His Chains, My Crown || Minsung

Felix refilled their glasses, avoiding Changbin’s gaze because every time he looked at the celestial king, his heart did something traitorous, fluttered like a moth too close to flame.

Changbin took the wine with a low “thank you.” their fingers brushing again, but this time neither pulled away.

Felix leaned against the side of the bed, swirling the wine in his glass. “You’re awfully smooth for someone from the realm of order and light.”

Changbin smirked from the armchair across the room. “Contrary to popular belief, the celestial realm is not devoid of charm. Just... selective.”

Felix tilted his head, a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes. “Selective?”

“I don’t flirt with everyone.” Changbin took a slow sip. “Only the ones who catch me off guard.”

Felix stared at him over the rim of his glass. “And I do that?”

“You did the moment you threatened a vampire lord with a stone in the battle.”

Felix laughed, nearly spilling his drink. “That was diplomatic genius!”

“That was chaos incarnate.” Changbin grinned. “I liked it.”

They both laughed then, the kind of laughter that loosened something deep in the chest. The wine, warm and rich, made everything feel softer. Closer.

“You know,” Felix said after a pause, his voice quieter now, “I used to think the celestial realm was cold. I hated you all for how you treated Jisung. Treated Minho. Treated us.”

Changbin nodded, serious now. “We deserved that hatred. But I didn’t come here as a king tonight. I came as a man trying to learn. Trying to do better.”

Felix’s heart squeezed. “You are doing better.”

Changbin’s eyes flicked up. “And you make it easier.”

The words hung between them.

Felix lowered his gaze. “Stop saying things like that.”

“Why?” Changbin asked, his voice dipping into something low, velvet. “Because it makes your heart race?”

Felix looked up, annoyed and flustered. “You’re crazy.”

“You blush every time I speak.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Try.”

They laughed again, softer this time. Changbin stood, walking over, placing his now-empty glass on the nightstand. Felix didn’t move as he approached, their proximity pulling at something invisible between them.

“I should sleep.” Changbin murmured.

“You said that an hour ago.” Felix replied.

“I keep getting distracted.”

Felix's smile was nervous now. “Good distractions?”

“The best.”

The silence swelled. Neither of them moved away. Their eyes locked, intense, wondering, hungry.

And then it happened.

Neither of them knew who leaned in first. Neither of them realized it was happening until it was, until breath mingled and hands brushed against sides and their mouths met softly, unexpectedly.

A kiss, unplanned. Unspoken.

But real.

When they pulled back, just inches apart, both of them wide-eyed, staring.

“…I didn’t mean to.” Felix whispered.

Changbin’s voice was low. “Me neither.”

Neither of them moved.

But neither of them regretted it.

The silence between them hung like breathless stars, soft and fragile. Felix was still holding his glass, though he’d forgotten about it. Changbin stood close enough that Felix could feel the warmth radiating from his body, celestial and strong, but not overwhelming. Comforting.

Neither of them spoke.

Then Felix set his wine glass down on the table with trembling fingers, and looked up.

Changbin's eyes flicked to his, searching, waiting, for fear, for rejection, for retreat.

But there was none.

Only that wild fluttering again in Felix’s chest. Only the soft pull in his gut that said: closer.

Felix took a step.

Changbin took one too.

Then, slowly, like the world might shatter under too much suddenness, their hands met. Changbin's palm cradled Felix’s jaw this time, and Felix’s fingers curled around Changbin’s wrist, not to stop him, but to anchor him there.

And then they kissed.

This time, they meant it.

No surprise. No accident. Just the soft press of lips and the quiet sigh of something inevitable, as though they’d waited through entire lifetimes for this exact moment to arrive.

Felix leaned into it, letting his eyes flutter shut, lips parting slightly as Changbin deepened the kiss, his other hand settling gently at Felix’s waist. Felix’s fingers found his coat, gripping softly, holding on like he was afraid to let go.

This kiss wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t loud.

It was slow. Honest. Real.

And when they finally parted, foreheads resting together, breath mingling, Felix laughed under his breath, soft, bashful.

“Well,” he said, “that was… definitely not a diplomatic gesture.”

Changbin grinned, his thumb brushing the apple of Felix’s flushed cheek. “No.” he murmured. “That was entirely personal.”

Felix leaned closer again. “Good.”

And this time, he kissed Changbin first.