Work Text:
Felix didn’t know how many times he had gone up and down these stairs, and it was only nine in the morning. He paused in the doorway to adjust his grip on the heavy box he was carrying, scrunching up his face at the slight twinge in his shoulder. Moving was never easy—he had done it far too many times himself—but it seemed improbable that all these belongings had even fit in his tiny dorm room before. Seriously, there wasn’t even a need for all the clothes he had shoved into these boxes. Carrying all this shit wasn’t worth the hassle.
As he was just standing there, eyes glazing over, leaning his weight against the doorframe, Seungmin suddenly appeared before him, wearing a cautious smile. “Hey,” he said, reaching for the box. His voice was oddly soft. “Do you mind grabbing me a coffee down the street? I’ll pay you back later. You should get something, too.”
Sometimes, even after all the years they’d spent together, Felix felt that he was too much for Seungmin, always moving around, incapable of staying still. They were so different, after all, that their dissimilarities tended to loom over them and appear irreconcilable. Seungmin was just so organized, with his rigid routines and the way he carried himself with his head held high, shoulders thrown back—everything Felix wished came to him naturally. Other times, however, it was like Seungmin could read his mind.
“We still have two more boxes to carry,” Felix protested, even as Seungmin began to turn away. He glared at the back of his head. Seungmin was wearing his glasses and jeans, back muscles rippling under his worn white shirt. He looked so cozy. Like there was really nothing to worry about.
Seungmin glanced back over his shoulder, feigning nonchalance. “That’s a one-person job, dumbass,” he called, already halfway into the kitchen. Then he was disappearing down the hall, where the bedrooms were, and Felix had no choice but to head back down the stairs, down the sidewalk, all the way to the café on the street corner, where he ordered a small pastry for himself and a cup of coffee for Seungmin.
As Felix waited for his name to be called, his eyes struggled to adjust to the harsh overhead lighting, the world appearing blurry and indistinct before his eyes, one shape impossible to make out from another. Everything passed by and through him like morning mist. He couldn’t help but feel that the world was spinning too quickly, that it was taking too long for his vision to catch up after his eyes moved. It was a strange feeling, like he wasn’t really there. Walking back to the dorm, balancing everything in his hands, Felix kept blinking, as if that would make everything appear more solid before his eyes. As if that would help him feel like a person.
Maybe it was because he was moving away from Jeongin and Minho, whom he had gotten used to living with, but it was like there were sudden bursts of electricity underneath his skin, making him feel restless.
The walk didn’t help much to clear his mind. Back inside the dorm, it was so quiet that his ears rang with the stark silence. “I’m back,” Felix called when he entered, setting the coffee cup down on the kitchen counter. Seungmin rounded the corner just a moment later, grinning and wiping his hands on his jeans, but he stopped when he saw Felix, his eyes narrowing. It was—intense. Felix squirmed under his gaze, breaking eye contact, and immediately asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Seungmin just stared at him, in the way he sometimes did, leaning back against the wall to cross his arms. “Why do you think?” came his belated reply. His voice was very low.
“Uh.” Felix tried to think, but he couldn’t. All that was in his brain was white static. “I don’t know?” It came out like a question.
For a moment, Seungmin still didn’t say anything. He just kept looking at Felix, as if expecting him to say something more. When Felix remained silent, fiddling with his rings, Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “Come here,” he said at last. There was no expression on his face that anyone could see. Unlike Felix, he didn’t phrase it like a question. It was an order.
“I—”
Felix shut his mouth so quickly that his teeth clacked together. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say. Another beat passed. Seungmin finally said, softer, “Come on, baby, I got you,” so then he went.
As soon as he was close enough, Seungmin leaned forward to crush their lips together, fingers closing around the soft fabric of Felix’s sweatshirt to drag him closer. It was very sudden, without any sort of prelude. Felix let out a startled little moan, his breath hitching, but then Seungmin was pressing himself closer, one hand coming up to support the back of Felix’s head, warm tongue dipping into Felix’s mouth. It was something they’d done together before, they’d hooked up several times at that point—but it was never like this, so out of the blue. Felix kissed back clumsily, his brain still catching up, his arms hanging uselessly down at his sides, because he’d forgotten he could move them. This went on for some time. Seungmin let out a quiet laugh against his mouth and pulled back, taking Felix’s face in his hands. It took Felix a long moment to realize that he was saying something.
“What?” he managed, or at least he tried to. Nothing seemed to be working the way it usually did.
“You wanna?” Seungmin repeated. The look in his eyes was fond, and he was rubbing an absentminded circle on Felix’s jaw with his thumb. Like it was really that simple. “You look like you need it.”
Felix’s brain went entirely blank. “Sex, you mean?”
Seungmin laughed again, as if Felix was the funniest person in the world. “Yeah,” he murmured, pressing his lips to Felix’s temple. His arms dropped down to circle Felix’s waist. “Wanna take care of you.”
“I mean, I’m not gonna say no to that.”
“That’s cute,” Seungmin said softly, smiling a little. Felix scrunched up his face, because cute was the last thing he was feeling right now, but then Seungmin was leaning down again, kissing Felix hard, and it was all he could do to try to keep up. He reached up to tangle his fingers in Seungmin’s hair, but Seungmin just shook his head, grabbing Felix’s thin wrist. “It’s okay,” he was saying, “you’re okay, just let me do this for you, alright?”
What exactly he meant by that, Felix didn’t know. All he knew was this: Seungmin getting his hands on Felix’s waist again, lips never separating, walking him backwards steadily until they stumbled back against the wall together. Seungmin’s fingers hooking in the loops of Felix’s jeans, dragging them down, and then he kneeled down, taking Felix into his mouth. Felix’s lips going slack, head thrown back against the wall, as he lifted one shaky to the back of Seungmin’s head. All the colors of the world were blurring together before his eyes. He was hurtling toward some precipice at top speed, falling from an incredible height with no foreseeable landing.
It struck him that this was the first time they could do this without holding back. Before, they had to keep quiet because the others were always there. Now they could just fuck whenever they wanted.
All of a sudden, just when Felix felt he was about to finish, Seungmin pulled back with a slick pop that seemed far too loud for their quiet dorm, kissing the tip once. His mouth began wandering down the side of Felix’s thighs, biting a bruise into the soft skin there. He dug his teeth into the stinging mark before kissing over it again.
“Fuck,” Felix moaned, his eyes blurring again, “ fuck, please, wanna come.” Without realizing it, his hands had clenched into shaky fists in Seungmin’s hair. He had waited so long. He couldn’t wait anymore.
“Didn’t say you could,” Seungmin mumbled, his voice sounding strained against Felix’s thigh. He had shoved one of his hands down the front of his own jeans, and he was touching himself. Getting off on making Felix wait. “Wanna mark you up first. Make you mine.” Felix opened his mouth to protest, to say anything , but all that escaped was a strangled moan, his voice breaking at the end. Seungmin’s hand started to move faster. “Fuck, yeah,” he grunted, twisting his wrist, eyes fluttering shut, “you’re so hard for me, sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet, Jesus Christ.”
And that—that made Felix’s mouth fall open, and he gasped hard for air. It wasn’t like he was a fucking girl, he thought harshly, he wasn’t a girl, he knew that. He didn’t want to be anyone’s girl. But his cock was leaking a steady stream against his stomach, and Seungmin was furiously jerking himself off as he left Felix hanging, and Felix was wet for him—
He must’ve made a strange whimpering sound, because Seungmin suddenly opened his eyes to look at Felix, hand stilling. His face was somewhat flushed behind his glasses, and he was breathing very heavily. “You okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Do you want to stop?”
That was the last thing Felix wanted. “No,” he answered honestly.
“Do you—uh, do you want me to stop talking?”
He knew what Seungmin was really asking. If Felix liked it when Seungmin called him things like baby and sweetheart. If Felix wanted to be dominated.
Felix blinked a couple times. When his voice was finally working again, he repeated very quietly, “No,” the word coming out syrupy and sweet, like it was made of sticky honey. His tongue felt too thick in his mouth. “No, I don’t. Please, I just—I just want you.”
Seungmin laughed a little, but his brow was furrowed. He had wrapped his hand around Felix again, but now he was just sitting there, raising his eyebrows. “You just want me?” he echoed incredulously. Seungmin was just so fucking logical, it was unbelievable. Felix groaned, letting his head loll back against the wall. He tried to fuck into Seungmin’s loose fist, but it wasn’t good enough, and besides, Seungmin reached up with his free hand to pin Felix’s hip down. He leveled Felix with another look. “Seriously,” he said, and for once he did sound rather serious, “there must be something you want.”
Why they were having an entire conversation right now, Felix didn’t know. “Yeah, you.”
“Yeah? What do you want me to do to you?”
“I don’t know,” Felix said, frustrated. “Whatever you want.”
Seungmin was frowning again. He was quiet for a long while, but at the very least, he was moving his hand again, twisting his wrist the way Felix always liked. “Well, what if I wanted to drip hot wax on you as we fucked,” he finally said. “Would you still want that, then?”
“Well—! I mean. If you wanted to, I guess we could try it?”
“Yeah? What if I wanted to dress you up like a cat?”
Felix’s eyes fluttered open, and he glared down at Seungmin. “Can you not,” he said. Their fans made enough comparisons of him to cats, and he would rather keep that out of the bedroom, thank you very much.
“So you wouldn’t do whatever I wanted,” Seungmin said in this smug way, as if he knew everything.
He thought about it for a moment. “I mean, I didn’t say that. I would probably still do it if you wanted me to.”
“Jesus,” Seungmin muttered under his breath, and then, “I don’t want those things, by the way. Those were just the most ridiculous examples I could think of.”
“Okay.”
“Just okay? Really? Nothing else?”
Felix was confused. “Well, what am I supposed to say?”
“Oh my God. Just—” Seungmin shook his head slightly, breathing out through his nose, before leaning forward and taking Felix into his mouth again. Then there wasn’t much talking at all.
Even after Felix finally came, his entire body was trembling as if the crest of an unstoppable wave was washing over him. Seungmin immediately got to his feet and kissed his mouth. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he kept whispering, holding their bodies very close together. Felix wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing this, but he wasn’t going to complain. He just buried his face in Seungmin’s shirt and breathed very heavily, until the rest of the world seemed to come back to him.
After a while, he noticed that Seungmin was still hard. “Here, let me,” Felix said, voice very raspy, reaching for the buckle of Seungmin’s jeans. For some strange reason, Seungmin shook his head, his cheeks pink, and said that it was okay, he didn’t need to come, but the longer Felix stared at him, the more Seungmin’s face flushed. He came very hard into Felix’s hand, fucking into his fist with these short little grunts as if they were already fucking, and then collapsing against Felix.
“Fuck,” Seungmin panted against his neck. “We should clean up, yeah? Shower?”
Felix’s damp eyelids fluttered, and he groaned. “Bed first,” he said.
“We don’t even have sheets on our beds yet.”
“Couch?”
“Okay, then, the couch. But only for a few minutes.”
After Seungmin wiped them down with a paper towel, they laid down on the couch together, even though it was much too small to fit the two of them properly. Felix laid his head on Seungmin’s chest and let his eyes fall shut. The noise in his brain had quieted down, somewhat, and now he could just breathe in the strong scent of Seungmin’s body wash, which was somewhat masculine and made him feel warm in the pit of his stomach, like liquid fire was trapped underneath his skin.
Even though he was nearly asleep, Felix still felt acutely the featherlight brush of Seungmin’s lips against the top of his head. “This was nice,” Seungmin whispered at last. Felix just snorted and said that he didn’t have to lie. They were quiet again for a long time, but when Seungmin finally did speak, his tone was unreadable. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that it was nice for me, but it probably wasn’t nice for you.”
“You don’t know what I like yet,” Seungmin argued. “Maybe I just like taking care of you.”
Yet. Yet. “Come on,” Felix said with a little laugh, turning his face into Seungmin’s shirt so that his voice was muffled. Talking this much after sex was making him sleepy. “All I did was stand there while you did all the work. You don’t have to tell me that you had a good time.”
They were laying so close together that he could hear it when Seungmin’s breath hitched, and then for a few seconds, he stopped breathing entirely. Felix twisted his head to look up at him—Seungmin was staring at him with that intense look in his eyes again, as if he was trying to figure something out—but then Seungmin looked away, and the moment was over. “Okay, Felix,” he said, sounding resigned. “If that’s what you think.” In a way he almost sounded upset, but that wasn’t right, because he was still holding Felix close, pressing his lips to the top of his head again. Nothing made sense. Nothing ever made any sense.
It was too hard, trying to figure out what other people wanted from him—their fans, the industry, their company, Seungmin himself. He was too tired. Felix just closed his eyes and let himself revel in the steady sound of Seungmin breathing until sleep overcame him. They didn’t end up getting in the shower until much later.
———
A couple days later, Jisung invited them to his dorm. “I miss you guys,” he told Felix over the phone. In the background, he could hear Minho’s muffled voice, and then Jisung laughed and said, “Well, Minho also says he’s afraid that you guys will burn down your dorm, so he’s gonna make us lunch.”
Felix ignored the jab. He missed them too much, anyway. “Free lunch? I’ll take it.” They made a plan to meet in an hour. After they hung up, he wandered over to Seungmin’s bedroom and knocked on the door. Seungmin answered, looking vaguely flushed. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t know you were working out.”
“No, I was getting off,” Seungmin answered, like it was obvious. “But I already came, so it’s fine.”
“Oh.” Felix felt the heat rise in his cheeks. “Okay.” Then they just stared at each other for a long moment, Seungmin refusing to break eye contact, not even to smile or laugh—was he being serious?— at least until Felix coughed and looked away, letting his gaze skitter to the floor. “Jisung and Minho invited us over for lunch,” he finally said, which—right, that was what he’d come over to say. “Wanna come?”
“Yeah, sure. That sounds better than the alternative.”
“What’s the alternative? Us cooking?”
“No fucking way,” Seungmin said with a laugh, shaking his head, but there was no heat in his voice. “Ordering takeout, I mean. We’re never cooking together again.”
“Okay, but we have a perfectly good kitchen.”
“Yeah, we do. I could think of other ways we could use it.”
Seungmin was dead serious again, his mouth not even twitching into another smile. Felix stared at him. Opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. “I never know when you’re joking,” was what he finally went with. Seungmin asked him what he meant. “Like, were you really—getting off?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, obviously,” Seungmin drawled, “I wouldn’t lie about that.” Then he was pushing past Felix to get to the bathroom, because I need to shower and you need to get out of your pajamas, Jesus Christ, it’s already almost noon, and then there was no time to think, there was no time for anything at all.
When they arrived at the other dorm, Felix was surprised when Chris answered the door. “Oh my God, hey,” he said in English as they gave each other a quick hug, “I didn’t know you were coming!” Chris smiled, rubbing the back of his flushed neck, and answered that he and Jeongin had just stopped by, but if Minho was making lunch, they were going to stay. “Honestly, that makes sense,” Felix agreed, letting Chris lead them further into the dorm. “Seungmin and I were just saying that we can’t cook together ever again.”
Seungmin looped an arm around his waist. “Yeah, he’s the worst,” he said, laughing, but when Chris wasn’t looking, he suddenly kissed Felix’s cheek. Without any reason or incentive. Just like that, out of the blue. Just because he wanted to. Felix froze for a second, his eyes going wide, but then Seungmin was pulling him along, arm still around his waist, talking to Chris as if nothing had happened. His face betrayed no emotion, so that it was impossible to tell whether it had actually happened or not.
Why did he feel the need to be so nice to Felix all the time, to do nice things for him? Was it because he thought Felix was too weak for this idol industry, that he needed constant reassurance? There was no rational explanation. It wasn’t like Felix had done anything special to deserve it. In fact, he hadn’t done anything at all. A sudden, unwarranted assault of memories hit him all at once: falling back against the wall, the slick warmth of Seungmin’s mouth around him, the floaty feeling that had pervaded Felix’s thoughts after, as if nothing was tethering him down to the ground anymore—at least until Seungmin had held him close, pressing all these gentle kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his fluttering eyelids. Like they were a fucking couple or something. It was all so—stupid.
Felix stopped in the doorway of the kitchen to wince at himself, but Seungmin didn’t notice, still busy talking to Chris, his arm sliding from Felix’s waist. Good. That was the way it should be. Things falling back into their right places.
Lunch was as fine as it could be. No one seemed to care when Seungmin pulled out Felix’s chair for him, only for Felix to migrate to the other side of the table, where Jeongin and Chris were sitting, because I don’t live with them, of course I want to talk to them, Seungmin, I see you everyday! This was all fine and great, except that he now had a complete view of Jisung and Minho talking quietly to each other, hands on each other’s shoulders, hands on each other’s thighs, the same way they always had been, except that it seemed different, somehow, like they had settled into something steadier and more comfortable. Being here in their very own dorm, watching Jisung complain good-naturedly about how he was tired of Minho, it was painfully obvious that they weren’t play-acting at anything, that whatever they had was real. Nowadays, they were like an old married couple, as if they knew exactly what each other was thinking at all times. As if they could read each other’s minds.
Seungmin, however, could read his mind, Felix reminded himself sullenly as he stabbed at his pork, the mere idea bringing sudden color to his cheeks. How was it that Seungmin knew him so well, what he wanted, what he needed? Was Felix really that easy to read? He barely knew himself, incapable of holding onto a thought long enough to have a definitive opinion about it, as changeable and unpredictable as the wind. His face might have been splashed on glossy magazine covers and flashing billboard signs across the world, but that was all Lee Felix Yongbok of Stray Kids, and Felix himself—the one who stayed up too late to play games and tried too hard to be as cool as his other members and often went to sleep without removing his makeup—was hardly even a person.
Later on, when Jisung and Minho had gone to show Chris some new music setup Jisung had put in his bedroom, Jeongin stood beside Felix and Seungmin, helping them wash the dishes. In other words, Jeongin was just leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, watching them wash the dishes. “Do you guys think Jisung and Minho are a little too close?” he asked, out of the blue. He didn’t necessarily sound suspicious or accusing, just—curious.
Felix, who was holding the damp sponge, dropped it in the sink. “I mean,” he said, at the same time that, from beside him, Seungmin shrugged and said, “No, not really.”
“Really?” Jeongin wrinkled his nose. “Didn’t you see them today, though? They—”
“I know,” Seungmin said without looking up. He stuck another plate in the dishwasher to dry, which meant that he had to reach around Felix, which meant that Felix flinched away from him yet again. “I just wouldn’t say they’re too close. They’ve always been that way. And they’re good for each other.”
“Yeah. I get it.” They were all quiet for a while, the only sounds in the world being the drip of the faucet. Then Jeongin leaned in close, glancing over his shoulder, and murmured, “What does Chris think about it, though? Does he even know?”
“I mean, he sort of has to. It’s hard to miss.”
Before Felix could stop himself, he found himself saying, “I don’t think he’d be happy about it.”
Seungmin turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. The sink wasn’t that big, so they had been standing shoulder-to-shoulder, but now that Seungmin was facing them, it meant that their faces were far too close together, hot breath washing across his cheek. Unbidden, Felix’s gaze dropped down to Seungmin’s mouth before flickering back up, and his face suddenly felt very warm. “What makes you say that?” Seungmin was asking, his voice giving absolutely nothing away, in that practiced way of his. His eyebrow was still raised, though, meaning he had seen the way that Felix had been looking at his mouth. Shit.
It took a moment for him to answer. “Well—I, uh—” Felix floundered for the right words, his tongue too thick in his mouth. “Like, we’re all in the same group, right? And—I don’t know, it would just be messy.”
A beat passed. “I don’t know,” Seungmin said, not looking away from him. “It would be messy, maybe, but I think something real would be worth it.”
It was just then when they heard Jisung’s bedroom door open again, and Felix sprang backward, as if they had been doing something wrong, which was completely untrue, because all they had been doing was washing the dishes with Jeongin’s supervision. It wasn’t like any of them knew what he and Seungmin sometimes ended up doing in their spare time, and why would they? They didn’t even act like Jisung and Minho, who were always all over each other, making kissy faces in front of the cameras without any regard to what the rest of the world thought. They weren’t even like Hyunjin and Changbin, who called each other pet names and pretended that they were married. As far as everyone was concerned, Felix and Seungmin were just good friends, who had never fucked or even touched each other in any way.
And they were just good friends, really, because it wasn’t like they were dating, even though Seungmin knew exactly what Felix needed at all times, even though he knew exactly what to do with him, when Felix was thinking too much, even when Felix wasn’t thinking at all. Fuck, it was all just so complicated.
They stayed there in the dorm for a while longer, just talking to everyone else, before Seungmin slung his arm around Felix’s shoulders and said that they better get going. The moment they got back to their own dorm, however, Felix pressed Seungmin back against the front door, crushing their mouths together. “Fuck, baby,” Seungmin muttered, but then his hands were under Felix’s shirt, and he was touching him almost reverently, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. Like Felix was something precious. Felix didn’t like this, however—why he apparently made Seungmin so happy, he really had no idea—so he reached up, took one of Seungmin’s hands in his own, and moved it down to the front of his jeans, where he was already growing hard. “Fuck,” Seungmin said again, eyes wide, looking dazed. His pupils were dilated. “Do you—is it okay if I—”
“Yeah, I want it, come on,” Felix whispered into his mouth, letting his eyes fall shut. “Want you inside, alright?”
A pause, so quick that it was almost unnoticeable. Almost. “I—yeah, okay.”
Seungmin took him into his bedroom and laid him down on the soft sheets, chest heaving with every breath, something dark in his eyes. He climbed on top of Felix and started to kiss him again, but something was different, he wasn’t talking as much as he usually did. Felix, who was already on edge, tried to buck his hips against Seungmin’s, but they were still fully dressed, it wasn’t enough, it was just never enough. He let out a little whining sound in the back of his throat. “Please,” he rasped out. “Please, Seungmin, just—”
“Hey, it’s fine, everything’s fine,” Seungmin breathed out, leaning down to kiss him again. They stayed like this for a while, his tongue pressing deep into Felix’s mouth over and over, claiming him from the inside out. He finally pulled away to rummage in his side drawer, keeping one hand on Felix’s thigh for balance, and when he returned, it was with a bottle of lube and a condom. When Seungmin pressed one finger inside Felix, he made a sound like he was trying to catch his breath, but he was still oddly quiet, not running his mouth like he usually was.
Felix lifted his head to look at him. The angle was strange and made his neck ache, so he laid back down again, staring up at the ceiling fan, which was completely still. More to the wall than anything else, he asked without thinking, “How does it feel?”
Seungmin hesitated, his hand stilling. He looked at Felix’s face, studying his expression. Then he said, as plainly as if he had been talking about the weather, “You feel really soft on the inside.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s always like—like you’re trying to suck me inside of you. Feels really good.”
“Okay,” Felix said, trying not to blush.
Seungmin’s eyes were still fixed on his. “Okay,” he echoed, and kept moving his hand. It was making these wet sounds from where he was entering Felix, which—
“What do you think about, when you get off?”
“You mean, today?” Seungmin shook his head, laughing a little. “Where is all this coming from?” Felix really did blush that time, and said that he didn’t know, he was just wondering. Seungmin thought about it for a moment, and then twisted his wrist some more. “Well,” he said, nothing discernible in his voice, “I was thinking about fucking you.”
Felix’s mouth fell open further, and then he tried to rearrange his expression into something more neutral. Somehow, the idea of Seungmin thinking about him when he wasn’t there, especially in a sexual sense, was incomprehensible to him. “Okay,” he said again, sounding breathy, “how did you want me?”
“It was kind of boring. We were just sitting on my bed, watching a movie on my laptop, and then I leaned over and kissed you. I got on top of you, and then we fucked. I held you down when you came. That’s literally it.”
He was right, it was boring.
It was sweet.
Seungmin had pressed another finger inside Felix, and he let out a soft groan. “Do you ever think about—like, hurting me?”
That made Seungmin stop completely, pulling himself back to look Felix in the eyes. He stared at Felix’s face for a while, trying to read his expression again, in that way he always did, but Felix just trained his eyes on the ceiling, refusing to budge. When Seungmin did speak, his voice was very low, and he chose his words carefully. “Why would I think that?” Fuck, he did sound upset, though. Felix shook his head, closing his eyes so he didn't have to see his reaction.
“It was just a question,” he said.
Another pause, even longer this time. Seungmin had intertwined his fingers with Felix’s. Finally, he said, “No, I don’t.”
Even in the near-darkness behind his eyelids, the world spun at an incredible pace, making everything hazy, and Felix had to catch his breath. He didn’t know how to say that he wished Seungmin would hurt him. That he would stop being so kind to him all the time, when Felix had nothing worthwhile to give in return.
“If you want someone to hurt you, it’s not gonna be me,” Seungmin said, his voice strained. He wasn’t looking at Felix anymore. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“That wasn’t what I was saying,” Felix protested, pushing himself up on one elbow, his hand falling away from Seungmin’s. “You’re just—I thought you liked to dominate me.”
“There are multiple ways of doing that, Felix.” The fact that Seungmin sounded so calm was a testament to how angry he was. “For one, I want you to tell me what you want me to do to you. Because whatever you want really isn’t cutting it for me.” Felix opened his mouth to protest again, but Seungmin was still talking, scrubbing a hand over his face, his voice muffled. “Fuck, it’s just—I don’t think you realize how hard that is. What if I do something that you don’t like? Are you gonna tell me to stop? If you don’t even know what you like, how am I supposed to keep you safe?”
“I—”
Seungmin went quiet, just looking at him. “What?” he asked, so soft that it was almost inaudible.
Felix swallowed. “I like it when you tell me I’m being good,” he said. “Just, like, when you talk to me. And—when you call me sweetheart. Stuff like that.” He hadn’t even known it was true until he said it, but there it was.
It was—strange, almost. Felix tried not to think too much about his idol image, how the rest of the world perceived him, because he tried very hard to just be himself—but he knew what people said, sometimes. That he looked girlish, that he was pretty. Was it weird to like that in the bedroom? Was it weird if he wanted Seungmin to think that, too, while still knowing that Felix was just—well, Felix?
“You are good,” Seungmin said offhandedly, putting his hand back on Felix’s thigh, rubbing a circle there. He leaned down to kiss him again. It took a moment to fall back into it, but it was wonderful, and when Seungmin finally dragged himself away to get more lube, all he said was, “You’re a good person, Felix,” his voice very soft. So Seungmin didn’t know everything, after all.
That day, they fucked in what was possibly the most vanilla way that existed, with Felix on his back and Seungmin thrusting into him lazily, breathing hard into each other’s mouths. It might have been exactly what Seungmin had been fantasizing about earlier that day, which was to say that it was nothing extraordinary, but it still felt very good, Felix leaving deep scratches down Seungmin’s back when he came, his entire body shuddering. Then they just laid there together, kissing, hands in each other’s hair, until Seungmin pulled away to dispose of the condom. When he returned, he just sat there on the edge of the bed, gnawing at the inside of his cheek.
Felix reached for him, brushing the back of Seungmin’s hand. “What is it?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
Seungmin exhaled through his nose, and then he said, “I want you to do something for me.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I want you to tell me, like—what you think about when you’re alone. When you’re touching yourself.” Felix started to say something, but then Seungmin shook his head. “No, I want you to take your time,” he said softly. “Really think about it, okay? Then tell me whenever. But I don’t want you to say that it’s whatever I want, because it shouldn’t be. Alright?”
“Alright,” Felix muttered, not exactly sure what he was agreeing to. At the very least, his response seemed to please Seungmin, who just leaned over to kiss him again before rolling away to take a shower. Then Felix just laid there, staring up at the ceiling, watching the world blur and unblur itself before his eyes until all sound ceased to exist.
———
When Seungmin stayed late for a vocal practice, Felix figured it was time. He double-checked that his bedroom door was locked, and then he shut off all the lights so that the floorboards and walls were all washed in sudden darkness, as if a blanket had been thrown across his flushed face. It was far too quiet, but it would have to do. Felix laid himself down on his bed, wearing only his sweatpants, and twisted to set his phone down on his nightstand. Then he tried to figure out what he fantasized about when he touched himself.
It was—difficult. Felix didn’t really envision anything in particular, most of the time. Before, it was just some faceless guy or girl leaning over him, kissing him in such a way that made every thought in his mind dissipate. Nowadays he just pictured Seungmin, who had always been very good at fucking him, but it was less about what Felix wanted, and it was more about—letting Seungmin do whatever he wanted to him, really. Which was probably unhealthy, but the thought alone made Felix’s eyes flutter shut.
He let his hand wander to the waistband of his sweatpants, not touching his cock, just grazing it lightly through the fabric, but Felix could already feel himself growing hard. He thought about how Seungmin liked to leave marks across his neck, liked to suck deep bruises into the milky strip of skin between his chin and collarbone. Wanna make you mine, he’d said before, that day they’d moved into the new dorm, the memory of which made Felix whine and press down a little harder. Sometimes he really did want to be Seungmin’s, whatever that fucking meant, but it was all so ridiculous, because it was just sex between friends. He wasn’t sure why Seungmin always said sweet things like that, which twisted Felix’s insides and spilled them out across the floor for the entire world to see.
One time at the old dorm, Felix and Minho had been sitting together on the couch, watching something mindless on the television, when Seungmin had come in, his eyes very bright, raving about something that had happened in the baseball world. Minho had smiled in this amused manner and asked Seungmin to explain further, so Seungmin had taken that as an invitation to squeeze himself in between them, gesturing so wildly that he kept elbowing Felix in the ribs. “Watch it,” Felix had snapped from where he was pushed up against the armrest, still trying to watch the television—but Seungmin had suddenly given him a long, thoughtful look. Felix started to open his mouth again, trying to craft the perfect retort, but the next thing he knew, Seungmin was wrapping an arm around his waist and hauling Felix into his lap, still talking to Minho all the while, as if this was just normal, which it obviously wasn’t. Seungmin shouldn’t have just been able to pick up Felix and put him wherever he wanted.
The thing was that, in a strange way, it probably was normal. Within the band, everyone was always just sprawling across each other’s laps, resting their heads on each other’s shoulders, which wasn’t weird. Felix had always been a touchy person, and he was comfortable with the other members. Of course he was going to lean on Hyunjin or Changbin when he was tired, or even just because he felt like it.
At the same time, though, Seungmin had never dragged Felix into his lap like that until then, and certainly never with that unexpected display of strength, like Felix hadn’t weighed anything. It was one of the first times Felix had realized how built Seungmin had gotten recently.
In his bedroom, it was so quiet that every breath seemed to echo from each wall. Chest rising and falling too quickly, Felix finally let his hand drift below his waistband, shoving his face into his pillow to muffle any sounds, even though he was the only one home. Desperately, he tried to think about Seungmin’s hands, Seungmin’s strong arms, something ordinary, like whatever normal people got off to, but instead his mind immediately flashed to how Seungmin had picked him up with ease that day, how Seungmin could probably throw him around now. Rough him up a little. Make him feel it.
A sudden flush came over his face, and Felix groaned, his hand stilling again. Fuck, this was ridiculous. Seungmin wouldn’t hurt him, he made that much clear, and it wasn’t like Felix really wanted to be hurt, anyway. Probably. Fantasizing about this was just a waste of time.
It was kind of hot, though.
Unbidden, a hazy image sprang to his mind: Seungmin pushing him back against the couch, smirking in that infuriatingly smug way he did when he knew he was winning, pinning Felix’s arms down against his sides as he thrashed and telling him don’t you dare move unless I tell you to, sweetheart. He would undress Felix meticulously, hands never shaking, but then he would press gentle kisses across his face, too, because Seungmin liked that sort of thing, he liked it when Felix felt good. Then Seungmin would lean down, take Felix’s leaking cock in his hand, and whisper in his ear, hot breath washing across his cheek, Don’t really need this, baby, if you’re just gonna lie down and take it all the time—
Felix gasped and twisted his wrist, grinding his teeth together to hold in his moan. Seungmin wouldn’t say that, he reminded himself, there would be no world in which Seungmin would ever say that to him, but—
The real Seungmin would never mock him in bed, but that was just what Felix pictured now, Seungmin laughing as Felix tried to keep his legs together. This is mine, he said in a very low voice, I thought I told you not to move, I don’t know why you would try to hide from me, and then he would push a finger inside, nudging against the spot that made Felix’s vision turn white. He wouldn’t care if it was too much, if Felix already came, splattering across his stomach and getting it all over the cushions. He would just do whatever he pleased.
Then he got on the couch with Felix, too, and moved one of Felix’s legs over the back of the couch so that he could fuck him deeper, and then when Seungmin was thrusting hard inside him, making the couch hinges squeak with every movement, and he would lean down and press another finger to Felix’s entrance, hearing his startled moan, and then Seungmin murmured as if in awe, your cunt is so wet and pink, just like your pretty mouth—
Felix cried out as he came, moving his arm so fast that it hurt, the blackness of his room consuming him until it felt that he was falling through the floor, that he was hitting the ground at such a force that the thin and delicate bones inside his invisible wings shattered, that he would never recover again. For a long time afterward, he just laid there, panting and staring up at the darkened ceiling, which was so shadowy that his eyes might as well have been closed. He knew, then, what he wished he didn’t, a sudden knowledge that he would never be able to reverse: that there was a deep void inside him that called for danger, to be hurt, and he didn’t know the first thing about how to satiate it.
———
It was only after an evening out that it happened. Everyone had gone out to celebrate the birthday of one of their staff members, and so Felix was pleasantly tipsy in the car, leaning on Seungmin’s shoulder. Faint light from Seungmin’s phone screen washed across their faces, giving a fantastical quality to the night as the world rolled past the windows. It was just the two of them in the car, besides the driver, but just them, they might have been the only two people in the universe. “It’s good, because the bases are loaded,” Seungmin was saying, his free hand stroking an absentminded circle on Felix’s thigh. He had been checking the baseball score all night. “We just need a hit.”
“Mmm.” Felix let his eyes flutter shut. Seungmin was wearing a different cologne that evening, something fancier for the dinner, and it smelled good. “That’s cool.”
A little laugh. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“What gave it away?” Felix said dryly. Seungmin just laughed again, shutting off his phone, enveloping them in near-blackness once more.
It had been a good night, and it was obvious that they would fall into bed together afterward. A warm, liquid fire bubbling underneath his skin, Felix turned his face into Seungmin’s neck, kissing him there once. Seungmin released a breath like he’d been holding it for a while—his hand flew up to the back of Felix’s neck, and he squeezed him there lightly, a gentle warning—but he was smiling, a fond look on his face, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Later,” was all he said. In his slacks and white button-down, he looked really nice. Like they’d just been on a date and they were coming home together.
It was easy to pretend.
The driver dropped them off in front of their dorm; Seungmin held out his hand to help Felix out of the car. They didn’t kiss, not right away. In fact, they went through their entire nightly routine, washing their faces and brushing their teeth, so that by the time Felix came to Seungmin’s door, they were both only in their sweatpants. “Hey,” Seungmin said in the doorway, smiling at him again. The lights were off and it was very dim, but the look in his eyes was soft. “You look nice.”
Felix squinted. “Okay,” was all he could think to say. Seungmin had said the same thing to him over dinner, had pressed his burning mouth right up against Felix’s ear to whisper it as he had reached for his wine glass, but it wasn’t like he looked like anything special now, hair still damp and dripping onto his shoulders.
“Okay,” Seungmin echoed, seemingly amused. Then he lifted a hand to Felix’s face and kissed him. It felt different, like Seungmin was trying to tell him something, but if they were having some sort of conversation, it wasn’t in a language that Felix could understand. He just put his hands on Seungmin’s hips and kissed him back, drowning in the clean scent of his shampoo, the feel of their bodies pressing together.
After some time, Seungmin pulled back and asked him in a low voice what he wanted. Felix pressed his face back into Seungmin’s neck, breathing hard. “I—” It sounded stupid, now that he was thinking about it. But Seungmin was here and he was touching Felix like he was amazed by his presence, the way someone might be stunned into silence by a beautiful sculpture, but he wasn’t going to move again until Felix told him what he wanted. “Do you ever get turned on by the fact that I look—like, feminine?”
Seungmin inhaled sharply, just once. There was a long pause. “Yeah,” he said at last. Then, “I don’t know why.”
It was strange to have this conversation without looking right at each other, but Felix couldn’t bring himself to even glance at Seungmin, afraid of what his expression might be. He swallowed. “I like that it turns you on,” he said. “Like it when you—talk to me.”
That part, he didn’t need to explain. Seungmin already knew.
They started kissing again, but not for long. Without separating their mouths, Seungmin pushed Felix back onto his sheets, but then he just stood there by the bed for a few moments, gazing down at him, biting at the inside of his cheek. The look in his eyes was very dark. Felix lifted his head and asked him what was the matter, but Seungmin just shook his head without saying anything, and the moment passed. Instead he knelt down, dragging down Felix’s sweatpants, and without much fanfare, he buried his face between Felix’s legs.
Felix jolted, as if he had been electrocuted. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “Jesus Christ, Seungmin.” By then they’d done a lot of things together, but Seungmin had never eaten him out before.
Seungmin pulled away, blinking up at him, slinging an arm across Felix’s hips to keep him pinned down to the bed. “I can feel you getting all wet,” he said plainly, which was true, because Felix’s cock was already leaking again, but it sounded like—it was like—
“Oh my God,” Felix hissed between his teeth, shutting his eyes hard. He thought that he might vibrate out of his skin. “Please, just fuck me, come on.”
“Be patient, alright?” Seungmin leaned down again, and when Felix came the first time, it was with Seungmin holding him down, arms straining to keep him back against the bed, eyes blown wide as he watched Felix come apart before him. When he started to move away, Felix grabbed his wrist and asked him where he was going, his voice hoarse. “Uh,” Seungmin said, and he sounded oddly nervous. “Do you still want me to fuck you?”
“I told you to, didn’t I?”
“Okay, but was that—good? Did you like that?”
“Yeah,” Felix whimpered. He was still so turned on that he couldn’t see straight. Blindly, he grasped for Seungmin’s hand, his fingers sliding down from Seungmin’s wrist, searching for comfort, something like that. “I’m so wet for you, come on, I need you.”
Seungmin hesitated, and then he nodded, just once, so curt that it was almost imperceptible. “I will,” he said, his voice very quiet. He pressed a kiss to Felix’s forehead, which didn’t seem very necessary, but it seemed to make him feel better. “Can you scoot up farther on the bed for me?” Felix moved, and Seungmin got on top of him, pushing their mouths together with a sudden urgency that made Felix’s head spin, his warm tongue pressing suddenly between his lips. It was so good. It was exactly what he needed. “Taste yourself, sweetheart,” Seungmin panted into his mouth, and when Felix made a whining sound in the back of his throat, he paused and then said, his voice shaking a little, “Can you taste your pussy?”
For a moment, Felix couldn’t hear anything except for the blood rushing in his ears. He stared at Seungmin, wide-eyed, but Seungmin just looked flushed, heat crawling up the side of his neck. “I—” Felix tried, and then he just said, “I can, yeah.” Seungmin hummed in this distracted way and said that was good, he was glad. They stared at each other for another moment, and then Seungmin cleared his throat, turning his face away, reaching over to grab the lube from his drawer. When he returned, he pressed a slick finger inside of Felix, filling him up, listening to Felix’s weak whines. He didn’t say much of anything at first, not until Felix was crying out, telling Seungmin to fuck me already, fuck me , I mean it. Then Seungmin was rolling on a condom, pushing inside, and—
They both moaned, almost in surprise. “Shit,” Seungmin groaned. “Your cunt is so tight.”
Felix saw white. He might’ve been coming, he didn’t know. “Please,” he heard himself say in English, more of a breath than actual words, “ please, please, Seungmin, oh my God.”
“I like it when you say my name,” Seungmin said suddenly. There was a strange look on his face, his cheeks still flushed pink. “When we’re fucking, I mean. It’s—shit, I just—I don’t want you to fuck anyone else.”
“Okay,” Felix whimpered. He didn’t really know what Seungmin was saying, even though it sounded important. He didn’t know anything. “ Okay, I won’t, just—”
“Fuck, sorry. I—okay.” Then Seungmin was moving again, pulling back to thrust right back into him, and the rest of the world fell away until there was just this, only this, Felix’s fingers grasping against the soft bedsheets, Seungmin grunting into his ear, fucking hard into Felix like he couldn’t help it. These wet, filthy squelching sounds filled the room, and with his final coherent thoughts, Felix thanked God that they lived on their own now, that they didn’t have to try and be quiet.
When he was close again, Seungmin reached up, grasped Felix’s cock in his hand, brushing his thumb lightly over the head, and breathed out that he wanted Felix to come for him, to be his good girl. That was what finally did Felix in, and when he came again, it was like there were waves crashing over his head, keeping from the shore. His body thrashed and trembled, small mouth opening and circle in a shaky circle. It seemed to last forever, time stretching out in its infinite power, until nothing was real, and everything was happening all at once.
He felt at once, with absolute certainty, that his body wasn’t his own.
This might’ve lasted for seconds, minutes, years. The next thing he knew, Seungmin was leaning over him, eyes very wide, shaking Felix’s arm. “Fuck,” he hissed when Felix finally blinked up at him, outlines becoming real shapes and objects once again, “ fuck, Felix, don’t do that, what the hell?” He sounded—upset. Close to tears. Felix tried to sit up, but his arms were shaking. He laid back down instead, blinked a few more times. Seungmin still looked rather upset, his face flushed, holding up a hand over his eyes.
“Don’t—” Felix’s mouth felt very dry, and he coughed a little. “Don’t do what?”
“You wouldn’t answer me! I thought you weren’t breathing, the fuck? You can’t—I don’t—”
Seungmin was fumbling for the right words to say, switching between Korean and English, as if that might help Felix better understand. Felix just stared at him, mouth slightly open, unsure of what to say. His head felt fuzzy, his vision was still somewhat askew. He didn’t really know what had happened, except that it had felt very good, but that it had scared Seungmin in a way he’d never seen before.
“I’m okay,” he heard himself say. Seungmin just looked at him, breathing hard. Felix lifted his hand, let it rest on Seungmin’s shoulder. “I’m okay,” he tried again, “we’re okay, I don’t know what happened, but—”
“Fuck,” Seungmin snapped again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ, Felix.” Felix shut his mouth so quickly that his jaw hurt. Everything was quiet for a moment, the only sound in the world being their heavy breaths, the blare of a sudden car horn as someone drove past the window. Then Seungmin exhaled and said, “Fuck, I need to hold you,” so he laid back down beside Felix, turning him onto his side and wrapping a heavy arm around his middle. His face was pressed into the back of Felix’s neck, and he was holding him very tightly. But not tight enough.
“Can you—” Felix sounded miserable to his own ears. He shifted backwards a little, pressing himself closer to Seungmin. “Can you hold me tighter?”
Seungmin made a muffled sound of affirmation, which was buried into Felix’s skin. He squeezed Felix a little tighter. Felix said nothing, just stared out at the opposite wall, a faraway look in his eyes. There was a long pause. Then Seungmin squeezed him even harder, so hard that it hurt a little, crushing Felix’s ribs together. Felix opened his mouth, waiting for the word stop to form on his tongue, but it never did. He found that he liked the sting. “Thanks,” was all he whispered, letting his eyes flutter shut.
From beside him, he thought he might’ve heard Seungmin whisper something back, but by then it was too late. Felix’s eyelids became very heavy—he turned his face further into his pillow—and when he went to sleep, all that surrounded him was darkness—
In the morning, though, Seungmin was still there, right where he’d left him, snoring lightly into Felix’s neck, one arm slung loosely over his middle. They had never woken up together before, had never spent the whole night with one another. Felix blinked up at the ceiling for a long time, waiting for some fearful or guilty feeling to arise in him, but instead there was just a strange warmth that pooled in the center of his gut, like hope that was given to him as a gift. It felt—nice, actually, to have Seungmin hold him like this, just because he’d wanted to.
The warmth spread to his face, and he bit the inside of his cheek. From outside the window, golden sunlight slanted in through the blinds, casting slivers of magnificent color across the floorboards. Why not, he thought to himself suddenly, why not keep the fire burning, why not let it linger, why not let it stay. So he turned around, buried his face in Seungmin’s soft hair, and let himself fall back asleep.