Chapter Text
Felix didn’t remember the first kiss, only the heat of it, sudden and heady, tasting faintly of whiskey and daring. One moment, he was leaning against the bar, and the next, he was tangled in someone’s arms, pressed against a chest that felt like fire under leather. He didn’t think. He didn’t care. His lips parted for another kiss, messy and uncoordinated, teeth grazing, breath warm and fast. Everything was blurry. Everything was spinning.
Fucking handsome and sexy. That’s all Felix could think.
The stranger smelled faintly of smoke and rain. His voice was low when he murmured something Felix didn’t catch, but Felix nodded anyway, fingers clutching at the man’s shirt as if the only thing keeping him from floating away was this.
Somehow, they made it back to his place. The night blurred into partly remembered touches. The door slamming shut, laughter spilling into the darkness, shoes kicked off without care. By the time they reached the bedroom, Felix’s pulse was a drumbeat. He stumbled, the stranger’s hand gripping his hip like a salvation. They kissed again, too hard, too hungry.
“Bed,” Felix muttered against the man’s lips, fumbling backward. His knees hit the edge of the mattress, but instead of falling gracefully, they both miscalculated and crashed onto the floor in a heap of limbs and breathless laughter.
“Smooth,” the stranger teased, voice deep and amused, both chuckling.
“Shut up,” Felix said, shoving at his chest weakly before pulling him down for another kiss. It was clumsy, desperate. Mouths sliding, teeth clashing, tongues tangling with a heat that had nothing to do with precision and everything to do with want.
They crawled onto the bed eventually, dragging like zombies, climbing, still kissing like neither of them could bear to stop. Felix felt the stranger’s hands wander, fingers slipping under his shirt, warm palms splaying across his stomach. He gasped softly, arching up into the touch, every nerve ending alive and trembling.
The stranger pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes heavy lidded but intent. “Can I…?” His hand slid lower, teasing over Felix’s thigh, the question lingering between them like smoke.
Felix swallowed hard, lips parted. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Please.”
He stranger put his fingers over Felix's mouth as he coated it with his own saliva. Their eyes were on fire, the first slide of the stranger’s fingers was tentative, testing, but Felix was already trembling with anticipation. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, hips rolling instinctively toward the touch. It was clumsy, unpracticed, but the roughness only made it real. Felix’s breath stuttered, his fingers curling into the sheets.
“You okay?” the man murmured, voice husky, almost cautious now.
Felix nodded quickly, hair sticking to his damp forehead. “Yeah. Don’t stop.”
The stranger shifted closer, one arm bracing beside Felix’s head, the other hand moving with slow, deliberate pressure, preparing him with care despite the drunken haze. Felix felt every inch of it, every stretch, every burn that melted into something unbearably good. He bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut as a soft moan escaped him.
Then the man paused, leaning down to press a kiss to Felix’s jaw. “What’s your name, pretty?”
Felix blinked at him, disoriented, lips trembling. He could barely remember the shape of his own name. “Just…” He exhaled shakily. “Just call me babe.”
The man chuckled softly, a low sound that vibrated through Felix’s bones. “Babe, huh?”
Felix, feeling bold through the haze of alcohol and want, opened his eyes and smirked faintly. “Yeah. Just… babe. I don’t give out my name that easily.”
“Alright,” the stranger whispered against his ear. “Babe...” The word came out like a growl, rough and warm.
Their mouths collided again, the kiss slower this time, deeper, like they were drowning and this was the only way to breathe. Felix whimpered into it, his body arching as the man’s fingers slid one last time, careful and sure, before withdrawing. The sudden emptiness made Felix gasp, but then the weight of the stranger pressed against him, grounding him, and all he could think was yes.
“Ready?” the man asked, his voice tight now, raw around the edges.
Felix nodded, breathless. “Yeah, take me.”
“You make me so hard, babe,” the stranger echoed again, and there was something darkly sweet in the way he said it, like it meant something more than it should have.
The taller person clumsily pulled something from his bedside drawer. Peeled a packet and clumsily put it on his already hard cock. It was unsuccessful the first try as Felix laughed, "do you need help?" Both giggled. "Wait, I can do this, just that my dick is twitching."
After a minute and he was already protected, he poured a lube from a tube he didn't know where he grabbed it. The stranger hovered, eyes looking at Felix's entire face. Felix was about to kiss him again but he pulled away, "I'll kiss you later. I wanna see your reaction first."
Felix was confused. When he felt the tip was finally inside, his faced was far from graceful. He crumpled every muscle, brows furrowed, mouth agape. "OH MY GOD! BABE!" The loud scream gave satisfaction to the stranger as he caught Felix's another moan. Kissing him hard.
When their bodies finally collided, Felix’s breath hitched so sharply it felt like a jab to his lungs. It wasn’t perfect. It was far from it. Too rushed, too sloppy, the angles off and their balance clumsy but none of that mattered. It was heat and friction, skin against skin, sweat slicking their bodies as they moved together in a rhythm born out of chaos rather than grace.
Felix moaned, the sound breaking into a breathless laugh when they accidentally shifted too far and nearly fell off the bed again. “You’re… terrible at this,” he muttered, but the grin on his face said otherwise.
“We're drunk,” the man countered, his own breath ragged. “But you’ll thank me later.”
“Babe,” Felix groaned, clutching at his shoulders as another wave of pleasure tore through him. The man continued ramming him ridiculously fast as if it's gonna be his last supper. “Don’t… stop! Hnggggg—babe!”
Felix didn’t know when the drunken haze gave way to something sharper, but somewhere between the kisses and the clumsy laughter, he became hyper-aware of him. Of the way this stranger held him like he wasn’t breakable but wasn’t disposable either. Those hands were calloused yet gentle, pinned him perfectly, fingers spread wide across his hips like they were meant to stay there. Felix could feel the strength in his arms every time he moved, the tension in his biceps rippling like coiled steel.
When the stranger’s mouth claimed his again, slow but consuming, Felix groaned. The muscles of the man’s back shifted under Felix’s hands, every ridge and line a landscape he wanted to remember. He clung there, his nails grazing firm skin, each thrust making his breath scatter into gasps that melted into the stranger’s lips. The hugeness of him, filling him, stretching him. It had Felix moaning into the kiss, his voice shaking with something dangerously close to surrender.
“God,” Felix whispered, his words breaking into a trembling laugh, “I might not be able to walk tomorrow.”
The stranger paused only to tilt his head, grinning against Felix’s flushed cheek. “That’s the goal,” he murmured, voice deep and velvety, “babe… you’re breathtaking. So beautiful.”
Something about the way he said it like Felix was more than just heat and drunken recklessness, made Felix’s chest tighten. His heart thudded, not from fear but from the raw way he was being seen. Felix kissed him back, deeper, slower this time, like he wanted to hold that moment, that praise, inside his lungs forever.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it wasn’t. But for a second, Felix felt himself falling, not just into the stranger’s arms, but into something strange. Love? Too early. But it was what it was. He felt it inside his heart.
The stranger kissed him again, swallowing the words, his hand gripping Felix’s waist like he never wanted to let go. Every movement was raw and urgent, their names forgotten, their pasts irrelevant. There was only this moment, the press of lips, the taste of liquor, the messy cadence of two strangers crashing together like waves.
Felix’s thoughts scattered like glass, his entire world narrowing to the sound of their gasps, the heat coiling low in his belly. He clawed at the man’s back, leaving faint red marks, and the stranger only groaned, driving deeper, harder, as though the word babe was a spell keeping them both alive.
And for a fleeting, drunken second, Felix believed it might be.
The room was spinning again, or maybe it was just him. That his pulse still racing, breath still caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. Felix fell back onto the mattress with a thud, his limbs trembling from exhaustion and alcohol. Sweat clung to his skin, cooling under the soft whisper of the ceiling fan. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Only the sound of ragged breathing filled the silence, heavy and human and real.
The stranger dropped beside him, one arm slung across his stomach like an aftercare he didn’t expect. Felix felt the weight of it, the warmth, and let his body sink into the bed. He couldn’t think. Not about the bar, not about the way they’d stumbled up the elevator, barely making it through the door before tearing at each other’s clothes. His mind was just static, soft and humming.
“Babe,” the stranger murmured, voice thick and hoarse. It made Felix shiver, like the word itself was still stitched to his skin. “You okay?”
Felix turned his head slightly, his curls sticking to his damp forehead. The man’s face was half in shadow, the city lights bleeding through the window painting him in streaks of blue and gold. “Yeah,” Felix whispered, his voice fragile. “Just… dizzy.”
A soft chuckle. “Same, we’re so fucking drunk.”
Felix smiled, small and unguarded, before reaching out with a trembling hand. His fingertips brushed the stranger’s shoulder, trailing down the curve of muscle, the faint sheen of sweat. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to memorize this. wanted to trace the outline of someone whose name he didn’t even know. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was loneliness. He didn’t question it.
His fingers wandered lazily over the man’s chest, feeling the thud of his heartbeat beneath his skin. It was fast, almost as fast as his own. He found faint ridges there, scars that caught under his touch, thin and pale like old stories no one had read aloud in years. Felix paused, his fingers hovering, curiosity flickering in his drunken haze.
“Babe,” the man said softly, not moving. “What are you doing?”
Felix blinked, realizing how intimate it felt, and let out a breathy laugh. “You’ve got... marks,” he murmured, fingertips brushing another line of scar tissue. “Like... little maps.”
The man hummed, tilting his head to look at Felix, his eyes unreadable. “Old things. Nothing special.”
Felix shook his head, his curls bouncing slightly against the pillow. “They’re... beautiful.” The word left his lips before he could stop it, too honest, too raw.
The man’s chest heaved with a quiet exhale, his expression softening for a fleeting second. “You’re more drunk, babe,” he murmured, almost like he was trying to dismiss the weight of the moment. But there was something in his tone.
Felix’s hand kept moving, tracing lower now, over the inked lines of a tattoo etched across the stranger’s side of the ribs. The shapes were sharp, almost jagged, like wings cut from smoke and fire. His fingers lingered there, curious, the pads of his fingertips following each curve of ink. “This one... what is it?”
The man smiled faintly. “A mistake I decided to keep,” he said, his voice quiet but rough, like gravel softened by time.
Felix tilted his head. “It’s not a mistake. It’s...” He trailed off, trying to find a word, his brain foggy but his heart strangely awake. “...It’s you.”
The man didn’t answer, but his hand moved, brushing back Felix’s damp hair, his fingers lingering on his temple like he was memorizing him too. The touch was slow, unhurried, almost tender. It was too much for Felix to process. He shut his eyes, leaning into it like a cat leaning into sunlight.
Minutes passed in silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward but heavy with something unspoken. Felix’s breathing slowed, his body melting into exhaustion. He realized he could fall asleep like this, skin to skin, tangled in warmth that wasn’t his. A stranger, but... not unwelcome.
“Babe,” the man murmured again, voice quieter now, like it was meant for the space between Felix’s dreams. “What’s your real name?”
Felix cracked one eye open, drunk and sleepy. “Does it matter?” The man smiled faintly, brushing his thumb across Felix’s cheek. “It might. I don't know why you look familiar. And, I might wanna see you again, sober.”
Felix rolled onto his side, facing him fully now. The motion brought them closer, their foreheads almost touching, their breaths mingling. “Yeah, I always look familiar because I'm all over instagram. Then what’s your name?” he countered softly.
The stranger smirked, but there was something softer behind it. “Let’s just be babe and babe tonight.”
Felix’s lips curved, a small, lazy grin. “Fine... babe.” He said the word like it was a secret only they understood, a name that carried no past, no future, just this moment.
The man leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time. It wasn’t clumsy like before, but intentional, a kiss that tasted like sweat and midnight and something almost caring. Felix’s hand rose to cup his jaw, feeling the rough stubble under his palm, and for a moment, the world didn’t feel so heavy.
When they finally broke apart, Felix whispered, “You’re comfy.”
The man chuckled softly. “So are you.” He shifted closer, pulling Felix against his chest. The heat of him was intoxicating, like curling up by a fire you didn’t know you needed. Felix’s hand wandered again, tracing the tattoo like it was a constellation only he could read. The stranger’s arm tightened around him in response, and for a second, Felix felt safe, an unfamiliar feeling that made his chest ache.
As sleep began to pull him under, Felix thought about how strange it was that a night so messy, so unplanned, could feel like this. Like the universe was holding its breath. Like maybe, just maybe, this stranger wasn’t just a mistake made under the haze of alcohol.
But he didn’t think too hard. His last thought before drifting off was simple: Babe feels nice.
Felix opened his eyes and squinted, his vision blurred by both the dim morning light seeping through the curtains and the pounding ache in his skull. His face was buried against warm skin. A man’s armpit, surprisingly shaved clean and faintly smelling of Wood Sage & Sea Salt cologne. It was oddly comforting. He inhaled again, letting the scent ground him as a small smile tugged at his lips. Then the throbbing pain behind his temples reminded him of the heavy drinking from the night before. A groan escaped him, muffled against the man’s chest.
Hangover.
He hated it. He hated mornings like this, where the memories were fogged by alcohol and fleeting pleasure.
Felix shifted slightly, his bare legs tangled with the stranger’s. His body ached, his thighs sore in that unmistakable way. He let out a sharp exhale, leaning his forehead against the man’s collarbone. He was wrecked. Completely wrecked. And he liked it.
Another one night stand. He told himself that’s all it was, even though a part of him hesitated. This man felt different somehow. He’s warm and present. There was an intensity to the way he’d been touched, like Felix wasn’t just another body in a blur of meaningless nights. But his memory was foggy, leaving him with frustrating fragments of last night’s heat.
The man stirred beside him. Even with his eyes closed, Felix felt the subtle shift of muscle against his skin, the arm that had been loosely draped over his waist tightening in a possessive half embrace. Felix blinked, tilting his head slightly to catch a glimpse of his partner.
The man wore an eye mask, the kind that covered half his face. His hair, dark and damp-looking, stuck to his forehead. Felix wondered if he looked at all familiar, but nothing clicked. Not yet. He sighed and gave in to a moment of indulgence, resting his head on the stranger’s chest.
Then, to his surprise, the man’s hand slid up his spine with gentle pressure, pulling him closer. A warm kiss landed on Felix’s temple. It was slow, delicate, soft. Felix froze, lips parting slightly as his heart gave a strange, unexpected thud. It wasn’t a casual touch. It was too sweet, too intimate. It threw him off.
He liked it so much. He hated that he liked it. His usual one night encounters didn’t feel like this. They weren’t supposed to.
Felix’s gaze wandered around the room, trying to distract himself, trying to pretend that the heat rising in his cheeks was nothing. The bedroom was large, luxurious, with a sleek, modern style that screamed wealth. Black marble counters. A massive wall mirror. A shelf lined with trophies and shining medals. Felix’s brow furrowed slightly. He leaned up just enough to get a clearer view.
And then he saw it.
A photo frame on the wall: a close-up of a man, jaw sharp as a blade, hair flying back under a helmet, mid-turn on a roaring motorbike. His racing suit bore the name:
H Y U N J I N
In fucking bold letters. Next to the photo stood a massive golden trophy from last season’s championship race.
Felix’s blood ran cold. His body stiffened, every inch of him suddenly awake.
And now Felix was naked in his bed.
Felix’s mouth opened wide as a raw, high-pitched scream tore out of him. “AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
The man jerked awake at once, ripping off the eye mask like a startled cat. His eyes locked with Felix’s, confusion turning to horror as he looked at the blanket slipping off Felix’s shoulders. Then he screamed too. “WHAT THE HELL! AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”
“WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?!” Felix shrieked, clutching the blanket like it was a lifeline.
“BECAUSE YOU’RE SCREAMING!” the man yelled back, scrambling up so fast that he hit his head on the headboard. “Ow! Damn it! WAIT—who the hell are you?!”
Felix pointed a shaking finger at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “WHO AM I? WHO ARE YOU?! Why am I—why are we—NAKED?!”
“Don’t yell at me!” the man shouted, yanking a pillow to cover his lower half. His hair stuck out in all directions, and his wide eyes darted around the room like he was trying to find an escape hatch. “I don’t even know your name!”
“Oh my god,” Felix groaned, face going red. He buried it in his hands for a moment, then peeked through his fingers at the photo frame. “Wait—wait a second. Are you... Oh fuck you’re really Hyunjin?!”
Hyunjin blinked, squinting like his brain was still rebooting. “What? How do you know my—OH GOD, YOU’RE FELIX?!”
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, OH GOD?!” Felix yelled, clutching the blanket tighter. “This is a nightmare. This is actual hell.”
Hyunjin made a strangled sound, half laugh, half panic. “You’re my rival! You literally tried to run me off the track last year!”
“That was an accident!” Felix shot back. “You brake-checked me, you lunatic!”
“You called me a ‘peacock haired drama queen!’” Hyunjin accused, pointing a finger at him like they weren’t both half-naked and screaming.
“WELL, YOU ARE!!” Felix snapped, then stopped, realizing how insane this entire conversation was while they were still in bed together. He groaned, grabbing a pillow and whacking his own forehead. “Oh my god, kill me now.”
Hyunjin just stared for a moment, his chest rising and falling, before muttering, “This has to be the universe’s cruelest joke. Out of all the people at that bar last night, I slept with you?!”
Felix covered his face with the pillow and mumbled, “Don’t remind me. I hate this as much as you do.”
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