Raise Hell ▪︎Chanlix

False Alarm...?

I wanted to introduce the cruel side of Chan in this chap but idk if I did him any justice- I'm so used to writing chan as the kind hearted, loving human that he is
so now this is a smut chap lol

•°. *࿐

"ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴀ ʜᴀʙɪᴛ, ɪᴛ ᴄᴇᴀꜱᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇ: ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ɢʀᴀᴅᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀᴄᴏ̨ᴜᴀɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ."

•°. *࿐

Chan let his claws run over the younger's arm, soothing the sleeping human in his lap with the light caress.

With his chin propped up on the back of his palm, the demon sat on his obsidian throne, a wing curled around Felix to keep him warm as he rested on his chest, slow but steady breaths leaving his lungs in silent snores.

Only a few hours ago did he have Felix examined, only to find that the younger was simply under the influence of a common illness for humans- a fever is what Jeongin had called it.

He did not know what it was, but he trusted Jeongin when he told them his human would be feeling better in no less than a week.

Not that Jeongin had known much himself, however he was the most knowledgeable on the human species. Chan had no other option but to trust the younger demon despite his unsure expression and worried glances aimed at Felix.

He stilled instantly as the younger groaned with a frown tugging at his lips. Felix shifted around to find a much more comfortable position only to groan again when he failed.

Cute.

The brunette blinked, attempting to blink away the blurriness that fogged his sight, staring blankly at Chan before a bright flush painted his cheeks as he faded in to his senses.

Felix pushed off of the demon's shoulder as he surveyed his surroundings with squinted eyes before glancing back at the older, who stalked his every move, in confusion.

The last he remembered was walking up the staircase (thatwould surely be the death of him- why were they so steep and wide?) and seeing a head of red and black.

"Wha-" a spur of coughs ripped through him, throat burning, eyes  tearing up and he desperately grabbed the glass of water presented to him (he guessed Chan called upon a servant) and sighed in relief as the cool water soothed his aching throat.

The servant took the empty glass from him and Chan pulled him closer with a hand, the other reaching up to run the pad of his thumb under his eye.

"How are you fairing my love?"

He'd never get used to the tenderness that coated the pet names.

But to answer the demon's question...

There was the tight stickiness of dried sweat sitting on his heated skin, burning lungs and an odd lethargy that made his limbs feel heavy and slow.

"Could be better," he whispered, afraid to set off another coughing fit.

He felt like he could sleep for days, enveloped in the older's heat.

Chan hummed thoughtfully, combing his fingers through his brown locks and down to rest on his nape to pull him down so that he could rest his head on his broad shoulder once more, a wing curling around him tighter.