Between two worlds | Chanlix

No name, cause i can't name this

P.S. I have no idea how i wrote that and under what, haha, but here you go....SMUT 18+...mind it...2000 words of this...

"You think this means anything?" Felix hissed, but his breath caught when Chan's fingers curled into his hips, possessive, bruising.

"No," Chan growled low in his throat, lying so hard he could taste it. "It's just... business."

Their mouths crashed together — violent, desperate, no finesse. Teeth clashed, tongues battled. It was messy, it was raw, and it was the most real thing either of them had felt in months. Felix yanked at Chan's shirt, nearly tearing it, nails dragging down hot skin as he finally, finally touched the man who haunted his every thought.

Chan lifted Felix like he weighed nothing, slamming him onto the bed, crawling over him like a storm ready to destroy. Felix writhed beneath him, golden hair fanned out against the dark sheets, his chest heaving.

"This doesn't change anything," Felix panted, even as he arched into Chan's touch, even as he needed him like oxygen.

"Shut up," Chan rasped, his voice cracked and heavy with need. He kissed down Felix's throat, biting hard enough to leave marks — claiming, punishing, worshipping all at once.

Clothes disappeared, ripped away or shoved aside in frantic haste, until there was nothing left between them but skin and heat and hate—or was it?

Felix gasped when Chan's hand slid between his thighs, rough and skilled, drawing out broken sounds that betrayed how much he wanted this, wanted him. Chan's mouth followed, slow and teasing now, a brutal contrast to the fury burning in both of them.

"Still just a deal?" Chan taunted against Felix's flushed skin, his voice a deep, wicked growl.

Felix bit his lip hard enough to taste blood but couldn't stop the whimper that escaped him. His pride shattered between Chan's hands, between his teeth.

"Fuck you," Felix hissed.

"You wish," Chan smirked, and with one hard thrust of his hips, he shattered the distance between them — and any lies they were still clinging to.

The bed groaned under their bodies, Felix clawing at Chan's back, leaving angry red lines that only made Chan drive into him harder, deeper, each movement a battle, a claim, a desperate confession they were too stubborn to speak out loud.

It wasn't just anger anymore.

It wasn't just a deal.

It was need, burning so hot it threatened to consume them whole.

And neither of them wanted to be saved.

Felix's legs wrapped around Chan's waist instinctively, dragging him in closer, needing more, needing everything. His nails dug into Chan's back, desperate for something to hold onto as the pressure built higher, hotter, until it felt like he was going to shatter apart.

Chan's mouth was everywhere — jaw, throat, chest — kissing, biting, sucking bruises into Felix's flushed skin, branding him like he was trying to make sure no one else could ever touch him without seeing him there first.

"Look at me," Chan growled, his voice wrecked, his hands forcing Felix's face up. His dark eyes pinned Felix down harder than his body ever could. "I want to see you fall apart."

Felix's cheeks burned, his body arching helplessly into every roll of Chan's hips, every merciless grind. He wanted to curse him, spit at him, anything to keep the last shred of pride he had — but all that came out was a broken moan.