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It’s after the New Year’s party of one of Chan’s friends when it happens.
The winter is cold and dreary this year. It feels endless as it sludges and trudges along and brings with it a chill that Felix felt settle in the marrow of his bones weeks ago. His mood has been — not bad, but dimmed. He feels a bit like a candlewick burning low, right as the wax is about to drown out the flame.
The inside of Hyunjin’s car is pleasantly warm, with hushed music and the sound of windshield wipers filling the space between them. Felix hasn’t said anything since the ride started, feeling sleepy and full and sluggish. Chan made sure he wouldn’t have more than three glasses of some sticky, sweet drink, but Felix has always been a lightweight, always easily affected. One after the other the drinks had turned him loose-limbed and docile and slow. It had been fun, while he was at the party, where everything was loud and bright and joyous. Now, in this hushed intimacy, the previous buzz has dissipated to a quiet hum.
With his forehead resting against the cold glass, he stares out of the window and looks for shapes in the endless white, now turned grey and ominous by the late hour. Snowflakes fall and melt against the glass, the wing mirror, in which he can make out some of his face despite the darkness. Whenever a car passes by, the sparkles from his eyeshadow catch the light and dance and twinkle like little fairy lights and Felix finds himself oddly enamoured with the thought. Wonders what he would be, if he were an object that could be decorated for the occasion.
“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin’s voice disrupts the muffled cotton of his ears, slithers in and breaks through the soft barriers.
“Hm?” Felix responds and lifts his head. The patch of skin that had been touching the window feels first cold, then very warm. It’s probably red, too. Felix rubs at it, then feels silly because he realises he’s rubbing makeup off his forehead, and probably has created streaks from where he filled his eyebrows in.
Hyunjin glances at him briefly, but doesn’t say anything about his possibly smudged makeup, or the slow way he moves. How it’s probably obvious that his mouth and tongue feel like lead, but also like a helium filled balloon. Hyunjin only smiles kindly. “I said, what are you smiling about, Yongbok?”
“Oh,” he responds and looks out of the window like it would help him catch the tail end of his stray thoughts. “I don’t remember,” Felix admits and hears the slurred quality in his voice. It’s a little embarrassing how affected he is — the fact that he’s affected at all while his brother’s best friend sits next to him, calm and nonchalant and fully in control of himself. Hyunjin didn’t drink anything but water because he drove them there and will also drive Chan back home later.
The thought makes him pout because Felix wanted them to return home together. He wanted Chan to make them hot chocolate and watch one last movie before they go to bed. But Chan had said he would stay a bit longer; Felix is aware that he still wanted to have fun with his friends and that with his busy schedule, there aren’t many chances Chan gets to truly let loose and relax. And no amount of Felix’s pouting and whining for his brother not to stay behind could change that. Felix was acting more childish than usual, he realises, more selfish too, but there’s something about his lowered inhibitions that makes him crave his brother’s gentle care, like what he enjoyed when he was still a teenager. Now that he’s twenty-one it’s embarrassing to be babied. Felix has been told plenty of times by some of Chan’s friends that he’s grown now, that he should be more self-sufficient. That it’s troublesome for him to cling to his brother and be picked up by car and chauffeured places. Chan has never made it seem like he is annoyed by the way Felix acts, or the fact that he still has to take care of him, but with what his friends are saying, Felix can assume. So he forms his assumptions about how his brother wants to start weaning him off, that he wants Felix to get a job and learn how to drive and move out so Chan can start his own family. He’s in his thirties, after all.
The thought turns him sombre.
“How much did you drink?” Hyunjin asks and there’s a teasing quality to his voice as he tacks on, “Hm? Yongbok-ah?” A large and warm hand lands on Felix’s thigh and gives him a few short squeezes, like he’s trying to get his attention. Has Felix stayed quiet for that long? He places his own hand on top of Hyunjin’s and grabs two of his fingers, curling his entire, small hand around them.
Hyunjin’s fingers are long and warm. His nails are always painted and pretty, sometimes with specks of dried paint stuck in the corners of his nail beds. He’s always dressed well, always relaxed and bright and confident. Probably one of the coolest and smartest people Felix knows, and also his brother’s oldest friend.
The sole reason for Felix’s interest in the arts and also photography comes from Hyunjin. One could argue, Felix would never have gone into fashion design if it hadn’t been for him. After all, the first camera Felix got was a birthday present from Hyunjin. The first ever exhibition Felix went to, Hyunjin took him there. He still remembers the creaking of old, wooden floors as they passed by large, ornately framed paintings and Hyunjin’s hushed voice as he answered all of Felix’s questions. He also remembers the awe he felt; not for the art, but for Hyunjin.
“Hyung,” Felix hears himself say and his voice sounds very quiet and very loud at once. “You have very pretty hands,” he tells him and squeezes the fingers that still rest across his leg. They’re quite large, too. Big enough to easily span his thigh and dwarf his knee. Felix is thinking all of this, and then, only belatedly, realises that he’s also saying it out loud. Hyunjin laughs and he pulls his hand free, only to flip it over, to make it easier for Felix to slot his own fingers in between. They’re short and chubby in comparison and the image makes Felix blush, his face throbbing with heat and his own heartbeat. He wonders how obvious it is, his crush on his older brother’s friend and the pathetic way he can’t help but feel tingles of excitement run along his spine just because of simple hand-holding.
Then, Hyunjin’s long, spindly fingers curl around his entire hand and with the light from the street-lamps passing by and casting shadows, it almost makes it seem like Felix’s hand is being swallowed by a very large spider. One whose legs have curled tight around him. It’s a bit of a chilling thought, so Felix tries to shake it off and turns to Hyunjin with a smile.
He’s facing away from him and looking at the road, but his profile is quite striking. Felix has studied it often and then taken out a notebook and, stuck in his fantasies and fancies, tried to follow what Hyunjin does and sketch him from memory. It turned out horrible every time and ended with Felix feeling incredibly embarrassed and very immature, ripping out the pages and hiding them in one of the boxes under his bed. He wonders if Hyunjin ever noticed his staring, the way his eyes would linger on the mole beneath his eye and the curve of his brow bone and nose. Felix really hopes that he didn’t. The humiliation would hurt him too much.
The car slows to a halt at a stoplight and Hyunjin turns to him. His eyes briefly scan Felix’s face, then fall to where their hands are still resting on top of Felix’s knee. He uncurls his hand from around Felix’s, taking with him the warmth of his skin, then holds it up, fingers extended. Without fully understanding what he’s doing, Felix presses their palms together and finds himself feeling warm and fuzzy somewhere low in his stomach when the different lengths of their fingers become obvious.
“You have such tiny hands, Yongbok-ah,” Hyunjin says and the low quality of his voice feels like a caress across the apple of Felix’s cheek. “So cute,” he adds, the words so soft, like the feathered edge of a bird’s wing. There’s something teasing, too, in the way that Hyunjin’s mouth forms around the words, rounding perfectly, then pulling into a mischievous smile. Felix realises that he’s staring, then, belatedly, that Hyunjin is moving closer because his vision starts to swim. He blinks it away and feels Hyunjin’s warm breath caressing his cheek, bringing with it shivers that are hot and cold as they travel across his skin. Then, that red mouth parts, audible, wet, and there’s an exhale against the shell of his ear. Almost like Hyunjin is about to kiss him. Sharply, Felix flinches away from him, feeling shy and sinking further into the seat, into his body. When he glances back, towards Hyunjin, he has already pulled away. His face now a blur of movement and shadows. Hyunjin’s body comfortably rests in the driver’s seat and his hand back on the wheel. Felix realises that he feels colder.
They’re driving again.
But Felix's face is still thrumming with flushed heat and the phantom touch of Hyunjin’s fingers and his breath remains. The feeling collects hot and dripping like warm wax, creates a path from his heart to his bellybutton. Felix squirms in his seat, then he hums, or maybe he’s mumbling something, and giggles to himself. The situation is a little funny, he decides, before he leans his head back against the glass.
“Close your eyes if you want, we still have a bit to go.” The words wash over him, cool like the ocean with the rushing of a wave that lulls him in, pulls him under.
Felix only realises that he’s dozed off when he hears Hyunjin call his name. He whines as he sits up and everything is much brighter suddenly, even before he forces his eyes to open. The music has stopped and there’s only the whirr of the heater and the windshield wipers to be heard. Felix rubs at his eyes, uncaring of the mascara and the glitter he’s rubbing into his skin and squints at Hyunjin’s grinning face. The light from a streetlight is falling through the window on Felix’s side and a quick glance tells him they arrived and the car is parked right outside his and Chan’s house that sits quiet and covered in sparkling white snow. Looking a lot like something from a post card.
“We’re here,” Hyunjin says, even though Felix has already realised this. He nods a few times then meets Hyunjin’s eyes. The light barely reaches him, which casts his face in weird shadows that make his grin look just a tad eerie. Sharper than usual.
“Thank you for driving me home, Hyung,” Felix says and notices that there are fingers on his thigh again, resting higher than before and slipping between where his legs have been pressing together. Someone’s breathing sounds very loud, but he doesn’t know if it’s his or Hyunjin’s. By now, the inside of the car has also grown too hot and Felix wishes he had taken his jacket off before, instead of only unbuttoning it. He was wearing a scarf on his way to the party, too. Where did he leave it?
He pushes his fingers blindly into his jacket pocket and finds his phone and the jingle of his keys. The seat belt is no longer pressing into his chest which means that either he had unclasped it, or Hyunjin had, while Felix was still dozing.
“Goodnight,” he says and pulls his hand out to place it on the doorhandle. The hand on his thigh squeezes, hard this time, but doesn’t release him yet.
“Goodnight, Yongbok-ah,” Hyunjin replies and his breath ghosts along the apple of Felix’s cheek once more, then his mouth. Felix thinks he must have turned around, or maybe Hyunjin has turned his head because there are fingers along his jaw and around his throat, holding him in place. Hyunjin’s lips are very soft and warm and Felix gets to enjoy them for a whole, conscious second before there’s a tongue and a thumb parting his mouth and then Hyunjin is inside of him and stealing his breath. They’re kissing, Felix realises. A quiet and far away thought. Far away like the sunset over the firmament or the swirl of snowflakes reflecting and dancing around the tall streetlights.
Felix tries to inhale but all he can feel is Hyunjin’s tongue and all he can smell is Hyunjin’s perfume, his breath loud in his ears, the sound of them kissing. The hand on his thigh moves further up, then disappears. Felix doesn’t realise it at first, but then his belt loosens and warm fingers are touching his stomach, making his muscles jump.
A sound leaves his mouth, travels right into Hyunjin’s and gets swallowed there. It does nothing; it’s not a word, not alarm, not a scream. Hyunjin doesn’t heed it, anyway. His fingers push past the waistband of Felix’s panties and further down, touching smooth skin. With an almost startling clarity Felix realises he’s wet and his legs are parting, his hips twitching into the movement of two of Hyunjin’s fingers. They tease his clit, until the wetness grows embarrassing and he’s no longer kissing Hyunjin, simply gasping and moaning into his mouth. He’s not really sure where his hands are, only that they’re gripping something so tight, his joints have grown stiff.
One finger enters him, the joint on the palm of Hyunjin’s hand pressing into his clit. Hyunjin’s fingers are pretty and long and reach further than Felix’s own, pressing with a precise hunger against the spot that turns his moans into a pitched cry. And then his head is falling back, vision swimming, mouth open in panted breaths. His tongue is quickly growing dry. He feels dizzy and sweaty, far too hot in his jacket and in the car and Hyunjin nudges a second finger inside of him and pulls his thighs further apart.
The sound of his arousal has grown all consuming now, louder than Felix’s sharp breaths, louder than Hyunjin’s whispered words. Felix’s hips move on their own, without him having to think or worry, they chase what his body craves and take him straight to the peak. He’s shaking, heated and tense, then sagging back into the car seat. The fingers remain inside of him as his pussy squeezes around them rhythmically and Hyunjin’s mouth is back on his own, pressing words against the corner of his lips, then his cheek. Felix hears none of them.
When the fingers pull out, Felix forces his eyes open and fights dizziness and nausea and shame when Hyunjin shows him the wetness that connects his fingers like spiderwebs. Hyunjin laughs, the sound not unkind, but hungry, with sharp teeth, that he parts to suck two fingers into his mouth. He hums around the taste. Felix shudders and squeezes his eyes shut when everything starts tilting on its axis.
“Sweet dreams.” Felix hears Hyunjin say and then he’s finally out of the car and walking into the freezing cold. Winds whip against his heated skin and his pants are sliding down his hips. He struggles to unlock the door for a moment, then falls inside and hears the car drive off. Somehow he makes it to his room, then inside his bed. He doesn’t change, doesn’t wash his makeup off, fighting a new wave of nausea instead.
The sleep he drifts off to is restless, and Felix dreams of spiders.
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
“Felix,” Chan’s voice calls through the closed door. He pauses and knocks once, softly, as if to not disrupt or upset him. “Felix, I got us steak for lunch. Do you wanna come out, little one? Wanna help me cook?”
Felix does want to. It’s not that he doesn’t; it’s simply that all of his limbs feel heavy and unstable like a fawn that has yet to master its first steps. His stomach turns at the thought of sitting up and there has been a persistent ache right behind his eyes.
It’s been three days since they celebrated New Year’s and Felix has shut himself inside of his room and barely comes out. Chan has tried, every day. The door is unlocked and he could simply enter, but that’s not the kind of brother he is. Even if he leaves a plate of food right in front of the door, he won’t cross any barriers that Felix has put up.
“Lix?” Chan tries again when Felix doesn’t answer and the worry in his voice is what finally makes him pull his duvet down and blink against the sunlit window of his room.
“I’ll be right there, Hyung,” he responds. His voice cracks, brittle like sandstone. Felix wonders if Chan thinks he’s coming down with something or if he suspects at all that Hyunjin had driven him home and then held him still, shoved his tongue in his baby brother’s mouth and a hand down his pants. He wonders what his brother would think if he knew that all Felix did was moan and spread his legs. The shame hits him hard once again as he thinks about how Chan had to sit in the very same seat where Hyunjin had him shaking and coming apart, loud and wet and pathetic.
“Okay, aegi, take your time.”
And Felix does. He gets up, showers, changes out of his pyjamas and into a pair of sweats and a hoodie that used to belong to Chan. The fabric is worn, soft. Loved.
Then he stands at the door to his room and wonders what it is that’s wrong with him. He’s not hurt, he had clearly enjoyed what had happened. Shamefully enough, he has spent some nights touching himself to the idea of Hyunjin being the one to do it. So Felix isn’t exactly sure where this despondence is coming from and why it has made him pull into himself. There’s an overwhelming, overbearing heaviness that sits somewhere between upset and anger and feels like the pull of rapids, pulling him under. Felix can’t really pin the source, only feels it so dense it’s near suffocating.
In truth, Felix has had a crush on Hyunjin since he was a teenager, so being touched by him shouldn’t be upsetting at all. Except there’s the fact that Hyunjin is Chan’s friend, he’s eleven years older than him. Sure, he’s always been kind, always treated him gently: Hyunjin has taught him many things about photography, and art, and books. Often, Felix has described him when asked about what his ideal boyfriend would be like and Felix has spent some afternoons daydreaming about a relationship with him. But all of that had been lighthearted. A childish puppy crush that was never supposed to turn into more because Felix has always just been the cute younger brother of his best friend. The baby of the group. Up until that night, after the party, where his fingers lingered and strayed and Felix did nothing.
The thought brings forth a new wave of hurt, of anger. Part of it at himself, but part of it at Hyunjin. Because Hyunjin never said anything. He didn’t ask Felix out, he didn’t ask him if he wanted to kiss, or if he even liked Hyunjin. Instead, he simply went ahead and took. Maybe that’s where Felix’s anger and agitation stems from; the feeling that he has lost something. That it had been taken from him, almost violently. Hyunjin had asked him if he was drunk, didn’t he? Felix doesn’t think he was, but why would Hyunjin ask that and then go ahead and kiss him, if he thought that Felix was under the influence? Or is it that Hyunjin realised something, then, in the car. Something in Felix’s behaviour that gave him away; his fantasies, his fancies, the emotions he never planned to share with anyone. He would have been fine existing without ever kissing Hyunjin, would have been fine moving on and finding someone similar, someone his own age and always just remaining his best friend’s younger brother.
But now Hyunjin has undone that. He has forever altered their relationship and made it clear that Felix’s unrealistic daydreams have taken root and become graspable, no longer just concepts.
The thought is supposed to make him happy, but it makes him feel quite rattled again. There’s no trace of excitement, only dread at having to untie these impossible knots that Hyunjin has tied around them both. And he’s left him alone with it, too. There has been no call, no text, no apology. Not a single word. Felix has been sitting in this silence, stuck in his own head, the cocoon of emotions that feel like an unbreakable wall of miasma. It’s not fair. None of this is fair.
Felix grits his teeth, then tries to exhale all that rising annoyance in a sharp breath and leaves his room.
Chan is already in the kitchen. His hair is mussed and curly and Felix knows that he most likely hasn’t left the house much, probably so he wouldn’t leave Felix alone, in case he needed him. And Felix does need him. He walks over to his brother and clings to his waist, rests his head on his shoulder and immediately feels Chan reaching back, hugging him, holding him close. His eyes sting, but Felix squeezes them shut and presses his face against the fabric of Chan’s shirt. The scent of his laundry detergent is soothing, familiar and homey. Felix’s heart is beating wildly, but standing there, in the kitchen, clinging to his brother, he thinks everything will be fine.
The silence is interrupted by soft words in his ear, Chan asking ‘Hey, what’s wrong, little one?’ and Felix opens his mouth to reply, to reassure him that it’s nothing, that he’s just tired, maybe sick. That he just needed a hug, maybe a cuddle session and a movie later, but when his mouth parts, it’s in a wet exhale, followed by a pathetic sob. It’s the proverbial dam breaking and the next moment he’s shaking and crying against Chan’s collarbones, and his shoulder, leaving snot and tears across his t-shirt. Uncontrollable and heart-wrenching and a lot like what he must have sounded like when he was a child, crying on his brother’s shoulder. Chan is used to it, he doesn’t try to interrupt him, but simply holds him closer, rests one warm hand against the back of his head and one between his shoulder blades. That’s supposed to make everything better, but somehow makes Felix feel much worse again.
For one moment Felix considers telling him.
Similarly to how he told him everything when Felix was younger; which kid at the playground said something mean to him, which student said what in school, which teachers were nice and which mean. There hadn’t been a single thing that Felix had ever kept secret from his brother. Because Chan is a fixer, he’s always solved all of Felix’s problems and he’s always been there to listen to his worries. So, surely, he can solve this, too.
But the moment passes quickly because Hyunjin isn’t a problem to solve. Hyunjin is his best friend; the one that Chan has known since he was seven years old. The person who he’d known long before Felix was even born, the one he grew up with. Felix only entered the picture much, much later. And who is he to destroy that bond, to ruin their lifelong friendship just because he’s upset that Hyunjin didn’t contact him after what had happened and didn’t confess his undying love. Hyunjin is a real adult and real adults do these kinds of things casually. Felix still feels like his take on romance is rather immature and naive. It’s on him that he’s feeling so disappointed now.
There’s no use in telling Chan anything. Felix doesn’t want them to fight and he doesn’t want his brother to be angry with Hyunjin. Felix still looks up to him, he still adores him. He is just hurt.
When he finally pulls back from Chan’s shoulder his eyes feel dry, aching and his head is throbbing from dehydration, but his heart feels slightly lighter. Chan’s hands are there, wiping his cheek and his nose in the way he knows Felix hates, that always makes him pull back and let out a crackling, little ew, Hyung.
“You used to wipe your nose on my arm and take food out of your mouth to put it in mine. This is nothing,” Chan explains, as he always does. Then he goes to take out a cooling pack and makes Felix sit down at the dining table, pressing it into a dish towel and then over Felix’s eyes. He tells him to stay there and keep it over his eyes for as long as he can. The coolness does feel nice against his heated face.
Chan steps away and resumes cooking. There’s the noise of his steps, the knife against the cutting board, and his humming. Felix has barely eaten the last few days and as he sits and waits and the scent of food fills the space, he can feel his stomach begin to rumble. It feels homey. Comfortable. Safe, even. It’s not like being cocooned in his bed, but Chan does make it easy to feel like his burden is not quite so heavy and the world is not about to collapse on top of him because of everything that has ever gone wrong. It’s easy to feel like, as long as his brother is close by, there will always be someone to hold him up, to shoulder the weight of his worries with him.
And then the doorbell rings.
Felix’s heart starts thudding loudly, suddenly anxious and nervous and not yet prepared to be perceived by anyone that isn’t Chan. But his brother is already moving towards the door, even before Felix has pulled the cooling pad away, and then the unmistakable sound of Hyunjin’s voice rings loud as a gunshot in his head. Felix sits up and pushes the dish towel away. His face is bare and his hair is held together messily, with a claw clip. He wonders if the purple under his eyes is visible, if Hyunjin had come to see him, if he’s going to apologise.
Their footsteps are moving closer and Felix is still sitting there, rooted to the chair, pale and self-conscious and fighting a new wave of nausea because he isn’t ready to face Hyunjin yet. Felix hasn’t figured out how to act like nothing is wrong, like nothing at all has changed or happened, and how to talk to him like he isn’t the first person aside from himself to have his fingers inside of Felix.
Hyunjin doesn’t seem to share his troubles, though. He arrives in the dining room with a smile and a paper bag that he places in front of Felix.
“You forgot your scarf in my car, Yongbok,” he says, in the same voice as always, wearing the same face as usual. The anger in Felix rises again. It’s hot on his face and acidic in the back of his throat, where it joins the already existing biliousness. If he opens his mouth, he’s worried what will come out. There are words, sharp and cutting, right on the tip of his tongue and pressing against the back of his teeth. He wants to scream at Hyunjin for acting the way he does. For ignoring Felix, for coming into their home now, unaffected and uncaring. He wants to take the bag and throw it in his face and ask him what he was thinking changing the nature of their relationship just like that, why he would do it at two in the morning, in his car, without ever dropping even the smallest hint of interest. He wants to question if Hyunjin even likes him. This answer he’s most terrified of.
“Hyunjin-hyung,” Felix starts and his voice crackles like burning wood, or thawing ice. Like something breaking and being ripped apart.
“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asks and he looks sincerely concerned and as genuine as always, with his handsome face and his soft eyes. “Are you sick?” His hand reaches for Felix’s forehead, fingertips barely brushing skin and then through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. Felix sits and shudders and feels hot and cold at once. He thinks he’s going to be sick.
“Our Lix is having a bit of a rough start of the year,” Chan says, his voice softened. “That’s also why I called you over. His Hyunjin-hyung always makes him feel better.” His brother’s words grow more muffled as his heart beat rises and presses past the cage of his ribs and into the back of his throat, where it gets stuck and renders him absolutely silent.
Hyunjin looks from his brother back to him, down his nose at him like Felix is something very small. Something helpless, something struggling. Like a fly stuck in a web. His smile is rather sheepish and amused when he asks, “Is that true?”
Felix doesn’t respond. He runs off, to his room, to the adjacent bathroom, and dry heaves water and bile into the toilet bowl.
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
The sunlight streaming in from his window wandered across his floorboards, then disappeared. What enters his room now is only hues of orange and lavender as Felix lies in bed again.
Chan had come to check on him immediately, but Felix brushed him off, reassuring him that he was simply feeling unwell, that it was just nausea from lack of food. Or maybe he’s caught a stomach bug. Very carefully, very aware to not cause more pain, Chan prodded and asked if his feeling unwell is the reason he cried like that. Felix had said yes.
There’s a knock against his door, but not the way his brother usually does it. Felix makes himself sit up and pulls the duvet and the blanket higher across his chest, then grabs a big shark plushie that Chan had gifted him two years ago and hugs it close. Hyunjin doesn’t wait for verbal permission before he cracks the door open and his empathetic, kind eyes fall on where Felix is resting, still shaky and pasty. He doesn’t step inside yet, but hovers, as Felix stares him down with red eyes and a dry, acrid taste in his mouth.
“Your brother went out for groceries and meds and asked me to keep an eye on you,” he explains, then steps inside with a bowl of congee that he puts on Felix’s nightstand. Felix stares at it, but remains silent, even as Hyunjin sighs and takes a seat on his bed. The duvet dips with his weight, tugging where Felix had been hoping to hide. A hand lands on top of his knee and Felix feels the heat even through his sweats, through the thick blanket and winter duvet, searing into his skin.
“Don’t touch me,” he manages to say and surprises even himself with the anger that’s so audible. Hyunjin hesitates for a moment, but then he does pull away and Felix finally looks up and finds Hyunjin’s face surprisingly conflicted. As if he suddenly started carrying the weight of his previous actions, the consequences of his thoughtlessness. He looks sad, now that Chan isn’t around. Perhaps guilty. Felix wants to use the momentum to scream at him, to tell him that he’s angry and hurt, and ask him what he was thinking. If he had been thinking at all. If Felix had just seemed that easy. What leaves his mouth instead is a pathetic, little, “Do you even like me, Hyung?”
Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him, the way that Hyunjin’s eyebrows fall and his face along with it. He crumbles a little and the sight does something weak and pathetic to Felix’s heart. Hyunjin’s eyes are firmly set on his and deeply honest when he says, “Of course, I like you.”
“But not like that,” Felix finishes helpfully. His voice sounds gravelly, like he cried a lot or like he’s about to cry again, but his eyes remain stubbornly, thankfully dry.
Hyunjin doesn’t respond immediately. He studies Felix’s face very carefully and then he exhales, loud and prolonged. His body shifts and moves on top of the bed, one of his long legs tucked under himself, then he turns to face Felix. The skin of his face is even and pale, but not sickly. He looks good. Well rested. He tilts his head and asks, “Why would you think that?”
Many words come to mind. Felix wants to insist that he would have known, that he would have been able to tell if Hyunjin had liked him even a little bit. But Hyunjin’s touches had always seemed purely friendly and his eyes never lingered. Most of the time it didn’t even seem like he took Felix seriously at all. Sometimes Felix even feared that maybe it’s his brother who Hyunjin liked.
He feels childish at his reasoning and the words that leave his mouth, but can’t do anything to stop them when he mumbles, “You didn’t even call me. You didn’t text, you didn’t say anything at all.” And Hyunjin has the audacity to look ashamed. He avoids Felix’s eyes and looks at his covered knees, his long fingers are twisting around one of the many rings he always wears. It’s funny, Felix doesn’t remember feeling any rings on him that night, when those fingers had been inside of him. He does remember his warmth, how far he could reach. The textured feeling of his tongue, running along the seam of his mouth. Each moment oddly vivid, despite the haze that had filled his head. The phantom of Hyunjin’s touch lingers.
“I wasn’t sure if you remembered,” Hyunjin admits after a moment. “And then I felt really guilty doing all that while you were possibly drunk. At first I really thought you were just slightly tipsy, but then, thinking back on it, I really wasn’t so sure anymore. I kind of didn’t dare to reach out over the phone.” When Hyunjin looks up next, there’s a soft little grin on his face, something charming and almost boyish. “That’s why I was so glad that your brother invited me today, so I could apologise in person.”
“You regret it?” Felix whispers, hopeful and melting already. His anger dissipating in the face of Hyunjin’s few, simple words. His soft admission. Hyunjin reaches out and his hand is dry and soft and warm around Felix’s own. Large and all encompassing, too. This time he doesn’t attempt to push him away.
“I regret the way I did it,” he admits and slips his long, spindly fingers in between Felix’s pudgy ones. “But I do like you, Yongboks. I’ve actually wanted you for a few months now.” The end of those mumbled, raspy words gains an edge of something almost roguish. Hyunjin’s grin tugs at one corner of his mouth, pulling his lips into something lopsided, but no less attractive.
Felix doesn’t spend time on the choice of the words. The want that alludes to something that doesn’t necessarily promise a relationship, or even need one. He finds himself flattered, instead.
Flattered because Hyunjin wants him, has wanted him, and he didn’t tell him until now, but he certainly let Felix know. Feeling rather coy, Felix dips his chin lower and presses it into the soft material of the shark he’s still clinging to. He murmurs a very soft ‘Really?’ against the material and can tell that his face has taken on a happy little flush. Hyunjin is still holding his hand and it’s growing slightly clammy with nerves and jitters, especially when Hyunjin leans in closer and echoes an equally soft ‘Yes, really.’
And then he shatters some of Felix’s illusions by adding, “But you know your brother, he’d never allow us to date, not with our age difference.”
“Oh,” Felix replies, dejected, and tugs his hand away.
Hyunjin doesn’t chase it, allows Felix’s upset and the silence to linger for a moment. One breath passes, then two, and almost as if he had been counting, Hyunjin adds, “Unless… I mean, if we don’t tell him, it’s fine, right? For now, we would need to keep it a secret. Sadly that means no dates, but we can meet up at my place. Get to know each other better.”
“Get to know each other better?” Felix echoes the words, even though something, some vague seed of disappointment tells him that he thinks he knows what Hyunjin is alluding to. This is probably what relationships between real adults are like, he reckons. Not like his rose tinted fantasies of walking through parks with falling cherry blossom petals, but meet-ups at home and conversations shared between the sheets. It’s a little like in Hollywood movies and American shows.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin breathes and his hand is on Felix’s knee and then inching upwards and Felix is stuck between the previous shyness that had started to dim and the disappointment that had just started to sprout. “Let me show you how,” he says and pulls the shark away, then the blanket and the duvet. They go easily, slip away from Felix’s relaxed hold.
Felix’s body is very warm between the sheets and he feels sweaty already, a little bashful. He hasn’t prepared for this, didn’t shave his legs. It’s now been a few hours since he showered and while he has barely moved, it still makes him self conscious. Felix is also not sure when Chan will return and worries a little about it, though Hyunjin shushes him quickly and reassures him that they have enough time for this. He doesn’t explain what this is, but he tugs on Felix’s sweatpants and then his panties and Felix lies there, a slight tremble to his limbs, and watches the sharpness of those teeth and that smile come to a knife point’s edge. But Felix doesn’t resist, even when warm hands trace a path up his shins and to his knees. Hyunjin climbs onto his bed and his dark clothes look a lot like a blotch of ink against Felix’s pale pink sheets.
“Just relax,” Hyunjin says against the inside of his knee, then tugs his legs open and hooks them over his shoulders. If he had been flustered before, Felix certainly feels very embarrassed now. His hips are hovering in the air, goosebumps running down the back of his thighs as Hyunjin stares and mumbles a swear against the skin of his thigh. Felix fights the urge to cover himself and to close his legs, but grabs fistfuls of his blanket instead. Hyunjin moves closer and exhales. His breath is very warm and when it hits his pussy, Felix realises that he’s started getting wet already. When Hyunjin presses his mouth against him, Felix twitches, a startled little sound escaping him that’s quickly drowned out by the trembling breaths that follow. No one’s ever touched him like this before, though Felix can’t lie and say he’s never imagined it.
Hyunjin’s tongue is textured and hot, his hands large and squeezing Felix’s thighs, caressing the fuzz over his skin he didn’t have the foresight to shave. It’s strange to see Hyunjin’s cropped, dark hair between his legs, stranger still to hear him, eager and greedy where he laps Felix up. His eyes are very dark and he’s still staring Felix down as his hands shift closer to his hips and then tug him closer, pull him in. A tongue presses inside of him and Felix lets out a sound he’s never heard himself make before and then he can no longer watch, but presses his head back into his pillow, eyes squeezing shut. His hips shift and he’s fucking himself back against Hyunjin’s mouth, then two of his fingers that squeeze just past.
Hyunjin had been right; they had more than enough time before Chan returned. Not because his brother took so long, but because it took no time at all for Felix to cum, his legs shaking where he’s pressed them so close against Hyunjin’s red ears.
He’s very careful when he lowers Felix’s hips back to the bed and as he lies there, panting and satiated and weak-limbed, Hyunjin tugs his pants open and pulls his dick out. Felix flushes deeper at the sight, then even more so because one of Hyunjin’s hands pulls his thighs apart and then Hyunjin is leaning in. His hand is working over himself quickly, but he presses close enough for Felix to feel the spongy head of his cock press against his entrance and his breath hitches again, this time in panic.
“Wait, Hyung, I’ve never—” he tries to warn Hyunjin, who just smiles, still all teeth, his pretty eyes disappearing. Felix smells himself on his breath when he leans in, caging him into his warmth. And just as Felix thinks they’re about to kiss, Hyunjin presses his mouth against his cheek, then his throat, his ear, sending goosebumps down his neck and along his spine.
“Don’t worry, Yongboks, Hyung’s not gonna fuck you today,” Hyunjin pants and his breath is so hot, it’s almost scalding, yet oddly enough leaves him shuddering. Felix doesn’t feel like he can go again, but the head of Hyunjin’s dick rubs against his clit, his knuckles brushing over Felix’s pussy with each jerky movement. It sounds so wet; their mingling breaths and each movement that leaves Hyunjin sticky and stickier with Felix’s juices. He knows he’s not ready yet, but his hips move, chasing the friction, chasing the feeling of Hyunjin pressing against his entrance. Maybe Hyunjin knows or maybe he can tell something that Felix cannot, but the smile is audible in his voice when he adds, “Hyung is going to cum on you, that’s fine, right?”
Felix exhales a ‘yeah’ that’s barely a word, mostly just breath. A hand grabs his hip and Hyunjin’s movements grow faster, more erratic. He moans and groans and Felix feels him press against his opening again, press in — not all the way, not really penetrating, just far enough for Felix to feel it when he starts cumming. He thinks he’s saying his name and his hands are gripping at Hyunjin’s sleeves, his shoulders. This is dangerous, even Felix knows this. Hyunjin should know it, too. But instead of pulling away, he stays pressed closed and Felix can feel where some of his cum is leaking out, trickling down to his asshole.
“Hyung, wait,” Felix whispers and then Hyunjin is kissing him and he’s all tongue and teeth again. Robbing him of his breath and his words and rending Felix quiet. When Hyunjin pulls his dick away, he quickly presses his fingers back inside of Felix. Words pass from Hyunjin’s mouth directly into his. Felix thinks he’s saying something, urging him for more, for another, but the blood is rushing so quickly in Felix’s ears, all he can hear is his own, pathetically racing heart. When Felix cums for the second time, Hyunjin finally pulls away.
The tremble of his legs had been bad before, but is worse now. Hyunjin doesn’t bother cleaning him up; he simply pulls his panties back on, ignoring the disgusted face Felix makes as the fabric sticks to his skin and to the wetness between his legs. Next he pulls the sweatpants up, then the covers, then lies down on top of them like nothing had happened between them and there isn’t sweat running down his forehead and his upper lip.
“Hyung, wasn’t that dangerous?” Felix voices his doubts. Hyunjin next to him remains relaxed. He’s still somewhat catching his breath, but aside from his sweaty face and the redness to his ears, he looks the same as before.
When he turns to face Felix, their noses almost brush. Hyunjin smiles and turns his body towards him and it’s a weird image to see him like that, in Felix’s bed, in his room, fingertips wrinkly from Felix’s juices. A blotch of ink spilled over his sheets. There’s something perverse about it. He asks, “Dangerous? What do you mean, Yongbok?”
“Just,” Felix starts, but grows smaller right before he can get the rest of the words out. “Your— and your fingers. What if I get pregnant?”
The laugh that leaves Hyunjin’s mouth is high pitched and endlessly amused. His shoulders are relaxed, shaking, as he cackles and giggles in Felix’s sheets, smelling like him and like something forbidden. He pats Felix’s cheek and his grin is still in place, like he hasn’t got a worry in the world. He assures Felix by saying, “Oh, Yongbok, don’t be silly. That’s a myth, you know? No one gets pregnant that way.”
“Really?” Felix asks, hesitant and unsure if he should believe it. From everything that he’s learnt in school and that Chan has told him during their very awkward talk, Felix knows that he should be careful. But Hyunjin has no reason to lie to him. And Hyunjin is older, more experienced. He’s taught Felix so many things and Felix has never doubted him before, so it would be wrong to start now.
“Yes,” Hyunjin reaffirms and presses a kiss against Felix’s mouth. His lips are still sticky. “Now, let’s get cleaned up before your brother comes back.”
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
When Chan comes back through the door, Felix and Hyunjin are in the dining room. Felix has finished the bowl of congee that Chan had made and as soon as his brother spots it, relief blooms clear and loud on his face.
“Lix, you look a lot better. You don’t feel sick anymore?” Chan asks as he walks past him. He sighs as he drops the bags of groceries on the counter and Hyunjin gets up immediately to help him put things away. Felix watches the way they move in tandem, so used to each other there’s no need to speak. When he remains quiet for too long, Chan turns back to him with his brows once again pinched and Felix forces a smile, even though his stomach feels like a big, gaping hole has opened. A whole entire chasm that he has no hope of ever closing again.
“No,” he lies and it becomes a little easier this time around. The smile remains glued on even when Chan steps closer and brushes careful, cool fingers through his hair. His palm presses against Felix’s forehead, like he’s testing for fever, then to the back of Felix’s neck when he goes to touch his cheek and the corner of his mouth to Felix’s skin instead.
“You don’t feel warm, so it shouldn’t be a stomach bug,” Chan says before he pulls away. His hand moves from Felix’s nape to his shoulder. “But I got you some meds you can take in a bit, okay? And I got you coconut milk, so have some of that, too.” Felix just nods and rests his head against Chan’s stomach, lips pursed, like he’s truly still in pain, or like he’s sick and in need of attention. Chan just sighs around a very soft ‘aigoo’ and runs his fingers through Felix’s hair, the way he always does when Felix isn’t feeling well.
Truthfully, he doesn’t have a reason to act this way. He had his conversation with Hyunjin, they cleared things up. Hyunjin said he wants him and then he showed him just how much he wants him, so why does Felix still feel queazy? Like his skin is crawling and the hole in his stomach is growing and reaching towards his chest cavity, eating away at his heart. He feels lonely.
Hyunjin puts a package of coconut milk in front of him and sits down in the chair opposite of Felix. His face is so sweet and open and he wears the kind of smile that Chan often does; indulgent. Placating.
“Hyunjin must have really helped you feel better, huh?” His brother jokes and Felix feels his laugh in the way his stomach moves, but can’t bring himself to laugh along. Hyunjin does, though. Shows all his bright, pearly teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. He’s blameless.
And then his eyes meet Felix’s again and that sweet and kind smile is suddenly the same sharp thing from before, the knife’s edge that cuts, or the pointed spider teeth that dig into Felix’s skin, leave him feeling hot and cold at the same time. Right there, in front of his brother, he holds Felix’s gaze and mumbles, “Yeah I guess I did.”
Felix doesn’t reply, he turns his face into Chan’s stomach.
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
Late at night, when he’s already in bed, Felix gets a text message. He knows whom it’s from even before he’s picked up his phone or checked his screen.
‘You should come to my place tomorrow, Yongboks. Let Hyung enjoy his time with you’ the message reads and Felix stares at it until his eyes start burning and the ache in his chest starts to feel like he can’t breathe. He once again doesn’t know if he did the right thing, once again feels similarly to how he did after that night in the car. Used, Felix realises, belatedly. He feels used.
Hyunjin says he likes him and he says he wants him, but is that love?
Felix wipes at his eyes and texts back, ‘I’ll be there’.