Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hyunjin kissed him.

In the heaps of tears, his heart racing a mile a minute, and his body trembling, Felix still couldn’t believe it to be true.

Hyunjin had actually kissed him.

He could still feel the burn of the dancer’s lips as they touched his own, a sensation mapped onto his skin with a reverence and intensity so overwhelming that Felix had barely comprehended what was happening until it was too late to recoil. His mind replayed the moments like a broken record, despite his attempts to stop.

He just wanted to understand why.

Hyunjin never acknowledged him in the past. Hell, he all but hated him weeks ago. He had to have some reason for such a sudden, violent shift in attention. But Felix, for the life of him, couldn’t understand what it could possibly be.

“He likes you, why is this so hard to believe?”

Weren’t those Jisung’s words? As he was trying to convince Felix that Hyunjin had changed his ways, because what, Felix had become his ‘favorite’?

It sounded ridiculous then, and it sounded even more ridiculous now.

Jisung didn’t know Hyunjin at all. And neither did Felix.

And it terrified him. Whatever Hyunjin’s reason was for paying close attention to him now, it scared Felix to death. He didn’t know Hyunjin like the others did. He couldn’t predict his next move or understand his rationale. All Felix could manage was to hide, because facing Hyunjin felt like an impossible task on its own.

Everything Hyunjin did felt like a trap, and Felix had never felt so unsafe and alone in someone’s presence before.

He wiped his tears with angry fists, leaving his skin burning red. Curled up on his hotel bed, the only company he had was his own reflection in the wall-sized mirror - a small, huddled form under a mountain of blankets. He’d pulled the covers over his head just like he did as a child, hiding from imaginary monsters. But this monster felt real. Hyunjin didn't even feel like a person. He never truly had to begin with.

After what felt like hours of crying, he finally reached a trembling hand out from his covers, fumbling for his phone. He unlocked it, his vision blurred by tears, and scrolled through his contacts with fingers that didn’t feel like his own. He found the name, Jisungie, and pressed call, holding the device to his ear like a lifeline.

It rang only once.

“Yongbok-ah?” Jisung’s voice was slightly breathless, a heavy beat of some rap music faint in the background. “Hey, if you’re calling about the order, I already got tteokbokki for tomorrow, don’t worry.”

Felix’s breath escaped in a ragged, wet shudder. He couldn’t even form a response.

The music cut off instantly. “...Felix?”

Another choked sound was all he could manage.

“Hey.” Jisung’s voice dropped, all casualness gone now. “Where are you? Talk to me.”

“My room,” Felix mumbled out, the word scraping his throat raw. “Are you… in yours?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. Stay there. I’m coming.”

“No!” he protested immediately. “Don’t. Don’t leave. Can...”

He couldn’t finish, but Jisung understood the fractured request nonetheless. “Yeah. Okay. Door’s unlocked. Just get here.”

The call ended. Felix pushed himself off the bed, his legs unsteady, and stumbled out of his room. He didn't even breathe until he was pushing open the already unlocked door to Room 402.

Jisung was already there, his headset discarded on his desk, his game forgotten on the monitor. He spun his chair around, and his eyes went wide at the sight. And Felix couldn’t blame him, really. He couldn’t imagine what he looked like now, dwarfed in his hoodie, face blotchy and red, eyes swimming with fresh tears, his hands trembling.

“Bokkie…” Jisung breathed, leaping up from his chair. And before Felix knew it, he was engulfed in his arms, Jisung curling around him like a second skin.

Felix fell into him, burying his face in the soft fabric of Jisung’s sweatshirt. Jisung held him tightly, one hand cupping the back of Felix’s head while the other pressed firmly between his shoulder blades.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jisung murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft and low. “I’ve got you. You’re here now. You’re okay.”

Felix just clutched at him tighter in response, breathing in Jisung’s familiar scent of fabric softener and faint cologne.

It felt like home. It felt like he was finally not so alone.

After a long moment, Jisung gently guided him further into the room and kicked the door shut. “Come on, come on.”

He pushed Felix gently onto his rumpled bed, quickly pulling the weighted blanket up and over him. He then climbed in himself, pulling Felix close, tucking Felix’s head under his chin, never minding that Felix was in his outside clothes. Jisung never truly did.

Felix couldn’t be more grateful.

Jisung didn’t prod him with questions, either, waiting for him to calm down. And with time, Felix did. Minutes passed, and Felix’s tremors began to slowly subside, soothed by the frantic but steady rhythm of Jisung’s heartbeat against his own.

“What happened, Bokkie?” Jisung asked, whispering close to Felix’s ear. “Why are you crying so much?”

Felix shook his head, pressing his face deeper into Jisung’s chest. He couldn’t form a response. Because he didn’t know how to answer without lying. Hyunjin kissed me and it felt like a violation and now I’m terrified felt too big, but too simplified. The precise, truthful answer would be, I can’t hide from him. He sees me, and I don’t understand what he sees, and it terrifies me.

But he couldn’t even admit that to himself.

So he chose not to answer at all.

And Jisung didn’t push. He just sighed and held him tighter, his fingers tracing random, comforting patterns on Felix’s arm.

Time passed, and there was barely any noise in the room except their breathing. Felix’s heart rate began to slow down, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.

Jisung spoke again.

“Your hair is getting long,” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing the strands away from Felix’s damp forehead. “You’re like Rapunzel now.”

Felix looked up, blinking. “What?”

“You are!” Jisung chuckled, looping a strand around his finger. “The cutest Rapunzel in the world.”

A flush warmed Felix’s tear-stained cheeks. “Stop it, Sung.”

But Jisung didn’t. His eyes lit up with a sudden, mischievous idea.

“Hey, do you remember the main male character’s name? The thief?”

“In Rapunzel?”

“Yeah.”

“Um… I think… Fin? Oh, no, Flynn. Flynn Rider,” Felix corrected, glancing up. “Why does it matter?”

Jisung didn’t answer, he just cleared his throat, his expression turning flirty and arrogant in a blink of an eye. He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a terrible, cheap suave imitation of Flynn Rider. “I, my dear, am your dashing thief here to rescue you. Though, to be fair, the hair is strong enough to rescue itself. A formidable weapon, really… We could take over a kingdom with this.”

Felix stared at him, bewildered. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh,” Jisung held a finger to Felix’s lips, his own twitching with the effort to stay serious. “The rogue is speaking.” He gestured at Felix’s freckles. “And what have we here? An array of freckles, each one just waiting to be stolen. I’m a thief, remember? I think I’ll take this one.” He booped a freckle on Felix’s nose. “And this one.” He poked his cheek. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to steal all of them.”

Felix laughed, swatting Jisung’s poking finger away. “You’re a terrible Flynn Rider, Sung.”

“Terrible?” Jisung clutched his chest as if wounded. “My lady, or, my lord, or my… magnificent Rapunzel, you wound me!” He leaned in again, his terrible accent slipping in and out. “I can’t help it if I’m… devastantingly handsome, and have a thing for people with cute hair.”

“Devastantingly?” Felix wheezed. “Is that even a word?”

“It is now!” Jisung declared, his own composure finally breaking as he collapsed into giggles beside Felix.

His ridiculous performance had achieved its goal. The heavy, suffocating air in the room had been replaced with something light and breathable. It felt like a weight came off Felix’s chest.

Still chuckling, Felix burrowed into Jisung’s side, seeking the solid comfort of his presence. Jisung’s arms came around him easily, holding him close. Minutes passed, neither of them speaking, the playful atmosphere slowly turning into something more soothing. Jisung pressed a series of quick, affectionate kisses to the crown of his head, his temple, his hairline, while his hand found its way back to Felix’s back, rubbing slow, soothing circles over the blanket.

Jisung’s voice was quiet when he spoke again, all traces of his exaggerated accent gone.

“Hey,” he murmured. “For real, though. If something is going on… you need to tell me, yeah? You aren’t alone, Bokkie. You know that, right?”

Felix nodded against Jisung’s chest, the movement small and feeble. “Yeah,” he whispered, the word muffled by fabric. “I know. It’s… it’s nothing, really. Just a bad dream… I’m alright now.”

It was a pathetic excuse, and they both knew it. But Jisung, wonderful friend that he was, simply accepted it. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay.”

Felix felt his eyelids grow heavy, the adrenaline crash and emotional whiplash pulling him under. The rhythm of Jisung’s breathing, the steady beat of his heart under his ear, the warmth of his embrace, it all helped him forget everything that happened mere hours ago. The anxiety and fear was still there, but it was no longer screaming. He felt like he could finally breathe now.

Time blurred and stretched. He was half in a dream, half in the safe warmth of Jisung’s bed, when he felt the soft, final press of lips against his temple.

“Love you, Bokkie.”

But Felix was already asleep, sinking into deep unconsciousness.

═══════

Felix stared at his screen, contemplating if he wanted to call Chan or not.

Two days had passed since the incident with Hyunjin in the bathroom, and it was Sunday now, a mentorship session long overdue. Felix managed to avoid going anywhere near Hyunjin, or near any of his bandmates unless they were alone, locking himself in his hotel room so nobody would disturb him. And no one did, surprisingly. Unless it was about work, and he had to go somewhere, none of his managers or his members came into his room. And he hadn’t seen Hyunjin still, which was a huge relief on its own.

But the text from Chan had shattered that fragile peace.

Hey Lix. Dance session today. 3 PM. Don’t be late. :)

Instantly, his stomach had coiled into a cold, hard knot that hadn’t loosened ever since. Hours passed since then, and the session was in ten minutes now. But the mere thought of walking into a room, of being trapped there with him, sent a jolt of pure, animal fear through his body.

He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t.

Taking a shaky breath, he finally pressed call. It felt like a coward’s move, but it was all he could do.

Chan picked up after a minute. “Lix? Hey. What’s up?”

“Hyung,” he started, his voice tighter than he intended. He cleared his throat, trying to sound casual, normal. “Hey. Uh, about the session… I’m… I’m not feeling really good. My head’s kind of… pounding. Think I might be coming down with something. Would it… would it be a huge problem if we rescheduled?”

He held his breath, waiting for a response.

There was a pause on the other end, and then he heard a soft sigh. Felix could almost see the slight frown on Chan’s face.

“Ah, Lix… I wish we could,” Chan said, his voice laced with genuine regret. “But it’s too late for that, I think. Hyunjin might even be there already. These sessions are hard enough to schedule as it is with our tour dates.”

Already there.

Felix clutched the fabric of his pants in his fist.

“Could you… could you maybe check?” Felix asked, the plea slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to cover it with a weak cough. “Just in case? I’d really hate to get him sick, too.”

Another pause, longer this time. Felix could hear the faint rustle of Chan moving, the tap of a screen. “Hang on,” Chan said. “Let me call him real quick. Don’t hang up.”

The hold music was some generic, upbeat pop song that grated on Felix’s frayed nerves. Each second stretched into an eternity. Please not be there. Please let him forget. Please let there be a miracle.

The line clicked back. “Yeah, he’s getting down there,” Chan said, his tone final. “Look, just come down. If you’re really feeling that bad, you can cut it short. It’s no problem if it lasts for only an hour, really.”

Felix inhaled deeply, the weight of disappointment crushing him. There was no way out, it seemed.

“Okay,” he whispered, the fight draining out of him.

“You know the room, right?”

“Yeah. The Yoga room.”

“Okay. Good luck, Lix!”

“Thank you, hyung.”

The call ended. Felix sat on the edge of his bed, the silence of the room suddenly oppressive.

The yoga room. A quiet, isolated space. Of course.

Could he ever catch a break?

Every instinct screamed at him to stay put, to lock the door and never come out. But the weight of obligation, of not wanting to explain everything to Chan, was heavier. With legs that felt like they belonged to someone else, he stood up.

The walk to the second floor was a blur. His heart drummed against his ribs, and as much as he reasoned with - He’s never done anything serious. He’s just a bandmate. Why are you so anxious? - he couldn’t get rid of the uneasiness in his chest.

He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to see him. Ever again, actually.

But he had to. And with quick, careful steps forward, he found the door soon enough, a simple wooden one with a small, etched ‘Om’ symbol on it. Right beside the hotel’s gym.

He stood there for a full minute, just breathing, trying to steel himself. It’s just a session. It’s just work. He can’t do anything. He’s just a bandmate.

He didn’t believe a word of it.

Finally, he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The yoga room was spacious and quiet, lit by cold lighting. The air smelled faintly of cleaning tools and sandalwood. Mats were rolled and stacked neatly against the mirrored far wall.

And in the far middle, leaning back against the wall, stood Hyunjin, his arms crossed over his chest.

Felix’s heart stopped a beat then.

He had his hair up, a few strands falling in front of his eyes. He seemed tired, dressed in loose sweatpants and a baggy shirt, the collar slipping to reveal a sharp collarbone.

Just as Felix took a step back, ready to flee from the room, Hyunjin looked up slowly, his gaze traveling over Felix’s form.

Felix held his breath, his eyes growing wide, frozen as Hyunjin assessed him.

His gaze felt like a physical touch. It started at his shoes, a slow, assessing sweep up his legs, over his tense torso, pausing on his hands, which were clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides. The gaze finally, inevitably, reached his face, and Felix was certain Hyunjin could see the wild flutter of the pulse in his throat.

A minute passed in pure, uncomfortable silence. Hyunjin didn’t speak, and all Felix could do was stare, his heart in his mouth.

Just as the tension felt unbearable, Hyunjin finally stirred.

He pushed himself off the wall, his every movement slow and deliberate as he moved to the corner of the room.

“I’m not doing anything, Felix,” he said, his voice quiet, soft, as if speaking to a wounded animal. He sat down on the floor, crossing his legs and showing his palms as Felix tracked his every move. “See? You don’t have to be scared.”

Felix wasn’t buying it. He took another step back, his lips a thin line.

Hyunjin sighed. “How do you want this session to go?”

“What?”

“I’ll do whatever you want. So, tell me, how do you want this session to go?”

Felix stared at him, contemplating if he was serious or not. But Hyunjin just smiled at him, seeming genuine.

So he took his chance. He had nothing to lose anyway.

“Don’t talk to me. Unless I ask you something. Don’t… Just let me be. I want to do this alone.”

He expected pushback. An argument. A reason why that defeated the purpose of a mentorship session.

Instead, Hyunjin simply nodded, his expression unreadable. “Okay,” he agreed, his voice still soft. He even offered a small, polite smile. “Whatever you need.”

The easy compliance was unnerving. Was this a trap? But… why did it even matter if it was? It wasn’t like the situation could get worse.

After a beat of hesitation, Felix moved to the speakers, his movements stiff and jerky. He kept Hyunjin in his peripheral vision at all times, his body angled away. Plugging in his phone felt like a monumental task, even if Hyunjin never looked at him once. He selected a song randomly, his finger trembling slightly before he hit play.

The first beats of a familiar practice track filled the room, too loud in the tense silence.

Felix began to move. The first steps were stiff, his legs feeling like wood. He fumbled a turn, his footing unsure. And he immediately froze, glancing at Hyunjin, his eyes wide, expecting some barked-out command to do it again.

But Hyunjin wasn’t even looking at him. He didn’t even speak. He had simply leaned back against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest. His eyes were shut, lashes dark against his skin, and his head was resting on a wall. Only the slow, deliberate rise and fall of his chest betrayed that he was awake at all.

Felix frowned, confused, but he didn’t dwell on Hyunjin any longer, all too grateful for his silence.

He was just here to dance and leave. That’s all he had to do. Hyunjin’s change of behavior didn’t matter at all.

So he continued dancing, the music filling the space between them. Felix lost his balance for a moment, landing with an ungraceful thud that echoed in the quiet room. And, out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Hyunjin’s jaw tightened just for a fraction of a second, but he seemed to suppress his reaction instantly. He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t even move at all.

Felix stood up, going back to the dance immediately. He avoided looking anywhere near Hyunjin, desperate to finish the session and go back to the safety of his room.

Slowly, incrementally, the music began to work its magic. The rhythm seeped into Felix’s muscles, overriding the panic signals from his brain. His movements became less defensive, more fluid.

He almost forgot Hyunjin was there in the room.

An hour passed, the notes of a track fading into silence. Hyunjin hadn’t moved once, curled up in the corner, as if he wasn’t even there. Felix focused on his own reflection at all times, correcting his movements, trying his best to be precise as a distraction.

And, as time passed, his lungs burned, and every muscle protested as he finally stopped dancing. He had to take a break.

Moving to the opposite corner from where Hyunjin sat, Felix lowered himself to the floor with an audible, weary groan. "Ah..." he exhaled, the sound ragged as he slumped against the cool wall. He tipped his head back, eyes closed, his chest heaving as he dragged in great gulps of air.

But, almost immediately, the awareness of the other presence rushed back in. His eyes snapped open, and his head turned sharply, a jolt of nerves returning in a split second.

Hyunjin was still there, sitting at the same corner of the room, his eyes still closed. He hadn’t moved an inch. His whole face was relaxed.

And it was… odd.

Felix wasn’t used to seeing him so vulnerable. He almost seemed...

Small.

But it wasn’t disarming at all. If anything, it unnerved Felix even more.

He looked at the way Hyunjin had curled on himself, like he was trying to take up less space just for the sake of not scaring him away. The sharp angles of his face were softened in the dim light, and he simply seemed… tired. His shoulders were down, and there was a furrow in his brow. Felix noticed how his hands were resting loosely on his knees, too, his palms up in that same open, non-threatening gesture.

Every line of his body was communicating one thing: I am not a danger to you.

It was so calculated. It felt like another trap. To gain trust, to make himself seem like someone he wasn’t.

And, as much as Felix tried to deny it, it was working.

Felix hadn’t even noticed how comfortable he felt till now, his heart not beating so frantically anymore. He could look at Hyunjin without feeling anxious, too. The primal urge to flee had slowly gone away. His subconscious, worn down by an hour of zero threat, had begun to see the man across as still, quiet, and most importantly, not dangerous enough to be scared of. Even if Felix knew that was a lie.

“Why…” Felix spoke without even meaning to. He cleared his throat, licking his dry lips. He didn’t finish. Why are you acting like this now? What do you want?

Felix felt sudden exhaustion washing over him. He didn’t want to be here anymore.

“I…” His voice was stronger now, laced with a desperate need for escape. “I want to go.” He pushed himself up, his muscles protesting. “Channie-hyung said it was okay if we don’t do the session fully. He said I could… if I wasn’t feeling well.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He stood up, walking quickly to the speaker. He yanked his phone cord out and shoved it into his pocket. As he reached the door, his hand on the cool metal handle, he hesitated. A confusing, compulsive need made him glance back.

Hyunjin hadn’t moved. He hadn’t done anything, actually. And from this angle, he seemed smaller, more vulnerable, even if Felix knew that this was just a trap. An illusion.

But he seemed defenseless. Like Felix could do all he wanted now, and Hyunjin would be unable to stop him.

The image was so at odds with the monster Felix knew that, for a second, he froze, looking at Hyunjin with wide, bewildered eyes.

Did Hyunjin regret what he did? Was he just trying to make things better?

He didn’t wait to figure out the answer, wrenching the door open and bolting out of the room.

And, as the day passed, now in the safety of his room, a new, unbidden emotion sparked in him.

Guilt.

What if Hyunjin was trying to express his feelings in the only way he knew how? And here Felix was, immediately assuming it was a trap and never giving him the benefit of the doubt like he would to any other person, because, in reality, he had never empathized with Hyunjin as a human being. He had stripped him of everything that made him a person and filtered his actions solely to confirm his bias, that Hyunjin was indeed, a monster.

But Hyunjin had helped him countless times before. Maybe not gently, but he had…

But Hyunjin was not kind. He had insulted him numerous times, threatened him when he refused to do what he said, and all but violated him in the bathroom just a couple of days before.

He still made Felix feel like he was hunted, just by looking at him.

So he didn’t dwell on the guilt, trying to smother it as soon as he recognized it, almost ashamed of his reaction. Hyunjin didn’t deserve his empathy. It was just a performance. Hyunjin couldn’t be trusted. Felix would be stupid to assume otherwise.

As much as he tried, the guilt didn’t go away. The image of Hyunjin’s curled-up form haunted him for the rest of the day.

═══════

“Felix.”

Felix flinched, caught in the middle of his skincare routine.

“Felix!”

It was the voice of their head manager, noona. Her tone was bright, professional, but it still made his pulse jump. He took a steadying breath, wiping his face with a towel before padding to the door.

He opened it, and their manager, Iseul, stood there with a warm, concerned smile. She greeted him with a nod, Felix returning the gesture, slightly confused as to what she needed so early, when the day had barely even started yet.

“Hey, Felix. Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s okay, noona,” he said, his voice still a little hoarse. “What’s up?”

“I was just checking in,” she said, her eyes doing a quick, professional sweep of him. “I wanted to see if you were free. The medical team is at the hotel today and asked if they could pop in to see you.”

Felix’s brow furrowed. “The medical team? Why?”

Iseul’s smile became a touch more apologetic. “Just a routine check in, but they also mentioned your energy seemed a bit low during the last show. Your stamina seemed weak. They just want to make sure you’re recovering properly. Are you free now?”

The explanation was warm, delivered with kindness, but it felt like criticism nonetheless.

Weak. Low energy.

And Iseul was probably right, Felix couldn’t deny that. After the dance session with Hyunjin and the concert that followed two days after, he had been more absentminded than usual, moving through the concert with way less energy than he used to. Hyunjin hadn't bothered him at all, if anything, he was giving him space, maintaining a careful distance, but his mere presence and all the confusion had been its own kind of exhaustion. He’d been so consumed with everything that was going on that he hadn't considered it was impacting his performance.

“Oh,” was all he could manage. “Uh, yeah. Sure. They can come up.”

“Great. I’ll send them right in.”

Within minutes, there was another knock. Felix opened the door to a man and a woman he recognized instantly, Jaewon and Minjung, two members of their dedicated touring medical team. They were both dressed in comfortable, professional attire, their familiar medical kits in hand.

“Hey, Felix,” Jaewon said, his voice calm and familiar. “Mind if we come in? Just a quick check-in.”

“Yeah, of course,” Felix said, stepping aside to let them into the room.

The check-up was efficient and quick. Minjung checked his blood pressure and heart rate while Jaewon asked him gentle questions.

“How’s the sleep been? Any trouble switching off after the shows?”

“A bit.”

“Appetite okay? You feeling like you’re getting enough fuel?”

“Yeah,” Felix said, the lie tasting like ash on his tongue.

Minjung gave Jaewon a slight, almost imperceptible shake of her head after taking his pulse. Felix grimaced, knowing this wasn’t going to end well.

“Alright, Felix,” Jaewon said, his demeanor shifting slightly from casual to professional now. “We’re going to do a quick finger-prick test, just to check your levels. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

The prick was quick, and Felix barely felt anything on his skin. They waited a moment for the small monitor to display the results.

Jaewon looked at the number, then at his colleague, his expression neutral but his eyes serious. He turned back to Felix.

“Well, there’s no sign of a sickness or anything like that,” he started, and Felix felt a brief wave of relief that was instantly quashed. “However,” Jaewon continued, his voice calm but firm, “your cortisol levels are quite high. That’s your body’s main stress hormone.”

He gestured to the screen of his device. “And with that, your blood sugar is lower than we’d like to see. It’s not an emergency yet, but it’s dangerously near it. Are you sure you’ve been eating enough?”

Felix nodded mutely, guilt twisting in his gut.

He’d been caught.

Jaewon turned his attention to Iseul, who had been waiting quietly by the door. “There’s no illness, but he’s showing signs of caloric deficit and severe exhaustion, which is caused by stress. My strong recommendation is immediate nutritional intervention and rest. He needs to recover or else he will collapse any day now.”

Iseul’s warm smile was gone, replaced by a look of genuine concern. She nodded, her expression serious. “I understand. We’ll adjust his schedule immediately.”

Jaewon gave Felix a firm but kind look. “You need to listen to what your body is telling you, Felix. This isn’t going to go well if you don’t.”

Felix just nodded, the words immediate nutritional intervention echoing in his mind.

How could he let himself slip so easily? How could he let himself become a liability?

Manager Iseul, her phone already in her hand, gave the medical team a grateful nod. “Thank you both. We’ll take it from here.” As the medics packed their kits and left with quiet assurances to Felix to rest up, Iseul excused herself. “I need to make a call. I’ll be right outside.”

Felix sat on the edge of his bed, the silence in the room roaring in his ears. He could hear the low, urgent murmur of Iseul’s voice in the hallway, the words inaudible but the tone clear, and it wasn’t anything good. Felix already felt like a failure before Iseul even said a word.

A few minutes later, she returned to his room, her expression calm and professional.

“Okay, Felix,” she said, her voice warm. “I’ve just spoken with the company. We’re working on clearing your schedule for the next week.”

He couldn’t process what she was saying at first. Then the meaning slammed into him. “The… the next week?” he stammered, his heart seizing. “Noona, the concerts in London-“

“-will be handled,” she finished smoothly, though her eyes were soft with sympathy. “The choreography will be adjusted. The other members will cover your parts. Your only job is to rest.”

Panic, cold and sharp, ran through him instantly.

Being pulled from a concert wasn’t a break, not at all. What would the fans think? What would the team think? What about the other members? How could he explain this to all of them without feeling like a failure?

“No, please,” he said, his voice rising with desperation. He stood up, his legs feeling weak. “I can do it. I’ll eat more, I promise. I’ll-I’ll get my energy back. Just don’t pull me from the schedule. I can’t just… Not now, noona, please.”

Iseul shook her head, her decision final. “Felix, this isn’t a punishment. The doctor was very clear. You pushing through is what would truly let the team down right now.” She moved toward the door. “I’ll have meals sent up on a strict schedule. Please, for once, just be still, okay? Rest.”

Felix didn’t answer, and Iseul sighed, walking to him to gently pat him on his back. “I’ll go now. See you later, yeah?”

Felix nodded quietly, unsure what to say.

And with that, she was gone, closing the door softly behind her.

His face immediately dropped, disappointment and dread heavy on his shoulders. He didn’t want this. A week was too much. What was he expected to do now, sit there and do nothing? And would his members be all over him again, when they find out what caused a break?

He didn’t let himself indulge in self-pity, going back to the bathroom to finish his routine, trying not to dwell on the thoughts. After all, this was just a direct consequence of his own actions. He had no right to feel sad now. It was no one’s fault but his own.

And, just hours after the medical team visited his room, the band’s management made a new post on social media, apologizing for the inconvenience.

Felix stared at it on his phone, barely holding back a sob.

“Hello, this is JYPE.

We are informing you that Stray Kids member Felix will be unable to participate in upcoming schedules due to health concerns. After experiencing symptoms of illness, he has been advised by medical staff to rest and recover.

As a result, Felix will not be performing at the Stray Kids’ Wembley Stadium concert in London next week. We sincerely apologize to fans for the sudden notice and ask for your kind understanding.

Thank you.”

═══════

“Felix, you should eat.”

Felix burrowed himself further into the blanket, trying to disappear from the leader’s watchful gaze.

“No, Felix,” Chan said again, firmer this time. The bed dipped as he sat down, his hand warm through the fabric as he patted Felix’s back. “Eat, please. I know it’s difficult, but please try. Noona’s orders, remember?”

Felix let out a grunt, closing his eyes shut as if in pain. “I know, hyung. I just can’t right now.”

“Have you tried?”

“Minho and Binnie-hyung were here before you. I just can’t. Sorry.”

He was sincere in his apology, at least. Eating felt like an impossible task now, even if all his hyungs came after the incident with noona, appearing to be worried about his health. Iseul probably explained the situation and told them to help him, knowing how much Felix struggled to eat under stress, on top of everything else.

As much as they tried, Felix felt suffocated under their caring gaze, which made eating even harder. Not even Changbin’s pleading, “Please, Yongbok-ah, for me?” or Minho’s practical, “If you don’t eat, the break will go to waste. You’ll fall behind schedule even more, Bokkie,” had worked.

Felix just couldn’t stomach anything now. He promised others that he would eat when he was less stressed, and they eventually seemed to buy his excuse. But Chan, as insistent as he was, was too worried to do so. He had been in his room for nearly half an hour, trying to make him eat the porridge their team left in Felix’s room.

Chan’s hand rubbed circles on his back, patient, almost pleading. Felix could imagine the frown, the way his curls hid the worry in his gaze, which was undoubtedly heavy with disappointment, too.

Felix curled away from the touch, shame coiling in his gut like poison.

“Lix, I know it feels like the end of the world right now,” Chan murmured. “But it’s not. A week is nothing. One concert is nothing. You’ll recover, and we’ll move on. Don’t punish yourself over this, yeah?”

Felix shook his head underneath the covers, knowing that was just a sweet lie.

Chan tried again, pleading. “Just a few bites. For me. Please.”

Felix peeked out from under the blanket, guilt tightening his chest. “Okay,” he whispered, if only to stop the pleading.

Chan smiled at him, his expression brightening. He stood up, taking the bowl from the nightstand, offering it to him. “Take it slow. No rush.”

Felix sat up slowly, the room tilting, and took the offered spoon. The porridge looked cold, smelling bland and harmless. But when he lifted a spoonful to his lips, his stomach revolted instantly.

It tasted bitter and metallic, sitting like a stone on his tongue. He grimaced, pushing the bowl away. “No, no, hyung. I can’t.”

Chan’s shoulders slumped, his lips pressed into a thin line. He took the bowl back before it spilled, setting it down gently. He seemed disappointed. Felix stared at his lap, his fingers twitching as he searched for something to ground him, to make him feel less alone and ashamed.

And after a long pause, Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “How do I make you eat, Lix? Tell me. Do you want something else? Something different to eat? We can order anything you want.”

Felix swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“No, no. Just… give me time. Please. I’ll eat. Just… not now.”

“When, Felix? You should already have eaten two hours ago.”

“I know. Sorry… I’m sorry, hyung.”

Chan studied him for a moment, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. Finally, he sighed again, heavier this time, and stood. “Alright,” he muttered. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Instead of leaving, he walked across the room and slid the glass balcony door open, stepping in. Felix watched him, curled under his blanket. Chan leaned against the railing, his back rising and falling as if he were tired beyond words. Felix heard another sigh, then saw Chan take his phone from his pocket and press it to his ear.

Immediately, he tensed up, eyes wide as he watched Chan make the call. He couldn’t make out the full sentences, just the low, deep rumble of Chan’s voice.

"... Yeah, um... Are you… No, he’s... Can you come? Yeah. I just... I need you here."

A pause. Felix held his breath.

"... Thank you… I’ll wait… Okay."

Chan slid his phone back into his pocket then, walking out the balcony, shutting the door with a quiet click. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking at Felix’s bundled form.

Felix’s heart beat like a trapped bird against his ribs. "Who... who was that, hyung?"

Chan didn't meet his eyes, gaze on the floor. "Hyunjin," he said, the name dropping into the room like a stone. His tone was calm, matter-of-fact, as if he were commenting on the weather.

Felix’s breath stuttered, looking at Chan, his eyes wide.

No. What… Why?

"No," Felix breathed out, panicked. He pushed himself up on his elbows, the blanket falling to his waist. "Hyung, no. Why? Why would you call him?"

"Because it worked last time," Chan said, his voice frustratingly gentle. He finally looked at Felix, his gaze earnest. "I checked on you. After he came into the room, you finished the broth I gave you. You actually ate something. I don’t know why, but you listened to him."

Felix stared at him, horror dawning.

“But-“

“No buts, Felix,” Chan cut in. “Sorry to say this, but you leave me with no choice. It’s either Hyunjin or I’m contacting noona, and you’ll have to answer to her.”

All the defiance died in Felix’s throat. He instinctively wanted to choose Iseul over Hyunjin, but he knew better. He didn’t want further problems with his manager.

“Okay,” he whispered, the word barely audible.

Chan’s shoulders sagged with relief. “It’s going to be alright, Bokkie,” he soothed, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “He just wants to help. We all just want you to be okay.”

Yeah. As if.

Felix didn’t answer. He curled onto his side, turning his back to Chan and pulling the blanket over his head, hiding behind a feeble fortress of fabric. Inside his cocoon, he could hear the frantic, rabbit-quick rhythm of his own heart.

Chan didn’t speak, and Felix didn’t say a word, either. Time stretched and warped. Each tick of the clock on the nightstand was an agony. Twenty minutes passed. Then twenty-five. A fragile, desperate hope began to spark in Felix’s chest. Maybe he isn’t coming. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he just doesn’t care enough to show up.

Let it be true. Please.

Thirty minutes went with no sound from the hallway, still. Chan finally broke the silence with a weary sigh, the sound of it filling the space. Felix heard the soft rustle as the leader pushed himself to his feet.

“Maybe he forgot,” Chan murmured, more to himself than to Felix. “I’ll just give him a call.”

But just as Chan’s fingers brushed his phone, a sharp, decisive knock echoed through the room.

Hyunjin.

The spark of hope was instantly gone, replaced by a cold wave of dread. Felix squeezed his eyes shut as Chan crossed the room and opened the door.

Why couldn’t luck be on his side for once in his damn life?

“Jin! We were waiting for you for a while. What happened?”

“Hey,” came a low, weary voice that was unmistakably Hyunjin’s. “Sorry. Something came up.”

Felix peeked out from his blanket, glancing at Hyunjin, curiosity getting the best of him.

And what a sight Hyunjin was.

The dancer looked… awful. He was dressed in loose fitting clothes, which had faint paint stains all over the sleeves. His hair was a mess, with dark strands falling across his forehead. But it was his face that was most startling. The sharp edges were still there, but he looked exhausted. There were dark, bruise-like shadows under his red-rimmed eyes, as if he were forcing himself to stay awake all day long. His skin was pale, almost waxy.

He looked, for the first time Felix could ever remember, completely and utterly drained.

Felix stared at him, curious. What happened to you? He wanted to ask, but he held his tongue, tracking Hyunjin’s every move.

Chan ushered him in quietly. “It’s fine. Thanks for coming.”

Hyunjin’s gaze swept the room with a slow, mechanical effort, completely bypassing Chan. It landed on Felix, and he immediately yanked the blanket back up to his nose, hiding away.

But Hyunjin’s eyes didn’t hold their usual analytical sharpness or predatory glint. Instead, they moved over Felix with a kind of weary assessment, as if he were making a tired diagnosis. They flicked from Felix’s face to the untouched bowl of porridge on the nightstand, then back to Felix. He didn’t look angry or impatient, either. He just looked… deeply, profoundly tired.

He let out a long, slow sigh, the sound full of a world-weariness that seemed too old for him. He ran a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Hyung,” he said, his voice flat and devoid of usual politeness. “Can you give us a minute?”

Chan hesitated, looking between Hyunjin’s exhausted form and Felix’s wide eyes. “Are you sure? I can just-”

“Please,” Hyunjin interrupted. He didn’t even look at Chan, his tired eyes still fixed on Felix. “Just a few minutes.”

After a beat, Chan nodded. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he said, more to Felix than to Hyunjin, before stepping out and closing the door shut.

The silence that settled was thick and heavy. Hyunjin didn’t move from his spot. He just stood there, looking at him as if he were a problem he no longer had the energy to solve.

“Grab the bowl.”

Felix shook his head. “No.”

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Grab the bowl.”

Felix didn’t respond. From under the blanket, he could feel the intensity of Hyunjin’s gaze, even if it was tired and dragged out. He fidgeted in his bed, uncomfortable.

With a shaky, resigned breath, Felix slowly pushed the blanket down. He didn't look at Hyunjin, keeping his eyes fixed on the far wall as his hand snaked out from his fortress of covers. His fingers trembled as they closed around the ceramic of the bowl. He pulled it onto the bed, into his lap, staring down at the cold porridge.

He wanted to get this over with. This was suffocating. It felt like he had no air left to breathe anymore.

He saw Hyunjin raise a single brow, visibly annoyed. "What are you waiting for? Eat."

"Shut-"

"I don’t have enough patience today," Hyunjin cut him off. "Eat, please."

The last of his resistance crumbled. Felix could feel tears of shame welling in his eyes but he held them back, unwilling to give in. He picked up the spoon with an unsteady hand, his vision blurry.

He ate. Each spoonful was a struggle, thick and tasteless, sticking in his throat. He ignored the bile coming up his throat as he focused on his task, shoving the cold spoonfuls in his mouth, determined to finish it as fast as possible to no longer be near Hyunjin anymore.

He glanced up occasionally, checking if Hyunjin was still there. But the dancer hadn't moved at all. He just watched, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He didn’t look pleased. He didn’t show any emotion, really. He seemed to just wait for Felix to finish his meal so he could leave.

It was obvious he didn’t want to be here, too.

When the last scrap was gone, Felix placed the spoon in the bowl with a soft clink, his hands shaking. He kept his head down, unable to meet Hyunjin's eyes.

He heard a soft exhale.

"Good. Goodbye, Felix."

And before Felix could even muster the anger to spit out a usual "Fuck you," Hyunjin was already turning. He opened the door and stepped out, not even waiting for a response.

Felix sat frozen, the empty bowl heavy in his lap, listening to the muffled voices in the hallway.

"…thanks, Jin. Really. I owe you one," came Chan's voice, light with relief. “But.. Are you-“

"Have a good day, hyung." Hyunjin's voice was already fading, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

Felix stared at the door, deeply unsettled. His fingers clenched tighter around the bowl in his lap, knuckles white, the taste of the porridge still lingering like ash on his tongue.

Chan came back in a moment later, closing the door softly behind him. He looked lighter, relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. “See?” he said with a small smile. “You did it. You ate. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Felix couldn’t answer. His stomach churned, his mind replaying the way Hyunjin had left without another word, like he hadn’t even been there at all.

Something was wrong.

Chan took the bowl from his lap and set it aside. “Rest, Lix, yeah? You did good.”

But Felix didn’t feel like he did. He curled back under the blanket, staring at the door where Hyunjin had disappeared, the echo of his footsteps still in his ears.

═══════

The week was going excruciatingly slow.

They were in London now, the members getting ready for the upcoming show. It was all happening fast: the staff was busy, making sure everything was intact, the members were either in practice rooms or somewhere in the middle of the chaos of stylists and managers, talking to them about the tour. They were all moving with urgency, with intent, all except Felix himself, who felt like he was hanging off them like a leech, watching them from afar while he did nothing at all.

After what happened with Hyunjin that day, eating hadn’t been a problem, all because he didn’t want Chan to call him again. And he tried his best not to throw it up, either, knowing that the doctors would check on him at the end of his break, and he didn’t want to take more time off.

The stress had gone away, too. As much as he was bored, doing the bare minimum - just sleeping, eating, stretching, and then sleeping again - he felt a strange sense of relief. It was like a pressure that had been released. Hyunjin never bothered him, and he barely saw him to begin with, so the constant, gnawing anxiety that had been his companion for months had quieted down. The break was helping physically, too.

But the loneliness was a different kind of ache. It persisted even when his members checked on him, which they did, constantly. Minho would bring him soup, Changbin would drag him to the sofa to watch a movie, Jisung would chatter about nothing just to fill the silence. Yet, he felt separated from them by an invisible pane of glass. They were in the world, moving, working, living. He was just there. Watching.

But he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. Just three days, and the break would end. It was just three days. This wasn’t something worth feeling depressed over.

But his emotions were hard to control.

He was on the floor’s balcony now, the cool night air a relief against his skin. It was three a.m., the city quiet and eerie below. All his bandmates were in their rooms, resting for the long day ahead, but Felix couldn’t sleep, knowing it was the day of the concert that he had to miss.

He didn’t know how long he had been here. Maybe an hour. Nobody was with him, which he was grateful for. He hadn’t mentioned anything to his members, but he noticed how they pitied him, even if they tried to hide it under suffocating care, which only grated on his raw nerves. All he wanted was to be alone.

And for a moment, he was.

But then the scent of tobacco hit him.

Felix’s breath caught in his throat. Slowly, almost against his will, he turned his head. He looked around the balcony, and he didn’t have to look for long.

There, leaning against the railing, his back to Felix, was Hyunjin. The tip of a cigarette glowed a fierce, angry orange in the dark, like a tiny star burning between his slender fingers.

Felix froze instantly, his body locking up. The fragile calm he’d been clinging to shattered. Every instinct screamed at him to leave the balcony, but his feet felt rooted to the spot. Hyunjin hadn’t turned, either. He seemed utterly absorbed in the city lights below, or perhaps in his own thoughts, his posture relaxed as he took long drags of the cigarette, the smoke curling lazily in the air.

He looked as exhausted as Felix remembered him, shoulders slumped, his profile pale and drawn in the darkness. He gave no sign that he knew Felix was there, so Felix forcibly dragged his gaze away, a deep frown etching itself onto his face.

What is he doing out here at three in the morning? The question coiled, cold and uneasy, in his gut. Shouldn't he be asleep?

What if…?

But the mere thought of it, that his presence here wasn't a coincidence at all, sent a fresh chill snaking down Felix’s spine. Against his better judgment, he looked at him again.

He watched, motionless, as Hyunjin brought the cigarette to his lips. Hyunjin took a long, slow drag, the movement languid and heavy with fatigue.

Felix spoke before he even realized he did.

“We’re not allowed to smoke outdoors.”

Hyunjin exhaled a stream of smoke into the night. “It’s three a.m.”

“That’s not the point. The rule is-”

“Who gives a shit, Felix.”

Silence stretched between them. Felix’s jaw clenched, frustration already simmering in his gut. After minutes of stillness, he saw from his periphery as Hyunjin walked to a trash bin, crushed the cigarette butt, and returned to his spot to light a second one.

Felix breathed in, watching Hyunjin dig into his pockets for a lighter. His thumb pressed hard on the edge, and a small flame sprang to life. Hyunjin, with the cigarrete in his mouth, leaned down to meet it. The end of the the stick glowed a fierce orange as he inhaled, the light illuminating the tiredness of his face for a brief moment before he exhaled a plume of smoke that was lost in the breeze.

Suddenly, Felix felt a sense of urgency, all the questions that had been bothering him before already on his tongue.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Hyunjin didn’t answer right away. He took a long drag, leaning heavily against the railing. “Not now.”

“Answer me.”

Hyunjin finally glanced over, his expression grim. “I said I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re in the mood to follow me out here, though?” Felix snapped, his voice rising.

“We share a floor. Was I supposed to go to another balcony to smoke?”

That dismissiveness was the final straw.

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?”

Hyunjin looked at him, his gaze utterly flat. “When have I ever said I wasn’t?”

The calm agreement was like gasoline on a fire.

Felix almost saw red, all the frustration, anger, and confusion boiling over.

"Are you even proud of it?" His voice rose, sharp and unfeeling. "Is this who you want to be, really? Nobody can tolerate you now, Hyunjin. The only reason why you’re still here is because of your looks."

He expected a reaction, but Hyunjin showed none of it. He just inhaled the smoke, turning back to look at the sky.

“Wow, what a revelation.”

The momentum of his anger stalled instantly. Felix stared at him. “What?”

Hyunjin sighed, taking another drag of the cigarette, inhaling it for a long moment before blowing it out into the cold air.

“I’m not in the mood, Felix.”

…What?

Felix continued to look at him, his eyes wide. He swallowed a lump in his throat, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions he refused to name.

Did I actually… Did I actually say that to Hyunjin’s face? But he didn’t mean it… He swore he didn’t.

Why did I let my control slip so easily?

"You can't just- You honestly believe that?" he asked, his voice cracking.

“Oh, don’t act like a saint now,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice devoid of any emotion. “You’re only attracted to me because of my looks, too.”

“I’m not-”

“Shut up.”

The air left Felix’s lungs. He couldn’t utter a word.

Because Hyunjin was right, wasn’t he?

The only reason why he was still attracted to Hyunjin was his beauty. Hell, he didn’t even see him as a human being most of the time. It had nearly nothing to do with who he was as a person.

And the worst part was that Hyunjin wasn’t even attacking him now. There was no sadness, self-pity, or disgust in his words. He simply stated the fact as if he were saying that the sky was blue.

The fight drained out of Felix all at once, replaced by a wave of nausea so strong he had to grip the sofa underneath.

“You’re not denying it,” Hyunjin observed, his voice flat.

Felix found his voice, but it was only a whisper. “That’s not… It’s not like that at all.“

“We all can’t have noble intentions. It’s alright,” Hyunjin cut in, his voice soft, his gaze fixed on the streets, blowing out the smoke.

Silence fell, thick and heavy. Felix stared at the floor, Hyunjin’s words echoing. It’s alright. But it wasn’t. It was a horrifying realization. Not necessarily because Felix blamed himself for being attracted to Hyunjin, but because it made him feel like he was dehumanizing him as a mere object. Like all the times he had done before, when he fit him into his idea of what a monster would be.

And what he said now to Hyunjin too… He would have never said it to anyone else, and he knew it.

It made him feel vile.

How could he let himself…?

Felix felt a pressure behind his eyes but fought the tears, his face instead quickly shifting into an expression of pure distress. He tried to stifle a shaky breath, but it was too loud in the quiet night.

Hyunjin heard it. He turned his head slowly, eyeing him. His lip curled in disgust, but he didn’t say a word.

Silence fell on the balcony once again, only disturbed by the voices of the streets below.

But suddenly, Hyunjin let out a short, exasperated sigh. He stubbed his cigarette on the rail. Without a word, he walked over, picked up a napkin from the nearby table, and handed it out to him.

“Here.”

Felix didn’t move.

“Stop being pathetic,” Hyunjin said, his tone offering no comfort.

That sparked a flicker of defiance. Felix looked up, his eyes narrowing into a glare. “You can leave.”

Hyunjin didn’t answer, just let out another sigh, which sounded even more tired than before. He took a second to compose himself before he sank into the sofa opposite Felix, crossing his legs, watching him with his sharp gaze. And Felix didn’t hear anything from him afterwards. Hyunjin just sat there, not saying anything.

When Felix’s shaky breaths began to even out slightly, Hyunjin spoke again, his voice low, slicing through the air.

“You only want my body.”

Felix’s head snapped up. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“It wasn’t a question,” Hyunjin interrupted, his gaze unwavering. He held Felix’s eyes for a moment, slowly blinked, seemingly out of tiredness, and he smiled then, but it lacked all emotion and warmth.

“Lucky for you,” he continued, the words tinged with a dark, sharp amusement. “You can have it.”

Felix could only stare, the statement so blunt it took a moment to process. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Hyunjin held his gaze. “How long have you liked me, Felix?”

“Why-”

“Answer the question.”

A flicker of anger returned. Felix stood up, about to leave. But Hyunjin’s voice stopped him.

“I’m guessing it’s been years? You reacted to me instinctively. You couldn’t even run away. That doesn’t happen overnight.”

Felix turned his head slowly, sneering down at him. “What’s your point?”

“Nothing. You want me, I want you. What’s there to lose?”

“You don’t want me, Hyunjin. You all but hated me until now.”

“I would have never kissed you if I didn’t want you.”

Felix held his gaze, searching for a lie. But Felix knew there was none. Because logically, Hyunjin was right. He was anything but a player. Felix had never seen him show romantic or even sexual interest in anyone. Hell, most of the band just assumed he was asexual, including Felix.

There was no force on earth that would make Hyunjin kiss him that day other than his own desire.

“Why?” The word escaped Felix’s lips, his voice desperate. “Why me? After all this time… why?”

Hyunjin just shrugged, a slow, languid movement. His eyes, though tired, were intensely focused on Felix. “Do I need to explain why I’m attracted to you? Do I need to have noble intentions, too?”

He pushed himself up then, standing to his full height. Felix took an involuntary step back, his heart hammering against his ribs. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. A faint, knowing smile touched Hyunjin’s lips.

“I’m not forcing anything on you,” he said, his voice low and clear. “But my offer still stands. Come to me whenever you want.”

Felix could only stare, unsettled. Every instinct screamed danger, but he remained on his spot, unmoving. He couldn’t even form a coherent thought, let alone an answer.

Seeing his silence, Hyunjin sighed softly, exhausted. He gave Felix a single, slow nod, his expression unreadable once more.

Then, he stepped past him, his shoulder brushing lightly against Felix’s as he moved toward the balcony door. The brief contact sent a jolt through Felix’s spine.

“Goodbye, Felix.”