Work Text:
Chris tries not to be weird about it.
He tries to be casual about it.
He'll sit next to Felix, place an arm next to his, almost touching, and notice the differences. Felix's warm, golden skin, his skinny wrists, small hands, the straight dark hair going from wrist to shoulder. Next to Chris's pale, hairless arms he can't help but want to touch and feel the differences.
He does, eventually. Looking can only get you so far.
It's not too weird when he lets the loose hold on Felix's wrist turn into his fingers rubbing at the skin where his wrist bone sticks out, the hair there so light that Chris needs to press in with his thumb at Felix's pulse point so that his other fingers can keep grip.
He's always holding on to one of the kids, reaching for a hand to make sure they're there, close enough to stay in his orbit. If he reaches for Felix more, it's not too noticeable. A quick moment to fix his ponytail when he's danced it out of place. An arm around his sweat-sticky shoulder after practice. It's perfectly normal for him to reach out for Felix's elbow, palm cupping it, fingers splayed out on his skin to steer him somewhere. His fingers don't stay still, brushing against Felix's skin, the hair there.
They haven't lived together for a while so it's harder to see him in shorts, but sometimes the kids will host in pairs, cosplaying homemakers with ordered food and disposable utensils, warm enough to fill Chris's heart and warm enough for Felix to lounge in shorts.
Now that Chris is actively trying not to be weird about it all, it's like he can't look away. He means to look at Felix's face to listen to what he's saying but his eyes stray, going from the hair on Felix's calves to the hair on the underside of his thighs, his loose shorts riding up enough so that Chris can almost see where it ends. It's thick, and dark, and now that it's winter Felix won't touch it for a while, rarely bothered to do more than wax his armpits regularly.
Chris laughs, and listens to the kids, and eats his food like he's supposed to. He goes to the bathroom and when he comes back he doesn't sit where he was before. He sits on the floor with his back to the couch, right next to where Felix is. Felix has his legs up, chin resting on his knees. When he sees Chris sit down he knocks a socked foot against Chris's shoulder, smiling at him from above. Like Chris planned, he keeps one leg up to keep leaning on but drops one leg down to press against Chris, the need to have some sort of physical touch innate.
It's normal for Chris to tilt and lean his head on Felix's knee - silent acknowledgment. It's normal, as well, for Chris to wrap a hand around Felix's ankle. He's wearing fuzzy socks that are bunched down, keeping him warm where he has no body hair to do so. Chris stays normal and still like that for a long time, head on knee and hand on ankle, seconds bleeding into minutes as he tunes back in to whatever scenario the kids are arguing about, Changbin standing up with a hand in the air to make his point.
Chris is reminded that it can be normal—to touch and want to touch—when Felix reaches a hand down to pet at the back of Chris's head where his hair is curliest. He can feel Felix's fingers get caught in the parts where Chris can never seem to comb out and his eyes flutter. Felix is gentle, like a bird landing on a branch, idly playing with Chris's hair as he involves himself in the group discussion.
Everyone seems like they're touching, when Chris looks around. Changbin playfully letting Seungmin out of a headlock with a yell, Jisung and Minho sat firmly next to each other like the pillars of a house, Hyunjin on the other side of Felix so close that their hair mixes into a blondeblack tether between them. Jeongin isn't touching anyone but he's in the middle of the room, limbs splayed out in reaching distance of everyone.
It's this closeness that makes Chris slide a hand up from Felix's socked ankle to the back of his calf. It would be too much, maybe, to bring Felix's leg up over his shoulder, hitched there for Chris to nuzzle his face into, to be closer than he is now. He would, but it's probably not as casual even if it would help him feel the difference between his smooth skin and how fuzzy Felix is. He doesn't do it, of course, but he does rub his hand up and down the skin of Felix's leg. The hair there is soft under his fingers, grown out.
It's trance-like, Felix playing with his hair, and Chris playing with the hair on Felix's leg. He catalogues the differences down his leg, where it's smoother at his shin and under the sheath of his sock. It's the mindless rubbing that brings him to behind Felix's knee, where there's no hair. He lingers there, tucking his fingers in the bend of Felix's knee, keeping his own fingers warm.
"Tickles," Felix says, startling Chris.
"Oh," Chris is ready to apologize, ready to bring his hand back to the outside of Felix's sock. "Sorry, I didn't even realize."
"I don't mind." Felix's smile is smushed where he has his face pressed into the knee keeping his head up, but it's as bright as it always is. Chris is ready to apologize again, if it'll keep Felix smiling. "Just tickles."
"Sorry," Chris says again, reflex. He winces when it makes Felix's smile flicker.
Chris knows that Felix just said he doesn't mind, but he tucks both hands under his thighs, caught out. Nothing he did was weird but it was enough to make Felix say something. Sometimes people say I don't mind when they really do mind. As much as Felix loves physical touch, he didn't ask for Chris to grope his leg during a group hangout. Felix isn't one to not say what he means but - it's probably best if Chris keeps his hands to himself. He keeps his head on Felix's leg, no direct skin-to-skin contact. It's okay if Felix keeps touching his hair. Chris doesn't mind.
Chris makes it a point to be more normal about it all after that.
He goes to his laser appointments, grins and bears the routine rubberband sting of it to get dolphin-smooth, and doesn't think about how Felix would never bother with it.
He wouldn't want Felix to, anyway. Why should Felix go through pain to get rid of what he's comfortable with? Why should Felix spend a second changing a thing about his perfect skin? It’s none of Chris’s business what he chooses to do but - the opinions haunt him in flashes.
Chris focuses. He goes to the company, works out, tries to empty his brain of the lyrics and beats that occupy his waking hours and dreams. He treats the kids equally always.
He goes to practice and doesn't think about Felix in a shirt that is somehow big enough to reveal the hollow of his collarbones but small enough to ride right on the waistband of his shorts. He doesn't think about Felix's long hair wild and curling at the bottom, dark at the roots with sweat, stuck to the back of his neck after hours of movement. He doesn't look at Felix so he doesn't think about it.
He tries but he can't help it. He looks.
Felix stretches, his shirt riding up to reveal the hair below his bellybutton, the skin there damp with sweat, and Chris wants.
The want is so strong and wrong that Chris wants to end practice immediately to get some distance between him and Felix. It's not anything new - he knows Felix doesn't shave, especially in the winter. It just hits him suddenly, the waistband of Felix's underwear stretched across the soft part of his lower belly where the hair from his happy trail gets coarser, thicker, and cuts off Chris’s view from anything more.
Not that Chris would need to see anything else, but the knowledge that there is more hair makes Chris sick with—something. Not naming it makes it ambiguous, unnamed and normal still.
Chris has seen Felix in every state of undress, known him for so many years that it shouldn't affect him, but it's impossible to stop thinking about his body. The way hair is just everywhere. The way Felix is unbothered by it all, so pretty and delicate even with the layer of hair most idols never let free.
It's enough to make Chris miss steps when they run the track one more time.
"Let's stop." Minho was waiting for an excuse to end practice and - fair. "Tomorrow is another day."
Chris hears the other kids making fun of him distantly, something about old man stamina, and usually the guilt would eat at him but he's still stuck on Felix. This is why he hasn't been thinking about it.
He stops Felix from leaving with Jeongin, hand landing safely on the fabric of the hoodie Felix slipped on. "Do you wanna come over?"
Felix smiles, sweet as ever. "Yes!" He frowns. "But I'm all sweaty."
Chan doesn't lean closer. He doesn't think that he does. "You can use my shower, duh." He doesn't even lift a finger to swipe the wet strand of hair hanging over Felix's eyebrow. "I'll even let you go first."
"I'm stealing your clothes," is Felix's cheery reply. Chris has made a mistake, maybe. "Let me just tell Innie to go without me."
In the closer quarters of Chris's room it's clear that he's made a mistake. Felix is sprawled on the bed like it's his. It's taking control of every neuron in Chris's brain to stop him from looking at how Felix is in one of his giant black shirts, the length of it reaching mid-thigh. It's long, but short enough for Chris to see that Felix is only wearing stolen Calvin Klein boxer briefs. It might be more than one mistake. Fresh from his own shower and without an escape in his own room, he sits on the bed, space between him and Felix.
It's not like he can help it with Felix right in front of him. Felix is on his belly, nose deep in his phone as he scrolls, so Chris looks. Just a little.
His bare face, freckles free from concealer, his hair still wild after a few minutes of haphazard blowdrying, the backs of his thighs where the hair is darkest, his feet crossed at the ankle in the air moving from side to side as he reads on his phone. He's beautiful and Chris still wants.
"Do you just want to watch something?" Felix looks up from his phone so fast it makes Chris reel back. "I might fall asleep, though."
"Yeah, you can pick." Chris trusts Felix to make good choices.
So when Felix starts rearranging them so that Chris is propped up on his pillows and Felix is in front of him, leaning against his chest with Chris's dear laptop in hand, he trusts that Felix is okay with it.
It's normal, for a while. They've sat like this hundreds of times, starting back from bunk bed times. It's still normal when Felix starts to doze a little, head nodding and grip on the laptop loosening. Chris has to bring an arm over Felix's to make sure his laptop doesn't fall. Resting his arm on top of Felix's makes him start to notice the differences again. Both of them shower-fresh, Felix's skin soft from exfoliation but with hair brushing against Chris's skin. It's hard not to feel the size difference between them, Felix's smaller, lean body against Chris's muscles. It's harder for Chris not to lean into Felix, even harder to resist nosing at Felix's hair, smelling the shampoo he makes Chris keep in his shower to keep his blonde intact.
It's too hard, maybe, which is why Chris does it anyway. Rests his nose at the very top of Felix's head, takes a deep breath in, smells home. He couldn't care less what they have playing on the laptop. What matters most is being here in his bed with Felix, as close as they'll ever be, Felix trusting him to keep his sleeping form safe. It's too much and somehow not enough.
It turns into another deep breath, another one at a different point of Felix's head, another one, a little lower, closer to his ear. Another deep breath, Chris's nose close to his skin - not touching. Just close. He doesn't know anything he likes more than being close to Felix. It's why he moves just a little bit closer, nose to skin. Deep breath.
"Tickles," Felix mumbles, reminiscent of the other day. It startles Chris just like it did before but he's not moved to apologize.
"Didn't mean to wake you," Chris says. He rubs his nose on Felix's skin, something like an apology.
Felix hums, unbothered. "M'sleepy. You can hold the laptop." He drops his hands from it fully, tucking his hands under his arms and leaning his head back further onto Chris. Chris has to bring both arms around Felix to keep the laptop straight.
Like this, Chris is leaning over Felix, slotted together somehow closer. Felix's neck is there, one of the smoothest parts of his body. It's not that it doesn't interest Chris, but his eyes wander to their lower halves covered by the blanket to keep their legs from getting burnt by the laptop. It's tempting to try and move his legs in closer, cage Felix in and feel their legs brush, the hair of Felix's legs on Chris's hairless ones. But Felix is comfortable, sleeping.
It would probably be more comfortable to move the laptop out of the way entirely. Felix worked so hard earlier, he deserves uninterrupted sleep. Chris closes the laptop and gently deposits it on the floor. He slides himself a little lower so that Felix can be more comfortable.
It was probably Felix's plan all along, "watching" something turning into a cozy nap for him. He's always slept best next to someone, needing that grounding touch and body heat to lull him into slumber. Chris has always felt privileged when it's him, always felt like it should be him always - greedy for it.
It's greed, maybe, or a mistake, probably that makes his hands wander.
He starts at Felix's shoulders, holding him for a moment, then rubbing up and down his arms, bringing him warmth from friction. It shouldn't be enough to wake Felix up, which is why it's easy to continue, to grasp at Felix's forearms that he has tucked against his body, Chris's fingers moving back and forth against the hair there. Felix doesn't stir.
Chris does move his legs then, stretching his body and moving as carefully as he can to bring every part of his body closer to Felix. It's hard to stop. Felix melts into it, subconsciously moving with Chris.
Chris brings his hands down to Felix's waist. Here - he pauses. It's probably too much to go under the shirt. He doesn't want to wake Felix up. But Felix has always liked core contact, careful hands on the warmest part of his body welcome. Chris is careful, of course, when he slides his hands under Felix's shirt. He splays his fingers across his belly, soft with sleep, waist small between Chris's hands. It's magnetic, almost, the way his fingers find their way to Felix's happy trail, the hair there soft under Chris's fingers. He should move away but he doesn't want to, really. His fingers dip into Felix's bellybutton, back down to the hair on his belly. He'll never be normal about this.
If he could—just once, even—rub his face there, feel it against his skin, breathe in the smell of Felix, maybe just get his mouth there, just for a second, just to know. Just to get it out of his system.
It makes him press his fingers there harder than he means to. It makes his cock twitch when he doesn't mean to. Felix is sleeping.
"Chris," Felix says, awake.
Chris freezes. He's made so many mistakes tonight. He should've let Felix make all the choices tonight.
"Chris," Felix says again. He untucks his arms from his chest and places them on top of Chris's, above the fabric of the shirt. "Why'd you stop?"
"You were sleeping, baby." This is something Chris would say. This is okay for them.
Felix turns his head to look at Chris better. "It helps, though. When you touch me." Felix brings his hands under the shirt to join Chris's hands, fingers slotting together. "Feels good."
"You like it?" Chris's hands are nearly trembling with the way he's trying to hold still. He's held back a lot longer than just tonight. He's nothing but desire, still wrong but stronger than ever, so strong it feels like there's no other way for him to be. He would do anything to make Felix feel good, and he will - it's his duty, after all.
Felix nods and his hair tickles under Chris's chin.
Chris knew. He knows Felix. Knew it was what he liked, what he needed. Touch to ground him, keep him comfortable, safe. Chris the right person to give it to him.
Reluctantly, Chris untangles his hands from Felix's, and keeps moving his hands on the journey across Felix's body. He brings his hands down to Felix's hips, there for a moment before bringing them to his thighs, feeling the hair there for the first time in what feels like forever. He drags his hands around for a while, reveling in how solid Felix is here, quads strong from daily use, skin so warm from Chris's body heat. It's too tempting not to dip his fingers under the fabric of the boxer briefs, too good when he feels the softer give of Felix's butt.
"Chris, hyung, you can—"
Felix widens his legs, tugs the blanket down, swings a leg over Chris's to make more space.
He's hard. Felix is squirming against Chris, body firm against his own hard cock.
There's probably no coming back from this, touching and grinding on each other like they can't do anything else. Chris's fingernails scratch down Felix's thighs and he keens, tries to spread his legs even wider, tries to get Chris where he wants him.
"Chris, Chr—" Felix is muttering, body moving against Chris, eyes squeezed tight, trying to move closer into Chris and closer to his hands.
Chris wants to hold him here forever, wants to keep him in pleasure limbo, see how high it can go before he bursts.
It feels silly, suddenly, to not be kissing Felix. His beautiful Felix is in front of him, desperate for touch, and Chris would give him the world.
He changes their position, depositing Felix on the bed. Leaning over him feels like they're too far apart.
Felix's parted mouth looks like he's asking for something, and Chris never wants him to have to ask.
When they surge together, the kiss is everything. Felix's plush lips soft against Chris's, mouth warm under Chris's. Chris doesn't wait to slip tongue into his mouth, coaxing Felix's mouth wider, swallowing the sounds he's making and getting impossibly closer. Felix wraps his arms around Chris's neck and his legs slide against Chris's. They move instinctively, breaking apart only to breathe.
Chris has him and he wants him, wants more, wants it all. He can't stop from frotting against Felix, cocks bumping together, feeling feral with the way he can't stop.
Chris feels Felix unwrap his arms from around him to tug at his boxer briefs, trying to shimmy out of them without disconnecting from Chris's mouth. Chris leans up only long enough to strip himself of his shirt, help Felix out of his underwear and shirt, and then lean back in, capturing Felix's bottom lip with his teeth. He can't get enough of the sweet curl of Felix's tongue, the way he moves his small palms across Chris's body.
He breaks off to kiss down his neck, down his chest, sucking on his nipples to hear him keen. He presses kisses on every inch of his belly, loving the way every touch makes him react with a new, sweet sound. He holds Felix's hips down, makes him wait just for a moment. Just long enough for Chris to press his face into his crotch, face deep in his pubes. It feels like the most natural thing, Felix as is, perfect in every way, so human Chris hates anyone who has ever seen this. This is for him.
Felix's cock bumps his chin and it would be cruel to make him wait any longer.
Chris loves the way Felix fits in his mouth, just the right size, hot and hard on his tongue. He feels greedier than he's ever been, spit pooling from the sides of his mouth as his throat works, getting Felix as deep as he can, lips stretching around Felix's shaft. It's depraved, maybe, how he can't stop taking deep breaths, nose flaring when he's buried his face in Felix's pubes, throat tight where Felix's cock is buried deep. He's still fresh from the shower but the baser smell of him is intoxicating. The hair is thick, and coarse, and Chris might live here, now.
Chris's hands are everywhere he can reach, grabbing at Felix's thighs, pressing in to his soft skin, bringing Felix's body to his. He's wild with it, humping the bed, sloppy on Felix's cock, head spinning with the sound of Felix's whines in his ears.
"Fuck," Felix pants. "I'm not gonna last."
Chris brings his mouth off of Felix only long enough to rest his head in the crook of Felix's thigh, breathing him in, rubbing his face there to give Felix a moment to catch himself. "I don't want you to."
Felix's cock kicks and Chris just—he wants. So he swallows Felix back down, mouth even tighter, tongue wicked around the head of Felix's cock. His wandering hands find Felix's hole - hair there too, and he presses his thumb in, almost as close to Felix as he wants to be.
Without warning, Felix comes down his throat. His body curls in, and Chris holds on tight, makes sure he gets every drop down until Felix is twitching from overstimulation.
Chris is so hard he's dizzy. He detaches himself from Felix, knee-walks up the bed, hovers over his beautiful body for a second, admiring it. His lashes are a little wet from when he was deepthroating Felix and he has to blink a little, clear his eyes and save the view to his memory. He tugs his shorts under his balls and keeps a hand on the base of his cock. He wants, and wants, and wants.
Felix's eyes are closed and his chest is still heaving, body melted into the mattress. "Go ahead, Channie hyung. Come on me."
He doesn't need to be told twice. He works his cock, harder than it's ever been, and aims for Felix's happy trail. He can't last longer than a few strokes, and doesn't try to. Just gets a good seal with his hand, hips jerking, cock leaking, and blows his load on Felix's beautiful, waiting belly. He still feels dizzy when he leans down to lick a stripe up Felix's skin, tongue dragging through his own come and over the rough patch of hair on Felix's body.
There's no coming back from this. He wouldn't want to. He wants, and he has.
"Don't wax," Chris blurts. "Or shave. Don't ever get laser."
"Freak." Felix laughs, his whole body shaking with it. He tugs Chris down by the neck, letting Chris flatten him with his body, humming happily once they're touching from head to toe.
"I just- I like everything about you," Chris says. He leans up enough so that he can look directly into Felix's eyes. "I love your body." The unspoken I love you hangs silent, but they both hear it.
Felix's answering smile makes Chris's heart feel like it's going to beat right out of his chest. He would do anything for him - for any reason.