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They say relationships are a journey. A voyage - adventure into the unknown, experiencing everything that is new with the one you love. It is a path that is difficult at times, but eventually, the view at the top will always be worth it.
The thing is - there’s no ‘destination’ for Chan and Felix. There’s no view at the top that will take their breath away. At least, in this lifetime and these circumstances - they don’t have that luxury. They can’t. Chan and Felix can work as hard as they want, as long as they can - but still, never reach that picture-perfect ending. They’re idols. Even when they eventually retire from the spotlight - they’re still idols. That name doesn’t just go away. It’ll stick to them, for as long as they’re alive. Especially with how much they’ve achieved now, the success they have gathered in the short years of being active - someone is always going to be watching them. Analysing their every move. Criticising their every word.
That’s why they can’t have the luxury of being them. Of being together. Not like they want to, at least.
“Hyung, we need to get up.” Felix mumbles into Chan’s bare shoulder, not having any intention to move himself.
Chan lets out a sigh. He hasn’t been feeling the greatest, like a grey cloud is constantly hovering above his head, ready to break at any moment. Everything’s foggy and even when he turns his head to look at Felix, it’s all still a blur.
Felix lifts his head up at Chan’s lack of response, and his eyes soften. It’s easy to read his emotions, especially when you know him as well as Felix does. The elder often tries his best to hide his down moods, to not affect the team dynamic, but Felix can spot it from miles away.
“Hyung, what’s going on in that big brain of yours? Tell me?” Felix moves to rest his chin on Chan’s chest instead, his own body following the up and down of Chan’s breathing.
A small, barely-there smile makes its way to Chan’s lips. There’s no point ever hiding anything from Felix - he knows Chan better than he knows himself. “Just… thinking of the future.” He admits.
The future is a broad topic. The future of what? Stray Kids? Of Chan? The world? Them?
Felix hums, even if he doesn’t really understand. “It scares me, sometimes. Thinking about the future. Because you never really know where life can take you, right? Like, anything can happen at any time.” It’s quite a big topic to talk about at 9 in the morning, but Felix revels in it anyway.
Chan nods, not really making sure if Felix is looking or not (He’s always looking). “Yeah. Anything can happen.”
Chan’s words carry weight both of them weren’t really prepared for. Felix feels his heart break a bit, but he can’t exactly pinpoint a reason why. Not now, at least. Chan lets out another big sigh, and wonders if just for today, he could skip their schedules.
But right then, Changbin comes back into their room and calls out to them. “If you two don’t get out of bed right now, we’re leaving without you.” He says, turning on the room lights just to make sure.
Right. Chan feels silly for even thinking of doing something so selfish.
He sits up, bringing Felix up with him. He rubs a soothing thumb over the younger’s cheek, fondness barely concealed. There are so many words unsaid, so many actions left lingering. Something’s always missing - and they both know exactly what it is. But even with the big, gaping hole in their lives that they know how to perfectly fill up - they can’t. Not now, not soon - and probably not ever.
With that heavy knowledge on their shoulders, they get out of bed and head to their schedules. They spend hours smiling, staring at a countless number of cameras, and pretending everything is completely fine. Because it is, isn’t it? Nothing changed. Nothing actually happened on the top bunk of their bed. They’re okay.
They’re okay.
#
It gets hard. Harder than both of them ever expected. It’s weird, because nothing happened. Nothing happened and yet the days that follow that short conversation feels like an ever-growing weight on them, one that feels like it’ll never end. The members start to notice, of course, they do. Felix, their sunshine, their happy pill Felix - suddenly shrinking into himself more and more. Chan, their reliable leader and rock - suddenly forgetting simple tasks he’s been doing for years. They all notice and they all want to help - but something just tells them they can’t. This hurt feels entirely personal… fragile. As if once they even show any signs of assistance, the ticking time bomb will explode and they’ll be left with more damage than what they started with. Just like how Chan and Felix know each other, the members know them too. They know just when to interfere - and when to not.
Chan tries. He tries to look out for the rest of them - for Felix. Even when he feels like he’s losing all sense of reality - he gathers all the energy in him to make sure the others are okay. It doesn’t always work, but he tries.
“Felix, what’s wrong?” When he sees the younger once again just staring. Staring into space, into nothing.
Felix takes a few seconds to pull himself back to reality, and turns to Chan, eyes blurred and unfocused. Just like Chan’s all those days ago.
“You know what’s wrong, hyung.” He sounds like he’s about to break. Right here, in the dressing room, 20 minutes before they’re scheduled to perform. “You know exactly what’s wrong. Why do you even bother asking? You’re not doing any better yourself.”
The harshness isn’t necessary. Chan has to will himself to not get too emotional. “I do, but I’m trying, Lix. I’m trying.”
“I am too.” Is all Felix says, before he gets up and leaves the room - only returning just as they’re all about to go up on stage.
It’s hard. It’s so hard to deal with a weight you know you can fix but just can’t. Chan wishes it was different. They both do.
Hours later, when they’re all finally back home, Chan brings Felix to his room with a gentle tug of his wrist. Felix follows. (He always does).
They can’t keep going like this. Not when nothing happened. They both have to snap out of it before it all becomes toxic. Maybe it’s a little too late for that too, Chan thinks. He pulls Felix gently to his bed, the memories of that hazy morning coming back. One full circle, or something like that.
“Hey.” Chan calls out.
Felix doesn’t look up from where he’s staring at his hands.
“Little one, look at me?” Chan tries, the affection in his voice unmistakable.
Felix does look up now, eyes already glistening with unshed tears. It breaks Chan’s heart, seeing Felix like this. It tears it up, leaves it bleeding.
“Hey.” Chan just smiles, as he cups Felix’s smaller face in his hands. Gentle, soft, comforting. Maybe it’s because of the time that’s passed, or the atmosphere in the room - but the cloud above Chan’s head starts to feel like it’s fading.
“Hey.” Felix responds simply. He doesn’t smile, not really. But he tilts his head at Chan, curious.
Chan takes a few moments to take Felix in. To run his eyes over every part of Felix’s face, every freckle, every stray strand of hair.
Chan lets out a single breath. It makes his heart feel lighter. “It’s hard, huh? Being us. Having what we have but not being able to do anything about it?”
Felix chuckles, a single tear falling down his cheek. Chan slowly wipes it off. “Yeah. It’s fucking difficult, hyung.”
“But-” Chan has to take a deep breath before he says his next words. “But it’s okay, right? It’s hard. But we love each other, and that’s enough. Yeah?”
Chan is convincing himself as much as he’s trying to convince Felix.
The younger closes his eyes for a few seconds, willing his heart to not burst and the dam behind his eyes to not break. “It’s not enough. Not to me. I want to love you, I want to be able to kiss you whenever I feel the burn in my chest. I want to hold your hand while I shout at the top of my lungs that I’m in love with you, hyung.” This is so much. So much for both of them.
Still, Felix continues. “It’s not enough for me. I don’t think it’ll ever be. But I know we can’t. So I have to accept that it’s enough. That loving each other silently without ever being together is enough.”
Chan knows how he feels. He doesn’t want to accept this reality. He doesn’t want to go with the bare minimum.
But they have to.
“Hey.” Chan’s voice breaks, from how dry his lips and throat are. “Stay.”
Something inside Felix breaks. Maybe it’s a good thing, maybe not. He just knows something shifts - and accepting it feels easier.
“Stay with me. Stay here. Stay by me, no matter how hard it all gets. Can you do that?” Chan hangs on every breath Felix releases.
“Always.” Felix promises.
Relationships are a journey. Most of the time, the destination is clear, concrete. But sometimes, just sometimes - there isn’t one. For Chan and Felix, they don’t have a destination that all these tears and promises will lead them to. There’s no end goal.
But right now? At this very second, the very present? They love each other.
And that’s all that really matters.