Archive of Our Own

There’s an old rock song playing softly over the bar’s speakers. The clatter of dishes and glasses is nearly louder than the music, but there’s only a few other customers so there’s no hum of voices to drown out the guitar and beat of the drums. If his mind weren’t elsewhere, he could probably remember the name of the song, but he’s too distracted to place it now. Chan’s eyes wander around the bar, over towards the tables where a few other patrons are seated, eating and drinking. It’s a Wednesday night, not exactly peak hours.

This isn’t the sort of place he usually frequents either. Then again, he’s not the type to know what’s trendy either. He just tags along with his friends, whenever he does get out. But the reviews here looked good, people said the food was above average and the drinks were even better. Which is funny, because he rarely ever even drinks. Mostly, the appeal was that it was a quiet place, more of a place known by locals than by tourists. And they have events during Pride, which isn’t unheard of in Los Angeles, but you never really know these days.

Chan hasn’t been on a date in…years, maybe. The last thing he needs tonight is harassment, on top of his already multiplying nerves. Maybe he should have ordered a drink. All he’s got now is a glass of sparkling water with a lemon in it, and he hasn’t drank much because his stomach is already flip-flopping inside him.

He’s been here for about thirty minutes now. When he checks his phone, he finds it’s actually been thirty-three minutes. But that’s his own fault, he got here early. Their date isn’t supposed to be until 7:30, and that’s still ten minutes away. So he hasn’t been stood up yet.

They started talking about three weeks ago. Considering his dating life has been abysmal, especially since moving to Los Angeles over a year ago, he figured it was as good of a time as any to download a dating app. And no, Grindr isn’t exactly a dating app, but one of his coworkers said he met his boyfriend on Grindr, so all hope is not lost. Something casual wouldn’t hurt either, though. Chan downloaded the app fully expecting something casual.

Only, he’s never been very good at casual.

Which is why he’s now sitting in a bar, leg shaking, glass of sparkling water half empty.

He got a few messages when he first downloaded the app, but most of them were either insanely explicit or vaguely off-putting. The first normal message came from an account with a few pictures, all of them hiding the user's full face. Yongbok, 25.

Somehow, they hit it off pretty quick. They bonded over video games, their shared Korean background, and the fact that both of them are also from Australia. That first night, they stayed up for hours messaging back and forth.

Everything was downhill from there. Or, well, uphill maybe. It was going well, but Chan’s friends quickly informed him that most people don’t use Grindr to continuously message someone for weeks on end without ever meeting up. It’s a hookup app, after all, and Chan has instead been messaging the same guy and very much not doing any hooking up.

He’s always been a bit stubborn though. So he just…continued doing what he’d been doing. They were texting every day. Learned how close they’d actually been when growing up in Sydney. Bonded over the fact that both their parents were separated and remarried. Complained about annoying step siblings. Reminisced about home while discussing the challenges of living in a new city.

Yongbok was new to Los Angeles, Chan learned. At the two week mark, they exchanged phone numbers and talked on the phone for two hours straight. Chan’s own profile on the app lacked any decent pictures of his face. He doesn’t think it’s his strongest asset anyway, and he had comfort in the anonymity. So neither of them had seen each other at that point, but hearing Yongbok was still an experience, to say the least.

They didn’t talk about anything suggestive. Maybe that made it weirder. But Yongbok’s voice was deep, his laugh even deeper until it got higher at the end.

“I wish we could video chat, but I’m still unpacking and my place looks like shit,” he’d said. “Honestly, I look like shit too. Like, the dark circles under my eyes right now are crazy.”

“I bet you look fine,” Chan had murmured. Yongbok hummed, and the sound sunk into Chan’s skin.

And so it continued still.

But when he confided in his friends again, told them about all the deep talks and constant texting, they looked at him like he was crazy. Insane. Changbin was the first to tell him he was being catfished. Not that Chan wanted to believe he could be so gullible, but it was hard to deny that some of the pictures on Yongbok’s profile were a bit too good to be true. Hints of skin, a small waist, bleached blond hair.

Jisung pointed out that it seemed like too much of a coincidence for them to have so much in common. Suggesting, perhaps, that Yongbok, whoever he was, was simply making himself out to be Chan’s ideal type by agreeing with everything he said. But then, to what end?

“He’s going to try to scam you, probably,” Changbin said with enough confidence that Chan almost believed him.

Of course, then he spent another night on the phone with Yongbok, and decided he could not possibly be a catfish. He was too genuine, too real. 

The thought did eat at him though.

So finally, after week three, Chan figured it was probably time to grow a pair and just ask Yongbok if he wanted to meet up for a date. Or just to hang out. Whatever. It could be totally chill.

After all the teasing from his friends, he kind of expected the answer to be no. For Yongbok to ghost him at that point, and refuse to meet up. Or, maybe he’d finally enact his plan to somehow scam Chan out of all his money. Even though they literally never talked about money, and barely had skirted the line into sexting. A few slightly suggestive pictures sent and various compliments were hardly blackmail material. The worst thing Chan had sent were a few shirtless pics when he was alone in the gym locker room late in the evening. They’d never even sent dick pics.

When he finally crafted a message asking Yongbok out, and then hyped himself up enough to send it, he got a response almost right away. 

Of course! I’d love to! When are you free?

After some back and forth, they settled on a weeknight. They were both pretty busy, and Yongbok was still getting settled after moving, but tonight was the night they settled on. Chan picked the place, and they confirmed it was nearby both of their apartments. An equal distance apart, which might suggest they could easily go back to one of their places if the date went well. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Chan’s part. If this was some kind of catfish situation, the date might end before it even begins.

Realistically, he knows he shouldn’t be getting his hopes up. They don’t even really know each other. He’s always been the type to get attached too quickly, and it puts some people off. In the past, he’s moved too fast and lost people even faster, and it’s really only pushed him further from wanting to date. Even if he is lonely. Yongbok didn’t seem to mind that he was eager, though. He let Chan ramble on the phone, laughed at his lame jokes, and even ended one of their phone calls with a soft, “I think I really like you”.

Chan really likes him, too. This is about more than just a hookup. Sure, he’d take that too, but he’d like for it to be more, if the date goes well.

So he sits. And waits.

They were texting earlier. Around two hours ago, Yongbok told him he was getting ready and was excited to see him. Now, his eyes flickering back and forth from his glass of water to the door, his phone buzzes.

Almost there! 

Chan’s stomach swoops and he sits up a little straighter.

Cool, he replies. I’m here! Sitting at the bar waiting for you haha.

In response, he gets a heart emoji. The minutes that follow feel like they last forever. The other patrons at the bar probably think he’s either a loner, or been stood up by now, so he tries to act normal and not stare at the door. His leg continues to shake and he scrolls up and down on his notes app so it looks like he’s doing something, until he hears the little bell on the bar’s door jingle. It takes an inhuman amount of strength to be casual and not break his neck looking back, but somehow he manages.

A few moments later, there’s a light touch on his back.

“Chan?”

The voice is the same. Impossibly deep. The familiar accent that sounds like home.

And when he turns around, full of nerves and anticipation, he finally has a face to go with the voice. It’s just not the face he expects to see at all.

“Yeah! I—” His voice quickly dies on his tongue when he’s met with the brown eyes looking at him. Big and beautiful, just like the rest of the man standing before him. He is, undeniably, far more beautiful than Chan could have anticipated. Freckles are scattered across tan skin, sharp features framed by blond hair that skims his shoulders. The picture of him is the kind of thing people write songs about.

There’s just one problem. And it clicks quickly. As soon as his mouth opens, and he speaks again.

“Chris?”

Chan hasn’t gone by Chris in years. He started going by Chan when he left Australia for Korea when he was eighteen. And now that he’s settled in Los Angeles, he’s just continued going by Chan. Only his friends from back home call him Chris. And his family.

His family. Like his mother, and his father, and his siblings. And his step siblings.

Like, for example—

“Felix?”

“Oh my god,” Felix says, his shoulders slumping. “The universe hates me.”

Under different circumstances, Chan might laugh. Instead, he feels like he might throw up. He hasn’t seen Felix in years, after all. Had no idea Felix was even in Los Angeles too. Last he heard, Felix was still in Australia. And the last time he even saw Felix was probably around eight years ago. Sometime after Chan’s father got married to Felix’s mother. 

His last solid memory of Felix was the wedding. He was nearly twenty, and Felix was on the verge of seventeen. It was the day that officially marked them as step brothers, though clearly their complete lack of communication for years meant they weren’t close. And when they were kids and their parents began dating, and eventually moved in together, Chan still lived with his mum most of the time, spending weekends here and there with his dad and the new family that came along with his new relationship.

They didn’t get on much then either. Chan tried. He really did. Hannah became fast friends with Felix’s sisters, but Felix was…frustrating. They came from entirely different backgrounds, it felt like. And perhaps they were both resentful. Chan was close with his dad, but he was close with his mum too. He didn’t want his dad to get remarried. He didn’t want step siblings. He was a teenager, and eager to start forging his own path.

He didn’t have time to get invested in having three new siblings when he already had two real siblings. 

Part of him hoped the relationship wouldn’t last.

Yet, it did, and visiting his dad on the weekends meant driving over to Seven Hills and dealing with fifteen year old Felix, who seemed to both want nothing and everything to do with him. Technically, they weren’t step brothers yet then. But their parents moving in together made it clear it would only be a matter of time.

For a year, they tolerated each other.

And now, somehow, after all this time, Felix has become someone new. Someone Chan didn’t want to stop talking to. Someone beautiful, and funny, and—

“You—” Chan’s voice cracks. He clears his throat. His entire body feels like it’s running too hot and too cold at the same time. “You said I was annoying!”

Felix blinks. “What?”

“When—I mean, when we were talking about our families! You said you had an older step brother and—and he was super fucking irritating! That was—you were talking about me!” Chan knows he’s being too loud. The bartender is glancing over at them.

Felix is staring at him with wide eyes, like he still can’t quite believe this is happening to them. His mouth opens and closes, and then something seems to crack and he laughs, loud enough that he clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. With his eyes crinkled and his face flushed red, Chan is again struck with the fact that Felix is beautiful. Not just handsome, but genuinely gorgeous. All these years without speaking or seeing one another makes the difference all the more striking. 

Last time Chan saw Felix, he was still an awkward teenager. His hair was cut short, and he dressed like all the other guys at his Catholic school. He was trying to blend in. Sure, he was good looking, but he didn’t look like this. This version of him feels more authentic. Clearly Felix is more confident now. Sure of himself.

Chan feels like he has not changed at all in comparison. 

“Sorry,” Felix says, waving his hand around in front of himself. “I just—this is insane, right?”

“I—”

“And yeah, you were fucking irritating!” Felix says, still smiling, incredulous. “And you said I was annoying too! That you had a younger step brother and he was…what did you say…‘a little shit’?”

“Well you were. How many times did I have to cover for you when you snuck out on the weekends?”

“Um, like twice?” Felix drones. “And for the record, I wasn’t even doing anything crazy. I was going to my friend’s house literally one street over so we could play video games.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“You were the one that was always up my ass! Like, you were trying way too hard to be my brother, it was so annoying,” Felix says. He crosses his arms over his chest, and Chan groans, turning away from him and covering his face with his hands.

There’s a moment of silence, and then he feels a light touch on his back, and Felix sliding into the chair next to him at the bar. The seats are close enough together that Chan can feel the warmth of his body, and smell his cologne. It’s something sweet, hints of vanilla and citrus. When he uncovers his face, Felix just stares back at him, his eyes sparkling with something like curiosity.

“It is kind of nice to see you,” he says softly. “Been a while.”

“Kind of?”

“Well, minus the fact that I thought I was getting laid tonight and…well, you know,” Felix elaborates. Chan feels his own face flush. So Felix—Yongbok?—was hoping for it. Wanting it. Is it wrong if he feels relieved to know he wasn’t the only one? “Did you really not know it was me?”

Chan considers the past few weeks for only a second. The pictures on Felix’s profile hiding most of his face. The curve of his waist and arch of his back. A picture he sent one evening, after a shower. The towel wrapped low around Felix’s hips, the jut of his hip bones and lines of lean muscle on tan skin. The line of hair under his belly button, dark and coarse.

Thinking about you, Felix had said.

And Chan’s reply: You’re so gorgeous oh my god.

And then Felix sent back a melting emoji, and Chan had been too uncertain to initiate anything, even though he had jerked off with that image burned behind his eyelids only minutes later.

Fuck, he thinks, now. Guilt pools in his stomach. In his chest.

“No. I—I mean, how would I have known?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you know?”

“No!”

“Well, what even is the name Yongbok? That’s not even close to Felix. At least Chan is…Chris-adjacent.”

“It’s my Korean name. I used it since, like, you know, I’ve been trying my hand at influencing and stuff. And I just got a contract with a modeling agency here. But I’m also new here and lonely, so…I just didn’t want the wrong person to recognize me, you know?” Felix explains. “And Chan is kind of a common name, isn’t it? And you always went by Chris back then. And you also were not this…built.”

Chan looks down at himself and then back at Felix. When he shifts to face him, their knees touch. “I look the same.”

Felix scoffs. “No you don’t. Your biceps are huge.”

Chan crosses his arms over his chest. He’s wearing a jacket now, a black tank top under it, but it’s not like he didn’t have pictures on his own profile. He sent Felix gym pictures.

“I wouldn’t say huge.”

“Oh come on. You know what you look like,” Felix says. Then he sighs. “Like, you were cute back then, but now…” But he trails off, unwilling to finish the thought. And he turns to face forward, waves for the bartender, while Chan tugs awkwardly on his own ear lobe and lets the implication of Felix’s words sink in.

They should part ways and go home. Separately. Instead, Chan sits there as Felix orders a drink, and then turns to him and looks him over for several long seconds before ordering a second drink. When the bartender brings them over, Felix pushes one to Chan, and then takes a sip of his own. It’s some kind of cocktail, and he ordered Chan the same thing. He isn’t much of a drinker, but when he sips it, it doesn’t taste much like alcohol at all.

“So. I didn’t know you were in Los Angeles,” Felix says. 

“I didn’t know you were gay.”

Felix blinks at him. Chan watches his tongue dart out over his lower lip. The way his hair falls after he runs a hand through it. The low lights in the bar making the tiny bit of glitter dusted over his eyelids sparkle. The dip of his collarbone where his oversized shirt falls aside.

“I’m bi,” Felix deadpans.

“Oh.” Chan pulls at a thread on his jeans. “Well, you had a girlfriend at the wedding. I remember. What was her name? Melanie? Mallory?”

“So you assumed I was straight?”

Chan rolls his eyes. “I didn’t think about it.”

“Anyway,” Felix says. “What are you doing in LA? I know Hannah is here, too, we still talk sometimes. But she didn’t tell me you left Korea.”

“Yeah, um, I got a job as an in-house producer for a label. And I’ve been helping Hannah work on her music on the side, too,” Chan says. “What about you? Modeling? That’s…different.”

Felix’s lips turn up. “Yeah. I’ve been posting videos and stuff since college, and some of my dance stuff really took off and some fashion brands started sending me free shit. I dunno. It’s probably not forever, but it’s working for now.”

“I guess you have the face for it,” Chan murmurs, and Felix smiles.

“Yeah? You think I’m pretty, Chris?” Felix bumps their shoulders together, before his tongue pokes out to bring the straw of his drink closer. If Felix weren’t Felix, he might think this was an attempt at flirting. But they can’t be flirting now.

“Don’t joke,” Chan says. “But yeah. I mean, you gotta know how you look, yeah?”

“I guess. Dating is still rough, though.”

“Yeah, because apparently it’s possible to match with your step brother.”

Felix makes a fake-gagging sound, and then laughs, his ears flushing red again around the blond of his hair. “Don’t say it like that. We didn’t even grow up together.”

“Still.”

“And, like, we haven’t seen each other in years. Sometimes I thought about reaching out…but I dunno. I always kind of hoped your dad and my mum wouldn’t work out. Is that selfish?” Felix averts his gaze, twists a ring around on his finger.

“I mean, I get it.”

At the wedding, they largely avoided each other. Every now and then, Chan remembers catching Felix’s eyes from across the room. But then he’d look away like he’d been caught. By then, Chan was nineteen, and they were in entirely different worlds. He had started his life in Korea, and Felix was still…in whatever phase he was in.

“And I was jealous of you, too,” Felix continues. “Your artsy school and your cooler friends…I wished I could have had all that. And your dad is great, don’t get me wrong. I was just…an angsty teenager.”

“You didn’t seem angsty.”

“I was good at hiding it.”

For a moment, they’re both quiet. Chan takes another long sip of his drink, while Felix swirls his around with the straw. It still feels surreal, sitting next to him now that so much time has passed. Now that they’ve lived so much more of their lives. Felix is twenty-five now. He’s not the dorky kid he once was. And Chan is, on occasion, a lot less insecure than he used to be. But why someone like Felix, someone beautiful and full of light, would ever give him the time of day is beyond him.

He’s not giving you the time of day, Chan reminds himself. This isn’t even a date anymore. 

“Do you wanna get a table?” Felix asks suddenly. Chan looks at him, the hopeful expression on his face. Loneliness is hard to deal with, especially in a new city. Even if this is just them reconnecting, he’d be better off than he was before.

He’s missed the sound of a familiar accent, a reminder of home. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that's cool.” 

“Cool,” Felix agrees, grabbing both their drinks and leading Chan over to a quiet booth in the corner. When Chan slides into the booth first, Felix is quick to slide in right next to him. They aren’t close enough to touch, but close enough for Chan to be able to count the freckles across Felix’s face.

Felix rests his chin in his palm and looks at Chan like he can read his mind, or like he’s trying to. “What?” he asks, a nervous laugh bubbling up in his chest.

“Nothing. I’m just thinking. Like, what are the odds, you know? That it was you. Us.”

Us.

Chan shrugs. “My friends thought you were a catfish or something,” he says, trying to play it off, trying not to get lost in the way Felix is looking at him.

“My friends said you seemed way too intense.”

“Well, I’ve definitely heard that before.”

“I like intense. I didn’t mind,” Felix says. “I thought you seemed sweet.” He pauses, like he’s thinking about what he should say next. Felix has always been expressive. Even as a teenager, Chan felt like Felix’s emotions were all over his face. Looking back, it should have been easy to see how much Felix didn’t want him around. “So, were you talking to anyone else on the app?”

“Oh. No, um, I mean, it was just you,” Chan admits. “Got a couple other messages, but I didn’t answer them.”

“Why are you still single anyway?”

At that, Chan laughs. “Bro, I haven’t been in a relationship in…a long fucking time.”

“Yeah, but why? What’s wrong with you?”

“I work too much. I’m too much for a lot of people, maybe. But also not enough? I dunno. I had a girlfriend a few years ago, but we didn’t even date a year before she broke up with me. Then I had a rebound with this guy, but I guess I thought it was more than it was. He was fucking around with other people when I thought we were exclusive,” Chan says. It’s too much information. Always too much. But he can’t stop himself, and Felix doesn’t interrupt. “And I really wanted to make music, but I felt like I was at such a dead end in Korea and…I guess I got pretty depressed and kinda, you know, stopped trying. But now I feel like maybe I should try again, or at least that’s what I thought. But maybe this is a sign I should just stay single forever.”

“That would be a shame,” Felix says softly. “You annoyed the shit out of me when we were younger, but I could always tell how passionate you were. I was jealous of that, too. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

Chan swallows and looks back at his drink. There’s not much left, so he finishes it in a few more sips. Felix puts a hand on his leg, a light touch that feels like it burns through the fabric of his jeans, before he says he’ll go grab them another round. Chan doesn’t tell him they shouldn’t, so Felix gets up and walks back to the bar. Chan watches him, and watches how the few other patrons turn to look as Felix walks past. 

It would be difficult not to look at Felix. Chan is looking too, after all. He watches Felix lean over the bar to talk to the bartender. He admires the way his oversized t-shirt falls across his frame. Listens to the sound of his voice, and the responding laugh from the bartender. Felix is charming. Alluring.

When he finishes ordering and has their drinks in hand, he turns back around, only to catch Chan staring. Shame burns across the back of Chan’s neck, but then Felix is sliding back into the booth next to him, somehow closer than before.

“So,” Felix says, a dangerous sparkle in his eyes. “In theory, am I, like, your type?”

Chan sputters, and then Felix laughs. The sound of his laughter, high and then tapering off into something deeper, is surprisingly familiar. Clearly, Felix is teasing him. He pokes Chan in the side, and his laughter trails off into something that sounds like heh heh heh.

“You’re still a little shit.”

“You’re easy to tease. Your ears turn red. I remember that. You’ve changed, but not completely.”

How Felix managed to pick up on how to tell when he’s flustered, Chan doesn’t know. All he does know is somehow Felix is managing to crack through his walls. Just like when they thought they were only strangers, Felix is easy to talk to. And so that's what they do. They talk.

Felix tells him all about everything he’s missed over the years. His stint in university for marketing and communications, his passion for dance, his various failed relationships. They talk about video games, and all the visits home when they’ve missed each other entirely. Felix shows him some of the videos he’s posted, dance challenges and fashion stuff. He’s insanely talented, and Chan doesn’t think twice before finding Felix on his own socials and following him. So they can keep in touch, of course.

As they talk, time passes. They both finish their second drinks, and they’re too caught up in conversation to worry about ordering another. Besides, Chan already feels pleasantly buzzed. Just barely, anyway. Enough to know it’s there, but to still feel entirely in control. Just a little bit lighter.

“Do you live nearby?” Felix asks when Chan mentions something about his downstairs neighbors who are always partying on the weekends.

“Not too far. I took an Uber here.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m like, barely a ten minute drive,” Felix says. “I almost walked, but then decided I didn’t want to mess up my hair.”

“Ah, trying to impress someone?”

Felix rolls his eyes. “I was, yeah,” he says with a sigh. “You were kind of a tease, you know? And sue me, it’s been a while. And for the record, you are—were my type.” Felix leans back dramatically, but he looks at Chan through his lashes. “We both knew what we were coming here for, right?”

“Yeah. I mean. Yeah.”

“It’s getting kinda late,” Felix says, when Chan doesn’t push it further. When he doesn’t continue to prod and poke. 

Disappointment washes over him. Of course they have to part ways eventually. And then they can go back to pretending they don’t exist to one another. Back to strangers. They can pretend none of this ever happened. But that’s not particularly what he wants to happen, he’s just not sure what he does want.

“Right. Are you getting tired?”

“Nah,” Felix says quickly. “Do you wanna come to mine? I mostly finished unpacking. So it’s decent.”

“Oh,” Chan glances around the bar. There are still other people, it’s not like it’s close to closing time. It is dark outside now, of course. And there are certain implications to going back to Felix’s place. Implications that probably aren’t actually there.

“I can show you my whole gaming setup,” Felix says, like he needs to explain himself. But then he shrugs one shoulder. “There are lots of things I could show you.”

Okay. Well. Maybe there are a few implications. “Like what?” he asks, anyway. 

“Guess you’ll have to come over and find out.”

Felix smirks, pokes his tongue out. Tension rises in the air between them. And Chan is pretty sure it’s not one-sided. He can’t be imagining the look in Felix’s eyes. But he’s also pretty sure he should say no. Pretty sure they shouldn’t push whatever this is between them. Because it’s weird, isn’t it? Whether they grew up together or not, the fact remains that he should see Felix as a little brother. Shouldn’t he?

“Okay.”

The word leaves his mouth seemingly without permission. Felix smiles so wide it’s blinding.

“Cool,” he says. “I’ll pay our tab.” He starts to get out of the booth, but Chan grabs for his own wallet.

“Nah, don’t, I’ll get it,” he says quickly, trying to pull his card out.

“I got it, mate,” Felix insists. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

Felix puts a hand on his thigh under the table. Squeezes hard enough not to leave room for argument. Chan’s mouth suddenly feels too dry. “I got it,” Felix repeats, and then his hand is gone, and he’s sauntering back to the counter to pay. Normally, Chan is sure he would continue to press the issue. Maybe he’d even follow Felix up to the counter and hand his card over faster. It’s something he would certainly do with his siblings.

But maybe Felix doesn’t want him to see him as a sibling.

Still, Chan is normally the one to pay on first dates, too. Not that this is a date. It definitely isn’t a date. He just has the money, and he doesn’t mind taking care of others. Sometimes, though, like now, it’s nice to be taken care of. The easy way Felix took care of the tab was…kind of hot.

No.

No, Felix is just being nice.

That’s all it is.

I am not so easy that I get turned on by someone paying the tab for me, Chan tells himself. Even though it’s definitely a lie. Clearly it has been too long since he’s had any sort of romantic interaction. Too long since he’s kissed someone, let alone gotten laid. Too long since he’s even liked someone.

Liking Felix is out of the question, though. He can’t like Felix.

As soon as Felix is heading back to the table, though, the tension builds all over again. It’s unfair that Felix just looks like that. So effortlessly…everything. He’s not even wearing anything suggestive, his baggy jeans and oversized t-shirt don’t show off his body, and he moves like he knows exactly who he is. It’s difficult to reconcile this Felix with the one Chan once knew.

“Ready to go?” Felix asks. “I ordered an Uber.”

“I could have done that.”

“Well, I’m trying to flex my influencer money a little bit,” Felix says, before he reaches out and tugs on the sleeve of Chan’s jacket. “Come on.”

Chan can’t imagine being an influencer really pays that much, but what does he know? He did see that Felix has a lot of followers when they were looking at his videos. Apparently he’s just on the wrong side of TikTok, given that he’s never come across Felix’s page. The universe must have just been waiting and plotting to get them to reunite this way. 

This way being Grindr, in Los Angeles, and Chan standing up to follow Felix outside, where they stand shoulder-to-shoulder and wait for their ride. When the car eventually pulls up, and Chan opens the door for Felix, he understands that he has one final opportunity to dip out of whatever this is.

He glances down the street, feels the nighttime breeze across his face. Then, he looks back at Felix, who is looking up at him with a question on his face. What else can Chan do but answer him?

~

Besides the day his father married Felix’s mother, and Felix spent the entire night giving him dirty looks across the dance floor, there is a memory of Felix that stands out in Chan’s mind. It was within the first few months of his dad moving in with Felix’s mum. They knew each other by then. There had been a few family get-togethers before they had moved in together, awkward dinners with all the kids. Hannah and Lucas were taking better to the adjustment, but they were younger. Chan resisted the most, probably. And the three of them really only came around to stay with their dad on the weekends, anyway. For his siblings, it was like having one big hang out. For Chan, it felt like playing pretend.

But he didn’t want to be the only one with a bad attitude about it all. It’s just, he didn’t even have his own bedroom at the house in Seven Hills. He and Lucas shared the guest room, and Hannah would sleep in Felix’s younger sister’s room, since they got on well anyway.

So really, Chan spent much of his time on the weekends out of the house. 

He was seventeen, after all. He had a social life. Friends. Dates. He was trying to find himself, not be stuck in a house with his dad’s girlfriend and her kids.

On one weekend, he spent the entire day out with a guy he had become close with from school. Really, it was more of a date. That, and a way to avoid going back to the house. His friend had a car, and they spent the day driving around Sydney, eating junk food, and talking about the future.

Chan had plenty of queer friends. His school was progressive, not to mention an artsy school, so it wasn’t uncommon. And he was beginning to understand that he was also queer, himself. He’d had girlfriends, and he knew he liked boys in the same way he liked girls.

The whole day was nice. Freeing, somehow.

When his friend brought him home, it was late, and if he weren’t as responsible as he was, his dad probably would have been blowing up his phone asking why he was out past curfew. His mum certainly would have been, but his dad gave him more freedom. One of the only benefits of his weekends in Seven Hills.

So they sat there in the driveway, still talking about everything and nothing. Chan remembers the excited butterflies in his stomach when his friend leaned across the console and kissed him. It felt like waking up. Like things were falling into place. Not because he was foolish enough to believe they were soulmates, or would even last, but just because he understood himself better.

He’s not sure how long they stayed there in the driveway, making out with the porch light spilling in through the car windows. They fumbled, touched each other through their clothes with hesitation and excitement. Chan’s heart was still beating hard in his chest when he finally said goodbye and went inside. There was no use in inviting his friend inside, they wouldn’t have any privacy. He wanted to, sure, but he wasn’t that dumb.

The house was quiet that night. Everyone else must have already turned in. He kicked his shoes off at the door and turned on the light in the kitchen so he could rummage through the fridge and pantry to find a snack. He was there for a while, still riding the high from the kiss, eating Tim Tams straight from the package, when Felix suddenly shuffled into the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest and his hair slightly puffy, like he’d been asleep.

“You were out late,” he said, and when he walked closer, Chan noticed the flush on his cheeks. He wouldn’t quite make eye contact, but he came close enough to take three cookies out of the package. He ate them standing there in front of Chan, the crumbs falling onto the floor between them.

“Yeah.”

“You were gone all day.”

“Yeah…I was hanging with one of my mates.”

“From school?”

“Yeah.”

Felix glanced at him. Looked away again. “Your school seems pretty cool.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Better than mine. Everyone there is a prick.”

Chan laughed, then covered his mouth with his hand. “You have friends, are they pricks?”

“Some of them, yeah,” Felix said. “Everyone there is so stuck up.”

“So are you, a little,” Chan said, and Felix glared at him, rolling his eyes in the way Chan had seen him do plenty of times.

“I’m gonna go far away from here when I finish school,” Felix declared. He stuffed an entire Tim Tam into his mouth and chewed slowly. 

“It’s not so bad here, it’s just about who you surround yourself with, bro,” Chan said. “Like, you have to find the good ones. But you’re, what? Like thirteen? You have time.”

“Fourteen,” Felix grumbled. 

Chan knew perfectly well that Felix was fourteen. He was just being an asshole.

“Right. Well, you have lots of time to figure everything out.”

“Do you have everything figured out?”

“Nah,” Chan shook his head. “I’m a fuckin’ mess, honestly.”

At that, Felix smiled. Just enough for Chan to catch it. “You don’t seem like a mess,” he said. “You seem…”

“I think everyone is a mess, we’re all just pretending.”

“Never mind. Now you sound like a prick, too.”

Chan reached over and shoved Felix’s shoulder lightly. The flush on his face got darker, and he shifted away. But to Chan, this felt like an opportunity. Like maybe Felix was willing to be more than just cordial. Maybe they could tolerate each other, or even be friendly. He doubts Felix would ever fully see him as his brother, but Chan could still offer him…something.

“Wanna make Tim Tam milkshakes with me?” he asked, turning to the freezer to open it and grab a carton of vanilla ice cream sitting in the back. 

Felix shifted on his feet, then glanced back into the darkness of the rest of the house. “Won’t we wake everyone up?”

“Who cares? Live a little.”

“That’s not what you said last weekend. When you caught me sneaking out.”

“Well, maybe I’ve changed since then.”

Again, Felix rolled his eyes. But he didn’t argue. Instead, he walked past Chan and took the blender out of one of the cabinets, placing it on the counter and gesturing towards it as if to say here, take it away. 

They didn’t talk much while they worked. But they did probably make too much noise, yet no one else came in to tell them to go to bed. Their milkshakes got made as they moved around one another in the kitchen. Chan could feel Felix’s eyes on him. Each time he looked over, Felix would look away.

Once they were done, sitting at the kitchen island and drinking their shakes, Chan had hoped that things might change between them. That things might change with their families. Maybe this place would start to somehow feel like home, too. They could, somehow, find a piece of that home within each other.

But when morning came, and Chan came down for a late breakfast with everyone, Felix got up and left the table as soon as Chan sat down. The sound of his bedroom door slamming echoed from upstairs. Nothing changed. Their lives remained separate.

Except, on the rare occasions when they were alone together. Then, Felix would inch closer. He’d look at Chan with something he couldn’t decipher. Sometimes, Felix would even laugh at his jokes. Sometimes, Chan began to hope. But it was only when they were alone, that Felix clung to him. Any other time, he was distant. A stranger.

~

Felix’s apartment is small, but it has a kitchen, and a living room, and a bathroom, and a bedroom that fits a queen size bed, so it’s certainly far from a tiny studio. The building itself seems new, and his space is a lot neater than Chan expected it would be. He remembers the mess that was Felix’s bedroom back in Sydney. 

When they step inside, they take their shoes off, and Felix apologizes for the boxes still stacked in the little entryway. Then he leads the way inside, and Chan takes everything in while Felix grabs an empty bag of chips and soda can that he left on the coffee table in the living room.

Chan feels full of nerves. His clothes feel too tight, and he has to clasp his hands together to keep from fidgeting. He isn’t sure if he should sit down, or ask for clarification as to what they’re doing here. He knows what they would be doing here, if Felix were just Yongbok, but that’s not how things worked out.

So now he has no idea what to do with himself.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Felix asks, jerking Chan out of his spiraling thoughts. “I have beer, I think. Or some shitty wine. Or, like, water too.”

“Um. Water is good, yeah?”

“I have snacks too, if you’re hungry.”

Chan follows Felix over to the small kitchen, a narrow space with the essentials, a fair amount of counter space, and a little dining table. He gets them each a water from the fridge, and Chan leans against one side of the counter, while Felix turns to face him from the other side. “Not really hungry,” Chan says. “But your place is nice. I guess being an influencer must not be so bad, if you don’t have to have a roommate.”

“Yeah. Living alone definitely has its perks.” Felix looks him over, and Chan chews on his lower lip as he thinks of what to say next. Felix beats him to it, though, putting down the water bottle he hasn’t even opened. “So, you didn’t answer me. Am I your type?”

“Am I yours?” Chan counters, skin buzzing. They’re not here for nothing. Even at an arms length away, he can practically feel the heat radiating off Felix’s body. His jacket feels too heavy, and he fidgets when Felix narrows his eyes.

“I asked first. And I said you were.”

“Yeah. Were. Past tense. Before you knew it was me.”

Felix scoffs. “Come on, you have to know I wasn’t just jealous of you back then.”

“What? What does that mean?”

Felix rolls his eyes, just like he used to. His leg stretches out in the space between them and he kicks Chan’s leg lightly. “I was…obsessed with you,” he says. “You annoyed the shit out of me because…because you were something I couldn’t have. I wanted to be like you, but I also wanted…”

He trails off, but pieces of the past begin to slowly fall into place. All the weird behavior from Felix, the avoidance and disdain. “You…”

“I liked you,” Felix says bluntly. “But you were older, and cooler, and all I fucking wanted was for our parents to break up so it wouldn’t be weird that I liked you.”

“I thought you—I thought you just hated me!”

Felix laughs, and then looks down at his hands, the bracelets and rings he’s wearing. Chan wonders if Felix touched him, if the metal would be hot, or cold. “I did hate you, but not for the reason you thought.”

“But you really didn’t know it was me these past few weeks?”

“No! Of course not!” Felix’s eyes get wide, but he plays it off quickly. “I basically pushed you to the far corners of my brain so I wouldn’t have to face whatever weird feelings for you I had. It was easier to pretend you didn’t exist. And I know you didn’t think of me the same way. I know you were trying to be a big brother. That isn’t what I wanted. That’s why I pushed you away.”

Chan blinks. Rewrites everything he thought about their interactions from childhood. Considers the wedding, when Felix seemed to both not be able to keep his eyes off Chan, but also didn’t want to be near him. How before then, Felix wouldn’t even let Chan get close. All the awkwardness. All the angst.

“I mean, I didn’t think of you that way then.”

“I know.”

“But—I mean, yeah, I don’t know if I have a type now, but obviously…you’re beautiful. Obviously I think you’re attractive. I liked you. I liked talking to you.”

“Liked?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you want. This is—this would be wrong, wouldn’t it?” Chan says, even though saying it out loud implies he’s thinking about it. If they don’t say anything, they could pretend none of this ever happened.

“What would be wrong?” Felix asks, meeting his eyes again. His lips turn up. He’s being a tease.

“This,” Chan says. He gestures between them. “Whatever we’re doing.”

“We aren’t doing anything.”

“Lix, you know what I mean,” he tries. Don’t make me say it. 

“I know we aren’t really doing anything wrong. We aren’t related or anything like that,” Felix says. “We didn’t even grow up together. It’s all just in your head. And you could have said no when I invited you over, but you didn’t.”

“You’re all I’ve been thinking about for the past few weeks. I just—I don’t know how to pretend this isn’t weird,” Chan says.

Again, Felix seems entirely unaffected. He pushes away from the counter and steps closer, and Chan has plenty of space to move away. He could leave right now, go home and go to bed and forget Felix exists. But then Felix’s hand trails down his arm, such a light touch he can barely feel it through the sleeve of his jacket. “I like weird,” Felix says decidedly.

Chan can’t help but smile at that. Of course Felix likes weird. He didn’t mind listening to Chan rant and ramble about music, video games, working out, and everything in between for hours on the phone. And sure, he denies he knew it was Chan, but not even part of him recognized Chan’s voice? Put any of the pieces together?

Maybe he liked it. Didn’t even consider that Chan could actually be Chris, but got off on the similarities.

Or maybe part of him did know. And that part of him didn’t care.

“So…what?” Chan whispers. “We’re just gonna pretend we aren’t…”

He still can’t say the words. As far removed as they are from what ties them together, he doesn’t even want to acknowledge it. Especially not with Felix so close. His eyes flicker down to Felix’s lips, the dip of his cupid’s bow, the shine of spit and remnants of lip gloss.

“We don’t have to pretend anything,” Felix says. His hand moves up now. Up, over leather, until his hand is on Chan’s neck, and his rings feel like ice against his overheated skin. “Maybe I just need my big brother to take care of me.”

That should not be the thing that tips him over the edge. The fact that it is, is entirely fucked up. But right now, Chan can’t be bothered to care. All that matters is this. So, before his rational thoughts can catch up with the irrational, he pulls Felix in, and they collide there against the kitchen counter.

Felix meets him halfway in the collision, their noses bump, and then Felix’s lips are on his. All at once Felix is kissing him, his hands tangling in Chan’s hair and Chan’s hands winding around Felix’s waist. They don’t waste time. It’s hard, desperate, everything, right from the start. Felix’s tongue flicks against the seam of Chan’s lips and he opens for him, drinking down the moan that spills into his mouth.

Felix nips his lower lip with his sharp little teeth, swirls his tongue alongside Chan’s, kisses him like a man starved. His nails scratch Chan’s scalp, and then press against his chest. His tongue is a welcome distraction, occupying Chan so that he can push his jacket off his shoulders. Chan lets his hands leave Felix’s body just long enough to let the jacket fall away, and he uses the opportunity to switch their position, to press Felix against the counter instead.

Through the movement, the frantic way Felix grabs for him, touches him, squeezes his arms, they don’t stop kissing. Felix tastes like the drinks they had at the bar, and when Chan sucks on his tongue, Felix moans so deeply that the sound seems to vibrate through Chan’s skin.

And then, Felix grabs him by the loops on his jeans, yanking him in even closer before his hands slide around and he grabs Chan by the ass. It’s not a sexy thing to do, but Chan laughs into Felix’s mouth. Felix doesn’t seem very deterred though. Instead, he tilts away, kissing along Chan’s jaw and neck.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Felix says. His voice comes out sounding like a growl. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Chan whines, and Felix grinds against him, licks a fat stripe up the side of his neck before he bites Chan’s earlobe, tugs on his earring. It’s so much, all at once, and Chan is suddenly very aware of how hard he is. That’s probably why he can’t think. All the blood has rushed from his brain, straight to his dick.

“We—We shouldn’t,” he says, and Felix squeezes his ass harder, kisses him again. Chan slots his leg between Felix’s thighs, and even through two layers of denim, he can feel that Felix is hard too.

“But you want to?” Felix asks, rutting against him. “I can feel that you do.”

“Lix—”

“Yeah. Fuck, I like when you call me that,” he rasps. Their mouths drag together, panting into each other as Felix rolls his hips. “Tell me you want me too. Say it.”

“I—I want you,” Chan admits, shame burning down the back of his neck. Felix’s hands move again, up his back, again over his chest, squeezing muscle and tweaking his nipples through his tank top. Again, Chan whines, the sound too high in the quiet apartment, so much lighter than the sound of Felix’s voice, somehow deeper the more aroused he becomes.

Felix sucks a mark into his skin, on his neck in a spot that will be difficult to hide. He bites when he’s through, leaning back to look at the redness streaking across Chan’s skin. Chan feels hazy, like he’s dreaming. This is how he hoped the evening might end, or at least with the promise of a second date, but looking into Felix’s eyes makes it surreal. There are freckles across his eyelids, dancing across his features. He is an angel.

Or maybe a demon, masquerading as something pure.

Because there is nothing pure about the way Felix kisses him. They moan in unison as Felix licks into his mouth, slick and wet. A wave of jealousy passes through Chan, as he wonders about who else Felix might have kissed like this. Of course, so much time has passed, naturally Felix has done this before. He shouldn’t be jealous. Can’t be.

There’s something about them, though. Something about how right this feels, to be kissing and rutting against one another in Felix’s little kitchen.

It’s you, his brain reminds him. It’s you getting too attached too fast. 

Before he can succumb to his thoughts, Felix pulls away. His hands slip down, skimming against the front of Chan’s jeans. He unbuttons them, slides the zipper down while maintaining painful eye contact.

“I used to think about this,” Felix says, and Chan shudders. “About you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. God, I hated when you’d come over on the weekends. You drove me insane.”

Felix slips his hand down into Chan’s jeans without warning, and he gasps as Felix cups him through his boxers.

“That’s why you were such a little shit?”

“I wanted you all to myself.”

“I had no idea.”

“I know, I was afraid I was too obvious. So I just…avoided you,” Felix says with a casual shrug. He squeezes Chan’s dick, and looks down at where his hand is shoved into his open jeans. “You’re wet,” he says, and Chan audibly swallows. “Leaking in your underwear, just over this?”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’m fucking easy,” Chan mutters, and Felix laughs. He strokes him carefully, slow, fingers moving over the wet spot on his underwear.

And then his hand is gone, and Chan watches as Felix steps away, sliding out from between him and the counter and holding out his hand. “Come on,” he says, and Chan cannot deny him.

Felix leads him down the hallway and into the bedroom, flicking the light on to reveal all the boyish charm Felix has put into his space. Chan recalls that Felix was, undoubtedly, the epitome of a teenage boy back in the day. He rarely let Chan get a glimpse into his bedroom, but the few times Chan did see it, it was messy and full of all Felix’s trinkets. He’d have laundry scattered around, and his bed was only half-made. 

Now, his room is considerably neater, which is nice, because Chan has been known to be overly meticulous. Felix has an aesthetic opposite of his own, more colorful and he still has plenty of trinkets lined on the shelves in his bedroom. But his bed is made, and his laundry is actually in the basket near the door. There are a few moving boxes still stacked by the closet, but overall everything appears to be in its place.

He really only gets a few seconds to take everything in, though, because Felix tugs him further into the room and pushes him down on the bed, where he falls back before sitting up, looking up at Felix. He stands between Chan’s legs, fingers skimming through his hair. Chan looks him up and down, and finds his confidence enough to push at Felix’s t-shirt until Felix takes the hint and pulls it over his head. He doesn’t let himself be the only one, though, he’s quick to get Chan out of his tank top too.

“Shit,” Felix murmurs. He touches himself then, squeezes his dick through his jeans.

Chan shivers, and he shimmies himself out of his own jeans. The tension mounts, and Felix doesn’t have to say anything for Chan to feel how much he wants this. His eyes are hungry, ravenous. Chan is not blind to the fact that his body looks good, but Felix looks at him like he wants to consume him. 

“You’re so hot,” Chan says, because he’s pretty sure his brain isn’t working and that’s all he can think of to say. He smooths his hand down Felix’s body, from the center of his chest down his stomach, to where his jeans sit low on his hips. He’s quite lean, visible abs and a slight frame. Chan has spent the past several years bulking up, but Felix has the body of a dancer.

Chan touches along the hair that leads from Felix’s navel into his pants. He’s about to get Felix out of said pants, spit welling on his tongue, when Felix speaks again. “Wanna know a secret?” he asks, and Chan blinks away from where Felix is holding the bulge of his erection.

“Huh?”

“Do you remember the guy you were dating in high school?”

Chan has to collect himself before he can respond. He’s horny beyond words, and Felix is asking him to recall a high school fling? “Um. I guess so, yeah? I only had one boyfriend from high school.”

“Your first?”

“My first boyfriend, yeah. I mean, it wasn’t that serious. We were just…it was high school, yeah?” Chan says. “Why?”

“One time,” Felix says, carefully, like he’s considering if he should even actually divulge the secret at all. “You were gone all day with him. And, honestly, I was trying to convince myself I didn’t care. I don’t really remember what was going on that day, but I remember being up late in my room, and seeing the headlights from my window. So I went over and looked out the window, and I saw the two of you down in the driveway.”

Chan remembers that night, now that Felix describes it. But the house was dark when they had pulled up. Felix must have been up with his lights off in his bedroom. Peering through his second floor bedroom window, watching them sit there in the car. He’d been so caught up, he wouldn’t have even thought to look towards Felix’s window.

“You were watching us?”

Felix hums, and reaches out, tucks a strand of Chan’s hair off his forehead. Then, his fingers trace along his lips, his thumb pressing into his lower lip.

“I watched him kiss you,” Felix admits softly. His thumb moves, Chan’s hands fumble with Felix’s fly. His face heats up, then his body, red surely streaking down his chest as he gets Felix’s pants undone. They’re baggy already, and it’s easy to pull them down. They pool at his ankles, but he doesn’t move to step out of them.

“Felix…”

“You kissed him back, and I saw the way he put his hands in your hair,” Felix continues. Chan holds him by his hips, and Felix slides his thumb into his mouth, pushing against his tongue. “I watched him touch you. Watched you try to get closer to him. And—and I wished…well, I was jealous.”

“I—”

“Shh…” Felix smears spit along his lower lip now, and Chan tries to stop himself from drooling, but Felix just lets it happen, rubs it into his skin, down his neck. Chan looks back down, but Felix tilts his head up again. “Look at me.”

“I remember you came downstairs once I came in,” Chan says, recalling them making too much noise, the way Felix seemed to open up, the redness on his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” Felix says. “I touched myself while I watched you,” he adds, like it’s a totally normal thing to say. “I came thinking about you. Watching you.”

“Oh my god.”

“Kissing you is better than I imagined it would be.”

A full-body shudder passes through him, and he drags Felix down into a kiss. Felix makes a sound of surprise into his mouth, braces one knee on the bed next to Chan, and Chan circles his waist, feels the press of his cock against his abdomen as Felix licks deep into his mouth. He can feel Felix try to push him back, but Chan resists.

Instead, he breaks the kiss and pulls Felix’s underwear down abruptly. They left little to the imagination, but his breath still catches in his throat as Felix’s cock springs free. He pushes the offending garment all the way down, steps the rest of the way out of the jeans and kicks both away, so the only thing left on him is his blue socks.

And his cock…Chan groans, wraps a hand around him. He’s bigger than Chan expected he’d be. Not massive, but Chan knows himself. He’s sensitive. Sensitive, but he likes giving head. And it’s been a while, and Felix is perfect. There’s something about the beauty of him, his androgynous features and the softness of his face, to the hard lines of his lean muscle, and the curve of his hard cock against where he’s unshaven, dark hair and his cock flushed with arousal.

“I wanna suck your cock,” Chan says, giving him a dry stroke. His own cock twitches, still trapped in his boxers.

“Are you sure?”

“Very. I like it.”

Felix licks his lips. Chan can see the nerves on his face, the need, the human insecurities that someone like Felix really never should feel.

“Has it been a long time?” Felix asks, and Chan looks up at him, sticks his tongue out and slaps Felix’s cock against it. “Fuck,” he spits.

“Been a while, yeah,” Chan admits. He licks a stripe up the length, tastes the precum beading at the head. “I dunno. I just like the feeling, I guess. I’m usually kind of…particular, yeah? But, what can I say? I like the taste. I like to gag a little bit.”

Felix stares at him for a beat, one second, then two. “That’s gay,” he finally says, deadpan.

Chan laughs, and then Felix smiles down at him. “Shut up, you’re such a cunt,” Chan mutters. 

“Sorry. Please proceed.”

Chan gives him a dirty look, all teasing, and lets spit well in his mouth before he moves back in and lets it drip from his tongue down the length of Felix’s dick. He strokes him with it before sucking at the head, kissing it until his lips feel sticky from precum. Felix pets his hair, longer now than he’s ever worn it, and he can feel where it begins to curl against the back of his neck.

His eyes flutter shut, and he focuses on the feeling of it all instead. Felix moans, and Chan echos the sound, sucks Felix down deeper until his cock hits his throat when he bobs his head. There are wandering touches along his neck, over his shoulders, against his back. Felix explores while Chan deepthroats him, his hands kneading against the muscles of Chan’s back. In return, Chan reaches around and grips Felix’s ass.

“Chris,” Felix moans, and Chan shivers. Again, he’s struck by how long it’s been since someone called him Chris. Only a few old friends call him Chris. Besides, of course, his family. But it’s nice. Nostalgic. Familiar. “Chris, fuck, you’re so good at this.”

When he opens his eyes, he finds Felix’s head tilted back, eyes to the ceiling. He blinks as he swallows around the cock in his mouth, eyes wet, and Felix’s hips kick forward. Chan gags, a sickening sound in the room. He sucks through it, and Felix looks back at him.

Their eyes meet, and the weight of it all settles on Chan again. What they’re doing. Who they are. What this means.

He pulls off with a gasp, and Felix stares down at him, eyes hazy and lips parted.

“Did you ever blow him like that?”

Chan realizes Felix is still talking about his first boyfriend. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Um. I dunno. I think so. Wasn’t so good at it back then.”

“Did you fuck him?”

Chan shifts, and Felix pushes his shoulder until he shifts back on the bed. Felix goes with him, crawls forward and hovers slightly over Chan. It’s hard to think, to bring back memories he’s since moved on from, but he manages, even under Felix's intense gaze. He knows it’s just dirty talk, he could say anything he wanted, but he’s always been a little too honest.

“Um. I mean, he fucked me. Once. After graduation. We weren’t really together like that anymore by then…but. Yeah.”

“Shit,” Felix says, eyes wide. “Really?”

Chan laughs, even though he feels a blush rising on his skin. “Yeah.” Felix hovers there for a moment more. Chan squirms. Maybe admitting that was a turn off. Maybe that wasn’t the answer Felix was looking for. The truth is, it was a fumbling mess of an experience. It was two people who didn’t know what they were doing. He’s come a long way since then. Or, at least, he hopes he has. “I can—I can take care of you, like you said. However you want it.”

Overexplaining himself is one of his specialties, and he’s fully prepared to do it now if he has to, but Felix surges in and kisses him, so he doesn’t really have to. They fall together onto the pillows, limbs tangling, Felix’s hand on his thigh, up, up, up, until he’s shoving it down Chan’s boxers and stroking his cock. Chan’s back bends off the bed, and Felix moans into his mouth.

“Get these fucking off,” Felix grunts, but he doesn’t exactly give Chan the room to do it. Instead, he starts kissing down his neck, sucking and biting, and Chan just lets him, fuck it if there are marks tomorrow. “Do you live at the gym? Fuck. Fuck,” Felix continues, his lips trailing down, until he’s sucking Chan’s nipple into his mouth.

“Lix—”

“Hmm?” Felix looks at him through his lashes, sucks harder. Then he bites, and Chan gasps. He feels like a live wire, on the edge. Sparking and bursting with energy. He scrapes his nails against Felix’s arms and back. Hooks a leg over him, tries to draw him in closer. He can feel the scratch of the hair on Felix’s legs against the smooth skin of his own, and Felix hums a sound of appreciation. “Your tits are so big,” Felix says suddenly, and he sits up, squeezing Chan’s pecs with both hands. “Do you think I could fuck them?”

“I don’t—” Chan cuts off, breathless, half laughing, “I don’t know, no one has ever tried.”

“Lame,” Felix says. “Anyway, I probably won’t last if I do.” And with that, he pulls Chan’s boxers down and off, tossing them aside and staring down at him. “God, I knew your dick would be big.”

“Spent a lot of time thinking about it?”

“Yeah. You have no idea.”

“I’m starting to get it.”

“No. You don’t. I fantasized about you taking my virginity,” Felix whispers. “Fantasized about you teaching me how to suck your cock. Thought about all the ways you could have me. You sneaking into my room. How I would have let you do whatever you wanted to me.”

“Wow. I didn’t know you had such an active imagination back then.”

“I still do,” Felix says confidently. He nudges Chan’s thighs apart then, and settles between his legs. Grinds against him, slow rolls of his hips. Chan moves to meet him, and they sigh in unison. Chan tucks his face against Felix’s neck, breathes him in, the smell of citrus, vanilla, and sweat. “There’s too many options. I don’t even know what I wanna do.”

Chan licks along the side of Felix’s neck. “It feels good,” he says. They kiss again, slower now. When he speaks again, their lips still touch, breath shared as they rut against each other. “You on me like this.”

“I missed you,” Felix says. “Wish we had been doing this sooner.”

“Yeah? Family reunion and gay sex with your step brother?”

Felix huffs, slaps Chan on the outside of his thigh. “Maybe, yeah. Cunt.”

“If you—if you keep going like that I’m gonna cum,” Chan admits, one particularly good roll of Felix’s hips making him tense with pleasure.

“Not yet,” Felix says firmly.

Then, he stops, moves around on the bed and crawls over to open his bedside drawer. Chan watches him, the way he stretches and twists to reach. The arch of his back and small curve of his ass. Chan reaches and cups his balls, and Felix yelps, gives him a dirty look before Chan smiles and skims his touch over Felix’s hip instead.

“Hurry up,” he says.

“I can’t find my fucking condoms,” Felix says with a sigh. He tosses a bottle of lube out of the drawer, and it lands near Chan’s head. “Hold on.”

And then Felix is running out of the room, and Chan laughs at the sight of him. “What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts.

“Maybe they’re in a box!”

“We can—I mean—” 

He stops. That’s too much, isn’t it? They don’t even really know each other. They do, but they don’t. 

Still, Felix comes back a minute later, still hard, face red, biting his lip. “We can what?”

“I’m always responsible, and I haven’t had sex in a while so. You know. I mean, I’m just saying, we could do it raw. If you wanted.”

“Ah, always responsible, huh?”

“What? Are you not?”

“I am, I’m clean. Do you like it? Without a condom.”

“Sure, who doesn’t?”

Felix rolls his eyes.

“Okay. Fine. Yeah, I’m so normal about this.”

Felix gets back on the bed. Grabs the lube. Chan swallows, and Felix touches him, jerks him off too slow to get him off. “Come kiss me,” Chan says, and it comes out a lot like an order. Felix pops the cap on the lube, and Chan’s chest rises and falls fast. He’d like to open Felix up himself, but he’s not opposed to watching Felix do it, either. He doesn’t get to voice that, because Felix follows his order, drapes himself back over Chan and kisses him.

Chan holds him, his waist, at his neck, grips him by the ass. He spreads Felix’s ass, and Felix bites his lower lip. “Dirty,” Felix says, and before Chan can say anything, Felix spits in his mouth, and Chan swears he almost cums. His whole body tenses, and Felix holds him by the jaw, fingers pressing, eyes dark. He does it again, the slow drip of spit from his lips onto Chan’s tongue, and Chan’s eyes roll back.

When Felix releases him, Chan swallows.

Felix fumbles around, spills lube onto his fingers and the sheets. Chan feels like someone has speared him, cut him open, is digging around inside and rearranging him. “That was hot,” he whispers, because Felix suddenly looks nervous.

“Was it?”

“Uh huh. I liked it.”

“You like when someone spits in your mouth?”

“Yeah. I guess. Apparently,” Chan says. He shrugs. “Maybe it’s just you.”

Felix licks his lips. “Spread your legs.”

Chan does, not really thinking much about it. He starts to try to bring Felix in again. Reaches back and runs his hand down his back, then back up. Slips the same hand between them, over Felix’s cock, brushing over his balls, and his taint. Right then, as Chan teases over where he must be sensitive, Felix reaches between his legs instead, and his finger prods against Chan’s hole.

Instantly, his body reacts. He tenses, legs jerking, and he’s pretty sure Felix can feel his hole clench around nothing. If it’s been a long time since he’s gotten laid, it’s been even longer since he bottomed. Not that he’s opposed to it, not at all. He prepared for it, in case. Didn’t know what Felix—Yongbok—would like. They didn’t talk about it, after all.

He did assume, though.

Maybe it was something he said. The comment about that first boyfriend. Or maybe Felix always tops. Chan hasn’t bottomed since college, probably. Hasn’t really thought much about it. Takes care of the urge himself, if he has it.

“You okay?” Felix asks, and Chan blinks.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he murmurs. “Just surprised me.”

Felix smiles. Kisses his jaw, near his ear, then his mouth, soft and too sweet. “Gonna be a good big brother and let me inside?”

Felix is teasing, dragging out the joke that isn’t really a joke, and Chan hates himself for how much he likes it. He thought he’d be the one fucking Felix, but he’s not disappointed. There’s something about this, his Felix, lithe with a sharp tongue, taking him this way. It’s not something he would give to just anyone. Not something he’d want from just anyone.

So he relaxes against the sheets, and Felix presses two fingers into him at once, the lube still cool. Chan searches for more, he can take it, cock flexing and leaking against his abs. Felix looks between them, slowly fucks his fingers in and out, the squelch of lube making Chan’s face burn.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Felix says.

“For you,” he breathes.

Felix grits his teeth, and Chan opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue. Invites it. Felix spits, lewd and without any preamble. When they kiss, it’s sloppy. Felix fucks him, crooks his fingers just right. He must know what he’s doing, must do this often enough. His fingers graze Chan’s prostate, and it makes him cry out.

Too sensitive. Too overwhelmed.

It’s rare that anyone makes him feel this way. So utterly alive. So unashamed, even though he should be feeling shame. They shouldn’t do this. It’s fucked up, but why does it feel so good?

There’s some stretch of time where Felix just fingers him, and Chan loses himself in it. Succumbs to whatever this is. He’s almost surprised when Felix withdraws his touch, his fingers. Their bodies stick together with sweat, and he can feel the tackiness of precum, either from himself or Felix, he isn’t sure.

“What?” Chan asks, when Felix leans away. His fingers shine with lube.

“You’re just—I don’t know. I…like you. That’s all,” Felix says. “But turn over. I’m gonna nut immediately if I look at your face.”

“That’s so romantic, thank you,” Chan deadpans, but he sits up, turns over. Lays down like that, hands tucks under Felix’s pillows that smell like him. 

“Ugh,” Felix says with a loud sigh. “Nevermind, this is worse.”

“What is?”

Chan looks over his shoulder.

Felix is looking at his ass.

“Oh,” he says, and Felix meets his eyes.

When they laugh, it feels like something. Is it delusional to think it feels like love?

“It’s so fucking rude that you’re so hot. And you have fat ass. Like. What the fuck,” Felix drones, hands clapping down hard over Chan’s ass, before they drag upwards, to the smallest point of his waist, then over his back. “And your back. I’m gonna cum all over it.”

“Oh my god.”

“Lift your hips.”

He does, and he turns his face back into the pillow. Listens as Felix gets more lube, the slick sound of him jerking himself off with it. Briefly, he tenses again with anticipation. Even though he feels like he’s on fire, even though he’s sweating and even though he’s not sure how Felix could even find him sexy like this, he relaxes. Relaxes and lets Felix in.

Felix slaps his cock against his hole, and then he pushes in, nice and slow. Chan’s moans, his words, his thoughts, all get stuck in his throat. He makes a choked off sort of sound into the pillow, and Felix sucks in a sharp breath of air behind him.

He’s saying something, something about how tight he is, how good it feels, but Chan isn’t really listening. It’s been so long since he’s felt full like this. Since he’s had anything other than his own fingers. And Felix presses into him slow, fills him up just the way he likes it. When his hips are flush, when he’s all the way inside, Chan almost laughs as he considers how it’s like Goldilocks. Felix is perfect. Not too big, not too small. Just right. 

“Chris,” Felix says, moans, pleads. His name, Felix’s voice saying his name, brings him back into himself.

“Fuck me.”

“Feels good?”

“Yeah. Yes. Please.”

Felix curses, and he starts off slow. The room is warm, sweat wetting the back of his neck, and Chan spreads his legs further, presses back to try and urge Felix along. It doesn’t seem like he needs much more encouragement than that. The movement of his hips is fluid, easy, practiced. Chan moans as he pulls out and fucks back into him. As the pace picks up, their skin slaps together, and Chan reaches between his legs to tug at his cock.

Felix is no doubt smaller than him, Chan knows he’s the stronger one between them, but Felix presses between his shoulder blades, and it feels like he’s completely pinned. His back arched, his chest to the mattress. Face in the pillows. Felix leans closer, fucks him harder. The change in angle makes him graze Chan’s prostate, and he squeezes the base of his cock as he feels himself get dangerously close to orgasm.

“You look so good like this,” Felix says. His voice sounds strained, his accent thicker. “Never would’ve thought you were such a fucking slut.”

Chan chokes on a moan, slides his hand down his dick, only to feel Felix bat his hand away. It’s worse when Felix touches him. Worse when Felix squeezes his ass with his other hand, slaps him there just hard enough to make it sting.

“I’m gonna—Lix—”

“Gonna what?” Felix asks. He slows his movements, palms over the head of Chan’s dick. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet. Making a mess, huh?”

Chan trembles, clenches hard around Felix. He isn’t going to last. Desperate, he works himself back onto Felix’s cock, shifts to try and get the angle right again. Felix plays with his cock, light strokes and teasing brushes over the head that aren’t quite enough to get him off. The pillow is damp under him, wet against his cheek when he turns his head. From tears or drool, he isn’t sure.

“Lix, come on,” he says. “Fuck me, baby.”

Felix’s hips stutter. He rubs the tips of his fingers over Chan’s cock again, and then they’re gone, and when Chan strains to look at him, Felix is sucking his fingers into his mouth. He looks ethereal. Like a wet dream. Eyes closed, face flushed. Blond hair sticking to his face and neck. Their eyes meet and Felix smiles, his fingers sliding out of his mouth with a wet pop.

“Tastes good,” he says, and Chan turns to bury his face back in the pillow. “What? Don’t get shy now, not when you’re leaking all over my bed.” He moves, now, fucking Chan again like he means it, with the intention of getting them over the edge. “If your cock weren’t so big, I’d think you had a cunt, that’s how wet you are.”

Chan makes a sound, a whine, a sob, and Felix holds his waist as he fucks him hard and dirty. 

Felix touches him again, jerks him off quick. Chan’s muscles twitch, his thighs shake. His warnings that he’s close are lost in the pillow, and he feels as Felix begins to lose his rhythm. 

“Come on,” Felix groans. “Cum on my dick, daddy.”

And then he’s cumming, his body tensing and his cock twitching in Felix’s hand as he spills onto the bedsheets below him. His orgasm feels earth-shattering, wracking through him in waves as Felix continues to fuck him. He’s saying something, moaning loud and deep, but Chan can’t really hear him over his ears ringing and his own heavy breathing.

Sensitivity always sets in fast, but Felix continues to touch him, continues to fuck him. It’s haphazard now, rougher and uncoordinated. But Felix strokes his dick until Chris has to grab his wrist to get him to stop. Felix whines, and then he pulls out abruptly, and Chan falls flat to the mattress. Behind him, he can hear Felix jerking off.

He looks back, and Felix has his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he fists his cock frantically. His head tilts back, abs tensing. 

“Fuck, Chris.”

Spurts of cum streak across his back as Felix cums, hot and sticky. He feels it up near his shoulders and down near his ass, and then he feels Felix drag his cock between his ass, the head against his hole but not quite pressing back inside. Then he sighs, and Chan echoes the sound.

Felix kisses his shoulder, and then the back of his neck, and Chan tilts his head to the side again so they can kiss properly. It’s not the best angle, and after a moment, Felix is laughing into his mouth and falling onto the bed beside him.

“That was crazy,” Chan says.

“Was it too much?” Felix asks, but he sounds so fucked out, Chan doubts he’s actually looking for constructive criticism. Not that Chan has any.

“No. No, it was really good.”

“Sick.”

Chan laughs, and shifts on the bed. “Um. Do you have a towel or something?”

“Oh! Yeah. Hold on,” Felix says, suddenly very alert. Chan watches him jump up and run bare-ass naked out of the room. He rolls onto his side, away from the wet spot he’s laying in.

Felix returns not long after, with a towel in his hands and two bottles of water that he puts on the nightstand. They’re quiet as Felix directs Chan back to his front and wipes him down, only for them to trade off so Chan can wipe himself the rest of the way down, and then so they can push the top blanket off the bed and onto the floor.

Once that’s done, Felix chugs half his bottle of water, and Chan wonders if he’s supposed to leave now. That’s probably proper etiquette. Only, Felix looks at him with his wide eyes, and smiles, and Chan has a feeling Felix wants him to stay.

“God, I haven’t topped in, like, forever,” Felix says with another sigh. “Not with a guy, anyway.”

“Huh?”

Felix tucks his hands under his pillow, makes a face when he realizes it’s where Chan was probably drooling, flips the pillow over, then looks up at him. “What?”

“I thought—I mean, you seemed like you knew what you were doing?”

“Well, yeah, I know how it all works,” Felix says with a shrug. Chan sits up straighter. “Why? Did you think I was a top?”

“Yeah kinda?”

Felix snorts, then full on laughs in his face. “You’re funny.”

“I’m not being funny. I thought—I mean, I figured at first that you wanted me to…but…”

Felix stares at him long and hard, like he’s doing mental math or something. “Oh. Wait, do you top?”

“I mean, I’m down for whatever.”

“Oh my god. You’re such a people pleaser.”

“Says the bottom who just fucked me.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “I’m bi, idiot. I fuck girls, too. I’m not exclusively a bottom.”

And again, they go silent before Felix cracks a smile and Chan dissolves into laughter. Felix sits up next to him, and between laughing at the ridiculous situation they’ve gotten themselves in, Felix kisses him so tenderly that he’s afraid he might get emotional. Felix settles himself next to him, brushes his hand along the side of Chan’s face. The low bedroom light somehow still suits Felix. His hair is a mess, and Chan brushes a hand against where it sticks up.

“So. Like, in theory, can you get it up again?” Felix asks.

“What? Now?”

“Yeah.” Felix drags a hand down his chest, and cups his dick gently. Chan hisses, and Felix looks up at him like he’s totally innocent. “I want you to fuck me.”

And he’s sensitive, always is, but they might never see each other again after this. He’s certainly not going to say no. Even if they do see each other again after this, what are the chances they don’t pretend this never happened? Maybe for once, they’ll all get together for the holidays. Maybe Chris won’t pretend he’s too busy to see his dad, and Felix will be home visiting too. Maybe they’ll sit around the dinner table, not quite meeting each other’s eyes. 

Or, they’ll just go on as they have been. Distant acquaintances, not acknowledging what ties them together. Keeping their lives separate. Forgetting about tonight, and how all of this feels a little bit too right.

Felix kisses him, and slides his way into Chan’s lap. Chan holds him tighter than he should, hands around Felix’s waist, low against his back, as Felix teases his cock. The oversensitivity slowly morphs into pleasure, and Chan moves his hand further down, slides his finger over Felix’s hole. Felix moans, and Chan gasps when they pull apart.

There’s not much of a chance to think, because Felix licks up his neck, over his shoulder. His teeth scrape skin, and when he bites, Chan just closes his eyes and melts back against the headboard. He can feel Felix sucking a mark against his pectoral, and then another at the crook of his neck. His hand has gone still, too distracted to continue his own teasing, and Felix pushes his arm up, licks another fat stripe over the swell of his bicep.

“Are you trying to eat me?” he asks.

Felix bites his arm. Hard. “Maybe so. You don’t have very good survival instincts though. You’re like limp spaghetti right now,” he says, and Chan laughs.

“Yeah, that’s it. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

“Mm. All this muscle and I’m supposed to ignore it?” Felix asks. This time, he licks right from Chan’s pec, all the way over his armpit, and up his arm. He yelps, and Felix slaps him on the outside of his thigh. “You taste good.”

And even though, yeah, he does kind of feel like limp spaghetti, he grips Felix’s hips and flips them, satisfied with the sound of surprise Felix makes as his back hits the mattress. “Be good,” he says, and Felix leans up, bites his lower lip hard enough to sting.

“You’ll have to show me how, daddy.”

“Fuck.”

“Was gonna ask if you liked that, but I can tell you do,” Felix says softly. His legs move, wrap tight around Chan’s waist. “You’re hard again.”

He is, slowly rutting against Felix’s dick. “I think—I think I just like you,” he admits, and Felix’s smug expression changes slightly, to something like surprise. He said it too, earlier, a crack of vulnerability, but Chan worries he’s scared him off, as he so often has in the past with others.

It’s the same fear he had when they started talking weeks ago. That he would be too much. That he’d end up falling so hard and fast that it would shatter him.

Felix doesn’t say anything. He just brings Chan in and kisses him, heels pressing into Chan’s back and nails digging into his shoulders. Their skin sticks together, bodies slotting against each other. They could get lost in this. Lost together.

Chan slaps around on the bed for the lube, unwilling to stop kissing Felix to find it. Felix, though, is not so patient. He grunts, turns to the side and manages to figure out where it ended up before shoving it into Chan’s hands.

“Honestly,” he says. “You could just put it in. Make me take it.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I know you are. Maybe I wanna finger you. Make it last a little.”

Felix rolls his eyes, like he’s actually a little bit annoyed, but he relaxes and drops his legs back to the bed anyway. Truthfully, there’s a lot Chan wants to do. He wants to give Felix head until he’s cumming in his mouth. He wants to eat him out, let Felix sit on his face. Wants to make him cum just with his fingers. Get him on the edge just to stop and see how he squirms. He wants to hold him down and ride him, until they’re both desperate.

Even too much wouldn’t be enough.

You’re just lonely, his brain reminds him. This can’t actually mean anything. 

But it feels like it does. Perhaps they can just live in the fantasy for a few more hours.

Chan spills too much lube onto his fingers, sits back between Felix’s legs to tease over his rim, and it doesn’t take much at all before he can slide a finger into him. His back arches off the bed, and he slides a hand down his own chest, gives his cock a few tugs before his hand slides back up his body. 

He must know how good he looks. Gone is the shy, awkward side of him. Or maybe it’s still there, buried under Felix’s beautiful exterior and cocky little smirk. Yongbok told him he was nervous for them to meet. Chan recalls his own nerves, and how he’s fairly certain his teenage confidence has worn off. He thought he was invincible then. Now he’s too self aware. More sure of who he is, but also more aware of his insecurities.

So even though Felix is beautiful, even though he’s grown up, there are probably still pieces of the old him left behind.

With two fingers inside now, Felix gasps, and Chan lifts his leg to kiss his calf, his ankle.

“Your eyebrows do this thing,” Felix says suddenly. “When you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking.”

“You’re a bad liar, too,” Felix says. “Are you, like, getting in your head about this?”

“No.”

“Then fuck me. Stop playing around.”

“I thought I told you to behave.”

“Yeah, but when have I ever listened to anything you told me?” Felix asks. He shifts on the bed, and Chan slides his fingers out of him. All he ever did for Felix before was try to offer him advice. Advice that never seemed to sink in. That, and most of their interactions consisted of Chan teasing him. Poking at him and trying to break through the walls Felix had up. In hindsight, that probably pissed Felix off the most. 

“Apparently there were some things I could have told you that you’d have listened to,” Chan counters. His face feels hot at the implications, but Felix just grins. He moves his foot until he’s brushing over Chan’s dick, rubbing it up and down.

“Maybe. If you’d asked me to get on my knees. But honestly it was kinda hot when you’d get all bossy with me. Even if you made me mad.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you mad.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna fuck me or just sit there while we reminisce through dirty talk?”

Chan grabs Felix’s ankle, then the other, presses his legs up towards his chest. “Fine. Hold yourself open for me.”

“Yes, daddy,” he says, shit-eating little grin on his face. 

Chan’s jaw clenches and he spills more lube into his hand, slicks his cock until it’s entirely wetter than it needs to be. Felix is, for once, obedient as Chan gets closer, leans over him, and positions himself. He knows he’s not small, so he goes slow. And Felix takes him easily, his breath catching when Chan slips inside.

“Oh fuck,” Felix says. “You’re so fucking big.”

“Shut up.”

“God, you’re splitting me open,” Felix moans, not listening, neck bared, hands at the back of his thighs. Chan covers one hand with his own, and Felix bends easily. He takes it easily, too, as Chan pushes himself in the rest of the way.

The room feels electric. Felix breathes out like he is somehow complete like this, and Chan guides his legs apart, lays himself between them so they can kiss. It’s sloppy, Felix gasping, reaching around and gripping Chan by the ass. He squeezes, and Chan smiles into the kiss, until Felix slaps his ass hard enough that it stings.

“Fucking move,” Felix hisses.

“You want it?”

“Yes,” Felix says. “Want you to fuck me. Cum inside me. Fill me up.”

“Don’t say shit like that.”

“I mean it.” Felix clenches hard around him, and Chan groans, mouth at Felix’s neck before he starts to move. With one orgasm already passed, he doesn’t feel like he’s going to bust immediately this time. Which is good, because being inside Felix feels incredible. Perfect.

He’s sure it’s far past midnight by now. Certain they’ll both regret this when the sun has risen. But right now, there’s nothing else he wants more. Maybe he says as much, because Felix says his name. Chris, Chris please. Whines higher than Chan has ever heard his voice go.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he says.

“Yes,” Felix’s thighs squeeze around his waist. Chan fucks him harder, faster, touches across his skin anywhere he can reach. “Aren’t I—aren’t I made to take your cock? It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Fingered myself open for you before our date. Wanted it so bad.”

“Lix—”

“Yeah, love when you call me that, daddy. Fuck.” Felix arches, and Chan kisses down his neck before Felix kisses him properly, sucks on his tongue like it’s his dick. He moans like a porn star, but Chan is pretty sure it’s genuine. He just likes it that much.

Chan pulls out slower, snaps his hips forward hard enough to jostle Felix up the bed. They’re close enough that he can feel Felix’s cock twitch against his abs, and when he puts one of Felix’s legs over his shoulder, it must do something for the angle, because Felix cries out. If he had any sanity left, he might be worried about the neighbors, if the walls are thin here, but as it is he’s pretty sure he’s lost it. There’s nothing else but this.

It’s so easy to bend Felix however he wants. He presses his leg further up towards his chest, as far as it’ll go, and it has to hurt, but Felix just takes it. His mouth hangs open when Chan leans up so he can drive himself in, in, in. His hips slap against Felix’s ass, loud, obscene, lewd. 

“Chris,” Felix whines. He scratches down Chan’s back. “Chris, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” Chan let’s go of Felix’s leg to lean in closer, caress along his face, fingers tangling in his hair. “You like that?”

Felix manages a garbled sort of response, and when his eyes flutter open, they’re wet with unshed tears. “I—I did think it sounded like you. On the phone. When we were talking,” he says. “I remembered your voice and—and your laugh. Fuck.” 

“You’re so—”

“I wanted it to be you.”

“Fucking—”

“Fuck, Chris, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Felix moves to reach for his cock, but Chan grabs him, pins his wrist to the bed by his head. His eyes water even more, and Chan leans down just as the tears fall. Kisses him, drinks down the sobs. “I want you to cum on my dick,” he says into Felix’s mouth. “Untouched, yeah?”

“I can’t,” Felix gasps. “I need—”

“You can. That’s what you wanted right? Me to take care of you? Then you can fucking take it.”

Felix moans. Cries. Chan fucks him faster, feels himself getting close, really fucking close. Sweat drips down his nose onto Felix’s face, and Felix’s tongue darts out like he wants to taste it. His hand flexes where Chan pins him down, but his other hand reaches across and overlaps Chan’s. He tugs, and Chan relents, lets Felix pull his hand away and towards his throat instead.

Somehow, Felix seems to know exactly which buttons to push. Chan lets his legs slip from his shoulders, and Felix wraps them back around his waist, heels against his ass. His lips turn up into a smirk, and Chan knows that he’s more in control than he lets on.

“Choke me,” he says, and Chan shifts, grips his neck, squeezes gently.

“Such a little slut, look at you. Begging for it.”

“Just for you,” Felix rasps. “Cum in me, wanna feel it. Wanna be yours. Wanna feel it leaking out of me.”

Chan squeezes around his neck harder, chokes him until Felix surely can’t breathe. Maybe he’ll bruise. But Chan knows what he’s doing, this isn’t his first time, and it all peaks, coming together in a perfect crescendo of pleasure then. Just as he gives Felix air again, Felix curses, tenses.

Chan cums then, the feeling of Felix tightening around him, the look on his face, it’s too much. He slams in, rolls his hips as he spills inside, and as Felix shoots over his own stomach. They ride it out slow and dirty, grinding into each other, lips sliding sloppy and wet against each other. It’s just an exchange of breath and spit, and then Felix goes limp under him, his legs falling to the side, and his arms curling around Chan, keeping him close.

Chan huffs, breathing against Felix’s overheated skin. Once he manages to enter a state of slight clarity, he kisses Felix’s neck, feels as Felix begins to stroke his back. Up, down. Up, down.

“How—how did you know I was into choking?” Chan asks. “Did you, like, go onto my computer and look at my porn history?”

Felix laughs. His voice sounds a little bit wrecked. “What? When would I have done that?”

“Like, back then.”

“No, maybe we’re just that compatible,” Felix says. He scratches lightly against Chan’s back now. He shivers, and leans up so they can look at each other. “Have I given you the impression that I’m that much of a pervert?”

“Um. I mean, kinda?” Chan offers, and Felix slaps him on the ass. Apparently, he must like doing that. Chan doesn’t exactly have any complaints.

“Rude. Insulting me with your dick still inside me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

“Oh, so you’re also a pervert?”

Chan smiles, and when he kisses Felix, he can almost taste the affection. Felix kisses back, and it threads on and on, stitching together until it’s something they’re not going to be able to walk away from. When Chan pulls away, he moves to pull out, but Felix just pouts. Still, he rolls away, and Felix hisses through his teeth.

“Fuck. You could have stayed inside. I don’t mind a little recreational cockwarming.”

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“I think you mentioned that already.”

Felix stretches out, limbs going in every direction. His cock is soft, his body shining with sweat and lube and cum. His hair is fanned out on his pillow, face still flushed. Chan can’t help but stare, there’s something hypnotic about him. The state Chan has put him in. He’s so effortlessly sexy, charming, funny.

When Felix turns and catches him staring, he only stares back. Eyes dripping down Chan’s body. Then he looks away, sighs, eyes closing like he has no intention of moving.

“I’m getting kinda gross and sticky,” Chan says, looking around for the towel Felix had brought in earlier.

“I don’t mind.”

“I came inside you. You’re also a little gross and sticky.”

“Mm.”

“We could shower?”

“That’s too much work. Round three? Are you into eating ass?”

“I hate you. And I think I’m tapped out for the night, yeah?”

Felix opens one eye, smiles again, then rolls over and gathers Chan up into an uncoordinated embrace, littering kisses all across his face, his neck. It hurts when Felix’s leg brushes his cock, but he doesn’t shy away. Instead, he lets himself be kissed. Lets himself get a little bit lost in the intimacy of it all, the familiarity they shouldn’t have.

Eventually, Felix sits up, pats Chan on the chest like he’s satisfied and gotten his fill. “Fine,” he says. “Come on, princess. Let’s shower.”

And so, even though they’re both wrung out, Chan allows himself to be pulled out of bed and led down the hall to the bathroom. He feels self conscious to be so naked now that they’re not in the middle of it, even though he’s usually comfortable without clothes. But Felix doesn’t seem to care, and this was Chan’s suggestion. So he doesn’t complain, just watches Felix adjust the water temperature and eventually pull the curtain aside so they can get in.

They wash up in relative silence, but the comfortable kind. Felix washes his hair, dark strands dripping down his back when they switch and he does Felix’s. Then they do a half-assed job washing their bodies, eyes tired, hands wandering. When they finish up, the soap washed away, neither of them have the energy to do much else besides towel dry and drag themselves back to the bedroom, wet hair and all.

“You’re staying the night, by the way,” Felix says, when Chan hesitates next to his discarded clothes.

“Okay. Yeah.”

“Do you have to be somewhere tomorrow?”

“I can work from home. And I never don’t show up, so honestly I could probably just take a sick day.”

“Good. No alarm then,” Felix says, and he turns down the sheets, even though they’re probably ruined now too. Normally, Chan might protest the mess, but he doesn’t tonight. Instead, he gets back in bed, shifts around until he’s comfortable. Felix flicks off the bedside lamp, and turns so he can cuddle closer.

“Sometimes I snore,” Chan warns him. “I have, like, breathing issues sometimes.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You say that now—”

“Shh. I let you nut in me. I don’t care if you snore.”

Chan smiles up at the dark ceiling. His eyes are heavy, and Felix’s hair tickles his neck. This is going to be complicated, messy, a little bit fucked up. None of this should have happened. But right now, on the edge of sleep, with Felix in his arms, none of that really matters. If it’s awkward in the morning, at least they had this.

Or, maybe, for once, Chan won’t be too much for someone. Maybe Felix likes too much. Maybe they can just be weird together, fucked up together. Would that really be so bad?

~

The sound of metal clattering and the sweet smell of something baking is what wakes Chan. He is disoriented at first, and he has a slight crick in his neck. When his eyes open, he squints against the sun spilling into the room, which is a stark contrast from the blackout curtains in his own bedroom. But he isn’t in his own bedroom, he quickly remembers. This is Felix’s bedroom. Felix’s apartment.

The only thing missing is Felix.

The other side of the bed is empty and cold when Chan runs his hand across the sheets. The digital clock on the nightstand tells him it’s nearly one in the afternoon, and Chan rubs his hand over his face. He has no idea where his phone is, but he finds it as soon as he sits up. It’s on the nightstand, plugged into a charger. Felix must have found it for him, or fished it out of his pants. Which, he finds also folded up at the foot of the bed with the rest of his clothes.

At first, his thoughts begin to spiral and dread sinks in. Is it a subtle hint that Felix wants him to get dressed and get out? Or was he just trying to be polite?

Chan reaches and grabs his boxers, shimmies them on and then pulls his tank top on from last night too. A glance at his phone and his unread messages tells him that Jisung is covering for him at the studio today. He did tell his friends about his date, so they must assume it either went really well, or really bad. Oh well. He’ll fill them in later.

Or not.

Another loud clattering sound and responding curse makes Chan jump, and he looks towards the open bedroom door before dragging himself out of bed and padding down the hallway.

The kitchen is a mess when he walks in.

Felix is standing at the counter, his hair tied up in a little bun, hands on his hips, staring down at a bowl that’s fallen on the floor. Luckily, it looks like it’s mostly empty, and Felix huffs before he bends down and picks it up. When he turns and puts it in the sink, he finally notices Chan standing there. His eyes get big, but then he smiles, brushes his hands over the front of his oversized t-shirt.

“You’re awake,” he says. “Sorry if I woke you. I was going to earlier, but you looked so peaceful.”

“Nah, um. It’s alright. Whatcha doin’?”

“Baking.”

“Oh. Baking what?”

“Cookies. I remembered that you really liked them. My mum used to make them, and somehow they'd always disappear when you were over. So I figured out you were eating them,” Felix explains. “Anyway, I like baking now, and I thought I would surprise you. So. Yeah. Surprise!”

Chan laughs, heat rising on his cheeks, ears likely already red. “Wow. I didn’t know, um, I mean…you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. There’s already some in the oven. So you can just sit your pretty ass down and wait.”

Chan walks closer, surveys the mess Felix has made of his kitchen. Another bowl of cookie dough is sitting on the counter, plastic wrap over the top, and there are various dishes piled in the sink. A bag of chocolate chips is open on the counter, and he pulls it forward to grab some. Felix stands there, watching him, even as he pops the chocolate into his mouth.

It’s not that it’s awkward. But there’s tension. Both of them seem to be waiting for something, maybe. Chan just doesn’t know what he should say. Clearly Felix doesn’t want him to leave just yet, even though he feels like he probably should be doing the walk of shame right about now.

“So…do you always bake cookies for your hookups?”

“No, not really,” Felix says.

“Just me, then?”

“Well, I like you.”

“Felix…”

“Don’t. Don’t say we shouldn’t. Don’t say you regret it,” Felix says quickly. “It’s not even that weird.”

“It’s a little weird,” Chan says. He looks down at his hands, grabs for one of the kitchen towels to wipe away where the chocolate melted slightly on his palm. When he puts it down, Felix is closer. Just like last night, sliding into his space. Into his head. Into his heart.

“Okay. So what. It’s fucking weird. Who cares?”

“Well, we probably should.”

“We didn’t grow up together,” Felix says. “I had a weird, gross, crush on you. We had weird, gross sex. And I still like you. So…so yeah. Who cares?”

“I dunno. I didn’t think it was gross. I thought it was kinda romantic.”

Felix stares at him. Those big brown eyes. Saying ‘no’ to him is probably a physically impossible task. And when Felix gets closer still, Chan just meets him in the middle. He hasn’t even brushed his teeth, he still has crazy morning hair, but Felix kisses him like they’ve been together for years. Like they know everything they need to know, and the rest of the world doesn’t matter.

Chan kisses him back much in the same way.

They only separate when the oven begins to beep at them, and Felix jumps away to take the cookies out before they start to burn. Felix puts on oven mitts that look entirely too big for him, and puts the tray of cookies on the stovetop. They still look gooey, all melted chocolate and warm dough. But the real treat is Felix, tossing his oven mitts away and turning back to Chan, effectively blocking the cookies so they have a chance to cool down.

“So,” Chan says, far too many thoughts in his head, “what do we do now?”

“What do you wanna do?”

“I…I want to see you again,” he admits. “After today. I don’t want to pretend this never happened.”

“We could go on a date. For real this time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We could…you know, eat some cookies. Maybe have sex again. Get cleaned up. You can borrow my clothes. They won’t fit but you’re hot enough that it doesn’t matter. We could see a movie. Or have dinner. I know a really cool arcade. Then we could come back here and finish the rest of the cookies,” Felix says. “Or you could bring me to your place.”

“Oh.”

“Then, like, we keep doing that.”

“I think I’m going to have a hard time being normal about you,” Chan blurts out, because telling Felix he might be almost in love with him already would be considerably worse. “But yes. To all of it. I—I want that.”

“Even if it’s weird.”

“Especially if it’s weird.”

Felix grins, a mischievous kind of expression that tells Chan that he’s probably about to say something unhinged. First, though, he drapes himself against Chan, arms around him, all warmth and light. “Good,” he says. His eyes sparkle. There’s a blip in time where Chan almost forgets there’s even a sliver of anything wrong or on the verge of fucked up. They’re teetering on the line of it, but he can easily bring himself to a point of not caring.

“Kiss me?”

Felix hums, and obliges. Seals their fate, right then and there. And then he leans away, and—

“So,” Felix kisses Chan’s neck, his breath tickling his ear lobe when he speaks, “what are we gonna tell Mum and Dad?”