Archive of Our Own ^beta

Felix had no other choice, really. Jisung and Hyunjin were both busy, and he wasn’t going to risk Seungmin making fun of him the entire time, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to ask any of their partners to model for him. Not that any of them would have minded, but Felix felt awkward enough asking his closest friends to model nude for him, so asking his friends’ boyfriends who he wasn’t quite as close to was completely off the table. 

Which left him with two options. One, he could set up mirrors around himself and painstakingly draw himself. 

Or two, he could ask his father. 

The first one was almost immediately denied in Felix’s mind, he did not want to go through the hassle of setting up mirrors and staring at himself for hours as he drew out every line that made up his own features. 

Which left the task of asking—rather, convincing—Chan to model for him. Not that Felix couldn’t do it, his father had a soft spot for Felix that was the size of Australia, but this wasn’t an activity he had ever requested before. If it hadn’t been for the stupid art elective he had taken and his even more stupid inability to draw people, Felix wouldn’t even have had to worry about this predicament in the first place. 

It would be an odd request, but Felix had always been close with his father, so it wouldn’t be too strange for Chan to model for him, would it?

Hyunjin had people model nude for him all the time for different art pieces he was working on and it never meant anything. Changbin didn’t have a problem with his boyfriend looking at naked people for his job. 

Felix asking Chan to model naked for him wasn’t anything different. And as a fashion designer and artist himself, surely his father would understand. He had been the one to push Felix to become better at drawing people for his designs in the first place. 

It was afternoon when Felix first suggested it. 

He had come home from his class late, nervous and jittery over the assignment that was due in only a few short days, and was surprised to see Chan waiting for him in the kitchen. 

The surprise only lasted a few short moments until Felix remembered that it was Thursday, the day Chan always tried his best to set aside to spend time with his son. Weekends were frequently too busy, and weekdays were meant for working, but Thursdays seemed to fit their plans more often than not. There were times when one or both of them were busy, though Felix knew his dad always did what he could to make it to their weekly bonding time, despite how much was always on his plate. 

Felix had been so stressed over what he was going to ask his dad to do that he had completely forgotten what day of the week it was. Now that he was older and could take care of himself more easily, Chan had taken to coming home later on Thursdays, which Felix told himself he didn’t mind. His dad still came home with enough time for them to eat dinner and watch a movie or show together, but it was unusual to see him home when the sun was still out. 

Chan glanced up from the vegetables he was chopping when he heard the sounds of Felix making his way through the house and gave him a bright smile. “Lix! Welcome home, honey.”

Swallowing the nerves crawling their way up his throat, Felix returned his dad’s smile and shuffled over to give Chan a one-armed hug. “Hey, Dad, you’re home early.”

“The events I had planned for the weekend got rescheduled, so I thought I would take off a little early and spend some extra time with my favorite kid,” Chan replied, leaning into Felix and lightly knocking the sides of their heads together. 

Felix snickered and stepped back with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m your only kid, you have to say I’m your favorite.”

“You know that’s not true.” Chan wagged a carrot at Felix before starting to chop it up. “Even if I had five kids, you’d still be my favorite.”

Felix didn’t doubt him for a second, he hadn’t grown up with any siblings or a mother, but Chan more than made up for the lack of a second parent or any siblings. As a child, Felix had never wanted for anything—save for maybe more of his dad’s time—but he knew Chan was hard at work to provide for him and give him everything he desired. Chan had an endless sweet spot for Felix, constantly doting on him throughout Felix’s life and ensuring he had as happy of a life as possible. 

Maybe it was a little prideful, but Felix knew he would still be his dad’s favorite, no matter how many siblings he might have in other worlds. 

“Whatever you say,” Felix said airily with a shake of his head and breezed over to the other side of the kitchen. He wouldn’t let his dad know about the tiny, hidden part of him that preened at the knowledge that he would always be Chan’s favorite. “What are you making?”

“I thought curry might be good since we haven’t had it in a while,” Chan answered. 

As if on cue, Felix’s stomach rumbled loudly. He let out a surprised laugh and smacked a hand over his mouth, his eyes going wide. Across the kitchen island, Chan glanced back at him, a cheeky smile on his face and one eyebrow raised. 

“Sounds like someone’s hungry, hm?” Chan asked, gathering the cut vegetables in separate piles on the cutting board. 

“I’ve been awake and busy since early this morning—haven’t had any time to eat anything,” Felix responded easily and pretended he didn’t see the concerned glance Chan gave him out of the corner of his eye. His father had always worried about him too much, but Felix couldn’t help it that he had gone all day on an empty stomach, save for the protein bar and coffee he’d downed on his way to his first class. He had meant to eat something sooner, he really had, it had just slipped his mind. 

The swirling anxiety in his stomach hadn’t helped much, either. 

“Well, I’ll make sure you eat well over the next few days to make up for it.” When Felix looked back at his dad, he found the concerned expression was long gone, replaced instead with a gentle smile—the same one Chan always used when comforting Felix after a bad day. His dimples were on display, eyes crinkling around the edges. The lines were deeper now, more so than when Felix was younger, but none of that took away from the warmth in his father’s eyes. 

“You go ahead and get changed into something comfortable and pick out a movie for us to watch while I get this whipped up, yeah?” Chan asked when Felix didn’t reply to his previous comment. 

Felix nodded quickly and returned the smile he was given. “Sounds good, I’ll be back soon.”

Without waiting for an answer, Felix turned on his heel and darted up the stairs.

As he went about his business of pulling out random comfortable clothes to wear and making his way to the bathroom for a shower, Felix contemplated how exactly he would bring up his proposition to his dad. Felix knew that Chan was trying to be helpful and encouraging by pushing him to be better with his drawings and that it would help in the long run when he became a designer in his dad’s company. But Chan’s ways of encouragement felt a bit more like insurmountable pressure when he brought up all the little ways Felix’s art could be better. 

It wasn’t Felix’s fault he hadn’t gotten every last bit of talent that way his dad had, and even though he wanted nothing more than to follow in Chan’s footsteps, it was difficult to feel like he would ever have the chance if his art wasn’t up to where Chan thought it should be. Felix excelled at coming up with different concepts and executing them from the image in his mind, but that alone wouldn’t get him where he needed to be. If he was going to work with a team, he needed to have the drawing skills to help everyone else visualize what was going on inside his head. 

That was what Chan always said when critiquing Felix’s drawn out designs and even though Felix knew that was the truth, it always stung just a little to hear that at least in one vein, he wasn’t good enough. 

Which led him to where he was today. 

Felix had received an assignment to sketch out a still-life drawing of another person, with a focus on the details. Still-life was one of Felix’s weakest points when it came to drawing, there had always been some sort of mental block there that kept him from being able to fully capture the essence of the person he was sketching. 

He wondered if it had been because his previous subjects were always already wearing clothes that he hadn’t been able to remove the blockade from his mind. That maybe, if Felix tried from scratch, with a person’s most raw form, he might finally draw something that would make his father proud of him. And make Felix someone worthy of working in his dad’s company, remove the claims of favoritism because he was the boss’s son. 

As childish as it may have been, there was nothing Felix longed for more than the approval of his dad in everything he did. Chan was the parent that stuck around, the one that didn’t abandon Felix the way his mother did shortly after his birth, the one that was there every time Felix had a scraped knee or a question he couldn’t solve in math. He put aside so much for Felix to make him feel loved and cared for, it was natural for Felix to want to give back and make Chan proud. 

And he would, even if his method of getting there was to take a somewhat… unconventional road. 

The shower hadn’t helped Felix sort out how to go about asking his father to model for him, but it had strengthened his resolve to make it work. He was positive if he only got over this last hurdle, he would finally be in the clear. It would work. It had to. 

As Felix tramped downstairs, the smell of fresh-made curry wafted its way into his nose and sent his stomach rumbling all over again. Chan tried to cook for Felix as much as he could when he was young, but as he got older and Chan came home later, they started to rely more on takeout for their designated movie nights. 

Felix wouldn’t admit it aloud—he knew Chan was busy enough and shouldn’t have to worry about making food from scratch—but he missed when he got to eat more of his dad’s homemade meals. They held a special place in his heart, a reminder of when he was younger and had more of his dad’s undivided attention, of a time before making Chan proud consumed Felix’s every waking moment. 

Realistically, he knew his father would continue to be proud of him—it was part of his job as a parent—no matter how much he pushed Felix about his art. But Felix wanted to earn it, he wanted to prove himself and be undeniably worthy of all the love and care Chan had given him over the years. 

Chan was finishing up the curry when Felix rounded the corner into the kitchen and beckoned him over with one hand. “You’re just in time! The food’s all ready now, so grab a bowl, I have rice and everything else set out over here.”

Felix took a deep inhale of the appetizing scent of the curry as he made his way closer to where his dad had laid the meal components out. “Smells really good, it’s been a while since I’ve had your curry.”

“It has, and I’m sorry for that,” Chan said, stepping aside to let Felix serve himself. “But I'll try and make it more often if you’d like.”

Felix shrugged it off. It wasn’t the curry he was truly talking about—that was made with blocks from the store, even if it did always taste a little extra special when his dad made it for him. He knew Chan would pick up on it, too, the second meaning behind Felix’s words. 

“I haven’t seen you much lately. I miss you.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try and be better.”

Chan always did have an uncanny ability to pick up on Felix’s secondary meanings, he was never able to hide anything from his dad. Chan would sniff his true feelings out in no time flat. 

Felix scooped some rice into a bowl and ladled some of the curry over top of it, a slightly larger portion so his dad wouldn’t worry about him eating too little. He turned to face Chan with a smile. “Anytime you’d like to make this again, I’ll be happy to eat it.”

“It’s okay. You’re busy and I’m not a child anymore. I’m happy to take what I can get.”

Chan grinned back and gave Felix a light pat on the shoulder. “I’ll take you up on that. Why don’t you go and get something to watch set up and I’ll be right there.”

Felix chuckled, beginning to head toward the living room and calling out over his shoulder, “Don’t take too long, old man, or I’ll start the movie without you!”

He heard his dad make a noise of offense, his exaggerated groan echoing throughout the downstairs floor. Felix snickered to himself and hopped on the couch, queuing up a drama he’d had his eye on for a while but waiting to press play until Chan dropped down next to him. 

“So much for starting without me, hm?” Chan quipped, giving Felix a knowing look as he bumped their shoulders together. 

Felix rolled his eyes jokingly and wagged his spoon in Chan’s face. “Only because it’s bad movie night etiquette. You wouldn’t be safe from me otherwise.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute,” Chan replied, his eyes crinkling in the corners and his lips curving upward. “Now eat up, little one, I don’t want that food to go cold.”

A mix of warmth and embarrassment tumbled through Felix—the warmth from being called a name he heard less and less frequently the older he got, followed by the embarrassment of not hating the term Chan called him by his whole life. Felix should have felt endless shame at being addressed like a child when he was a senior in college approaching his mid-twenties, but instead there was only the bubbling warmth in the reminder that no matter what, his dad still loved him. 

Not that he would ever tell Chan as much and made a face at him before replying in a high-pitched tone, “Yes, Daddy.”

Chan snorted, a surprised bark of laughter escaping him. Then, quietly, in a tone Felix suspected he wasn’t supposed to have heard, Chan muttered, “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

And it was true, Felix had stopped calling Chan that almost entirely when he was thirteen and got bullied mercilessly by some of the other boys at school for still using that particular name for his father. Now though, Felix only brought out that term at a time such as this when he felt like being a little extra silly. 

It wasn’t to cover up the feeling that being addressed as ‘little one’ brought with it. Most certainly not. 

Without giving the matter any more thought, Felix pressed play on the TV remote and began shoveling his curry and rice into his mouth. 

For a while, they ate in silence, the only sounds being that of their spoons scraping against their bowls and the chatter of the show they were watching. It was calm, peaceful—almost enough to distract Felix from the question that had been rolling around in his mind the past few days. But it wasn’t enough to let him forget about it, he couldn’t forget about it—his assignment was due on Tuesday. 

Not that Felix thought he would be able to do a very good job at it anyway, but turning in something was better than nothing. 

By the time both bowls were empty, Felix was feeling more anxious than ever, no matter how much he told himself it wasn’t too odd of a request, that it would make his father proud if he could just draw a little bit better. His time to fret was over, it was now time for Felix to suck it up and ask for help getting over that final hurdle in his brain. 

Taking a deep breath, Felix turned to face Chan. “Dad?”

“Hm?” Chan glanced Felix’s way, a curious expression on his features. 

“Well,” Felix started, swallowing down a bout of nerves that threatened to bring his supper up with them, “you said you have the weekend off?”

“That I do,” Chan replied easily. “I thought we could spend a little extra time together, I feel like I haven’t seen you much lately.”

He hadn’t. Between running a successful business and being one of the most sought after designers in the industry, Felix had hardly seen his father over the past few months, save for the times he made it to their designated movie night. Even those had been growing more sparse as of late. 

But Felix wouldn’t bring that up now, not when he had something to ask of Chan. 

Instead he just shrugged it off and said, “You’re busy, I get it. Since you have some more free time away from work, I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Whatever you need, Lix. What is it?” Chan looked at Felix with a curious expression, head tilted to one side. 

Felix had seen his share of posts about his dad on the internet, fan accounts talking about how attractive he was, even though he was nearing his mid-forties and greying around the temples. They said Chan looked almost puppyish, especially when he tilted his head to the side. And for the briefest of moments, Felix couldn’t help but agree. 

The fan pages felt a little weird to see, but he understood it, Felix had always had a bit of a thing for older men, too. He wouldn’t try and begrudge his dad’s fans the opportunity to thirst over DILF material when that was also his own type. What weirded him out even more was actually agreeing with one of the things he’d seen pop up on those accounts the most. 

But Felix didn’t have time to wallow over the odd feeling that came with the realization that he found himself thinking the same thing as any of those fan accounts, he could deal with that later. 

“I know you’ve been wanting me to get better at drawing people and I think I’ve figured out a way to get past what’s holding me back,” Felix said, ignoring the way his hands had started to tremble slightly. 

“Oh?” Chan asked, his voice pitching up slightly. “And what’s that?”

“I want you to model nude for me.”

In a single moment, Felix felt something shift between them. One of Chan’s eyebrows raised in disbelief and for a second too long, he didn’t say a word. 

“You- you want me to what?” Chan finally spoke after a minute of silence, sounding squeaky. If Felix didn’t know his father as well as he did, he would’ve missed the way Chan’s ears had tinged a bright shade of pink. 

Felix couldn’t back down now. Chan hadn’t immediately said no—though that may have been because he was too stunned to give a full answer—which meant Felix had a foot in the door and would take every inch he was given. 

“I know it sounds odd, but I think it would really help,” Felix added quickly. “I mean, to be able to design the perfect pieces, I need to see the lines of a person in their most raw form. And what’s more raw than being naked? If I start there, building up to sketching out my own designs shouldn’t be that much more difficult.”

Felix could practically see the wheels turning inside his dad’s head, his words sinking in and hopefully taking hold inside Chan’s brain. When Chan didn’t answer right away, Felix pushed a bit more. “And I have a still-life assignment next week and I really want to do well with it, just like you told me I should always try for.”

Chan glanced back at him, then, from where he had been intently staring a hole into the carpet at their feet. “Felix… it’s good that you want to get better at art, it’ll help you a lot when you start in my company. But, I’m your father, shouldn’t you choose one of your friends to help you out instead? What about Hyunjin?”

“Hyunjin’s already busy this weekend and so is Jisung,” Felix answered, ticking his fingers off one by one. “I’m not asking Seungmin and I don’t feel comfortable asking any of their boyfriends, either. Which just leaves me with you.”

With a soft huff, Chan turned fully in his spot to face Felix and folded his hands together in his lap. “Wouldn’t it be weird for you, though? To see me… like that? Most kids would rather die than look at a parent naked, much less draw them like that.”

Felix nodded slightly. His dad very clearly hadn’t been his first go-to, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world to use him as a model, especially if it helped Felix become a better artist as a result. Besides, Chan was objectively handsome, so it wasn’t as if Felix would need to cleanse his eyes afterward. It would only be a little awkward, but it was a risk he was willing to take to make his dad proud. 

“It wouldn’t be the most normal thing in the world for me,” Felix began, making sure to choose his words carefully before speaking them, “but I want to get better, and I really think this might help. Plus, it wouldn’t be any different than when Hyunjin uses nude models—it’s just part of the business, right?”

It was entirely different than when Hyunjin used nude models for his art pieces, because he wasn’t related to any of those models, but if it got Felix closer to his goal, he would keep his mouth shut about the technicalities. 

For a long moment, Chan just stared at him, brows furrowing in the center of his forehead as he thought Felix’s request through. Felix was mere seconds away from getting to his knees on the floor and begging when Chan shook his head and sighed deeply. “I have wanted you to get better with your art skills, so if you truly think this will help, then I’ll do it.”

Immediately, a wide smile broke across Felix’s face and without a second thought, he launched himself forward and wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck. “Thank you! It’ll help, I promise.”

Chan let out a surprised laugh and brought his arms up to encase Felix. “Anything for you, Lix.”

Felix only let himself bask in the warmth of his father’s embrace for a moment before he was pulling away, relief bubbling up in his chest at having been able to put his plan into motion so easily. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Felix was reminded just how much he had missed Chan’s hugs—that was another thing that had decreased in occurrence the more of an adult he became. Not that Felix would ever tell his dad that, either, but there were times when he missed being young and having the ability to crawl into Chan’s arms whenever he wanted, whether there was a reason to or not. 

His chest feeling much lighter than before, Felix pushed himself up off the couch and collected his and Chan’s bowls to take them into the kitchen. “Since you’re free for the weekend, is it okay if we start tomorrow?”

Chan glanced up at Felix and nodded, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Whatever you’d like, little one.”

This time, Felix didn’t try to push down the rush of happiness at the use of the pet name. 

The next day, Felix busied himself setting up lights and a comfortable place for Chan to sit in between bouts of sketching. He figured he would do two drawings, one standing up and another sitting down, all in the name of making himself better. The more material Felix had to work with, the faster he would overcome the roadblock keeping him from his full potential. 

The curtains in one of his dad’s design rooms were pulled back to let in some natural light and along with it, went up some lights to help even out the brightness and tone of the light shining into the room. When Felix was finished with the space, it looked almost like a true studio, one of the many that he had seen before when visiting his dad’s company. 

All that was missing was the subject of the room. 

At just past noon, Chan came shuffling in, just as Felix had confirmed with him the night before, prior to going to bed. He didn’t appear to be dressed in anything aside from a fluffy, dark blue robe that he had a habit of wandering around in when it was just him and Felix in their house. Which, truth be told, was more often than not.

Felix had never thought about what Chan might look like under the fuzzy piece of fabric but now that he was mere moments away from knowing, he felt his mouth go dry for the briefest of seconds. Just as quickly, he shrugged the odd feeling off and focused on the job laid out before him. It was just so he could become a better artist and make his father proud, there was no reason for him to overthink it. 

He smiled over at Chan, who looked the tiniest bit like he might throw up, and beckoned him farther into the room. “Dad, you’re here! Thank you for helping me out with this, I know this is what I need to finally get better.”

Chan returned the smile, seeming to perk up a bit when Felix spoke to him. “Anything to help you improve with your art.”

“I really appreciate it,” Felix reiterated and stepped closer to Chan, taking his wrist gently and tugging him to the center of the room, where everything had been set up. “What do you think of my setup? I tried to set it up like one of the studios at your company.”

Chan gave the room a look over and nodded before glancing back to Felix. “It looks great, Lix. You do have an eye for design.”

“Wonder where I got it from,” Felix said with a laugh, lightly nudging at Chan’s shoulder. “I thought I could do two separate drawings, one where you’re standing and then one sitting, to give you a break.”

“What? You think I’m too old to be able to stand up for that long?” Chan threw an incredulous look Felix’s way, though mischief danced in his eyes, telling the truth that he wasn’t truly offended by anything Felix was suggesting. 

Felix rolled his eyes jokingly and patted his dad’s shoulder. “You said it, not me. Now go get in position so we can get this done.”

The sooner Felix broke through the barrier, the faster he could leave this behind and focus on making Chan proud of him. It was all he wanted. 

“As you wish,” Chan answered and stepped closer to the chair Felix had set up off to one side of the room while Felix gathered his art supplies from where he’d left them on a nearby desk. 

When Felix turned back around, it was just in time to see his dad shrug off the robe wrapped around him and set it on the chair. With the robe no longer separating them, Felix could see all of Chan’s body, every inch of bare skin now exposed to air around them. 

Felix had always known his dad was conventionally attractive and only seemed to get more handsome the older he got. He’d seen the people online that thirsted over Chan and went into great detail about the things they wanted him to do to them. He’d always tried to ignore them because it was weird to hear his father being spoken about in such a way—it would be weird for anyone to hear. 

But now, being stared right in the face by his dad’s completely naked body, Felix found himself teetering on the brink of understanding all the posts he’d tried to shove out of his mind. 

As Chan got into position, Felix tried his hardest to keep his eyes fixed to Chan’s face, which had gone a shade of bright red over his cheeks, the flush spreading down the skin of his neck. Felix flipped his sketchbook open to a random page and selected one of his pencils from their case, willing away the blush creeping up on his own face. Taking a deep breath, Felix reminded himself that no matter how awkward or weird he felt, it was for the best—this was a necessary step to succeed in all of his goals. 

Felix scribbled the date in one corner of the page before looking up at Chan again. His fingers itched. For what, he didn’t know. 

His father stood in the center of the room, posed the way Felix would assume a god would when basking in the praise of his loyal followers. The fact that from his face all the way to his upper chest was tinged with pink did nothing to take away from the almost regal way Chan held himself—one arm bent at the elbow with his forefinger touching his chin and his weight resting on one leg with his other knee bent. Tanned skin seemed to go on for miles, and the more Felix looked, the more he felt a strange sensation slithering through him, starting in his stomach and worming its way up into his throat until he felt like he might choke on it. 

It was just for his assignment and to make his dad proud. That was the only reason they were here, he didn’t have to go and make things weird because of it.  

A tiny whisper in the back of his mind told him that even this was weird, it wasn’t an activity a child did with their parent, no matter how desperate they were for approval. Felix shook it off and took another deep breath. 

“Is this a good position for you, Lix?” Chan’s voice sounded strained, but also like he was trying very desperately to keep a light tone. The words pulled Felix out of his own mind and he blinked once, then nodded. 

“Perfect,” Felix said, giving Chan a smile that he hoped was convincing enough. “Let me know if you need to sit down.”

Felix might very well need to sit down after this. But he would push through, he had to. 

“That won’t be for a while, my joints aren’t too old, yet,” Chan replied, cracking a smile that put Felix’s racing heart at ease. This was an unusual situation for the both of them and yet Chan was still trying to make Felix comfortable—even though if Felix had just been a little better at sketching people, neither of them would have had to be here. 

Felix didn’t answer, didn’t quite know how to answer, so he just laughed and attempted to focus on the task at hand. None of this meant anything, it was just a means to an end. 

Eyes flicking between his father and the paper, Felix carefully began sketching out a rough drawing of Chan. He started first with his base form, all the rough angles and perfect lines that were normally buried underneath layers of clothes and hidden from plain view. All triangles and circles and rectangles, veins of pencil strokes connecting them together. 

Felix had never allowed himself to look at his dad like this—had never wanted to look at him in such a raw, vulnerable way. But now that he had, Felix wasn’t sure if he could go back to seeing Chan the way he had before.

And, to an unsettling mix of both horror and relief, Felix discovered that having his model be naked helped. 

For the first time, one of his sketches of a person actually resembled a person, and not a jumbled mess of arms that were too long and legs that were different heights. Even though the drawing was still in the shaping stage, it was already looking more like a human than anything Felix had sketched prior. 

Holding his sketchpad in one hand, Felix made his way around Chan in a full circle, just to get the fullest view of him. Having a better grasp of what his dad looked like from each angle would help in his quest to draw him even better—that way Felix would know exactly where to round off certain areas and keep others more sharp. 

Looking at Chan in the nude still sparked an odd feeling but Felix pushed it down, trying to appreciate the objective artistic appeal of how his dad was built. 

They were the same height, but in pictures, Chan looked like he easily could have been much taller than he truly was. His muscles were still unfairly defined for a man in his forties, with strong arms, meaty thighs, and an ass that was the definition of a bubble butt. 

In another time, another place, another relation, the body before him would have been enough to make Felix salivate. It would have had him dreaming about getting his mouth on those pecs and running his hands over abs that looked better than any chocolate bar. 

But this wasn’t another world, this was his father’s body that Felix had fallen too deep down a spiral of admiring. With no small amount of shame, Felix realized he had been standing there, staring for far too long and not drawing a single stroke on his page. 

As quickly as he could, Felix began scribbling on his page again, now working on fleshing out the skeleton of shapes he’d drawn already. He flicked his eyes between where Chan stood and the sketchbook, dutifully keeping his eyes fixed on any part of him that wasn’t where his attention wanted to drift to most. Felix was notoriously curious and it had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. He couldn’t let his curiosity win now, not with this.

Felix kept scratching his pencil over the paper, the jumble of person-like shapes slowly turning into something that was already looking miles better than anything he’d ever drawn before. Square, yet slightly rounded shoulders, a trim waist that drew the eyes downward to a pair of powerful thighs that would have anyone in their right mind jealous. Already emotionally wrung out from the strange feelings that had begun to lurk under the surface of his skin, Felix tried to keep his mind clear and only focus on the drawing he was working on. 

Unfortunately that was much easier said than done the farther along in the drawing Felix got and the more he realized he would have to deal with the glaringly unfinished spot right between Chan’s sketched thighs, whether he wanted to or not.

It felt like an invasion of privacy, sketching out a rough drawing of his father’s cock, even if Chan had willingly gone along with Felix’s request.   

Felix tried desperately not to take more than a few spare glances at the real thing, anxious he might violate some delicate boundary that was already wavering in the face of a single afternoon. As horrible as Felix felt he was, he couldn’t deny the allure of it—looking for as long as he wanted in the one spot a child should never look at their parent. 

But even though he was curious—detrimentally so—Felix forced himself not to look all he pleased. He was scared of what it might do to the tightrope he had perched himself on and the careful balance he held, not wanting to dip too far one way or the other and cause himself to plummet into the depths. 

It would be too easy of a fall, one Felix knew he would descend into much faster than he could control. The day had already unlocked too many new emotions that were tangling up his insides, and the last thing Felix wanted was to pile any more into the jumble of knots that were his guts. 

Doing his best to glance past the carefully trimmed pubic hair and cock that even soft made his mind spin—from nausea or sick interest, he didn’t know—Felix still wasn’t ready for what awaited him when the afternoon stretched on into the golden hour. 

He had completed the first full sketch of Chan in the nude, and it looked like a person, like something that could wear one of the thousands of designs Felix had rolling around in his head. Despite everything else that was tying his stomach into complicated knots, Felix couldn’t help but be proud of himself for the achievement. He hadn’t shown his dad yet, had been too nervous to and told him he would show him after the other sketch was completed as well.

Now, Chan sat on—or rather, lounged across—the chair Felix had set up. He was posed in a dramatic way, an arm draped over the back of the chair while the other laid over his stomach, his head tilted to one side and his legs spread wide. He looked regal. 

He looked delectable. 

Felix wasn’t sure if his hands still itched the way they had when he first looked at his dad’s naked body, he hadn’t been able to feel them for the past half hour. Not since Chan sat down in that horrible position, not looking like he gave a single fuck about what anyone might think of him, daring for someone to tell him not to sit however he wanted. 

It was late in the afternoon, the sun shining in from the large windows that ran along the outside wall and running along Chan’s body, illuminating his skin so it looked nearly golden. Felix’s friends always said he reminded them of a ray of sunshine, and in that moment, with Chan sitting across from him and looking like the embodiment of light itself, Felix could see where he got it from. 

Trying to draw was difficult when Felix felt like he was only a hair’s breadth away from some revelation that would send him spiraling down a path he didn’t want to venture. 

But he tried, he tried desperately to concentrate on the sketch in front of him, even as he felt his concentration slipping with every moment that passed. 

It was odd, wasn’t it, to think of one’s father as accursedly attractive and become distracted when faced with him in such a raw way? 

Of course it was, the answer shot through Felix’s mind and condemned him without remorse. No normal child was curious about seeing their parents unclothed, much less thought they were attractive after seeing them like that. But—it was just from an objective standpoint. Felix didn’t actually think his father was attractive in that way. It was all from an artistic perspective—he now understood the point of all those fan pages just a little bit more. 

The only sound in the room was the scratch of Felix’s pencil against paper as he drew and drew and tried not to think about the implications of anything he had done. The second sketch came out even better than the first, looking like something that could be used as an inspiration to draw one of Felix’s original designs over. 

For better or worse, he had actually done it. Felix had finally gotten over that hurdle in his mind that had been holding him back. 

When he was finished, the last bits of shading done, Felix breathed out a sigh of relief and straightened up from where he had been hunching over his work for heaven only knew how long. He glanced over at Chan, only to find his father already staring back at him. 

Chan’s eyes were half-lidded, making the sordid picture he painted even more enticing to Felix’s weak, confused heart and Felix stood on shaky legs from where he was seated. He took a step closer before halting, not daring to get any closer, and he held his sketchbook up with one hand. 

“I’m finally finished, do you wanna see?” Felix’s voice was surprisingly stable for how choked his throat felt and he wasn’t sure if he should be afraid of the fact that he was having any of the reactions that he was. 

Chan relaxed immediately, stretching out his limbs and reaching for the robe that had been set aside what felt like an eternity ago. “Of course, we can do that while deciding what to order in?”

Felix nodded frantically. He was starving, neither of them had eaten since before they started the session, even though Felix had offered to get them lunch more than once. Chan had wanted to keep going, to get it over and done with in one go. Felix had understood, he wasn’t sure how well he would have been able to handle seeing his father getting undressed for him a second time. 

“Maybe we can order from the chicken place a couple streets over?” Felix suggested, words sounding slightly stilted. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to speak to his dad normally again after today. 

“Sounds perfect,” Chan replied. At some point during the afternoon, the blush that had covered Chan’s skin faded, though it had returned as if in full bloom, covering him in a light pink. 

Chan lightly laid a hand on Felix’s shoulder, Felix feeling like he might collapse under the gentle weight of it. He pushed his feet to move, one after the other, and walked out of the room, making his way downstairs to the living room. He crashed onto the couch, sketchbook still in hand. Chan followed suit and tramped down the stairs, still in the blasted robe he’d clothed himself in after Felix was finished and seeming to have no plans to change into different attire. 

Felix had seen him in that robe a thousand times before, it never meant anything, never gave him reason to pause. But now that he had seen what lay under the expanse of fuzzy blue fabric, Felix found himself unable to concentrate on almost anything else. The two sides of himself were at war, one wishing for Chan to cover up and never show an inch of skin any longer. While the other, shame-filled part of him raged to be able to look at his father all he wanted, to see every bit of skin and toned muscle that hid beneath his robe. 

Felix hated himself. 

In a single afternoon, his entire world had been titled on his head and opened the door to something Felix was terrified of. Though what scared him even more was the fact that some tiny, traitorous part of him didn’t want to stop it. 

Chan sat down next to Felix with a groan, one that sounded very much like-

Felix cleared his throat and turned to look at his dad, a mirror image of the position they were in only a day ago when he changed their relationship forever. How much had shifted in such a short handful of hours. 

“If you want, you can take a look at what I’ve drawn and I’ll order the food?” Felix asked, placing his sketchbook atop Chan’s knees. 

“I’m alright with that,” Chan answered and fished in his robe pocket for his phone to hand over to Felix. “My card information is already in there, so order whatever you’d like.”

“Okay.” Felix took Chan’s phone and unlocked it, holding in the comment he wanted to make about being able to afford food all on his own. Even then it would be useless, it was all Chan’s money, anyway. Felix had never had to work and had thrown himself into trying to become the best artist and designer possible as soon as he was old enough to understand what his dad did for a living. He had never wanted to simply leech off of Chan and be useless—he wanted to earn his place at his father’s side. Or, as much as Felix could in the position he was in. 

He tried not to think too much about Chan looking over his drawings as Felix selected a couple different styles of chicken and some of their favorite sides. He put his dad’s card information through and set the phone aside on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

A bubble of anxiety worked its way up through Felix’s esophagus from where it had been sitting in his stomach all day as he watched his father look at his sketches. They weren’t as good as he probably could have gotten them, but hopefully they were enough to be the start of something better. 

Felix pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on one knee, breathing out a soft sigh. He tried not to think about his father looking over his work as he had done so many times, critiquing it in his mind before telling Felix all of the problems it surely had. There was always something wrong with his drawings, no matter how hard Felix worked on them—always something to be improved on. 

Chan took his blessed time looking over the sketches and Felix tried to tune out the rustling back and forth of the pages as they were turned. He normally took a while to look over Felix’s work, but this time, he seemed to take extra care to check everything thoroughly. And that either meant the best news of Felix’s life or the worst. 

Minutes and minutes passed with not a peep from Chan and Felix was beginning to get antsy. He didn’t know what was taking so long—it was a lot of time, even for Chan’s standards. 

“What do you think?” Felix asked, hesitant to hear the answer. He loved his dad, but sometimes Chan could be a little blunt when giving critiques.

Chan hummed, not taking his eyes off the page filled with a sketch of himself lounging on the chair. That was the drawing Felix was most proud of out of the two, it felt leagues better than anything he had drawn before, including the initial drawing of Chan standing. 

“It’s not terrible. It could use some work, the shading is a little odd in some places, but it’s not bad. Definitely more cohesive than anything you’ve drawn before,” Chan replied, still staring at the page like it might come to life if he looked at it hard enough. 

That was… better than Felix had been expecting. He knew he had lots of room to improve but not hearing Chan tell him it sucked made Felix’s entire day. Suddenly, the whole point of the project made sense again, of course it had helped. Felix wished he had thought of it sooner. 

If he had, then he could have gotten even better faster and finally succeeded in making his dad proud. But he had only thought of it last week in a fit of desperation. No matter when he had thought of his plan to make himself better, Felix would take any kind of praise from his dad that he could get, especially when it came to his art. 

“You mean it?” Felix scooted closer to look over Chan’s shoulder at the drawing he had created. It wasn’t terrible, not really, and he could see some places where his hand had shook as he drew, but it certainly wasn’t the best he could have done, either. 

“I do,” Chan answered with a short nod. “This is the most progress you’ve made… ever. You’re doing well with it, Lix.”

Felix’s heart surged with warmth at the praise, starting in his chest and lighting up his insides from the tips of his toes to the very top of his head. He couldn’t help the tiny smile that worked its way across his face, his ears heating up—one of the traits he had gotten from his dad. And he especially couldn’t help the tiny giggle that escaped him, either. 

He knew his dad loved him, but it had been so long since Chan had given him anything close to a compliment on his drawings that Felix felt like he was a kid all over again. All at once, he was back to being seven and drawing vaguely human-like pictures with clothes that looked slightly scribbled on that made his dad smile as he hung them up on the fridge. Chan would tell Felix he had the makings of a great artist and give him a hug and a kiss on the forehead. 

Those kind words and warm hugs grew colder and more distant when Felix got older and the quality of his art stayed nearly the same. 

To finally have anything close to that validation again made Felix feel nothing short of wonderful. It made him feel like maybe his dream was within grasp, that if he worked hard enough, he might finally make his father proud, the way Felix always tried to. 

“Thank you.” Felix’s voice came out the tiniest bit squeaky as he tried to force away the growing smile on his face and the flush spreading across his neck. “I’ll keep working on it and get even better.”

“Seeing the progress you’ve made, I know you will.” Chan gave Felix a smile, dimples deepening on either side of his mouth. 

Without thinking better of it, Felix reached out to press the tip of his finger into one of them, something he hadn’t done since he was a child and thought the little divots on his dad’s face were the coolest thing as he didn’t have any of his own. They were just pretty. Chan was pretty. In a purely objective way, of course. 

For a brief moment, a look of confusion crossed Chan’s face before his smile was deepening, his eyes crinkling into tiny crescents. A shy little giggle tumbled out of his mouth and Felix watched, entranced, until the rational part of his brain kicked in and he pulled his hands away like he had been burned. 

What was that?

Chan looked at Felix again, that wide smile still on his face. “It’s definitely been a while since you’ve done that, little one.”

Felix grinned back sheepishly. His heart did not ratchet up another notch at the use of that name. “Oops?”

“It’s okay, Lix, I don’t mind, really.” Chan handed Felix’s sketchbook back to him and gave him a light pat on the shoulder right as the doorbell rang. “Ah, I’ll get that you go ahead and get that show from last night pulled up, yeah?”

Nodding, Felix hummed in agreement and went about getting the show ready for them to watch while they ate. He couldn’t help the way his eyes darted over to where his dad ambled toward the front door, the hem of his bathrobe swishing around his knees. Knees that were bare, and led to thick, bare thighs that could crush his head with ease, all pointing to his bare-

Felix snapped his eyes forward to focus on the TV in front of him, banishing all thoughts about which parts of Chan were naked and hidden under his robe. 

He was just thinking about it because he had been looking at his dad naked all day and hadn’t eaten anything since the morning. The hunger, compounding with the strange feelings he’d been dealing with all day were causing him to think about staring at his dad naked again. Felix just had to eat something, all the weird emotions and thoughts he was having would go away once he got some food in his stomach. 

The feeling did not, in fact, go away after eating something. 

Felix and Chan shared the food that Felix had ordered and watched another episode of the drama they had begun to watch the day before. While Felix did feel better physically after eating, the hunger pains in his stomach no longer present, the same couldn’t be said for his emotional state. 

During the course of them eating, Chan’s robe had slipped off his shoulder, leaving an expanse of skin that Felix wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into. No matter how hard he tried, Felix couldn’t get the imagery out of his head. 

What was worse was that after finishing eating, Chan got sleepy. It happened sometimes, usually after a long day, when Chan would come home and eat and then get all droopy-eyed as he and Felix watched a movie. Felix knew his dad struggled with insomnia—it was a well-known fact by everyone—so normally, seeing Chan on the verge of falling asleep to the TV was a relief because it meant he would finally rest. 

But now, after the unusual day they’d had, watching Chan get droopier by the minute had Felix’s heart twisting in a number of different ways. Before he gave into any of the intrusive thoughts plaguing his mind, Felix had to give one last attempt at normalcy between them. 

“Normally, you only get this tired after a really long week or a flight,” Felix joked, forcing himself to keep his tone light—even if all he really wanted to do was cry and maybe stare at the wall for some time while he contemplated exactly how he had gotten himself here. “Don’t tell me sitting and standing in one place all day is more difficult than that.”

Chan shook his head and let out a giggle that quickly turned into a large yawn. “It’s more energy consuming than you’d think, little one. Let your old man be a tired old man if he wants.”

Felix chuckled, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. “Okay, whatever you say, old man.”

Chan smiled at him again, his eyes barely halfway open before leaning his head back against the couch and breathing out a deep sigh. 

Only for a second did Felix let himself gaze at his father and let his eyes roam over the perfect slope of his nose and down to the cupid’s bow across his top lip, over the sprinkling of freckles dusting the tops of his cheeks, so light they were barely noticeable unless one was looking for them. That was another trait Felix had inherited from Chan, even if his own freckles were much darker and more prominent. 

And then Felix was tearing his eyes away to look at the TV again, staring but not seeing. As desperately as he tried, Felix couldn’t focus on anything happening in the drama they were in the middle of—not that he had really watched much of it in the first place. It seemed like it would have been pretty interesting, had he been paying attention. He should go back and rewatch it when he had gotten these confusing feelings under wraps. 

Felix kept trying to push away the urges in his mind, ones that told him to tear away his dad’s robe to reveal bare skin underneath and look—and touch—to his heart’s desire. The same feelings that told him that maybe if he had been a better son, taken care of his father in every way, Felix wouldn’t have to try so hard to gain Chan’s approval. 

He was so busy spiraling that Felix didn’t notice Chan falling asleep until suddenly, there was a weight landing on his shoulder. He startled, but not enough to wake Chan, who had unknowingly dropped his head to the side followed shortly by fully slumping against Felix in his sleep. His hair tickled the side of Felix’s neck and Felix could feel the vibrations of the little hum Chan let out as he got comfortable. 

This wasn’t safe for Felix’s poor heart that tangled up and tied into enough knots as it was. Having his father fall asleep and use him as a personal pillow was not solving any of the problems Felix had been facing the past day. Instead, it only served to make them worse. 

His heart already felt like it was on the verge of beating out of his chest, the new development only made his pulse ramp up even more. It was a wonder Chan didn’t wake up from the sound of Felix’s heart pounding at top speed and making Felix feel like a stupid schoolgirl with her first crush. Only he was a man in his early twenties and the crush in question was his own father. 

Felix was disgusting for even thinking like that, for letting himself suggest that possibility for even a single second. 

He was just confused from the long day and crossing a boundary he never should have. He should have just taken the bad mark in his class and waited until one of his friends could help him. At least if it had been one of his friends, Felix wouldn’t have had to deal with any strange, confusing emotions barreling through his insides like an avalanche. 

Felix probably just missed his dad, he hadn’t seen the other much lately and was taking whatever form of attention he could to cope with it. That surely was what it had to be, nothing else. 

There could be no other answer. 

But even as he looked down at Chan, sound asleep on his shoulder and looking objectively gorgeous in a way no one else could, Felix was terrified of what he might discover should he dare to look beneath the surface of his own heart. 

The next day, Felix sat down at his desk to attempt to come up with a design to present for his assignment due in a few short days. He had the perfect idea, but when it came to actually putting pencil to paper, his brain blanked. There was nothing. 

He tried drawing out the idea on another figure that looked only half as good as the one he had drawn the day before, nearly back to the level he had been before the nude modeling fiasco. It was marginally better, but nowhere near where he would need to be to receive an even halfway acceptable mark on his project. Maybe if he just tweaked this spot right there, it would make the sketch a little more… normal looking. 

Felix tried shading in a different spot to no avail. He tried pushing out the shoulders of the drawn person slightly and that only served to make the sketch look worse. 

With a groan, Felix sat back in his desk chair, letting his head thunk against the headrest. He was getting nowhere with this, there would be no way for him to draw something that was good enough for a decent grade with where he was currently. 

Unless… Chan had been naked when Felix actually drew something not terrible. So then maybe if he tried looking at a picture of another nude model, the product wouldn’t be too different from what he had drawn of his dad. 

It took some sifting through porn before Felix finally found a good photo of a model that would be sufficient for him to use as inspiration. The model was pretty, with a body type similar to Hyunjin—tall and lanky, despite the muscle definition on his arms and torso. He seems as good a model as any other, Felix reopened his sketchbook to a new page and set to work. 

Half an hour in and Felix was stuck. Again.

He had sketched out the base shape of the model, but there was still something missing. It just wasn’t right. 

Already Felix could tell the drawing wasn’t going to turn out, but he kept going, pushing himself to try and salvage what he could from the disaster the sketch was turning into. This drawn form was decidedly better than the first one he had drawn, with its uneven legs and mismatched arms, but it still wasn’t close to where Felix was aiming for. 

But by the time the sketch was finished, it was hardly an improvement over the first one of the day. 

Felix’s heart sank in his chest as he compared the two drawings he just completed with the ones from the day prior. There was such a clear difference between them that any hope Felix had of recreating something close was dissipating on the wind. He didn’t know what exactly was different, what had changed from the previous day to now. He had tried using a nude model, just like the afternoon before, and yet even that hadn’t helped his plight. 

There was another option, another answer that was becoming clearer and clearer to Felix the longer he stared at the pages. An answer that added to the mounting anxiety that had been spooling ever tighter in his stomach the more time passed, one that terrified him more than anything else. 

Felix tried to shove it from his mind, to focus on anything else and bury himself in another sketch with a different model. The tip of his pencil scratched across the paper and the sound filled up Felix’s ears, adding to the static swirling in his brain. 

Two, three, four more sketches, all with different models and all not up to the standards Felix had set for himself the day before. 

Not a single one came close to the two drawings he had done of his father in the nude. A fact that had Felix wanting to curl up under his desk and cry from embarrassment. He didn’t know why it was his father of all people that his brain seemed to have latched onto, the person that inspired every talented bone in his body. 

Felix wanted to be sick. 

Maybe he was sick. That could be the only explanation for all the weird things that had been happening since he had first proposed that insane idea that had sent Felix spiraling down into a pit he feared he may never crawl out of. What was worse, there was a tiny part of Felix’s brain that didn’t want to escape the dreaded place his mind was headed. 

Because maybe, possibly, if Felix gave his father everything he needed, he would finally earn Chan’s full approval, even if he never surpassed where he was currently with his artistic talents. 

On the other hand, there was the possibility that if Felix convinced his dad to model for him again, he could finally be rid of the terrible thoughts that fogged up his mind. Exposure therapy had worked for others, so why couldn’t it work for Felix as well?

Although, just to be sure, Felix gave one final attempt at sketching a person, only to discover an hour later that this one, too, was just as much of a disappointment as the first half dozen he had drawn. They weren’t so different from himself, Felix supposed, as they were all great, big disappointments that were incapable of pleasing anyone. He slumped back in his chair, defeated and beaten down by every terrible thought clogging up his mind. 

Just one more drawing, one more afternoon of strange feelings to secure his grade, and with any luck, remove aforementioned strange feelings bogging Felix down. He would draw his father again, get his brain to understand that Chan was simply a person—one he was related to, no less—and then he would be free of every awful urge that had sprung unwanted into his thoughts over the past day. 

It had to work. Felix wasn’t sure what he would do with himself if it didn’t. 

The second time around, Chan was a bit more difficult to convince. But all it had taken for him to fold was Felix batting his eyelashes and reminding his dad of how Chan was the one that had been pushing him to get better at his art. With a sigh, Chan had given in and agreed to spend his last day off standing naked in one of the design rooms to let Felix draw him for his project. 

A sense of relief washed over Felix when Chan acquiesced, the knowledge this would all be over soon soothing his anxiety-riddled heart like a balm. One more day of weirdness and Felix would be able to finally move on from the thoughts that had been plaguing him since he first brought the idea up. 

The day of the second session, Felix was jittery. He had hardly slept all night from the anxiety that was still flooding his system, even if he knew this was what he needed to do to rid himself of the growing urges inside his mind. Every hour that passed and Felix was feeling more and more insane—like he was a mere inconvenience from throwing everything to the wind and giving into the little voice in the back of his mind that told him he knew exactly what he had to do to make Chan proud of him. 

Chan shuffled into the design room at noon—the same as two days before—only this time the dark blue bathrobe that had begun to haunt Felix’s every waking moment was loosely tied around Chan’s waist. It left far more of his chest exposed than Felix had initially expected, even if he knew he was about to stare at his dad’s whole bare body for the next several hours. 

Felix smiled at Chan, trying desperately to ignore the way his heart had already ratcheted up to a concerning rate. “Hey, thank you for helping out again, I know this will be the one that really helps me get where I need to be.”

Chan gave him a smile back, though the circles under his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Felix, nor did the mess of unkempt curls on top of his head. While it wasn’t uncommon for Chan to not sleep well, Felix couldn’t help the brief notion that maybe his dad was feeling similarly to him, dealing with unwanted thoughts and urges that he couldn’t get rid of. That he hadn’t been able to sleep well because he was thinking of Felix, wanting him in a way that Felix couldn’t yet put words to. 

But that couldn’t be true, could it? Chan certainly wasn’t as sick as Felix surely was, right? He must have just had a bad night of sleep and that was why he looked so entirely exhausted. 

“I’m happy to help you, Lix,” Chan answered and went to take his place in the middle of the room after shedding his robe. 

Felix opened his sketchbook to a new page and with a deep breath, began sketching. 

To Felix’s growing horror, he discovered that looking at his dad naked did not get any easier the longer he drew. If anything, Felix only began to feel more fragile as time flew by, thoughts now racing through his head constantly. 

Thoughts that threatened to condemn him if he wasn’t already, that told him he should march over to Chan—relationship be damned—and let his greedy little fingers roam over every inch of exposed golden skin. Ideas that slithered through Felix’s mind of him finally earning his dad’s approval by letting him feed off Felix carnally, let Felix’s own desire be the doom of them both. 

But he would finally have what he craved most in this life—the total and complete pride of his father, rushing over Felix like a cascade of cool water putting out a growing blaze. It was all Felix had ever wanted. 

He was able to tamp down those urges for the time he was drawing, which was a win in his book, even if it was just barely. Felix was able to sketch out a couple different designs he would be able to present to his class in a couple of days, the drawings finally good enough that he would earn a decent grade from them—another step toward his ultimate goal. 

By the time Felix was finished with his second drawing, Chan was beginning to droop from the stance he had taken earlier in the afternoon, shoulders sagging slightly and blinks coming slower. 

Felix stood from where he was sitting and wandered over to Chan. “You look like you’re going to fall asleep on your feet, Dad.”

As if on cue, Chan let out a large yawn and rolled his shoulders once before stretching. “Just a little tired, is all. Did you get what you needed for your class?”

“I did,” Felix answered. “I can show you later if you need to nap for a bit.”

Chan gave Felix a wry look as he picked up his robe, slinging it around his shoulders and tying a knot around the middle. “If I tried to sleep now, I don’t think I’d sleep for another two days.”

Felix nodded and let his dad lead the way out of the design room and back downstairs. It seemed like another repeat of what happened after the last session was in order for tonight, too. Felix couldn’t decide if he was excited or terrified. 

“I just wanted to offer, you seem pretty tired,” he said, feet thunking under him as he walked down the steps behind Chan. The sound was nearly enough to drown out the sound of Felix’s own heart giving a valiant attempt to beat out of his chest and Felix was nearly positive he was going to keel right over one of these days if he didn’t get his emotions under control. 

Chan shrugged. “It’s all a ruse from my own body to lull me into a false sense of security and then keep me awake for another day.”

“Oh…” Felix trailed off, wholly unsure of where he should go from there. Before, his dad’s sleeping problems always went unspoken of—obviously there, but never addressed so bluntly. 

Of course, there was an answer, one that Felix figured he could probably coax out of Chan with a minimal amount of effort. It shouldn’t be too difficult for him to pull off, get some food in Chan’s stomach and then keep him in front of the television until he eventually passed out next to Felix, just like he had a couple days ago. 

The little voice in Felix’s mind reminded him that last time, Chan had fallen asleep half on top of him, not simply next to him. Felix tried to shove the voice out of his mind and stop those unbidden thoughts from sticking to him like glue, making it impossible for him to pull himself out of the hole he had tripped into. 

“Do you want to order in again?” Felix asked, feeling like the safest thing to do was to switch to a topic he knew how to handle a bit better. 

“We can do that, pick whatever you like,” Chan replied, plopping onto the couch and Felix dropping down beside him. He passed his phone over while Felix handed his dad his sketchbook, an act that felt so normal, yet so foreign all at the same time. 

Felix ordered a few different foods from another restaurant down the street, Chan humming next to him while he looked through the sketches Felix created that afternoon. He set the phone down beside him and watched Chan silently grade Felix’s drawings in his mind. 

There would never be a whisper of admittance outside of his own brain, but his father truly was objectively pretty—gorgeous, even. Kind brown eyes that led to a sloping nose and full lips that looked so unbearably soft. That light smattering of freckles that Felix wanted nothing more than to stare at and spend all his hours counting until he had mapped out every single one in the constellation that made up Chan.

He could imagine a different reality where he did just that, in between bouts of lazily making out and fucking the afternoon away. Eventually they would fall asleep together, their limbs tangled so tightly that it would be futile to try and determine where one of them began and the other ended. 

How terribly far Felix had fallen in such a meager amount of time. 

He didn’t have the faintest clue what he should do with all these awful thoughts. It wasn’t like Felix could do anything with his thoughts, not really. Chan would be disgusted if he knew how his own son was thinking of him—imagining another universe where they could kiss freely, without the tie of familial relation in the way. 

These would just be thoughts that Felix would be stuck with until he could find some way to rid himself of them. Even then, Felix wasn’t sure he would ever truly be free. There would always be a lingering in the back of his mind that whispered ‘What if’ and tortured him to his very soul. 

“These look significantly better than anything you’ve done before, Lix.” Chan’s voice pulled Felix out of his spiral and back onto solid ground. 

Felix jolted ever so slightly, a surprised look crossing his face. “They’re even better than the ones I drew a couple days ago?”

He knew they were, they were by far the best pieces Felix had ever created, but he needed to hear it come from Chan’s mouth—craved that validation like air. It was a reminder of why he had gotten himself into this in the first place. 

“They are,” Chan answered with a smile and nod. “These designs are really something, too, I know you’ll get a good grade on them.”

As much as he tried, it was nearly impossible for Felix to smother the rising warmth in his chest and the smile that quickly covered his face. That feeling of being a schoolgirl with a crush had increased tenfold, leaving Felix sounding the tiniest bit shy as he said, “Thanks, I’m really happy to hear that.”

“Of course.” Chan leaned over to ruffle Felix’s hair lightly before passing his sketchbook back. “But let’s hope that from now on, you won’t need me to stand undressed every time you need to design something, yeah?”

Felix hated how much he wished that he could be allowed to stare at his father in the nude whenever he wanted and not have it be limited to these two isolated events. But he couldn’t say that, so Felix just laughed and hoped it didn’t sound too very strained when he answered, “I think that time was enough to do it for me.”

It was more than enough to doom Felix to a life of the worst, most abominable type of yearning a person could experience. What he had hoped would be the catalyst to sending him back to normal had instead ended up being the final push to his ultimate undoing. 

Chan gave no further answer aside from a chuckle and let silence fall between them. Felix busied himself getting the TV set up with the drama they had been watching over the past few days, pressing play and letting the noise drown out the quiet. 

Some time later, the doorbell rang and Chan wordlessly pushed himself up off the couch to retrieve their food.

As he had been developing a terrible habit for, Felix found his eyes lingering on his father’s retreating form and his mouth beginning to water. Felix tried to tell himself it was simply because he was hungry and there was no other reason for it, even if the truth was more glaring than the setting sun outside. 

Chan brought the food back and Felix scrambled for the remote to pause the drama they were watching in a desperate attempt to appear as though he hadn’t been shamelessly ogling his dad. He lounged back on the sofa and smiled widely when Chan held up the two plastic bags of takeout food. 

“Food’s here!” Chan announced, despite the fact that the bags in each hand needed no introduction. He waddled back to where he had been seated previously and set the bags down on the low coffee table before sitting down again. 

Felix leaned forward to untie the handles on the plastic bag closest to him, divvying up the little containers between Chan and himself. “These should all be yours.”

“Thank you, Lix.” Chan smiled at Felix again and Felix could have sworn the room got just a small bit brighter. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just eat up, old man,” Felix quipped in a joking tone, looking down in hopes to hide the loathsome blush making its way back across his face. 

They ate in peace, the drama serving as a pleasant noise and a much needed distraction for Felix’s problem at hand. It was very nearly enough for him to forget about the warm press of Chan’s knee into his own, the way his elbow would occasionally brush against the soft fabric of Chan’s robe. 

And when they had both eaten their fill, the leftovers put away for another day, Felix sat waiting, patiently hoping that there might be a repeat of the incident from two days prior. The odds seemed to be in favor of that happening with Chan sitting beside him in that blasted robe that was nearly falling off one shoulder and looking as though he were mere moments from falling right to sleep. 

How pathetic was Felix? Sitting there in silence, almost holding his breath at the thought that his own father might use him for a pillow once again. 

But if it meant he got to bask in Chan’s touch—however unintentional it was—and ensure the man got at least some rest, Felix would do that a thousand times over. So he sat there, and he waited. And waited. 

Until finally, the weight of Chan’s head lolled onto Felix’s shoulder and Felix very nearly felt his heart shoot straight out of his chest and over the fucking moon. He had gotten what he wanted, for Chan to rest, and to be close to his dad in a way he hadn’t been in a very long time. 

Cuddling wasn’t a usual thing between them, even though Felix was the biggest believer in the power of physical touch and adored cuddling his friends—especially the ones that pretended to hate it. But cuddling his father was something that had lessened around puberty and halted altogether when Felix became a full adult. Felix felt like maybe, possibly, if he had still been allowed to cuddle Chan freely all through the years, then he wouldn’t be in the terrible predicament in which he found himself now. 

Maybe the answer was just that he had to be in closer contact with his father for a while, that he was touch-starved and if he found ways to cuddle Chan more, the awful thoughts might finally leave him be. 

There was also the possibility that it might just make things worse, the way drawing Chan a second time had seemed to do. But it was a risk Felix was willing to take to heal his relationship with his father and get rid of the thoughts swirling in his mind. Anything was better than this limbo Felix found himself hanging in, of wanting something so desperately while also wanting nothing more than for that same desire to be gone. 

Felix turned his head slightly to look at Chan—and conveniently right down the front of his dad’s robe. His eyes roved over the bare skin that Felix wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into—mark the pristine surface in pretty bruises that would serve as reminders of how good Felix could be and the primal claim he staked over his own father. It was barbaric and backwards, yet that didn’t stop Felix from wanting it all the same. 

That was the problem with him, he always wanted too much and never knew when to let go. Felix wasn’t sure he even knew how to let go, not with something this big. 

He let himself gaze at Chan for a while more before wrenching his eyes away and forcing them back to the television screen, even though there was no way Felix could concentrate with the position he was in. But he tried, never let it be said that he didn’t try. 

With his dad’s weight leaning against him, Felix sat there, unmoving, for long enough that the episode of the drama he was watching ended and so did the episode after that. It was long enough for his knees to begin to hurt, the shoulder Chan was leaning on starting to ache. Felix didn’t mind, though. He never minded if it was Chan. 

Anything to earn his dad’s approval and stay in the warm light of his gaze. 

The next week went as normally as it could with Felix on the verge of spiraling out of control and doing something he would undoubtedly regret. Chan went back to work Monday morning. Tuesday passed and Felix handed in the drawings he had done of Chan over the weekend. He finally felt confident about one of the projects he was handing in for that class—a lovely experience that Felix had never had before.

All the while, Felix was trying to get closer to Chan and finding excuses to be closer to him in a pathetic attempt to fix whatever had gone awry that day the week before. Chan hadn’t said anything about the shift in behavior, which made Felix happy to know he was being subtle enough that his plan had so far gone unnoticed. 

So far, it hadn’t helped clear out those thoughts that Felix wanted so desperately to get rid of. In fact, it seemed only to make them the slightest bit worse. Every time he was close to Chan, Felix’s weak heart begged him to get closer—to feel up his father in a way he should never have wanted, to let himself be used however Chan pleased, so long as he told Felix he was loved afterward. More than ever before, Felix had the unquenchable urge to crawl inside Chan’s skin and live there, forever bound together in the most visceral way possible. 

Felix started trying to cook more so Chan would have meals to look forward to when he came home after a long day at work, always nicely presented on a plate or in a bowl and waiting to be popped in the microwave. 

Chan always thanked Felix afterward, whether it was in person or through sending a text with a little smiley face at the end. He struggled not to let it go to his head, but every time Felix received any sort of praise for his hard work, his heart rate would skyrocket, a blush covering his cheeks. 

That Thursday, Chan had made it to their movie night, and although he hadn’t fallen asleep on Felix again—to Felix’s shameful disappointment—it was still an opportunity to get closer. Felix had been the one to initiate any sort of closeness between them, feigning exhaustion and stretching out like a cat before resting his head on Chan’s shoulder. Chan hadn’t said anything and silently leaned his own head against Felix’s. 

As much as Felix tried, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that ran rampant through his brain of Chan taking care of him—continuing to take care of him the way he had since Felix was a child. He was surprised Chan couldn’t hear the way Felix’s heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings, but he was happy that his dad never said a thing about it if he did notice anything. 

It was now the weekend again and Felix was still stuck with those terrible notions of his dad. He figured that it might have been because he wasn’t doing enough, that a couple sparse hugs and spending an evening with his head on Chan’s shoulder wouldn’t be what was needed to cure him. If Felix wanted to salvage any normalcy in their relationship, he would have to up the ante just a bit. And just until the little voice in his head left him alone. 

A week and a half after Felix had first changed how he viewed his father, he decided what the next step in his plan would be. It was a Saturday night and Felix was in bed after a long day of working on another project for one of his other college classes so he wouldn’t have to worry about it in the upcoming week. 

Chan had been out all day at an event, but had finally returned home just as Felix was heading off to bed. Felix reminded his dad to eat and then get some rest, to which Chan had agreed with a smile and nod and promise to do just that. 

Two hours had passed since then and Felix was no closer to sleep than he was when he first laid down. He tossed and turned, constantly thinking about ways to make his predicament better, and never getting any closer to sleep. 

Until finally, it hit him.

All at once, Felix was throwing the covers off his body and pushing himself to his feet. It took only a moment to drum up some tears, his eyes already red from the bad sleep he’d been having over the past week. It may have been years and years since Felix had climbed into bed with his father after a bad dream, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do it again, especially in the name of freeing himself from the torture of the past week. 

As quietly as he could, Felix tiptoed out of his room and down the hallway to the master bedroom where Chan was. He pushed the door open and slipped inside, padding across the carpet until he was beside Chan’s bed, looking over his father’s sleeping form. It was a surprise to see him already asleep, even though it was well after midnight by this point, but Felix was happy to see the sight. 

Carefully, he pushed the covers to the side and climbed under them, sniffling a little when Chan stirred slightly. 

“Lix?” His dad’s voice was quiet, thick with sleep and laced with confusion. 

Felix sniffled again and scooted closer to Chan, keeping his own voice low as he said, “Had a bad dream. Can- can I stay?”

For the briefest of moments, fear shot through Felix’s mind at the idea that Chan might kick him out to sleep in his own room. Felix was an adult and shouldn’t be looking to his father for comfort like he did when he was still a child. But this was Chan, no matter how hard he had pushed Felix with his art, he still loved Felix at the end of the day and would fold for a few well-timed tears. 

Chan gave a sleepy smile and opened an arm for Felix to scoot under. “Of course you can, little one. Stay as long as you need.”

Felix curled into his dad’s embrace, letting himself be folded up into Chan’s arms and held close. He breathed out a soft sigh and tucked his head under Chan’s chin. The weight of his dad’s arms covering Felix, holding him together without so much as a question did wonders for Felix’s mind. Of course, it also sent his heart flip flopping every which way and made him want to dart his tongue out to lap at the patch of skin that Felix’s lips were pressed against. 

It calmed the part of Felix’s brain that was afraid that Chan might abandon him, even if his dad did find out about the gross parts of Felix that he was trying so hard to keep at bay. Chan might have been hard on him about his art, but really, he wouldn’t toss Felix aside, would he? Even if Felix’s new and confusing feelings did come to light at some point, they would get through it together. Chan was the parent that stayed, and that wouldn’t change for anything. 

Felix got comfortable in Chan’s embrace, wriggling as close as he could and sniffling once more. Finally, it felt like sleep would come easily for Felix, his father covering him like the best weighted blanket imaginable and keeping Felix warmer than the blankets in his own bed ever could. 

As Felix drifted off to sleep, the last thing he felt was the faint sensation of Chan’s lips pressing against the top of his head. 

When Felix awoke next, it was still dark outside. He must have been asleep for only a few hours for the sky to only be just beginning to lighten as it was. 

Blinking a couple times, Felix brought an arm up to rub at his eyes when he realized there was a weight around his middle, keeping him from moving anything more than his arm. Following that realization was the secondary realization of a warm chest pressed firmly against his back, warming Felix through completely. Chan was still asleep behind him, it seemed. 

Felix breathed out a sigh of contentment, the feeling of his dad so close to him making his mind race and yet his thoughts felt strangely empty. The only thing Felix could focus on was every inch where Chan’s bare skin met his—only the thin fabric of Felix’s pajama shirt separating them—and the way he could feel every inhale his father took, each puff of breath on his neck when he exhaled. 

For a few moments, Felix simply basked in Chan’s presence, in the feeling his heart was becoming more and more greedy for by the day. The notions inside his head hadn’t stopped over the past week of having more physical touch, but maybe after tonight, when the morning came and they separated, Felix could finally put this all to rest. 

Behind him, Chan shifted his hips and-

Oh.

The feeling of Chan’s cock pressing into Felix’s ass, unmistakably hard and insistent, made Felix go completely still. His brain stumbled over the realization as his mind attempted to catch up to what was happening. 

Felix knew it wasn’t unusual for men to get hard while sleeping—he’d had enough experience with it himself—but he surely hadn’t expected it to happen while snuggled up with his father. Though, to the sick part of his brain that had become only louder the past days, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. He’d be hard pressed to admit it, but Felix figured there’d been some side of him that had been curious of Chan’s size. That curiosity had only truly come to light that first fateful day when Felix drew him naked. 

A shiver ran down Felix’s spine when he realized just how large Chan was. Felix was admittedly a bit of a size queen, the collection of various dildos and plugs hidden away in his closet was proof of that. If he wasn’t Chan’s son, Felix would have loved to spend all his time on his knees for Chan or bouncing away on that huge cock like his life depended on it. He knew it would take some work to make it fit, but Felix was nothing if not determined. 

As it was, he was stuck with all these torrid thoughts in his mind and no way to get rid of them. Sure, there was one solution, but that was one Felix didn’t want to think of—it was the one he could never live out, no matter how much he was starting to want it. 

Chan shifted again in his sleep, his cock rutting between Felix’s clothed ass cheeks and causing Felix to let out a shaky breath. In a matter of moments, his own cock had stiffened up completely, straining against the fabric of the sleep shorts he was wearing. 

Entirely unable to help himself and feeling the tiniest bit insane, Felix pushed his hips back ever so slightly against Chan. Behind him, Chan breathed out a soft moan, the sound wriggling right into Felix’s brain and embedding itself there as the single most attractive thing he had ever heard. It took everything inside Felix not to roll them both over and finger himself open so he could ride Chan until his thighs shook. 

But he didn’t and stayed right where he was, save for the tiny movements of his hips rolling back into Chan’s. 

Felix was so disgusted with himself. This was his father he was grinding against like a desperate slut. Yet still, even as shame rolled in his stomach, at war with the growing arousal also simmering there, Felix couldn’t stop himself from continuously pushing his hips to meet Chan’s. 

Chan let out another noise, one akin to a whimper, and Felix had to hold in one of his own. He was feeling more insane by the moment, the sensation of Chan’s thick cock pressing into his ass feeling so treacherous while also being something Felix never wanted to be without again. 

By this point, all semblance of reason had disappeared from Felix’s brain, the only thoughts in his head being of Chan’s cock. Slowly, Felix moved his hand, fingers dipping down under the waistband of his pajama shorts. He tentatively wrapped his hand around his own length, suddenly all too aware of just how small he was compared to his father. 

The glide was dry at first but was quickly aided by the amount of precum leaking from his tip and Felix was nearly embarrassed with how wet he had gotten in such a short amount of time. He bit back a soft moan the next time Chan slowly rutted his hips forward and gripped his cock just a little tighter. 

Felix carefully fell into something of a rhythm, pushing his hips back into Chan’s and then fucking forward into his fist. He felt more than slightly insane, on the verge of hysterical with his heart only seconds away from beating out of his chest. The same itch from before pulled at him, burrowing deep into his skin and making Felix shiver from head to toe. 

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, there was no way it was real, Felix must have been dreaming. But then Chan let out a breathy sigh against the back of Felix’s neck and the world shot into crystal clear view again. There was no way Felix could dream this, not at all. 

Felix screwed his eyes shut, feeling the beginnings of his orgasm already starting to creep up on him. He had never been so quick to an orgasm since he was a teenager first discovering how to masturbate, but there was no denying the hold Chan had over him. 

Thoughts filled Felix’s head, images of both him and his father naked, Chan on top of Felix and pounding into his hole relentlessly. He would let Chan take him however he wanted—from behind, with Felix on his back or side, any which way he could think of. Chan could do anything under the sun to him and Felix would take happily, then greedily beg for more. 

In no time at all, Felix was letting out a strangled whimper as he came into his trembling hand, painting the insides of his underwear white. His lungs were tight, Felix couldn’t seem to get enough air no matter how much he gulped while stars burst behind his eyelids that he had screwed shut. 

Somewhere in his staticky ears, Felix heard the echoes of another soft groan, felt Chan’s hips go still against his ass. It was somehow the best and worst thing Felix had ever experienced. The best because he had never felt this good after any orgasm he’d ever had. And the worst because he knew it meant he wouldn’t be curing himself of that sickness in his brain anytime soon. 

For better or worse, Chan had cemented himself front and center in every possible area of Felix’s mind. 

Carefully, Felix peeled himself away from Chan and scurried down the hallway to the bathroom conjoined with his own room to wash away the evidence of what had just happened. Though no matter how hard he scrubbed away at his skin, there was no washing away of the memories of what he had done. 

Felix still wasn’t sure what this all meant—sure, he was attracted to his dad in some weird way, but he didn’t know how deep any of these new feelings went. He could continue to hope he would wake up healed and normal once again, but that hope was dwindling rapidly. If Felix wanted to move forward toward any sort of normalcy—no matter what form that may take—he would have to do some deep digging into his own feelings and decide where to go from there. 

It didn’t stop him from climbing back into bed with Chan again as soon as he was cleaned up from his previous mess. 

The moment Felix was lying down again, his dad reached out for him in his sleep. Chan was still conked out, but gathered Felix into his arms once more, as if that was where he had always belonged. And Felix went willingly—happily—and curled into Chan, making himself as small as he could. 

As he fell asleep, Felix wondered if maybe this was where he was truly meant to be all along. 

The next morning, the sun rose, and so did the consequences of what had happened under the cover of night. 

Felix woke up to an empty bed, Chan’s side of the mattress betraying how long he had been gone by how cold it was. With a sigh, Felix rubbed a hand over his face, preparing to face whatever might be waiting for him when he finally pulled himself out of bed. 

For a second longer than he probably should have, Felix just stayed curled under his father’s cozy blankets, inhaling the gentle scent of their detergent and Chan’s perfume and the undertones that were just Chan. It was a terrible thing to think, but Felix couldn’t think of a single thing that smelled better—even the smell of cookies in the oven paled in comparison. 

Felix forced himself to get up a couple minutes later, dragging his feet to his room to clean himself up and brush his teeth, unable to look at himself in the mirror. 

He really had behaved reprehensibly, hadn’t he? Felix couldn’t believe he had done what he did the night before. Especially with his dad sound asleep behind him, it was a terrible breach of boundaries. 

Shame roiled under Felix’s skin, burning his cheeks a bright red. As much as he was realizing that he may have wanted it to happen, that didn’t mean that he should’ve just worked his hips against Chan until they both came. Felix just couldn’t help it, it had felt so good, just the little bit of contact was better than most of the other people he had slept with and he knew that if he ever had sex with Chan, it would be even more mind blowing. 

And that realization was what scared Felix the most. The fact that nobody could compare to his father in any way. 

Felix didn’t know what to do with this revelation. Sure, he’d been working toward it for a bit of time, but it had happened so fast. Two weeks ago, Felix was just wanting to make his father proud for entirely familial reasons and wanting to spend a little more time with him. 

So what if he had spent some time thinking about Chan’s body and how he would be the perfect model for his drawings? It didn’t mean anything, not really. Didn’t all children have a moment where they wondered what their parents look like naked?

Even as the thought ran through his head, Felix already knew the answer was a resounding no. It was not a normal thought to have about one’s parent, no matter what their relationship was. 

That opened up a whole other trail of thoughts about why was Felix having these thoughts and how long they had been truly going on for. How long had it been that he had been having less than familial thoughts about his father? 

That was not a path Felix wanted to go down just yet, he wasn’t sure what he would find if he did—was terrified of it, actually. It was something to explore at a later date when Felix didn’t feel like he was on the verge of a breakdown and had some time to devote to the breakdown that would undoubtedly happen as soon as he put any thought to his recent revelations. 

After enough time of delaying the inevitable, Felix straightened his shoulders and marched out of the bathroom. He was determined to act as normal as possible, he had no reason to behave like anything had changed. Chan didn’t know that Felix knew about what had happened last night and therefore, Felix would be putting on his best clueless act. 

Heading downstairs, Felix found Chan in the kitchen, that damned blue bathrobe hanging around his shoulders and fuzzy slippers on his feet while he turned over pancakes in the skillet. Chan hadn’t noticed Felix creeping into the kitchen and was softly humming to himself, a tune Felix couldn’t quite place but loved the sound of anyway. 

He hadn’t heard his father sing in so long, and even though it was a far cry from the lullabies Chan used to sing to him when he was a child, it didn’t stop Felix’s heart from clenching inside his chest. The scene before him was so domestic that Felix wanted to cry. 

In another life, he could see himself sliding up behind Chan and wrapping his arms around him, resting his head on Chan’s broad shoulder while he made up the last of the pancake batter. Felix could see himself placing a kiss on the back of Chan’s neck and hearing that high-pitched, squeaky giggle that he let out whoever he was embarrassed. Faster than light, images of a lazy morning with just the two of them, sharing pancakes and syrup-sweet kisses with no rush to be anywhere flashed through his mind.

The feeling came over him so quickly that Felix took a step back, shaking his head to clear it out before stepping back into the kitchen and announcing his presence. 

“Morning, Dad,” Felix said, barely keeping his voice from wobbling the way it wanted to so badly. 

Chan startled slightly, turning toward him while keeping one hand on the handle of the pan. He gave Felix a smile, though it was painfully easy for anyone to see how the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Morning, Lix. It’s Sunday, so I thought we could have pancakes?”

Felix hummed in acknowledgment and nodded. “That’s fine with me. I’ll get the plates and syrup out for us.”

Even though there was no way for Chan to know that Felix knew what happened between them, that didn’t stop things from being just this side of painfully awkward. Felix would have to do better to prevent everything from devolving into a bigger mess than it already was, there was no way he could let this spiral out of control. If he did, Felix wasn’t sure if he would have any hope of ever getting back to a semblance of normalcy. 

Until he figured out what exactly he thought about Chan and what any sort of new normal might look like on them, Felix couldn’t risk anything changing between them. At least, no more than the monumental shift of the past week and a half. 

Felix set out two plates and retrieved the bottle of syrup from the fridge, pouring some into a tiny pitcher and popping it in the microwave to heat up. By the time the microwave beeped, Chan was transferring the last pancake to one large serving plate for both of them to take pancakes from. 

Silently, they sat down side by side at the kitchen island, wordlessly picking pancakes to put on their plates. 

After the quiet lasted for far too long, Chan finally spoke up, his voice the tiniest bit strained. “How’d you sleep?”

Felix shrugged slightly, not taking his eyes off his plate as he answered, “Good, after I came to sleep with you. That dream last night really freaked me out.“ 

From the corner of his eye, Felix could see Chan slowly nod once, then twice, and shove another bite of pancake in his mouth. Silence prevailed between them yet again, the only noises to be heard were those of their forks clinking against the ceramic plates. 

“Glad I could help,” Chan murmured quietly after another minute. 

“Thank you,” Felix said, keeping his voice light and turning to give Chan a smile. He had to keep acting like everything was normal, like it wasn’t odd for a twenty-two year old to climb into bed with his father after a bad dream, like it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Felix to want to never sleep on his own again. 

Chan looked back at him, managing a half smile that was dropped less than a second later. “Anything for my Lix, yeah?”

Without waiting for a response, Chan was pushing himself out of his seat and emptying the last couple bites on his plate into the trash before dumping the dish in the sink. “I have some things for work I have to do today, so I’ll probably be a little busy. Let me know if you need anything.”

“O-Oh, okay,” Felix stuttered out. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Chan would want to hide away from him after what had gone down the night before, but Felix couldn’t deny the tiny pang in his heart at the thought of Chan avoiding him. 

Above all, Felix didn’t want to let them become the pair that tiptoed around each other, talking, but never saying what they truly meant. He couldn’t take that, no matter what feelings were hidden in his heart for his father, Felix couldn’t bear the thought of not having his dad to fall back on at the end of the day. Things hadn’t always been the easiest between them, but Felix would take the sting of Chan pushing him to be better than whatever pit they were on the edge of falling into. 

He didn’t know how exactly he would go about fixing things between them and easing his father’s mind that what he had accidentally done the night before wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest. Felix had to try, he wouldn’t willingly sit by and let his relationship with Chan go to waste. There had to be a way to fix things and as much as Felix hated the idea of it, he figured it might have to start by having an uncomfortable conversation with himself. 

While Chan was hiding away in one of the design rooms in the house, Felix headed back up to his bedroom, bundling himself under his blankets so he could think. 

It had been three hours and Felix couldn’t bring himself to do it. Three hours of hiding under his covers like a scared child and getting no closer to figuring out how he should make things better—if he even could make them better at this point. 

The answer that he knew was looming over his head like a thundercloud waiting to strike lightning down on him was too scary, far too real for Felix to think about acknowledging. He just couldn’t do it. There was too much for him to lose by admitting it to himself. 

Admittance was the first step, one that Felix couldn’t take, no matter how much his feelings tried to convince him otherwise. There was the possibility everything could work out if he did so, but Felix just couldn’t take that risk. It had been enough that he had stared at his father naked for hours—even if it had been part of an assignment—and it had been even worse grinding against his father to completion the night before. Felix couldn’t risk ruining things between them even more because the tiny voice in his head told him to. 

Maybe Chan was right in separating himself from Felix. Maybe separation was the answer in this case—the answer to finally fixing himself and the mind sickness that had washed over him in the past few weeks. 

If he got enough distance, then maybe things would go back to normal and Felix wouldn’t crave Chan’s attention and love like a drug. He could finally be a normal son that would make his father proud. It really was all Felix wanted. 

So, he stayed there, under his blankets for the rest of the day, mindlessly watching videos on his phone. Acted like he didn’t want to be with his dad, draped over him while he watched Chan draw up new designs and pin together pieces of fabric to make something beautiful. Pretended like the thought of them drifting even farther apart didn’t cause a stabbing pain right in the middle of his heart. 

Felix had loved to watch Chan work when he was younger. He would sit there in one of their design rooms and watch as Chan took a piece of paper and some pencils and a few scraps of fabric and somehow managed to turn them all into something beautiful. He used to think his father had some sort of superpower for making things look pretty with how spectacular all of his designs seemed to come out. 

Even the ones that weren’t as good still seemed amazing to Felix. How could they not when Chan was the one making them?

How distant those days seemed now, how far removed from the awkwardness and stilted conversations that had prevailed over the last week and a half. But it had started long before then, when Felix got older and yet his drawings never got better. When Chan started pushing him harder and harder to get better, to keep working until it finally clicked for him. 

Chan was still a loving parent, gave Felix everything he could ever ask for and more, but he was just a little less hands on. Left Felix to his own devices more often and told him it would make him a good adult, that Felix would never get anywhere if Chan was always holding his hand. 

Felix didn’t mind the hand holding. He never had, he had always thrived under his dad’s praise like a flower blooming up toward the sun. When that praise lessened, Felix kept reaching out toward it, always striving for something that seemed just out of reach. 

He’d had a chance to finally earn back that love and praise he so craved, and had squandered it because he didn’t know how to shut off the awful voices in his head. All Felix had to do was simply be normal about everything, not let his strange feelings or attractions get in the way and he would finally get what he had been running after for so long. 

But he couldn’t even do that, and instead had made things so much worse. 

Felix would stay away if that’s what Chan wanted, wouldn’t bother him and just mind his own business. He would find a way to fix himself in the meantime so that when Chan decided to let Felix back in, Felix wouldn’t ruin their relationship for good. 

Felix had already grown up without a mother, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing his father, too. 

The next week moved along slowly. Painfully so. 

Felix hardly saw Chan, save for the couple times where their paths crossed when one was coming in and the other was leaving. Even then, it wasn’t like their interactions consisted of much more than an awkward hello and an inquiry about each other's day. Aside from those few times, they stayed out of each other’s way, spinning in completely different orbits. 

It was painful always having to see his father, and yet never being able to do any of the myriad of things that ran through Felix’s mind at all times. The thoughts hadn’t lessened, and instead seemed to grow more potent the more time passed. Thoughts of running up to Chan and flinging his arms around him, pulling him in close and pressing their lips together were forever tormenting Felix. 

He threw himself into his schoolwork, constantly pushing himself to get better, higher grades in the hopes that he might forget about all the problems hiding in the recesses of his mind. As a senior, his classes weren’t terribly difficult, but Felix put everything he had into the classes that he did have. Anything to keep his brain occupied and his thoughts away from Chan. 

Felix had always been a good student, but now he was working with a vigor he never had before. He was running with his heels on fire, terrified that if he slipped for even a second, the flames might consume him whole. 

The nights were always the worst. 

Felix wasn’t able to escape by working on another assignment and just had to sit in the dark with all of his thoughts weighing him down like a ball and chain. He tried everything—sleep meds, stretching and deep breathing and tea before bed—but nothing worked to clear his mind enough to let him fall asleep without lying there for hours first. 

Sometimes, he would attempt masturbating to help him sleep, it had worked in the past. But now, when Felix tried it, it did nothing except leave him feeling frustrated and guilty. As hard as he tried, Felix wasn’t ever able to clear away the images his brain so unhelpfully supplied of Chan standing before him in all of his terrible, naked beauty. He was supposed to be clearing his mind of any lewd notions of his father, not getting off to them and making everything so much worse. 

More than once, Felix came into his hand or a wad of tissues to the thought of his dad and broke down crying moments later, so ashamed and so disgusted with himself. What was wrong with him, why couldn’t he just kick this deplorable habit he seemed to have formed overnight?

The treacherous little voice in his head whispered that it was okay, that he should keep going—that if Felix had taken that final step into full debauchery, he wouldn’t have to strive so hard for Chan’s approval anymore. He would be a good son if he took perfect care of Chan and gave him all the pleasure he could want. 

Felix cried the most on the nights when that awful voice was the loudest. 

What was worst of all, he found himself considering it for brief moments at a time. Felix had never been this distant with his father ever, and he missed Chan so desperately it felt like his heart might cannibalize itself just to have the strength to keep beating. 

He wanted things back the way they were before, when it was easy. Because even when things were tough and Felix wanted to cry from how much he wanted his father’s approval, it was still easy. It was always easy with Chan. Even when he pushed Felix about his art nearly to the point of tears, he was always there with a smile and plate of fruit afterward, ready to soothe the emotional bruises he had dealt in the name of making Felix better. 

And Felix wanted to be better, craved that approval more than the air he breathed. Without Chan’s light shining on him, there was no reason to keep going, Felix would wilt away like a flower in the endless night. 

Felix loved him so much that it hurt.

But loving Chan was worth it, that was his dad, and Felix would love him to the moon and back no matter how much it hurt sometimes. He would take the pain and tuck it away with a smile, so long as it meant that Chan would continue to love him at the end of every day. 

Felix’s appetite had all but disappeared, food no longer as appealing as it used to be with all the knots tied into his stomach. There was no room for anything else with the endless pit of anxiety and self-loathing eating away at his insides and making him endlessly nauseous. He ate when he was out with his friends so as not to worry them, but he never ate anything more than what was sufficient to keep his friends from asking questions. 

He was spiraling, it was easy enough for anyone to tell, but Felix couldn’t stop himself. There had been irreparable damage done to his relationship with Chan—damage that was caused by Felix’s own hand—and now he had to live with those consequences. 

It only got worse on the third scheduled movie night in a row that Chan missed. 

Felix shouldn’t have been surprised, he knew Chan wanted space and he was trying so hard to give that. But he couldn’t hold back the wave of hurt that flowed through him at the message from his dad telling him he wouldn’t be making it for the third week in a row. 

After an hour of pacing and crying and hating himself more than he had ever hated anyone, Felix decided he had to get out of the house. Staying inside was doing nothing but twisting the knife in his heart, so going out would have to be a good enough remedy for his aching emotions. 

It was easy enough to convince his friends to take a night off from their plans under the guise of not having seen them enough lately—which wasn’t entirely untrue, Felix had been too busy loathing himself under his blankets to spend much time with his friends as of late. Even though it was a Thursday night, they all agreed readily and in an hour, Seungmin was waiting outside. 

Felix had dolled himself up enough so it wouldn’t look like he’d been moping as much as he had been, and dressed in a cute outfit, he felt almost like himself again. 

He climbed into the backseat of Seungmin’s sedan, Hyunjin already having claimed the front passenger seat. When he piled himself in, everyone greeted with a chorus of hellos. 

“It’s been ages since we’ve seen you!” Jisung groaned exaggeratedly, leaning over to wrap Felix up in an awkward, but snug, hug. 

“You saw me two days ago,” Felix responded with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“Yeah, but that was at school, it’s not the same.” Jisung pushed his lips out in a pout and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve done this, I’m excited,” Hyunjin turned in his seat to face Felix and Jisung, a wide smile lighting up his features. 

“Me too, I’m ready to get fucked up!” Jisung exclaimed, aggressively pumping one fist in the air. 

Despite all his awful feelings and everything else he was hiding inside, Felix couldn’t help giggling at the antics of his friends. They always worked wonders to cheer him up, whether they knew he was feeling down or not. 

“Ji, you get sloshed after two and a half drinks,” Seungmin chimed in from the driver’s seat, his voice dry. “If anyone’s going to be getting fucked up, it’s me for having to look after you three losers.”

“Aww, but you know you love us,” Hyunjin said with a pout at the same moment that Jisung reached forward to poke Seungmin’s shoulder and added, “But you’re out with us anyway! If we’re losers, then aren’t you one too for being friends with us?”

For all he tried to be aloof, Felix still noticed Seungmin trying to hold back a grin in the rearview mirror as he replied, “That’s just because you’re like little barnacles on the ship that is my life, I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried.”

“Well, actually, getting rid of barnacles is-” Jisung began.

Seungmin cut him off, snapping, “I know you can get rid of barnacles! Would you rather me call you parasites?”

“I guess not,” Jisung answered, dragging out the syllable and huffing dramatically. 

“He’s just afraid to admit how much he loves us, isn’t that right, Minnie-poo?” Hyunjin cooed from the passenger seat, pushing his face right up in Seungmin’s space when they came to a stop at a red light. 

“Absolutely not, I hate you all,” Seungmin grumbled, scrunching his face up the closer Hyunjin got. 

“You could have said no to joining us, but you didn’t,” Felix said in a singsong tone. Already, he was feeling better just from the short time he had been around his closest friends, the weight on his heart lifting by the second. 

“But then you’d have no one to watch you and make sure you were delivered home in one piece; no one else would want to watch you drunk shitheads,” Seungmin replied with a snicker. 

“One of our boyfriends could!” Jisung retorted immediately. “Or Lix’s dad, he’s busy but he’s cool.”

All at once, the light feeling that had been filling Felix up evaporated, leaving him empty like a deflated balloon. Just the person he didn’t want to think about. Chan seemed to follow him everywhere, even when Felix was actively running from thoughts of him. 

“He’s too nice, I wouldn’t want to pawn you three off on him like that.” Seungmin shook his head, putting the car in park when they reached the club lot. 

“That’s rude,” Hyunjin huffed. “He wouldn’t be the worst to have out with us—he’s hot, too.”

Felix wanted to be sick. The last thing he needed was to hear his friends talking about how lovely and hot his dad was, especially with all the inner turmoil he’d been under for the past month and a half for those very reasons. 

“I don’t think he’d want to,” Felix managed with a laugh he hoped didn’t sound as hollow to his friends as it did to his own ears. “He is really busy, you know? I haven’t seen him too much lately.”

“Well, one day it might be fun, give ol’ sourpuss over here a break and a chance to loosen up,” Jisung laughed, pointing toward Seungmin with his chin. 

“I- I don’t really think it’d be a good idea.” Felix forced out another weak laugh before climbing out of the car as fast as he could, not waiting to hear the answers from his friends. 

Holding himself back from marching in without his friends was a Herculean effort, the need to sprint away from the questioning glances Felix was sure to receive nearly overwhelming him. He was behaving oddly, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Thinking about his father wasn’t what he needed right now, nor was the vulnerability that came with opening up about all the secrets festering away in his tortured mind. 

Sure enough, when his friends caught up with him where he was standing a parking space over, there was that questioning look Felix was expecting from Hyunjin. An odd glance with narrowed eyes from Seungmin. And blissfully, nothing from Jisung. 

Felix knew his birthday twin was more perceptive than he looked, and there was no way Jisung hadn’t picked up on his reaction. Though it seemed like he had opted to spare Felix for the time being, something he was endlessly grateful for. Dealing with two of his friends giving him concerned looks was one thing, but Felix felt like he might crumble away into nothing if all three of them ganged up to be worried and nosy. 

Leading the way into the club, Felix and his friends all flashed their IDs before being let through the door. 

From there, it was easy to shrug off the way Felix’s heart pounded like it would ever have the chance to again as he let himself get swept up in the flashing lights and thumping bass of the club. He let his friends lead him over to a booth in the back and settled in for their first round of drinks. 

Felix immediately went for the fruity drinks he loved, making sure to order them with an extra shot in each one. Tonight wasn’t for being reasonable, it was about forgetting everything that had been tearing him up inside and finally forcing himself to loosen up for the first time in over a month. He pounded the first drink he was given, ignoring the burn in his throat and the eyes of all his friends widening as they watched him. 

“Hey, make sure not to go too crazy, okay?” Hyunjin requested, reaching over to lightly pat Felix on the shoulder. “And if there’s anything wrong, know we’re always here to help and listen if you need.”

Felix waved him off, the alcohol settling into his system pleasantly, already warming up his veins slightly. “Nothing’s wrong, just haven’t done this in a while, y’know? Can’t wait to get into it.”

Hyunjin didn’t look at all convinced, but nodded anyway. “Whatever you say, Lix. Just don’t overdo it too much.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Felix promised, smiling in what he could only hope was a reassuring way. 

I won’t overdo it—famous last words. 

A few hours in and Felix could hardly remember his own name. He was so warm and light and giggly, all his previous problems floating far, far away where he hoped to never reach them again. His friends were with him and he could barely remember what was wrong or why he had wanted to get away in the first place. 

Hyunjin and Jisung were both drunk, but nowhere near as gone as Felix was. Not that he cared, he felt lovely. Nothing could stop him. Probably. He might have to test that at some point. 

So when Seungmin dragged him out of the club sometime past midnight, Felix went along willingly, still giggly and feeling better than he had in so fucking long. He didn’t know why he didn’t do this more often. 

That fuzzy feeling lasted all the way up until Seungmin announced he was going to call Felix’s dad so he wouldn’t be held liable if Felix cracked his skull going up the stairs to his room. In less than a second, everything good that Felix had been feeling turned upside down on its head, tumbled down the side of a cliff, and into a massive bonfire. 

Before Felix could fully realize what was happening, tears were welling up in his eyes and he was shaking his head as fast as he could without getting dizzy—which was to say all of one time prior to dizziness shooting through his whole body. But the dizziness was second to the panic rippling through him at lightning speed. 

“No, n-no, don’t do that,” Felix pleaded, his words slurring and stomach lurching at the thought of Chan seeing him like this. He’d never earn Chan’s approval if he was seen like this. 

“No can do, Lix, sorry. I don’t need you breaking something because you fell down the stairs,” Seungmin said, though Felix could barely hear him over the sudden ringing in his ears. 

“He can’t- can’t see me like- like- like this.” It was getting harder for Felix to articulate himself with the tears running down his face like two traitorous waterfalls. But Seungmin couldn’t call his dad, he couldn’t. Felix wouldn’t survive if he did. 

But unfortunately, Seungmin and all of his stupid fucking responsibility already had Chan’s number dialed and the line ringing. 

Felix didn’t hear any of the call, he was far too busy sobbing his eyes out in the backseat, both Hyunjin and Jisung trying to comfort him. Drunk as they were too, it didn’t help much and they were more confused than anything else, but they tried with clumsy pats to his back and head. 

“Lix, honey, wha’s wrong?” Hyunjin’s words slurred slightly, but not so much that Felix couldn’t understand him. 

“He hates me!” Felix wailed, hiding his face in his hands and continuing to sob into them as he rambled on about all the terrible things that had happened the last month and change. “I miss him s’ much, but- but I did s’mthing bad and now, now he hates me! I- I just wan’ him to love me, wha’s so wrong with that? Wha’s so wrong with me…?”

There were resounding reassurances from both Hyunjin and Jisung that that wasn’t true in the slightest, that Felix’s dad loved him more than anything. But Felix could barely hear them over the sound over his own cries, over the truth that was ringing through his head loud and clear. He had fucked up so royally that he had made Chan hate him and now he was going to be forced to take care of Felix again, all because Felix couldn’t deal with every one of the terrible feelings locked up inside his heart. 

More than ever, Felix hated himself, loathed every bit of himself with all the power in his body. 

He really was a terrible son, wasn’t he?

Before Felix knew it, before he was ready—not that he would ever be ready for what awaited him at home—Seungmin was pulling up outside his house, Chan already outside and waiting for them. 

He was standing in that infernal robe, arms crossed over his chest and looking so concerned and so beautiful. Even more tears escaped Felix’s eyes when Chan crossed the front yard in a few quick strides, opening the door for Felix when he got to the car and bending down to thank Seungmin for watching over him. 

The whole time, Felix was a blubbering mess, shaky hands fumbling with his seatbelt before Chan reached over to unbuckle the belt for him. 

“Come on, little one, up we go,” he said, gently pulling Felix to his feet and letting Felix lean heavily on him as they shuffled up to the front door. 

“‘M sorry, ‘m so- so sorry,” was all Felix could say, his words stuck on a loop and feeling like the only thing he possibly could say. Nothing would make it better, but at least he could make sure Chan knew just how horribly apologetic Felix was, how much he wanted things to be different. How much Felix wished he could be different. 

“No need to be sorry, Lix.” Chan’s arm around his back steadied Felix and kept him from toppling right over a stray shoe by the door. 

“Buh- but there is!” Felix insisted, his throat raw from all the alcohol and crying he had done that night. “You hate me, an’ ‘s all my fault.”

For a moment, Chan was silent as he waddled Felix over to the couch and helped him sit down before kneeling down to pull his shoes off. The longer Chan went without speaking, the worse Felix felt. He was just avoiding saying something because he didn’t want to speak the truth and hurt Felix. 

Chan was so good to him. There was no world in any universe in which Felix deserved the love and care his dad always showed him. 

But eventually, the answer came, soft and truer than Felix could ever have hoped for. “I don’t hate you, little one, not in the slightest.”

There was a light pat to his knee before Chan stood up and all over again, Felix felt like his world was spinning like a top balancing on a high wire. 

Hiccuping once, Felix sniffled, wiping a hand over his face. He couldn’t seem to stop the tears, they just kept coming, blurring his vision and ruining the light makeup he had applied before leaving the house earlier. 

“Then- then what’d I do?” Felix asked around a cough. He knew, he knew very well what he’d done and how terrible that made him. He deserved Chan hating him, deserved every bad thing his brain was hurling at him. He couldn’t stop the thoughts, they were just so loud and impossibly jumbled like a ball of knotted yarn. 

Tentatively, Chan reached out and cupped Felix’s cheek lightly. Felix could hardly see through the tears clouding his vision, but if he didn’t know better, he would’ve said the expression on his dad’s face was almost loving. 

But that couldn’t be right, could it? Chan hated him, even if he was telling Felix otherwise to make him feel better. 

“You didn’t do anything, Lix.” Chan’s answer was soft, gentle, and reminded Felix of the first blanketing of snow in winter when they’d visit Korea. 

“Miss you,” Felix blurted out, his mouth moving without permission but needing to get the words out before he choked on them. He had no right to miss Chan, but he did. Felix missed him and he loved him so much it was tearing him apart from the inside out. Another sob bubbled out of him and he slumped forward to rest his forehead against Chan’s hip. “Please… don’t leave me, please.”

There was a stretch of silence, so similar to the one only minutes before. And then Felix was letting himself be moved, handled gently until he was leaning into Chan, a pair of strong arms keeping him together while he dissolved into another round of cries. 

Felix’s head was pounding, every sob tearing through him like a bullet and adding to the pain that was quickly overtaking his body. He crumpled into Chan’s chest and just let himself be held. There would be time afterward for Felix to hate himself for everything that was said and done, but just for a minute, he could let himself have this. 

A soft press of lips to his sweat-damp hair and then an equally soft, “I’ll never leave you, baby, promise.”

Felix didn’t know how much he believed Chan—especially with how the past weeks had been—but he would pretend. He could do that. 

He cried and cried and cried until he couldn’t feel anything anymore, aside from the hurt in his heart and the pain in his head. Let himself be lulled to sleep when Chan gently began rocking him side to side, humming those sweet lullabies that Felix hadn’t heard in such a very long time. 

Hopefully in the morning, Felix would wake up to find that this had all been a bad dream.

Chan had tried his very best to be a good parent, to give Felix everything he would ever need. Whatever Felix needed throughout his whole life, Chan was there. He was there for every bump and bruise and scraped knee as a child, every math homework question that Chan barely understood himself. He saw Felix through his first crushes and then girlfriend and the subsequent break up with a hug and willing distraction of a movie night and pizza. Chan was there when Felix realized he might not be straight and supported him when Felix told him he only liked boys and not girls. 

Everything Chan did was for the good of his son, to push him forward until he was better than Chan in every way. It killed him to pull away as he had the older Felix got, but he didn’t want to be one of those parents that hovered over their children until they suffocated, never letting their little ones grow into their own people. 

That was the last thing Chan had ever wanted for Felix, his little ray of sunshine. He wanted Felix to blossom and grow into his own person—a beautiful, strong one that didn’t need to lean on anyone for anything, never having to live in the shadow of anyone else. And that was why he pushed Felix so much about his art skills. Chan knew his son could be great—better than himself, by far—he just needed to improve a little more to help all those brilliant ideas in his head come to life on paper. 

Which was why, when Felix came to him and asked Chan to model nude for him, he didn’t ask any questions. Or at least, not as many as he should have. He went along with it far too easily and although it was awkward and tiring for him, it helped Felix break through whatever mental barrier had been holding him back from reaching his true potential. 

And that was why, when Felix came to him a couple days later asking to do it all over again, Chan had agreed, even though it had taken a bit more convincing. It was worth it to see his boy finally be able to flourish the way he had been striving to for so long. 

The designs Felix had come up with were lovely, and Chan could hardly believe that it was his son that had come up with them. As awkward as it had been for those designs to come to life, they were gorgeous and Chan was so painfully proud. 

Felix had become much more attentive the following week, a fact that confused yet also pleased Chan. It was torturous pulling away to let Felix grow up that suddenly having him trying to hang off Chan at all times was nothing short of heaven. 

In hindsight, Chan realized that he should have questioned that a little more too. But in the moment, he was just so happy to have that closeness with his baby back that nothing else mattered. 

And then, on that fateful Saturday night, he did the unthinkable. 

Felix had had a bad dream and crawled into bed with him, it had been years since he had done so and Chan never questioned it. It was just another thing that he figured would go away the older Felix got. But Felix was so sleep-warm and sounded so small that Chan truly had no other option but to wrap him up in his arms and keep him close until the nightmares left his little one alone. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Chan fell right back to sleep without any issues. 

The morning was what brought shame and the realization that Chan had done something unforgivable. He woke up an hour before his alarm that he could never remember to turn off to underwear that was stuck to his skin and flashes of the dream he’d had running through his mind. Glimpses here and there of blonde hair and freckles like constellations and tiny hands grabbing for him bombarded Chan in an unending reel he couldn’t clear from his head. 

Immediately, he had scrambled away from Felix, who was still asleep in Chan’s bed, to go wash himself off. While the whole dream was a blur, the implications of it were clear as crystal. 

He’d had a wet dream about Felix. His own son. 

Chan was disgusted with himself. He had done something so completely vile, he had to fight back bile from crawling up his throat every time he thought about it. 

Even if he had no control over it, Chan couldn’t believe that had happened. There was something wrong with him, surely. He wasn’t a stranger to those types of dreams, but the last time he remembered having one that ended with him cumming in his underwear was over a decade ago. 

He had never thought about Felix like that. Sure, Chan had eyes and knew that objectively, his son was beautiful, but that was still his own flesh and blood. He had no business thinking of Felix in any other manner that was less than familial. 

The physical evidence of what he had done was easily washed away in the shower, but the mental proof remained, clinging to his thoughts like a murky sludge. No matter what Chan could think to do, there was nothing he could do to rid himself of it. 

There was only one answer. 

Chan would have to stay away from Felix until he felt like he had atoned for his actions and cleansed himself of the possibility of having any condemning thoughts return. The idea of doing so made his heart twist in his chest, but Chan knew it was for the best. One wrong move and he would completely ruin his relationship with his son—the sole thing he couldn’t bear to lose. He didn’t want any of his horrid behaviors corrupting Felix, his boy deserved so much better than that. 

But even so, it was a Sunday, one of the rare Sundays where Chan didn’t have any obligations or places to be. Usually, on the weekends when he wasn’t busy, Chan would make a breakfast spread with pancakes and whatever else he could find around the house. 

Although he wanted nothing more than to head right into one of his two design rooms and hide away from the consequences of his actions, Chan didn’t want to completely drop Felix out of nowhere—especially since his son had already had such a difficult night to begin with. It wasn’t fair to Felix, he hadn’t done anything wrong. Giving him a normal Sunday morning was the bare minimum Chan could provide before distancing himself to fix whatever had gone awry in his own brain. 

Chan wouldn’t say he completely managed normal, per se, but he tried. He made up some pancakes and ate them in awkward silence with Felix by his side before scurrying away to his design room like a wounded dog with its tail between its legs. 

He hated himself for doing so, but Chan despised the thought of corrupting his ray of sunshine with the darkness in his own heart even more. 

It was torture, separating himself the way he did, never being around Felix more than absolutely necessary and finding reasons to be out of the house on the nights they were supposed to spend time together. 

Chan hated how he could practically feel the disappointment seeping through his phone screen every time he told Felix he wouldn’t be home until late, wouldn’t be there for a movie night, wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t. He knew Felix must have been feeling confused and hurt by the sudden change, but Chan hoped he somehow knew it wasn’t because he had done anything wrong and that it was for his own good. 

The third week in a row that Chan texted to say he wasn’t going to be able to make it to their weekly movie might, he knew something was up. Felix usually responded almost instantaneously, even if it was just a small answer. This time though, it took him nearly an hour to reply, a little smiley face tacked on that had Chan even more worried. He knew his son loved adding on smiley faces to nearly every message he would send, but those had dwindled in number the more Chan had pulled away, Felix now opting for shorter, more direct messages instead. 

As much as Chan had been planning to stay at his studio until late—as he had been doing the past few weeks in a meager attempt to atone for his sins, not that it helped any—he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Chan had wanted to cleanse himself from what he had done and the horrible thoughts he had of his own son, thoughts that still plagued him far too often. But maybe he had pulled away too far too quickly and had hurt Felix even more than he expected by trying to protect him more. 

Another forty-five minutes of deliberating and worrying and getting nothing done, and Chan decided it would do him no good to sit around and wonder what was happening at home. He packed up his things for the night and made his way back, just to find the house empty when he arrived. There was no sign of Felix, no note—not that he expected one, Felix hadn’t been leaving notes on his whereabouts since he finished high school. 

Chan fired off another text to Felix, simply stating his evening had cleared up and he was home now. There was no reply and Chan was completely fine with that. His son was capable and smart, he wouldn’t get himself into trouble. Felix was probably just out with some friends and nothing bad was possibly happening to him. 

No matter how many times Chan tried to reassure himself, he couldn’t stop every single worst-case scenario from bolting through his thoughts at an unstoppable speed. 

The longer he went without an answer, the more Chan had to hold himself back from marching out into the night to track down Felix himself and make sure his little one was safe. To stop himself from doing so, Chan decided he would get ready for bed and then just wait up to make sure Felix got home in one piece. His son was a strong adult, Chan could let him go out like the adult he was without being weird about it. 

He could be normal about this. He was normal about it. 

Midnight passed and still no word from Felix. Chan was still being normal about it all. 

It was nearing one thirty in the morning when his phone lit up with a call, not from Felix, but instead from Felix’s friend, Seungmin. Chan scrambled to answer it, pressing the green button on his phone with an only slightly shaky finger and telling himself it was just because he was tired, there was no other reason. 

“Hello?” Chan hoped the panic in his heart didn’t translate into his voice as he spoke. 

“Hello, Mr. Bang,” came the voice on the other end of the receiver. “I’m on my way to your house, and I have Felix here with me.”

From somewhere in the background, Chan could hear the distinctive sound of someone wailing—someone that sounded very much like Felix. What had happened to him? Chan’s heart squeezed in his chest as he asked, “Is that him crying? Is he alright, what happened?”

“Yeah…” Seungmin answered hesitantly. “We went out to a club and we all tried to warn him not to overdo it, but he ignored us—typical—and now he’s wailing about how he doesn’t want you to see him like this. I just don’t want him to crack his head open while he’s so out of it.”

That was an unneeded image that shot across Chan’s mental eye. Seungmin was Felix’s most responsible friend and while Chan trusted him, he could also readily admit the younger man’s way of delivery left a lot to be desired. 

Chan gave up all hope at sounding normal when a hysterical little laugh escaped him. “Yeah, no, we don’t want that. Thanks for telling me, I’ll be ready to pick him up when you get here.”

He barely heard Seungmin’s reply telling him they’d be there in a couple minutes and didn’t remember what his own answer was. There was a ringing in his ears that had crept up, deafening him and shrieking against his skull until the moment he was standing outside on the porch and watching Seungmin’s car pull up. Only when Chan had made it to the car and had his eyes on Felix did the ringing stop. 

His boy looked horrendous, makeup streaked down his face and the whites of his eyes nearly the same shade as his flushed cheeks. Felix was fumbling with his seatbelt, tears still streaming down his face as his hands shook violently. 

“Lemme help,” Chan offered, keeping his voice gentle. He reached over to unbuckle the belt over Felix’s lap, silently thanking every one of his lucky stars that he was hooked in securely while in such a state, and carefully helped lift his son out of the backseat of the car. “Come on, little one, up we go.”

Chan threw out a quick ‘Thank you’ to Seungmin before guiding Felix up and into their house, letting him sag into his side. The whole time, Felix hadn’t stopped crying and was instead mumbling slurred apologies as if they were the only words he could remember. 

“Shh, there’s no need to be sorry, Lix,” Chan squeezed him just a little tighter when Felix nearly tripped over his own feet just past the doorway. He’d seen his son in various states of intoxication in the past, but never to this extent, he was always better at not going too crazy when out with friends. 

“B-But there is,” Felix insisted, his words slurring together as another round of sobs started up. “You hate me an’ ‘s all my fault.”

The fact that this reaction was more than likely caused by Chan made his heart hurt, a shot of pain ripping through his chest anew as he helped Felix sit—or rather, slump—onto the couch. Without thinking twice about it, Chan lowered himself to one knee so he could carefully tug off Felix’s shoes one by one. 

He was quiet for a moment, trying to wade his way through the mud of his thoughts. Felix thought Chan hated him? The knife between Chan’s ribs twisted again as he tugged off the first of Felix’s socks, ignoring the sweaty dampness of the fabric. 

Chan had failed him, he had pushed his baby away, so far that now, Felix was scared that he was hated. That he had done something wrong when only the opposite was true. 

With a deep sigh, Chan shook his head and began pulling off Felix’s other sock. “I don’t hate you, little one, not in the slightest.” 

The second sock hit the floor, the soft sound inaudible over the sounds of Felix sniffling and coughing through his tears. Chan gently patted Felix’s jean-clad knee and pushed himself up off the floor. He’d have to get a box of tissues so Felix could wipe his face off, it must have been uncomfortable having his skin be wet for so long. 

Felix hiccuped once and looked up at Chan, broken expression across his beautiful features. “Then- then what’d I do?”

The need to scoop Felix up and hold him close until tears were the furthest things on his mind surged through Chan’s body in such a visceral way he nearly felt lightheaded. But he couldn’t do that, he had a whole new list of sins to atone for—he didn’t deserve any of Felix’s attention. 

The acknowledgment of that fact didn’t stop Chan’s hand from slowly reaching out until his palm touched overheated, damp skin, covering some of the freckles that Chan loved so dearly. He didn’t miss the minuscule way Felix leaned into the touch ever so lightly or the slow blink of his teary eyes as he stared at Chan. Even a drunk, weepy mess, Felix was still the most beautiful thing Chan had ever seen. It was true the day he came into this world and it was true now and every single moment in between. 

“You didn’t do anything, Lix.” Chan’s voice was soft, achingly so, to match the overwhelming love in his heart for his baby. His little one that he didn’t deserve—had never deserved from the moment Chan first held his tiny, screaming form in the hospital. 

“Miss you,” Felix replied, his bottom lip trembling as he tried to hold back another wave of emotion. But it was for nothing because a moment later, he was slumping forward, his forehead hitting Chan in the hip and another sob tumbling out of him. “Please… don’t leave me, please.”

White hot pain shot through Chan’s entire body at the words, the trembling tone with which Felix spoke and the way his voice cracked on the last word. For a moment, Chan was silent and still, feeling like he had been frozen in place by the heaving plea that Felix had uttered into the quiet air. 

Then, as if his body was moving on its own, he was gathering Felix up into his arms and settling them both on the couch. Felix curled into Chan and crumpled into his most violent round of tears yet, his whole body shaking as he sobbed like there was no tomorrow. Chan held him together, rubbing Felix’s back and wishing he could take all the pain he was feeling from him. 

Lightly, Chan pressed his lips to the top of Felix’s head, murmuring into the sweaty strands, “I’ll never leave you, baby, promise.”

And he meant it. More than anything, Chan meant what he said. Even if he had distanced himself from Felix for the past couple weeks, he would never abandon his boy—Chan knew it would kill him if he did. 

Felix didn’t answer, not that Chan was expecting him to with how hard he was crying, so Chan continued to keep him close and let him cry it out. He started lightly rocking Felix side to side when it didn’t seem like he would be calming down anytime soon, a move that used to work flawlessly when Felix was young and would cry to Chan for any number of things. Now that Felix was older, it wasn’t as easy to calm him down, and before he even realized it, Chan was softly humming the lullabies he sang to Felix as a child. 

It took some time, but eventually, Felix had gone boneless in Chan’s arms, his tears coming to a stop and his chest no longer heaving. 

Chan waited a few minutes more to ensure Felix was actually asleep before carefully lifting him up and carrying him toward the stairs. Asleep, Felix looked so peaceful, and if it wasn’t for the makeup still smeared across his face, Chan would have been none the wiser to the turmoil his son had gone through for the past hour. 

Nudging the door open with his foot, Chan carried Felix into his bedroom and over to his bed, gently setting him down on top of the covers. He made his way over to the closet to pull out an extra blanket to drape over Felix so he wouldn’t get cold during the night, Chan would wash his sheets tomorrow, they would need it after Felix slept on them in his club clothes. 

As Chan leaned over to tuck Felix under the blanket, sleepy brown eyes blinked open at him, still reddened from all the crying he had done. 

“Dad… please, don’… don’ leave,” Felix’s voice was scratchy, sounding like he might have been sleep talking, had Chan not known better. 

Chan knew it wouldn’t be smart to stay, to give into the voice clawing at his mind and telling him to provide for Felix’s every whim. But then, he had been so distant, distant enough that Felix thought Chan hated him. He didn’t know what might happen if he denied Felix’s request—it might put him even deeper into the spiral that had caused him to go crazy with the alcohol that night. 

So, he sighed and nodded, climbing under the blanket and allowing Felix to curl in close to him. Chan wrapped him back up in a snug embrace, ignoring the way his heart gave a traitorous leap in his chest. 

Some time passed and just when Chan thought Felix had fallen back to sleep, that same tiny voice spoke up again. “D’you love me?”

Chan felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, the hand that had been slowly trailing up and down Felix’s back stilling for a brief second. When he answered, Chan didn’t sound half as confident as he should have been—as he was. He adored Felix more than anything else in the whole, entire world and yet all that came out was a weak, “Of course I do, Lix.”

There was a tiny noise of discontentment from Felix, where his face was halfway smushed against Chan’s chest. “Tell me-… tell me you love me. Please…”

Felix was mere moments away from passing out once again, his pretty eyes disappearing for longer amounts of time when he blinked. Chan gently brushed away the hair that had dried stuck to his forehead and let his hand slide down to cup Felix’s cheek lightly, thumb brushing over the freckles dusted under his eyes, half-hidden beneath the black streaks of mascara that had trailed down his face. 

“I love you, little one,” Chan murmured, taking care to keep his voice quiet, so he wouldn’t disturb Felix as he fell back into sleep. “I love you more than the sun and the moon and all the stars in the great, big sky.”

It was what he always used to tell Felix when he was a child, the only thing that could even begin to sum up just how much Chan loved him. He hadn’t uttered that sentiment in that way in so very long, a new well of emotions rising up in him as he spoke—one that spread throughout his chest and all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. 

When Felix had fallen back to sleep, Chan leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of Felix’s head again. Just once more, he could let himself baby his boy, hold him close and keep him safe from the monsters lurking in the shadows of night. Felix was his little one, no matter how old they both got, and Chan would always love him more than anything else in the entire universe. 

Felix may have had half of Chan’s DNA, but Chan was convinced he was put on this earth to love Felix, to lift him up and support him as he made his way through the journey that was life. Without Felix, Chan was adrift, a lonely moon without a planet to orbit.  

Chan drifted off to sleep shortly after Felix did, feeling more whole than he had in such a long time. 

The next morning, Felix woke up to a pounding headache and a roiling stomach, the light in the room stinging his sensitive eyes. There was a weight over his middle, so similar to the one that he woken up under what felt like a lifetime ago, and there was a warm body pressed right up against his body. 

Before Felix could have the chance to bask in the feeling of having Chan so close to him, his stomach gave a violent tilt, forcing him to scramble to his still unsteady feet. He stumbled off to his bathroom, making it to the toilet only a moment before everything he’d drank the night before came rumbling right back up. 

He curled around the edge of the toilet, his stomach convulsing as it forced everything up and out in a burning torrent. All Felix could do was cling to the cool ceramic and try his best to ride it out without slumping over, tears dripping from his eyes at the awful sensations. In the very back of his mind, he registered hands pulling his hair away from his face and then a gentle pressure over his upper back. 

Chan. His dad. His dad was here, holding Felix’s hair back while he puked his guts out for what felt like forever. 

Eventually, the repeated clenching of his stomach lessened, leaving Felix coughing up bile before everything finally stopped, his body tilting to one side as it gave out on him. 

“Careful, baby,” came Chan’s soft voice from behind as he caught Felix just a second prior to him tumbling to the floor. 

Felix let out a wobbly cry, collapsing into Chan’s hold, and let himself be carried back to bed. Chan set him down gently, Felix immediately curling onto his side and sniffling. 

“‘M sorry, didn’t mean to,” Felix’s voice was raw and shaky. He couldn’t meet Chan’s eyes and the disappointment that was surely lying there—couldn’t believe he had made such a fool of himself, both last night and this morning. 

The events of last night were hazy, blanked out completely after Chan pulled Felix into his arms and let him bawl like a baby until he had no tears left in him. He remembered Chan calling him little one and saying he didn’t hate Felix, that he wouldn’t leave Felix behind, but everything aside from that was a blur. Felix didn’t know if that was a curse or a blessing in disguise. 

“It’s okay, little one, I’ll be right back.” Chan smoothed Felix’s hair back from his forehead before disappearing into the bathroom. 

The tears returned full force the moment Chan was out of the room. How Felix still had tears left inside him after the previous night and this morning was a mystery, one he didn’t give much thought to as he laid there, quietly crying to himself. He heard the faucet in the bathroom turn on, Chan reappearing several moments later with a damp washcloth. 

Felix kept trying to mutter out apologies, Chan shushing him almost immediately. 

“Hush, baby, it isn’t your fault. I’ll clean you up and make sure things are okay.” Without giving him time to answer, Chan brought the washcloth up to Felix’s face and began gently wiping his mouth. 

Felix stared at his dad, just a blurry figure in his teary eyes, and wondered what he must have said or done to get Chan to act like this all of a sudden. His dad had always been attentive and doting whenever Felix was sick, always making sure Felix had everything he could ever need to aid his recovery. But after the past few weeks of silence between them, he wasn’t sure if that would be the case anymore—especially since Felix had caused this bout of stomach pyrotechnics himself. 

“Just breathe or you’ll make yourself sick again,” Chan chided gently. “I’ve got the shower running, in a minute I’ll help you clean yourself off.”

Weakly, Felix shook his head. He couldn’t let Chan do that, couldn’t let his dad see him anymore than necessary in this disgusting state, he could shower on his own. 

“I can- I can do it,” Felix murmured when the washcloth had been pulled away from his mouth. 

“Absolutely not,” Chan replied with a chuckle, bringing his clean hand up to gently swipe away the tears slowly trailing down Felix’s face. “You’re so wobbly and shaky right now, I don’t trust you not to keel over in the middle of washing your hair.”

As much as Felix didn’t want to admit it, Chan did have a point. He felt like he might collapse all over again the moment he tried to get up off the bed—there really was no way he could make it through a whole shower on his own. So, reluctantly, Felix nodded and let his dad help him up off the mattress and into the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes one grimy piece of clothing at a time. 

Chan pulled off his own robe and boxers hidden underneath, and wrapped an arm securely around Felix to help him into the shower. Felix slumped against the wall, not having it in him to argue when his dad got his hair wet and started rubbing shampoo into the limp strands. His eyes fell shut on their own accord as he sunk into the calming feeling of Chan taking care of him—he didn’t know if he would ever have the privilege again after this, so Felix let his dad wash him until all remnants of the night before had trailed down the drain. 

Felix didn’t say anything as Chan cleaned him off, listening instead to the soft humming of his dad, the gentle murmurs of Chan asking him to tilt his head one way or the other, or hold his arms up so he could wash Felix’s body. Blinking sleepily, Felix did as he was asked, not having the emotional stamina to do anything aside from whatever Chan asked of him. 

He was morbidly curious to find out what exactly he had done last night, but at the same time, Felix was terrified to find out. The less he knew the better, maybe. He couldn’t make things worse if he didn’t know all of what he had done, especially if whatever it was had gotten Chan to love on him in a way Felix hadn’t felt in years. Felix was a weak, weak man and he wasn’t about to argue if his father wanted to suddenly be around him after weeks of being ignored. 

When Felix was clean, Chan shut off the faucet and got out first, holding out a fluffy towel for him to step into. Chan gently wrapped the towel around Felix’s shoulders, before grabbing another one to gently dry off Felix’s dripping hair and combing through it with his fingers. 

Felix glanced at his father, frowning when he noticed Chan hadn’t tried to dry off at all, goosebumps littering his bare skin alongside the droplets of water clinging to him. “Dad, you’re cold. Why- why didn’t you dry off?”

Chan shrugged and shot him a small smile as he led Felix back into his room, taking the towel when Felix sat back down on his bed and slumped to one side again. Quickly, Chan wrapped the towel around himself and gave his body a cursory dry-off. 

“I just did, see?” Chan winked at him once and Felix fought back the urge to squeak in surprise. His dad had changed so drastically just overnight, suddenly back to the loving parent Felix had grown up with. Felix felt a mild amount of whiplash from how fast everything had changed and then changed back, but he wasn’t one to argue. 

If the last weeks had taught him anything, it was that he couldn’t live without his dad, no matter how terrible Felix had been to him—no matter how much he didn’t deserve the love and care Chan always gave him. Felix would rather walk barefoot across hot coals than have to live without Chan lifting him up and making sure he was taken care of. 

Chan turned to Felix’s dresser and pulled out a new pair of pajamas, waddling back over to the bed and holding up the shirt so he could slip over Felix’s head. “Arms up, baby.”

Feeling so very much like a child, Felix let his dad redress him in clean underwear and pajamas, then let Chan lift him up into his arms like he weighed nothing and carry him into his own room. Felix made a confused noise but Chan shushed him gently, setting him down onto the mattress before pulling the blankets up and tucking them around Felix’s form. 

“I’m putting you in here to rest while I get your sheets washed and something easy for you to put in your stomach,” he explained gently, like Felix was still the small child Chan had raised for so many years. 

He hated to admit it to himself, but… Felix enjoyed it. He enjoyed his father carrying him around, tucking him in and speaking to him like he was still five years old. It reminded him of the times before he got older, when things started to strain between them—though not cracking completely—when Chan pulled away and started to push Felix harder instead of simply supporting him as he gave it his best. 

“Okay, Daddy,” Felix murmured, the name slipping out unbidden. He just felt so small and so sleepy, eyes already drooping as Chan smiled at him and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Just get some sleep, little one, I’ll be here if you need me,” Chan replied softly. 

Felix wasn’t sure what had changed in the past day, but this time, he couldn’t help but believe the sincerity in his dad’s words as he drifted off to sleep once again. 

When Felix awoke next, it was to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open and the smell of freshly made pancakes. 

He blinked his eyes open, rubbing away the sleep dust that had built up while he was out. The awful nausea that he had woken up to earlier had subsided somewhat, leaving him instead with a terrible headache and a mouth drier than a desert in summer. Thankfully, he felt more in control of his emotions than he had in the morning or the night prior, and although he still felt terrible for a slew of reasons, Felix no longer felt like he might burst into tears at any moment. 

Chan stood at the foot of the bed with a little tray in his hands, that same gentle smile as before stretching across his lips. 

“Morning again,” he said, shuffling closer to perch on the edge of the bed next to Felix. “I made you pancakes and some eggs, there’s some honey, but no syrup because that might make you feel worse.”

Felix smiled a little and slowly worked his way up into a mostly sitting position against the headboard and let Chan place the tray on his lap. The food looked and smelled delicious, two chocolate chip pancakes with swirls of honey overtop and scrambled eggs on the side. The honey in the middle had been drawn into a slightly lopsided smile that was slowly melting into the pancake. And there was a full glass each of water and orange juice that Felix was secretly impressed that Chan hadn’t spilled while carrying the tray they were on. 

“This was really sweet, thank you,” Felix said, picking up the fork laid next to the plate and cutting into the pancakes. 

“I didn’t want to give you too much in case you were still feeling sick, but if you’d like more, I can make it for you.” Chan gently reached over to pat Felix’s knee over the blankets. 

“This should be alright, thank you,” Felix answered and took a bite of the pancakes, humming at the taste. They weren’t as sweet as normal—though maybe that was due to the fact it wasn’t doused in syrup the way Felix usually ate his pancakes. They were still pleasant and settled easily into his stomach. 

“Make sure to eat some of those eggs, too, little one. The protein will help you feel better sooner,” Chan reminded, lightly rubbing Felix’s knee where his hand still rested. 

Felix nodded his head. “I will. These pancakes are just yummy.”

Chan smiled over at him, looking painfully fond; though for what reason, Felix had no idea. All he had done the past day—the past weeks—was make things worse between him and his dad, and had behaved reprehensibly. Felix let the confusing feelings well up and make things bad between them and ruin his chances at ever having a normal relationship with his dad. 

Because truly, there was no way he could ever hope for things to go back to normal, was there? 

Felix had irreparably changed the way he viewed his father, and the past weeks of separation had only strengthened the feelings that had begun to grow. Feelings that Felix couldn’t avoid any longer, but didn’t want to give a name to, the thought of doing so terrified him more than anything else did. Except for maybe the fallout. The moment where Chan realized how terrible and depraved his son was and cast him out, disgusted with everything Felix had become. 

Felix couldn’t let that happen. Without his dad there, Felix had nothing. He could make it on his own, but he didn’t think he could take that emotional hit and come out still functioning on the other side. 

“Whatever makes you happiest,” Chan said, his hand staying where it was placed atop Felix’s leg. 

You make me happiest, went unsaid as Felix nodded again. He wanted to be open—wanted to tell Chan just what he felt, as confusing and distressing as it was, but he couldn’t. There was no way for him to ever truly express his emotions to his dad. 

“Thank you,” Felix settled on instead and focused back on shoveling away his breakfast, even though it was already into the afternoon, if the light streaming into the room was any indication. 

Chan didn’t say anything in response and let Felix eat, pulling out his phone and checking it with one hand. The other stayed placed on top of Felix’s knee. 

Which reminded Felix… it was Friday, Chan should have been at work. Did he take off just for Felix? 

Felix waited to ask until he was finished with the majority of his pancakes and eggs, only a couple bites left of each that he couldn’t fit in his stomach. “Dad, why aren’t you at work?”

Chan glanced up from his phone and shrugged. “I took today off so I could be here.”

Slowly, Felix nodded. He had figured that out, but what he didn’t know was, “Why?”

“You needed me more.” It was a simple answer, one that Chan gave so automatically it was if he had just declared the sky to be blue. 

Felix felt like he might be sick all over again. The whiplash he received from Chan’s changing moods was enough to hurt, despite the warmth that was rapidly filling up his heart. A week ago, he wouldn’t have believed Chan would have wanted to be this close to him—much less be as doting as he was. 

But also, he was in no position to argue. For the first time in a month, Felix felt like he could finally breathe again after spending so long with his head underwater. The impact his dad being so close had on Felix was pathetic yet at the same time, it was undeniable, making him feel like everything would be alright no matter what. 

Felix had no words, nothing to say that wouldn’t give away all the swirling emotions in his heart so he just nodded slowly, scooping one last bite of food into his mouth before setting the tray off to the side. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

Chan smiled at him once more, the weight of his hand over top of Felix’s leg nearly burning a hole through the blankets and into Felix’s skin. What he wouldn’t give to have those hands all over him, palms softly caressing his limbs and pulling Felix apart, just to piece him back together again. It would be heaven, Felix knew it would be, his father would take such good care of him—they would take perfect care of each other. 

“Anytime, Lix,” Chan answered. “Now, I’ll run this downstairs and do a little more cleaning around the house while you get some more rest, yeah?”

Once again, Felix nodded, and let his dad reach over him to grab the tray that had been set aside. Internally, he mourned the loss of Chan’s hand on him, even if he tried to convince himself he wasn’t. He could be normal about it. He was normal. 

Before Chan left, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Felix’s forehead in the briefest of kisses, hardly more than a slight brush of the lips. Before Felix had time to process the gesture, Chan was already gone, having slipped out the door and closed it with a soft click. 

For several moments, Felix just sat there in silence as his brain caught up. He blinked once, twice, and then his face was flushing and he was trying—and failing—to hold back a shy giggle. Like a schoolgirl that had just been kissed by a crush, Felix raised his hand to lightly touch the spot where Chan’s skin had touched his own. 

He must have been dreaming, it was all some sick dream conjured up by his sick mind designed to torture Felix and make him go more insane than he supposed he already was. With the gracefulness of a dying swan, Felix flopped into the blankets, ignoring the residual thumping in his head from the night before. A huge smile was on his face and, as cliche as it may have been, Felix was wholly unable to stop himself from kicking his feet against the bed a couple times. 

Fucked. That’s exactly what Felix was. With no way up and out of the predicament he found himself in. 

All he could do was brace himself and hope the inevitable fallout didn’t crush him into dust. 

Things were… better over the next few weeks. Easier. At least easier than they’d been before. 

Chan seemed to be hiding away less and Felix was not one to complain about the sudden influx of his dad’s attention. It confused him, sure, after how distant he’d been the past weeks, how could Felix not be at least a little confused?

But his dad was back in his life and acting like he loved Felix again, so Felix wouldn’t argue or complain or a million other things he could be doing instead. He sank into it, relaxing into the comfort that came with being around Chan after so long of barely being able to see him. It was almost jarring, how fast the switch in moods had been, but Felix would take it. 

He would take anything so long as it meant he could bask in his father’s love for another day. 

Chan had gone so far as to take an extra couple days off from work to make sure Felix was okay—something that definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Felix’s traitorous heart. He hated himself for even thinking it, but there was a part of him that thought it might be worth it to play digestive pyrotechnics again if it kept Chan’s eyes on him, in whatever way it might have been. 

Immediately, Felix shooed that thought out of his head. He couldn’t do that to his dad, Chan didn’t deserve being manipulated like that. 

Not like how he manipulated him into-

Felix couldn’t do that. Not again. Not if it had the consequences it did last time. 

He may have been rapidly spiraling down a rabbit hole of feelings and emotions he was terrified to unpack, but the one thing Felix was afraid of more than anything else was pushing Chan away and losing him the way he should have a month ago. Felix would have to learn to live with things as they were, taking his dad in any way he could. 

Acceptance. 

That’s what Felix had to work on. Accepting that there were some big, scary feelings hidden in his heart that he would never be able to act on, should he want to keep Chan in his life. And accepting that it was okay, that he shouldn’t be greedy—at least, not more than he already was. 

It was easier said than done, but never let it be said that Felix didn’t try. And try he did. He tried so damn hard to be comfortable with the way things were, to be a normal son his dad could be proud of. One that didn’t have strange urges to crawl into his father’s lap and kiss him until they were both dizzy. 

It was so difficult—more so than anything Felix had ever done before, but he had to make it work. There was no other answer for him. 

And so, every time Chan slipped an arm around Felix’s shoulders, gently pulling him into an embrace, Felix had to shove away every notion inside of his mind that told him to get closer. To shove their bodies together until they formed a single entity that could never be separate from its counterpart, and to be eternally entangled together. 

It was Felix’s own personal brand of hell, but he was trying. He would keep things as they were—finally back to something resembling normalcy—even if it killed him in the end. 

“Lix, can you come here for a minute?” Chan’s voice rang out across their house, pulling Felix away from the assignment he was deep in the trenches of trying to finish. 

“Coming!” Felix called back, setting aside the project he was struggling through and wandering through the house to find Chan in one of the design rooms. 

When Felix entered the room, he found Chan standing with his back to the door, nearly up to his knees in fabric scraps and a half-dressed mannequin in front of him. Chan was deep in his element, surrounded by all different types of fabric and colors—completing the look with two different measuring tapes hanging around his neck and a pincushion tied around one wrist. 

Felix knocked gently on the doorframe, causing Chan to turn his way with a smile. The glasses his dad had to start using a couple years ago for up close work sat somewhat askew on the bridge of his nose, the soft brown eyes behind them alight with the fire of a new idea. 

He was so beautiful that it made Felix’s heart hurt. 

“What do you need help with?” Felix asked curiously, stomping down on the rising feeling in his chest that threatened to spread into his lungs and choke him. 

Chan waved an absentminded hand at the mannequin wearing half of a patchwork skirt. “Needed your opinion on this—or how it’s coming together, at least. Do you think it needs anything more?”

Asking Felix’s opinion on designs wasn’t anything new, but Felix couldn’t help the rush of pride that welled in his chest at his dad wanting to know if he had any feedback on it. He stepped farther into the room and took a few moments to look over what Chan had put together already. 

Despite being rather busy in the color scheme, the skirt seemed to come together well, simple in its pattern once Felix looked at it for a few seconds. It was lovely, just like everything else Chan had ever made, save for some of his designs that he was confident in and therefore never saw the light of day. But to Felix, everything his dad made was spectacular, even if Chan himself didn’t think so. 

“I think it’s really good so far,” Felix answered after a few moments of looking at the skirt. A second later, he added with a chuckle, “But I’m a little biased, don’t you think?”

Chan shrugged, glancing back at Felix from where he stood next to the mannequin. “Maybe, but I also know you have an eye for these things and won’t lie if I ask for your opinion.”

While that particular bit was true, there was no way for Chan to know just how much Felix had lied to him. Felix lied every time he told himself he could be happy with the way things were, that he didn’t need anything else and the warmth in his chest every time he looked at Chan was nothing more than nerves or a hatred for himself. There were lies in every smile he gave his dad, in each time they touched and Felix managed to assuage the flood of desire that told him to move in closer and take until there was nothing left of either of them. 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Felix forced out a laugh he hoped didn’t sound as hollow to Chan as it did to his own ears. And then, before he could think better of it, his mouth was opening to ask, “Is it alright if I bring my stuff for my assignment in and finish it in here?”

“Whatever you want, Lix,” Chan replied with an easy smile. “I’ll be here all night.”

It was pathetic, really, how quickly Felix jumped at the chance to spend time in the same vicinity as his dad, but he wasn’t above admitting how weak he was for any specks of Chan’s attention. Felix muttered out something that sounded like, “Thank you,” before he was scurrying back to his room to collect his laptop and sketchbook. 

He gathered his things and headed back down to the design room Chan was in, setting up on the couch in the corner of the room. There was a pile of fabric scraps on the couch that Felix pushed aside before tucking himself in next to it, folding his knees up and carefully balancing his laptop on top of them. Chan had already gone back to the half-dressed mannequin, pins sticking out of the colored fabric. There were little chalk marks along some of the lines and some chalk dust had made its way into Chan’s hair, lightening some spots into the grey that had come in at his temples. 

Now that Felix was thinking of it, volunteering to work on his project in the same room as Chan was a stupid, dumb idea. How was Felix supposed to focus on anything else besides his dad working only a short distance away?

But, just as with everything else, Felix had gotten himself into this and wouldn’t be backing out. He could get work done with Chan looking so delectable and capable in front of him. There was no reason for Felix’s heart to beat any faster while he took a second to watch Chan’s nimble fingers pin another piece of fabric into place. And there was certainly no reason for his brain to begin speculating how those fingers would feel inside him—mouth or ass, Felix wasn’t entirely particular. 

The thoughts had been getting harder to stop as of late—more so than usual. Felix was trying to accept them as a part of himself, however shameful they may have been, and accept that he would never be able to do anything about them. Not unless he was feeling particularly risky and insane one day. 

Felix softly huffed to himself and opened his laptop, determined to get something done while he was sitting there. 

It took some trying and redirecting his attention back to his assignment a handful of times—or maybe, a dozen or so—but eventually, Felix finished what he had been working on. Enough at least, that he could set his laptop to the side and watch his dad work. 

And, as long as Chan was going to be occupied for a while longer, Felix figured he could get some more practice in. He opened his sketchbook to a blank page and pulled out the pencil he’d brought with and started drawing out a rough sketch of the scene before him. Felix’s pencil glided over the paper, immortalizing his dad hard at work with each light flick of his wrist. 

Felix had stopped being horrified that everything he’d drawn using Chan as a model—knowingly and unknowingly—was better than all of his other works. And this one was no exception. The drawing Felix had created, though not to the level of detail as the one he’d turned in for his assignment a month and some back, was still better than the majority of the other works he’d created. The only ones that surpassed it were those of Chan in the nude, looking devastating bathed in nothing but sunlight and the skin he was born in. 

The image had been burned into Felix’s brain and he almost regretted not taking a picture of it so he could have the reminder always, the proof that it had really happened and wasn’t just something Felix had dreamed up in a daze. 

The drawing stared back at him, a pretty picture of Chan working away, seemingly none the wiser to Felix studying every movement and sketching it down. Felix was trying to accept himself and the insanity that had taken over, but that didn’t stop the bit of self-loathing scratching away at the back of his mind over how fucking easy it was to draw his father. It hurt to know these little glimpses would be all Felix would ever be able to have, though he was trying to be at peace with that. He was trying so hard. 

Felix set his sketchbook aside after scribbling a little date in one corner and flipping the cover shut. He leaned against the arm of the couch and settled for just watching Chan work. It had always been one of his favorite things from the time he was young and he didn’t think that would ever change in a million years. 

The way Chan moved as he worked, an intricate dance of feet and fingers that entranced Felix, pulling him in to watch as his dad created something beautiful from a heap of scraps and pins. The glow from the lamp above shone in his hair, making his curls light up like a swirly halo around his head. A little scrunch formed between Chan’s brows as he pinned two more pieces of fabric together near the top of the skirt, his full lips thinning into a line of concentration. 

Once again, Felix was hit with the thought that his dad was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. 

Felix loved him so damn much. 

It was an easy jump from familial love to romantic, at least in Felix’s eyes. He wasn’t sure he’d ever truly felt anything just familial for his dad—from the time he was young, his whole world centered around Chan. It always had. He was Felix’s favorite person, the epicenter of the implosion of everything Felix had known and the cornerstone of something new and gorgeous and devastating, all the same. 

The conclusion was one that Felix had known was simmering under his skin and waiting for the right moment to strike, to tilt his world on its head with its full actualization. But really, it wasn’t much of a surprise, was it? Felix had never been normal about Chan, this had just been the final straw in pushing him to understand how abnormal he had always felt when it came to his father. 

But there, on that couch in his dad’s design room, was not the place to have a meltdown over it. With the emotional turmoil Felix had been wading through the past couple months, having the realization cemented in his mind felt like a breath of fresh air. Felix sunk into the feeling and watched Chan work, the feeling of adoration buzzing pleasantly in his body. 

Some time later, Chan turned toward him and gestured to the mannequin that now had a completed skirt around its waist. “What do you think, Lix?”

“It looks lovely, Dad,” Felix answered with a thumbs up before covering his mouth with the same hand as a yawn escaped him. 

“Aww, it’s getting late for my sleepy boy, huh?” Chan crossed the space between them to ruffle Felix’s hair lightly. “I’ll take a break for tonight and make up some quick supper before sending you off to bed, yeah?”

Felix blinked once before nodding a couple times. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he moved his stuff into the design room, but he was definitely tired by now. 

He would blame it on the sleepy brain—even if he wasn’t too sleepy yet—when he raised his arms and made tiny grabby hands at his dad. “Movie in your room? In case I fall asleep after eating?”

For the briefest of moments, Felix was terrified he had gone too far again and done something that would make his dad pull away again. But then Chan was giving him a smile filled with such fondness Felix could feel it in his bones and leaning down to scoop him up into his secure arms. 

“Whatever you’d like, little one.” A featherlight kiss was dropped onto Felix’s forehead. That was something that had been happening more often since his digestive pyrotechnics, too. 

And this time, when a blush crept across Felix’s face, he didn’t try to stop it. 

Felix was the happiest he’d ever been. 

The gradual acceptance of his feelings for his father had settled completely, nestling away into his chest and filling his heart up to the brim. Felix still struggled with accepting those newly realized feelings and the fact he could never be more than what he currently was with Chan. But there were good days, now more of them than bad. No longer was he shying away from contact with his dad, instead leaning into it and letting the warmth of Chan’s hands spread through his body deliciously. 

Chan had been staying home more, too, electing to work in one of his design rooms at home instead of scurrying off to his studio an hour after dawn. He’d been taking care of Felix more, like he would when Felix was a child, making more meals for the both of them and clearing more time to watch movies and shows together. Sometimes when Felix would come home from class for the day, expecting the house to be empty, he would walk in and hear the sounds of Chan in the kitchen, smell the aromaof food on the stove. 

Those days were always his favorites. The days when Chan was a bit more soft with him, would feed Felix and wrap him up in his arms while they watched a movie after supper. 

If Felix could suspend his disbelief enough, he could almost pretend they were snuggled together for a different reason, one aside from Chan just trying to be a good parent. In that other world, there was no blood lineage tying them together—just love, pure and true. Chan would make for such a good lover, he wouldn’t push Felix to do anything before he was ready and would be so achingly gentle when handling him. He would be the perfect match for everything Felix was. 

And in those quiet moments, the ones where Felix wondered about what life would be like had they not been related, he couldn’t help but wonder if Chan felt the same?

Felix knew it was a long shot, that it had to just be his own delusions making him feel like this, like he had any chance of being anything more than a son to his father. But still, there were moments when Felix was drifting off to sleep and he caught Chan staring at him with such love and abounding fondness that Felix couldn’t help but… wonder. 

It was a Thursday when it all came crashing down again. 

It seemed fitting that the same day of the week that started all of Felix’s trouble was also the one that held the inevitable fallout two and a half months later. There was only so long Felix could have gone before all his awful feelings came to light. 

He knew this, but it still didn’t stop the hurt when it happened. 

Felix had been working on an assignment—another drawing one for the final project of that awful class that had got him into this whole mess in the first place. He was struggling through an attempt at sketching one of the designs he’d had stuck in his head for so long, only to come up with something that wasn’t terrible, but most likely wasn’t enough to get him the high grade he coveted so much. 

He knew what he could do, brave the awkwardness and the fear of his dad blocking him out once again and ask Chan to model for him, yet Felix stopped those thoughts in their tracks as soon as he had them. He couldn’t risk losing the delicate balance they’d found, where Chan was doting and even more lovely than usual, and Felix greedily ate up every bit of his affection. If Felix lost this side of his dad now, after seeing how bright and wonderful life could be with his warmth shining down on him, he didn’t think he could ever recover. 

After long hours of struggling through drawing, Felix managed to come up with something presentable. He’d put his blood, sweat, and tears into this drawing, making everything as perfect as he possibly could. It was easily the best thing he’d created without Chan as a model and Felix couldn’t help but feel pride rising in his chest as he looked it over. 

That high grade was his, it had to be. 

Felix had spent hours on it, the crick in his bones between his shoulder blades and the base of his neck was proof enough. It was the best he could have done without risking the new and improved relationship that pulled them closer than they’d ever been prior.

With a sigh, Felix stretched his arms, rolling his neck to the side and back and groaning when his bones popped. All he had left to do was show his dad and get his opinion on it before packing it up to turn in the next week in class. 

Chan had always been critical of Felix’s art, but Felix knew it was just because his dad wanted him to be better. It didn’t stop the tiny bit of hope from swirling in his chest that maybe this time, Chan wouldn’t have anything critical to say about it. He knew it was a long shot, but he hoped nonetheless. 

Felix scooped up the paper that held his drawing and wandered through the house looking for Chan, finally finding him in the downstairs design room that he’d been working in more often than not nowadays. 

As he always seemed to be, Chan was surrounded by his mountains of fabric, a mannequin in the center of the room that was dressed in the makings of another half-finished design. Chan was facing the door, pincushion secured around his wrist and a look of concentration scribbled across the lines of his face. He looked so invested in his work that Felix almost turned and left, ready to show off his work later, but then Chan glanced up from where he was marking the fabric with a piece of chalk. 

“Hey, Lix,” Chan spoke up first, an easy smile sliding over his face. 

Felix was helpless to do anything except stand there and smile back, his heart ramping up in his chest at the expression on his father’s face, coupled with the underlying anxiety that seemed to always be prevalent when he showed Chan his works. He shuffled his feet a little as he made his way further into the room, stopping just shy of a half folded piece of sky blue fabric. 

“Hi, Dad,” Felix started, hating himself only a bit for how unsure he sounded. “I finished one of the projects I was working on and wanted to show you, if that’s okay?”

Chan’s smile only widened and Felix let himself hope that was a good sign, an omen that he was grossly overthinking what his dad would say. 

“Of course, let me just finish up with this piece and I’ll take a look at it,” Chan answered, marking off another section of the fabric as he did so. 

“Alright.” Felix made his way over to the couch he’d nearly fallen asleep on a week or so ago and settled in to watch his dad work. 

It didn’t take long for Chan to finish with the piece he was working on, setting his things aside and heading over to join Felix on the couch. He plopped down next to Felix and held a hand out for the paper Felix still held onto. 

“All done,” Chan announced with a soft smile. 

Only trembling slightly, Felix handed his drawing over for his dad to look at. “Here, I don’t think it’s too bad.”

Chan nodded and took the paper, holding it gently as he looked it over. For several long moments, he didn’t say a thing. Felix watched with bated breath, his hope dwindling the longer Chan went without speaking. But the flicker of it was still there, lighting up his chest and begging for Chan to just encourage him, tell him it looks nice and that Felix did a good job. 

That Felix was worthy of his love—worthy of all the kindness Chan had been showing him the past weeks. 

Another minute passed and eventually Chan spoke up. “It’s not terrible, but it could be better if you want a higher grade on it.”

And the spark of hope in Felix’s chest was extinguished, snuffed out by an ocean of disappointment and hurt. 

He didn’t know why he had thought this time would be different, why the time they’d spent together might have changed anything. At the end of the day, it hadn’t changed anything for Chan, only for Felix. He was the only one whose opinion and worldview had shifted during the time they had been dancing around each other. 

Chan was the same as he’d always been, all the thoughts Felix had been having about his father looking at him differently were nothing more than delusions—puffs of smoke floating away on the wind. 

Even though he’d been worried about this result, the hope that had sprouted in his chest unbidden suddenly turned sour. Felix couldn’t help wishing for a more positive answer from his dad—it was the thing he wanted most in the world—but maybe that was his fault. It always was. 

He felt like he’d been run clean through with a knife, gutted so perfectly that there was nothing of substance left behind. There was nothing else he could do, Felix had finally made something of his very own that he was proud of, just to receive another less-than-stellar report from Chan. Getting his chest stomped on until his bones broke and his ribs caved in would hurt less than the hurricane of emotions ripping through him, Felix was sure of it. 

Felix didn’t know tears had welled up in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks in little rivulets, until there was a hand gently wiping them away. 

“Felix? What’s wrong?” Chan’s soft voice sounded from somewhere beside Felix, sounding so sweet and caring—as if he wasn’t the reason Felix was crying in the first place. 

Without thinking, Felix slapped away the hand next to his face. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

The hurt noise Chan made in response to Felix forcefully pushing his hand away wriggled into Felix’s brain and left him unsure of whether he should apologize or double down on the hurt swirling in his chest. 

“Felix…?” Came the gentle question from Chan, vowels as unsure as the consonants, and despite everything, Felix almost wanted to laugh. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Felix asked around an incredulous snuffle. “All- all I’ve ever wanted to do was make you proud of me, to be the best I could for you. And nothing I do is good enough or worthy enough of anything more than a backhanded compliment!”

Through the blur in his eyes, Felix could see the look on Chan’s face morph from confusion to something like understanding. But how could he understand? How could he just sit there and nod and act like he had any idea what he’d put Felix through?

While Chan had never been abusive—far from it—there was still a special kind of pain that being an eternal disappointment brought. Something that couldn’t just be undone with a plate of fruit and an apology, not anymore. 

“Lix, I- I’m-” Chan started helplessly, only to be cut off by Felix, who was feeling the hurt burn brighter with every moment that passed. 

“Don’t. Don’t say you’re sorry. You always apologize and then do it all over again the next time I have another assignment! Do you know how much that hurts?” Felix said, his voice cracking as more tears welled up in his eyes. He looked away from his dad and wrapped his arms around himself, unable to stare any longer at the face he’d wrapped up in a twisted sense of love. “I tried-… I tried so hard to be good, to be the best so I could make you proud. But nothing- nothing is ever good enough for you—I’ll never be enough to make you proud. And it hurts. It hurts so badly knowing that I’ll never be what you want.”

Silence stretched between them, hanging heavy and fragile, all the same. Like a huge crystal chandelier that was a single chain link away from tumbling down and crushing Felix under its weight. 

The cracking of his heart was a visceral thing, the more time passed without a word from Chan, the more certain Felix’s doom was. He tried but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. His feelings had become even more volatile once Felix had realized just how deep they went—and how long they’d been there. There was so much raging inside him, so much he’d been holding in for what felt like forever bubbling up, up, up-

“Little one… I-”

Felix’s body moved on its own when he heard that pet name, that pretty name that was everything Felix loved and hated rolled into one. Without a second thought, he surged forward and pressed his lips to Chan’s. 

It was less of a kiss and more of an uncoordinated shove of Felix’s mouth against Chan’s unmoving one. His dad’s lips stayed still and for a split second, Felix felt that plush mouth move against his own before he was ripping himself away, heart racing and filled to the brim with shame. 

A sob wrenched its way out of Felix’s chest anew, the most painful one yet, and he smacked a horrified hand over his mouth. He couldn’t believe what he’d done, the awful, treacherous act that would ruin their relationship forever. Chan would hate him—he had to hate him now. Felix hated himself, wanted to curse himself out for his stupidity and the way he acted so carelessly with what was left of his busted-up heart. 

Felix couldn’t look at his father, couldn’t bear to see the horror and disappointment on Chan’s face that surely matched Felix’s own. 

“I- I-I’m so sorry,” was all Felix could stutter out before he was lunching himself off the couch and out of that accursed design room, up the stairs into the safety of his own bedroom. 

It was only when he had locked his bedroom door behind him and had launched himself under his mountain of blankets that Felix let himself break down fully. He sobbed hard enough to rattle his ribs, his head pounding harder and his lungs burning more with every cry that ripped its way out of him. 

He had been stupid—so dreadfully stupid. Felix didn’t know what had come over him to act like that, to throw everything he’d been working for away for a single moment of weakness. 

Things would never be the same. Everything had changed because Felix had been stupid and dumb and reckless and had acted on instinct instead of reining himself in the way he should have. His dad hated him now, he had to. Felix hated himself, there was no way Chan didn’t share the sentiment. 

Their relationship was ruined and Felix had lost the one person he didn’t think he could survive without. 

Felix cried and wept and bawled until there was nothing left for him to give, eventually falling asleep still huddled under his blankets. 

This time around was harder. 

Felix woke up the next morning—or maybe it was afternoon, he didn’t really know, nor did he care. His eyes had nearly crusted themselves permanently shut during the night and opening them took a Herculean effort that Felix somehow mustered together. He rubbed the heels of his palms over his eyes, ridding them of the dusties that had built up while he slept. 

From there, Felix made no move to get out of bed, staying huddled beneath the mountain of blankets in the same position he’d been in since the night prior. His head hurt and the light streaming in from the gaps in the blinds over his bedroom window made his eyes burn. So Felix closed them once more and let the comforting darkness wash over him. 

Maybe if he squeezed his sore eyes shut hard enough, he’d wake up to find everything that had happened last night was no more than the worst nightmare his mind had ever conjured. 

But when Felix opened his eyes again sometime later, everything was still as it was. Felix’s eyes still hurt and his chest still felt like it was caving in on itself. 

He couldn’t bring himself to fully think about what had happened—what he had done—the previous night. But Felix couldn’t escape it, either. It was all he could think about, the only thing circling inside his brain was a constant loop of him snapping at Chan and then his thoughts blanking out as he surged forward to press their lips together. 

As brief as it had been, Felix couldn’t get the feeling of Chan’s lips on his own out of his mind. There was the stunned silence leaking into the moment, overwhelmed by pillowy softness and the whisper of hot breath that pushed into Felix’s mouth. 

Felix knew that no matter how long he lived for, he would never be able to forget that moment—he never wanted to forget it, either. It was the one and only time that would happen and Felix wanted to etch it into his memory to remind him that it actually had happened. He would have loved a physical reminder of the singular moment, something that he could grasp and hold onto with all his might, but the glimpses in his brain and the ache in his heart would have to suffice, instead. 

It would take years to heal from the falling out, if Felix eventually managed to piece himself back together. Even if he did manage that, he didn’t think he would ever fully be healed—Chan was too ingrained into Felix for him to fully be able to exist apart from his father. 

Felix stayed in bed as long as he could manage before hauling himself up and into his bathroom. The shower was turned on and Felix curled up in the corner of the stall, letting the water rush over him until his skin went numb. He didn’t know where he should go from here. There was no way his dad would ever forgive him for doing something so heinous—so irredeemable. 

Felix should probably ask one of his friends if he could bunk with them for a while until he figured out what the hell his next steps were. The thought of continuing to live here, being a burden on his father more than ever, was solidly out of the question. Leaving only added to the hurt inside Felix’s heart, but he didn’t want to make things worse for Chan. 

By the time he shut the water off, Felix was hardly more than a pruny mess, although at least he had made up his mind about what he should do next. 

He stumbled around his bathroom, drying off with a towel and rubbing lotion into his skin and trying not to cry again. When Felix wobbled back into his bedroom that connected with his bathroom, he was feeling properly lightheaded—something he just chalked up to all the crying. He felt like he could drink a whole lake, but getting water would require leaving his room and possibly running into Chan long before he was ready. His headache and dry throat could wait a little longer. 

Felix collapsed onto his bed, tugging one of his blankets back over his body, content to fade back into sleep until everything felt a little less damning. 

A hesitant knock sounded at his door, followed by a voice that was equally unsure. “Felix? I know-… I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I wanted to make sure you’ve eaten something today. I’ve left some food by the door so you can eat in your room if you don’t want to see me right now. This might not mean much to you right now, but I’m here if you need me and I’m sorry for everything, from the bottom of my heart. And… I love you, I really do. More than the sun and the moon and all the stars in the great, big sky.”

It was quiet after that, the sound of Chan’s footsteps padding away from the door fading after a second. 

Despite everything, all the terrible feelings in Felix’s heart, his eyes welled up hearing Chan’s words. He stayed there, unmoving on his bed and trying desperately not to cry again, for another minute before hauling himself up on shaky legs to trudge over to his bedroom door. 

He opened it to find a neat little tray sitting on the floor next to the door, holding a glass each of water and orange juice, a bowl of fruit and chocolate chip pancakes with a syrup smiley face on them. With shaky hands, Felix reached down to pick up the tray, carrying it into his room and shutting the door behind him with a nudge of his hip. He didn’t bother going back to lock it once he had settled back on his bed. 

The tears were falling freely when he laid the tray over his lap, a sob escaping him. It was a tiny, ugly thing, but it was the most visceral reaction he’d ever had. 

He hadn’t heard those words his dad said to him in so long, not since he was much younger and more grand displays of affection were more common between them. Felix didn’t know if he would ever hear those words again, but the fact they showed up now of all times seemed to hurt so much more. The fact his dad still cared after Felix had done something so heinous, the fact he took the time to make sure Felix ate something and then reassured him that he was still loved in spite of everything was more than Felix ever deserved. 

His chest hurt as more sobs ripped their way out of him, Felix’s throat already worn raw from the crying he had done hours earlier. But he couldn’t stop them or the raging torrent of emotions swirling in him once again. There was pain and hurt there, yet also an overwhelming amount of love spreading throughout his chest, and the hope that maybe—if Felix dared to hope—things might work out somehow. 

It took some time, but eventually, Felix was able to calm down, his cries turning into soft sniffles after a few minutes. He wiped at his face with one hand, not caring about how gross he was making his blankets or the sleeve of his pajama shirt. Laundry could be done later, when he wasn’t feeling like a lone rowboat on a turbulent sea. 

Still sniffly and teary-eyed, Felix picked up the utensils Chan had left atop a napkin next to the plate of pancakes and started eating. It took everything inside him not to cry all over again two bites in when he thought about how well Chan always took care of him, even when Felix had let him down so much—had crossed every boundary that should never even be toed between a parent and child. 

Felix loved him. He loved his dad so much it hurt, that love combining with the disappointment in himself to create something new and terrible that burned away in his chest. Long gone was the anger from the day before, and all that was left in its place was disappointment and a void in the space where his heart was. The only thing that could fill the emptiness and chase away the pain was the one thing he couldn’t have, the only person that would never dare to look at Felix the same way. 

Because Chan was better than him, wasn’t he? He was the best parent Felix could have ever asked for, but there was no chance he would ever become as sick as Felix had found himself to be over the past months. Even if he still loved Felix, it wasn’t in the way Felix loved Chan. It was unfair of Felix to hope, to even wish that he might feel the same, that whatever sickness was inside Felix would spread to his father so Felix could finally receive the love he’d always been craving. 

He’d realized it now—Felix wouldn’t be truly happy without his dad in his life, being as close to him as possible in every way. Felix always had been greedy when it came to Chan’s affections. 

The sniffles kept coming as he ate, and Felix tried desperately to keep the stray tear here and there from making its way into his food. He had mostly stopped by the time his tray was empty, the pancakes, fruit, and both glasses of orange juice and water downed. 

Felix trudged back to his door and opened it, leaving the tray in the spot where Chan had left it earlier. He wanted to run right downstairs and collapse into his dad’s arms the way he had done so many times before, but he just couldn’t. Not yet. 

The door closed behind Felix and yet again, he didn’t bother to flick the lock into place. There was no point. Felix couldn’t bear to keep his father out, even if he tried, even if he wanted to. 

He toddled back to bed, exhausted, despite only having been awake for a couple hours. And when Felix fell asleep once more, there was nothing waiting for him except the black sea that carried him away into oblivion. 

Felix didn’t leave his room for another two days. 

He stayed in bed, mostly. Sometimes he’d get up and lug himself into the bathroom for a shower or over to his desk to do some last minute cramming for the upcoming week so he wouldn’t be caught unawares by any of the questions on the exams he was taking. He had a couple more weeks to stress over most of his classes, but there were two finishing up this week that he still had to worry about. They were easy, so Felix didn’t do any more studying than was actually necessary. 

Chan still left him trays of food outside his door, but never tried to say anything after that first day. Felix figured his dad just wanted to give him extra space—a realization that continued to make Felix’s chest hurt every time he thought about it. 

Things hadn’t gotten any easier than before and Felix was still trying to figure out how to deal with what had happened and how he could possibly broach that delicate subject. He just didn’t know what he could say that would even begin to heal what had broken between them. An apology might seem hollow, or an admission of guilt over his true feelings might just make everything worse. 

It was safer for Felix to stay away from Chan, at the very least for the time being. And it was safer for Chan to be away from Felix, there was less chance for him to end up so screwed up the way Felix had become. 

Tuesday brought around the final for the class that had gotten Felix into this mess in the first place and he was more than glad to finally be rid of having to show up for that class every week. He managed to evade his dad when leaving, slipping out the door before Chan had a chance to track Felix down. Not that Felix thought Chan would do something like that, he had been nothing if not horribly respectful of Felix’s space, never pushing him to speak before he was ready and never overstepping a boundary that Felix set up. 

The exam and handing in of his final drawing went well—at least, he felt like it did, Felix’s brain was halfway on another planet the whole time. He tried to focus, he really did. It was just difficult with the weight of what he’d done hanging over him, the fear of what would happen when he finally did face his dad once again. 

Felix made his way back home after finishing up with his classes. When he handed in the drawing he’d created, his professor looked surprised—an expression Felix could only hope meant that he would receive a passing grade. He really was proud of that creation and just hoped the professor would see the dedication Felix put into it. 

One step onto the porch and Felix hesitated to go any farther. His dad’s car was in the driveway, as it had been so often over the past weeks. Usually the sight filled Felix with happiness at the knowledge that Chan was home and he would be there, waiting with a smile and ready to hear about Felix’s day. But now, it did nothing but spark a crippling anxiety between Felix’s ribs. 

He couldn’t face his dad yet. He wasn’t ready. 

Felix took a deep breath before pulling out his key to unlock the door, pushing it open with a hand he was trying so desperately to keep from trembling. He shuffled inside, taking his shoes off near the doorway and placing them on the rack that held their everyday footwear. 

Chan didn’t seem to be anywhere on the first floor, probably hidden away from Felix in his favorite design room. Felix understood, he would have wanted to hide away from himself if he could, too. He knew Chan was just staying away because that’s what Felix had made clear that he wanted, not truly hiding away. Chan had made it clear enough that he wasn’t hiding, not this time, though Felix couldn’t understand why. 

Felix scurried through the house and right back up to his room, not allowing for any possibility of running into his dad. A sigh of relief was breathed out when the door clicked shut behind him and for a moment, Felix just leaned back against the cool wood, his eyes sliding shut. He took a couple seconds to breathe before pushing off the door and setting his stuff on his desk, not caring much how his things landed. His laptop was put gently on the surface, but everything else didn’t matter much at the moment. 

Turning around with every intent to dive right back between his blankets, Felix stopped dead in his tracks when he finally caught sight of his bed. 

The blankets and sheets he’d been wallowing in the past days had been exchanged out for clean ones, fresh pillow cases covering the pillows arranged neatly on top of a perfectly made bed. Felix’s heart caught in his throat. This is what Chan had been doing while Felix was out taking his exam. He was respecting Felix’s desire for space and yet taking care of him from the shadows in the way only his dad knew how. 

All this time, even though Felix hadn’t been perfect, Chan had done the best he could. He still loved Felix even when Felix had taken that love for granted and almost ruined their relationship with his own feelings. Instead of shunning Felix like he deserved, Chan had given him space, made him home cooked meals to ensure he ate everyday, and cleaned up after every one of Felix’s messes. 

Chan loved him. He really, truly did. 

Felix hardly realized what he was doing before he was throwing the door open and nearly flinging himself down the stairs, tears rapidly gathering in his eyes. Even though his vision was blurry, he knew the way, could have run down to Chan’s studio with his eyes closed. His socked feet slipped just slightly from how fast he was running when he rounded the corner into the hallway that led to his dad’s favorite design room but it wasn’t nearly enough to keep him from his mission. 

He made it to the closed door that stood between him and his dad and didn’t even think about any of the consequences as he threw it open, too. 

There Chan was, sitting there on that couch in the corner, sketchbook in hand, and looking bewildered when Felix burst into the room like there was no tomorrow. Felix hadn’t seen his dad in days and just the sight of him alone was enough to make the tears come faster, his heart flipping violently in his chest. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the silence between them heavy enough to crush Felix under the weight of it. 

And then all at once, Felix was letting out a sob at the same time Chan’s face was crumpling and opening his arms for Felix to fall into. Felix stumbled into the room, taking one step, two steps, three before he was diving into his dad’s arms, the force of it enough to knock them both back onto the couch. As he always did, Chan caught him and held him securely in his strong arms, letting Felix dissolve into a lump of tears and sniffles. 

Felix couldn’t get close enough, balling his hands into fists in his dad’s shirt and tugging himself nearer, until the only way he could get closer would be to crawl under Chan’s skin. Which, admittedly, sounded like heaven to Felix—it always had. He couldn’t stop the tears, the torrential force of them ripping through him and making a mess of Chan’s shirt. Felix would have felt bad, had his only focus not been on Chan all around him, warm and real and there. 

“My sweet boy,” Chan murmured as Felix cried even harder. “I’ve got you, little one.”

The words rang clearly through his mind, echoes of another time; something hazy and fuzzy and dreamlike, a moment Felix wasn’t sure at all was true. He’d had a dream of Chan promising something similar the night he got drunk and cried to his dad—a mirror of the current moment, yet different in the little things. The way Chan’s hand laid heavy in his hair, or the way his breath shook in his chest under Felix’s ear. 

Felix coughed once, unglamorous and wet, and Chan just held onto him tighter, as though he were afraid Felix might slip away into curls of smoke. Not that he would ever leave, there was nothing for Felix outside of the safety of his dad’s firm grip and the unending comfort he brought with him. Felix had no reason to leave because everything he’d ever needed—ever wanted—was right there underneath him, holding him together while Felix threatened to crack right into pieces. 

“I’m here, baby. I’ll never leave you, I promise.” Another whisper of a dream Felix had had in days gone past and the flicker of a different night, holding the same promise as the one Chan made now, flitted through his mind’s eye. 

Only this time, Felix believed him. 

The hand on his back drew tiny circles, lightly patting him a couple times while Felix slowly felt himself begin to come back down to earth. There was no room in his heart for mortification at how he had behaved, there wasn’t room for anything aside from the love in his heart and the overwhelming relief that his dad hadn’t immediately shunned him, despite how caring he had been the past days. 

“There we go, keep breathing for me, little one. That’s it, my best boy.” Chan’s gentle reassurance guided Felix into his body again, steadying him with his calm presence. There was no stopping the warmth that spread through Felix’s chest, either, from the way Chan was speaking to him—like he was something fragile and precious that might crack if Chan said the wrong thing. 

Truthfully, that assumption wasn’t far off. If Chan had decided not to open his arms for Felix to take as he wished, Felix would have splintered right into a million tiny pieces, the weight of rejection being too much to bear. But his dad hadn’t done that. He had let Felix fall into him and take and take and take to his greedy little heart’s content. 

Felix would never deserve the kind of love Chan gave him, not in a thousand lifetimes. 

He sniffled again, coughing into his dad’s shoulder once or twice more and mumbling out an apology that was immediately rebuffed with another reminder that Felix was okay, and Chan didn’t mind, even if he should. 

After a couple minutes more, Felix had calmed down completely, content to stay right where he was for the rest of his life. Truly, there wasn’t much more he needed in this world aside from his dad’s love and the warmth of his embrace. 

But, as was the way of all good things, it eventually came to an end, Chan being the first one to break the silence. “Felix?”

His tone was more serious than Felix had heard in such a long time and despite himself, he felt his heart freeze over with anxiety in a split second. He hummed softly by way of answer, already steeling himself for the inevitable rejection. It was too good to be true, it had to be. There was no way Felix would find himself escaping unscathed from whatever Chan had to say next. 

A light tap to his back and then a softer, “Can you look at me please? I need to see your face, little one.”

Felix took a deep breath before shifting his head to look up at his father, entirely not expecting to see the open expression on his face. Chan was watching him with wide brown eyes that made him seem so much younger than he was, the picture of vulnerability that Felix had never been witness to before. The light freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose were just visible from this angle and Felix wanted to cry all over again at how painfully beautiful his father was. 

Upon meeting his gaze, Chan’s eyes softened further and the hand that had taken residence in Felix’s hair slid down to carefully cup his cheek. 

“Is… is this something you want? I won’t be upset with you, but I need to know, Lix. Please,” Chan asked, soft and earnest and almost pleading all at the same time. 

As if Felix could ever imagine wanting another person as long as he lived. There would never be anyone else for him that wasn’t Chan. It wasn’t in his programming, loving Chan was so entwined in his DNA that Felix didn’t think there was a world where he could exist without his dad there beside him. 

So, Felix took a deep breath and slowly nodded, his voice wobbling just slightly as he answered, “More than anything. You’re all I want.”

The smile that overtook Chan’s face, so gentle and pure, would always live inside Felix’s mind as the prettiest sight he’d ever seen. His thumb stroked over the top of Felix’s cheek, the touch feeling almost reverent, one that Felix wanted to lose himself in—to dive into that feeling and never come up for air. 

“Well,” Chan murmured after a moment of studying Felix with his gaze, “what my baby wants, he gets.”

And before Felix could even think to answer, Chan was leaning in and pressing their lips together. 

It wasn’t some grand thing that left fireworks bursting behind Felix’s eyes, but instead it was the comfort of finding oneself with the person who knew them better than anyone else in the whole world. The feeling of a fuzzy blanket on a rainy day and the warmth of the sun on one’s face after a long winter. That’s what kissing Chan felt like—every comforting feeling in the world multiplied a thousand times over. 

Safety. Care. And most of all, an unbridled adoration Felix could only hope to match one day. 

With the might of a god from a myth, Felix pulled himself away from Chan’s lips enough to look him in the eye. 

“You love me.”

It wasn’t a question, only a statement of something Felix had missed for entirely too long. He didn’t know how it had gone unnoticed for as much time as it did, but now Chan’s love was staring him right in the face and Felix was helpless to do anything except give in, the way he’d been wanting to for so long. 

Even though Felix’s words weren’t a question, Chan answered as if they were anyway, with that same smile that was everything Felix ever needed and more.

“I do, baby. So much.”

It was enough for Felix to feel his eyes begin to well up all over again. He knew it was true and that his dad loved him, but he needed more. Needed to hear it over and over, holding onto each confession with the kind of greed that would put dragons to shame, until his ears went numb and language stopped making sense. Even then, he’d still crave the words like air. 

“Take me to bed and tell me again. Please,” Felix spoke barely above a whisper, scared that if he spoke even a decibel too loud that the spell might be broken and he would wake up from the dream he had found himself in. 

Ever so gently, Chan tucked Felix’s hair behind his ear and nodded once, twice, each time adding more fuel to the flame of hope that was flickering back to life in Felix’s heart. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Felix held on tightly to Chan as he was lifted into his arms, feeling all over again like a little kid that was getting carried up to his room after a long day at the beach. Only he wasn’t so little anymore and it wasn’t his room he was getting carried to. But maybe it could become his room too if Chan finished with him and decided he didn’t regret his initial decision. Felix desperately hoped that wouldn’t be the case. He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if Chan changed his mind afterward. 

The soft click of a door could be heard as Chan opened his bedroom door and closed it again behind them, Felix keeping a tight hold on his dad when Chan tried to set him down. 

“We’re here, Lix,” Chan said, delivering a light pat to Felix’s ass. 

Felix just shook his head petulantly and tucked his face closer into Chan’s neck. “Don’t wanna let go. Don’t want you to change your mind.”

He hadn’t meant for that part to slip out, but it had and Felix couldn’t stop the way he tensed ever so slightly. A strike of fear shot through his heart at the thought that his words might have been enough for Chan to rethink everything. Yet instead, he felt Chan huff out a soft laugh before sitting them both down on the bed, Felix’s legs still wrapped tightly around his dad’s waist and his arms wound behind his neck. 

“Okay, my little one doesn’t want to let go yet? He doesn’t have to, I’ll be here as long as you need.” The hand over Felix’s ass lightly patted him once more and slowly moved to rub tiny shapes into his back, up along his spine and over the expanse between his shoulder blades. 

His words alone were enough for Felix to let out a tiny whimper as he held the back of Chan’s shirt in his fists. “Daddy…”

“It’s okay, I’m right here. Daddy’s got you, sweetheart.” And those words pulled a shiver from the depths of Felix’s soul that reverberated through his bones and up to his skin, erupting in full body goosebumps. 

It was all he’d ever hoped for, just to be needed—to be wanted—and held so close that Felix felt like they could merge into a single entity if he just tried hard enough. His father was here and he was keeping Felix near and not making any move to push him away. Felix could die happily right then and there, burrowed safely in the embrace of his favorite person. 

“Tell me- tell me that you love me,” Felix whispered, his voice muffled slightly where his mouth met the skin of Chan’s neck. “Please.”

A press of lips to the side of his head and then, “I love you and all that you are more than anything. More than the sun and the moon and all the stars in the great, big sky. More than life itself, my precious baby boy.”

The first sob surprised Felix as he shuddered in Chan’s arms. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, the emotions far too much for his body to contain. He’d cried so much over the past few months, but for once, it wasn’t from sadness. It was from the love flooding his system, straight from Chan’s heart to his own and overwhelming in the best way possible. 

This time, when Chan twisted slightly to lay him down on the bed, Felix let him, going down easily and pulling his father into a messy kiss of spit and tears when he settled himself between Felix’s thighs. Chan responded in turn, kissing Felix back with all the gentleness in the world and making Felix’s head spin. 

Felix tasted the salt from his tears and the slight sweetness from the brownie Chan had eaten before Felix got home and another flavor that was just Chan. It all rolled into one beautiful experience that Felix could find himself easily addicted to. He couldn’t imagine going another day without the feel of Chan’s mouth on his own, and didn't know how he had made it this far without breaking down earlier. 

It had only been a couple months since his feelings had truly come to light, but Felix couldn’t begin to fathom how long they’d truly been there, lurking under the surface in wait for Felix to stumble across them in the night. Now that he’d uncovered them, he couldn’t imagine a life without them, without this all-consuming love and need that raged inside him like a perfect storm. 

Felix let his hands wander across Chan’s upper body the way he’d been wanting to for so very long, the muscles there tensing slightly as his dad shifted on his forearms. They were pressed chest to chest, and the gentle weight of Chan’s body against his own was enough to make Felix feel the tiniest bit like he was going insane. Chan was everywhere, all around him, invading his space in the best way and making Felix feel like he was so small under his father’s broad body. 

Chan tugged himself back from the kisses they were sharing, to Felix’s dismay, only to reattach his lips to the underside of his jaw. He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down one side of Felix’s neck, working his way back up the other side to reconnect their lips briefly. 

Felix let out a whimper into the kiss, his brain already halfway to feeling as though it was leaking out his ears, the only thoughts left in his mind focusing solely on Chan and the addictive sensation of their spit-slick lips sliding together. He couldn’t believe he had made it this far—that his dad not only hadn’t shunned him for his feelings but loved him back on top of it all. It felt much too good to be true, but that wasn’t something Felix had the brainpower to think of at the moment. All he wanted—all he needed—was Chan. 

Chan, who slowly pulled away to lay reverent little kisses across the tops of Felix’s tear-stained cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, softly murmuring all the while. “My perfect boy. My perfect, precious boy. You’re so beautiful, baby.”

Felix sniffled, his eyes having long fluttered shut. “I am?”

“Mm,” Chan hummed against his cheek, the vibrations sending goosebumps skittering anew over Felix’s skin. “So beautiful. Always have been. You’re my little ray of sunshine, the prettiest flower in the world’s garden. Every star in my night sky. You’re everything, little one.”

A small, wrecked noise forced its way out of Felix’s throat and his hands scrambled to hold onto Chan tighter. His heart flipped so violently that it almost hurt as another rush of tears flooded to the corners of Felix’s closed eyes and he took a deep, shaky breath in a meager attempt to hold himself back from crying again. 

He had missed this. For so long, Felix never even knew. 

“How- how long?” He asked, his eyes opening so he could look at his father. It didn’t matter how blurry his vision was, Felix didn’t miss the slight scrunch of Chan’s brows when he backed up just enough to look at him. 

“I loved you from the moment I knew you were going to be coming into this world,” came Chan’s answer, so quiet and so honest. “Loving you… like this came around much more recently, but you’ve always been my baby and I’ve always loved you more than anything else in the world.”

Felix sniffled again, a stray tear escaping its way down his cheek to land in his hairline. There were no words, no string of syllables pretty enough to match what Chan had just told him, so Felix tightened his hold around Chan’s neck and pulled him into another kiss. Where words failed, he could always communicate the feelings that were too big for words with his touch instead. 

He kissed Chan with a fervor, trying so desperately to convey just how much he loved his dad, pouring everything he wanted to say and more into the spaces where their mouths connected. A large, warm hand ran down Felix’s side, thumb dipping beneath the hem of his shirt and causing Felix to shiver lightly. 

Already, he was so worked up just from kissing, something that had never happened before. The impact Chan had on him was undeniable and, somewhere in the back of Felix’s mind, he hoped he could have the same effect on his father. 

As though he read Felix’s mind, Chan broke the kiss as his hand slid fully under Felix’s shirt and asked, “Want this to come off now?”

Almost frantically, Felix nodded, shimmying to help Chan tug the shirt over his head. “Want- wanna see you, too. Please.”

“So polite for me. I’ll give you what you want, honey.” Chan tossed Felix’s shirt somewhere to the side before turning back to him with a smile and stripping out of his own shirt. “Better?”

Felix’s chest hurt as he looked at his father, now naked from the waist up. He was so gorgeous, it was almost unfair. It would have been unfair if it was anyone else but Felix in this position—anyone else but Felix that got to look at Chan like this, got to feel his bare skin under their palms. Not for the first time, Felix was hit with a surge of greed that told him to pull Chan in and keep him close until the universe had no choice except to meld them together into a single entity. 

Greedy little fingers ghosted over his father’s torso, watching in thinly veiled delight as the hard lines of muscle there contracted under his touch. Felix couldn’t believe this was all for him, that he had Chan all to himself and didn’t have to share with anyone. 

“Thought about doing this for so long,” he whispered, letting his fingers wander their way up to squeeze once at Chan’s pecs, looking better than any other pair of tits Felix had seen. 

“Yeah?” Chan asked, his head cocked to one side while Felix took his time roaming every inch of exposed skin. “For how long, baby?”

Felix’s own question from only minutes ago being turned on him made his breath catch in his throat. He frowned slightly in consideration and kept absentmindedly tracing his fingers across Chan’s torso and chest. 

“‘M not sure,” he answered. 

It was the truth, he had first noticed these thoughts when he drew Chan nude, but if he really thought about it, maybe the urge had been there for longer. Maybe Felix had always been curious and maybe that was why everybody else he had ever tried to date or sleep with just could never compare. 

“I think it’s been a long time,” Felix settled on eventually. “But it first really hit me when I drew you the first time. Scared me so much, how much I wanted to touch you like this. Scared me for a long time after, too—I think it still kinda does.”

“Oh, my sweet little one,” Chan cooed, leaning on one arm and cupping Felix’s face with his free hand. “This has been so hard for you, hasn’t it?”

Felix looked up to meet his dad’s gaze, feeling so little under the weight of it. He felt the words slipping away from him again, so he just nodded, humming out a tiny, “Mhm.”

Chan frowned slightly and leaned down to press a kiss to Felix’s forehead. “My poor baby, I’m so sorry this has been weighing so much on you. I’m here now though, yeah? You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

Felix felt his bottom lip tremble, more emotions surging through him in waves. His dad took such good care of him, loved him so much that Felix knew he’d never want for love ever again. But still, he needed to hear it, needed to know he wouldn’t be left behind the moment they finished. 

“Promise?” He blinked up at Chan, watching as the expression on Chan’s face melted into one that was nothing short of all the adoration in the world. 

“I promise, lovely. Never gonna let you feel alone anymore, I’ll be here as long as you want me.” A gentle smile split Chan’s face, two pretty little dimples creasing the sides of his mouth. 

Felix wanted to poke one, so he did, relishing in the way it deepened as Chan smiled wider. “‘M never gonna not want you. Never in a million years.”

“And neither will I, sweetheart. I promise you that, too.” Chan was so earnest, so sweet as he spoke, running his thumb over Felix’s cheek and being everything Felix had ever dreamed of. Felix leaned into the touch, letting his eyes fall shut again and succumbing to the feeling of Chan filling up his space in the best way possible. 

“Love you,” Felix mumbled, huffing out a soft breath as the hand on his cheek slowly trailed down his skin, stopping over his chest to squeeze at the slight give there. 

“I love you too, my pretty baby,” came the immediate answer. Shivers ran down Felix’s spine with each declaration of love—it was a feeling he didn’t think he would ever get used to, he could hear the words spoken a million times and each one would leave him melting inside. 

“Love you so much and- and you don’t even know,” Felix said, his mouth moving on its own as Chan moved both hands to gently squish at his almost nonexistent pecs, thumbs tweaking his nipples every couple seconds.

“Yeah? Wanna tell me how much, then?” Chan spoke conversationally, as though he was speaking about the weather and not the nearly obsessive levels of love that Felix held in his heart for his own father. 

“I- ah-” Felix cut himself off with a squeak when one nipple was enveloped by plush lips and a warm tongue laving over his skin, eyes flying open to watch Chan suckle lightly at his tit. The sight made his head spin, every coherent thought emptying out of his brain and all the blood in his body rushing between his legs. 

“Keep talking, little one. Tell me how much you love me—I wanna know all the thoughts in your pretty head,” Chan murmured against Felix’s skin before continuing to lap at him with his tongue, one hand still playing with Felix’s other nipple while the other slid down Felix’s side to thumb under the waistband of his pants. 

“Love- love you so much. Don’t want to be with anyone else, only ever want you, and ah- don’t wanna share,” Felix answered, squirming under his dad’s touch, all the sensations overwhelming him in the best way possible. 

The smile that crossed Chan’s face branded itself where his mouth met Felix’s skin, right by his heart, where it belonged. He pulled back just slightly, fixing Felix in place with one eyebrow quirked. “Don’t wanna share, keep me all to yourself?”

Felix nodded frantically, his hands twitching where they’d come to rest on Chan’s shoulders. “Don’t wanna see you with anyone else—just me. I- I just wanna be yours, please, Daddy.”

Chan sat back on his heels, gently running a palm down Felix’s front as they did so. He looked at Felix like Felix was a precious jewel, something worthy of all his affection—like Felix was everything he needed in the world. Large hands rested on Felix’s hips, squeezing lightly, their warmth flooding right through his body and combining with the heat of laying in Chan’s gaze to make Felix feel like he was seconds away from combusting. 

“My sweet boy, I’m not going anywhere, not unless you ask me to. I’m all yours, I promise.” The sincere tone Chan used only added to the warmth under Felix’s skin and suddenly, the short distance between them felt like it spanned miles. 

Felix reached his arms out, making tiny grabby hands to get Chan to come closer. He whimpered once, the feelings in his chest far too big to handle all at once. “Daddy…”

Chan smiled indulgently before sliding in close, letting Felix wind his greedy little arms around his shoulders and hold on tight. Felix wrapped his legs around Chan’s hips, the pressure on his cock lovely, but the racing of his heart overwhelmed everything else. 

“I’m right here, my little one. Take as much as you want, nothing’s too much if it’s for you.” Chan nuzzled his face into the space between Felix’s neck and shoulder, Felix rubbing his face against the side of Chan’s head the way a cat would. 

How Felix had gotten so lucky, he’d never know. He let the weight of his father pressed against him sink into his bones, calming the torrent of emotions threatening to rage once again. It was all he needed, the comfort of Chan acting as a human weighted blanket working wonders on the anxiety that told Felix he would be cast aside as soon as the night was over. 

The shakiness in his breath subsided the longer Chan held him—or rather, caged him in with his sturdy body, making Felix feel so small and secure that he had no choice but to let go and trust that his dad would take care of him. 

Felix let out another huff when the jitters in his chest lessened, smushing his cheek into the side of Chan’s head. He felt boneless beneath his father’s weight, in no move to go anywhere, yet also feeling an aching need building up inside. 

"Dad- Daddy, need you- need you closer,” Felix pleaded, a whine working its way into his tone. 

Chan gave a soft hum in response. “Mm, yeah? I can do that, baby, you just need to be patient for a little longer. Think you can do that for me?”

Nodding, Felix let Chan pull back, his arms falling limp on either side of his body. “Can do that. Wanna be good for you, wanna be the best.”

That was one thing he still wanted more than anything else. The one thing Felix craved with his very being—to be good for his dad and prove just how worthy of his love he was. 

Chan untied the drawstring of Felix’s sweats—he hadn’t had the energy earlier in the day to think about planning out an outfit that didn’t consist of pure comfort. He carefully wiggled Felix’s pants down his hips and legs, Felix lifting his bottom half up just enough to help Chan undress him before slumping back against the mattress, boneless again. 

“You are the best, honey. The best I could’ve ever asked for,” Chan replied, rubbing his palms over Felix’s thighs and gently pushing them apart to kneel between once more. “Made you perfect just for me, didn’t I?”

And when he put it like that, Felix had no choice to agree. He had been made by Chan and just for Chan alone. There was no other answer, he was always destined to end up in love with Chan—it was what his father had made him for. 

“Mhm, just for you, all for you- ahh-” Felix cut himself off when a hand wrapped around his cock, giving a small twist upwards. It was dry, but somehow felt better than anything Felix had experienced before, just because his dad was the one delivering it. 

“That’s right, my good boy. Always so good for me.” Chan gave Felix’s cock one more stroke before letting him go and reaching over to his night stand to fish out a bottle of lube. 

Felix opened his legs wider, practically shivering in anticipation when Chan uncapped the bottle and drizzled some onto his fingers. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he fought the urge to try and tug his father closer all over again. He could be patient. 

He could be good. 

“Gonna give you my fingers now, little one,” Chan cooed, waiting less than a second before pushing a finger past the tight ring of muscle. 

Felix shuddered under the touch, fighting the urge inside of him to tighten everything right up. He’d had extensive experience with himself and his toys, but not as much with other people. Even in the times he had slept with other people, Felix had always been the one to open himself up. 

But somehow, it just made sense that his dad was the first to do this for Felix. To get him spread out and more pliant than he’d ever felt before—to take care of Felix the way no one else did. 

Felix shuddered out a breath as the finger inside him wriggled slightly, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. A soft noise tumbled out of him unbidden, the feeling of being filled even a small bit settled something previously untethered inside him. 

“Feel good?” Chan asked, curling his finger upwards inside Felix and pulling out a whine from his lungs. 

“S-So good already, Daddy. No- no one’s ever done this for me before,” Felix's voice came out breathless, unable to stop the tremble in his words.

“No one?” Chan tutted, drawing his finger out and pushing another in beside it. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here now and I’ll treat you like the treasure you are.”

Felix whimpered again, his hips bucking slightly when his father sped up the pace of his hand to steady thrusts in and out. Never had he been treated like this in the past, so sweetly and like his pleasure mattered and wasn’t simply a means to an end for whomever he was with. While his past partners had been bad, per se, none of them had ever taken the time to treat Felix half as well as Chan was currently. 

“Love your fingers in but, want more, please, I’ve been good. Please, Dad-” Felix squeaked when suddenly, three fingers bullied their way inside his hole, stretching him open more than he’d been in so long. He threw his head back into the pillows behind him, squirming as he scrambled to get used to the sensation. 

“That’s right, baby, you’re so good for me, so good,” Chan replied and smoothed his free hand over Felix’s hip, lightly thumbing over the bone there. “Just lay there and take what Daddy gives you, yeah?”

Felix nodded quickly, sinking back into the soft mattress as his muscles slowly went lax once more. He felt a gentle pat to his hip, a warm palm rubbing over the area, the smile in his dad’s voice when Chan said, “That’s it. My good boy, my pretty pillow princess.”

And all over again, Felix was gasping, eyes flying open from the comfortable dark he’d relaxed into and his cock twitching against his pelvis. He wasn’t unaware of how that particular pet name would make him feel, but he had never had the strength to bring it up with any of the people he’d been with previously. Even less prepared was Felix to hear that name fall from his father’s lips without a request, or the rush that flooded through him when he did. 

“Oh?” Chan’s eyes flicked up to meet Felix’s, a mischievous little smile sliding across his lips. “Does my little one like being called that? You like being my princess?”

Felix was entirely unable to help the way his mouth opened around a shrill little cry, back arching up from the bed and his body going taut for a few long seconds. He slumped back down against the sheets, twisting his hands in the soft fabric.

Mouth moving on its own, Felix hardly realized what he was saying as he babbled shakily, “Want that, wanna be good for you, wanna be your princess, Daddy, please-”

“You are, baby. You’re every good thing and more.” Chan’s fingers curled upwards to hit Felix’s prostate, pulling another moan from Felix. 

Everything was becoming so overwhelming for Felix, the fingers deep in his ass, the non-stop praise that was coming from Chan—all of it was too much. Felix screwed his eyes shut, tears gathering at the corners again when the muscles in his stomach began to tighten. If he didn’t keep his head screwed on, he would end up cumming like a teenager in his first hookup before Chan even got a chance to slip his cock inside. 

“I can’t- I-I’m gonna cum, Daddy, ah-” Felix squirmed beneath Chan, his hips canting upward before Chan pulled his hand back, leaving Felix horribly, painfully empty. 

“No, you’re not, sweetheart. Not unless it’s on my cock,” Chan commented, tone flippant as he wiped the excess lube on his hand on the sheets. 

Felix blinked up at his father with teary eyes, snuffling out a short sob. “D-Daddy, wan’ want you now. Been so good, please, don’t make me wait, ‘m so empty…”

Chan chuckled and stood to shuck off his pants, giving Felix a fond look so out of place for the situation. “You’ll have me soon enough, princess. Can’t fuck you very well with my pants on, can I?”

Felix watched, halfway entranced despite the tears clouding his vision, by the way his father’s cock bounced up to slap his lower stomach when he pulled down his pants. Thick and pretty and curving just slightly, it was just like Felix imagined it would be, ever since he’d first had a chance to feel it all those weeks ago. 

Slowly, he shook his head and sniffled again, voice small as he answered, “No, guess not.”

“Very good. You’ll just have to wait a minute more and then I’ll fill you up, just like you deserve.” Chan settled back on his knees, between Felix’s spread thighs, and reached again for the bottle of lube he’d set on the nightstand. 

Felix nodded once. A minute. He could do that. He was being good, making his father proud the way he’d always strived to. 

He made himself hold still in an attempt to relax while Chan poured more lube into his palm and used it to slick up his cock. Every bit of his father was gorgeous and Felix was still one foot into disbelief that Chan loved him too and wanted him just as much as Felix wanted Chan. It was surreal and if it was a dream, Felix would be content floating away on it for the rest of eternity. 

Chan leaned over Felix, positioning himself right at Felix’s hole and glancing up before attempting to slide home. “Ready, little one?”

Felix couldn’t nod fast enough, hands coming up to grip at his father’s shoulders, legs opening up as wide as they could go. “Please, please, Daddy. Fill me up, please!”

A pair of lips cut him off from blathering any further, continuing to kiss him until Felix slowly relaxed once more, head emptying of anything that wasn’t comforting fluff. Felix sank into the feeling and gasped into Chan’s mouth when he felt the blunt head of his father’s cock pressing into him for the first time. 

Chan was so much bigger than Felix expected he would be, yet he felt so perfect the more he pushed in. Opened up as well as he was, Felix still felt a stretch as Chan’s cock sunk into him inch by inch, the feeling causing the best sort of dizziness in Felix’s mind. He held onto his father’s shoulders tightly and kept his mouth pressed to Chan’s until he bottomed out a few moments later. 

Felix pulled away and let his head fall into the pillows once more, brows knitting together as his body rushed to accommodate the welcome intrusion. He felt like he could barely breathe, Chan’s cock large enough that Felix would have sworn he felt it in his stomach. It was the largest thing he’d ever taken and immediately, he knew he was entirely enamored with the feeling. The stretch, the slight burn, the nearly overwhelming fullness—all of it mixed together to create the perfect storm that Felix would willingly become intoxicated on at every chance he got. 

“Feeling okay, sunshine?” Chan nosed lightly at Felix’s cheek, leaving the stray kiss here and there across his face. 

Felix hummed, already blissed out. “Mm. Feels so good in me, Daddy. Love- love you so much.”

“And I love you too, sweetheart, so much,” Chan answered automatically, laying more open-mouthed kisses down Felix’s chin and into the dip of his neck. 

Felix hummed again and wriggled underneath Chan, pulling at his shoulders lightly. “Can- wan’- move, please…”

“Alright, if you’re ready, baby.” Chan pulled out nearly all the way before sliding back in, Felix entirely unable to stop from bucking his hips up once. 

It wasn’t close enough, Felix wanted—needed—to be closer, to carve out a space between Chan’s ribs and live there forever. That was the only way Felix would be truly satisfied, the deep greed in his heart put to rest. But admittedly, the feeling of his father balls deep in Felix and pledging his love for him did ease the clawing of Felix’s heart in his chest to combine into a single entity with the man above him. 

Felix moaned as Chan gradually picked up the pace, the syllable accented with a small squeak when Chan drove his hips in hard against Felix’s. He held on tighter to Chan’s shoulders, fingers gripping at the bit of meat between them, and wrapped his legs around his father’s hips, to keep him close even when he pulled back. 

“Feel so good, little one, so perfect around me,” Chan said around a groan, dropping his forehead to rest on Felix’s shoulder. More open mouthed kisses were laid on the skin there, leaving Felix shivering when he felt Chan’s teeth graze over the area. 

Felix gave a loopy smile to the ceiling at his dad’s words. Good. He was being good, exactly the way he had always wanted. 

“‘M good?” He asked, his voice slurring the words together slightly. 

“So good, sweetheart.” Chan raised his head off Felix’s shoulder to capture his lips in a soft kiss, one that was so much sweeter than it should have been for their positions. His hips never stopped their movement as he pulled back to say, “So very good, better than anything I could’ve asked for.”

Felix felt a sob bubbling up from his chest and he wriggled more underneath Chan, trying his very hardest to get closer to him. His cock rubbed up against the hard planes of Chan’s stomach, the feeling only adding to the storm of pleasure rippling through him. 

“Daddy?” He sniffled, the first in another round of tears trailing down his face. “Are- are you proud of me?”

Above him, Chan made a noise like he’d just been punched and curled around Felix even more, until all Felix could feel was his father’s presence. Even through the fuzz in his head, Felix could still pick up on the slight tremor in Chan’s voice as he answered, “Oh Felix, my sweet boy... I’m so, so proud of you, always have been. There’s nothing you could do to make me change my mind.” 

And with that, the floodgates opened, Felix choking on another sob as he scrambled to hold himself back from cumming on the spot. His body tightened around Chan’s, nails digging into Chan’s back and the tears flowing freely. The words rolled around in his head, Felix’s heart surging each time they looped. 

Proud. Chan was proud. His dad was proud of him. 

“Felix, baby, are you okay?” Chan tried to pull away slightly, just for Felix to sob and cling to him harder. 

“‘M- ‘m so- so happy,” Felix warbled, crying out when Chan pushed their hips together again. Everything was so immense, he didn’t know how else to express all the feelings pouring out of him, Felix’s body moving on its own to rock against Chan’s. 

The release he had been so close to earlier was suddenly hurtling towards him again and Felix found himself on the precipice within the span of a moment. Little huffs were punched out of him as Chan picked up the pace of his thrusts—though they were less thrusts than short grinds with how snugly Felix was holding onto him. 

“Glad I can make you happy,” Chan said, his voice growing breathless. “My little princess always deserves to be happy.”

Felix sniffled again, his eyes still watery, his own breaths coming quicker the closer he got to his release. His legs were shaking with the effort of keeping him wrapped up so close to Chan, but anything more than the barest of distance between them was far too much for Felix to handle. So he held on, trying his very best to stave off his orgasm for as long as he could. 

He didn’t think his father would leave him in the dust, not after this, but he could be sure until the after happened. Felix wanted to prolong the moment for a little longer, bask in the unadulterated attention and love Chan was giving him. Reality could wait for them, just a bit more. 

Chan mouthed again at the skin of Felix’s neck, surely leaving a necklace of marks for Felix to look back on for days to come, something tangible for him to remember these moments by. His hips never stopped their rhythmic movements, shoving Felix ever closer to the edge of bliss. 

Words of any coherency had long left Felix behind, the only thing on his mind was hearing the words he’d been chasing for so long. Another weak sob bubbled out of him, followed by a string of pleas that Felix babbled out mindlessly. “Daddy- Daddy, tell me again, p-please, tell me- tell me you love me, th-that you’re proud, Daddy, please…”

Above him, Chan groaned softly, grinding in deep against Felix before continuing his sharp thrusts. He raised his head to gently press his forehead to Felix’s. “Fuck, little one, honey, my love, you’re so incredible, so beautiful and perfect. Feel so good around me, more than anyone else could come close to, my lovely boy. I’m so proud of you always and I love you more than anything else in the universe.”

Felix let out a trebly cry, all the depth fucked out of him, along with all of his words, save for the wobbly chant of, “Daddy, Daddy, need you, love you, Dad- Dad-!”

“I’ve got you, Dad’s got you, my precious boy. You can let go, baby,” Chan’s voice cut through the fluff in Felix’s head and his words embedded themselves in his mind, sending him into overdrive. 

Felix let out his loudest wail yet, body clamping up as his orgasm tumbled through him with the force of an earthquake. The slide of his cock against Chan’s stomach became even more slick as his release painted their abdomens, Felix’s vision going white from the power of it. 

Through the cotton in his ears, he heard Chan mumbling and groaning as he kept pistoning his cock in and out of Felix. “Fuck, what a good boy. Look so gorgeous cumming on my cock like that. My lovely boy, my perfect boy—fuck—gonna fill you up and make you mine-” 

And then Chan’s hips were stuttering in their constant push and pull, warmth spreading inside Felix and filling him to the brim. Felix kept holding on tight the entire time, only loosening his grip a little when Chan’s weight slumped atop him, his forearms bracing against the mattress to keep from crushing Felix. Not that Felix would’ve minded, his brain was happily floating away on cloud nine—the weight of his father’s body comforting in a way nothing else was. 

Chan moved to pull away, Felix whimpering and tightening his hold on Chan’s shoulders. “No…”

“Okay, baby. I’ll stay here a little longer, but then I need to get you cleaned up, yeah?” Chan said with a soft chuckle, pressing his lips to the underside of Felix’s jaw. 

Felix didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, not with words. His dad would know what he needed and would take care of him, whether he had the words to ask for it or not. 

For some time, Felix laid there, Chan on top of him and keeping him gently pressed into the mattress. Felix would have been more than happy just staying there for the rest of the night, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. There was nothing more he needed—everything he’d been chasing after was finally in his hands and there wasn’t a chance in hell he would ever let that go. 

“Alright, baby,” Chan broke the silence after a few more minutes had passed. He carefully began pulling away, Felix whining and pulling at him with his greedy fingers, determined to keep his father near for as long as possible. Chan’s softened cock slipped out of him, letting his cum slowly start to dribble out of Felix and onto the sheets below. 

“Daddy…” Felix whimpered, grimacing slightly at the feeling of his cum trying to glue him and Chan together. He watched sadly as Chan climbed off the bed. It couldn’t end now, his dad wouldn’t leave now, after all this, would he?

“I’m not going far, little one, I’m just going to get a cloth to clean you off with. Can’t have you stay all messy, that wouldn’t be very comfortable, now would it?” Chan answered, leaning down to brush his clean hand through Felix’s hair. “I know a shower would be good, but you don’t look like you’re in any condition to be moving right now.”

As he always seemed to be, Chan was right again. Felix’s entire body felt like it was made of jelly—for all he’d been clinging to his father, it had left him well and truly exhausted. There was no way he would be able to stand through a shower for a while. 

“Promise?” Was all he could manage to ask, the only thing on his mind. If Chan promised, then Felix would believe him. 

Chan smiled indulgently down at him, sending syrupy warmth spreading through Felix’s chest. “I promise, honey. I’ll get you cleaned up and then we can order in and watch a movie, how does that sound?”

Slowly, Felix nodded. That sounded like heaven to him, being able to laze in his dad’s bed with no need to fear and even less need to leave. But even so, he had to hear it from Chan. The stickiness on his stomach and between his legs could wait a second more. 

“You won’t leave?” He blinked up at Chan, feeling so small as his father smiled wider, looking down at Felix with so much love, it almost hurt. 

“I won’t leave and I won’t make you leave, either. Not unless you want to.” Chan ran his fingers through Felix’s damp hair once more, his hand trailing down to cup his cheek lightly. 

Felix shook his head quickly, tamping down the horror that rose in him at the thought of leaving. There was nothing he wanted less, so he would stay in his spot and trust that Chan wouldn’t get rid of him now that he had finished inside Felix. 

“That’s my good boy, I’ll be right back.” Chan stroked his thumb over Felix’s cheek before he was turning and waddling his way to the bathroom, Felix watching him as he went. 

True to his word, Chan came back only a minute or so later, damp washcloth in hand. Felix smiled sleepily when his dad approached him and shivered just slightly when the washcloth first touched his bare skin. He let Chan clean him off, get rid of the stickiness that clung to his body and leave him feeling refreshed, even without a shower. 

“There we go,” Chan cooed, carefully cleaning between Felix’s legs. “That feels better, doesn’t it?”

Felix hummed softly. He still felt a little like he was up in space, floating away on the adoration his dad had shown him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt better in his life. 

The words needed to answer Chan evaded Felix, but Chan seemed to understand and chuckled softly. 

“That’s good, lovely. I’m almost done and then I’ll get some cozy jammies to put you into, yeah?” Chan finished wiping Felix down and lightly patted one of his thighs. 

Felix just hummed again, stretching in place. Cozy sounded good, especially with Chan there to cuddle. Sleepy as he was becoming, Felix wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to freely snuggle into his father’s embrace, the way he’d been dreaming of doing for so long. 

“Alright, then I’ll be back in a minute.” Clean leaned down to press another kiss to Felix’s forehead, Felix closing his eyes and letting a tiny little smile spread across his face at the feeling. 

Chan really was staying, he wasn’t forcing Felix out or discarding him now that they had both finished. Felix had made him proud, he had been good. The warmth in his chest was a constant, reassuring presence of the fact, constantly brought on by how lovingly his father had been treating him. 

Felix sighed softly, more than happy to wait for Chan to return. He would be taken care of by his dad, just how he always had been. 

There was a part of Felix that was still terrified that the spell would break and everything he was anxious about would come to fruition. But on the other hand, he had to trust that his dad wouldn’t lie to him, wouldn’t lead him on and tell him every sweet word in the book, just to leave him stranded later on. Chan may have been many things, but cruel wasn’t one of them. 

When Chan returned, now clothed in boxers alone and arms full of comfortable clothes for Felix to wear, Felix peeked his eyes open before pushing himself to sit up.

“Here, let me get rid of this gunky blanket first.” Chan set the pajamas he’d brought in down on one of the pillows behind Felix and carefully wedged the dirty blanket out from under him. 

There was a twinge in Felix’s backside as he let Chan move him around, one that brought an almost hysterical little grin to his face. It was one more reminder of their previous activities—that Felix had been loved so well, his body had changed with the experience. 

“What has my baby so smiley?” Chan asked, tossing the dirtied blanket onto the floor.

“You,” Felix answered simply. “Can still feel you inside when I sit up like this.”

“Fuck,” Chan swore under his breath. “You can’t just say things like that, little one. Arms up, baby.”

Obediently, Felix raised his arms, letting Chan slide his sleep shirt over his head. “Why not?”

“Because you don’t know what it does to me—makes me wanna turn you over and take you all over again,” Chan muttered, gently patting Felix’s hip and leaning over him to grab the underwear and sleep pants he brought. 

Felix felt heat begin to simmer in his stomach all over again. It’d be a bad idea to get both him and Chan messy now that they were clean—but he couldn’t deny the fact that it did sound appealing. 

“‘S not too bad of an idea,” he said, leaning back and lifting his sore hips for Chan to slide his underwear over. 

“It is right now, sunshine. You’re sore and you’ve gotta get some rest before either of us think about going for another round.” Once Felix was clothed again, Chan settled into bed next to him, opening his arms for Felix to wriggle into. 

Felix happily obliged, settling on his side and curling into Chan’s safe embrace. “You- you’d want to again sometime later, though?”

“Of course I would, sweetheart. That was- you’re the best I’ve ever had,” Chan stated, a shy giggle slipping from his lips that made Felix’s heart do backflips in his chest. 

“And you don’t… hate me for how I feel?” He asked unsurely. Reason told him that if Chan was uncomfortable, he never would let things go this far. But still, Felix just had to know. 

“My love, I’d never hate you under any circumstances,” Chan replied, pressing a kiss to Felix’s forehead. “True, I never thought we would end up like… this. But it’s not unwelcome, I’ve never loved anyone or anything half as much as I love you.”

Felix pulled away just enough to look his father in the eye. “You mean it?”

Chan nodded, smiling softly down at him and leaning in to kiss the tip of Felix’s nose. “I promise, my Lixie. More than everything in the whole universe, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Felix smiled back at him, feeling so much lighter than he had in months. “I love you too, love you so much that it hurts sometimes.”

“I’ll try and make it so you don’t have to hurt anymore, that’s the last thing I want for you.” One of Chan’s hands came up to play with the ends of Felix’s hair, twirling them around his fingers. 

Felix had never done this with anyone before, yet here, held snugly in his father’s arms, felt more right than it would with anyone else. It was where he belonged—where he always had belonged. 

“And… you’ll stay?” He asked, voice growing small once again. Felix felt silly for asking so many questions and needing so much reassurance, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know—had to hear it straight from his father’s lips before the twist of anxiety between his ribs would loosen. 

Chan pressed another kiss to the top of Felix’s head before pulling away to see his face. Felix blinked up at him, one hand twisting into a fist over the skin of his dad’s chest as he waited with bated breath for what Chan had to say. 

“The past couple months really messed with you, didn’t they?” Chan started, huffing out a soft sigh that sounded like it held hundreds of unspoken words. “I’m so sorry, my sweet boy, for everything. I promise, you’ll never have to be alone again, I plan on staying with you for the rest of time and making sure you know just how treasured you are.”

To that, Felix had no words, not a single syllable that could encapsulate the overwhelming love bursting inside his heart. A knot of emotion choked his throat and Felix couldn’t hold himself back from diving into his dad’s arms once again, only managing to whisper out a shaky, “I love you.”

Chan held him snugly, in his lovely, capable arms, whispering soft words that filled Felix’s heart a thousand times over. He held Felix until the vice around his throat loosened and the anxiety in his chest eased. It was everything Felix had craved and more, a feeling so tremendous that it overwhelmed everything else. And for the first time in so very long, Felix felt entirely at peace. 

Later, Chan ordered them food and they ate in his bed, a movie playing on the TV that they hardly paid attention to—too busy talking to each other to care much about anything else. Things were easy—carefree, even—in a way that they never had been before. Bright laughs at stupid jokes, tiny kisses stolen between bites of food, tangled limbs cuddled together after the takeout dishes were cleared away. 

And after, they got ready for bed together in Chan’s bathroom, settling under the covers once again to sleep. Felix was snuggled under Chan’s arm, his head resting on his dad’s chest, the steady thump of his heart echoing through Felix’s ear. 

“Dad?” Felix whispered into the darkness. Below his head, Chan’s chest vibrated on a hum. 

“Mm? What is it, baby?” Chan’s voice was soft, already tinged with sleepiness. 

“Tell me again, please—that you love me.”

“I love you, my little one. More than the sun and the moon and all the stars in the great, big sky.”

This time, Felix believed him without question, without any anxiety bubbling inside him. And for the first time in so very long, he felt entirely at peace.