Chapter Text
⊱•⊰
“Bro, when the fuck are you coming back home?” Jeongin demands, his mouth full of japchae.
Felix rolls his eyes. “Soon as you learn to finish chewing before you speak, christ.”
“Lixie, my love, it’s a lost cause,” Hyunjin declares, somewhere off-camera. “The man is a boor of the grossest form.”
“Hey,” Jeongin protests, taking an even bigger bite, “I’ll have you know, I am a hot commodity in this city.”
Hyunjin snorts. “Oh, for the love of god.”
“Sorry, did he just say hot commodity?” Felix cuts in, adjusting his legs on the couch. “He who is, and has been for the better part of a year, unambiguously single?”
“Lix, I hate to shatter your sweet summer innocence,” Jeongin retorts, grinning cockily, “but a man can get his dick wet without being in a relationship.”
“Oh, please,” Felix mutters, rolling his eyes once more.
“That’s true!” Hyunjin affirms, plopping down at the table next to Jeongin and sucking a grape into his mouth with a pop. “However,” he continues, pausing for a moment as he finishes chewing, “I would just like to clarify that, in this particular scenario, Jeongin is not the one getting said dick wet.”
“Now, hang on–”
“Seems he’s been having a bit of a dry spell as of late.”
“Yes, thank you, Judas!” Jeongin snaps, glaring at the eldest. He turns back to Felix. “Alright, fine, maybe I’m not making the rounds at the moment, but honestly, who gives a fuck? Certainly not me.”
“Is that why you were bitching the other night about not being able to get a decent lay in this city?” Hyunjin inquires drily, popping another grape into his mouth.
Felix busts out laughing as Jeongin shoves Hyunjin off of his chair.
“YANG JEONGIN!!!” Hyunjin shrieks from the floor, berating the youngest as if he were a five-year-old on the playground. “THAT IS NOT HOW WE TREAT PEOPLE!!!”
Jeongin’s mouth splits in a wide, devious grin. With a click of his tongue and a wink in Hyunjin’s direction, he quips, “Maybe we should.”
“Okay, guys!” Felix interrupts as his chuckles taper off. “Moving on. I wanted to talk to you both about something.”
“Oh?” Hyunjin inquires as he hauls himself up from the floor, ebony hair in disarray. He blows a handful of strands out of his face, then clumsily swipes them away when they fall right back into his eyes. “What is it?”
“It’s, um…” Felix clears his throat. “It’s about Seungmin.”
His friends exchange a look.
“What about him?” Jeongin questions.
Felix shrugs, eyes dropping to his fidgeting fingers. “Well, I just… he got a bit bossy the other night and I just… thought it was interesting, so I thought I’d ask your opinion.”
When he looks back at his phone (propped up on the coffee table against a stack of books), he finds Jeongin blinking – seemingly bored – and Hyunjin inspecting his nails.
“And this is noteworthy how?” the latter inquires, squinting at his ring finger.
Felix’s brow furrows. “Well, I mean,” he begins, “he was just a bit… more intense than he normally is.”
“What do you mean intense?”
“Um. Well, I don’t know, just like. Telling me what to do and getting kind of touchy and stuff. But it was more than usual? Like at one point, I was kind of overwhelmed, and he gave me a literal to-do list.”
Jeongin’s eyebrows disappear into his shaggy Oreo hair. “Come again?”
Hyunjin, on the other hand, is completely frozen. His eyes are the size of satellite dishes, the Great Nail Inspection evidently forgotten in the wake of such news.
Felix looks at them warily. “Um. Yeah. So, like I said,” he continues, slowly, “he just seemed a bit bossier than usual and I wanted to ask your opinion about it.”
Hyunjin jolts out of nowhere as if his soul had briefly left his body before someone shoved it back inside. “TIME!” he hollers, making a sweeping time-out sign with his hands. “Since when are you and Seungmin ENGAGING IN SOFTCORE D/S PRACTICES?!”
“Ah, yes,” agrees Jeongin, face brightening with faux realization. “Excellent point. Let’s start there, shall we?”
Felix rolls his eyes. “We are not in a D/s relationship.”
Jeongin gives him a flat look. “And yet.”
The blonde huffs. “It’s just, like. He just takes care of me sometimes, okay? Like normal stuff, it’s not that deep.”
“Normal?” Hyunjin squeaks.
“Yeah, like– like cooking meals for me, and giving me directions sometimes when I’m overwhelmed, and just, like… generally looking out for me. Sometimes he gets a bit physical but not always.”
Jeongin arches a brow. “Explain.”
“Well, I mean… you know…”
“No, we don’t.”
He huffs again. “Well, like… I don’t know. Sometimes he pushes me around a bit if I’m being stubborn, or he’ll grab my hands to ground me if I’m being too fidgety. Stuff like that.”
“Mm. Jeongin,” says Hyunjin, turning sideways to face his roommate, “do you grab my hands to help ground me when I’m being too fidgety?”
“No, I do not.”
“Ok, well–!” Felix exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Whatever! We don’t have a contract, it’s not an official dynamic, done, period, end of fucking story. God.”
Jeongin and Hyunjin just stare at him, unimpressed.
“So, is there a part of this story where you stop acting like a total nimrod?” Jeongin asks, picking up his forgotten chopsticks and shoving more food in his mouth.
Felix’s eyes narrow. “Right after the part where you stop acting like a pompous asshole.”
“Okay, waitwaitwait,” Hyunjin cuts in, hands waving back and forth. “Can we go back to the original question? You said the Domming has increased?”
“He’s not Domming me, he’s just, kind of… bossy.”
Jeongin snorts.
“Whatever,” Hyunjin intones. “What’s changed?”
Felix hesitates, well aware of the fact that he has now made himself a target – for mockery and general humiliation – which his friends are all too readily lining up to shoot at.
“Um. Well.” He clears his throat. “There may or may not be, um, hair-pulling, now.”
Silence.
After what seems like an eternity, Hyunjin blinks once, slow and hard. “What?”
Felix watches as Jeongin works his jaw, obviously contemplating adding his own two cents before he decides against it, instead opting to stuff more noodles into his mouth.
Guess that’s his cue, then. “Well. For example. He, um…” He sighs. “Oh for god’s sake,” he mutters to himself. He rubs his palms against his thighs, feels the heat from the friction of the denim, and braces himself for the coming storm.
“I was being stubborn,” he continues, clearing his throat. “On purpose – I still don’t know why. But he was trying to suggest things to help me after I had a… meltdown…”
Felix doesn’t miss the look of concern that passes between the other two, but he ignores it for now.
“And for whatever reason, I just kept pushing back and finally he just, like – slipped his hand into my hair and started pulling.” He swallows, picks at a hangnail. “Not hard, like it didn’t hurt, but like. I don’t know. Enough to make me focus.”
More silence. Deafening silence.
Finally – after drawing in a deep, slow breath – Jeongin turns to Hyunjin and says, “Well.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean–”
“Nope.”
Felix narrows his eyes, his temper flaring in his chest while the other two go on as if he’s not even there. “Excuse me, hi – right here, thanks.”
Jeongin leans back in his chair and stretches, ignoring Felix’s protests. “Sure you don’t wanna take point on this?”
Hyunjin smiles, syrupy sweet, and bats his eyelashes. “Absolutely not.”
Okay, now Felix is pissed. “Hello?!”
Jeongin sighs. “Alright, Lix, listen up, cuz I’m only gonna say this once – that ‘stubbornness’–” here, he air quotes “–you felt the need to indulge in? That’s called bratting. And what Seungmin did in response to that was a textbook Dom response. Now, if you wanna hang up the phone sayin’ up is down and red is green, then fine, whatever. But it will not change the fact that Jinnie was right – what you and Seungmin have been doing is, essentially, softcore D/s.”
Felix feels like he’s been rammed by a tank. He’s disoriented, his thoughts a complete jumble in his head.
What the fuck just happened?
“And before you ask, yes,” Jeongin continues, completely unperturbed by Felix’s catatonia, “Seungmin knew what he was doing. One hundred percent.”
Felix blinks. “How do you know?” he asks, still somewhat dazed.
Jeongin glances at Hyunjin, and the two have yet another silent conversation (Felix is getting really sick of those) before the latter finally responds, “Because he once did the same for me.”
Felix just stares at the phone, eyes wide in shock.
“Or, I mean– not the hair-pulling, but like. He’s Dommed me before. Once.”
The blonde stammers. “He… I… what?”
“Only once, I promise. Right before I had my little… you know… hiatus. It was right around the time I started realizing I like leaning into my Dom side as a switch more than my sub. But you know what it was like back then – I was crashing so hard, and I knew Seungmin was a Dom, so I asked if he thought maybe subspace would be a helpful way for me to release some of the shit in my head.”
Felix is intrigued. When Hyunjin had to take a year off from university due to a mental health crisis, Felix and Jeongin had been there every step of the way – or, at least, that’s what Felix thought. Apparently, he was wrong, though, because he’s never heard this part of the story before. Which is fine, he’s not upset, truly…
Gun to his head, though, with the fate of the world hanging in the balance, Felix would be hard-pressed to say that he isn’t a little bit jealous.
“Jeongin’s a Dom, though,” he points out. “Why not ask him?”
“Seungmin was more removed,” the eldest answers. “I knew it’d be easier to give each other space if things didn’t work out since we weren’t at the same school.”
“Oh wait, yeah,” Felix realizes. “How did that even work if he was in Australia?”
Hyunjin’s mouth quirks in a half smile. “Remember when Seungmin came up for your first runway?”
Felix blinks. “Oh. I see.”
“Yeah. Like I said, we tried it, but – it didn’t really go well. Seungmin ended up safewording cuz I was such a mess and he didn’t want me to finish the scene. Moved us straight into aftercare.” He takes another breath, clears his throat. “Anyway. All that to say…”
Then the eldest stares right at the camera, eyes piercing through pixels and lenses and glass, locking with Felix’s. “He knows what he’s doing, Felix – and it isn’t ‘just being bossy’. And I also know that he wouldn’t be doing it unless you’d given him some sort of permission. So either you’re not being completely honest with us right now about everything that’s happened between the two of you, or you and Seungmin need to have a serious talk regarding whatever miscommunication you’ve had.”
Jeongin clears his throat, swishing his last bite of japchae over to one side of his mouth so he can speak out of the other. “Yeah – what he said.”
Felix just stares. And stares…
And stares.
It isn’t until Jeongin has cleared his bowl, rinsed it, and sat back down at the table – while Hyunjin calmly munches on his grapes the entire time – that Felix finally speaks.
“You’re right – I did give him permission, of sorts. Deep down, I think I knew what we were doing. I guess I’ve just been in denial.”
Hyunjin nods. “It’s a big thing to come to terms with. I guess the real question, though, is: what does this mean for you guys moving forward?”
Jeongin hums, nodding in affirmation.
Felix just swallows. “I… I don’t know.”
⊱•⊰
In the months leading up to their twelfth birthdays, Felix spent hours listening to (no, scratch that – enduring) Seungmin’s begging for a guitar. The boy had been dying to learn how to play, and as summer began to wrap humid tendrils around the island, he decided that the only thing that could truly make him happy for his birthday that year was a guitar. He then made it his mission to ensure that anybody and everybody within a twenty-mile radius knew of this brilliant gift idea.
“You don’t even know how to play,” Felix pointed out to him one day, as they were walking home from school.
“Duh – I’m gonna learn,” the other retorted, kicking a stray rock off the road. “Can’t do that if I don’t have one, though.”
“But who’s gonna teach you?”
“Me. Obviously.”
Felix stopped in his tracks, hands gripping the straps of his backpack as he stared at his friend incredulously. “But you don’t know how to play!”
Seungmin rolled his eyes. “Keep up, Lix - I’m gonna teach myself. With like, videos and stuff.”
“Oh,” Felix replied, blinking. “That makes sense.”
By the time September rolled around, though, Felix was well and truly sick of it. It was all Seungmin ever talked about – day in and day out, guitar this and guitar that, blah blah blah blah blah…
At long last, on the morning of September 22nd, 2010, Felix’s torment came to an end. For tucked away in a corner of the Kim’s dining room – accompanied by a gift from Felix, a joint gift from the remaining Lees, and a slightly half-assed gift from Chae-Yeong, Seungmin’s sister – stood one, singular present from Seungmin’s parents: a Gretsch Jim Dandy, made of dark basswood and walnut.
“Gonna have to teach yourself now,” Felix reminded Seungmin as they leaned over the instrument, eyes wide in awe.
The brunette’s fingers trailed reverently down the fingerboard, over the inlaid pearl, tracing the grain of the wood. “I will,” he murmured.
And sweet lord, did he ever. Taught himself everything he could, in any way he could – YouTube, books, fucking trial and error… he was good. He was so good. And sure, yeah – there were times along the way when it occurred to Felix that maybe, perhaps, this was the single most attractive thing about the guy. Possibly. But he didn’t give it too much thought because a) they were childhood friends, so like, ew, and b)… well…
Long story short, shit happens. People grow up. Moving on.
All of that to say, Felix is no stranger to the sight of Seungmin playing his guitar – much nicer now, a Victorian model Bourgeois Slope-D – at any given time of day. However…
What he is not used to is the sight of Seungmin sitting cross-legged on his kitchen counter in sweats and a backward baseball cap (no shirt, that is correct), holding said guitar with a pick dangling between his lips. At nine-thirty in the morning, no less. This was not on the bingo card (Although it definitely should’ve been, the gremlin in the back of his mind mutters – Felix promptly kicks it to the curb, because no).
He’s pretty sure he’s having an aneurysm – or maybe a hemorrhage? Could be anaphylaxis, to be totally honest. What the fuck, he’s not a doctor, okay?
All Felix knows is that he’s standing halfway down the stairs, staring into the kitchen at one of the most devastating sights he’s ever seen in his (pathetic, godforsaken) life, completely immobilized. His brain is literally melting out of his ears. God, who knows, could be leaking out of his eyes, too, at this point. Frankly, he’s got no clue – the entirety of his focus has funneled down to that fucking guitar pick, still dangling from that stupid, pink-red mouth as the other man continues to fuss with his (abnormally consistent, more often than not only-out-of-tune-to-Seungmin) G-string.
Okay, so maybe his focus isn’t so singularly-inclined. Maybe it trails down his torso for a split second to take stock of the lightly-toned abs (which? Hello? Since when?) that Seungmin reveals when he lays the guitar flat in his lap to inspect the tuning pegs… but that’s neither here nor there. The guitar pick is definitely the star of the show – hundred percent. Felix could write a five-paragraph essay on the layers of attraction regarding that pick.
He could give you visuals, too, although he’d probably be arrested for public indecency, so maybe not.
Just for the record, Seungmin forgoes tuning the B-string – which, unlike the G, is slightly flat today – but whatever. Maybe that’s because Felix makes a spur-of-the-moment decision to forget how to walk and sprawls face-first at the foot of the stairs, momentously announcing his entrance – both into the living room and the day at large – and (unfortunately, horrifically) drawing Seungmin’s attention away from his guitar and over to Felix’s blushing, battered, soon-to-be-bruised body.
But it’s probably got nothing to do with that. More likely, Seungmin’s just an idiot who knows nothing about tuning his instrument after fourteen years of playing it. Yeah.
“Jesus, Lix,” Seungmin responds, pick falling from his mouth as he immediately jumps off the counter. He sets the guitar in the space he just vacated, then strides quickly over to the blonde. “What happened?”
You happened, Felix thinks bitterly.
“Um, nothing, I’m–”
“Are you hurt?”
“Huh?”
“Are you hurt?”
Felix blinks dazedly up at Seungmin as the man squats next to him, helping him into a sitting position. “No?”
Seungmin’s brow rises in a perfect arch.
Perfect – he’s so perfect.
“No? Is that a question?”
Wait, what?
Felix shakes himself, attempting to focus. “Um, no? I mean, no, it’s not, I’m fine – I’m not hurt.”
Seungmin just looks at him.
“Well, maybe a little bit,” Felix backtracks, “but not, like, seriously hurt. Just a few bruises, maybe.”
“Hm.” Seungmin gives him an appraising look, still squatting next to him. “Forget how to walk this morning?”
Felix freezes, eyes wide, slightly panicked.
You could say that.
“Um–” Yikes. That came out way too high. Wow. “N-no. Just slipped, that’s all.”
Seungmin’s tongue pokes into his cheek, his eyes disbelieving. “Were you distracted?”
“No–”
“D’you see something you like?”
Felix chokes; he’s in full-blown panic mode at this point. “Seungmin! What the hell?!”
The brunette smiles, a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth; he shrugs. “Just asking.”
Sure, yeah. Just asking. Harmless. No biggie.
That being said – whilst Seungmin is in the middle of just asking, Felix is busy imagining what it would be like to have someone sew his mouth shut to keep in the unholy sounds that are threatening to fall out. Because seeing flashes of Seungmin’s chest and abs from behind a guitar – from across the room – is one thing…
But this? Seungmin perched on his heels, naked torso hovering right in Felix’s face?
…Yeah. Forget the ballgame – this is a whole different stratosphere.
“Well, I– I– no,” he stammers, super convincingly. “I just slipped on the stairs, that’s all.”
Honestly, it’s a solid excuse. It’s early(ish), he just woke up, and also, Seungmin’s staircase is made of wood, so like – hello? Slippery. Obviously (especially in fuzzy yellow ducky socks). He has three perfectly valid, foolproof reasons why turning his face into a pancake should not have been an unexpected outcome. He’s basically immune.
Or he would be – if he weren’t blatantly staring at the crease of muscle running down Seungmin’s abdomen. Maybe that gives him away. Possibly.
Seungmin grins like a starved shark with blood in the water. “Right. I can understand how that might happen.”
And then… he flexes. His stomach tightens, skin pulling taught over the ridges of his abdomen, and Felix figures he’s probably got about five seconds before his brain ruptures and he passes away.
Look, Seungmin isn’t ripped – not like Hyunjin and Jeongin, anyway, and honestly not even like Felix. But just because Felix has sculpted his own body that way, doesn’t mean he’s looking for the same thing in a partner. There are some very nice, lanky bodies out in the world; muscle isn’t everything, Felix knows that…
Alright, fine, who is he kidding – Felix has a muscle kink, what can he say? He’s a slut for six-packs, a bitch for biceps.
And yet, despite his leaner build, there’s something about Seungmin that has always drawn Felix in. Even though he’s not as bulky as other guys Felix has dated, he’s still toned, and Felix knows there’s a surprising amount of strength running through his body. He’s seen him in a baseball uniform (a public hazard, truly), watched him swing a bat, pitch a ball. Has grown up watching how his arms carve their way through the ocean waves, sleek and swift, sunlight glittering in the droplets on his skin. Seungmin has power, no question – and he knows how to use it to his advantage.
So yeah, alright, he doesn’t have a six-pack. But he’s got enough muscle to be visible beneath the skin, stiff with tension, and Felix feels like he’s gonna die.
*===
Before he goes, though, he’d like to make one thing very clear: Kim Seungmin is a Class A criminal. A murderer, to be specific – a cold-blooded killer. Because one hundred percent, without a shadow of a doubt, did Seungmin do that on purpose. Just flashed that stupid-ass smirk of his and flexed his abs like it was no big deal, like this is just a regular Thursday morning wherein he normally spends his time parading around the kitchen forgoing half his wardrobe.
Wherein he normally squats down next to pathetic, foolish, stupid little blondes, purring things like, “Eyes up here, Lix – where are your manners?”
God, he’s fucked. So, ridiculously fucked.
But he’s also weak – for this man, specifically – so, he trails his eyes up, through the valley of his pecs, over the hill of his Adam’s apple, until they finally lock with Seungmin’s.
He grins. “Hi.”
Felix swallows. “Hi,” he whispers.
“Would you like to get off the floor now?”
“Um. Yes, please.”
This is stupid. Felix is a grown-ass man; he can get up off the floor whenever he damn well pleases. He does not need some condescending prick prompting him as if he were a dazed toddler who’d just tripped on the sidewalk.
And yet. Here he is. Muttering please like a goddamn baby. Brilliant.
Seungmin shifts his weight back on his heels a bit, and Felix’s eyes drop to where his sweats are pulled tight across the tops of his legs, bunching in the crease of his hip bones. Look, he doesn’t do it on purpose; he’s not a perv, okay? The movement just catches his eye, and it’s not like he has anything better to look at than Seungmin’s insanely muscled thighs, so. The whole thing is very normal, really.
That is until there’s a hand snaking into his hair and tugging backward, forcing his head up.
That, probably, is a bit less normal.
“Still struggling with manners, aren’t we?”
Hnnggg. Fuck. “No.”
Seungmin’s brow arches as he tugs again. “No?”
“Mm-mm.” The blonde tries to shake his head, but it pulls at the hair in Seungmin’s grip, shooting that sweet spiral of pleasure-pain into Felix’s bones. He shivers, swallows; feels the spit sticking in his throat, forcing him to swallow again.
“Think we might have to do a recap, then – seems like we have very different versions of what good manners are.”
Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. “Why can’t we use my version?”
Something flickers in Seungmin’s eyes, there and gone before Felix can parse it out. “Because I said so.”
Felix pouts but is ignored as Seungmin releases his hair and pulls him to his feet. “C’mon, princess,” he says softly.
===*
He leads him over to the kitchen, and while Seungmin moves the guitar to its place in the living room, Felix takes a second to, well… get his shit together, essentially. Because this morning has been a categorical nightmare so far, first of all, and secondly…
C’mon, princess.
God, he’s so pathetic. Someone just kill him now and put him out of his misery, for chrissake.
He shakes his head – as if the movement will dispel all the pitiful fantasies running through his mind – and hops up on the counter next to the stove, crossing his legs just as Seungmin returns. “So. Care to explain why you’re waltzing around half-naked in the kitchen?”
Seungmin snorts. “You mean why I’m waltzing around in a perfectly acceptable amount of clothing in my own fucking house?”
Felix rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Mm.” He gives Felix a once-over, then juts his chin over to the dining table. Lo and behold, there’s a navy t-shirt draped over the back of one of the chairs. “Spilled coffee on my shirt. Was too lazy to go back upstairs.”
“Ah,” Felix replies, nodding. He clears his throat, then turns back from the table to glance at the younger. “Are… are you gonna make breakfast?”
Seungmin nods. “Yeah. Was waiting for you to wake up.”
Well. That doesn’t make his lungs wanna cave in on themselves at all…
Felix smiles, feels it pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, Minnie.”
“You’re welcome.” He sticks his hand in the top of Felix’s hair and ruffles it, and upon hearing Felix squawk, he grins. “Now – you’re gonna help.”
The eldest’s eyes widen. “I am?”
“Yep.”
“I thought we established I’m not good at cooking, though.”
“Just follow directions and you’ll be fine.”
Felix pouts again. “But I hate cooking.”
Seungmin raises a brow, unimpressed. “I didn’t ask.”
He groans. “You’re so mean.”
Seungmin makes an incredulous face. “Oh. Yeah. So mean.” He starts pulling out ingredients for kimchijeon, singing quietly to himself as he does so.
It’s unfair, honestly, how insanely beautiful he is. He still has no fucking shirt on, just sunlight pouring across his shoulders, spilling down his back… pooling in the dip at the base of his spine. His sweats are low around his waist, right under his navel, and Felix is hungry, has been since the moment he woke up… but it’s different now. It’s different when your options suddenly include more than just kimchi and eggs and maybe a banana. It’s different when you’re sitting on a counter in the kitchen with a man in a backward hat that’s way more attractive than it has any right to be (it’s a hat for god’s sake).
It’s different when that same man is singing that one song from when you were a kid, the one his mother always sang to the two of you during sleepovers before you went to bed; the one you still catch him strumming on his guitar, or singing to himself the way he is now. It’s different when you’re not just hungry for his body, but also for the way he makes you feel – like you’re not just some fucked-up loser, doomed to a life of perpetual staggering in the wake of personal cataclysm.
Like you’re an actual person. Like you matter. Like you deserve to take up the space within yourself, between all the bone and cartilage and muscle and sinew. Like you’re allowed to exist in the external spaces around you, to live in time just like anybody else.
It’s different when you’ve spent the past eight years telling yourself you can’t stand him, that you want nothing to do with him, when deep down you know it’s a lie. A twisted, aching lie, rooted in ragged heartbreak and miscommunication.
It’s different. It’s different when you walked in the door a month ago expecting everything to stay the same… and yet, somehow you know that when you walk back out, nothing will be as it was.
But hell – that’s a problem for Future Felix. Present Felix, apparently, has to make breakfast now.
⊱•⊰
The days fly past, a blur of home-cooked meals (and a couple of arguments when Felix tries to skip them), walks around town, and evenings on the beach. Before he knows it, Felix has less than a week before he goes back to Seoul. Less than a week before he says goodbye to the island – to home – and goes back to the lights, and the buzz, and the nights that never sleep. Less than a week before he and Seungmin go back to occasional phone calls and random FaceTimes; to texting a handful of times a week just because Felix is bored and wants to piss Seungmin off, or Seungmin wants to ask him some inane question.
Less than a week before he has to reconcile with the fact that maybe, he doesn’t really wanna leave at all – maybe, for the first time in a long time, he wants to stay right where he is.
Honestly? He’s not sure how to feel about it, and that in itself nearly launches him into a spiral.
Now’s not the time to think about that, though. Right now, he’s getting out of his car (Seungmin’s car – whatever) to meet Chan for breakfast. It’s Wednesday, meaning the elder doesn’t have to work until the afternoon, so they decided to get together one last time before Felix flies back home on Sunday.
As soon as they’ve settled in and given their drink orders, Chan glances up at Felix, an eager look in his eyes. “So, I’ve got a question.”
Felix blinks, slightly taken aback by the enthusiasm. “‘Kay…?”
Chan giggles. “You look scared.”
“Honestly, I kind of am a bit,” Felix chuckles nervously.
“Nah, it’s not that bad,” Chan replies with a wave of his hand. “I’m just curious.”
“About…?”
“You and Seungmin.”
Felix blinks. Blinks again. “I– sorry, what?”
Chan grins. “Well, I mean, you’ve been here almost two months now. And you guys were, like, living together for half that. That’s kind of a long time. So, like, I don’t know – just wondered if there’d been any shift or anything.”
Ha. Haha.
“Uhm. I mean…no? Not really.”
Lie.
Big. Fat. Lie.
And Chan knows it.
He arches a brow and leans back a bit in his chair. “Huh. Really.”
Felix shrugs. “Yeah.”
Chan purses his lips, nods slowly… and then his mouth splits in a shit-eating grin. “God, you really haven’t changed a bit.”
The blonde’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
Chan busts out laughing, so hard his shoulders shake with it. “Felix, you are so full of shit!”
“What the hell, no I’m not!”
Chan’s eyes glitter with amusement, his dimples so deep that Felix thinks he could plant trees in them. “Lix,” he chuckles, “honestly. Nothing has changed, even a little bit?”
Nope. Nothing. Not the way he’s carved out a space for himself in the man’s home, always attuned to the rhythms and sounds of the house and its occupant. Not the way they’ve slept in the same bed (once), that childhood innocence long since melted away in the ever-decreasing space between them. Not the way Felix looks at him, all of him – at the breadth of his shoulders and the expanse of his chest, down, down, down, devouring every inch of divine being.
Not the way Seungmin touches him, speaks to him. Slides fingers through his hair, pulls tight at the roots. Calls him babe, and sweetheart, and princess. Not the way his voice drips, delicious and mocking around the first two, or the way he purrs the latter straight into Felix’s ear.
And certainly not the way that Felix knows, deep down, that he was wrong. He was wrong back then, and he’s been wrong ever since – has spent the past eight years tending his bitterness, his hurt, his anger, refusing to believe that (maybe) mistakes were made out of innocence rather than malice. The way he knows that, sooner or later, there’ll come a time when he’ll have to look himself in the mirror and face the facts: that he’s too fucked-up – too wild, too broken – for someone as remarkable and beautiful as Seungmin…
And he’ll have to let him go. Because Seungmin doesn’t deserve that – and Felix doesn’t deserve Seungmin.
“Lix?”
Ah. Fuck. He got stuck in his head again.
“It’s nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “I just…”
He trails off; he should’ve known better.
Chan smiles. It’s slow, sweet – genuine. “You like him.”
Felix snorts. “Bit more than like, at this point.”
“Yeah. I figured.”
Felix meets Chan’s gaze and his heart clenches. The man is beaming, eyes filled to the brim with the purest joy Felix has ever seen.
It’s cute. A little confusing, but cute.
“Whatever,” Felix mutters. “Not like it makes a difference.”
Chan’s brow furrows. “Why not?”
The blonde scoffs. “Chan. Seriously?”
“What?”
Felix sighs. “I’m not… we’re just friends. Seungmin doesn’t feel that way about me.”
Chan gives him a strange look. “Are you… you don’t think so?”
“Of course not.”
A myriad of expressions passes across Chan’s face then, but Felix can’t decipher most of them. Confusion, definitely. The rest, he’s not sure.
“Felix…” The man clears his throat. “Felix, no offense, mate, but that’s fucking absurd.”
Felix’s face pinches, stunned. “What?”
Chan huffs fondly. “You really don’t see it?”
“See what?”
He smiles, so warm and kind that Felix feels like he might cry. “If you don’t already see it,” he begins, shaking his head, “then I don’t think my saying anything will make a difference.”
“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?” Felix presses, fingers curling on the tabletop in frustration.
Chan giggles. “I’m talking about the fact that you and Seungmin are clearly in love with each other but are too fucking stupid to do anything about it!”
Felix throws his head back and groans. “He’s not in love with me!”
“Right, see?” Chan grins, triumphant. “Nothing I say will make a difference. We’re all just gonna have to sit around for a hundred years until you open your eyes and figure it out for yourself.”
Felix glares at him. Honestly? He’s pissed. “I can walk right out the door right now,” he threatens, pointing at the entrance.
Chan’s face softens, his smile morphing into something more pleading, eyes round and puppy-ish. “No, c’mon! I’ll stop, I promise. No more questions. At least, not about that.”
Felix arches a brow, skeptical. “Promise? Really?”
Chan beams, nodding like a bobblehead. “Really. I promise.”
And that’s that. They eat, they chat, they laugh – because Chan is a fucking bundle of joy and Felix is a Grade A sucker – and at the end, Chan pays for the meal because “he’s the hyung”.
Felix laughs. “Mate, I don’t even call you that!”
“Yeah, cuz you’re a little cunt,” Chan grumbles, pretending to be mad as he signs the bill.
Felix gasps loudly in mock offense, and Chan snickers as he stands, snagging his jacket from the back of his chair. “Just kidding,” he says, reaching for the blonde to ruffle his hair. “You’re my sweet baby duck, aren’t you?”
The younger grunts, scrunching up his nose as he bats Chan’s hand away. “Not a baby.”
Chan giggles. “Sure. You ready?”
As they step outside the restaurant, Felix is hit with a sudden wave of emotion. He blinks furiously against the sting in his eyes, attempts to swallow around the lump in his throat.
Chan clocks the shift immediately. “Hey,” he says, brows furrowed in concern. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Felix assures with a rapid nod. “Yeah, I just– I was just realizing that I don’t when I’m gonna see you again.”
Chan’s eyes go soft and misty. “Oh, Lixie.” He sweeps him up in a bone-crushing hug. “S’not forever, y’know.”
Felix nods into his shoulder. “Yeah, I know,” he rasps. “Gonna miss you, though.”
“I’m gonna miss you, too.”
They stay there for a moment, wrapped up in each other and swaying on the sidewalk, unwilling to part now that they’d finally found their way back to each other.
But moments can’t last forever, Felix knows this. So, he allows himself two more breaths, deep inhales of Chan’s cologne, the fresh linen scent of his laundry detergent… and then he steps back, just a little. Just enough to see that, oof, yeah – he’s not the only one getting emotional.
Chan sniffles, swipes at the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’ll come see you, I promise – haven’t been to Seoul in ages.” He chuckles, and Felix marvels at how a person can look so pretty even when they’re crying.
The blonde smiles, scrubbing a fist over his eyes. “That’d be great. You could meet Bubbles.”
“Oh, yeah!” Chan exclaims, eyes bright with excitement. “Your turtle, right?”
Felix nods. “She’s beautiful. You’ll love her.”
Chan beams. “I can’t wait.”
It’s a struggle, parting ways, but they finally manage it – amidst more sniffles and vice-like hugs, as well as promises to keep in touch this time, now that they’re both adults and have cell phones.
Felix cries on the way home, but it’s good, cathartic. It feels like a release, like he’s letting a piece of himself go. Something that wasn’t quite right – something he didn’t need.
⊱•⊰
When he gets home, Seungmin is standing at the dining room table messing around with some camera equipment. The brunette looks up as Felix approaches, just long enough to mutter a greeting before going back to cleaning his lenses.
“What are you up to?” Felix asks, picking up a flash and turning it over.
“Prepping for a shoot,” Seungmin answers. “Some corporate exec’s daughter is getting engaged.”
“Oh, nice.” Felix sets the flash down and places his palms flush on the table as he leans forward. “Excited?”
Seungmin shrugs. “Pays well. The concept leaves a bit to be desired, but whatever.”
Felix nods, and the two fall silent as Seungmin finishes getting his equipment ready – checking batteries, testing flashes, etc. – before packing everything up. He then sets the bag carefully on the floor and turns to Felix.
“You busy?”
Felix shakes his head. “Not really. Why?”
“I wanted to talk about something.”
Felix blinks, anxiety immediately prickling along his arms. “Oh. Um. Okay.”
They make their way over to the couch and sit on opposite ends, facing one another, which just serves to make Felix even more anxious. There’s no hiding like this; he’s completely exposed, and he has no idea what to expect in the first place.
Seungmin clears his throat. “Right, so. I–” He glances up then, and must see the budding panic on Felix’s face since his own immediately softens, mouth quirking fondly. “Relax. It’s not bad, I promise.”
Felix feels something in his chest immediately loosen. “Oh,” he replies, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
Seungmin chuckles. “Just wanna clarify some things, that's all.”
“Okay. What… what things?”
Seungmin purses his lips, exhaling slowly through his nose. “I know lately things between us have been a little… different…” He pauses, considering his next words. “So, I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing, make sure I haven’t overstepped.”
Felix blinks. “I… I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, like, the way I’ve been a bit firmer, at times – kind of telling you what to do. A bit more… hands-on, so to speak.”
Felix is utterly confused. “Oh. Um.” What the fuck is this conversation?
“I mean, so far you’ve seemed to be okay with it, but the more I thought about it the more I realized we ought to have a proper discussion about it before you leave.”
“Right… and– sorry, what is it, exactly?”
Seungmin stares at him. “Felix… you do understand what we’ve been doing, right?”
Felix feels a trace of familiarity slither ominously down his spine. This isn’t what Jinnie meant, he assures himself. It’s not that deep.
He takes a breath. “You’ve been helping me,” he says warily. “When I’m overwhelmed. Like – grounding and stuff.”
Seungmin nods, slowly, not so much in affirmation so much as confirmation of what he’s hearing and observing. “Right…” He pokes his tongue into his cheek, considering. “Lix, I know you know what BDSM is, yeah?”
…Alright, fine – so maybe it is that deep.
Felix swallows. “Um. Yeah?”
“And you also know that I’m a Dom, right?”
Holy shit.
“R-right…” he stutters, tugging at a stray thread on the couch cushion near his thigh.
“Okay… so, you’re aware then that what we’ve been doing is edging on a Dom/sub dynamic, yeah?”
Felix inhales so sharply he chokes, resulting in little sputtery coughs.
Seungmin sighs. “Okay, so maybe you weren’t aware,” he remarks, wearily dragging a hand over his face. “Fuck.”
Felix is in shock – total, unmitigated shock. The only thing he has the capacity for right now is the need to keep his lungs in his chest, so he focuses on that. When his breathing has finally settled, he risks a glance at Seungmin only to find the brunette already looking. His gaze is serious and unwavering, yet Felix can see the underlying care that’s always been present in his eyes.
“Look, I’m sorry,” the man apologizes. “This is on me. I thought you knew but, regardless, I should’ve clarified when this whole thing started; that was irresponsible of me.” He purses his lips, somewhat nervous. “But I wanna help you. Wanna help you… fix it, as you put it, whenever you feel like you don’t know how to do that on your own. But we need to be on the same page if we’re gonna make that work, so. Talk to me.”
Felix just stares, at a loss for words. This is completely uncharted territory, he has no idea how to go about navigating any of it… and he’s terrified. He’s fucking terrified.
And yet… his mind whispers.
And yet, this is Seungmin. Felix has always been safe with Seungmin, even during the years when all they did was bicker and snipe – so, why should this be any different?
“Um,” he whispers, eyes glued to where his tightly clasped hands lie cradled in his lap. “I– I didn’t realize, not really. I mean– I kind of knew?” His brow furrows as his fingers begin to fidget with the cuff of his jeans. “I think deep down I had a feeling. But I wasn’t, like, fully aware.”
Seungmin gives a slow nod. “Okay. And how do you feel about it?”
“I’m okay with it,” Felix murmurs, barely audible. “I… it helps. I think.”
“What helps?”
Felix takes a deep breath. “Telling me what to do. Like, not in a mean way, but just– giving me direction. Like when you gave me that to-do list on the beach the other day.”
“Simple tasks,” Seungmin concludes. “Okay. What else?”
“Well. Uhm. Touch is helpful, sometimes…”
“What kind of touch?”
“Um, you know…” Felix trails off, embarrassed, but Seungmin doesn’t let him get away with it.
“Felix, this isn’t gonna work if you can’t communicate with me.”
The blonde swallows once, twice, trying to work up his nerve.
“Are you embarrassed?”
Frustration surges within him, seemingly out of nowhere, bursting forth as he snaps, “Of course I’m embarrassed, Seungmin! I– this is so–” He groans at his inability to put thoughts into words, his fingers clenching into tight fists.
“Okay, okay,” the younger replies, tone soothing as he places a hand on Felix’s knee. “You’re alright. You’re safe.” He pauses as Felix takes a breath, exhaling somewhat shakily. “I wasn’t trying to make fun of you – just trying to understand what you’re feeling, that’s all.”
Felix swallows again, blinking rapidly. “I’m– I’m just overwhelmed. I don’t…” He sighs, his eyelids dropping closed in exhaustion. “Can we talk about this later? Please?”
He can tell Seungmin is hesitant, that he doesn’t like the idea; but in the end, he agrees. “Sure, Lix. Whatever you need.”
⊱•⊰
They don’t talk about it later, and as the days tick down to Felix’s departure, he prays and prays and prays that they never will.
Because he can’t handle it right now – it’s too much. The realization that his feelings for Seungmin run (much) deeper than friendship was enough of a struggle. He doesn’t need this – the idea of the two of them engaging in this kind of dynamic, of what it would mean for them – further muddying the waters. And so, he prays to anything that will listen that the two of them would be able to go on just as they are; no heartstopping discussions, no changes needed.
It’s fine – he’s fine.
⊱•⊰
Felix has no idea what he’s doing. Has no idea what possessed him to open his mouth and say the things he said. All he knows is that Seungmin is waiting for him in the other room, in bed, so they can sleep.
And Felix… Felix is panicking.
It’d been a normal evening, all things considered. Seungmin called off a last-minute meeting (“It’s a fucking weekend, I don’t know why they thought they could schedule something on a weekend”) so that they could spend Felix’s last day doing all of his favorite things. They spent the morning at Seoubong – bright and early, to watch the sunrise – then walked into town for brunch at their favorite café. About halfway through their meal, Seungmin offered to drive them down to Seogwipo so they could catch the afternoon ferry to Saesom (Felix cried when he did that – not a lot, but enough to warrant Seungmin leaning over to snag a napkin from the dispenser on their table).
When they got home later that evening, Seungmin made dinner, which they ate on the beach before going for a walk – up and down the shore, bare feet freezing in the sand, lungs expanding around the salty air. And that, well…
That brings them to the moment when Felix opens his big fat mouth and says, “I don’t wanna be alone tonight.” Because he doesn’t.
And Seungmin looks at him, shrugs, and says, “Who says you have to be?”
And now, somehow, Felix finds himself standing in the master bathroom, face-to-face with his reflection. He told Seungmin he was brushing his teeth when really he’s spent the past however many minutes trying to work up the courage to walk back into the bedroom and crawl into bed with the man.
Just fucking do it, he tells himself, bracing his arms on either side of the sink. S’not like you’ve never slept in the same bed before. Stop overthinking it.
When he steps out of the bathroom, Seungmin is slumped against the headboard, scrolling lazily on his phone.
“The hell were you doin’ in there?” he mumbles, eyes still glued to his screen.
“None of your business,” Felix retorts as he slides beneath the covers.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
Felix forces himself to breathe normally. It’s just a name, he tells himself. It doesn’t mean anything. He stares at the ceiling, unmoving, listening to Seungmin shift beside him as he switches the light off and settles in.
It’s quiet for a few minutes. Until…
“Seungmin,” he whispers, barely audible; half hoping the younger won’t hear him.
He should know better – Seungmin always hears him, even when he doesn’t wanna be heard.
“Yeah?”
He should keep his mouth shut. He should roll over, close his eyes, and never speak a word to a single human ever again…
Silence. Throat-clogging, suffocating silence.
“Never mind,” Felix retracts, his voice small and humiliated. “I just… it’s stupid.”
Fool. A goddamn fool, that’s what he is. Just a blithering, stupid halfwit. When he dies, his grave will read World-Class Moron in big, block letters, guaranteed.
“Stop thinking.”
Felix startles, inhaling sharply. “What?”
There’s a sigh behind him. Then slowly, the bed dips – sheets rustling with the movement – as Seungmin slides closer, so close that Felix can feel the heat radiating off of him. They’re not touching, but they might as well be; the proximity burns, sizzling along Felix’s spine.
His thoughts are a whirlwind, a run-on sentence of how close is Seungmin actually and should Felix stay where he is or should he scoot closer to the edge of the bed (maybe put some space between them again?) and what if Seungmin stays this close for the whole night and Felix accidentally kicks him or throws an arm in his face and holy shit, Seungmin is really close and Felix is getting really warm and–
An arm snakes over the dip in Felix’s waist, settling in a loose hold as Felix feels his ribs cinch tight around his lungs. Seungmin doesn’t move any closer, but he doesn’t need to – there’s no hiding the intention, the subtle intimacy in his action.
Felix’s heart rabbits in his chest, his breaths shallow as he tries to maintain his composure.
“I said stop thinking,” Seungmin repeats; Felix can feel his breath, warm on the back of his neck, his ear.
The blonde takes a breath, exhaling shakily. “I’m trying. Sorry.”
Seungmin grunts softly, tightening his grip ever so slightly. “Go to sleep, princess. You’re alright.”
He can’t, though. He’s too keyed up, thinking too hard about the implications of all this: the two of them together, in the same bed, cuddled up in each other’s arms. They’ve never done this, ever – not even at sleepovers when they were kids. Honestly? It’s terrifying. He’s stuck in his head again, skimming breaths off the top of his lungs, quick and shallow and anxious–
Until he realizes that Seungmin is humming – a rich, full sound vibrating deep in the hollow of Felix’s ear – and suddenly, everything fades to a simmer. Thoughts that were once blaring at the forefront are now relegated to the backburner as Felix feels the tension begin to seep from his bones.
He’s humming that song again – their song, the one his mother always sang. Seungmin’s tone is slow and warm, wrapping Felix in a cloud of safesafesafe. It’s easy, then, to close his eyes; to drift off with the weight of Seungmin’s arm still draped around his waist. It’s easy to deepen his breathing, to let the air flood his lungs as they fully inflate.
It’s easy to float on the sound of Seungmin’s voice – steady and unwavering – as he sinks into sleep. No ghosts, no memories; just pure imagination.
⊱•⊰
“Can’t believe you’re going home today.”
Felix chuckles as Seungmin tosses his suitcase into the back of the car, a fond smile tugging at his mouth. “You keep saying that.”
Seungmin’s forehead creases. “I know, I just… October really flew by, that’s all.”
Felix hums. “Yeah. It did.”
The drive to the airport is quiet. Felix spends most of it staring out the window, lost in thought. As he watches the island roll past, he thinks about that morning – about waking up in Seungmin’s bed, roused from slumber by the slow, steady rhythm of the man’s breathing. Seungmin’s arm hadn’t stayed put the whole night. At some point, he’d rolled over, facing the other way; but Felix had followed. Whether by coincidence or by instinct, Felix has no idea. All he knows is that, when he woke up, his nose was buried between Seungmin’s shoulder blades.
They weren’t holding each other – they weren’t. Really, if you wanted to argue the matter, Felix was holding himself, with the way his arms were curled into his chest… But the fact remained that – while they weren’t technically cuddling – they very much were still in each other’s space, one body pressed up against the other, completely at ease.
Even once Seungmin woke up – after Felix dug his nose a bit too hard into his spine, stretched his legs a bit too far into Seungmin’s space – he didn’t move right away. Felix felt the ribs beneath him expand, then slowly collapse as Seungmin released a sigh. It wasn’t until Seungmin rasped out a good morning that it finally hit Felix: where he was, the situation as a whole, how not normal it was for them.
He still can’t wrap his mind around it.
When they get to the airport, Seungmin pulls up to the Departure curb and puts the car in park, then hops out of the car as Felix finishes shoving his charging cord and his water bottle into his backpack. He zips everything up and exits the car, checking to make sure he has his phone and his wallet and–
And there’s Seungmin – waiting on the curb, watching him, hand gripping the handle of Felix’s suitcase.
Felix swallows. It sticks; he swallows again.
It hurts.
“You ready?” Seungmin asks, tone neutral.
Felix purses his lips, nodding. “Yeah.”
Seungmin nods back. “Great. Well.” He wheels the suitcase in front of himself, offering it to Felix.
Felix swallows yet again as he stares at Seungmin’s hand. He doesn’t take the suitcase.
“Thank you,” he murmurs instead. “For everything. I…”
Seungmin’s eyes soften, something flickering momentarily, there and gone. “Don’t mention it.” He clears his throat, nudging the suitcase closer to Felix. “See you at Christmas?”
“I think so,” Felix replies, nodding as he grabs the suitcase handle. “Have to talk to Rach and Liv, but – we’ll see.”
Seungmin shrugs. “They could come with, you know.”
Felix throws his head back with a laugh. “Oh, god. Imagine.”
The other grins. “What? I’m serious.”
“Right – okay.”
Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
Felix lets out one last chuckle, although it’s more breath than laugh – slow, as if reluctant to leave his mouth. “I should probably get going,” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” Seungmin affirms.
Neither one moves.
“Call me, alright?”
“Why would I do that?” Felix tries to joke because that’s what they normally do; that’s what he’d normally say.
The joke falls flat on the pavement, though – because things aren’t normal anymore – and when he looks up, Seungmin’s gaze is boring into him.
“Felix. Call me.”
And Felix hears, now, what Seungmin isn’t saying, what he leaves between the lines: call me when you need me.
Call me when you can’t sleep.
Call me when it hurts too much.
Call me when you can’t fix it.
Call me.
He swallows, lash line stinging with emotion, and nods.
“Say it,” Seungmin demands, voice soft but no less firm.
“I will,” Felix rasps, nodding again. “I’ll call you.”
Seungmin nods. “Good.”
He steps closer, and Felix thinks – for a split second – that Seungmin might hug him. But the man just slides his fingers into his hair, tousling the blonde strands.
“Be good,” he mutters, hand slipping from Felix’s head.
His lashes flutter. “I’ll try.”
Seungmin smiles – a small, soft quirk of his mouth. “You will.” His eyes rove over the blonde’s face, tracing some unknown path. “You’re always good.”
Felix wants to die. Right here, right now – cocooned in the sound of Seungmin’s voice telling him he’s good.
Seungmin tips his head toward the entrance then and says, “Alright, get outta here. I don’t have all day.”
Felix huffs a laugh; it’s either that or cry. “Okay. Talk soon.”
Then he wheels his suitcase into the airport before he can change his mind. Before he can convince himself that Seoul is perfectly fine with one less inhabitant. Before he buries himself so deep in Seungmin’s arms, he starts to grow roots.
He doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t check to see if Seungmin is still there, if he’s watching…
Felix won’t be able to leave if he does.