Archive of Our Own

Chris was always around when Felix was a kid, here and there, doing odd jobs for Felix's parents. Before Felix was old enough to mow or rake leaves, it was Chris who would do the tasks. Before Felix was able to climb the ladders and clean the debris from the gutters, it was Chris who would get it done. Before Felix was allowed on the roof, it was even Chris who would put up their Christmas lights. Felix would watch with wide eyes, someone who looked so tall and strong and adult. He didn't know what a crush was then, only figured it out with the context of adolescence, and by that time, Chris had moved into the city, far from their little neighborhood in the suburbs.

But when Felix struggles with biology in the second semester of his first year of university, it is of course Chris, a pharmacologist who works a big fancy job for big fancy money, who his mom calls for help.

"This is so embarrassing," Felix whispers, watching from the window as Chris meanders down the walk towards the door. "How could you do this to me?"

"Oh, don't be like that," she says. "He was excited to hear from me. He said he would be happy to do it."

"He's a nice guy. He was being nice. He doesn't actually want to do it." He slaps a hand to his face, trying to hide. "God, I wish I was dead."

"Felix, stop it, I've told you not to say stuff like that," she says, swinging the door open and pulling Chris into an embrace. "Oh my God, honey, it's so good to see you again!"

"You too, you too!" Chris says enthusiastically, hugging her like he would hug his own mother, eyes shut tight with affection. When he pulls back, he looks at Felix, smiles. "Hey, D. It's been a minute."

D, Felix thinks, stomach turning with equal parts familiar warmth and shuddering embarrassment. Why did you have to call me that? Why did you have to remember?

"Uh, yeah," Felix says, trying to laugh. "Um."

"Oh, sorry," Chris laughs. "You're probably too old for that now, huh?"

Felix shrugs, trying to shove down the way it makes him feel. D was the shorthand of a nickname that their parents had given Felix in his youth, Duckie—Duckie, for the way he followed after Chris everywhere he went. Shame backhands him.

"Well, I'll get out of your hair and leave you to it," his mom says. She takes her purse from the hook by the door. "I'm headed out, but if you need anything, just give me a call."

"Nice, a quiet environment," Chris smiles, "you're doing us a favor."

"That's what I told him!" she smiles, and she presses a kiss to Chris's cheek. "Thanks again, honey. I really appreciate it."

"Hey, what's family for?" Chris says. They watch her go, and Chris gives her a wave on the way out before closing the front door. He turns to Felix again, smiling. "Should we go to your room and get started?"

Felix leads Chris into his bedroom, and he tries not to feel too pulled apart by the way Chris looks around, observing.

"Looks a lot different than I remember it," Chris says, looking over the new posters, the prints.

"Yeah."

He looks at Felix wryly. "You're still a little messy, huh?"

"I actually cleaned," Felix says, "before you came."

"This is clean?"

Felix shrugs as Chris pokes and prods, comments, asking him questions, trying to catch up. Felix keeps his answers to a minimum as they sit down at his desk: unpacking Felix's bag, opening Felix's textbook, beginning to flip through Felix's notes. Chris scoots in too close, and Felix can smell his cologne, soft but masculine and spicy. He rubs at his nose, leans away. If he smells him too much, his mind may wander, and if his mind wanders, he might pop a boner at any little thing Chris says or does.

Chris is diligent, focused. He is genuinely a very good teacher. Felix is just an exceptionally poor student, given the circumstances. Whenever Chris gets close to him, Felix can feel the heat of his body. Whenever Chris looks into his eyes as if to really make a concept sink in, all Felix can think of is touching him. And whenever Chris reaches out, touches Felix on the knee or the shoulder, Felix cannot keep his eyes from Chris's mouth. His full lips, pink and sweet.

What would it be like to kiss you, he wonders. What kind of sounds do you make when you feel good? What do you look like without your clothes? What would it feel like to suck you off or fuck you or be fucked by you?

"Good!" Chris says enthusiastically, ruffling Felix's hair when he demonstrates fledgling competency of the structure of prokaryotes. "Good boy."

He didn't know it was a switch for him, but God does it turn him on.

As soon as the words escape Chris's perfect mouth, his hand in Felix's hair, Felix gets so fucking hard— couldn't stop it even if he tried—and the resulting panic sets in. He shifts away from Chris, crossing one leg over the other like that might help. He bites the inside of his lip, realizing that if he has to stand, has to push away from the desk, he will surely be outed. Chris will see every inch of it shadowing through his sweats, poking out ridiculously.

"We're making good progress. We can come back to the stuff with eukaryotes," Chris says. "Maybe after a little break."

"Y-Yeah," Felix says. "Sure, maybe."

"I'm gonna head to the bathroom," Chris says. "I think your mom said there was iced tea in the fridge if you wanted to get a drink."

"I'm, uh, I'm good."

"Okay," Chris says. "Be right back."

Felix watches him go and as soon as Chris is out of the room, he hurriedly shoves away from the desk to pull up his shirt and reach down to flip his dick up against his stomach, held in place by the elastic of his underwear and his sweatpants. He licks his lips nervously as he drags his shirt back down over the residual evidence of his arousal. He turns, looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn't think Chris will be able to tell. At least, he hopes not.

Chris comes back not too long after, sitting back down and shutting Felix's book.

"We're not gonna study anymore?" Felix asks in confusion.

"We will, just... we've been at it for long enough," Chris says. "Sometimes you need a brain break."

Felix nods, half-wishing they could get back to it just so he could distract himself with boring bullshit. He does not dare look at Chris, not as he leans back in his chair, not as he crosses his arms over his chest, and not as he watches Felix awfully deliberately.

"So," Chris says, "what's new with you, seriously? You were being so weird earlier."

"I was not."

"You were," Chris says.

"There's nothing new with me," Felix says. "My life is boring."

"You're young, you should be doing all kinds of exciting things."

"Well, I'm not," Felix says.

Chris takes a beat before saying, "School's good?"

"School's fine," he says.

"Are you gonna keep holding me at arm's length?" Chris laughs.

"I'm not."

"Then—what about parties?"

He laughs. "I don't go to parties."

"Girls?"

Felix's heart falls in his body. "What about them?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No," Felix says flatly.

"Come on."

"I'm serious."

"Not even one?"

"No," Felix says. "Not even one."

"Seriously? You? No girls?"

A part of him wants to press—what's that supposed to mean? You? Do you think—Do you think they should be falling all over me? Throwing themselves at me? Is it because you think I'm pretty? Do you want me the way I want you? The way I've wanted you for years? But he's too much of a coward, nineteen years old with an erection against his belly, hiding from his childhood crush, and he shoves those questions away along with everything else he hides.

"No," Felix says. "Anyway, we should get back to the studying stuff."

"Aw, come on," Chris says, a tease in his tone. "You don't want advice from someone older and wiser?"

"It's not that."

"What is it, then?"

"It's just—It's awkward," Felix says. "Talking about stuff like that with you."

"Why?"

"Well, it's just—I mean, you know."

"I don't," Chris says. "Explain it to me."

"Just, like, you're kind of like my... my brother," Felix finishes, and the way Chris looks at him makes his whole body go tense.

"Oh yeah?"

"Y-Yeah," Felix says, the heat beginning to flood where it should not flood, a wet sort of pleasure drenching over his lower half. "Sort of."

Chris says nothing, but he looks down Felix's body like he can tell, like he can see through Felix's clothes and he can see his dick tucked up against the band of his sweats. Felix swallows—it's almost like Chris's gaze becomes a physical touch, stroking up and down Felix's arms, abdomen, legs.

Felix licks his lips, and Chris watches him.

"What?" Chris asks. "Why are you looking at me like that, huh?"

It is the first time he's ever been pushed. How could anyone expect him not to fall?

"I-I don't know."

"You look like you wanna say something," Chris says, and he leans in ever so slightly. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Y-Yeah," Felix says. "I know."

"You can confide in me."

There is only this one chance. If he does not do it now, maybe he never will. And maybe this is a test. You won't, he remembers Chris saying, daring Felix to throw himself back into a childish wrestling match, a game Felix would never, ever win. You won't.

Yes, he thinks. I will.

All at once, Felix throws himself at Chris, kissing him as best he knows how. Chris is still at first, but once Felix shyly touches his face, Chris's hands go to Felix's waist, the small of his back, pulling him nearer. Felix moans as he hurriedly, clumsily straddles him in his chair, sitting right on Chris's lap as he licks into his mouth, kissing him deep and slow. And Chris kisses him back after a moment, his tongue against Felix's. It is so sickeningly hot that Felix groans, makes Chris swallow that as he pulls away.

He is a little ashamed when Chris looks at him, wondering what happens now. Where they go from here. His mind could take him a million places, but what about Chris?

"Wow," Chris finally says, cheeks painting pink.

"Yeah."

Chris is quiet, and he looks between their bodies for a moment before looking back up into Felix's eyes.

"Brothers don't usually do things like that, do they?" Chris says.

"N-Not usually."

"So I'm not really like your brother, am I?"

"No," he says weakly. "Not really."

Chris smiles as he kisses him again, gingerly lifting them both up from the chair. Felix groans as Chris holds him by the thighs, and he feels it as Chris hardens against him. It is profoundly hot, knowing that he was the one to do that to him, and he chokes on his own sound of need as Chris then lowers him to his feet.

He turns from Felix, and Felix wonders if this is when the denial begins. If this is when Chris builds the brick wall between them.

But all Chris does is walk over to Felix's bed—about as neatly made as it ever has been or ever will be—and sit down on the edge, spreading his legs wide.

"Come here," Chris says, and Felix's heart hums beneath his skin.

He approaches, slow, one foot in front of the other, and Chris leans back on the bed, one hand behind him. He looks so incredibly casual, like he does this kind of thing all the time, and Felix wonders how many people he's been with. How many beds he's laid in, how many nights have been spent like this. A frantic spit of jealousy stabs through Felix, end to end, and it roasts him miserably.

"What's that face for, huh?"

"Shut up," Felix says.

"I know you better than you think," Chris says. "I can always tell when you're mad."

Finally, Felix arrives, standing there between Chris's knees, staring down at him. Even from this position, it does not feel like Felix has any power over him or, at least, no meaningful power. Chris stares up at him, brows raised and expectant, but his eyes are so dark. They hold Felix right there. Right where he stands.

"How can you tell?" he wonders.

Chris moves his hand. One finger brushes between Felix's brows.

"Here," Chris says, "you always furrow your brows."

That deft finger runs down the bridge of Felix's nose.

"And you always scrunch up your nose," Chris continues. "Just like that."

Finally, along his lips—

"And you would always bite your lip," Chris says softly. "And breathe real slow like you were trying to calm yourself down."

"I didn't realize you were watching me so closely."

"Me neither," Chris says. "Not 'til right now."

Felix can barely get enough air in his lungs as Chris touches his face, his palm cradling Felix's hot cheek. A thousand questions move through him. What if he isn't good at whatever it is they're about to do? What if Chris decides he isn't worth the trouble? Chris has his own place, has his independence. Chris is handsome, has a good job, makes good money. Chris could get anyone he wanted, couldn't he?

What on Earth would he ever want with a virgin like Felix?

"You know," he confesses nervously, "I—I've never—"

"That's okay," Chris says, and his hand slips down, taking Felix's in his. "As long as you listen, as long as you're good for me—I'll teach you everything."

Felix could come right then and there, the sound of his voice and the look in his eye, and he squeezes his thighs together to keep the wave from cresting.

"Oh," Chris smiles. "You like that, huh?"

"Y-Yeah," he breathes. "I do."

Chris's expression is dark and lovely, and he drags Felix in, arms encircling him, chin against Felix's abdomen as he looks up.

"You want to be a good boy for me?"

"Yes," he says desperately, "please."

"All right, then," Chris says, and he guides Felix down. "Get on your knees."

Felix sinks there wordlessly, his mouth opening as he watches Chris pop the button of his jeans unzipping one hand. It is ridiculously hot, every single thing he does, and Felix's mouth goes wet as he watches him pull his underwear down. It is the first time he's ever seen Chris like this anywhere other than his dreams, and it boils his blood. It's the first time he's ever been on the precipice of something so new and enticing, and it's with Chris. It's the first time he's seen Chris look anything other than completely put-together, and it feels like a dream as he watches Chris stroke his cock to full hardness.

"Will you suck it for me?" Chris asks.

"Yes," he says.

"Yeah? You wanna?"

"Yes," he says, and he puts his hands on Chris's thighs, moving closer to him. "Please."

"Oh, you must really want it," he says. "Finally, some manners." He swallows, hand still moving over his dick. "You've never done this before, have you?"

"No," he confesses. "I'm—"

"That's so fucking hot," Chris whispers, almost like it wasn't meant to be said aloud. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek as he runs his thumb against Felix's lower lip. "Open for me."

Felix opens, and Chris sinks his thumb inside. Immediately, Felix closes his lips around it, sucking it eagerly, his tongue channeling around the short length.

"Just like that," Chris whispers, "good boy. Slow like that." Felix closes his eyes and moans, pliant, the flat of his tongue licking against Chris's hand where his finger ends and his palm begins. "Fuck, yeah, I want you to do it just like that, okay?"

Chris pulls his thumb out with a wet pop, and Felix breathes hard as Chris scoots closer to him, his hand wrapped around the base of his dick.

"If you decide you wanna stop, just stop," Chris says. "Don't bite or anything, okay?"

"I won't," Felix says quickly. "I swear."

Chris wears a tenuous smile that pulls apart as Felix parts his lips, taking the head of Chris's dick into his mouth. Chris moans as soon as he feels Felix's tongue against him, and Felix lowers his head, trying to take in as much as he possibly can right from the start. He gags hard with Chris's dick in his throat, and he is filled with immediate terror, thinking he's about to throw up all over him.

"Oh my God," Chris says, all but yanking Felix back by the hair, Felix gasping for air. "What are you doing? What did I just tell you? "

"I-I just... I wanna be good at it," Felix says. "I want it to be good for you."

"You're on your knees, sucking my dick," Chris says. "It's really fucking good, I promise." Felix's abdomen clenches while Chris cards his fingers through Felix's hair, scratching his nails against Felix's scalp. "Be good, all right? Just like how I said. Nice and easy, okay?"

"Okay," Felix agrees, closing his eyes and going back down.

He keeps Chris's words in the forefront of his mind, focusing on nice and easy. He loses himself in it. He goes slow at first, working himself into a steady rhythm as he bobs his head, sucking just as much as he can easily fit in his mouth. And that, apparently, is more than enough. He opens his eyes, looking up at Chris from his knees, his eyes watering. And Chris is staring at him, mouth hanging open hotly.

"Jesus Christ," Chris moans. "Fuck, yeah, Felix. Feels so fucking good."

Felix squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting against nothing and bucking his hips. He keeps on going, spurred on by Chris's reaction, by the steady stream of encouragement. It sinks into his skin, all of it, every word, and he pulls off, stroking Chris's cock before licking and sucking at the tip, watching the way Chris's balls pull up and tense. He bends down lowly, tonguing against them, and Chris takes him by the shoulder, squeezing hard.

"Shit, Felix," he laughs. "Fuck, are you trying to kill me?"

"Sort of," Felix smiles.

There is a look of undeniable fondness, and that cuts through some of the lust, reminds him that it is not just about that, but about so much more, altogether and braided.

"C'mere," he says. "I want to kiss you more."

Felix stands up and climbs onto him, straddling him once more. Chris has one hand on the small of Felix's back, the other sneaking underneath the curtain of Felix's hair on the nape of his neck, supporting him and holding him firmly. They kiss like that, beautiful and long and lush, like everything he's pictured and more. It is surprising, then, when Chris rolls him onto his back, begins kissing along his throat.

His hands are possessive over Felix's body, over the swallow of his oversized clothing, and there is no more hiding behind them, especially not as Chris strokes his hand low over Felix's dick.

"How long were you hiding this?" Chris asks.

"B-Basically since you got here," Felix says, and his throat feels tight as Chris kisses his neck. "Fu—Chris."

"You should have just told me you wanted it," Chris says. "You know I'll always take care of you."

How long could I have gotten this, he wonders. Would he have let me have it on my eighteenth birthday, or would he have made me wait just to give himself some plausible deniability? Was it even a thought in his mind? Did he consider it? It sticks hotly in his skin, imagining Chris imagining him, but he doesn't push the issue. Guilt is a funny thing, and the last thing Felix wants or needs is for Chris to suddenly decide it's a little too strange for him to be kissing down Felix's body, peeling away each layer of clothing with deftness and skill.

The first brush of Chris's tongue over his nipple is electrifying and strange. It's not like Felix had never touched himself there—maybe that's the difference, he thinks, moving his hand through Chris's hair. Because it's someone else. Because it's him.

He sucks hard at Felix's right nipple as he pinches and pulls and runs his fingertips over the left, and Felix groans as he begins biting at it. He angles his hips, humps against Chris's leg thoughtlessly, acting only on instinct. He's no better than a dog, but then, it all slots together, doesn't it? Chris will be the one to train him.

"You like that?" Chris asks, lips shining with saliva.

"Y-Yeah."

"It'll leave a mark if I suck it any longer," he tells him.

"I don't care."

"No?"

"No."

"You'll let me?"

"You—You can do anything you want to me," Felix tells him.

"You can't say that kind of thing to people," Chris says. "You don't know what they'll wanna do."

"I'm not saying it to anyone. I'm saying it to you."

Chris groans, and he rests his forehead against Felix's chest.

"Why are you like this?" Chris laughs.

"B-Because I like you," Felix answers, and Chris huffs, pressing a kiss to his stomach. "I love you."

"Don't say stuff like that, please."

Obstinacy rises up in him like a hot fire exposed to sudden air. "Why not?"

"Because then I'll rush," Chris says. "And I'm not planning on rushing."

If there were arguments to be had, he can't find them.

"Y-You're gonna take your time with me?"

"Yeah," Chris says, and his voice is so deep and gentle. "I'd like to." He licks his lips as he raises his eyes to meet Felix's. "What do you think? Are we moving too fast?" He is full of light, the light that drew Felix to him in the first place. "You're not scared, right?"

"No," Felix answers. "I'm not scared."

"It would be okay if you were," Chris says. "It would be—I would understand."

"I'm not," Felix reiterates. "I've—I've pictured it so many times, I'm not anything other than excited."

Chris groans, and he lets his head rest against Felix's stomach again.

"Don't," Chris laughs.

"Why not?"

"Because," Chris says, and he takes Felix's hand in his, pulling it low. Against his dick. "If you say stuff like that, I'm only gonna be thinking with this."

"What are you thinking?" Felix asks, stomach churning with warmth. "What do you want to do with me?"

"I want to give you head," Chris says. "I want to eat you out. Finger you until you're about to come."

"O-Oh, fuck."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Felix says, and he strokes his hand against Chris's cock. "A-And then?"

"And then," Chris whispers, "I want to fuck you."

"C-Chris," he whines. "Please."

"Yeah? You want it too?"

It's all I want, he thinks.

"Yes," Felix whispers, and before he can stop himself, "I—That's all I want."

Chris's throat rolls.

"You have lube?" Chris asks.

"Yes," Felix confesses, scalding with shame.

Chris smiles. "Dirty."

"W-Well, I'm—It was—You—God, you really are annoying, you know that?" he stutters and grouses, slapping a hand over his face.

Chris shifts back up the bed long enough to pull Felix's hand away, kissing him until Felix forgets what they were even talking about in the first place.

"It's hot," Chris tells him. "And you look really, really beautiful right now."

For some silly reason, that affects him worst of all, and he whimpers as Chris stares at him, refusing to look away. Pinning him there with his gaze.

"I've always liked you, Felix," Chris says. "I always, always liked you in some way or another.."

Never could he have anticipated that his dreams would be realized. Or in such resounding fashion. Sparks crush through him, and he tries to hide.

"D-Don't," Felix says, shifting beneath him. "Don't say stuff like that."

"Why?" Chris whispers. "Why should I stop?"

"B-Because," he says. "I can't—It's... I'm getting too hot."

"Maybe we should get these clothes off then." He dots a kiss to Felix's lips. "Is that okay?"

Felix nods, and he sits up on the bed so that Chris can pull his shirt up and off. Chris ditches his own, and Felix can't look away from his body, the cut of his chest, his arms, his abdomen. Chris lays him back down to pull his sweats and briefs off in one go, and then he is there naked before him. Chris kicks out of his jeans, shoving his underwear down his legs before he toes them off the edge of the bed.

And then there they are. Just the two of them. And he's been with Chris a million times, but never like this.

"Can I do what I want?" Chris asks. "Will you let me?"

"A-Anything," Felix says

"C'mere," he says again, and he gathers Felix in his arms.

Felix moans as Chris kisses him, along his collarbones and his breastbone. His nipples and the small amount of muscle at his pectorals. He looks down, aroused to find that, just as Chris said, his nipples have begun to bruise.

"C-Chris," he whispers. "Oh my God."

"You like it?" Chris asks, continuing to slip down Felix's body, the pressure and heat of his skin intoxicating. "You don't mind the marks?"

"N-No," Felix says. "I like them."

"Then this is how I'll show everyone," Chris whispers, biting Felix's skin and leaving his mark. "Everyone who touches you will know that you've been with me. Everyone who sees will know that you're mine."

Felix's spine arches lewdly as Chris covers him in kisses, in bruising bites. There is no one for him but Chris, and he would never dream about lying like this with anyone but him. If he could make any other sounds besides those of ecstasy, maybe he could tell him that, but he is too overcome by the vividness, the viciousness, the visceral sex as it pours through him.

Chris spreads his thighs after he's littered him with reddening bruises, settling between Felix's legs. He commits the picture to memory, burns it into his retinas just in case he never gets it again. Chris curls a hand around his cock, and Felix almost comes, curling his toes as Chris closes his lips around him. It is like nothing he's ever experienced, almost like he's being devoured, and he clings to the muscles of Chris's shoulders and back as he tries not to come, the most arduously hot forty seconds of his life. Then, Chris sucks him all the way down, his nose brushing against Felix's pubic hair.

Wildfire spreads across Felix's skin, and he slaps at Chris's shoulder, kicking his heels into the bed as the pleasure threatens to pour over. Chris pulls off wetly, breathing out hard, and Felix stares at him as he grins.

"Good?" Chris asks.

"Y-Yeah."

"First time?"

"Yes," he says breathlessly. "B-But you deep-throated me."

"Well, you did too," Chris says. "Figure that if you were willing to gag on it, so should I."

"But you didn't gag."

Chris smiles. "I've worked on it." Felix's face burns as he imagines Chris going down on other people. "Oh, don't look at me like that."

"I'm not."

"You reap the rewards of my practice." He gives Felix's cock a spit-slick stroke, and Felix's dick flexes. "Good boy. Look at you, holding it back."

"B-Barely," Felix says. "F-Fuck."

"Let's try something else, then," Chris says. "A distraction."

He moves down lower, and his back moves and rolls like an animal, a predator. Felix closes his eyes, and it is a mistake. It comes as a real surprise when he feels Chris's mouth against him, against his hole. He's touched himself out of curiosity, never with real intention, and now—

"F-Fuck, Chris!" he shrieks. "Oh my God."

Chris licks into him, tongues over him, uses the point of his tongue to tease at Felix's rim. It feels so fucking good that Felix has to reach down and squeeze at his balls to hold back his orgasm, close to ripping right through him. He feels himself clenching around nothing, and it hits him then that Chris means what he said. He'll fuck Felix right then and there, as long as Felix wants it.

Delirious, turned on, horny beyond words, he reaches down, pulling Chris in by the hair. He moves himself against Chris, takes it like he's hungry for it. He groans as the heat splashes along him, red and pounding like a heartbeat, and he squeezes his legs around Chris as he sucks at his hole.

"C-Chris, oh my God, Chris," he moans. "S-Stop, stop."

Chris pulls back immediately, eyes wide and alert.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Still nervous. Still afraid, maybe, that Felix is unsure or scared.

"Yeah, it was—I was gonna come."

Chris breathes through a shaky laugh, biting again at Felix's thigh.

"Fuck, that was hot," he whispers, mouth wet and sensitive-red. "You like riding my face like that?"

"Y-Yes," he says, belatedly realizing that maybe he shouldn't have acted so aggressively. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Don't ever be sorry," he says. "God, it was sexy. You're like—You're perfect."

A bead of precome pearls at the head of his cock, and he looks away as Chris rubs it in with his fingers.

"So fucking pretty," he whispers. "Look at this pretty cock."

Felix whimpers, and he covers his eyes.

"Don't get shy," Chris says. "You like it."

"I know," Felix says. "I'm just—I like it too much. You're gonna make me come."

"That's the plan, ideally." He moves up the bed, and Felix watches him open the second drawer, rooting around in the back. He is smiling as he withdraws the half-used bottle of Astroglide. "You're so predictable."

"S-Shut up," Felix says.

Chris kisses him again, again, and Felix moans, his hand against Chris's chest. He is spread back out on the sheets again, legs spreading too, Chris on his stomach between them.

"We just gotta get you relaxed, okay?"

"Okay," he says, hands shaking before he grips the sheets.

"It won't hurt," Chris assures him. "You just gotta tell me if something feels wrong. Okay? Be honest."

"Okay."

A slick fingertip presses against him, and Felix screws his eyes shut tight as he waits for it to press in. No such pressure comes. Chris only rubs it around, circling it with gentleness. Felix moans as he opens his eyes again, and Chris is smiling up at him.

"Just like this," he says softly, bending down to dot a kiss to one of his burgeoning bruises. "We'll get you nice and ready just like this."

"F-Feels good," Felix says.

"Yeah?" And Felix nods. "I'm glad." Another kiss to his thigh. "I'm really glad."

And that's how it goes, so fucking slow and patient. Chris plays with him, kisses him, nips at his skin. He wasn't sure what it would be like, but how in the world could he have pictured this? Measured, meticulous, but it reminds him of lighting a bonfire. At first, it is nothing but the kindling, but sooner rather than later, it all goes up in flame. Felix is falling apart by the time Chris finally presses his fingertip in, and it sinks in easily, met with no resistance. Chris moves it in and out, the lube making a hot, wet sound, and Felix moans, the sensations overwhelming.

"Feels okay?" Chris checks.

"F-Feels good," Felix says. "M-Maybe more?"

Chris says nothing, but he moves the finger deeper inside Felix, and Felix tilts his hips to meet it. It is easy, he thinks, hysterically relieved, when you are properly prepared.

He is really lucky it's with Chris. That Chris is the one taking care of him.

"Good," Chris praises, kissing Felix's knee. "Doing so good."

"F-Fuck," Felix curses, and he spreads his legs wider. "More."

Chris stares into his eyes as he brushes the tip of his finger against Felix's prostate. If all the lights in the world went out at that exact moment, he would not have noticed. That is how bright the pleasure is. He haphazardly reaches down his body to take himself in a hard grip, moaning about his impending orgasm before Chris withdraws his touch with a self-satisfied grin.

It is easy to take a second finger, much less easy to hold himself back as Chris begins to curl his fingers on every stroke, milking him forward. Felix cries and sobs out his ecstasy, and Chris fucks him harder, more insistently, his hand slapping against Felix's body.

"You like it when I touch you there?"

"Yes," he cries. "God, yes."

"Look at you," Chris whispers, biting yet another mark to Felix's inner thigh before getting to his knees. "Such a good fucking boy. Such a good boy. Taking it so fucking good."

Felix's body shakes as he tries to hold himself back from coming all over himself, biting at his lip and breathing hard through his nose.

"You really like that, huh?" Chris says. "When I praise you."

"Yeah," Felix says, and he can't feel his toes, he's curling them so hard to keep his orgasm at bay. "S-So praise me more."

Chris rolls his lips, hungry.

"I will," he says. "My pretty little thing."

And Felix cannot dam it any longer, that welling, spilling feeling—Chris crooks his fingers and Felix throws his head back with a moan, coming on Chris's fingers, coming over his stomach, coming, coming, coming.

Everything is white and heavy over him as he exhales hard, opening his eyes to see Chris watching him, hawklike, thirsting. And Felix opens his mouth, unsure of what to say. Maybe just Chris's name.

"S-Shit," Chris whispers, and Felix watches his knuckles go white as he squeezes himself hard. "You're so—I've—"

"Please," Felix begs. "Can you fuck me now?"

"Give me a second," Chris says. "You're gonna make come before I'm even inside you."

"I-I am?"

"You're so fucking sexy," he says, breathing out the words like he can barely contain them. "I never—It's almost too much."

The same level. That's what it feels like. For the first time, it feels like Felix is operating on the same level as him. Able to change him. Able to reach him. Able to drag him down if he wanted.

"I want you," Felix tells him. "Come here."

"Be a good boy," Chris laughs. "Don't tempt me."

"But I want you. And I don't care how I get you. I just want you."

Chris crushes him in the kiss that follows, his stomach sticking to Chris's, their bodies adhesive and hot. The kiss is unlike those that preceded it—wetter, sloppier, more passionate. This is what I can do to him, he thinks, drunk on the feeling. This is what I'm capable of. Chris is panting by the time he is slicking himself up, forehead against Felix's, staring into his eyes.

"Tell me," he says, stiff, tense, "if it hurts. If you want to stop. Okay?"

Felix hooks his leg around Chris's waist. Drawing him in. Chris sinks into him, and their mouths open. Air between them, but nothing else. They are entirely together. Inseparable.

"F-Fuck," Chris says. "You feel—"

"I'm so full," Felix whispers. "You're filling me all the way up."

"S-Shut up," he laughs, hanging his head to Felix's collarbone. "You gotta stop talking."

He touches Chris's back, moving his hand up and down Chris's spine. He's so strong. Felix touches him ravenously, suddenly obsessed with the thought that this could belong to him.

"Felix," Chris groans. "Fuck. Stop."

"Why?"

"You're gonna—I want this to last a little bit longer," he says.

"But I—"

"Just lie back," Chris whispers, kissing him softly. "Let me make love to you."

Felix moans brokenly, what a thought, making love, and Chris kisses him deeper, longer. He doesn't move, not at all, just kisses Felix well. He becomes someone different inside that embrace, so much so that when Chris does begin to pull out only to push back in, he chokes out a sound he isn't sure he's ever made before.

"Hurt?" Chris asks, voice pulled tightly with strain.

"No," Felix says. "Feels good. Feels so good."

Sweat drips onto Felix's skin, sweat right from Chris's nose, his hair, and Felix groans, licking his lips. If only he could taste it.

"I'm gonna move," Chris warns. "Tell me if—"

And Felix hooks his other leg around Chris now, ankles locked behind his back.

"Fuck me," he whispers. "Please, Chris. Fuck me."

Chris curses lowly, head bowed in concentration as he begins to move his hips, grunting as he begins to rock them both up the bed, every thrust slow, every moment stretching so taut that Felix thinks it's liable to snap before the next. He clings to him, fingertip bruises on Chris's neck and his shoulders, moaning in his ear as torrential euphoria begins to thread through the base of him. He cradles Chris with his arms, hips, legs, receives every press of their bodies with a moan and a whisper of his love.

"F-Felix," Chris whispers. "God."

"Feels so good," he whines. "Oh my God."

Chris bites at his own lips, reddening them in frustration before he tangles Felix with another, licking into his mouth and making him swallow his moans. Felix drinks it in, drinks it in deep, and the rhythm builds every time Felix calls his name, every time Felix tells him how much he likes it.

The snapping of Chris's hips sends impossible pleasure fracturing out in bright waves of color and light, and Felix holds on for dear life as he feels himself beginning to lose purchase on his stamina, his sanity, everything tethering him down.

"C-Chris," he whimpers, "fuck, I can't—"

"I know, I'm—"

"Chris, I'm so—"

"Felix," Chris moans, "fuck. You feel so fucking good." He kisses Felix's forehead, so tender and sweet, and he crushes him in a hug. "God, I love you. I love you so fucking much."

"D-Don't," Felix groans. "Stop, I'm gonna—"

His hips stutter, and the rhythm goes wild and unpredictable.

"Am I gonna make you come?" he asks.

"Y-Yes," he cries, and he works his hand between their bodies, taking his dick in a tight grip, "fuck, Chris. I'm gonna come."

"Come on," Chris encourages. "Come on, I wanna see you come for me. I wanna make you come." He breathes hard against Felix's ear, moaning and shuddering. "Oh, fuck. I love you, D. Come on. I love you so fucking much. I want to make you come."

He's only ever wanted this.

Felix comes hard, tears falling down his face as he calls Chris's name. He kisses Chris desperately as he rides out those waves, the whole of him tightening and releasing, tightening and releasing, tightening and releasing, fingers closing around the last vestiges of heaven and pulling it right to his chest.

Chris pulls out before he comes into his hand, and Felix watches with hazy eyes, something intensely romantic about the way he looks down at Felix. Felix wishes he would have painted him with it. He wishes he could have felt it on his body.

I love you, Chris said. I love you so fucking much.

Maybe, it was well within his power to demand it next time.

Chris is sucking down air as he kneels there on Felix's bed, staring down at him. Chris wipe his hand over himself, adding to the smear of sex across his abdomen, licking his lips. Felix sticks out his hand to him, feeling like he's been reborn into something infinitely better than he was before.

"Lay with me," he says.

"I shouldn't."

"Why not?" he frowns, and Chris relents immediately, his thigh against Felix's thigh. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's just—now I'm all sticky," Chris laughs. "And sweaty. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I like it."

Chris laughs, and he kisses Felix's hair. "Of course you do."

"Well, if it bothers you so much, we could shower together."

"Shower?" Chris laughs. "No fucking way."

"Why not?"

"We've got about, I don't know," Chris says, looking over at the clock on Felix's wall, "ten minutes until your mom gets home, if I know her."

It's hard to argue with him when he knows Felix's mom so well.

"Fine," Felix says. "We'll lay here for nine minutes and thirty seconds, and then we'll get dressed."

Chris laughs, says "Sure," and pulls Felix in by the waist.

There is an easy sheet of silence, and they drag it over themselves in tandem. Felix shuts his eyes, lazing in the moment, and he is very nearly on the edge of sleep when Chris whispers a question.

"You don't like it when I call you D, do you?" Chris asks.

"No," Felix laughs. "I've always hated it."

Except for just then, he thinks. Except for now.

"I kind of thought you did," Chris says softly. He pauses a moment. Thinks. "Maybe, sometimes I said it just to dissuade you. Push you away."

Felix swallows. "You didn't want me to like you?"

"How could I want you to like me?" he laughs. "You're seven years younger than me."

"I... I get it."

"And you were such a stubborn kid. If I gave you an inch, you'd take a mile," Chris says. "Part of the reason I like you so much now, I guess. It—You know what you want, and you won't stop 'til you get it." He smiles, gentle. "I guess I'm just lucky that it's me that you want."

It is such a lovely thing to say and at the loveliest moment. It hits Felix then that this is not some fly-by-night hookup. This is something that's gonna stick with him for the rest of his life.

"What should I call you now, then?" Chris asks. "Since I can't call you that."

"J-Just Felix," Felix says, mind wandering in all sorts of soft, twisted directions, "I guess."

"Maybe," Chris offers, turning towards him, kissing him on the hollow of his throat, "something like babe."

Felix's heart thumps wildly in his neck, and Chris makes a delighted sound of shock as he pulls back.

"W-Whoa," he laughs. "I felt that." He grins. "You like that? Babe? Hm? You wanna be my baby?"

Felix swallows, and he rolls over Chris, surprising a sound of wet arousal from him. That surge of power runs through him like fractured electrical wiring, sparking and shaking with energy to spare. He kisses Chris, licks into his mouth, and he reaches between them. Chris's cock is soft, but it is still slick with lube. He touches him, and he tastes Chris's moan, sweet on his tongue.

He's not just a kid anymore. He's not just some little duck following after Chris anymore. He is an equal, and this is the beginning of something. He is someone Chris can love. Someone who can be good for him.

"I do," Felix answers. "I really do."

He figures they've got at least six minutes and forty-eight seconds until his mom comes home.

Felix could go to work with a lot less.