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“It’s almost bizarre.”
Felix’s voice drags along the bobble in his throat, his lips ghosting near the microphone as he considers each word cautiously. “I try my best to trust him, but it’s difficult when he seemingly turned up out of nowhere.”
His tongue dances over his bottom lip, gliding over the smooth pink skin with a furrow of his brow. “A cast of eight, set to go on this show in a month, JYP strictly saying only people of Chris’ choosing get into the show. And then out of nowhere, two weeks before the show begins, Chris gets approached by JYP-nim and some weird man he’s never met, and told he has one last contestant to take under his wing.”
Felix glances towards his own bedroom door, curiosity burning in his blood as he sighs. “The circumstances are strange, JYP wouldn’t take questions, wouldn’t even tell Chris, and no one else in the building had ever fucking seen him before. And who was the man?”
He taps the butt of a pen on his lower lip, staring at the computer glow as he hums in consideration. “Chan hyung said he didn’t look like Minho and was… ‘weirdly formal,’ are the words he used. He said he acted strangely towards Minho.”
He leans forward on his forearms. “There wasn’t that sort of familial comfort you see from a parent, and Minho didn’t seem to really know much about him either.”
Felix scribbles some notes on the book between him and the computer. “Minho leaves for the holidays after everyone else. No one sees him leave, and he comes back to the dorm before everyone else. No one’s met his parents or family, he doesn’t talk in depth about them either. I assumed that was just because he didn’t know me very well back then, but even Jisung has no clue.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “And that’s… saying something.”
Felix watches the recording timer. His audio diary entries had proved helpful in the past, leading to it becoming a habit as he navigated being an idol, and his strenuous schedule.
Felix taps the paper with his pen, dragging it back to his lip and biting on the plastic with a frown. “He disappears for three months every year: disappears late February, early March ish, and he’s back to normal by the end of May, early June.” He draws a rushed circle around a word on his page: Spring.
“Springtime.” He notes tentatively. “Took me a while to notice because, of course, my springs aren’t exactly easy, and neither are Chan’s.”
He taps his pen on the paper thoughtfully, humming. “I know he’s not like Chan and I, at least not exactly, because I would have smelt him out by now, for lack of a better word.”
A sigh rattles through his ribcage. “Alteans can sense each other. We can smell each other — again, lack of a better word — and I would have known if that was what was happening. On top of that, what are the chances? Three different members of the same extinct species of extraterrestrial end up in the same boyband in South Korea. It’d be delusional to believe that could happen.”
Felix finds his entries always end up more eloquent than any thought he has on a daily basis. Maybe he feels like there’s someone he’s trying to impress with his elegant oratory.
He scribbles aimlessly, watching as he defiles the once clean sheet of paper with dark scars of ink. “Jisung mentioned the Spring thing the other week and I thought about it. It’s not just the time, it’s his behaviour. He becomes either really clingy or really fucking distant, to the point where Jisung thought he upset him. And I observed last year myself, and I did notice that. He was acting differently, pretty significantly so.”
“Spring is coming up in a few days, and I’m not gonna go back to mum for this spring.” He takes a short, exasperated breath. “I know it’s risky, but I know he won’t talk to me. If I figure out what’s happening, maybe he can finally have someone to talk to. To lean on.”
Felix pauses for a beat, humming with a nod. “A confidant, if you will.”
He sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair and wincing at the metallic creak. “If he is going through something similar to me, he needs meds to help. And I’m probably the only one who can access meds easily, and I’m incredibly thankful for that. But Altean and similar species need heat meds, and I’m probably one of the very few people who knows how to get them..”
“There is one thing I’m worried about.” Felix notes, dragging his pen blindly across the paper. “Perversion. I’m not the strongest in denying myself things I desire. It’s a weakness, I know. But if I’m right about Minho, and what’s happening is just what I think, I don’t think I’ll ever be strong enough to deny him. I hope God can forgive me.”
He pauses again, tapping his pen on his lip. “I hope he can trust me enough. I just want to help.”
Felix sits within the silence, a long drawl of consideration leaving him a silent creature in the depth of the room. He stares at the glaring light of his screen like an enemy, eyes shifting down to the mic.
“I’ve always just wanted to help.”
“Felix?”
Felix jumps at the sound of Seungmin’s voice over his shoulder, glancing back at where he stands in the doorway. “Seungmin, hey.”
“Hey.” He steps slightly further into the room. “Have you, uh, have you seen Minho?”
He closes the entry, pushing his mic to the side — turns his chair as he saves the recording and turns off his computer. “Uh, no. Why? Is something up?”
“No, no.” Seungmin waves off Felix’s concerns with a furrowed brow. “He just said he’d drive Innie and I down to the store later. I mean, I can drive us, but he wanted to go, so he offered.”
“Oh.” Felix says with a slow nod, running his tongue between his lips with a thought. Felix leans back in his seat. “You should probably just take Innie out yourself. I overheard him on the phone to Jisung earlier saying he was gonna sleep off a headache.”
“Oh, for real?” Seungmin raises his eyebrows. There’s a sliver of doubt in the dark of Seungmin’s eyes but Felix watches him banish it as his figure relaxes into Felix’s answer.
”Yeah, said he’s been a bit under the weather.” Felix piled onto his previous answer, leaning further into the back of his chair as he spins to face his computer once more.
“Well, it is that time of year again.” Seungmin says with a grunt. “He always gets sick in spring, hey? Did you notice that?”
Felix tries to hide the jump of his breath in his lungs, shrugging slightly. “I did, yeah. Maybe it’s hayfever.”
“Or something else seasonal.” Seungmin scoffs, checking the time on his phone. “I mean, you and Chan get pretty weird when you don’t have your meds around this time, right?”
Felix tilts his head with a cringe of doubt. “Well, yeah, but what’re the chances, y’know? Three of eight guys in one spot in Korea being part of the same near extinct species of extraterrestrial. X to doubt or whatever.”
“Yeah, fair.” Seungmin runs a hand through the brown strands of hair that catch Felix’s sickly golden light. “I mean, wouldn’t put it past fate at this point. It already gave us two.”
Felix scoffs to himself. Fate.
“Whatever.” Seungmin pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “I’ll go grab Innie. I won’t knock on hyung’s door in case he’s sleeping.”
“Alright, cool.” Felix hums, shaking his head slightly to move his hair from his face. He throws his head back over the back of his seat, staring at the upside down image of Seungmin leaving his doorway. “You gonna be home tonight?”
”Ah, probably not.” Seungmin laughs to himself, turning back to Felix with a grin.
“Oh, why?” Felix mirrors the grin that stretches Seungmin’s features. “Ya got plans?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say my plans.” Seungmin seems to be finding a roundabout way to tell Felix something. Felix almost giggles at the attempt as Seungmin hums against the thought. “Did you know that there’s an alternate reality somewhere where I spend tonight on a double date with Jeongin because Jongho from ATEEZ asked him out and he’s too shy to go by himself so I’m going with Yunho to third — or I guess, fourth — wheel the maknaes?”
Felix scoffs. “Oh really ? Is there now?”
“Yeah.” Seungmin’s grin degenerates into a dramatic sigh. “But who knows what reality that is, you know? Could be this reality but, you know, you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Uh huh.” Felix rolls his eyes slightly. “Right. Well, is there a reality where I hear all about it when you two get home?”
Seungmin gives an exaggerated shrug. “I dunno! We can only theorise!”
Felix laughs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, alright. Get outta here. I’ll keep an eye on Hyung tonight, okay?”
“Yeah.” Seungmin’s hand wraps around Felix’s door handle as he slowly lessens the gap between the door and its frame. “Text me if you need anything while we’re out.”
“Will do. Keep an eye on the baby.”
“Always.”
Felix smiles softly to himself at the sentiment. The baby. They all know Jeongin is grown, he has been for a long time, but they can’t pretend their perception of him is going to change anytime soon.
Felix’s door clicks shut and Felix pulls out his phone, glancing down at his texts. He doesn’t want to take Minho entirely off guard. He wants to give him a warning. But there’s an inherent comfort in knowing he’s not the only one who’s suspicious or confused. Seungmin clearly thinks something, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Changbin already knows what’s going on.
“It’s a bit annoying.” Felix muses quietly to himself, a habit he’s picked up from his audio journaling. “I feel like it’s difficult to know anything before Changbin. Which is funny considering he can’t read a room for shit, but the moment you ask him one question he’s read your contents down to the dedications at the back of the book.”
Felix swings one leg over the other as he flicks Minho a text. It’s short, sweet. Vague enough that maybe Minho won’t sense his suspicious nature.
“u good?”
Felix has always been known for his artistic expression and eloquence. He times it — if Minho doesn’t answer in five minutes he’ll text again, slightly more concerned, maybe a mention of takeout. If that doesn’t get him replying or coming out to the living room within the next ten minutes, Felix will go check his room.
“I’m not exactly sure how I’ll follow this plan up if he does answer my text.” Felix mutters to himself. “Because if he does then what? Do I just interrogate him in the kitchen? Do I sniff him until I can confirm whether or not he’s Altean?”
Felix pinches the bridge of his nose.
Being Altean wasn’t exactly out of the picture, but the idea of it — like stated in his notes — is incredibly unlikely. Alteans have been all but extinct for thousands of years, save very few very far away from earth, and the four or five that Felix knows himself. And even on that front, considering the circumstances of his birth? He could hardly say he counts.
Five minutes passes without another text, so Felix moves on to phase two of his plan.
He sends some obscure image to Minho, followed by a pitiful “ whoops ”. He waits a minute longer.
"yo uhhhhhh i’m ordering out do you want anything?”
Ten minutes of Felix spinning in his chair, staring at the hollow shadow that paints over his ceiling. He draws his fingers through his hair, occasionally staring at the empty screen of his phone. Delivered. It was no use. But no use was good news.
Felix stands up, following the dotted line of his plan across the room as he makes his way out of the bedroom door.
The house is quiet, the walls almost singing with the silence as Felix walks a sure path towards Minho’s bedroom door. His socks press into the carpet as he pulls half of his hair back, tying it half up to transfer the heat of the moment away from his ears. He’s burning up with nerves, his heart beating in his ears as his trembling fingers press to the wood of Minho’s door.
It’s courtesy, he thinks. He still respects Minho’s privacy, after all. After a shaky breath, he brings his knuckles to the wood. The door sings with a choir of hollow knocks as Felix waits in patience for Minho’s answer.
“Hyung?”
The silence lurks behind the door like a hand on the handle, warm fingers tentatively snaked around the cool metal against the prediction of Felix’s touch. There’s a pause where Felix’s fingertips draw like unsure claws over the metal, listening to the hissing scratch of keratin against the handle.
Felix hears a whine, harsh and pained, from beyond the door. His breath turns hollow in his ribs as he feels his heart stop, his mind racing with possibilities as he swallows harshly.
They’re a house full of boys. There’s a possibility — a strikingly heavy possibility — that the moan is something that isn’t inherently disconcerting. The kind of moan that has your toes curling and your hair static as it drags against the pillowcase, thighs shuddering and chest trembling with breaths that weigh down on the rapid beating of your heart.
But what if this is the exception? What if this is the one time where the spill against the sheets is red and not white? What if he needs help? And Felix leaves. Felix leaves him fending for his life based on an assumption. Assumptions make an ass of you and I, or whatever the saying was. Assumptions lead to shallow graves and black umbrellas and slower music. Safe over sorry, Felix reassures himself with a stray thought.
Felix grabs the handle, twisting it harshly as he pushes his weight into the door. “Hyung?!”
The smell is the first thing that hits Felix — dizzyingly sweet, melted white chocolate littered with raspberries like blood in cream. He stumbles back as he swallows harshly, leaning on the door handle as he tries to stabilise himself. His head sways like a boat on unsure seas, his vision blurring over the painting of violet hues that draw across Minho’s sheets.
He focuses, his cheeks burning red under the heat of the room.
He’s painted in tones of a romantic lilac, eminence and wisteria, his ears pointed and eyes wide with confusion and hazy desire. They’re golden, irises blown wide as he stares up at Felix like a saviour. His cheeks are flushed a deeper hue, dark hair hanging in his desperate gaze as his fists tense around bunches of his sheets. Paler markings in a light mauve draw across his cheeks. He’s wearing a shirt Felix recognises to be Jisung’s, nothing but his boxers underneath as he sways in the pale light that blares over them.
Galran.
The scent that fills the room is leaking from Minho’s crotch like a broken faucet, drowning the pillow beneath his hips as his fists form into wilted roses against the bedsheets. Sweat beading against purple skin, eyes sparkling with humiliation like stars.
“Oh, hyung…” Felix says, his words dark in the chamber of his throat. There’s a crack to his tone, almost like he’s unsure, but it’s soothed over by a dizzying arousal and the rush of blood like alcohol straight down to the tip of his cock. He feels drunk as he wanders towards the bed. There’s desire like a possession leaning heavily over the room, making Felix’s bones groan with the weight. It’s poisonous, leaking into Felix’s blood as his voice drags against the well of his throat. He leans forward, dragging his fingers through Minho’s hair. “You’re…”
“Sorry…” Minho manages past a sob. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry—”
The apologies are repetitive but there’s no shift in his movement, no action to stop. Keeps swaying, the drenched pillowcase denting with shadow as Minho presses the warmth of his crotch into the material. His voice cracks with upset as he watches Felix, a silent prayer that he does something. Touch me, leave me, never look at me again . Humiliation sedimenting in the spillage that leaks between his trembling thighs.
Felix tries to silence the heavy groan that claws its way up his throat like a monster of desire, and suddenly he’s wondering if he smoked and already forgot. Arousal burns a joint of desire, the smoke dizzying him with a warm buzz over the edges of his body like static, his fingers fuzzy as he drags his fingers through Minho’s hair. “No one here to take care of you…”
The words wrap their clammy fists around Minho’s humiliation and shove it deeper, deeper, deeper until it drowns — its final breath manifesting in a needy moan that tumbles from Minho’s lips as he stares up at Felix. The shame has whittled itself down to nothing as he stares blearily up at Felix, his hips practically digging into the pillow with impatience and clear intention.
Felix’s senses are simultaneously dulled and heightened, like a blaring scanner of awareness that draws across a dull environment. He tugs experimentally on the dark violet tones of Minho’s hair, drawing forth a sound that Felix would kill to hear echo through the pews in an empty church, a wordless sound that draws on like a beg.
“I’m…” There’s a crack in Minho’s voice as he shudders below Felix’s shadow. “I’m taking care of myself again…”
He’s searching for something in Felix’s attention — Praise, pity or the tearing of his fingers into Minho’s pliant limbs and trembling muscles. Felix curls his lips into a smile at the irony of Jisung’s shirt shielding Minho’s figure from him, the hem of the shirt soaked in Minho’s warm arousal as he leans his head into Felix’s reassuring palm. He draws tender fingertips down Minho’s cheek and cups his jaw, tilting his face up with a curious smooth of his thumb pad against the violet of Minho’s blushing skin.
“You are, aren’t you?” Felix’s voice strains against the desire swelling in his throat, bubbling into drunken words of desperation that he forces down with a clearing of his throat. “Taking care of yourself so well, Minho.”
“Hyung…” Minho’s attempt to assert his title falls flat as his voice sweetens into a moan, the wet drag of his hips against the pillow slowing but never daring to stop. He tastes the word with a flutter of his lashes, the dizzying heat of his cheek burning against Felix’s palm like hot iron.
Felix’s gaze is heavy with consideration and lust. “Mmm, but hyung’s not the right word right now, is it?”
“No…” Minho’s tone is drawly with this 'please-use-me' sort of sweetness that leaves his tongue drawing needily along the inside of his own teeth.
Felix shudders at the thought of his own words, his voice cracking slightly under nerves as he eased himself into the water of the scene. “Good boy.”
Minho’s gaze flutters as his attention latches onto Felix’s blushing features. The blood permeating beneath his skin turns his freckles into a dusty rose in Minho’s gaze, his blinks heavy as he presses the soft of his cheek into the curve of Felix’s trembling palm. There’s a warmth of guidance that Felix is used to, a haze of sobriety that washes over Minho for a brief moment — drawing the final markings on Felix’s map of pleasure before the inevitable melting of his body as he gives in.
“‘m I a good girl?”
It’s slurred, hazy, warm, but it’s certain. He knows he is, he knows he’s a good girl, but it’s an invitation. It’s handing Felix the loaded gun, guiding his nervous hold around the body of the firearm and pressing his forehead to the mouth of the pistol with a patient smile. Guidance. The map to Minho’s pleasure.
Felix cocks the metaphorical gun, feeding his fingertips beneath Minho’s jaw as he tilts it up with a lopsided smile. “Such a good girl.”
He watches the moment where Minho’s rendered helpless — blown wide pupils practically shuddering in the golden pool of his irises as he drills his hips further into the cover of the pillow beneath his hips with a warming moan. He draws trembling hands to Felix’s hips, his thumbs pressing to the boy’s pelvis as he tries to steady himself. His hips drag clumsily against the further dampening pillow. He drops his head into Felix’s vee line, the warmth of his scalp beneath his hair burning the flesh beneath Felix’s belly button. The silky strands of hair drag against the blonde’s abdomen as Minho rolls his skull against the line of his basketball shorts. Forehead to the tip of his nose, a path bound to kill the blonde, the jutted pout of Minho’s upper lip dragging against Felix’s erection. Felix’s head lolls back as he feels Minho’s warm breath drawing across his shorts before Minho shuffles them down his thighs. Minho’s teasing lips open into the chamber of his wet, hot mouth — pink walls rendering Felix’s briefs damp as he stares up at him with eyes blown wide.
He ruts against the pillow as he mouths noncommittally at the younger boy’s twitching erection through the layer of miserably damp fabric. The quick jutter of Minho’s hips is contrapuntal to the slow drag of his mouth against his briefs. Felix’s breath is trapped in a shaking bubble in his throat as he grasps helplessly onto Minho’s hair.
”Inside…” Minho’s voice is fuzzy against Felix’s underwear, simple words dumbed down even further by the mind numbing arousal in Minho’s tone. His hands drag helplessly at Felix’s loose short pockets, grasping with desperation as his breath shakes within the room of his mouth like an unsure wind through an open door. “Need you… inside… want you…”
The words send Felix’s sanity careening through the churning heat in his gut as it turns to pure desire, swelling through his cock as he lets his voice melt into a pathetic groan. "Fuck.”
The memory of the groan shudders through the numb muscle of Felix’s tongue as he stumbles forward, knee first beside Minho’s stuttering hips and forming a dent in the mattress. He kicks off his shorts as he trips — knee followed by knee followed by the tumbling weight of his body shoving Minho back into the mattress and off the soiled pillow. Minho gasps — shuddering, desperate, wanting, needing .
”No, no, no!” His voice is riddled with the shake of a yet unspoken plea. “No, please, please, please, I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it.”
His voice echoes back his own words in a repetitive chorus — voice cracking with a tearless sob. It’s the loss of the pressure of the pillow, his wanting hips wiggling against the air in a desperate search for pressure. Felix leans over him, folding his knees until he bends. Watching in interest as Minho’s knees lift higher and he’s greeted with the pressure of Minho’s soaked underwear against the bulge in his dampened briefs. Minho groans at the contact, keening as he rewards Felix with an arch. Perfect and mastered, Felix considers, wanting and waiting, earning. Earning Felix’s touch.
Felix’s arm curls into the arch of his waist like ivy as he braces himself on the bed beside Minho, dragging his damp erection against the sopping wet fabric of Minho’s underwear. Minho’s moans are unabashed — loud and whiny and needy, dumb and warm against the shallow air between them as his mouth curls into a smile. It’s almost sadistic — the smile broken by pants of pleasure as his eyes roll back in his skull with the desire of the scene between them.
”Yes, yes, oh god, fuck yes…” The desperation colours itself in a new shade as Minho shudders beneath the pressure of Felix’s hips, curling into his embrace as Felix drags his cock against Minho’s underwear.
“So fucking wet, fuck…” He says with a hiss. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
“Mmm, fill me up…” Minho’s words slur against the roof of his mouth as he claws at Felix’s shirt. “Mm, want you… naked, Bok..kie… fillin’ me up.”
He pointedly finishes his sentence with a popped P before he digs the crown of his head into the duvet, twisting helplessly beneath Felix’s shadow. The moan that draws from Felix’s lips is low and guttural as he presses his nose into the crook of Minho’s neck, breathing in the sickening sweetness of his desire. “Fuck, you want me to fill you up?”
“All full…” Minho’s almost possessed by the haze of desire. “Wan’ you to stuff me full, wanna be all full…”
There’s a chill of sobriety that draws over Felix’s senses like a bucket of cold water as he trembles against Minho. “Baby, n-no, I can’t fill you up… I can’t… You’ll get pregnant…”
“Pregnant…” Minho drawls dreamily, trying desperately to wiggle out of his underwear. “Wan’ a… wan’ a baby… Please, fill me up… Make me a pregnant… a pregnant kitty… been such a good girl…”
Every word draws Felix closer to the most embarrassing premature orgasm he could possibly have, but the desire burns like a hot iron against his skin and convinces him to do something useful with it. He moans, needy and desiring, before he lets the filth tumble from his lips like throw up.
“Yeah? You want me to fill you up?” He groans, interrupting his own monologue with a gentle suction on Minho’s clavicle. The skin bruises into a hazy, spotted raspberry. He nibbles on the skin, moaning softly at the taste as Minho gives an approving whine of pleasure. “Huh? Pretty princess wants to get used and filled up? Wanna be my good pregnant kitty?”
“Yes, yes, yes…” Minho’s tone is husky with desire as he groans under the subtle serration of Felix’s teeth. “Yes, yes, yes, fill up… please… need your— need to be pregnant… Been such a good kitty…”
“Such a good kitty, that’s right.” Felix’s voice drones into Minho’s skin, breath leaving his tone floaty in his mouth. “Such a good girl for me, yeah? Gonna be all fuckin’ pregnant for me. So fuckin’ good.”
Felix’s voice sends Minho into a delirious daze of lust, his hips rutting desperately against Felix’s own. He whines, clawing at Felix as his golden eyes dart around the room in desperation. “Voice… Bokkie…”
“You like my voice?” Felix ghosts his lips near the shell of Minho’s ear, his voice dropping dangerously as he dips his fingers into Minho’s underwear. He finds Minho’s cock with tender fingertips, tracing teasingly down the small length. “You’re so needy baby, why are you so wet, huh? Didn’t know Galrans did all—”
There’s a slit. In his balls.
“...this…” Felix says with a frown, his voice lowering. “What the…”
Felix lets his fingers dip further, examining with a blind search. Plush lips, soft with a small amount of bush as he dips his fingers further past his small cock. He can feel the way Minho squirms with every sensation, his fingers trailing down Felix’s arms as Felix paints over his nerves with callused fingertips.
An entrance.
Felix presses his fingers inside, feeling the way Minho’s entire body contracts at the sensation. He claws at Felix’s back, the markings on his cheeks illuminating slightly under the pleasure. Minho rocks his hips, a wet glob of slick squeezing around Felix’s fingers and coating them as he curls them into Minho’s entrance.
“Holy shit, Minho, wha— “ Felix shuffles down the bed, desperately yanking off Minho’s underwear. He spreads Minho’s thighs, his eyes practically bulging at what he sees.
A pussy. Soft, tender, dripping slick onto Minho’s sheets as he squirms beneath Felix’s judging shadow. His arousal drips in large globs of viscous liquid, slick and sweet as it rolls out of him like marbles.
Where his clit should be, a cock. It’s burning red, hard under Felix’s stare as it twitches and drips. The veins blush in the hazy light that dizzies Felix’s perception and dulls the voice that drags along his senses — the voice that begs him to be more responsible, the voice that tells him not to give in to temptation.
“So beautiful…” He mutters in spite of the voice that echoes. Perversion argues responsibility, the courteous presence of sense of mind, the angel of reason. All linked into one mind that draws in on itself in the presence of such temptation — the law of ouroboros, the rule of self annihilation in the search for pleasure. Felix groans over the presence of the voices, dropping his head between Minho’s legs.
Minho practically screams as Felix’s tongue drags through Minho’s pussy all the way up to the tip of his cock. He suckles gently on the head of his cock, humming softly as he pushes his head further down. Takes him whole, greedy for such little things with big implications. His tongue draws around his cock as his fingers circle Minho’s dribbling entrance.
Minho is beyond words as he dips his head back, babbling incoherently into the dense, warm air of the room. His eyes blown wide, hands grasping desperately at the sheets as he slings his legs over Felix’s shoulders. Felix eats like he’s starved, the sound of his hungry groans reverberates through Minho’s core. His whines are coarse with desperation and raw desire as he reaches for Felix’s hair. He can say nothing, the pleasure far too intense to warrant any sort of coherent thought.
Felix takes a handful of the leaking slick that Minho produces so generously, warming it over his hands before he takes Minho’s twitching cock into a loose fist. He keeps his hand and tongue busy as he explores Minho’s entrance, pumping his cock in a slick hand as he looks up at the older boy through long lashes.
He’s a mess — all thrashing limbs and squirming hips as he tries to at least say something into the mess of it all. But he’s incomprehensible — Minho’s words melting into desperate moans and choked up whines at the dual stimulation. Felix is all wet sounds and fuzzy thoughts as he digs crescent dents into Minho’s plush thighs, groaning into his wet heat before dragging his tongue up the length of his chubbed up cock. He swirls his tongue around the head, lips drawing into a shit eating grin as he stares through hooded lids at Minho’s desperate expression. There’s a sort of throaty sound he makes in response to the expression that makes Minho whine in the top of his throat, throwing his head back again as he arches helplessly into Felix’s touch.
“You good up there, kitty?” Felix’s grin turns to mockery as he cocks his chin at the elder.
But Minho doesn’t give him the usual. The groan and roll of his eyes as he tells him to shut up. He gets a whine, a moan and a dizzy gaze that reminds him just how fragile Minho is right now. He lifts his head, holding Felix’s gaze for only a moment before his blown pupils are hidden behind long, dark lashes. He drops his head back, a gush of slick leaking from his cunt and onto Felix’s pumping fingers as his face falls with how deep Minho is into this all.
Felix is pretty deep into the heat hormones himself now, if he’s honest. His is due, and having someone so close going through his own isn’t exactly helpful.
“Alright, alright, sorry, baby.” Felix chuckles, the sound straining as he leans over Minho’s tender stomach. He keeps one hand pumping the older boy’s length as he clumsily meets his lips, awkwardly trying to navigate the kiss as he licks into his gasping mouth.
“Been a good girl…” Minho slurs. Speaks the words into the muscle of Felix’s tongue as he drags sharp teeth against it.
“I know, I know…” Felix shushes him, pumping his small fist over Minho’s cock. “Such a good girl for me, yeah? You’ve been so good…”
Minho nods profusely, upper lip jutted out as he watches Felix withdraw from his lips. His pupils are blown wide, sparkling as his lashes are lined with tears. Felix hums, dragging his fist faster. “You gonna cum for me, huh? Gonna cum for me like a good girl?”
“Yeah…” Minho drawls, drool trailing down his chin as he stares up at Felix. His stare moves to his blushing cock and where it’s trapped in Felix’s hold, panting desperately as he nears his climax.
“Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and cum for me? Huh?” Felix eggs him on, lips turning up sadistically as he watches Minho fall apart. The older boy thrusts helplessly into Felix’s hand as his breath fogs between them, a whine trailing through the air as he draws closer and closer.
Minho cries out, his cock bursting across his shirt — Jisung's shirt — pathetically. Felix is quick to look back out of pure wonder and curiosity as Minho’s pussy convulses, leaking profusely onto the sheets beneath them as he falls apart.
Felix’s breath comes in a sort of half chuckle as he stares at Minho in awe. “That’s so hot…”
“Baby…” Minho drawls sadly, looking up at Felix in disappointment as he sits up on his elbows.
Felix spins around, gently pushing Minho into the sheets. “Shhh, yeah, I know, I know.” He adjusts Minho, gently pulling off the soaked shirt and exposing his figure to the room. Felix drags his fingertips down the plush of his figure as he quietly takes in the details of Minho’s body like a painting. Markings of a pale mauve lick over his violet skin and mark him like tiger stripes, but every detail Felix has known of his body is the same. The dimples of his thighs, the little moles and the fact of stretch marks. Everything is still him. It’s still Minho .
He crawls up Minho’s body once more, cupping his cheek as he stares down at him in pity. There’s a sobriety that washes over him for only a moment as he draws his thumb over the blushing apple of Minho’s cheek, concern drawing his features into a frown.
“We can’t do this, Minho…” He whispers behind his tongue.
Minho sobs at the words, grasping at Felix’s shirt with trembling fingers. “No, no, no, please—!” He chokes on his own words, tears rolling down his blushing skin. “Hurts. Hurts so bad, ‘m so empty, Yongbokie! Please…”
“We’re not…” Felix begins, fighting against the heavy daze of arousal. “You’re not in your right mind, and I’m barely holding on.”
There’s a slight shine of clarity that sparks in Minho’s eyes as his hands come to Felix’s face, cupping his jaw with a flicker of wonder in the depth of his widened pupils.
“Then let go.”
The words tear into Felix’s remaining tether like a blade, and the boy crashes over Minho like a tidal wave. He’s groping helplessly at Minho’s flesh, grinding the hot, wet patch of the front of his briefs against Minho’s exposed pussy before dragging it desperately against his twitching cock. He falls into Minho’s lips, relishing in the feeling of Minho’s fingers clawing at his hair — tugging, digging, yanking. There’s a sharp tug that sends Felix’s head falling back, his hair dragging along the blades of his shoulders as he lets out a groan in the chamber of his throat.
“There you go, yes, fuck, yes!” Minho’s lips twist into a grin that’s almost sadistic, eyes shining. “Let go, Bokkie… Fuck, yes! Yes, please, Bokkie…”
“So fucking needy…” Felix’s voice bubbles beneath the bobble of his Adam’s apple, low and sultry in a way that makes Minho leak.
“Mhm!” The pathetic whine returns to Minho’s lips as he nods affirmatively. “Need you… Need your baby, Bokkie, please…”
“Fuck, hyung, you gotta stop talking.” Felix grumbles, grabbing the collar of his shirt and yanking it over his head. Minho’s eyes jump across the golden painted canvas of Felix’s pale chest under the yellowed bedroom light, dragging his tongue along his sharpened teeth with a hungry moan.
“If I stop talking, will you fill me up like a good girl?”
There’s a long pause where Felix just stares at Minho with a drunken eye. He clambers over him again, fumbling as he yanks his cock out of the front of his briefs as he mouths at Minho’s jaw. “Oh my god, kitty, you’re gonna kill me…”
Minho returns to his favourite pastime of clawing at the blonde of Felix’s skull as he drags the head of his cock blindly against Minho’s pussy.
“Fuck, fuck, yes!” Minho’s encouragement shakes with excitement and need as he lets his gaze drop down to where Felix tries to find Minho’s entrance. “Fill me up, Bokkie…”
There’s a harsh draw of breath that fills the room when the head of his cock finally pushes past the tight ring of Minho’s entrance. Minho breaks the silence with a strangled laugh, eyes sparkling with relief as he relaxes into the pillows. Felix groans, dragging his teeth along the naked skin of Minho’s shoulder. “Fuck…”
“Baby…” Minho drawls dizzily, eyes falling shut as he relaxes under Felix’s attention.
“Yeah, I’m gonna give you a baby, pretty girl.” Felix grunts, slowly pushing further into Minho.
Minho purrs. Not a sultry sort of sound, but a genuine purr that draws through his entire body. It vibrates around Felix’s already sensitive and throbbing length, making him yelp as he drops his face into Minho’s neck.
He knew Galrans could purr, that’s no surprise. He didn’t know you could feel it when you were inside them.
Felix can’t hold back after he drags out of Minho’s heat, thrusting back in at an alarming pace that has Minho clawing into the rolling muscles beneath the skin on his shoulders, trying his best not to bite into the boy as he hammers into him with unrivalled determination.
“So good! So good, oh, Bokkie…” Minho’s eyes roll back as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow, arching into Felix’s hold when he feels his arm snake his waist like ivy. “‘M your good girl, hm? Am I your good girl? Get pregnant?”
Felix groans as he hears Minho slipping further from his conscious mind, overcome by the heat of the moment. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”
“Pregnant?” Felix can feel Minho’s drool drag over his skin as he draws his lips over Felix’s clavicle.
Felix presses a few slightly aggressive kisses to Minho’s cheekbone as he continues thrusting erratically, trying to level his breathing as he draws closer to his embarrassingly fast release. “Yeah, I’ll get you pregnant, hyungie…”
“Baby?” The older boy’s voice is floaty as his eyes roll back, bearing his neck for the blonde’s affection. Felix takes the opportunity, sucking desperately into the skin there just to see what colour he bruises. The skin quickly turns a reddened violet, spotty in its birth but Felix knows it will smooth into a more even mark once he’s done with Minho.
“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna put a baby in you.” Felix sneers into Minho’s neck, his small hands drawing down to the gentle curve of Minho’s waist. “Gonna get you so fucking pregnant, hyung. Gonna have my babies, huh?”
“Yes, yes, yes, baby, baby, baby…” The echoing of his words sounds almost sadistic as he fists into the sheets, arching closer to Felix once more. The blonde reaches between them, wrapping a fist around Minho’s cock and drawing a loud moan out of him. It’s chesty and full, raw and needy and desperate as his voice slowly trails up in pitch.
“Gonna—” He yelps softly.
“I know, I know, fuck.” Felix’s hips stutter, slowing, speeding up again. His knees hit an awkward spring in Minho’s mattress but he can’t care, desperately thrusting into Minho’s trembling body. “Come on, come on, come on—!”
Their releases fall together perfectly — the flooding of Felix’s within Minho triggering his second orgasm. He cries out, pleasure whitening his vision as his nails dig crescents into the younger boy’s shoulder blades. There’s blood on his lip where his fangs have dug into the dried skin, but he pays it no mind — runs his tongue over the liquid and purrs at the taste of copper. Felix crashes into his lips, making the most of the last of his energy as he drags his hands down his waist and gropes at his hips.
“Baby…” Minho coos half mindedly — this distant sound that makes Felix chuckle into his open mouth.
“Yeah, you crazy fucking cunt.” Felix scoffs incredulously. Kisses the insult away, licking into Minho’s toothy grin. “All full with a baby.”
Minho blinks sleepily. “Pregnant.”
Felix’s lashes draw against Minho’s skin as he drops his face into the crook of his neck, groaning with the realisation of their situation. “ Fuck , I guess so, huh?”
There’s a long moment where Felix feels Minho’s breathing change — slow, sleepy, satiated breaths puffing into something panicked. There’s a whisper that leaves his lips, barely there but Felix hears him. “I am so sorry.”
Felix lets his softening cock stay enveloped in Minho’s heat as he presses a few kisses to his cheeks. “Hyungie, it’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll work this all out.”
“I didn’t want you to find out like this.” He bites back a sob. He bites back a sob. Felix has barely ever seen Minho really cry aside from today, and maybe a few sparkly tears under stage lights, but the genuine fear building in Minho’s chest makes him tremble under the fear of the moment.
“Minho.” Felix cups his jaw, small hands finding a perfect spot on his rounded cheeks. “You’re safe. I don’t care what you are. We wouldn’t be here right now if I cared.”
“I thought you’d hate me.” Minho reasons, sitting up as Felix’s flaccid cock flops against his pale thigh like a dead fish. “You and Channie, I thought—”
Felix sits back on his haunches, watching as Minho wipes his eyes with the heel of his palm. Minho’s voice trembles, “Never thought you’d… want me here.”
“I’m not gonna kick you out cause of some race war a whole galaxy away, Minho.” Felix scoffs, shaking his head. “Especially not with the history we have now. You kidding? You’re my hyung before all of that.”
Minho looks up at him, eyes sparkling with tears as his lip juts into a pout. “Guess so.”
There’s another pause — lighter, warmer. Minho gives an incredulous laugh, shaking his head as he sniffles harshly. “This is the weirdest post sex talk I’ve ever had.”
Felix cackles. Smacks him on the shoulder like nothing’s changed, and somehow that makes Minho’s smile brighter. “Yeah, aye? Hold on, let me— uh, grab a fuckin’… pack o’ wipes.”
His words trail into mutters as he starts looking around Minho’s room, eventually finding a pack of baby wipes in his bedside drawer. He pulls some out of the sealed package, tutting behind pouted lips as Minho watches him curiously.
“Felix?”
Felix looks up, eyes wide and eager. “Yeah?”
Minho bites his lip, guilt flooding his gaze as he tilts his head nervously. “You won’t tell Chan, right?”
Felix purses his lips. Chan is a little more involved in Altean culture and history than Felix has ever been. He’s also more protective, as comes with having other Alteans to look after. Felix logically knows Chan would never discriminate against Minho — he loves him, he always has. But he can’t help but think about how warranted Minho’s fear is.
But can Chan truly protect Minho if he doesn’t know something this vital? No, he can’t.
But Felix can.
Felix smiles — this weak sort of stretch of his lips that’s not quite reassuring, but is definitely an attempt at consolation.
“You have my word.”