Archive of Our Own

“Something’s not right about what I’m doing but I’m still doing it— living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life is a sheet of black glass. If I fell through the floor I would keep falling. The enormity of my desire disgusts me. ”

Richard Siken, Birds Hover The Trampled Field

The end of the world comes on a Saturday.

Here sits Chan, surrounded by his members on the floor of his new apartment with Jeongin, and here stands Felix in a little black dress and heels with pretty makeup and long hair.

“Holy shit,” Jisung claps his hands together, “You look like a girl!”

“You think?” Felix grins, twisting to look at himself from different angles, “Hyunjinnie did a good job, huh?”

There has not been nearly enough alcohol consumed by any of them for this to be happening.

“What do you think, Channie-hyung?” Hyunjin hooks his chin over Felix’s shoulder, both of them turning to him.

He feels flushed pink, overly warm and a little sweaty and he thinks his heart has a very real chance of bursting out of his chest.

Hyunjin’s hands are big, and Chan watches them smooth down Felix’s sides like he’s trying to accentuate curvy hips that aren’t there. Chan wants to touch the dip of his waist.

“Uh, yeah, very- yeah. Very pretty,” He swallows, thick and choking.

Felix’s lips tug up into a smile, sharp white teeth peeking out between red lipstick and shiny gloss.

“Wow,” Jeongin breathes, his knees drawn to his chest. His eyes are wide and unblinking, his cheeks flushed.

Chan wants to coo at him, tease him, but he’s sure his face matches Jeongin’s all too similar.

“You like it, Innie?” Felix gives a little turn, eyes crinkling with his smile.

“You’re so pretty, hyung,” He nearly whispers.

“You should call him noona,” Seungmin teases, pinching Jeongin’s shoulder to make him jump.

Felix laughs, and Chan’s stomach churns.

“I’m not calling him noona,” Jeongin flushes deeper, “You guys are weird.”

He doesn’t even know the half of it. Chan’s hands twitch with jealousy over Hyunjin’s, still touching Felix’s hips.

“Are you gonna dress up next, Hyunjinnie?” Changbin asks, legs crossed and relaxed. Chan feels jealous of him too, his ease in the moment when Chan feels wound up tight enough to snap with a breeze.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Hyunjin grins back, something glinting in his eyes.

He wonders distantly how they got here, but the few empty bottles of soju litter the floor of the new apartment answer his question. It’s supposed to be a housewarming, celebrating Chan and Jeognin as the last of the pairs to finally settle into their new apartments.

And now Felix is dolled up in his living room after a stupid drinking game and Chan feels like he might never move on from this moment.

“Why do you even have that dress?” Jisung questions, and Chan really wishes everyone would just stop talking.

“I just thought it was pretty,” Hyunjin plays with the thin little straps hugging Felix’s shoulders, “It looks better on Felix than it does on me.”

“Shut up,” Felix laughs, “The color looks nicer on you.”

“You should see the panties I got that match it,” Hyunjin giggles and presses his forehead to Felix’s.

Chan really wishes everyone would stop talking.

“Why are you going around buying dresses and panties!” Jisung cries, throwing himself back in feigned distress.

“Why do you care? You wanna see, Jisungie?” Hyunjin teases, “Maybe I should dress you up in them for Minho-hyung.”

Chan closes his eyes and tries to drown the rest of the conversation out.

When he blinks his eyes back open later, the conversation has been shifted to a new Italian place opening up down the street from Minho and Jisung’s new place.

Chan breathes for the first time in nearly half an hour.

Felix is just coming out of the bathroom, changed into sweatpants.

He meets Chan’s eyes from across the room, gives him a small smile and steps over Jisung and Seungmin to settle on the couch next to him.

“Hi,” Felix leans into Chan’s side.

He’s so warm, soft and smelling like Chan’s shampoo. He must have showered, must have borrowed Chan’s products in the bathroom. It shouldn’t elicit the feelings it does. 

“Hey,” He swallows around the lump in his throat. It’s not in his control when he presses his nose to the side of Felix’s head and inhales.

“You okay?” Felix hums.

The skin of his arm is so soft against Chan’s.

“Sure,” Chan laughs, “Are you?”

“‘Course,” Felix draws his knees to his chest. He’s so small like this, curling into Chan’s side.

“You, uh. You really did look pretty in the dress and stuff.”

Felix turns to grin at him, the tip of his pink little tongue between his teeth. “You think so?”

“Of course,” Chan swallows. He rubs Felix’s knee through his sweatpants, imagines gray cotton is black lace. He’s sick, he’s so sick. He can’t move his hand away.

“I’ve never worn a dress like that before,” Felix hums, “Do you really think I looked like a girl? Like Jisungie said?”

It's teasing, lighthearted, but Chan’s stomach turns, “Uh, yeah. I- I guess, yeah. You'd be a really pretty girl.”

Felix hums again, a small smile on his face. Chan prays that God is listening and Felix can’t hear his thoughts, can’t see right through to his rotten core.

It’s horrible really, because it’s not the first time Chan has thought he looks like a girl. Not in the first hundred, probably, and it wracks Chan with guilt every time. It’s just easier, sometimes, which is the worst part.

He keeps himself still and unmoving when Felix rests his head against his shoulder.

___

Sometimes when Chan dreams, he dreams in colors.

It’s yellow and blue and warm, and his hands are a mass of redyellowbluewhite mixed into skin. It’s warm, it’s so warm all around him and there are streaks of black slashing across everything.

Hip bones under hands.

He can’t breathe, sweltering under the heat and intensity. Dots of soft brown, sharp white. Freckles and teeth.

There’s pink somewhere too, Chan’s hand is pushing into it. Warm, hot, slick.

Arousal, distantly. Something throbs. Him, maybe. His heart, his head. His cock.

Blonde hair, long and curled. Dark eyelashes, brown eyes. Black lace. His hands.

Yellow and blue and warm.

When Chan wakes up he’s soaked in sweat, lungs burning.

He’s hard, aching and leaking into his boxers. He doesn’t touch himself. He can’t. Despite himself, he thinks about the color of Felix’s body under his hands.

___

They’re getting styled for a photoshoot when Felix walks out in a skirt.

Again, Chan feels the ground under his feet, unstable and shaking. But maybe it’s just him. Maybe the world has always been ending and it’s only taken him this long to notice.

Felix twirls to show Seungmin the way the skirt flares out with his movements.

“Ah, noona is back,” Jeongin hums beside Chan.

“I thought it was too weird for you to call him noona,” Minho teases him.

Jeongin squirms, pink cheeks, “It’s not my fault he looks like a girl.”

And he does. Pink lips and curled hair and a dark blue skirt that falls to the middle of his soft thighs. His top is cropped enough to show a sliver of his belly, the fabric sparkly and looking itchy. Chan shivers with sympathy.

A director yells from somewhere that it’s time to take duo shots, and Chan gets paired up with Felix and he burns like his insides are made of flames.

“This is cool,” Felix touches the lapel of Chan’s blazer as they’re directed into their first pose, “The styling is sick.”

Chan’s blazer isn’t anything special, really. A deep blue, the same color as Felix’s skirt. It’s got embroidered flowers all along it and Felix rubs his thumb over the little string roses.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Chan swallows.

The director yells again. Closer, hands lower, turn towards each other.

Felix’s skin dimples when Chan presses his fingers to his waist.

He’s so malleable. He’d bend and squish and mold under Chan’s hands.

“This okay?” Felix asks when they change poses.

The composition of the shot is supposed to be sexy, Chan facing the camera and Felix facing Chan.

His face is visible over Felix’s shoulder, and the director asks Chan to grip his waist, pull him close. Their chests are pressed together like this, Felix’s thigh wedged between Chan’s legs to get the angle right.

“Sure, ‘course,” Chan breathes calmy.

The director yells, cameras start clicking.

He keeps a straight face, eyes lidded and heavy.

He knows what this shot will look like when it’s taken.

It’ll look like he’s holding a girl, a woman, her blonde hair and blue skirt and painted nails gripping his shoulder. Felix’s face is entirely obscured for this one. In the next, they direct Felix to turn his head so only a sliver of his face is seen, his high cheekbones and small nose and pretty lips. Just enough to tell who he is.

Chan wonders if they’ll put the two images back to back or if they’ll only choose one. If they’ll select the one without Felix’s face, if people will look at it and wonder who the girl held firmly in Chan’s arms is. What they think when they realize it’s a boy.

It makes bile rise in his throat. He swallows it down, burning, and pushes through. A few more pictures, less intense this time, then some solo shoots for them both.

When they’re finally done, he sits with Felix in the back and watches Hyunjin and Jisung take their turn.

“Think they’d let me keep this if I asked?” Felix nudges him.

“What?”

“The skirt,” Felix plays with the hem, and Chan’s teeth ache at the tan skin of his thighs as the fabric rises up, “I kind of want it.”

“I mean,” Chan’s mouth feels dry, “You can ask, I guess. Or just buy it yourself. Do you know the brand?”

“LV,” Felix smoothes the fabric over his lap.

“They’ll probably just let you have it then,” Chan can’t resist reaching out, feeling the material between his thumb and forefinger.

“Do you like it?”

He wishes Felix would stop asking him that.

He nods.

“Maybe I should start wearing skirts and shit. Really lean into the unisex thing, y’know?”

It feels like a direct target, a personal hit.

“You want to?” He feels like he’s choking. A headache is starting to form behind his eyes.

“Why not? I kind of like it. It makes me feel pretty instead of like, sexy.”

“You don’t like feeling sexy? But you’re so good at it,” Chan grins, closing his eyes. He lets his head fall back against the wall.

“Ah, sheesh,” Felix laughs, hitting Chan’s bicep, “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just different.”

“Hm,” Chan hums, “You should do whatever makes you feel good, yeah?”

___

Tonight he dreams that Felix is on top of him. Felix, but not Felix.

His face but not his body. He rolls his hips, small hands holding onto Chan’s chest as he moans.

He lifts his hips and slams them back down.

Chan touches him, finds fleshed out hips and thighs.

He can’t help but push his hips up into the tight heat, jostling Felix backwards as he moans, and moans, high-pitched and sweet.

Everything is wetter than it should be. He looks at Felix and he finds tits where his chest should be flat. He finds a cunt where his cock should be.

Felix is riding him and Felix is a girl, and she guides Chan’s hand to touch between her legs and feel the way she drips, feel the way she opens up around Chan’s cock. She bounces and moans and her tits are small but they fit perfectly into the palm of Chan’s hand.

She sounds so sweet, her cheeks flushed and she’s so pink all over, hair spilling over her shoulders as she takes her own pleasure. Chan rubs her clit with his thumb, brings her over the edge until she cries out and he’s so close now, he’s so close-

He wakes up gasping.

___

It all starts seeping in.

It’s Chan’s fault, really, because he’s weak and he’s rotten and there’s always been something wrong with him.

It slips out at breakfast, the two of them alone at a table backstage.

There’s tiny pieces of rice stuck to Felix’s lips and Chan reaches out to brush them off with a laugh, “Silly girl.”

Felix’s eyes are so big. They blink at him once, and Chan feels the floor fall from under his feet. His thumb is still on Felix’s bottom lip.

“Uh,” His voice feels tight, “Sorry, that was so weird-”

“It’s okay,” Felix breathes. Chan can feel the shift of his mouth under his finger. He rips his hand away like he’s been burned.

“Okay. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Chris,” Felix smiles at him. Kind, so kind. His pretty brown eyes and pink mouth.

He excuses himself from the table with a shitty excuse and busies himself for the rest of their time backstage with his laptop.

___

It would be easier if Felix was a girl, Chan thinks, and immediately feels so guilty for it his breakfast sours in his stomach.

But he isn’t, and Chan knows this, and there’s another layer to it all that he doesn’t even want to begin to touch.

He needs to get normal and fast. He needs to shake this whole thing off, needs to get his head back on straight.

There was a time, once, forever ago, where the idea of Felix was so overwhelming that Chan didn’t know what to do with himself.

Just the thought of him threatened to crack Chan’s ribs, make his organs burst bloody and bruised. He felt so much and he didn’t know what to do with it all. Where to put it.

They were so young then, Felix was so young, so baby-faced and new.

And Chan loved him. He promised him everything he could. He was hard on him, enough that it makes Chan ache to remember, but the thought of him leaving was like his own heart being ripped from his chest.

He was taken away, for a bit. And in the aftermath, when the cameras were off, Felix had clung to him backstage as sobs wracked his body and Chan had held him like he was afraid he was going to crumble into nothing.

He’d held him all through the night too, squished onto Chan’s twin mattress with the knowledge that everything might be over when the sun comes back up. And Felix had tucked his face into Chan’s neck and whispered so quietly, “I love you, hyung.”

“Ah,” Chan had choked up, dug his fingers into Felix’s hips, “Me too, Lix.”

“No,” Felix sniffled, “No, I really love you, Chris. I- I’m-”

And Chan had told him to stop talking. Told him not to say another word. They can’t say those kinds of things, not to each other, not to anyone. Not to Chan, especially, when he is weak and vulnerable and so fucking angry that his body vibrates with it.

Felix had made a sad sort of whimpering sound, tucked himself back into Chan’s neck and whispered an apology.

After it all, they never spoke about it again. Felix never brought it up, Chan convinced himself it was a grief-induced hallucination.

If Felix was a girl, none of it would have happened. No terrifying conversations kept under the cover of darkness, no risk of ruined careers and lives banished to secrecy. 

All Chan does is hurt.

___

It’s quieter in the new dorms, with just two of them.

He’s glad for the short distance between them all. They all have each other's door codes, have found ease in letting themselves into each other's apartments.

He’s half asleep on the couch when Felix lets himself in with a tupperware full of cookies.

“Hey,” Chan groans, cracking his back as he sits up, “What’re you up to?”

“Dropping these off for Innie,” Felix gestures to the tub, “Is he here?”

Chan shakes his head, “Out with Seungminnie.”

“Asshole. He said he was gonna be home.”

Chan laughs, “Ah, sorry. You can drop ‘em in the kitchen if you want.”

“Sure,” Felix nods, taking himself to the kitchen.

“Have you eaten?” Chan checks the time, late enough that it’ll be tomorrow soon.

“Nah, been baking.”

“We can order in if you want? I mean, if you wanna stick around. If you’re not busy. Don’t, like-”

“Ordering in sounds good,” Felix reappears with a smile, and only then does Chan register that his plaid pajama bottoms are actually a long skirt.

“Okay, cool,” He rasps, “You, uh, you pick. Whatever you want, I’m buying.”

Felix lets out an evil little laugh, taking his spot on the couch next to Chan. He grabs Chan’s phone without asking, pulls up a delivery app and fills the cart with chicken and pork and noodles. Their fingers brush when he hands Chan the phone to put in his own order.

“Movie?” Felix settles back when their order is placed.

Chan nods. He looks at Felix’s outstretched legs, how long they look draped in the thin fabric.

“You pick,” Chan nods towards the TV.

“I’m so special, I get to pick everything tonight,” Felix grins.

It goes in one ear and out the other. He’s too busy watching his own hand reach out and touch the fabric covering Felix’s thigh, unable to stop himself.

Felix doesn’t even pause to acknowledge it, keeps shuffling through Netflix while Chan rubs at his skirt like a freak.

“When did you get this?”

“Hm?” Felix looks down at Chan’s hand, “Oh, the other week. They wouldn’t let me keep the one from the photoshoot, but they sent me this one instead. You like?”

“How come you always ask me that?” Chan tries to laugh away the stiffness in his chest but it tumbles out awkward and jilted.

Felix just tilts his head, shrugs, “I just like knowing what you think.”

He’s not sure what to say. His lips feel cracked and dry. “You always look good, Lix. I like it.”

The corner of Felix’s mouth twitches upward.

The arrival of their food saves him, and they eat with little conversation as the movie Felix picked plays loudly on the screen.

He nudges Chan at some part he’s particularly excited about and Chan laughs when he sees the sauce smeared onto Felix’s cheek.

“Mate,” He licks his thumb to wipe away the sauce, sticky and warm from Felix’s skin, “You gotta be neater when you eat.”

“What, I’m not a silly girl this time?”

Ice runs suddenly up Chan’s spine.

“Ah, c’mon, don’t make fun of me. I said sorry-”

“And I said it was okay,” Felix interrupts. He’s looking at him in a particular way that Chan can’t decipher. It makes his insides twist.

“Right. Still. It was weird of me-”

“I didn’t think so.” It’s so blunt, so honest. Like he really doesn’t care that Chan called him a girl. So unbothered in a way Chan has never felt.

Chan blinks. He stretches his fingers as far out as they go and then curls them in again. “Um. Okay.”

Felix looks at him for another moment and then turns back to the movie. He looks- satisfied? Content, maybe. Chan feels dizzy. He touches Felix’s skirt again, grounding himself with the soft material.

"I mean- do you feel like a girl?" The words slip out before he can stop them.

"I don't think so," Felix answers easily, "I like to feel feminine, sometimes. I like the contrast of feminine and masculine and I like being kind of ambiguous, but I don't feel like a girl. I like being a man as much as I like looking like a woman. Does that make sense?"

"Sure," Chan nods, thinking it over. 

By the time the movie ends, they’re full and sleepy, dragging as Chan turns the TV off and forces himself up to throw away their food.

“Crashing here?”

“Can I?” Felix yawns. His eyes look so heavy.

“Always,” Chan helps him up and they creep through the quiet apartment. “You, uh. You can take Jeonginnies bed if you want. Doesn’t seem like he’s coming back tonight.”

Felix shakes his head and lets himself into Chan’s room.

“Can I borrow this?” He swipes a t-shirt from Chan’s dresser.

“Uh, yeah. That’s dirty, though, I can get you something clean.”

“Nah,” Felix proceeds to pull his shirt off and Chan can’t look away. He should, he really should.

It’s not right, how he looks at Felix. He knows this.

Still, he watches Felix slip on his day-old shirt and something selfish and possessive stirs hot in his stomach.

He finally peels his eyes away when Felix takes his skirt off, takes the time to take off his own clothes and slip into the bathroom to brush his teeth and calm the erratic beat of his heart.

Deep breaths. He looks at himself in the mirror, the dark circles under his eyes and the frizz of his hair gone two days unwashed. Toothpaste foams around his swollen lips, dry and bitten from nervous chewing. There’s nothing to be done about how he looks now. He spits and rinses his mouth.

When he comes back into the room, Felix is under the covers of his bed, a mess of blonde hair spread out on his pillow.

He wonders if he can see the way Chan’s heart pounds.

“Should I-”

“Just turn off the lights and get in bed,” Felix doesn’t look away from him, even as he crosses the room in just his boxers. He burns hot under the look.

Crawling into bed next to Felix feels more natural than it should.

Felix makes a sleepy noise and curls up against Chan immediately.

“Sleepy, hm?” He pets Felix’s hair. He can smell his shampoo and he indulges himself, pressing his nose to the top of his head.

“Mhm. ‘m a sleepy girl.”

Chan’s fingers tighten around Felix’s shoulders.

“Yeah?”

Felix hums.

“Okay. G’night, sleepy girl.”

“Night, Chris,” Felix sighs, words already slurring.

___

Felix is in his arms. Kissing his neck.

Chan touches the frame of his body, delicate and small under his hands.

Felix shivers, goosebumps erupting up his arms.

“You okay?” Chan rubs a hand over his shoulder, tries to warm him up.

“Mm. I miss you,” Felix tells him.

“Miss me?” Chan laughs, “I’m right here.”

The look in Felix’s eyes when he pulls back is far away.

Chan looks around the room and it takes a minute to realize they’re back in their old dorm. The one from when they first debuted.

When he looks back at Felix, he’s suddenly 7 years younger.

A baby practically, looking at Chan like he used to.

“Lix?” He whispers, and his voice cracks. He looks down at his own hands, finds them less scared and calloused. He touches his own cheek, smooth like it hasn’t been since he started growing facial hair. He can’t be older than 21.

“You won’t leave me, right?”

Chan frowns. He’s careful about the way he touches Felix here. Hesitant. He’s not sure what he’s allowed.

“Of course not. I told you- always, yeah? I’ll always find you.”

“You just look so sad sometimes,” Felix’s small hand cups Chan’s cheek.

“I’m not sad,” His tongue feels thick in his mouth.

Felix’s eyes are watery, big and still so innocent. There’s no weathering from age and hardship yet. His cheeks are still round and his nose is dotted in freckles, his lips swollen like they get when he cries.

“It’s okay, you know.”

“What is? Lix, I don’t understand.”

His voice is still deep and honeyed, his accent in English so thick, “How you look at me. You don’t have to look so sad. It’s okay.”

“Felix,” He trembles.

He thinks of his face at 21, if it’s the face Felix is seeing now. He did look sad then, he knows this. He’s seen pictures and videos of himself, the way he perpetually looked close to tears. Like a kicked puppy, Changbin joked one time.

It scares him to think that he looked at Felix with that kind of weight for so long.

“I don’t mean to,” He tells him, wants to beg for him to understand.

“Do I scare you?” Felix cocks his head.

His hair is lavender now, his cheeks a little slimmer. It’s a few years later, it must be.

“No.” Yes. “Why would you scare me?”

Felix blinks at him. Chan blinks back.

Suddenly Felix is Felix again, long blonde hair and toned arms. Chan wants to cry.

“It’s okay,” Felix tells him. “You don’t have to be scared.”

“I’m not-” Chan chokes, “I’m not scared.”

“Okay,” Felix whispers. He leans in to kiss Chan’s cheek, “It’s all okay, Chris.”

When he wakes up this time, nausea rolls over him. He stumbles to the bathroom cold and sweaty, trips over his own feet and lands on the floor.

“Hyung?” Jeongin calls from across the hall.

“I’m fine!” Chan croaks back.

He doesn’t attempt to get up. He resigns himself to the floor, lets his eyes close. The tile is cold against his cheek.

“Hyung?” Jeongin knocks on the bathroom door.

“I’m okay, Yennie, promise,” He takes a slow breath, tries to breathe through the dizziness still spinning in his head.

“You sound sick, hyung. Should I call Changbin-hyung? Or Felix”

“No, no, I just need a minute. Go back to sleep, really, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay. Call if you need.”

It’s guilt, he thinks, that’s making the sickness so strong.

He wants Felix in ways that he shouldn’t and he’s known this for too long but the weight of it crashes into him sudden and splintering.

For so long, if he didn’t think about it then it wasn’t real. He could look at Felix’s pretty lips and small hands and big eyes and he could pretend it didn’t mean what it does.

But it does, and he knows that, and bile burns the back of his throat as he forces himself to sit up before he can puke on the floor.

He takes another deep breath.

He just needs to breathe.

___

The day Jisung comes to Chan to announce that he and Minho are together is entirely expected and drastically underwhelming.

“Seriously?” Jisung pouts, slumping onto the couch of Chan’s studio.

“Sorry, Sungie,” Chan laughs, “But, c’mon. It’s not, ah. Surprising? I’m more shocked you guys weren’t official before this.”

“Ugh,” Jisung crosses his arms but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks, “I guess it just took the cohabitation.”

“Well, I’m happy for you, you know that. There’s stuff we’ll have to work out with the company but it won’t be too much. I’ll be there the whole time, y’know?”

Jisung nods. “Thanks, hyung.”

“Sure,” Chan rolls forward in his chair to put a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, “That all you wanted to talk about?”

“I guess,” Jisung shrugs. He turns to lay down, cheeks cushioned on the pillows. “How are things with you?”

“Fine,” He stiffens, “Good. Yeah, good.”

Jisung squints at him, “Yeah? And how are things with Lixxie?”

“What?” A nervous laugh bubbles from Chan’s chest, “Lix? Fine? Why would they, uh, not be? They’re fine, he’s- yeah. Good.”

So, Jisung has noticed that Chan has pulled back from Felix. This means everyone else has too.

It means Felix has noticed and not said anything.

“Good and fine?”

“Yup. Ah,” Chan scratches behind his ear, looking everywhere but at Jisung. “Why? Has he, uh, said something to you?”

“Just wondering. You guys had been spending a lot of time together and then just- you weren’t.

“I’ve just been busy, Sung. We’re fine, we’re still friends.”

“Obviously.”

“Okay, well-”

“You know what the nicest thing about being with Minho is?” Jisung says suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Having someone I can rely on. Who can take care of me. Who lets me take care of him. It’s nice, isn’t it? To feel like that about someone? And he doesn’t think I’m weird or a freak or wrong for how I feel. Even when I thought I was weird for how I felt. About him or anything else. I guess it’s surprising to everyone else that it took so long but it’s not surprising for me. I really thought for so long that it was bad to feel like that about him, y’know? But he helped me realize that it isn’t bad. It’s not wrong, even if he’s my member or- or a boy. It’s not bad to love him, not ever.”

Tears, hot and pressing against Chan’s eyes. There’s pressure behind his temples.

“Oh, Jisungie,” His voice wavers, watery and thick in his throat.

“Ah, don’t cry, hyung!” Jisung sits up, “It’s okay! I just thought you should know, you know?”

Chan nods, nose stinging as he holds back tears.

“Don’t cry,” Jisung says again, moving forward and wrapping his arms around Chan’s shoulders. It’s an awkward hug with awkward angles, but Chan holds Jisung tight and loves him to his core.

“Not crying,” Chan sniffles, “Sorry, Hannie. Sorry, I’m just happy for you, that’s all. That’s all.”

Jisung makes a small noise when he pulls back, watery eyes. “You should talk to Lix, hyung.”

Words catch in Chan’s throat. All he can do is nod.

___

It’s not wrong, even if he’s my member or- or a boy.

It sticks.

It’s not wrong even if he’s my member.

But Felix isn’t just his member. Chan is his leader, his protector.

Or a boy.

Chan’s not sure how to even begin to approach that one.

Felix has high cheekbones and full lips and doe eyes and small hands he looks so much like a girl these days that anyone could mistake him for one if the light hits him right.

But he also has a deep voice and strong arms and a flat chest and an Adam's apple that Chan wants to fit his teeth around.

It’s like he was created specifically to fuck with Chan’s head, this dichotomy of everything he should want and everything he shouldn’t.

At the end of the day, he thinks maybe he just wants Felix, in any form, in every way. It’s a terrifying realization, one that looms over him like a dark cloud. Memories of so long ago, of feeling he’d shoved so far down he’d forgotten they were there start to well up.

He feels like a wreck, so out of control of himself.

He accidentally snaps at Jeongin at dance rehearsal and is transported back to their trainee days when leading meant anger, meant unwilling determination and pressure and bottled-up emotion. He apologizes immediately after, but Minho calls for everyone to go home for the rest of the day.

He pushes Felix further, answers his texts in one word messages and avoids being alone with him.

It crashes when he locks himself in the studio for three days, isolating himself until he can just get himself back together. Just a few days, working and avoiding creating a bigger mess, making himself into a bigger asshole.

Changbin and Jisung come by a few times, try to drag him out but can only get him as far as the company cafeteria.

He sleeps in 20-minute intervals, mostly with his head on his desk so when he startles back awake he can keep working.

It’s creeping into a fourth day when someone knocks on the door and for the first time it isn’t Changbin.

Felix, soft and warm. In his hands, a big bag.

“Hey,” Chan’s heart goes soft. A flood of apologies sit on the tip of his tongue.

“Dinner,” Felix grins, holding up the bag.

“Ah, shit, you really didn’t have to,” Chan feels bashful, but he steps aside to let Felix into the small room.

“Jeonginne says you haven’t been home in a while,” Felix starts to unpack, pulling out tub after tub of food.

Fried rice, pork, stir-fried beef and noodles. Banchan in little containers that he sorts out.

“Yeah, been in a groove I guess. Didn’t want to interrupt it, you know how it is.”

Felix pulls out a paper plate and starts scooping spoonfuls of food onto it.

“Sure,” He hands the plate to Chan, gives him chopsticks and a spoon, “I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, yeah? Have you been eating well?”

“The cafeteria isn’t too bad,” Chan shrugs. His stomach pangs in hunger, suddenly aware of how little he’s actually been eating the last few days.

“And sleep?”

“Sleep is sleep,” He mumbles. He picks up a piece of pork and tries not to moan as he chews it. “Did you make this?”

“God, no,” Felix laughs, “Minho-hyung did.”

“It’s so good. You want some? Have you eaten?” He holds up a piece of pork for Felix to take.

“It’s for you,” Felix waves him away.

“This is really nice, Lix, I appreciate it.”

“Can I convince you to go home, too?”

“Hah, don’t push it,” He pats Felix’s thigh. He doesn’t let the touch linger.

“C’mon, come home. You can come back to mine, if you want. Or I can go with you to yours.”

Chan’s ears feel warm. He hasn’t been avoiding Felix specifically, but being around him makes his head spin. It makes his thoughts rear up, makes them swirl and spiral and crash against his skull like breaking waves.

He’s just so weak to him. For him.

“I really should wrap this up,” He tries, but Felix softens his eyes, puts a soft hand against the side of Chan’s neck.

“You’ve been here for days. There’s nothing you need to do that you can’t do tomorrow. Come home with me.”

He studies his face, the quiet emotion written across it. He’s been pushing for so long, he can’t let it break. He agrees with hesitance. Felix breaks out into a sunny smile.

He sits on the couch as Chan finishes eating, packing everything back up when he’s done and leading Chan downstairs to start the walk home.

It’s a quiet walk, the two of them side by side and Chan helps carry the food as they navigate back to the dorm.

For a moment, he can pretend they’re normal. Normal people living normal lives, walking home after a long night. He wonders what the people they pass think of them, wonders if they think they’re friends or something else. If they think they’re going home together, if they can tell Chan is-

The word love feels sharp and metallic in his mouth.

He keeps walking.

Felix leads him right to the bedroom when they get home, fo abandoned in the kitchen.

“Can I borrow sweatpants, or-”

Felix shakes his head.

“I don’t really-”

“Is this okay?” Felix hesitates, fingers pinching the hem of Chan’s shirt.

He thinks Felix could press a knife to his throat and it would be okay.

“Yeah,” He breathes, “Yeah, Lix. Anything. Whatever you want.”

He lets himself be undressed down to his boxers and then guided to lay down on the bed. He watches in awe as Felix undresses next, naked as the day he was born and more beautiful than anything Chan has ever seen.

He won’t cry. He tries really hard to swallow the urge to sob.

“Chris,” Felix looks at him the same way he had looked at him in a dream once. He exists and he doesn’t, all at once.

All of these different versions of Felix that he’s known, past and present converge, and then Felix pulls down the boxers around Chan’s waist leaving him bare. They’re equal in their nakedness now, one in the same.

He keeps himself so still, holds his breath to try and stop the trembling of his body.

“So beautiful,” Felix whispers, light touches all over Chan’s stomach. He runs his fingers along the lines of Chan’s abs, tracing the bumps and circling the dip of his belly button. 

Chan shakes his head. “You- Lix, come on. Look at you.”

“Me?” Felix grins.

“You,” His hands go to Felix’s thighs, squeezing honey skin gently, “It’s like- it’s like you’re not even real, Lix, like a dream or something.”

“Yeah?” Gentle fingers creeping down to rest high on Chan’s thighs, thumbs digging into the skin where his thigh meets his pelvis.

His cock, traitorous, twitches at the touch. Felix grins with sharp teeth but doesn’t move to touch him.

“You know how beautiful you are,” Chan flushes, “You’re just fishing for compliments.”

“Maybe I just like it when you tell me,” Felix shrugs.

“Me?”

“Chris,” Felix’s browns knit together, something almost sorrowful on his face, “I don’t know how you still don’t get it.”

“Get-”

Felix bends down to kiss him before he can get the words out of his mouth.

Its warm light flooding his chest, the first gasp of relief after holding his breath for years.

Hands all over bodies, lips against lips. It’s frantic suddenly, like he’ll will die if Felix isn’t this close forever.

“Lix,” He gasps, Felix’s tongue on his lips and in his mouth. He opens up for him like a flower, waiting and wanting.

“Fuck me,” Felix pushes their hips together, his hard cock against Chan’s, “Chris, please, I need it.”

“This is- is this real? It’s not- it’s not a dream, right?”

Felix pulls back to look at him, smiling. His hair is messy from Chan’s hands mindlessly combing through it, still damp from the shower.

“It’s not a dream,” Felix rolls his hips, grinding them together.

“Fuck,” Chan closes his eyes, “Yeah, God, yeah.”

Felix kisses him again, dirty, and it’s surreal to feel the slick glide of his cock against his hip.

There’s a fumble for lube in the side drawer, and Felix splays out on his back, legs spread for Chan to settle between.

He kisses the dip of Felix’s waist, kisses his narrow hip bones, and the stubble of his happy trail.

He’s not entirely convinced it isn’t a dream when he works a finger into Felix, feels the hot pulse of his body around him.

Felix lets out the sweetest noises, squirming and greedy for more.

“I can take it,” Felix pants, chest heaving and eyes heavy when he looks at Chan, “Been waiting for this for so long, wanted it for so long.”

“I’m sorry,” Chan kisses the base of his cock like an apology could ever be enough, “I’m sorry, Lix, baby.”

“More, please, come on, Chris, daddy.”

Chan hisses, driving his fingers in harder, “Fuck, Felix, you can’t- you can’t say that.”

“Why?” Felix grins, sharp teeth like pearls in his wanting mouth.

“It’s- it’s fucking-” He fumbles, blushing. He pushes in a third finger, feels his cock twitch where he presses his hips into the mattress.

“Daddy,” Felix moans, exaggerated and pornographic. He lolls his tongue out, stretches his arms above his head, “Fuck me, don’t be a cunt.”

“What the fuck,” Chan whispers to himself. It’s like he moves on auto-pilot, pulling his fingers out and sitting up on his knees between Felix’s. “Condom- do you have-”

Felix shakes his head and pulls Chan down to lick at his mouth, “Want to feel it. Give it to me now, yeah? Channie-hyung.”

Chan shivers. “Okay,” He chokes out, pressing in, “Pretty girl,” He breathes, and it’s an accident, it really really is, but Felix moans and grabs his shoulders.

“Am I your pretty girl?” He pulls Chan close, wraps his legs around his hips when he pushes in all the way, “Am I?”

“Yeah,” Chan pants into the sweaty curve of his neck, “So pretty Lix. My pretty girl, I’m so sorry for everything, for back then, okay?”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Felix digs a heel into his ass to get him to move, slow thrusts at first, “I never held any of it against you, Chris, ever.”

“Forgive me anyway, fuck, I’m sorry,” Tears are hot when they fill his eyes.

“Harder,” Felix demands instead, “Fuck me harder and I will.”

And that, he can do. He sets a bruising pace, leans back to drag Felix’s hips to meet his at every thrust. He pushes his fingers into Felix’s open mouth and stretches his lips pink and red spit bubbling in the corners. He watches his cock bounce untouched, pearly pre-cum dripping on his belly.

“Daddy,” Felix garbles, slurring his words with glassy eyes, “Let me cum, make me cum.”

“Such a greedy girl, Lix,” He digs his fingers into his thighs but he knows it’ll be over for them both soon. His own orgasm is like a fire iron in his belly, burning.

“I am,” Felix nods, “Give it to me, Chris, daddy, hyung, come on, come on,” He begs.

Chan curses, wrapping a hand around him.

It takes three strokes until he cries out and cums across his belly, dripping over Chan’s hand. Another few seconds until Chan comes right behind him, pushing in deep and filling him.

On the comedown, it all rushes back in an embarrassing flush.

It’s only the sound of their panting filling the room, their sweaty chests flushed.

“Lix-” He tries, throat raw.

“Let’s shower first.”

Again, he lets Felix lead.

The shower starts, a pittering of water against tile.

He doesn’t really know what’s happening and he’s a little afraid to ask.

It’s even more exposing like this, under the white light of the bathroom. He resists the urge to curl in on himself and hide from view.

He watches Felix instead, unashamed and uncaring in his bare body.And why should he be, when he’s so beautiful?

Chan is struck witht eh urge to cry again. It wells in his eyes, in his throat. And when Felix takes his hand and leads him under the water, he wants to sob.

“Let me,” Felix whispers, tucking his hands into Chan’s curls.

Chan closes his eyes. He gives a small nod.

He’d let Felix do just about anything, he thinks. Get down on his knees and let Felix kick his ribs in, split him in half and tear out his bloody insides.

It’s a simple mercy when he starts to shampoo his hair, delicate fingers scratching behind his ears. He is gentler than Chan deserves. He touches him like he’s worthy of his kindness.

“Felix,” His voice breaks on the sound, splitting and watery.

“Shh,” Felix runs his fingers through the strands. He tips his head back to rinse out the suds and combs through the conditioner.

A sob gets choked up in his throat. He’s trembling, his body shaking under the water and the feeling of Felix so close.

“Bodywash now, okay?” Felix’s voice rumbles, thunder against the rain of the shower.

He doesn’t trust himself to speak without crying so he nods.

He braces himself for the touch and still breaks when Felix’s hands come to his shoulders, soapy and light. He has to lean back against the tile so he doesn’t collapse.

Felix rubs down his arms, back up and to his chest, down to his stomach.

“Always so tense,” Felix whispers, “I’m going lower, can I?”

Again, he nods.

Felix washes his hips, and Chan has to close his eyes when he drops to his knees to rub soap over his legs.

He opens them when he stands back up.

Blonde hair and a white tile halo, an angel in every sense.

He rinses the soap from his body and tries to pretend he isn’t half-hard again.

“Feel better?” Felix asks, plastering his wet body to Chan’s.

“I don’t really know,” He answers honestly, “I don’t know what’s going on, Lix.”

Felix kisses the corner of his eye, “Just taking care of you, Chris.”

“I’m sorry,” He breathes in the smell of Felix’s wet skin, his damp hair.

“I told you I’d forgive you if you fucked me well enough, right? I forgive you. Stop apologizing. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“There is,” His voice breaks, “There’s so much, Lix. For when we were trainees and all the times I drove you away and for feeling so fucking much all the time and acting like a cunt because I didn’t know what to do with it. I’m just so sorry, I’ll try to make it up to you forever.”

“Drove me away?” Felix laughs, “Do I look driven away? Or mad? All of that stuff- it doesn’t matter anymore. Look where we are, how far we’ve come. I don’t hold any of that against you, no one does.”

“I told you we couldn’t talk about it. Do you remember? After you were eliminated?”

Felix’s face goes soft, mournful. “Sure.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

He shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t matter,” And he kisses Chan’s cheeks, his brows, the corners of his eyes.

It feels good when he finally starts to cry, giving in to the feeling and letting Felix hold him thought it. He laughs when Felix starts to cry too, his emotional boy. His boy, he thinks to himself, his sweet, kind boy.

“I don’t think you’re a girl, by the way,” Chan tells him with a watery voice, “I don’t want you to think I just want you because you’re like, feminine, or because I have some weird hang-up about you being a guy. Or well, maybe it scares me a little bit just because I’ve been pushing it down for a long time but I’m-”

“Chris,” Felix cuts off his rambling, “It’s okay,” He squeezes his hips, “We’ll figure it out, right?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, finding relief, “together.”

Under the water, Chan kisses him again and again.