us.”

Felix nodded softly, raising a hand to wave them off, though his movements were weak. “Tomorrow, then.”

Reluctantly, Hyunjin and Jisung stepped away. I.N. lingered for one last squeeze of Felix’s hand, his throat tight, his gaze burning with all the words he could never say. Then he too turned, wings heavy at his back. The King ushered them out with a single stern glance, shutting the door behind them.

Silence fell once more. Felix lay against the pillows, eyes half-closed, a strange frown tugging at his lips. He lifted his hand, staring at it as though it belonged to someone else. He didn’t know why, but it felt… foreign. Empty. Something was missing. Something vital.

His chest ached faintly, not with pain but with absence, like a song whose melody had been stripped away mid-note. He shifted uncomfortably beneath the blankets, unable to place it, unable to name it.

And so, when his mother leaned over and pressed another kiss to his forehead, whispering, “Sleep, my darling,” he obeyed. He closed his eyes.

But even in the quiet darkness, even in the safety of his own room, Felix could not shake the strangest sensation.

Chapter Text

The dungeons breathed despair. Moisture clung to the walls, seeping into every crack of the stone. Chains rattled softly whenever he moved, a cruel reminder that even freedom was stolen from him. The air was thick, stagnant, suffocating.

And in the middle of it, bound by wrists and ankles, knelt Chan.

His head sagged forward, chin pressed into the hollow of his chest. His dark hair, matted with sweat and grime, curtained his face. His lips parted slightly, dragging shallow breaths into lungs that didn’t want to function anymore. His body was still alive, but inside… inside there was nothing left. Hollow. A word too clean, too fragile to contain the endless tearing ache inside his ribs.

His wrists bled beneath the iron cuffs; his ankles were bruised purple where the chains had gnawed into him. But pain was irrelevant. His body could suffer, could rot, could die—it didn’t matter. Because the real pain, the unbearable, consuming pain, was lodged in his chest.

Felix. His sunshine.

Every blink burned with memories of him. His smile, so radiant it could chase away the cold of the underworld itself. His freckles—tiny constellations that Chan used to trace with his fingertips as though they were sacred. The delicate curve of his hands pressed against Chan’s chest, his neck, his jaw, as if Felix were memorizing every inch of him.

His kisses. Gods, his kisses. Gentle and slow one moment, teasing and demanding the next, always leaving Chan trembling because how could an angel possibly love him this way?

And nights—oh, the nights. Felix’s golden head resting over his heart, listening, breathing, whispering sleep-drunk words like you’re mine, you know that? The sound of that voice, the rhythm of that laugh, the purity of that gaze—it was etched into Chan’s very bones.

He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth sinking into his lip so hard it split. Gone. All of it, gone.

The trial. The faun. The blood. Felix’s body limp and lifeless in his arms. The cold stillness of lips that would never kiss back. The last scream Chan had torn from his chest as he realized the world had ended.

A sob ripped free before he could stop it. His shoulders shook violently as the sound clawed out of his throat. Tears poured down his face, hot and merciless, dripping onto his bare chest where they mingled with sweat and dirt. His shackled hands couldn’t wipe them away.

“Felix…” he whispered, voice cracked, breaking. “My angel… my sunshine…”

The chains rattled faintly as his body convulsed with grief. He tried to muffle it, but the silence of the dungeon betrayed him. His cries echoed back, each one slicing deeper.

“I can’t…” Chan whispered, shaking his head, voice unraveling. “I can’t do this without you.”

His voice cracked on the last word. He let out another broken scream, head falling back, throat burning as the sound filled the emptiness around him.

The door creaked open.

Chan stiffened. The scrape of boots against stone, the unmistakable aura of authority—his father.

The King of the Underworld entered, expression carved from cold stone. His eyes swept over his son like he was nothing more than filth chained to the floor.

Chan didn’t lift his head. His hair veiled his face, tears dripping silently now.

The King’s voice was steady, cruelly composed. “Tell me, Bang Chan. Do you regret it? Do you regret throwing away your reputation, your throne, everything that made you heir—over a filthy insect? Do you regret becoming the most pathetic, shameful creature in this realm, because you dared to fall in love with a glittering moth?”

Chan bit his tongue, tasting blood. Silence was all he gave him.

The King smirked at the quiet. “Nothing to say? Good. Your disgrace already speaks louder than words.”

He snapped his fingers. A guard entered, carrying a tray. The smell of food filled the dungeon—bread, roasted meat, water. The guard placed it down and stepped back.

“Eat,” the King ordered.

Chan’s voice was faint, rasping, torn raw from screams. “I’m not hungry. Take it away.”

“You’ve refused food for three days,” the King barked. “You’ll die if you keep this up.”

“Good,” Chan whispered. His voice shook, but the word dripped like poison. “Good. Let me die… I just want that…”

The King froze. Rage flashed in his eyes.

“You insolent—” His voice trembled with barely controlled fury. “You think death will fix this?” His tone dropped, vicious. “Then rot. Rot here like the pathetic waste you’ve become. As far as I am concerned, my son died the moment he kissed that corpse of that fucking angel.”

Chan’s fists clenched so hard the shackles cut deeper into his skin. And then—the dagger. The King turned to leave, but stopped, his voice sharp as knives.

“That impure angel got what he deserved. I’m glad he’s dead.”

Something inside Chan shattered.

A roar ripped from him—raw, feral, inhuman. It shook the dungeon walls, shook his very chains. He lunged forward, every muscle screaming as he hurled himself at his father. The iron snapped him back, slamming him to the floor. His chest seized with agony, but he barely felt it over the fire in his blood.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Chan screamed, veins straining in his neck. His voice was unrecognizable, ripped apart by grief and rage. “You bastard—I’ll rip you apart!! Don’t fucking dare to—”

The chains rattled wildly, cutting his skin, tearing at his flesh, but they held. He fought until he collapsed, body shaking, lungs heaving like he’d swallowed fire.

“I hate you,” he hissed, eyes burning holes into his father. “I hate you. Do us all a favor and kill yourself… You are not my father! You are a monster!!”

The King sneered, unaffected. Without another word, he turned and left. The iron door slammed shut.

Silence again. Chan crumpled, chains clinking as he fell to his knees. His head bowed, forehead pressing to the cold stone. His chest convulsed with ragged sobs. And in the silence, he heard him. Felix’s voice. Soft, teasing, wrapped around his heart.

Control yourself, my wolf from hell. Don’t let them take you from me. We love each other. That’s stronger than anything.

Over and over, the demon replayed them, clutching them as though they were lifelines. His only light in the endless dark.

And though his body was bound, though his soul was hollowed out, though despair ate at him with every breath—Chan held onto that image of Felix.

Because if he let it go, then truly, nothing of him would remain.

________________________________

Two days have passed. Felix had been walking for what felt like hours. The gardens were silent except for the faint hum of bees moving lazily through the blooms, the rustle of leaves in the breeze. White roses lined the paths, their petals glowing faintly beneath the pastel sky. Above, ribbons of yellow and pink stretched like brushstrokes across heaven’s canvas. Beautiful, serene—everything the Sky Kingdom was meant to be.

And yet. His chest ached.

Felix moved without purpose, his bare feet brushing softly against the marble path, his hands trailing idly over blossoms as he passed. He didn’t know where he was going. Didn’t even know why he was out here. His body carried him forward while his mind drifted somewhere else—somewhere unreachable.

He paused at a fountain, staring at his reflection in the shimmering water. Blue eyes looked back at him, rimmed with shadows that no amount of rest could erase. His hair caught the golden light, yet he felt no warmth. He pressed a hand to his sternum, fingers curling into the fabric of his robe.

That ache again. Deep, dull, endless. It wasn’t pain like a wound or sickness. It was worse—it was emptiness. A hollow space where something belonged. Something important.

Felix frowned, his chest tightening further. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe deeply, trying to steady the sudden rush of panic rising inside. But it only made the absence sharper, like a scream muffled behind a wall.

Why did he feel like this? Why did he wake in the mornings with tears drying on his cheeks? Why did his hands twitch as though reaching for something that wasn’t there? Why did his lips burn with the phantom memory of a kiss he couldn’t recall?

He shook his head hard, clutching at the edge of the fountain. Get a grip, Felix.

But the hollow pressed harder, suffocating. Something was wrong. He wandered further into the gardens, his steps unsteady now. His breath came faster, shallow. He brushed through the roses as though searching for something hidden among the thorns. His fingertips trembled. His chest burned with anguish he couldn’t name.

“I’m missing something,” he whispered to the air. His voice cracked.

The words scared him, but they felt true. He was missing something. He stopped, heart pounding, staring at the horizon where the sky bled pink into gold. His throat tightened until it hurt to breathe. Tears spilled suddenly, silently, tracking down his cheeks. He didn’t understand why.

He should be happy. His parents told him he’d survived a fall from his unicorn. His friends surrounded him, relieved and smiling. He was alive, safe, whole. So why did he feel broken?

Felix sank to his knees in the grass. The white roses swayed gently around him, but he didn’t notice their beauty. He pressed his hands over his face, trying to hold himself together as sobs wracked his chest. The hollow inside screamed louder now. A void so deep it felt like it would consume him.

“Why…?” His voice trembled, muffled against his palms. “Why do I feel like half of me is gone?”

The gardens gave no answer. Only the wind, only the roses, only the ache. Felix dragged in a shuddering breath, lowering his hands, eyes red and swollen. His gaze lifted to the sky again, searching the vast expanse as if an answer might be written there. There was nothing. Nothing but the endless ache.

___________________________________

The dungeons reeked of damp stone and rusted chains. Torches burned low, casting sickly shadows that crawled across the walls like restless spirits. It was cold—so cold even for demons, as though the place had been built to crush hope out of anything that lingered here.

Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin slipped through the corridors with tricks only true sons of the Underworld could master—shadows bending to their will, illusions cloaking their steps. They had done this before, sneaking into places they weren’t supposed to. But never had their hearts pounded like this.

Because this time, it was for Chan. And nothing could have prepared them for what they saw when they pushed open the iron gate of his cell. There he was. Not the Chan they knew, not the strong, stubborn, commanding future king of the Underworld. No. This was a hollowed ghost of him.

His wrists and ankles were chained to the walls, pulling him into a kneel, his body sagging forward. His chin rested against his chest, strands of dark hair matted against sweat-soaked skin. His chest rose and fell in shallow, ragged breaths. His eyes—those sharp, fire-filled eyes—barely lifted when they entered. Chan looked broken.

“Prince…” Minho’s voice cracked. His throat closed up at the sight.

“Fuck…” Changbin muttered, fists trembling at his sides. Rage sparked hot in his veins. “How the hell can they chain him like this? He’s their prince!”

But Chan didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at them. His head hung low, as though the weight of the chains was nothing compared to the weight in his chest.

Seungmin, the quietest of them all, stepped forward first. He crouched near Chan, eyes glistening, voice soft. “Chan-hyung… can you hear me?”

For a long moment, nothing.

Then, slowly, painfully, Chan lifted his head. His lips were cracked, blood crusted where he had bitten through them. His eyes were swollen, red, glassy with tears that hadn’t stopped for days.

“...Why are you here?” His voice was hoarse, broken. Barely a whisper.

“To see you,” Seungmin said gently. “To help you.”

Chan gave a dry, bitter laugh that dissolved into a cough. He shook his head weakly. “Help? No one can help me.”

Minho moved closer, fury boiling in his chest. He tugged at the iron chains, calling every ounce of strength in his demon blood. Sparks flew, metal groaned—but the bonds remained. His arms dropped, defeated. “Damn it!”

“They’ve enchanted them,” Seungmin said, his voice trembling. “Not even we can break them…”

Changbin’s fists slammed against the wall. “This is bullshit! You’re the heir, Chan! The future king of the Underworld, and they’ve got you chained like a fucking dog.”

Chan’s head turned slightly, eyes dull, lips trembling. His voice broke when he spoke:

“I’ll never be king. My father made that clear. To him, I’m already dead.”

The three of them froze, their hearts cracking in unison. Seungmin’s eyes filled. He couldn’t stand it—the sight of Chan like this, the sound of defeat in his voice. Never once in their lives had Chan been anything less than relentless, unyielding, a fire that wouldn’t go out. But here… he was ashes.

There was food left untouched in the corner. A metal tray, a slab of meat going cold. Seungmin grabbed it with shaking hands, carrying it to him. “Hyung,” he whispered, kneeling. “Please. Eat something. You’ve gone days without food. You’re fading… please. Eat. Just a bite. Do it for him. If you can’t do it for yourself… do it for Felix.”

Chan’s glassy eyes locked on Seungmin, and tears welled instantly. The sight of his friend holding out food—it tore him apart. Because for one second, just one fragile second, he imagined Felix kneeling there instead. Felix with his soft freckles, his smile brighter than the sun, begging him with that little lox voice of his: Please, wolf from hell, don’t give up.

But Felix was gone. Felix was dead. And Chan’s heart couldn’t bear it.

The tears spilled over, dripping down his hollow cheeks. His voice cracked open like a wound. “Don’t… don’t say his name.”

The three of them went still. But it was too late. The damage was done. Felix. Just the sound of it tore Chan to pieces.

He broke. His sobs ripped out of him, shaking his whole chained body. He bent forward as much as the iron allowed, choking on the grief that had never left his chest. “Felix… my Felix… my sunshine…” His cries echoed through the stone walls, raw and gut-wrenching. “He’s gone. He’s dead! And I’m still here, when I should’ve died in his place!”

Tears slipped down Seungmin’s face before he could stop them. Minho turned away, swallowing hard, fists trembling. Even Changbin, the strongest of them all, felt his throat burn, his vision blur.

Seungmin set the tray down, his voice breaking. “Hyung… please. Eat. Just a little. You need to eat.”

Chan’s sobs tore harder at the sound of that name. His chest heaved with pain so sharp it felt like it would split him open.

“Felix is dead,” Chan whispered, voice shattered. “My life… my life ended with him.”

Minho snapped. He snatched the slab of meat from Seungmin’s hands, storming forward. His eyes burned with fury and grief. “Shut the fuck up, Chan! You think you’re the only one who lost someone? You think Felix wanted this? You think he wanted you to rot here like this?”

Chan didn’t respond. He just cried harder, body wracking with sobs.

“Fine,” Minho growled. He shoved the meat against Chan’s lips, prying his jaw open with brute force. “If you won’t eat on your own, I’ll make you!” He shoved a piece into his mouth, forcing it down, covering Chan’s lips with his palm until he swallowed.

Chan coughed, choking, gagging. Tears poured down his face.

“Swallow it!” Minho snarled. “Swallow it, damn you. If not for yourself, then for him. For Felix.”

Chan’s body shook, but the food slid down. He sobbed harder, muffled against Minho’s hand.

Seungmin knelt, voice trembling, eyes begging. “Please, hyung. Keep fighting. Do it in his memory.  You are the only one who can stop the war between the Underworld and the Heaven. Please. Don’t let him die in vain.”

Chan turned his head, eyes blazing with grief. His voice was a ragged whisper: “Leave. All of you. Just leave me here. Let me die, let me see him again.”

“No,” Changbin said firmly, shaking his head. His voice was rough with held-back tears. “We’re not leaving you to die. You’re our brother. And Felix… Felix loved you too much for us to let you throw that away.”

Chan snapped. His voice roared through the dungeon, hoarse, broken, guttural: “I said GET OUT!”

The sound shook the stones. Even chained, his rage filled the room like fire.

His friends froze. Minho clenched his jaw, ready to argue, but Chan cut him off with another scream: “Leave me the fuck alone! Let me die! It’s all I want—just to close my eyes and see him again!”

The three demons exchanged a look. Pain etched across their faces, but they knew when Chan’s fire was too raw to touch. Reluctantly, one by one, they moved toward the door.

Changbin stopped in the doorway, glancing back at him one last time. His voice cracked as he spoke: “You’re not alone, Chan. Even if you think you are. We’re not letting you die—not for anything in this world or the next.”

Chan didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His body shook with sobs too violent for words. The iron door groaned shut, leaving him kneeling in the dark, chains rattling softly with the weight of his despair. Alone again. With nothing but the ghost of Felix’s voice whispering in his head.

“My demon… don’t forget how much I love you.”

And Chan wept until the sound of his cries was swallowed whole by the dungeon’s silence.

_________________________________

The streets of the Celestial Kingdom glowed with golden light, every marble archway and crystalline tower bathed in the hues of a setting sky that shimmered in rose and amber. The air smelled of lilies and white roses, laughter floated in the distance, children ran barefoot across polished cobblestones. It should have been perfect.

But Felix felt nothing.

He walked in silence between Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N., his steps slow, aimless, as if his soul were trailing behind him, tethered by a string that was fraying thinner each day. The voices of his friends buzzed faintly in his ears, muted like sound under water. His chest ached with something he couldn’t name—an emptiness so vast it made breathing difficult.

Then Hyunjin, ever the light-bringer, stopped suddenly and pointed toward a shop whose windows overflowed with soft toys. “Let’s go in!” he grinned, tugging Jisung by the sleeve. I.N. followed, shaking his head but smiling faintly.

Inside, the air was sweet with lavender sachets stuffed between shelves of plush animals. Jisung gasped, his voice high with excitement. “Oh my God, they’re all so cute! I want them all.” He held a winged rabbit to his chest, beaming. Hyunjin squealed over a bear with a tiny golden crown, and I.N. quietly inspected a row of foxes with thoughtful eyes.

They laughed, their voices echoing between shelves.

None of them noticed that Felix hadn’t moved.

His gaze locked on a single plush sitting low on the shelf—a wolf. Its grey fur was soft, its stitched eyes dark and steady. And the instant Felix picked it up, everything inside him shattered.

His heart pounded violently, each beat painful, frantic. His throat closed. The tears came so suddenly he didn’t even have time to hide them. They poured down his cheeks in rivers, hot and endless, blurring his vision until all he could see was the wolf pressed desperately against his chest. It was like his body remembered something his mind couldn’t.

His knees trembled. He gasped, sobs tearing from his throat, shaking him so violently he thought he might collapse.

“Felix?” Jisung’s voice broke, and he dropped the rabbit from his hands, rushing to catch him. He wrapped his arms around Felix, alarm in his voice. “What’s wrong? Hey, hey, you’re scaring me—”

Hyunjin and I.N. turned, and their hearts dropped at the sight. Felix shook in Jisung’s arms, clinging to the plush wolf as if his life depended on it. His tears soaked through the fabric. His words spilled between sobs, fractured and raw.

“Now you’re going to think I’m crazy,” he choked, his voice breaking, “but the second I saw this… my chest—it hurt. It hurt so much, like something is missing… something I can’t reach.” His sobs intensified, nearly choking him. “I feel like I lost something. Something so important. The most important thing I’ve ever had in my life.” He pressed the wolf tighter against his chest, gasping for breath. “And I don’t even know what it is. I just—I know I need it back. I can’t—” He shook violently, panic cutting off his words. “I can’t live like this if I don’t find it.”

Jisung’s eyes brimmed instantly, tears spilling down his cheeks as he held Felix tighter. “Shh, Lixie, shh, you’re okay—”

But Felix wasn’t okay. He was unraveling, right there in the middle of the shop, his sobs echoing like screams in the silence that had fallen around them. He hyperventilated, his breaths shallow and fast, his body trembling harder with each second.

Hyunjin’s hands shook at his sides. He wanted to tell him—God, he wanted to tell him what he had truly lost—but the spell bound his throat like a vice. So he just bit down on his lip until it bled, tears streaming helplessly down his face.

“Let’s get him out of here,” Jisung said quickly, his own voice breaking. He pulled Felix toward the door, Hyunjin and I.N. flanking them. Felix barely noticed, his arms locked around the wolf, tears falling nonstop.

Felix nodded weakly, still clutching the plush wolf. “I—I need this one,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I need it.”

They didn’t argue. Jisung grabbed coins from his pocket, tossed them onto the counter without waiting for change, and the four of them hurried from the shop.

They didn’t stop until they reached the park, where a waterfall poured into a pool of shimmering light. They sat on the glowing grass, and Felix collapsed, curling into himself with the wolf clutched so hard it looked like it might tear.

Hyunjin crouched close, his voice trembling. “Felix, tell us what you’re feeling.”

Felix looked up at them through red-rimmed eyes, his freckles streaked with wetness. His voice came out broken, each word torn from a bleeding place inside him.

“Since the accident… I’ve been feeling… wrong.” His breathing hitched, sharp. “Like a piece of me is gone. Like there’s this hole in my chest that nothing can fill. And every day it gets worse. I—” He broke again, burying his face into the wolf, sobbing. “I lost something. I know I lost it. I don’t know what it is, but it’s the most important thing I’ve ever had. The most important thing in my entire life. And I can’t remember it… I can’t remember it, and it’s killing me.”

The words dissolved into screams of grief muffled by the wolf plush. His body convulsed with sobs, his chest heaving as he hyperventilated, gasping desperately for air between cries.

“Why?!” Felix sobbed, voice shattering. “Why does it hurt this much?! Why do I feel like my soul isn’t complete? Like I’m… half-dead inside?”

Jisung broke completely, throwing his arms around him, crying with him, his own chest aching. “Don’t say that, don’t—please, you’re not broken, Lixie—”

Felix clung to him, to all of them, his blue eyes drowning in tears, his lips trembling. “Help me… please. Help me find what I’ve lost. Help me… because it feels like if I don’t, I’ll die. My heart—my heart feels so empty. Like half of it was ripped away.”

His sobs wracked his small frame, each one ripping into his friends like knives.

Hyunjin’s face was pale, streaked with tears he didn’t bother to wipe away. He reached forward, resting his trembling hand against Felix’s back, whispering though his voice cracked, “We’re here. Whatever it is… whatever you’ve lost… we’re going to stay with you.”

I.N. stroked Felix’s golden hair, his own eyes glassy with sorrow, murmuring, “Shhh. You don’t have to do this alone.”

But Felix only cried harder, holding the wolf to his chest like it was his missing piece, his sobs echoing under the shimmering cascade, a melody of grief that tore the night open. And none of them could tell him the truth.

_______________________________

The palace loomed high and radiant, its towers glowing under the soft hues of the eternal heavens. Felix’s steps echoed faintly against the marble floor as they entered through the golden gates. His tears had not stopped. They streamed silently now, staining his freckled cheeks, his lips trembling as he hugged the wolf plush tighter against his chest.

“Felix, maybe you should rest,” Hyunjin whispered gently, his voice breaking.

Felix nodded without protest. His body had no fight left. His shoulders hunched forward, his eyes dim and hollow, he began climbing the stairs of the palace slowly. Every step looked like it cost him a lifetime. There was no spark in him, no glow. Just a flickering shadow of the sunshine he had always been.

The three angels stood frozen, watching him ascend. Their throats burned with the weight of helplessness. When Felix finally disappeared at the top of the staircase, they turned to each other. No words were needed. They already knew.

Without hesitation, they ran down the corridors until they reached the grand doors of the Queen’s office. They didn’t bother knocking. Jisung shoved the door open, and the three of them stormed inside.

The Queen sat at her desk, quill in hand, golden documents scattered before her. She looked up, startled by the intrusion. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, her voice sharp but laced with concern.

Hyunjin’s chest heaved. “It’s Felix,” he said, breathless. “He’s not well.”

“He’s worse than not well,” Jisung cut in, his voice raw, trembling with anger. “He cries all the time. He doesn’t eat. He doesn’t smile. His light—his light is gone.” Tears welled in his eyes as he pointed toward the staircase they had just left. “He’s fading right in front of us, Your Majesty, and all because you erased the memories of the most important person in his life.”

The Queen’s eyes flashed dangerously. She rose from her chair with authority, her presence filling the room like a storm. “Stop this nonsense at once. Do not dare utter such lies in my presence. That monster from the underworld was never important to my son. Never!” Her voice cracked like thunder. “Felix is simply confused. He has just returned from death. His soul is adjusting, and that void he feels has nothing to do with that demon.”

Hyunjin’s fists clenched, but his voice remained steady, respectful despite the fire burning in his chest. “With all due respect, Your Majesty… Felix deserves to decide that for himself. He needs his memories back. He has the right to know what he lost. If you keep him in the dark, he will fall sick. He already is. He’s dying inside—without food, without joy, without light.”

The Queen’s face hardened, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. “I would rather have a son who is sick, even bedridden for eternity, than a son who betrays his kingdom by loving an enemy and gets killed. You know what they would do to him if the truth came out. He would be slaughtered in front of the entire realm for treason. Do you think I will risk that? I will not lose him! He is my baby.”

Jisung’s tears spilled freely now, his voice shaking with rage. “But you are losing him. Right now. Every second you keep him away from the truth, you’re killing him faster than any execution ever could.”

The Queen’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes burned, but she said sadly, “Enough... please... Leave. This conversation is over.”

They stood frozen for a moment, their hearts pounding, fury trembling in their veins. The Queen turned her back, dismissing them as if their words were dust.

Hyunjin growled low under his breath, but Jisung tugged his sleeve, urging him toward the door. Reluctantly, the three of them stormed out, the heavy doors slamming shut behind them.

Silence filled the corridor, broken only by their ragged breathing. Their hands shook, their eyes wet.

I.N. was the first to speak, his voice quiet but sharp with determination. “There’s only one way left. We have to find the book.”

Hyunjin turned toward him, eyes narrowing. “The prophecy?”

I.N. nodded firmly. “Yes. The book that holds it. If we can find it, we’ll know what path to take. We’ll know how to help Felix. And maybe… maybe even Chan.”

Jisung groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Do you realize how big the royal library is? It’ll take centuries to find one book buried in there.”

“I know,” I.N. admitted, his jaw tightening. “But if we don’t try, Felix is going to break completely. And if we find a way to bring him back to Chan… then maybe…” He hesitated, his eyes falling, voice softening. “Maybe we can be with our demons again, too.”

Hyunjin’s throat closed instantly. The thought stabbed into him, sharp and sweet. To see Changbin again… to feel his arms, the strength and warmth he carried… Hyunjin blinked hard, fighting back tears. God, how he ached for him.

Jisung bit his lip, his chest clenching with longing. Minho. The thought of his touch, his lips, his teasing smirk. The memory of slow kisses, soft laughter in the dark. His whole body burned at the ache of missing him.

I.N. looked away, his face flushed and wet with silent tears. Seungmin. That smile he’d give only him. The dream of finally touching him, holding him, whispering love into his skin. To make love to him for the first time, to share every hidden desire. His body ached with yearning.

Hyunjin straightened suddenly, determination blazing in his tear-brimmed eyes. “No more waiting. No more excuses. We’re not letting Felix fall apart, and we’re not abandoning them either. We go to the library—now.”

The three of them looked at each other, and for the first time since Felix’s breakdown, a fire sparked in their eyes.

Without another word, they turned and ran through the corridors, hearts pounding, toward the endless halls of the royal library.

Chapter Text

The dungeon smelled of rot and damp stone, its air heavy with mildew and the faint sting of old blood. Chains rattled softly whenever Chan moved—even just to breathe. His body remained kneeling, hunched forward, wrists swollen and raw where iron cut into his skin. His clothes clung to him, still wet from the bucket of soapy water the guards had poured over him hours ago. The sting of the soap burned his cracked skin, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.

Every day his friends came—Changbin, Minho, Seungmin. They slipped past guards with tricks only demons could pull, just to see that he was still alive. And every day ended the same: Chan refusing to eat, his voice weak, hoarse, whispering, “I don’t want it. Take it away.” And Minho, with fury in his eyes and desperation in his chest, forcing food past Chan’s lips, clamping his hand over his jaw until he swallowed. Without the chains, Chan might have fought him off. But bound as he was, he could only choke down bites he didn’t want, each one tasting like ashes.

Chan had stopped living. He existed, nothing more. He dreamed, and dreams were his only mercy. Because in dreams, Felix was still alive. In dreams, his sunshine laughed. In dreams, those swollen, perfect lips kissed him over and over. In dreams, Felix whispered “wolf from hell” against his skin with a smile so sweet it split Chan’s chest open. In dreams, Felix still loved him.

But every time he woke, the nightmare returned. Felix was gone. His angel was dead. And the world was a grave.

Tears streaked down Chan’s hollow face again, hot and endless, falling into the dirt beneath him. His body trembled with exhaustion, and still he wished he could close his eyes and never open them again. If he could just sleep forever, he could stay with Felix.

Then— Footsteps. Not the heavy boots of guards. These steps were sharper, lighter. The cold click of heels echoing against stone. Chan’s body stiffened. His head stayed bowed, but his gut twisted with recognition. He didn’t need to look. He knew who it was. His mother.

The Queen’s perfume lingered faintly in the damp air, strange and out of place here. She walked closer, her gown brushing the filthy floor as if she didn’t notice—or didn’t care.

“Son…” Her voice was soft at first, almost fragile.

Chan raised his head just enough for their eyes to meet, tears still dripping down his face.

The Queen stopped in front of him, her expression caught between sorrow and steel. “Please… stop this. You’ve been down here over a week. Crying over an enemy. Defying your own father. Chained like the lowest filth in the kingdom.” Her voice hardened. “Enough, Chan.”

His cracked lips parted, his voice trembling but raw. “I can’t. I can’t stop. He’s gone. The only thing that mattered—”

“Silence!” Her words cut through him like a whip. She straightened, her face sharp with fury. “Your father forced me to come down here, to try and pull you back into reality. But I see now it’s useless. You’re supposed to be the prince of the underworld. The heir to darkness and power. And yet…” She spat the words. “You fell in love with a wretched angel. How could you? Angels are poison. They rot everything they touch. And I will not watch my son shed a single tear for one of those glittering insects.”

Something inside Chan snapped. His tears burned hotter. His breathing grew ragged. He shook his head, chains clattering violently.

“Go,” he whispered.

“What?”

His eyes lifted fully now, fire blazing in them, voice breaking into a scream. “I SAID GO!!!  LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!”

“Watch your tongue,” the Queen snapped, taken aback. “Is that how you speak to your mother?”

His chest heaved, rage searing through grief, voice guttural, full of venom. “I’ll speak to you the way I expect to find you next time I see you—dead.” His teeth bared, trembling with wrath. “It should’ve been you. It should’ve been you and him. My parents. You both should have died. And Felix—Felix should still be alive.”

The Queen froze. For a heartbeat she looked almost human—shocked, pale, horrified by the words her son had hurled at her.

“GO!” Chan roared again, pulling against his chains until iron bit deeper into his flesh. “Disappear from my life. Let me die, or kill me here and now! Because there’s nothing left. Nothing! I don’t want this fucking world without him!”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands trembling at her sides. For once, the Queen had no answer. Silence stretched between them. Chan glared at her with nothing but hate and despair burning in his chest. His mother—his Queen—turned without another word. She didn’t look back. Her heels clicked sharply against stone until the sound faded into nothing.

And Chan was left alone again, on his knees, chains heavy, the echo of his own scream still vibrating in his skull.

His tears spilled harder now, his sobs shaking his entire body. “Felix…” he whispered, voice hoarse, broken. “Felix, please… please, I can’t… I can’t do this without you…”

The dungeon swallowed his cries, the darkness his only witness.

_________________________________

Felix was vanishing. Every sunrise, a little more of his light faded. His friends whispered it to one another in worried tones when they thought he couldn’t hear: “He’s not glowing anymore… he’s not Felix anymore.”

He hadn’t slept properly in days. At night, nightmares clawed through his dreams, dragging him into empty voids that pressed on his chest until he couldn’t breathe. When he woke, he could never recall the shapes of those nightmares, only the pain. The cold. The absence. The kind of darkness that gnawed at him even after he opened his eyes.

Every day, tears carved lines down his cheeks until his skin was raw. His body had learned to cry without asking for permission. His chest ached with every breath, like his heart was shattering into smaller and smaller pieces each time he inhaled.

And today… today was no different.

Felix sat on the grass of the royal park, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around himself as though trying to hold himself together. The sky above was painted soft pink and golden yellow, but he didn’t see it. His eyes were glassy, red-rimmed, his vision blurred with tears that never stopped coming.

A small squirrel crept toward him, nose twitching, tiny paws reaching as if asking for food. Felix’s lips trembled. He stared at the little creature, and his heart thudded violently against his ribs—too violently, as though it wanted to burst out of his chest and escape. His hand twitched, hovering midair like it knew what to do, like it remembered feeding something, maybe something bigger—but his mind was blank. Nothing came. That blankness was worse than any wound. It was eating him alive.

He tried again, like he did every day, to remember. To reach back into that hollow, to grab whatever it was he had lost. Something, his heart screamed. He had lost something. Something that mattered more than his own existence. But the harder he tried, the emptier it felt, as though some cruel hand had carved out a piece of his soul and left nothing but raw bleeding edges. His tears fell faster, soaking into the grass.

And then— At the far end of the park, two angels strolled hand in hand. A boy and a girl, wings brushing against each other, white feathers tangled like threads of fate. They laughed. They smiled. Their eyes glowed with a kind of warmth Felix couldn’t breathe in without choking. Love.

Felix’s chest seized violently. His heart thrashed in his ribcage, slamming itself against bone as if trying to escape, to abandon him and run back to where it belonged. He pressed a trembling hand against his sternum, gasping as though it might explode. The sight of those angels, the way they looked at each other, was unbearable.

Why did it hurt so much? Why did watching love make him want to collapse?

His vision blurred, tears spilling without end. He couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe.

“Why…” The word broke from his lips in a whisper, shaking. “Why does it hurt so much?”

His knees buckled into the ground. His body shook with sobs that felt like they’d rip him apart from the inside. He clawed at the grass beneath him, desperate for something, anything, to ground him, to stop the storm inside his chest. And then, like lightning, a thought cut through the fog.

What if he hadn’t lost something? What if he had lost someone? The sob that tore from Felix’s throat was raw, ragged, devastating. His lungs stuttered against the weight pressing down on him, his body folding over as he clutched himself tighter, shaking uncontrollably.

Maybe it wasn’t an object, not some forgotten trinket or moment. Maybe it was a person. The most important person he had ever had in his life. The only one who could have left a wound this deep, this unbearable. But who? Who was missing from his soul?

The tears blurred everything until the park dissolved into a wash of light and shadow. His sobs echoed across the garden, filling the air with raw, broken music. The squirrel fled, frightened. The couple of angels turned their heads for only a moment before continuing their walk, their wings brushing as if nothing in the world could tear them apart.

Felix felt like he was dying. He pressed his face into his arms, his body convulsing with grief he couldn’t understand. His skin was cold, his wings heavy and lifeless at his back. His light was dimming, flickering like a candle about to be extinguished.

“I’ve lost someone,” he whispered to no one, choking on the words. “Someone so important. The most important thing I’ve ever had. And I can’t—” His voice broke into a sob. “I can’t find it… I can’t find it…”

His tears soaked through his sleeves. His whole body ached. His soul screamed. And there, on the grass of Heaven’s park, under the radiant sky, the angel prince wept until there was nothing left but silence and the hollow, echoing emptiness inside him.

__________________________________

The library was a world in itself—an endless cathedral of books stacked so high the upper shelves vanished into the heavens. Four days. Four endless, exhausting days. Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N. were buried in piles of scrolls and ancient volumes, their wings dusted with parchment flakes, their fingers ink-stained from flipping fragile pages.

The scale was crushing. Even after combing through what must have been five million books, I.N. calculated they hadn’t touched even three percent of the total. Every aisle stretched into infinity, every row another mountain of forgotten words.

Jisung slammed a book shut, his shoulders sagging as he buried his face in his hands.
“This is impossible,” he muttered, voice raw. “We’re never going to find it. The prophecy doesn’t exist. Or if it does, it’s mocking us. Hiding.”

Hyunjin, though equally drained, didn’t stop. His long fingers skimmed spines, eyes darting from title to title, refusing to rest. His voice was hoarse but steady.
“No. Don’t lose hope. We have to keep going. Felix and Chan—” His throat tightened at the sound of their names together. “They need us. We have to bring them back to each other.”

I.N. closed a book softly, pressing it to his lap, his eyes glistening. “They deserve better. Both of them. Felix and Chan showed us something no one ever dared to dream of. That an angel and a demon could look at each other and see not hatred, not history, but love. Real love.”

Hyunjin looked between them, his jaw tightening. “Can you imagine how Chan must be feeling right now? Felix is gone in his world. For all the demons, Felix is dead. They don’t know about the temporary death venom.”

Silence fell. The three of them stopped moving. Even the air felt heavier, dust motes hanging motionless in the golden shafts of light.

Jisung’s voice broke through the silence, tentative and desperate. “Couldn’t we go to the underworld in secret? Just once. To see the others. To tell them?”

I.N. shook his head immediately. “Unfortunately not… Only the royal blood can open portals between realms. The King, the princes, the princesses... and the mythical beings. We don’t have that power….”

“Then why,” Jisung whispered, his eyes wide with fear, “why hasn’t Chan opened a portal himself? More than two weeks, and nothing. Not a message. Not a signal. Nothing.”

Hyunjin’s hands curled into fists. His voice came out hollow. “What if… what if the King punished him? For loving Felix. What if—” He swallowed hard, the words cutting his throat. “What if he’s already dead?”

“NOO!!! Never ever say that!” I.N. and Jisung’s voices overlapped, sharp and panicked. They shook their heads violently, tears shining in their eyes. “No. That can’t be. Chan can’t be dead. He and Felix have to—”

The sentence broke, but the air carried the rest.

I.N. whispered, voice trembling like a prayer: “have their happy ending…”

The word silenced the library.

Hyunjin turned toward him, his lips trembling, regret shadowing his features. “Do you remember after the first trial, when Felix confessed he’d fallen for Chan? I told him he was foolish. That it was impossible.” His voice cracked, guilt choking him. “And he just… he looked at me with those wide eyes, so full of hope. I crushed that. I hurt him when all he wanted was to share his heart.”

I.N.’s throat closed as tears fell. “I remember too. I told him he’d lost his mind. I told him Chan would never feel the same, that he was building dreams out of smoke. But I was wrong. God, I was so wrong.”

Jisung’s head bowed low, his voice rough. “I think about how they looked at each other. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once. Like they recognized something we couldn’t see. Like the universe had carved them out of the same piece of light and shadow and was just waiting for them to find each other again.”

Hyunjin’s voice softened, full of awe. “That’s what soulmates are. Not a choice. Not luck. A force. Something older than us, older than Heaven or Hell. Felix isn’t Felix without Chan. Chan isn’t Chan without Felix. They’re… fragments of the same soul, just born in different worlds.”

“And when they’re together,” I.N. whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek, “it’s like the universe exhales. Like for one moment, everything broken finally makes sense. That’s what it means to be destined. That’s what it means to be whole.”

Jisung let out a shaky laugh, though tears streamed down his face. “Do you remember the way Felix would light up when Chan teased him? Or how Chan would shield him, like he’d fight the entire underworld just to protect him? That’s not just love. That’s survival. That’s soul recognizing soul.”

I.N.’s voice shook as he said, “Imagine what the world could be if they stood together. A demon prince and a prince angel, side by side. The hatred between realms—gone. Peace, because their love made it undeniable that we belong together.”

Hyunjin nodded, eyes burning with conviction. “If they reign together, the war ends. Heaven and the underworld won’t matter anymore. Only them. Only love.”

Silence pressed on them, each angel lost in the vision of what could be. Felix’s laugh, Chan’s steady hands, their fingers intertwined as if made for nothing else. It was too beautiful, too powerful.

And then it happened. A soft glow, faint at first, bloomed from the mountain of books beside them. Their breath caught. The glow strengthened, piercing through the dust, bathing their faces in silver light. The three of them froze.

Jisung pointed with a trembling hand. “Did you see that? That—”

The glow pulsed stronger, one book radiating like a star amidst shadows.

I.N. scrambled forward, his chest heaving. His fingers closed around the glowing cover, and the instant he touched it, something inside him knew. His body trembled violently as tears burst free, and he clutched the book to his chest like it was sacred.
“It’s this,” he sobbed. “OH MY GOD! This is it!!!…. We found it!!! Oh my god! Oh my god!! I remember now!! Ashes and Halos.” He said reading the cover.

The cover shimmered in black and white, light and darkness entwined in its script, as if it was born from the very souls of Felix and Chan themselves. Hyunjin and Jisung fell to their knees beside him, arms wrapping around one another in disbelief and joy.

Jisung laughed breathlessly through tears. “Wait—hold on. That pile—” His hand shook as he pointed. “That’s the one I already checked. I swear, that book wasn’t there before.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, his voice breaking with awe. “Maybe… maybe it was waiting for us. Waiting for the moment we stopped searching with our eyes… and started searching with our hearts. When we showed it that we believe in them. That we love them.”

The book blazed brighter, the light wrapping around them like a blessing. And for the first time in weeks, hope did not feel impossible.

___________________________________

The days blurred together in the darkness of the dungeons. Time had no meaning anymore—just the constant dripping of water echoing in the distance, the stench of damp stone and rusted chains, and the silence broken only by his own ragged breathing.

Chan’s body was failing. His wrists were rubbed raw, the iron cuffs cutting into his skin, leaving angry welts that stung with every movement. His knees were bruised from being pressed against the cold stone floor for so long. The weight of the chains made his body bow forward, his chin resting against his chest, his hair clinging to his damp face. His lips were cracked. His voice, when it came at all, was only a whisper. But none of it mattered.

Because all he saw—all he could ever see—was Felix. Everywhere. In the way the flickering torchlight made the shadows dance across the walls—he swore he saw Felix’s smile hidden there, teasing him, lips curving with that playful glint. In the silence, he heard the echoes of Felix’s laugh, soft and bright, filling this place that reeked only of despair.

Chan smiled, a weak, delirious curve of his lips. He could almost hear Felix whispering, “my demon” the way he used to, mischievous and tender at once. The word that used to make Chan’s heart race with equal parts affection and longing.

But the smile broke into tears almost instantly. Because it wasn’t real. None of it was real. His sunshine was gone. His chest ached constantly now, a hollow pain that grew heavier every hour, every breath. Sometimes it hurt so much he thought his ribs would crack from the pressure, as if his body was rejecting the idea of living in a world where Felix did not exist.

He had stopped eating. Every time Minho forced the food past his lips, Chan gagged. He wanted to spit it out, but the chains held him too weak to fight. His body trembled from hunger, but his soul didn’t want nourishment. What was the point of surviving when Felix wasn’t here to laugh at him, to scold him, to love him?

Even breathing had become an act of betrayal. Every inhale tasted like ashes. Every exhale felt like stealing time he didn’t deserve. His breaths were shallow, slower each day, as though his body was already surrendering to the inevitable. And part of him welcomed it.

Death didn’t scare him anymore. Because death meant Felix. If he let go, if he allowed the darkness to take him, maybe—just maybe—he would open his eyes and see those blue stars again. Maybe he would feel Felix’s skin beneath his lips, hear his soft gasp when Chan kissed the corner of his mouth, trace that constellation of a boy who had made his life worth living. The thought was a drug, a cruel comfort. It made him smile through tears, delirious, broken.

“Felix…” The name slipped from his lips like a prayer, like the last thread he clung to. His voice was so weak it cracked. “My sunshine…” The tears came harder, shaking his body as he whispered, “I’m coming. I promise. Just… wait for me.”

He wanted to scream, but he had no strength left for rage. All he had was this grief, this unbearable emptiness clawing at him from the inside, bleeding him dry. The torchlight blurred. His vision swam. His heart beat slower, heavier, like it, too, was tired of carrying the weight of a love now severed by death. And still, even in this crumbling state, his mind betrayed him with memories.

The feel of Felix’s fingers threading through his hair when he fell asleep on his chest. The way Felix’s lips brushed against his jaw when he was too shy to kiss him straight on the mouth. The way his freckles sparkled like galaxies—galaxies Chan would never map again. The dungeon disappeared around him. Only Felix remained.

Chan’s tears dripped onto the stone floor, pooling beneath him. His entire body shuddered as his breath slowed further, weaker, shallower, until he thought this might be it. That he would finally, finally be free from this hell.

And in that moment, with the world slipping further from his grasp, he smiled faintly. Because if the end was near, then so was Felix. And that was all he had ever wanted.

_________________________________

I.N. hadn’t moved from his bed in almost twenty-four hours. His hands were trembling from the weight of the book, his eyes red from exhaustion, but he refused to let go. The prophecy was their only thread, their only hope to fix what had been broken. Every word on those pages carried the lives of two souls—and perhaps the fate of both Heaven and the Underworld.

When the door creaked open, I.N. blinked, momentarily startled. Hyunjin and Jisung stepped inside, both looking worn and pale. They didn’t need to speak for I.N. to know where they had been: Felix’s room. He could see the dried salt on Jisung’s cheeks, the way Hyunjin’s fingers shook as though still carrying the weight of Felix’s trembling body.

They climbed onto the bed beside him, crowding together in the dim light of the lamp. For a long moment, none of them spoke. They just breathed in unison, three hearts heavy with the same grief. Finally, I.N. set the book down on his lap, his fingers brushing the black-and-white cover as though it were holy.

“There’s something strange,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “The last pages… they’re empty. Completely blank. But up until that point…” He paused, his throat tightening with both fear and wonder. “Up until then, Felix and Chan are destined to meet again.”

Hyunjin’s breath caught. Jisung’s eyes widened with desperate hope.

“We have to help them,” I.N. said, and for the first time in days, he smiled—a trembling, fragile thing that held both fire and fear.

The three leaned into each other, arms wrapping tight, a silent vow stitched between their breaths. No matter the cost, no matter the danger, they would bring their friends back together. I.N. turned the pages slowly, his voice trembling as he read aloud.

“The angel will die in trial, giving his life for the one he loves. Yet he will awaken from a dream of confusion, his mind clouded, his heart hollowed. But from the shadows of loss, memory shall rise again…”

He looked up, tears welling in his eyes. “It’s Felix. It has to be. The dream of confusion—it means this memory loss. He isn’t gone. Not really. His memories are still inside him.”

Jisung’s voice cracked. “Then how? How do we bring them back?”

I.N. turned the page with trembling fingers. His eyes skimmed the line and widened. His breath hitched.

“He will awaken fully with the kiss of the purest love.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Hyunjin’s lips parted, his heartbeat hammering in his chest. Jisung leaned forward, unable to contain himself. “So it’s simple. We just take Felix to Chan, Chan kisses him, and everything is fixed. Done. End of story.”

Hyunjin’s brow furrowed. He shook his head slowly. “No. It’s not that easy.” His voice was firm, even though his own heart yearned for it to be true. “If Chan kisses him, it’s the same as declaring that he’s the one Felix loved. The celestial healer’s curse isn’t just about erasing memories. It’s about protecting the truth. If that truth is forced onto Felix…” Hyunjin’s voice broke, “Chan will turn to dust before his lips even leave Felix’s.”

The air froze around them.

I.N.’s hands gripped the book tightly. His knuckles turned white. “You’re right,” he whispered. His voice was so quiet it was almost a sob. “The kiss has to come from Felix. It has to be his choice. His soul reaching out for Chan’s, not the other way around.”

Jisung’s face fell, his eyes flooding. “But how?” His voice cracked with desperation. “He doesn’t remember him. If Felix saw Chan now, all he’d see is a demon. Just another monster the king has told him to hate. How is he supposed to feel enough to…” He couldn’t finish. His throat closed around the words.

The three sat in silence, their pain heavy enough to drown in.

Hyunjin lifted his eyes slowly, a spark igniting in the shadows of his grief. “Then we need help,” he said firmly. “We can’t do this alone.”

I.N. tilted his head. “Help from who?”

Hyunjin swallowed, his wings twitching with nerves. “The demons. Changbin, Minho and Seungmin. They love Felix almost as much as Chan does. They’ll do anything to bring them back together. And they know him better than anyone. If anyone can help Felix see, it’s them.”

I.N.’s lips parted. He nodded slowly, his pulse racing. “You’re right.” His voice was breathless, filled with both terror and hope.

“But…” Jisung frowned, wiping his eyes. “How? We can’t open portals. Only the royals can. Only kings, queens, and their bloodline.”

I.N. exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Then how the hell do we—”

“Wait.” Hyunjin’s eyes widened suddenly. His entire body stiffened as the thought struck. “I’ve got it.”

Both Jisung and I.N. looked at him with wide, desperate eyes.

“The royals and mythical beings can cross worlds, right? Well…” He leaned forward, fire flickering in his eyes. “What about a phoenix? Ancient times, angels used doves to send messages across realms. A phoenix is the same, only stronger. It’s a creature of myth, born from fire and ash. It can cross boundaries no one else can. If we tied a letter to its leg…”

Jisung’s jaw dropped. I.N. gasped, his hand flying to his mouth.

“Hyunjin…” I.N. whispered, tears streaming as hope burst alive inside him. He launched forward, pressing a sudden kiss to Hyunjin’s cheek. “I swear, I adore your brain sometimes.”

Hyunjin flushed, his lips trembling with the tiniest ghost of a smile.

Jisung, already sniffling, leapt to his feet and grabbed a sheet of pink paper from I.N.’s desk. His hand shook as he snatched up a pen. “Perfect. Tell me what to write. Tell me now. We can’t waste another second.”

The three huddled close together, their wings brushing, their hands trembling as they crafted the words that might change everything.

Hours passed, the night stretching deep into the endless glow of the celestial kingdom. Candles burned low. The three of them agonized over every sentence, every phrase. What could they say without revealing everything?— in case the letter was intercepted. 

Jisung’s hand cramped from writing and rewriting, tearing the paper again and again. Hyunjin’s voice cracked from arguing over words that felt either too cold or too revealing. I.N. stared at the prophecy over and over, searching for guidance between the cryptic lines.

At last, they had something. A letter sealed with trembling hands, carrying their hope, their fear, their desperate plea.

I.N. cupped the folded paper to his chest, closing his eyes. He whispered into the silence, almost like a prayer: “Please, please let them see it. Please let them help us.”

Hyunjin stood at the window, wings glowing faintly under the moonlight. He extended his hand into the night, calling softly. The air shimmered, warm and bright, until feathers of fire burst into existence. A phoenix landed on the sill, its plumage a blaze of crimson and gold. Its eyes burned with intelligence, with loyalty to the angels of old. The three friends stared, breathless.

“Beautiful,” Jisung whispered.

Hyunjin tied the letter gently to the creature’s leg, his fingers trembling as he whispered their hope into its feathers. The phoenix tilted its head, as if understanding the burden it carried.

“Take it to them,” Hyunjin breathed. “Find the demons. Find Chan’s friends. Deliver this. Please.”

The phoenix spread its fiery wings, the heat making their skin prickle. With one final cry—a sound like a flame roaring alive—it leapt into the sky, vanishing into the night. The three angels remained frozen at the window, staring into the emptiness where it had disappeared. For a long time, no one spoke.

Then I.N. whispered, voice cracking with tears: “Now all we can do is wait.”

Hyunjin wrapped his arm around him. Jisung pressed his forehead to their shoulders. And together, they clung to each other, praying silently that their gamble would not fail. Because if it did… then both Felix and Chan would be lost forever.

___________________________________

The air in the Underworld palace felt heavier with every passing day. Changbin, Minho, and Seungmin sat in silence in the war room, the only sound the crackle of distant fire torches echoing through the stone halls. Their faces carried the same exhaustion, the same helplessness, the same grief.

They had tried everything. Talking. Begging. Yelling. Forcing food into Chan’s mouth only for him to spit it out or choke against it. Nothing worked. He was vanishing before their eyes, slipping further into the abyss of despair with every hour.

Changbin slammed his fist against the table, his voice breaking. “The only thing that could save him now… is if Felix appeared in front of him. If Felix just… walked in. That’s the only thing that could bring him back.”

Seungmin lowered his gaze, his voice heavy and small. “But that’s impossible. That little angel… that smile… he’s been gone for almost a month now.”

Silence. The kind that suffocated. The kind that burned. Minho pushed away from the table, unable to bear the weight pressing down on him. He walked to the balcony, throwing the heavy iron doors open. The air outside was sharp, carrying with it the bitter scent of sulfur and smoke. He leaned forward, hoping, praying that maybe—just maybe—the wind could clear his mind.

But then… a sound. A strange, impossible sound. Something between a trill and a roar, echoing across the dark skies of the Underworld.

Minho’s head snapped upward. His eyes widened. Fire blazed across the sky—alive, radiant, unlike anything that belonged in their world. His breath caught. “What the hell…”

Behind him, the sudden cry pulled Changbin and Seungmin onto the balcony. The three of them froze as the creature descended. Wings of fire. Feathers that burned but did not consume. Eyes sharp, molten gold. A phoenix.

Minho’s jaw went slack. “That’s… that’s not possible. Phoenixes belong to Heaven. They don’t—”

But the creature wasn’t a mirage. It circled once, twice, before swooping down gracefully. It landed directly before them, talons curling against the stone of the balcony, flames licking harmlessly against the night.

Changbin’s heart hammered. “Holy shit…” His eyes widened further as he noticed something glinting against its leg. “Wait. Is that—?”

Minho stepped closer, stunned by the sheer beauty of the beast. His gaze fell to the paper tied around its claw. His heart skipped. A pink sheet. Definitely not from the Underworld. Definitely not from demons.

“This is from the angels,” he whispered, his hands trembling as he untied the parchment.

The moment the paper slipped free, the phoenix lifted its head, let out a haunting cry, and then—burst into flames. Fire engulfed its body until nothing but ash rained softly onto the balcony, carried away by the wind.

Changbin blinked, utterly enchanted. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. I want one. I need this creature.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes even through his racing pulse. “Sure. Ask Hyunjin to adopt one with you when you buy your first house.”

At the name, Changbin’s chest tightened. Hyunjin. His angel. Almost a month since he’d last held him, kissed him, touched him. The ache nearly doubled him over.

But Minho’s voice cut sharply through his haze. His tone was trembling, breathless, filled with disbelief.

“Oh… my… fucking… God.”

Both Changbin and Seungmin snapped their eyes toward him. Minho was staring at the letter, his face pale, his entire body shaking.

“What?” Changbin demanded, stepping forward.

But Minho didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His eyes alone carried everything. And then—without hesitation—the three of them were running. Down the endless stairs, through the dim corridors, their boots hammering against the stone floor. They didn’t stop when they reached the dungeons, didn’t falter when they saw the two guards posted outside Chan’s cell. Minho didn’t even hesitate. A flick of his wrist, a sprinkle of sleep dust—and within seconds, the guards slumped against the walls, snoring peacefully as if they had chosen to nap.

The demons pushed past them, bursting into the cell. And there he was. Chan.

Kneeling, as always. His wrists still chained, raw and bloody from weeks of struggling. His body soaked in filth, his clothes clinging to him. His chest rose and fell so faintly it was almost invisible. Tears still streamed from his eyes even as his head hung low, as if even unconscious, his body refused to stop crying.

He was fading. Dying. His breaths were shallow, his lips pale, his eyes glassy and far away. He looked like he had already let go, like the last threads holding him to the world were slipping.

“Chan…” Seungmin whispered, voice breaking. His throat ached at the sight of him, at the way their prince had been reduced to nothing but a ghost of himself.

Changbin pressed his fist against his mouth to stop his sob. "Fuck... Chan...."

But Minho stepped forward. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t let another second pass. His voice cracked, desperate, raw as he shouted:

“Chan—listen to me. FELIX IS ALIVE. Your angel didn’t die.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air, suspended like fragile glass.

And then— Chan’s head snapped up. His eyes widened, bloodshot and trembling, as if the chains that bound his soul had just cracked. His chest convulsed. A sob tore from him, choked and broken. Alive. Felix. Alive.

His heart, which had been slowing, decaying, nearly stilled—suddenly jolted. Beating again. Harder. Faster. So violently it shook his entire body. Tears streamed down his face in torrents as his lips parted soundlessly, too weak to form words but desperate to believe. His friends rushed closer, kneeling before him, their own eyes wet.

Felix was alive.

Chapter Text

“Chan—listen to me. FELIX IS ALIVE. Your angel didn’t die.”

The words slammed into his chest like thunder. His lungs stuttered. His heart—once slow, decaying—exploded into motion so violently that his whole ribcage ached. Felix. His Felix. Alive? Not gone?

His breath caught. His mind spun wildly. I’ll see his face again? His freckles, that constellation across his nose I memorized a thousand times? His lips—so soft, so warm—that smiled against mine? His laugh, his teasing voice? I’ll touch him again? I’ll hold him?

But then doubt carved into him like a blade. His throat burned as he whispered, voice hoarse and fragile:

“How… how can I believe you?”

Minho didn’t hesitate. He held up the folded parchment—pink, soft, delicate. Chan’s eyes widened instantly. That color. That texture. Impossible in the Underworld. No craftsman in Hell could ever produce something so pure, so whimsical, so pink, so… Heavenly.

It was real. Chan’s lips trembled. He closed his eyes, exhaling a long, broken sigh. For the first time in weeks, it wasn’t despair. It was relief. It was happiness.

Felix. Alive. His sunshine.

Seungmin crouched low, retrieving the tray from the corner. The untouched plate of meat, rice, and the jug of water. He set it before Chan gently, his voice firm but warm.

“Eat this. All of it. Every bite. If you do, Minho will read you the whole letter. For now, I can tell you this—Felix is alive. Alive and fighting. But if you want the full reading, you need your strength back. No more wasting away.”

For the first time, Chan didn’t resist. Didn’t fight. Didn’t spit. His lips parted willingly. Seungmin nearly broke into tears at the sight. Carefully, piece by piece, he fed him.

The taste was almost foreign to Chan’s tongue. His stomach clenched painfully at the sudden intake—after weeks of starvation, it was a shock. His body had grown frail, bones sharp against his skin, weight stripped away until he was nearly unrecognizable. But he forced himself. Bite after bite. Sip after sip. Because Felix was alive.

And for Felix, he would live. By the time the tray was empty, Chan slumped back against the wall, exhausted but… lighter. His chest rising fuller, his breath stronger. His eyes lifted to Minho.

“Read it,” he whispered. His hands trembled. “Please.”

Minho nodded. His fingers unfolded the parchment, and then his voice filled the dungeon.

To the Wolf and the hot perverts,

We miss you. We miss you more than words on a page can carry. Every day feels heavier without the fire in your laughter, without your strength to balance our madness. The clever and shy butterfly misses her sharp-tongued pervert. The playful beautiful one longs for his strong pervert. And the small one… he dreams of his pervert with eyes that could slice steel. We ache for you. For all of you—our hot perverts who once made even the darkest moments feel light.

But listen closely, Wolf. The firefly with freckles still burns. He never died. Forgive the cruel play we had to stage, but it was the only path left. He drank a venom of temporary death, a poison that stilled his body long enough to slip free of the trial’s claws. He did it for you. Always for you.

When he woke again, his light had been stolen. Not by choice—forced upon him.  His own blood, furious at the lengths the firefly went to for his wolf, forced a healer to strip him of his memories. He wanders now with empty hands and an emptier heart, searching for something he cannot name. Each day he cries, clutching shadows, begging for what has been taken. His light is fading, Wolf. If he loses it completely, there will be no bringing him back.

We cannot tell him. We cannot show him. Every attempt to guide him is choked before it can be born. The weight of this silence is killing us as surely as it is killing him. That is why you must come. Only you can bring him back to himself. Only you can give him the truth.

We’ve found the old children’s book—the one the clever butterfly spoke of. Its pages are not games, not stories. Every word carries more. It speaks of them. Of what the two of you are meant to become. We read and read, but much remains veiled. Still, one thing is clear: it speaks of the wolf and the firefly. Of love written before time. Of two halves that cannot survive without the other.

It says: “In the shadow of the Blood moon, the world will be given a gift, endless in its peace.” We believe this is your path.  And so we beg you: survive. You must be brought to the clearing of the moon. The clearing will be the key, the place where all paths cross.

Until then, hear this: every night at 11, we will wait. At the rear of the firefly’s palace, just outside the walls. We will be there without fail, every single night, until the portal opens. We will not abandon you. We cannot.

Because butterflies and hot perverts were never meant to be torn apart. Because the firefly with freckles and his wolf are not just love. They are soulmates. They are truth. They are the only kind of forever that exists.

Hold on, Wolf. The world is waiting for you both.

—The Butterflies

Chan’s tears spilled faster with every word Minho read from the pink letter. His chest ached, but for the first time in weeks, it was not from despair—it was from a fragile, burning hope. Felix. His firefly with freckles. He wasn’t gone. He hadn’t died. He was alive. Breathing the same air, walking the same world as him.

Chan’s hands trembled against the cold chains, his body still weak, but his heart—his heart was pounding like it wanted to break free from his ribs. “He’s alive…” he whispered through sobs, his voice cracking with disbelief. “My Felix… my firefly. He didn’t die.” His head fell back against the wall as relief poured over him, violent and overwhelming.

But then came the words that burned like acid—his father. That monster had erased Felix’s memories, stolen every shared moment, every kiss, every whispered confession. Chan’s tears turned from relief into a mix of fury and determination. His voice shook, but it carried a fire he hadn’t felt in weeks:

“He may have taken Felix’s memories… but I’ll give them back. I’ll remind him of every second, every smile, every kiss. Even if it’s the last thing I do in this life, I’ll bring him back to me. I have to.”

He looked at his friends, chest heaving, eyes glistening with tears but burning with resolve. “I have to hold him again. I have to kiss him. I have to tell him I love him.”

When Minho read the line about the clearing of the moon, Chan frowned, confused. “What does that mean? Where… where is that?”

Changbin leaned closer, lowering his voice as if the stones themselves might be listening. “I think it means the forest. The clearing where you kept Lunarys. Luna means moon in Spanish. The place where the house was built under the orders of Princess Jennie and Princess Rosé. That has to be it.”

Chan blinked, his mind racing, but before he could speak again, another thought pressed forward. “And this… this book they’re talking about. What is it? What do they mean?” His voice carried both desperation and frustration. “I’m the only one who doesn’t know.”

The three demons exchanged looks, silent but full of understanding. Finally, Minho reached forward and rested a hand on Chan’s shoulder. “We’ll tell you, hyung. I promise. But not yet. First, you need your strength back. You’ve been starving yourself for weeks. Right now, the only thing that matters is eating, regaining your energy, and getting out of here. Once we’re safe, once we’ve escaped… then you’ll hear everything. Every word.”

Chan swallowed hard, his throat raw with emotion, but he nodded. His voice was hoarse but firm. “Alright. Then I promise you this—I’ll eat. I’ll eat every meal the guards bring me. Three times a day. No more refusing. Give me a few days, and I’ll be ready. Ready to run. Ready to fight. Ready to find him.”

A small, proud smile tugged at Seungmin’s lips. Changbin leaned back with relief, shaking his head. “Good. That’s what we needed to hear. And while you eat, we’ll work on a way to break these chains and figure out our escape route. No one will see us coming.”

Chan’s eyes softened, and then he added, voice thick with emotion, “But when we leave… we take Lunarys. I can’t abandon her here. She’s my family too.”

Changbin didn’t even hesitate. He smiled faintly, eyes warm. “Of course. We counted on her from the very beginning. She’s part of this plan as much as any of us.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Chan’s heart wasn’t weighed down by despair. It was beating—truly beating—strong, alive, and full of fire. His cheeks were still wet with tears, but a fragile smile curved his lips. He could almost see Felix’s freckles in his mind, feel the warmth of his golden hair against his skin.

The wolf was alive again. And nothing—not chains, not curses, not kings—would stop him from finding his firefly.

_________________________________

The sunlight in Heaven was soft that day, painted in hues of pale gold and pink, but for Felix, it felt heavy—too heavy. His friends had practically dragged him outside, dressing him, smoothing his golden hair, coaxing him with gentle words until he gave in. He didn’t want this. He wanted the safety of his bed, the comfort of burying his face in pillows while his tears carved endless rivers down his cheeks. But here he was, in the gardens outside the castle, walking among the roses, while his heart carried the same void that never healed.

Hyunjin, Jisung, and I.N. kept talking, their voices rising and falling with laughter now and then, though it was forced, a brittle imitation of joy. Felix walked in silence, steps slow, dragging, as though every movement stole what little strength he had left. Eventually, he lowered himself onto the grass, staring at the horizon with eyes that had lost almost all their light. His friends sat down with him, forming a quiet circle.

Hyunjin broke the silence first. “Felix… are you feeling alright?” His voice was soft, cautious.

Felix nodded faintly, though his lips barely moved. “I’m just thinking.” His voice was hoarse, as though it had fought through endless nights of crying.

The three exchanged a worried glance. Felix rarely said more than a handful of words lately. But then he continued, surprising them.

“This morning my mother came to see me. She said it’s time I look for someone… someone to love. An angel who can stand by me, someone to build a family with. Someone who will be there if… if something happens to them during this war with the demons.”

The word hung in the air like an arrow that struck each of their hearts. Demon. It was the first time Felix had spoken it since waking from his false death. Hyunjin’s chest tightened. Jisung’s mouth fell open. I.N. froze.

“What… what do you think of demons?” Jisung asked carefully.

Felix turned his face to them, eyes narrowing slightly. “What am I supposed to think? They’re disgusting. The underworld should never have existed. Because of them, Heaven is preparing for war. Because of them, everything is falling apart.”

His friends said nothing. They couldn’t. Their throats closed up with pain. If only he knew. If only he remembered the demon who was his other half, who had already given him more love than he could ever imagine.

Felix’s gaze dropped to the grass, and his shoulders trembled. “Maybe my mother’s right. Maybe if I find someone, the emptiness will finally disappear.” His lips quivered as tears welled again. “I want to stop crying. I want to stop feeling like this. I’m tired.”

Jisung bit his lip, his heart breaking. Felix went on, almost in a whisper.

“I want to have my first kiss soon. I want to make love for the first time.”

The three froze, exchanging shocked looks. Their throats went dry. If only he remembered—that both had already happened, with the love of his life.

I.N. leaned closer. “Felix… how do you imagine it? Your first kiss?”

A faint smile broke through Felix’s tears. He closed his eyes for a second, as though conjuring a dream. “It’ll be with my future husband. The father of my children. He’ll be strong, with a smile that melts my heart every time I see it. He’ll be someone who would give his life for me without a second thought.”

The three angels stared at him, silent but shattered inside. He was describing Chan. Every word, every image—it was him. Except for the part about children, which they knew couldn’t happen by blood due to they were different species, but adoption was always possible. The rest… it was Chan, through and through.

Hyunjin forced a smile, brushing a lock of Felix’s hair behind his ear, wiping at his wet cheeks with his thumb. “And… how do you imagine your first time?”

Felix’s cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t look away. His voice trembled as he spoke, yet his words carried so much longing it made the others ache. “I imagine it… filled with love. After time, when I’m ready, and he’s waited patiently for me. I’ll give him my body and my life, completely. Our wings will wrap around one another. Our lips, our hands, our bodies will touch with nothing but devotion. And I know… it’ll be with someone powerful, someone who takes the lead, a top. Even though I’m the bottom, he’ll treat me as if I’m the most delicate, fragile thing in the world. He’ll treasure me.”

The three friends looked at one another, hearts pounding. It was Chan. Even without remembering him, Felix’s soul spoke the truth. His words painted Chan perfectly—his alpha, his wolf, his protector, his lover. And Felix didn’t know. He didn’t remember.

Hyunjin’s chest hurt as he looked at him, at the broken angel who still carried love for his soulmate deep in his bones, even if his mind had been robbed of it.

_________________________________

The air in the dungeon felt heavier than usual, damp stone walls seeping with rot and hopelessness. The same place where Chan had wasted away for nearly a month—his own personal graveyard. But today was different. Today, when Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin slipped quietly past the dozing guards, what they found inside wasn’t the broken shell of a prince drowning in tears and silence.

It was Chan—backlit by the faint torchlight, his face leaner than ever, his eyes tired but shining with something his friends hadn’t seen in weeks. Fire. Not literal fire—not yet—but the fire of a heart that refused to die.

“Prince…” Changbin whispered as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “You’re… smiling.”

Chan’s lips tugged weakly upward at the sound of Felix’s name echoing in his head. Smiling had felt impossible just days ago, but now—even through the pain in his body, the weakness in his limbs—he couldn’t stop it. His angel was alive. Alive. That knowledge fueled him more than any meal ever could.

But when Chan noticed their faces dimming with unease, his heartbeat stumbled. “What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

The demons exchanged glances before Seungmin finally sighed, stepping forward. “We’ve been trying, hyung. For days. We read every spell, every weapon, every trick. But these chains… they don’t break. Not unless it’s the King’s fire or an explosion strong enough to shatter them. And neither of those are exactly in reach.”

Chan’s fleeting smile faltered, his jaw tightening. He looked down at the iron shackles biting into his flesh, the weight that had bruised his bones and pinned his spirit. A month of rotting, waiting, praying. And now this?

“I’ll try,” he said firmly, lifting his chin. “I’ll use my own fire.”

Seungmin frowned. “You’ve tried before—”

“No.” Chan’s voice cut sharp, final. “Back then I didn’t know who I was. But at the last trial… I learned. I am his son. The King’s son. Fire runs in my blood. If his flame can do it, mine should too.”

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and summoned everything inside him. Felix’s laugh. Felix’s freckles. The taste of Felix’s lips when they first kissed. The way his firefly’s eyes glowed when whispering “I love you.”

His right hand sparked. Then glowed. Then burned. A flame roared to life, licking at his palm, vibrant and alive. He aimed it at the shackles on his right ankle and released it with a guttural growl. The flame hit metal—then fizzled. Nothing.

“Fuck!” Chan snarled, breathing hard. The fire had seared his skin but done nothing to the chain.

Minho cursed under his breath, pacing the cell. Changbin rammed a heavy stool against the chain with all his strength, the wood splintering uselessly against the enchanted iron. Seungmin kicked at the wall in frustration. Nothing worked.

“Why don’t you just tell your father you’ve changed your mind?” Seungmin blurted suddenly, his voice sharp. “Tell him you hate the angel, that you regret it all, and he’ll let you out. He wants you to be his heir—”

Chan’s eyes snapped up, blazing with fury. “Do you think I’d ever beg that bastard for mercy? He threw me in here like an animal because I loved. Because I felt. He’s not my father—he’s a tyrant wearing a crown. I will not crawl to him. I’d rather die in chains.”

The finality in his tone silenced the others. For a moment, hopelessness threatened to choke the air. Then Chan froze. His gaze flicked to his wrist. His breath caught.

“Felix…” he whispered.

Changbin blinked. “What about Felix? You’ll see him soon, but first—”

“No. I mean Felix gave me something. On Christmas. This bracelet…” He lifted his wrist, showing the woven cord decorated with small stones—white and black. Most people would mistake them for trinkets, but Chan remembered every word Felix had spoken when he gifted it.

‘And the best thing about these little rocks is that they’re like explosive grenades. They contain an active ingredient that can make them explode.’

His heart thundered. His angel had given him freedom, hidden in plain sight.

“These rocks—they’re from his kingdom. The black ones… they explode. Maybe… maybe this is it.”

The demons’ eyes widened. Hope lit their faces for the first time that night. Minho didn’t waste a second. He unclasped the bracelet from Chan’s weak wrist, carefully breaking it apart until the tiny stones scattered across the dirty floor. He plucked one of the black ones and placed it against the shackle around Chan’s wrist.

Chan exhaled shakily, closing his eyes again. He thought of Felix’s voice whispering “Merry Christmas.” The way his angel had smiled shyly when tying the bracelet around his wrist. The way Felix always gave a piece of himself in every gift. They way they kissed that day while flying on the dragon.

His palm ignited again. This time, the flame roared stronger, hotter, fed by the pulse of love in his chest. He pressed the fire against the black stone. At first—nothing. Then the rock began to glow. Faintly. Then brighter. Brighter. Until the heat was unbearable.

“Back!” Chan growled. His friends scrambled away.

The explosion was deafening. White-hot light filled the cell, smoke bursting into the air. Chan’s scream tore through the dungeon as his wrist burned, flesh blistering, the scent of scorched skin filling his nose. But when the smoke cleared, the iron was gone. The chain was shattered. He was free.

Chan fell forward, clutching his wrist, teeth clenched against the agony. But even through the pain, his lips stretched into a grin.

“It worked…” he panted. “Felix… it worked.”

The demons whooped in triumph, Minho punching the air, Changbin literally bouncing with joy. “Gods, I love that little angel,” Changbin laughed breathlessly.

Chan chuckled, low and hoarse. “So do I.”

They repeated the process with the other shackles. Each explosion left burns across Chan’s arms and ankles, his skin raw and throbbing, but he gritted his teeth and bore it. Every explosion brought him closer to Felix. Every scar would be proof of survival.

Minutes later, the chains clattered uselessly to the ground. Chan stood—shaky, unsteady, but free. His muscles screamed from disuse, every step like knives cutting into him, but his friends braced him on either side.

“Easy, hyung,” Minho murmured, slipping under one arm. Changbin took the other. Chan leaned heavily into them, groaning through clenched teeth.

His body was screaming in pain, but his soul felt lighter than air.

“Seungmin,” Chan rasped. “Go. Get Lunarys. She comes with us.”

The younger demon nodded firmly and sprinted off, leaving the other two to half-carry Chan toward the service exit. Every step was torture. His legs, stiff from weeks of kneeling, shook violently. His back ached like fire, his shoulders screamed, but he bit his lip until it bled, refusing to make a sound. Silence was survival.

They crept through the castle, hugging shadows, slipping past patrols. The corridors seemed endless, each torch a threat. The closer they got to freedom, the heavier Chan’s heartbeat pounded in his ears.

Finally, the cool night air kissed their skin as they reached the service gate. The stars stretched wide above them, more beautiful than any crown. Chan sagged against Minho’s shoulder, nearly collapsing, but he stayed upright. He had to. Moments later, Seungmin appeared—leading Lunarys with a rope tied around his neck.

"With all due respect... I hate her," Seungmin growled. "She almost ate me, burned me, and ripped my skin off when I threw that rope around her neck... She's all yours now, prince."

The dragon let out a piercing, guttural cry the moment her eyes landed on Chan. Her massive body shuddered, wings spreading wide, her cry echoing like thunder across the night.

“Shhh…” Chan pleaded, stumbling forward. He reached out with trembling hands, pressing his forehead against the warm scales of her snout. Tears rolled down his face as he whispered to her. “I’m here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I’m here now. And I promise—we’ll never be apart again. We’re going to find his, Lunarys. We’re going to find Felix.”

Lunarys whined, lowering herself to the ground. She nudged him gently, as if careful not to hurt his broken body. Chan smiled through his tears. With his friends’ help, he mounted her back. The motion sent knives of pain through his muscles, his body trembling with exhaustion, but he clung on. Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin mounted sleek black-winged horses. They would have also ridden Lunarys, but the dragon wouldn't let anyone ride her, only Chan and... Felix.

Chan closed his eyes, summoning the last of his energy. He whispered words of fire and blood, words only a prince of Hell could speak. The air around them began to hum, the atmosphere splitting open. A crack of crimson light appeared in front of them, widening into a swirling void—the gateway between worlds.

His friends looked to him, eyes wide with determination. Chan nodded weakly, clutching Lunarys’s scales.

“Let’s go.”

And with that, the four of them—demon prince, loyal brothers, and dragon—disappeared into the portal, leaving the prison behind. For the first time in weeks, Chan wasn’t shackled to despair. He was shackled to love. To Felix. And nothing in Heaven or Hell would keep them apart.

________________________________

The portal spat them out into cool night air. The scent of pine and damp earth filled their lungs as the dark canopy of the forest loomed above. The second Lunarys’s claws hit the grass, Chan slumped forward, his body finally giving in. He toppled from her back, landing heavily against the ground.

“Your highness!” Minho shouted, leaping down and catching him just before his head hit the soil. Chan’s body was limp, his breathing shallow, his skin clammy with sweat.

Changbin raised his head, panic written all over his face. “We need help. Now!”

He sprinted forward, calling out desperately into the silent night. His voice echoed through the trees until the flicker of torches answered back. Dozens of armored guards from the Forest Kingdom appeared, weapons raised until they saw the demons hunched around the unconscious prince.

“Lower your arms!” Minho shouted. “We come seeking refuge. He needs aid!”

The commotion carried farther. Within minutes, more guards arrived, followed by the soft rustle of gowns and the gleam of jewels. Princess Jennie and Princess Rosé appeared at the edge of the clearing, their faces pale in the moonlight. Behind them, cloaked in green and silver, came the Forest King.

The King’s sharp eyes landed on the unconscious demon prince. His lips curved into a smile, not of mockery, but of something older—recognition. He turned slightly toward the princesses and spoke with calm certainty.

“The prophecy is moving. The Prince of Underworld is here. Peace is coming.”

Jennie and Rosé exchanged a glance before stepping forward briskly. “Take them inside,” Rosé commanded the guards. “The prince to the infirmary at once. The others—prepare chambers in the North Wing. They’ve come a long way.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” the guards responded in unison.

As they moved, Minho tried to lead Lunarys toward the castle, but the dragon’s snarl split the air, low and dangerous. She whipped her head, snapping at the nearest soldier who dared approach, her wings flaring wide in warning. Everyone recoiled instantly.

“She’ll kill anyone who touches her,” one guard muttered nervously.

“Let her be,” Changbin said firmly, stepping forward with hands raised. “She knows the way. She’ll find her place on her own. Don’t chain her. Don’t anger her. Just… let her go.”

The princesses hesitated, but Jennie finally nodded. “Very well. Loose her path. We’ll trust the dragon’s instincts.”

Lunarys gave a final rumbling growl, then stalked away into the forest shadows, her silver scales glinting beneath the moonlight.

Inside the castle, the infirmary smelled of herbs and smoke. The guards laid Chan carefully on a wide bed as a healer hurried forward, sleeves rolled high, hands glowing faintly with healing light. Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin crowded around as the physician examined him.

“Second-degree burns,” the man announced, gently inspecting the raw flesh around Chan’s wrists and ankles. “Deep, but not beyond repair. How did this happen?”

The demons exchanged quick glances before Minho explained. “He had to use… celestial explosives. It was the only way to break his chains.”

The healer frowned but didn’t question further. He moved to Chan’s face, pressing a hand to his cheek, then to his chest. “There’s more. He’s malnourished—severely. How long has he been without food?”

Changbin swallowed. “Almost a month. He only started eating again a week ago… after learning Felix was alive.”

The healer’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t ask who Felix was. “Then it makes sense. His body is depleted. He’ll need several days, maybe longer, before he regains full strength. He must remain in bed until his muscles remember their purpose. Push him and you’ll break him.”

As if on cue, Chan stirred faintly. His lashes fluttered, and his eyes cracked open, unfocused at first before slowly clearing. The first thing he saw were the princesses standing at his side, their hands resting gently over his.

“Prince,” Rosé said softly. “Are you awake? Do you need anything?”

Chan’s lips trembled into a tired smile. His voice came rough, low, but filled with quiet determination. “Only the Forest Kingdom can help me now. Please… I need your aid.”

Before the princesses could respond, another figure entered his blurred vision. The King.

“I have been waiting for this moment,” the King said, his deep voice filling the chamber. “Since the first whispers of prophecy, I knew you would come. And here you are, the demon prince, wounded but unbroken. Here you will find allies. Here you will find the army you and your angel will need… to stand against all.”

Chan blinked, his lips parting. His head spun with disbelief. How could the King already know of Felix? How could he know that Chan intended to march against his own father, against the Underworld itself?

“How…?” Chan tried, but dizziness overtook him. His eyelids fluttered closed again, surrendering him to darkness.

“Chan!” Minho called, shaking his shoulder.

But the King lifted a hand. “Let him rest. The prophecy does not need him conscious this moment.”

The three demons turned to him, suspicion and hope warring in their eyes.

“You… you know?” Seungmin asked carefully. “You know about the prophecy?”

The King nodded once, solemnly. “When your prince recovers, I will tell him everything. But yes—the Forest Kingdom has always known its role. We are meant to stand with the angel and the demon, to see balance restored. That is what I intend to do.”

Relief spread across the three friends’ faces. For the first time since entering this kingdom, they felt safe.

“Thank you,” Changbin whispered, bowing his head.

The King’s stern face softened. “Gratitude is not needed. This is destiny. For now, go. Rest. You will need strength in the days ahead.”

The princesses gestured toward the guards, who began leading Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin away. They looked back once more at Chan, lying pale but breathing steady under the healer’s hands.

“Sleep well, hyung,” Minho murmured under his breath. “Next time you open your eyes, you’ll be one step closer to him.”

And with that, the demons left the infirmary, leaving their prince to heal in the care of the Forest Kingdom.

Chapter Text

The days blurred into one another, stitched together by the rhythm of recovery. Morning light through tall, ivy-framed windows. Meals that were larger than anything he had been able to swallow in the dungeons. The sharp sting of hot water against skin when he bathed, washing away the grime of weeks in chains. And hours upon hours of sleep, his body demanding the time to knit itself back together.

For once, Chan allowed it. Because he had to. Felix.

His firefly was alive. The thought rang in his mind like a church bell, constant, insistent. He saw Felix when he closed his eyes. Saw his freckles, the curve of his smile, the mischievous gleam in his ocean-blue eyes whenever he teased. Heard his laughter, bright and musical, chasing away the darkest corners of Chan’s soul. It hurt, thinking about him. But it also gave him purpose.

Every bite of food he forced down, every stretch his aching muscles endured, every moment of rest—it wasn’t for himself. It was for Felix. He needed to be whole again, needed to be strong enough to hold him. To kiss him. To tell him everything he had never said enough.

By the seventh day in the Forest Kingdom, the color had returned to his face. His strength was far from what it once had been, but when he looked into the mirror, he no longer saw the broken shell that had rotted in the dungeons. He saw the demon prince again.

And today, he would finally get answers.

The King’s summons came at dawn. Guards appeared at Chan’s door, their armor still wet with dew, their voices steady, almost reverent.

“The King requests your presence in council, Prince Chan. And your companions as well.”

Chan’s heart pounded even as his body still trembled from weakness. The air felt heavier than usual, charged with a promise he couldn’t yet name. Minho helped him with his tunic, fastening the clasps while Chan’s hands shook. Changbin and Seungmin exchanged a silent glance, both of them too aware: this was not going to be an ordinary council.

The walk through the stone halls was silent except for the faint echoes of footsteps. For Chan, every sound felt magnified—his ragged breathing, the faint crackle of torches, the rasp of chains swinging at the guards’ hips.

When the doors of the council chamber opened, time seemed to still. The King sat at the head of a round oak table, carved from the heart of an ancient tree. His gaze was steady, ageless, carrying the weight of centuries. Jennie and Rosé lingered behind him, draped in soft light, their expressions unreadable but warm.

Chan took his place at the table, his friends sitting close at his sides like a wall of protection. His body ached, but his spirit burned with restless fire.

The King’s voice was low, deep, and calm—but something in it carried thunder.
“You have healed, young prince. Enough to face the truth.”

Chan’s hands curled into fists against the table. His voice broke with impatience. “Then tell me. What prophecy? Why does everyone here know what I don’t? What role do I play in something I never asked for?”

Minho inhaled slowly, his eyes dark with memory. “It was the night you escaped to the Sky Kingdom… the night you couldn’t stay away from Felix. That night, we were with I.N. The angel told us a story he remembered from the Celestial Library. At first, we didn’t believe him—we thought it was just one of those bedtime tales. But then…”

Chan’s sharp eyes locked onto him. “But then what?”

Seungmin picked up the thread, his voice low, almost reverent. “Then the details began to fit. Too perfectly. The story said that an angel with the voice of a demon and a demon with the heart of an angel would meet, and when they did, they would fall in love, bound as soulmates. Their union would wound the world—tear it apart—but also be the only way to rebuild peace.”

Chan’s breath caught. His chest rose and fell unevenly. “An angel with the voice of a demon… Felix,” he whispered, the truth piercing him like a blade.

Changbin nodded, leaning closer. “And a demon with a heart too soft, too kind for the fire he was born into… That’s you, prince. The story wasn’t about strangers. It was about you two. Every detail—every word—fit. The healing, the bond, the way you two complete each other. Think about it: Felix healed you by only touching you. And he healed himself when your hand covered his. That’s not coincidence. That’s prophecy.”

Chan’s throat closed. The memory of Felix’s warmth, of light searing through him with just a touch, rose up unbidden. His soul screamed with the truth of it.

“You all knew…” His voice cracked with grief and fury. “You all knew and said nothing?”

Seungmin’s eyes lowered. “We didn’t know it was real. Not at first. Even I.N. doubted himself. He thought it was too impossible—an angel and a demon falling in love? But then we saw it happening before our eyes. And Felix… Felix figured it out, too.”

Chan’s head snapped toward him, every vein in his body freezing over. “What do you mean Felix knew?”

Seungmin’s voice softened, heavy with sorrow. “He overheard the King mention the trial. The part of the story where either the angel or the demon dies. Felix panicked. He cornered I.N., demanded every detail. That’s when he realized it wasn’t a story. It was your lives. Your love.”

Chan’s vision blurred with tears, his chest convulsing as if his heart itself were trying to tear free. His firefly had carried this weight in silence, had known their love was written in prophecy—and had still chosen him and saved him.

Before Chan could speak, the King leaned forward, his eyes burning like embers. “The prophecy is no fable. I saw the book myself. It appeared one morning on my desk as if the forest itself had placed it there. I read it, doubted it… until I met you and Felix. Then everything fell into place. It was you. Always you.” The King leaned forward, his gaze burning into Chan’s. “That is why I pushed for the union of the kingdoms. Why I demanded you two live under one roof. It wasn’t about alliances or politics. It was to create the circumstances for you to meet. To fall in love. As you were always meant to.”

Chan stared at him, chest heaving. “So… all of this… everything… it was planned?”

“Not planned,” the King corrected softly. “Fated. The book only showed the beginning. Enough for me to recognize the path.”

Chan’s voice cracked, raw and trembling. “Then give me the book. Let me see it.”

The King bowed his head, sorrow in his gaze. “I cannot. As quickly as it came, it vanished. Taken by the winds of destiny, I imagine. I never saw it again.”

Minho interrupted. “But the angels have found it again. They guard it now.”

Chan gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. His voice was a plea, a scream, a prayer. “Then tell me this. In the book… do Felix and I end up together?”

The King’s expression softened. For a moment, he looked not like a ruler but like a man who pitied the weight of destiny. “The book ends unfinished. At least when I had it. Blank pages where the ending should be. As if fate itself paused, waiting for you to write it.”

Chan’s breath shuddered. Tears spilled freely, streaking down his scarred face. Blank pages. A love story unfinished. A destiny unwritten.

His voice was hoarse but unshakable. “Then I’ll write it. With my own hands, with my own blood if I have to. I’ll fight for Felix. I’ll bring back his memories. And I’ll make sure our ending is one the gods themselves can’t erase.”

The demons bowed their heads, not in shame this time, but in reverence. His fire burned too fiercely to be doubted.

Changbin placed his hand over Chan’s, his voice resolute. “Then the path is clear. First, we bring back the angels. We help Felix remember who he is, who you are to him. And once he does, we’ll face heaven and hell together.”

Chan lifted his tear-streaked face. Weak in body, unbreakable in soul. His heart thundered with one truth only: He was Felix’s. Felix was his. And no prophecy, no kingdom, no god would ever tear them apart.

______________________________

The forest clearing felt alive, the air charged with a strange electricity that seemed to hum against Chan’s skin. The moon hung swollen and pale above the treetops, silver light spilling across the ground where four demons stood together.

Chan’s chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm. Every breath was tight, pulled from lungs that still ached after days of healing. He was stronger, yes—his body fed, his skin bandaged, his muscles slowly waking from weeks of chains. But tonight, strength wasn’t what he needed. Tonight, he needed something more—hope, and the kind of fire only one boy could give him. Felix. His name throbbed like a second heartbeat inside Chan’s skull.

He glanced at his brothers-in-arms—Changbin shifting impatiently from foot to foot, Minho standing tall and composed with an edge of hunger in his eyes, Seungmin silent but his fingers twitching like he was restraining the need to move. The hour was almost here.

Chan licked his lips and forced the words out, his voice husky: “Tonight… you’re seeing them. Your angels. Your other halves.”

Changbin let out a rough laugh, running a hand through his dark hair. “Other halves? More like the only halves worth living for. If I don’t get my mouth on Hyunjin tonight, I’ll go feral.”

Minho smirked, but his eyes burned. “You’ve always been feral. But yeah… I’m going to pin Jisung to the ground and make him scream before sunrise.”

Seungmin, usually the calm one, let out a low growl that made Chan’s brows rise. “If I.N. doesn’t let me kiss every inch of his body… I’ll eat him alive instead.”

The words made the air thick, hot. Chan swallowed down the wave of jealousy that hit him like a spear. Their angels… they would get them back. Their lips, their touches, their sweet sounds of relief and hunger all tangled together.

And Chan? Chan would watch. He’d stand with empty hands and an empty chest while Felix—his Felix—was still trapped in a cage of false memories. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. Soon, he told himself. Soon, my butterfly.

“Open it,” Minho murmured.

Chan nodded. He stepped forward, his bare feet digging into the soft moss. Closing his eyes, he summoned that spark of power that had become sharper every day. His palms flared with black fire, a steady glow of shadow and heat. He drew the circle in the air, whispering words that came from somewhere deeper than memory, words that tasted like destiny. The portal tore open with a hiss, silver edges burning against the night. Wind sucked inward, pulling at their hair, their cloaks.

“Let’s go,” Chan said, his voice rough.

They stepped through. The world bent, twisted—light and shadow clashing until suddenly, their feet slammed against new ground. The fog peeled back. A sky stretched wide above them, tinted with rose and gold even though it was deep night. The clouds shimmered faintly as if dusted with starlight. The scent of blossoms filled the air.

They were in Heaven. The demons crouched low, instinctively searching for danger. The four of them hid among tall hedges, pressing into the shadows at the edge of the castle’s back gardens. Silence fell. Only their heartbeats roared in their ears. And then— Footsteps.

Three silhouettes appeared in the distance. Tall, elegant, their wings folded against their backs, feathers catching glints of moonlight. Chan’s chest tightened instantly. His throat burned. For a second, he thought—he hoped—Felix. But no. His heart knew Felix’s outline better than it knew his own reflection.

Instead, it was Hyunjin, long-haired and graceful; Jisung, shorter but bright even in the shadows; and I.N., careful, scanning the night like a sentinel. The angels were talking quietly.

“I don’t think they’re coming,” Jisung muttered, his voice tinged with sadness. “We’ve been out here for over a week. What if… what if they never make it out?”

Hyunjin laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t say that. You know them. If there’s anyone stubborn enough to fight out of Hell itself, it’s our demons.”

I.N.’s voice, gentle but firm: “We’ll keep coming. Every night. If it takes a month, a year—whatever it takes. They’ll find us.”

And that was when the demons moved. They stepped from the shadows as one, grins breaking across their faces, eyes hungry, hearts wild. Four silhouettes with dark wings unfurling with a whisper of power. The angels froze.

Hyunjin’s lips parted, Jisung’s breath caught, I.N.’s eyes went wide. Their gazes devoured the men in front of them like they were seeing water after a year in the desert. No one spoke.

Until Changbin laughed—a low, wicked sound. “Miss us, pretty boys?”

Hyunjin’s knees buckled. A sob broke from his throat as he ran forward, crashing into Changbin’s arms. Their lips collided instantly, hard and desperate. Hyunjin clawed at his jaw, his chest, kissing him like a man drowning.

“Fuck, angel,” Changbin groaned against his mouth, “you taste even better than I remember. I’m going to ruin you tonight.”

Hyunjin whimpered, pulling at his hair. “Do it. Please—do it—Bin, I thought I lost you—”

“Never. You’re mine. Always mine.” Changbin’s hand slid boldly down, gripping Hyunjin’s ass. Hyunjin gasped into the kiss, grinding helplessly against him.

Chan looked away, heat spiking low in his stomach. Beside him, Minho didn’t waste a second. Jisung had already leapt—literally leapt—into his arms, legs locking around his waist.

“My demon!” Jisung sobbed into his neck, kissing everywhere he could reach. His lips smeared across Minho’s jaw, his throat, desperate and wet with tears. “I can’t believe you’re real—I can’t—”

Minho grabbed his ass with both hands, groaning as he pressed Jisung tight against his body. “Oh, you’re real enough. And fuck, I forgot how good you feel wrapped around me. Gonna keep you here all night, my little chipmunk…mine…”

Jisung moaned, already rutting against him like he couldn’t help himself. “Say it again. Say I’m yours.”

“You’re mine, Ji. Mine to kiss, mine to fuck, mine to worship until you can’t even say your own name.”

Jisung gasped so loudly it echoed in the garden, then buried his face in Minho’s mouth, kissing him messy, needy, obscene.

Seungmin and I.N. weren’t any slower. The moment their eyes locked, I.N.’s whole body shook. Tears spilled freely as he stumbled forward, almost tripping, before finally slamming his lips against Seungmin’s. It wasn’t graceful—it was raw, awkward even, but so full of trembling need it made Chan’s chest ache.

Seungmin caught him, strong arms holding him like he was the most precious thing in the universe. His tongue pushed into I.N.’s mouth, deep and claiming, and I.N. let out a sound so broken and sweet it nearly undid them both.

“God, I missed your mouth,” Seungmin growled against his lips. “Gonna kiss you every day until you beg me to stop.”

“I’ll never beg you to stop,” I.N. whispered, voice cracking. “Please—don’t stop—Seung, I want you to make love to me. You're the only one I want to be with for the rest of my life.—”

“I’ll make love to you,” Seungmin promised, sliding his hand up under I.N.’s shirt, fingers splaying across his warm skin. “You’ll forget what loneliness feels like.”

I.N. shivered, tears still streaming as he clung to him, kissing back with quiet, breathless desperation.

The garden filled with the sounds of them—gasps, wet kisses, whimpers, moans, the kind of raw devotion that made even the stars feel too dim.

Chan stood apart, watching. His throat closed. His eyes burned. The sight of them—their joy, their love, their hunger—tore at his insides like claws. His heart screamed Felix’s name over and over, a mantra that only left him emptier. He smiled, but it was broken.

“Felix…” he whispered to himself, voice shaking. “God, I need you…. So fucking much.”