Obviously

by exhale_now

Summary:

Obviously, this is all Jisung's fault.

It's Jisung's fault because he dared Felix to kiss Minho, and so he did - but now, he can't stop dreaming and thinking about his older brother's best friend in a way he never has before. Jisung finds the whole thing hilarious, Changbin isn't much help either, and Felix finds that Hyunjin is probably the most help to figure things out in the end.

Notes:

For my friend - you know who you are. I hope you enjoy this one <3

Some background that I allude to in the fic but don't really go into detail about. Chan moved to Korea before Felix did because their parents divorced when they were younger. Chan was in elementary when he moved to Korea with their dad while Felix stayed with their mom in Australia, and Felix didn't move to Korea until he was in high school.

Minho is beneath him, sprawled out on the rumpled sheets. His lips are red and kiss-swollen, parted as though he’s just taken a breath but no sound comes out. His eyes are wide and glassy as he looks up at Felix, looking as if he can’t decide whether to plead for more or protest. Felix knows that he should stop, that this shouldn’t happen, but he can’t make himself back away. Minho looks too good like this - with his skin flushed and a sheen of sweat glistening as his chest rises and falls rapidly, and his fingers twisted in the sheets as if he’s holding on for dear life.

 

Felix leans in, bracing himself on either side of Minho’s head. His hair falls forward, brushing against Minho’s face as it curtains around them, and Minho lets out a trembling exhale. “Yongbok-ah,” he whispers, his voice shaky as it sends a rush of heat through Felix’s veins.

 

“I’ve got you,” Felix murmurs, his voice low and rough in a way that he barely recognizes. He keeps himself braced over Minho with one arm, his other hand moving slowly as it ghosts over Minho’s sides before settling firmly on his waist. Minho presses into the touch, desperate for more.

 

“Please,” Minho breathes - his voice breaks on the word in a way that Felix wants to hear over and over. His hands come up, grabbing onto Felix’s shoulders as though it’s the only thing keeping him anchored.

 

Felix nudges his face against Minho’s jawline, making Minho tilt his head back and expose the long line of his throat. He leans in and kisses his way along the warm skin, his tongue brushing teasingly against it and humming at the faintly salty taste. Minho shudders, his hips bucking up helplessly as Felix’s mouth moves lower, teeth grazing against sensitive skin. “Hyung, you’re so-” Felix’s words break off into a groan as Minho’s nails dig into his shoulders as the soft, wrecked whimper that escapes Minho’s lips goes straight to his head.

 

Minho already looks wrecked beneath him, eyes glassy with tears that threaten to spill. “Please,” he pleads, his tone desperate and breathless. “I can’t- Yongbok.”

 

“You can take it,” Felix whispers, brushing his nose along the line of Minho’s jaw again as his grip tightens on Minho’s waist. He only lets go to help align their bodies perfectly before he pushes forward and Minho gasps, his head falling back again as the tip of his cock pushes into Minho.

 

Felix wants to ruin him, to watch Minho fall apart completely and see how far he can push until Minho is begging -

 

Felix wakes with a gasp, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that it feels like it might leave a bruise. For a moment, he’s not sure exactly where he is as the remnants of the dream cling to him like a second skin. The sensation of Minho’s warmth, the sound of his breathless voice, the sight of him flushed and trembling beneath him - all of it seems so real, still.

 

Felix sits up abruptly, his breath still coming in sharp gasps and his skin damp with sweat. The room is still dark, save for the faint glow of his phone screen on the nightstand still playing the ringtone that had woken him up, but his mind is racing, his body thrumming with an energy that he isn’t sure what to do with. “Holy shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his damp hair.

 

His chest feels tight as his body aches from the phantom sensations of the dream. He can still see Minho before him, hear the soft, pleading way he’d said his name - as if Felix was the only thing holding him together. Felix presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to force the images away but he finds that it doesn’t seem to work in his favor. The dream still feels real as he sits there, cheeks burning and heart racing. 

 

Obviously, it’s all Jisung’s fault.

 

Felix groans as he flops back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his face. He should have known that the stupid dare at the party was a bad idea. Kissing Minho? His older brother Chan’s best friend? It was just a bad idea. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It had just been Jisung being a chaos gremlin as usual. But the kiss had been good… really good, if he let himself admit it. It had been good enough to leave Felix blinking in a daze afterward while Minho had just smirked and taken a drink out of his cup like it was nothing.

 

Apparently, Felix’s subconscious hadn’t thought it was nothing.

 

Felix groans again as he grabs a pillow to cover his face with. “Stupid Jisung. Stupid dare,” he grumbles. But even as he says it, the lingering heat in his body betrays him. The damage is done and Felix doesn’t know what to do about it. Felix presses the pillow harder against his face, as if smothering himself might somehow erase the dream from his memory or stop the way that his body is reacting to it. Neither one of those things happen.

 

The heat pooling low in his stomach is impossible to ignore, his skin prickling with the remnants of the dream’s intensity. His entire body feels too tight, and when he shifts slightly the faintest friction of his clothes against his skin makes him gasp. He bites down on his lip to stifle the sound. “Fuck,” he whispers into the dark of his room, his voice rough and strained.

 

He drops the pillow from his face and stares at the ceiling. He doesn’t want this - doesn’t want to think about Minho or feel this way because of him. Minho’s his older brother’s best friend, someone that he’s known for ages. Cocky, infuriating, way too smug for his own good, and yet…

 

The way that Minho had looked in the dream flashes through his mind again. He can see Minho flushed, needy, and desperate as if Minho was actually in the room with him. He can’t turn off the sound of the way he’d begged - his voice soft and trembling as Felix’s name fell from his lips like a prayer. Felix groans as he drags a hand down his face, trying to shake off the image; but, it’s no use. It’s playing on a loop in his mind and the ache in his body only grows stronger.

 

“This is so stupid,” Felix mutters to himself, but his hand is already sliding under the waistband of his shorts.

 

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to pretend that it’s someone else, but it doesn’t work. The second his hand wraps around his leaking cock, the image of Minho resurfaces. Minho’s glossy, tear-filled eyes, his kiss-swollen lips parting, the way he’d arched into Felix’s touch, the sound of his voice raw and wrecked - all of it surrounds him as if it were truly happening.

 

Felix swears under his breath, his grip tightening as he strokes himself slowly. He doesn’t want to let this dream have power over him, but he can’t seem to stop himself either. HIs head falls back against the pillow as he picks up the pace, his breath hitching as he thrusts his hips up into his hand. The tension in his body builds rapidly, his mind replaying fragments of the dream in vivid detail. Minho’s lips, parted and swollen as he gasps for breath. His voice whispering Felix’s name. His body pliant and trembling under Felix’s hands.

 

Felix bites down on his lip, his free hand gripping the sheets as he chases his release. His heart pounds as his breath comes in short, shallow bursts and the heat coils tighter inside him, threatening to snap.

 

It’s with the memory of Minho’s gasp as dream-Felix pushed his length into him that Felix finally unravels, his back arching as he spills over his hand, leaving him trembling and spent. For a moment, he just lies there, trying to catch his breath as his body thrums with the aftershocks of his release. 

 

As soon as he is finally able to breathe normally, reality crashes down around him. “God,” Felix groans, covering his face with his arm. His cheeks burn as humiliation and guilt wash over him. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s just done or who he was thinking about while doing it, but the evidence is drying on his skin, leaving him feeling itchy. “This is Jisung’s fault,” Felix mutters again, his voice muffled by his arm over his face. He knows that it’s a flimsy excuse, but it’s the only thing he has to keep himself from going on a mental spiral.

 

He forces himself to get up and he goes to the bathroom to clean himself up. The cool water against his skin helps clear his head a little, but not nearly enough. The dream still lingers, vivid though not as all-consuming; but, still he knows that this is going to continue to haunt him.

 

After he climbs back into bed some time later, he stares at the ceiling, wide awake despite the late hour. “This is so Jisung’s fault,” he mutters yet again, more for his own reassurance than anything. But, deep down, he knows that it isn’t entirely Jisung’s fault. Because if Felix is being honest with himself, he can still feel the ghost of Minho’s touch and he knows that he’s never going to be able to look at Minho the same way again.

 

He doesn’t know how long he lays there awake before finally falling back asleep. When he wakes up again, the sun is up and Felix can hear the sounds of Chan in the kitchen making breakfast. A pang of guilt hits him and he winces as he sits up in his bed. Felix reaches over to grab his phone, checking to see who had called and woken him up in the first place. There was a missed call from Jisung and then a couple of text messages - the messages apologize for calling and say that Jisung had just wanted to make sure Felix made it home alright, but that Chan had messaged to say that he’d gotten Felix home.

 

Felix quickly replies to the message before setting his phone aside and grabbing a hair elastic off the bedside table. He uses it to tie back his hair before going out to the kitchen to see if Chan needs any help making breakfast. “Ay, yo, Chris, you-” Felix’s breath catches as his sentence halts to a stop and he stands there on the cold kitchen tile while his brain stumbles over itself to catch up. 

 

For a second, he can’t move or think. He can only stare at the figure standing by the stove, clad in a loose-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips. Minho is there in Felix’s kitchen stirring something on the stove with a lazy grace that seems almost criminal this early in the morning. The sunlight filtering through the window catches his hair, casting a soft halo around him, and Felix’s stomach twists uncomfortably. The dream slams into Felix with the force of a freight train. He can all too easily picture Minho’s flushed face, his breathy pleas, and the way he’d clung to Felix like he couldn’t bear to let go. Felix feels the heat rise in his cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears.

 

Minho hasn’t noticed him yet despite how loud he’d been, too busy humming softly under his breath as he seems completely at ease there in Felix’s (and Chan’s) kitchen. The smell of eggs and something savory wafts through the kitchen only add to the ambiance of the scene before him. Felix tries to force himself to move, swallowing hard as he silently urges himself to get a grip. It’s just Minho in the kitchen - it’s not a new thing. He needs to stop being weird.

 

“Morning,” he says as he finally forces himself to walk into the kitchen, hating the way that his voice comes out tighter than he’d intended it to be.

 

Minho glances over his shoulder, smiling smally. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets and Felix really just wants to groan because of course Minnho would say something like that wouldn’t he? “You’re up early.”

 

Felix wants to laugh - he wants to tease Minho and ask if he’s the pot or kettle considering Minho’s the one standing there cooking breakfast despite it being early - but his throat feels too dry. Instead, he shuffles awkwardly toward the counter, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. “Yeah, uh… I couldn’t sleep,” Felix mutters as he busies himself with getting some water from the pitcher in the fridge. 

 

Minho raises an eyebrow, leaning a hip against the counter as he watches Felix put the pitcher away and grab the glass again. “Everything okay?”

 

Felix nearly chokes on the sip of water he’d just taken. “Fine. Everything’s fine.” He clears his throat, trying to will away the heat in his face and hoping that Minho doesn’t notice. “Where’s Chris?”

 

“Shower,” Minho replies as he turns back to the stove, making sure the food in the skillet doesn’t burn or stick. “He said he’d be out soon, so I figured I’d start breakfast.”

 

Felix nods, though he focuses on the counter instead of Minho. Well, he tries his best not to look at him - but, his best isn’t good enough. His eyes dart up against his will, just in time to see Minho looking like some domestic dream come to life. The hem of Minho’s t-shirt rides up slightly as he reaches for a plate in the cabinet, exposing a sliver of skin above the waist of his pants. Felix looks away immediately, swearing under his breath. He cannot be ogling his brother’s best friend.

 

“So,” Minho says, cutting through Felix’s mental spiral as he plates some of the eggs from the skillet, “what was last night about?”

 

Felix’s stomach drops as Minho looks at him. It takes every ounce of willpower Felix has not to bolt from the room.  “What do you mean?” he asks, aiming for nonchalance but landing somewhere closer to panicked. He clears his throat, hoping Minho didn’t notice the fact that his voice was a bit higher than usual because of it.

 

Minho shrugs as he places the plate he’d just finished getting ready onto the counter. “The dare.” He tilts his head, smirking slightly as he looks over at Felix. “I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.”

 

Felix laughs awkwardly, gripping the glass of water so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t crack. “Yeah, well, Jisung’s persistent. You know how he is.”

 

Minho hums thoughtfully, leaning against the counter again as he looks Felix up and down. “You didn’t seem too bothered by it, though.”

 

Felix’s breath hitches, and he’s pretty sure that his face is bright red. “It was just a dare,” he says quickly. In his panic to insist that it didn’t mean anything it didn’t occur to him that Minho hadn’t seemed too bothered by it, either.

 

“Sure,” Minho says with a nod of his head, but his smirk becomes more prominent, like he knows something that Felix doesn’t. Felix decides right then and there that he’s going to murder Jisung the next time he sees him.

 

Chan chooses that moment to walk into the kitchen, his hair still damp from his shower. Felix has never been more relieved to see his brother in his entire life. “Morning,” Chan says cheerfully as he glances between the two of them. “What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing!” Felix blurts too loudly. He clears his throat and forces a casual smile. “Just, uh… helping Minho-hyung with breakfast.”

 

Minho snorts softly but he turns back to the stove. “More like watching me cook breakfast,” he says. Felix shoots him a glare that he hopes is enough to tell Minho not to keep up their previous discussion. Minho just shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s trying not to laugh again.

 

Felix sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as he tries not to groan - it’s going to be a long morning. Chan doesn’t seem to notice any strangeness, though. Instead, he just falls right into conversation with Minho in a familiar back and forth banter. It should be comforting to Felix, the fact that it’s so normal and predictable. But something about it sets Felix on edge.

 

His eyes flick over to Minho as he takes a seat at the table there in the kitchen, and a knot in his stomach tightens. He tells himself that it’s just the hangover - or maybe lingering guilt from his dream - but neither one of those excuses seem right. Especially when all he can focus on is them .

 

Minho and Chan move around each other with the ease of years being spent together. Chan leans into Minho’s space to grab a mug from the cabinet just above his head, his hand casually resting on Minho’s waist as he reaches. It’s not a lingering touch or one that can be read as anything other than platonic, but Felix feels a sharp twist in his chest anyway.

 

Why does it bother him so much?

 

Minho barely seems to notice the touch. He simply steps aside to give Chan more room as he slides the plate of eggs and another one with bacon on it with a practiced ease. “Here,” Minho says, “make yourself useful and take this to the table.”

 

Chan grins as he takes the plates with a theatrical sigh. “Yes, dear,” he says. “You’d be lost without me and you know it.”

 

“Sure,” Minho drawls, rolling his eyes - the action does little to mask the softness in his tone.

 

It shouldn’t bother him. Minho and Chan have been like this as long as Felix has known Minho. They have been best friends since childhood, thick as thieves since before Felix moved to Seoul. Felix knows this. He knows that they have years of history and inside jokes and shared secrets that he’s only been on the periphery of. Still, something about seeing it this time just feels different.

 

It’s in the little things. Like the way that Minho doesn’t hesitate to shove Chan lightly in the shoulder when he makes a bad joke while Chan laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Or the way that Minho’s wearing Chan’s clothes - oversized on him but comfortable in a way that seems like he belongs in them. 

 

Felix’s chest tightens again and he has to force himself to look away before his imagination runs even more wild. He knows he’s being ridiculous. Of course Minho’s wearing Chan’s clothes; they’re in Chan’s apartment for God’s sake. Minho probably just grabbed whatever was clean out of Chan’s room after having crashed there again. Felix knows it doesn’t mean anything.

 

But then why does Felix feel like it does?

 

He catches himself watching again as Minho leans against the counter, his fingers brushing against Chan’s wrist after handing him another plate - one full of toast this time. It’s nothing, Felix tells himself. It was just an accident or just friendly or whatever else he needs to come up with to keep his thoughts in check. Except his thoughts aren’t in check. They’re spiraling and he’s not entirely sure how to stop them, especially as he comes to the worst thought of all:

 

What if something happened between Minho and Chan last night?

 

It’s absurd. Felix knows that it’s absurd. Not that they might possibly have hooked up - that’s their prerogative if they want to do that; but, that Felix might be bothered by it is the absurd part. He had no right to be. Chan’s his brother and Felix wants him to be happy. And Minho’s… well, Minho. Still, the idea won’t seem to leave Felix’s mind.

 

Minho’s wearing Chan’s clothes. Minho stayed over. They’re standing there in the kitchen, close enough to touch while moving around each other like it’s second nature. Clearly, it means that there’s something between them. Which should be fine. It shouldn’t bother him at all. It really, really shouldn’t.

 

But it does. 

 

Felix clenches his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the glass in his hand. He doesn’t want to think about why the idea of Chan and Minho hooking up makes him feel like this - like his chest is full of static or like he’s two seconds away from doing something stupid like punching Chan in the face. He doesn’t want to think about it. But he can’t help it.

 

The thought of them together - a mental image of Minho laughing at something Chan said before leaning in to kiss him - makes Felix’s stomach churn. It’s irrational, maybe even childish, but the jealousy burns and flickers inside him all the same. “Felix?” Chan’s sudden question jolts Felix out of his spiraling thoughts. When Felix looks up at him, Chan’s got a stack of four plates in his hand with some silverware balanced on top, looking at him with a curious frown. “You okay?”

 

Felix forces a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels to him. “Yeah. Fine,” he answers. Minho looks over at them, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything but Felix wishes he would even though he has no idea what he wishes Minho might say. “Hangover.” He gets up from the table and takes the plates from Chan. “I’ll set this up.”

 

He can feel Minho’s gaze on him as he busies himself preparing four places at the table. Felix can’t help but think once again: it’s going to be a long morning .

 

---

 

The coffee shop is nice and cozy, buzzing with conversation and filled with the aroma of coffee. Any other day, Felix would be enjoying it. That day however, he just strides into the place, simmering with frustration as he looks around for Jisung since they’d arranged to meet there. Jisung is sitting in a booth by the window, nursing an iced coffee as he scrolls through his phone, blissfully unaware of the dark cloud that seemed to have followed Felix into the coffee shop. Felix slides into the seat across from him with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest as he sinks down low in his seat. “You will not believe what I’ve been dealing with this morning,” he bemoans.

 

Jisung looks up, raising an eyebrow as he sets his phone down. “Morning to you, too,” he says. “What’s up with you?”

 

Felix doesn’t hesitate to answer, sitting up fully to rest his arms against the top of the table as he speaks. “It’s Chris and Minho. They’re - god, I’m sure they’re fucking.”

 

Jisung blinks at him, looking as though that wasn’t even close to being what he expected him to say. “Uh… what?” is all that Jisung manages to formulate to say.

 

“They’re fucking,” Felix hisses, leaning forward like it’s some sort of scandal that shouldn’t be overheard. “I caught them in the kitchen this morning. The way they were touching each other… And Minho was wearing Chan’s clothes! It’s just so obvious!”

 

Jisung tilts his head, his expression shifting from confused to bemused in record time. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning here. What exactly did you see?”

 

Felix sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair, but he then falls into explaining, his words tumbling out in a rushed, frantic rant. He describes to Jisung about how Chan’s hand brushed against Minho’s waist, about the clearly casual and familiar intimacy between them, and how Minho had looked so comfortable wearing Chan’s oversized clothes. He didn’t leave out a single detail, feeling as though each one added to the irrefutable evidence that the two of them had to have hooked up last night. By the time he finishes, Jisung is leaning against his hand with his elbow on the table to prop himself up, watching Felix with a look that is equal parts amused and incredulous. He doesn’t say anything as Felix’s words simply hang in the air. Felix glares at him when he realizes that Jisung isn’t talking. “Well?” he demands. “Say something.”

 

Jisung snorts out a laugh as he sits up straight. He crosses his arms on top of the table as he says, “Lix, I love you, but you do know that Chan’s not going to fuck Minho, right?” Felix opens his mouth to argue, but Jisung cuts him off. “Pretty sure my boyfriend would rather cut off his own dick than cheat on me.”

 

Felix freezes, his internal monologue stuttering to a halt as Jisung’s words sink in. “Your… boyfriend ?”

 

“Yeah. You know, the guy I’ve been dating for months?” Jisung says as he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging up on the corner of his lips. “Your brother? The one I’m constantly texting or crying about his gym selfies while you tell me that it’s gross? Starting to ring any bells?”

 

Felix stares at him, his mouth opening and closing several times as he tries to come up with something to say. He can feel the heat rush into his face as realization slams into him. Chan and Jisung have been together for ages now and have been practically inseparable. Felix knows this, but somehow in the middle of his jealous spiral, he’d managed to completely forget that. “Oh my god,” Felix groans, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m an idiot.”

 

“Kind of,” Jisung teases before giggling as he reaches over to pat Felix’s arm. “Seriously, though, what’s gotten into you? Why are you suddenly spiraling over Minho?”

 

Felix groans again as he lets his forehead thump against the table. “It’s stupid.” His words are mumbled, muffled by the table, but Jisung hears him anyway.

 

He just smiles gently as he grabs his coffee to take another drink. “I’ve got time for stupid.”

 

Felix sighs as he sits up straight again. “Fine, but you can’t laugh.”

 

“No promises.”

 

Felix rolls his eyes, but he tells Jisung everything, anyway. He tells Jisung about the dream, how he can’t stop thinking about the kiss, and how he can’t stop noticing Minho now in ways he never has before. By the time he’s done talking, Jisung is grinning, clearly trying not to burst out laughing. “I said don’t laugh!” Felix all but whines. 

 

“I’m not laughing,” Jisung says as he covers his mouth with his hand, trying to hide the laughter that escapes him. “I’m processing.”

 

Felix groans as he once again buries his face in his hands. “This is the worst. I’m the worst.”

 

“Hey, it’s not that bad.” Jisung gently nudges Felix’s foot under the table, earning himself a groan in response. “You’re just… jealous. It’s kind of cute, honestly.”

 

Felix peeks over at Jisung through his fingers with a frown. “It doesn’t feel cute.”

 

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s a sign that you should figure out what you actually want.” Jisung shrugs his shoulders as he speaks. “You know, before you implode or something.”

 

Felix huffs as he drops his hands to cross his arms on top of the table and glare at Jisung. “You’re the worst advice-giver ever.”

 

Jisung just smiles cheekily. “You’re welcome.”

 

Felix lets out a frustrated groan, slumping back against the back of the booth while Jisung takes another smug sip of his coffee. Before Felix can come up with a retort, a new voice cuts into the conversation ringing with amusement. “Wow, you guys are loud. What’s going on?” the voice says. They both look up to see Changbin standing beside their table, one eyebrow raised. The hoodie he’s wearing is one that Hyunjin has attacked with markers and fabric paint, but it looks fantastic, and he’s got a takeaway cup of coffee in his hand.

 

“What are you doing here?” Felix asks, obviously taken aback at the familiar face in the shop.

“Getting coffee,” Changbin replies in a sarcastic tone. “Guess I’m not the only one who thought this place was a good idea.”

 

“Well don’t sit down,” Felix blurts out - but it’s too late. Changbin is already sliding into the booth beside Jisung, setting his drink down on the table while looking far too interested in their conversation. 

 

“Don’t be fucking rude,” Changbin insists as he gets comfortable in his seat, though he doesn’t seem to actually be offended by Felix’s outburst. “Anyway, you look like you’re having a crisis. Those are always fun to watch.”

 

Felix groans, covering his face with his hands again. “It’s not a crisis,” he insists as he crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s just - ugh, nothing. Go away.”

“Nothing?” Jisung echoes as he shoots Changbin a mischievous look. “It’s definitely not nothing.”

 

Felix glares at him. “Don’t you dare -”

 

“Felix is freaking out cause he’s in love with his brother’s best friend.” Jisung sounds far too happy with himself and Felix debates on if it’s worth the energy to kick him under the table.

 

Changbin’s eyebrows shoot up as he says, “Minho?”

 

Felix’s mouth drops open in shock, sitting up as he frantically says, “No! I do not !” He looks around as if there might be someone around to help him, but there isn’t. “I don’t even- oh my god, you’re the worst, Jisung!”

 

Jisung shrugs his shoulders, looking far too pleased with himself. “You said not to laugh,” he reminds Felix, “not not to share.”

 

“This is stupid,” Felix mutters. His cheeks are burning and he knows his face is red as he refuses to meet Changbin’s gaze. “I don’t even want him. That’s so stupid. Why would I want him? That’s a dumb rom-com cliche.”

 

“So? Rom-coms are great.”

 

Felix snaps his head up to glare at Jisung. “But it’s Minho .”

 

“And?” Jisung shrugs, glad that Felix has accepted the fact that Changbin is just in the conversation now. “You’re the one who dreamed about fucking him last night - and then went on a tangent about how jealous you were of the idea of your brother dating him.”

 

Felix makes a strangled sound. He’s pretty sure it’s impossible for his face to get any redder as he hides behind his hands again. “I hate you. I hate both of you.”

 

Changbin blinks, looking between the two of them as if he’s fighting back his laughter. He almost asks what he’s done to make Felix hate him. Instead, he says, “Wait, hold up. You dreamed about fucking Minho?”

 

“I said stop ,” Felix all but whines, his voice muffled by his hands.

 

Jisung doesn’t feel like stopping, though, especially because he knows Felix well enough to know that he doesn’t mean it - he’s not using his serious voice . His statements to stop are solely out of embarrassment and not wanting to face it. Instead, Jisung turns to Changbin and grins wickedly. “Yeah, and now he’s spiraling because Minho was in his kitchen this morning wearing Chan’s clothes.”

 

Changbin lets out a low whistle as he settles into his seat more. “Damn, that’s rough,” he comments with a solemn nod. “But, like… Minho’s hot, so I get it.”

 

Felix’s hands drop from his face as he shoots Changbin an incredulous look. “You’re supposed to be on my side!” he insists.

 

“I am,” Changbin laughs as he holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying… if I had a dream like that, I’d be reevaluating some things, too.”

 

“I’m not reevaluating anything ,” Felix insists, his voice rising slightly. “It’s not like that. I don’t - ugh! This is so stupid. I don’t want Minho!”

 

Jisung snickers and says, “You’re protesting too much for someone who doesn’t care.”

 

Felix glares at him, but the redness in his face gives him away. He knows it, and the worst part is that Jisung and Changbin know it, too. Changbin takes a sip of his coffee as he says, “So, what are you gonna do about it?” His tone is casual but his eyes are glinting with amusement at the same time.

 

Felix groans, dropping his head to the table again with a loud thunk . “Absolutely nothing,” he insists. “Because there’s nothing to do. This is all your fault anyway, Han Jisung!”

 

“My fault?” Jisung echoes, his voice mixing with barely-contained giggles. “How is this my fault?”

 

“You made me kiss him last night!” Felix exclaims as he lifts his head to glare at him.

 

“That was a dare. You could have said no.”

 

Felix slumps back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest again. “I hate you so much.”

 

Changbin snickers and shakes his head as he says, “Man, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Felix groans, closing his eyes as he leans his head back against the back of the booth as he tries to will his embarrassment away. Somehow, he doubts it’ll work with those two around.

 

By the time his conversation with them is over, Felix realizes there’s only one thing he can do: avoid the problem.

 

So, he does everything he can to avoid seeing Minho again. His avoidance strategy works flawlessly for about two weeks. It isn’t even that difficult to do - he and Minho are in different years at university, and while they share a few classes on paper, their schedules don’t line up. The rare moments that they might have crossed paths on campus were easily dodged by Felix’s carefully curated calendar of busyness. He kept running between different study groups, club meetings, and even tutoring sessions.

 

The result of it is that he hasn’t seen Minho since that morning in the kitchen, and he’s determined to keep it that way. But, all good plans eventually hit a snag, and Felix’s eventually comes in the form of Jackson Wang.

 

Jackson had been a staple in their friend group to start with before he left for an internship abroad, but he came back, and he’s determined to reintroduce himself with bang - which means a ridiculously large party at his place. The party is loud, packed, and impossible to avoid. Felix tried to get out of it, insisting that he had homework and an early dance class tomorrow, but Jisung had seen through that in an instant.

 

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung had insisted as he’d dragged Felix out of the apartment and to Jackson’s place.

 

Which is why Felix finds himself weaving through a sea of bodies with bass-heavy music blasting through some speakers somewhere as he clutches to his phone like a lifeline. Felix isn’t quite dressed for a party like almost everyone around him - he’s wearing light wash jeans that are stylishly baggy and a worn-in hoodie that isn’t exactly flattering but it is comfortable. Jisung hadn’t let him change before dragging him out of the apartment. Since realizing he couldn’t talk his way out of the party, his intention was to stick close to Jisung, maybe sneak out early. Somehow, he’d ended up ambushed by Jackson at the door and being dragged into the chaos with an arm slung over his shoulder. “Felix! You look great! Have fun!” Jackson had shouted before disappearing into the crowd, leaving Felix stranded there, unsure of where Jisung had gone.

 

Felix is considering retreating to the kitchen, where he’s sure it’ll be quieter, when he feels a familiar presence at his side. “Running away already?” he’s asked. Felix freezes. That voice. He knows that voice. Felix turns, and sure enough, there’s Minho, looking unfairly good in a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up just past his elbows. It showcases his arms and Felix hates that almost as much as he hates the sharp smirk on Minho’s face. Minho’s eyes glitter with amusement as he looks Felix up and down. He’s got some makeup around his eyes that just make them even more alluring, and his jeans are skin-tight in all the right places.

 

“I’m not running away,” Felix says quickly, his voice higher than usual.

 

Minho arches a brow. “Really? Because it kind of seems like you’ve been avoiding me.”

 

Felix’s heart thuds uncomfortably in his chest. He hadn’t thought that Minho would notice, honestly. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He forces himself to meet Minho’s gaze, thickly swallowing back the guilt he feels at lying.

 

Minho’s smirk widens. He clearly doesn’t believe a word Felix is saying. “Oh? Then prove it.”

 

Felix blinks. “What?”

 

Minho huffs out a laugh, mumbling something about Felix being cute. “Dance with me,” he explains, tilting his head toward the makeshift dance floor where people are moving to the music filling the room. Minho’s voice is casual as he says it, but there’s a challenge in his eyes, a knowing look that makes Felix feel like squirming in place. 

 

Felix  quickly scrambles for an excuse, anything to get away from the situation. “I, uh - I don’t really dance.” He wants to wince but somehow doesn’t - Minho knows that Felix takes dance classes.

 

Minho hums, clearly unimpressed by the obvious lie. “That’s funny. Pretty sure I saw you dancing with Jisung at the last party.”

Felix flushes, his throat dry as he tries to think of some way to bail himself out of this one. “That’s different.”

 

“How is it different?” Minho tilts his head to the side as he asks the question, causing the fringe of his hair to fall into his eyes and Felix wants to reach up to brush it away.

 

“It just is,” he insists, though his voice is weak.

 

Minho sighs, shaking his head and not bothering to mask his look of disappointment. “Well, if you’re not going to dance with me, I’ll have to find someone who will.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns back to head to the dance floor.

 

Felix stands there frozen for a moment, guilt and something else twisting in his gut. He knows he should be relieved that Minho’s walking away from him, but instead, his chest just continues to feel uncomfortably tight. Desperate for a distraction, he turns and pushes his way through the crowd to the kitchen. Once in there, he grabs a plastic cup and fills it with the first drink he can find. He downs a sip and grimaces at the too-sweet taste, but he takes another drink, anyway. As he drinks some more, he finds his thoughts drifting back to the dance floor in the other room. To Minho.

 

Before he can stop himself, Felix finds that his feet are moving. The bass grows louder with each step as he makes his way back toward the place where he’d let Minho walk away from him. The crowd in the room has grown in his short absence, the bodies in it moving together in a chaotic rhythm. Felix lingers at the edge of the room, his eyes scanning the crowd. It doesn’t take him long to find Minho.

 

Minho’s near the center of the room, his body swaying to the beat of the music with effortless grace. There’s someone dancing close to him - the guy’s hands are on Minho’s shoulders, his movements flirtatious and bold as he steps in closer. Felix’s grip tightens on the cup in his hands, a sour taste rising in his mouth. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, that he has no right to feel anything about who Minho dances with. But, the knot in his chest only grows tighter and tighter as he watches. He takes another sip of his drink, the sweetness doing nothing to drown out the bitterness in his throat.

 

Felix can’t tear his eyes away from Minho and the way that his jeans hug his thighs, showing off the swell of his ass, or the effortless sway of his hips as he moves in perfect time to the beat. It’s mesmerizing. Felix knows he shouldn’t be looking. It doesn’t help that the guy dancing with Minho seems to notice all the things that Felix does. Felix’s fingers tighten around his cup again as he watches the stranger’s hands slide down Minho’s back to settle firmly on his ass. The sight makes Felix choke on his drink, coughing as the liquid burns its way down the wrong pipe.

 

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, his voice cutting through the music from beside him, and Felix looks over to see his friend looking at him with raised brows.

 

“Fine,” Felix croaks before brushing his sleeve over his mouth as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes unknowingly darting back over to the dance floor.

 

 Hyunjin follows Felix’s gaze, his lips twitching into a knowing smirk when he sees what’s caught Felix’s attention. “You’re really not subtle, you know.”

 

Felix glares at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice is defensive as he speaks. 

 

Hyunjin just hums, crossing his arms as he leans casually against the wall they’re next to. “So, what’s the plan? You gonna stand here choking on your drink while that guy gropes Minho, or are you going to do something about it?”

 

“There’s nothing to do,” Felix snaps, turning back to his cup to avoid Hyunjin’s sharp gaze. 

 

“Right.” Hyunjin nods his head slowly. “Because Minho is just your brother’s best friend.”

 

Felix flushes, his grip tightening around the plastic cup as he realizes that Changbin probably told Hyunjin about their conversation at the coffee shop that one day. “That’s exactly what he is.”

 

Hyunjin rolls his eyes so hard that Felix is surprised they don’t get stuck that way. “And I didn’t blow Changbin between classes today.”

“Gross.” Felix grimaces, shoving Hyunjin lightly.

 

“What? It’s relevant!” Hyunjin says with a laugh as he nudges Felix back. “Seriously, though, if you like Minho you should just do something about it.”

 

“I don’t like him,” Felix protests weakly, the words feeling hollow even as he says them.

 

Hyunjin gives him a pointed look and speaks with sarcasm dripping off every word. “Right. That’s why you’ve been glaring daggers at that guy’s hands for the past five minutes.”

 

Felix’s stomach twists as he looks back at the dance floor. Minho is smiling, his head tilted as he says something to the guy, who’s leaning even closer to Minho to speak to him over the music. Felix’s chest tightens as he fights off the uncomfortable feeling too much like jealousy that courses through him. “It doesn’t matter,” Felix mutters, turning his gaze back to the cup in his hand. “Even if I did like him - which I don’t - Chan would kill me.”

 

Hyunjin snorts at that and shakes his head. “Chan’s not going to care,” he insists. “If anything, I’m pretty sure he’d rather Minho end up with you than you getting with some fuckboy that’ll hurt you.” There’s a beat of silence before Hyunjin continues, “Or Minho ending up with someone that’ll hurt him,” knowing that Chan has always been rather protective of Minho because of their friendship.

 

Felix frowns as Hyunjin’s words seem to chip away at the wall of excuses he’s built to hide himself behind. The truth is, the idea of Minho being with someone else - anyone else - makes his stomach churn; but, the thought of doing something about it, of actually putting himself out there, is almost as terrifying.

 

Hyunjin nudges him again. “You’re just gonna let him slip through your fingers?” he asks, his voice softer this time. “You might regret it.”

 

Felix swallows hard, the weight of Hyunjin’s words settling heavily in his chest. His eyes drift back to the dance floor, to Minho, and he feels his resolve waver.  Without thinking about it, he hands his cup to Hyunjin and starts to make his way across the room. However, his determined steps falter before he makes it even halfway to the dance floor. His courage, which had been so briefly summoned, dissipates as quickly as it had formed. His gaze is locked onto Minho, who tilts his head back in a laugh at something the guy in front of him says. The stranger’s hands remained glued to Minho’s ass, fingers digging possessively into the muscles beneath his hands, as they sway to the music.

 

If Minho likes him - really likes him - then why is he letting someone else paw at him like this? The question twists Felix’s stomach and, before he knows it, he’s backtracking to where Hyunjin is standing. “I can’t,” Felix blurts out, running a hand through his hair before Hyunjin can even ask what he’s doing back there.

 

Hyunjin sighs heavily. “Why not?” he asks as he raises a brow.

 

Felix gestures toward the dance floor. “If Minho likes me, then why’s he letting some guy grope him like that? Why not just… I don’t know, tell him to back off?”

 

Hyunjin tilts his head as he sighs again, his expression bordering on pitying, which just makes Felix scowl. “Lixie, Minho’s too loyal to Chan to do anything about his feelings for you,” he says. It makes Felix’s expression soften a little, but his doubt is still clear in his eyes. “He’s been sitting on this crush for you for ages because he can’t risk crossing a line you don’t want him to. But, you can’t expect him to just… mope around forever and be miserable, never letting anyone else touch him.”

 

Felix frowns, pursing his lips for a moment as he tries to think it over. “So, what? He likes me but still wants someone else to-” He stops, unable to finish the sentence because the thought alone upsets him too much.

 

“To get off with?” Hyunjin supplies bluntly, earning himself a glare from Felix that he shrugs his shoulders at. “Yeah, maybe. He’s still a guy, Lix. He has needs. Him fooling around with someone else because he thinks you’re uninterested or unavailable doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.”

 

Felix groans, dragging his hands down his face. He hates how logical Hyunjin sounds. It makes him feel irrational and petty for letting it bother him so much that Minho’s dancing with someone else like he is. “It just… it sucks, okay? I don’t want him with someone else.”

 

“Well, then do something about it,” Hyunjin says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

 

Felix’s heart pounds at the mere thought of it, but his feet remain glued to the floor. His eyes drift back to Minho, who now has his arms loosely draped around the stranger’s neck. There’s no denying the pang of jealousy that twists his chest, but there’s also a flicker of self-doubt. “What if I screw it up?” Felix asks quietly, almost to himself.

 

Hyunjin’s gaze softens and he places a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “You won’t. But, if you don’t even try, you’ll regret it. Besides, Minho isn’t into that guy at all. You can tell just by looking at him.”

 

Felix swallows hard, Hyunjin’s words sinking in slowly. His fingers twitch at his sides as he weighs his options. He knows that Hyunjin’s right about Minho not being interested in the guy he’s dancing with, though. Minho’s movements are half-hearted, his smiles polite but distant. The guy dancing with him might not notice, but Felix does.

 

Hyunjin nudges him again. “Go,” he insists. “Before I do it for you.”

 

Across the room, Minho is still dancing with that guy, their bodies still too close for Felix’s liking. The sight gnaws at him, the knot of jealousy and something heavier - something like regret that he hadn’t followed Minho to begin with - sitting low in his chest. Felix starts to make his way toward them, to reclaim what he feels like should be his place there at Minho’s side. But before he can move, Chan steps into his line of sight. “Hey,” Chan greets with a warm smile. He casually rests an arm on Hyunjin’s shoulder, looking completely at ease. “What’re you two doing over? Hiding from the dance floor?”

 

Hyunjin smirks, his sharp gaze flicking between Felix and Minho across the room. “Something like that,” he says airily before falling silent. He lifts a brow at Felix as if silently questioning whether or not he was going to tell Chan.

 

Felix stiffens underneath the weight of Hyunjin’s unspoken challenge. Telling Chan what’s been going on feels like a giant hurdle somehow. His familiar warmth and protective presence makes guilt rise thick in Felix’s throat. He shouldn’t be having the thoughts he’s been having about his brother’s best friend. Chan’s brow furrows as he looks between Felix and Hyunjin. “You guys are being weird. Well, weirder than usual,” he says with a half-laugh, leaning in slightly closer to look at Felix carefully. “What’s going on?”

 

Felix glances over at Hyunjin, who just folds his arms with his trademark smirk that’s a mix of amusement and challenge. He’s giving Felix the floor, leaving it up to him whether or not Chan’s going to be told what’s been going on with Felix lately. Felix hesitates. His pulse pounds loud enough in his ears to drown out the music for a moment. He knows that Hyunjin said that Chan won’t mind, that Chan would rather he and Minho be together than either of them being hurt by someone else. Still, saying it out loud feels like crossing a line he’s not sure he’s supposed to cross.

 

Concern creeps into Chan’s expression as he cocks his head slightly. “Lix, you good?” he asks.

 

Felix clears his throat, avoiding Chan’s gaze. “Would you…?” he starts, his voice quieter than he intends it to be. He glances over at Hyunjin for a second, who nods in quiet reassurance that it’s okay to continue. Felix wets his lips before he looks back at Chan. “Would you be mad if I was into Minho?”

 

The question hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment it feels like the entire room has gone silent, though the music still blares in the background. Felix can feel Hyunjin’s silent approval next to him, fortified by Hyunjin gently squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. Chan blinks, his face blank with surprise as he tries to process Felix’s seemingly random question. “Into Minho?” he echoes, a frown forming on his face as he tries to process the words.

 

Felix shifts uncomfortably, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as he fights against the urge to tell Chan to forget it, that he’s just being dumb and it doesn’t mean anything. Before he can convince himself to run away again, he nods and says, “Yeah. Like… more than friends. I mean, liking him more than friends. Like I want to be with him.”

 

Chan’s silence stretches out a beat too long, and Felix feels the weight of every second like it’s pressing the air out of his lungs. An apology lingers on his lips, so close to just blurting it out and telling Chan to forget it. But, then, Chan’s face softens as his frown disappears, replaced by a gentle expression. “You think I’d be mad about that?” Chan says finally, his voice low and even.

 

Felix shrugs, his heart still racing despite the slight feeling of relief that Chan’s not shouting at him. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, he’s your best friend and you’re my brother. Isn’t that like… a thing?”

 

Chan exhales slowly, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small, crooked smile. “Felix,” he says and shakes his head with a fond smile. “I care about both of you. Why would I be mad if you actually like him?” Felix doesn’t miss the word actually , like Chan’s acknowledging the depth of his feelings without Felix having to say more. “I never understood that whole anger about the sibling dating the friend thing - if you’re that mad that your friend wants to date your sibling, then you’re probably not hanging out with the right friends.”

 

Relief washes over Felix as he takes in Chan’s words, but there’s still a nervousness that he still can’t quite shake. Hyunjin smirks as he looks at Felix and says, “See? Told you.”

 

Chan rolls his eyes at Hyunjin’s antics before focusing on Felix again. “Just don’t like… make out with him in front of me, yeah?” Chan crinkles his nose as he says it. Felix feels his face heat up in a blush. “And don’t hurt him - I mean, I know you wouldn’t so I’m not really worried - but, still. He’s not as tough as he seems.”

 

Felix nods his head, not trusting himself to speak without his voice breaking. Across the room, Minho laughs at something the stranger says and Felix’s attention is drawn back to him like a magnet. His fear and nervousness snap away instantly as if they hadn’t been there at all as he finds himself annoyed once again that this guy has his hands on Minho. Chan follows his gaze and his smile grows. “You should probably stop sulking over here, though,” he says. “Go talk to him.”

 

Felix hesitates, feeling rooted to the floor, but Hyunjin nudges him forward with a smirk. “Go on,” he insists, waving Felix off. “Save him from whoever that is before they think they have a real chance with him.”

 

Chan laughs, and Felix finally steps forward, taking a deep, steadying breath. His heart pounds with every step he takes toward Minho. His pulse feels loud in his ears, but this time, Felix forces himself to keep going. He doesn’t stop.

 

As he weaves through the crowd, his gaze locks on Minho, who glances over and notices him quickly. Felix freezes for a few seconds, unsure of what to do under Minho’s sharp, amused gaze. It seems to happen in slow motion - Minho’s hands drop from the guy’s shoulders, his already loose grip falling away as if he’s already made his choice. Which Felix guesses he already has since he had wanted Felix to dance with him in the first place. The stranger’s expression twists into a mix of annoyance and disbelief as he watches how Minho’s attention is solely on Felix. Felix hardly notices the guy, though. His mind unwillingly flashes back to his dream - of dream-Minho clutching his shoulders with desperate fingers, panting into his neck like he never wanted to let go.

 

“Seriously?” the guy scoffs, breaking Felix out of his thoughts to focus on the guy as he crosses his arms and glares. “You’re just going to ditch me for him ?”

 

“Yeah,” Felix says immediately, sounding far more confident than he feels at the moment. “Go away.”

 

The guy’s jaw drops as he looks at Minho as if expecting Minho to disagree, but Minho doesn’t contradict him. Instead, Minho just arches a brow as he smirks. He doesn’t offer a word of protest or even try to explain anything to the stranger, and Felix finds the lack of denial is far more satisfying than he’s willing to admit. With a grumble, the guy mutters something rude about Minho and stalks off into the crowd. Neither one of them seems to really register the insult - Felix knows he’s too focused on Minho, who doesn’t even glance at the other man as he leaves.

 

“Well,” Minho says, watching Felix with a gaze that’s a mix of amusement and questioning all the same. “Does this mean you’re going to dance with me now?”

 

Felix’s pulse stutters again. He doesn’t respond verbally, though, as he finds his words caught in his throat. He steps forward instead, closing the remaining distance between them. His hands find Minho’s waist, tentative at first but finding something grounding in the warmth of Minho’s body that he can feel seeping through the shirt that he’s wearing. Minho’s smirk only widens, amusement becoming more prominent in his features. “What’s this?” he teases. “You look like you’re scared to touch me.”

 

Minho’s familiar, infuriating teasing tone lights a spark in Felix. He leans in, close enough that his breath is warm against Minho’s ear as he murmurs his response, his voice lower than usual as he says, “Where do you want me to touch you, then?”

 

Felix smirks at the way that a visible shudder runs down Minho’s spine, Minho’s own smirk faltering just slightly as his lips part in a quiet inhale. Felix feels a rush of satisfaction, a heady thrill that’s better than anything his dream could have conjured up. For a moment, Minho doesn’t say anything, but then Felix watches as the playful edge in his expression softens into something warmer, something that makes Felix’s stomach flip. “I think,” Minho says, his voice quieter than before, “you’ve already figured that out.”

 

Felix’s fingers tighten slightly, anchoring him as they sway to the beat of the music together. The crowd around them seems to fade into the background as Felix’s focus narrows entirely on Minho - onto the warmth of Minho’s body so close to his own and the way that his eyes darken as Felix pulls him just a little closer. For the first time all night, Felix doesn’t feel like running away. Minho’s arms snake around Felix’s shoulders, his arms crossing at the wrists behind Felix’s head. Felix’s hands then slide lower, slipping around Minho’s body to settle where the other man’s had been only moments ago. His fingers press into the curve of Minho’s ass and he finds the heat beneath his palms to be intoxicating.

 

He doesn't think he can ever stop touching Minho now. Minho hums, the sound low and pleased as he slips his thigh forward, nearly slipping between Felix’s. The action makes Felix groan quietly. While Felix can still remember that dream-Minho had felt close to him, desperate and pliant, he finds that reality is much better. Minho’s warmth, the weight of him in Felix’s hands, the way he fits perfectly against him - it’s all so undeniably real that it makes the dream pale in comparison.

 

Before Felix can really process his thought, one of Minho’s hands brushes along his jaw before gently grabbing his face. Minho’s fingers are firm, but not rough, as he directs Felix’s mouth to his, and Felix has no resistance to offer. The kiss is nothing like the one from the party dare. This one is hot and deliberate, Minho’s lips moving against his with a confidence that steals Felix’s breath. Minho’s mouth is soft, but firm - Felix can't get enough of it. When Minho moans into the kiss, Felix’s mind blanks completely. 

 

Felix’s grip tightens on Minho’s ass, pulling him flush against his body. The sound that spills from Minho is heady as Minho’s fingers slide into Felix’s hair and the kiss deepens. Felix tilts his head, allowing their mouths to slot together seamlessly, and the sensation makes his stomach churn with something dangerously addictive. Felix finds that he could spend forever kissing Minho and never grow tired of it.

 

Minho’s teeth graze Felix’s lower lip, tugging just enough to draw a startled gasp from him, and Minho takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into Felix’s mouth. The kiss grows more feverish, Minho’s body pressing impossibly closer as Felix’s hands knead at the curve of his ass, every movement of their bodies together sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. It’s overwhelming in the best way, and Felix can’t help but think about how wrong his dream had been - how it hadn’t even come close to the way that Minho really feels in his arms, or the way he sounds when Felix touches him, or the way he tastes slightly sweet and completely addictive. 

 

When they finally pull apart for air, Minho’s eyes are dark with desire. Felix’s own breaths come shallow and uneven, but his hands are still firmly planted on Minho’s ass as if letting go might shatter the moment between them. Minho smirks and the sight of his slightly swollen lips makes Felix just want to kiss him again. Before he can give into the desire, Minho says in a low voice, “Looks like you finally decided where to touch me.”

 

Felix lets out a short, breathless laugh and rests his forehead against Minho’s. “Yeah,” he agrees, “but I’m not done yet.”

 

Minho tilts his head, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Good, because I haven’t stopped thinking about your mouth since you kissed me.”

 

Felix feels the words hit him like a punch to the gut, stealing what little air he’s managed to catch. His brain supplies a fleeting thought of gratitude toward Jisung for that stupid dare, but he quickly buries it because there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to tell Jisung that. Minho doesn’t let Felix stay lost in his thoughts for too long. “So,” he says as his fingers trail down Felix’s chest. He tugs on the string of Felix’s hoodie before his fingers get low enough to tease the hem of the sweatshirt. “You’ve got two choices.”

 

Felix’s breath catches again and he barely manages a questioning hum in response, wordlessly telling Minho to continue.

 

“You can take me upstairs to one of the rooms here at Jackson’s…” Minho pauses, his lips quirking into a small smirk as he watches Felix’s eyes dart over to the staircase. “Or, we can go back to your place. I’d suggest mine, but it’s farther away and I don’t want to wait that long to get you alone.”

 

The way Minho looks at him, his gaze heavy with intent and his voice laced with raw honesty, sends a jolt of anticipation through Felix. His body is practically vibrating with adrenaline and need as his mind races to catch up with what’s happening. “Chan…” Felix starts, unsure where the sentence is going or even why he’s bringing up his brother now.

 

“Is going home with Jisung,” Minho interrupts smoothly, rolling his eyes as if that was an obvious statement. Which it probably is, Felix realizes belatedly. Of course Chan would want to go home with his boyfriend. “And he’s not going to care - or, well, he might later but only because he has to hear about it from one of us or Jisung.”

 

Felix can’t help but laugh at the off-handed comment, the tension between them breaking momentarily as Minho jokes about how Chan will likely end up hearing too much about their newfound relationship from someone somehow. The tension still simmers beneath the surface, though, flaring just a little as Minho’s fingers curl against the fabric of Felix’s hoodie, pulling him closer again.

 

“So?” Minho prompts. “What’s it going to be?”

 

Felix doesn’t answer immediately. His thoughts flash to the possibility of getting caught in Jackson’s house - there’s so many people that surely even if they stumbled into a private room it wouldn’t be private for too long - and then to the relative privacy of his own apartment. Felix knows that Minho’s right, too, that Chan likely won’t even be home tonight. He swallows hard, his resolve solidifying as he lets his hands slide up Minho’s sides, feeling the lean muscle hidden beneath the shirt that’s clinging to his body. 

 

“Let’s go back to mine,” Felix finally says, his voice steady despite the hammering of his heart.

 

Minho smirks again, a flicker of triumph flashing through his eyes. “Good choice.”

 

The cab ride back to Felix’s apartment feels like a test of his strength. Minho sits closer than he needs to, his thigh brushing against Felix’s. Felix is just glad that he somehow manages to keep his hands to himself, gripping his knees so tightly that his knuckles whiten as he wills himself to not give into the temptation to touch Minho. It doesn’t help that Minho seems to take pleasure in Felix’s restraint. He does what he can to draw Felix’s attention, a hand sliding up the inside of his own thigh in a way that’s subtle enough to have almost been accidental if it wasn’t for the smirk on his face, and it’s all Felix can do not to groan in frustration.

 

“Something wrong, Yongbok?” Minho finally asks, his voice low and teasing as the cab slows at a red light.

 

Felix shoots him a sidelong glance, his jaw tight as he continues to struggle against the desire to reach out and touch Minho himself. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he mutters, though he knows his tone is strained.

 

Minho chuckles softly. “You’re doing better than I expected,” he teases. “I thought you’d crack by now.”

 

Felix narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. He knew Minho had been doing it on purpose, and he knows that Minho’s testing him. But, he refuses to give Minho the satisfaction of seeing him lose control. Felix is determined to not be the reason they get kicked out of the taxi only a few blocks away from the apartment.

 

The taxi pulls up to their building faster than Felix anticipates. He quickly hands the fare to the driver before practically yanking the door open and stepping out into the cool night air. Minho follows, his movements unhurried as he thanks the driver and shuts the door behind him.  “Eager, are we?” Minho teases as they start toward the building’s entrance.

 

Felix ignores him in favor of leading the way inside. The quiet hum of the elevator as they make their way to the correct floor feels like a countdown, the seconds stretching away as Felix finds it harder and harder to continue to keep his hands off of Minho. Once they step into the apartment, Felix exhales sharply. The familiar space feels different, charged with anticipation as he locks the door behind them. 

 

“You’re really good at this self-control thing,” Minho remarks, his voice light but laced with a challenge all the same.

 

Felix turns to face him, his pulse quickening at the sight of Minho leaning casually against the back of the couch. His head is tilted slightly as he watches Felix with those sharp, teasing eyes. “Only because I had to be,” Felix replies, stepping closer until he’s standing directly in front of Minho. “Couldn’t be the reason neither one of us can ever get a taxi again.”

 

Minho hums, seemingly unimpressed by the explanation. “Had to be, huh?” He slips his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “What about now?”

 

Felix swallows hard, his gaze flicking to Minho’s lips before darting back up to his eyes. “Now…” he says, his voice low as he finally reaches out to settle his hands firmly on Minho’s waist. “I don’t think I have to hold back anymore.”

 

Minho grins as he removes his hands from his pockets to rest his hands on Felix’s shoulders. He leans in and speaks with his lips brushing against Felix’s. “Good.”

 

Felix leans in again, kissing Minho firmly as he gives in to the desire that’s been simmering since their first kiss back at Jackson’s party. Their mouths move together in a seamless dance, heated and desperate, until both of them are panting for air. Felix’s hands wander freely as they kiss - sliding down Minho’s back, brushing over his hips, and settling on his ass again. He pulls Minho forward, flush against him so that Minho’s no longer leaning against the couch.

 

Minho lets out a soft, breathy moan as his fingers curl into Felix’s hair. When he pulls back enough to catch his breath, his eyes roam over Minho’s face. He takes in the way that Minho’s lips are kiss-swollen and pink. His eyes are dark again, his chest rising and falling. It’s a sight that Felix knows will be burned into his memory forever. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Felix murmurs, his voice rough as he traces Minho’s jawline with his thumb. “Ever since that stupid dare, I can’t get you out of my head.”

 

Minho arches a brow, but his teasing smirk is softened by the flush on his cheeks. “Oh? You’ve been thinking about me, huh?”

 

Felix exhales sharply, letting his thumb brush over Minho’s lips. “You have no idea.” He’d felt so much shame about it before, but now he doesn’t, finding that he rather likes the way that Minho reacts to hearing his honesty. “I’ve dreamed about you.”

 

Minho’s breath hitches, his pupils dilating as he stares at Felix, hanging onto his every word. Felix can feel the tension radiating from him, can see the way that Minho’s lips part slightly as if he’s waiting - hoping - for Felix to kiss him again. But Felix doesn’t.

 

Not yet.

 

Instead, he lets his thumb drag slowly across Minho’s bottom lip, watching the way that Minho’s tongue darts out to wet it and the way that Minho’s eyes flicker with frustration and want. Felix smirks, enjoying this opportunity and finding that he doesn’t want Minho to ever look at anyone else like this. “What kind of dreams?” Minho asks, his voice still low and heavy. Felix feels a thrill shoot through him at the sound, feeling a bit of pride at knowing he’s the one making Minho sound like he does.

 

“The kind that made me wake up pissed off because they weren’t real.” Felix’s other hand slips underneath the hem of Minho’s shirt so that his fingers can brush over warm, smooth skin.

 

Minho shudders at the touch, his hands tightening on Felix’s shoulders as he leans in so that his lips brush against Felix’s jaw. “You’re such a tease,” Minho mutters, though his voice is too breathy to have any real bite to it. 

 

Felix hums in response. His hand glides up Minho’s back, his touch firm and deliberate as he revels in the way that Minho melts against him. “Am I? Or are you just impatient?”

 

Minho huffs out a laugh, though it turns into a soft gasp when Felix leans down to kiss the corner of his mouth before pulling away just slightly. “You’re driving me crazy,” Minho whispers, his fingers digging into Felix’s shoulders as he tries to close the maddening gap between them. 

 

Felix grins, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the admission. “Good,” he says as he lets his hands wander lower again, squeezing Minho’s ass just hard enough to earn a breathy moan in response.

 

For a brief moment, Felix becomes vaguely aware of the fact that they’re still in the living room, but the thought is fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the feeling of Minho in his hands, the sound of Minho’s rapid breathing, and the undeniable heat still between them. Minho glares at him, though the effect is somewhat ruined by the flush on his cheeks and the slight wobble in his knees. “If you don’t kiss me properly right now, I swear- mpfh!”

 

Felix cuts him off with a grin, his lips crashing against Minho’s in a kiss that’s fierce and utterly unapologetic. Minho’s hands slip from Felix’s shoulders to grab onto his arms, starting to tug him in the direction of the bedroom. Their lips barely break apart for more than a second at a time. It’s clumsy the way they stumble and bump into furniture along the way, but neither of them seems to care. Felix’s hands are everywhere, making it harder for Minho to keep his focus. “Yongbok-ah,” Minho manages to gasp, though it’s muffled as Felix kisses him so deeply that it makes Minho’s knees weak and he’s sure Felix’s arms around him are the only thing keeping him upright.

 

They collide with something that nearly makes them lose balance and Minho curses softly. Felix steadies the two of them with a firm grip on Minho’s hips before he moves them both toward the wall in the hallway. The back of Minho’s head thuds softly against it as Felix presses him there, his body warm and solid against Minho’s. “Yongbok,” Minho tries again, but the word dissolves into a moan as Felix tilts his hips forward, grinding against him in a way that leaves Minho breathless. 

 

Felix grins against Minho’s lips. “Sorry,” he murmurs, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

 

“You’re not,” Minho breathes as his hands slide up to tangle into Felix’s hair, pulling him closer again.

 

They kiss like they’re starving, like they’ll lose something vital if they stop. Felix’s hands slide down to Minho’s thighs, gripping them as if to anchor himself. His head is spinning as his senses are overwhelmed by Minho. He can’t get enough of the taste of him, the feel of him, or the soft, needy noises he makes when Felix grinds against him just right. When they pull apart for air again, Minho’s eyes are dark and glassy as he looks up at Felix. “So,” he says, his voice a little shaky though he seems to be trying to reclaim his composure, “are you going to tell me about those dreams of yours, or do I have to keep guessing?”

 

Felix freezes for a moment, his gaze darting to Minho’s lips before flicking back up to meet his eyes. “You really want to know?” he asks, his voice a bit rough around the edges.

 

Minho’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and Felix has to grip the wall beside Minho’s head to stop himself from leaning in again to replace Minho’s tongue with his own. “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” Minho says, a teasing lilt to his voice despite the obvious flush creeping up his neck.

 

Felix lets out a breathy laugh as his free hand drifts up to brush a thumb over Minho’s cheekbone. “You’re not making this easy,” he mutters.

 

“Good,” Minho replies. He tries to sound nonchalant, but the way his voice catches at the end betrays him. “Now, spill.”

 

Felix hesitates for a moment, his thumb trailing down to hover over Minho’s lips again. “Alright,” he finally says, speaking lowly to Minho. “In the dream, you were like this - needy, desperate, making these little noises like you couldn’t get enough of me.”

 

Minho’s breath hitches, his hands tightening where they rest on Felix’s shoulders. “Go on,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

 

Felix leans in so that his lips brush against Minho’s ear as he continues. “You kissed me like you wanted to drown in it. Then you begged me to touch you, to keep going.”

 

Minho shudders, his head tipping back against the wall as his eyes flutter shut. “And did you?” he asks, not doing a thing to try to masks the way that his voice is almost trembling. 

 

Felix smirks, leaning back just enough to take in the sight of Minho. He’s flushed and breathless, clinging to Felix like his life depends on it. “Of course,” he murmurs as he brushes his lips against Minho’s jaw. “But it wasn’t enough. Waking up after that? Pure torture.”

 

Minho opens his eyes then, pushing Felix back just enough that they could look in each other’s eyes. “Then don’t stop now,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper but still heavy with meaning.

 

Felix doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips crash against Minho’s again. Minho lets out a soft gasp as he lets Felix guide him backward through the hallway. Their lips never truly part as they make their way through. Each step feels like a game of tug-of-war between their growing impatience and the desire to keep touching, kissing, and tasting each other. Minho’s hands are relentless, tugging at Felix’s hoodie, sliding under the fabric to run his hands over Felix’s toned stomach. By the time they stumble through the doorway of Felix’s bedroom, they're both breathless and flushed. 

 

Felix slams the door shut behind them - not wanting to take any risks in case Chan comes home tonight - and he wastes no time. His hands tug at Minho’s shirt, lifting it over his head in a swift motion. He tosses it aside and steps back just long enough to look at him, at the way that his bare chest moved from his heavy breaths to the way his skin glowed under the dim lighting in the room. Felix’s gaze is almost predatory as he takes in the defined lines of Minho’s body, his flushed cheeks, and the way his parted lips are still wet from their kisses. 

 

“You’re staring,” Minho teases, though his voice is shaky.

 

“Yeah,” breathes Felix, unabashedly taking in the sight of the man in front of him as his hands move to the waistband of Minho’s jeans. “And I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

 

Minho’s smirk falters as Felix swiftly undoes the fastenings of his jeans before tugging them down slowly and deliberately, leaving him standing in just his underwear. Minho shivers under Felix’s heated gaze, his hands working at Felix’s clothes next, almost frantic to even the playing field.

 

It doesn’t take them long before both of them are stripped down to nothing. Felix leans forward, pressing Minho back onto the bed as his hands bracket Minho’s waist while he climbs on top of him between Minho’s parted thighs. The mattress dips under their weight, and Felix grabs the lube and condoms from his nightstand without looking away from Minho. Minho watches him as Felix sets the items beside them. Felix pauses, his hands drifting up to cup Minho’s jaw. He tilts Minho’s face up so their eyes meet. “You good?” Felix asks softly, his voice a stark contrast to the rough, urgent energy from before.

 

Minho nods, his eyes softening for a moment before a wicked grin curls at his lips. “Better than good. Now, shut up and kiss me.”

 

Felix laughs as he leans down to capture Minho’s lips in a searing kiss, one of his hands sliding into Minho’s hair to hold him in place. His other hand trails down Minho’s side, fingers brushing over bare skin and drawing a quiet, shivering gasp from him. Felix kisses him deeper, his tongue teasing Minho’s as his body presses Minho further into the bed. The more that Felix touches him, the more Minho seems to unravel. His hands grip Felix’s arms and his hips arch slightly as Felix’s fingers skim dangerously low. When Felix pulls back enough to look at him, he finds himself nearly breathless from how wrecked Minho looks already just from kissing him “Yongbok,” Minho whispers, his voice trembling slightly.

 

Felix grins, sharp and possessive as his hand trails lower. “What’s wrong?” he teases, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

 

Minho huffs as he narrows his eyes despite the color rushing to his cheeks. “Stop teasing and touch me already,” he snaps. Then, as if to challenge him, he adds, “Or I’ll find someone who will.”

 

The growl that rumbles from Felix’s throat is low and dangerous, and before Minho can say another word, Felix’s mouth crashes against his. It’s not gentle - it’s desperate, like Felix is staking his claim and Minho whimpers as he gives into it. When Felix pulls back from the kiss, one hand slips between them to wrap around Minho’s length and he leans down enough to speak into Minho’s ear. “Now that I’ve got you in my bed, you’re not going anywhere. Not to anyone else, and definitely not to some random guy at a party. You’re mine now, Minho.”

 

Minho gasps, his hips jerking into Felix’s hold as he moans. “Then show me.”

 

Felix moves with a focused intensity moving down the bed enough that he can work easier, his hands steady as he preps Minho with a care that borders on reverence. He’s meticulous, noting every little reaction that Minho gives him. He memorizes the way that his breath hitches when Felix crooks his fingers just right or how his legs tremble when Felix’s palm brushes against his inner thigh. “God, baby,” Felix murmurs, his voice low and full of wonder. He watches the way that Minho’s body arches against him, the sight burning itself into Felix’s memory. “You’re perfect.”

 

Minho flushes from head to toe, his hands clutching at the sheets. “You’re staring,” he teases again - though the way he whines, voice shaky and breathless, makes it lose some of the edge that he’s sure Minho had intended. 

 

Felix doesn’t stop staring, his gaze unwavering. “Can you blame me?” he replies, voice thick with awe. “You’re so…” He pauses as he finds he can’t find the right word. Instead, he leans down to kiss the inside of Minho’s knee, his lips brushing against soft skin. 

 

Minho covers his face with one hand, a sound somewhere between a groan and laugh escaping him. “You’re ridiculous,” he mumbles, though there’s no real bite to his words. 

 

Felix smirks, his fingers pressing deeper, earning him a shuddering gasp from Minho. “Maybe,” he says, “but you like it.”

 

Minho’s hand falls from his face, his dark eyes glaring weakly at Felix. “Don’t get cocky,” he warns, but the effect is ruined by the way his voice wavers and the flush that still colors his skin prettily.

 

Felix chuckles softly, but there’s an edge to it as his gaze dips back down to where his fingers are buried in Minho. He watches as Minho clenches around him, utterly mesmerized. The sight sends a jot of heat through Felix’s body, and a fleeting thought crosses his mind - he wants to capture Minho like this on film one day, when they’re more comfortable and secure in whatever this is between them.

 

The idea of photographing Minho, of preserving this intimacy in a way that’s private and meaningful stirs something in Felix. It’s not something he’d ever share with anyone else - but to have a piece of Minho to keep with him to admire whenever he wanted? He bites his lip, shaking his head to clear the thought. It’s a conversation for another time, when this moment between them isn’t so fragile. 

 

For now, Felix focuses on the way that Minho’s body reacts to his touch, how he squirms and gasps with every careful movement. He’s determined to make Minho feel as good as possible, to prove that this is more than just lust or a fleeting moment between them. “Tell me if it’s too much,” Felix murmurs, his voice soft but firm as his free hand brushes soothingly over Minho’s hip.

 

Minho nods as his lips part, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s not,” he manages to say, his voice breaking slightly. “It’s good - so good, Yongbok.”

 

Felix grins as he shifts upward enough to press a kiss to Minho’s temple at the same moment he presses his fingers into the angle that had Minho the most reactive. “Good,” he whispers. “Because I want you to feel amazing.”

 

From the way that Minho moans and arches into him, it’s clear that Felix is succeeding. Felix’s gaze never wavers from Minho, his awe nearly palpable in every lingering look and gentle touch. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper as his fingers continue to steadily work Minho open, drawing soft gasps and shivers from Minho.

 

Minho’s breath catches, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him tightly as Felix presses his lips against Minho’s neck. Felix kisses his way along the warm skin, nipping lightly before soothing the spots with his tongue. He lingers just above Minho’s collarbone, sucking a mark into his skin - one that will undoubtedly last in a visible claim that Felix doesn’t even attempt to deny wanting. “Gotta let everyone know,” Felix mutters against Minho’s skin as one of Minho’s hands tangles into his hair, his voice tinged with possessiveness. “You’re mine now.”

 

Minho lets out a shaky laugh, sounding more breathless than amused. “Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” he teases, but his voice is strained as his body arches into Felix’s touch. 

 

“Not really,” Felix replies. He smirks as he nips at Minho’s jaw. “I’ve been waiting long enough for this. If I get to have you, I’m not letting anyone forget it.”

 

Minho’s cheeks flush a deeper red and he turns his head away slightly, though it’s clear that he’s not upset. He’s simply trying to hide the fact that he’s so entirely flustered by Felix’s words. His voice is quiet, hesitant, as he asks, “How long has it been since you’ve been with someone else?”

 

Felix freezes for a split second, caught off guard by the sudden question, and his fingers still momentarily as he glances up at Minho with a furrowed brow before he pulls his hand away from Minho, nearly making Minho whine at the sudden empty feeling. “Why does that matter?”

 

Minho shrugs, though there’s something almost vulnerable in the way that the fingers of his free hand twist into the sheets. “Just curious,” he says as his gaze darts away, not meeting Felix’s eyes.

 

There’s something there that Minho’s not saying. Felix isn’t sure what it is, but he exhales as his lips curve into a small smile. He brushes a kiss against Minho’s collarbone again. “Months,” he finally admits. “Longer than I realized until now.” He hadn’t actually realized how long it had been until Minho asked; and, there was no real reason for it. He just hadn’t found anyone he wanted to be with. It hits him then that during that time, he had started to spend more time with Minho without Chan or their other mutual friends around and he files that away to contemplate later.

 

Minho hums softly, his expression unreadable for a moment before speaking again. “Then maybe… maybe we don’t need the condom?” His voice is tentative, cautious, and he glances at Felix nervously. “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

 

The words hit Felix like a jolt, and for a moment, he can’t form a coherent response. Instead, he surges forward, capturing Minho’s lips in a kiss so fervent it makes them both gasp for air. His hands frame Minho’s face, and he deepens the kiss as he pours every unspoken word and emotion into it. 

 

When they finally part for air, Minho’s breathing is uneven as he looks up at Felix. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Minho whispers, his voice trembling but heavy with the trust he’s giving to Felix.

 

Felix lets out a soft laugh as he presses his forehead against Minho’s. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “It’s a yes. It’s a yes and it’s me being even more sure that you’re going to be the death of me.” 

 

With that, Felix kisses Minho again as he slips his hand between them once more to let his fingers press back into Minho. It makes Minho gasp as his back arches and he presses himself down against Felix’s fingers. Felix breaks the kiss, ignoring the way that Minho whines about it so that he can watch Minho again and the way he reacts to Felix’s touch. “Fuck, you’re incredible,” Felix says softly as he trails his other hand along Minho’s thigh. “Wanna make this so good for you.”

 

“You already have,” Minho replies just as quietly. The look that Minho gives him in return - a mix of longing, affection, and desire - makes Felix’s heart stutter and he knows without a doubt that this moment is better than any dream his mind could have come up with.

 

The moment that Felix finally - finally , Minho breathes - pushes into him is overwhelming in every way. Minho’s breath hitches and Felix feels the tremor that runs through his body. When he looks down, he notices tears pooling in Minho’s eyes. It’s not from pain, though, Minho’s whispered assurances that he’s okay and how good he feels as he clings onto Felix makes that clear. Still, it makes Felix brush a kiss near the corner of his eye. 

 

One of Minho’s arms wraps tightly around Felix’s shoulders, the other is situated so that his fingers can thread into Felix’s hair and grip just enough to send shivers down his spine. Felix buries his face in the crook of Minho’s neck for a moment, pressing soothing kisses there as they both adjust to the feeling. Felix is sure that he’s never felt something so wonderful as the way that Minho’s body feels around him, under him, clinging to him so desperately. 

 

“God, hyung,” Felix breathes. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

 

The praise pulls a soft, needy sound from Minho’s lips, and Felix swears he could lose himself in that sound alone. Slowly, he starts to move, watching Minho’s reactions the entire time. Every gasp, every moan, every subtle twitch of Minho’s body spurs him on, urging him to go deeper, to find angles that make Minho shudder and cling even tighter to him.

 

Minho’s voice grows louder as Felix finds the perfect rhythm, his breathy moans turning into broken cries of pleasure. Felix grips Minho’s waist, holding him steady as he leans down to capture his lips in a kiss that’s more teeth and desperation than finesse. Their breaths mingle as Felix presses deeper, chasing the feeling of Minho surrounding him completely. “Yongbok,” Minho gasps, his voice trembling as his body arches beneath Felix’s. 

 

The sound of his name spilling from Minho’s lips like that - broken and breathy like it’s a prayer and the only word Minho can manage - nearly undoes Felix. He thrusts into Minho harder, his movements becoming rougher as he chases the high building inside him. The way that Minho takes everything he gives, the way he clings to Felix like he’s the only thing holding him together - it’s hotter than anything Felix has ever experienced, and it’s far better than his dreams ever were.  

 

Their lips meet again, a desperate semblance of a kiss, as Felix presses into Minho one last time, burying himself fully as he spills inside him. The sensation is overwhelming, a rush of heat and pleasure that has him trembling above Minho. Minho’s own release follows almost immediately, his body shuddering as his cries are muffled against Felix’s lips and he spills between them, coating their chests with it. Minho’s nails dig lightly into Felix’s shoulder as his climax overtakes him, and they’re both breathless and trembling.

 

Felix collapses onto Minho, his weight grounding both of them as they lie tangled up in each other’s arms. Minho’s hands never leave Felix’s body - one remains in his hair, the other running soothingly along his back, as if anchoring him with the gentle touch alone. Neither of them says anything as the room is filled with the sounds of their soft, uneven breathing. 

 

Eventually, Felix lifts his head, brushing Minho’s damp hair from his face to press a tender kiss to his forehead. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with concern.

 

Minho nods, his lips curving into a small, exhausted smile. “Better than okay,” he whispers, his voice a bit hoarse. “That was… incredible.”

 

Felix smiles, leaning down to kiss him again. The kiss is gentler this time, full of affection. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “it was.”

 

They stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, neither one wanting to move from the warmth and comfort of the moment. They kiss lazily, lips brushing softly between whispered words and occasional chuckles. Minho occasionally lets out soft gasps of overstimulation as their movements cause Felix to shift inside him, but he still keeps Felix pressed close, finding that he quite likes the feeling of being full like that. Felix groans every time, almost finding it to be too much but also not wanting to be anywhere else. Felix brushes stray strands of hair from Minho’s face, his fingers lingering as if memorizing every detail.

 

When Felix finally slips out of Minho, he whimpers softly, the sound involuntary and so intimate that it leaves him blushing furiously. Felix’s gaze darkens with affection and restrained desire. It takes everything in him not to kiss Minho breathless again, but Minho quickly buries his face in Felix’s chest, muttering something about how gross they are and how much he needs a shower.

 

Felix laughs and shakes his head fondly with a small smile on his face. “Fine, hyung,” he agrees, “but only because I don’t want you complaining about the mess later.”

 

Felix insists on Minho going first. Minho immediately disagrees, but he ultimately agrees when Felix says he’ll join Minho after he cleans up the bed so they can cuddle after. Felix doesn’t take too much time in stripping the bed to put clean sheets on, tossing the dirty ones into the clothes hamper.

 

When he joins Minho in the bathroom, Minho’s simply standing under the warm spray of the water, letting it wash over his body. Minho doesn’t jump when Felix joins him in the shower. He simply hums and leans back against Felix as Felix ducks his head to press a kiss to the top of Minho’s shoulder. “Let me take care of you, hyung,” Felix insists as he presses a kiss to the side of Minho’s neck.

 

Minho nods his head and Felix smiles as he presses a kiss behind Minho’s ear. Felix is careful with Minho as he helps Minho wash up. He lathers shampoo into Minho’s hair, his fingers working in soothing circles that make Minho hum contentedly. They chat idly as they clean up, as if this isn’t the first time they’ve done this - Felix feels a small jolt of want as he considers the idea that this is something they could have normally. Felix’s hands wander occasionally, trailing over Minho’s shoulders and down his arms or along his sides, but it’s more comforting than teasing. Minho’s not sure how he’s supposed to be able to shower alone after this.

 

When they’re both clean and feeling far less gross, they change into some clean clothes. Minho changes in the bathroom into some clothes that he borrows from Felix, wanting to take a little more time to brush his teeth with a toothbrush he’s left there in the past, and Felix changes in his room. He only puts on a pair of sleep pants before climbing into his bed to relax and wait for Minho since he often chooses to sleep without a shirt on.

 

Seeing Minho come into his bedroom a few minutes later, wearing one of his oversized sweaters and some boxers nearly undoes Felix all over again and he has to physically stop himself from yanking the clothing right back off of him.

 

“You’re dangerous,” Felix mutters as he shakes his head. 

 

Minho smirks knowingly, the blush on his cheeks a contrast to the teasing expression. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he replies. 

 

The two of them curl up together in Felix’s bed, holding onto one another as they get comfortable. The exhaustion of the night catches up to both of them rather quickly, and they drift off, holding onto each other like they’re afraid to let go.

 

In the morning, Felix wakes to the gentle sensation of Minho’s fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. He’s laying on his stomach with his arms pillowed beneath his head and the actual pillow. He doesn’t know when he ended up laying like this, and he almost wants to pout at the fact that he didn’t wake up with his arms around Minho. However, having Minho’s fingers on his skin at all is a close consolation. Felix lays there, staying still as he enjoys the warmth and the softness of the moment.

 

Eventually, curiosity gets the better of him. “Are you trying to draw something or just doodling?” Felix mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

 

Minho chuckles. Felix hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he can hear the smile in Minho’s voice as he says, “Just doodling. Your back’s a good canvas.”

 

Felix shifts just a little, opening his eyes finally to look at Minho. “Don’t tell me you’re doodling something embarrassing, hyung.”

 

Minho snorts, but he doesn’t reply, his focus still on Felix’s back. He’s laying on his side next to Felix, facing him to watch as his fingertip brushes over his warm skin. After a moment, Minho speaks again, this time his voice quieter than before with a vulnerability that Felix doesn’t think he’s ever heard before. “I’ve liked you for a long time, you know.”

 

Felix blinks, his sleepy brain slowly catching up with the weight of Minho’s words. He shifts onto his side then, facing him so that he’s looking at Minho fully. “Yeah?”

 

Minho nods, still tracing patterns idly but on Felix’s bicep, now. “But I didn’t want to… I mean I couldn’t… I was hesitant because you’re younger-”

 

“Not that much younger, hyung,” Felix interjects with a soft, teasing smile.

 

Minho rolls his eyes fondly. “And Chan’s younger brother.”

 

Felix scrunches his nose. “But not your brother. Ew, hyung.”

 

That earns him a laugh, and Minho’s expression softens even further. “Mostly I wasn’t sure if you ever saw me as more than just… just Chan’s annoying best friend. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable since I’m always around, and I-”

 

Felix doesn’t let him finish. He pulls Minho close, his hand sliding to the back of Minho’s neck as he kisses him deeply. There’s nothing uncertain about the kiss - it’s firm and full of intent, leaving Minho breathless when they part.  When Minho’s eyes flutter open again, though he’s not sure when they closed in the first place, Felix is smiling softly at him. “Be my boyfriend,” Felix says, his tone making the words more of a statement than a question.

 

Minho stares at him for a moment before his lips curve into the softest, most genuine smile Felix has ever seen. He leans in, kissing Felix again as his answer. Felix laughs into the kiss, unable to hold back the grin spreading across his face. When they finally pull apart, Minho rests his forehead against Felix’s, his smile still lingering. “Guess that’s a ‘yes’,” Felix murmurs, his eyes sparkling.

 

Minho hums, brushing his thumb over Felix’s cheek as he says, “Obviously.”

Notes:

Thank you for reading~