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Felix woke up with a song stuck in his head.
He immediately closed his eyes and rolled over, pressing his face into the pillow to ignore the world around him and perhaps sleep another twenty minutes more. He vaguely registered his nose being cold and his eyes crusty from middle-of-the-night tears, but he was so damn tired, he didn’t care. He swallowed, the life returning to his lips, and his ears crackled, the sound of the white noise machine filling them peacefully. His peace was quickly interrupted by a whispered memory weaseling into his ears,
"...I love you, but it feels like we don’t speak the same language …"
He blinked his eyes open, and they burned quickly, the memory of the most recent fight still fresh in his brain. If you could even call it a real fight. Felix had a habit of doing that; of having a conversation about a fight and turning that into a whole new fight. Sniffling quietly, he pulled his head out of the pillow and slowly began to wake up, fresh tears eking out of his eyes as he accepted the memories flowing through him. He couldn't do much else anymore.
Beside him, Chan was wide awake and unmoving. He listened to Felix wake up and try to go back to sleep, and he tried to smile at the endearment, but his lips were frozen shut. He stared up at their bedroom ceiling and let his eyes go dry in pain, waiting for the burn of tears, but it never came. He heard Felix shift slightly next to him, and sniffle ever so quietly, and he closed his eyes. Great.They weren’t even out of bed, and they were both already on the verge of tears. Good fucking morning.
An hour or so later, when Felix shuffled out of the shower, dressed in work clothes, and downstairs into the kitchen, the smell of coffee met his nose, and he stopped. Nobody in the big house drank coffee but him and Jeongin, and Jeongin was away this week. So, who made coffee?
Still damp and sore, he rubbed his eyes and wandered into the kitchen, his hair uncombed yet and his eyes still slightly red. Before he could think, Chan was standing in front of him, eyes down, handing Felix a mug. Peering down, Felix saw the coffee swirl slightly in the mug, mixing with cream and sugar, the way he liked it.
Chan made coffee … for Felix.
A horrid feeling snaked its way around Felix’s stomach, and he squinted, his morning voice low and cracking,
“Is this just b-because we had s-sex last night?” he accused, not taking the cup.
Still looking at the floor, Chan merely shook his head slowly.
The sex hadn’t been good, but it had quenched a certain desire in Felix that he wondered how long would take to grow back and demand attention. They’d fucked too quickly, too much contact right away, but it was addicting, the way Chan shoved him around, onto the bed and up against the bedroom door. It was late, they were both slightly drunk and needy, not knowing what else to do with their buzzing horniness. Felix had started it, pulling Chan away from the gathering in their living room and dragging him to the bedroom, wordlessly.
Chan had finished it, slamming his spend into the most intimate parts of Felix and making him wail with uncontrolled sobs of both pleasure and pain. He’d held Felix as he came, tears streaming down his face, his hands clawing weakly at Chan’s back and they immediately fell asleep, not bothering to redress or clean up, not caring who of their friends cleaned up the party or slept over on their living room couches.
Felix had awoken in the middle of the night, surrounded by Chan’s smell and it unnerved him in his sleep stupor. How could they have done all of that without talking first? He wiggled out of the older boy’s grasp and cleaned himself up in the bathroom, alone, silently, with quiet tears bubbling up again and a nasty feeling settling in his stomach. Without thinking, he fell back in bed, desperate for the quiet and irresponsibility that came with unconsciousness.
“Why did you … why …” he shook his head, staring at the floor, trying to make sense of the mess in his head.
“Just … take it … please. I made it for you, Lix.”
Felix blinked. Yeah, I got that far, asshole. With his fingers shaking he grasped the mug, pulling it to his chest but not taking a sip. He felt lifeless, no blood in his veins, and confusion rushing through him like flood waters. He stared blankly, trying desperately to process.
Chan took a step toward him, and he subconsciously took a step backward, bumping into the kitchen counter.
This seemed to upset Chan, for he huffed and turned around, his shoulders hunching in pain.
“I don’t understand you, Felix … I can’t. I can’t understand you.”
His voice ripped through the kitchen atmosphere like lightning and left Felix feeling even more numb, and he dropped his mug.
The crash echoed around the house and neither of them moved.
“It’s too early for this shit,” Felix found himself whispering, the words tasting like mud as they left his lips, and he turned around to leave, to go somewhere, anywhere, maybe back to his bed to sleep, maybe he needed to get out of the hous-
“Felix, don’t leave …”
Chan’s broken voice ripped him from his thoughts, the tone and emphasis completely different from his earlier declaration. Felix stopped walking and tried not to tear up. What was happening to him? Why did he not want anything to do with this man, the man he’d fallen in love with a thousand times over? Why was he scared?
Was he broken?
Was Chan broken?
Were they fixable?
“I’m so tired, Hyung …”
"Then tell me what's wrong, Lix."
Felix whirled around, his hands coming to grip his hair to keep them from flying away, and his eyes became wide with emotion. Chan mentally prepared for the worst, holding his breath and trying to be strong. Felix swallowed hard, obviously holding himself back, and brokenly whispered, quickly, as if the words would escape from him,
“You … you’re the song in my head and you’re the dirt under my fingernails and I hate you and I can’t fucking get rid of you but at I can’t live without you … you asshole …”
Chan felt like he had been shot. Twice. He held his breath, waiting for the kill shot, and Felix gasped for breath before tearing up and continuing,
“All I do, every day, is wander around feeling like I’m in trouble and trying to figure out what it is that I did wrong and … it doesn’t go away … I don’t want to wake up anymore, if … if it doesn’t go away, hyung …”
The last word broke Chan, and he closed his eyes. He’d missed when Felix called him hyung, when he was just hyung to him … before it all got messed up in between them.
Feeling the strings holding his heart in place softly snap, he spread his hands wide and stuttered, “All I want to do in the world is save you but I can’t even manage to save myself, so how am I supposed to save you? I am … so scared of you leaving sometimes that I can’t move, I can’t breathe …” he stopped, swallowing a scream, “I can’t do anything, all I can do is fucking sit here and apologize a hundred times over and pray that you don’t see through me and realize that I actually am a horrible, horrible person-“
“No, you stop that,” Felix’s eyes narrowed as he took a step forward, emotion pouring out of him, but determined not to let Chan speak about himself like that. He reached for the older boy’s arms, but he was abruptly pushed away, Chan shoving his arms off and stepping backward, knocking forward as he sobbed through his words, his eyes fiery,
“Please, Lix … please, I can’t, don’t, don’t see me … I can’t do it if-if-if you leave, too …” he crossed his arms in front of him for protection and bent forward, heaving with tears.
Felix stood, shocked at being pushed away, and felt his heart breaking. He should have known. This was how all their arguments ended.
Suddenly, Chan was on his knees in front of Felix, his arms wrapped around the boy’s waist, and burying his face in the folds of Felix’s shirt, screaming through wracking sobs. Felix, stunned and broken, slowly brought his hands to run through Chan’s hair, feeling his shirt become damp with the man’s tears. The room became cold, the air turned to smoke, and Felix felt his throat begin to close.
How the fuck were they going to fix this?
two weeks later
They sat on opposite ends of the large, yellow sofa, and tried not to think about the space that stretched between them. Felix sat with his legs crossed, his hands tucked between his thighs to keep them from fidgeting, and he bit his lip repeatedly throughout the appointment. Chan was sitting with his elbows propped on his knees, his head resting on his hands … and he stared emptily ahead, stone still, blinking every few seconds. Across from them, their therapist was calmly taking notes in her green, leather-bound journal.
The day had started with Felix accidentally burning a slice of bread in the toaster and waking Chan up two hours before his alarm was set to go off by the smoke alarm beeping throughout their apartment. Chan had gotten so angry that he’d cried … frustratingly explaining to Felix for the hundredth time that he switched shifts now so it was imperative that he sleep solidly until 9 am. Felix had already been upset that he’d forgotten that the toaster timer dial had broken, and he had apologized profusely … but Chan was so upset, he didn’t stop stomping around the house, slamming doors and huffing and swearing until he left for work at 11. Felix had stared, red-hot angry tears brimming in his eyes, at the apartment door slamming behind his boyfriend as he left. He hated it when they fought on the day they had to be at therapy, it created this massive rift between them, stifling the possibility of attempting to make amends. It made Felix feel terribly, terribly lonely … all because of a god-damned piece of fucking toast.
They’d started having hiccups like this in their relationship a few months ago, and it terrified Felix to the point where he stopped sleeping well and eating, which freaked Chan out, which made Felix even more stressed, and the circle continued. The small arguments popped up every few weeks, and the communication worsened, the emotions escalating … until their friends started noticing.
Hyunjin, who lived in the apartment next to theirs with Changbin, had been the first to clock the way the two of them shied away from each other at gatherings, the PDA disappearing entirely, and the fake smiles. He showed up one day at the breakfast table of their apartment and braved off tears while spelling out what he had noticed to his two hyungs.
"Is it ... like, are you fighting?"
Felix had hung his head and silently cried; Chan had walked away, fearing he would say something that would hurt Felix or worse.
Hyunjin, fear rooting deep in his chest, frantically asked Felix, "Are you going to break up?"
Felix had murmured, trying to collect himself, "I don't know, Jinnie."
Seungmin, who lived with Felix and Chan, along with his boyfriend, Jeongin, noticed the lack of ... intimacy shortly thereafter. He approached them, no prelude, and deadpanned, "You two haven't had sex in weeks. What's going on?"
Chan choked on his coffee, "How do you know that?"
The younger leaned against the kitchen counter, unfazed, his brow furrowed. "I hear everything in this house, hyung. It's not a big deal. But what's going on? If you need help, Minho-hyung can recommend-"
Felix cut him off, covering his face in his hands, "Seungmin, what? Oh, my God, please, just ..." he groaned loudly and left the room.
Seungmin nodded to Chan, who had been staring, blankly, his eyes slightly wet, "You guys ready to get some help?"
Two weeks and two very hard but very loving confrontations later, their closest friends paid for and forced them to attend couples' therapy.
So here they were.
Their first appointment had been the hardest. The woman was so kind, and she was asking all the right questions, it just … felt like shit. Felix had found himself thinking several mantras to himself to keep him grounded throughout the entire session. When he normally would feel safe enough to grab Chan’s hand for grounding … he didn’t this time. He went back to how he took care of himself before he and Chan got together.
Chan had to bite his lip hard the entire time in order to keep the screams and cries from becoming voices. He listened and took notes and watched Felix’s face as the session progressed. He did what he was supposed to, he answered all the questions honestly, even when they felt like driving a stake through his heart when he did, he did it. He did everything right. They did everything right. They had a plan for the next week, and it even seemed feasible.
But now, they sat in the parking lot, silent tears tracking down their cheeks and chins, both staring out the windshield as it rained onto the car. Felix had his hands in his lap, his white sweater still wrinkled from not drying properly, and his blond hair whisping in front of his eyes in a way that made him look terribly lost, Chan thought.
Make the first step. To get better, you just have to start. You can start anything.
Slowly, not bothering to wipe his eyes or nose, Chan reached over the center console and offered his hand to his boyfriend. Slowly, he waited, giving Felix as much time as he needed. Slowly, he offered his broken and bloody heart for healing.
Felix’s eyes flitted down to Chan’s hand, blinking his heavy, clumped lashes, his mind too tired to think of the possible threats. He stared for a long moment, feeling the abyss that was his heart ache with every passing second, before finally, with trembling fingers, he took Chan’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together tentatively.
Chan tried to smile but it got stuck in his teeth, his mouth going dry quickly. All he could do was hold Felix’s hand and squeeze the lithe, smaller fingers in his. His breath steadied, getting used to the feeling, and he braved a moment of possible peace.
Before he could think about leaving or saying anything in place of an apology, Felix pulled Chan’s hand up to his lips, holding it with both hands in front of his mouth. Chan looked up, confused, and his heart broke when he saw Felix still staring out the window, their hands pressed to his mouth, catching tears and fractured pieces of his mind, and the boy slowly started kissing Chan’s knuckles, one by one, lips quivering as he took small, shaking steps toward healing.
The buzzing feeling that had been stuffed under his skin for months became unbearable, and the need to do something flooded his eyes, blurring his vision, and causing a pained sound to rip from his throat unbidden. He closed his eyes and leaned back into his seat, sinking into his hoodie for limited comfort. Felix’s trembling lips continued to float over his calloused hands, the feeling traveling down his arm and straight to his chest, lodging there painfully.
After a moment, Felix pulled their hands down to his lap to sit there, quietly. His hoarse whisper filled Chan’s ears, and he was gently pulled out of his head, a firm but fragile readiness taking over his body.
“Can we go home, now, hyung?”
He swallowed hard, licking his dry lips and feeling the dried tear tracks crinkle on his face. He nodded, his neck cracking. He wordlessly started the car, turning on both seat warmers, the windshield wipers and the crunchy radio, and pulled out of the parking lot, one-handed.
They'd gotten home, and Minho was sitting on their steps, a drink tray of hot chocolates in his hand. Chan and Felix walked up the driveway, and Chan sighed at Minho's soft, knowing smile. As Felix wiped his eyes for the last time, Minho wordlessly handed them each a cocoa and gave Felix a hug and Chan a friendly punch on the arm before walking down the street towards his own apartment. He had a habit of doing that ... taking care of the boys without saying a word and then leaving.
Inside, Hyunjin was waiting for them in the living room, gently saying that he had made dinner for them, so they didn't have to worry about it. Felix looked over Hyunjin's shoulder to see the crockpot and rice cooker all set up and ready on the counter and the sink devoid of dishes. A massive wave of gratefulness flowed through him, and he sank his head into his best friend's shoulder, feeling Chan's hand on his back in support.
"Love you guys," Hyunjin whispered as he slipped his shoes on and left for his apartment.
Chan and Felix stood in their living room and just breathed for several long moments. Softly, gentle music from Seungmin's and Jeongin's rooms drifted up the stairs. The sun finished setting and the night closed in around them, shrouding their exhaustion in a soft blanket.
Slowly, Felix toed off his shoes and stretched his neck.
Chan watched, his stomach sinking, but he ignored it. He was just tired. It had been a big day. It wasn't a big deal. He shrugged and took off his jacket, getting ready for a quiet night in.
“So … gentlemen … there are two things I want you promise me you will practice. This won’t work unless you do your best to follow these two things.” Sharon looked over her glasses at the two, who twiddled their hands and one after the other, nodded. She huffed and laid her notebooks on the table so she could count on her fingers as she spelled it out.
“One. You must not speak about what you talked about during your session the second you get home. Don’t … hash things out until they’ve settled truly in your heads, alright? You’re both here because you want to fix and heal things … and that includes giving the other the privacy and peace they need to learn and grow. That includes not pouncing on the other the second you get home from a session. Am I heard?” Once again, she looked at them over her glasses, making them feel like scolded children.
Chan was the first to speak, “Okay. I think I can remember that. It’s a good idea.”
Felix looked up numbly and nodded, humming his agreement.
Sharon nodded, looking from one to the other, and smoothly continued. “Two. You have to do one thing on the way home that is special for both of you and that you only do on days that you have a session. I’m not talking about sex. I mean, go get a thing of ice cream, or go walk along the river and look at the ducks. Something that, subconsciously, your brain can associate with therapy sessions in a way that equates it to a pleasant feeling. Some sessions leave you feeling exhausted or vulnerable, and some force you to relive things you don’t want to, so doing something special just for you two … will ease your mind.”
This time, Felix murmured, without looking up from his hands, “We can do that, yeah.”
He felt Chan look over at him and he squirmed. He wasn’t used to speaking for the both of them, but it flew out of his mouth before he could stop it. Holding his breath, he slowly looked over, but … Chan was gently smiling at him, his eyes slightly wet. Maybe that’s just how they looked all the time now. Felix didn’t know.
After their hour was up, Chan wordlessly drove them through a drive-thru, and they each got one chocolate chip cookie, sitting on a bench in the park across the street. While they sat and ate, Felix's phone lit up with an email saying he'd been chosen for a new shoot at his modeling agency. He tilted the phone so Chan could see as well, and the man nodded happily and gave a thumbs up, smiling quietly.
The next week, they sat at the same bench, this time with oatmeal raisin cookies because the shop was out of chocolate chip. It was raining that day and Chan had made Felix use the umbrella. Felix's leg bounced a little erratically this week, so Chan gently let his hand rest on it, rubbing small circles into the ripped jeans, Felix calming almost immediately.
The fourth week, they sat a little closer, thankful for chocolate and not fucking raisins, and Felix found himself pressing a little closer to his boyfriend for warmth, not knowing what else to do. Slowly, making sure Felix had time to wiggle away if he needed to, Chan wrapped his arm around the blond's shoulders, tucking him closer.
Week five saw them holding hands, knees bouncing gently together in unison, the cold making their breath fog up. A v of geese flew by over their heads, and they watched, both smiling softly. As the sun set and the automatic streetlights around them started to blink on for the night, Felix squeezed Chan's hand, his non-verbal que he was ready to go home.
Six weeks in, it snowed, and Felix grinned, catching snowflakes on his tongue, his eyes still wet and red from talking about his childhood. But he didn’t care. Chan loved him either way. Their session had been about emotional availability, and both of them had to come to the conclusion that not much of their childhoods had been very full of the stuff. It was rough, but they had determination buzzing in their veins on the drive home.
On the seventh week, Chan leaned down to kiss away a smear of chocolate from the corner of Felix’s mouth, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Felix's sharp gaze lingered on Chan's eyes, and he let it happen. He let Felix pour into him with his eyes, searching for something. It was a strange feeling, and he felt vulnerability ripple through him like nausea, but he couldn't move if he tried. A flicker of something flashed in Felix's eyes before he looked down and squeezed the older man's hand.
It was Jeongin's birthday, and they had all gathered at Chan's and Felix's since it was the biggest. It was loud, there was drink, there was food, there was laughing till tears flowed freely.
Several hours in, Changbin elbowed Chan in his ribs and said loud enough to be heard over the music but low enough to be just for Chan,
"How's therapy going, hyung?"
Drunk enough to actually access his feelings, Chan nodded emphatically and replied, "I think it's working. We ... talk more. Yeah." He blinked into his drink and swayed a little. He ignored the feeling running through his head that he was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wr-
Changbin smiled. "That's great, hyung. I'm glad." He looked at Chan like he was proud, excited even.
Because he was on a roll, Chan continued, feeling the words come out of his mouth before his brain could register the complete thoughts.
"I think ... I don't think he hates me anymore. Like," he gestured wildly with his arms, "Like I was so scared all the time, but now that, like, I hear him talk about things ... I think he's just ... like, I gotta take care of him, too ..." His eyes became sad, and he looked at Changbin like he was just a little boy, "I'm not scared he's gonna, like, not anymore, like ... I don't know." wrong, wrong, wron-
Slowly, the music blaring around them and the lateness of the hour making him soft, Chan closed his eyes and laid his head on his best friend's shoulder, sighing deeply.
Changbin, stunned slightly at his hyung's words, patted Chan's back slowly. "Okay ... hyung, let's get you to bed, okay?"
They had gotten back from their eighth session, and Felix had driven them home, since Chan had a headache at the time. They’d spoken of a lot of things during their session, Felix opened up about his childhood more and Chan found himself startled at a few things, re-evaluating how he responded to his boyfriend’s trauma. It was a good step they took, but it left them winded. They drove home in silence and went about their afternoon at home like normal.
Later that night, Jisung stopped by to help Felix with a project he needed to finish for work that weekend. The two of them were both signed to the same model agency and frequently spent hours putting portfolios together. Now they were sat on the big bed, the house empty aside from them; Chan had gone out with Minho for dinner, and the younger two who lived in the lower floor were out seeing a movie on a rare date.
After several hours of browsing through shots and outfits, Jisung whispered, gently,
"Are you and Chan-hyung doing any better?"
Felix's head snapped up, but before he could respond, Jisung smiled encouragingly, "You ... you look like you're doing better."
The blond smiled softly and nodded, looking down, slightly embarrassed. Jisung felt his heart twinge in his chest, and he tried not to let his worry show on his face.
"Yeah, we, um ... yes, I think so. We haven't had a real check-in, yet, that's not for a few more weeks, but ..." he nodded again and swallowed hard, "We're doing better, yes."
Jisung nodded and whispered, "Okay, now what does that mean, really?"
Felix scrunched up his nose, his hands starting to tremble in his lap. Slowly, Jisung put one arm around the boy's shoulder, letting him take his time and breathe.
Soon, Felix looked up and whispered back, "I ... I'm not ... I'm not scared, anymore. So, that's nice." He let one tear slide down his face before Jisung wrapped him in his arms, feeling his stomach drop, having no words.
Chan slammed his hand down on the counter, wincing at the impact. He stared down into the sink and tried to breathe. The argument had been ridiculous, but it got under his skin too quickly for him to notice. His temper ran away from him and now they stood in the kitchen, Felix's eyes wide with fear and Chan's shoulders shaking with anger. He was already late to work, his pants hadn't dried correctly in the dryer, and his nose was stuffy. He was beyond uncomfortable ... and arguing with Felix made him feel infinitely worse about himself. There was seemingly no end to what he could fuck up.
The older man tried to keep his voice soft as he reasoned,
“You drive me insane, Felix, but … I’m trying, okay? We’ve done well-“
Felix cut him off, putting his head in his hands and crying out, brokenly.
“Fuck what we did and fuck how I feel about you.”
Chan stared up at Felix, his mouth set in a firm line. Felix was breathing heavily, and his eyes burned a little. A lot. He stepped back from the counter and looked at the floor, internally bracing himself for whatever Chan was about to throw at him in retaliation.
“You feel better now?” Chan’s voice was shockingly soft, and Felix looked up in shock.
“Wh-what?”
“Does it feel better to get that out?” The older man slowly walked around the kitchen island to face Felix, his hands in his pockets and his face … unreadable.
Felix swallowed hard, feeling his heart turn in circles, not sure what to feel right now. He looked up at Chan and tried to read him. The man’s shoulders were sunken a little, giving away just how tired he was, and his head cocked to the side gently in thought. His eyebrows were knit carefully, almost sympathetically.
“Aren’t you tired, Lix-ah?” Chan whispered.
Felix inhaled too quickly. “Don’t do that to me, don’t …” he felt his resolve splinter and break, and all he wanted in the world was to sink into the man’s arms and never come out again. Nothing could even come close to what it felt like to be in Chan’s embrace … it was safe. It was home. He missed it so much.
Chan walked closer, his hands coming between them to ask for Felix’s, and open, quiet, offering.
“I miss you …”
“Don’t …” Felix crouched low, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his insides being ripped apart. He cried and his hands shook, subconsciously reaching for Chan. Before he could think, the man’s arms were holding him up and turning him into his shoulder, wrapping him up in his smell. Felix sobbed and clung to him like a barnacle, soaking the feeling up like a sponge. He felt Chan pick him up, but after that … his mind went a little foggy. He closed his eyes to avoid getting dizzy as Chan carried him up the stairs, and then it all went warm and dark very fast.
Felix startled when the shower curtain parted and Chan stepped in next to him, the water sinking into his dark hair and shrinking it away from his face, his eyes on the floor as he closed the curtain again. The blond man stopped what he was doing and furrowed his brow, whispering,
“Wh-what are you doing?”
Chan, without looking up, grabbed a washcloth and began soaping it up. “I’m not allowed to shower with my boyfriend?” The words might have come out too sharp, but everything sounds different in the shower, so …
Felix was still a little hurt, feeling creeping pains in his stomach. “Well, you haven’t for months. It’s a bit out of character.” He stared, trying to keep the tears from leaking out. God, why did he have to cry over everything these days?
Chan looked up, and Felix was locked in his eyes, the deep brown soul that twinkled at him sadly from behind layers of thoughts and emotions. Chan continued lathering the washcloth and looking at Felix before whispering,
“I’m sorry … I’m trying … to be better …”
Felix felt his shoulders relax when Chan reached for him and turned him around, touching him with the soapy water and washing his shoulders and back. The air between them, filled with water and steam, became soft and muffled … as if they were dreaming, the exhaustion from the last few days coming to an abrupt front.
Chan washed Felix tenderly, effortlessly, for he still knew every crevice, valley, and line of Felix’s body … where he started and where he ended. Felix closed his eyes, too tired to argue, and let it happen. He sunk into the feeling of being cared for and let the water wash him away. Chan turned him in the direction he wanted, his big hands gentle and careful, and Felix had missed them.
When the older man began to lather Felix’s hair, Felix felt the hands begin to shake, ever so softly, almost inconceivably. He cracked his eyes open, blinking the hot water away, and focused on the man’s face in front of him, the eyes concentrated on Felix’s hair.
Chan began to weep. Very softly, almost as if he didn’t notice himself, and watching made Felix want to pick him up and take him somewhere safe forever, someplace he never had to leave, never needed for anything, and never had to cry again. The blond man reached up and softly grasped Chan’s hands, mid-rinse, and Chan looked down, startled that Felix had been watching, before lowering his hands, a blush flickering over his face as he looked down, sniffling, his eyes red from tears.
Felix stepped into Chan’s space and, not knowing what else to do, wrapped his arms around his waist and sunk his face into his shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a deep, grounding breath before swaying side to side.
Chan stared ahead for a moment before registering Felix’s attempt at grounding and comforting him. He involuntarily returned the embrace, his limbs jerking into action in order to save his mind, and he melted into Felix … their chests moved together with every breath, and they rocked back and forth in a steady rhythm, taking time and space to come back to one another, connecting in a way they had abandoned for months.
Felix felt his heart warm up, his head grow pleasantly calm. Chan closed his eyes as the fire in his skin died down and the pain in his head ebb away with the water down the drain.
They finished showering in silence, Felix washing Chan’s hair and body and Chan giving light kisses to Felix’s scar on his shoulder.
“… thank you, hyung …”
Felix was running a comb through his damp hair as they sat in the bedroom, half-dressed and still warm and foggy from the bathroom.
Chan turned around from where he was grabbing a shirt from his closet. His eyes lit up in curiosity and he whispered back,
“For why?”
The blond man set the brush down and turned his body, so he was facing Chan, one leg folded under him like a cat. He was wearing black boxers and a white tee shirt that was Chan’s at one point, he was pretty sure. He waited a few seconds before answering, looking at the floor and picking at a hangnail absent-mindedly.
“For … for trying.”
Chan nodded quietly and leaving the shirt, walked over to Felix and sat down next to him, the air beginning to feel cold on his torso. He slowly reached over and put a hand on Felix’s knee.
“What’s going on …” he tapped Felix’s temple with his other hand lightly, “in there?”
Felix looked up and smiled shyly. He shook his hair out of his face and wrinkled his nose.
“Nothing. I just was thinking of the last time we showered together. Overthinking, that’s all.” He smiled reassuringly, feeling the warmth from Chan’s hand seep into his leg and up to his chest. The room got quiet, and he waited for Chan to snicker or make fun of him. Or maybe not say anything at all.
“The time Hyunjin told us to shut up? Or when I fell because Min left his shirt on the floor?”
Without thinking, Felix cackled out loud, missing the look of delight that crossed Chan’s face at the sound. “No, but those were great, too.” He sighed and patted Chan’s hand. “No, I was thinking of when you bought me a new set of body wash and it ended with us on the floor for a while. You don’t remember?”
Chan froze for a split second as the memories hit.
Felix was on his back, his arms stretched behind him and clutching the edge of the bathtub, his face flushed beautifully, and his mouth open in a soundless scream. Their legs were locked together, and Chan stopped worrying about where he ended and Felix began, they felt molded together ... one piece, moving in unison and singing a chorus Chan couldn't pass up. He felt time freeze at the sight and for the first time, combined with the cold sweat that came with post-shower sex, the adrenaline rushing through his veins, and the hot breath ghosting on his body ... he felt powerless to Felix. His fingers grew numb and the only clear thought in his mind was just Felix, Felix, Felix, Felix, Feli-
Chan blinked and took a deep breath, looking down at their hand laced together on Felix’s bare knee. He felt Felix stiffen next to him and gathered all of his courage to look at the boy’s face, his shoulders tight and his stomach rolling in fear. He had to get this out. He had to let Felix in on this piece … this horrid, wrinkled, little piece of him.
Slowly, his eyes still locked on Felix, who looked like he was ready to cry, he got on his knees in front of him, pulling him to sit on the edge of the bed, and held their hands on his lap, looking intently up at the blond.
“Of course, I remember, Lix-ah … can I tell you what I remember?”
He felt Felix grow under their hands at the low tone he adopted, the dangerous look in his eyes, and their intimate proximity, and he let a soft smirk shade his lips.
Felix nodded, licking his lips, his eyes wide and wondering. Chan watched as he continued to grow and squirm and the heat between them rose a fraction of an inch.
“I remember … feeling like I could never get enough of you,” Chan leaned forward and lay his head in Felix’s lap, his eyes aching from the angle as he held Felix’s gaze, his voice rumbling and vibrating into the man’s lap.
“You were such a tease that day, slipping through my fingers constantly, and I was scared … I know, shocker,” he rolled his eyes, punching a laugh out of Felix, and continued, “but I was. I wanted to tie you up, Lix…”
Felix gasped, a choked-off sound, and his hands gripped Chan’s tightly as they breathed together for a moment before Chan kept going, words wrapping around Felix like ropes, strong and powerful.
“I wanted to … fold you up and put you in my pocket to keep forever. I wanted to …” he swallowed hard, and his voice faded to a whisper, “I wanted to make you mine, Lix-ah.”
An ocean of relief flooded his veins, and he felt one single tear run down his left cheek, seeping into the fabric of Felix’s boxers, and he closed his eyes, hearing the words circle the room like a roaming ghost, settling into Felix’s ears and absorbing into his body, making his fingers tremble and his breath shake in his chest.
When Chan cracked his eyes open and tilted his head up to see his boyfriend, Felix had his head tipped back and a soft expression on his face, gazing gently up at the ceiling, his eyes flickering back and forth in thought. He squeezed Chan’s hands before looking down, and Chan noticed a new sparkle in the boy’s eyes.
Felix leaned down to kiss the top of Chan’s head, and the older boy leaned into the touch like a starving man.
“I wanted to be yours … “
They drove in silence for a long time, the streetlights casting a soft yellow light into the dark car as they went by, and the cold air whistling through the window fluffing their hair quietly. Felix’s hand started to get sweaty in Chan’s hold, so he slipped it out, but found he still needed some kind of contact.
Now, they drove in silence once more, Felix’s head resting on Chan’s shoulder, and he began to drift off.
Chan looked down at the blond tuft of hair on his shoulder when he heard Felix snicker quietly to himself.
“What is it?” he asked and felt Felix shake his head slowly.
“Just have a song in my head.”
Chan smiled lightly. “What is it?”
“Don’t know yet,” Felix sighed, nuzzling closer to Chan’s neck, ghosting a kiss over his skin.
“Can you sing it for me?” They slowly merged onto the empty highway, the clock reading 4:18 am, the moon shining through the windshield, and the air becoming clearer the farther they got from the city.
Felix began to hum, a scratchy, low sound, thick with sleep, but sweet as honey in Chan’s ears. The sound stirred something inside of him and he felt his hands go numb gripping the steering wheel. Felix continued humming and Chan continued feeling high, and before he could think, Felix’s hand was traveling down his chest and onto his thigh, rubbing small circles into his jeans, his long fingers sending lightning bolts to every corner of his body. He got to the end of the melody and pressed a firm kiss into the side of Chan’s neck, his eyelashes fluttering against the skin as well, and Chan lost his mind.
His eyes rolling back into his head briefly, he set his indicator on and pulled over to the side of the highway, a dark, secluded area with plenty of pine trees to shelter them. Before he could think clearly, he slammed the car in park, frantically unclipped his seatbelt, and gathered Felix into his arms, pulling him into his lap and kissing him furiously.
Felix went willingly, wrapping his arms around Chan’s shoulders and, eyes still peacefully closed in exhaustion, kissing back with matching buzzing energy. His legs fit perfectly straddling Chan’s hips, and with one hand, Chan reached down and slid the seat back so there was plenty of room, his legs stretching out so he could lean back, Felix on top of him.
They got home considerably later than they planned.
Chan stood in the breezeway of the big house, and shrugged off his jacket, placing his book bag and his headphones on the hooks above the bench that sat next to the front door. He sat down on the bench to take off his shoes and got through one set of laces before he noticed Felix hadn’t moved yet.
When he looked up, Felix’s eyes darted sharply to his, and … there was a strange look in the blond man’s eyes, completely different than the pliant, velvet-soft man in the car an hour ago. A haunted, dangerous look laced his face, with a shadow of anger ... but overpowering all of that was Felix’s signature sassy glare, daring Chan to do something. An open challenge, see-if-you-can-stop-me, obnoxious look, and it took Chan by surprise. He stopped untying his shoes and sat up slowly, leveling Felix’s look with one of his own, appraising the boy up and down, hard.
When they locked eyes again after looking him over, Chan nodded once, swiftly, before gesturing to the space on the floor in between his knees with one, authoritative finger.
Felix shut the door behind him and didn’t bother shedding his jacket or shoes, walking swiftly to Chan and kneeling in front of him, all the while staring into the elder’s soul, piercing him with unspoken dares and demands. Passively, Felix shook his hair over his shoulders, out of the way and blinked, waiting.
Chan let his kneel there, his gaze unmoving, for several moments, seeing the impatience begin to squirm underneath the boy’s skin as he did so. After a while, Chan put out his hand and gently touched Felix’s chin, bringing his face closer, leaning him closer, and he leaned in, so they were inches apart, before murmuring, his low, powerful voice cracking with arousal,
“You’re ready to be a good boy, now?”
He watched the words drill holes into Felix’s ears, making his eyes dilate and his mouth hung open eagerly, and the boy nodded his head, slowly.
Chan nodded and let go before leaning back against the bench, tearing his eyes away from the beautiful, panting young man on his knees in front of him. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text message before leaning over to lock the front door.
Minho looked up at his phone and rolled his eyes so hard they hurt. He shouted loud enough for Hyunjin and Jisung to hear him from the other room.
“Everyone, stay in your rooms! Don’t go upstairs!”
He grumbled as he turned back to his textbooks, turning up the volume on his earbuds, once more rolling his eyes.
Felix clasped his hands behind his back as he sucked, closing his eyes when Chan began breathing small moans and curses, and before very long, a familiar bitter taste filled his mouth, and he had to bite back a smile at the satisfied feeling flooding his stomach and the pleasant wave crashing through his mind. He swallowed and pulled off Chan’s cock slowly, giving an obnoxious pop at the end, and sat back on his knees, feeling pleased with himself and the adrenaline from the teasing beginning to wear off.
He heard Chan zip close his jeans and buckle his belt, and sighed before cracking his eyes open, his shoulders finally relaxing. His hands ached a little from not moving them for the last fifteen minutes, but he didn’t care. It was worth it to give Chan-
“Get up here.”
His eyes shot open wider, and he looked at Chan, who he saw was now looking at him sharply, his mouth a sharp, straight line, and a ripple of anxiety thread through Felix’s stomach. The adrenaline was back with a new fury, and he slowly rose on shaky legs, not knowing what to do with his hands.
Awkwardly, he stood, towering over his boyfriend, who was still shooting daggers, despite his red cheeks and dark, post-orgasm eyes.
Felix whispered, not able to take the silence anymore, “Am … am I in trouble?”
Chan simply raised his eyebrows and slowly nodded, sending tremors of heat straight to Felix’s cock, rumbling in his stomach, and he barely stifled a moan. He stared as Chan stood up, feeling his breath freeze in his chest, and the older man wordlessly took his hand and led him to their bedroom.
Once the door was closed behind them, Chan’s grip on his hand tightened.
“The front door, Lix? Are you fucking insane? We don’t live alone!” There was a note of disbelief in Chan’s voice, and it made Felix feel pride for his teasing actions; despite knowing he was in it.
Chan turned on the lamp on his bedside table, illuminating the room in soft, yellow light, and swiftly took off his shirt, leaving him in grey sweatpants and a black tank top. Felix slowly shook off his jacket in return, still silent. He knew he wouldn’t be able to speak until it was almost over, so he didn’t fight it. He watched Chan, who watched him, as he unbuckled his belt and waited for his boyfriend’s instructions. Feeling his stomach burn in arousal, he lowered his eyes.
“And you knew the boys were over today, to study downstairs … and any of them could have come up at any point.”
Chan walked over to him slowly, his steps nearly silent, and Felix bravely took a deep breath in preparation. Chan smacked his ass, hard. It stung for a moment, but he didn't have time to think about it, for the glint in his boyfriend's eyes took over every area of his mind.
“I was going to give you the spanking of a lifetime. But I’m fucking the daylights out of you. Understood?”
His eyes threatening to roll back into his skull, Felix whispered, licking his dry lips, “Understood, hyung.” He felt warm all over and his head was decently fuzzy, the guilt and embarrassment that came with the thought of being punished flowing freely through him.
Chan pulled him closer to kiss him stupid, the man’s gentle hands holding Felix’s face tenderly, despite the residual burning in his ass. Felix sighed and relaxed into the kiss.
Pulling back to breathe, Chan whispered, "You fucking pain in my ass ... I love you. Okay?"
Felix nodded, opening his eyes and sniffing slightly. When had he started crying? “… okay,” he murmured, and let Chan lay him down on his back on the bed where he wanted him, pulling his boxers off and hiking his knees up to his chest.
Slowly coming back to himself after the bruising kiss, Felix heard himself whine at Chan’s finger entering him, a long, breathy sound that reflected in the sparkle of Chan’s eyes. He squirmed as fingers two and three were added, stretching and reaching for the spot inside him that would give Chan complete and utter control.
Felix closed his eyes, stretching his hands comfortably above his head, and gasped when Chan’s fingers were suddenly gone, but before he could complain, they were replaced by something longer and thicker, warm and wet, and pulsing.
Mind going blank, and his knees shaking of their own accord, Felix felt Chan lean over him, placing soft kisses to his neck and chest as he thrust deeper and deeper, until they were both gasping for air. Soon, they were rocking into each other, chasing something unspoken, a swift and harsh rhythm building. Chan cried out as he came for the second time that evening, this time deep inside Felix, and the sound was all the younger boy needed to be pushed over the edge, covering both of their stomachs in his spend. Chan collapsed on top of Felix and they both curled into each other, welcoming the bliss and ignorance that followed, only knowing each other’s embrace.
“I’m sorry for teasing you …” Felix muttered, eyes closing briefly and his neck starting to ache.
He felt Chan stir in his arms and when the older propped himself up on his elbows over Felix so he could look at him, was filled with warmth at the smile on the man’s face.
“No, you’re not …” Chan whispered, and Felix giggled, turning his head into the pillow to hide.
Minho was watching Felix from across the dinner table for what was going to be three hours now. He'd noticed something was off the second he and Jisung had walked through the door that night but decided to hold his questions until he knew for certain. Now, hours into the meal, the sound of all their friends talking and laughing over each other drowning out any doubts, his eyes lasered in on the man.
Felix was dressed ... loosely, if that was possible. He wore his baggy linen pants and a large, white sweater that swamped him, highlighting his blond hair. He floated through the apartment and smiled tiredly, a sweet sparkle in his eyes each time. Minho noticed the way he struggled to take deep breaths when he thought no one was watching him and the way his hands shook when he sat down next to his boyfriend, as if scared to reach for the man's hand when he so obviously needed it. Minho watched the younger man pick his nails anxiously, a small smile plastered to his face to avoid questions. Finally, Felix got up to bring a stack of empty plates back to the kitchen and Minho jumped at the opportunity to pounce on his hyung.
"Channie-hyung," he murmured into the man's ear, dangerously. Chan turned sharply, having not noticed Minho creep up behind him.
"What?" Chan asked, confused. Minho rolled his eyes, crouching low and whispering obnoxiously, perplexed his hyung needed this much help,
"When are you going to tell him?" He raised an eyebrow, annoyed.
Chan's face fell instantly. He looked around to make sure nobody had heard them before leaning in and whispering, anxiety painting his face in worried lines,
"I'm not ... I don't know."
Minho smirked, leaning back, gesturing to the kitchen, "Yeah. I know. That's why Felixie is feeling subby, and you can't even see it."
Chan's eyes widened and Minho saw the exact moment he put the pieces together. He stepped aside for his hyung to stand up and rush to the kitchen, presumably to rescue Felix from his own mind, and smiled into his drink. They were getting there. Slow as fucking molasses, but they were getting there.
It was over three months of therapy later, when Felix had an important dinner he needed to attend for work. Jisung had also been invited, and between the two models, they had a smattering of invitations to give out, so all eight of them bought overnight hotel rooms and made it a fun trip, taking their first group vacation since senior year of college. It was good.
Dinner went well, the wine was terrible, the smiles were forced for the first hour, and the outfits were beyond uncomfortable, but it went well. Felix had great conversations with other people from his company, and he felt good about the interactions. Chan got to enjoy the good music and the taste of being a trophy husband for the first time, and it sat well on his shoulders. He watched Felix waltz around the floor, wine glass hanging attractively between his long fingers, and a sweet smile on his face, the black of his sheer shirt making his blue eyes and blond hair pop. They enjoyed it despite themselves and later stumbled through the hotel room door with soft smiles still adorning their faces.
Chan went to the bathroom first, to wash his hands and take some preventative painkillers, Felix to the bedroom to start changing and getting ready for bed. The night became quiet, the air becoming muted as the minutes ticked by.
The yellow lights from the hotel room cast a gentle cloud around them. Chan wandered out of the bathroom, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants tightly, and unbuckling his black watch, his eyes slowly finding Felix. The blond man was simply sitting on the edge of the massive bed, his shoes kicked off and his hands clasped in his lap, a blank expression seeping into his eyes as he stared at the carpet of the bedroom floor. He looked … stuck. Nothing like the comfortable social man who commanded the evening so far.
Feeling his heart ache, an old, bruised, familiar feeling, Chan noticed the signs. He stored the feeling of pride from noticing away for a different time and mentally prepared, emptying his mind and opening everything else. He tossed his watch helplessly onto the floor and knelt, his face relaxing, waiting for his boyfriend to find him with his eyes, and slowly walked on his knees toward the man, his hands open in front of him.
Felix’s eyes darted up, his mouth falling open slightly, in surprise or tiredness, Chan didn’t know. He neared the edge of the bed and looked up into Felix’s face, silently asking.
Time stood still for a long time, the question hanging in the air between them as they locked eyes.
Felix’s hand twitched in his lap as his eyes flickered to Chan’s open ones, and he slowly placed his hands in Chan’s, whispering, the sound breaking the muffled quiet surrounding them like a hot knife, making the yearning in Chan’s stomach rise to scorch his throat in some primal way,
“Please, baby …”
Thrust into action, not knowing what else to do, Chan sank his head down onto Felix’s lap, closing his eyes and nosing the man’s clothed dick, clutching his hands tightly and feeling them shake, prying soft and whimpering sounds from the man’s mouth. He felt Felix stiffen and harden beneath him as he opened his mouth and let his hot breath cascade over the man’s most intimate parts, Felix gasping slightly at the feeling. Their hands linked and gripping each other harshly, Chan mouthed lightly over the hard, hot length, trying to ignore the gaping feeling of desperation rooted in his actions. He placed his hands, filled with Felix’s, on the mattress on either side of Felix, pushing them into the comforter so he could get closer to Felix’s waist. Felix leaned back, Chan practically on top of him, closed his eyes, and let soft groans fly from his mouth.
With his teeth, his eyes burning with fresh pain and yearning, Chan unsnapped Felix’s black slacks, and Felix wiggled his hips to help him rip them off him, sliding them down to his calves, leaving him straining in his boxers. Chan stood up, bending over Felix and bringing their hands above the blond man’s head, pressing their bodies together, forcing choked sounds from them both at the hot, aching contact.
It wasn’t until they were both rocking into each other, panting and moaning quietly into each other’s mouths, already covered in a sheen of sweat, that Chan’s stomach began to ache and pull at him. He winced and Felix immediately clocked it.
“Hy-hyung,” he gasped, his eyes going wide in worry and panic, “what’s the m-matter? We can stop, we don’t have to-“
“I want to,” Chan cut him off, his voice low and almost growling, his eye snapping open and finding Felix’s. “I … God, I want to …” he whispered, reaching up to brush Felix’s hair out of his face. They stared deep into each other’s eyes for a moment before Chan leaned down to place a soft kiss to the corner of Felix’s mouth before shuddering and grinding down again, attempting to pick up their previous pace.
Felix blinked at the ceiling, a whispered gasp coming unbidden from between his lips,
“Are you okay? Hyung?” The panic still fizzing in his chest, but the heat in his belly overwhelming him, he tried to make sense of the flash of pain that had passed over his boyfriend’s face just then.
Chan ignored the question and kept placing small kisses all over Felix’s face, traveling down his chin and ending with sucking quiet marks into his neck, all while slowly building a rough and steady rhythm with their hips. Their hands began to get sweaty as the silent tension grew between them quickly, faster than the electric arousal.
Felix took it for as long as he could before he snapped, feeling his chest pound with worry.
“Hyung, stop it,” He ripped his hands out of Chan’s grip and shoved his shoulders a little to shake him off his neck, letting his voice break the tension. He pulled Chan up to look in his eyes and whispered,
“What just happened? You have to tell me because now I can’t focus and …” he bit his lip and let his eyes water, “and I’m worried …” his eyes darted between Chan’s eyes and he forced the older man to stop rocking back and forth, silently demanding an answer.
Before him, in his hands, for the first time in a long time, Chan looked breakable. He looked fragile, holding on by a thread, and panicked. His eyes were wide, pupils blown up in arousal and his breath sporadic. He looked anywhere but Felix’s eyes and his eyebrows knit in concentration as if it was taking everything in him to hold himself together.
Felix felt his blood turn cold as he watched Chan struggle. He couldn’t help but mutter,
“Please, tell me … we’re working on communication, right?” he pleaded, willing the tears to stop burning his eyes, and tried to sit up with Chan still on top of him.
Chan bowed his head, and Felix couldn’t tell if he was crying or laughing, but his shoulders shook either way. The man leaned back a little so Felix could sit up straight, pulling Chan up onto the bed next to him, still holding his shoulders tight. Chan didn’t move for a long time and Felix thought he might explode from waiting, but finally he heard a muffled low voice,
“It just … hurts sometimes.”
Felix’s mind ran in circles, “What does? How bad? Do we need to take you to the hospit-“
Chan cut him off with a raised hand, head still bowed. The blond man fell silent, biting his lip and waiting for Chan to continue.
“It’s you, Lix-ah…” the older man whispered, his shoulders sinking under Felix’s hands.
The panic rose, “What?! I hurt you?!? Hyung, why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Felix jerked his hands off the man and sat back a little, terrified. He wondered how long Chan had been keeping this to himself, and felt the nausea choke him, sweat on his body cooling rapidly and covering him with gooseflesh. He didn’t have time to think. He didn’t have anything to hold on to as he spiraled.
“No,” Chan looked up, and Felix noticed the red eyes and blank expression, the tell-tale signs of an upcoming dissociation, and bravely schooled his own face, ready to take care of Chan should he need him. The man whispered, the words echoing rapidly around the room,
“You don’t hurt me, Lix. I hurt me, because of you. I’m so …” he sighed, eyes brimming quickly, “I’m so sorry …” he hung his head again, almost ashamed.
Quickly, Felix shook his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes briefly, “Wait, what? No, what do you mean, hyung?”
“There is so much,” Chan murmured, a low, monotone sound that pulled at Felix’s insides, not in the good way, “… inside of me … that I can’t tell you about … and sometimes it hurts.” The last bit was a broken whisper, and Felix couldn’t understand.
“What hurts?”
“It … all settles in my stomach and burns sometimes, when we get,” Chan bit his lip, “… close, and it’s … I, uh …” he trailed off, a miserable look surfacing in his eyes when he looked up again. Felix leaned forward, breath stuttering in his chest.
“You can tell me, Channie … I can take it … please?”
Chan shook his head, slowly. “No, I can’t, Lix … it’s too much …I just want to be closer to you and I can’t tell you why … and it’s overwhelming sometimes, that’s all … it’s okay …” Felix watched as Chan attempted to convince himself and sit back, quiet, reserved, withdrawn. The blond man couldn’t help but try to pull him out, cracking a joke.
He tried to smile through his tears. “We’re already so close, I mean, you’ve seen every piece of me, I’ve seen every piece of you … the only thing that could bring us closer is to get married.” He giggled into his hand and looked up, waiting for Chan to smile or laugh as well, but …
He was staring at Felix with a wounded look, like a child who was just told they were not wanted anymore … his eyes red, mouth hanging open, and his expression helpless. His shoulders tightened minutely, as if getting prepared for blows, and his hands shook in his lap.
Felix’s smile faded and his breath caught in his chest.
Time froze for a long moment.
“You … you wanna get married, hyung?”
Another long moment passed before Chan gave the tiniest of nods, a horrible, deep confession that broke him in two, right there on Felix’s bed.
“Okay, we can get married, sure.”
Chan’s stomach sank, and he got up off the bed, his legs shaking horribly, and he began pacing. His voice shook, “No, no, see I knew you would be like this … no, it should be right, it should happen because we’re in love, not because we’re fighting and I’m scared to lose you …” he warbled helplessly, feeling all the guilt and shame from the last six months all resurface tenfold. He stood by the bureau and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep his pieces from falling apart.
Felix stood up behind him, and he heard the man’s incredulous, soft voice,
“You think that just because we fight, we’re not in love anymore?”
Felix stared as Chan nodded, a tiny, childlike motion, and closed his eyes, letting the tears flow freely. He felt his breath freeze in his chest and he tried not to cry, already feeling the wetness form under his eyes. He let his mouth run ahead of his mind, asking,
“Oh, my God, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“Because no one wants to hear that their boyfriend is scared they’re not in love anymore!” Chan’s voice cracked and he sank to a crouch, putting his head in his hands, and Felix took three steps to stand behind him, scared to touch him, but slowly putting all the pieces together in his head.
“Is that why you kept initiating sex all the time? To reassure yourself I still loved you?” he kept his voice soft, gentle … afraid of Chan’s reaction, but ready for anything. Suddenly, he felt he had the strength to take on whatever horrid blob of feeling Chan had stuck inside of him, and he could do it. He could take it.
Chan gave another nod, this time shaking, trembling.
“Oh, hyung … come here.”
They were on the floor now, Chan’s legs stretched out in front of them, his head and shoulders cradled in Felix’s lap, Felix curled up like a pretzel to try to surround him with safety. He ran his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, watching the strands flow through his hand, smoothing them back and scratching Chan’s scalp soothingly as the man cried softly, his arms wrapped around Felix’s waist.
Felix broke the silence with a soft whisper that Chan felt land on his hair and settled deep in his stomach, making him squeeze his eyes shut.
“… when were you going to tell me?”
He sighed, biting back a groan at the question, and tried to hide in his boyfriend’s arms. Felix was unmoving, a simple oasis for Chan to rest inside. When he finally found his voice, Chan whispered back, the feeling in his stomach growing,
“I don’t … I don’t know.”
He felt Felix inhale quickly, quietly … and the man’s arms tightened around him.
“I’m … glad you did, though. I don’t think I would have figured it out on my own,” Chan held his breath, waiting for the kicker, but all he heard was a soft, “ … thank you.”
He looked up, feeling his eyes burn and itch from emotion, and found Felix looking at the wall in front of them, a soft look on his face, and Chan blinked. The ugliness in his stomach fizzed up into his throat and he swallowed, not knowing what to do. Why was Felix thanking him?
Before he could ask, Felix spoke clearly, kindly,
“Hyung, I love you … you love me. We worked so hard to get here, and we fought to get through the hardest shit we’ve ever had happen … together. And now we’re here … better. And good.” Felix looked down and Chan teared up at the shining in the blond man’s eyes.
“And if you want to get married, then I want to, as well. I think we should.” He smiled and Chan’s chest grew warm.
For a split second, he let himself imagine it all. All the thoughts he’d denied himself for years. All the wonderful feelings and the spaces they would share, the years they would spend … he saw it all flash before his eyes in a moment.
“Okay,” he breathed, sitting up slightly to wrap his arms around Felix and look into his eyes.
Felix smiled wider. “Okay?”
Chan nodded, his neck stiff. He wiped his eyes with one hand and shifted them so he could kiss the corner of Felix’s mouth. “Okay.”
Felix giggled, a wet, lovely sound, and he closed his eyes, “Okay.”
On the other side of the bedroom door, Hyunjin bit his lip to suppress the shout of happiness, hopped up and down, flapping his hands silently, and Jisung whisper-screamed from their bedroom,
“What’s going on??”
From the room adjacent, Minho mocked Jisung’s tone with a, “They’re getting married??”
Hyunjin tip-toed down the hallway toward his friends. Jisung looked at him expectantly and he nodded, a grin plastered on his face.
“Yeah, they’re getting married.”
Seungmin murmured from his seat on the floor, “It’s about fucking time, God damn.”