#hellboys

Kanai tilted his head in a slow, calculated movement, eyes scanning him as if analyzing the probability of Draeko being a liar.

"You stifled that," he noted blankly. "It is unhealthy to suppress a sneeze, Luciftias. The pressure can rupture delicate blood vessels."

Draeko groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Nai, I don’t need a scientific analysis of my immune system—hhHh'GXXTchh’iew! Hh’KXTCH’ue!—ughh..."

Kanai watched in silence as Draeko sniffled thickly, his ears drooping slightly under the weight of his congestion. His nose twitched as if still tickling, his expression soft and unfocused in the aftermath of his fit. A perfect, obvious, undeniable picture of a sick man.

And yet, Draeko still had the audacity to smile up at Kanai through watery, mismatched eyes and say, "See? Totally fine."

Kanai did not react.

Instead, without comment, he disappeared into the kitchen.

When he returned, he set a bottle of water, tissues, and fever medication on the table beside Draeko with a precision that suggested he had already determined this outcome the moment the hybrid sneezed.

Draeko blinked at the items, sniffled pitifully, and then blinked up at Kanai. "...You just had this stuff ready to go, huh?"

Kanai sat beside him, silent for a long moment before answering, "It is inevitable."

At first, Draeko had believed his own stubborn optimism. His symptoms remained mild, just a little stuffiness, the occasional harsh sneezing fit, and a general feeling of malaise that he refused to acknowledge.

Kanai, ever present, had watched.

Even as Draeko curled up under a blanket in the hound’s room, watching the soft, eerie glow of the jellyfish tanks sway in the dim lighting, Kanai observed. He had his notebook in hand, jotting something down between glances at Draeko.

Draeko, snuggled into his hoodie, narrowed his tired eyes. "You’re writing about me, aren’t you?"

Kanai did not bother denying it. "I am analyzing the physiological progression of your illness."

Draeko groaned. "Great. I’m a science experiment."

Kanai hummed noncommittally, his hand still moving against the paper.

Draeko huffed, sniffled, and wobbled to his feet. "I’m getting some water—hhHh’KSHhht’iiew! Hih’GXNTch!—hihh’KXXtsh’chhu!!" He froze mid-step, his breath still hitching as he quickly pinched his pink dusted nostrils between his thumb and index finger, the tickle refusing to subside.

Kanai, still writing, spoke without looking up. "Bless you."

"Hhhihh…hh’NGXSHh’ue!—Hihh’GXXTsh’iiew!“

Kanai paused. Looked up. Watched.

Draeko was still stuck, breath trembling in his throat, nose reddening at the edges as he fought against the overwhelming itch. His deer ears twitched, his tail flicked once behind him before he finally succumbed.

"Ihh’gxxnt’iiew! Huh'GDTS'iiew!! Hhh— Hh’NDKT’ih!"

The sneezes rocked his small frame, leaving him sniffling miserably into his hands.

Kanai observed him carefully, eyes flicking toward the tissues before he, without breaking eye contact, slid the box toward Draeko with a slow, deliberate push.

Draeko sniffled and took one. "...Thanks."

Kanai nodded once. "You are still getting worse."

Draeko sighed heavily, flopping back down into the blankets. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Kanai watched him curl into himself, his tail wrapping around his legs as his sniffles softened.

He turned back to his notebook. "Stage two: full-body fatigue. Increased sneezing frequency. Heightened congestion. Possible fever incoming."

He did not know at the time how correct he would be.

At first, Kanai was not aware that anything had changed.

His aquariums filtered the silence of the night with soft bubbling, their light casting slow-moving shadows across his walls. The apartment was quiet. Draeko had fallen asleep beside him earlier, his small frame curled under layers of blankets, breathing softly.

Everything had been still.

Until the whimpering started.

Kanai’s eyes snapped open.

His ears tuned in immediately to the sound—the barely-there, breathless murmurs of distress.

Kanai shifted, turning to where Draeko lay—only to immediately notice the problem.

Draeko was shaking.

Not the light, occasional shiver of someone cold, but the uncontrollable tremors of a body overwhelmed by fever. His sweater was damp with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, his breath coming in short, sharp little gasps.

Kanai pressed his hand to Draeko’s forehead.

Burning.

The next thing Kanai noticed was the thrashing.

Draeko's small frame twitched and jerked under the heavy blankets, his legs kicking out in frantic, unfocused movements. His tail curled in tight, his ears pressed flat against his damp, sweat-matted hair.

Then came the murmuring.

At first, it was just soft whimpers, breathless little sounds that barely carried beyond the blankets. But soon, his voice rose—frantic, fevered, lost.

"N-no—" Draeko shifted sharply, his body curling inward as if bracing for something unseen. His hands clenched at the sheets, gripping desperately, knuckles white. His breath came in short, uneven gasps, quivering at the edges.

Kanai watched. Assessed.

He knew what nightmares were. He had read about them. Observed them in others. But he had never experienced one. Fear was an abstract concept to him—one that did not govern his actions, one that did not coil in his chest the way it did in mortals.

Still.

Draeko was in distress.

And Kanai did not like it.

Kanai barely shifted as Draeko whimpered against him, his overheated body curling tighter into his chest. The slow-moving constellations in Draeko’s horns flickered briefly, unfocused—like a signal struggling to hold.

Kanai observed the change in silence, watching as the swirling nebulae blurred, the stars within them shifting sluggishly, their usual clarity dulled by fever.

“You are disoriented,” Kanai murmured, his cool fingers tracing the ridges of one horn carefully, monitoring the slow, dragging movements of the galaxy reflected there. “Your vision is compromised.”

Draeko only sniffled against him, a weak, exhausted hum the only response he could muster.

A particularly sharp whimper escaped Draeko’s lips, a broken, pitiful sound that sent a deep, unfamiliar sensation twisting in Kanai’s chest.

His breath hitched sharply, his fingers gripping at nothing, his brows furrowing in visible fear. His chest rose and fell erratically, his voice barely a breath.

"...D-don’t leave…"

Kanai reacted instantly.

Without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around Draeko, pulling him close. His palm found Draeko’s burning cheek, grounding him, his presence a steady, unmoving force.

Draeko’s breath stuttered. His mismatched eyes fluttered open, glassy, disoriented.

Kanai tightened his hold.

And then, with a choked, gasping inhale—

Draeko jerked awake.

He sat up so fast that the world tilted, his breath staggering in his lungs. His fever blurred the edges of reality, his vision swimming, disoriented. Sweat dripped down his temples, soaking into his flushed skin.

For a moment, he didn’t know where he was.

His ears twitched wildly, searching for sound, for something familiar, something safe—

And then his eyes met Kanai’s.

Silent. Steady. There.

Kanai was already reaching for him.

Before Draeko could fully register what was happening, he was being pulled into Kanai’s chest, into warmth, into something solid and grounding.

And the moment Kanai’s arms wrapped around him—the moment Draeko realized he was safe—

He broke.

A choked sob wrenched its way out of his throat, raw and helpless, as his fingers clutched Kanai’s hoodie. His body shook violently, shivers wracking his fevered frame as the pent-up fear, exhaustion, and overwhelming sickness crashed over him all at once.

Kanai said nothing.

He simply held him.

One hand pressed firm and steady against Draeko’s back, the other threading slowly through his damp, pastel-colored hair.

Draeko’s sobs came hard and unrelenting, his breath hitching, catching painfully in his throat. The fever left him raw, vulnerable, too exhausted to hold anything back. His tears burned hot as they spilled against Kanai’s chest, his fingers tightening in the fabric of his hoodie as if he feared Kanai might disappear from his grasp if he didn’t.

Kanai did not let go.

His hand continued its slow, steady movements, combing through Draeko’s sweat-dampened hair in a rhythm that was neither rushed nor hesitant.

Draeko sniffled hard, burying his face deeper against Kanai’s shoulder, his body still trembling in aftershocks of panic. His breath stuttered, breaking apart between cries, voice hoarse and small.

“…Nai…?”

The name was barely a breath—soft, fevered, and uncertain.

Kanai’s grip on him tightened. Not out of urgency, not out of worry—but out of certainty. Out of the absolute, unwavering fact that Draeko was here, in his arms, safe.

"You are safe, Luciftias." Kanai’s voice was low, steady. Absolute.

Draeko shivered. His entire body curled into Kanai’s warmth, his weak, trembling hands balling up a fist full of Kanai’s hoodie as though the fabric itself was keeping him tethered to reality. He let out a soft, stuffy whimper, his breath shuddering as his nose twitched, pink and raw from the endless irritation.

“I f-feel so shitty…” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper—stuffed thick with congestion, choked with fever. His lips parted as if trying to say more, but the words never came. Instead, his breath hitched sharply—a sudden, desperate gasp sucked in through blocked sinuses.

Kanai paused.

Draeko’s expression slackened, his brow furrowing slightly, his glassy, unfocused eyes fluttering as his pink nose twitched violently. His ears twitched along with it, flicking back against his damp, pastel-colored hair. His breathing grew uneven—little quivering inhales, caught somewhere between relief and irritation.

And then—

"hhHh'GNXTschhh'ue! hhHh'kNNGTchh'ue! Hiihh’NGnxxt’iiew!!"

Each sneeze pitched him forward, his small frame shaking as they ripped through him, leaving him sniffling weakly against Kanai’s chest.

Kanai did not move.

He simply waited. Observed. Let Draeko press his fever-warm face further into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with heat and helpless sniffles.

Draeko whimpered softly, nuzzling against Kanai’s chest like a miserable, sickly kit searching for warmth. "Uhhg… snnfff… s-sorry…"

Kanai didn’t acknowledge the apology. It was not necessary.

Instead, he pressed his cool palm against Draeko’s flushed cheek, feeling the unnatural heat still radiating from his small frame. Still rising. Still unacceptable.

"You are overheating."

Draeko made a weak, exhausted noise, the kind of sound that could not be classified as protest or agreement—just resignation. He sniffled harshly, voice thick and ruined.

"...D’know what to do about it… snnff!"

Kanai knew.

Without another word, he let his long, delicate fingers trace up Draeko’s face, brushing aside the damp, sweat-clung strands of pastel pink and mint green.

Draeko shivered, but this time, it wasn’t from fever.

His eyelashes fluttered, lips parting slightly as Kanai’s fingers ghosted over his temple, slow and deliberate. It was not an intentionally affectionate gesture—just methodical, precise. But to Draeko, it felt like paradise.

Kanai hummed softly. “I will cool you down.”

Draeko, too weak to protest, merely let out a small, pitiful sniffle, his body sinking further into Kanai’s touch.

Without hesitation, Kanai moved.

Every action was slow, calculated, but undeniably gentle.

He reached for a damp cloth, freshly soaked in cool water from earlier, pressing it carefully to Draeko’s overheated forehead. His movements were precise, methodical, deliberate—as if handling something fragile.

Draeko sighed, his body giving in completely.

The relief was instant.

A soft, trembling exhale slipped past his lips, barely a breath—a whimpering, exhausted sigh as he melted into Kanai’s care without resistance.

Kanai paused.

Something settled in his chest. A feeling unfamiliar. Unnamed.

His fingers moved on their own, slipping down to trace slow, absentminded circles along Draeko’s back. Not calculated. Not planned. Instinctual.

Draeko sniffled again, rubbing his still-twitching nose against Kanai’s chest with a quiet, sleepy grumble.

"...Nai…’s cold now…"

Kanai blinked.

He adjusted the cloth with precision, pressing the cool fabric back against Draeko’s flushed cheeks.

"You were overheating," he stated plainly. "This is an improvement."

Draeko huffed—a stuffy, congested little sound, muffled against Kanai’s hoodie.

"...Still don’ like it…" He sniffled wetly, barely lifting his arm before another sharp inhale stole his breath.

Kanai braced.

Draeko’s nose scrunched, his pink nostrils quivering in irritation. His breath hitched—a quick, gasping prelude—before he finally succumbed.

"H’GXTSH’ue! K’GNSH’iiew! Hihh’GXXTsh’iiew! "

Kanai remained perfectly still as each sneeze rocked Draeko’s frame, knocking the mutt further into his grip.

Draeko gave a small, exhausted whimper, sniffling helplessly against Kanai’s chest.

Kanai, without comment, reached for the handkerchief beside them.

He brought it to Draeko’s face.

Draeko’s dazed, glassy eyes fluttered open.

Kanai tilted his head slightly. "Blow your nose."

Draeko, blinking sluggishly, let out a small, tired groan before obediently pressing his nose to the cloth.

He blew, then sniffled. Then collapsed completely against Kanai’s chest.

Kanai, still holding the cloth, merely wrapped his arm more securely around Draeko’s shoulders, letting the mutt curl into him.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Draeko’s breathing slowed, evening out. His fever still burned, but the shaking had lessened.

And Kanai, still tracing absentminded patterns along Draeko’s spine, let the weight in his chest settle.

"...Better?" He finally asked.

Draeko, already half-asleep, gave a small, stuffy sigh.

"...Mmhm…"

Kanai exhaled softly.

“…Nai?” Draeko mumbled after a moment, his voice hoarse, barely above a breath.

Kanai’s eyes flickered down, feeling the slight shift of Draeko’s weight against him.

"Yes?"

Draeko sniffled, the sound thick and pitiful, before pressing his hot forehead further into Kanai’s chest. His small fingers curled weakly in the fabric of Kanai’s hoodie, his grip loose but clinging.

“…Y-you’re being really nice.”

Kanai blinked. He paused briefly, processing the statement, before responding in his usual calm, even tone.

“I am always ‘nice’ to you, Luciftias.”

Draeko’s fevered mind latched onto that immediately.

His ears twitched, and despite the obvious misery he was in, a small, stuffy giggle slipped out, wet and tired.

“…’Cept when you let me eat that weird fish food.”

Kanai did not react outwardly.

“…That was an experiment.”

Draeko groaned dramatically, sniffling thickly against Kanai’s chest. “Not cool, Nai.”

“You are still alive,” Kanai countered. “Thus, the experiment was a success.”

Draeko huffed—a breathy, exhausted sound, though his tail flicked once, betraying his amusement. But the moment was short-lived.

His breath hitched.

Kanai recognized the signs immediately.

Draeko’s nose twitched, pink and raw from irritation. His eyes squeezed shut, brow furrowing, as his breath trembled into a sharp, desperate inhale.

Normally, he would stifle. He always did. Pinching his nose, suppressing every sound, even if it hurt.

But now—with Kanai—

"HhHh'IHSHh’iew! hhHh'KSHhht! hh'ihhTSHH'ue!!"

Draeko sniffled weakly, rubbing his nose against Kanai’s hoodie in a dazed, exhausted motion. His body remained slumped against the hound’s chest, his fevered frame boneless and pliant.

Kanai’s fingers continued their slow, rhythmic motions through Draeko’s hair, smoothing through the damp pastel strands with absentminded precision.

Then, in the same calm, neutral tone he always spoke in, Kanai hummed softly and said,

“I am beginning to understand why Donnie is so fond of those.”

Draeko blinked.

Still half-buried in Kanai’s chest, he lazily peeked one glassy, mismatched eye up at him, blinking again in tired confusion.

“…Hhuh?” His voice was thick with congestion, but the bewilderment in it was still obvious.

Kanai tilted his head slightly, his hand still idly stroking down Draeko’s spine, like one would soothe a restless creature.

“Sneezes,” he clarified evenly.

Draeko stared.

Kanai watched his exhausted, fevered brain struggle to process the words, the gears in his mind turning sluggishly.

And then, despite the fog, the realization hit.

Draeko’s ears twitched.

His pink-flushed cheeks darkened slightly, and suddenly, his tail flicked once, as if his body was visibly trying to short-circuit.

“Nai—what?” His stuffy voice cracked slightly, genuine disbelief flooding his expression.

Kanai remained unaffected.

“It was not unpleasant,” he stated plainly, his fingers still idly combing through Draeko’s tangled hair. “Your body tensed and released in a rhythmic pattern. Your breath grew erratic, followed by a sharp, involuntary reaction. It is always an interesting physiological process to witness up close.”

Draeko’s face heated, and not just from the fever.

He blinked rapidly, shifting weakly in Kanai’s arms. “Wh—okay, okay, but—fond of them? What does that even—” He sniffled, his red-rimmed nose twitching slightly. “Wait—d-do you mean like—”

Kanai nodded.

Draeko made a noise.

A small, stuffy, overwhelmed noise.

“Nai, what the fuck?”

Kanai hummed. “It was inevitable that I would begin to analyze their effects, yes?”

Draeko sputtered. His fevered brain was not equipped for this conversation. He sniffled aggressively, trying to clear his mind, but instead, the sudden inhale tickled too much, and he barely had time to catch a breath—

"hhHh'IHSHh’iew! hhHh'KSHhht! hh'ihhTSHH'ueh!"

He collapsed back into Kanai’s chest, too tired to stifle, too tired to care.

Kanai remained silent for a moment.

Then, in a perfectly neutral tone, he mused, “Yes, Luciftias. Like that.”

Draeko groaned, his ears twitching wildly as he tried to sink into Kanai’s hoodie and disappear forever.

“…Nai, I am not having this conversation right now.”

Kanai tilted his head slightly. “Why not?”

Draeko groaned again. “Because I don’t—ugh—I don’t get it!”

He sniffled, voice thick and miserable, rubbing his tender, pink nose against Kanai’s hoodie again without thinking.

Kanai continued his slow, absentminded touches, voice still calm and observant.

“Your breath hitches before release. Your body is overcome with sensation. The tension builds, and then you succumb to it entirely.”

Draeko felt his soul leave his body.

His ears pressed back into his mess of hair, his face heating up as a blush bloomed further into his cheeks.

He sniffled deeply, still lost in Kanai’s hoodie, too sick and tired to fight back.

“…Okay,” he muttered helplessly. “Okay. I mean. I—I guess? I still don’t get it, but sure.”

Kanai hummed in response. “It was an interesting discovery.”

Draeko, exasperated but too drained to argue, sniffled weakly and let out a small, tired sigh.

“…You’re so fucking weird.”

Kanai did not react.

Instead, he simply pressed the damp cloth against Draeko’s forehead again, his free hand returning to gently stroking his back.

Draeko, utterly spent, utterly stuffy, and utterly unwilling to unpack this moment further, just sighed heavily and melted into the contact.

“…Can you just pet my ears now and pretend we never had this conversation?”

Kanai obliged immediately.

The heat was still there. His body still burned beneath the weight of the fever, his cheeks flushed pink, damp strands of hair clinging to his forehead.

Kanai, without thinking, tucked the stray strands behind Draeko’s ear, his cool fingers lingering against fever-warm skin.

Draeko let out a soft, sleepy sigh, his body finally settling.

His fever still burned beneath his skin. His body still trembled with exhaustion.

But he was safe.

Kanai was here.

And Kanai wasn’t leaving.

Draeko’s breath evened out, his body going slack in Kanai’s arms, his tail giving one final, lazy flick before stilling completely.

Kanai waited.

A full ten minutes passed before he finally adjusted his hold, his fingertips brushing lightly against Draeko’s forehead once more.

Still warm. Still fragile.

But no longer alone.

Kanai had been carefully replacing the damp cloth on Draeko’s forehead when he noticed it.

The usual slow, idle drift of stars across Draeko’s horns had changed. Instead of lazily panning across the cosmos, the frame had sharpened—focused.

The image shifted, settling on something closer.

Kanai observed the flickering planets, the shifting coordinates. A precise lock. A location.

His eyes lowered. “…You are tracking.”

Draeko, half-delirious, barely clinging to consciousness, gave a slow, congested sniffle against Kanai’s chest. He blinked glassy, unfocused eyes, trying to process the words.

“Mmh…?” His voice was barely a breath, his horns flickering again—trying, failing, to hold the image.

Kanai hummed, lightly pressing his fingers against the spiraling ridges. The image within them wavered, and then, as if sensing Draeko’s exhaustion, the focus collapsed.

The frame drifted back into its usual slow pan of space.

“…You are too ill to track properly,” Kanai noted.

Draeko just sniffled again, pathetically.

“…’s fine…wasn’ tryin’ to…”

Kanai hummed in acknowledgment, brushing his thumb over the base of Draeko’s horn once, absentmindedly.

“I will monitor for anomalies,” he said simply.

Draeko, too tired to process, mumbled something incomprehensible and melted further into Kanai’s arms.

Draeko slept, but it wasn’t deep. His body twitched in Kanai’s arms, shifting restlessly beneath the blankets, still too warm, still too sick.

Kanai, ever patient, remained still.

Even when Draeko’s hot breath fanned against his collarbone, even when his fevered skin pressed against his own cool frame, Kanai did not move away. His fingers continued their slow, absentminded movements through Draeko’s sweat-damp hair, tracing along the soft strands without conscious thought.

It was an automatic action. A motion meant for soothing, for grounding.

And it worked.

Draeko breathed softly against Kanai’s chest, finally resting. His exhausted frame had gone slack, his fevered body no longer trembling so violently.

Kanai remained still.

His eyes drifted, watching the ever-slowing movement of Draeko’s horns as they settled into their idle sequence.

Planets drifted lazily.

Stars flickered like distant embers in a cosmic tide.

Kanai watched wordlessly, his fingers resuming their slow, steady motion through Draeko’s sweat-dampened hair.

“…Rest, Luciftias.”

The galaxies continued their silent orbit.

Draeko’s breathing remained soft, congested sniffles slipping between quiet, fevered murmurs. Every so often, his tail gave a weak flick, his body reacting to some unseen discomfort before settling once again.

Kanai watched.

Listened.

And when Draeko whimpered softly in his sleep, pressing his face against the fabric of Kanai’s hoodie, Kanai simply tightened his hold—just slightly. Just enough.

Draeko sighed, his warm, clammy fingers twitching against Kanai’s chest before going still again.

Draeko stirred.

Not all at once, not suddenly—just a slow, sluggish shift, his overheated body squirming weakly under the weight of the blankets.

Kanai immediately noticed.

He could feel the heat still radiating off Draeko’s skin, could hear the shallow congestion in every uneven breath. He reached for the cool cloth, still damp, and gently pressed it back to Draeko’s forehead.

A small, pitiful whimper left the mutt’s lips.

“Too cold…” Draeko’s voice was hoarse and congested, barely above a breath as he curled further into Kanai’s chest, tucking his nose into the fabric like a burrowing creature.

Kanai blinked, then pressed the cloth back down anyway.

“You were overheating.”

Draeko whined.

The sound was soft, hoarse, but childishly stubborn.

“…Don’ like it…” he mumbled thickly, sniffling deeply against Kanai’s hoodie. His nose rubbed absently against the fabric, barely processing that he was doing it. “Wanna be warm again…”

“You are already too warm.” Kanai held the cloth in place, ignoring the sleepy protests. “You will overheat again if I remove it.”

Draeko let out a weak, dramatic sigh.

“…’S so unfair…” His tail gave a lazy flick, curling slightly at the tip before falling still again.

Kanai hummed, watching the way Draeko’s ears twitched slightly at the vibration in his chest. His fingers never stopped their soothing patterns, brushing through Draeko’s hair with calculated ease.

“…You are unusually clingy.”

Draeko let out a sleepy, stuffy giggle, his half-lidded, fevered eyes blinking up at Kanai’s blank expression.

“…’Cause you’re comfy.”

Kanai blinked.

He did not know what to do with that information.

So he ignored it.

“…Your fever is still high.” His fingers brushed against Draeko’s temple, pressing lightly as if assessing the temperature again, even though he already knew the result.

Draeko just sighed into him, his stuffed-up breath catching slightly.

“…You’re always so nice to me when I’m sick…” His voice was thick, heavy with congestion.

Kanai hummed. “You are in distress.”

Draeko sniffled hard, his nose scrunching slightly—and then, with no warning, his breath hitched sharply, his body tensing beneath the blankets.

Kanai paused.

Watched.

Draeko’s eyelashes fluttered, his pink nostrils quivering as his lips parted, breath growing uneven—

“Hh’ITSCHH’ueh!—hhHh'IHSHh’iew! hhHh'KSHhht!—hh'ihhTSHH'ueh!”

Each sneeze pitched him weakly forward, his small body shuddering from the force.

Kanai waited.

Draeko’s breath caught again, nose twitching as if overloaded with irritation. His ears twitched, drooping slightly, before another sharp inhale forced him into another fit.

“HhHh'IHSHh’uhh! Hhh… hhHh'KSSHhh’ueh!”

Kanai tensed slightly, the soft, breathy sneezes far too close against his collarbone.

Draeko sniffled thickly, groaning as he pressed his pink nose against Kanai’s chest, snuggling deeper into his hoodie.

“…Hhihh—ihH’ktdSHhh! hiiih’ISHHHh—uhH!! h’dtTISHh! ”

Kanai did not react outwardly.

Instead, he simply reached for the tissue box on the nightstand, plucking one free before bringing it directly to Draeko’s face.

"Blow."

Draeko let out a small, tired whine.

“…T’red…”

"Blow."

Draeko groaned dramatically, but leaned into the tissue, his tiny, fevered sniffles worsening.

Kanai held it firm, his grip steady as Draeko finally complied. The sound was wet, exhausted.

“…nnnngh…,” Draeko groaned weakly, pressing his forehead against Kanai’s collarbone.

Kanai folded the tissue with precision, setting it aside before running his cool fingers down the back of Draeko’s neck.

Draeko sighed.

“…You’re so cold…” He nuzzled further into Kanai’s touch, sniffling softly. “D’know if I wanna fight you anymore…”

Kanai tilted his head slightly. "You were fighting me?"

“…For control of the temperature…”

Kanai blinked.

Then, after a moment:

"You lost."

Draeko let out a sleepy, congested giggle, tucking himself further into Kanai’s chest.

“’Course I did…”

Kanai exhaled slowly, his fingers continuing their slow movements through Draeko’s hair.

Draeko sighed again, his tail curling slightly against Kanai’s leg.

“…’m really glad you’re here.”

Kanai, without thinking, pressed his forehead lightly to the top of Draeko’s head.

“…You were in distress,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“I will always wake up for you, Luciftias”

Draeko melted.

His breathing evened out, his tiny sniffles growing softer, until—finally—his body relaxed completely.

Kanai did not move.

He simply watched the rise and fall of Draeko’s chest, felt the soft warmth of his even, fevered breaths.

Still warm. Still fragile.

But no longer alone.

Draeko woke to the soft sound of bubbling water.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

His body was heavy, aching, like he had been buried under layers of warmth and exhaustion for centuries. His head pounded, his throat was raw, and his nose felt completely clogged.

He sniffled experimentally.

Nothing.

A miserable groan rumbled from his chest, muffled against something solid, warm, and unmoving.

It took another few seconds for his fever-fogged brain to realize where he was.

Kanai.

Draeko blinked blearily, vision swimming, before tilting his head slightly to confirm.

Yep. Still there.

Kanai was still holding him.

Not in an uncomfortable, confining way—but with perfect precision, like he had measured exactly how much weight to apply to keep Draeko comfortable but not trapped.

…Had Kanai even moved all night?

Draeko squinted, voice thick and hoarse when he finally rasped out, “…Did you even sleep?”

Kanai did not hesitate.

"No."

Draeko groaned, pressing his flushed face into Kanai’s hoodie.

“Naiii,” he whined stuffily, sniffling hard against the fabric, voice muffled beyond recognition. “You don’t have to be that nice…snnff!”

Kanai tilted his head slightly, pressing the back of his cool fingers against Draeko’s cheek.

"You would have woken up alone."

Draeko, still groggy and congested, felt his ears twitch weakly at that.

“…Well…yeah," he admitted, sniffling against Kanai’s chest, too tired to argue properly. “But…that’s only ‘cause you’re not supposed to…hh’ihhhSHH’uhh!—stay up the whole night…”

Kanai did not move as the hybrids tiny, exhausted sneeze pitched him weakly forward. He simply reached for a tissue, held it to Draeko’s twitching nose, and waited.

Draeko blinked sleepily.

“…Snnff—oh.”

"Blow."

Draeko sighed dramatically, too tired to put up a fight, and let Kanai gently press the tissue against his pink, stuffy nose.

The sound was embarrassingly wet.

Draeko whined. “Uhhhg… I’b so gross…”

Kanai, unfazed, simply folded the tissue neatly, setting it aside before tilting Draeko’s chin up slightly.

"You are still alive."

Draeko gave him a flat, stuffy look.

“…That’s your bar for success?”

Kanai hummed, lightly smoothing a cool palm over Draeko’s damp forehead.

"Yes."

Draeko groaned again, snuggling deeper into Kanai’s hoodie.

Kanai did not move away.

Instead, he reached for the cup of water on the nightstand—one he had placed there hours ago in preparation—and gently nudged it toward Draeko’s hands.

"Drink."

Draeko pouted, sniffled, and grabbed the cup anyway.

Kanai watched closely as he took small, slow sips, waiting for any signs of discomfort.

“…Better?” he asked once Draeko set the cup back down.

Draeko gave a small, stuffy nod, his ears twitching.

“…Y-yeah… snff! A little…”

Kanai hummed, his fingers finding Draeko’s ears almost on instinct, rubbing small, precise motions into the soft fur.

Draeko melted instantly.

A deep, congested sigh escaped him, his body relaxing completely into Kanai’s touch, ears flicking once before going limp.

Kanai observed this with mild intrigue.

“You respond positively to touch stimulation,” he noted, scratching lightly at the base of Draeko’s ears, his movements slow, practiced.

Draeko sighed again, half asleep.

“…'s juss d’ice…" he slurred. “Dod’t stob…”

Kanai did not stop.

He simply adjusted Draeko’s blankets, checked his forehead again, and settled in silence.

Draeko’s breathing evened out, his tiny sniffles growing softer, his tail giving one final, lazy flick before stilling completely.

Kanai exhaled softly.

“Sleep, Luciftias.”

As Draeko finally slipped into deep, fevered sleep, the swirling images within his horns slowly stilled. No longer flickering between blurry visions or faltering attempts at tracking, they settled into their natural state—a slow, drifting pan of the cosmos.

Nebulae stretched lazily across the curved surface, painted in soft, glowing hues of violet and deep cerulean, dusted with flickering golden stars. The planets shifted in gentle, rhythmic orbit, their movements slow and dreamlike, matching the soft rise and fall of Draeko’s breathing.

Kanai watched in silence.

With each measured inhale, the light in his horns glowed and dimmed, like the pulse of some quiet, celestial heartbeat.

Kanai did not move.

Instead, his fingers drifted absently over Draeko’s damp hair, his touch cool and calculated, yet uncharacteristically tender.

The galaxies in Draeko’s horns continued their unhurried path across the vastness of space.

Kanai, for the first time in hours, allowed his eyes to close, his golden halo sliding slightly askew, and his grip on Draeko never loosening.

Draeko was safe.

And the universe—at least within his horns—slept peacefully with him.