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I have waited
Paralyzed by my own will
Viciously reminding me still
I'm born to believe
I am certain
You and I are crashing course
Driven by a holy force
And oh, you can see
Chan stalks through the trees, his oxfords snapping twigs and crunching brittle leaves. He tilts his head to one side then the other, listening to the sounds of the forest.
Hunting.
A faint shuffle ahead, off to the east. He shifts his course, maintaining his slow pace. His prey is distracted—sloppy. Arguably weaker, but Chan would never say that out loud. It’s just that he’s been alive for nearly a millennium, and Felix–
Well.
Felix has not.
“I can hear you, Little One.” Chan calls out, not raising his voice. Felix will hear him in the quiet of the forest regardless. “Come on, baby. It’s cold out, and you’re barely wearing anything.”
Chan catches a glimpse of white behind a tree. Satin swirls and settles, so Chan stops walking, bending down to pick up a large rock. He aims, sending it arcing through the trees to land several feet shy of the tree Felix seemingly hides behind, in the opposite direction from him. The subversion works, for Felix stumbles out from the trunk’s shadow and runs, directly–
–into Chan.
“Oh!” Felix squeals when he ricochets off of Chan’s chest, his own heaving. Chan grips him by the upper arms to stabilize him, prevent him from falling. “Master!”
Chan takes in his thrall, feels his fragile human body beneath his fingertips. He sweeps a glance down Felix’s lithe form. The white satin robe flutters with Felix’s trembling, his chest bare underneath. The thin cotton of his briefs does little to hide his affliction. “Felix.” Chan murmurs, a warning and a relief all at once.
“You caught me.” Felix says, airy and wistful. His eyes are glazed and his cheeks are pinked from the chill.
Chan chuckles darkly. “I’ll always catch you, Lix. There’s nowhere you can run from me where I won’t find you.” He shifts his hands, curling them around Felix’s waist to drag his thrall closer—to his chest. He dips his head to trace his nose down the line of Felix’s neck, a thrill of excitement shooting down his spine when Felix shivers. “You’re mine, Little One.”
His fangs descend and then he’s sinking them in, breaking open the delicate skin to drink from his precious thrall.
“M-Master,” Felix gasps, his head rolling back to grant Chan better access. Chan withdraws his teeth, ambrosia dripping from them, to drag the points of his fangs up Felix’s neck.
“Say it, baby.” He murmurs, mouth hovering over Felix’s open, quivering lips. “Tell me that you know it, that you belong to me.”
Felix moans, another shiver rippling through him. The bite at his neck leaks. “Chan– ‘m yours, only yours.” He whispers, his hands reaching for Chan’s lapels. “Daddy, please–”
Chan groans, releasing Felix and shoving his hands off. “Run.”
That startles Felix into stillness. “What?”
“I said,” Chan grits through his teeth, the reins of his self control slipping in his hands. He reaches up to swipe a finger through the crimson weeping from Felix’s neck. “Run. I won’t tell you again.”
Felix turns, pulling his robe tight to his body and taking off. Chan watches him go, counting to ten before he prowls after him.
They’ve done this many times now, this cat-and-mouse, predator-and-prey game. Yet Felix has never before been asked to run twice in one night.
Chan lets him flee—stalks him to the edge of the property and herds him back toward the Manor. At one point, Changbin appears in stride with Chan, amused at their game.
“You’ve grown another neck vein.” Changbin says casually, the humor barely hidden from his face. Chan turns to him with a snarl. “Oh, you are really gone, aren’t you? Poor Felix.” Chan sends him back to the Manor with one more pointed glare. Changbin’s laughter floats through the trees, and Felix cries out for help, begging for Changbin.
Instead, it’s Chan who pins him down, a hand cradling the back of his head as they hit the dirt. “Mine.” Chan barely manages to breathe out before he’s sinking his fangs into Felix’s clavicle. “All mine.”
Felix writhes underneath him, his hips bucking up as his legs wrap around Chan’s waist. His hard length grinds against Chan's crotch. “Please,” he croons, running a hand up Chan’s back. “Channie, please, take me. Make me whole, make me yours entirely–”
Chan pulls back, staring down at him. Felix’s eyes are nearly white in his thrall, clouded and glossy. Drunk on Chan's influence. Chan scowls, suddenly sobered. “No.”
He reaches around to unhook Felix’s legs, but Felix scrabbles to pull at his shoulders. “No! Master, please, please–” One of his hands flies to the bite on his collar bone, digging in and making it bleed more freely. He lifts his bloody fingers to smear them on Chan’s mouth. “Taste me, take me, Chan.”
Chan rears back, licking his lips instinctually. Felix drags his bloody hand over his own mouth before reaching to press his fingers into the wound again. He whimpers. “Stop that,” Chan reprimands, reaching for Felix’s hand. “What the fuck are you doing, Felix?”
“Giving you more reasons to want me,” he whines, curling his free hand in Chan’s jacket. “My blood—Why don’t you want me? I want you so badly but you don’t want me, it’s not fair.” Felix’s voice breaks, and Chan drops his head, forehead pressed to Felix’s bare chest. The hand caught in his fingers pulls free before Felix cups his jaw. “Am I not– not good enough? Not pretty enough?”
“Felix.” Chan surges forward, grabbing Felix’s face in his hands. “No, that’s not– Oh, god baby.”
He stares down at him, at his little human, wondering how he got here. How he let himself fall for something so breakable.
“You don’t want me.” Felix sniffles. “You haven’t even properly fed yet, your eyes are still red.”
“I’m sorry,” Chan whispers, shifting to latch his mouth around the still-bleeding wound, torn open by Felix’s careless fingers. He sucks down the rich warmth that spills from it, swallowing mouthful after mouthful. Chan runs a soothing thumb over Felix’s opposing cheek, feeling the way Felix finally begins to relax. I'm sorry, he thinks again, trying to telepathically beam it right into Felix's brain.
The flow of blood begins to slow, so Chan pulls back, laving his tongue over the wound to close it with a clot.
It doesn’t clot.
Bewildered, Chan looks up at Felix’s face. Words die in his throat at the hollow look on his face—the near-clear eyes that stare blankly at the night sky, his mouth parted slightly. A horrible thought occurs to Chan that Felix looks dead.
His hand moves to Felix’s chest, pressing flat to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
Only– it isn’t steady. His heart kicks weakly under Chan’s palm, slowed to a barely discernible pulse.
Frantic, Chan’s hands fly back to Felix’s face. “Lix! Lix, Felix, baby.” He lifts his wrist to his mouth, tearing at the tendons to open his own veins. Blackened blood bursts forth, so he shoves it to Felix’s mouth. Panic curls its fingers into his ribs, pulling tight, ripping Chan open. “Baby, please, I didn’t mean—oh my God, don’t leave me, baby I’m so sorry, don’t—I-I can’t live without you.”
Chan pleads and begs to gods he hasn’t believed in for centuries. His fingers curl in the collar of the robe, stained pink with the spilled blood—oh, God, there’s so much blood soaking into the white satin and the forest floor below them. How had Chan not noticed?
He presses his wrist further into Felix’s mouth, clenching his hand and unclenching to get the blood to flow faster. “Baby, baby, please, oh God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Felix.” His voice hitches on a sob, foreign wetness gathered in his eyes. “Please, please, I love you so much, Little One. I’ve never–” Raw pain tears through him at the thought of an existence without Felix.
Suddenly—weakly—Felix’s lips suction to his wrist, and Chan gasps. “Felix.”
The panic in his chest loosens. He looks down, seeing the way Felix’s skin tightens over the gaping wound. He leans down to lick it closed, the action working a clot forward and knitting the jagged edges together. “Oh, thank fuck.”
His forehead thunks down, right to Felix’s neck. After a few moments, Chan pulls his wrist free from Felix’s mouth, knowing he’s given Felix enough to complete the Change. Instead, he runs his hands over Felix’s exposed skin, over the soft satin covering his arms.
Then he remembers. “Lix, I’m sorry. I have to bite you one last time.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Felix’s cheek. “It’s just the Claim, it’ll be the last time I hurt you baby.”
Chan steels himself, bracing for the bond he knows will snap into place as soon as he makes his mark. Lining up with Felix’s heart, Chan settles his mouth right in the curve of his neck, just above the now-useless organ. His fangs descend again, pressed tight to not-so-delicate skin. Chan has to push harder, bite down more forcefully to pierce the flesh.
And then he has. He’s laid Claim to his progeny—his progeny, fuck. He’ll never be able to touch Felix again. His guilt already consumes him.
The bond lights him up, lancing through him hotter than sunlight. A golden thread settles within him, alongside Jisung's bond-thread. Chan feels Felix, feels his soul as it tethers to his own. And then, Felix opens his eyes.
Bright vermillion, looking right at Chan. Felix smiles, slow and feline.
“Hello, Maker.”