Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

This should have been his last time visiting this place, seeing bodies glide on each other and dancing like the tides in the ocean, but he couldn't care less. He knew he wouldn't regret his decisions anyway, no matter what the decision was.

It wasn't like having a future was a guarantee either. He could be dead by tomorrow for all he knew.

Hyunjin chuckled, almost as if in pain, threading his fingers through his long hair and resting his forehead on his palms. The bar's sticky counter clung to his elbows, the scent of cheap liquor and sweat thick in the air.

His bandmates thought he was visiting childhood friends in Seongnae-dong. They had no idea he was here, yet again, letting the bass rattle his ribs while he scowled into his drink.

Hwang Hyunjin was a failure. A shell of a man cosplaying as a bright star. An imposter, to be precise. Imposter among all those fools who didn't know any better.

"Hey, man." The bartender's voice cut through his thoughts.

Hyunjin lifted his head just enough to peer through his fingers. The kid, because he was a kid, barely into his twenties, smiled at him, dimples pressing into his cheeks. His buzz cut and eyebrow slit gave him a sharp, edgy look, but his expression was open, almost naive. The kind of look you'd see on every underdog lead in a K-drama.

Charming.

"I was wondering if you could tell me your name?" the bartender continued. "You come here a lot, but you never really talk to anyone. No pressure, though."

The idol never really bothered to study his companions while being here, but maybe he should have. He didn't know he was being analyzed before. Heck, he didn't even think anyone cared. The bar was far from the center from the heart of Seoul, situated in an area that was largely populated by the struggling and forgotten people of South Korea. Even being an idol known by millions, Hyunjin had low to almost no chances of being recognized here.

"Jiwon," Hyunjin lied smoothly, flashing a practiced smile.

The boy, Joon, his nametag said, lit up, smiling in return, his perfect teeth on display. Then he carried out a conversation consisting of small talk, telling Hyunjin about the work, about his university and the major, about the people that visited and his least and most favorite types of clients. Hyunjin half-listened, sipping his drink while observing the kid like he was a lab project.

The boy couldn't even look him in the eyes. His easy confidence almost disappeared when he had to hold eye contact, which wasn't unheard of, but it was amusing. The boy was taller than Hyunjin, broader than him, and yet it was like nothing was enough. Hyunjin could tell how he shrank in his gaze.

"Um… Are you by any chance someone… someone famous? You look like someone famous. It would be a pity if you weren't," the boy asked suddenly, cheeks pink, smile sheepish.

Hyunjin shrugged and drained his glass. No point in weaving a story now.

"I work in the idol industry."

"Oh, really? That's cool. As an idol?"

"Yeah. Can you give me water?"

"Sure," Joon nodded, pouring water from the dispenser. He slid the glass over. "Do you want ice?"

Hyunjin shook his head, grabbing the cup.

"Are you popular?" The boy asked, smiling brightly when Hyunjin raised a brow before giving a slow nod. "Popular with girls?"

"What's with the questions?" Hyunjin chuckled, looking at the boy amusedly. "Are girls neglecting you?"

Joon rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding his eyes.

"I mean, kind of? It's my fault, really. I'm not a man enough to approach any of them."

"How old are you again?"

"I'm twenty," the boy mumbled out, ashamed.

"Then what do you have to lose? Go have fun. It's all in your head," Hyunjin advised, resting his head on his palm, watching Joon work.

Joon chuckled, shaking his head.

"It's easy for you to say. If I had your… If I looked like you… Now that I think about it, I don't even know what I would do," the boy muttered out, observing the idol with intrigue, his gaze filled with childlike wonder. "You're kind of one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen, to be honest."

Hyunjin smiled faintly.

"Being beautiful is my job, kid."

"You're not that much older, are you?" Hyunjin shrugged, not disclosing his age. "I know you're not. And I don't think being idol is just that. You have to have some musical talents."

Hyunjin's eyes narrowed, looking at the bartender as if he had said something offensive.

"You just have to be at the right place at the right time," he explained, "The industry values visuals above everything else. Someone who isn't visually appealing can't go very far."

"But music is what K-pop sells. It's not modelling."

Hyunjin scoffed. "K-pop sells fantasy. Idols are distractions. It's just marketing." He tapped his glass. "Not that hard to figure out."

Joon nodded. "Yeah, I guess. I'm not that into K-pop, to be honest. But it's interesting, though. You don't look very happy."

Hyunjin stilled.

"I mean it," Joon didn't back up, cleaning the counter. "You are alone. You're always alone here. You never talk or look at anyone. You look anything but happy, Jiwon-ssi."

Leave it for a twenty-year-old kid to call Hyunjin out before any of his bandmates did. How funny.

"You're very straightforward."

Joon chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Silence settled between them, filled by the thrum of bass from the speakers. Then Joon spoke again, softer this time.

"Can I ask you something?"

Hyunjin shrugged, setting a cup on the counter.

"Go ahead."

"How is it like to be you, Jiwon-ssi? You look like a model, and I bet you're well-off and have all the attention on you whenever you want. I never had any. I just want your perspective."

Hyunjin wasn't surprised by the question. If he were a struggling student living in the junk of Seoul, working at the bar that desperately needed renovation, and suddenly an idol showed up out of nowhere, looking all miserable, he would ask the same thing.

He might even resent them.

He stared at his glass, thinking.

After a minute, he spoke, voice quiet but steady.

"I lost everything, Joon," Hyunjin said. "It's not even my job. I'm grateful for it, but at the same time, it forced me to confront who I am. You get into this world thinking it's about the stage, the music, the screaming fans…" He chuckled bitterly, pausing.

"But it's a mirror, kid. The industry shows you what you don't want to see. But not everything at once. You just have realizations on realizations until all you have is data. And it's nothing you expected. Hell, now that I think of it, I shouldn't have expected anything else. It was right there all along, but I was distracted. I was living in the fantasy, like all of us do."

The idol took a breath in, pausing. The bartender was looking at him with concern, which he ignored. This boy probably didn't understand what he was saying anyway.

"I was a child when I debuted, and I didn't know myself back then, although I had a rough idea of who I was. But this job… I'm afraid there's nothing remaining of me anymore. Nothing that is just me."

Joon looked at him, visibly thrown off.

"Oh… Nothing remaining of you? What do you mean? Are you depressed?"

Hyunjin smiled, overlooking the question.

"Being an idol showed me who I truly was. And it's terrifying, you know. One day you think you have yourself figured out, that your thinking patterns are regular, that everyone is the same, but the next day, you escape the vacuum and see that you're not. You're not who you thought you were. You're nothing at all. Because you were nothing to begin with."

"Jiwon-ssi, I-"

"I'm sick here, Joon," Hyunjin said, smiling as he tapped his temple lightly. Joon's eyes widened, finally getting what Hyunjin meant. "I'm a sick motherfucker, isn't it obvious?"

Joon flinched, caught off guard.

"As in..." He said, not daring to state the obvious.

"Look. These stools, yeah? Look at them, don't they all look the same?" Hyunjin said, pointing toward the ones by the window. Joon nodded, leaning in. "The one on the right is in perfect condition, the middle one too, and the far left is too, but look closely. It's cracked underneath, but no one notices. It looks all pretty and perfect, and you don't notice that it's damaged until it drops you on your ass."

He rested his head in his palms again, gaze unwavering.

"Guess which one I am."

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Hyunjin didn't mind the strain of tours. If asked, he'd choose packed schedules and exhaustion over free time any day. When alone, he had an itch he couldn't scratch, like there was something wrong with his body, his mind, and no amount of distractions could save him from completely losing that little thread of control he had over his own sanity.

Tours were the opposite. No room for himself meant no room for thoughts overall. He enjoyed the blood, sweat, and tears that went into each comeback, having his bandmates near, being under constant surveillance. He especially enjoyed Chan's company. The leader's gaze was sharp and intelligent, and despite having the public image of a forgiving and loving leader, nothing happened in the band or its management without his approval and knowledge.

Hyunjin had no chance of hiding with Chan, which he appreciated. Given the circumstances and his uncontrollable and sometimes vile thoughts, Chan's presence was always an anchor to reality.

But the tours had ended, which meant some free time to recharge. His bandmates all chose their own occupations, the majority of them deciding to sleep or play games. It was like an unspoken rule not to bother anyone unless the situation was severe and needed immediate intervention. Hyunjin respected it, so he bothered no one, choosing instead to sit on the couch and read a poem he wasn't invested in.

Love poems. Always love.

Hyunjin wasn't overly interested in the topic, but the poem was still beautiful, the flow still steady and pleasant. The author was describing love as something sacred, something larger than life, but also delicate. He was portraying love as God itself.

"Each time your pain touches me,

Love deepens like a dark sea,

Becoming a bond from which one can never escape."

Hyunjin tilted his head, looking at the words like they were something foreign.

He'd never been in love. Likely never would be. Whatever was wrong with his brain, it reduced human connection to transactions, like value, benefit, and survival. Love was suffocating.

But people were describing love as the greatest thing to happen to them, but at the same time, the most painful journey one can undergo. Which Hyunjin found pathetic, as much as he tried to understand their worldview.

How boring can one's life be that the most exciting thing that can happen to them is someone else?

Hyunjin closed the book and tossed it onto the nearest chair. This was just wasting his time.

He was about to take his phone when he was interrupted. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him from behind.

"Hey, man!" Jisung exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. Hyunjin scrunched his nose in disdain, looking at his bandmate with annoyance. "Whatcha up to?"

Hyunjin stood and headed towards the kitchen, deciding to make some iced coffee.

"Nothing. Do you want iced coffee?" He asked, grabbing a milk frother from the top shelf.

"I'm good. Why don't you have a shirt on, huh? Are you turning into Channie-hyung?"

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, opening the fridge to grab the milk. The weather in South Korea was awful, bordering on unbearable. Even with the air conditioner on, it was not enough to escape the heat.

Jisung didn't get an answer, which he wasn't surprised by. He let Hyunjin make his iced coffee while he leaned back against the counter, looking at the ceiling in thought.

"Hey, Hyunjin," he said, grabbing his bandmate's attention.

"What?"

"I was wondering… You seem pretty distant lately. You good?"

Hyunjin wasn't taken back by the question. Jisung had a tendency to check in with his bandmates often, mainly because of his anxiety and irrational fears.

"There's nothing to worry about, Sung. You're overthinking."

Jisung pursed his lips, not looking convinced.

"I think there is something. Inah noticed it too. Said that you aren't as close to him now that you once were. I was about to ask Channie-hyung as well, but he would get worried, so I didn't. But I can see that you just seem… not overly interested in us I guess? I don't really know. You're not that excited anymore."

Hyunjin glanced at the rapper, shrugging. "I'm probably tired."

Jisung looked at him skeptically before a grin broke out on his lips. "Do you have someone, huh, Hyunjinah? Are you replacing us now?"

Hyunjin scoffed. "It's about time, don't you think?"

"Oh! Are you insulting us now? We aren't good enough for you anymore?" Jisung exclaimed indignantly, shaking his head. "But seriously, though, if you need anything, I'm here to talk. I know you go for all the mysterious vibes and don't really talk your problems out, but promise me that you'll talk to me, yeah? Or anyone, really."

"Yeah, sure," Hyunjin responded, sipping on his bitter coffee. Both of them were aware that it was just an empty promise.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Hyunjin sat on a stool, drinking his coffee, while Jisung remained, leaning on the counter with a pensive expression.

"I was thinking…" Jisung began, rubbing his chin with his index finger. Hyunjin glanced at him, smiling at how introspective his bandmate looked, almost like a philosopher. "Actually, before I say anything, can I ask you a question?"

Hyunjin nodded, his gaze curious.

"Who's your actual favorite in the group? And least favorite? I want the truth."

"Why? You want to stroke your ego?"

Jisung shook his head. "No, it's just… there's something on my mind lately, and it involves you so… just answer the question."

Hyunjin turned back to his coffee, gulping down the rest of the drink. "You want me to rank all of you?"

The rapper shrugged. "That's not what I asked, but if you do that, I'm not stopping you."

Hyunjin took a minute to think, analyzing all of his bandmates' strengths and weaknesses. He had never seriously thought about his favorites in the group. As long as he didn't have any problem with them and they didn't make his job harder, he liked them just fine.

"I like the hyung line the best," he said. Jisung nodded, showing he was listening. "My favorite among us is Changbin or Chan-hyung. I like Minho-hyung's professionalism as well, but I admire how Bin and hyung are so socially capable."

Jisung shook his head. "You're just analyzing their strengths. I'm asking you to tell me, personally, who your favorite is. Like, who you feel the most connected with, who is… your person, I guess. Yeah, your person."

Hyunjin looked at Jisung with a raised brow, his lips forming a line. "Why?"

Jisung rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking much of you, man. Just tell me and move on. It's not top-secret information. I'll tell no one."

Hyunjin sighed, leaning back on his seat. "Isn't it obvious I like Jeongin more than any of you?"

"Yeah, kind of." Jisung grinned. "So, okay, Jeongin is your number one. Who is your least favorite then?"

Hyunjin noticed how Jisung started fiddling with the hem of his shirt, appearing nervous. Was Jisung worried he was Hyunjin's least favorite out of all of them? Hyunjin almost laughed. As much as Jisung annoyed him, he was far from the person he felt the least connected to.

"Felix."

Jisung let out a breath, as if stabbed. He looked at Hyunjin with a pained expression. He expected the answer, it seemed, but it hurt no less to hear it.

"But why, Hyunjin? Why Yongbokkie?"

Hyunjin shrugged, standing to put the cup in the sink. Jisung followed him like a lost puppy, his tail tucked between his legs.

He didn't understand why this was such a raw revelation for Jisung when it was more than obvious that he and Felix were never really that close, not like others were. Hyunjin just never felt comfortable in Felix's presence, not to mention how different they were personality-wise. The sweet smiles, the angelic persona, the loving voice...  It felt like Hyunjin's whole body was against Felix being near him, so he kept distance, and Felix never minded it as well. 

It was odd, to some extent, because it was unusual for Hyunjin to experience such an intolerance toward a person, but it was probably due to their incompability. 

"We're not that close, that's all. But I don't dislike him," Hyunjin replied, washing his cup. I just don't really care.

"Come on, man. Felix is an angel! Give him a chance!" Jisung exclaimed, looking overly worried about something that wasn't his business. "Can't you notice the way he looks at you? He wants to be friends! But you keep your guard up. He's scared of you, you know. I was thinking of this for a while, and… You're one cruel motherfucker, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin scoffed. "Why are you telling me this? What do you want me to do, exactly? Be his best friend?" The dancer scorned, looking down at Jisung, his patience running thin.

Jisung didn't give in, looking at him with fierce determination. "That's exactly what I want you to do. You're treating him so unfairly. You made him scared of you, you fucker!" Jisung jabbed his finger at Hyunjin's bare chest, curling his lip disapprovingly when the dancer shook his hand away. "I don't understand. You'll talk to anyone but him. Or, sorry, you'll talk to him only when necessary and then leave as fast as you can. What, are you scared? Is our Dracula Hyunjin scared of itty-bitty Felix now?"

"Don't touch me," Hyunjin warned, his lips in a sneer.

"Just tell me why! Just fucking tell me, man! Felix doesn't deserve this. He just wants to be close, but you keep him at arm's length. He is too scared of you to even confront you about it! He thinks you hate him!"

"Calm down, Jisung," Hyunjin breathed out, his voice low and full of a quiet threat.

Jisung ignored him. "No! Yongbokkie is an angel! You're the hateful one here! And to imagine that you're almost his hyung. Damn right, look at you. You're anything but mature!" The rapper screamed in his face, and Hyunjin's gaze turned dark, all of his patience running out.

Then, all at once, he moved.

His hand shot out, grabbing Jisung by the collar and yanking him forward, their faces suddenly inches apart. Jisung froze, his breath caught.

"You talk too much," Hyunjin murmured, his voice cold and even. "Always talking like you know what's going on."

There was no anger in his tone, just something colder. Detached. Almost empty and condescending.

Jisung's hands hovered at Hyunjin's wrist, unsure whether to push him away or stay perfectly still.

"I'm warning you once. Don't put your hands on me again. And don't talk about things you clearly don't understand."

He let go of Jisung's shirt, turning his back and walking out of the room.

Jisung stood there, his eyes wide with shock, frozen like a statue. Despite the hot weather and the sweat running down the back of his neck, Jisung suddenly felt a cold air wash over him.

═══════

Jisung had avoided him since then, predictably.

It wasn't unusual for members to have a disagreement, but there were limits, and a threat was one of them.

It wasn't like Hyunjin cared about the distance, though. He wasn't concerned by the scornful gazes he received from the rapper, or how he visibly tensed up every time Hyunjin was near. As if he were ready to strike if provoked. Hyunjin didn't mind. Jisung's anxiety would win eventually. His people-pleasing nature would force him to apologize first. That's how it always went.

Maybe Chan and Minho looked at them with concern lately, but Hyunjin knew they were aware it wasn't that serious. If they thought otherwise, they would have already intervened.

It was a practice day after a full week of rest. He was rehearsing all their recent songs in preparation for another concert happening in three days. The day was normal, but the air was charged with tension, which Hyunjin tried to ignore. But whenever he glanced at the mirror, he couldn't help but meet Chan's gaze. The leader was watching him like a hawk, analyzing his every movement as if Hyunjin were a ticking time bomb.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

So he wasn't surprised when Chan cornered him alone after the practice and told him to meet him at his studio.

"We have something to discuss, Jinnie. It's not necessarily anything serious, but please, be on time, yeah? It's important regardless," the leader said with a smile, patting him on the shoulder before grabbing his bag and leaving the room.

Hyunjin couldn't help but wonder what the leader was up to. Chan only called them to his studio if he had private matters to discuss, things he didn't want to share with the rest of the band.

The dancer sighed, his eyebrows pinching together.

His assumptions were unpleasant, but he chose not to dwell on them. It was a waste of time to play a guessing game now.

He was stuffing his bag when a soft voice cut through the silence.

"Um-"

His small bandmate stood frozen in the doorway, fingers twisting behind his back. His eyes darted everywhere, the floor, the ceiling, the exit, anywhere but Hyunjin.

Felix.

"Yes?"

"Can you—can you…" Felix stuttered, appearing scared out of his wits. Hyunjin raised a brow. Was the guy actually scared of him? Jisung wasn't exaggerating?

"I'm listening," Hyunjin said, trying to sound encouraging. Spit it out already.

"Um… Do you have a spare t-towel? I forgot to bring mine. You're the only one here, everyone else l-left."

Hyunjin almost laughed.

The guy was just asking for a towel, and here he was shaking like a leaf as if Hyunjin would refuse and end his life right there.

Hyunjin didn't have a spare towel, but he grabbed the one he had used for practice and handed it out anyway. He would find something else; it didn't matter. The boy looked pitiful.

He was expecting Felix to walk toward him and grab the towel, but Felix was not moving an inch.

Hyunjin looked at him with narrowed eyes, his patience wearing thin. "Do you want me to bring it to you too?" he asked, his voice low.

Felix shook his head vigorously. "No! Sorry!" he exclaimed, taking the biggest steps possible and snatching the towel from his hand. He took a step back, bowing. "I'm sorry, hy-hyung. I—"

"I'm not your hyung."

Felix scrambled back, bowing once again. "Of course. I'm sorry! T-thank you. I'll return it soon," Felix mumbled before dashing out of the room.

Hyunjin scoffed, irritated at being treated as if he were a loose cannon waiting to unleash his wrath at any second. He shook it off, deeming the situation not important enough to get annoyed by.

Felix didn't annoy him often, because Hyunjin didn't give him a chance to, but if he did, it was all because of how childlike and sensitive the guy was. Hyunjin had to walk on eggshells around him at all times, if he had to walk at all. He would rather suffer alone time and scolding from Chan than ever be in Felix's proximity.

When the time came to go to Chan's room, Hyunjin was practically dragging his feet. It was late, and all he wanted was to sleep. He almost texted Chan to delay the meeting, but he knew Chan would refuse.

Chan hated going against his schedule.

"Hyunjin! Thank you for coming on time," Chan greeted him at the door, ushering him in. He pointed at his bed. "Take a seat, please."

Hyunjin took a seat, looking around the room. It was almost pitch black once Chan closed the door, save for the light from his computer and a lamp on his desk. Chan sat down at his desk, looking at Hyunjin with a smile.

"How have you been?"

"I'm good, hyung."

"No, no, really. Is there anything wrong? I heard Jisung is upset with you," the leader delved deeper, adding, "But nothing serious, I hope."

"I'm okay. Me and Sung will reconcile, don't worry," Hyunjin replied with a smile, hopefully concealing how tired he was.

Chan wasn't buying it, but he let it go anyway.

"I won't waste your time today. You look tired," he said with a sigh. "Like I said, there's nothing really urgent I want to talk to you about, and it's not a demand either. It's a request."

Hyunjin nodded. So he was needed for a service. That was good. Easy. "Yeah, of course."

"Hyunjin… You're one of the most talented dancers I've ever seen, you know that? You have a fire in you that's not really something anyone can learn. You're just born with it, I guess. But… I think it would benefit you more if you tried to share this, you know? You'll learn a lot from teaching, I'm sure," Chan said, sounding vague.

And he had said he wouldn't waste Hyunjin's time. Why couldn't he just say it outright?

"Hyung, what do you want from me?" he asked, sounding impatient.

Chan chuckled, rubbing the nape of his neck. "Um… I talked to our dance instructor and the choreographer, and we all decided that the best way you can improve is by teaching. And I want the best for you, you know that. I wouldn't offer something I knew you weren't capable of, or something you would be against."

Teaching… as in teaching trainees? Who in their right mind would assign Hyunjin to trainees?

"If you want me to teach trainees, I'm sorry, but you'll be disappointed. You largely overestimate my patience."

"Not trainees, no. Our bandmate."

Who the fuck could he teach in his own group? Everyone was a well-rounded, adequate dancer.

"Who?" he asked irritably.

Chan breathed out. "Felix."

"Who?"

"Yongbok. I want you to teach Yongbok."

Hyunjin looked at him incredulously before his lips formed a thin line, his gaze sharpening. "And what on earth would I teach him?"

Chan rubbed his temple, looking worn out. "I know he's one of the best here, alright? Leagues better than me. He's great, fantastic, even. But… Unlike others, his position here is to dance, and his efforts are largely dedicated to that craft. I've been hearing constantly from him how he wants to improve, be more elegant, look sharper and so on. And I don't know how to help him, Hyunjin. And Felix admires you; he admires your skill. I can't think of a better teacher than you, Jin."

Was Chan really that blind and desperate that he couldn't think of a better teacher than Hyunjin? Especially if the "student" was Felix? Hyunjin would probably make Felix cry a hundred times over before finishing one session.

"You can't be serious, hyung," Hyunjin said. "Find a professional for him. I'm not fit to be his teacher."

"But you are! You would be an excellent mentor!" Chan exclaimed, startling him. "And Felix would benefit from the guidance of specifically you, Jin, not some stranger. He knows your craft and trusts your skill. He would learn more from you than any other person, even Minho."

"And why's that?"

The leader sighed. "Look, I didn't want to say this, because Felix made me swear I wouldn't tell you, but he kind of looks up to you a lot. You're his favorite dancer right now."

Hyunjin raised a brow. "I find that hard to believe. We are nearly the same level."

"Yeah, I get that, but your style is what he's captivated by. Please, just consider this? It would benefit you, too, undoubtedly. Teaching is the greatest form of learning," Chan pleaded, looking desperate.

Hyunjin sighed, giving the leader a nod before standing and heading out of the room. Chan stood as well, stopping him at the door by gripping his shoulder.

"Please, Jin, I want the best for both of you, you know that. Felix would be so happy if he found out you're down for mentorship."

"I know, hyung," the dancer said, looking back and nodding at the leader. "I will see what I can do. Good night."

"Night, Jin."

Hyunjin left the room, feeling incredibly perplexed by the situation. He lay on his bed, looking up at the ceiling with his hands on his bare stomach, pondering the future if he were to actually mentor Felix.

"Why am I thinking about this anyway…" he said aloud, chuckling. "It's not like he will last a day with me."

He sighed, looking resigned.

"Poor guy, honestly."

═══════

The thought of mentorship wasn't something he had seriously considered since then.

It had been two weeks since Chan offered him the chance to teach Felix, and Hyunjin was still unsure how Chan ever thought that would be a good idea. The leader must not have been in his right mind, because there was no way he was willing to sacrifice Felix's emotional well-being for something as trivial as minor improvements in his dance.

And one would think Chan would try to protect Felix more, considering how much he babied him daily, coddling him like he was a toddler incapable of handling himself. This was something that irritated Hyunjin terribly, as much as he tried to hide it under a mask of indifference.

Felix was twenty-four. Why were people acting like he had just come out of his mother's womb? The constant check-ins, the back hugs, the ruffles of Felix's hair, the adoring gazes, and praises for the bare minimum: "You did such a good job on stage today! Rest a lot, yeah, Bokkie? Don't overexert yourself." ,"You brought me soda? Oh, Bokkie, you're so sweet! Come here!", "How's life been recently, baby? Fighting, yeah? You're so cute!"…

It was infuriating. Not one other member received the same treatment, not even Jeongin, who was the youngest of them all.

Did Chan expect him to start treating Felix the same way? Did Hyunjin look like a nanny, or was Chan really that slow?

Hyunjin was aware that the proposal wasn't entirely about dance. Chan took his role as a leader seriously, and he was trying to hit two birds with one stone: helping Felix improve while building a bond between him and Hyunjin, further strengthening the relationships inside the band. But Hyunjin, for the life of him, couldn't see how he and Felix could ever become friends. He couldn't even tolerate the guy when they weren't speaking directly, so how was he expected to get in touch? One session with Felix and the boy would come out running for help, blaming Hyunjin for being callous, while all the dancer did was treat him like a normal human being, not an overgrown infant.

So Hyunjin forgot about the offer soon after.

Rehearsals and tours were still ongoing, with their comeback coming soon after. His schedule was full, something he appreciated and cherished while he still could. He was enjoying his time, not minding the minor inconveniences and technical difficulties all of the concerts inevitably brought. He had reconciled with Jisung, like he said he would, with the rapper apologizing to him a week after the incident, saying he was sorry for his emotional outburst. Hyunjin apologized in return, and now they were all good.

But, like always, it was time to rest and take time off, and now Hyunjin was bored out of his mind, watching the TV in their living room with a blank stare, not fully registering what was happening on screen.

Maybe he should go to the bar, but it was too early and hot. He always went at night, anyway.

"…So, Bok, you want some ice cream? Changbinnie has it, I'm sure," he heard Jisung say. Hyunjin turned his head, watching the rapper walk into the living room with Felix under his arm. Felix was smiling, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

Hyunjin cocked his brow, not realizing he had guests. Jisung noticed him right away.

"Oh, Hyunjin! What a surprise! You want ice cream?"

"No."

Jisung shook his head disapprovingly. "Ah, ah. No joy in this guy. See, baby, that's who you turn into if you take hate comments too literally," he said to Felix while walking to the kitchen. "You don't read them, do you? Promise me that you don't!"

It took Felix longer than usual to answer. When Hyunjin looked at him, the dancer was watching him with wide eyes, as if he didn't expect Hyunjin to be around in his own house.

Hyunjin's eyes hardened with annoyance. Felix blushed, looking away.

"I try my best n-not to read them," he finally answered, stammering over his words. "What about you, Sung?"

Hyunjin turned back to the TV, his mood souring. He stood up, heading towards his bedroom. He didn't want to spend any more time there than necessary.

"Why are you naked all the time, man? What the fuck? Put a shirt on!" Jisung yelled at him from the kitchen, his voice teasing.

Hyunjin ignored him, continuing on his route.

The heat in his bedroom was almost unbearable, but he didn't want to go back in the living room. Even after nearly an hour of mindlessly reading poems, his bandmates might still be there, doing God knows what. Hyunjin wasn't about to risk going there and having to communicate with them.

═══════

The atmosphere in the band changed.

Hyunjin couldn't remember a time his bandmates were so tense around him, not even when he and Jisung had a rivalry that went far beyond the incident that happened a week before. Actually, in comparison, what he said to Felix couldn't be compared to the insults he traded with Jisung, but his bandmates were acting like he had committed a crime just by telling Felix that he wasn't a child.

Minho and Chan were the worst, undoubtedly. It was no secret that Minho favored Felix, seeing him as someone in his direct care. So when word spread that Hyunjin had dared not to treat Felix like he was made of glass (probably from Jisung, who had to comfort Felix after and ask what was going on), Minho made it his personal mission to make Hyunjin's life as difficult as possible. He was different from Chan, who was passive-aggressive when he was mad. No, Minho spoke through actions.

And it truly got under Hyunjin's skin.

During dance practices, Minho was unrelenting. He demanded Hyunjin to dance his ass off, reasoning that, "All eyes will be on you, yeah? So you better not embarrass us." Normally, Hyunjin wouldn't be against rigorous routines, which he actually preferred, but that man drove him up a wall, making him repeat dances nonstop until he was drenched in sweat from head to toe. And it wasn't like he could refuse Minho, either. Minho's responsibility was to help his bandmates with dance, and if that help wasn't enough, he would take it up to the dance instructor, who usually demanded to have one-on-one sessions with the members several times a week until they improved.

So all Hyunjin could do was bite his tongue and bear it, even though all he wanted was to wring Minho's neck.

Chan was passive-aggressive in his anger, but no less frustrating. Chan remained his usual friendly, warm self with everyone else, but when he addressed Hyunjin, he became noticeably more formal, using terms like "Hyunjin-ssi" instead of "Jin" or "Jinnie," his tone brief and professional. During a dance rehearsal, his bandmates got an enthusiastic "Great job, guys!" from the leader, but all Hyunjin got was, "That was good, Hyunjin. You know, you're so good at focusing on your own craft… maybe try to apply that same focus to how you connect with the people around you? It would really help with the group's overall energy." Chan was petty even in the chat, sending a detailed schedule to everyone else but leaving Hyunjin off the tag. When Hyunjin asked in the chat, "Is that for everyone but me?" Chan responded with a seemingly innocent and apologetic, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I guess I was so focused on the others, I just totally forgot you were there. My bad!"

His other bandmates were silent mostly, but they looked at him like he had committed an unspeakable crime, as if refusing Felix was an atrocity worse than abuse.

So all he could do was take it on the chin and stay silent, hoping that this would pass and everyone would go back to normal. But as days passed, no one seemed to forget the incident, especially when Felix acted like he saw a boogie man whenever Hyunjin was near. He flinched, almost as if frightened, and then his jaw would tighten imperceptibly, his shoulders squaring for just a moment before he stepped aside. 

Felix was growing to resent him.

And it was tiring. It was not like Hyunjin felt any guilt or remorse, either. If he had to go back, he would still do the same thing, so he saw his bandmates' treatment as unnecessary and childish.

A week had passed since he hurt Felix's feelings, and Hyunjin was dragging his feet to the vocal recordings. It was night, like it usually was when Chan called them to the studio. The week was tiring, and for the first time, Hyunjin genuinely felt exhausted. His bandmates wore him out, undeniably.

The air in the recording booth was thick with unspoken tension, far heavier than the humid night outside. Inside, the only light came from the monitor, illuminating Chan's face as he sat hunched over the soundboard, his expression unreadable. Beside him, Changbin and Han were also at the mixing console, their focus seemingly on the track, but their silence was a loud indictment.

Hyunjin stood on the other side of the glass, feeling like he was in a cage.

They were working on his lines, and Chan was relentless. He wasn't yelling or criticizing outright, but he was nitpicking every single take.

"Okay, Hyunjin-ssi, can we get that one more time?" Chan's voice came through the headphones, flat and professional. "The last word was a little… breathy. Let's try to get more power behind it."

Hyunjin, who was holding on to his last thread of patience, took a deep breath and repeated the line. He knew it was fine, but he also knew better than to argue.

"Hmm. Better," Chan said after a moment, and Hyunjin could hear the rustle of papers in the booth. "But the intonation on the third word… It's not really… connecting with the rest of the melody. Try to lift it a little, but don't make it sound forced. Got it?"

A sigh escaped Han's lips that was just loud enough to be heard over the comms. Changbin shifted in his seat, tapping his foot on the floor. Neither of them looked at him. Hyunjin bit his tongue so hard he could taste blood. He did as he was told, recording the line again, and again, and again, until his throat was raw and his exhaustion was a physical ache.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Chan's voice broke the silence.

"Okay. That's enough for today, I think. We'll save the rest for tomorrow."

Hyunjin let out a quiet breath of relief, the tension in his shoulders easing. He started to unclip his headphones, but Chan's voice stopped him.

"Changbin, Han, you guys are free to go," Chan said. "We'll catch up in the dorm."

Changbin and Han didn't hesitate. They stood, grabbed their bags, and without a single word or a glance in Hyunjin's direction, they were gone. The door clicked shut, leaving a sudden, deafening silence.

Hyunjin took a breath, preparing himself for the inevitable.

After a moment, Chan stood and walked out of the booth, opening the studio door to stand in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze sharp and unwavering.

"Hyunjin-ssi," Chan said again, the formality a deliberate sting. "We need to talk."

Hyunjin nodded, resigned. He wanted to go back home. "Okay."

Chan's jaw clenched, and the room went quiet once again. Chan looked at the floor for a moment, as if weighing the consequences of what he was about to say.

Then he looked up.

"Next Sunday, you'll have an extra two hours in your schedule, which will repeat every week."

Hyunjin furrowed his brows. "Extra two hours doing what?"

Chan smiled, but it was condescending. It lacked the warmth he directed at everyone else. "You'll mentor Felix."

Hyunjin's jaw tightened. He felt the urge to lash out, but his exhaustion held him in check.

Not this shit again.

"Mentor Felix?" Hyunjin repeated, his voice dangerously low. "Hyung, you can't be serious. Find a professional for him."

Chan's smile disappeared, replaced by a steely, hard look. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a serious, uncompromising tone. "This is not a request, Hyunjin-ssi. It's a demand. You'll do it, whether you like it or not."

There was no room for negotiation. Hyunjin's protest died in his throat.

Chan watched him for a moment, his gaze unwavering. "Look, I know he's not your favorite person. But this is bigger than that. He needs a mentor, and you are his favorite dancer in the group. You're also the one who made him so scared that he flinches when you walk by. So you're the one who's going to fix it."

Hyunjin scoffed. "All I did was tell him to stop acting like a child. You think this is my fault?"

Chan's jaw clenched again. He was losing his cool. The calm, warm leader was gone, replaced by a cold, angry one.

"It is your fault," Chan said, his voice hard. "I'm not talking about some stupid rivalry, Jinnie. I'm talking about basic decency. I'm talking about you being a decent human being." The shift from "Hyunjin-ssi" to "Jinnie" stung. "I'm disappointed. I thought you were better than this. You can't just treat people like they don't matter, like they're just… background noise. Especially not Felix. Not when he looks up to you so much."

Hyunjin flinched. Not because of guilt, but because, for a moment, he was convinced Chan knew exactly what an imposter he was. He felt a moment of pure, unadulterated panic before the anger took over.

"What do you want me to do, hyung? Do you actually expect me to treat him like all of you do? Like he's a fucking child?" Hyunjin spat back, his voice rising.

Chan didn't recoil. He just stared, his gaze firm. "You're going to be his mentor. You're going to spend two hours with him every week. You're going to talk to him. You're going to teach him. And you're going to fix this. Not for me, not for the group. For yourself."

Chan took a step back and let go of the doorframe. The conversation was over.

"You have no choice."

Hyunjin walked out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Chapter Text

"Chan-hyung finally put you in your place, huh? I never thought I'd be lucky enough to witness this day. Thank God." Jisung grinned, watching Hyunjin pack his bag for the upcoming mentorship session.

Hyunjin scowled, refusing to dignify the rapper with a response.

Changbin glanced up from his protein-heavy meal, confusion knitting his brows. "What's happening? Hyunjin, where are you going?"

Hyunjin didn't answer, his scowl deepening even more.

"Jisung?"

Jisung grinned like a Cheshire cat, pointing at the dancer mockingly. "Our Hyunjinnie here is paying for his sins," Han said proudly. He turned to Changbin, grinning. "He's about to mentor Felix on dance, can you imagine?"

Changbin froze. "What?"

"Yes, yes. Mentor. He's about to become a mentor to Felix-ah," Jisung continued, snickering. "Channie-hyung is punishing him, so now he's expected to be with Yongbokkie every week on Sundays, for two hours straight."

"Oh." Changbin blinked. "Why do you know about this and I don't?"

Jisung shrugged. "You're just distracted, hyung."

Hyunjin continued packing his bag, his movements harsh, almost angry. He wanted to leave the house as soon as possible.

Silence fell, his bandmates continuing what they were doing before. Jisung turned back to the TV, grabbing the console and resuming a game while Changbin returned to his meal. Hyunjin was right at the door when Changbin asked him, his voice soft, a stark contrast to the coldness it had become ever since Hyunjin had dared to take issue with the sunshine of the band.

"Take care, okay, Jin? You look exhausted. You know we forgive you, yeah?"

Hyunjin looked at him, smiling. "Of course. Thank you, hyung."

But as he was about to shut the door behind him, he heard Jisung indignantly exclaim, "Who's we, hyung? Who's we, huh?"

The ride to the company building was anything but pleasant. Hyunjin found himself wishing the car would slow down, just to stretch the moments before the inevitable. He leaned his head against the window, eyes closed, savoring what little peace remained while the looming thought of the upcoming session hovered over him like a sharp sword.

This was a test of his patience.

Hyunjin let out a dry, humorless laugh. A test of his patience that he would fail, just like all the others he had before.

"We're here," the driver said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Hyunjin nodded and stretched, limbs stiff from tension. He glanced out the window, observing the JYP building as if he would find something new to discover. But the building was the same as it always was. Massive, looming over the city like a tombstone, its blue modern facade casting a permanent shadow on the street below. Like the bane of his existence, it was.

Inside, the building was quieter than usual. Which was to be expected, given that it was a Sunday afternoon. The soft music in the elevator grated on his nerves, and when he got to his destination, he paused, almost as if unsure, his hand hovering over the cold metal handle. But after a moment, he pushed it open, the door moving inward with a soft creak.

But, to his surprise, Felix wasn't alone in the room when he stepped in.

Chan stood beside him, arms crossed, speaking in a low, serious tone, almost like a parent giving their child a pep talk before a serious event.

Hyunjin's jaw tightened. He should have known.

The leader turned as he entered, giving him a nod and cutting the conversation short. Beside him, Felix didn't even move, acting as if Hyunjin wasn't there, although the slight tension in his shoulders and tightness in his expression gave him away.

"Glad you're both on time," Chan said with a smile. "I'm not here to watch you practice, if that's what you're thinking," he said, chuckling. "I just wanted to make some things clear before I go, yeah? I'll not take long."

None of them said a word.

The leader paused, looking at both of them pointedly as he spoke. "Starting from today, both of you will be obligated to have a mentorship session every Sunday. The hours might change some weeks, depending on how busy both of you are, but rest assured, every Sunday you'll be working on your dance."

Hyunjin felt a retort forming on his tongue, but Chan held up a hand, silencing him. "I know none of you want to be here. But that's not the point. I'm not here, demanding you to be friends. I'm just asking you to be professionals. Felix, Hyunjin is going to help you with your technique. Hyunjin, you're going to teach him."

Chan's eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a low, serious tone.

"I'll know if you're pretending. If one of you leaves early, I'll know about it. If you refuse to put in work, I'll know about it too. This is not something you can just get away from."

He looked between them then, gaze almost piercing. "I'm serious about this. Your broken relationship has already affected the band. And like I already said, I don't expect much from you, really. I just want both of you to learn how to be professionals. This is not up for debate."

He looked at them, expecting a response. Felix let out a reluctant "Yes", his jaw tight with tension, while Hyunjin nodded, placing his bag on the floor.

Chan smiled, appearing more at ease. "Okay, good. See you later, then. Have a nice training."

Felix returned his smile. "Thank you, hyung."

"See you later, Channie-hyung," Hyunjin added, bowing politely.

Chan gave Felix a pat on the shoulder, threw a final glance at Hyunjin, and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

And just like that, Hyunjin and Felix were alone.

Immediately, the room was filled with deafening silence.

Hyunjin didn't look at Felix. Felix didn't look at him. Somewhere, a clock ticked.

And the real test began.

Hyunjin sighed, finally breaking the tension by looking at his bandmate and acknowledging him with a nod. He needed to get this over with.

"Choose a song," his voice cut through the air, sharp and flat. He gestured vaguely at the speaker. "Warm up. We have two hours."

Felix's response was immediate. "No."

Hyunjin blinked. "What?"

"I said no." Felix's voice was quiet but firm, his gaze fixed stubbornly on the mirrored wall ahead. "I'm not dancing."

And just like that, Hyunjin's patience already ran out.

Hyunjin grabbed his bag from the floor. "Goodbye, then."

He turned and walked towards the door, his movements quick and decisive.

"What?" Felix's voice, a mix of shock and panic, followed him. "Hyung said we have to-"

Like the fuck I care, he thought, pushing the door open and stepping into the quiet hallway, leaving the ticking clock and the petulant child behind.

Who did Felix think Hyunjin was? A parent just like Chan? Did he expect Hyunjin to stay and force him out of his childish habits, give him a talk, maybe?

Hyunjin just wanted to go back at his dorm and forget this ever happened.

But he couldn't get far.

He was halfway down the hall when he saw Chan, who hadn't yet left the building, as it seemed. The leader was standing by a meeting room, talking to a staff member, his posture relaxed. But the moment his eyes landed on Hyunjin, his smile vanished, replaced by a look of confusion.

"Hyunjin? What are you doing here? The session just started?"

Hyunjin didn't falter. "Felix refused to dance. It's not my responsibility to discipline him, so I'm going home."

Chan's eyes narrowed. The staff member beside him bowed, excusing herself before things could escalate. "So you just left?"

"What else was I supposed to do?" Hyunjin shot back, jaw tight. "Beg?"

Chan exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Wait here."

Without another word, Chan walked past him and went back to the dance studio, pulling the door shut behind him. Hyunjin leaned against the wall, a twisted sense of victory in his stomach.

Let Chan handle his little princess, Hyunjin was done.

His bandmate returned a few minutes later. The anger on his face was still there, but now it was masked with false calm. "I took care of it," he said, his eyes drilling into Hyunjin's. "Felix will dance now."

"Thank you, hyung." Hyunjin turned to go back, but Chan stopped him with a firm grip on his shoulder.

Chan took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Listen to me, Hyunjin. I'm giving you this chance to fix things. But if I find out that you made him cry, or harmed him somehow, I swear…"

The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

It was funny. How quick was Chan to assume he wanted to harm Felix, like Felix was someone he genuinely hated. Like Hyunjin was capable of experiencing deep hatred.

They were so clueless, it was almost pitiful. After almost a decade of knowing him, they still had no idea how Hyunjin worked.

Hyunjin's smile was razor-thin. "Wouldn't dream of it, hyung."

Chan held his stare for a beat longer, then jerked his chin toward the studio. "Go."

The dancer took a breath in, willing himself not to lose his cool as he went back inside the studio and shut the door behind him. Felix didn't even acknowledge his presence, sitting on a sofa, his posture so stiff one would think he was waiting for his sentence at court.

"Stand up, Felix," Hyunjin said, gentler this time. He discarded his bag on the floor. "Warm up for five minutes and choose a song you think targets your weaknesses. We will go through each move one at a time."

Felix stood, slow and deliberate, looking as if he were forcing every muscle to move against his will. He didn't look at Hyunjin, just walked to the center of the room and began stretching, his jaw visibly clenched.

Hyunjin watched, arms crossed. The squeak of Felix's sneakers on the polished wood floor was the only sound in the room besides the soft hum of the air conditioning. Hyunjin already wanted this to end.

Felix's warm-up was sloppy. It was too rushed, too nervous. His shoulders were tight, his shifts uneven. Hyunjin's fingers twitched with the urge to correct him immediately, but he bit his tongue. Let him finish. Let him realize it himself.

Felix grabbed his phone, scrolling through songs before landing on Side Effects, their old song that was fast, technical, the kind of track that was mainly focused on footwork.

At least he knew what he sucked at.

Felix took a breath, then started dancing.

And it was bad.

Not ridiculously so. Felix was still the lead dancer, and it was obvious that he was competent in his craft, but his control was off. His landings were heavy, his turns unbalanced, his transitions messy where they should've been fluid. Hyunjin didn't wait for him to finish.

"Stop."

Felix froze mid-move, chest rising and falling with exertion. He turned, eyes wary.

Hyunjin stepped forward, pointing at the mirror. "See that?"

Felix frowned. "See what?"

"Your core." Hyunjin tapped his own stomach. "You're dropping it every time you pivot. You're thinking about your feet, not your core. That's why you're stumbling."

Felix's brows knit together. He glanced at the mirror, replaying the move.

Hyunjin didn't give him time to think too much. "Again. From the top. And this time, breathe in."

Felix hesitated, but did as he was told.

The music started.

This time, Hyunjin didn't let him get past the first turn before cutting in. "No. You're forcing it." He stepped behind Felix, hovering just outside his space. "You're pulling your shoulders back like someone is about to hit you. Relax."

Felix exhaled sharply, adjusting.

Hyunjin nodded. "Better."

And it was.

Felix's next attempt was cleaner. Smoother. Still not perfect, but the difference was there, even if it was small.

Hyunjin didn't praise him, just moved on. "Now the footwork. You're dragging your left foot. It's lazy."

Felix's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.

Good.

They drilled the same eight-count for twenty minutes. Hyunjin went through every shift in weight, every flick of the wrist, every microsecond where Felix's energy wavered. Felix had trouble keeping up and tended to forget he was supposed to dance, which got on Hyunjin's nerves.

"This isn't a rehearsal for failure, Felix. Dance."

And, surprisingly, Felix was listening.

His frustration and anger were still there, boiling under the surface, but something else flickered in his expression every time Hyunjin's corrections worked. Confusion.

He was confused.

Like he couldn't believe Hyunjin actually knew what he was doing. Like this was some kind of a revelation to him.

Hyunjin ignored him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

God, this fucking kid.

Nearly an hour had passed since the start of the session, and Hyunjin was as unrelenting as before. He was standing by Felix, watching his every move, while Felix was struggling with the choreo, his exhaustion slowing down his movements.

Hyunjin didn't even bat an eye. "Again," he said, voice flat.

Felix wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his ribs heaving under sweat-soaked fabric. When he pushed upright, his left knee buckled, just for a second, but enough to send him stumbling into the mirror with an echoing thud.

Hyunjin's gaze snapped to Felix's reflection. The guy's shirt slipped, showing his pale skin and jutting bones. The dancer looked at his waist, almost narrow enough to span with two hands.

How thin was Felix, exactly? No wonder he was so exhausted.

"Again," Hyunjin repeated, slower this time.

Felix's knuckles whitened around the hem of his shirt. And, for a moment, Hyunjin thought he might refuse, then he inhaled sharply and continued dancing.

His movements were cleaner now, but his breath came in ragged gasps. When he spun, the mirror caught the tremor in his thighs.

Hyunjin sighed. No point continuing now, not when Felix looked as if he were about to pass out. "You did good. Take a rest now," the older man said, nodding at Felix.

Felix gaped at Hyunjin in surprise, stilling, not having expected the praise.

Hyunjin's gaze hardened.

"Or do you want to continue?" He asked, raising a brow.

Felix's jaw tightened. "Fuck off."

Hyunjin watched him go, then called after him, voice icy and deliberate, "You're welcome."

The door slammed shut behind him.

═══════

"So how was it? How was Felix? Was he good?" Jisung asked from the kitchen counter, where he and Seungmin were busy devouring leftover bibimbap Changbin had ordered the night before.

Hyunjin glanced their way, brow raised. Since when had his and Changbin's dorm become a public gathering spot?

"How long have you two been here?"

"Not long," Seungmin answered, shrugging. "Changbin-hyung called us to fix an issue with his computer. Said that it was urgent."

Hyunjin sighed, dropping his bag on the couch before sinking into the cushions, his every moment slow and heavy.

"Was it that bad, man?" Jisung said with a laugh. "You look like you've seen death."

"Not bad, no. He's just impossible to deal with."

"And whose fault is that, huh? Had it been any one of us instead of you, he would be sunshine personified," Jisung shot back, scowling. "You made him act this way, admit it."

Hyunjin frowned, meeting his gaze. "Do I seem dumb to you?"

Jisung shrugged. "Maybe, yeah."

Seungmin snorted, his eyes still on the food. "Sung got a point. You made Yongbokkie this way. So now you have to bear it."

"Your Yongbokkie needs to learn how to control his emotions better," Hyunjin snapped, dragging out the name with clear contempt. "Which is your fault too, by the way," he added, looking at his bandmates accusingly, his lips a thin, hard line.

"Oh?" Jisung asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. "How come, genius?"

"You're treating him like he's incapable of handling himself. What do you think that will result in?"

"So treating him like he's a stinky sock is better, Hyunjin-ah? So should we all glare and ignore him like you do?"

Hyunjin sneered at the rapper. "I'm saying to treat him like a functional human being. Why are you babying him so much? What's the point?"

Jisung glanced at Seungmin with an expression that read, Is he serious right now?, then looked back at Hyunjin and said, "You can't be serious, Hyunjin. What's the point? Are you blind or something?"

Blind? Of what? What the hell did he mean?

"What?"

Jisung took a breath in before looking at him, his gaze full of judgment. "You're so ignorant, man," The rapper said, his voice a low growl.

Before Hyunjin could say something, Seungmin stepped in, trying to ease the tension. "So how was the session?"

Hyunjin took a moment to respond, wondering what Jisung meant. Was something wrong with Felix that he didn't know about?

"It went fine," he said, deciding to find out what Jisung meant later. "He's a good dancer."

The conversation went on smoothly, the three of them discussing their schedules, upcoming events, and the comeback music video that would be filmed in almost five days. After nearly two weeks of receiving silent treatment from his bandmates, Hyunjin felt a sense of relief at being acknowledged once again. Initially, he didn't feel much of a loss, not thinking or caring much about the others, but right then, he realized that it wasn't the case.

He was more dependent on his bandmates than he realized.

But it had its limits. As much as Hyunjin tried to blend in with them, he couldn't replicate the same genuine love they had towards each other, shown in small details, like gift giving, honest interest in their daily tasks, and readiness to drop everything and help each other no matter the situation. The most Hyunjin could do was to copy their actions, not because he felt any inclination to do so, but because he respected the group's harmony and was unwilling to stand out as a let-down.

But it was still hard, considering how frequently his bandmates showed affection. Even now, Seungmin was leaning into Jisung, almost hugging him, while Jisung was talking about how he wanted to visit Australia to get to know his members' homeland better, adding that he wanted to see their medals in swimming and taekwondo to be fully convinced they were true. The sight was almost domestic, both of them appearing at ease, fully at home.

He watched his bandmates, wondering what their reaction would be if they found out that Hyunjin they knew was just a poor attempt at normality.

He pictured their faces, looking confused, questioning, when he told them he didn't have the same feelings they did, that he never would. He didn't give two shits about their hobbies, their families, their struggles. That he sometimes wished he could care, just to experience something new, something other than the sheer, overwhelming boredom he felt whenever he was alone with his thoughts.

They would be shocked, wouldn't they? Hyunjin wasn't the warmest or the kindest of them all, but he did a good job playing his role of being average, not too emotional but sentimental enough to be believable. He painted, read poems, watched romantic movies, listened to ballads, and danced with a passion that burned like a star: beautiful, powerful, and impossibly out of reach.

But, in reality, Hyunjin had no identity. Not one that counted. After all, all that differentiated humans from machines was their emotions.

But if that were true, who was Hyunjin exactly?

His mood soured. He looked at his bandmates' smiling faces, his lips in a grim line. All of a sudden, it bothered him. Their laughter clawed on his nerves. He wanted them to shut the hell up.

He stood up, not wanting to be with them anymore. His chair slid over with a loud screech, startling his bandmates into silence.

"I'm going to my room," he said, not looking at either of them. "Leave something for hyung, too. He paid for the food."

He didn't wait for their response, walking up to his room without a single glance in their direction. Something ugly and corrosive burned in his gut, which Hyunjin couldn't name at first, but almost laughed when he realized what it was.

Jealousy.

He was jealous of his friends because they were everything he was not. They had a personality. They never had to second-guess if they had one at all. They had the capacity to experience a variety of emotions, something that made their lives richer and more exciting, but was simply out of reach for Hyunjin. All he was left with was a head that was constantly clear, stimulated by barely anything at all.

He closed the door behind him, taking a minute to calm himself down. But nothing was working. He let out a bitter chuckle, mocking himself for being overdramatic about a state outside his control.

"For fuck's sake," he whispered, his tone reprimanding. "Stop being pathetic."

But it wasn't going away. The jealousy now felt like a bitter, acidic taste on his tongue, eating him from inside. He stared at the window, standing perfectly still in the middle of his bedroom, and a single, devastating thought crystallized in his mind.

Who am I exactly? Am I anything at all?

═══════

It almost became a habit, studying Felix.

Hyunjin didn't like not knowing, especially when everyone, as it seemed, was informed but him. Jisung's words, "You're so ignorant," were repeating in his head, almost like a constant sting that he couldn't get rid of until he finally found out what was so wrong with Felix that he needed to be put in constant surveillance, with his bandmates accompanying him all the time.

He hadn't noticed it before, how protective others were of Felix. The guy was constantly surrounded by people, almost as if the band had made a pact to never leave him alone. Felix was taking a walk outside? Minho would be there, his hand laced with his bandmate's, ready to walk for miles if Felix so requested. Felix was talking to a staff member? Chan would certainly be with him, looming over like an unwanted barnacle. Felix was going to the gym? Changbin was more than ready to go with him, with Han waiting in line as a backup if his hyung was too busy.

It was infuriating. Not only for Hyunjin, but it seemed to be for Felix as well. The guy was restricted at all times, with no space left to breathe. He would tense up when his bandmates were too close, appearing ready to flee if they insisted on not leaving him alone. His shoulders were hunched at all times, almost as if he was bracing for impact, even if all his bandmates did was be around him and make sure he was alright.

But Hyunjin, for the life of him, couldn't figure out what was wrong with Felix in the first place.

Nothing Felix did was suspicious: he ate regular meals, he went to the gym, he didn't appear exhausted, he was smiling and laughing just like everyone else. The only odd thing about him was that he pretended to eat on camera, which wasn't even that strange, considering how wary he was of his image. But the guy didn't look depressed. Quite the opposite, actually – Felix was a little ball of energy everywhere he went, even if he was uncomfortable with the excessive attention he received from the others.

Hyunjin had heard fans call Felix an "angel" during meet-and-greets, and he never put much thought into it, deeming the comments overdramatic. After all, some fans called Hyunjin "sunshine" and "lovely," some even going so far as to call him "my heart," which he found ridiculous, because he was anything but.

But Felix, in reality, resembled an angel to the point that it almost seemed performative.

Hyunjin watched him, analyzed his every move from afar, every microexpression he had, every little gesture he made, and not once did Felix show the same anger and frustration he expressed whenever Hyunjin was closeby. He was visibly uncomfortable, downright annoyed at times, but he never took his fury out on any of his bandmates, even when they invaded his personal space and left him no air to breathe. He always tried to smile at others, even when it was obvious he didn't like the people he was talking to. He would never be caught not smiling at his fans, for example, even after they crowded him or invaded his privacy. Felix was angry, that much was clear, his hands balled into tight fists, but his face remained as neutral as ever, with the same warm smile stitched on his face.

The guy even cooked meals for everyone, for fuck's sake, visiting their dorms one by one and leaving his home-cooked goods with the same, "I cooked for me and Seungminnie today and we had leftovers. It's not a big deal," even though it was obvious the meals were made specifically with the others in mind. He even gave them heart-shaped brownies with their names frosted on top, like this was a Disney movie and he was the selfless protagonist who gave everything and demanded nothing in return.

Hyunjin couldn't help but laugh, finding the situation hilarious. It was almost like Felix was a direct contradiction of himself. Felix had nothing in common with him, not one trait Hyunjin could relate to. It was almost a rule of physics: whatever Felix did, Hyunjin would do the exact opposite in the same given situation. If Felix was A, Hyunjin was -Z.

They were filming for a comeback now, the set a deliberately chaotic urban landscape constructed within a vast studio in Seoul. The wind was blowing in their faces, whipping at their stylists' meticulously done hair, while the speakers blared their upcoming song loud enough for the whole city to hear. Hyunjin was on a break, watching others film like Seungmin, Jeongin, and Minho were. It was night, thankfully, but it was still humid, with drops of sweat running down his forehead and ruining the makeup underneath.

Hyunjin slumped in a folding chair, watching as Felix finished his solo close-ups. The director's voice crackled over the speaker, "Good! Now, Felix-ssi, give us pain, like you're remembering something tragic!"

Felix's face shifted instantly, his eyes pained, his lips trembling. It was impressive, really, how easy it was for Felix to switch expressions on command. The life of an idol, apparently.

"God, I hate heat," Jeongin muttered, throwing his head back against the chair. "What time is it?"

"It's almost twelve p.m.," Seungmin answered, cooling himself with a water bottle.

Jeongin groaned, edging his fingers through his hair.

"It's been only two hours since we started, then? Feels like five, if you ask me."

"Stop complaining," Minho warned as he poured himself a drink from the dispenser nearby. "Chan-hyung said we will be off at three, probably. Not that much left."

"Three hours? How am I supposed to-"

"Quiet. It'll be your turn soon," Minho pointed at the stylist, who was calling Jeongin over. "Go."

Seungmin laughed when Jeongin groaned once again before standing up slowly, stretching his head and walking toward the stylist with a petulant scowl. Minho sighed, shaking his head before taking Jeongin's seat, right beside Hyunjin.

"How's life, Hyunjin-ah? Feels like we haven't talked in a while," Minho asked with a gentle smile before taking a sip. "You look gloomy."

Seungmin didn't let Hyunjin answer. "It's just his face, hyung."

Minho chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, yeah. But I heard you were a mentor to Bokkie last Sunday? How did that go?"

Hyunjin shrugged. "It wasn't a disaster. Chan-hyung helped a lot."

"That's good." Minho gave him a small smile. "You know, I think it's great that you're the one who is mentoring him. I didn't know you could be a great teacher."

Hyunjin looked at him skeptically, eyeing him with a raised brow. "Why are you sure that I am?"

Minho shrugged, placing his drink on a nearby stool. "Felix told me that you were. He was surprised himself, mind you. The poor kid looked exhausted, had me worried for a second, but when I asked him, he told me that you were effective. An asshole, but effective nonetheless."

Hyunjin shrugged, going back to watching his members film. "Who would've thought I would be great at something I trained nearly a decade for."

Minho laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Yeah, yeah. Surprising indeed." He paused before letting out a small, "Oh!" grinning at Felix, who was currently walking toward them. "He's coming! Hyunjin, behave."

Hyunjin didn't react, watching his bandmate, trying to find any signs of excessive exhaustion, but like always, there were none. Felix was smiling, looking at his bandmates with tender eyes while actively avoiding acknowledging Hyunjin's presence.

"Felix-ah! Come here!" Minho exclaimed, gesturing for Felix to come over. "You want a seat? You were out there for a long time. Must be tired, yeah?"

Felix looked around, noticing that all the seats were taken, the set not having enough chairs for everyone to begin with. He shook his head, like the saint he was, not wanting to bother anyone. "I'm fine, hyung. How are you?"

God, this pitiful kid.

Hyunjin stood up slowly, giving up his seat, and went to the dispenser to pour a cold drink. His bandmates went quiet, looking at him with surprise, almost as if they couldn't believe that Hyunjin had basic manners, even if the matter involved Felix.

Hyunjin scowled, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

"Sit down before I change my mind," he told Felix, gesturing to the seat.

Felix looked at him with furrowed brows, his expression turning grim. "No."

"Stop being a child, Felix," the dancer said with a sneer, already at the last threads of his patience.

"Hyunjin, no-" Seungmin tried to interrupt, but Felix was quicker, his anger simmering like a volcano ready to erupt.

"What's your problem? Why can't you just not be an asshole for a second?"

Suddenly, a tiny, familiar jolt went through Hyunjins spine, making his hackles raise. It was one of the things that he had gotten used to while being near Felix from the start. It seemed like not only his mind, but his body rejected Felix near him as well. One wrong move, one of those manufactured emotions Felix wore, and Hyunjin's skin already prickled with annoyance.

Felix's outburst grabbed the attention of the staff nearby. They looked at them, some of them startled, some confused, not expecting members of the band to have disharmony within the group. But, as expected, they quickly looked away, acting as if they saw nothing in the first place.

Hyunjin glowered, taking a moment to calm himself down for his image's sake. After a moment of silence, his voice returned to its soft tone, almost gentle in comparison to how it was before. "I just told you to sit down, Felix. Get over yourself."

Felix appeared ready to pounce, his face reddening with anger. "You're such a cunt."

"Language," Hyunjin tutted. "The saints are watching."

Minho tagged Felix's sleeve, forcing him to take Hyunjin's seat. "Stop it, Yongbokkie. You're causing a scene."

Felix crossed his arms over his chest, his frustration still visible, even as he tried to control his anger by taking deep breaths.

Hyunjin couldn't help but laugh. Even while angry, Felix still looked warm and friendly, his delicate features making it impossible for him to appear intimidating. His small frame didn't help either, looking more like a precious porcelain doll trying to scowl than a fully-grown man confronting his bandmate.

"What's so funny?" Felix asked through gritted teeth, looking at Hyunjin accusingly.

Hyunjin shrugged, turning his back and pouring down the rest of his drink. "Nothing important, Yongbokkie."

He didn't even have to turn around to see how Felix reacted to his comment, hearing the guy blow a short fuse. "You insufferable- No, Seungmin, I won't calm down! Didn't you hear him?"

"That's enough, Yongbok," he heard Minho say, firmer this time.

Felix slumped into the chair, his arms still crossed, his jaw tight. Minho chuckled, petting his head, praising him for complying, "Good. Stay calm now. Our Hyunjin-ah here is like this all the time, so don't take it personally, okay? It's not really about you, jagiya."

Hyunjin grinned into his cup. Someone understood, finally.

Ten minutes or so passed, with the group continuing their conversation before Felix joined in. The topics of discussion were boring, all involving their future plans, so Hyunjin tuned it out, choosing instead to observe Felix once again, trying to find something unusual, even a tiny hint that could point to his illnesses, whether physical or psychological.

But there was barely anything. Maybe some tiny signs that he was fatigued, like how his eyes were dilated, even in the bright lights of the studio, and how he took eighteen breaths per minute, compared to the group's twelve to fourteen, but nothing alarming. The guy was clearly exhausted, like all of them were.

But, as the time passed, Hyunjin realized that this wasn't a simple exhaustion. This was something else.

Finally.

The band kept on talking, but Felix was sitting there, barely listening, his eyes wandering over the whole studio, even meeting Hyunjin's gaze once before Felix looked away, his gaze turning hard again. He seemed to have trouble concentrating on what his bandmates were saying, which wasn't surprising, given that the thumb of his left hand kept pressing into his other one, over and over, as if trying to staunch an invisible wound. Not invisible, actually. Were these teeth marks?

Interesting.

Felix's hand trembled as he reached for his water bottle. Hyunjin's eyes tracked the movement of his throat as he drank, each swallow appearing to be a painful effort. Felix mumbled something to Minho, a quick smile plastered on his face before he hurried away, his steps urgent, running toward the bathroom as if he were about to be sick.

Nobody noticed it but Hyunjin, it seemed, the group going back to their conversation as if nothing was wrong, which was shocking. Given how protective the band was of their sunshine, one would think they wouldn't miss such obvious signs of distress, but here they were, failing at their roles. Against Hyunjin, no less.

Without a word, Hyunjin pushed off from where he'd been leaning and crossed to the service table. He grabbed a gum, pocketing it in his pants. The room's chatter continued uninterrupted as he walked to the bathroom, listening for confirmation of what he already knew was the truth.

And then he heard it, the gurgling, pained sound of someone vomiting.

Hyunjin almost smiled with victory.

He waited for Felix to finish, listening to the toilet flush before water ran. It wasn't long before Felix came out of the room, looking a little disheveled and nauseous, his skin still pale. He was looking around, almost as if checking if he was alone, if any of his bandmates were near.

Oh, so he didn't want his bandmates to know?

Hyunjin could see why. If there were any of his members here now instead of himself, they would want the filming to be delayed, too concerned with Felix to continue like it was a regular working day.

But thankfully, for both of them, it was just Hyunjin, who couldn't give less of a shit.

Felx didn't notice him at first, because he stood a little distance away from the door. But as Felix started walking back to the group, Hyunjin stopped him, offering the gum he had grabbed earlier.

Hyunjin held out the gum between two fingers, his smile knife-sharp. "Here."

Felix flinched, his breath hitching. For a split second, his mask slipped. His eyes went wide, and his lips parted as if he'd been caught on the crime scene. Then, it was gone, replaced by a weak glare.

"What?"

Hyunjin tilted his head, a slow, deliberate movement. "Acid ruins your breath." He paused before tutting, "You didn't know? How long have you been bulimic, really?"

A moment of silence passed. Felix seemed unable to react. His throat worked, and his fingers twitched at his sides. The bright lights caught the sweat at his temples and the tremor in his jaw. The guy looked terrified, ashamed, as if his biggest secret had just been exposed. Which seemed to be true.

Why was everyone aware of his eating disorder but Hyunjin? Hyunjin would like to know.

"I don't know what you're-"

"Just take the gum, Felix," Hyunjin said, offering it again.

Felix flinched as if he'd been struck. His chest rose too fast, his knuckles whitening around the hem of his shirt.

"Fuck you. Fuck you for-"

"For what? Being kind? I'm being nothing but considerate right now."

Felix laughed, almost hysterically. "You're anything but kind, Hyunjin," he said. "Do you even know what that means? Do you even care about anyone but yourself?"

What was this, a second-grade dispute? Did Felix actually expect him to be offended?

Hyunjin shrugged, lowering the hand with the gum. It wasn't like Felix was going to take it anyway.

"And how is being selfless working out for you? You don't seem to be doing so well," he said, smiling, before pointing at Felix's shirt, which had a fresh tinge. "Remove that before it stains."

"Go to hell, you-"

"A simple thank you would do. See you later, angel," he said, his voice gentle, walking back to the group and leaving his angry bandmate behind.

Chapter Text

Felix was on the verge of passing out, again.

Thirty minutes into the session, his body was already betraying him. His chest heaved like he'd run a marathon, his thighs trembled under his weight, and sweat streamed down his neck in thick, sticky flow. He moved through the same five counts of a long-forgotten choreography, his reflection in the mirror a blurry, distorted thing, like he was watching himself from some distant corner of the studio rather than living inside his own skin.

God, he couldn't breathe.

Hyunjin noticed it. Of course he did. With his observational skills and keen senses that only worked to his advantage, nothing really went past him, as long as he cared enough to observe.

And Hyunjin right now didn't care. He was standing behind Felix, his arms crossed over his chest, watching his reflection with the same narrowed, sharp gaze that never failed to get under Felix's skin.

"Again, but faster this time," Hyunjin said, his voice flat. "Don't forget to breathe."

But Felix couldn't. He stopped, gripping his knees. His fingers dug into the fabric of his sweatpants, gulping down air like a drowning man. It wasn't enough. His head was too heavy, his limbs too weak. He needed-

He needed to get out.

He should have eaten before. He knew that he should have eaten before. But he never really ate anything that counted. No matter what, nothing went into his stomach and stayed there. Nothing that could prepare him for the mentorship sessions anyway.

He looked at Hyunjin in the mirror, their gazes meeting.

What would his bandmate think when Felix proved, again and again, that he was nothing but a "pathetic, blubbering child" like he said he was? That he couldn't even carry his weight in the band? That he was so weak that he needed six men to constantly watch over him to protect him from himself?

How pathetic could a person be?

"I-I can't. I need a break," he said, trying his best to sound firm. But his voice broke, adding to his shame.

It was enough of an embarrassment to admit that he needed a break, but even more of an embarrassment when he had come to realize that Hyunjin was right. Felix couldn't handle him. He was not born for this, whatever they had right now. He was not born for the insults, the constant tension, the overwhelming pressure to live up beyond expectations, to prove Hyunjin wrong.

He was already failing, for God's sake, and they hadn't even started yet.

Hyunjin eyed him, looking even more unimpressed than before.

"It has been only half an hour, Felix."

Felix sank on his knees, no longer having the strength to remain standing.

"I know, alright? I fucking know!" The shout tore from his throat before he could stop it, and instantly, his head spun, his ears ringing.

Shit.

And, like his weak state wasn't enough, he felt his eyes water, tears threatening to spill from his lids.

He didn't even register Hyunjin crouching down in front of him.

"Look at me." Hyunjin's voice was softer than Felix expected. It made his stomach twist.

"No," Felix said, scooting away.

Hyunjin didn't let him. The dancer gripped his arm, hard. "Look at me, Felix."

"No! Leave me alone!"

He could almost hear Hyunjin's patience snap in half. The dancer gripped his chin, forcing his head up until their eyes locked.

"I fucking said look at me, is that hard to understand?!" Hyunjin's voice rose, booming in the studio with a frightening echo.

The tears Felix had been holding back finally broke free. He sobbed, trying to loosen Hyunjin's grip, but his hands were useless, his body betraying him when he needed it most.

"Go-go away! Go! Leave me alone!" he cried, clawing at Hyunjin's hand.

The grip on his chin tightened like a vice.

"I'm calling Chan-hyung," Hyunjin said, standing up. Felix's head dropped, tears streaming down his face.

"No!" Felix's voice cracked. "Don't! I, I-"

His vision almost blacked out.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Hyunjin gritted out, his voice muffled and distant.

Felix didn’t hear anything for a moment, just the pounding in his ears, until something ice-cold hit the back of his neck. He jolted, gasping, as water trickled down his spine and soaked the collar of his shirt.

Hyunjin was standing over him now with an open water bottle in one hand. Without warning, he poured it entirely over Felix’s head.

The shock of cold made Felix flinch violently, his breath coming in ragged bursts as water slid over his face and blurred his vision.

“S-stop! No! Stop!” he sputtered, throwing his hands up too late to shield himself.

Hyunjin didn't. He poured water until no drop remained in the bottle. The same strong grip returned to his chin, forcing his head up until he was staring directly into Hyunjin's face.

And such a sight it was. Here was Felix, with tears running down his face, his lips trembling as he panted aloud, and Hyunjin, who was looking at him with a glare, his eyes so piercing that they sent a fresh set of tears running down Felix's face.

"Give me a reason, Felix," he said, his voice low. "One reason why I shouldn't call hyung now."

"I don't-I-"

"Now!" Hyunjin shouted. "Give me a reason now!"

Felix scrambled back, shaking his head, but Hyunjin's grip stopped him, the hold strong enough for his face to remain immobile.

"I don't want him," he cried out, his voice shaky. "I-I don't… I want to be alone. I need a b-break."

"A break?" Hyunjin asked, as if the words themselves were foreign. "You think a break will help you?"

Felix's hands trembled where they clutched at Hyunjin's wrist.

"You're sick, Felix," Hyunjin said, without any sympathy at all. "And it's only going to get worse. There's no point practicing then, is it? Or being idol overall? What use does your thin body have when you can barely function with it?"

The words hit him like a physical blow. Felix closed his eyes, willing himself to stand up, to get a grip, but he couldn't. His limbs were heavy, weak. He was sure he'd collapse the moment he tried to stand anyway.

It's not true, he told himself, holding back sobs. It's not true. Hyunjin didn't know shit he was talking about. He didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t…

But it hurts. It hurts so much. Every word pierced through his skin, leaving a mark.

Why did he feel like he was in a cage with a monster? That he wasn't talking to a human being?

"Leave me a-alone," he managed to say, his voice barely audible.

"The fuck I will," Hyunjin said, finally releasing his chin. Felix's head dropped immediately. "You're my responsibility, didn't hyung say so?" He let out a bitter laugh. "He will be disappointed when he finds you passed out here, alone."

Felix shook his head. "I don't care."

"Neither do I, Felix, but we all have to pretend." Hyunjin heaved a sigh, as if the idea of pretending was a chore. Felix heard the sound of his shoes on the squeaky floor before a water bottle touched his lips. "Drink."

After a second of hesitation, Felix complied. The first gulps felt like pure relief. He almost choked, drinking too fast, but Hyunjin pulled the bottle away.

"Slow down," Hyunjin said, letting out an irritated sound when Felix gripped the bottle, trying to take it away. "Slow the fuck down."

After Felix stopped moving, he let him drink, scoffing as he said, "You think I'm going to take it away? Don't be ridiculous."

Felix's head pounded. He tried to push himself up, but his legs buckled, sending him crashing back down with a muffled cry.

He heard Hyunjin sigh, exasperated, and Felix was almost sure he would finally leave him alone then, but he felt hands gripping him by the underarms, yanking him upright with a grunt. His head lolled against Hyunjin's shoulder like a ragged doll, his body fully leaning against him like the useless shit it was.

Hyunjin held him by the waist, supporting his weight as he guided him toward the sofa. Each step Felix took backwards, Hyunjin countered with a step forward, until he was gently dropped onto the soft cushion below.

"Do you need a doctor?"

Felix curled tighter into himself, knees pressing against his ribs as if he could fold his body small enough to disappear.

“No,” he answered, his voice scraped raw. “I just need a minute to breathe.”

He didn't hear anything from Hyunjin afterwards. There were no sounds in the room except the hum of the air conditioner.  Felix counted the seconds by the throbbing behind his eyelids. Five minutes passed, then ten. He was convinced he was alone by now, but then, shockingly enough, he heard Hyunjin speak from a corner of the room.

"Are you alright now?"

He wasn't. His head felt a little lighter, and some strength was returning to his legs, but it was nowhere near enough. "No."

Hyunjin sighed again. Felix cracked an eye open, just enough to see him slouched against the wall, staring at the ceiling like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, like this was some punishment for him.

The anger came then, hot and sudden.

"You can go," Felix spat.

He didn't want Hyunjin here anyway. He never asked for this. Why was Hyunjin treating him like he was a liability?

Hyunjin didn't answer, just let out a lifeless, dry laugh.

"Leave," Felix insisted, his voice rising.

"Christ, you’re loud even when you’re dying."

"And you can’t even pretend that you can be a human being for five fucking seconds."

He expected Hyunjin to snap, given his atrocious temperament, but the dancer just laughed, genuinely this time, without saying a word.

Felix fell silent then, going back to taking breaths to regain the clarity of his head.

Minutes of silence passed once again, the atmosphere in the studio so relaxing that Felix struggled to stay alert, even with the monster in the room nearby.

He heard footsteps before he felt a presence near him. He peeled his lids open, gazing up at his bandmate, who stood over him, bags slung over his shoulder. "Stand up. We are going back to the dorms."

Felix wanted to retort, but bit his tongue, wanting nothing more than to go home. He slowly straightened up, ignoring the mild head rush it caused, and stood on his shaky legs.

He grimaced, wishing the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

God, how pathethic, how fucking weak…

Hyunjin watched him, assessing. "Do you feel well enough to walk on your own?"

Was he serious? Was this a test to see if Felix would beg for his help? To embarrass him more than he already did?

Felix glared. "As if I have a choice."

"You're right, you don't," Hyunjin said with a smile. "But it's polite to ask, isn't it?"

"Oh, fuck you."

Hyunjin laughed, walking to the exit and holding the door open for him like a gentleman.

"After you, angel."

═══════

"Felix? You alright?" He heard Jisung ask behind the closed door.

Felix burrowed deeper under the covers, the fabric heavy over his head, blocking out the world. He just wanted to be alone.

After Hyunjin had dumped him on Seungmin and Minho, and told them about what happened, his bandmates have been mother-henning him non-stop. Seungmin, at least, had the decency to hover quietly, leaving water and painkillers on the nightstand without comment. But Minho was another story entirely.

He watched him shower.

Leaning against a wall, Minho was there, making sure he wouldn't pass out from exhaustion. “I don’t care, Felix-ah. I would rather have you ashamed than dropped on the floor,” he insisted, leaving no room for argument. He even helped him clean his hair when he noticed him getting tired, toweling him off like a child. Afterwards, he made him eat soup, watching him take every bite to make sure it went down.

And now, just when Felix thought he'd finally earned peace, Jisung came to check on him.

"Felix?"

A sigh escaped him, muffled by the blankets. He knew Jisung wouldn't leave.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

"Okay."

The door creaked. Footsteps padded across the floor, the mattress dipping as Jisung settled beside him, undoubtedly in his outside clothes. Felix's frustration grew, but he didn't say a word.

A warm hand rubbed slow circles over the blanket, right between his shoulder blades.

"How are you, Felix-ah?"

"I'm better than before. Head still hurts, but I'm okay."

Jisung exhaled, the sound fond.

"Head still hurts, huh? No wonder. Hyunjin can be a pain in the ass."

Felix shook his head, the motion barely visible under the covers.

"It's not entirely his fault. I was just not feeling well from the morning."

He wouldn't let them blame Hyunjin. If they did, the dancer would lash out, and Felix couldn't handle angry Hyunjin now. Not ever again.

"Ah, I doubt that." Jisung's voice was light, but firm. "It's okay to blame him, you know? I don't know how your sessions usually go, but it's probably not pleasant. Chan-hyung wasn't right when he paired you with him."

Felix let out a slow breath.

He wished Chan wasn't so insistent, too.

He'd begged him, spun every excuse he could think of: Hyunjin's an asshole, he will get on my nerves, I'll work harder with anyone else, but the leader hadn't budged.

"I know. I wish he didn't." The words were barely a whisper.

"I'll talk to him, if you want?" Jisung's fingers stilled on his back. "Lino would be happy to mentor you, too, and he's a better dancer anyway."

"Will hyung listen? No."

"Maybe not, but after he hears what happened to you today, he might." A pause. "He knows Hyunjin isn't cut out for those situations. He can barely handle it when Binnie has a flu. The guy has no gentle bone in his body, I'm telling you."

Felix scoffed.

"He's just cruel, Sung. That's what he is. He has no empathy for anyone."

"Hey, no." The blankets were yanked down suddenly, exposing Felix to the dim bedroom light. Jisung's face hovered above him, eyebrows pinched. "What makes you think that way?"

Felix squinted against the brightness.

"Isn't it obvious? He cares about no one but himself. He's cruel."

"I think you're mistaken," Jisung said, his voice steady. "Cruel person would leave you there by yourself. He helped you, didn't he?"

"He did, but he said he wouldn't care if Chan-hyung didn't make me his responsibility."

"Hyunjin's… complicated, I guess," Jisung sighed, picking at the blanket. He smiled then, but cautiously, like he was afraid of hurting Felix’s feelings. "What he says and what he does are two different things. Just based on his actions, he's not cruel, no?"

Felix hesitated before responding. Hyunjin wasn’t kind, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t cruel either. Not in the way that mattered.

He pushed Felix relentlessly in practice, drilling him until his muscles burned and his lungs screamed for mercy. He didn’t let up until Felix was on the verge of collapse, but he did stop. Every time. Even if it was with a scoff, even if it was with that infuriatingly indifferent look on his face.

And today, despite the harshness, Hyunjin had helped him. Not gently, not with patience, but he had.

Yet his words still cut deeper than any criticism from the company ever had.

"There’s no point practicing then, is it? Or being an idol overall?"

The words were taunting, painful. Because the worst part wasn’t that Hyunjin had said them, it was that Felix had already thought them himself. A hundred times over. He just hadn’t dared to speak them aloud.

"Why are you defending him anyway?" Felix asked, his voice rising. "It's not like he has done much for you. He hasn't done much for anyone in the band."

Jisung shrugged.

"I just want things to go back like they were before, to be honest. And it's not like Hyunjin's going to let you die or something," he said. "I know you hate him, and I hate him too sometimes, but you're just discrediting him now. He's not some cartoon villain, Felix. He can be caring too."

"Oh? And how does he show care, then?" Felix's fingers twisted in the sheets. "He's been nothing but an asshole to me."

"He learns from his mistakes." Jisung's eyes locked onto his. "If he does something wrong and I call him out, he listens. He doesn't repeat it. Has he ever put the group in danger? Remember when he was sick as hell but still danced like nothing was wrong because canceling would've ruined the comeback? A cruel person wouldn't do that."

Felix yanked the covers back over his head.

"Whatever. I don't want to listen to you lecturing me about him."

"Okay, okay. No more lectures. But, Bokkie," Jisung continued, his voice teasing. "I remember how he was your favorite topic to discuss. And that wasn't that long time ago, no?"

Felix's grip on the blanket tightened, his lips in a scowl.

Why was Jisung bringing that up now?

“Shut up.”

"Why should I?" Jisung's laugh was bright, teasing. "You made me defend Jin's honor. I'm just making a point. You were all starry-eyed once. Eh, man, things can change so quickly…"

"I'm going to kick you out."

"Acting like you still don't watch his fancams…"

"I don't!"

Jisung cackled, the bed shifting as he flopped down beside Felix, warmth pressing against his back.

"It's such a pity." Jisung sighed dramatically. "You were so cute when you had a crush on him. Things were good too, weren't they? Even fans were head over heels for you two. That hasn't changed much, but I hope you two reconcile and become friends. Or, hell, just be back to talking terms."

Felix couldn't see that happening any time soon.

Silence settled between them, the distant hum of Seoul's traffic drifting through the window. The air under the covers grew humid, and Felix finally pushed them down, rolling onto his back and scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

Jisung lay beside him, staring at the wall, thoughtful.

"You know what, Felix?"

"What?"

"Do you remember when I told you that you look good beside him?"

Felix frowned. "Who?"

"Hyunjin."

"Ah." Felix exhaled sharply. "Why are you talking about him again?"

Jisung shrugged. "I just can, Bokkie. So? Do you remember?"

Felix didn't say anything for a second.

"I guess I do."

"I was being honest." Jisung grinned. "I actually thought that. I still do."

Felix groaned. "No, Sung. You can't be serious."

"But I am." Jisung's voice was firm, amused. "It's a yin and yang thing. Even as friends, you two would have mad chemistry."

Felix turned his head, staring at him incredulously. Even if they would look good together, why did it matter? He never knew how cruel was Hyunjin back then.

"Shut up."

"Make me." Jisung giggled, yelping when Felix jabbed his ribs. "You'd rival me and Lino-hyung, honestly. Become fans' favorite in a day…"

"Oh my god, shut up!" Felix grabbed the nearest pillow, smashing it over Jisung's face as the rapper dissolved into laughter, the sound bright and uncontainable.

═══════

To say Felix was impressed with Hyunjin when they first met would be a lie.

Pre-debut Hyunjin was nothing special. He rapped decently, danced just fine, and talked just like others did. In a sea of trainees, each sharper, brighter, and more desperate to stand out, Hyunjin had simply existed. His visuals were striking, sure, but so were everyone else's. He had a solid presence in the group, but other than that, nothing about him demanded much attention.

Felix had never been fond of introverts, and Hyunjin was no exception. He preferred high-energy people, the kind who wouldn't tire out no matter how much of himself he poured into a conversation. That was why he'd latched onto Chan so quickly - the leader returned his energy well. Back then, Felix's Korean had been stumbling and broken, and Hyunjin, with his sharp eyes and sharper tongue, had seemed like a locked door Felix didn't have the key to.

So he hadn't tried.

As Felix grew more comfortable with the language, he bonded with his bandmates, but somehow Hyunjin remained out of the loop. Not because he didn't want to become friends with the guy, but because Hyunjin was just not as approachable as others. He was more business-like than any other member in the band. Even Chan, for all his workaholism, knew when to laugh and have fun. Hyunjin just… didn't.

But Hyunjin was growing, and he was growing fast.

His skills were improving at an alarming rate. Within years of the debut, he was already at the top of the dance, stage presence, and visuals. He undoubtedly became one of the most popular members in the group, even though he didn't speak as much as the others did. His fancams, in particular, were shockingly popular, and he was one of the top reasons why people became interested in the band.

Felix told himself he wasn't jealous. He understood talent. He'd spent enough time around prodigies to recognize when someone was simply built differently, like when Jisung picked up rap verses in minutes and Chan composed hits in a day. But Hyunjin's success wasn't just talent. It was something more unsettling, like watching a tiny rock decide to become a mountain in a day.

Where others practiced until their feet bled, Hyunjin moved with the casual precision of someone who'd never doubted his body would obey. Where Felix agonized over every fan comment, Hyunjin scrolled past hate comments like it was weather reports. Where Felix cried over fans neglecting him during meet-and-greets, Hyunjin shrugged it off as if nothing had happened.

Hyunjin had mastered the art of not caring, something that Felix envied deeply.

It showed most during the Kingdom scandal. When Hyunjin was forced into hiatus, he apologized to the members and staff, then left as if it were a vacation. Like public backlash was just part of the job.

"Don't crowd me," he'd told them during their last video call, peeling a tangerine while the members tripped over themselves with concern. The peel came off in one perfect spiral. "It's just three months. You'll survive without me just fine."

That was when Felix realized: some people didn't need what kept you alive. Public love was Felix's oxygen, but for Hyunjin, it barely meant anything at all.

Felix couldn't help looking up to Hyunjin then, trying to replicate some of the calm and grounded atmosphere that surrounded him at all times, but it didn't work. Felix's charm was his energy, so trying to suppress it only dulled him. For Hyunjin, the magnetism was in the stillness, in what he didn't give away.

The more he watched him, the more fascinated Felix got. He started noticing things, like the way Hyunjin needed fifteen minutes every morning to blink himself awake, scowling at sunlight like it had personally offended him. How his sketchbooks were filled with flowers and handwritten poetry, delicate things that contradicted his personality. The meticulous way he organized his space by color rather than function, as if aesthetics mattered more than practicality.

He was intriguing, not because he was so unlike others, but because he never made an effort to be different like others did.

A trait that Felix lacked and would never develop on his own. The fact that he had anorexia (and later on, bulimia) was partly because of that: he wanted to be as thin as possible, to blend in with the idols, to sell the dream and become as loved as everyone else. He wanted to control his public image to the smallest detail, so starvation seemed like a reward rather than the punishment it was. It gave him a sense of victory, a sense of control, which he reveled in unashamedly.

He didn't realize he was attracted to Hyunjin until one night, when he caught him smoking in the dorm, looking more at ease than Felix had ever seen him.

The smoking itself wasn't surprising. Chan and Jisung smoked, and Seungmin vaped. No one minded as long as it was done out of the public's eye.

The dancer was slouched on the couch, his long legs sprawled carelessly, smoking a cigarette as he drew something on a sketchbook. His hair was disheveled, his face bare of any makeup, and he was smiling, just slightly, so small Felix almost doubted it was real.

Felix's breath caught halfway up his throat.

Hyunjin glanced at him then, noticing him standing in the middle of the room, as if in shock.

"You want something?" He asked, his voice soft.

Felix's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Oh, no."

Hyunjin hummed, puffing out the smoke as he went back to sketching something on the paper. Felix peeked at it, and it was, not so surprisingly, a set of flowers, covering the entire page.

"I didn't know you smoked," Felix blurted out mindlessly.

Hyunjin shrugged, taking another draw of the cigarette. "I don't do it often."

"Oh." Felix gulped, watching Hyunjin's full lips wrap around the thin rim. He was unsure what to say. "Why are you smoking now, then?"

"Just the mood," Hyunjin said, smiling. "The weather's nice, isn't it?"

"I guess?" The weather wasn't that nice. It was raining, but just slightly, not even enough for it to be worthy of covering up.

The conversation died out after that, and Felix forced himself to return to Changbin's room, but in reality, all he wanted was to continue watching Hyunjin smoke. His skin prickled with goosebumps even now, remembering Hyunjin that night, of how relaxed and at ease he seemed to be.

He never got to witness that again. Hyunjin rarely smoked when he wasn't alone.

Felix's attraction to men wasn't something new. He'd dated both men and women before. He was lucky he grew up in Australia, where same-sex relationships felt more normal than they did in Korea. He had realized early on that he didn't have a preference, and that was just fine by him, and his family was equally as accepting, just as his members were.

His bandmates noticed his crush sooner than Felix thought they would. But given that he couldn't hide his feelings as expertly as others, and didn't even try to, that wasn't much of a surprise. He openly stared at Hyunjin, watched his fancams when others were near, and became overly interested in conversation if he heard someone mentioning his name. Everyone noticed his feelings, everyone except Hyunjin, who was laser-focused on his skills and hobbies, so much that he didn't notice others at all.

"I think he's aromantic, to be honest," Jisung told him once, when Felix asked him if Hyunjin had ever been in a relationship. "He never mentioned having someone. Sorry, Bokkie."

Felix's face dropped with disappointment. "No, it's okay. Don't be sorry," he said with a sigh. "I guess I should have expected it."

"What, him being aromantic?"

"Yes. It's kind of obvious, isn't it?" Felix asked, his voice quiet. "He doesn't look at anyone like that. But he comes off really romantic, with his hobbies and all."

Jisung shrugged. "I don't know, man. Innie doesn't come off romantic at all, but he's in a relationship."

Right. Surprisingly enough, Jeongin was in a long-term relationship with his childhood friend, and he was way more affectionate than any of them would think him to be.

"My point exactly," Felix argued, vaguely gesturing around. "A person can appear one way and be another. I thought Hyunjin would be interested in romance and be romantic himself, but… yeah. It's a shame."

And a shame it was. Felix had seen Hyunjin turn down Seoul's most sought-after people with the same indifference he showed to a stranger. A famous western singer had slid her number into his jacket pocket at an award show once, and Hyunjin didn't look at it twice before giving it to Jisung who was nearby. The heir of a company sent him custom-made Rolexes every now and then, and they gathered dust in the dorm's long-forgotten bookshelf as if they were not the most expensive things Hyunjin could own.

It wasn't arrogance. That would've been easier pill to swallow. Hyunjin just didn't care about the attention, or nobody was enough for him. It was impossible to tell, really.

But Felix certainly wasn't enough. He wasn't blind. He knew that Hyunjin didn't like him that much. He spoke to him only if Felix initiated the conversation, didn't look at him until it was necessary, and appeared annoyed if he was around Felix for too long. Over time, Felix became convinced Hyunjin outright hated him.

So he pulled back, kept his distance, careful not to irritate him further. Sometimes he even excused himself from group conversations if Hyunjin looked annoyed. But it didn't matter. Hyunjin still seemed bothered just by him for existing.

And Felix never knew why.

As time went by, things got worse and worse, especially for Felix, who never knew how to be disliked before all else. He lived for the praise, applause, validation. So he tried harder. Starved harder. If he couldn't have Hyunjin's affection, he'd have perfection instead.

And the numbers kept shrinking.

First it was 58kg. Then 55. Then 52. Felix tracked each gram lost like a victory, pressing his thumbs into the hollows beneath his ribs where new bones emerged. His hipbones jutted sharp as knife-edges now, he could trace their curves through his sweatpants, count each vertebra when he twisted in the mirror. He had control, where everything else was chaos.

The collapse came during a Tuesday schedule meeting. One moment, he was nodding along; the next, he was in a hospital bed with the sting of an IV needle in his hand.

A woman in a white coat stood at the foot of the bed, flipping through lab results. Dr. Kang, according to her badge.

"Felix-ssi," she began softly, "Your bandmates told me you've been under a lot of stress lately. I've also spoken with your nutritionist. We ran some tests to find out the issue." She paused. "The results were negative… Your BMI is just 16.3. You've lost a significant amount of muscle mass, and it's begun to affect your teeth and hair as well." She met his eyes, her voice gentle. "This is anorexia nervosa, Felix-ssi. A life-threatening illness, as I’m sure you know."

The words hung in the air, cold and clinical, yet they hit him like a physical blow. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could disappear.

He knew. Of course he knew. But to hear it said aloud, to have it diagnosed and confirmed, was a whole new kind of shame.

"This isn't something you can hide for long, you know that, right?" Dr. Kang continued. "You need long-term treatment. A psychiatrist and a cardiologist. But the most important thing right now is to lean on the people who love you. They need to know what you're going through, so they can support you." Het tone softened. "It's a long road, but you don't have to walk it alone."

He nodded, a barely visible dip of his head.

Did he want to tell them?

Part of him did. Imagining their support was comforting. But it felt like an impossible task. It felt like admitting defeat, a final, public surrender. But the doctor's words echoed in his mind. He pictured his friends outside, waiting for him, worry written all over their faces.

He owed them the truth, didn't he?

He decided to tell Seungmin first. Just because he felt like he was the safest choice. He found him in the waiting room, pacing back and forth. Felix pulled him aside, away from the others, his voice a shaky whisper as he said it all aloud. The word "anorexia" felt like a stone in his mouth.

Seungmin didn't say a word. He just listened, his expression growing softer and sadder with each confession. When Felix was done, he simply reached out and wrapped him in a tight, protective hug. It was the only comfort Felix could have asked for.

With Seungmin by his side, he told the rest of the band. Not all of them at once. He started with Minho, then Jeongin, Changbin, Jisung, and finally Chan. He was worried to tell the leader the most, knowing how much responsibility was already on his shoulders, but he was surprised by how accepting and calm Chan appeared, almost as if he'd been waiting for Felix to say it himself. As if he knew.

Only Hyunjin remained in the dark, and for a valid reason.

Felix had made sure Hyunjin was never near when he confessed. He even asked his members, his voice trembling, to make sure not to tell him a thing. Because he couldn't. Hyunjin already hated him just for existing. How would he react if he found out about his baggage? Felix couldn't bear the thought of being hated more than he already was.

But it was unavoidable, wasn't it? Hyunjin found out anyway.

Felix sighed, turning on his bed as he gazed at the window, deep in thought.

Why did it matter now? Now, when Felix hated him equally just as much? Why did Hyunjin's "There's no point practicing then, is it? Or being idol overall? What use does your thin body have when you can barely function with it?" leave such a big impact on him?

Maybe it was the honesty. Or maybe it was something else, something Felix wasn't ready to name himself.

His eyes watered, and before he knew it, fresh tears were pouring down his face.

Chapter Text

This week was going ridiculously well.

With tour preparations becoming their priority, the band was consumed by rehearsals, leaving little room for anything else. The members were too focused on perfecting their skills to be distracted, or bothered, by others. But best of all, Felix was flying abroad in two days for a modeling gig. This meant no mentorship session this week. Which meant freedom.

Hyunjin couldn’t have been happier.

He was in the kitchen now, making a cup of coffee while smoking a cigarette and humming a tune under his breath. It was late; all the bandmates were at their dorms after a long day of training, and he was alone. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this relaxed, this at peace, just from the knowledge of someone's impending absence.

He drew a long, deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of tobacco, dry and slightly sweet, and began frothing the milk for his coffee.

"Du-du-du-du…"

The dorm was mostly still, but he could hear the low murmur of voices from Changbin's room. Chan, probably. There was no one else at this hour who would be willing to put up with Changbin's irritated mood. The leader most likely had some business to do.

Hyunjin’s lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. He could already picture the free time ahead, hours to himself, maybe finishing that portrait he’d been working on for a week now. He imagined the details he would add, the colors he would use, and a deep sense of peace settled in his gut, making him even more pleased than before. Happier, even.

And his members said he was gloomy all the time, but in reality, he was the easiest person to please. A week of not seeing the petulant child and he was already over the moon.

He tapped ash into the sink just as Chan appeared in the doorway, hair damp from a shower, the scent of lemon clinging to him. The oversized shirt he wore clearly belonged to Changbin.

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at the sight. Chan staying in was rare. Maybe spontaneity got the better of him, maybe something else. Either way, Hyunjin didn’t mind. He even offered a small smile.

"Hey, hyung," Hyunjin said, grabbing the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and holding one out. "Want one?"

Chan’s gaze slid to the box, then back at him, puzzled and faintly amused. "I always forget that you smoke, too," he chuckled. "Which brand is this?"

Hyunjin turned the pack in his hand, exhaling a stream of smoke before reading the label. "ESSE."

"Ah, no, thank you. I don’t like it," Chan said, waving it off. "My friend gave it to me once. It’s too light for me."

Hyunjin shrugged. "Do you want coffee, then?"

"That would be great, thank you."

Chan sat while Hyunjin prepared another cup. He expected the leader to make small talk, but Chan just watched him, assessing. The weight of his gaze pricked him, but Hyunjin ignored it. He was probably imagining the tension, which wasn’t even real to begin with.

"Hey, Hyunjin."

"Hm?"

"You seem happy. Something up?" Chan’s voice was soft, careful.

Hyunjin placed the coffee in front of Chan, who offered a grateful "Thank you" in return. He then sat down with his own cup. "Not much. I'm just happy I'll be free this week."

Something flickered across Chan’s face, too quick to even pin down. "Oh," he said, pausing, "From sessions?"

"Yes."

Hyunjin tapped his cigarette against the rim of an empty coffee cup nearby, ash crumbling down. Chan’s eyes followed the movement like a hawk.

The dancer frowned. Why did Chan appear anxious, almost angry, even?

"Is there something wrong, hyung?" He asked, taking another drag in.

"Ah, that…" Chan heaved out a sigh, seeming reluctant to say a word. "How did the last Sunday go?"

Hyunjin froze for a moment. Ah. That.

Was this really about Felix? Did Chan still think Hyunjin had gone too far? He remembered the warning, "If you make him cry, or harm him somehow, I swear…" but Chan wasn’t blind, was he? Felix had come unprepared. It was obvious he wasn’t ready for the session. He would’ve cracked no matter what. Hyunjin had even gone easy compared to before.

He exhaled the smoke slowly. "Are you upset about it?"

"About what?"

"That Felix was unwell, hyung."

Chan blinked. "Not necessarily, no."

"What’s the problem, then?"

Chan breathed out, taking a sip from his coffee. He immediately sat the cup down, grimacing at the taste. "Why is this so bitter? What the fuck?"

"You didn’t say how you wanted it," Hyunjin replied flatly. "Tell me what’s bothering you, hyung."

"I heard from Jisung that he wasn’t well after the practice," he said, his every word measured, slow. "He even said that he looked as if he was crying beforehand."

This was what Chan was upset by? That his little princess cried? Like Felix wasn’t in floods of tears 24/7, unprovoked.

"Are you blaming me for it?"

"That’s the thing. I don’t know what happened. Felix isn’t telling me anything. All I know is that he was unable to keep practicing because he was light-headed and sick."

"He was," Hyunjin admitted. "He was sick because he didn’t eat before."

Chan eyed him skeptically. "Are you sure?"

"Why would I lie, hyung?"

"I don’t know, Hyunjin. If that’s all that happened, why would he cry?"

Hyunjin took a long drag before shrugging. "Ask him. The fuck do I know."

Chan’s gaze sharpened then, becoming probing, as if he was searching his face for some lie.

"Hyunjin… You remember what I told you, right?" His voice dipped low. "That if you made him cry you would pay for it, one way or another?"

Hyunjin stared at him incredulously. "What?"

Chan’s eyes didn’t waver.

"Listen, Hyunjin. I tried, okay? I gave you a chance, but all you ever do is make things worse. I don’t know what you did to make him cry, but I do know that Felix wouldn’t have broken down if you weren’t there. If it were any of us, we wouldn’t have let him get so unwell that he was on the verge of passing out either. So tell me, honestly, how can I not blame you? Who else is to blame, then?"

This motherfucker.

This hypocritical piece of shit.

"Are you serious, hyung?" Hyunjin barked out a sharp laugh. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I hear myself just fine, Hyunjin. And I’m sorry to say this, but if you don’t get better, and if you continue to treat Felix this way, this will no longer just be a matter of the group. It will be something for the management, and they will decide the consequences, not me," Chan’s voice rose, no longer hiding his anger. "You just leave me with no choice. I’ll not stand by and watch you tear Felix apart and do nothing about it. This has affected the band, and I’m sick and tired of trying to resolve the issue which is not even mine to begin with."

Hyunjin looked at the leader, really looked, and right then, a vile, jagged thought ran through his mind.

I could ruin you.

Not with fists, not when he knew what Chan was capable of, of how outclassed he would be. No, he imagined something far more exquisite: leaking those recordings of Chan snapping at managers during their tours. Or casually mentioning to Dispatch about the leader's “prescription overdoses” during comeback season. Or better yet, letting slip of Chan’s true nature, of how manipulative he really was as he crafted his own persona in the industry and made a cult-like following by using his charm alone.

How easy it would be, really. One slip… Just one.

But that was not how Hyunjin worked. Too much at stake, too impulsive for the choice to be beneficial.

So he smiled instead.

"You’re right, hyung," Hyunjin said, his voice deceptively gentle. He discarded the remaining cigarette in the cup, pressing the butt with more pressure than necessary. "It’s not your issue, is it? How could it be, when all of you let Felix get this far, let him hit rock bottom, allowed him to puke his guts out… it’s all my fault, really. I should have known better."

Chan’s jaw twitched. "That’s not-"

"But it is," Hyunjin cut in, leaning forward. "You ignored every sign because it was easier than admitting he was falling apart. And now that he’s broken down, finally, you need someone to blame, so of course it’s me."

"Listen, Hyunjin, I understand-"

"No, you don’t, hyung!" Hyunjin’s voice rose then. "I did everything you asked me to. But we never agreed that I would become his babysitter, and a scapegoat, above all."

"A scapegoat? A scapegoat for what, Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin nearly lost his temper right there.

Was Chan really that slow? Or was he too deep in delusions to admit the obvious?

"Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t about Felix at all? That you’re just trying to escape your own guilt, so you’re putting all the blame on me?"

Chan glared at him. "How? Really, tell me, how is this about my guilt, all of a sudden? You’re the one who treats him like shit, and it’s my fault?"

Hyunjin huffed. "Oh, don't play stupid. You know exactly how." His gaze hardened then. "When was the last time you actually checked if he ate?"

"What? I check on him all the time!"

"You do? Not just, 'Oh, Felix-ah, you should eat!'. Do you ever make sure he doesn’t throw it up?"

Chan stilled in his seat.

"When he started disappearing after meals, too," Hyunjin continued, "Did you ever notice where he went? No? Too busy trying to find someone else to blame, I guess."

Chan’s hands curled into fists. "That’s not fair. I can’t control what he does all the time."

"Fair?" Hyunjin’s smile was razor-thin. "What’s not fair is you acting like you care now, when you had months to do something. But no. It was easier to pretend he was fine. Easier to let him rot until it became my problem."

A beat of silence passed. Chan sat there, his shoulders hunched, his gaze everywhere but on Hyunjin. He grabbed his cup then, latching on to it like it might ground him.

"How do you know about this?" The leader asked then, his voice low.

"About what? His eating disorder?"

"Yes."

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. "It’s obvious," he said, standing up to leave the room. He gave Chan a final nod. "If you decide to drag management into this, I’m not stopping you. But is it really easier to risk my career than to admit you’re at fault, too?"

"No, Hyunjin, that’s not what I meant! Listen-"

"I don’t care, hyung," he said, dismissing the leader. "Goodbye."

Hyunjin walked out of the room, ignoring Chan’s voice calling after him.

He needed to get out. Get out of this dorm. As soon as possible.

But, as he strode towards his bedroom, he nearly collided with someone lingering by the door.

Felix.

The guy froze for a second, eyes darting between Hyunjin and the room behind him. Whatever he’d heard, it was enough to put that wide, unsettled look on his face.

Good. Maybe now he knew.

Hyunjin arched a brow. "Are all of you here today? What’s the occasion?"

"It’s just me and-"

"Whatever. Go, Felix. Your leader is waiting."

Felix frowned, brow knitting, as if trying to read him. "No, Hyunjin, I-"

But Hyunjin was already gone, nowhere in sight.

═══════

"Jiwon-ssi?"

Hyunjin didn’t look up, his fingers tracing the rim of his empty cup, as if the dregs at the bottom held some unspoken truth.

"Jiwon-ssi? Hey!" The familiar voice came again, closer this time, and then a hand, larger than his own, gripped his shoulder and shook him. Hard.

He gazed up, ready to snap at whoever decided that touching a stranger would be a good idea, but the words died in his throat when he recognized the bartender’s face: Joon. The kid from before.

"Are you all right?" Joon asked, withdrawing his hand with a sheepish smile. "I’m sorry about that. Uh… you looked strange. I don’t normally shake people, I promise."

Hyunjin blinked, confused.

Why was Joon talking to him? After their last conversation, after Hyunjin had all but admitted he wasn’t in his right mind, why was the kid acting like nothing was wrong? Was he forgetful? Or was he delusional enough to believe that Hyunjin didn’t mean what he said?

"It’s fine," Hyunjin murmured. "Please, call me hyung."

Joon’s smile deepened, dimples pressing into his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah, of course. How are you, Jiwon-hyung?" he asked, eyeing him skeptically. "I’m sorry if this is direct, but you look off. Like you’re about to go ballistic right here on me."

Did he look that angry, really? Hyunjin chuckled. "Not ballistic, no."

Joon went back to making drinks for the other two people waiting at the table. "That’s good. How’s life, hyung?"

Hyunjin didn’t answer, opting to return the question instead. "How’s yours, Joon? How’s the university?"

It seemed like this was the right question to ask. Joon went on a long monologue, explaining his university life and how hard it was to balance the job and studying. Hyunjin half-listened, watching Joon work and serve others absentmindedly. It was a calming scene – Joon in his all-black uniform and buzz-cut, looking out of place in this dim and broken bar, talking as if nothing was wrong, as if he wasn’t scraping by in the most gruesome part of Seoul.

“…And now I’m thinking of changing jobs. Maybe I can become a dealer in a casino? They pay well, and it’s not that hard, to be honest. My friend works there," Joon admitted, polishing a glass. "One of my friends even said that I could become a model, can you imagine that, hyung?"

"You could."

Joon snorted, shaking his head. "I’m not that good-looking, but thank you. Coming from you, that means a lot."

Hyunjin chuckled. "You make me seem like I’m out of this world."

"For me, you kind of are." Joon said it so casually, like it was a simple fact. "Maybe because you’re the first idol I’ve seen."

"Probably," Hyunjin shrugged, sipping the fresh drink Joon had slid his way. "There are far prettier people than me. I work with one, actually."

"Oh?" Joon’s brows lifted. "Who?"

Hyunjin hesitated. Did he really want to show him? But then again, why did it matter? Joon wasn’t the type to exploit the information. And even if he did… well. It wasn’t like it would change anything.

He grabbed his phone, searching for images of Felix online.

"See?" He said, showing the guy the first picture that popped up in his feed.

Joon froze. His fingers stilled around the glass he was cleaning. "Oh."

Hyunjin nodded, pocketing his phone.

"He’s my colleague," he said, almost gritting the words through his teeth.

Joon looked at him, assessing. "You don’t like him?"

"No."

"Why?" Joon asked with a teasing glint in his gaze. "Jealous, hyung?"

"Jealous of what?"

"His looks. He looks like a doll."

"As if I give a shit."

Joon burst out laughing. "Then why don’t you like him? He doesn’t look like a bad person."

"He’s not. He’s a saint," Hyunjin responded, his voice flat. "A little angel, really."

The bartender eyed him then, looking perplexed. "What’s the issue, then?"

"I don’t want to talk about it."

The kid nodded, apologizing for being invasive. A silence settled between them, heavy with the thrum of the bass from the speakers in the background. Joon went back to wiping down the bar, his movements efficient and practiced, the clink of glasses providing a quiet distraction from the quiet murmurs from the other clients nearby. Hyunjin watched him, sipping his bitter drink. His thoughts drifted, unfocused, until Joon’s voice cut through the haze.

"Ever thought about letting off some steam, hyung?"

Hyunjin blinked. The question was so abrupt, so blunt, it took him a second to process. "Steam?"

Joon finally met his gaze, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. You know. Blow off some pressure. You look like you're carrying a whole building on your shoulders." He paused, then his eyes flickered, just for a second, to the corner near the restrooms. "Sex, I mean. Sometimes it helps."

"Oh."

In all honesty, Hyunjin hadn’t. He rarely had sexual urges, and when he did, he preferred to deal with it alone. Trusting someone else, letting them close enough to touch him, to know him, was too risky, not to mention unnecessary. Why would he risk his career for something so unimportant as sex?

And then there was Chan’s rule. No hookups with strangers. A policy the entire group followed without question. None of his bandmates hooked up with people they didn’t know, and he respected the rule just like everyone did.

"I haven’t, no," he admitted, voice low.

The kid leaned against the counter, watching him. "Don’t you want to try?"

Hyunjin contemplated the idea. Did he want to try it? On one hand, it would be a good way to relax, but on the other, too much would be at risk for just sex, which Hyunjin never sought out anyway.

But then he imagined the fury if Chan ever found out, and he smiled, nodding. "Maybe, yeah."

Joon chuckled, setting the sparkling glass down. "Are you into guys, hyung?”

"I don’t have a preference," he answered, which wasn’t a lie. He equally didn’t give a shit about all of them.

"Well, I’ll be free after my shift if you want. Or you can go for people in the bar. I doubt they would refuse."

Hyunjin stared at him. "Do you even like guys, kid?"

"Honestly?... no, I don’t. You’ll be my first." Joon laughed. "If you decide to have me, of course."

Hyunjin turned the offer over in his mind. Joon was the safest choice, logically. He already knew who Hyunjin was and hadn’t breathed a word. If he’d wanted to exploit it, he would have by now. And even if he decided to turn on him later, Hyunjin would make sure he would have no evidence to prove his claim. Which would be too easy, given the place they were in now.

He checked the cameras before. There were just two, and they barely seemed able to function, given how old they looked.

After a beat of hesitation, Hyunjin nodded, "Okay. I’ll wait."

Joon's smile flickered, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes, before he nodded and turned back to his work.

The remaining hour of his shift passed in a blur of clinking bottles and muted chatter. Joon worked as if nothing was off, as if he didn’t plan to have sex with a person he barely knew, who was an idol, to make matters worse. He was humming, serving the clients and complimenting them with the same charm he used on Hyunjin, showing off his easy confidence as an asset it was.

When Joon finally began to usher the few remaining clients out, Hyunjin felt a flicker of anticipation. Almost like adrenaline. The bar emptied quickly, leaving only the two of them in the dim, stale air. Joon locked the door, flipped the "Closed" sign, and he didn’t even give a warning before pressing Hyunjin up against the wall.

Hyunjin stopped him then, gripping him by the shoulder. "Are you sure?"

Joon nodded, his eyes hungry as his gaze traveled to Hyunjin’s lips. "Of course," he said, leaning to place a gentle kiss by the idol’s mouth. "You’re so beautiful. I want to try."

Hyunjin kissed him, going slow, gentle, which wasn’t at all what Joon had in mind, it seemed. The younger man was insistent, too eager, pressing his body into Hyunjin's like he wanted to merge them together. It was fast, hot, earnest in a way that was almost amusing. It was obvious Joon wasn’t as experienced as he made himself out to be.

A hand slid under Hyunjin’s shirt, calloused fingers grazing his ribs with a reverence that felt like a lie. Every touch was impossibly soft, as if Hyunjin were something sacred and not just another ugly soul walking by.

“Can I take this off, hyung?” Joon panted, his lips swollen and glistening.

Hyunjin lifted his arms, letting Joon strip the fabric away. The kid wasted no time peeling off his own shirt, too, and before Hyunjin could even take in the lean muscles of his torso, Joon’s mouth was on his neck, teeth scraping, sucking bruises into his skin like he was determined to brand him.

Interesting. Was this the kid’s kink?

Not that Hyunjin minded. He just never thought he’d be on the receiving end of such… worship, almost.

When Joon reached for Hyunjin’s belt, he looked at him, his eyes sheepish, embarrassed. “Um… I don’t know how to do this, but… I want to try giving you head? I can’t promise it will be good, but I’ve seen it done to guys before. And I’ve had it done too, but-”

“Sure,” Hyunjin cut in, voice soft. “I’m fine with whatever you want.”

Joon’s gaze lit up. “Oh, really? Can I fuck you, then?”

Hyunjin looked at him, analyzing. How desperate was this kid? He seemed like he would burst if Hyunjin said no.

Lucky for him, Hyunjin just wanted to get this over with. “Okay.”

Joon beamed, trailing kisses along his shoulder as he unbuckled Hyunjin’s belt. The movement created some distance between them, enough for Hyunjin to notice the growing bulge in Joon’s pants. The kid was rock hard.

He stared down at himself then, not surprised to find himself completely unresponsive.

“I’m glad you chose me,” Joon whispered, his voice hoarse. He slid to his knees, getting rid of Hyunjin’s pants and underwear in one go and taking him in his mouth, his movements so sure one would think he had practiced many times before.

And Hyunjin didn’t feel a thing.

The kid’s mouth felt good, tight around him, but other than that, there wasn’t anything notable about the experience. He was getting hard, sure, but it was almost like he was watching himself outside his own skin, reacting to Joon’s desperation with his body alone.

Was this all? Was this letting off steam, as Joon said? People actually found this stimulating?

He counted to five, taking breaths and trying to concentrate on the sensations: the wetness, the lewd, slurping noises Joon made, the warmth of his body pressing against him. But, as much as he tried, his mind couldn’t find pleasure in what his body deemed decent enough to react to.

His face almost dropped with disappointment.

It seemed like nothing would ever be enough. He couldn’t even find pleasure in the most basic, enjoyable experiences of humankind.

Hyunjin’s mind wandered as Joon worked. He thought about how he would deal with Chan without risking his own position in the group. Chan wasn’t someone who was stubborn enough to not apologize if he was wrong, and by the looks of it, he agreed with Hyunjin to some extent. But it would take time. Hyunjin would apologize if needed. He would be careful then, keeping his anger in check to not come off as unempathetic as he had before. What happened with Chan mere hours ago wouldn’t be detrimental if he bit his tongue and kept his head low.

He could fix this. It would take patience, for sure, but he could.

The bar’s neon sign flickered outside, painting Joon’s buzz cut in garish pink. He gazed down, and, for a moment, the light caught the curve of Joon’s cheekbone, the wrong angle, the wrong shade, and Hyunjin’s breath hitched.

Freckles. Golden hair. A gasp that wasn’t Joon’s.

Felix.

The image flashed, unbidden. Hyunjin’s grip on Joon’s shoulder tightened.

“Hyung?” Joon pulled back, pupils blown. “You okay?”

Hyunjin blinked. And just like that, the illusion was gone.

He couldn’t even react.

What...? What the fuck happened?

“Fine.” He gripped Joon harder, a silent demand. Continue.

Joon obeyed, going back to sucking him off, but Hyunjin couldn’t care less now. His thoughts snagged on the why. Why Felix? Was he attracted to him? When did his subconscious start to find his pitiful little bandmate sexually appealing?

Joon’s mouth moved on his cock, slower this time. Hyunjin looked down, saw the buzz cut, the sharp angles of the kid’s face, and then, horrifyingly, his mind shifted it.

The buzz-cut hair softened, grew longer, falling over a paler brow. The sharp jawline became impossibly delicate. The dark eyes, for a terrifying, blinding moment, were wide and filled with raw, soft vulnerability. Defenseless.

Angel.

And, shockingly for both of them, Hyunjin let out a loud, almost pained moan.

“Hyung?” Joon pulled away, uncertain.

“Don’t stop,” Hyunjin groaned, panting, his heartbeat racing at an unusual rate.

Joon resumed what he was doing, but his movements were unsure now, as if he was tasting Hyunjin’s reactions. Not that Hyunjin gave a damn.

Felix. Of all people.

The disgust came fast and thick, but not at the fantasy. At himself. At how his traitorous body responded like it had been waiting for this all along. Was this why he felt like he was on fire?

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He shut his eyes, focusing on the present: the stickiness of spilled liquor on the wall, Joon’s ragged breaths. This was real. Whatever glitch in his brain was, was it that serious? His subconscious was playing sick games with him, as it had many times before. This wasn’t something new.

A glitch.

Nothing more.

But as he came close to release, his mind stubbornly clung to an image of Felix, on his knees, right where Joon was, not even doing anything, not even sucking him off like Joon. Just staring up at him, his gaze vulnerable and open. Yearning, questioning, searching.

For what? Hyunjin wanted to ask. What the fuck do you want from me?

But he didn’t get the chance. As he came, he gasped out loud, “Angel,” he panted, his vision nearly blacking out from pleasure. “God, Angel.”

Chapter Text

“Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin didn’t react. His gaze remained locked on Felix, blank and unseeing. Across the room, Felix was half-hidden in the kitchen, his back turned as he hummed a cheerful tune and rummaged through the refrigerator. He’d only come to the dorm to pack for an upcoming trip but had abruptly decided to make Changbin a farewell meal, insisting that since he’d be gone for a week, he wanted to spend a bit more time with his hyung.

Why you? The thought, sharp and unbidden, echoed in Hyunjin's mind.

Why the fuck does it have to be you?

“Hyunjin? Hello?” Changbin’s voice, laced with concern, finally pierced through. He was watching from the kitchen table, brows knitted together.

Hyunjin blinked, the world snapping back into focus. He looked at Changbin, scowling. “What do you want?”

“Oh, finally! What is up with you today?”

“What,” Hyunjin repeated, his voice flat as he punctuated each word. “Do you want?”

His mood couldn’t have been worse. After what happened yesterday, after witnessing his own brain turn against him, he’d been nothing but sour, on edge, and profoundly confused. He didn’t understand what went wrong, why he'd reacted to the mere fantasy of Felix more than the real, tangible sensations Joon had created just for him.

Why now? And how?

He glanced at Felix once again, completely at a loss. What was so special about this person?

“Hyunjin, is everything alright?” Changbin asked, his tone gentle but firm.

Felix looked back, a slight frown on his features as his gaze flickered between his bandmates. “What’s wrong, hyung?”

“Don’t you see him? Look at him, Felix. He doesn’t even react to anything.”

Felix looked at him then, standing in the middle of the living room, frozen as a statue. “He’s lost in his head,” he said, chuckling.

“I can see that,” Changbin muttered. “Can you bring me my phone, Hyunjin? It’s right there on the table.”

Hyunjin’s eyes finally tore away from Felix, the movement slow and deliberate. He walked over to the table to pick up Changbin’s phone. But when he brought it to him, he didn’t walk away from the kitchen. He just stared at Felix as if he were a complex equation that refused to be solved.

Why? The question burned a hole in Hyunjin’s thoughts. Why you?

Was it because of Felix’s looks?

He let his eyes trace Felix's figure. Golden hair, now a little messy from leaning over the stove, fluffy and soft like it always was. Freckles on high cheekbones. The delicate curve of his neck as he tilted his head.

Yes, objectively, Felix was attractive.

But why did it matter?

Hyunjin never valued beauty. He’d seen countless good-looking people, even more beautiful than Felix was, yet none had ever sparked that violent, intrusive reaction from last night. But did that change? Did Hyunjin develop some type of unconscious desire overnight?

He looked at Felix’s eyes - wide, guileless, dark - but felt no particular pull. His gaze lingered on the graceful line of Felix’s neck, the soft expanse of skin, then moved to the short fingers chopping vegetables.

Nothing.

Not a flicker of conscious desire, no physical reaction beyond the mere awareness that yes, Felix was indeed beautiful. Angel-like, even.

And Hyunjin didn’t give a shit.

It wasn’t his beauty, then. It couldn’t be.

Was it his personality?

He ran through Felix’s traits: the sunshine persona, the social butterfly, the saccharine sweetness that made others flock to him. The angel that everyone adored. Someone who seemed too pure for this world.

Yet, to Hyunjin, these were precisely the traits he found most irritating. Felix was annoying. The same way Hyunjin couldn’t stand children, he couldn’t stand Felix either. He was dependent. Too sensitive, too easy to hurt. He required constant care and attention, which were the same traits that placed him in the category of people Hyunjin would never choose to be around.

No. Definitely not his personality.

He noted every conceivable quality that might draw a person in: kindness, intelligence, wit, charm, strength, vulnerability. He mentally ticked them off, applying them to Felix, then assessing his own response.

Nothing.

He felt nothing for any of them. No conscious pull, no desire to engage, no recognition of anything he might deem “attractive” in a conventional sense. Yet, the memory of last night, the overwhelming jolt, and then his body coming alive told a different story entirely. His body had betrayed him, reacting with an intensity he hadn't known himself capable of. And it had reacted to Felix.

Hyunjin stood frozen, watching the curve of Felix’s back as he cut vegetables. He was utterly at a loss.

What was so special about Felix?

"Hyunjin, are you okay, seriously? What’s wrong?" Changbin’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Hyunjin blinked. "Fine.”

Changbin sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "You sure? You've been staring at Bokkie like you're possessed since you walked in. Did you guys have a fight or something?”

Felix looked up then, startled. “What do you mean?”

“It seems like you fought, no?”

“No, we didn’t,” Felix answered, his eyes seeking Hyunjin’s, silently asking, What’s wrong with you?

He never stopped cutting the vegetables, holding the knife more loosely than before, and, inevitably…

Snap.

Felix drew back with a hiss and dropped the knife on the counter.

Changbin immediately stood up, crossing the kitchen to grasp Felix’s hand. “What’s wrong? Did you cut your finger?”

He turned his palm over, and there was a cut, not severe, but bleeding nonetheless, blooming red on Felix’s fingertip.

“Aish,” the older man tutted, his mouth a tight line. “You need to be careful, Yongbok.”

He guided Felix’s hand under the stream of cold water. “Stay here. I’m getting the kit.”

“Okay, hyung.”

With a reassuring pat to Felix’s shoulder, Changbin hurried out of the room.

And Hyunjin stood there, frozen, looking at Felix with shock.

Because he flinched.

When Felix jerked back, so did he, as if they both experienced the same thing.

It wasn't a conscious decision, no thought preceded it. The flash of red, the subtle shift in Felix's breathing, the sound, and it all hit Hyunjin like a blow. His body reacted faster than his mind did.

His eyes, wide and bewildered, locked onto Felix's wounded finger.

What the fuck?

“What’s wrong with you?” Felix asked, his brows furrowed with confusion. “Are you alright?”

Hyunjin didn’t answer. He simply stared, all the questions resurfacing in his head.

Why? How? And why you, out of all people?

Changbin returned to the kitchen, first-aid kit in hand, his worried gaze flicking between Felix’s finger and Hyunjin’s utterly blank expression. He shook his head, mumbling something about Hyunjin being "on another planet," but he didn't press. He gently took Felix’s hand again, dabbing the small wound with antiseptic, Felix wincing softly at the sting.

This time, Hyunjin only watched. He observed every detail, like the careful dab of the cloth, the way Felix’s lips pressed together, the tension in his shoulders. He was too consciously aware now for his body to react again, fortunately.

But the memory of that unconscious flinch was enough. He knew what it was.

It couldn’t be more obvious.

Sympathy.

He’d seen it a thousand times. A friend stubs a toe, another gasps; an actor on screen is shot, and the audience jolts. He understood the concept of it, but he never experienced it himself. Because, biologically, his body was incapable of such a thing. His mirror neurons, the part of his brain responsible for that connection, were, admittedly, dead.

But somehow, his mind had reacted to Felix.

How have I never noticed this before?

“Jinnie?” Changbin’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Can you grab me a bandaid? It’s in the living room, in the drawers somewhere by the TV.”

Hyunjin exhaled, dragging his eyes from the scene before he walked out of the room.

He dug through the drawers absently, his mind flooded with unanswerable questions. He glanced back at Felix, his gaze now not just confused, but full of intrigue.

What makes you so special?

═══════

It was driving him insane.

While Felix was gone, abroad, far, far away from where Hyunjin was, probably relaxing and enjoying his time modeling, Hyunjin was slowly losing his mind.

It began with confusion, but soon it spiraled into something darker, something even his bandmates noticed. At first, he was just distracted at rehearsals, not reacting when managers or instructors called his name. Then it became worse. Self-destruction.

He couldn’t sleep.

At night, he lay there, wide awake, replaying every interaction, every word exchanged, every gesture Felix had ever made. He pulled up old practice videos, dissecting Felix's movements, his micro-expressions, pausing, rewinding, frame by agonizing frame. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to, because he just wanted to know why.

It seemed like a puzzle. And it was, really. A puzzle which, the more he researched, the more disturbing it became.

Hyunjin knew that he was mentally ill. He knew that a part of his brain was dead. He wasn’t stupid, for God’s sake. That was why he never felt any empathy, remorse, or even a sliver of emotions others felt. His mirror neurons were frozen, and no amount of pretending had ever activated them.

And yet, Felix’s pain had sparked a reaction in him. Not only that, but the mere fantasy of Felix had been so intense that it had sent him over the edge. It had made him feel alive.

Sexual pleasure alone was never stimulating for Hyunjin. It had always been a chore, something that his body needed to do because of biological needs. It was no more meaningful than brushing his teeth in the morning.

Actually, he couldn’t even list things that stimulated him. Painting, dancing, performing – those were the only distractions that worked, but they were mere distractions, not something that evoked a feeling, a reaction.

That was why his mind was in a constant vacuum. There was nothing in the world that actually entertained him.

But suddenly, it turned out that he was wrong.

He wasn’t in a vacuum. Not really.

Something had awakened him. Not something. Someone.

Felix.

And Hyunjin had never been more confused.

Why him? What made him so different? Or had Hyunjin misjudged his own mind all this time? Was he actually a healthy human being?

The others noticed. It was hard not to. All of them were preparing for the tour, and here Hyunjin was, barely conscious of what was happening around him.

"…You look like you haven't slept in a week," Minho remarked one morning, eyeing the dark shade under Hyunjin's eyes over breakfast. "Are you okay? Is there something bothering you?”

Hyunjin merely grunted, pushing around the untouched food on his plate. His appetite had vanished. He just needed to understand. "Fine, hyung."

“Don’t lie to me,” Minho insisted, his voice softening with concern. “You look sick, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin didn’t answer, letting out an exhale before standing from his seat.

“Don’t worry about it. See you later,” he replied, not even glancing back as he left the room, ignoring Minho’s calls after him.

The younger members stared at him like they expected him to collapse any second. Jisung, who was usually so loud, had gone quiet, speaking only when Hyunjin spoke first. Chan kept his distance too, though Hyunjin often caught him staring, guilt written across his face, as if he blamed himself for Hyunjin’s distress. Maybe he should, really. Hyunjin hadn’t forgotten his hypocrisy, and Chan hadn’t apologized, either.

But Hyunjin cared little for their concern or their guilt. He just needed answers.

He locked himself away, spent hours in his room, in complete silence as he ran through memory after memory.

If Felix was truly stimulating his unresponsive neurons, then it meant, in some twisted, fundamental way, Hyunjin was able to react and feel a reflection of what Felix felt at that moment.

But did he?

He began to dig through his mind.

He began with the flinch. It was the latest, clearest bit of memory he had with Felix. He replayed it, assessing it from every angle possible. And, yes, in that moment, his body reacted to Felix’s pain like it was his own.

It was undeniable.

Had anything like that ever happened before? He thought through countless memories of bandmates, friends, even strangers, getting hurt. Like when Minho injured himself during practice. Chan burning himself on the stove. Changbin slamming his finger in a door. Each memory was clear. And each time, Hyunjin remembered himself just standing there, not doing a thing. He had never flinched. Never felt that bizarre, internal jolt he did with Felix.

Did he react to Felix’s emotions, too?

He tried to recall times when Felix showed happiness, frustration, annoyance. But he couldn’t recall any of them. But somehow, he could remember Felix crying like it happened yesterday. And he remembered his own reactions too, just as clearly.

He always lashed out.

He always shouted, not out of anger alone but out of desperation, just to make Felix stop. To make him shut up or leave him alone. Felix’s cries grated him more than anything else did. He had never reacted like that to anyone else, not even children.

He always thought that it was because he didn’t like the guy, but was he just overstimulated? Was this why he hated being around Felix before?

How could he have been so blind?

He dug through the internet then, trying to find more clues. He watched countless videos. Most of them were a waste of time, but some of them were interesting, not because they showed clear evidence of Hyunjin actually feeling the same emotions Felix did, but they showed him mirroring Felix’s gestures.

He found an old vlog from an awards show. Felix was bouncing with excitement, hands clasped. In the corner of the frame, Hyunjin stood with arms crossed, but his fingers were tapping his bicep in the exact same rhythm.

There was one at a stage. Felix, overwhelmed, looked at the shining flashlights and pressed his lips together, trying not to cry. A few feet away, Hyunjin, mid-choreography, subtly pursed his own lips too, and then he continued to dance like nothing unusual had happened.

The video of a recent interview was even more confusing. Felix was asked an uncomfortable question, so he fidgeted and scratched the back of his neck. Moments later, Hyunjin, down the line, unconsciously made the same gesture.

It was terrifying.

The more he searched, the more these small, almost invisible examples surfaced. A video showing them both sighing at nearly the same time. An identical, subtle shift of weight when a difficult topic came up. Both of them frowning when Felix was reluctant to leave the stage.

He stared at the screen, the fragmented clips playing on repeat, the pieces of the puzzle slowly, terrifyingly, aligning.

He was reflecting Felix’s emotions. He was responding.

Felix was reaching the part of his brain that he thought was dead.

But It didn’t make any sense.

He read countless articles about his condition, and he lived with one unshakable truth: his mind was a vacuum he could never escape. That he had no chance of actually stimulating himself like others easily could.

But he was reacting to Felix. And for the first time, Hyunjin’s entire reality was in question.

But was it really Felix? Or had something changed in his brain? 

Was he even an antisocial to begin with?

In the middle of all that confusion, something else stirred in him.

Hope.

Could he actually feel now? Could he actually live like this?

He dragged his fingers through his hair, staring down at the table as if it held the answer.

Could he?

═══════

It had to be Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

It was the only logical explanation. The intrusive thoughts, the compulsive need to replay interactions, the rigid adherence to patterns… it all fit the narrative. The obsession he’d displayed over the last few days, tearing apart his own psyche to find what the fuck was wrong with him, hinted at nothing else.

Nothing that made sense, at least.

He spent the entire day scouring the internet, fully confident he had solved the puzzle. But the theory disintegrated the deeper he went. Because the symptoms fit, but only on the surface. For him to actually have OCD, he should experience some type of anxiety and a fear of consequences, a terror if his compulsions weren’t satisfied.

Hyunjin had never experienced such a thing. He undoubtedly had compulsions, but they didn’t evoke fear. He just wanted to find out what caused the glitch.

He closed the tab, frustration tightening his chest.

He started searching from zero the day after. He was looking for anything but his ASPD diagnosis. Because if he was experiencing sympathy, if he was feeling on behalf of another person, that directly contradicted his antisocial nature, didn't it? Maybe he wasn’t antisocial at all. Maybe he was wrong.

Limerence. Hyperfixation. Mirroring in Autism Spectrum Disorder.

He spent another twenty-four hours on his computer, testing every label on him. But nothing stuck. They all implied an excess of emotion, feeling so much that it would justify his obsession. But all Hyunjin felt was a jolt, and scraps of sympathy. Excess of an emotion was a bit of an exaggeration.

He shut the laptop, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes until stars burst behind his lids. He wanted to throw the wretched thing against the wall.

Another day went with no success. He couldn’t find a single answer that could actually explain his condition. Most articles painted him as a healthy person with severe social anxiety who had finally found a ‘safe person.’ He scoffed at the screen. Others were more respectable, at least, pointing toward Schizoid Personality Disorder, which was characterized by detachment and limited emotions.

It was the more likely option, but even Schizoids weren't as emotionally incapable as Hyunjin knew himself to be.

He lay in the dark, his body on the verge of shutting down from exhaustion, staring at the ceiling like it had all the answers. He was close to just giving up. Accepting that the anomaly with Felix was just that… an anomaly. A thing with no explanation. Magic.

That sounded so fucking absurd he couldn't help but laugh. 

Yeah, magic. Maybe Felix was a fairy, who knew.

But now at least he knew that the problem was Felix-specific. It wasn't him. His condition never changed, Felix was just somehow bypassing his dead cells and activating them.

He still had ASPD.

He sighed, almost as if disappointed.

Hyunjin sat up then, the sheets pooling around his waist. He grabbed the laptop again, the screen’s blue light harsh in the darkness. He didn't search for a new disorder this time. He searched for a loophole in his own.

He typed: selective empathy, ASPD, and pressed enter.

At first, there was nothing he could find. The articles were so generic and sentimental that it was laughable, almost. "10 Signs You're Dating a Narcissist." "How to Know if You're a Psychopath."

He tried again, but he tried to make the search more specific: ASPD emotional capacity. He spent an hour on the internet trying to reach for an answer, but there was nothing there but the same explanation. Again and again.

"Individuals with Antisocial Personality Disorder exhibit diminished empathy, particularly due to..."

He deleted the tab on his computer, inhaling sharply, all of it getting on his nerves.

What a waste of time.

He shut the laptop, forcing himself to go to sleep. Because it was just pointless, wasn't it? Maybe he should contact a professional. If he couldn't find an answer soon enough, he would have no other choice left.

But as he woke up that day, he immediately went to his laptop. He tried to make his search even more specific this time, and typed in: Mirror neuron activation, ASPD, and began probing through the internet again.

He scrolled past the broad summaries, digging into the PDFs of small, overlooked studies. He read through dense paragraphs of academic jargon, searching for keywords. Activation. Stimuli.

And then, in a footnote of a study on neurological responses to pain, he found a term he hadn't seen before.

Specific Affective Resonance.

He immediately copied the term into the search bar, adding antisocial personality disorder, and hit enter.

The results were sparse, but they were there. He clicked the first link.

“... while individuals with antisocial traits often display chronically inactive mirror neuron systems, recent studies suggest that under certain conditions, these neurons can be activated. Some reports show that antisocial people can experience Specific Affective Resonance (SAR – emotional synchrony between people), but only under right triggers.

For example, reports note that people with antisocial tendencies often remain unmoved by general suffering, yet show a response when exposed to someone whose sensory cues, for example: a voice tone, a rare microexpression, or even a scent, align with their neurological frequency. Studies also show that when asked to consciously imagine another’s pain, otherwise blunted individuals can, in some cases, activate regions tied to empathy.

These findings suggest empathy in antisocial individuals is not entirely missing, but highly selective. They are capable of switching on their emotions only under precise triggers or deliberate effort.”

Hyunjin raised a brow.

His eyes scanned the words, over and over again, comparing one article to another, and, indeed, they claimed one thing.

It was scientifically possible. It was an actual thing.

Hyunjin let out a sharp laugh. The sound was humorless, almost pained.

This was it?

He was mirroring Felix’s gestures and his emotions because what, his mind was reacting to Felix’s biology? His sensory cues like his voice and his scent?

How ridiculous… what were the chances? Out of billions of people, out of all the noise and chaos of the world, this annoying kid was so biologically compatible with him that he was able to stimulate his dead cells?

It was infuriating. Disturbing, really. It was also, undeniably, the answer.

Was this why he imagined Felix when he was with Joon? Because his mind was desperate, clinging to the memory of the only person who could stimulate him?

How was this even real?

“What are you doing?”

Hyunjin jolted. He hadn’t heard Changbin enter. The older man stood in the doorway, a drink in his hand, his expression a mix of caution and concern.

“Nothing,” Hyunjin muttered, turning back to the page on his laptop, rereading the same lines as if they might reveal something new.

Changbin stepped inside and sat on the edge of the bed. He didn’t glance at the screen; his gaze stayed fixed on Hyunjin.

“You say ‘nothing’ a lot these days, Jinnie,” he said quietly. “I have never seen you like this. What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I’m just tired, hyung.”

“Is that all?” Changbin’s voice sharpened. “You expect me to believe that? Why is it impossible for you to just open up? What do you think we’ll do, laugh at you?”

Hyunjin arched a brow. Laugh at him? What was this, high school?

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Changbin huffed, his annoyance visible. “You never do,” he retorted, but after a beat of hesitation, he added with a softer tone, “Just take care of yourself, okay? I’m worried about you. Everyone is.”

Hyunjin dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Of course. Don’t worry about it.”

Silence settled between them. Hyunjin got back to reading the article while Changbin sat there with a mug in his hand, not saying a word while he sipped his drink and stared off blankly into space. It was one of Changbin’s habits – he never left people alone when he thought they were in need. He was the last person to leave the room if any of his bandmates got injured or sick.

Hyunjin broke the silence soon after. A question that had been buzzing under his skin all night finally escaped him before he could even realize he had spoken. “Is Felix back?”

“What?”

“Is Felix back, hyung?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

Hyunjin shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Wasn’t he supposed to be back today?”

“I don’t remember. Want me to ask Seungmin?”

“Sure.”

Changbin pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen. A few moments passed with the soft clicks of keys. Hyunjin waited, heartbeat quickening with every second.

“He’s arriving in about three hours,” Changbin finally said, looking up with a faint smile. He pocketed his phone, studying Hyunjin curiously. “Why do you care all of a sudden? Did I miss something?”

Hyunjin let out a noncommittal grunt. “He’s been gone for a while. I was just curious.”

His gaze drifted back to the screen. His mind, however, was already racing with possibilities.

Felix was able to stimulate him. For whatever bizarre biological lottery he’d won, Felix’s cues worked on Hyunjin’s brain. That had to be the truth. What else could explain it?

But he needed proof. He didn’t have enough clear memory to prove his claim. He had to test it out first.

Hyunjin smiled faintly.

Poor guy.

═══════

“You aren’t turning fast enough,” Hyunjin said, sitting on the floor with his back against the mirror as he watched Felix dance. His voice was flat, almost bored, but inside he was anything but.

He was excited.

He watched as Felix’s chest heaved, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. The guy was soaked, the collar of his thin shirt entirely covered by sweat. They had been at this for over an hour, drilling the same complex sequence without a single break. Hyunjin had been unrelenting, as he usually was, but this time, he was unfair, too.

He didn’t give Felix a break. He didn’t even give him time to breathe. He pointed out every imperfection like it was a fatal flaw. Like it was something that needed an immediate fix.

He wanted to push Felix, get him to his breaking point, and if Hyunjin actually felt anything, it would confirm his theory. Change everything, really.

He could see how Felix was looking at him, like he wanted his head on a silver platter. He glared, he gritted his teeth, but he never stopped. He seemed to take it as a challenge, a test of endurance, of sorts. A chance to prove Hyunjin wrong.

How convenient.

“Again,” Hyunjin ordered, unmoving. “From the top.”

Felix let out a sound caught between a gasp and a groan. He braced his hands on his knees, steadying himself, but, finally, after taking nearly a ten-second break, straightened and began again without complaint.

Hyunjin could barely contain a smile.

“It’s better. But you’re holding your breath. Control it, or you'll burn out even faster.”

“Shut up,” Felix hissed.

“Is that how you speak to your mentor, Felix?” Hyunjin clicked his tongue. “Again. Focus your energy, or we will be here all day.”

Hyunjin could see Felix’s jaw clench, appearing ready to snap at him, but he didn’t, thankfully. He continued dancing, repeating the same counts as before, even if his limbs looked about ready to crumble on the floor.

Felix continued dancing for what seemed like eternity, but finally the clock ticked past two hours. He glanced at the door then, about ready to escape, but Hyunjin cut him off.

“We aren’t finished.”

“What?”

“Your progress was lost this week,” Hyunjin said simply.

He could see how Felix took a breath in, trying to control his anger.

“The session is only two hours long,” Felix spat, his fists clenching.

“And you want to improve, don’t you? What will you do on stage if two hours is all you can endure?”

Felix looked about ready to explode. “Shut the fuck up!”

Hyunjin smiled at him, unwavering.

“I’m just being honest, Felix. You don’t have enough time before tour,” he said, his voice soft, gentle. “You need practice.”

And, surprisingly, after a long period of silence that was only filled with Felix’s desperate pants, Felix nodded, determined.

Hyunjin might have underestimated his stubbornness, really. Felix kept going, even when his arms started to lag behind and his steps lost sharpness. He was drenched, each movement dragging sweat across his shirt, but he refused to stop. Every correction Hyunjin gave was met with narrowed eyes and a set jaw, his stubbornness burning hotter than his exhaustion.

But little by little, it started to slip. His spins turned slower, his landings heavier. He clenched his fists between counts as if sheer willpower could hold his body together, forcing himself to restart without waiting for Hyunjin’s command. For a while, it almost worked.

Almost.

But he started missing beats then. His legs shook when he pushed off too hard, his balance wavering. Every word Hyunjin said seemed to weigh him down further, pressing into the cracks already forming. Felix pushed, and pushed, and pushed again, until pushing meant stumbling forward instead of dancing.

He was on the verge of breaking, finally.

“Choose another song,” Hyunjin said calmly, still seated on the floor.

Felix didn’t answer. He stood frozen in the middle of the studio, unable to move.

“Choose another song, Felix.”

And then, finally, Felix gave up.

He staggered back a step, then another, his legs giving out beneath him. He didn’t make it to the mirror, didn’t even brace himself. He simply slid down the wall, an utterly defeated heap on the floor, his head bowed, shoulders shaking. He wasn't listening anymore. He didn’t look like he was able to. His body had shut down.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Hyunjin sighed, faking frustration.

Felix met his eyes in the mirror then, his lip trembling.

Finally.

“I can’t,” Felix answered, trying to sound firm, but his voice was barely a whisper.

“Come again?”

“I can’t! Leave me alone!” His voice cracked, half-yell, half-plea. He buried his face in his palms, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon.

Hyunjin watched him, almost thrilled. This was it. He remembered the last time, in this very room, how Felix had all but sobbed when Hyunjin had merely raised his voice. It was obvious that he couldn’t handle confrontation well, not when he was already on edge. His raw, unfiltered reactions… Hyunjin wanted to see them again. To recreate them. To confirm.

Hyunjin slowly pushed himself up from the floor, taking a step towards Felix, his shadow falling over his bandmate. He watched Felix's eyes widen, his body tensing, sensing the impending escalation.

This was the moment.

Felix just needed one more push.

“You can’t even do this properly? What can you do, then?” Hyunjin’s voice cut sharp, rising. “Get up! How are you so weak, Felix?!”

Felix stared at him, his face draining of all color. His lower lip wobbled, the fire in his eyes rapidly draining by a wave of crushing pain and humiliation. And then a small, broken sound, like a strangled whimper, escaped him.

And finally, tears began to fall down his cheeks.

And there it was.

A jolt. Sharp and electric, like a live wire touched to the base of Hyunjin’s spine. It could easily be mistaken for anger, by how overwhelming it felt. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t even pain. It was resonance. Overstimulation, even. Because at that moment, Hyunjin could feel all that Felix felt. Humiliation, anger, frustration. All of it.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, just for a fraction of a second, his composure cracking.

He immediately wanted Felix to stop crying.

Hypothesis confirmed.

A smile, almost sinister in its nature, appeared on his face.

“We’re done for today,” he said, voice calm again, as if nothing had happened. “You can’t go on like this. Do you want me to take you home?”

Felix’s head snapped up, hands dropping from his tear-streaked face. His eyes blazed, raw and furious. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near me,” he spat, voice low and venomous. “Go away, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, unfazed, his smile unwavering. “Are you sure?”

“Get out! I don’t need your fucking pity!”

Hyunjin let out a sigh, walking out of the room, leaving Felix collapsed on the floor, breathing in ragged, shattered gasps. The door clicked shut behind him, the sound echoing in the silent, tense room.

Alone in the hallway, Hyunjin leaned against the wall, finally allowing his own hand to tremble slightly. He stared at it, fascinated.

Poor guy, he thought again.

But this time, he couldn’t stop the smile stretching his lips.

You have no idea what you just gave me.

Chapter Text

“How was Paris, Felix-ah?”

Felix looked up from his phone, meeting Chan’s gaze. The leader stood over him in his usual all-black clothes, hair disheveled, face bare of makeup. He looked like he’d come straight to rehearsal the moment he woke up.

“It was good,” Felix said softly, patting the empty seat beside him. “Sit, hyung.”

Chan nodded and sank down with a quiet sigh. His posture was heavy, shoulders slumped, gaze distant.

Felix acted like he didn’t notice the tension. He went on, describing his time in Paris and all the places he’d visited. He even showed Chan, scrolling through his camera roll before turning the screen toward him. “Look, this was right before the show. The lights in that city are so pretty. Makes everything feel soft, you know?” He swiped to a shot of himself mid-walk, caught in a streak of warm light. “That’s me… I asked Choi-nim to take a couple of pictures. He’s very good, actually. I didn’t expect that.”

Chan’s eyes lingered on the photo, but he didn’t really seem to be seeing it. He offered a weak hum of acknowledgment, his fingers tracing the ridges of his water bottle.

“I saw your walk,” he said at last, his voice low. “It was really good. You looked… great.”

He sounded distracted. Nothing like the bright, proud tone he usually had when talking about his members’ achievements.

“Thanks,” Felix replied cautiously, locking his phone. “But… are you okay? You seem drained.”

Chan’s gaze flickered up, then away. He twisted his water bottle cap on and off without drinking. “Um… kind of, yeah. I… I-”

“Hyung?”

Chan smiled, but Felix could tell it wasn’t real. “I’m sorry, Yongbok.”

Felix couldn't help but frown.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Channie-hyung.”

“I do, really,” Chan mumbled, looking down at his hands. “I’ve recently come to realize that I do. You deserve… You deserve better.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Chan looked at him with a guilt-ridden, awkward smile. “You trusted me… You trusted us to help you. And… I failed you, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I know you don’t really want to hear it, but it’s been bugging me for a while now. Sorry for ruining the mood.”

Oh.

Was this what that monster had said that day? Felix could barely contain a scowl.

He remembered the shock when he’d overheard their conversation. Hyunjin had looked about ready to pounce, saying something about someone - which Felix later realized was obviously him - missing meals while everyone pretended it was fine. Felix had been caught off guard by how… caring Hyunjin sounded then, as if he actually gave a damn about Felix’s health. But then he’d heard, “...It was easier to pretend he was fine. Easier to let him rot until it became my problem,” and he was instantly disillusioned.

Hyunjin was just saving his own neck, like he always did.

As disappointing the realization was, Felix almost felt… seen that day. He hadn’t realized Hyunjin cared enough to notice anything about him, much less his struggles. It almost made him see Hyunjin in a different light.

But that narcissistic prick always knew how to crush his hopes to the ground.

“Hyung,” Felix began, frustration clear on his face. “You shouldn’t be sorry, okay? I don’t care about what that asshole said. He was just putting all the blame on you to save himself. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Chan’s grip on his bottle tightened. “But he was right. And please, stop calling Hyunjin an asshole.”

“Oh? Should I call him a demon instead? Because that’s what he is.”

“Felix,” Chan said, his voice low. A warning.

“He is, hyung! Stop defending him!”

“I’m not defending him, Lix. I just want you two to get along. That’s all I want.”

Felix exhaled sharply. “Whatever. Just… stop blaming yourself. Don’t let him mess with your head. None of this is your fault.”

Chan fidgeted in his seat, appearing uncomfortable.

Silence stretched between them, and when Chan spoke again, his voice was so soft one would think he was talking about something sacred. A promise.

“I…” Chan began quietly. “I care about you a lot. And I’m learning… It’s not easy, but I’m trying my best. And I’ll try to be better in the future. A better hyung.”

Felix rested his hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to, Chris. You already take care of so much… Your support is enough for me.”

Chan let out a breathy chuckle, eyes still downcast. “Thank you. Really.” He stood, sighing. “I have to go. See you later, yeah?”

“Okay,” Felix murmured. “Please, hyung, don’t blame yourself.”

“I’ll try. Thanks, baby.”

And just like that, Chan was gone.

Felix sank back into his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The more he thought about it, the more it got under his skin. It was unfair. So completely and utterly unfair. Chan already carried the weight of the world, and now was buckling under a burden that Hyunjin had placed on him. Chan never deserved any of it.

Hyunjin was the one who should have apologized, not him.

He looked out at the open stage then. The large space wasn’t lit yet, but the morning light was enough. It was a pre-tour stage rehearsal, so the atmosphere was busier and louder than usual. Crew members moved around, murmuring into headsets, checking mic placements, and adjusting the vast, complex machinery that made the tour possible.

And there, at the very edge of the stage, sat Hyunjin. His legs dangled over the edge, his hair messier than usual. And when Felix looked at him, he was, shockingly, already looking back, utterly unfazed as he drank from a soda can.

Felix could barely contain a scowl.

“Cunt,” he muttered in English, the word barely audible.

Hyunjin’s brow furrowed slightly. He pulled the can from his lips and cupped his ear as if to say, I didn’t catch that.

Felix’s restraint snapped in half.

“You’re a fucking cunt!” he shouted, voice loud enough to cut across the space.

Hyunjin didn’t even blink at the insult. He just gave him a thumb-up, a small smile playing on his lips, as if this was all a joke.

Felix’s vision darkened with fury.

“Did you just call Hyunjin a cunt?”

Felix jolted. Jisung was suddenly beside him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah.”

Jisung plopped down next to him. “So Chan’s plan isn’t working, huh?”

“If Hyunjin were actually a good person, it would.”

Jisung huffed. “Oh, come on.”

Felix’s jaw twitched. Why was everyone defending Hyunjin all of a sudden?

“Didn’t you say you would be late?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“I was, yeah,” Jisung said with a shrug. “But Inah practically dragged me here. Said that Jiho-hyung was calling for me, but I asked him and he had no idea.”

Felix snorted. “Where is Innie, then?”

The conversation continued, Jisung doing most of the talking while Felix listened absently, his eyes wandering over the stage. He deliberately avoided looking anywhere near Hyunjin, who remained sitting on the edge, alone. But it was only a matter of time before the dancer caught his attention.

A staff member approached him, talking to him about something that, at first glance, seemed serious. She spoke with a furrowed brow, gesturing toward a section of the stage with a sense of urgency. Hyunjin listened, his expression neutral, giving nothing away.

Felix couldn’t hear what they were saying. But the conversation ended soon enough. Hyunjin said something in return, nodded politely, and he was left alone.

And, almost immediately, their eyes met once again.

Felix wrenched his gaze away, heart thumping against his ribs as if he were caught on a crime scene. 

He turned back to Jisung, forcing himself to focus on what he was saying. “…So, I started this anime. It’s something about demons and swords, I don’t really remember. But I don’t know if I should keep watching. Is it worth it?”

“What?”

“The anime! Demon-something!”

“Oh. Are you talking about Demon Slayer?”

“Yeah, maybe? I don’t remember. It was trending, so I watched the first episode. But… I don’t know. Seems boring.”

Felix smiled faintly. “It’s really good.”

“Oh, cool. Do you know if-”

Before Jisung could finish, a voice materialized directly behind Felix’s ear, low and intimate. The sudden closeness sent a jolt through him, making him flinch so hard he nearly leaped from his seat.

“You have a bug in your hair.”

Felix froze. Then his hands flew to his head, patting and combing through his strands frantically. His fingers brushed against something small, hard, and unmistakably alive. A sharp hiss escaped his lips as he violently swatted the spot, his heart racing.

He heard someone laugh behind him, then. He whirled around, face burning with a mix of disgust and anger, only to see Hyunjin’s back already turned, casually strolling toward the vending machines as if he’d merely commented on the weather.

“Asshole,” Felix spat under his breath. He turned back to Jisung, who was trying his best not to laugh.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Felix hissed, his voice full of betrayal.

“It wasn’t even doing anything! Why would I tell you? You looked cute!”

But Felix wasn’t having any of it. He looked back toward where Hyunjin had been, ready to cuss him out, but the dancer was already gone, nowhere to be found.

═══════

Something changed.

The tour was going better than expected. Smoother than the last, at least, less chaotic. Fans greeted them everywhere with such overwhelming enthusiasm that Felix could hardly believe it was real. He was in his element, performing, surrounded by the people he cherished most.

He skipped meals more often, yes, but his bandmates were too wrapped up in themselves to notice. Except for Chan, who was trying to keep his promise. He tried to keep him under watch, but the weight of his own responsibilities was too much for one person to carry. So, eventually, something had to give.

Felix felt… happy, almost. Free.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Felix experienced a sliver of control, or as close to it as he could get with others nearby. He could move through his days without constant surveillance. He could actually breathe.

Or so he thought.

The illusion shattered one morning in a Berlin hotel. Most of the members were having breakfast, but Felix lingered in his room long enough to appear late, hoping others would leave him alone. When he finally went down to the lounge, it was nearly empty, though he noticed members and some staff sitting at tables, chatting as they ate their food.

Felix moved quietly, keeping his steps soft, a practiced smile on his face as he walked toward the service counter. He just needed something quick to grab and go. A banana caught his eye, and it would do. All he had to do was slip away before anyone saw he’d skipped a proper meal.

But, as always, someone noticed him.

"Hyung! Over here!" Jeongin called out, waving Felix over to where he, Seungmin, and Changbin were discussing something over a plate of fries.

"Hey, Innie," Felix said, offering a weak smile and a wave. He didn’t stop, and thankfully, Jeongin didn’t press either. He went back to talking with Seungmin, too engrossed in their conversation to notice anything wrong.

Felix hurried to the counter and quickly grabbed a banana. Just as he thought he’d made it and could quietly retreat to his room, he noticed someone watching him. And his breath hitched instantly.

Hyunjin.

Tucked into a plush armchair in a quiet corner, Hyunjin sat alone. His elbow was resting on the arm of the chair, his chin propped on his palm. And he was watching Felix.

Hyunjin’s expression was calm, almost pensive. He didn’t look away when their eyes met. His gaze flicked briefly to the banana in Felix’s hand, then back to his face. He arched a single brow before he turned his attention back to his phone, as if nothing had happened.

But Felix knew Hyunjin was aware. It was painfully clear in his body language alone.

A cold dread settled over him, the banana suddenly heavy in his hand. Without thinking, Felix turned and hurried out of the lounge, his steps quick, as if someone were chasing him.

"Lix, you leaving?" Changbin called from behind.

Felix didn’t answer. He pushed through the heavy door into the empty hallway, his heart racing. When he was finally alone, he couldn’t shake the fear of what Hyunjin might do, now that he’d noticed Felix relapsing. Would he tell the others? Would that ten-second encounter ruin his day?

But, surprisingly, nothing happened the rest of the day. Nobody treated him differently. It seemed Hyunjin hadn’t said a word.

So Felix tried to convince himself he’d imagined it. Hyunjin hadn’t actually noticed him skipping meals. It was all in his head.

But then it happened again.

Late at night, after a concert, Felix stumbled into a restroom stall, bile burning his throat. His head spun as he leaned over the sink, rinsing his mouth with cold water until there was no acidic taste left. For a moment, he thought he was safe, but then he looked up. And flinched.

Hyunjin was there, reflected in the mirror beside him, calmly drying his hands. Their eyes met. There was no surprise in Hyunjin’s gaze. No anything, really. He looked calm, as if he hadn’t seen Felix relapse. He just gave him a small nod and walked out, the door swinging shut behind him.

The dread that followed clung to Felix for days.

He told himself it was nothing, just a coincidence. Hyunjin had no reason to follow him, so why would he start now?

But it happened again in the hotel gym. Felix had pushed himself for hours, trying to burn off the takeout he’d shared with Jeongin and Minho the night before. His body was nearly unable to function from the strain, but he had to meet the others that day. Nobody noticed, thankfully, nobody but Hyunjin, who looked him over, furrowed his brows, and went back to reading a book.

Felix’s stomach twisted as he looked at Hyunjin with wide, bewildered eyes.

Because it was bizarre. Felix didn’t know how Hyunjin was doing it. He was certain there was no evidence on his face, but apparently not. Even wiping himself dry didn’t help. Hyunjin just knew.

Little by little, Felix’s anxiety grew. Hyunjin’s gaze seemed to follow him everywhere, whether he was there or not. Even in empty rooms, Felix found himself scanning the space, half-expecting Hyunjin to appear from the corners. It was making him paranoid. He felt like there was no escape. Hyunjin would find out anyway.

Felix even told Chan once, to reconsider and completely cancel the mentorship sessions, which, because of their busy schedule, were only possible once or twice a month. But Chan was insistent, as he always was.

“I don’t understand why, Felix,” Chan frowned. “Only one or two sessions a month is nothing. You’ve survived worse. Why is it a problem now?”

Felix stared at him, unable to say anything.

What could he say, really? That Hyunjin was pushing him to his limit? That when he raised his voice, Felix broke down, crying like a child? That he was avoiding him at all costs, terrified of being seen?

Chan was already treating him like he was incapable of functioning alone. Felix couldn’t make it worse.

So he chose to plead instead. “Please, hyung.”

“Just give me one reason. Is Hyunjin not treating you well? I can just talk to him.”

“No, no.” Felix shook his head. “I just… We are so busy, and I don’t have that much time left… And I promise if you cancel it, I’ll back off. We won’t have any disagreements anymore.”

Chan looked frustrated already. “No, Lix. That won’t do.”

“But why?”

“Avoiding each other isn’t a solution. It’s just postponing the problem. I know it’s difficult for you, but try, okay? I know you don’t want to do this, but I can’t just cancel for no reason.”

Felix gave up then, giving the leader a defeated nod. It was no use making Chan understand his point. The oldest wouldn’t budge unless he saw a flaw in his logic, and Felix couldn’t give him the real reasons why he was pleading in the first place.

So the struggle continued.

Hyunjin was unpredictable. Sometimes he was there, but sometimes he was nowhere to be found. Just as Felix would let his guard down, he’d appear again, making Felix panic, trying his best to look like nothing was wrong.

But Hyunjin, like always, looked him over, and his raised brow spoke for itself. He knew.

One night, after a heavy meal with the members, Felix felt the familiar panic crawl up his throat. He excused himself, told Minho he was going to bed, and waited until everyone was in their rooms. Then he slipped out, heading for a forgotten restroom down the hall.

He was on his knees, body convulsing, when the door hinges creaked softly.

Felix froze, mid-heave.

The cold porcelain pressed against his forehead as dread rooted him in place. Slowly, unwillingly, he got up, leaving the stall.

And of course, it was him.

Hyunjin was there, washing his hands. His face was passive, unimpressed, as if Felix hadn’t just puked his guts out in the same room.

Shame and rage propelled Felix upward. He braced himself against the wall, his throat burning. “What do you want?” he croaked.

Hyunjin didn’t react. “You’re very easy to find.”

Felix’s heart hammered against his ribs. “What do you want, Hyunjin?”

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging. He turned the water off, wiping his hands dry. “Can’t I be concerned for my ill bandmate?”

“You’ve never been concerned before. Why now?”

Hyunjin smiled at him in the reflection. “Because I care?”

As if.

Felix’s fists clenched, anger simmering in his gut. “Are you going to tell them? Is that it?”

But Hyunjin continued drying his hands, not even giving him an answer.

The silence stretched, tightening around Felix’s throat like a wire.

“Say something!” Felix’s voice broke, raw and desperate.

Hyunjin’s gaze finally met his in the mirror. “What would you want me to say?” he asked, genuinely curious. “That you’re not even trying? They can see that for themselves.”

Felix took a step back, tears of frustration welling hot in his eyes. “Then why? What the fuck do you want?”

Hyunjin tossed the paper towel into the bin. Then he gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. “I just find you interesting.”

Interesting?

This was interesting?

The sheer, absurd cruelty of it, reducing his disorder to Hyunjin’s curiosity, unraveled him. He couldn’t be here for another second. Felix wrenched the door open and stumbled into the hallway, not running, but fleeing from the room.

He stumbled down the hall, the taste of bile and humiliation fresh on his tongue.

═══════

“You’re not trying, Felix.”

Felix clenched his jaw, frustration simmering beneath his skin. He avoided looking around the mirror, fixing his gaze forward, trying his best to avoid meeting the monster’s gaze.

Hyunjin was seating on the floor, leaning against the wall of the hotel’s Pilates room, now a temporary dance studio thanks to Chan’s determination to keep their practice sessions on track.

Felix pushed through the choreography again, counting the beats aloud, his movements sharper, more deliberate. Yet, it wasn’t enough.

“You’re still not trying,” Hyunjin said, his tone deceptively soft. When Felix’s eyes flickered to his reflection, he saw Hyunjin studying his form with a displeased frown. “How many times should I tell you? Your weight is unbalanced. You lean on your right foot on the jump.”

Felix stopped dancing, his chest heaving under pressure. “Fuck off.”

Hyunjin merely rolled his eyes, unbothered by his insults, like he always was.

Felix expected another barked command, a sharp “Again!”, but Instead, Hyunjin stood from the floor and walked over, his steps measured, almost cautious.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Felix took a step back. “Get away from me.”

Hyunjin ignored him. He grabbed Felix’s phone from the ground, restarted the song with a tap, and placed it back down. “You’ll repeat after me. I won’t say it twice.”

Hyunjin started dancing then, doing the same eight counts he made Felix do before.

It was easy to forget why Hyunjin was the main dancer, until now. His body control was almost alien to what Felix was used to. Felix could barely contain a scowl.

Hyunjin was counting aloud every move, doing it slower so Felix could observe. When he made it to count five, where he had to jump, he executed it with the same grace as he did other moves. His core was controlled, and his landing was soft, almost soundless.

“The weight is even. See?” Hyunjin said, not even winded. “Do the same now.”

Felix hesitated, replaying all the moves Hyunjin did before. He looked at himself in the mirror then, and he didn’t give himself time to contemplate, doing the moves before Hyunjin lost his patience altogether.

When he glanced at Hyunjin, he expected to see the same unpleasant expression on his face, but he was surprised to find him just watching, his head tilted in that unnervingly analytical way.

“It’s better. Good job.”

He returned to his spot on the floor, crossing his legs. He looked in the mirror then, appearing ready to demand to Felix to do it again, but he stopped when he saw Felix’s surprised expression. The wide eyes, the raised brows, stunned into stillness by the two simple words.

Felix expected him to snap at him, but he didn’t. Hyunjin merely smiled, his voice surprisingly soft. “Snap out of it, Felix.”

Felix’s brows furrowed. Was it a trick? Did Hyunjin actually mean it? Or was he just making fun of him now?

Hyunjin read the suspicion on his face like an open book. “I’m not lying to you. You’re way better than how you started.” He didn’t allow time for a rebuttal or further contemplation. “From the top. Stay focused.”

Felix moved on autopilot, his body following the music while his mind raced, trying to understand why was Hyunjin so gentle out of a sudden. Why did he bother with demonstration, too? He never had done that before.

He watched himself in the mirror, sneaking glances at Hyunjin’s reflection.

Was this some kind of a sick joke?

═══════

Felix couldn’t help but feel perplexed after that.

Felix knew Hyunjin was watching him, for some sick reason. He felt his gaze nearly all the time now. It seemed as if Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said that he found him interesting, because Felix felt like a study case whenever Hyunjin was near.

The concerts were going fine, the members were doing well, and Felix tried his best to have a good time, but it didn’t work. It seemed impossible, really. How could he have a good time when he was paranoid of his own bandmate? When he felt like there were no ways to escape?

So Felix tried his best to avoid him. There were no viable options left.

He would linger in the dressing room until he was sure Hyunjin was gone. He'd walk on the opposite side of the hallway, a discreet distance always maintained. He even started taking the stairs instead of the elevator, just to avoid the possibility of being trapped in a small, enclosed space with him. But no matter how hard he tried, there was no escaping the inevitable. He still had to see Hyunjin on a daily basis.

But the attention changed. Hyunjin, himself, changed. If his gaze was curious before, now it was…

Caring, almost. Soft.

As soft as Hyunjin could possibly be, at least.

It started subtly. On stage, during a talk with fans, one of the signs asked a question: "Chan, if you were an animal, which animal would you be?" Chan laughed, launching into a thoughtful answer about being a wolf, and then passed the question to the rest of the members.

When it was Felix's turn, he answered, "A cat, probably. I really like Siamese cats! All the ones I’ve seen were very friendly."

Before Felix could finish, Hyunjin stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on Felix’s shoulder. He leaned into the mic, voice smooth and warm. “Doesn’t he make the cutest cat, Stay? We should get him cat ears.”

The crowd erupted in a wave of delighted screams. Felix's heart rate picked up, and he felt fingers tighten, ever so slightly, on his shoulder. When he glanced up, he saw Hyunjin's eyes on him, soft and knowing. It was the same look he'd seen in the mirror in the bathroom, the same unnerving look he saw every time he was caught.

Felix gulped, avoiding eye contact.

Another instance happened at an interview. They were at an awards show, and the interviewer asked them what they were most excited about during tours, and the members answered individually.

"…I’m really excited to perform our new song, actually," Felix said, his voice bright. "It's a really special one for me, and I can't wait to share it with everyone."

“Oh, I bet Stay will like it. You guys have one of the most loyal and supportive fanbases.” The interviewer smiled before turning. “And you, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin hesitated, thoughtful. When Felix glanced at him, their eyes met, and Hyunjin’s lips tugged into the smallest, almost imperceptible smile.

“I think I’m most excited for Felix’s performance,” he said, gaze never wavering. It was full of warmth, which shocked Felix the most. “He improved a lot.”

Felix felt Minho beside him stiffen, surprised. Felix felt heat crawl down his neck, his eyes widening at the praise.

“…Oh?” The interviewer blinked, intrigued. “Have you been working on this, Felix?”

Felix opened and closed his mouth, speechless. Hyunjin cut in smoothly.

“He has,” he said, flashing the woman a smile. “He’s been working hard for Stay.”

She turned to Felix warmly. “That’s wonderful. Fans will definitely appreciate your effort.”

The interview continued, but Felix couldn’t regain his composure. He forced himself to stand straight, nod at the right times, act professional, but his gaze kept drifting toward Hyunjin.

Was it real? Or just for the cameras, a way to make them look closer than they were?

Hyunjin never made gestures like this before, so why would he start now? Rumors, as Felix knew, never mattered to him that much.

Later, the changes became impossible to ignore. Hyunjin would acknowledge his presence with a nod, not appear annoyed if Felix talked too long. At the sessions, he was way more patient than he was before.

Others noticed it too. Jisung was the first to point it out while they were backstage, having a break from the show.

“I think you’re his favorite now,” he said, grinning from the couch.

Felix looked up from his phone. “Who?”

“Hyunjin. He treats you better than Innie these days. Never thought I would see the day, to be honest.”

Felix laughed, looking back at his screen. “He hates me, Sung.”

“Does he?” Jisung tilted his head. “Because it looks like he’s all over you lately. What did you do?”

“Nothing. And he’s not all over me, stop exaggerating.”

Jisung responded with a shrug. “He even complimented you multiple times.”

Felix huffed, in disbelief. “That has nothing to do with him liking me. He is just showing it off on camera.”

“I don’t think so,” he countered. “I asked him. And he didn’t deny it like you.”

Felix looked at him, his brows knitted. “Didn’t deny what?”

“That you’re his favorite.”

Felix’s breath caught in his throat. He looked around the backstage area, feeling a sudden, suffocating pressure in his chest. “Me?”

“Who else?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, yeah,” Jisung grinned.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not! Ask him!”

Felix stared at Jisung, confused. He didn’t understand if this was a joke. His mind was racing, trying to reconcile this new version of Hyunjin with the son of a bitch he knew. The Hyunjin who had called him weak just weeks ago. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.

Was this a prank? Would Hyunjin laugh in his face after this, for even believing for a second that he could be even tolerated around?

“You’re definitely lying,” Felix said, his voice quiet.

Jisung leaned back to the couch, exasperated. “I said, ask him. He likes you, why is this so hard to believe?”

“Because he hated me just weeks ago. What changed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you charmed him.”

Charmed him? The thought was so ridiculous it almost made Felix laugh. He had been actively avoiding him. He had been running away from him. How could that be charming?

The rest of the concert passed in a haze. On stage, under the blazing lights, Felix’s body moved on autopilot, hitting every mark and note with practiced precision while his mind raced in frantic circles. In every shared glance during a formation, every brush of shoulders in a transition, he searched Hyunjin’s face for a clue, a smirk, a roll of the eyes, any sign of the mockery he was sure was coming.

But he found nothing. Hyunjin’s stage persona was flawless, professional like it always was. His eyes, when they flickered toward Felix, held no particular malice. No particular anything, really. They were just… calm, unnervingly so.

The moment they finished the concert, Felix’s eyes tracked Hyunjin through the backstage, through the chaos of stylists and managers and other members working in one space. He watched as Hyunjin accepted a towel with a quiet ‘thanks,’ drank from a water bottle, and acted as if nothing was off. He never once looked Felix’s way. It was as if the conversation with Jisung had never happened, as if he hadn’t changed at all.

Later, in the silence of his own room, when the adrenaline of the performance finally bled away, Felix lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as if it could answer all his questions.

What changed? Why now? What do you want from me?

The situation made no sense. Hyunjin had to have some reason for treating him this way. He couldn’t just change personality overnight.

And then, against his will, a tiny, treacherous spark ignited in the pit of his stomach.

What if…?

He immediately tried to smother it. It was a foolish hope, and he wasn’t so forgetful of the past, either. Hyunjin was unpredictable, and nothing he did until now was kind. This was undoubtedly a game, a new strategy to destabilize him, to show how pathetic he was for even believing Hyunjin was interested in someone who, as Hyunjin pointed out numerous times before, was nothing but a ‘child.’ “A pathetic, blubbering child,” as Felix remembered.

But what if he was wrong? What if something did actually change?

But that didn’t make much sense. Felix didn’t change anything about himself. He treated Hyunjin the same, acted the same, and never once tried to appeal to him. Hyunjin had no reason to change so suddenly, out of the blue.

No matter how much he reasoned, the tiny spark of hope didn’t really go away. Because just months ago, he just wanted to be close. He wanted to get to know Hyunjin. Felix just wanted to be liked by the person he admired the most in their group.

He rolled over, pressing his face into the pillow with a frustrated groan. He couldn’t afford this. Believing it would only make the inevitable slap of reality cut even deeper.

Yet, as he finally drifted into a fitful sleep, the spark remained, a faint, stubborn glow in the dark that refused to be entirely extinguished.

═══════

The hotel room was quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioner and the wet drag of bristles against canvas. Hyunjin stood before the easel, cigarette in hand, smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling.

On the canvas, there was a vague portrait of another person. But it wasn’t really a portrait, not in the traditional sense. It was a blob of mixed colors. A deep, bloody red formed the core, swirling into a frantic, electric orange that bled at the edges into a sickly yellow. Flecks of a hopeful, fragile blue were smothered under a heavy, dominant gray.

Scattered across the canvas were thin notes in black ink. At the edge, one read: The deeper the shade, more intense the stimulation.

Hyunjin dipped his brush into red, the shade of fear, and dragged it through the gray, the perfect color of anxiety. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it blur the painting for a moment.

His mind replayed Felix’s expressions like a reel: the wide-eyed paranoia, which later morphed into fear, when Felix saw him noticing signs that everyone missed; the look of confusion when he praised him; the fragile, desperate hope in his eyes when all Hyunjin did was treat him with more grace than before; the confused excitement on stage, the unspoken question in every glance Felix sent his way.

It was so easy. Felix wore his emotions raw, unfiltered, spilling them out for anyone to read.

Hyunjin ashed his cigarette against the canvas, near where Felix’s head would be.

It wasn’t like it would ruin the portrait, really. From afar, it probably looked like random colors without any coordination, an abstract human form surrounded by lots of notes and sentences with no goal in mind.

But to him, it was a map of his experiences through another person.

All the intense emotions Felix gave him until now.

For so long, he had nothing. His mind was unable to find pleasure in anything but work. He didn’t feel like he had an identity. He felt like a machine operating on emotions that were desaturated compared to anyone else’s.

But Felix fixed it, didn’t he?

His emotions were unguarded, burning bright enough to stir something in him at last. Felix gave him what he lacked: stimulation, color, a reason not to sink into endless boredom.

He didn’t have to bury himself in work to escape either. Felix fixed it all.

Hyunjin smiled faintly, inhaling the smoke. He picked up a finer brush, dipped it into gray, the exact shade of anxiety he’d caught in Felix’s eyes backstage.

The room was still, his focus absolute.

He needed more. More colors. More shades. Felix was far from where he wanted him to be.

But that could wait.

They had all the time in the world.

Chapter Text

The hotel room was a mess. Suitcases lay open on the floor, half-devouring piles of clothes. The air held the faint, clean scent of hotel laundry and the lingering sweetness of shampoo. Outside the large window, the city was quiet, barely stirring, the sounds subdued by the early hour of the day.

Hyunjin moved through the mess, preparing for their upcoming flight to France. He folded a gray shirt, a soft hum escaping his lips. He felt calmer than usual, his body relaxed. There was no stiffness in his movements, no default frown on his face. He felt… serene, actually. Peaceful, almost.

In the corner of the room, Jeongin sat on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone. He had came in his room nearly half an hour ago, claiming he had nothing better to do since all the other members had already packed, except for Hyunjin, who’d had trouble waking up in the morning.

Hyunjin didn’t mind the company. He nearly never did, when it came to Jeongin. Of all the members, the youngest was the least likely to be unsettled by silence. He valued stillness just as much as Hyunjin did, a trait Hyunjin respected and appreciated the most about him.

And, true to his nature, Jeongin had barely spoken since he walked in.

But, two minutes passed, then five, and it seemed that he couldn’t hold his thoughts in forever.

“Hyung,” Jeongin broke the silence, his voice quiet.

Hyunjin didn’t look up. “Hm?”

“You’re not tired,” Jeongin stated, his tone soft but laced with curiosity. He lowered his phone, letting it rest on his knee. “What’s going on?”

Hyunjin paused, the sweatshirt half-folded in his hands. “Why should I be?”

“You usually are in the mornings.”

“Oh.” Hyunjin chuckled, placing the folded sweatshirt into his luggage. “Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”

Jeongin was silent for a long moment, his watchful gaze fixed on Hyunjin’s profile. The only sounds were the rustle of fabric and the distant, muffled sound of a car horn from the street below.

“A good mood,” Jeongin repeated, as if testing the words. He tilted his head. “Right.”

Hyunjin looked at him, a brow raised. “Why is that so unbelievable?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve known you for so long.”

Hyunjin’s brow furrowed, confused. Was he that moody, really? They made him sound like some edgy teenager going through puberty.

Jeongin just smiled and didn’t elaborate. Hyunjin went back to packing, his movements slow and unhurried. Nearly ten minutes passed, uninterrupted. He was almost done when Jeongin spoke again.

“Did something happen, hyung?”

Hyunjin placed his skincare products into the suitcase, taking a moment to arrange them perfectly next to a pair of jeans. He looked up, unfazed. “Do I need a reason to be cheerful?”

“You’re usually not.”

“Maybe I just decided to be.”

Jeongin didn’t budge. “Yeah, right. You want me to believe that?”

Hyunjin didn’t respond, returning to his luggage. But the youngest cut in.

"Okay, fine," Jeongin said, his voice dropping into a flatter, more matter-of-fact tone. He leaned back on his hands. "You don’t have eye bags. You don’t glare at random crying kids anymore... You don’t glare at Felix, either. There. I've covered the basics. Now what's the real reason?"

Hyunjin let out a single, sharp laugh. He zipped the bag a little too forcefully. "Maybe I'm just well-rested. It's not a conspiracy, Innie."

"It is when it's you," Jeongin shot back, but there was no malice in it. He was smiling, his voice light “I don’t know if you noticed, but you were humming the chorus of ‘Case 143’ now. And you told me that hate that song, hyung. You said it was 'lyrically idiotic'."

Hyunjin paused, caught. He had been humming. He hadn't even realized. “Oh.”

Jeongin laughed. “Yeah, oh.”

The older man sighed, the sound weary but not irritated. He ran a hand through his hair. “You caught me.”

“I know I did.” Jeongin paused, and a small, almost mischievous smile spread across his face. “Actually, now that I look at it, you almost seem like…”

Hyunjin raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Like you’re seeing someone.” Jeongin grinned.

Seeing someone.

Right.

Hyunjin’s gaze sharpened. “You want me to not glare at children on the plane, right?”

Jeongin blinked. “Yes.”

“Don’t get on my nerves, then.”

Jeongin laughed, his whole expression brightening. He grabbed his phone from the bed and stood up. “Okay. Okay, sorry,” he said, chuckling. “Binnie-hyung texted. He’s waiting in the car.”

Hyunjin gave a single, curt nod. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

The door clicked shut behind Jeongin, leaving Hyunjin alone in the silent room. He went to the drawers and opened one of them, revealing a small, rectangular portrait he had been working on.

He pulled it out, staring at the abstract swirls of color and the tiny, precise notes scribbled on stick-on notes. Gray: anxiety. 07/25. Ochre: frustration, vocal strain.

Jeongin was right, in a way. He was indeed doing better, but not for the reasons the younger speculated. But that wasn’t any of his business, was it?

He opened his luggage and placed the portrait carefully on top of his clothes. He slid a pair of designer sunglasses onto his face, grabbed his bags, and headed out the room. It was time to go.

The elevator ride down was silent and smooth. Outside, a black van was waiting for him at the curb. Through the tinted window, he could make out Jeongin’s profile in the middle row and Changbin’s broader frame in the passenger seat. He pulled the door open, a damp city chill following him inside.

“Hey,” he said, his voice flat as he tossed his bag into the footwell and slid into the seat behind the driver.

“Morning, sunshine,” Changbin grunted from the front, not turning around.

“Hyung.” Jeongin smiled, greeting him again with a nod. “I was just about to text you. You were taking a while.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “I’m here now.”

He gave a short nod to the driver before leaning back. His eyes scanned the van’s interior, his brow furrowing. One empty seat beside Jeongin. A member was missing. His gaze flicked to Changbin. “Where’s Felix?”

Changbin sighed. “I saw him in the hall earlier. He said he wasn’t feeling great. He’ll be down in a second.”

Wasn’t feeling well? Interesting. Did he have another one of his episodes?

He gave Changbin a small nod and looked out the window. A small family was entering the hotel, clad in traditional Islamic clothing. The father held the door, ushering the kids in, their bags slung over his shoulder.

As if on cue, the side door slid open seconds later. Chan appeared, one arm slung firmly around a wilted-looking Felix, the other hauling Felix’s luggage.

Hyunjin raised a brow at the sight, eyeing Felix from head to toe.

Why was it that every time he saw Felix, he looked about ready to collapse? Was his body actually that weak?

“Alright, make some room,” Chan said, his voice a gentle but firm command. He maneuvered Felix into the vacant seat beside Jeongin, who immediately shifted to give him more space.

“Hey guys,” Chan said, buckling Felix in with a practiced efficiency. He caught Hyunjin’s eyes and gave a brief, formal nod, and then turned to the driver, his voice soft. “Sir, let’s take it easy today, yeah? Our Bokkie’s a little under the weather.”

“Are you sick?” The driver looked at Felix, his worry palpable.

Felix didn’t get a chance to answer before Chan cut in. “It’s nothing serious. He’s just feeling weak.”

The man nodded and turned back, although he didn’t look fully convinced. Hyunjin saw Jeongin whisper something in Felix’s ear, but the words were too quiet for him to hear.

Chan leaned in, pressed a quick kiss to Felix’s temple, and then backed out of the van. “See you at the airport. Drive safe, everyone!”

The door slid shut. A moment later, the engine purred as they pulled away from the curb.

The ride was silent, only the sounds of the city filling the space. Hyunjin’s sunglasses hid the intensity of his observation, but his entire focus was on Felix’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

As Chan had said, Felix didn’t seem critical, but he was blinking slower than usual, and his breaths were shallow. He was pale and looked worn out. Yet it was unclear if it was regular fatigue or a caloric one. Hyunjin knew the usual signs of when Felix hadn't eaten, like the tremor in his hands from low blood sugar, and the frequent dry swallowing  - a natural reaction of someone with an empty stomach. Felix showed none of them.

Felix must have felt the weight of his scrutiny. He shifted, his eyes lifting from the floor to find Hyunjin’s gaze in the reflection. The moment their eyes met, Felix’s expression, which had been blank with discomfort, sharpened into an immediate, although somewhat forced, glare.

Hyunjin didn’t look away. He simply held the gaze for a beat longer, his own expression unreadable behind the dark lenses, before turning his head to stare out at the passing streets.

Felix could glare all he wanted. Hyunjin couldn’t care less, even if he tried.

═══════

The hotel lounge in Paris was homely, all big armchairs and warm lighting that brightened the dark wooden tables. Hyunjin sat in a chair a few feet from a plush sofa, a book open in his lap. A half-finished can of energy drink sat untouched on the small table beside him. Across the way, Chan and Minho were nestled on the sofa, a bottle and two glasses between them. They were talking about something uninteresting, so Hyunjin tuned them out long time ago.

It was a night off, and the majority of the members were in their rooms, resting for tomorrow’s show. The lounge itself was quiet, with only a handful of other people occupying the scattered tables.

"...No, I saw the final tracklist they made," Chan was saying, leaning back into the sofa. "It's solid. A couple of the side tracks are actually stronger than the main one, but what are you gonna do?"

Minho snorted. "It's always like that. Did some executive's nephew like the beat? Is that why they chose it?"

"Probably, yeah.” Chan agreed. “I tried to tell them, but..." He shrugged, a what-can-you-do gesture.

Minho’s response was too inaudible to hear from the distance. After some minutes of them talking, a comfortable silence fell between the two for a moment. Then, Minho’s gaze swept the room, checking his surroundings. His brow furrowed slightly.

“Is everyone here?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah, I think.”

"Where's Felix?" he asked, turning back to Chan. "I thought he was with you."

Chan’s shoulders slumped almost immediately. He let out a long, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire tour. "He's upstairs, in his room. He’s not feeling well."

Hyunjin’s finger, which had been idly tracing the edge of his book page, stilled. He didn't look up from the page, but he was listening, his interest piqued.

"Again?" Minho's voice lost its casual edge, sharpening with concern. "What's wrong? Is it the same thing like in Berlin?"

"I don't know, Minho," Chan admitted. "He's just very pale. I tried to get him to eat something, just some broth from here, but he refused. Said he couldn't stomach anything right now." The concern bled through his words. "I'm... I'm really starting to get worried."

Minho was silent for a long moment, processing. "Okay," he said, his voice now all business. He set his glass down with a soft click. "What's his room number? I'll go check on him."

"Four-ten. But Minho, if he says no-"

"I know, hyung. I’ll be patient," Minho cut him off, standing up.

Chan nodded, a small smile on his lips. “That’s good. Text me how he’s doing, yeah?”

“Of course.”

He gave Chan’s shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze before walking out of the lounge.

Hyunjin remained perfectly still, the book long forgotten in his hands. He finally reached for his energy drink, taking a long sip, his expression thoughtful.

Chan was sitting on the sofa, his posture stiff. He fidgeted in his seat, appearing uncomfortable with the silence. Minutes passed, and when Hyunjin turned the page of his book, regaining his focus, Chan spoke again, his voice wary.

“Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin didn’t spare him a glance. “Yes?”

Chan slowly turned to him, an apologetic, awkward smile on his face. “I’m really sorry.”

“Hm?”

“About that day. It was unfair of me to bring management into it. I’m really sorry.”

Hyunjin shrugged, his gaze on the book.

He had long forgotten the incident, but it seemed like Chan hadn’t. Was guilt eating him alive till now?

Hyunjin wished he could care as much as Chan did, really.

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“You do?” the leader asked, doubtful.

“Of course, hyung,” he replied, his voice soft. “You were just trying to protect the group. I’m sorry as well.”

Chan appeared uncomfortable, not sure what to say. “Ah… It’s okay. I’m glad we are… fine now.”

The silence that followed was more comfortable, the lingering tension from their previous confrontation finally dissipating. Chan’s posture relaxed, the rigid line of his shoulders softening. He picked up his phone, relieved.

A moment later, his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a notification. Chan opened it, his eyes scanning the message.

“Is it hyung?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yeah,” Chan answered, looking up. “He says Felix isn’t sick, he just feels light-headed. Promises he will eat tomorrow, but not now. He’s doing fine, apparently.”

Hyunjin stood up, picking up his empty can from the table. He was walking towards a trash bin nestled between two potted plants when Chan spoke.

“He hasn’t eaten all day, I think. I’m worried. What if…” He didn’t finish his sentence, his expression dropping.

Hyunjin stopped. For a moment, he was perfectly still, the can cool in his hand. Then, a slow, deliberate smile spread across his lips.

He turned to face Chan, the smile still playing on his lips. “Do you want me to go check on him?”

Chan blinked. “What?”

“I can go check on him, hyung.”

Chan looked utterly taken aback. “Why?”

Hyunjin shrugged. “I’m trying to reconcile. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Of course, yeah. Everyone has. We’re grateful.”

“I’ll go to him, then.” Hyunjin smiled wider, dropping the can in the trash. “You don’t have to worry.”

Chan stilled. “Worry about what?”

“Him eating, hyung.”

Almost immediately, a look of worry passed across Chan’s face.

“No, Hyunjin-“

But Hyunjin didn’t give him time to refuse. Without another word, he walked out of the lounge, his steps purposeful and quick on the plush carpet.

The elevator ride was smooth and silent. The corridor on the fourth floor was hushed, isolated from the city's noise. He stopped in front of the plain wooden door with a polished brass number on a metal beside it. Room 410.

Hyunjin knocked, slipping his hands into his pockets as he waited for a response. It didn’t take long before he heard distant sound of soft footsteps from within, and then the door creaked open slowly.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Felix stood there, bleary-eyed, his hair a soft mess. He was swimming in an old, faded band t-shirt, his frame looking smaller than usual. He blinked, his brain slowly processing the figure in the hallway.

“Hyunjin?” he asked, confused.

Hyunjin chuckled. “Hey.”

Felix took a second to regain his composure. Hyunjin could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice flat as he attempted to glare, but failed spectacularly.

“Chan-hyung is worried about you,” Hyunjin said. He didn’t wait for an invitation, pushing the door open just enough to step inside, forcing Felix to take a step back.

Felix’s room was not unlike his own. The same design, the same furniture. All that made it different was the mess. The curtains were drawn, the bed was rumpled, and on the nightstand, a room service tray held a covered bowl of broth and a spoon, untouched. The one that had probably been left there by Chan himself.

“I told him I was alright,” Hyunjin heard Felix say from behind. “You can go.”

Hyunjin turned to him, raising a brow. “Do I look dumb to you, Felix?”

Felix’s jaw twitched, his gaze narrowing into a scowl. “I said, go away,” he warned, gritting the words through his teeth.

“Oh?” Hyunjin couldn’t help but smile. “What will you do if I won’t?”

“I will call the staff, and they will force you out themselves.”

The staff? Hyunjin let out an amused huff, going to the sofa at the corner of the room and taking a seat. He glanced up at Felix, his gaze challenging.

“Do it, then.”

Felix stood still in the middle of the room, frustration written all over his face. Hyunjin could see the gears turning behind his eyes, searching for a solution that wouldn't involve a humiliating call to hotel staff and then trying to explain to the other members why he kicked Hyunjin out.

He didn’t seem to know what to do.

Finally, the fight seemed to drain out of him, leaving behind a raw, weary confusion. "Why?" Felix asked, his voice barely above a whisper, losing its sharp edge. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Hyunjin held his gaze. He almost answered honestly with, Because I don’t want to be bored, but chose not to. Instead, he offered a half-truth. “It’s frustrating to see people enabling you.”

“You never cared, Hyunjin.”

“I do now,” Hyunjin said, looking at the bowl before flicking his gaze back to Felix’s face. “I will leave if you pick up that bowl and finish at least half of it. Prove to me you're not completely incapable of basic self-preservation.”

“I don’t have to prove shit to you,” Felix spat.

What a lie. Did Felix actually think he was dumb?

Hyunjin smiled.

“You’re stuck with me, then.”

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Felix’s jaw was set, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He held Hyunjin’s stare for a long moment, his gaze stubborn. Then, with a sound of pure defiance, he turned his back and shut the door behind him. He stomped over to the bed, yanked the comforter aside, and laid down, turning to face the wall, pulling the covers over his shoulder in a clear, final dismissal.

How childish.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, sinking his back to the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. He picked up a magazine from the coffee table, some glossy local guide, and began to idly flip through the pages. The only sounds were the rustle of paper and Felix’s deliberately steady, too-even breathing.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Hyunjin occasionally glanced over the top of the magazine. He could see the tense line of Felix’s shoulders under the blanket, the way he wasn’t relaxing into the mattress but was laying rigid, every muscle taut with the awareness of being watched. He wasn’t sleeping, that was clear. He was trying to act like he was, but he was failing terribly.

Finally, there was a huff of exasperation from the bed. The blankets shifted. Felix sat up, his back still to Hyunjin, and ran an agitated hand through his hair. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and marched to the nightstand. He snatched up the spoon, lifted the lid of the bowl, and shoveled two quick, angry spoonfuls of broth into his mouth.

He swallowed with an audible gulp, slammed the spoon down, and turned to face Hyunjin, glaring at him.

“There. Are you happy? Now get out.”

Hyunjin’s eye twitched, his patience about to vanish into the thin air.

Who did this kid think he was?

“I said half the bowl,” he said, his voice low and dangerously even.

“I don’t care what you said!” Felix shot back. “I did it! Now leave me alone!”

Hyunjin slowly placed the magazine back on the table, standing up. Felix, almost immediately, took an involuntary step back. Hyunjin didn’t advance toward him outright. He just looked at him, his patience clearly gone, replaced by contempt.

“You have three seconds to sit down and finish what’s in that bowl,” Hyunjin said, his tone low. “Or I will call Chan back up here, and I will tell him you need to be supervised like a toddler for the rest of the tour, every time you relapse. Is that what you want?”

Hyunjin could almost see the color draining from Felix’s face, his defiance shattering. He didn’t want Chan to know.

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Felix looked down at the bowl. Without another word of protest, he sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the spoon again, and began to eat. He didn’t look at Hyunjin again, his entire being focused on the mechanical task of finishing the broth, spoonful by miserable spoonful.

Hyunjin watched, his arms crossed, until the bowl was nearly empty. Only then did he give a single, curt nod.

“See? Was that so difficult?”

The kid glared at him. “Fuck off.”

“Learn how to behave like an adult, Felix.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and left, closing the door softly behind him, leaving the petulant child scowling in his hotel room.

═══════

After that, everything began to bore Hyunjin to death.

They had been in Paris for five days, and the tour was going fine. Their concerts were nearly perfect: the crowds were energetic, and his bandmates were in high spirits. The hotel they were staying in was beautiful, too, all fancy design and high-quality food. Everything was good…

Perfect, actually, all except for the fact that Felix was definitely avoiding him ever since he’d forced him to eat that night.

The kid was running away, that much was clear. One day, out of a sudden, Felix just pretended he was interested in his phone whenever Hyunjin came in the room. But it escalated quickly. Now, if Felix saw him from down the hall, he would literally turn on his heel before Hyunjin could even blink, running away to an elevator or through a service door. He was no longer in the hotel's common areas, even. The lounge, the gym, the dining room, it didn’t matter. He had effectively vanished, probably holed up in his hiding spot doing God knows what.

And it affected Hyunjin almost immediately.

Hyunjin felt the absence like a physical itch under his skin. He was trying his best to scratch it, but it seemed like nothing was enough now, when he knew what real stimulation and entertainment felt like. He could bury himself in the distractions, but at the end of the day, it wasn’t enough.

He needed to see Felix again. He was so fucking bored, to the point where it almost became unbearable.

And it began to show in his mood. The cheerful interactions with the fans during concerts, all which visibly excited others, only grated on his nerves. He found himself easily annoyed, his patience worn tissue-paper thin now. A member's loud laugh, a staff member asking a dumb question, someone merely existing too close to him, and it enough for Hyunjin to glare at them like they were doing something amoral right in front of his eyes.

He tried to entertain himself, really. Tried keeping himself busy. He pushed his body in gym until his muscles screamed and his shirt was soaked through. But even exercising to failure provided no relief. The painting, the planning, crafting ideas. He tried everything.

It didn’t work.

It was exhausting. And the others quickly paid the price for his mood.

Like the time they were backstage, right after a concert, the air thick with post-show adrenaline and the smell of sweat and hairspray. Changbin was buzzing with energy, a small smile on his face.

“Hey, Hyunjin,” he said, tapping his shoulder. “Have you seen Choi-nim? Chan was asking for him earlier.”

Hyunjin was wiping his face with a towel. He stopped, lowering it slowly. He was irrationally agitated by the mere question alone. He fixed Changbin with a piercing glare, as if his hyung had done something profoundly wrong.

The smile slid off Changbin’s face. He blinked, visibly uncomfortable. “Or… not,” he mumbled, taking a half-step back. “Forget I asked.” He turned away quickly, seeking out Seungmin instead.

A day later, in the hotel lounge, a few of them were hanging out together. Jeongin was slumped on a couch, scrolling on his phone.

“Hyung,” he said, not looking up. “Can you grab me a water from the cooler?”

Hyunjin, who was standing by the window staring at nothing, didn’t turn around. His voice was a low, cold drawl. “Are your legs broken, Jeongin?”

The room went quiet. Minho raised a brow at him. “What the fuck? What has gotten into you lately?”

Jeongin stopped scrolling. He looked up, his expression confused. “Never mind,” he said quietly, his voice tight. He stood up and got the water himself, not looking at Hyunjin again.

Hyunjin became insufferable to be around.

The effect was immediate. A chill settled over the group. The easy, relaxed atmosphere severed. Nobody interacted with him now, not until it was absolutely necessary, and even then, they seemed to be walking on pins and needles, not sure what could agitate him next.

Hyunjin had successfully pushed them all away. The silence he was left with was satisfying, at least. Nobody annoyed him more than he could tolerate now. He was finally left alone.

And Felix was nowhere to be found.

Hyunjin tried, really. He checked every possible location where Felix was most likely to be: the other members’ rooms, the gym, the yoga room, the spa, the balconies. But Felix, it seemed, had become an expert at hiding overnight. Or he had found a place where Hyunjin couldn’t find him.

It was all getting under his skin.

The days dragged on. Hyunjin grew more irritated as time passed, and on the fifth day, when the pressure became nearly unbearable, he snapped.

He needed to find the kid.

Hyunjin stood in the doorway of the lounge, watching his members talk at a table, seemingly at ease. Chan was leaning over a laptop, pointing something out to Seungmin, while Jeongin and Changbin were talking about something Hyunjin couldn’t hear. It was all boring anyway, he was sure.

He walked in, the pleasant mask he usually wore to remain polite feeling brittle and thin now. He came to a stop near their table, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Hey,” he said, his voice carefully neutral, controlled.

They all looked up. The easy chatter died instantly.

“What’s up, Jin?” Chan asked, closing his laptop lid a fraction.

Hyunjin took a slow breath. “Do any of you know where Felix is?”

A beat of silence passed. Chan exchanged a glance with the others at the table, confused. It was Seungmin who spoke finally, his tone cautious. “No. Why?”

“I need to talk to him.”

“About what?”

Hyunjin’s hand clenched into a fist. “About business, Seungmin.”

Seungmin’s brow furrowed, visibly taken aback. His eyes quickly narrowed into a glare, but he didn’t voice his annoyance aloud, thankfully.

Hyunjin had no patience left to argue today.

Jeongin cut in before things could escalate. “I don’t know where he is, but I can text him, if you want?”

Hyunjin let out a silent breath of relief.

Of course, Jeongin was the only one with any sense here.

“That would be great.”

Jeongin pulled out his phone without a word and typed a message. He placed it on the table, and a minute later, it buzzed with a notification. He read the message, his expression turning slightly puzzled. “He says he’s in the hotel. But… he says he’s in the ‘old library’? I didn’t even know this place had one.”

“Where is it?” Hyunjin’s voice was sharper than he intended.

“He says it’s on the basement level, past the spa.” Jeongin looked up, concerned. “Hyung, what’s this really about?”

“Choreography,” Hyunjin answered flatly. He was already turning. “Thank you, Innie.”

He didn’t take the elevator. He found the stairwell, his steps echoing on the concrete as he walked down the stairs, on the lowest floors of the hotel. And, when he finally reached his destination, he passed the glowing entrance of the spa center and continued down a narrower, dimmer corridor.

And there it was. An unassuming, dark wooden door, older than the others, with a tarnished handle. No sign.

This had to be it. The library.

Hyunjin opened the door.

The inside of the room was large, lined with shelves of forgotten books covered in a fine layer of dust. The seats were barely occupied, maybe three to five people in total, even though the library itself seemed endless in space alone. And there, in a single old armchair tucked in the corner under a weak, yellowing lamp, was Felix. He was curled in the chair with his knees drawn to his chest, a book open in his lap.

But he wasn’t reading. He was just staring into the book, his eyes still, looking smaller than Hyunjin has ever seen him.

Hyunjin deeply inhaled, finally feeling like he could breathe again.

He stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. He looked around the space, noticing a plain chair in the corner. Before Felix could even notice his presence, Hyunjin grabbed the chair with more force than necessary, placed it directly in front of where Felix was, sat down, leaned back, and crossed his arms, waiting for the boy to look up at him.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Felix gazed up, and his eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He blinked. “Why…”

This little piece of shit.

“I didn’t know that you were a coward too, Felix,” Hyunjin gritted the words through his teeth.

Felix looked taken aback. “A coward?”

“Hiding in a forgotten room. Are you scared of confrontation, too? What are you, five?”

Anger flushed Felix’s pale cheeks, but his voice remained a low, furious hiss, constrained by silence of the library. “Get out.”

“No.” Hyunjin leaned in, making the space feel claustrophobic. “Act like an adult. If you have a problem with me, say it to my face.”

Felix’s voice lowered.  A warning. “Leave. Right now.”

Hyunjin didn’t pay it any mind, glaring daggers right back at him. “Show some backbone first.”

This was Felix’s last straw, as it seemed.

His composure cracked instantly.

“My problem is you!” Felix’s voice lowered, his whisper sharp and venomous. He uncurled from the chair, placing the book on his lap with a trembling hand. “You are my problem! You show up out of nowhere, you force your way into my room, you… you force me to eat, you act like some kind of… prison warden, and then you have the nerve to call me a child?!”

His voice rose slightly before he caught himself, glancing around the space. He took a sharp breath then, lowering it again to a desperate whisper, but failing. “You ignore me for years, you make it clear you can’t stand me, and then suddenly you’re everywhere. You’re in my business, all the fucking time. You’re… you changed. And I don’t even know why! I don’t know what you want from me, and it’s driving me insane! Just leave me alone!”

Hyunjin heard someone clearing their throat from a nearby aisle. A woman peered over a shelf of novels, her expression one of distinct disapproval. Hyunjin’s eyes flickered toward the sound, his jaw tightening.

This was not the place.

“Get up,” Hyunjin commanded, his voice low.

“No,” Felix shot back, sinking deeper into the armchair, his arms folding tightly across his chest. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Hyunjin, unfortunately, was already operating on last threads of patience all day. And in the moment, he lost it all.

In one fluid motion, he leaned forward, his hand closing around Felix’s wrist. His grip was like iron, and Felix’s reaction was instant.

“Let go of me!” He hissed, trying to pull back, but Hyunjin was already hauling him to his feet. The book fell from Felix’s lap and dropped on the floor with a soft thump.

“Keep your voice down,” Hyunjin murmured, his tone calm as he began to pull Felix toward the door. Felix dug his heels in, and he was successful for a second, managing to slow him down, but Hyunjin tugged him again, forcing him to keep walking.

“What are you doing? Stop it! Hyunjin!” Felix protested in a frantic whisper, his free hand grabbing at Hyunjin’s arm, trying to loosen his grip. Hyunjin ignored it, walking out of the room.

He pulled them out of the library and into the empty basement corridor, eyeing the doors. He spotted a sign for a restroom, tugged Felix towards it, shoved the door open, and pulled him inside, releasing his wrist only to lock the door behind them with a definitive click.

They were alone now, at last.

Finally.

The change in atmosphere was jarring. They were in a small, sterile, single-occupy bathroom, all cold white tile and harsh dim light. It was claustrophobic, almost. And the only sound he heard was Felix’s breathing, too loud for the small space.

Felix stumbled back a step, rubbing his wrist. “Are you insane?” he exploded, his voice echoing off the tiles. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He didn’t pay him any mind, leaning back against the locked door, his arms crossed. He took a moment to compose himself, taking a second to notice the adrenaline on top of all red-hot emotions Felix felt. Frustration, anger, resentment. Confusion, too. And deep down, Hyunjin knew Felix was afraid. He was all too familiar with how it felt, all thanks the kid himself. There was no mistaking the signal overtaking his senses, screaming at him flee from the room. To escape.

It was exhilarating.

After such a long time of withdrawal, Felix’s emotions seemed like a reward.

Was this too much to ask?

Hyunjin took a breath in. “Now explain, like an adult, what’s bothering you.”

Felix’s face all but reddened with anger. “You are, you piece of shit! Why can’t you just let me be?! I haven't done anything to you!”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Why? What the fuck do you want from me?”

Hyunjin’s brows furrowed, his voice calm. “Because I find you interesting, Felix. How many times should I explain it to you?”

“I don’t even know what that means!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes.

“Are you slow, too? Should I teach you Abc’s?”

The anger, frustration, and the proximity, like it seemed, was too much for Felix to bear. He made a desperate lunge for the door, his fingers scrambling for the handle.

He was almost successful before Hyunjin moved. In a flash, he caught Felix, spinning him around and pressing him firmly against the cold door. Felix gasped, his eyes wide, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

A second passed, and pure, undiluted fear shone in them.

Felix was petrified.

“Let me go,” Felix whispered, his voice trembling. He pushed against Hyunjin’s chest, but his arms held no strength.

How ironic, really. Felix’s muscles were betraying him now, then he needed them the most, because he got them to decay all by himself.

“This is not funny, Hyunjin,” Felix warned, clutching Hyunjin’s hands with his trembling ones. “Let me go!”

Hyunjin didn’t move, his breathing mixing with Felix’s. Deep, slow. They were so close now that he could almost see the residue of dry makeup on Felix’s skin.

And, in that moment, something shifted.

Felix showed something different. Something far more intoxicating than fear.

He studied Felix with heightened interest, cataloging every tiny betrayal: the rapid flutter of his pulse at his throat, the hitch of his breath, the parted lips that couldn’t quite form resistance. The fear was still there, yes, but it was tangled with something else. Something warmer. Hungrier…

…Attraction?

A slow smile curved Hyunjin’s lips, sharp and curious.

He leaned in, closing the inches between them, letting his breath ghost over Felix’s skin. He watched Felix’s reaction closely, paying attention to every detail. Testing him.

Was this actually attraction?

Felix flushed scarlet, his eyes wide with mortification. For a fleeting second, quick but undeniable, his gaze dropped to Hyunjin’s mouth before snapping back up, horrified at his own betrayal.

Hyunjin’s pulse kicked.

He was right.

He was fucking right.

“Do you like me, Felix?” he murmured, his voice velvet and taunting.

Felix’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He shook his head in a frantic little motion, whispering, “No, no…” He pressed himself harder against the door as though he could vanish into it, turning his face away.

Hyunjin didn’t allow it. Fingers tilted Felix’s chin back, firm but not cruel, forcing their eyes to lock again.

“No?” he asked, his voice warm.

“No, Hyunjin. Let me go!” Felix’s voice broke, desperate. “I never did anything to you!”

Hyunjin only smiled, and his hunger finally showed. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, drawing out the words in a whisper.

The reaction was immediate.

“No!” Felix gasped, his hands flying up to Hyunjin’s shoulders.

He wasn’t pushing him away, actually. If anything, he was pulling him closer, clinging without realizing he was doing it. The fear stayed etched on his face, but his body was betraying him, and Hyunjin felt it with every shiver of muscle under his grip.

That was all the answer he needed.

He leaned in, not for the kiss yet, just hovering, giving Felix space to recoil, to hit him, to run, even.

He wanted him to have a choice.

But Felix didn’t do anything. He just stood there, pressed against the door, frozen, his body trembling, his eyes darting to Hyunjin’s lips again.

Hyunjin closed the distance then.

Felix clearly desired him. Maybe not his mind, but his body definitely did.

The first brush of his mouth was deliberate, deceptively gentle. He let his lips touch Felix’s own, gently, just hovering on top, testing the waters before allowing himself the freedom later on. Then, his lips moved with reverence, soft yet insistent, savoring every moment. He let himself roam free, lips tracing the bow of Felix’s upper lip, the slight dip of his corners, the edges where tension gathered the most.

He received no resistance whatsoever, just Felix clinging to his shoulders, his lips trembling, slightly open as he panted aloud. But it wasn’t enough. Hyunjin’s hunger slipped through, control breaking at the edges.

His hand came up, not to cradle Felix’s face, but to anchor it, his thumb pressing hard against the hinge of Felix’s jaw. The pressure forced Felix’s mouth to open just a fraction wider, gasping.

He caught Felix’s full lower lip between his own, sucking on the flesh. A wave of electricity traveled through him almost instantly, a sensation which undoubtedly belonged to Felix. Hyunjin couldn’t even contain a whimper, the sound loud and pained.

His other arm banded around Felix’s waist, locking him in place, erasing the last inch of space between them. He started mapping his lips then, sucking, tasting every inch of flesh he could reach, as reverent and gentle as he could be. He didn’t even care that Felix wasn’t kissing him back. He didn’t have to. This was more than enough.

His nerves were electrified. His body, as a whole, was on fire.

But it all ended too soon.

After a long moment of being utterly in shock, Felix flinched, his body recoiling. Then a broken, helpless sound escaped him. His hands tightened on Hyunjin’s shirt, trying to push him away. Again.

This was enough. Felix was reaching his limit, Hyunjin could tell.

He had to let go. He didn't want to scare Felix more than he already did.

Hyunjin pulled back, slow and deliberate, giving Felix time to adjust. He studied Felix’s face, panting slightly, greedy for every reaction.

For a long second, Felix simply stared, his breath coming in shallow, shocked pants. His eyes were wide, unblinking, reflecting the bathroom light and a dawning horror. Then, a sheen of tears glossed them over, and a single, round drop welled up and traced a path down his cheek.

Hyunjin’s chest tightened. He couldn’t look away.

He had never felt so alive.

Felix whispered, voice shaking, “Why are you playing with me? What have I ever done to you?”

Hyunjin took a breath in, trying his best to regain control.

“Felix…” he said, his voice dropping to a near-purr, softer now, gentle. He reached up, brushing the tear away with his thumb, the skin hot beneath his touch. “I’m not playing with you, angel.”

Felix flinched at the contact, like the touch burned.

“I thought…” His voice cracked, words breaking apart. “I thought you-”

A raw, gut-wrenching sob broke from his lips, cutting off whatever fragile hope he was about to voice loudly. With a desperate, broken cry, Felix shoved Hyunjin away, turned around, and wrenched the door open. He fled from the room, the sound of his hurried footsteps echoing down the empty hallway before fading away.

The door swung shut slowly, leaving Hyunjin alone in the sudden, ringing silence.

Hyunjin didn’t move, savoring every sensation that Felix gave him. Then, finally, slowly, he lifted his hand, his fingertips touching his own lips.

They were trembling too, like Felix’s were.

He felt the ghost of the kiss imprinted on them. A mix of softness, salt, and the tremor of Felix’s response. He could still feel the frantic beat of Felix’s pulse beneath his thumb, the heat of his skin, the shocking wetness of his tears.

He took a slow, deep breath in.

How the hell did he let Felix get away from him for so long? All when Felix was capable of igniting such a reaction? When kissing him, even as short as it was, felt like he was setting his body on fire?

How could he have been so naïve?

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.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, Sung.”

Jisung grunted, cracking one eye open. “What?”

“If you could fix any problem just by snapping your fingers,” Changbin began, his voice jarringly bright for the hour, “what would it be?”

Jisung let out a pained groan, burying his face deeper into his hoodie’s collar. “Hyung. It’s six a.m. I haven’t even had breakfast yet. What the actual fuck?”

Changbin just laughed, unfazed. “I gotta wake you up somehow! You look like a ghost.”

“I feel like one, too,” Jisung mumbled, tipping his head back against the window, already done with the conversation.

But Changbin was relentless, it seemed. He turned to the others, voice bouncing around the van. Hyunjin pressed his temple to the cool glass, sunglasses hiding half of his face. If he looked asleep, maybe he’d be left alone. For about a minute, it worked.

Until it didn’t.

“Hey, Hyunjin.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Hyunjin didn’t answer, hoping that Changbin would take the hint, but the rapper, unsurprisingly, didn’t.

“Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin opened his eyes, his jaw clenching. “What?” he spat.

Changbin only grinned at him. “If you could have any power in the world-”

“No.”

“I didn’t even ask the question yet!”

Hyunjin slid further away, jaw tight, eyes screwed shut. Shut up, please.

A soft snicker came from his left. Minho patted Changbin’s shoulder. “Leave the corpse alone, Binnie. He’s not even among us living yet.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation!”

“Fine, fine. I’d choose invisibility,” Minho said, his voice gentle. “What about you?”

The two launched into a debate. Hyunjin felt the pull of sleep, his body heavy with days of accumulated exhaustion, but the van’s jostling and Changbin’s voice kept him on high alert still.

Twenty minutes later, the van slowed into a bay that smelled heavily of diesel. Hyunjin didn’t move, his limbs feeling like wood, dreading the day ahead, but, of course, someone had to disturb him.

A firm hand shook his shoulder. “Hey. We’re here.”

Hyunjin remained still.

The hand pressed harder. “Hyunjin.”

It instantly got under his skin.

His eyes snapped open, narrowing into a glare. “I heard you the first time.”

Minho sighed, unfazed. “You look dead… When was the last time you actually slept properly?”

Hyunjin unbuckled his seatbelt and stood, his movements stiff. He dismissed Minho with a wave. “Don’t worry about it, hyung.”

Minho muttered something low, probably a curse, but Hyunjin ignored it. The chill hit him instantly when he stepped out, slicing through his clothes. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, following the others inside, his steps hurried.

The dressing room was chaos, racks of clothes rattling, air thick with hairspray and coffee. After the obligatory greetings to the staff, their head manager, Eunji, clapped her hands, cutting through the chatter.

“Okay, listen up!” she shouted, gaining everyone’s attention. “Today’s rehearsal will last about two hours, and we will go through each track. After that, you have three hours for hair, makeup, and a meal. The setlist is final, no changes. Any questions?”

Silence held for a moment before Chan’s weary voice broke it. “Is the break time the same?”

“In the middle of the show?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s five minutes more than usual. Since all of you will be adjusting the choreo and Felix isn’t here, we are giving you more time to cool down,” Eunji said, looking over them. “Should we have added more?”

Chan shook his head. “No, no. It’s fine.”

Eunji finished her rundown soon enough, and the members went different ways, getting ready for the grueling day ahead. Hyunjin straightened his stiff limbs before pushing his sunglasses up, settling them in his dark hair. He was about to walk away, too, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“Hyunjin. A word.”

Chan’s voice was low, serious, but when Hyunjin looked at him, the leader offered a small, strained smile and gestured with his chin toward the corner near the rack of spare outfits, silently asking him to follow him.

And Hyunjin did, without a word. It wasn’t like Chan would take anything other than yes as an answer anyway.

Chan finally stopped at the corner. He leaned against the wall, the practiced smile gone, replaced by a deep weariness that seemed to settle in his shoulders. He ran a hand through his curls.

“How have you been, Jin-ah?” he asked, his voice softer now. “I’ve noticed you’ve been tired recently. Everything alright?”

“I’m fine, hyung,” he said, his voice low. He watched Chan shift his weight, uncomfortable. “Is there something bothering you?”

Chan let out a long, slow breath, as if he’d been holding it for days. He looked at the wall behind Hyunjin, then back to him, his brows pinched together. “Not necessarily.”

“Do you need me for something, then?”

Chan sighed, his hand flying to the nape of his neck. He didn’t speak for a moment, and it only grated on Hyunjin’s nerves. He was contemplating whether to leave when Chan spoke again.

“Um... I was thinking about this for a while and... I want your help.”

Hyunjin looked at him. “With what?”

“Um, you know… with Felix,” Chan said with an awkward smile on his face. “He listens to you, right? And I know you're trying to reconcile. You said that already. And it would be really helpful if you helped me... helped us with his eating.”

“You want me to help Felix eat?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah.”

Hyunjin’s interest piqued immediately. He wasn’t surprised by the request per se, if anything, he was waiting for it, but it was still surprising to hear Chan ask for his help. The leader usually never did.

“You won’t like my ways of helping, hyung.”

Chan’s jaw tightened, barely visible. He fell silent for a moment, his lips a thin line, his gaze anywhere but on Hyunjin, but finally, he nodded, sounding fully defeated as he said, “Yeah, I know.”

Hyunjin looked at him with renewed curiosity. “You still want me to help?”

Chan nodded once again. “I don’t really have a choice. I just want him to be healthy. I was trying, and I’m still trying my best, but he…” He didn’t finish the sentence, his lip curling in dissatisfaction. “I just want you to try. It’s all I can do right now.”

What a hypocrite.

Chan always made a point to reprimand him for his apathy, especially when the matter involved Felix. But now, when his suffocating methods inevitably failed, he was asking Hyunjin for help?

Hyunjin looked at him, his brow furrowed. You’re using me for the same traits you always punished me for.

But it wasn’t like he minded it. Chan was presenting him with an opportunity without fully knowing what he was doing anyway.

“Sure,” Hyunjin said after a moment of silence, his tone gentle. “But I doubt I would be helpful.”

Chan raised a brow. “You can get him to eat, can’t you?”

Hyunjin shrugged. “Forcing him to eat won’t fix his eating disorder, hyung. It’s a psychological issue.”

Chan’s frustration flared, his voice growing heavier. “I understand that, I do...” He began slowly, every word spoken deliberately with added weight. “But right now, just fixing his habits is our top priority. I just need him to get through the day first. We can work on the long-term fix later, Jin. I’m just asking you to help him now.”

“Help him now?”

Like how the entire band has probably been doing for years already, with no results?

It was no wonder Felix was still severely disordered. Was this their method of ‘helping,’ really?

Hyunjin felt a fresh wave of exhaustion wash over him. “Has he ever seen a psychiatrist?”

“Yes. Of course he has.”

“And what did they say?” Hyunjin pressed, keeping his voice soft. “What’s the cause of his disorder?”

Chan’s shoulders slumped slightly. “He never really shared the details with me. I don’t think he was ever totally honest with them, either,” he said, pausing. He looked up. “Why?”

“I need to know the root issue so I can help him get rid of it, hyung.”

And it seemed like the right thing to say.

Almost immediately, Chan’s eyes brightened with hope, his frustration no longer visible. “Oh, sure… well, it’ll probably be in his medical files. I can have the team pull them… I’ll show them to you, if you want.”

Hyunjin couldn’t help but eye Chan, surprised by his offer.

Wouldn’t this be considered unfair to Felix? An invasion of his privacy? Actually, wasn’t the whole thing unfair to Felix, considering how much he didn’t want Hyunjin’s ‘help’?

But it seemed like Chan was past the point of caring. Which Hyunjin couldn’t blame him for, really. If he were in charge of a member who couldn't perform his most basic function of keeping himself alive, he wouldn't be considerate of Felix’s feelings either.

He might even kick him out of the group.

Hyunjin gave a single, slow nod. “Sure. Text me when you find them.”

The relief on Chan’s face was immediate, his shoulders dropping from their tense hunch. “Okay. Yeah. I will. Thank you, Jin. I mean it.”

Hyunjin dismissed the gratitude with a slight shake of his head, already turning to walk away.

“Don’t thank me yet. Get the files first.”

He wasn’t doing this for Chan anyway. And definitely not for Felix, either.

═══════

The withdrawal was becoming more bearable.

The first week had been a special kind of hell. It started with the usual symptoms: a simmering agitation, an irrational annoyance at anyone in his vicinity, and a gnawing desire to seek out Felix. But it quickly morphed into something deeper, and harder to control — a profound, bone-deep exhaustion.

And Hyunjin should have expected it, really. After a lifetime spent in the void of his own mind, the sudden spark that had activated his cells was bound to be addictive. The crash was inevitable. He’d known he was pushing too far, too fast, and in doing so, he’d scared Felix off completely.

Which was, undoubtedly, not the best decision.

He didn’t regret it, though. Not when his actions had finally exposed Felix’s most carefully guarded emotion… a raw, unmistakable desire.

Hunger.

Because it felt electrifying. Like his whole body was awake. And not just his body, his mind, too.

For the first time, he felt completely and undeniably present, tethered to the moment, his body so in tune with Felix’s that he could finally, actually breathe.

If he had just known early on that Felix desired him, he would have been way more careful testing Felix’s other emotions, ike fear, hope, frustration, handling them with kid gloves so Felix’s desire would still be accessible to him.

They would have been living in a different reality right now.

But a flicker of attraction wasn’t enough to overcome the history of fear he’d instilled. And the only real option he had now was to step back, to give Felix all the space he needed. To make himself less threatening and keep distance as much as possible, trying to let Felix see that he was safe to be around.

Which was painful and mentally taxing, but it was necessary. Still, it drained him of every bit of energy he had to give.

Now, in London, with their schedules overflowing, the emptiness was finally starting to feel more manageable. He wasn’t constantly sour, and he could hold a conversation without being annoyed at a bandmate for asking a simple question. So, when Jisung texted him at two in the morning, complaining he couldn’t sleep and asking to hang out, Hyunjin didn’t refuse like he usually would.

Sure. The door’s unlocked.

Jisung appeared minutes later, offering a grateful nod before collapsing onto the bed. He immediately filled the silence, launching into a monologue as he complained about schedules, tour dates, and managers. Hyunjin half-listened from the sofa in the corner, his sketchbook open on his lap, one leg crossed over the other as his pencil moved across the page.

Jisung didn’t seem to mind the lack of engagement. He talked until he ran out of energy, eventually settling into a bored silence, scrolling through his phone while sprawled on his stomach across the mattress.

But it didn’t last long.

“We should watch something,” Jisung announced, not looking up from his screen.

Hyunjin didn’t glance up from his sketch, outlining the lilies. “Like what?”

“Dunno. A sci-fi movie.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Do you even watch sci-fi?”

“Isn’t Avengers sci-fi?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never watched Marvel before.”

Jisung looked at him, his gaze judgmental, as if Hyunjin had confessed to never brushing his teeth. “Seriously? What do you even watch, then?”

Hyunjin’s pencil stilled. What did he watch? He could barely remember. “The last movie I saw was probably… More than Blue. I don’t remember when.”

“That tragic romance? Wow. Okay, there’s no fixing you, my guy,” Jisung said, pausing before his eyes lit up with an idea. “Hey, do you mind if I call Binnie up?”

Hyunjin looked up. “Would he be awake?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s always like this after a big show abroad, I swear,” Jisung said, the words so fast that Hyunjin could barely understand him. “So? Do you mind it?”

“If you give me your room key, I don’t.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need my key?”

Hyunjin scoffed. Was it not obvious? “If you both fall asleep in here, where am I supposed to go, Jisung?”

Rolling his eyes, Jisung twisted around to dig into his pocket. He pulled out his keycard and tossed it onto the table near Hyunjin. “Fine, fine. Just don’t mess with my stuff, especially my laptop!”

Hyunjin pocketed the key without a word and returned to his drawing. The sound of Jisung’s frantic texting filled the room again. Time stretched in a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft scratch of pencil on paper. Just as Jisung was about to say something else, a soft knock came at the door before it swung open.

Changbin stood there, looking rumpled and tired, but he held a small plastic bag in each hand. “You called for a snack delivery?”

“Hyung!” Jisung scrambled off the bed, his boredom instantly forgotten. “You’re a lifesaver, hyung! What did you get?”

“Just some chips and soda from the vending machine. Don’t get too excited.” Changbin’s eyes drifted to Hyunjin on the sofa. “You drawing, Jin?”

Hyunjin gave a noncommittal hum as a response.

Changbin didn’t pay him much more attention, dumping the snacks onto the bed before sitting down on the mattress, the bed dipping with his weight. Jisung immediately grabbed the remote, and after a brief debate they settled on one of Jisung’s recommended sci-fi movies. The opening credits began to roll, casting a bluish glow across the dark room.

And surprisingly, Hyunjin didn’t mind the noise at all. They weren’t that loud, either. They just munched on their snacks, sitting quietly on his bed, whose covers he’d probably have to change when they left. But it wasn’t a big deal. The noises actually helped him concentrate on his task better.

Hyunjin continued sketching, tuning out the sounds of the movie and their quiet voices overlapping it. Twenty minutes passed, and then Jisung’s phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand. He picked it up, his face lighting up with a soft smile as he typed a reply.

A moment later, he looked over at Hyunjin. “Hey, man.”

“Yes?” Hyunjin didn’t bother looking up, his pencil still moving.

“You don’t mind if Yongbok comes in too? He just texted me. Says he can’t sleep either.”

Hyunjin’s pencil stilled immediately.

Why would Felix… unless he didn’t know Hyunjin was in the room, too?

“Does he know I’m here?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral.

“I told him that already. So can he come?”

Interesting.

Felix, knowing full well he was here, was still choosing to come. But it made sense, didn’t it? He probably wasn’t ready for a one-on-one conversation, but he could manage his discomfort within the safety of a group.

Felix was testing his own boundaries. Which was commendable, really.

“Sure.” Hyunjin paused, then looked up, his eyes meeting Jisung’s. “Just tell him to bring me coffee.”

“Which one?”

“Anything he wants. Just no sugar.”

Jisung nodded, typing on his phone. “Sure, sure. He’s on his way.”

He went back to the movie, and Hyunjin went back to his sketchbook, finishing the roses he’d drawn, but his movements were less focused now. He counted the seconds in his head, listening past the movie’s soundtrack for the sound of footsteps in the hall or the chime of the elevator. He heard neither.

After mere minutes that dragged out endlessly, finally, a soft, hesitant knock broke the silence. It was so quiet it was almost swallowed by the room.

Knock. Knock.

Hyunjin’s eyes snapped to the door.

“Come in!” Jisung called.

The door opened slowly, and Felix peeked in. He was dressed in soft sweats and a hoodie, his face bare and his hair slightly messy.

Hyunjin eyed him, noticing the stiffness of his body and the defensive hunch of his shoulders. He was clearly uncomfortable.

Was this an impulsive decision? Of course it was. And he was probably already regretting it, too.

Felix looked around the room, holding a steaming paper cup in one hand. His eyes first landed on Jisung and Changbin on the bed, then flicked, almost nervously, to Hyunjin on the sofa.

Felix’s eyes widened immediately as their gazes met, as if he were surprised to find him in his own room.

Hyunjin raised a brow at him, silently asking, What did you expect?

But the moment didn’t last long. Jisung raised his hand, a big smile on his face.

“Hey, Lix!” he exclaimed, waving him in. “Good timing. Come here!”

Felix forcibly dragged his gaze away from Hyunjin to offer Jisung a visibly strained smile. He closed the door, took a quiet, measured breath, and instead of taking refuge on the bed, he walked toward the sofa, where Hyunjin was. Each step was carefully measured, almost soundless, like he was approaching a skittish, wild animal.

Hyunjin felt a small, involuntary smile tug at his lips.

What did Felix think he was going to do, really? Spring from the seat and devour him whole?

Felix finally stopped a respectful distance away, his focus fixed somewhere on the coffee table. He cautiously extended the paper cup to him. “Here,” he said, his voice quiet. “Han said you wanted this.”

Hyunjin didn’t immediately take it. He let the moment stretch, cataloging every flicker of unease on Felix’s averted face. His jaw was tight, and his nostrils were flared, acting like the coffee he was holding was actually a ticking bomb.

Just as Felix was getting visibly irritated by standing there for longer than necessary, Hyunjin slowly reached out. His fingers deliberately brushed against Felix’s as he took the warm cup, keeping the contact brief but intentional.

And almost immediately, Felix’s eyes snapped to him, even wider than before. He pulled his hand back as if lightly shocked.

Hyunjin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud.

“Thank you, Felix,” he said, his voice low. He held Felix’s startled gaze as he slowly brought the cup to his lips and took an unhurried, deliberate sip.

Felix’s eyes dropped immediately. And before Hyunjin could take a clear glimpse of the flush creeping up his neck, he turned and quickly moved to the bed, settling himself between Jisung and the headboard. Almost instantly, Changbin shifted, wrapping his arms around Felix’s middle in a loose, comforting hug from behind, anchoring him.

Hyunjin let out a quiet, amused huff of air, turning back to his sketchbook.

How childish.

“What are we watching?” he heard Felix ask, his voice slightly muffled by Jisung’s shirt.

“Lucy! Have you seen it before?” Jisung asked.

“I don’t think so, no. What is it about?”

“It’s so good. A girl activates one hundred percent of her brain. Do you want me to start it over…?”

“No, no. It’s fine. What’s happening now?”

As Jisung launched into an explanation about how the main character was just drugged, Felix didn’t interrupt, listening with interest.

Hyunjin didn’t pay them much mind, keeping his focus on his drawings, careful not to do anything that might startle Felix further. He pulled out his phone, found a reference image, and began sketching something new, his eyes flicking between the screen and the page continuously.

An hour passed, and the room was remarkably silent, even with the movie playing in the background. The only sounds were the low murmurs from the screen, the rhythmic scratch of Hyunjin’s pencil against the paper, and the deep, even breaths coming from the bed. Jisung would light up periodically, commenting on the scene, and Changbin would laugh when no one else did, but as time passed, even their voices began to fade.

And Hyunjin didn’t break the silence either. He sat on the sofa, legs crossed, his back hunched as he drew a complex image on the paper. It was an impossibly detailed image of a landscape whose reference he found online. He was careful, his movements minimal and quiet, only moving excessively to sip on his coffee.

But, as another hour bled away, he felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

He yawned, his eyes feeling gritty, and checked his phone. It was 5:07 a.m.

Which was a lot. Had he been sitting there for three hours? He didn’t even feel the time passing by.

He looked up, checking if others were still awake. Changbin was entirely out cold, slumped awkwardly against the headboard, his arms still loosely looped around a sleeping Jisung, who was barely clinging to consciousness, his eyelids fluttering with exhaustion as he watched the final, quiet moments of the movie.

The only one still truly awake was Felix. He was curled on his side, his head propped on his hand. His eyes were open, but heavy with exhaustion, their focus hazy as he watched the screen.

Hyunjin stood up then, his joints protesting. And immediately, he felt a gaze snap to him, sharp and alert. He didn’t need to look to know who it belonged to.

How funny. Even barely conscious, Felix was still on high defense, tracking Hyunjin’s every move as if Hyunjin were a threat to his existence.

He didn’t pay attention to it, stretching his arms high above his head, working out the kinks in his back before gathering his sketchbook and pencils and putting them back into his bag. He never glanced Felix’s way, even if the skin on his back prickled under the kid’s gaze.

Finally, he walked to the door, each step measured and light on the carpet. With his hand on the cool metal of the knob, he let his gaze drift back one last time, looking over the slumped forms of his bandmates. And it inevitably landed on Felix, who was now watching him openly, no longer pretending to be distracted by the rolling credits. In the dim, bluish light, his expression was bare of its usual defensiveness, filled only with a deep, weary curiosity.

Hyunjin’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

“Good night, Felix,” he said, his voice soft.

He pulled the door open, stepped through, and closed it behind him with a quiet click. But in the split second before he fully closed the door, he could have sworn he saw the faintest flicker of disappointment cross Felix’s tired face.

═══════

Hyunjin was being watched.

Days had passed since Felix had come into his room that night, and ever since, Hyunjin had become aware of a constant pressure of someone’s eyes on him. It happened during work, in rehearsal, in the corridors of the hotels. It wasn't a casual glance, either. This was different. This was observation.

Felix was studying him like a lab rat, and he wasn't even trying to be subtle about it.

The first time it happened was in the hotel lounge. It was barely six a.m., the sky outside dark and stormy. He was unable to sleep after waking in the middle of the night, so he went to the lounge, sinking into a worn leather armchair after making himself a cup of coffee. There was barely anyone there except him and the hotel staff, so the room was mostly silent save for the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional clink of a cup from the coffee station.

Hyunjin was reading through a forgotten magazine from the side table, the book open in his lap, turning the pages without really seeing them.

An hour must have slipped by before he lifted his head to stretch the stiffness from his neck. And immediately after glancing up, he noticed him.

Felix.

He stood near the entrance, a cap pulled low over his eyes, a hoodie zipped to his chin. His hair stuck out in the back as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He froze for a second when he saw Hyunjin looking back, that familiar, tell-tale jolt giving his unease away. And Hyunjin expected Felix to avoid him, maybe act like he was searching for a lost item, or show sudden interest in the vending machine down the hall. Like he usually would.

But that day, Felix hesitated. He just stood there, his gaze fixed on Hyunjin for a moment too long.

Hyunjin looked back at him, his head tilted and eyes curious. But after a minute of Felix standing frozen in the entrance, he sighed and returned to his magazine, assuming Felix wanted the space to himself. He read the same paragraph three times, the words barely registering.

When he glanced up again twenty minutes later, convinced the kid had gone away, he couldn't stop a brow from lifting in surprise.

Because Felix was still there. He had chosen a chair at a respectable distance, not close enough for conversation, not far enough to be coincidental. He had his phone in hand, thumb scrolling slowly, acting like he had something to do. But then, as if pulled by a string, his eyes flicked up and immediately collided with Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin saw the instant his pupils dilated, and then how he grimaced. Like he had been caught.

Hyunjin didn’t move, his gaze questioning.

What do you want?

Hyunjin hadn’t done anything suspicious for what seemed like an eternity, so the attention was more than unwarranted. And it wasn't like Felix would find something new by watching him now, when he wasn’t doing anything to begin with.

He held Felix’s gaze, his own curious and steady. After a long moment, he dropped his eyes back to the magazine, deliberately turning a page. The rustle of paper was sharp in the quiet room.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Felix shift in his chair, seemingly uncomfortable. But he didn’t leave his spot. For the next thirty minutes, Hyunjin felt the weight of his gaze, but he never looked up, and didn’t call him out on his stalkerish behavior, either, giving Felix all the freedom to observe him.

And as Felix eventually left the lounge, Hyunjin thought this was it. Felix might be satisfied now, when he kept Hyunjin under watch and probably realized that he wasn’t a threat.

But it didn’t stop there.

A day later, Eunji called a meeting. She directed them into a sterile, rented conference room that reeked of the smell of cleaners. The lighting was aggressively bright, bouncing off the large, polished table. Eunji stood at the head, with the TV behind her, which was showing the screen of her laptop as she explained some changes in their schedules and added events, due to many companies requesting a collaboration with the band.

“...so the soundcheck for the next show is pushed back by forty-five minutes, which means the concert will now be at…”

Thirty minutes in, and Eunji was still discussing the same thing. Hyunjin had long since stopped listening, and he was sure everyone else was doing the same, too.

He slumped in his chair, rolling a black pen slowly between his fingers. The plastic made a soft, rhythmic click… click… against the silver of his rings. Next to him, Changbin was on the verge of sleeping, his head propped on his fist, eyes glazed over. Jisung was playing a game on his phone under the table.

“But this doesn’t mess with the photoshoot, right?” Chan asked, his voice soft but tired. He was the only one still trying to keep track.

“No, it just means you’ll have less break time between,” Eunji reassured, clicking to the next page of her document, which looked like a copy-pasted version of the last.

That’s when Hyunjin felt it. A familiar warm prickle on the side of his face.

He let out a sigh of frustration.

What now?

He didn’t look up immediately, giving Felix time to look away. He finished the rotation of the pen, then let his eyes drift casually across the table, keeping his gaze casual and non-threatening.

And there he was. Felix, slouched in his chair, arms crossed. His head was tilted toward the big screen, as if he were paying attention, but his eyes were pointed downward, locked onto Hyunjin’s hands. He was watching the pen as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Hyunjin let the pen go still, cupping it in his palm.

For a moment, nothing happened. Felix’s gaze remained locked on his now-motionless hand. Then, as if sensing the change, his eyes jerked upward, straight into Hyunjin’s waiting gaze.

The connection lasted less than a second, but Felix’s eyes widened, a flush blooming instantly high on his cheeks. He wrenched his head away so violently he almost flinched, staring fixedly at the TV as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Hyunjin looked back down at his own hands. He slowly, deliberately, began rolling the pen again. Click… click… click.

“Any other questions?” Eunji finally asked. A collective, muffled “No” echoed around the table.

As they began walking out of the room, Jisung slung an arm around a still-flustered Felix. “Lixie! Do you want to come with me? Me and Binnie-hyung wrote lyrics for the new song. Don’t you wanna see it?”

“Oh…” Felix mumbled, his voice tight. “Yeah, sure.”

Hyunjin was still in the room, collecting his things at a leisurely pace. He could feel the weight of a gaze from the doorway, brief but burning, before it disappeared into the hall.

And finally, Hyunjin allowed himself to smile.

He knew it was just a matter of time, really.

═══════

“Good, good, one more, hold it!” the photographer called, camera clicking in the dark room.

Hyunjin did as he was told, sitting still on the chair, his face neutral as he looked straight at the camera pointed directly at him. Behind him, Jeongin tightened his grip on his shoulders, and Hyunjin could imagine the expression on his face with clarity: the intense gaze, and the practiced smile, all which screamed exhaustion and the eagerness to go back to his bed.

And Hyunjin didn’t blame him for it, not really. He wished for the same as well.

It had been a long day. The morning started with two interviews, a grueling three-hour rehearsal to tighten the choreography for the new setlist, and now, a late-night photoshoot in a studio. The concept was ‘office elegance’, and Hyunjin along with Jeongin, Chan, and Minho, had been holding poses in tailored suits for what felt like days.

“Maybe one more and we’ll have a break! You guys are doing so well!” The photographer shouted from his spot yet again, in the same broken Korean mixed with English as he gave them a wide grin.

Hyunjin heard Jeongin sigh behind him with relief.

“Okay! Ayen, I want you closer to Hyunjin! No, more! A bit more… Good. Now, look at the camera!”

Hyunjin’s jaw twitched, restraining the urge to lean away from Jeongin as he felt the younger’s breath ghosting on his skin. The camera clicked so many times that it was getting hard to keep up with it.

Just as he felt every bit of his patience leaving his body, the photographer called again.

“Okay! Fantastic! You guys are free now,” he said, and then gestured at Chan and Minho, who were waiting right at the corner of the room. “It’s your turn. Come in, please!”

As the stylist rushed over to pat the shine from Chan’s forehead, Hyunjin stood up, rolling his stiff shoulders, and stepped out of the photoshoot scene, Jeongin walking beside him.

He found Iseul soon enough, who was typing furiously on her phone near the lighting rig.

“Noona, is there a resting area here?” he asked, his voice rough with disuse.

She glanced up, pointing a pen toward the door. “They have a canteen down the hall. Just take the elevator to the second floor, and then turn left. It should still be open, I think.”

Hyunjin nodded his thanks, walking out of the suffocating studio with quick steps. And when he finally made it to the canteen, he took the nearest chair available, sinking into it heavily, bone-exhausted. Jeongin collapsed into the seat opposite him, his body slumping against the chairback with a soft thud.

“How long is this gonna take?” he groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his closed eyelids. “Are all foreign photoshoots this slow?”

“Seems like it,” Hyunjin replied, his voice flat.

Jeongin let out another dramatic sigh, unlocking his phone. The screen’s bright light illuminated his tired face. “It’s nearly nine, hyung. We’ve been stuck here for three hours and it’s not even over.”

Hyunjin drew a slow breath, Jeongin’s complaints starting to grate against his already frayed nerves. He remained silent, and Jeongin seemed to take the hint, his chatter dying down as his eyes scanned the nearly empty room.

“Hey, I’ll get soda from here. You want something?”

“No.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, pushing himself up. He’d barely turned toward the vending machines when he paused, a mischievous glint brightening his eyes as he looked back. “Hey, hyung.”

Hyunjin lifted his head slowly, his gaze narrowing. “What?”

“A pretty girl was looking at you.”

“Who?”

“You didn’t see her? The assistant, hyung! She was definitely looking at you. And she seemed your age, too.” A sly smile spread across his face. “Maybe you should talk to her when we go back in. How long are you gonna stay single, anyway?”

This little shit.

Hyunjin took a breath in, willing himself to not lose his cool. “If you don’t fuck right off, Ayen…”

“I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking! She was super pretty, too!”

As Hyunjin began to rise, his expression darkening into a snarl, Jeongin took a few quick steps backward, chuckling. “Okay, okay! I was just saying!” He retreated hurriedly to the vending machine. After a minute passed, Jeongin spoke again, but his voice this time was directed at the machine’s plastic front as his soda clunked into the tray. “But, hyung, think about it this way-”

“No.”

“Just hear me out! She’s obviously successful, she was wearing Chanel, hyung! so maybe-”

“Shut up.”

Jeongin laughed, seemingly unbothered. He grabbed his soda from the machine and returned to the table, wisely choosing not to press the issue further. They sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the break, the quiet barely broken with audible gulps and the sounds of videos playing on Jeongin’s phone as he sipped his drink.

The break ended as soon as it began. Both of them received a notification with a message from their manager, so they had to go back to the studio. Hyunjin dragged himself from the chair, waiting for Jeongin to throw away his empty can, and, within minutes, they were taking an elevator to the fifth floor.

Inside the room, Chan and Minho were still standing still against the dark backdrop as the photographer complimented them loudly, “Yes. Beautiful! Minho, put your hand on his shoulder, please. Look at the camera, Chan!”

Iseul noticed them coming in, and she walked toward them, an apologetic smile on her lips. “Hey. I’m sorry, but you have to wait for a bit. I thought it was your time again, but apparently not.”

“It’s no big deal, noona. How long should we wait?” Jeongin asked, his voice soft.

“Maybe ten minutes? I’ll ask him.” Iseul went to the photographer, her smile polite as she questioned him. The photographer answered her, and she went back to them with the same apologetic expression on her face. “Ten to fifteen minutes. I’m sorry again.”

“It’s okay. We’ll wait,” Jeongin reassured her, and Hyunjin gave her a nod, making a beeline to a folding chair in the dim corner, sinking into it with a quiet sigh. He pulled out his phone, creating a small, quiet space of solitude.

But it didn’t last long.

Merely a minute later, he sensed a presence before someone coughed to get his attention.

He looked up slowly, seeing the woman Jeongin had pointed out earlier. She was indeed pretty, with sharp, elegant features and a single blonde braid draped over her shoulder. She held her phone in both hands like a shield.

Hyunjin took a deep breath in, already at his wit’s end.

Not this shit again.

"Excuse me," she began in careful English. When Hyunjin simply looked at her, she quickly played a translated phrase from her phone. The robotic Korean voice said, “I was wondering if you needed help with anything?"

"No, thank you," Hyunjin replied in Korean, his voice even.

The app translated his response in English, and after hearing it, she nodded, smiling at him. But she didn't leave. She typed again, and the translator spoke for her. "Can I have your signature? I’m a big fan of Stray Kids.”

Hyunjin gave a curt nod. She handed him a small notebook and a pen from her blazer pocket. As he took it, he caught Jeongin’s eye across the room, and he was watching them with a slight, amused smile on his face. But when he saw that Hyunjin noticed him, he turned away, pretending to be interested in a monitor nearby.

Scrawling his signature, Hyunjin went to hand the book back. But the woman didn’t take it. Instead, the robotic voice spoke again as she looked at him with a warm smile. "Thank you. I was wondering if you can give me your number?"

"What do you need my number for?"

The app repeated his words in English, and his jaw tightened, nerves flaring. He waited for her to type out her response, trying his best to remain calm.

"I was hoping that while you’re here, we can connect?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not interested."

"I understand that," she pressed, her confidence unwavering. "But I was hoping we could just talk? Get coffee?"

Hyunjin held the notebook out until she was forced to take it back. "That won't be possible.”

Her lip curled in dissatisfaction after she heard the translation of his words. She clearly wasn’t used to being told ‘no’. "Please, one coffee? I know a quiet place. No one would have to know."

"The answer is no."

"But-"

This time, he did look up at her, holding eye contact. "Ma’am, you are at your job," he stated slowly, as if speaking to a child. "I am at mine. Please, leave."

Her face flushed a deep, mortified red after she heard the robotic voice repeating what he said in her mother tongue. She typed out a response quickly, hurrying to get a point across. “I’m sorry if it came out rude! I just wanted to get to know-“

He didn’t let her finish, now responding in English. “Ma’am.”

Her fingers stilled over her phone immediately. She looked at him, truly looked, and whatever she saw in his expression made her shoulders slump in defeat. She snapped her mouth shut, gave a tight, jerky nod, and turned on her heel.

As she walked away, he heard her mutter something under her breath. "Asshole."

Hyunjin sighed, going back to his phone.

How many times could this happen? And why him, out of all people? Did Hyunjin look that much like a cheap whore?

He didn’t dwell on his frustration, going back to his phone, the incident already filed away and forgotten. A few minutes later, the photographer's voice cut through the low hum of the studio.

"Right! That's a wrap for Chan and Minho. Beautiful. Hyunjin, Ayen, back on set, please. Let's get these shots and call it a night."

The rest of the session passed in a blur. They held their poses, shifting their expression on the command. The constant flash of the camera left spots in his vision. Hyunjin caught the assistant glaring at him, even whispering something to another woman as she looked at him with disdain, but he ignored her, trying his best to do as the photographer said so he could leave.

And, after what seemed like an eternity, the photographer clapped his hands and called it a day. "Excellent work, everyone. Thank you for your time. Get some rest!"

Hyunjin saw Iseul walking toward the photographer, probably to question him, but he stepped out of the scene, collecting his stuff before leaving the studio altogether, his steps hurried.

The van ride back to the hotel was silent, heavy with the kind of exhaustion that made conversation with Jeongin, who was sitting right beside him and showing him a video on his phone, feel like a physical effort. Hyunjin leaned his head against the cool window, watching the streetlights of the city smear past.

When he finally made it into the comfort of his own room, he didn't even bother with the lights. He moved on autopilot. He peeled off the day's clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and stepped into the shower. After enough time to take care of his basic hygiene, he pulled on soft sweatpants and walked back to his bed, laying down on the mattress, getting ready to sleep.

But, of course, someone had to bother him.

His phone buzzed.

He peeled his lids open, annoyance pooling deep in his gut.

Not now, he thought, trying to go to sleep, but his phone didn’t stop buzzing as someone called him.

He groaned, fumbling for it on the nightstand. The screen glowed brightly in the dark room. Chan hyung.

With a deep sigh, he swiped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear. "Yes?"

Chan immediately responded, although his tone lacked its usual enthusiasm, heavy with fatigue. “Hey, Jin… Oh, were you sleeping?”

Hyunjin let out a sound of frustration. What did Chan expect, really? “I’m surprised you weren’t, hyung.”

“I’m not in the hotel right now, so…”

“Where are you?”

“Noona had a couple things to discuss with me in private,” Chan answered, sighing. “You’re in your room?”

“Yeah. Do you need something?”

There was a pause, and then Chan spoke again, his tone weary. “Minho texted me that he caught Lix throwing up, and asked me to come down, but I can’t right now,” he explained slowly. “Can you check on them, please?”

Hyunjin ran a hand down his face, the last dregs of sleep evaporating. He pushed himself up from the bed, his muscles screaming in protest.

"Where are they?"

"In Felix's room. You know the number, right?"

“Yeah,” Hyunjin said, grabbing his discarded shirt from the chair. “I’ll go, don’t worry.”

Chan let out a breath of relief. “Okay, thank you, Jinnie. Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s alright. Bye, hyung.”

He ended the call, placing the phone back on the drawer before he slipped his shirt on and left the room.

The hallway was silent and overly bright, the air conditioning a dull hum. Room 605 was just a short walk down the carpeted corridor. As he approached, he could hear the raised voices through the door, specifically Minho's, strained and angry.

He didn't bother knocking, simply pushing the door open.

And the scene was… chaotic, to say the least.

Minho was pacing a short, angry path in front of the bed, running a hand through his hair. Felix was sitting on the edge of the mattress, looking small and utterly defeated, his gaze locked on the floor.

"...do you have any idea what it's like to see you like this?" Minho was saying, his voice cracking with a mix of anger and concern. "I tried my best to be patient with you. But I came back here and-"

"I'm fine," Felix muttered, the words barely audible.

"You're not fine! You're sick, and I just heard you-" Minho cut himself off, taking a sharp breath as if to steady himself. "Yongbok-ah, you have to eat. You can't run on nothing. This isn't sustainable."

"I ate," Felix insisted, his voice gaining a brittle edge. He still refused to look up, his fists clenching and unclenching on his knees.

"Does it even matter if you throw it all up? Let me order you some soup, something easy-"

"I don't want soup!" Felix snapped, his head jerking up for a second before looking down again, a flush of shame and anger coloring his neck. "Just... stop. Please."

"I can't just stop!" Minho's patience finally snapped. He stopped pacing and stood directly in front of Felix, his voice dropping into something low and intense. "Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I enjoy being the hyung who has to nag you about every single meal? I'm trying to help you!"

The room fell silent for a beat, the tension so thick it was hard to breathe. Felix's shoulders were trembling slightly. He slowly lifted his head, and when he spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet, each word dripping with a resentment that had clearly been festering.

"I never asked for your help, hyung!"

Hyunjin raised a brow, looking at Felix with surprise.

Who would have thought Felix had that in him, really.

Minho was equally as surprised, it seemed. He took a step back, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated shock. He stared at Felix, his mouth slightly agape, completely speechless for a moment before his own hurt twisted into something sharper.

"Yongbok," he said, his voice dangerously low. "Is that what you think this is? After everything, you're going to stand there and call me a nuisance? I'm here because I care about you, and that’s how you thank me?"

It was time to intervene.

"Hyung."

Hyunjin's voice cut through the rising tension, calm and flat. Both Minho and Felix flinched, turning to see him leaning against the doorframe as if he'd been there for hours.

Minho's eyes flashed. "This doesn't concern you, Hyunjin."

"You’re tired, hyung. Get some sleep. I'll handle it."

Minho let out a short, bitter laugh. "Handle it? Do you actually believe-"

Hyunjin let out a sigh of frustration, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion.

“Shouting at him isn’t working. Go back to your room.”

Minho took a breath in. He ran a hand over his tired face. He looked at Felix again, his expression a complex mix of hurt, frustration, and lingering worry.

“I’m sorry for shouting, Lix, but I’m just worried. You can’t go on like this… I-“

Felix stirred from his spot, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s okay, I understand. But … Please, leave me alone.”

"Fine," he bit out, heading for the door. He paused next to Felix, his voice dropping to a whisper, though the pain in it was unmistakable. "I’ll see you later. Please, take care of yourself, Lix."

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Immediately, silence fell into the room, broken only by the faint, shaky rhythm of Felix’s breathing. He remained on the edge of the bed, hunched in defeat while his expression showed nothing but frustration and anger.

Hyunjin stood by the door, watching him. He didn't speak, giving Felix time to calm down.

Time passed. The silence stretched with it, thick and suffocating, and when Felix offered nothing, not even a glance, Hyunjin let out a quiet, weary sigh and stepped further into the room.

"Have you brushed your teeth?"

Felix’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing with fresh irritation. "I don't have the energy for you today, Hyunjin. If you aren't leaving, please, at least be quiet."

"So you haven't?" Hyunjin repeated, unfazed.

Felix looked away, his jaw tightening. The lack of an answer was confirmation enough.

But he didn’t move at all. And in two swift strides, Hyunjin was in front of him. He gripped Felix’s upper arm, his grasp firm, and pulled him to his feet.

"Get off me!" Felix snapped, trying to wrench his arm away, but Hyunjin just held him tighter in response, tugging him toward the bathroom.

"Why are you angry?" Hyunjin kept his voice calm as he pulled him through the doorway. "This is your fault."

"My fault?" Felix spat, the words laced with rage. He finally managed to pull free, and then spun around immediately, his back nearly hitting the doorframe, his chest rising and falling as he held eye contact with him.

"Who else is acting like a suffering saint and gets angry when people treat him like one?" Hyunjin held his gaze, his eyes narrowing. "What did you expect, really? For them to just watch you starve yourself and applaud your dedication?"

"You think I want this? I never asked for any of this! I always-"

"Does it matter?" Hyunjin cut him off. "You’re in a group. Your actions affect others. Not everything is about you, Felix."

Felix stared at him, his eyes wide. And after a moment, the fight seemed to drain out of him, leaving behind a hollowed-out exhaustion. The anger in his gaze was nearly gone, replaced by a profound, weary shame.

Hyunjin picked up the toothbrush from the counter, squeezed toothpaste onto it, and held it out. "Brush your teeth."

For a long moment, Felix just looked at the offered toothbrush. Then, with a slow, defeated movement, he took it. His shoulders slumped as he turned to the sink, staring down at it like it might save him.

Hyunjin watched as Felix mechanically brushed his teeth, the movements slow and devoid of energy. When he was done, he rinsed his mouth and placed the toothbrush back in its holder.

Hyunjin gave a single, curt nod.

"Go to bed. It’s late."

But Felix didn't move. He stood by the sink, his hands braced on the cool metal, his eyes searching Hyunjin's face in the mirror. The silence stretched, filled only by the drip of the water.

"Do you think I'm ungrateful?" Felix asked quietly, his voice barely there.

The answer came without hesitation.

"Yes."

The bluntness made Felix flinch, but he didn't look away. "But... I appreciate everyone. I always did,” he said, pausing. He stared down at the sink, continuing with a quieter voice. “I know how hard they're trying, but I just... I don't feel free. And when I get angry, they never... they never just accept it. It’s like I'm not allowed to be."

"Stop acting like a Saint Mary, and maybe they will," Hyunjin said, his tone flat.

Felix blinked. "Saint Mary?"

Hyunjin let out a short, tired sigh and turned away from the bathroom.

He wanted to go to sleep. The day was tiring enough already.

"Go to sleep, Felix."

He walked across the room then, not waiting for a response. His hand was on the door handle, about to step out of the room, but Felix stopped him.

"Hey, Hyunjin."

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Yes?"

Felix was still standing in the bathroom doorway, dwarfed in his oversized sleep shirt. "Thank you," he murmured, the words sincere, if heavy.

Hyunjin immediately caught the meaning underneath.

A slow, gentle smile touched Hyunjin's lips. "Anything for you, angel."

He saw the flush instantly bloom across Felix's cheeks and neck. Hyunjin let out a soft, quiet laugh and slipped out the door, closing it firmly behind him.

Chapter Text

“Stop acting like a Saint Mary, and maybe they will.”

Felix stared at the screen, controller held loosely in his hands. He couldn’t focus on the game, even though he begged Jisung to play it with him just an hour ago. His mind was flooded with thoughts of him.

No one in his life challenged him the way Hyunjin did. No one treated him the same way Hyunjin did, either. He made him face himself, constantly, with a pressure that felt like a gun pointed right to his head.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Felix looked down at the controller, and then back to the screen, and he tried his best to make his hands work, but his mind wasn’t on the same page, apparently.

It kept replaying the same thing. Over and over again.

Like how Hyunjin had pointed out that Felix only wanted his body, even before Felix had fully admitted it to himself. The way Hyunjin drilled him in practice, never giving a shit if Felix was too tired or not. The way Hyunjin could see every ugly truth Felix tried to hide, with just one look.

Hyunjin never pitied him. He never gave a fuck about him to begin with.

Felix took a breath in, willing himself to get a grip.

Because he wasn't stupid. He knew Hyunjin wasn't, by any common definition, a nice person. His ‘brutal honesty’ wasn't a virtue, and it never would be. He didn't offer truth out of kindness, but because he seemed to be incapable of basic human decency. Of being a good human being.

Felix doubted he would ever like him, really. Never as a person, at least…

But Hyunjin was the only one in the band, and in his personal life, who didn't think he was too broken to handle the truth. He believed Felix could, and should, withstand it.

Like a real adult should.

And Felix had never felt more conflicted about a person before.

“Lix, hey! Pay attention. You almost crashed the car!”

Felix blinked, the controller limp in his hands. “Oh… Sorry.”

Jisung waved it off, eyes fixed on the screen. “It’s okay. Just pay attention.” But it was too late. A box popped up with a ‘Game Over’ written on it in screaming red.

Jisung let out a huff, visibly frustrated. “You should make it up to me for that. We were on level twelve.”

“I will! I’m sorry, Sung.”

“It’s okay, I guess,” Jisung muttered, waving a dismissive hand. He paused the game and looked at Felix. “What’s up with you anyway?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on.”

Felix tried to find an excuse, but he couldn’t think of any. All he could say was, “I’m just tired, I guess.”

Jisung was obviously not buying it. But he shrugged, not pressing the issue further. “Whatever you say. Do you want a rematch?”

“Yeah.”

They played in silence for a few more rounds, the upbeat game music filling the room. Felix took a deep breath.

“Hey, Sung… can I ask you something? A hypothetical.”

Jisung’s car slowed down, letting Felix’s car zoom past. “Yeah, of course.”

“Let’s say… there’s this person.” Felix kept his eyes glued to the screen, his heart hammering. “And they’re… difficult. Extremely difficult.”

Jisung hummed. “Okay. Go on.”

“And this person… they see you. Like, really see you. I… Uh.. I don’t know how to explain it, but…” Felix paused, coughing. “… And instead of being nice about it, they just… point it all out. And they don’t give a shit if you like it or not.”

“Oh.” Jisung chuckled. “Doesn’t that sound romantic?”

Felix’s cheeks flushed, and Jisung grinned at him, like this was some entertainment for him. “Yeah, um…,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Anyway, this person offered me… a deal, I guess.”

“A deal?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s complicated but…”

“Hmm… So you like them?”

Felix sighed. Of course, that was the first thing Jisung thought of. “…It’s complicated.”

“Well, if you’re thinking of them, that must mean something.” Jisung shrugged. “What’s the deal?”

Felix hesitated, not knowing how to put it into words.

“It’s kind of … sexual.”

He expected surprise, but Jisung just chuckled, as if he’d known where this was going. “Oh, shoot. That’s cool.”

“It’s not, Sung.”

“But it is, though. Sex is the best way to resolve everything. He sounds like a smart guy, if you ask me.”

When did he… He didn’t mention anything about the gender, did he? “It’s not… Why do you think it’s a guy?”

“Just an assumption. So, what did you say?”

Felix looked down at his hands, gulping. “I didn’t say anything.”

“And you’re wondering if you should take him up on it?”

“Kind of. I don’t really know, to be honest. Part of me knows it’s probably a bad idea. This person isn’t…. He is just… He’s not suitable for me. He’s uncomfortable to be even around with.”

Jisung looked at him with a smile.

“But another part?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know.” Felix let out a sigh of frustration. “I was thinking that maybe this is what I need? Not him, obviously. But maybe agreeing will change things between us? And…” he paused, clicking his tongue. “I don’t know, really. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

He risked a glance at Jisung. The rapper had a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“So,” Jisung said, his tone teasing. “Is it Hyunjin?”

Felix’s controller nearly slipped from his grasp. “What? No!”

Jisung burst out laughing, pausing the game and turning fully to face him. “Oh, don’t lie! ‘Point out all flaws and don’t give a shit about it’? You just described Hyunjin’s entire brand, Lixie. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you’ve been looking at him these days. Do you think I’m blind?”

Felix felt his face grow hot with a mixture of embarrassment and relief. Was he that obvious? But then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. He could never hide his emotions that well. And deep down, he was glad he couldn’t.

At least he wasn’t alone now.

“Is it that obvious?” He asked, his cheeks flushed.

“To me? Yeah.” Jisung laughed, then patted him on his back, reassuring him. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do. Jin is, like you said, not really suitable for you. But…” He shrugged. “I don’t know, really. You only live once. If you want him, why shouldn’t you agree?”

“But is it a good idea?”

Jisung grinned, a flash of his usual mischief returning. “Probably not.”

Felix took a breath in. Of course. He shouldn’t even have asked that to begin with.

“So what should I do?” He pressed, his voice rougher than before.

Jisung just shrugged, and pulled away from him, turning his attention to the screen as he navigated the settings of the game. “I don’t know. It’s your decision to make, Lixie.”

Felix looked down at his lap, letting a brief moment of silence pass between them before he spoke again.

“I.. Uh… I was thinking about it, but… It’s just not a good idea. And I’m very picky with people I choose to… you know, sleep with… you know that.”

He wasn’t lying. He remembered how he mentioned it to Jisung long time ago, that he needed to feel emotionally connected to people for him to have sex with them, because after two one-night stands that just ended up with him feeling unsatisfied and empty, he realized that it wasn’t sex that made the experience pleasurable to him at all. He needed someone he empathized with, who he understood and found them predictable enough to trust them with his body.

And Hyunjin… Hyunjin was just horrible in that aspect. Even though he had proven himself to not be vile like Felix thought he was, it wasn’t enough for Felix to feel relaxed around him.

Hyunjin was the antithesis of everything he sought out in a partner.

Jisung looked at him for a second too long, his gaze thoughtful.

“Look. I’m gonna tell you a story. Do you wanna listen to it?” He asked.

“What is the story gonna do with-“

“It’s just a story, Lixie. You wanna listen to it or not?”

Felix let out a breath. “Sure. Okay.”

Jisung smiled at him, and he began, his voice more weighted now. “I had a crush on one girl in school. I don’t know if I mentioned her to you, but her name was Nari. And she hated my guts. Because I kind of bullied her, back when I was thirteen. I don’t know if I could be called a bully, to be honest, but…” he said, his cheeks heating up. “I definitely was now that I think of it.”

Felix looked at him skeptically. “You were?”

“Yeah. I was all for provoking people I liked. I just wanted their attention. But it wasn’t physical at all.” Jisung waved his hand, like it didn’t matter. “Well, whatever. So, one day I decided to just ask her to go out with me, because at that point I had nothing to lose anyway. I was very scared, but I still did it.”

“Did she-”

“She didn’t. She thought it was a prank. She told me not to talk to her anymore or she would tell the principal.”

"That's... not exactly a happy ending, Sung.”

Jisung shrugged. "It's not about the ending,” he said, and he looked at him, gesturing vaguely like he was trying to get a point across. “Think about it. I chose to face the thing that scared me because I didn’t want to regret not knowing. That would truly haunt me. The regret of trying is like nothing in comparison. Because at least you have an answer."

Felix looked away. “Oh.”

The words felt like an attack. Because I didn’t want to regret not knowing. That would truly haunt me.

Wasn't that exactly what was haunting him now? The question of what if.

Jisung chuckled, patting him on his back once again, his palm warm. "Yeah, oh." He nudged Felix's shoulder with his own. "Should we go back to the game?"

Felix’s thumb traced the seam of the controller. He wanted to ask more. But he didn’t know how to press without sounding desperate at all.

And finally, he spoke again. "Don't you think this is weird?"

Jisung paused the game again. "What is?"

"... Me and Hyunjin?"

Jisung tilted his head, a genuine look of confusion on his face. "No, why would I think that? Do I look like a homophobe to you?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Felix quickly clarified, his cheeks warming. "I just meant that… You know. We are bandmates."

"Why does it matter? You are both adults, aren't you?" Jisung shrugged. "As long as you set boundaries and don't let this get in the way of work, I don't see a reason why it's bad, really." He picked at a loose thread on his sweatpants, then looked back at Felix, his gaze suddenly way more thoughtful than before. "But now that I think of it, it's kind of weird. You're right."

"Why?"

"I thought Hyunjin was aroace."

"Aroace?"

"Yeah. Aromantic and asexual." Jisung leaned back, propping himself on his hands. "It's kind of weird that he offered you something like that." He paused, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Did he say why?"

"He just said that he was attracted to me."

A slow, thoughtful "...hmm," was Jisung's only response for a moment. He chewed on his bottom lip. "I guess that makes sense? Maybe you charmed him. But…" He shook his head, a faint frown appearing. "It's still kind of weird for him to offer you sex, not gonna lie. I have never ever seen that guy even look at anything sexual. He acts like the concept is beneath him."

It felt like a weight came off his chest. Because now he knew that Jisung noticed it, too. Felix wasn’t paranoid to doubt Hyunjin, was he? "I thought he was playing with me, too."

"Yeah, no shit. I would think the same." Jisung laughed, but it was a dry, humorless sound. "I guess he got bored and wants some relief? But-" He cut himself off, shaking his head again, more firmly this time. "That sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"… Yeah.”

Jisung was quiet for a second, contemplating what he was about to say.

"Just be careful, Bokkie." He finally spoke, his voice heavy, and for a second he looked wary, concerned. "His offer is kind of really weird. He has to have some reason for this, and the 'I'm attracted to you' kind of sounds dumb, to be honest. We've known him for how many years? And out of sudden he's attracted to you? And he told me you’re his favorite, too… Wow, sounds fishy as shit now that I think about it."

"I know, I know." Felix said, wrapping his arms around his knees, making himself smaller. "That’s why I said it wasn’t a good idea."

Jisung was silent for a second.

“Well... I don’t know what I should tell you, to be honest…” He finally said, smiling awkwardly to him. “Just go with your gut. And if that means choosing him, be careful. I don’t want you to hurt your feelings.”

Felix sighed. It seemed like Jisung couldn’t help him with making a choice. Which wasn’t Jisung's fault, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

Felix just wanted an answer. A simple yes or no.

"Okay," he murmured. "Thank you, Sung."

"No problem." Jisung picked up his controller, the subject clearly closed for now. "Should we go back? What level were we on?"

"Twelve, I think."

Jisung unpaused the game. The neon city sprang back to life, the roar of cars filling the room once more. But Felix's mind wasn't on the game at all.

He looked down at his hands, then back at the vibrant scene on the screen.

“Just go with your gut.”

It was easy enough to say. Felix wished he was carefree enough to take Jisung’s advice, but in reality, he was anything but. The attraction he felt toward Hyunjin was illogical, and every decision that would stem from his feelings would inevitably be illogical as well. Hyunjin may be authentic, but Felix wasn’t stupid enough to think that it made Hyunjin any more trustworthy as a person.

But what if… What if agreeing to the offer would help him understand why Hyunjin was interested in him in the first place? What was even his motive? Because, as Jisung said, Hyunjin’s attraction to him didn’t make any sense.

Felix immediately dismissed the idea. It just sounded like an excuse. Felix wasn’t about to play a detective just to figure out why Hyunjin wanted him. The reason couldn’t be that groundbreaking either. What could Hyunjin possibly want him for, really?

Felix sighed. It seemed his gut already knew what he wanted.

═════

Felix couldn’t stop staring at him.

Hyunjin was right there, beside him, his head against the window of the van as it moved to the airport for their upcoming flight to the US. His face was relaxed, his eyes shut, lashes dark against his cheeks. The early morning light caught on the sharp line of his jaw, the delicate slope of his nose.

What should I do? Why are you making this so difficult?

Felix’s eyes remained locked on Hyunjin’s face, transfixed. Minutes passed, and Hyunjin’s brow furrowed faintly, probably out of discomfort before it smoothed away again. The spell, however, was broken. Felix blinked, finally tearing his eyes away to stare down at his own hands clenched in his lap.

“Hey, Felix-ah. Can you pass me my charger there? It should be right behind you.”

Felix nearly jolted out of his skin, eyes wide as he looked at Changbin, who was watching him in the mirror from the front seat with a slight, warm smile on his face.

“Oh, yes. Sure,” Felix replied, turning just slightly, just as much as the tight space allowed. He searched for the charger blindly behind him, and he found it in mere seconds, handling it out to Changbin, his cheeks tinted pink. “Here, hyung.”

“Thank you, thank you.” Changbin laughed, taking it away from him and tucking it into the holder nearby. “Actually, I forgot to tell you earlier, but Lino said to come meet him before we take the flight. Do you have his number blocked, Bokkie? He couldn’t reach you.”

“Ah. No. I just…” Felix mumbled, not sure how to explain that he was ignoring his hyung because he didn’t want to talk to him after what happened two days ago. “I saw his texts, hyung. I will meet him, don’t worry.”

Felix saw in the mirror how Changbin's brow furrowed, visibly skeptical. “Are you two alright?”

“Yeah… It’s nothing serious, don’t worry about it.”

Changbin didn’t look like he was buying it, but he nodded anyway, not pressing the topic further. But Jeongin chimed in, sitting two seats away from him.

“Oh?” He grinned, looking at Felix. “How come Minho-hyung is mad at you? What did you do, Felix-ah?”

Felix dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “It’s nothing, really.”

“… Or you’re mad at him?”

“I’m not. It’s no big deal.”

“But-“

Seungmin pressed Jeongin back to his seat. “Stop pestering him.”

“Okay, okay. It’s just surprising.” Jeongin laughed. “Good luck with him, Felix-hyung.”

Felix nodded at him, mustering a smile. The van fell back into silence, only broken by the sounds of the streets and the game Changbin was playing on his phone from the front seat.

Felix grabbed his phone, too, trying to distract himself from the awareness of Hyunjin beside him. And it seemed to work, but after a few minutes, Hyunjin shifted slightly in his seat. It was a small movement, barely there to begin with, but it drew Felix’s eyes away from his phone nonetheless.

He looked at Hyunjin’s profile, cataloging every detail, even if he had seen them countless times before. The way his hair fell across his forehead, still damp from the rushed shower before they'd left. The exhaustion written into the shadows under his eyes…

Felix's gaze drifted lower.

Hyunjin's hand was resting on the seat between them, palm down, fingers slightly curled.

Elegant, even during rest. Even if he wasn’t doing anything.

Felix swallowed.

He stared at that hand, at the prominent knuckles, the long fingers, the blue-green veins beneath pale skin.

What if... Can I touch him?

The thought alone made his pulse jump.

He couldn’t remember a time when he initiated a contact with Hyunjin. Because admittedly, he never could. While he was a cuddly person by nature, Hyunjin was anything but.

He had never been comfortable with physical touch. Even with Jeongin, who he clearly favored, Hyunjin would still go quiet and still when the youngest touched him, enduring it for a moment before finding a reason to shift away. The most Felix had seen him touch anyone else was during choreos, but even then, he stayed professional, never lingering once the choreography allowed him to pull back.

Touch was something Hyunjin barely tolerated. But…

“Come to me whenever you want.”

Hyunjin offered him the opportunity himself. He should’ve expected Felix to touch him if he agreed to it.

What if…?

Would Hyunjin let him touch him? Could he test another boundary...?

He swallowed, his mouth dry, looking at the slender fingers.

His hand moved before the rational part of his brain could stop it, reaching across the small space between them. His fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over Hyunjin's knuckles, not quite touching them yet. His heart was hammering stupidly in his chest, as if he were about to do something dangerous.

Just once, he told himself. It’s not like he’s going to blow a fuse. We are in a van. The most he can do is pull away.

He let his fingertips ghost over Hyunjin's knuckles, the barest touch of contact. The skin there was warm, smooth over bone. Felix's eyes flicked to Hyunjin's face, breath caught in his throat, checking if Hyunjin reacted. But Hyunjin didn't stir. There was no flinch, no tension. He seemed to be asleep.

Felix exhaled shakily and let himself continue.

He traced the ridge of each knuckle with a feather-light touch, then drifted along the length of Hyunjin's fingers. They were longer than his own, more graceful... His fingers trembled as they followed the elegant lines, learning the map of them. His eyes were wide, fixed on where his skin barely touched Hyunjin's, like he was witnessing something sacred.

Slowly, carefully, Felix picked up Hyunjin's hand. It was heavier than he'd expected, warm and real in his palm, and-

"He's probably awake, Felix," Seungmin whispered behind him, sounding amused.

Felix jolted, eyes snapping to Hyunjin's face, panicked. But there was no reaction. Hyunjin's breathing remained even, his expression undisturbed.

He looked at Seungmin skeptically.

“Is he really?” He whispered.

“Yeah. I don’t think he can sleep while the car is driving,” he said, and then leaned closer, murmuring in his ear. “It’s probably better to let him go.”

Felix nodded, about to drop Hyunjin's hand and pretend this had never happened, when Hyunjin's fingers curled. They wrapped around Felix's, trapping him in place.

Hyunjin was awake.

Felix's heart kicked into a wild, erratic rhythm. His first instinct was to recoil, to yank his hand back and stammer out an apology, but he forced himself to breathe. In. Out. He stared at their hands, at Hyunjin's long fingers now laced loosely with his own.

He looked up to Hyunjin’s face then, but there were no changes there. His eyes flickered back to their interlaced fingers, bewildered.

He's letting me do this.

“Oh, well. Forget what I said.” Seungmin laughed, looking at their hands as well. He turned to Jeongin and whispered something in his ear, and the youngest chuckled, looking at Felix, grinning mischievously.

Felix didn’t pay much attention to them, keeping his hand still, barely breathing, waiting for the inevitable moment when Hyunjin would pull away.

A minute passed. Then five. And the moment never came.

Hyunjin's fingers stayed where they were, warm and loose around his.

The situation was absurd. Felix never thought that… Just months ago, he thought Hyunjin couldn’t even tolerate his presence, and the idea of touching him was ridiculous to even think about. But now, Hyunjin was allowing him. Hell, he was encouraging him, even.

So Felix, emboldened and slightly giddy with disbelief, began to explore.

He traced the back of Hyunjin's hand with his thumb, slow and wondering, his fingers tingling everywhere where Hyunjin’s hand made contact with his. He felt the delicate bones shift beneath skin as he pressed gently into the spaces between Hyunjin's knuckles. He ran his fingertips along each of Hyunjin's fingers, from base to tip, marveling at the length of them, the way they tapered so gracefully.

Hyunjin's hand was pliant in his, allowing everything.

Felix played with his fingers, bending them slightly, straightening them, lacing their fingers together and then unlacing them again, trying to see how far he could push before Hyunjin snapped. But Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind. He let Felix do everything, and he never spoke either, although it was obvious that he wasn’t asleep judging by the way he sat there, tensed, as if uncomfortable.

When the van finally slowed, rolling to a stop outside the airport terminal, Felix felt the shift immediately. Hyunjin's fingers twitched in his. Then, slowly, Hyunjin's eyes opened.

Felix’s heart leaped in his chest, watching Hyunjin look down at their fingers.

He began to explain. “Ah… I’m-“

Hyunjin stopped him, his voice rough from disuse. “It’s okay, Felix.”

But Felix was too panicked. He unlaced their fingers, showing his palms up, his eyes wide.

“I’m sorry. I just thought-”

“I said it’s okay.”

Felix gulped. “Are … Are you sure?”

Hyunjin just looked at him, visibly annoyed. “If it wasn’t okay, I would have told you.”

Felix gaped at him.

So would Hyunjin… Would Hyunjin allow him to touch him whenever? How could…

Felix's face burned. He couldn't look at Hyunjin, couldn't meet his eyes, so he stared at his own empty hand instead, which was still tingling with warmth.

The van doors opened. Everyone began shuffling out, voices rising as they grabbed bags and stretched stiff limbs.

Hyunjin walked out the van too, stretching his arms above his head. And when he looked down at Felix, who didn’t move an inch, he raised a brow, eyeing him. “What are you waiting for? Stand up.”

Felix stayed frozen in his seat, heart still racing, staring at the place where their hands had been.

“If it wasn’t okay, I would have told you.”

═════

Felix sat on the edge of the hotel bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight, his bare feet pressing into the worn carpet. The new hotel room in LA was modern, silent, and empty compared to the previous ones they had in Europe, and the darkness of the night didn’t help either. The only sound in the room was the faint, mechanical drone of the air conditioner pushing cool air across his skin and the distant murmur of city traffic seeping through the sealed window.

His luggage was unpacked, forgotten somewhere in the corner of the room, and Felix couldn’t bring himself to take care of it. His gaze was fixed on a barely visible spot on the wall, his mind anywhere but in the present moment.

“Anything for you, angel.”

Felix's fingers tightened on the duvet, the fabric bunching under his grip.

What if he said yes? What if he went right now, to Hyunjin’s room, and said yes? What would happen then? Would Hyunjin laugh in his face? Tell him how stupid he was for even believing that Hyunjin meant what he said back in London?

But what if… What if it wasn’t a lie at all? What if Hyunjin actually wanted him?

The thought brought a dangerous spark that prickled along his nerves. And he immediately tried to smother it, clinging to every argument that went against his primal, superficial attraction.

Why did it even matter if Hyunjin wanted him? Felix didn’t want a one-night stand, which was obviously what Hyunjin was offering. He didn’t trust Hyunjin with his body. He doubted he ever would. This had to be a game. Hyunjin wanted something other than his body, Felix was sure. It didn’t make any sense if he didn’t.

But… Did Felix really care? He didn’t want Hyunjin only for his body as well. He wished that were the case, but it wasn’t at all. Making such a simple decision whether to sleep with him or not would be so easy if it were.

He wanted… He wanted a lot of things. A challenge. A way to prove himself wrong, to prove that he wasn’t afraid. Not only to himself, but everyone too. He wanted to not feel like a victim of his own fate anymore.

He just wanted control.

And… as much as he tried to deny it, he wanted to feel wanted, too. Not by anyone. But Hyunjin, specifically.

In the past, he never thought he stood a chance. He never thought Hyunjin could reciprocate his feelings. He never could imagine himself being wanted by him. It felt absurd to even think about it, when Hyunjin never gave a shit if he existed or not.

How would Hyunjin treat him if he agreed? Would he be gentle? Was he even capable of being gentle?

The thought alone turned out to be a trap. Because immediately, an image ran through his mind, so vivid it stole the air from his lungs.

The weight of Hyunjin’s body pressed him against the wall, so hard Felix had no space to breathe, let alone escape. Strands of dark hair fell on Hyunjin’s forehead, and Hyunjin’s fingers, long and demanding, pinned his wrists on either side of his head.

A thumb gripped Felix’s jaw, urging him to bare the vulnerable line of his throat. He felt the sharp intake of Hyunjin’s breath against his skin, the warmth of it lingering, teasing, before his hot mouth moved closer, not yet touching but close enough to make Felix’s pulse race.

The anticipation coiled tight in his chest, a slow heat blooming, spreading through his whole body. And then, Hyunjin’s lips brushed down his neck, not kissing yet, but leaving trails of cold goosebumps on Felix’s throat.

And then…

A rush of heat surged through Felix's veins, pooling in his gut with an intensity that made his toes curl against the carpet.

Oh.

Shame crept in gradually, like a chill settling over the warmth, heavy and suffocating. His cheeks heated up, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

What the fuck was he doing?

He shouldn’t… He shouldn’t…

But his body ignored the plea. It continued with the image, getting more intimate by the second. Hyunjin’s hand on him, his lips on his skin, how Hyunjin would treat him, if he just overcame every rational part of his brain and went to his room.

The warmth persisted, deepening into a low throb that settled heavy in his abdomen, hot and electric.

He didn’t even glance down at himself to check. He knew he was getting hard. He was hard just by imagining Hyunjin’s lips on his skin.

Felix felt his cheeks burn, shame rising hot and thick in his throat. He rose abruptly, legs unsteady, stumbling toward the bathroom like it could save him. He didn’t waste any more time, sliding every bit of his clothing off, and stepped into the shower, turning the the water on.

He sank down slowly, back meeting the hard curve of the tub, knees pulling up to his chest, arms wrapping tight around them. Water poured over him, soaking his hair, plastering strands to his forehead and neck, cold drops tracing paths down his spine.

Pathetic, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut, barely holding back the tears that his shame brought. This is pathetic.

Yet his mind lingered there, betraying him with images of Hyunjin. Those dark, knowing eyes, and the way ‘Angel’ rolled off his tongue…

A small, desperate sound escaped Felix's throat, muffled by the splashing water.

He took breaths in, willing himself to calm down, focusing on the weight of the water on his skin, and he almost succeeded, the heat easing into something manageable. But then-

"Angel."

His heart jolted. His eyes snapped open, blurred by water as he looked around the room, checking the fogged mirror, the locked door…

But there was nothing. No one was around him. Felix was alone.

Yet the voice had been there, ghosting against his ear. Almost like someone was just right there, their lips hot against his skin.

And then he heard it again. “Angel.”

Felix curled tighter, forehead pressing into his knees, body shuddering with each inhale. "Stop," he breathed. "Please, stop."

His imagination was unrelenting, too, flooding his mind with images of what could be if he just agreed… Hyunjin in the steam, water tracing the lean lines of his shoulders, beading on his sharp collarbones… His hands sliding over Felix’s wet skin, palms warm and sure, thumbs pressing into the hollows of hips… His mouth trailing heat along his throat, teeth grazing lightly before sucking hard at the juncture of neck and shoulder, almost like he wanted to brand him as his...

The sensation built again, sharp and aching, a tension that bordered on pain, pulling him under despite his resistance.

"Angel, angel. Don't you want to come to me?"

A moan tore from him, low and broken. And before he knew it, his hand slipped down, fingers curling around himself, the water making everything slick and urgent.

In his mind, Hyunjin was right there. It wasn’t Felix’s hand, either… and he was pushing him toward the edge without mercy.

But reality was harsh. And when Felix felt his muscles locking, trembling with overload, and heart racing in frantic bursts as pleasure sent him closer and closer…

But there was nothing.

He couldn't…

He couldn't-

"Ah... You can't do it on your own."

The voice in his head softened, tender and mocking.

"Come here, Felix."

What? No! How pathetic… He couldn’t even…

"No," he gasped. His hand withdrew, palms pressing to his face instead, water seeping between fingers.

He was ashamed.

Because no release came. Nothing at all.

This wasn’t enough. He needed more.

Somewhere in the room, he could almost hear Hyunjin laughing.

The water continued to run down his face, and he knew that he had already lost.

═════

1. No feelings involved
2. Just physical
3. I can stop whenever I want
4. This doesn't change anything between us
5. We stay professional
6. No one outside of the band should know

Felix looked down at his list, nodding to himself.

There. That made it simple. Clinical, even. This wasn't a big deal. People did this all the time, didn’t they? Casual arrangements, stress relief, having their needs met with no strings attached… It didn't have to mean anything.

His pulse thrummed steadily in his ears, a reminder of the knot in his stomach.

He was still in control.

Around him, the backstage area was busy as they took a break for the pre-show rehearsal for their upcoming new setlist. Jeongin was slumped on a nearby couch, legs kicked up. Changbin was a few feet away from him, stretching. And Seungmin sat cross-legged on another chair, picking at a plastic container of cut fruit.

And there was someone else too, right in the corner of the room.

Hyunjin.

Felix's eyes drifted across the room without even thinking about it, almost like an itch under his skin.

Hyunjin was there, long legs crossed at the ankles, back slumped against the wall. He was drawing something on his tablet, which was balanced precariously on one knee, stylus scratching softly across the screen in slow, deliberate strokes. His hair, damp from earlier practice, fell into his eyes. But he didn't bother pushing it back, just tilted his head slightly, absorbed.

He wasn’t even aware. He wasn’t even aware that Felix…

Felix looked away quickly, heat prickling at the base of his neck, turning back to his phone.

      7. Don't stare at him like that

He immediately deleted it, gulping.

He stared down at his phone, then back up to Hyunjin, but he didn’t have much time to indulge in his own anxious thoughts.

One of the coordinators, Minji, walked up to him, a clipboard in her hand.

“Hey, Felix.” She smiled, stopping just a foot away. “Do you have a minute?”

Felix turned off his phone immediately, smiling up at her. “Yeah. Is there something wrong?”

“No, no. I just wanted to ask you about your harness. Iseul-ssi told me that you wanted to adjust it?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I just had a problem last week, because…”

A sudden movement caught his eye, and his attention shifted immediately, but he kept talking, trying to explain why the current harness was uncomfortable on the stage.

Chan came in the room, a water bottle dangling from one hand. He walked toward Hyunjin and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Jin-ah,” Felix heard him say, even though his voice was low, like he was discussing something private. "Can you come with me?"

Hyunjin glanced up, stylus pausing mid-stroke, and nodded, and Felix didn’t have much time to watch him leave the room before Minji spoke again.

“We will have a look at it. Maybe leave it for Siwoo to check? He isn’t here today, but leave it for him on Monday, yeah?”

Felix smiled at her, embarrassed. She must have caught his lack of attention, but she was nice enough not to comment on it. “Sure. Thank you, noona.”

Minji nodded, waving him off. “No problem. See you later, Felix.”

She walked out, and Felix scanned the room through the small glass windows on the walls. Hyunjin and Chan were gone, and Jeongin had disappeared too. But it didn’t take long to find them.

They were alone in a secluded resting area, seated at a small, round table. Hyunjin was perfectly still, his gaze fixed on Chan, who was scrolling through his phone with a restless thumb. Chan finally placed the phone on the table, offering an awkward, strained smile as Hyunjin picked it up.

Felix watched Hyunjin’s eyes drop to the screen, his brow furrowing slightly as he read. Chan began to speak, his voice low, his discomfort palpable even from a distance. Curious, Felix moved closer, stopping just outside the doorway where he could observe without being seen.

But he couldn't make out the words. After a moment, Chan fell silent, and a heavy silence stretched between them. Nearly five minutes passed. Chan leaned back in his chair, his gaze darting around the room, avoiding Hyunjin, who continued to read, seemingly unbothered. But Chan was anything but.

He looked concerned.

With a sigh that seemed to deflate him, Chan fished a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He tapped one out and lit it, the small flame illuminating the weary lines of his face before he inhaled, smoke dispersing in the air.

"Here," Chan said, his voice low as he slid the pack across the table.

Hyunjin didn't look up from the phone. "Thank you," he said. He plucked a cigarette, leaning into Chan’s offered flame. The light sharpened his jaw and downcast eyes for a moment before he straightened, exhaling a long, languid stream.

Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, and he finally looked up, his eyes curious. "What year is this?"

"Isn't the date written there?"

"It's cropped out, hyung."

Chan paused. "Ah..." Chan deflated further, taking another drag. "I think it was two years ago. Yeah. It's when... you know..." He gestured around vaguely, and Felix’s brow furrowed further, confused.

What were they talking about? And why did Chan speak so cryptically? Was he aware that Felix was listening?

He watched as Hyunjin gave a single, slow nod. "Okay. Just send me the picture, yeah?"

"Sure, sure," Chan said, relieved, but it was quickly followed by a hesitant tone. "Do you think you could..."

Hyunjin shrugged.

"I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try my best to help.”

Felix watched how Chan brightened up, his tense shoulders easing just a bit.

"Thank you, Jin. Really." Chan’s voice was thick with gratitude and something else… guilt, perhaps. Felix couldn’t exactly tell. "I'm sorry if this is too much."

Hyunjin took another draw of the cigarette. He smiled back at him. "Not at all."

Felix’s throat felt impossibly dry. He looked down at his phone, and he unlocked it, staring at the same boundary list he made just minutes ago.

His list now felt childish, naïve. What the fuck was he doing? How did he even think this was a good idea?

"What is this, Felix?"

Felix's head snapped up, heart skipping a beat, and he saw Seungmin standing right beside him, looking down at his phone.

"Um... nothing." He tilted the phone away sharply, hiding it, but it was too late.

"Nothing?" Seungmin chuckled. "It certainly looks like something to me. Are you-"

"No!"

Seungmin's grin widened, eyes crinkling at the corners. He held his palms up. "Okay, okay. I'm not meddling." He paused. "Just do it safely, yeah?"

“It’s not-“

“I don’t care, Yongbok-ah.” Seungmin laughed, patting him on his shoulder. His eyes flickered between Hyunjin and then back on him, like he already knew. “Whatever it is. Choose the one that's right for you, yeah? And do it carefully. We've got enough drama on tour already."

Felix didn't answer, swallowing a lump in his throat. Seungmin patted his shoulder one more time, reassuring him, before wandering off toward Changbin, tossing a casual "Hyung, I’m going to get water. You need something?" over his shoulder.

Felix's eyes drifted back to the room. Hyunjin had set the phone down now, leaning back in his chair. He brought the cigarette to his lips again, inhaling deeply, and Chan said something, mouth quirking in a half-smile, and it made Hyunjin exhale a breath, laughing.

He looked... Composed. Like someone who'd already figured out all his boundaries years ago and didn't need to write them down to remember.

Felix's chest tightened further as he looked down at his phone.

Choose the one that's right for you.

He looked at Hyunjin, at the sharp lines of his profile cutting through the haze, the way smoke curled from his lips, and Felix frowned.

Hyunjin is anything but right for me.

═════

It was 2:17 AM.

He'd been lying here for hours, mind racing, body humming restlessly, so much so that he couldn’t even sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Hyunjin, leaning back in that chair, smoke curling from his lips…

“Anything for you, angel.”

Felix's phone was in his hand, screen illuminating his face in the darkness. Hyunjin's contact was pulled up, his thumb hovering over the call button.

He could just... ask, couldn’t he? Send a message. Are you awake? Simple. Easy.

Except it wasn't simple. It wasn't easy. He felt embarrassed even thinking of it. What would he say, really? “Hey, you’re driving me insane. Can I come in your room?”

How absurd did that sound?

His heart hammered against his ribs, so loud he could hear it in his ears.

“Choose the one that's right for you.”

It sounded like a mockery. Seungmin was probably warning him, because everyone with two eyes could see that Hyunjin wasn’t right for him. Not even for a one-night stand. Felix should have never taken his offer seriously to begin with. He shouldn’t have… He shouldn’t have done a lot of things.

But he had. And all he was left with was just pure, unfiltered want.

He wanted so much his hands were trembling on the screen, even if he tried his best to steady them.

He was so tired. Why couldn’t he allow himself to just want for once? Even if he knew that he wanted the wrong thing?

Just go. Stop being a coward, and go.

But he sat there, frozen, unable to move. Go. His fingers clenched in the duvet. Go.

And after a minute, he did.

It wasn't a wave of courage that finally moved him. He wished it was.

“…The regret of trying is like nothing in comparison. Because at least you have an answer.”

He stood up. He didn't bother with shoes. Didn't check his reflection, either. He just wanted to get this over with, see him, and just leave.

The hotel corridor was silent, dim with barely-there lighting. His bare feet made no sound on the carpet as he walked. Hyunjin's room was three doors down. Felix knew because he'd memorized it without meaning to.

He stopped in front of the door.

His heart was beating so hard now it felt like it might crack his ribs. His breath came shallow and fast. Every instinct screamed at him to turn around, go back to his room before he embarrassed himself further. Not to give Hyunjin even more advantage over him… But he didn’t.

He stood there, and before he knew it, he raised his fist and knocked.

Soft. Three taps.

Immediately, panic seized him. What am I doing? He shouldn't be here. He knew he shouldn’t. This was a mistake. He should-

He took a step back, his breath hitching, ready to flee, but he didn’t have enough time.

The door opened.

Hyunjin stood there, sweatpants slung low on his hips. He was shirtless, and his eyes were tired, barely open as he blinked at Felix, no doubt confused what he was doing at his door at two in the morning.

Felix felt frozen on his spot as Hyunjin eyed him from head to toe, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

Mistake. This was a mistake. Stupid. Go back. Why can't I move? Go!

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even move an inch.

"Felix?" Hyunjin asked, his voice rough.

"Um. Um... I-“ Felix took another step back, a chill running down his spine.

He couldn't even make words work. Couldn't make his mouth form the sentence he'd been rehearsing in his head for the last twenty minutes. And he couldn’t bring himself to run away, either.

Hyunjin seemed to wake up more fully. He straightened, his expression clearing, and stepped back from the doorway.

"Come in."

Felix gulped, willing himself to get a grip and face Hyunjin head on. Like he promised himself he would.

He dragged his feet, stepping into the room, and Hyunjin closed the door behind him with a quiet click. The sound felt final, and Felix immediately felt trapped, even though he came here out of his own will.

Hyunjin leaned back against the door, arms crossed loosely over his bare chest, and watched Felix with interest, waiting for him to speak.

Felix stood in the middle of the room, his heart in his mouth.

"I... I... I want to..."

The words tangled on his tongue. He couldn't get them out. Couldn't force his voice to cooperate.

"I'm not going to attack you, Felix." Hyunjin's voice was soft, gentle. Almost amused. "Tell me why you're here."

Felix opened his mouth. Nothing came out. His throat felt like it was closing up, his chest too tight to pull in a full breath. He tried again.

Nothing.

Frustration burned behind his eyes. Why can't I just say it?

His hand fumbled for his phone in his pocket. His fingers shook so badly he almost dropped it. He unlocked it, the screen too bright in the dim room, and scrolled to his notes app with clumsy, panicked movements.

He found the note. The one he'd written and rewritten a dozen times already.

1. No feelings involved
2. Just physical
3. I can stop whenever I want
4. This doesn't change anything between us
5. We stay professional
6. No one outside of the band can know

He handed it out to Hyunjin, not able to meet his eyes. Hyunjin pushed off the door and crossed the space between them in two strides. He took the phone from his hand, his fingers brushing Felix's for just a moment, warm and steady. Felix immediately flinched back, as if burned.

Hyunjin didn’t pay attention to it. And Felix watched him, throat tight, as his eyes scanned the screen.

The silence stretched impossibly long.

Felix wished he could read Hyunjin’s face, but the dancer showed no emotion at all. And as Felix's panic worsened, already convinced that this all had been a cruel joke he fell for, Hyunjin looked up, smiling gently.

"Is that a yes?"

Felix's breath caught.

He nodded. Just once. But Hyunjin didn’t look pleased.

He sighed, but his voice still remained soft. “I asked you a question.”

Felix swallowed a lump in his throat. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice barely there.

Hyunjin's smile widened slightly, and he handed the phone back. Felix took it with numb fingers, unable to look away from Hyunjin's face.

"Okay," Hyunjin said quietly. He reached out, slow and deliberate, giving Felix every chance to pull away. But all Felix could do was stare as his hand cupped Felix's jaw, thumb brushing across his cheekbone. "I agree to all of them.”

That wasn’t what Felix expected at all. Hyunjin’s easy compliance was unnerving.

His brow furrowed. “You do?”

“Of course. We will do this at your own pace.” He smiled at him. Felix wanted to run away. “You’re in control, Felix.”

Felix wasn’t buying it, but he nodded anyway, letting out a shaky breath.

Hyunjin's hand lingered on his jaw, the touch light but grounding, his thumb tracing a slow, absent pattern along the skin just below his cheekbone. The room was quiet, cool air raising faint goosebumps along Felix's arms. Hyunjin's skin was warm, though… radiating from his bare chest, close enough now that Felix could catch the subtle scent of soap and nicotine.

Felix couldn’t breathe.

And when Hyunjin leaned down, closing the last bit of space between them, his mouth just a breath away from his, Felix’s heart leaped in his chest, skipping a beat.

"Can I kiss you?"

Felix swallowed, the question heavy around them. He wished he could speak, or move, really, but all he could do was nod again, smaller this time, but Hyunjin caught it.

He leaned in gradually, giving space to retreat, until their lips met. And it was so impossibly soft. Hyunjin’s mouth was parted, mapping his lips slowly, tasting him… first the corner of his mouth, then the edges, then coming back up at the center. He didn’t seem to mind that Felix was frozen, and he didn’t mind when Felix raised his hands, clutching on his bare shoulders, hard enough for it to be uncomfortable at least.

Hyunjin just chuckled in the kiss, his thumb coming up to trace Felix’s cheekbone, almost fond.

"You're shaking," Hyunjin murmured, parting from him, but barely. Felix could feel his cold breath blowing on his jaw. His thumb brushed Felix's lower lip now, separating Felix’s lips further. "Breathe. In... out. You can leave any time you want. There’s no reason to be afraid."

Felix hadn't realized how tense he was, his shoulders locked, hands grasping Hyunjin’s shoulders. He inhaled, looking at Hyunjin, and he was sure his pupils were fully dilated, just as Hyunjin’s were.

“Good. Good job, Felix,” Hyunjin praised him, and it seemed genuine. “Tell me what you want.”

“Right now?”

“You didn’t come here to just show me the list, did you?”

Felix swallowed. He couldn’t think of one thing. He wanted… What didn’t he want, really?

“I... I want to feel you,” he whispered finally, voice barely audible, eyes dropping to the carpet. He let go of Hyunjin, his hands clenched tight at his sides, knuckles blanching. “Can… Can I?”

Silence stretched for a moment, taut and suffocating. Felix's pulse thundered in his ears. He stared at the floor, heat rising in his cheeks, but then Hyunjin's hand closed over his, guiding it slowly upward until Felix's palm rested flat against the center of his chest, right over the steady drum of his heartbeat.

Felix glanced up, eyes wide. Hyunjin just nodded at him. “Go ahead.”

The skin there was smooth, warm, rising and falling in a quiet rhythm that matched Felix's own ragged breaths. He leaned in a fraction, fingers spreading tentatively, tracing the contours of muscle beneath, the sparse hairs brushing his fingertips. Hyunjin inhaled sharply, and Felix couldn’t look away.

Hyunjin had never felt more like a human being to him than right at that moment. Hyunjin wasn’t…

He was actually alive.

Hyunjin’s lips returned to his, but the kiss had changed. It was firmer, deeper, filled with pressure that melted the last of Felix’s resistance. Their mouths moved slowly, and Hyunjin’s tongue met his, gliding over it, but gently, unhurried, just tasting him. Like they had all the time in the world.

His hands found Felix’s waist, fingers splaying wide, and Hyunjin pulled him closer. The thin cotton of Felix’s shirt wasn’t enough of a barrier. He could feel the heat of Hyunjin’s bare chest bleed straight through it anyway. He gripped Hyunjin by his shoulders, feeling the hard, living flex of muscle as his nails scratched the skin, but Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind at all.

He moved then, guiding Felix with him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Felix collapsed onto the sheets, and Hyunjin followed him down, pinning Felix into the mattress.

The kiss broke. Felix dragged in a ragged breath, his head spinning, but Hyunjin didn’t give him much time to adjust. Instead of returning to his mouth, Felix felt the soft, insistent pressure of lips on his jaw. They trailed downward slowly, on his throat, each kiss, however soft they were, searing on his skin, leaving it prickling with heat.

Felix shuddered, his eyes squeezing shut as a wave of goosebumps ran over his body.

The journey didn't stop until those lips found the frantic flutter of his pulse at the base of his throat. Hyunjin paused there, ghosting his cold breath over it. And Felix took a shuddering breath in, anticipating, his muscles tightened with want.

Then, Hyunjin leaned down and sucked.

A broken sound tore from Felix's throat, half-gasp, half-moan, as the sensation raced through him, sharp and electric. It was too much, and yet, not nearly enough.

"Have... Have you done this before?" Felix managed to say, voice breathy, his hand trembling as it traced the elegant line of Hyunjin's shoulder.

"What, sex?" Hyunjin murmured against his throat, his voice vibrating, making Felix shiver.

Felix wanted to answer, but Hyunjin’s hand slid under the hem of his shirt, tracing a slow, deliberate path upward along the delicate arch of his ribs.

Felix’s breath stuttered. It was getting hard to think.

He swallowed, forcing himself to speak. "No. Have you... have you been with a man?"

"Yeah," Hyunjin replied simply, lifting his head just enough to look at him. "Raise your arms."

Felix complied, shirt whisking off and tossed aside, cool air hitting his chest before Hyunjin's mouth returned, warmer. Felix willed himself to get a grip. This was what Jisung warned him about. That Hyunjin was aroace, so his supposed ‘attraction’ toward Felix was questionable, to say the least. But was Jisung wrong?

"You enjoyed it?" Felix asked before thinking it through, his voice barely a whisper.

Hyunjin laughed softly, and it buzzed against Felix's collarbone, warm and teasing, but not unkind. "Are you interviewing me?" His eyes glinted with slight amusement as he lifted his head just enough to meet Felix’s gaze. "I promise I can fuck you just fine, Felix."

“That’s not what I…”

Felix couldn’t finish what he was saying, as Hyunjin brushed a soft, lingering kiss just below his collarbone, where his pulse thrummed visibly. The contact was light, barely there, but it made Felix break out in cold goosebumps nonetheless. Hyunjin’s mouth moved lower and lower… first at the hollow of his throat, then along the center of his chest, where his heart pounded too loud, too fast.

Felix’s hands twitched at his sides, unsure what to do, his fingers curling into the sheets as Hyunjin’s lips grazed the taut plane of his stomach, just above his navel. Hyunjin’s teeth grazed faintly on everywhere he kissed, not biting but teasing, enough to make Felix’s muscles jump under the touch.

He mapped his torso with his mouth, going down and down, until he reached his bellybutton, and Hyunjin let his breath ghost over it before he placed a slight kiss, right by his waistband.

Felix’s chest heaved uncontrollably. Hyunjin lifted his head, his gaze still heavy, lips glistening faintly from the kisses. “Can I take off your pants?”

Felix nodded immediately. He couldn't think of saying no anyway.

Hyunjin hooked his fingers under the waistband and dragged the fabric down, getting rid of it instantly before he tossed it somewhere in the room. Cold crept in, making Felix shiver, but Hyunjin’s palm returned, warm and steady, settling against the curve of his thigh. The touch spread through him like a burn, Hyunjin’s fingers stroking his skin gently, slowly, before without any warning at all, he cupped him through his underwear.

Felix whimpered, the sound escaping before he could catch it, raw and unguarded. He pressed his lips together, cheeks flushing.

He didn’t have to look down to see how hard he was. He could bet that his treacherous body was leaking, too.

Hyunjin didn’t comment on it, but his eyes flickered with something, amusement, maybe, as he continued exploring him slowly, fingers grazing just enough to keep Felix teetering on the edge of overwhelm.

"Stay still," Hyunjin whispered all of a sudden. His free hand splayed across Felix's waist, gripping firmly, holding him in place as he stretched his arm toward the drawer.

Felix watched, hypnotized, the way Hyunjin's body was shifting above, muscles flexing in his back and shoulders. Too elegant for him to feel real. Like every move he did was choreographed.

"What are you doing?" he asked through the haze.

"I’m searching for lube," Hyunjin replied matter-of-factly, rummaging in the drawers with one hand, bottles clinking faintly until he found what he needed. A small bottle of lube. He flicked the tube open. “You don’t mind if I fuck you now, do you?”

Felix looked at him, really looked, and he noticed it now. How tense Hyunjin really was. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed, and he was looking at Felix expectantly, like Felix saying ‘no’ would physically hurt him.

Hyunjin was barely holding back.

Felix gulped, shaking his head. “It’s… It’s fine. But please be gentle.”

Hyunjin nodded, but his compliance was anything but believable. “Open your thighs.”

That alone was enough to put some sense back into him.

So Felix didn’t comply. He shuffled back, away from him.

Hyunjin watched him, his eyes heavy. Felix expected him to nudge his thighs open, but he didn’t. He seemed to be waiting for consent.

“You’re in control, Felix.”

Hyunjin took a deep breath in, as if the act of holding back was getting unbearable. “Do you want me to beg?”

“I don’t want to do this if you can’t be gentle.”

“I’ll try my best, Felix,” he said, but Felix wasn’t buying it at all. He shuffled away from Hyunjin even further.

Hyunjin ran his hand through his hair, closing his eyes shut before opening them, his gaze not as heavy as before. His voice was calmer when he added, “If you don’t like anything I’m doing, tell me to stop, and I will. Deal?”

After a moment of hesitation, Felix nodded, reluctantly opening his legs. “Okay.”

Hyunjin set the bottle aside and stripped away the last barrier, Felix's underwear sliding off, leaving him completely exposed, bare under Hyunjin's gaze. Felix's eyes flicked down, noting the imbalance: he was completely naked, vulnerable, while Hyunjin still wore his sweatpants, the outline of his own arousal straining against them.

"What about..."

But he noticed how Hyunjin paused, his gaze dropping to Felix's exposed skin, heavy and unhurried. Felix shuffled back, shame charging through immediately.

Was Hyunjin judging his body? He suddenly felt too aware of his own skin. What was Hyunjin seeing? He knew how his own body looked, and he hoped Hyunjin would allow him to forget about it, but…

Felix gasped.

Hyunjin's slick fingers pressed between his legs, circling teasingly before pushing in. One at first, slow and deliberate, the stretch uncomfortable, a burn that made Felix tense, muscles clenching instinctively around the intrusion. He gripped Hyunjin’s arm, clinging to him, grimacing.

Hyunjin paused immediately, his fingers stilling inside. He looked at him, questioning, and Felix nodded, urging him to continue. He continued stretching him then, long finger spreading him open while his other hand trailed light patterns across Felix's stomach to distract him from the pain.

"Relax," Hyunjin said calmly, his other hand resuming its strokes on Felix's length, firmer now, distracting with waves of pleasure that contrasted the stretch, easing him open. He added a second finger, scissoring gently, the lube warming with movement, slick sounds filling the space. "Breathe through it. You're doing fine."

Mere seconds later, Felix felt a burst of warm pleasure spreading through him as Hyunjin massaged the most sensitive part of his body, overriding every bit of pain he ever felt till now. He whimpered, his eyes screwed shut. “Ah!”

But Hyunjin didn’t allow him to look away. He grabbed his chin, lifting it up to face him, his fingers digging into his skin.

"If we are doing this, I want your eyes on me. All the time. Don’t look away. Got it?" Hyunjin said as he lifted his head, gaze locking onto Felix's. And it was so unbelievably beautiful, dark, intense, sharp, pulling Felix in like a tether.

Felix almost wanted to laugh, looking Hyunjin over, drinking him in. How his sculpted body tensed, keeping himself upright, careful not to crush him with his weight. The sweat on his brow. The dark strands falling into his eyes…

I never stood a chance.

“Got it?” Hyunjin asked him again, his voice rougher, almost annoyed. He crooked his fingers, pressing into him with way more pressure than necessary, and Felix cried out, nodding.

“Okay. Okay!”

Hyunjin eased his grip just enough, and he spent the next minute stretching him thoroughly, nudging his prostate just enough to pleasure him but not enough for a release. Felix was panting, his chest heaving when Hyunjin lifted his head, eyes locking onto his, searching. “Can I keep going?”

Felix nodded, breaths coming out sharp and shallow. He shifted, legs parting wider, his body trembling with need. “Yeah,” he whispered, barely audible, “please.”

The restrain that Hyunjin so carefully orchestrated finally snapped. With no warning at all, he pushed himself in.

The stretch burned, it burned too much. Hyunjin shuddered, a broken sound escaping his throat. And his jaw clenched visibly, muttering something under his breath, probably a curse. Felix was about to tell him to stop, but then Hyunjin’s hand returned, wrapping around him, stroking, thumb tracing on the sensitive skin that sparked pleasure through the discomfort.

“Slowly… Ah… Slow down…” Felix gasped, digging his fingernails into Hyunjin’s back.

He could see how Hyunjin’s jaw tightened further, the veins in his neck visible as he held himself back, the hands around Felix’s hips contracting just a fraction. His breathing was labored too, ragged and deep, chest heaving with the effort, but he seemed to regain his restraint, even if Felix could see just how much it cost him to do so.

The rhythm synced, unhurried, Hyunjin easing into him, coaxing Felix’s body to open inch by inch. And when he finally buried himself completely, Felix gasped, the pleasure so overbearing his mind blanked out for a second.

“Ah!”

He felt full. It was too much. He struggled to breathe, his mind frayed at the edges. And when he looked at Hyunjin, he saw that he wasn’t doing that well, either.

He looked at the way Hyunjin thrust into him, the graceful roll of his hips as he shifted closer, muscles taut as he tried to restrain himself. His brow was furrowed with effort, sweat beading at his temple. And he looked pained. Like this was some punishment for him.

Felix ran his hands across Hyunjin’s back, nails digging, leaving angry red scratches on his skin. Hyunjin didn’t flinch. He just leaned closer, breath hot against Felix’s ear. “You’re gripping me too tightly. Relax.”

Felix took a breath in, trying his best to comply, relaxing his body further. And it seemed that it was enough. Hyunjin leaned down, pressing a kiss right on his collarbone. “Good. Breathe, Felix.”

Felix could barely register what happened after. It passed like a blur, and the pleasure was so overwhelming that he forgot himself, even, reacting to Hyunjin’s thrusts with his body alone.

The pressure inside him didn’t ease, either. It spread to every inch of his body, enveloping him from inside out. Every inch of his skin that Hyunjin touched tingled, and he just wanted more, even though he could barely take Hyunjin as he was.

Felix returned his hand to Hyunjin's chest then, palm pressing flat against the frantic thrum of his heartbeat, which was faster now, erratic, not like how it was at first. It grounded him, the living pulse a reminder that Hyunjin was unraveling too, maybe in a different way than Felix was, but it was enough.

Hyunjin's rhythm deepened, rougher, harder, merciless, and Felix felt tears springing into his eyes.

“Please… Hyunjin…”

He didn’t know what he was pleading for, and he saw how Hyunjin laughed, almost helpless, like Felix's pleading undid him.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along his sensitive neck, burying himself in Felix deeper and making every push agonizing with pleasure.

“You came to me for this, didn’t you? To feel something real,” Hyunjin murmured into his skin. Then he chuckled, but it was humorless, devoid of any emotion. “We’re both after the same thing. Isn’t that funny?”

“I…I… Ah… Please…”

Hyunjin smiled before leaving a brief kiss on his pulse. And he didn’t say anything else, just continued moving inside him, and…

Felix’s eyes blurred with tears, his mind not gone but scattered, every sensation too sharp to hold onto.

He couldn’t remember himself finding release. He couldn’t remember Hyunjin finding it either. Time stretched and turned, and they finally stilled, breaths ragged. Hyunjin didn’t pull away instantly, his weight pressing down onto him for a brief moment before he dragged himself out of him.

It left Felix empty and aching, and Hyunjin rolled to the side, collapsing beside him, his chest rising and falling in sync with Felix's for a few lingering moments.

They lay in silence. Felix could hear his own heartbeat slowing as his body slowly calmed down.

That's when the panic hit.

I have to go. Now.

But his limbs didn’t comply. His mind swirled, fragments of sensations replaying.

It’s over. I finally did it. I got what I asked for.

But did he? He wasn’t so sure. He wanted… God… He wanted…

This wasn’t enough.

He had to go. He had to go before he fell too much into this. While he still could.

He sat up, muscles protesting with a dull throb, the sheets sticking slightly to his skin as he swung his legs over the edge. He stood up slowly, his legs numb, and began searching for his clothes. His hands trembled as he pulled on his underwear, then pants, the zipper catching once before sliding up.

Hyunjin watched without interfering, and when Felix couldn’t find his shirt, he sat up fully, grabbing it from the floor and handing it over with a neutral "Here."

Felix hurried toward him, grabbing the shirt before slipping it on, the hem falling unevenly.

He glanced at Hyunjin, who was still bare, sheet draped loosely over his lap, expression calm, like he expected this. "I... I should go."

"The door’s open,” he said, like it didn’t matter at all.

Felix bolted out of the room.

Chapter Text

Lust.

It wasn’t a complex concept. Hyunjin understood it on a base, animal level, like everyone else did. It had never been particularly interesting to him, but he understood why people craved it. It was ingrained in human psyche, after all. Just a biological imperative, wasn’t it?

But now… It was different now. Now when he had an opportunity to actually feel it, and experience it himself, he understood all too well why people became dependent on it.

What was Lust, other than the most potent drug against emptiness? And ironically, the cause of emptiness itself?

He sat shirtless in front of a small canvas, the morning light, pale and clear, cutting across his torso and illuminating various paints he had in small tubes on the desk nearby. He dipped his brush into a blob of pure, undiluted black. It was the deepest shade of black he could find, almost void-like, with absolute zero hint of light in it, the color created when all the world's colors mixed together.

He pressed the brush to the canvas, and he remembered.

Pressure. Wet, tight heat... A gasp, sharp and broken against his ear. Skin like silk, soft and flushed under his hands. Trembling fingers on his shoulders. Wide eyes staring at him when he entered. Sweat tracing a cold line past his own collarbone. The overwhelming flood of warmth that begged the control to break. In and out. In and out. Over and over again.

Hyunjin exhaled, suppressing a shiver that ran down his body. The memory alone felt like dry ice dripping down his spine.

His eyes flicked to the corner of the canvas, where he’d scribbled a note in his precise, angular handwriting. Deeper the shade, more intense the stimulation.

Black. The most consuming color there is.

He stared at the portrait, the black he had placed right in the center of Felix’s torso. The surrounding colors looked bright, joyful even, beside that single patch of darkness that signified Lust. Reds, blues, grays, yellows…

It almost swallowed the portrait whole.

Hyunjin admired his work, at the way the painting gazed back at him, eyes open and empty… He was about to scribble something on the edge when he heard someone knock loudly on his door.

“Hyung?”

It was Jeongin.

Hyunjin placed the brush down on the palette.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

Hyunjin carefully slid the canvas into a drawer, making sure nothing touched the wet paint. “Sure.”

The door creaked open, and Jeongin’s head popped in, his hair mussed from sleep. “Hey. We’re having breakfast downstairs. You want anything?”

Hyunjin smiled at him. “Yeah. I’ll come down in a minute.”

He stood, turning as he grabbed a discarded shirt from the chair. But as he pulled it over his head, he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him.

“Hyung, what?” Jeongin’s voice rose in alarm. “Your back… What did you do?”

Hyunjin paused, shirt half-on. “What?”

Jeongin hurried toward him. “Your back’s all red! There’s blood too… look.” He fumbled for his phone, opened the camera, and held the screen up like a mirror so Hyunjin could see.

Hyunjin glanced at the screen. And sure enough, angry, parallel lines were all over his skin, all across his shoulder blades down to his waist. In a few places, the scratches were deep enough to bead with blood, but it wasn’t anything serious. Hell, he almost forgot it was there in the first place.

His back stung when he tried to sleep after Felix left, and it burned under hot water, but he hadn’t cared enough to treat them. Felix hadn’t done much damage anyway.

“Ah… It’s nothing, Innie. Don’t worry about it.”

But Jeongin wasn’t convinced at all. “I’m going to get antiseptic,” he declared. “Where do you have it?”

Hyunjin pulled his shirt off completely, seeing no reason to refuse. Jeongin wouldn’t leave if he did anyway. “It’s in the bathroom.”

“Sit down.”

Hyunjin hummed in acknowledgment, sitting back down on the chair. He listened to the sounds of Jeongin rummaging in his bathroom, his movements hurried and panicked. Almost like Hyunjin was on the brink of death.

It was one of Jeongin’s worst habits, truly. He craved to be useful, to be needed, so whenever he had a chance to prove himself, he would do it with determination and passion, no matter how small the task was. Especially if who he was taking care of was one of the oldest members of the band.

His hyungs adored him for it. Hyunjin, on the other hand, never felt comfortable with attention, but he learned to endure it long time ago, when he realized it was necessary for the members to consider him familiar. Someone capable of being cared for and caring in return.

Jeongin returned with supplies in hand. He uncapped the antiseptic, soaked a cotton pad, and dabbed it gently onto the scratches.

The liquid was cold. Hyunjin barely contained a flinch, but he didn’t say a word.

“What kind of animal did you sleep with?” He muttered, his voice wary. “These are nails, hyung. Actual human nails.”

Hyunjin remained silent, grimacing when Jeongin pressed too hard.

“Careful, Ayen.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jeongin’s touch softened. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

Silence settled between them. Hyunjin sat still, hunched slightly, while Jeongin worked.

“So?” Jeongin finally spoke again. “Who is she? Someone from the team? You have to tell me.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. I’m the one patching you up! I want a name.”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m just curious, hyung.”

Hyunjin didn’t answer, and Jeongin huffed, finishing his task with a final, precise dab. He capped the antiseptic. “There. Try not to get an infection.”

Hyunjin stood and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on properly, the soft cotton grazing uncomfortably against the treated scratches. He then reached out and ruffled Jeongin’s hair, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

Jeongin stared at him, surprised.

“You’re… welcome,” he managed to say, blinking. He recovered quickly, though, a sly grin spreading across his face. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

Why wasn’t Jeongin letting this go already? Was Hyunjin’s sex life that interesting to him? “No, Ayen.”

Jeongin watched him for a long moment, no doubt wondering why he was in an affectionate mood out of a sudden. He shrugged then, smiling at him, visibly brightening up.

“Well… if she makes you this happy, I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?” He bumped Hyunjin’s shoulder lightly as he headed for the door. “Good luck with her, hyung. You gonna come down for breakfast?”

“Sure. Thank you again.”

The door clicked shut, leaving Hyunjin alone in the sunlit room. And he couldn’t help but laugh.

She.

Well, Felix was certainly androgynous. From far away, he almost looked like a girl. Jeongin wasn’t that far off from the truth, was he?

He left his room after making his bed, and took the elevator down to the second floor. The lounge itself was quiet, barely any people there at seven of the morning. And at the corner, his members were sitting at the round table.

Chan was scrolling through his phone, a half-eaten pastry forgotten on the plate in front of him. Minho and Jisung were talking, and he could see Jeongin as well, but he was far away from them, choosing his plate at the service table.

Where's Felix? He scanned the place, searching for him, but he was nowhere to be found. Which Hyunjin didn’t mind that much. He was probably asleep.

He went to the service table to pick his breakfast as well, and the moment he and Jeongin sat down with others, Chan looked up, smiling.

“Oh, hi,” he said, and then gestured at his food. “Do you want this? It’s too sweet for me.”

“Why do you always choose the foods you least enjoy, hyung?” Jeongin asked.

Chan smiled sheepishly. “Ah… I don’t even know. I’m working on my weight, I guess.”

“Don’t waste it, then,” Jeongin remarked with a tone which left no room for argument. “You chose this yourself."

Chan laughed, launching into a conversation about how Jeongin was the second in command in the band now. Hyunjin tuned them out, taking a bite of his own food, but barely a minute later, he felt the weight of someone’s eyes on his face. He didn’t pay attention to it at first, thinking it would go away, but three minutes passed, then five, and the pressure didn’t ease.

Hyunjin raised his head slowly, and there was Jisung, staring directly at him, like he was trying to solve a puzzle instead of staring blatantly at a living human being.

Hyunjin raised a brow, silently asking, What do you want?... but Jisung didn’t look away. He didn’t smile or offer an excuse either, like he normally would. He just held the stare for a moment longer before turning back to his food, the silence stretching, thick and unacknowledged.

Hyunjin frowned slightly, confused. Why that look? He replayed recent events in his mind but he couldn’t come up with explanation. He had done nothing to offend Jisung. Nothing he could remember, at least.

But why was Jisung staring at him like he had killed his pet?

Hyunjin didn’t dwell on it much, focusing on finishing his meal, and the moment it was finally over, he stood up, the legs of his chair scraping softly against the floor. “I’m going back up.”

But before he could move, Jisung called him.

“Hey,” He said, already on his feet. “Can I come with you?”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed, taking in the set of Jisung’s jaw, the tension in his shoulders.

There was no escaping this now, was it?

“Sure,” he gritted out.

They took the elevator to his room, the silence there so thick it could be cut with a knife. When they reached Hyunjin’s room, he went straight to the window, pulling the curtains open before turning to his desk to tidy up the scattered brushes and pencils.

Jisung stayed by the door, arms crossed. Five minutes passed, and he still remained there, watching him like Hyunjin was a lab rat.

Hyunjin sighed. This was getting tiring already.

“Aren’t you going to come in?”

Jisung didn’t move. “I’m comfortable here.”

Hyunjin went back to sorting out his drawer, but Jisung spoke again.

“Hey, Hyun.”

“Yes?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

Hyunjin picked up a brush, examining the bristles. This one definitely need a wash. “Go ahead.”

Jisung didn’t hesitate. “What’s going on with you and Felix?”

Hyunjin’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second before he placed the brush in a cup. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, man. Don’t play dumb.” Jisung’s voice lost its hesitant edge, turning sharp out of a sudden. “You know exactly what I mean. Since when do you look at anyone like that?”

Hyunjin turned around, leaning against the desk. “Like what?”

“Like he’s food, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin furrowed a brow, confused. Did he seriously…. He had seen fanmade videos online of him and Felix, where he indeed, was looking at Felix like he was about to devour him whole, but he thought they were those edited, out-of-context videos merged together.

Were those videos accurate, then? He couldn’t help but laugh. No wonder Felix tried his best to get away from him.

“Maybe I like him,” he replied, his tone soft.

Jisung eyed him from head to toe, as if he confessed to a crime. “… Like him how, romantically?”

“Not exactly. I’m just attracted to him.”

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. And when Jisung finally spoke again, his tone was skeptical. Accusing. “I’m not buying that.”

“You think I can’t be attracted to people?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. But you’ve never looked at anyone. Ever. And now you’re fixated on him out of nowhere. Doesn’t that seem off to you?”

“Is there a law against simple physical attraction, Jisung?”

“For you? Yeah, kinda!” Jisung ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further. He took a step forward, his voice dropping to a serious, low tone. “Look. I don’t know what this is, but I have a really bad feeling about it. And I’m serious, Hyunjin, if I ever see him crying because of you, you’ll end up in a hospital. Got it?”

Hyunjin couldn't help but smile.

It was fascinating, really. This possessive, tribal instinct to protect the perceived weakest member. Felix had them wrapped around his finger, with no effort at all. At this point, he could even form a cult and they would all sign themselves in as their guardians.

The thought of Felix actually doing that was hillarious. He didn’t want to laugh in Jisung’s face, not when he looked as if every nerve of his body was tensed and ready to attack. So he bit his lip, trying his best not to laugh.

“He’s not a child, Jisung. He’s way more manipulative than any of you give him credit for."

“How the hell is he manipulative? What the hell does that even mean?”

Maybe Jisung would sign himself first, actually.

"He acts like a damsel in distress. Constantly." Hyunjin picked up a stray pencil and started tapping it lightly on the desk. "He knows exactly what he's doing when he lets people baby him, so he makes himself seem less capable than he is."

Jisung looked at him with such anger and disdain that it seemed he was a second away from biting his head off.

“That’s not manipulation, he’s struggling! He has an eating disorder, for fuck’s sake. How can you even say that?!”

"It is, though." Hyunjin kept his voice calm, clinical. "He's not stupid, Jisung. He's desperate for control, so he controls the only thing he can, how you see him. And you all eat it up."

Jisung’s voice dropped cold. “He’s not trying to manipulate anyone. You’re just projecting. Sounds like you’re talking about yourself, if you ask me.”

Hyunjin shrugged, seeing no point in getting defensive. Jisung would fight tooth and nail to defend Felix anyway. “That could be true, yeah.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Because he’s way better at performing than I’ll ever be.”

Which wasn’t a lie. Felix was way more socially capable than him because of his extroverted nature, coupled with how easily he could make others feel protective over him. He was a natural entertainer, and it was rare, almost unprecedented, as far as Hyunjin was concerned, for the audience to get bored of him. In comparison, social connection had never been Hyunjin’s strong suit. Hell, he had to teach himself how to tolerate small talk. But for Felix, it came naturally as breathing.

Jisung deflated, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Like something Hyunjin said genuinely struck him. But finally, he let out, “I don't know what the fuck does that mean, but you're just shifting blame, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin placed the pencil down with a click. He met Jisung’s gaze head-on. “He could kill a person right in front of you, and you’d still find a way to defend him.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Hyunjin pushed off the desk. “I’m going now.”

He walked to the door and opened it. Jisung didn’t move. And just as he was about to leave the room, Jisung spoke again, voice low, almost as if Hyunjin wasn’t meant to hear him at all.

“You’re so full of shit, Hyunjin.”

A dry laugh escaped Hyunjin’s throat. “I’m aware, yeah.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He stepped out into the hallway. “Aren’t you coming? Or should I lock you in my room?”

He waited in the doorway. After a moment, Jisung finally followed him out, shoulders tense. But before turning toward his own room, he stopped and looked back, his expression dead serious. “I mean it. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but if you hurt him…”

“He’s safe and sound,” Hyunjin said, his smile a bland, placating thing that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

═════

The first day, it was barely a problem at all.

Felix wasn’t there at lunch. Hyunjin expected to see him, so he looked around everywhere as he came downstairs after schedule, but Felix was nowhere to be found.

He sat on the chair in the corner, a coffee mug steaming in his hand.

He waited until the lunch was over, but still, there were no traces of Felix nearby.

"Where's Felix?" He asked Seungmin.

Seungmin didn't look up from his phone. "He said he’s going to go outside for a walk. I don’t know where, though."

Hyunjin nodded. It was logical. The last night had been intense. Felix was the type to need time to process everything. Hyunjin could grant that. It probably wouldn’t last that long.

He let it go.

The second day was the concert.

The air backstage reeked of hairspray and cleaners, and Felix moved through the dressing room like he was trying to make himself invisible. His eyes swept over everyone and everything, carefully skimming right over Hyunjin as if he were part of the wall.

Hyunjin stared at him, brow furrowed, trying to figure out what to do.

But, after a minute, he shrugged, going back to his phone and acting like he didn’t notice Felix at all.

Not that long had passed after Felix decided to have sex with him, a decision which, for Felix, was probably monumental, so the reaction was just natural. He remembered the boundary list Felix had written, and it was obvious that giving Felix space was the most logical thing to do.

He ignored how restless he felt, something that usually happened right after Felix would decide to starve him of any stimulation.

After all, this probably wouldn’t last long.

It wasn’t a big deal, was it?

Then came the concert itself. Some of the songs demanded them to be closer to each other, and Felix couldn’t escape that, no matter how obviously he tried to. And the moment came. The beat dropped. The move was simple: grab Felix’s shoulder, pull him back into line. Hyunjin’s hand landed. His fingers dug into the skin, a half-second too long, a fraction too hard. Trying to send a message.

What the fuck are you doing?

All he got as a response was a jolt. A tiny, electric flinch that traveled from Felix’s body straight into his own.

And before he knew it, Felix was gone, stepping away like the touch had scorched him.

The rest of the show was a test of endurance of sorts. Hyunjin smiled, he did everything he was required to do. But his jaw was locked, and he no longer could delude himself that this was temporary.

By the third day, it was no longer manageable.

The room was silent. Hyunjin’s gaze fell on a cheap ballpoint pen left on the counter. His hand moved without thought, picking it up. He rolled it in his palm, then his thumb found the center of the barrel.

He pressed.

At first, there was just pressure. Then small creaks of plastic broke apart. He increased the pressure, his knuckle whitening. He was watching the pen like he expected to gain something out of it.

One second. Three seconds. Four seconds. And-

Crack.

The sound was shockingly loud in the quiet. He uncurled his fingers. And there it was: a shattered pen, and the bright, real throb in his thumb.

He still felt nothing. Nothing in his mind was responding. Of course.

Of fucking course.

He pushed the bathroom door open, the door clicking behind him. He didn't even look in the mirror. He went straight to the sink, his hands hovering over the porcelain bowl.

He grabbed the hot water knob and twisted it all the way. There was no gradual warmth. Icy water came out, then turned to a scalding warmth in seconds.

He shoved his hands directly into the stream.

He hissed at the pain, but he didn’t take his hands away. He held them there, watching the skin flush an angry, vibrant red. His whole focus was on the burn, on the sharp, clean signal it was supposed to send to his deadened nerves.

He waited.

Time passed and stretched. His skin was screaming. His fingers were going numb. Maybe it would take seconds before it actually became a serious, first-degree burn. But he didn’t take his hands away.

Just a few more seconds. Break through. Feel something.

He waited, waited, and waited. And still, nothing came.

At night, right after he went to bed, his hands began to shake.

By the fifth day, the symptoms were no longer containable.

He had a meeting with Iseul, and he was waiting for her in the corridors, when one of the junior staff decided it was the perfect time to talk to him.

“Hey. How are you, Hyunjin?” The staff member asked him with a polite smile on his face. Hyunjin looked up from his phone, eyeing the man’s bushy brows and wide, doe-like eyes.

He couldn’t remember who this was. 

“Fine.”

The man didn’t take the hint. He continued talking.

“You look like you finally got some sleep," he said with a cheerful, offhanded chuckle, patting Hyunjin lightly on the arm. Hyunjin tensed instantly, his jaw locking. "Which is good! You looked a little... empty yesterday, to be honest. Like a corpse. It’s good to see you well again.”

Hyunjin went perfectly still. The word empty was like a spark on gasoline.

"What did you just say to me?"

The man’s eyes widened. "Oh… Did I come out rude? I didn’t mean-"

“Did I ask for your commentary?” Hyunjin  pocketed his phone, his hands still shaking as he stepped closer to the man, who instantly shifted back, like he was expecting an attack.

“I didn’t mean anything by that, I pro-"

“What the fuck did you mean then?”

“... I was just trying to make a conversation, Hyunjin-ssi.“

Hyunjin inhaled sharply, trying his best to regain control. This wasn’t something worth risking his career for. This wasn’t worth-

God, he wanted to smash something right in his face. See him bleed out dry right on the floor.

He ran a hand through his hair, his mouth set in a thin, white line.

“Get out of my face before you lose the job.”

The color on the man’s face drained. He gaped his mouth like a fish, trying to find an argument, something to reason him with, but they both knew it was futile.

Even if Hyunjin was in the wrong here, who would the company prefer to stay, the idol who made them millions or a mere staff member?

The man’s mouth moved without thought. “But you-"

“Now."

The man scurried off, his steps quick and loud in the silent hallway. Hyunjin slowly deflated, taking a seat on a nearby chair. He hunched over his form, his back heaving as he took breaths in.

In. Out. In. Out.

As the meeting with Iseul ended, he passed Jeongin, who was coming out of another room. The youngest took one look at Hyunjin's face, and instinctively took a step back, his usual warm greeting dying on his lips.

Hyunjin ignored him, focusing on getting away from the studio as fast as possible.

In. Out. In. Out.

Felix was still nowhere to be found.

He tried professionalism. He tried respecting that little boundary list.

He tried respect.

But it was no longer possible. His brain was fucking starved.

Hyunjin found Iseul in the hallway outside the dressing rooms a day after. He approached her instantly.

"Noona," he greeted, his tone deceptively light.

She glanced up, smiling at him. "What’s up?"

"I heard you're meeting Felix tonight. About his performance?"

Iseul's brow furrowed slightly. "How did you… Did Chan tell you?" Hyunjin nodded, and she shook her head, amused. "Yes, I am. Why?"

"Could that be rescheduled? Tomorrow, maybe?"

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing like that." Hyunjin's expression remained neutral, pleasant even. "I just need some time with him. To talk. It won't take long."

Iseul studied him for a moment, her brows furrowing even more. Something flickered in her gaze, concern, maybe, or suspicion, but she let it pass. "You two had a disagreement?"

Hyunjin smiled at her. "Something like that."

"This is getting exhausting, Hyunjin. Why can’t you get along?” She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. ”Alright, then. I'll move it to tomorrow. But keep it civil, yeah? Promise me you will.”

“Of course. You don’t have to worry.”

Iseul didn’t look fully convinced, but she nodded anyway. “I'll let Felix know the meeting's been pushed."

"I'll tell him myself," Hyunjin replied, too heavy for it to sound casual. "Which room were you supposed to meet?"

"We were supposed to meet here, on the second floor. Dressing room."

“Could I have the keys then?”

“What do you need the keys for?”

Hyunjin’s eye twitched. What was with the staff asking dumb questions recently? “Just to get in. Do you mind?”

Iseul eyed him, pausing. Then she dug in her pants, the keys clicking before she handed it out to him. “The studio will be empty. I trust you’ll take care of it.”

Hyunjin let out a breath of relief, sliding it into his back pocket. "Of course. You don’t have to worry. Thank you, noona."

The dressing room was small and dark. A worn couch against one wall, a table littered with half-empty water bottles. He arrived an hour before Felix was supposed to. He sat on the couch, hands folded in his lap, and waited.

The day had been long. Schedules packed so tightly there was barely room to breathe. Interviews, soundcheck, a meet-and-greet that stretched two hours past its time. He'd watched Felix through it all, smiling for fans, laughing at the right moments, his sunshine persona never wavering.

Like a piece of shit he was.

Hyunjin's gaze fixed on the digital clock on the wall. At the red numbers, garish and bright.

9:44 PM.

His thumb found the edge of the table. Back and forth. Back and forth. The wood grain caught under his nail, almost piercing his skin.

9:53.

The fluorescent bulb buzzed. A fly that was trapped inside the plastic bulb threw itself against the prison, again and again.

9:56.

His leg bounced. Once. Twice. He forced it still.

He'll come. He has to.

10:00.

But Felix was nowhere to be found.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He closed his eyes, and started counting all over again.

10:10… 10:12…

His thumbnail dug into the table hard enough to leave a crescent moon.

10:18…

And the door handle turned. Hyunjin's eyes snapped open. Every muscle in his body went taut.

“Noona, hello, I’m sorry I’m late, I just had to-"

Felix's voice cut off mid-sentence.

Hyunjin watched it happen in slow motion, almost. The exact moment Felix's brain processed what he was seeing. Not Iseul, but him.

Felix's face went white. Like every drop of blood had drained straight to his feet.

For three full seconds, neither of them moved.

Then Felix's hand shot out, grasping for the door handle behind him. His fingers scrabbled at it, clumsy with panic.

"Sit down, Felix,” Hyunjin finally spoke, his voice coming out calm, soft even.

Felix took a sharp step back. "No. I'm leaving."

Hyunjin’s first instinct was to lock the door and never let him out. Trap him. Make him understand. His hand instinctively went to his pocket, where his keys were. But he saw it then, the wild, cornered-animal panic in Felix’s eyes. The same expression he saw on Felix’s face when he felt cornered and stripped from any form of control, which, inevitably, led to him avoiding Hyunjin later on.

Hyunjin inhaled sharply, willing himself to calm down.

This wasn’t the right time. 

He watched Felix’s hand close around the handle, watched him yank the door open. He let him take one step into the hallway before he spoke again.

"You can’t even face me like a man?"

Felix stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned on his heel, looking at him with disdain. "Nobody is scared of you, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin’s eyes dropped to Felix’s hands, which were trembling on his sides.

Nobody is scared of him, huh?

Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle. "Sure."

Felix’s lip curled, whether in disgust or discomfort, Hyunjin wasn’t sure. He didn’t care enough to find out anyway.

"What do you want from me?" Felix snapped, his voice cracking. "Why the fuck can't you just let me be?"

“Let you be what? A child who runs from everything that makes him uncomfortable?”

"Is this about… I am just overwhelmed!" Felix's voice cracked on the word, pitching higher. "You can't seriously expect me to… I don't understand why you're even this angry, Hyunjin."

That was it. The final thread of Hyunjin’s control snapped.

He stood up, his every move controlled. He simply took a step forward. Then another.

Felix immediately took a step back.

“Stay away from me.”

Hyunjin took another step. “Why? Are you scared of a conversation?”

The fluorescent bulb stopped buzzing. The fly had stopped throwing itself against the plastic. Maybe it was dead. Maybe it had given up.

Felix's shoulders hit the wall with a dull thud.

The space between them vanished. Hyunjin could feel the heat radiating off Felix's body, could smell his shampoo and the sour edge of fear-sweat beneath it.

The pulse in Felix's throat was visible, too. Frantic. Like a trapped bird.

"Of course you were overwhelmed," he said, his voice low. "It's always about you, isn't it? Poor Felix, can't take accountability because of his feelings."

He paused, and Felix’s breath hitched, looking at him like Hyunjin was going to end him right there and then. "Do you think you're the only one who feels? Or are your emotions just more important than anyone else's?"

Felix made a small sound, half-gasp, half-whimper. He pressed himself into the wall like he wanted to vanish into it.

"I never said that! I was just overwhelmed! I just didn’t want to talk to you! But-"

"You are still playing the victim?" He laughed then, but it had no trace of humor in it. "Is that what you do? Use people, have sex with them, and run away?”

Felix thrashed. His shoulder collided with Hyunjin's chest as he twisted away, stumbling sideways. He put five feet between them, panting like he'd just ran a mile.

"I just needed space! Why can't you just…" Felix's voice cracked. "Why does everything have to be a fucking battle with you?"

Hyunjin snarled. "Are you upset I’m not making this easy for you? Just how pathetic can you be?"

Something in Felix’s expression was shifting, and the fear turned into rage in a blink of an eye.

"I’m not asking shit from you,” he spat, his voice low and full of threat. “So why is it so hard for you to just leave me the hell alone, Hyunjin? You never gave a shit about me and what I did. Let’s keep it that way."

Hyunjin felt a laugh bubble up his throat, dry and scorching.

Was Felix listening to himself? Did this motherfucker actually hear how absurd he sounded?

Hyunjin inhaled. Slow. Deep. Forced the oxygen into his lungs.

This wasn’t the right time.

God, he wanted to-

This wasn’t the right time.

"You used me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You came to my room. You asked for this. And then you ran away like a coward. Am I supposed to respect your space now, too? Tell me, Felix, do you deserve my compassion?"

Felix's mouth opened. Closed. And nothing came out of it.

Hyunjin shut his eyes, his hands forming into fists at his sides. In. Out. In. Out. Acting on his impulses never served him before. He had to stay in control. This was getting too out of hand already.

Seconds passed in pure, undisturbed silence. Second by second, Hyunjin regained the ability to think, the red haze receding from the edges of his vision. Finally, he said, “I’m going.”

He dug into his pocket for the keys and threw them near Felix. The metal clattered against the floor, jarring and too loud. “Lock the door.”

He turned his back, his hand closing around the doorknob.

And it all happened in a blink of an eye.

Hyunjin heard a jagged, choked sound, which sounded like a wounded animal in an unmanageable panic. And before he knew it, Felix was shoving past him, his shoulder connecting hard with Hyunjin's arm as he ripped the door open and fled from the room.

The door swung slowly shut behind him, leaving Hyunjin standing alone in the sudden, profound silence.

Hyunjin stared at it for a second, rage boiling inside, seeping through every crack and dip of his body, hot and all-consuming.

Felix had still so much to learn.

═════

It was Friday morning when Chan texted him.

Hey. Are you free tomorrow?

Hyunjin was in his room, alone, eyes barely open at seven in the morning. Sunlight cut through his window in bright slashes, grating on his already frayed nerves.

He unlocked his phone. Hello. For what?

Chan's reply came barely a minute later. I wanted to schedule in a dance practice tomorrow with Felix. Will you be free at 5 PM?

Something in Hyunjin's chest tightened. He sat up straighter.

Sure. What room?

Chan texted him all the details, and Hyunjin smiled, carrying that small spark of anticipation through the rest of the day. He barely saw Felix anywhere that day, just once, when Felix headed to the hotel gym on the third floor. When Felix noticed him, glaring daggers with no pretense of privacy at all, his eyes widened, and before Hyunjin could blink, he scurried off with hurried steps that echoed down the empty hallway. Running away again.

But Hyunjin didn't call out on it. Didn't move, either.

After all, it could wait.

They would have all the privacy they needed just a day later.

It was Saturday now, and Hyunjin had been sitting in the practice room for an hour before Felix arrived, feeling calm and, paradoxically, peaceful.

Felix still needed to understand. And Hyunjin would gladly help him in any way he could.

And rage was reckless in that sense, wasn't it? The core goal was to condition Felix not to avoid him again, so rage was very counterproductive. It wouldn't do shit other than leading to Felix avoiding him later on.

Felix still had to be in control.

So he sat on the floor against the mirror, tablet balanced on one knee, displaying a half-finished sketch he couldn't focus on, and he breathed. In for four counts. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

This wasn’t worth losing control over.

He heard Felix's footsteps in the hallway before the door opened.

The overhead lights flickered on. Felix stepped inside wearing loose sweatpants and a thin shirt that clung to his narrow shoulders. He stopped just past the doorway, frozen, looking at Hyunjin like a child awaiting permission to enter.

Hyunjin set the tablet aside and smiled. "Come in."

Felix gulped. “Are you sure? You don’t seem to be in a good mood. If you need space we can resched-“

Don't you fucking dare.

"No need." Hyunjin stood in one fluid motion. He began to stretch, rolling his shoulders, tilting his neck. His movements were unhurried. Almost lazy. "Come in, Felix."

Felix's pulse hammered visibly in his throat. After a long moment of hesitation, he dragged his feet into the room, the door closing shut behind him with a loud click.

Hyunjin caught Felix's gaze in the mirror. “Chan-hyung mentioned that Iseul told you to work on your stamina.”

Felix’s brow furrowed. “She did.”

“Good.” He paused, his voice still soft, friendly. “Then today, you’ll go against me.”

Felix froze. “What?”

“We’ll dance side by side. And for every mistake you make, you’ll start over again. And again. Until your form is indistinguishable from mine.”

He finally looked away from the mirror, his gaze landing directly on Felix.

Hyunjin smiled at him, gentle and warm.

Felix was silent for a second, his brow furrowed, observing him like he was trying to find a trap behind his pleasant expression.

"Is this a game? What are you-"

"This is just a session, Felix. I'm trying to help you."

Silence hung heavy in the air. Felix continued staring at him, confusion and suspicion clear on his face. Hyunjin could almost see the gears turning behind those wide eyes, could see Felix weighing his options, contemplating saying ‘no’.

But they both knew he wouldn't. His pride wouldn't allow it, first of all. He would never back away from a challenge, especially if it was physical, because in his ED-riddled brain, any type of pain equaled control. Like he was proving himself he could.

"Okay," Felix finally said, tone wary. "But I swear if this is one of your games…"

Hook, line, sinker.

Hyunjin shrugged. "I'm not holding you hostage, am I?" He gestured toward the door with one lazy hand. "You can leave anytime you want. Choose a song."

Felix moved to his phone, fingers scrolling through the playlist. His finger hovered for a heartbeat, then pressed. 'Easy' flooded the practice room… mid-tempo, deceptively simple. To be expected, really. Felix always chose that song to warm up.

The music filled space, jarring and uncomfortable.

Hyunjin took his position three feet to Felix's left. Close enough that Felix would catch every detail in the mirror. His body settled into the starting pose: weight low, shoulders loose, spine straight. 

"From the top.”

The beat dropped.

Felix's first steps were cautious and stiff. Like he was testing ice before committing his full weight to it. His face was tense, jaw tight, moving through the choreo while eyes tracked Hyunjin's every move in the mirror.

Hyunjin ignored him. He focused on his own body instead, making sure that every hit was like a punctuation mark, sharp and precise. His arms cut through the air, controlled but graceful, his landings making no noise on the floor despite the power behind them.

Minutes passed. The music was screaming in the room. Felix was still watching... But not his own reflection, Hyunjin's. Eyes wide and curious, transfixed, like he was witnessing something sacred. Something he couldn't quite understand.

Hyunjin's jaw clenched. Irritation prickled under his skin.

Wasn't Felix supposed to be the lead dancer? And here he was, attention span of a goldfish and the consistency worse than a trainee, proving he was anything but.

“Focus on your form, Felix,” he spat.

Felix jolted as if struck. His eyes snapped to his own reflection. He turned, spun, jumped, movements suddenly sharper, more deliberate. Like he was remembering he had a body out of a sudden.

His technique was solid overall. Commendable, even.

But solid was nowhere near enough. Hyunjin wanted perfection.

"Stop."

Felix stumbled to a halt, breathing already quicker than it was before. "What?"

"Your core collapsed on the jump, and you lost momentum."

Felix stared at him. "We haven’t even started yet, Hyunjin."

"A mistake is a mistake." Hyunjin reset his stance. He rolled his neck once - left, then right. The crack echoed through the room like a gunshot. "From the top."

Felix's jaw tightened.

The beat dropped again.

This time Felix over-corrected, his movements becoming stiff, mechanical. His arms were too straight, his transitions too sharp.

Hyunjin’s nerves frayed. How difficult can controlling your own body be, for fuck's sake?

“What the hell are you doing?” He stopped mid-movement, turning to face Felix directly.

“I’m dancing, Hyunjin.”

“Not like a human being. What are you, a machine?”

Felix's jaw clenched hard enough that Hyunjin could hear teeth grinding. “Instead of insulting me maybe you should help me. What kind of mentor are you?”

Hyunjin bit the inside of his cheek. And instead of lashing out like he wanted to, he pointed at the mirror. "Do it again. Watch yourself this time."

Felix inhaled sharply through his nose, then he did as instructed. He made it to count eight before his eyes grew curious, observing his own stiffness in the mirror like he was seeing it for the first time. Like this was some big revelation to him.

Hyunjin sighed aloud, annoyed. “From the top. Follow my form.”

He gave him no break, not even for water. And as thirty minutes passed, Felix was already slipping. His shirt was darkening with sweat at the collar, down his spine. His breath was audible now, harsh and rhythmic. Hyunjin’s shirt was darkened as well, but his movements remained sharp nonetheless.

He was dancing at maybe seventy percent effort now. But somehow, it still outclassed Felix's desperate hundred percent.

Which was Felix’s fault, really. If he weren't so negligent toward his own body, if he hadn't let himself deteriorate to this point, none of this would be happening.

"Control your expression," Hyunjin called out without stopping, still hitting every beat with almost mechanical precision. "You look like you're in pain."

The resistance was immediate. Felix panted, grimacing even as he tried to smooth his features. "I'm not in pain."

You’re such a child.

"From the top."

One hour in, and Felix's legs were shaking between songs.

Sweat dripped from his jaw, leaving dark spots on the practice room floor. The waistband of his sweatpants was completely soaked through, fabric clinging to his thin, delicate hips.

Hyunjin wasn’t doing that much better visually. His hair was plastered to his forehead, sweat running down his temples. But his form remained immaculate still, every line clean, every transition seamless, like his body was separate from his exhaustion.

Which it was. Because it wasn't that he was any less tired. But the main difference between them was endurance.

Hyunjin was used to this. He'd spent years using relentless physical practice as an outlet, pushing his body until the pain drowned out the numbness in his head. Until he could feel something, anything at all. Even if that something was just the burn in his muscles and the fire in his lungs screaming for help.

It was almost comforting, in a way. Familiar... Safe.

But Felix's main outlet was starvation. His body had nothing left to give because he'd been systematically denying it fuel for years already.

"Your timing on the spin is late," Hyunjin said, panting, but his voice was steady nonetheless, as steady as it could be, given an hour of relentless movement. "You've lost control. Now you just look desperate."

He turned to face Felix directly, noting the way Felix swayed slightly on his feet.

"Again."

Felix's hands formed into fists at his sides, trembling. "How are you not-"

"Stamina is discipline." Hyunjin was already resetting. "You don't have enough of either. Again."

The beat dropped.

Felix threw everything he had left into it. But his body was failing him now. His jumps lost height, coming down heavy and graceless. His landings were so loud and clumsy it shook the floor.

Hyunjin barely spared him a glance. He kept his focus on his own movements, feeling the pleasant ache settling deep in his muscles.

Just a bit more.

Two hours in, and Felix looked as if he were drowning. He had trouble concentrating on his form, stumbling forward like a drunk man instead. It seemed like he could barely breathe, his chest heaving and his mouth open, inhaling so quickly it seemed like no air on earth would be enough to save him anymore.

He didn’t look like he would last another minute.

Hyunjin stopped mid-dance, his voice carefully cautious, sounding genuinely concerned, but inside, he was anything but. “Are you okay? Do you need a break?”

Felix's jaw tightened. He wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve. "I'm fine."

“Are you sure? We can stop.”

“I said I’m fine, Hyunjin,” Felix spat, voice pained but not any less determined.

Of course.

Hyunjin nodded, barely containing a smile. You chose this yourself.

"Alright." Hyunjin stepped back into position. If Felix had been less exhausted, less focused on just staying upright, he might have caught the brief flash of satisfaction that crossed Hyunjin's face. "From the top."

Two and a half hours in, Felix was running on absolutely nothing.

There was no thought behind his movements anymore. No conscious decision. Just muscle memory being in charge of a failing body so it could endure choreography as long as possible.

But he was still going. Still moving. Like a barely functioning robot, but moving nonetheless.

Just a bit more.

Realistically, Felix couldn’t go any further. Not without ending in hospital, at least.

But Felix wasn't saying a word. At no point during this session did he ever try to leave. He never complained either. It was obvious he was trying to prove something. To Hyunjin, to himself... maybe both.

Which was commendable, really. But most of all, it was exactly what Hyunjin wanted from him.

But as two hours and forty minutes passed, Felix, out of a sudden, stopped, bracing his hands on his knees as he panted aloud, sweat dripping from his face and onto the floor like rain now.

"The door is unlocked,” Hyunjin reminded him, gesturing toward it without looking away from his own reflection. His chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths. Felix needed to understand that he still had control. "If you feel weak, you can leave. I won't think less of you."

The lie was so smooth it was almost convincing.

Felix's head snapped up. His eyes blazed through the haze of exhaustion, hatred and stubborn fire and something desperate all mixing together in that too-bright gaze.

He straightened up. Inch by agonizing inch. His spine went rigid with defiance despite the violent trembling in his legs.

He took his starting position one more time, and he lifted his chin.

"Again," he gritted out, the word aimed at himself as much as at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin felt a thrill so sharp it was almost painful.

He reset his stance. "From the top."

The music started, and they were halfway through the song before Felix's leg gave out mid-spin.

One moment he was turning, as smooth as his current, wrecked form allowed it, but the next, his knee buckled. He landed on the floor, crumpled, gasping, his cheek pressed against the cool wood.

He was broken.

Finally.

Hyunjin stopped dancing, too. He stood there for a moment, panting, looking down at Felix's trembling, heaving form. In no rush to help. In no rush to do anything at all.

Then he walked toward the phone in the corner, each step calm, measured, unhurried. As if there wasn't his own bandmate barely conscious on the floor behind him.

He unlocked Felix's phone and paused the music.

Silence in the room was louder than any noise could possibly be.

Hyunjin walked back over and stood above Felix's broken form.

He was barely able to walk properly himself. His vision swam at the edges, going dark and then light again in waves. Sweat dripped from his jaw onto the floor beside Felix's head…

drip, drip, drip.

But he was standing. Still upright. Still functional.

Which was more than could be said for Felix.

"Can you stand?" Hyunjin asked, his voice so soft one could mistake it for compassion.

Felix's hands pressed flat against the floor. His arms shook violently with the effort. He managed to lift himself maybe an inch before his strength gave out completely and he collapsed back down with a choked, broken sound.

"N-no."

"You want my help?"

Felix looked up through wet lashes. Tears of frustration and exhaustion mixed with sweat on his face. His whole body trembled, tremors running through him like an animal in shock.

Seconds ticked by.... Five, ten, twenty...

Nearly a full minute passed before Felix finally spoke, voice broken and small and ashamed. Like he was betraying some fundamental part of himself.

“…Yes, p-please…”

Hyunjin let out a breath, pleased. Was this too much to ask?

But he wasn't planning to help Felix. Not at all.

He took a step backward. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"Ah…" He paused, letting a sigh escape. "Actually, this is hard for me to process right now."

Felix blinked up at him. "What?"

"I'm overwhelmed." Hyunjin kept his voice gentle. Apologetic, even. "I need space to process my feelings. You understand, don't you?"

He took another step toward the door.

Felix called after him immediately.

"Are you-" His voice cracked, raw. "Is that about what happened? Why are you bringing this up n-now?"

And just like that, every bit of softness Hyunjin showed till now vanished.

This piece of shit.

"Did you think I would just let that shit go? Who the fuck do you take me for?"

Felix stared at him, perplexed, like he genuinely didn’t understand where Hyunjin was coming from. His eyes turned angry soon enough, but the contempt in his gaze was barely there, exhaustion overtaking him so much he couldn’t even put up a facade of indignation.

Which was funny, really. Here Felix was, crowned as the sweetest bandmate of them all, and he couldn’t even manage to see what he did wrong. If Hyunjin were a normal person, who was actually capable of feeling genuine heartbreak, this wouldn't have ended well. Felix was lucky in that sense. Hyunjin just wanted him to learn.

Hyunjin didn't move. Didn't offer help, either. Just waited, perfectly still, while Felix's chest heaved with each labored breath.

They could stand here for eternity. He genuinely didn't give a shit.

He just wanted Felix to realize.

And finally, finally, Felix did.

"I'm truly sorry, I… Hyunjin…" Felix's voice splintered completely. The words came out desperate and pathetic. "I'm s-sorry."

Hyunjin tilted his head, furrowing his brows. He let confusion settle across his features,  like he genuinely didn’t understand what Felix was saying.

"Oh?" His voice was light, interested. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I should have been responsible… I shouldn't have avoided you. Just please, I-I want water…"

That 'please' came out like a sob.

Hyunjin walked toward him, crouching so he was at Felix’s level. The space between them contracted to nothing. He could feel the heat radiating from Felix's body, could smell the salt of sweat and something sharper… fear, maybe. Panic.

"I'm not sure, Felix." Hyunjin kept his voice soft, contemplative. He let a small chuckle escape, barely more than an exhale. "Helping you will impact my mental health negatively. I have to put myself first, you know?" His smile widened just a fraction. "What other option is there, really?"

And out of a sudden, the anger returned. Felix looked up at him with so much disdain that it was a wonder how he could manage it into his own slight form.

"Y-You're such a cruel motherfucker, Hyunjin."

The anger didn’t bother Hyunjin at all. His smile didn't waver. If anything, it softened, became almost fond. Like this was a compliment to him.

Which it was. Coming from Felix, especially.

"I'm cruel?" He said, each word spoken like a caress, but not any less venomous. "I'm not the one who is using people for sex and refusing to take accountability for it, am I?"

Felix inhaled sharply through his nose. His eyes squeezed shut, like Hyunjin's words had physically hurt him. Which they should, really.

Felix was losing a moral battle against him. Which was genuinely laughable, given that Hyunjin never had a moral compass to begin with.

A genuine look of guilt passed across Felix's face then. His eyes dropped to the floor. 

"I-I'm truly sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you like that. I didn’t mean…” Felix hunched over himself, hiding his face in his hands. And what he said after came out with a sob, sharp and piercing in the quiet room. “I’m sorry."

But unfortunately for him, Hyunjin didn't care about his pathetic apologies. 

"Will you avoid me again?" He kept his voice gentle. As if he were talking to a child.

Felix shook his head frantically. "N-no." His voice was wrecked. "No."

"What will you do then?"

"I'll-" Felix swallowed hard. Hyunjin watched his throat work. "I'll talk to you about it. I'm truly sorry, Hyunjin. I mean it."

Hyunjin leaned in closer, eliminating what little space remained. The practice room shrank to just this – just the two of them, the stale air and the suffocating proximity.

"If you pull shit like that again, there will be no warning. One slip and I'll make sure it hurts. Got it?"

Felix made a tiny, desperate sound.

Hyunjin's hand shot out to Felix’s bony shoulder. He pressed. Hard.

"I asked you a question."

Felix flinched back, the hands flying away from his face.

"Okay, okay!"

The plea came out broken, pathetic. But it was satisfying. For now, at least.

Hyunjin let him go, leaning back to stare at him for a long moment, cataloging every twitch, every tremor, every microexpression that flickered across Felix's face. 

He straightened up, muscles screaming in protest as he stood. He made his way to the water bottle sitting in the corner of the room, which was the only one left.

Felix tracked his every move like a wild animal, but Hyunjin didn’t glance at him for even a second. He unscrewed the cap, and returned to Felix, his every step quiet and unhurried.

“Here,” he said, looking down at Felix's form as he extended the bottle.

Felix grabbed it with trembling hands, nearly dropping it twice before bringing it to his lips. He drank desperately, fast and uncontrolled.

Hyunjin just watched him, no trace of emotion on his face.

But inside, he was anything but unfeeling.

The last of the withdrawal symptoms faded away. The rage was gone, finally, burned away by three hours of Felix's exquisite suffering. His own muscles ached pleasantly. His lungs burned. But his mind was clear. Satisfied.

He could finally breathe.

And Felix looked beautiful while he suffered, too. Like a delicate marionette dangling helplessly on the strings of his own desperation.

"You did well," Hyunjin said softly, and he meant it. Felix had given him exactly what he asked for.

Felix's eyes lifted to his, exhausted, confused, still tinged with that stubborn pride.

Hyunjin smiled at him.

"Can I do anything else for you?"

Felix pulled the bottle away from his lips. "Can you b-bring me a towel?"

"Is it in your bag?"

Felix gave him a weak nod.

Hyunjin walked to the bag sitting against the wall. He crouched down, rummaged through until he found the white towel folded at the bottom. He walked back to Felix's hunched form and handed it to him.

Felix spent a long moment just collecting himself. Dabbing the cloth over his face, his neck, his arms. His hands were still shaking badly enough that the towel trembled in his grip.

Hyunjin offered him a hand. "Stand up."

Felix stared at the hand for a moment, not moving. And just as Hyunjin was getting annoyed at waiting for him to act, he took it, his hand clammy and feverish in Hyunjin's.

Hyunjin pulled him up slowly, carefully, steadying him when he swayed on his feet. He grabbed both their bags, slung them over his shoulder, and walked toward the door. Felix followed him like a lost puppy, every bit of his energy completely gone.

But as they walked in the hallway, his legs nearly gave out. Hyunjin caught him by his waist, positioning himself behind Felix so he could guide him more safely to his room.

"Almost there," he said softly, whispering it into Felix’s ear.

When they reached the third floor, Hyunjin accompanied him to his room, gently guiding him inside. Felix sank into the mattress like a stone dropping into water.

Hyunjin set Felix’s bag down by the door and walked out of the room. "Get some rest."

Felix never responded back to him.

═════

It was barely eight in the morning, and the hotel lounge was busier than usual. People moved around with plates in their hands, the breakfast service table crowded with early risers.

Hyunjin had finished his own meal, but now he stood before the table again, brow furrowed as he contemplated his options.

Would a simple fruit bowl work? Felix didn't have much capacity for heavy meals. Low-calorie options would be better, wouldn't they?

What did Felix even eat normally? Hyunjin could barely remember. Bananas? He'd seen him with a sandwich once, but barely twenty minutes later Felix had returned with puffy undereyes and pinprick-sized red spots on his forehead, probably due to his capillaries breaking from purging.

No sandwiches, then.

He picked up a small fruit bowl. Kiwis, apples, strawberries. It even had a sticker showing the nutritional information. 240 calories.

Hyunjin tore the sticker off and dropped it in a nearby trash can.

Felix didn't need to know that.

“Hyunjin?”

He stopped, turning slowly. Minho stood by him, his arms crossed.

“Yes?”

Minho eyed him with suspicion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking breakfast for Felix.”

Minho paused for a second, looking genuinely thrown off. “Oh.”

Hyunjin continued scanning the table for something else… a snack, maybe. But there was nothing he knew Felix would actually eat. Chan had texted him a list after showing him the medical files, but Hyunjin hadn't paid much attention. He'd been more focused on the medical files themselves Chan had sent, on the words printed in dark, bold letters:

“… The core of ED appears not to be driven by distortion of body image, though some elements are present. Rather, the restrictive behaviors function as a maladaptive coping mechanism for underlying issues of control and self-efficacy.

Patient exists in a high-demand, high-stakes environment where his schedule, creative output, and public persona are almost entirely externally managed. He describes feeling of ‘not having any power’ in his professional and personal life.

In this context, controlling food intake becomes a coping mechanism from which he can reassert control over himself. Restriction provides a tangible, immediate sense of mastery and order.”

“Do you know what Felix enjoys?” Hyunjin asked, curious.

“Just the bowl would be fine,” Minho replied, then paused. “But why are you-”

“I’m trying to help him, hyung.”

Minho blinked. “Oh.”

He didn’t say anything for a second, and just as Hyunjin was about to leave, he stopped him.

“I want to ask you about yesterday.”

Hyunjin turned his head, his brow furrowed. “Yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Minho nodded. “When I saw Felix, he looked exhausted. I asked him and he said it was because of practice. What happened?”

Of course. Hyunjin shouldn't even be surprised. Was he about to receive another warning about hurting Felix? Jisung and Chan's lectures weren't enough?

Felix, apparently, hadn’t elaborated on why he was exhausted, which wasn’t surprising either. How would he explain everything without mentioning what he had done first?

Hyunjin took a moment to choose his words carefully. “He had to work on his stamina, and I challenged him. That was all.”

Minho didn’t look convinced. “That was all?”

Hyunjin heaved out a sigh, irritation prickling under his skin. What did Minho think? That Hyunjin had beaten his little princess to a pulp while he was gone?

“Yes, hyung.”

The older man eyed him, suspicion still clear in his eyes. “Why would you push him beyond his limit, Hyunjin?”

“Knowing his limits isn’t my responsibility. I repeated to him that he could stop anytime he wanted, but he didn’t.”

Minho still had that suspicion in his eyes, but finally, he sighed, giving up. “Did he do well at least?”

Hyunjin restrained the urge to breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah.” He nodded, his voice soft. “He doesn’t struggle with controlling his body as much as before. He can endure longer hours, too.”

“Good, good.” Minho gave him a brief smile, but it was restrained, barely there. “But don’t be so harsh on him. We have another show in three days. He can’t endure everything at once, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He turned on his heel, deeming the conversation over, but Minho stopped him.

“Seungmin-ah was searching for you earlier.”

Hyunjin glanced back. “Why?”

“He wanted to ask you something, I guess.”

“I’ll text him later.”

Minho smiled at him, but it wasn’t pleasant at all. Almost like he was warning him. “Okay. See you, then.”

Hyunjin nodded, turning to leave. Minho’s restrained anger was temporary, as usual, so it wasn't a big deal. He walked out from the lounge and took the stairs up to the third floor.

Felix’s room was right by the elevator, and he knocked on it, the fruit bowl in his hand.

For a moment, he didn’t hear anything. There were no sounds coming from the room.

Was Felix asleep? But that wasn’t likely. He was a morning person, wasn’t he?

He pushed the door, testing if it was open, and just as he applied pressure, opening the door just a fraction, Felix pushed it from the inside.

Felix stood there, his movements sluggish with exhaustion, wearing loose sleep pants and a thin t-shirt. His eyes, bleary, stared at Hyunjin for a moment, like he didn’t recognize him. But almost immediately, they widened in alarm.

“What… What are you doing here?”

“I brought breakfast,” Hyunjin replied simply. “Can I come in?”

“Oh…” Felix paused for a second, and he looked genuinely confused, eyes taking in Hyunjin’s form, like he was seeing a stranger.

He stepped aside then, and Hyunjin stepped forward in response, coming into his messy, ragged room.

He looked at the rumpled bed, the plastic containers on the drawer beside it. He turned to Felix, eyeing him with an arched brow.

And he noticed it then, how awful he looked. Felix was swaying slightly on his feet, his eyes tired, barely focused as he stared back at him, trying to figure out what he came for. The shirt he wore was stained with a dark drink, and no part of him even indicated that he was recovering from the day before.

Hyunjin’s eyes dropped to his pants then, and he noticed a dark, crimson stain blooming through the grey fabric, high on his outer thigh. It was already the size of a palm and growing.

It was undeniably blood.

What the fuck was Felix doing while he was gone? Undergoing a whole battle by himself?

Hyunjin set the bowl down on the sofa nearby, crossed the room in two strides, and grabbed Felix’s wrist. “Come on.”

The resistance was immediate, overriding every bit of exhaustion Felix seemed to feel. “Get away from me!”

Hyunjin's grip tightened. "You're bleeding."

"I don't-" Felix tried to plant his feet, to resist, but Hyunjin was already pulling him toward the bathroom. "Stop-"

"Felix." Hyunjin's voice was flat and final.  He pulled him, with more force this time, into the bathroom. "You're going to get an infection. Let me look at it."

He nudged Felix back until his legs hit the edge of the tub. “Take off your pants.”

Felix’s exhaustion-addled brain had cleared, and now he glared at him, like Hyunjin just asked something amoral. “Why do you care?”

Hyunjin slowly raised his head, his eye twitching.

Felix was right. Why did it concern him, even? He should leave Felix alone with his untreated wound, so he would get an infection and weaken his immunity. Hyunjin should let him rot here, shouldn’t he?

“Look down at your leg,” he said, trying to keep his annoyance at bay. Felix did, and his eyes widened at the amount of blood staining his pants.

“Oh.”

Hyunjin sighed, deep and tired. He kneeled on one leg, his fingers hooking into the waistband of Felix’s pants. “Can I take this off?”

After a moment of hesitation, Felix nodded, his wide eyes locked on him, almost unblinking.

Hyunjin didn’t pay him much mind.

He tugged the sweatpants down in one efficient motion, past the knees, exposing the thin, pale line of Felix’s thigh.

The cut was there, about three inches long, not deep, but gaping. It wasn’t serious, fortunately, but it was weeping a steady, lazy stream of blood that traced a path down his leg and onto the white porcelain below.

Hyunjin eyed the wound, his mind racing through the reason why. He looked at the clean, linear nature of it. Did he do this to himself? Is this his pathetic response to the pressure? And the possibility that it indeed was not just likely. It was actually most likely, given Felix’s terrible coping mechanisms.

His eyes flicked up to Felix’s face, then back to the cut. He stood up. “Where do you keep the antiseptic?”

“It’s in the shelf. By the bed.”

Hyunjin returned moments later with the white plastic box. He knelt again, his movements brisk and purposeful. He cleaned the area with a gauze pad, the alcohol making Felix hiss and tense up.

“Sit still,” Hyunjin instructed, and Felix, fortunately, had enough sense to listen, barely moving as Hyunjin tended the cut.

He analyzed the cut further, his gaze then drifting to the rest of Felix’s leg. It was smooth from the knee down, meticulously shaved. But from the knee up, there was a sparse, soft hair… So had Felix been shaving before Hyunjin came and slipped? He remembered Felix’s bare body, and as far as he could tell, it was smooth, with barely any scars or bumps on his skin.

What was the possibility that he would start harming himself now?

Still, he had to be sure. He looked up at Felix. “Was this an accident?”

Felix held Hyunjin’s gaze for a long, unnerving moment, his expression unreadable.

“Why do you care?”

Hyunjin’s hands stilled. The truth, ‘Because I need you functional, you piece of shit,’ sat on his tongue, but it wasn’t the right time to show frustration now.

Why was Felix the one his dead neurons responded to? Why couldn’t it be Chan, Jeongin, or hell, Jisung, even? Why the fuck had it to be the most self-destructive person in the group?

Hyunjin tried to not let his annoyance get the better of him. “I’m your bandmate, Felix.”

“A bandmate who set up everything yesterday just to break me.” Felix's jaw clenched. “Sure.”

Hyunjin raised a brow. “Are you a victim of that too?”

“I’m not saying I was a victim, Hyunjin,” Felix retorted. “I know I stayed. But does that mean anything?”

“I never took away your freedom to choose. If you chose to endure it, what does that make you?”

Felix didn’t respond, just watched him, his eyes heavy. Hyunjin straightened, pulling back to his full height. He looked down on Felix, who pulled his pants up, still perched on the tub’s edge, pale and exhausted.

Felix's eyes traveled slowly, deliberately, starting from Hyunjin’s jaw, to his shoulders, then his collarbones peeking through the shirt. It was the longest, most thorough look Hyunjin had ever received from him, devoid of fear or suspicion. Almost like Felix was assessing him.

And then, with a strange, unnatural calm, Felix slid off the tub, planting his bare feet on the cold tile. He moved closer, closing the small, safe gap Hyunjin always maintained. He kept coming, until they were almost chest to chest, the scent of antiseptic and sleep clinging to him.

Felix had to crane his neck slightly, his breath, soft and warm, ghosting over Hyunjin's lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

Hyunjin’s brow furrowed, his mind scrambling to process what Felix was asking now.

What?

Felix mistook the silence for consent. His eyes, dark and determined, dropped to Hyunjin’s mouth. He leaned in, and his lips brushed the corner of Hyunjin’s. Soft and hesitant.

Hyunjin didn’t respond, but that didn’t deter Felix in the slightest. He grazed his lips against his, caressing him before he carefully parted his mouth and took Hyunjin’s lip between his own, kissing him slowly, deeply.

And for a heartbeat, Hyunjin’s body betrayed him.

His left hand moved without conscious thought, splaying low on the small of Felix's back. His fingers pressed into smooth, bare skin just above the waistband, feeling the warmth of it, the slight tremor running through Felix's frame. He pulled, vanishing what little space remained between them until their bodies were as close as they could be.

A sharp, startled sigh escaped Felix, warm against his mouth, and Hyunjin felt the dizzying pull to just surrender to the sensation. Not question it at all.

After all, what was there to question? Felix was here, willing, pressing close-

But then he felt it. How Felix smiled into the kiss.

It was a tiny thing, not even an expression, but it sent a different kind of jolt through Hyunjin, washing over him like cold water. Because he recognized it for what it was. He felt exactly what Felix was feeling now.

It was triumph. Victory.

Felix felt like he had won.

Hyunjin froze, trying to figure out why despite Felix making it hard to think clearly.

And it struck him a second later.

Of course.

A laugh bubbled in Hyunjin’s chest. He had to bite the inside of his cheek from letting it out in the air.

Oh, you clever, naive thing.

Felix was using the only weapon he thought he had. His body. And he was using it as leverage to gain control, to shift the power back in his favor. Trying to make Hyunjin his puppet, controllable through desire alone.

And it was working.

Should I let him have it? Hyunjin wondered, genuinely considering the idea. It wasn’t like he was against Felix fighting back. Broken Felix was worth nothing to him, not if that meant that Felix would lose the ability to feel… But why should Hyunjin make it easy? When Felix was so close to actually manipulating him successfully?

Hyunjin let the kiss linger for seconds, his hand still on Felix’s skin, caressing it gently, slowly, savoring it, almost. Then, with agonizing slowness, he broke the contact, pulling back just enough to speak, his voice low and intimate.

“Get off me.”

Felix froze, his lips still parted. “But I wanted to-"

"Get the fuck off me while I'm asking you nicely."

Felix flinched back as if burned, stumbling against the sink, his face falling, his confidence now all gone.

Hyunjin watched him with interest.

One would think, with how much confidence Felix had showed, that this wasn't his first time pulling a move like this. Which was probably true. Felix was apparently accustomed to getting what he wanted through his body alone. Or was he just confident it would work on Hyunjin, specifically?

Nonetheless, it worked just fine. And if Hyunjin wasn’t able to feel what Felix felt, if he hadn't caught that spike of triumph beneath the kiss, Felix probably would have succeeded. Maybe not long-term, because nobody was that dumb to not recognize what Felix was trying to do, but in that moment? Undeniably.

Which was impressive, really.

One night with him and Felix had already identified Hyunjin's weakness. Had already tried to exploit it. Had nearly succeeded in exploiting it.

Hyunjin eyed him.

What a fascinating, broken logic you operate on.

He reached out slowly and cupped Felix's heated cheek while Felix was panting, his eyes wide, staring at him like Hyunjin could end his life there and then. His thumb stroked once over the flushed skin, pressing just hard enough to make it redden further beneath his touch.

He leaned in close, bringing his lips to Felix forehead and placed a small, tender kiss.

Felix flinched back. Almost like he expected to be hit.

“Try harder next time, angel.”

Felix’s breath hitched, and Hyunjin leaned back, smiling at him. He dropped his hand, walking out of the bathroom as if nothing had happened at all.

“Don’t you want breakfast?” he called over his shoulder, his tone now casual.

He didn’t hear a response for a second, and he was about to glance back when Felix spoke again.

"I had a protein bar already." His voice came out small. Defeated. "Binnie-hyung gave it to me."

Hyunjin paused in the doorway, looking back at him with his brow raised. “And you think that’s enough to sustain you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Reaching back, he snagged Felix’s wrist and pulled him from the bathroom. “Come on.”

Felix followed him with his unsteady steps, and as they made it into the bedroom, Hyunjin smiled, looking him over with way more interest than he had done before.

What’s your next move? He wondered.

Suddenly, adrenaline rushed through him, sharp and electric.

Chapter Text

"I had the biggest fight with Jisungie yesterday.”

Felix blinked. “Oh?”

Minho continued to scroll on his phone, acting unbothered, but the tension in his posture implied the opposite. “Did you know that he didn’t give it up?”

“Give up what?”

“He’s still smoking. I found two empty packs of cigarettes in his trash.” Felix opened his mouth to answer, but he was quickly interrupted by a member of the staff.

“Felix!” Iseul called from across the room, waving at him. “Chaewon is asking for you; you have to change soon!”

Felix couldn’t help but grimace. He’d forgotten about that. How long had he been standing there, exactly? “I’ll be there in a minute, noona.”

Iseul nodded, giving him a thumbs-up. Felix looked at Minho again. “Didn’t he quit last month?”

Minho released a heavy sigh. Felix frowned, studying him. When had he ever seen Minho look this tired? “He told Channie he did. Apparently not. I think he’s smoking more now than before.”

All Felix could manage was an awkward, “Oh.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he wrapped an arm around Minho’s shoulders, offering comfort the only way he knew. “He’ll be fine, hyung.”

“The doctor told him to stop, Lix-ah. His lungs are damaged,” Minho said flatly. “For fuck’s sake, even if he doesn’t care about his health, he can’t sing like this. I told-”

The backstage door swung open. Minho fell silent. Both of them watched as Seungmin walked in, seemingly oblivious to the thick air in the room.

“Hey.” Seungmin waved casually. “Aren’t you two changing?”

Minho snickered. “You’re wearing your own clothes too, Seungmin-ah.”

“I was about to go.”

“We were too.”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

Minho retorted with something, but Felix didn’t pay much attention. His eyes tracked another figure who stepped into the room after Seungmin, never even sparing anyone a glance.

Hyunjin.

He was still wearing his own clothes: an oversized hoodie and sweats. The hood’s beanie covered his hair, a few strands falling into his eyes, which he didn’t bother to push back. He walked straight past Felix and headed for the vending machine in the corner. A soft hum escaped his lips as he surveyed the options, then typed in a code.

Felix’s body went rigid. His eyes locked onto Hyunjin’s back as if expecting an attack.

Whir. Clunk.

Hyunjin bent down to grab a bottle of water.

“Channie-hyung was looking for you,” Seungmin said to Minho, rummaging through his bag in the corner.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. He looked kind of worried, though.”

Felix’s eyes were still on Hyunjin, who stood there for a second, staring at the machine, before he finally turned his head. His gaze swept over Minho, then landed heavily on Felix. Felix held his breath without even meaning to, watching Hyunjin analyze him from head to toe as if he were a problem to be solved.

Hyunjin didn’t seem bothered by his discomfort. "Have you eaten today, Felix?"

Felix stiffened further. "I have."

"What did you eat?"

Felix opened his mouth. Seungmin stopped talking too, looking at him expectantly, his gaze suspicious.

Felix could almost hear his heart drumming against his ribs as his mind scrambled for a convincing lie. "I had a-"

"He hasn't.” Minho betrayed him. When Felix looked at him, his hyung’s gaze was narrowed, mouth in a tight line, showing no guilt.

Hyunjin nodded, as if he’d expected nothing less. He turned back to the machine, typed another code, and retrieved a packaged chocolate bar. He walked over to where Felix sat and held it out to him.

He didn't say a thing, just waited for him to take it, looking impassive himself.

Felix hesitated, staring at the plastic wrapper. He looked at the others; they were all staring at him, tracking his every move. He gulped, and when he finally took the bar, Hyunjin walked away immediately. He slumped into the chair in the far corner, uncapped his water, and pulled his iPad onto his lap, instantly scratching out a sketch on the screen with his stylus.

The chocolate bar felt like a lead weight in Felix's hands.

He didn’t want-

"Eat it," Minho said. "You need the energy for today. It’s a three-hour set, Felix."

"I'm not hungry, hyung," Felix whispered. "I’ll eat later."

Seungmin sighed. “You can’t run on nothing, Lix.”

“I’m not running on nothing. I’ll eat. I-”

"Please," Minho said softly. "Just a few bites. For me?"

Felix gulped, clutching the bar in his hand, almost like he was trying to hide it from the others' scrutinizing gazes.

"Why are you even trying, hyung?"

Felix’s eyes snapped up, looking at Hyunjin, who didn't even look up from his screen. "Let him faint on stage. We all know how weak he truly is."

Something inside Felix snapped. The shame curdled instantly into hot, blinding anger. "I'm not weak."

"Have you looked at yourself lately?"

"I said, I’m not weak,” Felix gritted out.

“We might have to take him to a doctor to check his eyesight.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

But his anger seemed to only amuse Hyunjin. The dancer chuckled, like this was some entertainment for him. “It's kind of funny, you know. You want to be taken seriously while you can't even feed yourself properly." He tilted his head. "Pathetic, don't you think?"

Minho was quick to intervene. “Stop it, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin didn’t seem phased at all. He smiled at the older man, his tone soft. “Why should I? So he can keep getting weaker?”

Felix felt the sting of tears behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He threw the chocolate bar onto the cushion next to Minho and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Weak. Pathetic.

The concert passed in a blur.

Every time their formations crossed, Felix glared at the back of Hyunjin’s head. Anger boiled in his veins, making his movements sharper, more aggressive. He wanted Hyunjin to look at him. He wanted Hyunjin to show at least a bit of humanity, some type of regret. Even a tiny bit would have been enough.

But Hyunjin didn't spare him a single glance. He performed as if it were just a regular Thursday for him.

As they walked off stage for the first ment, Felix was panting, his chest heaving, rage simmering deep in his gut. He was about to ask for a towel when someone standing beside him handed one out with a lazy hand.

He glanced at the towel, his eyes flickering up to the person extending it. No wonder - it was Hyunjin, who was dabbing a towel on his face with his other hand, unbothered as usual.

Felix’s teeth ached with the need to taste Hyunjin’s blood on his tongue.

“You’re so emotional, Felix,” Hyunjin said casually, and then hung the small towel on Felix’s shoulder. “If what I said wasn’t true, it wouldn’t affect you at all.”

Felix’s eyes blazed with rage. “And you're a cunt, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin laughed, already walking toward the stylist, who was gesturing for him to come closer.

Felix glared at Hyunjin’s back, standing in the middle of the suffocating room, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists. He felt tears threatening to spill from his lids, but he refused to let them fall, not willing to let Hyunjin see just how his every word affected him.

Because deep down, beneath the hurt, Felix knew the worst part wasn't that Hyunjin was cruel.

It was that Hyunjin was honest.

Weak. Pathetic.

Minho appeared at his side, handing him a water bottle. When Felix didn’t take it, Minho looked at who he was glaring at and sighed, deep and tired.

"He just cares about you, Yongbok. I know he can be-"

“He’s just a narcissist, hyung,” he gritted out. “He doesn’t care about anyone except himself.”

“If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t want you to be stronger, Lix-ah. He shouldn’t have said that earlier, and I’ll talk to him about it, but please, don’t make a scene.”

Felix wanted to scream.

A day went by. They had just finished an interview for an American show and were on a break. It was loud in the way only waiting rooms ever were. Plastic chairs scraping, staff calling names, the low hum of cameras being tested somewhere down the hall. Felix sat at a narrow table by the wall with Seungmin, a tray between them. Rice, grilled chicken, something green he didn’t even recognize.

He didn’t want that shit anywhere near-

Seungmin popped open his water and nudged Felix’s elbow with his own. “You’re eating?”

Felix nodded. “Sure, sure. It’s just… you know… I’m tired.”

“Ah, me too. I promised Innie I’d go out with him today to shop, but I don’t think we have enough time for that.” Seungmin tore open a packet of sauce with his teeth. “Eat before Minho-hyung starts hovering again, Lix-ah.”

Felix picked up his chopsticks reluctantly and rolled them once between his fingers. He took a small bite, chewed carefully, as if moving too fast would make his body revolt.

He was about to swallow when he felt a presence near him. Felix looked up.

Hyunjin pulled out the empty chair across from him and sat down without asking, one long leg stretched out, the other tucked in casually. He had a paper cup of coffee in one hand, and he smiled at them in greeting.

Felix instantly tensed up.

Seungmin blinked. “Uh… Hyunjin?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“There were too many people in that room.” He lifted his cup and took a sip. “You don’t mind me here, do you?”

Seungmin hesitated, glanced at Felix, then shook his head. “No. I mean… Okay, sure. Sit.”

Felix said nothing. He just stared at Hyunjin, openly suspicious, like he was waiting for the punchline. Hyunjin finally lifted his eyes, caught Felix’s gaze, and smiled. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and didn’t say anything, just scrolled on the screen. As if this was usual for them to do. 

Felix’s shoulders stayed tense anyway. Hyunjin’s presence pressed in on him, and he immediately wanted to walk away.

Seungmin cleared his throat and leaned in. “So,” he said lightly, “Did you see?"

Felix’s eyes slowly flickered to Seungmin. "See what?"

"Chan." Seungmin grinned. "When that guy asked him how he got so ripped, he was so red. Like we don’t tell him that every day.”

Felix chuckled. “He’s so shy.”

“Shy? He walks around shirtless every day! He’s just a sucker for compliments. I told him once that black suited him and I basically saw him go weak at the knees.”

Felix couldn't help but laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing for a bit. They kept talking about the interview, about Changbin stealing snacks again. About nothing important. Felix kept eating, as slow as a snail, painfully aware of every movement of his chopsticks. Every swallow felt observed, even if he checked numerous times to see if Hyunjin was looking.

But Hyunjin was just sitting there, not paying them much attention. He seemed to be in his own world, scrolling through his phone and not glancing at them at all.

Weak. Pathetic. The words crawled up Felix’s spine anyway.

He took another bite. Then another. His stomach protested quietly, but he ignored it, jaw tightening as he forced himself through half the tray.

Because he didn’t even want to imagine Hyunjin’s reaction if he didn’t. There was no doubt that, unlike the others, Hyunjin wouldn’t have that worried look on his face or pat him on his shoulder, pleading “Felix, just please…”. Hyunjin would probably just laugh straight to his face in that arrogant, derisive way of his and say, “You can’t even do this on your own? Do you need a nanny, Felix?”.

Felix continued eating, determined to finish all of his meal.

Seungmin noticed, eyebrows lifting just a fraction, but said nothing.

When Felix finally set his chopsticks down, Hyunjin stood.

“Good luck,” he said to no one in particular, already turning away.

Felix watched him go, pulse loud in his ears, unsure whether he felt victorious for proving Hyunjin wrong or just ashamed that he was so easily moved by him.

I just don’t want to give him the satisfaction of humiliating me. It’s not about him at all. It’s not.

Felix noticed Hyunjin lurking around his meals the next day as well. It was at the hotel lounge. Felix stood near the counter with a plate in his hands. He chose toast with eggs. After debating it for five minutes, he added a small piece of fruit as well.

Safe things.

He sat alone at a small table by the window. But that lasted for exactly five minutes.

Hyunjin appeared with the same unhurried ease, hair still slightly damp, hoodie hanging loose on his frame. He brought himself a drink from the counter nearby, pulled out the chair opposite Felix, and sat.

He didn’t even bother to greet him, acting like this was some ritual they both shared.

Felix froze, fork hovering halfway to his mouth.

Hyunjin didn’t even acknowledge him. He stared out the window, phone face-down on the table now, steam curling faintly from his cup.

Felix’s chest tightened, and without a thought, he ate, more determined than before.

Weak. Pathetic.

He ate faster.

When his plate was empty, Felix leaned back, breath shallow, fingers curling around the edge of the table. Only then did Hyunjin stand, lifting his coffee.

“See you later,” he said casually, already walking away.

Felix stared at the empty chair long after he was gone, heart still racing, unsure when eating had started to feel like a test.

What the hell was Hyunjin even doing?

The next day, Felix started to anticipate it.

Hyunjin appeared everywhere food did, like a fixed rule of the universe Felix had somehow triggered. Lunch after rehearsal? Hyunjin sat two tables away, back turned, some book in his hand. Dinner during a break? Same coffee, same silence, chair dragged close enough that Felix could feel the space tighten. Breakfast before the show? Hyunjin already there, later than everyone else, untouched pastry beside his cup like a prop.

And the worst thing was that he never spoke. He never told Felix to eat.

But Felix ate anyway.

He couldn’t even breathe if he didn’t.

Felix didn’t feel free anymore. Not in his body, not in the spaces he moved through. Even though eating was his choice, something he fully controlled, something Hyunjin never outwardly ordered or threatened him to do, it still felt like his body was a puppet and it moved the fork on command.

He felt like a marionette.

He didn’t want this.

Felix could feel food sticking under his skin, around his ribs, clinging to his thighs. Every extra bite settled somewhere permanent, like it was proof of a failure he’d have to carry on stage. Something everyone could see. Late at night, he was on his phone, scrolling through social media under hashtags with his name, trying to see what his fans thought, if he looked disgusting enough for it to be noticeable.

But no one said anything, fortunately. Still, it wasn’t enough to calm him down.

By the fourth day, the urge to vomit was screaming.

He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, counting breaths, listening for movement in the hallway. He desperately needed to go. He waited until he could no longer hear footsteps.

And only then did he slip out.

The hotel bathroom was empty, lights harsh and unforgiving. Felix locked himself into a stall, hands shaking as he knelt. His heart hammered so loud he was sure someone would hear it through the walls.

And it all went as he was used to. Sticking his fingers in his throat, choking on his vomit until nothing was left, heaving under the pressure as cold sweat dripped down his forehead. He rinsed his mouth again and again until it burned, trying to be as fast as possible. He washed his face, his hands, scrubbed under his nails. He took paper towels and pressed them carefully to his lips, his chin, the corners of his mouth.

He didn’t let go of that towel until he knew there was nothing left on his face.

No one will notice. You’re just being paranoid. He’s not here.

He checked his eyes in the mirror. Wiped again, slower this time. Just to be sure. And when he finally left the bathroom and was just a step away from the elevator, the doors opened, and...

Felix had the worst luck, really.

Hyunjin was stepping out of his room across the hall, Jeongin beside him, animated, mid-sentence, gesturing wildly with his hands. Felix couldn’t even think of hiding before both of them looked up and noticed him.

Jeongin smiled instantly. “Hyung! Hey!”

All Felix could respond with was silence.

“Hyung, are you alright?” Jeongin asked, eyeing him. “You look so pale. What’s wrong?”

Felix tried to speak. He scrambled for a convincing excuse, opening his mouth to give it, when Hyunjin, who was standing behind Jeongin, tilted his head just enough for Felix to see his mouth move.

“Pathetic.”

Felix’s chest seized instantly, and he forgot how to breathe.

“Hyung?” Jeongin asked, frowning now. “Are you- Do you need help?”

“I… I-”

Hyunjin stepped in smoothly. “He’s tired, In-ah. Let’s leave him alone.”

Jeongin glanced between them. “Huh? But he’s pale.”

“I’ll tell Minho-hyung later,” Hyunjin replied. “Come on.”

He guided Jeongin away. As they passed, close enough that Felix caught the faint bitterness of coffee on Hyunjin, Hyunjin leaned in slightly. So only Felix could hear.

“You’re even weaker than I thought.”

Felix stayed frozen in the hallway, watching them leave. Once inside his own room, Felix slid down against the wall, breath finally breaking free in shallow, ragged pulls, hands shaking in his lap.

The next day, he couldn’t even bring himself to eat.

He was lying on his bed, fully dressed, shoes still on, staring at the ceiling as if it might cave in if he blinked wrong. His stomach felt hollow and tight at the same time. Breakfast time had come and gone downstairs.

But the mere thought of food was nauseating. He just couldn’t.

He couldn’t get out of it so smoothly. Of course he couldn’t. Ten minutes passed, and someone was already calling him. Probably one of his members. Probably Minho or Chan.

Felix rolled onto his side and shoved his phone under the pillow.

It vibrated anyway.

Felix squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for it to quiet down. His chest felt compressed, like someone had wrapped tape around his ribs and kept pulling. He couldn’t go down there.

9:03…
9:11…
9:18…

And at 9:20 exactly, there was a knock on his door.

He already knew who it was.

Hyunjin. 

Why can’t he just let me be? Just why the fuck do you even bother?

He didn’t move at first, but he knew Hyunjin wouldn’t leave if he didn’t answer. He held his breath, counting the seconds between heartbeats. Then, slowly, as if his body didn’t belong to him anymore, he stepped closer and pressed his eye to the peephole.

Hyunjin stood there. Of course.

Of fucking course.

Felix could see the clear plastic container he held in his hand. Greens, neatly arranged. Chicken on the side. Dressing sealed in a tiny cup. A salad.

Felix’s throat closed. It looked disgusting. 

Hyunjin knocked on the door again, firmer this time.

Felix stayed silent. And when Hyunjin knocked again, he took a step back, not planning to unlock the door at all.

“You’re really not going to open the door?” Hyunjin asked, voice calm.

Felix pressed his forehead against the door, breath shallow and quiet, as if Hyunjin’s presence was physically hurting him. He couldn't bring himself to answer.

There was a pause before Hyunjin exhaled, seemingly tired. Felix watched through the peephole as Hyunjin bent down and set the container gently on the carpet, nudging it so it sat flush against the door.

He straightened and turned to leave.

“See you later, Felix.”

Felix’s head started pounding against his skull.

“Why are you doing this?” Felix blurted before Hyunjin could leave.

Hyunjin glanced back slowly, eyes lifting to the peephole as if he could see Felix staring through it.

“Doing what?”

“Whatever the fuck you’re doing these past few days, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin paused for a second.

“You mean caring for you?”

Felix laughed. Care my ass. “This is your version of care? Stalking me when I eat and humiliation when I don’t?”

Hyunjin had the audacity to smile. “Am I wrong?”

How I want to claw his eyes-

“Yes,” Felix snapped. “You- You think this is genuine care? Are you delusional?”

“You’re eating, aren’t you?”

“At what cost, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin shrugged as if he didn’t understand the issue at all. “The cost of it being your own choice.”

This manipulative piece of shit.

“My own choice?” Felix wanted to laugh hysterically but held himself back, unwilling to let his control slip. “My own fucking choice?”

“I’m not forcing you to eat.”

“You humiliate me if I don’t.”

“And you care about my opinion. That’s your problem, not mine.”

Felix wanted to dig his nails into Hyunjin’s face and tear his skin off. “You’re… You-”

“I am what?”

“An asshole, Hyunjin! You can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like-” Felix wanted to sob. “Just leave me the hell alone!”

Hyunjin didn’t pay his outburst much mind. He seemed to not take him seriously at all. “Are you that upset that I don’t want you to die because you, all of a sudden, decided starving is the best way to feel powerful?”

Oh, right. Because you know everything, don’t you?

“It’s not about…” Felix inhaled sharply. He unclenched his fists. “You don’t know shit.”

“Oh?” Hyunjin smiled, looking amused. Felix’s jaw clenched until he could hear the grind of his teeth. “Educate me, then.”

“I’m mentally sick, Hyunjin! I’m mentally fucking ill!”

“I've noticed, yeah.” 

Felix’s chest heaved.

“And you don’t give a shit, I’m guessing?”

“Why would I pity you for something you inflicted on yourself?” Hyunjin asked, looking genuinely curious.

Manipulative, heartless asshole. How I want to just-

Felix didn’t answer, trying to regain control over his breathing. He saw Hyunjin sigh before he turned to leave. But not without having the final word.

“If you were actually in control,” he said, “why would eating terrify you this much, Felix?”

Silence seemed to swallow the hallway whole as Hyunjin left.

Felix slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor, knees pulled tight to his chest. The container sat inches from his face on the other side of the wood, invisible, but he was all too aware that it was there.

His ears rang.

Weak. Pathetic.

The lock on the door stayed in place.

And the salad stayed right where Hyunjin had left it.

═══════

He wanted to make Hyunjin’s life hell.

That motherfucker long since deserved it, and there wasn’t even a debate about that. The problem was, Felix didn’t know how to do it. Not really.

He knew Hyunjin wanted him. Craved him, even, given how close he allowed Felix to come. But Felix couldn’t just use the same trick over and over. Hyunjin wasn’t that easy to fool. Hell, just some time ago, when Felix kissed him, hoping it would feel like he finally won, Hyunjin just smiled and said, “Try harder next time, angel.”

So no, Hyunjin wasn’t easy. Felix knew that. Everyone did. He also knew what worked on the others. Chan was a perfectionist, Minho was overprotective, Han had severe anxiety. Those were weaknesses that could be used against them anytime, although Felix had never exploited them himself. But how was he supposed to use Hyunjin’s own lust against him when the bastard knew exactly what Felix was trying to do?

So he did the only thing he could think of: he tried to get on Hyunjin’s nerves.

They were in the lounge again. As usual, Hyunjin sat across from him, waiting for him to finish his meal. He wasn’t looking at Felix; he was absorbed in a magazine he’d picked up on the street yesterday, his long fingers occasionally turning a page, the sound breaking the heavy silence between them.

Felix felt the familiar, hot prickle of resentment. He was eating, of course he was, but the lack of acknowledgement felt like its own kind of mockery.

His eyes tracked the table and landed on a small, open bottle of soy sauce sitting just inches from Hyunjin’s thigh.

Felix couldn’t help but smile.

With a calculated, sluggish motion, he reached for his water glass, intentionally “stumbling” his hand. The bottle tipped instantly, a dark, salty pool spreading across the light denim of Hyunjin’s jeans and soaking into the edges of his book.

Hyunjin froze. For a second, the only movement was the soy sauce dripping onto the carpet.

Drip, drip, drip.

Felix didn’t let go of the bottle until nearly nothing remained. Slowly, Hyunjin looked up. His jaw was locked so tight a muscle jumped in his cheek. His eyes were cold, narrowed. What the fuck are you doing?

Felix didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back, tilting his head with a wide, artificial smile. “Ah, sorry. My bad.”

Hyunjin didn't explode like he suspected he would. He didn't even raise his voice. He set the damp book on the table with a dull thud and reached for a stack of napkins. He wiped the liquid from his lap.

“Finish your meal,” he said, not even sparing him a glance.

Felix’s smile faltered, his lip curling in dissatisfaction. He went back to his noodles soon enough, his nostrils flaring in anger.

Hyunjin wasn’t an easy person, really.

But it wasn’t like he could give up.

He knew Hyunjin’s temperament. He knew he was just a second away from blowing a fuse. He just held back because he didn’t want to give Felix a win.

Piece of shit.

A day passed. Most of the members were scattered across the leather couches backstage, drained from the first half of the show. Felix sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed on Hyunjin, who was tossing something into the trash can.

“Hyunjin,” Felix called out, his voice loud enough to cut through Han and Changbin’s bickering. “Can you give me the controller?”

Hyunjin didn’t turn. “It’s next to you, Felix. On the cushion.”

“Ah… you know…” Felix let out a soft, theatrical groan, rubbing the small of his back. “My back is hurting. Help me out, please? You’re the closest to it.”

Hyunjin raised his head. His reflection was visible in the wall mirror right in front of him. Felix saw him assess the situation with a look that said, What are you trying to do? Felix just smiled in response. And, after a moment, Hyunjin grabbed the controller and tossed it. It landed squarely in Felix’s lap. But as Hyunjin moved to sit on the far end of the sofa, Felix spoke again.

“Actually… Can you bring me soda? I want-”

Hyunjin took his seat. “No.”

“But Hyunjin,” Felix pouted, making his voice go high and fragile. He saw how Hyunjin's eye twitched. “my back really hurts. I can’t even stand up.”

Hyunjin didn’t respond. Seungmin sighed and stood up. “Which soda do you want, Lix?”

Felix didn’t look at Seungmin. “I want Hyunjin to bring me soda.”

“He doesn’t want anything,” Hyunjin told Seungmin. “You can sit down.”

“But I do, my back hurts-”

“It does? Lix, I can give you a massage if you want,” Chan chimed in, looking genuinely worried.

Hyunjin’s lip twitched in a sneer. He murmured something under his breath, something that sounded like “Unbelievable”, and put his headphones on, no longer paying attention to any of them.

Felix watched him as Chan started messaging his shoulder blades, the small victory of driving Hyunjin making him feel giddy inside.

And it only motivated him more.

He wanted something biggger. Louder. Something that even Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to deny.

He wanted to see Hyunjin go ballistic, really.

And he was close to it. During the encore, the fans were screaming, and the crowd was overflowing, which made him feel invincible. Like he could do all he wanted now, and he would succeed.  Like there was no other way possible.

He saw Hyunjin near the center stage, listening to Chan’s speech to the crowd.

If I’m pathetic, I’ll be the most pathetic thing you’ve ever seen, Felix thought, his mind buzzing with spite.

As the music started, Felix stumbled. It was a practiced, graceful ‘collapse' right into Hyunjin’s path. He reached out, grabbing Hyunjin’s arm and leaning his full weight into him, forcing the the dancer to catch him or let him hit the floor in front of thousands of people.

“Hyunjin-ah,” Felix gasped into his ear, loud enough for the nearby stage mics to catch the breathiness but not the words. “I feel weak. I can’t walk. Carry me.”

Hyunjin’s body went rigid. And before he could even react, the fans erupted into shrieks and screams at the sight of them. Which wasn’t a surprise. Even during the time where they weren’t that close, Felix and Hyunjin and their relationship was one of the fans’ favorite topic to discuss. It made Felix feel giddy inside then, because they validated his crush, but now, all he felt was triumph and gratitude.

Because Hyunjin had no choice. It wasn’t like he could deny him in front of everyone else.

His hands came around Felix’s waist, his fingers digging in with enough pressure to leave bruises. He hoisted Felix up, shifting him into a bridal carry.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Hyunjin smiled at him through gritted teeth. The crowd howled so loud Felix could feel it vibrating through his chest.

Felix wrapped his arms around Hyunjin’s neck, leaning his head against his shoulder.

“You said I was weak,” Felix whispered back with a grin. “So take care of me, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin laughed, and Felix didn’t have much time to enjoy Hyunjin’s warmth before he was dumped into someone else’s arms. He recognized Chan by the smell alone.

“Chan-hyung is way stronger than me,” Hyunjin spoke into the microphone amid the screams. “He can take care of our Yongbokkie better. Aren’t you able to, hyung?”

Chan adjusted his hold around Felix and hoisted him up to a better position, and Felix felt all the triumph vanish away.

Motherfucker.

“Sure, sure.” Chan laughed. He spun Felix around like a princess, giggling in the process.

The crowd erupted again.

It continued like that. Hyunjin still accompanied him every time he had a meal, and Felix still wanted to tear him limb from limb. But he never stopped eating. And all his attempts to annoy Hyunjin ended with a neutral reaction. Some genuinely got to him. Some even amused him. Like the time Felix mimicked his every move, his face dropping into the same indifferent mask Hyunjin always wore. Hyunjin just smiled, brought himself a high-calorie meal, and started eating it in front of him, looking at Felix like he was challenging him to do the same. Felix, staring at the spaghetti, curled his lip in disgust and muttered, “Oh, fuck you,” before dropping the act altogether.

Hyunjin’s laugh followed him for days after.

Some attempts annoyed Hyunjin, regardless. But the problem was, Hyunjin never allowed himself to completely lose his cool. Felix suspected that it was because he made it to obvious he was trying to get a reaction out of him. But he didn’t know how to be discreet. He had no idea how to actually have Hyunjin break down in front of him.

but Felix never allowed himself to give up, either.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

Felix shook his head, his gaze stubbornly fixed on his meal.

He heard the familiar metallic clink of a lighter before the scent of smoke washed over the room, thick and heavy.

Hyunjin was draped over the armchair by the window, a magazine he’d plucked from Felix’s desktop spread across his lap. He’d come in uninvited at 8:00 AM sharp, bringing a tray of breakfast without a single word. It was some kind of routine now, one that had repeated nearly every day for the past week. Sometimes Hyunjin brought coffee, sometimes a sketchbook, sometimes nothing at all.

But one thing didn’t change. If Felix skipped a meal, Hyunjin would be there, in his room, and Felix would be eating what Hyunjin brought. And Hyunjin would wait for him to finish it all before leaving.

It was pancakes today.

Felix stabbed his fork into them with way more pressure than necessary. He looked up at Hyunjin, who sat in his own world, waiting.

“Are you tired?” Felix asked, eyeing the dark smudges beneath Hyunjin’s eyes as the dancer read the magazine. He watched a lazy wave of gray smoke curl toward the ceiling.

Hyunjin flicked an ash into a small plate he’d placed there for himself yesterday. “No.”

“You look tired.”

“Our schedules haven’t been easy on anyone.”

“You can ask for a break. We don’t have much going on this week.”

Hyunjin chuckled before puffing out smoke. “If you care so much about my energy levels, finish your meal.”

Felix didn’t reply, and the room quieted again.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, per se. Hyunjin usually didn’t bother to converse, and Felix rarely initiated. Still, it was unusual for Felix to spend time with someone in a complete lack of conversation. Though “spending time” was an exaggeration. He’d never invited Hyunjin into his room to begin with.

Felix spoke before he realized he did. “Hyunjin.”

“What?”

“Why… don’t you have any modeling gigs this month? Just so… you know, you can rest for a bit?” Felix asked clumsily, taking a bite of his food, not sure what to say.

“Are you hoping I’ll leave?”

Felix nodded, smiling. “Yes, actually.”

Hyunjin lips thinned in a line. “Unfortunately for you, my schedule is clear.”

Felix looked back down at his plate. The protein pancakes were cold now, tasting like dry ash. He placed his fork down with a sharp clack against the ceramic.

Hyunjin looked at him. “Did you finish?”

“No.”

The dancer's brow furrowed, a flicker of genuine irritation crossing his face. “We have to go in five minutes, Felix. The vans are downstairs.”

“I’m aware.” Felix smiled. And what are you going to do about it?

Hyunjin didn’t argue or blow a fuse. At this point, Felix wasn’t even expecting him to. Instead, he sighed and unlocked his phone. Before Felix could object, Hyunjin pointed the camera and snapped a picture of him sitting in front of his half-full plate.

“What are you doing?” Felix’s smile vanished instantly.

Hyunjin started typing. “I’m sending this to Iseul-noona.”

No. No. No.

Felix jumped up, lunging across the small table to reach for the phone. “No! Give me the phone! Delete it!”

Hyunjin moved the phone out of reach. He looked at Felix as if his begging was the funniest thing he’d seen in a while.

Piece of shit.

“Have you sent it already? Give-”

“I haven’t done anything yet,” Hyunjin replied calmly. “Finish your meal and I’ll delete the picture.”

Felix stood there for a second, chest heaving, staring at the phone. His lips were a thin line, holding back everything he wanted to say. Fuck you. I wish I never met you. Piece of-

He huffed and went back to his seat, moving like a marionette with cut strings. He sat down, the chair scraping loudly, and picked up his fork.

He finished the meal with red-hot resentment spreading through his veins, the pancakes feeling like lead in his stomach. He chewed and swallowed, his eyes locked on Hyunjin the entire time, who looked utterly unbothered as he scrolled through his phone and smoked his cigarette. 

When the plate was finally, undeniably empty, Felix slammed the fork down.

“There,” Felix spat. “Are you happy now?”

Hyunjin looked up, checked the plate, and calmly deleted the photo right in front of Felix’s face. He slipped the phone into his pocket, puffed out the last bit of smoke and stubbed the stick into the plate, leaving a gray, ugly smear on the surface. He stood to leave.

But Felix spoke again, the question that had been bothering him heavy on his tongue. “How do you know when I skip meals?”

Hyunjin walked to the door. “I know by looking at your face and how you behave.”

Felix’s eyebrows knitted. How did he… “Did you read about eating disorders?”

“Yes.”

For me? Felix wanted to ask, but a bigger question surfaced. “… but you hadn’t seen me today before you came here.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “Chan-hyung called me.”

Chan?

Chan called him? But… “Why?” Felix asked, his tone weary.

Hyunjin just looked at him, clearly annoyed. “Because he cares about you, Felix. Why else?”

But Felix couldn’t wrap his head around it. Had Chan been working behind his back? Or was this the first time? He remembered instances when Hyunjin had come into his room without seeing him once all day, so it was obvious this wasn’t the first time at all.

Or was Hyunjin stalking him?

“Did Chan…” Felix gulped, meeting Hyunjin’s gaze head-on. “Is this the first time…?”

“No.”

“So he calls you when I don’t eat?”

“Not only him.”

“Who else?”

“Bin and Seungmin do, too.”

What?

So the majority of the band had been working behind his back? And he hadn’t even known?

Felix’s expression dropped. Betrayal ran through him so profoundly he felt the sudden need to lash out.

Who gave them the right?

“And why do you listen to them, Hyunjin? Are you their lap dog?”

Hyunjin didn’t flinch at the insult. He just looked at him, smiling, as if his reactions were pure entertainment. “Oh?”

Hyunjin’s unbothered response grated on his nerves. His anger flared.

“Why do you even bother with this anyway?” Felix’s voice rose. “You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself.”

“I said it before. I’m your bandmate.”

Felix wanted to laugh. “A bandmate?” He leaned back, his grin jagged and mocking. “You seem more like their trash can to me.”

Hyunjin looked at him, tilting his head. It seemed like Felix’s comment had finally grabbed his full attention.

Felix’s grin widened.

He continued, his voice dripping with mockery. “They don’t want to deal with my shit, so they dump it on you. And look at you.” He pointed a finger at him. “You’re the one who has to watch me chew, and be here every time I dare to skip a meal. Does it make you feel powerful, huh? Because to me, it just makes you look like you’re doing their dirty work. Like a slave.”

Hyunjin let out a short, dry exhale. His expression shifted from amusement to something colder, sharper… Annoyance.

Felix felt a giddy rush of victory. Finally, you piece of-

“At least I’m not a slave to the scale.”

“Oh, fuck y-”

The door clicked shut, leaving Felix in complete silence once again.

═══════

“Chin up, Felix! Big smile, yeah, just like that!”

Felix pulled his lips back. It felt less like a smile and more like baring his teeth.

In his peripheral vision, he could see the others. Minho was laughing at something the stylist said, and beside him, Jeongin was filming the set on his phone. Seungmin stood monitoring the screen with Chan.

The mere sight of them set his nerves aflame.

How could you…

“Look at the camera, Felix!” The photographer’s voice snapped him out of his rage. “Just like that! Do the heart sign… Okay, good! Next!”

Felix stepped out of the shooting scene the second he had the chance. He turned to grab his water bottle, trying to regain control of his emotions, but a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Hey, Lix," Changbin’s voice was warm, as if he hadn’t gone behind Felix's back at all. "Jisungie and I were planning to go for In-N-Out later. Do you want to-“

Felix jerked his shoulder away.

"I’m not in the mood today, hyung," Felix said, not even looking at him. He stared straight ahead at the white backdrop instead.

Silence fell between them, thick and deafening.

"Oh. Okay," Changbin hesitated, clearly surprised. "Maybe later then? We could eat the leftovers in my room-"

"No, hyung. Sorry." Felix finally turned. He directed a glare at Changbin that made the older rapper take a step back. "I’m busy."

He took a lone seat far from the others, ignoring the concerned and confused glances sent his way. The rage still simmered inside him, spreading through every nook and cranny of his body.

This is what they deserve.

The shoot was done soon, and by the time Felix reached his hotel room that night, he felt hollowed out. The fury had burned through his energy reserves, leaving him shaky with exhaustion. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to turn off his brain so he wouldn't have to think about Hyunjin’s smug face, Minho’s pitying eyes, or the fact that his friends - his family - had been tracking him like a specimen in a lab.

He had just pulled his shirt over his head when a knock sounded at the door.

Felix froze. He wasn’t expecting anyone today at all.

Was it Hyunjin?

But Hyunjin’s knocks were never this polite.

He walked to the door and checked the peephole.

Chan.

Felix’s jaw tightened until his teeth ached. He didn't want to open it. He wanted to scream at Chan to go away. That he didn't want to see him. But the lock clicked under his fingers almost automatically, like a reflex of obedience he hated, and he opened the door. Just a tiny bit.

"I’m busy right now," Felix said, his voice flat. He moved to shut the door, but Chan stopped him.

"Lix, wait." Chan’s hand shot out, palm flattening against the wood. "Please. I just want to talk."

"I don't want to talk."

"Felix." Chan pushed gently, stepping into the space. Felix felt himself sneer. "Just five minutes, please."

He didn’t want to see Chan’s face. Not now. And especially not with that loving, paternal smile on his mouth.

Oh, God.

But Chan wouldn’t leave without an explanation. Not after how Felix had acted today. Because he was the leader, first and for all.

He let go of the door and turned his back, walking into the room without a word. Chan stepped inside, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

The silence in the room was thick, suffocating. Felix stood by the bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest, refusing to look at him.

"I noticed you've been off today, Lix," Chan started, his voice soft, as if approaching a wild animal. "Binnie told me… are you angry? What’s wrong?"

"Nothing, hyung."

"Come on," Chan sighed, walking closer. "I don't remember you being this angry. Ever, Yongbokkie. You practically bit Changbin’s head off. Did he do something to upset you? Did we do something?"

The nickname, Yongbokkie, was like a spark that lit the fuse. It sounded so affectionate. So… fraudulent.

Like you care.

Felix turned around. He didn’t want to hold it in anymore. "Hyunjin told me something about you," he said, his voice deadpan. "About you... and the rest of the group."

Chan stopped. His expression froze, looking wary more than anything. "Oh...? What did he tell you?"

"You told him to look after me," Felix said. "When I skip something. When I don't eat. You call him. And you send him to my room."

Chan’s face paled. For a split second, guilt flashed across his features before he composed himself.

"Felix-"

"No, hyung." Felix took a step forward, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "Please, just tell me the truth. Is he lying or not? I… I don’t want to believe him."

Chan looked down at the carpet, then back up. His eyes were sad. "He's not lying to you, Lix."

The confirmation hit Felix harder than the suspicion had. It felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.

"Then why?" Felix’s voice cracked. "Why do you feel like you have the right to make decisions for me? I’m an adult! If I wanted his help, I would have asked for it myself!"

"Felix, calm down-"

"I won't, hyung!" Felix shouted. The volume startled even him. Chan flinched. "He told me it's Seungmin and Changbin, too. Is Minho in on it? Jeongin? I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s all of you. Have I been such a liability? Am I that much of a burden that you had to pawn me off to him?"

"You need help, Felix," Chan said, trying to sound calm. He stepped closer, his hands raised in a placating gesture.

"I don't need anyone's fucking help!" Felix nearly screamed, stepping back. "I never asked for it! I never asked you to watch me, I never asked you to report on me!"

"It doesn't matter if you asked for it! You need it!" Chan’s voice rose, just slightly, silencing Felix for a second. The leader took that silence as an opportunity. “Look, I get it-“

“You don’t! You never-“

“I get it, Felix. I know it was not the best choice,” Chan cut him off. “But it’s the only choice I have-“

“It was never your choice to begin with! It should have been mine!”

“So you want me to just watch you die?” Chan’s voice thundered through the small hotel room, loud and commanding.

Felix froze.

Chan never yelled. Not at him.

Silence stretched between them, vibrating with tension. Chan inhaled loudly, his face flushed with anger, or perhaps fear. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

"Look, I understand," Chan said, his voice dropping lower. "You don't want him looming over you. He doesn't want to loom over you either, trust me. But it's the only option left. The only option you have left for us, Felix."

Chan took a step forward, his eyes pleading. "I would have asked a professional. I tried to get you to see doctors. But you don't even listen to them-“

“I do listen to them, hyung-“

That made Chan visibly angry.

“No, you don’t. You lie to them, and you lie to me!” Chan looked at him, his eyes narrowed, furious, and Felix couldn’t help but flinch.

He had never seen Chan like this. Maybe with staff sometimes, and maybe with some fans... but not with them.

He didn't look like the person Felix knew.

Felix wanted to cry.

"So you think making decisions for me is the right choice?" Felix hissed, tears stinging his eyes. "You think he’s just going to what, fix me?"

“He’s trying to help you.”

“I don’t need his fucking help!” Felix sobbed.

“You do! You do, Felix!” Chan raised his voice again. A fresh wave of tears streamed down Felix’s face.

They fell into a heavy quiet. Chan’s angry expression softened into concern. He tried to speak more gently, though the frustration still lingered in his voice.

"How can you not see that?" Chan’s voice broke. "I'm fucking scared, Felix. Everyone is. You could lose your life, and we wouldn't be able to do anything… Imagine if it was me! Imagine if I were suffering like you. Wouldn't you want me to get better? Wouldn't you want to help me, even if I hated you for it?"

"I would have asked you first!" Felix cried.

"We have been asking you for years!" Chan cut him off, desperate. "We waited for you to try to heal. We gave you space, we gave you everything you wanted-“

“I don’t-“

“Let me finish, Felix,” Chan hissed. Felix’s mouth closed instantly. “Look at yourself. You haven't healed. You’ve just gotten worse. You can’t imagine how it’s like to see you like this. Asking Hyunjin to help you is the only option left. Why can’t you understand that?"

Felix wanted to laugh hysterically.

Why couldn’t he understand? The irony in that question alone was comedic.

Did Chan even listen to himself?

"It's not your decision to make," Felix whispered, the fight draining out of him, replaced by a profound, aching tiredness. Out of a sudden, all he wanted was to be alone, far, far away from anyone who even knew him. "It should be no one’s but mine. It’s my body-"

"No," Chan said firmly. "If your life is on the line, it's everyone's. I’m sorry."

The tears spilled over, hot and humiliating. Felix looked at Chan, his leader, someone he considered a brother, but all he saw was a stranger. Someone who thought this was all okay. That controlling him through someone else meant love in some sick, twisted way.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

Chan’s expression crumpled. He took a step forward, arms opening. "Why are you crying, baby? Hey… I'm sorry. I truly am-"

"No." Felix recoiled, backing away until his legs hit the edge of the bed. "Get away from me."

"But Felix-"

"Get out!" Felix screamed, pointing a violently shaking hand at the door. "Get out of my room!"

Chan froze. He looked at Felix’s, and whatever he saw was enough to put that devastated look on his face. He sighed, defeated, and dropped his arms.

He walked to the door slowly. His hand lingered on the handle before he turned back one last time.

"I'm truly sorry, Lix," he whispered.

"You aren't, hyung," Felix sobbed, wrapping his arms around himself.

"I'm not sorry for helping you," Chan said softly. "But I am sorry for upsetting you this much. You have to understand, I care-"

"Please," Felix cut him off. "Just leave me alone."

Chan hesitated, then nodded. The door opened, hallway light spilling in for a brief second before the latch clicked shut.

"If you need anything, just call me."

Felix had never felt more betrayed.

Am I just a problem to be managed? All this time…

He let out a sob.

═══════

“If your life is on the line, it's everyone’s.”

"It’s everyone’s."

Everyone has the right to decide. Not you.

Not even your body belongs to you now. It never did. And it probably never will.

Because it’s theirs.

It was never up to you.

Felix wasn’t a violent person. He wasn’t even malicious by nature. He prided himself on his kindness and empathy. They were his best traits, the ones that saved him from most conflicts. How could he be mad at people when he understood why they did what they did? When he knew they didn’t mean any harm?

But God, he wanted to scrape Chan’s skin off his face.

He tried to tell himself he understood. There wasn’t much to understand, really. Most of what Chan had said was justified. Felix knew he’d been petty and immature, arguing like that.

But…

“If your life is on the line, it's everyone’s.”

He looked at his pale reflection in the mirror, at his bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“It doesn't matter if you asked for it, Felix. You need his help!”

Need him. You need him.

You fucking need him.

He turned the faucet off, drying his hands on the washcloth. He couldn’t bear to look at his reflection anymore. And he didn’t want to look at anyone today, either.

God, he was so tired.

He imagined what it would have been like if he’d never auditioned as an idol. He’d probably be in Australia now, relaxing with some 9-to-5 job that didn’t demand his whole life. He’d be surrounded by family.

He’d probably be happier.

No Chan to tell him what to do. No Minho looming over him, spoon-feeding him like a child. No Changbin trying to guilt-trip him into eating.

And most importantly, no son of a bitch who made the hackles rise on the back of his neck every time he saw him.

No Hyunjin.

As Felix got ready for the upcoming interview, pulling loose jeans over his legs, he saw something drip on the floor. He looked up at the ceiling, but there was nothing. When he looked down, he saw another drop.

He rubbed his eyes and felt the wetness on his palms.

He was crying. Of course he was.

He heard the familiar velvety voice in his ear. Pathetic.

He rubbed his eyes until they stung from dryness, pulled his clothes on in record speed, and left the room as if someone were chasing him. Once he met the others, he didn’t bother with false pleasantries. He tried to keep to himself, sitting alone in his corner of the car and never once engaging, despite Minho’s “Are you okay, Bokkie? You look pale. Do you want to get some food?” and Seungmin’s constant check-ins.

He just wanted to be alone. Far, far away from anyone. Especially from Chan.

He got his wish, in a way. Nobody bothered him much. Chan wasn't in his car, neither was Hyunjin. Maybe luck was on his side that day. They were in the second car that followed. Felix could finally breathe.

That hope died the moment he stepped into the bright, bustling greenroom of the studio. Chan was already there, leaning over a monitor with a producer, pointing at something. As if sensing his arrival, Chan’s head snapped up. Their eyes met across the room.

Chan excused himself immediately and started weaving through the crowd toward him.

Felix took a step back.

“Bokkie, baby, are you okay? I-”

Felix shook his head.

“No, no,” he murmured, taking another back.

Chan stopped, a genuine look of hurt on his face. “But I-”

“Please, hyung.”

“I’m just trying to say sorry, Lix. I’m truly-”

Yeah. Right. Sorry. As if.

Chan wasn’t sorry for the decision, only for how Felix reacted to it. Felix knew that. The leader would do the same thing a thousand times over if given the chance.

Felix didn’t hear the rest. He turned and shoved his way past a startled makeup artist, bursting out of the greenroom and into the cooler, quieter hallway. He took a random turn, then another, his vision blurring, until he saw the stick-figure sign on a door.

He slammed into the bathroom, fumbling with the lock until it clicked shut. He braced his hands on the sink, head hanging, breath sawing in and out of his lungs.

He forced himself to look up.

He looked like a stranger. His hair was mussed, eyes wide and wild, cheeks flushed with panic and rage.

So much for being an idol.

He inhaled loudly, willing himself to get a grip and not break down crying in the middle of a schedule.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He spent the next minute trying to hold back tears, and as he looked at his heaving chest in the mirror, an idea struck him like a bucket of cold water.

Fuck them.

They wanted control? They could have it. But his actions were his. His body was his alone. He could do whatever he wanted with it. It was his.

Why was he even listening to them anyway?

It was a frighteningly easy idea. In the heat of panic and rage, he forgot all his responsibilities. The breakfast he had forced down earlier sat heavy in his stomach, churning until he felt dizzy with the need to get rid of it.

Felix moved without conscious thought. He didn’t hesitate. He closed the stall door, lowered himself down, stuck his fingers in his mouth, and gagged.

The first gag felt like a shock rippling through him. His eyes watered instantly. The second was harder. He pushed, his stomach clenching painfully, until the first wave came up, bitter, acidic...

Felix could barely breathe until he got rid of every single thing remaining. He couldn’t even stop if he wanted to. He gagged and gagged until all he was vomiting was just pure bile.

When it was over, he sat back on his heels, gasping. His throat felt raw. A single, hot tear tracked through his foundation. He waited to feel something, maybe even victory.

But for two whole minutes, he felt nothing at all. Then the panic hit.

God, what have I done?

He had an interview. Not just an interview… he had to meet his managers soon. How could he- He had to get out of the bathroom, meet his members. And his voice was probably-

Oh, shit. Hyunjin.

He stood up instantly, his heart beating frantically against his ribs.

In a blink, he was at the sink, turning the tap on so hard the water splashed over the marble counter and soaked his shirt. He didn’t care. He shoved dry paper towels under the stream and scrubbed his mouth raw, not caring that it smudged his lip gloss off.

When he finally pulled back to look in the mirror, he let out a strangled breath.

He looked like a mess. The skin around his mouth was flushed and blotchy red from the friction, but it was his eyes that betrayed him. The delicate skin underneath was already beginning to puff. Just a tiny bit, but…

Hyunjin will know.

Hyunjin will fucking know.

“Felix-ssi? Are you in there?”

The staff’s voice cut through the silence like a gunshot. Felix nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Yeah! Yeah!” he shouted back, his heart hammering. He took a sharp breath, forcing his voice to relax. “I’ll come out in a second! Just… I’m fixing my makeup!”

“Okay. The stylists want to add-”

“It’s no problem! I’ll be… Just give me a second, alright?”

There was a pause, then he heard quiet footsteps. “Okay, Felix-ssi.”

Felix grabbed a hand towel, pressing it against his eyes with enough force to see stars. Go down. Please, just go down. He counted to ten, his pulse thundering in his ears, before pulling the towel away.

It didn’t work at all. And now his eyes were a bit red, too.

Tears sprang to his eyes again, hot and furious. He didn’t even know who he was angry at. Maybe at them, at himself, at the sheer, inescapable trap of it all. He tossed the used paper towels in the trash and looked in the mirror again.

It was worse. The face staring back was paler now, the eyes more red-rimmed.

He looked ill. He looked guilty.

Forcing his shoulders back, he walked to the door and forced himself out of the bathroom. He had to leave. But-

“Felix-ssi, over here please!” His stylist called, waving him over for a final touch-up. Felix swallowed, and went to her like a docile lamb. She looked at his face with a furrowed brow, noticing the change.

“Why did you remove your gloss?”

“Ah… I…” Felix tried to explain. “I had a drink and it came off. I’m sorry, noona.”

She didn’t seem angry, just sighed and grabbed the lip gloss and applied on his lips. “It’s okay. I think we need a little more concealer, too. Be careful next time, Felix-ah.”

As she started applying the product, his gaze swept the room.

Changbin and Seungmin were talking to each other. Minho was on his phone. Chan was by the door, talking intensely with a manager, his back turned. He couldn’t see Jeongin anywhere. Fortunately, none of them were looking at him. None of them suspected a thing.

His eyes, inevitably, drifted to the far corner.

Hyunjin was there, ready, sitting alone on a couch. The stylists had undoubtedly put the most work into him. Felix could see how they’d darkened his eyes, how his hair was done beautifully, touched up with some highlights.

He wasn’t looking at Felix, thankfully. He was on his phone, relaxed, waiting for the interview to start.

“Can you look up for a second, Lix?” The stylist’s voice put him back on full alert. He did as he was told, and she dabbed powder under his lids. “Okay, you’re ready to go. Good luck!” She smiled at him.

Felix thanked her and apologized again before leaving the seat. He immediately went to a corner where he wouldn’t be seen, but it was just his luck that once he looked over his bandmates again, Hyunjin’s head lifted.

Felix froze.

He wished he had faster reflexes. He wished he didn’t just freeze under stress. But every time Hyunjin assessed him, his body refused to listen. It was the same shit over and over again. He watched as Hyunjin’s eyes tracked slowly from his carefully rearranged hair, down to his eyes, the tense line of his mouth, the almost imperceptible tremble in his fingers by his sides.

Fuck, he knows. it’s- He fucking knows!

Felix took a step back.

“Felix?” Hyunjin asked, his voice loud enough to reach him.

He sounded suspicious already.

I should get away. Where- No, no-

If it wasn’t obvious that he had done something wrong before, it was clear as a bell now. Anyone would have guessed by Felix’s reaction alone.

His wide eyes tracked Hyunjin’s movements as he locked his phone, put it on a nearby table, and rose from the chair. “Felix.”

Hyunjin’s voice sounded sure now, accusing, as if he already knew.

Felix tried to explain, waving his trembling hand. “Ah, I-”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed further, and Felix could see the exact moment the vein in his forehead pulsed beneath his pale skin.

Hyunjin was angry.

He’s angry. Oh my God. He will- He will tell-

Hyunjin took another step forward, getting closer, but Felix turned on his heel and ran.

“Yongbok? What’s wrong?” Minho’s confused voice called from further back, but he didn’t pay it any mind.

Felix’s feet pounded against the polished studio floor, the sound echoing in the too-bright hallway. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he had to get away. As far as he could.

No, no, no-

Behind him, he could hear footsteps.

Felix picked up his pace.

He skidded around a corner, his eyes landing on a bathroom. He didn’t even notice whether it was intended for girls or boys. He wrenched the door open, slammed it shut behind him, and fumbled with the lock until he heard it click into place.

He slumped against the door, sliding down until he sat on the cold tile, knees drawn to his chest. His breath came in ragged, wet sobs that he tried to stifle with his hands.

What was I thinking? He knows… Couldn’t I have done it when he wasn’t around? Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Now Hyunjin would tell Chan, and in the worst case – Iseul. They would have that disappointed look on their faces as they surveyed him. Minho would look at him with pity. Jeongin would be confused. They would be all over him…

He sobbed into his knees.

He didn’t even have a minute of peace. A shadow fell across the thin gap under the door. Felix knew it was Hyunjin. Any other member would have already driven themselves sick with worry, would have asked if he was okay, would have tried to force the door open to check on him.

But Hyunjin never would.

Silence fell between them, and as much as Felix tried to stifle his sobs, he couldn’t. He sniffed, running his hands through his hair, his head lowered in shame.

Stupid, stupid, stupid-

“Are you crying?”

Hyunjin’s voice was soft with disbelief. As if he couldn’t believe Felix had the audacity to ruin everything and cry on top of it. As if he didn’t do this all to himself.

Felix flinched, scrubbing his face violently. “N-no.”

Hyunjin didn’t say anything else. Felix heard the sound of the door handle being pushed. The door didn’t open, and Felix heard Hyunjin let out a displeased sound.

“Open the door, Felix.”

“Why the fuck would I?” Felix’s voice was thick with tears. “So you’ll shout at me?”

“I won’t shout at you.”

“You will, you’ll tell-”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Do you think I report everything to Chan?”

“You do everything he asks you to do!”

“For you to not fucking die, Felix!” Hyunjin hissed. Felix let out an even louder sob, the sound so pathetic he hid himself deeper in shame.

Hyunjin was silent for a moment, no doubt trying to calm himself down. When he spoke again, his voice was so soft it was a wonder it came from the same person.

“Open the door. I’m not angry. I just want to check if you’re okay.”

Felix hugged his knees tighter, fresh tears streaming silently down his face. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

“We have an interview in five minutes. You’ll see me regardless.”

Felix inhaled sharply, remembering his responsibilities.

Shit, what’s happening there? Are the managers looking for him? What are they thinking?

His cheeks colored with shame.

Idiot. You absolute idiot.

He curled into himself, the bathroom’s cold tiles grazing uncomfortably against his jeans. He didn’t want to answer, so he sat there, hunched, hoping Hyunjin would eventually go away.

But of course he didn’t.

“Minho and Chan-hyung are already looking for you. If you don’t let me in, they will find you,” Hyunjin said, his voice quiet, gentle, as if coaxing a child.

Felix shut his eyes tightly, not giving him an answer.

He couldn’t face those two now. Not them. Not ever again.

Compared to them, Hyunjin was a dream. Felix just hoped…

He hesitated, a childish, desperate anticipation flickering. “Do you promise?”

“Promise what?”

That you’re not angry at me? The words were too humiliating to say aloud. He stayed silent.

He heard Hyunjin sigh, tired. “Like I said, I’m not angry at you. I’ll check and leave you alone, okay?”

Felix stood on his numb legs, and with a trembling hand, he reached up and turned the lock. The click was softer this time.

The door pushed inward gently, and Hyunjin slipped inside, immediately turning to relock it.

For a moment, there was only the hum of the ventilation and Felix’s shaky breathing. Hyunjin didn’t touch him. He simply turned and leaned back against the door, crossing his arms. He looked Felix over, just as he’d said he would.

It was a slow, thorough scan, and Hyunjin, thankfully, didn’t show any emotion on his face as he checked his state. There was no disappointment or pity. It wasn't like Felix expected Hyunjin to pity him anyway, but it felt relieving. Without even meaning to, the tension in Felix's shoulders eased just a bit.

And finally, after a second of looking him over, Hyunjin nodded, as if he expected this.

“I’ll tell noona that you won’t be able to do the interview,” he said, meeting Felix’s eyes.

“I can! Why-”

“You look grim. It’s better to skip the interview than have the fans speculate why,” he added, his voice calm. All Felix could do was stare, his heart in his mouth. Hyunjin sighed again. “Rinse your mouth, Felix.”

He suddenly remembered the horrible aftertaste of vomit on his tongue. Before he could answer, someone pushed the door handle and then knocked.

“Felix, Hyunjin. Are you guys there?” Chan asked, his voice concerned.

Oh, shit.

Felix flinched, his shoulders hunching up in defense. Hyunjin spoke for him. “Yes, hyung.”

“Is Felix okay? What happened?”

“He ate something that upset his stomach. He’s a little dizzy right now,” Hyunjin replied, voice calm. He didn't even take a second to deceive. Like he was experienced in this. Which he probably was. “Forcing him through the interview might make it worse. He needs to sit quietly for a bit, maybe with some water and a cool cloth. The last thing we need is him fainting on camera.”

The lie was so smooth there was no room for suspicion. Felix looked at Hyunjin, his eyes wide.

There was a pause. Then Chan said, “Oh… Yeah, that’s… I’ll tell Iseul, no problem. Do you need something, Lix?”

Felix shook his head, he had to take a second to answer because he was so surprised. Is Hyunjin actually… Is he covering for me? “No, hyung.”

He heard Chan sigh. “Okay, okay. Hyunjin, noona is searching for you. We should shoot right now.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Sure, okay,” Chan said with a hint of hesitation. “Are you sure he doesn’t need anything?”

“He’ll be okay, hyung,” Hyunjin replied with a smile. Felix couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“Okay. I trust you, Hyunjin. Come down soon, alright?”

“Yeah.”

Felix heard Chan sigh and murmur something under his breath before he walked away. It wasn’t until they could no longer hear his footsteps that Hyunjin walked to the door and unlocked it. He glanced back at him.

“Stay here, alright?”

All Felix could do was nod, the sudden surge of gratitude too great for him to even think of disagreeing.

A minute passed, and he was alone in the bathroom until Hyunjin returned. He carefully slid the door shut and handed Felix a piece of gum. Felix took it, the fresh taste exploding in his mouth while Hyunjin opened a pack of wet wipes and gestured at the toilet.

“Sit down, please.”

Felix walked toward it and sank onto the closed lid, his body feeling both heavy and weightless with shock. Hyunjin stood before him, tearing open a small packet of cleansing wipes.

He took one, the cool scent of aloe filling the small space, and without a word, began to wipe Felix’s face. Starting at his temples, moving in gentle, methodical strokes over his forehead, down the slope of his nose, across his cheeks where tears and stress had left their marks. He tilted Felix’s chin up slightly to swipe under his eyes, careful around the delicate, swollen skin.

Felix sat perfectly still, watching Hyunjin’s face, transfixed.

How beautiful…

A lump formed in Felix’s throat that had nothing to do with being sick.

Hyunjin had covered for him. And here Felix was, thinking he would… He should have known better. Hyunjin didn’t seem loyal by nature, especially not to Chan. He was too much of a narcissist to be loyal to anyone but himself.

But why did he cover for Felix, then?

Did that mean that in some sick, twisted way, he was loyal to Felix, too?

Felix's breath hitched.

He thought of it now, just how unusual it was for Hyunjin to show so much commitment to taking care of anyone. He’d rarely seen Hyunjin care for others… maybe the younger members, especially Jeongin if he was unwell… But this, what Hyunjin was doing for him... Had it ever happened before?

Why me? Felix thought, eyeing Hyunjin with confusion.

Hyunjin finished, tossing the used wipes into the small bin. He stepped back, assessing his work with a critical eye. “You’re good to go. Tell noona to get you a drink with electrolytes. You look dehydrated.” He gave a short, businesslike nod. “See you later, Felix.”

He turned to leave, but Felix didn’t want him to go.

Maybe he was actually dizzy, but he didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to go back out there and face others. Hyunjin felt like the only safe option left. And he felt so grateful...

Without thinking, Felix lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Hyunjin’s knees, hugging him as close as he possibly could. He rested his head on his sharp hip, refusing to let go.

Hyunjin paused, no doubt confused. “… what are you doing?”

Felix’s voice was small, muffled against his jeans. “Ah… I- Thank you.”

Silence fell between them, and Felix couldn’t bring himself to look up to check Hyunjin’s reaction. He was sure Hyunjin was surprised, or maybe he had that disgusted look on his face. But it didn't deter Felix in any way. 

He didn't let go.

He heard a soft sound, a faint, incredulous laugh, before he felt fingers thread gently through his sweat-damp hair. “It’s not a problem, angel.”

Felix practically felt himself turn into a jelly.

Hyunjin felt so warm. So comfortable. And he smelled good, too. Felix hugged him closer, inhaling deeply.

Hyunjin withdrew his hand, letting him have a moment of comfort before he spoke again. “Let me go now, yeah?”

“Oh… sorry,” he stammered, his arms dropping from around Hyunjin’s waist to wrap tightly around his own torso. He tucked his chin into his chest, desperate to hide the heat flooding his cheeks. 

He half-expected Hyunjin to mock him and call him weak, like he had all those times before. But, surprisingly, Hyunjin didn’t show any disgust or annoyance. He didn’t leave, and he didn’t say anything, either.

When the silence stretched too long, Felix was about to peer from behind his palms when Hyunjin stepped back into his personal space. Long, elegant fingers slid under Felix’s jaw, cupping his face. Slowly, Hyunjin forced Felix’s head up until their eyes met.

Hyunjin was smiling at him as he leaned down, his warm breath ghosting against Felix’s skin a split second before his lips made contact. He pressed a slow, tender kiss to Felix’s left cheek, right over the blotchy, tear-stained area he had just finished cleaning. Then, he moved to the right, repeating the gesture.

It was so…

Felix felt his brain short-circuit. He went beet-red, the flush spreading down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his shirt. He stared at Hyunjin, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in surprise.

“See you later, Felix,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice low and comforting as he smiled at him.

Hyunjin turned on his heel and slipped out of the bathroom. The lock clicked into place behind him, leaving the room silent once more.

Felix stood frozen for a long moment, his body trembling. He slowly raised his palms, hid his face in them, and let out a muffled, frustrated sound that was half-sob, half-scream. 

His face was burning.

He pressed his thumbs into the areas where Hyunjin kissed him, and the skin was hot, like it was an iron that touched him.

A minute passed. He was almost contemplating not even leaving the room when he heard Iseul calling for him, followed by a knock on the door.

“Felix? Are you alright?”

He stood up immediately, his voice frantic. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay, noona!”

He left the room without taking a glance back, his face still beet-red.

═══════

Two weeks had passed. They were no longer in the U.S., and their tour was almost over. In just a few days, they would return to Seoul for a brief break. Felix planned to visit Australia soon.

The tour itself was going fine. Felix still wasn’t speaking to Chan, who still cast guilty glances his way, but they all remained professional on stage. Changbin and Seungmin had apologized for what they’d done, and Felix forgave them, though he was certain they would still report him if he skipped a meal anyway.

And they did. It seemed all of them did now.

They tried to be discreet, but Felix noticed every time they eyed his full plates and then typed on their phones as if responding to something urgent. And, predictably, Hyunjin would appear soon after, sit down with him, and the familiar ritual would begin again.

Felix ate. Hyunjin did whatever he wanted to entertain himself. Sometimes Felix was on edge and would do something to annoy Hyunjin, which was most often spilling something on his lap, whether salt or a drink Felix had brought for himself. Because Hyunjin never brought drinks now. He’d learned that lesson quickly enough.

Hyunjin would look at him with narrowed eyes, a silent Are you serious? Felix would just smile and finish his meal. And it would start all over again.

Felix was so used to the routine he hardly fought it anymore. He almost expected Hyunjin to appear whenever he was near food. Sometimes he skipped meals deliberately, just so his bandmates would call Hyunjin to check on him.

It was fun, really. It was fun having Hyunjin around so often. Felix didn’t even notice how much his mood had improved over the week.

Not just his mood, but his energy levels, too. Fans noticed first, how much more lively Felix seemed on stage, how much more vigorous his movements had become. Iseul complimented him privately, saying, “This is progress, Felix-ah. You’re doing great. Keep it up.” The members noticed, too, and praised him carefully, avoiding any mention of his weight. Which Felix was sure had changed. It didn’t make sense if it hadn’t. He’d been eating three times a day for maybe more than a month now, and had vomited maybe three or four times in total. Which was something that he hadn’t done since being a teenager.

He didn’t want to look in the mirror. Thankfully, his busy schedule kept him from thinking about it too much. If the stylists had adjusted the sizing of his outfits, they hadn’t said a word.

Everything was going fine.

The suffocating feeling persisted. Not a day passed without him wanting to vomit, but weirdly, the urge was decreasing. It wasn't like that all the time, though. Some days, the urge came back so sharply Felix had no other choice except sticking his fingers in his mouth and gagging until the feeling dissappeared. Because he couldn't breathe or think if he didn't. But, as always, Hyunjin would somehow know after looking him over, and he would have that mocking gaze that bordered on curiosity. As if Felix was an undiscovered species that he had never seen before. And if Hyunjin caught him during the act, he would clean him up and call him pathetic to top it all.

Weirdly enough, Felix felt the most grateful for Hyunjin these moments than any other he spend with him.

Felix still felt angry, though. Especially when he saw his bandmates watching him and Hyunjin with small, satisfied smiles, as if celebrating an accomplishment, as if a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders now that they’d outsourced their biggest problem to someone else.

But Felix wasn’t allowed to be angry. Not at them. They wouldn’t understand, first of all, and Felix didn’t want their apologies, not while knowing how hollow they were.

Because he knew what was left unsaid: Comply with our method of care, or you are rejecting our love and endangering the group.

So he stayed silent, letting the simmering betrayal fester deep inside him until it would, inevitably, harm them all.

Felix returned to his bright, stitched-on smiles and caring eyes in a blink of an eye.

The most paradoxical part was how his view had shifted. He felt he had no one else to turn to, not after his own members had proved they could go behind his back. So the most intimate moments he had now were with Hyunjin. Felix felt relatively at ease around him. Because with Hyunjin, he was allowed to be angry. In fact, Hyunjin was the person who had endured his anger the most.

And Hyunjin never truly gave a shit.

Felix found himself smiling when Hyunjin came to check on him, especially early in the mornings, when Hyunjin wore a tired look that made him seem softer. And his tiredness meant he had less patience for Felix’s antics, so his remarks were sharper, his reactions more visceral. “Stop chewing so loudly, for fuck’s sake. You sound like a starving frog.”

It felt… weirdly domestic. Wildly different from how they were before.

And it seemed like others noticed the change in their relationship, too.

“You’re doing incredible, Hyunjin.”

It was late at night. Everyone was asleep. Felix had intended to go to bed as well, but he’d stopped in his tracks when he recognized the leader’s back on the hotel balcony. He hovered just out of sight, hidden in the shadows of the lounge.

Felix was there for… maybe ten minutes already, but nothing was happening. Chan was sipping a hot drink, leaning against the steel railing. Hyunjin sat on the outdoor couch, phone in hand. They’d been silent for this whole time, and Felix was about to slip away when Chan spoke, his tone sincere in a way that was rare for him.

Felix stopped. Hyunjin looked equally taken aback. He glanced up. “In what?”

Chan smiled. “Just in general… but especially with him. I can’t thank you enough, really.”

With who? Felix’s brow furrowed before smoothing out. Oh.

Of course they meant him.

“You’re welcome, but it’s-”

“No, it’s a big deal. You can’t even imagine how big,” Chan interrupted. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I… thank you. I’m glad you’re…” He paused, searching for the right words, then looked at Hyunjin with a smile that lit up his whole face. “I’m glad you’re in our team.”

Hyunjin blinked. “Oh.”

He looked so thrown Felix almost wanted to laugh. Like he genuinely didn’t expect Chan to praise him.

But should he have expected it, really? Felix tried to remember the last time Hyunjin had been praised, and nothing came to mind. Which was alarming, considering how often the others received compliments.

Had he ever complimented Hyunjin? Felix couldn’t remember. Maybe, but it was so long ago. Probably on the concerts or during the shows…

A strange, hollow ache settled in his chest as he watched Hyunjin’s puzzled expression.

He didn’t have long to dwell on it. Hyunjin cleared his throat, gaze dropping back to his phone. “You’re welcome, but you don’t have to thank me. I would have tried to help anyway.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Chan took another sip. A comfortable silence fell, but it didn’t last long. “Seriously, though. What you’re doing is incredible. It’s way more than I ever expected… He looks better every time I see him.” He paused, his tone shifting into something deeply respectful. “You’re an awesome hyung.”

Hyunjin’s brows pulled together. “To who?”

“To everyone. But especially to Felix.”

“We’re the same age.”

“But you’re still in the hyung line, aren’t you? Our dongsaengs are lucky to have you.”

Hyunjin studied him. “Are you trying to get me to take care of others, too?” He asked Chan light-heartedly.

Chan let out a bright, melodic laugh. “Would you be against it?”

Hyunjin’s face quickly contorted in disgust. “Chan-”

“I’m not! I swear. Just saying what’s on my mind.” Chan waved his hand. “Actually, given how well things are going with Felix… I think the mandatory sessions are done. You guys are free from now on. Congratulations.”

Felix’s heart skipped. Free? He should have felt relief. Just a week ago, he would... but...

He felt a cold jolt of panic shot through him.

Hyunjin shrugged, expression unreadable. “I can still mentor him if he wants.”

Without thinking, Felix let out a soft breath of relief, and moved. The movement made his foot catch on the edge of a decorative floor vase. The ceramic scraped against the tile with a loud, jarring screech.

The conversation on the balcony stopped instantly.

Chan and Hyunjin both turned toward the glass door, peering into the darkened lounge. Felix froze, but it was too late.

Hyunjin watched him, amused by the flush creeping up Felix’s neck, before turning to Chan. “Have none of you taught him not to eavesdrop?”

Chan sighed, though he was still smiling. “Lix? Is that you?”

Shit.

Felix stepped out from the shadows, face burning. He avoided Chan’s eyes, looking straight at Hyunjin, who leaned back against the cushions with a lazy, triumphant tilt of his head - the same mocking expression he wore when he called Felix pathetic right to his face.

And Chan had just called him an awesome hyung. Felix almost wanted to laugh.

As if.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he lied, his voice small. “I was just… looking for water.”

Hyunjin raised a brow. “On the balcony?”

Chan ignored the obvious lie. He took a step closer. “Lix, finally, I’ve been trying to talk to you but you were running away. I want to say sorry-”

Oh, no. Not this shit again.

“No-” Felix stepped back.

“But I really do. I wasn’t being considerate. I’m sorry.” Chan’s voice was soft, his gaze warm enough to make Felix want to run. “I knew this could hurt you-”

“So why did you do it?” Felix hissed.

“Because I wanted you to be well. That’s all I ever wanted. Please understand.” Chan took another step. “I miss you so much, Lixie.” He sighed, expression weary but earnest. “Come on. Give me a hug?”

Felix’s lips pressed into a thin line. He could feel Hyunjin’s curious gaze on them.

He wanted to run.

“I don’t want our relationship to suffer because of this,” Chan continued, his voice dropping into that gentle, paternal tone that always made Felix feel like a child. He spread his arms. “Come on.”

Felix looked at Chan’s open arms, then flicked his eyes to Hyunjin. Hyunjin’s was looking at him expectantly, like he was gauging what he was about to do.

With a heavy, defeated sigh, Felix stepped forward and sank into Chan’s embrace. Chan’s arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling him in, shielding him from the cool night air. It was familiar. It was warm.

And tonight, Felix didn’t want it at all.

“Do you forgive me?” Chan murmured into his hair.

No.

Felix closed his eyes. He counted his breaths to regain control and not say what was actually on his mind.

“Yes,” he finally whispered, the word rough and unconvincing.

He knew his forgiveness changed nothing. Chan would still call Hyunjin the moment Felix skipped a meal. But saying no was impossible. He couldn’t stand the guilt of hurting Chan.

Comply with our method of care, or you are rejecting our love and endangering the group.

Chan squeezed him tighter, all the tension melting from his body. “Thank you, Lixie.” He pulled back just enough to press a soft kiss to the top of Felix’s head. Before Felix could slip away, Chan ran his hands over Felix’s shoulders, his expression shifting to concern. “You’re freezing.”

“I’m not,” Felix tried to deny, but the weather outside wasn’t nice. Back when he wasn’t struggling with food, he always used to overheat, even in winter, but now, even a slight drop in temperature was enough for him to catch a chill.

Chan sighed. “Let’s head back. It’s late,” he said, finally releasing him but keeping a hand on his shoulder as he turned toward the door.

Felix looked back at Hyunjin, who didn’t move from his spot. “… are you coming?” He hesitantly asked.

Hyunjin didn’t look like he was, but he let out a breath and stood, holding the door open for them.

Felix paused, his heart doing a strange, frantic skip. He didn’t want to leave.

He looked at Hyunjin. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come with you?”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up. Hyunjin’s brow furrowed slightly. “Why?”

“I just want to talk,” Felix said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Hyunjin studied him for a moment, but whatever he saw on Felix’s face was seemingly enough for him to agree. He nodded, gesturing for them to step inside.

Chan, visibly relieved that the two weren’t at each other’s throats, smiled.

“I’ll head to my room, then,” he said as they entered the hallway. He waved. “Goodnight, guys.”

Once Chan was gone, Hyunjin led Felix to his room. He pushed the door open and stepped aside to let Felix in before turning on the light. Felix stood there awkwardly as he watched Hyunjin rummage through a drawer, pulling out a pair of pants and a fresh towel.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Hyunjin said finally. “Do you want anything?”

Felix shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”

Hyunjin nodded, going to the bathroom, and the shower started. Felix let his eyes wander. The room was unnervingly neat, as if Hyunjin hadn’t been living there for days, which was probably true, given their schedule.

His gaze landed on a sketchbook on the desk. Chewing his lip, Felix drifted toward it and flipped the cover open.

Page after page was filled with intricate sketches: the skeletal structure of a lily, city skylines, portraits so lifelike they seemed to breathe. He lingered on a drawing of a pair of hands, the shading so precise it made his chest ache with admiration.

Were they Hyunjin’s hands? They had the same long lines. He flipped another page. There was drawing of everyday objects, landscapes he recognized. New York streets, vases, the entrance to the venue they were currently in.

The bathroom door opened, steam following Hyunjin out. Felix jumped, snapping the sketchbook shut. “Oh, sorry. I-”

“It’s alright,” Hyunjin said, sounding tired. He wore loose black pants but was still shirtless, skin damp and glowing under the lamplight.

Felix watched, transfixed, as Hyunjin rummaged through another drawer, his back turned to him. He looked at the taper of Hyunjin’s waist, the muscles flexing in his broad back. His eyes caught a droplet of water that trailed down his spine.

Felix forced himself to look away, swallowing hard.

Shit.

Hyunjin found a hair tie and pulled his damp hair into a messy bun. He turned, leaning back against the dresser.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Felix opened his mouth, but no words came. He hadn’t prepared anything to say. He’d just wanted an excuse to not be alone.

But actually…. He did have a question didn’t he? But he didn’t know how to put it. “Ah… I…” Felix swallowed. “Was it a one-time thing?”

“You mean sex?”

“Yes.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “That’s up to you to decide.”

“Oh.” Felix’s throat felt tight. He tried to not look at Hyunjin’s naked torso. “So you’re not against it?”

“Why would I be?”

“You haven’t said anything. I thought maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

Hyunjin smiled, amused. Really?

“Like I said, you’re in full control,” he explained, his voice oddly tender. “You decide how many times you want to sleep with me. It’s not my decision to make.”

It wasn’t the answer Felix expected, to say the least.

Suddenly, he remembered his argument with Chan…. How he’d insisted that decisions about his body should be his alone, and how Chan had replied, “No. If your life is on the line, it’s everyone’s.”

He stared at Hyunjin.

So Chan didn’t understand consent, but Hyunjin did?

The irony was almost cruel.

Felix nodded slowly, still half-expecting a punchline. “So… will you have sex with me right now?”

Hyunjin tilted his head. “Is that what you want?”

Felix glanced at the bed, then back. He tried to image what it would be if he said yes, but he didn’t feel up for it, not when Hyunjin looked as tired as he did now.

“No,” he admitted quietly. “Not tonight.”

He expected disappointment, but Hyunjin simply shrugged as if it were no big deal. He turned and climbed into bed, pulling back the duvet. “Is that all, then?”

Felix stood at the edge. He didn’t want to go back to his room. “Can I join you?”

Hyunjin looked at him with a strange, blank curiosity, then eventually scooted over, leaving a wide space. “Feel free.”

Felix slipped under the covers, curling into himself. The bed was warm, and Hyunjin’s scent was everywhere. Comforting, slightly expensive, as if Hyunjin had sprayed on a perfume.

He let out a sigh, and within minutes, the tension in his body began to dissolve.

For the first time in weeks, the buzzing in his mind quieted. He felt so comfortable that even if Hyunjin tried to kick him out later, he’d fight to stay.

Because, weirdly, he felt safer here…

Safe. In Hyunjin’s room.

How ridiculous did that sound?

Hyunjin reached over and clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. He settled on his side, facing away, initiating no contact. Felix shouldn’t have expected him to, but he still felt disappointed by it.

The silence felt heavy. After a few minutes, Felix spoke into the dark. “Hyunjin?”

“Hm?” Hyunjin replied half-heartedly, his voice tired.

“If I ask you to do something… can you promise you won’t move?”

“I thought you didn’t want sex?”

“It’s not about sex!” Felix’s cheeks warmed. “Just… can you lay on your back?”

He heard Hyunjin let out a long, weary sigh, but the bed shifted as he complied. Felix sat up, his eyes adjusting to the shadows. He looked at the broad expanse of Hyunjin’s chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Don’t move, okay?” Felix asked again.

“I’m not moving, Felix.”

Slowly, tentatively, Felix ran his hands along Hyunjin’s arms, feeling the hard muscle beneath his skin. He glanced up to check Hyunjin’s reaction, but Hyunjin was just watching him with half-lidded eyes, expression unreadable.

Felix took that as permission. He crawled closer, curling his body against Hyunjin’s side and wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. He buried his face in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck, inhaling deeply.

Hyunjin smelled incredible. Felix couldn’t even place the scent, but it was clean, warm, expensive, like skin and soap and something uniquely Hyunjin.

He was so warm, too. Felix felt ready to purr.

Hyunjin remained still, honoring his promise. Felix reached up, taking Hyunjin’s limp hand and placing it firmly on his own head.

Hyunjin’s fingers threaded through his hair, the touch surprisingly light. Felix let out a long, shaky sigh. “Yeah. Thank you.”

And, surprisingly, Hyunjin wasn't against it. He just hummed, seemingly unbothered by Felix hugging him. But considering how touch-averse he was...

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Felix whispered.

Hyunjin shook his head, though Felix felt him tense slightly. “No.”

“Are you…” Felix murmured, about to ask if he was lying, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to let go so soon.

He burrowed deeper, his forehead pressing against Hyunjin’s collarbone.

Hyunjin let out a quiet laugh that vibrated through Felix’s entire body. His hand in Felix’s hair tightened slightly, his thumb stroking Felix’s scalp in a rhythm that felt like a sedative.

Felix felt like a cat who finally found a patch of the sun.

It’s so good. How are you so warm?

Minutes passed in silence. The longer it went on, the tenser Hyunjin became beneath him. Felix half-expected to feel ashamed for forcing this proximity, but he knew if Hyunjin truly wanted him gone, he would have said so.

But Hyunjin never protested. So the silence was confirmation enough.

There were only the sounds of their breathing feeling the space. Felix counted them in his head, and the longer he went on, it become harder for him to stay awake. As if somehow Hyunjin’s room was a place he could lower his guard, which sounded ridiculous, to say the least.

But it was true. Because at least Hyunjin didn't lie to him. At least he was clear that he didn't give a shit about Felix's feelings. At least Hyunjin had the decency to never pretend that he was somehow a good person by controlling him.

At least Hyunjin was honest.

Felix let out a long, shaky breath, the last bit of resistance crumbling away.

The time stretched into a hazy blur as Felix drifted toward sleep. He was on the edge of unconsciousness when he felt a soft pressure against his forehead, something smooth and warm, a kiss so brief it felt more like a breath than a touch.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Hyunjin whispered into his ear, his voice a velvety murmur that raised goosebumps all down Felix’s neck and spine.

Hyunjin’s soft, amused chuckle followed Felix deep into his dreams after.

Chapter Text

The lighter clicked, the sound sharp in the silent room, before smoke dispersed in the air, thick and heavy.

It was late at night, not a sound escaping their dorms. Hyunjin was in his room, in Seoul, with the tours finally coming to a halt. But he wasn't alone.

On his bed was his own bandmate, wrapped in his comforter, his blonde hair messy and spreading on the pillow, completely taking up the space. His lips were parted, soft, steady breaths escaping them as he was deep in sleep. Not even the sound of Hyunjin rising from the bed and taking a shower seemed to wake him, which was odd, considering how much of a light sleeper he claimed to be.

The air in the room was humid, to say the least. Felix was sensitive to the cold air, so Hyunjin was forced to close up his windows when his bandmate came into his room at one in the morning and asked, "Hey… Um… Can I…"

Felix didn't finish the sentence then, looking at him like he expected Hyunjin to slam the door straight in his face.

Hyunjin didn't, although all of his body was screaming at him to do so.

"Can you what?" He asked instead, his voice hoarse.

Felix's body went taut with tension, as if he didn't expect the question. He cleared his throat. "Can I sleep here?"

"Changbin's room is right at the corner."

"He's a heavy sleeper."

Hyunjin's eyes narrowed, suspicious. "That never bothered you before."

"It does now, Hyunjin," Felix snapped, looking like a petulant child denied of candy.

Leave it to Felix to wake him up when he was finally getting rest, and now looking entitled to sleep in his room. Which was partially Hyunjin's fault, really. He’d let Felix sleep next to him three times already, and it was clear that all of this was getting to Felix's head.

"Can't you sleep alone? What are you, five?" Hyunjin snapped.

"Me and Innie came-"

"And you can go back to your dorm."

Felix's lips thinned into a line. "It's late."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Hyunjin ran a hand over his face, the weight of Felix's expectant stare boring into him. "Fine," he muttered finally, stepping aside. "Get in."

He didn't miss the way Felix's shoulders sagged with relief, or the quiet "thank you" that followed as the younger slipped past him into the room.

Hyunjin climbed back into bed, turning to face the wall, putting as much distance between them as the mattress would allow. The sheets rustled as Felix settled in behind him. The room fell into a thick silence then, broken only by their breathing.

It was suffocating.

Hyunjin tried to will himself back to sleep, counting backwards, focusing on his breath, anything. But his body remained taut, hyperaware of the presence behind him.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Felix's heart was beating frantically. Hyunjin could hear it. He tried to scoot himself closer to the wall. But the sound was still there.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump, thump, thumpthump-

"Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin didn't respond, shutting his eyes tightly.

Shut up. Please, for the love of God-

"Can you..." Felix's voice was small, unsure. "Can you lay on your back?"

Hyunjin's jaw clenched hard enough that he could hear the grind of his teeth. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest. The last thing he wanted was to end up with Felix's weight on top of him, and small hands gripping his waist, as if he was afraid Hyunjin would somehow slip away and what? Leave him? Kill him in his sleep?

Hyunjin's biology wouldn't grant him the freedom to do either one of those.

So he forced himself to comply.

And within seconds, Felix shifted closer. Then he was moving again, and suddenly there was weight, a body draping itself across Hyunjin's torso, a head settling into the curve of his neck.

Hyunjin's breath caught in his throat.

Felix's body pressed against him, wrapping around him like a blanket made of lead. He could feel Felix's breathing fanning over his neck. The boy was so close he could practically hear the sound of Felix's nervous swallowing like it was put on a microphone.

Hyunjin couldn't move. His eyes squeezed shut, every nerve ending firing with the wrongness of it all. Not because it was necessarily something amoral, but because not one cell in his body could accept and genuinely enjoy the proximity of another person. Even if the person was Felix.

Three-hundred-eight, three-hundred-nine, three-hundred-ten…

Five-hundred-nineteen, five-hundred-twenty…

Two-thousand-fifty-nine…

When he reached the count of five-thousand, the moment finally came. Felix's breathing evened out. Hyunjin slowly pressed his fingertips to Felix's neck, searching for a pulse, and the heartbeats were slower now, relaxed.

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…

Hyunjin gently loosened Felix's grip around his waist, soundlessly lowering his bandmate's hands onto the mattress. And with tiny, micro movements, he managed to extract himself from Felix's grasp, leaving the boy on his stomach instead, hugging the pillow in his sleep.

And now, Hyunjin stood at his window, cigarette between his fingers, eyes barely open at four in the morning. The city outside was quiet, with barely anyone walking or driving on the road, making the space feel eerie, unusual. The smoke curled up into the night air, dissipating into nothing.

It was hilarious, really. How utterly useless Hyunjin was at this.

How… pathetic.

When he first started taking care of Felix, he severely underestimated the severity of the downsides it would bring. He knew that it was a big risk, especially because not one member except Chan trusted him with their little princess. He knew he had to prove himself with results, and if he failed, it was likely that he would never be trusted with Felix again.

Hyunjin knew that he wouldn't be forgiven, too, especially because of how brutal his methods were. If he failed, he couldn't justify them. What would he say, really? "I told him he's pathetic because I wanted him to prove me wrong. I tried to manipulate his ego so he would eat. I didn't mean any harm."

While technically true, none of his bandmates would believe him. And who would blame them? The hurt that his methods would cause would severely outweigh the benefits in case he failed, and nobody would give a shit about his intentions behind them. It was Felix, after all. The group's little angel. Their baby.

Hyunjin wouldn't stand a chance.

But, thankfully, it worked. Felix's pride was as strong as ever. One "You're weak and pathetic" was all it took for Felix to start eating. Because Felix knew it was true. Everyone did.

He was solely focused on Felix's health and increasing his longevity then, not taking into account other downsides this experience would bring to him. His bandmates increasingly became more trusting toward him, and Hyunjin told himself that this was all. He overcame the biggest obstacle now.

But he was wrong.

So utterly wrong that he had to laugh at himself.

It all started when Felix began looking at him like Hyunjin was someone he could rely on. Someone whose presence he genuinely seemed to enjoy.

And it was confusing, to say the least.

Hyunjin noticed the slight distance Felix put between himself and others. He still smiled at them just fine, still acted like their little bundle of joy, but it was obvious that Felix never meant a second of it. The others seemed not to notice the change, acting like their normal selves around him, which puzzled Hyunjin at first. Were they pretending not to notice so as to avoid conflict? It was the most probable answer, but as he studied them further, he realized that it wasn't an act at all.

They genuinely didn't seem to have a clue.

Not even Felix's high-pitched laughter and his overcompensating behavior as he continued to please them to his best ability, cook them food, gift them tiny meaningless souvenirs that he justified with sentiment ("This reminded me of you, Innie. Isn't it cute? It sings, too!"), and wax poetic about them as they revealed their insecurities ("Why are you hiding your smile, Seungminnie? You look like a chibi puppy! Haven't you seen the fans' comments? They think you're adorable!") seemed to ring any bells for them.

His bandmates were buying Felix's act, like all the times before. To them, Felix was just behaving normally. Maybe a little sweeter than he was before, but that's just who Felix was.

Their little angel.

The only person Felix was behaving differently toward was Hyunjin. Which was never an issue before, at least for Hyunjin himself. He never gave a shit about Felix's animosity toward him. But it was different now, wasn't it?

The animosity seemed to disappear with each passing day.

And Felix started seeking him out.

Hyunjin noticed it first by how Felix was looking at him. When he came to accompany him during meals, Felix would eat slower than usual, which Hyunjin chalked up to Felix trying to annoy him on purpose, but it seemed that it wasn't Felix's intention at all. When Hyunjin, at his wit's end, snapped at him to stop wasting time, Felix didn't have that pleased smirk on his face that usually followed after he got a reaction out of him.

He just looked, and at first, he smiled, enjoying the fact he got on his nerves, but after a minute, his eyes turned confused, as if he didn't understand why Hyunjin wanted to end this sooner and leave.

As if he didn't want Hyunjin to leave at all.

Hyunjin ignored him then, reasoning that it was just Felix's mood. Or some tactic to annoy him even more.

But it turned out that he had misunderstood him.

As the days passed, Felix showed more change. He didn't avoid him in the corridors, no longer avoided conversations with him as he ate, tried to initiate conversations himself, and looked at him with a slight, almost imperceptible longing which was hard to ignore.

Hyunjin could see that Felix was still afraid of him. It seemed that nothing Hyunjin could do was enough to get rid of that fear. Felix was intelligent enough to realize that something was wrong, that Hyunjin himself wasn't a right person to long for. But his emotions undermined every bit of logic he had and now they were here, weren't they?

And despite his fear, Felix still came back to him. And somewhere along the line, he realized Hyunjin wouldn't say no to him, so he got bolder and bolder, demanding more. Because that little shit enjoyed his discomfort.

So much for being the group’s angel.

Hyunjin chuckled, puffing out the smoke into the cold, dark air. It curled up in waves. One, two, three, and it completely dissipated into nothing.

Felix shifted on the bed, and the slight sound of it creaking was enough to pull him out of his reverie. Hyunjin glanced back, line appearing between his brows, checking Felix over, but it seemed that he was doing fine. His expression was relaxed, and he was still asleep, a tiny amount of drool escaping his pink mouth as he lost himself to his dreams.

Hyunjin watched him for a long minute, the cigarette in his hand forgotten.

He should probably quit smoking. Or get a smoke extractor installed in his room so Felix didn't have to inhale and damage his lungs with secondhand smoke. He should have installed it sooner. How many times had Felix asked to sleep in his bed already? Three? And Felix's body was already weak, especially his organs due to his ED, so he was probably more prone to damage than others.

Hyunjin's smoking got worse as their tours came to an end. It was never a problem before. He smoked when he was in a good mood, or when his body or mind needed relief. And because these instances were relatively infrequent, the habit never became a daily thing he indulged in. But now, as he had someone else in his space, someone whom he actively took care of like a bird with a clipped wing, it all became worse.

He smoked in stolen moments, always alone. During bathroom breaks with the fan running. On the balcony at 3 AM when he couldn't sleep. Out his bedroom window when Felix finally left.

It was the only thing that felt like his. The only choice that was entirely his own.

Because it was all about Felix now, wasn't it?

He had to change his routine.

When Hyunjin came back to Seoul and realized that Felix would probably not decide against seeking him out, he stashed his refrigerator with safe foods that he knew Felix had less trouble eating. Protein powder for pancakes, Greek yogurt, bananas. Felix naturally gravitated toward sugary foods, and he had to include the ones that were necessary for Felix and packed with protein and healthy fats, so Felix's body could genuinely recover. His free time no longer was his, because any time he tried to relax, his bandmates would call him, asking him to check on their sunshine. Hell, not even sleeping was safe. 

It was all Felix now. Felix will be affected by this. This will harm Felix. This will make Felix purge again. If he does this, Felix will stop seeking him out and avoid him instead, which was worse than tolerating having someone else in his space. He had to ensure that Felix had enough reason to stay. To not even have an option to leave.

Felix's health. Felix's dependency. Felix's choice.

Felix, Felix, Felix.

He watched the rise and fall of the blond boy's chest, and his lip curled, displeased… resentful.

Not toward Felix, but mostly at himself. For never accounting for this in the first place.

He wasn't made for this. Whatever fuck this was. Which was ironic, because didn't he want this? Didn't he want Felix dependent so he wouldn't leave? Wasn't his solitude a small price to pay to have Felix within his reach now? Coming to him out of his own will?

But Hyunjin was never meant to take care of anyone else this way. It felt like his body was revolting against itself anytime Felix looked at him with longing, anytime he sought warmth and wrapped himself around him like a second skin.

Hyunjin wasn't meant for Felix, specifically.

Felix needed someone who could offer him genuine care. Who could offer him understanding. Because that's what Felix sought when he came into his room, wasn't it?

He wanted Hyunjin to understand him.

He needed someone like Chan. Or Jisung, even. Felix needed good people who could provide him warmth, kindness, and empathy. Someone who was capable, at least.

Any other person but him.

Too bad that Felix was too fucked-up to make the right decision and chose Hyunjin instead. And now his choice was costing both of them. Hyunjin his solitude, and Felix his independence.

He stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill, closing the window quietly. He didn't look at Felix as he moved toward the door, his body moving on autopilot almost, with no conscious thought.

He couldn't sleep anymore. There was no point in trying.

The apartment was dark and silent. He made his way to the kitchen, clicking the lights on, ignoring his blurry vision at the harshness of it all. From a drawer, he pulled out a small ashtray, one he'd started keeping stashed in various places around the dorm. And when he sat down on the stool, his lighter clicked immediately, the flame casting brief orange light across his face before he brought it to a fresh cigarette.

The first drag filled his lungs. He held it. Exhaled slowly.

It was pathetic, really. How utterly incompatible they truly were.

He sat there in the darkness, smoke curling around him, exhaustion washing over him in heavy waves.

He wanted to be alone.

Far, far away from his broken bandmate who didn't even realize how self-destructive he truly was. How much it cost Hyunjin to go against his instincts, his nature, and make space for him, keep him alive and healthy, maintain him-

"Hyung?"

Hyunjin's head snapped up. Jeongin stood in the doorway, hair mussed from sleep, eyes squinting against the kitchen light.

Not this shit now.

Hyunjin tried not to show agitation on his face. "Why are you up so late?" he asked, ashing the cigarette on the tray.

"I wanted water." Jeongin moved further into the kitchen, bare feet silent against the floor. "Why are you up?"

Because of your little princess, Hyunjin wanted to say, but he held his tongue. "I couldn't sleep."

Jeongin's forehead creased slightly with worry as he reached for a glass. "Again? That's not normal, hyung. You should see- Has the medical team checked you yet?"

"They did, yeah."

"What did they say?"

"It's nothing urgent," Hyunjin shrugged, puffing out the smoke. "They just told me to get some rest. I have vitamin B12 deficiency, apparently."

"And you didn't listen to them."

He couldn't deal with Jeongin’s mother-henning now. Hyunjin's eyes narrowed. "I'm still functional, aren't I?"

Jeongin looked at him, confused, slightly concerned. He filled his glass at the sink, then instead of heading back to his room, he settled onto the stool beside Hyunjin.

Hyunjin immediately stood up.

"You're leaving?" The youngest asked, his tone wary.

"Yeah."

"Is Felix with you?"

Hyunjin paused, hand on the back of the stool. "Where else would he be?"

Jeongin watched him with that same concerned expression. Hyunjin's skin itched. And just as he was about to leave, he heard Jeongin call after him again.

"Take care of yourself, hyung."

Hyunjin paused at the doorway, glancing back. He nodded, throwing out the cigarette in the trash can. "Of course. Good night, In-ah."

He left before Jeongin could say anything else. He dragged his feet back upstairs, back to his room where Felix was still sleeping in his bed, still taking up space that wasn't his.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Hyunjin leaned against it for a moment, looking at the boy's sleeping form, his head tilted, brows pinched together.

There was a tiny dark patch on the pillowcase, near Felix's mouth, where the fabric caught his drool. He would have to change the case today.

Hyunjin's gaze grew heavier, his shoulders tensing up just a bit.

You can't even do this shit properly. How the hell did you exist before, on your own?

Felix remained unbothered, not moving an inch.

Take care of yourself.

As if he had the luxury.

═══════

"Hyunjin."

Hyunjin didn't respond, but the grimace on his lips betrayed he was listening.

"Hyunjin!"

"What?" Hyunjin snapped, glancing back at Changbin, who was sitting at the kitchen stool, looking at him with a displeased frown on his face.

"You aren't listening to me. I said-"

"I heard what you said, hyung," Hyunjin interrupted him. He looked at his coffee, the smell of it easing his nerves just a bit. He inhaled sharply. "I'll check on Felix, don't worry."

He heard Changbin click his tongue. "I didn't say that, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin looked back at him, brow raised.

"Lino wanted to talk to you," Changbin continued as he cut his omelette with a fork. "He texted me now. Why aren't you checking your inbox?"

Hyunjin stirred his drink, taking a sip. He grimaced at the taste. "Did you put sugar in this?"

"No?"

The dancer grabbed the small coffee packets he had found forgotten in the kitchen drawer. He checked the ingredients, and there was a quantity of sugar involved. Not much, but enough for it to taste like shit.

He opened the drawer and grabbed the rest of the packets, walking to the trash can. He glanced back at Changbin. "Do you mind?"

Changbin shrugged. "No. I don't drink much coffee anyway."

Hyunjin dumped the packets in the trash. "Did hyung mention what he wanted to talk about?"

"Yes," Changbin said. He paused for a second, looking unsure. "It's about… um…"

"It's about Felix, isn't it?"

"Well…" Changbin set down his fork, meeting Hyunjin's eyes, a little bit unsure. "I don't think it's only about Felix. But you should respond. He's getting annoyed."

Hyunjin's jaw tightened. Of course Minho was annoyed. Minho had been annoyed since this whole thing started.

"When isn't he annoyed, hyung?" he gritted out.

"He just wants the best for Felix, you know that," Changbin tried to explain. He massaged the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. "Please listen to him, Jin. He'll blow up my phone if you don't."

Hyunjin inhaled sharply, willing himself not to lose his cool. After a moment, he looked at Changbin and nodded, turning back to make himself another cup of coffee.

Minho turned out to be the most difficult person to convince as Hyunjin started to help Felix with his eating. The first time Hyunjin called Felix pathetic for not eating right in front of Minho's face, the oldest had cornered him in a hallway, and he'd had a mix of tense, angry, and disappointed look on his face that made Hyunjin's skin crawl.

"I don't want to hear that shit coming from you ever again, Hyunjin," Minho practically growled into his face, glaring at him like Hyunjin had spat on an altar. "Call him pathetic again and I-"

Hyunjin interrupted him. "Take it up with Chan, hyung."

Minho's fury grew, but so did his confusion. "The fuck has Chan to do with this?"

"He's the one who assigned me to him."

Minho paused for a second.

"To Felix?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"He thinks I have some kind of gift for this, apparently."

"Be serious, Hyunjin," Minho snapped.

"I'm being serious, hyung." Hyunjin gave him a brief smile. "Go talk to him."

And Minho did. And while Hyunjin hadn't heard a word of their conversation, Seungmin told him later that they'd had a big disagreement over it when Hyunjin asked about the palpable tension between those two.

"Minho-hyung thinks it was a stupid choice. You're not a professional."

Hyunjin nodded. "Tell me about it."

Seungmin grabbed his bag from the hangers. "But I think he'll calm down soon. You get Felix to eat. That's a good thing."

Hyunjin watched him, curious. "You don't care about how miserable he looks?"

Seungmin met his eyes, his own gaze defensive. "Yongbok looks miserable around food all the time. It's not about you."

All Hyunjin could do was laugh in response.

And Seungmin was right. As weeks passed and Felix started to show results, Minho slowly began to show trust in him. He didn't fully trust him around Felix yet, but the evidence was undeniable. What Hyunjin was doing was effective, and Felix was slowly starting to gain back energy and a little bit of weight.

But Minho still couldn't accept that Hyunjin used humiliation to work on Felix's ego and get him to eat. Especially when Hyunjin called Felix childish or weak for not doing so. And as much as Hyunjin tried to convince Minho that urging Felix to take accountability for his actions and act like a normal adult was the best choice, Minho disagreed.

"Do you understand how absurd it is to call him weak for having an ED? Why would you even think that… This is bullying, Hyunjin. You're fucking bullying him. You're not helping anyone!" Minho practically shouted in his face backstage, not even paying attention to the staff that were looking at them with curious and confused glances.

Hyunjin's lips thinned into a tight line. This shit again? "And he eats, hyung. He wants to prove me wrong so he eats. Would you rather I force the food down his throat?"

Minho's gaze hardened. "What? Is that how you want to help him?"

"What else do you want me to do?"

"Just treat him with respect, Hyunjin! Is that too hard?!"

"Unfortunately for everyone, he's too fucked up to react to anything positive," Hyunjin replied, trying to keep his voice level. He could hear the staff whispering around them. They should probably move to another room. "I'm just doing what I know works, hyung."

Minho snarled, and he took a step forward, the light in his eyes dimming a bit. "You're calling him fucked-up for having an ED? Is that it? Is this how you-" Minho inhaled. "Do you even give a fuck about him, Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin raised a brow. What a dumb thing to say. And here he thought Minho was one of the most intelligent members of the band. "Why would I take care of him if I didn't care about him, hyung?"

"I don't fucking know! Do you enjoy this? Bullying him? Is that it?"

"You think I'm doing this for my own pleasure?"

"What else are you doing this for? I swear, Hyunjin…" The older pointed a finger at him, eyes blazing with anger. "If you think you're a hero for doing this, you couldn't be more wrong. I don't give a fuck if you manage to make him eat or not. If you're doing this just because you want to seem like you care, or make him feel like he's obligated to you, stop. I won't say this twice."

A laugh bubbled up in his throat, dry and scorching. A hero? Who was he, Chan?

And here Hyunjin was, working tirelessly to take care of their little princess. Actually getting him to eat and function, which none of these motherfuckers bothered to do before. And he had to deal with their complaints, too?

Hyunjin paused for a second, controlling his breathing to come out steady and relaxed.

He took a step back.

"That's not a problem, hyung." Hyunjin smiled at him, his voice calm. "I won't intervene, then. You guys know better."

He turned to leave, ignoring Minho calling after him, "I'm serious, Hyunjin!" and went back to the dressing room, where none of his bandmates were, thankfully, allowing him time to calm down.

And it all went as expected. Hyunjin had two days of peace, leaving Felix all alone to fend for himself and letting the members take care of him, before Jeongin called him after dinner, asking him to come and help Felix with his meal.

"He isn't eating dinner. I don't want him to lose all the progress and go back to his habits, hyung. Can you come?"

Hyunjin pressed the phone between his shoulder and ear, putting the dumbbells back into their place at their hotel gym. "I'm busy now. Are you with him?"

"… no."

"Why did you leave him alone?"

"No, no, I didn't. He's with Lino-hyung and Binnie. They asked me to call you."

Minho did? Hyunjin grinned. "Oh? Why?"

"Changbin said some stupid shit about me being your favorite and asked me." Jeongin let out a sigh. "Just go check on Felix-hyung, please. I'm worried about him."

Hyunjin straightened up. "Sure. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Okay. Thank you, hyung!"

Hyunjin hung up the call, his mood suddenly becoming better.

It was hilarious. How brittle human ego was. It was especially funny how, when Hyunjin finally came to help Felix with his meal, Minho ignored him, as if looking at him directly would confirm his own failure.

His hyung hadn't argued with him since.

But he still had his complaints: "Don't crowd him, Hyunjin. Give him space." "Don't make him eat this much, it's too soon for him now." "He needs to focus his energy on the show today. Don't overwhelm him, Hyunjin."

And all Hyunjin could do was nod and act as if he was listening while he held back his annoyance. What is he, a china doll? Will he shatter if the wind blows, hyung?

Changbin cleared his throat, grabbing Hyunjin's attention once again. "You're still not listening to me, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin looked at him, suddenly fatigue dredging through him, leaving his limbs feeling like dead weight. How he wanted this to end…

"Did Minho-hyung text you anything else?" He asked.

"Yes. I told you he was annoyed."

Hyunjin let out a heavy sigh. "I'll text him, hyung. Don't worry."

Changbin's mood brightened.

"Alright, then." Changbin stood, grabbing his plate. "I'm heading out. Got a session with Han in twenty."

Hyunjin watched him leave, the kitchen falling into silence. He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the screen before he finally opened his messages.

The text from Minho sat at the top, timestamped from fifteen minutes ago.

The medics checked Felix today, and he's doing better. But they said he was stressed and that his hemoglobin is low. Don’t do or say anything to make it worse.

Hyunjin stared at the message, reading it once, twice, three times.

Don't make it worse.

Was Minho acting dumb on purpose? How couldn't he realize the fucking obvious?

You're the problem, dipshit.

He pocketed his phone, jaw clenching so hard his teeth ached.

Hyunjin ran a hand over his face, bone tired already.

Be effective, but don't be too effective, Hyunjin. We will assign you to care for our weak link even if you have no specialty to help him, but you should succeed, Hyunjin. Do the job, but do it perfectly, Hyunjin. Don't you dare harm him, Hyunjin. Follow our rules, Hyunjin.

He pushed off the counter, leaving his ruined coffee in the sink.

It suddenly became harder to remember why he agreed to this in the first place.

═══════

"… Is anything wrong, Hyunjin?"

Hyunjin glanced up from his book. "Why?"

"You don't look okay." Felix said as he took a bite of his food.

"It's nothing for you to worry about."

Silence settled between them. "I think you should go to a doctor," Felix said hesitantly.

Hyunjin didn't answer, flipping a page.

Felix had trouble keeping quiet, apparently.

"You reek of smoke, too."

This little shit.

Hyunjin glanced up, meeting Felix's startled gaze, his own eyes narrowed.

"Finish your meal, Felix," he gritted out, already at his wit's end.

Silence settled between them again. But it didn't last long.

Of fucking course.

"You need a break," Felix said, his voice small, like he was afraid Hyunjin would blow right in his face if he spoke any louder.

Hyunjin turned another page, even though he hadn't read a single word on the previous one. His eyes tracked the lines without absorbing them.

Felix's chopsticks clinked against the bowl.

"I'm serious," Felix continued, firmer now. "When was the last time you slept properly?"

Hyunjin raised a brow. Since when did Felix start giving a shit about his health?

"I sleep fine," he said, looking up, studying Felix's face.

He noticed the small furrow in Felix's brow, as if the younger was genuinely worried.

Hyunjin's eyes narrowed into slits.

"That's a lie." Felix took another small bite, chewing slowly. "Jeongin told me you were up at three again."

"Jeongin should learn to keep things to himself.”

"But he's right. And he was concerned about you… You genuinely look…" Felix paused, apparently at a loss for what to say. "Is it… Is it because of me? Am I disturbing you?"

No shit.

Hyunjin went back to his book. "Eat, Felix."

"I am eating." There was a defensive edge to his voice now. "See? I'm eating."

Do it faster, Hyunjin wanted to say, but he held his tongue, remembering Minho's warning.

He sighed and forced himself to concentrate on the book.

The room fell dead silent once again.

Five-hundred-ninety-five, five-hundred-ninety-six, five-hundred-ninety-seven…

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. Each clink of chopsticks against ceramic felt forcefully spaced out, like Felix was performing some kind of meditation ritual instead of just eating a meal. Hyunjin's eyes remained fixed on the page, still the same page he'd been staring at for the past ten minutes, but his attention was entirely on the sounds across from him.

Chew. Swallow. Pause.

Chopsticks lifting. Setting down.

Water glass picked up. Set down.

Hyunjin's jaw ached from clenching. His shoulders had crept up toward his ears without him noticing. The fluorescent light above them seemed to buzz louder with each passing second, drilling into his skull.

Fifty-three seconds since the last bite.

He started counting again when he heard Felix shift in his seat. The younger member cleared his throat softly.

Six-hundred-eighty, six-hundred-eighty-one, six-hundred-

Finally, finally, Hyunjin heard the click of chopsticks being set down on the table.

He was on his feet immediately, chair scraping loudly against the floor as he closed the book with a snap. He crossed to the small shelf by Felix's door where he'd found it earlier, sliding it back into place between a manga volume and some photography book which undoubtedly belonged to Seungmin.

Felix didn't allow him to leave so soon.

"Are you leaving?" He asked, his voice sounding small.

Hyunjin's hand was already on the doorframe. He glanced back. Felix was looking at him with those big, expressive eyes, like he wanted something from him. Again.

"Do you want something?" Hyunjin asked, his voice even.

"No, no." Felix shook his head quickly, hands fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. "Just… I…"

Hyunjin raised a brow. Spit it out already.

And finally, after what felt like eternity, Felix did. "I think you should… I think you need a break, Hyunjin. You shouldn't come here anymore."

What?

Hyunjin's expression turned grim in the blink of an eye.

"You want to get rid of me?" he asked, and even though he tried not to let it show, the sentence still ended up sounding like a threat.

This was it? All of this, all of this work he put into Felix, and now the boy wanted him gone?

Just like that?

Hyunjin's hand clenched into a fist.

"No, that's not what I meant." Felix waved his hand in a dismissing gesture. "I think you need to take care of yourself more. So… I'll eat. I won't… I'll eat on my own so…"

Felix didn't finish his sentence, looking at him like he expected him to understand. Hyunjin did, but he didn't say a word, waiting for Felix to word out what he truly meant.

Felix frowned, inhaling before starting again. "I think you're stressed. I think it would be better if you take time… time to wind down a bit. And it's our break time, too…"

"You're sure you'll do fine on your own?"

"I'm not a toddler, Hyunjin. I'm sure I'll somehow manage," Felix replied, looking visibly agitated. "Just go, alright? I'll be fine, I promise."

Both of them were seemingly aware of how brittle that promise was. Felix hadn't been eating regularly for long enough for it to have any meaning. It sounded more like Felix was trying to get himself back to his old habits, which had to be the reason why Felix asked for it in the first place. Maybe he didn't realize it consciously, but it was easy to predict that without any surveillance, Felix would last maybe a week at most before going back to purging and skipping meals again.

But Hyunjin was tired. And a week sounded like enough time to get some rest. So what was he losing by agreeing anyway?

Felix mistook his silence for disagreement. He spoke again.

"I'm serious." Felix's voice was quieter now, almost pleading. "You don't have to come here. I'll eat."

Hyunjin studied him for a long moment. Felix wouldn't meet his eyes, focused instead on picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. His shoulders were curved inward, making him look smaller than he was.

Felix was massively underestimating the amount of care he needed.

But Hyunjin was already utterly spent, bone-dry of the will to actually simulate care.

"Sure." He nodded, turning back toward the door. "See you later, Felix."

"Wait-"

Hyunjin paused, hand on the doorframe.

"I… I… Uh…" Felix fiddled with his fingers, looking unusually nervous all of a sudden. "I wanted to… I want to say sorry."

"For what?"

"For this… I didn't think about how tiring this must be for you. And…" Felix paused, a flash of guilt in his eyes as he met Hyunjin's gaze head on. "I won't come to your room anymore. That must be the reason you can't sleep, too."

Look at Felix being sweet and sincere. Hyunjin wanted to laugh. "You have nothing to apologize for. This was my choice."

"Sure, but I know I make you uncomfortable. So…" Felix furrowed his brows, looking at his hands, awkward as he tried to think of what to say. "I don't even get why you don't kick me out if you don't want me there."

"You think I have a problem with saying no?"

"No, and that's what's confusing." Felix looked at him, his gaze contemplative. "Why aren't you saying no to me?"

Hyunjin shrugged. "Who knows, maybe I enjoy your company."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

Hyunjin laughed, turning the door handle before stepping out of the room. "Goodbye, Yongbokkie."

"Wait! I want to know-"

Hyunjin shut the door.

═══════

Felix was right, in a way.

Hyunjin hadn't even realized how much he needed a break until now.

The first night without having to think about how every decision would affect Felix, he'd slept for eleven hours straight. Eleven. He woke up disoriented, checking his phone, convinced he'd somehow missed an entire day, but no. It was just his body finally catching up on weeks of accumulated exhaustion.

The second night it was ten hours. Deep, dreamless sleep that left him feeling like he could function normally again.

The third day was the same. Spending the entire day to himself, in his own space, in his own room. There was no fragile creature demanding his attention. There was no one he had to take care of.

Hyunjin was alone again.

And it was freeing.

He'd smoked maybe three cigarettes total over the past seventy-two hours, compared to the half-a-pack-a-day habit he'd developed during the Felix surveillance period.

Nobody had called him. Nobody had texted asking him to accompany Felix to a meal. Minho was silent, too. The group chat remained quiet except for the occasional memes from Jisung or practice video from Changbin.

They were still on break. No schedules. No idol work. Just empty days stretching out before him.

Felix still visited from time to time, but it was rarely about him. He was mostly there to hang out with Changbin and Jisung while Hyunjin was in his room, relaxing, painting, or reading something he couldn't give less of a shit about. They rarely even met. Mostly in the kitchen or in the living room as Felix hung out with others and Hyunjin came down to grab a meal, but when that happened, Felix ignored him, conversing with others animatedly, his full attention on them.

It seemed like he was fully committed to giving Hyunjin space.

And somehow, that was worse.

Hyunjin knew he wouldn't last a long time. Hell, lasting three days without stimulation seemed to be a miracle, given how worse his previous experiences of withdrawal were. But now not only his body, but his mind demanded rest too. And that allowed him freedom of solitude, but it was short-lived.

By the fourth afternoon, Hyunjin found himself lying on his couch, staring at the ceiling, counting the small imperfections in the paint. He'd already scrolled through his phone twice, and he couldn't find anything interesting. Tried to watch a drama, a show, a documentary, anything, really, but it all bored him to death. Tried to sketch, too, but his mind wasn't into it, his hand moving across the paper like a machine.

Then it all started again. His mind was empty and full at once. Like static on a television, white noise filling space where something should be in principle.

The only sound in his room was the hum of the refrigerator and the dull, rhythmic thud of his own pulse in his ears. Thump… Thump…    Thump. He could hear a leaky faucet somewhere down the hall. Drip. Pause. Drip.

God, he was so fucking bored.

He'd experienced worse cases of withdrawal, so the boredom now wasn't unbearable, exactly, but it sat under his skin like an itch he couldn't quite reach.

Beside Felix providing him involuntary stimulation, Hyunjin had gotten used to the constant vigilance, he realized. The mental checklist. The observation. The problem-solving. As exhausting as it had been, at least it had given his mind something to do.

What the fuck did he have to do now?

He even considered texting Felix. Just a quick check-in. Did you eat lunch?

But Felix had told him not to come, and Hyunjin had agreed. So he stayed on his couch, phone in hand, doing nothing.

And as the fifth day came, something exciting finally happened. It was a message from a group chat.

Chan: Hey guys. You should all be here at 7 at our place. Don't be late :)

Right. The celebration.

Hyunjin had almost forgotten they were supposed to celebrate the tour ending. Under normal circumstances, he might have made an excuse, because he never enjoyed that much noise to begin with and preferred to be alone. But the thought of sitting alone now in his dorm for another evening made his skin crawl.

Besides, he would get to see Felix. And that was a reason enough to go.

Chan's dorm was already loud when Hyunjin arrived at 7:15. The main room table was covered with bottles of soju, wine, and the remnants of multiple takeout containers. Changbin and Seungmin were arguing loudly about something while Jisung watched with barely concealed amusement. Jeongin was already pink-cheeked, laughing at something on his phone.

"Oh, hyung!" Jeongin exclaimed when he looked up from his phone, grinning widely at the sight of him. "You're late! What did you bring?"

Hyunjin set the bottle on the table nearby. "It's just maekju, In-ah. Don't get excited."

"Ah, perfect." Jeongin was already on his feet, walking toward him. "Chan-hyung doesn't drink anymore so he didn't buy any."

Hyunjin glanced around the room. Chan was in the kitchen, half-visible through the doorway, moving around, cooking something Hyunjin couldn't see. He checked other places too, the balcony, the corners, but there wasn't anyone else here.

"Where's Felix?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"He and Minho-hyung went to the market." Jeongin sat at the table, folding his hands in front of him. "Me and Chan-hyung were trying to make something but we ran out of time, so Minho is bringing fast food instead." He smiled up at Hyunjin. "How are you, hyung? Haven't seen you in a while. You actually look better, by the way."

Did he? Hyunjin couldn't see much change personally. "Really?"

"Jisung!" Jeongin craned his neck toward his bandmate. "Look at him. Doesn't he look better?"

Jisung lowered his phone, squinting across the room. "Oh, Hyunjin." He waved lazily. "Yeah, actually. You have color in your face now." He tilted his head, scanning him over. "I swear I could see your veins through your skin before. It was kind of horrifying."

Hyunjin laughed, settling into the empty chair across from them. "Thanks for telling me."

Jisung stuck his tongue out at him, but Jeongin was already moving on, launching into something about his girlfriend with the particular enthusiasm he reserved for topics he'd clearly been waiting to talk about. Hyunjin caught enough, something about a meeting, a miscommunication, a resolution that apparently involved Jeongin buying flowers at 11 PM, to nod and respond at the right intervals, but his attention kept drifting. He was looking at the door, expecting it to open and see Felix already.

He caught himself thinking it and pushed it aside.

"-and she said that wasn't even the point, which, okay, fair enough, but then why…"

Jeongin continued talking, pretending not to notice his lack of attention. And just as he was getting to the final part, the front door opened, finally.

Minho came in first, bags hanging from both arms, already talking before he'd fully crossed the threshold. "Someone come help, I'm carrying everything-"

Changbin was up immediately, Seungmin close behind, both of them moving to take bags from Minho's hands.

Felix followed him in shortly after.

He was wearing a light jacket, slightly too thin for the weather, his blonde hair mussed from the wind. He had two bags looped over his wrists and his phone in one hand, and he was laughing at something Minho had apparently said on the way up, his head tilted back slightly, the sound of it easy and unguarded.

Hyunjin's eyes moved over him, checking his state.

The color in Felix's face looked good. His cheeks were slightly pink from the cold, but he didn't have the artificial color indicative of fever, and not even the grey undertone that crept in when he hadn't been eating enough. His eyes were bright. He handed his bags off to Seungmin with ease, like the weight of them didn't wind him at all.

Hyunjin checked him longer then, trying to guess if Felix purged while he was away, but Felix's face was clear. There was no evidence that he did.

He seemed fine.

Surprisingly, genuinely fine.

Oh.

What did that mean, specifically? That Felix could do fine on his own now? That he didn't need care anymore?

That Felix had the option to leave? That he knew he could?

Hyunjin's gaze turned heavier, contemplative, cataloging every detail, every breath.

Felix looked up, eyes scanning the room, and landed on Hyunjin.

Something shifted in his expression. Brief, barely perceptible. Then his mouth curved into a small smile, and he looked away again, already being pulled into conversation by Jeongin, who had abandoned his story entirely to get up and greet him.

Hyunjin looked back at the table.

He reached for his bottle of beer, twisted it open, and took a slow drink.

He tried not to think about it anymore. He was half-successful at best.

The night went fine. Two hours in, and his bandmates were already drunk, celebrating their successful tour. Chan was the one who said the most toasts, and everyone went along with it, taking shots after shots for no reason at all. After three shots, Hyunjin stopped, his throat burning from the unpleasant taste.

He didn't look at Felix during the night, and Felix didn't look at him either. But from the sound of it, Felix was having a good time. Maybe his smiles were artificial, but he celebrated with everyone else and said toasts himself.

Hyunjin tuned him out shortly after.

"Truth or dare!" Jisung announced suddenly, slamming his hand on the table. "We're playing truth or dare."

The room filled with the sounds of groans from multiple people.

"Come on, we always do this when we drink," Jisung protested. "It's tradition!"

"We did this only two times," Seungmin pointed out.

"Two times is enough to make it tradition, Seungmin-ah."

The game started, chaotic and loud the way everything with Jisung involved became. Hyunjin stood quietly and went to the hangers by the door, checking the pockets of his jacket. His fingers found the familiar shape of a cigarette pack. He pulled it out, then patted his other pockets.

No lighter.

Shit.

Hyunjin glanced back at the group. They were absorbed in the game as Jisung guilt-tripped Minho into choosing truth. He crossed over to where Chan sat and crouched down beside him.

"Hyung," he whispered, careful not to disturb his bandmates nearby.

"Oh, Hyunjin!" Chan jumped slightly, hand over his heart. "You scared me."

"Do you have a lighter?"

"A lighter? I think so… One second." Chan stood and went to his jacket, rummaging through the pockets. He pulled out a small black lighter and handed it over. "Here. Are you going to go outside?"

"Yeah." Hyunjin tugged his jacket on. "Do you want to come?"

"Sure."

They slipped out quietly, the noise from the apartment fading as the door closed behind them. Chan led him around the corner of the building to a small alcove, technically still part of the property but secluded enough that they had privacy. It was where they usually went when they needed to smoke without being seen.

Hyunjin handed Chan a cigarette as well.

Chan took it with a rueful smile. "Thanks."

There weren't any seats at the place, so Hyunjin sat down on the ground, his back against the building. The concrete was cold through his jacket, grounding. Chan did the same beside him, their shoulders almost touching.

In front of them, past a small stretch of grass, was a children's playground, which was barely lived-in, swings moving slightly in the breeze and creaking amid the silence. Beyond that, there was a cluster of trees, branches bare and skeletal against the night sky.

They both gazed at it in silence, smoke curling up into the darkness.

"Did you drink today?" Chan asked finally, breaking the silence.

Hyunjin puffed out the smoke. "Not that much. You?"

"I'm trying to quit. Last month was seriously a disaster for me." Chan laughed, but it sounded tired. "I think I have gastritis. I threw up a week ago when I had a drink."

"Have the medics checked you?"

"Yeah. It's not looking too great. They said it was inflammation, I don't know." Chan waved his hand dismissively, taking a drag. "Have the doctors checked you, Hyunjin?"

"Yeah."

"What did they say?"

Hyunjin smiled. "That I need a break."

"Ah… I thought the same. You looked…" Chan paused, searching for the right thing to say. "… very worn. These past few weeks. More than usual after tour." He glanced over at him. "How are you feeling now?"

Hyunjin exhaled smoke slowly, watching it dissipate into the night air. "Better, definitely. Thank you for asking."

"Good. That's good." Chan nodded, then went quiet for a moment. "Felix has been doing okay, by the way. In case you were wondering."

Hyunjin chuckled. When did he say anything about Felix? "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He's been eating with Minho mostly. Sometimes Changbin." Chan tapped ash off his cigarette. "Seems to be managing. Thanks to you."

Seems to be, Hyunjin thought. But didn't say.

"That's good," he said instead, flicking the cigarette and watching the ashes crumble on the ground. "He looks better now, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Chan said, but his voice sounded a bit unsure. "He's making progress."

Another silence. The swing creaked softly in the wind.

"I'm sorry about this, by the way," Chan said quietly.

Hyunjin looked at him. "For what?"

"For putting that on you. The whole… Felix situation." Chan was staring straight ahead at the playground, not meeting Hyunjin's eyes. "I thought-"

Him, too? Did he and Felix have a secret agreement to annoy Hyunjin or something?

"It's okay, hyung," Hyunjin interrupted him. 

Chan sighed, and he didn't say anything else.

So they sat there, in silence, the swings in the playground still creaking as the wind blew. Hyunjin was about to finish his cigarette and leave when Chan spoke again.

"Minho told me he talked to you… About how you were handling things." Chan's voice was careful now. "He said you two argued."

Hyunjin nodded. "We disagreed on methods. But it's fine now."

"Yeah." Chan laughed softly, humorlessly. "That's one way to put it. He was pretty pissed at me too, after. Said I was using you because I didn't know what else to do." He paused. "He wasn't wrong."

Hyunjin flicked ash onto the ground. "It worked though. You did what was necessary, hyung."

Chan was silent for a second, blowing out smoke before he asked, "What would you do, Hyunjin?"

"In your position?"

"Yeah. If you were a leader." Chan said. "Have you never thought what it would be like if you were one?"

Hyunjin laughed. "Not necessarily, no."

"Why?"

Was Chan serious? "I don't want to be a leader."

"But you would be a good leader, I think…"

A good leader? By which standards?

Hyunjin tried not to laugh.

"If I were a leader, this group probably wouldn't exist now," he replied instead, his voice soft.

"You think so?" Chan laughed. "Why?"

"Because I don't know how to lead, hyung."

Why was Chan asking this anyway? Hyunjin eyed him. Chan had that awkward smile on his face, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold. He wasn't looking at Hyunjin, his eyes stuck on the playground, and his expression was overall… contemplative, almost sad.

Was Chan insecure about his position? Was that it? Did he think he had compromised the members' trust in him once Hyunjin started showing results?

It made sense. Chan's priority had always been the members. He wanted them to rely on him. But now…

“… Said I was using you because I didn't know what else to do … He wasn't wrong."

Hyunjin cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

"Hyung," Hyunjin began, his eyes stuck to Chan's profile. "Nobody sees me as a leader. Everyone would choose you over me. They would be dumb not to."

Chan looked at him, slightly confused. "… I don't… Why do you even think that?"

Did he have to spell it out, for fuck's sake? But he had to, didn't he? The last thing he wanted was to be seen as more of a threat. "The members value you because you invest in them so much. Look at me." Hyunjin smiled at him once Chan eyed him, the oldest's gaze getting more contemplative. "Do you think I could do the same?"

Chan seemed unsure what to say. For a second, he paused. "What about you, Hyunjin?" he asked, looking at him directly in the eye.

Hyunjin looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Do you see me…" Chan swallowed. Then he shook his head, flicking the ash onto the ground. "Forget about it. It's a dumb question."

"Are you asking if I respect you as a leader?"

Chan smiled at him. "I know you do. It was a stupid question, don't worry about it."

Hyunjin didn't press further. He stood up, stubbed the cigarette out on a trash can nearby. "Are you coming?"

Chan paused for a second and stood up hesitantly, brushing ash off his jeans. "Yeah, sure."

When they went back inside, the members were still playing the game. Hyunjin sat down in his previous spot, his gaze immediately going to Felix.

And something was off.

Felix was less focused, his eyes not quite tracking the conversation. His breathing seemed to have picked up pace, and Hyunjin watched his chest rise through his t-shirt. It was undoubtedly faster now, shallow and spaced-out. He was sitting very still, hands gripping his knees, like he was trying to hold himself together by sheer will alone.

Hyunjin raised a brow.

"Truth or dare, Lix-ah?" Seungmin asked, grinning.

"Ah… I-"

"Felix?" Hyunjin interrupted.

Felix looked up at him, and Hyunjin watched his throat work as he swallowed, seemingly nervous.

"… Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

All attention shifted to Felix immediately. He waved a dismissive hand, but the movement was weak. "I'm fine, I'm fine! I just…" He paused, swallowing hard. "I think I need to lay down for a bit. I…"

Was he drunk?

"How much did you drink?"

"Not much, I-"

"Hyung?" Hyunjin asked Minho instead, who was sitting next to Felix.

"He only had two shots of soju," Minho said.

How the hell… Hyunjin's brows pulled together. "Did you drink on an empty stomach, Felix?"

But Hyunjin would have noticed if Felix was hungry. He checked Felix over again, but the usual signs of hunger weren't there. Felix's face didn't lack any color, his hands were steady, there were no signs of low blood sugar…

The fuck was wrong with him then?

Felix didn't answer him. He just stood up, too quickly, and stumbled.

Chan was on his feet immediately, catching Felix's elbow before he could fall. "Whoa, easy. Come on, let's get you lying down."

He guided Felix carefully toward his room, one arm around his shoulders. The apartment had gone quiet, everyone watching them disappear down the hallway.

"Does he take alcohol well normally?" Hyunjin turned to Minho again, who was watching the door.

Minho looked at him and paused for a second to think. "I don't think I've seen him drink, actually," he said. "But maybe it upset his stomach. I don't think he's drunk. He was doing fine till now."

"He'll be fine. If he gets sick, we have medicine for that here," Jeongin chimed in, pointing at the kitchen. "Chan-hyung brought it today just in case."

Hyunjin looked back at the door where Felix disappeared, his shoulders tensed.

How the hell did Felix manage to be sick all the time? Was this his specialty?

The members went back to the game, and Hyunjin pretended to pay attention. And just as five minutes passed, Chan reappeared in the doorway, expression tight with concern. "Hyunjin? Can you come here?"

Hyunjin was already standing.

Chan met him in the hallway, voice low. "I don't think he can stomach this. Can you help me?"

Hyunjin nodded and followed him into the bedroom.

Felix was sprawled across the bed, one arm thrown over his face, his brows furrowed in pain. His breathing was rapid and shallow, chest rising and falling too fast. Even in the dim light, Hyunjin could see how pale he'd gotten already.

"Felix." Hyunjin moved to the side of the bed. "Sit up."

"No," Felix mumbled. "Just… just leave me alone."

"For fuck's sake. Stay still." Hyunjin slid an arm behind Felix's shoulders, trying to pull him upright, but Felix resisted, trying to curl back into himself.

"I- I want to vomit," Felix gasped out.

Hyunjin glanced back at Chan. "Can you bring a container, hyung?"

Chan hurried to the bathroom. Hyunjin kept his grip on Felix, forcing him to sit up despite the resistance. Felix's whole body was trembling now.

"Look up." Hyunjin raised Felix's head gently, tilting his chin. That's when he noticed the wetness tracking down Felix's cheeks, the way his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Why are you crying, Felix?" He asked, keeping his tone gentle.

"This is e-embarrassing." Felix's voice broke. "I told- I told you I would be fine."

I never took your word for it anyway, Hyunjin wanted to say, but Chan hurried back with a plastic container, setting it on the bed. Hyunjin reached up and undid his hair to gather the blonde strands back, securing them quickly with the elastic from his own wrist.

"Come on," Hyunjin said quietly, guiding Felix forward so he was positioned over the container. "Let it out."

It didn't take long. Five seconds in, and Felix's body convulsed, and he retched into the container. Hyunjin kept one hand on his back, the other holding his hair secure, feeling each heave through Felix's spine.

His lip curled in disgust at the gurgling sounds Felix made, which bordered on painful, but he kept his hand on Felix's back anyway, waiting for him to be done.

Felix threw up twice more, each time his whole body shaking with the effort. When it was over, he was gasping, tears streaming freely down his face.

"I'm sorry," Felix choked out between breaths. "I'm sorry, I'm-"

"Shut up," Hyunjin replied. He took the napkins from Chan and wiped Felix's mouth carefully.

"Is it alcohol poisoning? Maybe he needs a doctor?" Chan asked, worried.

Hyunjin had no idea. He shrugged. "I don't think it's that much of a problem," he replied, looking at Felix's heaving form. "Do you feel better now?"

"A little bit… I… Uh…" Felix coughed. "I ate spicy ramen before this. Maybe it's because of that."

It was definitely because of that. What made Felix think he could handle alcohol and something spicy together on an already weak stomach?

So much for claiming not to be a toddler. Hyunjin was already fed up. "You should go back to your dorm, Felix."

"Why?"

What? "What do you mean why?"

Felix looked at him stubbornly, his voice firm. "I want to stay here-"

"You need to take a shower and rest."

Felix seemed to want to say something else, but Chan intervened. "He's right, Lix-ah. Do you want me to take you home?" He paused for a second, and glanced at Hyunjin, adding hesitantly. "Or Hyunjin can… Can you…?"

Hyunjin gave him a nod. He wasn't doing much here anyway. The whole reason why he came was Felix in the first place. "Yeah, sure."

Felix was silent, not saying a word.

Chan nodded and smiled at him, like this was expected. "Okay. Let me know if you need anything. And Felix-ah, feel better, yeah?"

Felix managed a weak smile. "Thanks, hyung. Sorry for…"

"Don't apologize, baby." Chan squeezed his shoulder briefly. "Just try to be more mindful of what you eat next time. It'll be fine."

Felix nodded hesitantly, but Hyunjin could see the slight tension in his shoulders giving his frustration away. Like Felix was frustrated he was being handled like a child.

Hyunjin smiled at his discomfort, trying not to laugh.

You brought this on yourself.

Chan helped Felix stand up, steadying him with one hand under his elbow. Felix swayed slightly, and for a moment Hyunjin thought he might refuse the help, saw the flash of pride in his eyes, the way his jaw tightened, but Felix, thankfully, just gave in. He let Chan guide him to his feet, and didn't refuse when Hyunjin moved to his other side, leading him toward the door. He threw a weak wave and "Goodbye" at Chan and didn't say anything else, not even looking at him.

In the living room, the others looked up as they passed.

"Felix okay?" Changbin called out.

The question was directed at Hyunjin.

Not at Felix, who was standing right there, conscious, capable of answering for himself, but at him.

Hyunjin looked at him, confused.

"He will be," he answered after a pause. "I'm taking him home."

"Good idea," Jeongin said brightly, and there was something in his expression… relief, maybe. Approval. Like he'd expected exactly this. "Get well soon, Felix-hyung!"

Felix managed a weak wave in response.

Seungmin waved back at him. Minho looked worried but didn't ask questions, thankfully.

No one offered to help. No one suggested they could take Felix instead. Not even Minho, for that matter. No one even seemed surprised.

Like this was Hyunjin's responsibility. Like this was his official duty, to take care of their weak link.

Hyunjin tilted his head at the sight.

When did this happen, exactly?

The walk back was quiet. When Hyunjin glanced back, Felix's head was down, shoulders hunched inward. Seemingly ashamed.

Hyunjin turned back around and kept walking.

When they finally reached Felix's dorm, Felix immediately went to shower, leaving Hyunjin alone in the kitchen. He rummaged through the drawers, finding something to drink. But they didn't even have coffee. All they had was barley tea and banana milks in the freezer.

He poured himself a glass of water, his lips set into a thin line, and sat down on the stool. The dorm was silent, with just the sound of running water from the bathroom and his own breathing.

Should he be angry?

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes from his jacket and a kitchen lighter from the table. The lighter clicked, flame casting brief shadows across the room before he brought it to the stick. The first drag filled his lungs, and he exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl toward the ceiling.

Hyunjin thought about the evening. About how quickly he'd made the decision to leave, to take Felix home. About how no one had questioned it. About how the first thought Chan had when Felix was unwell was to call him for help.

And how it almost became automatic, taking care of Felix. Even if not an inch of his body actually enjoyed the act.

Felix needed care. Realistically, he wouldn't survive long if he let his ED take over; Hyunjin knew that. It frustrated him to no end, but he still calculated his efforts to keep Felix functional, but never entirely whole. Because if Felix became too healthy, he would leave, and Hyunjin would be cast back into the vacuum of his own mind, trying to simulate the feeling of being human again.

Should he be angry at his bandmates then, when they assumed that Hyunjin was responsible for Felix's health?

Hyunjin wasn't sure.

Did he even want this responsibility anyway?

Hyunjin took a drag, inhaling the smoke sharply, thinking.

The question felt pointless even as he asked it. Want had nothing to do with it. Wanting was for people who had options. Hyunjin had already made his choice, not tonight, but weeks ago, when he'd started tracking Felix's meals and when he'd stocked his fridge. Especially when he'd let Felix sleep in his bed the first time instead of turning him away.

It didn't matter what he wanted. It never truly did. At the end of the day, he wasn't irreplaceable. Felix still had the option to pick and choose between him and others, while Hyunjin had no such freedom. His biology wouldn't allow him anyone but Felix. Not anyone that he knew, at least.

So why was he reluctant to accept Felix as his?

While it was true that he had trouble giving up his freedom and solitude, he made a choice tonight, didn't he? His actions spoke for themselves. He decided not just to help Felix, but to claim the responsibility. To decide what happened to him. To override Felix's protests and the group's assumptions and simply take control.

I'm taking him home.

He didn't even ask.

And everyone, Felix included, had simply accepted it.

Were his bandmates wrong to assume? Were they taking advantage, pushing their burden onto him?

Hyunjin turned it over in his mind, examining it from different angles like he might examine choreography.

He'd never felt responsible for another human being before. He had never seen anyone as his, as his person. One he would take care of and value. One whose life mattered to him.

But it wasn't like he had any choice. His body already chose Felix as his. He just had trouble consciously doing so, because Felix required so much care and attention from him.

But Felix's survival meant his own, too. Maybe not in a literal sense, but Hyunjin would prefer dealing with the group's princess all his life than to be bored.

It wasn't like he had a choice. The options themselves involved suffering. One was just greater than the other.

Hyunjin felt himself smile. Then laugh, quiet, almost soundless, smoke escaping with the exhale.

Who was he turning into, really?

The shower shut off. Hyunjin stubbed out his cigarette on the plate he'd been using as an ashtray, waiting.

One minute. Two. He could hear Felix moving in there, the slide of a towel, the click of a cabinet, a long pause where nothing happened at all. And after a few minutes, Felix came out of the room. His hair was damp, hanging in his eyes. He was wearing a t-shirt that was too big on him and a pair of sweatpants that looked like pajamas. His face was clean, scrubbed pink, but his eyes were still red-rimmed.

He stood in the doorway, looking at him like he didn't expect Hyunjin to be here at all.

"Ah… Why didn't you leave?"

Hyunjin raised a brow. "Are you kicking me out?"

"No, Hyunjin," Felix said. "But I feel okay. You don't need to be here anymore."

"I want to be here," Hyunjin clarified. "Do you mind?"

Felix shook his head, but he didn't meet his eyes. Instead he crossed to the other side of the kitchen, opened a cabinet, closed it. And opened another. He was looking for a glass, apparently, even though the glasses were on the opposite side and Felix had lived in this dorm long enough to know that.

Seconds passed in silence before he spoke again.

"I'm sorry you had to take care of me." Felix's voice was quiet, directed at the wall. "You should really go home."

Why are you apologizing? Hyunjin almost said. Isn't that my job?

He looked at him, taking in the way he made himself small, shoulders curved inward. The shame written across every line of his body.

This must be hard for Felix too, given his pride. Hyunjin had never considered it before. He still had trouble relying on anyone, especially Hyunjin, apparently.

Felix still didn't trust him.

I gave up everything I valued for you, Hyunjin thought, bitterness growing inside him, overtaking every part of his body. And you still don't trust me?

Hyunjin's gaze grew sharper, looking at Felix like he was trying to dig a hole into his skin by his stare alone.

The silence stretched around them. Felix turned the glass in his hands, set it down, and picked it up again. His thumb traced the rim in small, repetitive circles.

"Hyunjin," Felix spoke. “Go ho-“

"I heard you the first time."

Felix finally looked at him, just briefly, before his gaze dropped to the counter again. His fingers tightened around the glass.

Hyunjin studied him for a long moment. Felix shifted under his gaze, uncomfortable.

"Come here," Hyunjin said quietly.

Felix's head came up slightly, eyes widening. "What?"

"Come here."

Felix hesitated for a second. His body swayed forward slightly then, like he wanted to move, but his feet stayed planted on the floor anyway. He looked at Hyunjin, then away, then back again.

Felix didn’t trust him.

"Hyunjin, I-"

"Come here, Felix," he repeated, firmer this time.

Something shifted in Felix's expression. His lips parted slightly, breath catching. Then he moved slowly, lowering the glass on the table. He crossed the room with careful steps, like he was approaching a wild animal.

He stopped just out of reach. Close enough that Hyunjin could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his hands twisted in the oversized t-shirt. Close enough, but not quite there.

Felix searched his face, gauging his every reaction like Hyunjin was about to attack him.

Hyunjin reached out and caught Felix's wrist.

Felix stumbled forward with a small, surprised sound, and Hyunjin guided him down, turning him, settling him into his lap. Felix went easily, pliant, his body fitting against Hyunjin's like it belonged there. His hands had come up instinctively to grip Hyunjin's shoulders, steadying himself.

Hyunjin smiled at him.

Felix's face was flushed now, and his breathing was faster, too. His damp hair fell into his eyes, and without thinking, Hyunjin reached up and brushed it back, his fingers sliding through the wet blonde strands.

Felix's eyes widened even more.

Hyunjin's hand moved from Felix's hair to his face, thumb tracing along his cheekbone. He heard Felix swallow, but the boy, despite his racing heart and pink face, was still looking at him like he was afraid Hyunjin would throw him off his lap, grab a knife, and end his life right there and then.

That wouldn't do.

Hyunjin traced lower, following the line of Felix's jaw, feeling the slight roughness where he'd need to shave soon. His fingers found the pulse point at Felix's throat, and pressed there lightly.

Felix's heartbeat was frantic under his fingertips.

It was so fast. So vulnerable. So utterly bare.

And judging by the way his breath caught, Hyunjin’s pulse was the same.

Felix made a small sound and leaned into the touch. His head tilted back slightly, exposing more of his throat. His eyes closed, although Hyunjin could see that it was just involuntary.

Felix was responding to him with his body alone.

The word slipped out before Hyunjin could think about it.

"Baby."

Felix's eyes snapped open. His whole body went still for a second, his pupils blown wide, lips parted in surprise. But Hyunjin could see it clearly on his face, although it was small. Hope.

Felix’s body could never lie to him. But his mind was another thing entirely.

Hyunjin gave him a second of freedom, waiting for him to free himself from his grip and do anything, or even protest, but Felix never moved an inch. He was still looking at him with those large, vulnerable eyes, tiny hands gripping his shoulders, steadying himself.

He wants this, doesn't he?

Felix wanted to be his.

The absurdity of it, Felix, of all people, choosing him, struck Hyunjin so abruptly that he laughed.

Felix flinched, hurt flashing across his face. He moved to pull back-

Hyunjin's hand shifted from his throat to cup his jaw before he could.

"What-"

Hyunjin’s thumb brushed across Felix's lower lip, feeling the softness, the slight tremble of them.

His other hand settled on Felix's hip, holding him in place.

"Do you want to be my baby, Felix?" he asked, smiling at him, already knowing the answer.

Felix stared at him, his eyes becoming impossibly huge, and Hyunjin had to hold back a groan when he felt a spark of desire flash into his body straight from Felix’s own.

Fuck.

The boy’s eyes were searching Hyunjin's face for any kind of deception, any kind of lie.

But Hyunjin wasn't lying. If Felix truly wanted to be his, he would be loyal to him down to his grave.

Hyunjin watched Felix's throat work as he swallowed.

"I-" Felix's voice broke. He seemed like he couldn't even answer if he wanted to.

Hyunjin traced his lip again and pressed, urging Felix's mouth to open. Just a bit, but it was enough for him to slip his finger inside and feel the sharpness of Felix's teeth.

"I can take care of you," he whispered, leaning forward, placing a brief kiss on Felix's racing pulse point on his neck. Hyunjin's own pulse was hammering now, his breaths coming shorter. "You wouldn't need anyone else, baby."

Felix didn't answer him. It wasn't like he could, with Hyunjin's thumb in his mouth. He just watched him, his expression open and unguarded. Waiting.

Hyunjin smiled up at him.

"After all, aren't I your hyung?"

Felix shook his head, his eyes still confused, as if asking, Why…?

"No?" Hyunjin's smile widened. He slipped his finger a bit further, feeling the wetness of Felix’s tongue. God- "Then what am I to you, Felix?"

Felix's mouth opened and closed around his thumb. But still, no words came out of it.

“You’re- No, Hyunjin. Why…” Felix struggled in his grip, moving his mouth away, apparently back into his senses.

Hyunjin's smile turned into a grin.

"Come on." Hyunjin stood, pulling Felix up with him.

Felix swayed immediately, legs unsteady. His hands clutched at Hyunjin's shoulders to keep from falling.

"I've got you." Hyunjin's arm went around his waist. "Can you walk?"

Felix looked down at his own legs like he wasn't sure they'd work. He didn't answer, but the rigidity of his body said enough.

"No?" Hyunjin's voice was soft. "Want me to carry you?"

Felix's face flushed darker. But after a moment, he nodded, defeated.

Hyunjin lifted him carefully with one arm under his knees, one behind his back. Felix made a small sound but didn't protest, thankfully. Just wrapped his arms around Hyunjin's neck and tucked his face against his shoulder.

"Which bedroom?" Hyunjin asked quietly.

Felix's voice was muffled. "… End of the hall."

Felix's room was small and neat. The bed was made, blankets pulled tight, a stuffed plushie Hyunjin recognized as Changbin's Dwaekki leaned against the pillow. Photos covered one wall, one where the members were laughing, another of his family at some holiday gathering, candid shots from tour stops. The air smelled faintly of Felix's cologne, sweet and warm.

Hyunjin crossed to the bed and set Felix down carefully on the edge, his hands lingering at Felix's waist for a moment before pulling away. Felix's arms slipped from around his neck slowly, reluctantly, his hands trailing down Hyunjin's chest before falling to his lap.

He looked up at Hyunjin, eyes wide and dark in the dim light. Still dazed and flushed. But underneath that, there was something else now…. a flicker of uncertainty, maybe.

Was Felix afraid?

Hyunjin stepped back immediately, giving him space.

"If you don't want to have sex with me," Hyunjin said quietly, "I'll never force you, Felix."

Felix stopped breathing entirely for a second. "No, I-I know," he said quickly. "But I-"

He stopped for a second, swallowing. His hands twisted in the fabric of his sweatpants.

Hyunjin waited patiently for him to finish.

"I do want to," Felix said finally, voice barely above a whisper. He looked down at his hands. "I'm just… I don't understand."

Hyunjin tilted his head slightly. "What don't you understand?"

Felix's jaw worked for a moment, like he was trying to force the words out. When he finally spoke, his voice was small, confused.

"Why you want me."

This again? Didn't Hyunjin assure him enough?

He moved closer again, crouching down in front of Felix so they were at eye level, trying to appear less of a threat.

What can I do to make you trust me?

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, keeping his voice soft.

"Because you never liked me, Hyunjin," Felix whispered back. "I know you don't… I know you don't like people like me. You said that already. It can't be about just sex. You said that I… You meant that I'm yours, didn't you?"

Hyunjin smiled at him. "Yes."

Felix's breath caught. "But why? I don't understand why you would-"

"Because you chose me yourself, angel."

Felix stared at him, confusion flickering across his face. "That's not- I didn't-"

"You did," Hyunjin interrupted him, but not unkindly. "You needed someone and you chose me. So why wouldn't I take accountability?"

Felix seemed unsure what to say. But after a second, he whispered, "Even then, it's still my choice. I never asked you to take accountability. I don't even understand what you mean."

Hyunjin studied his face for a moment.

"I think you do," he replied. "Or would you rather be left alone?"

"I…" Felix swallowed. His gaze wandered away from Hyunjin, breaking eye contact. "But I know you don't like me… You don't even like having me around."

"Does that stop me from taking care of you?"

"I didn't ask you to take care of me."

"I know," Hyunjin replied. "But doesn't it feel nice? To not think for once?"

Felix's mouth closed, his gaze wandering back to him, staring at him like Hyunjin had just asked something immoral.

"I can manage myself, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin tried not to laugh. Manage yourself? Did Felix call this managing?

"You come to my room to sleep with me. You want me to be there when you eat. You seek me out yourself," he said, pronouncing every word slowly, clearly, so Felix could understand. "Doesn't that sound like you seeking help?"

Felix sucked a breath in. "That's different. That's not-"

"Oh, come on now." Hyunjin huffed, standing up. He looked down at him. "You want to belong to me. You're just a coward who can't say it to my face."

Felix stared at him silently, his expression twisting into hurt, but a second passed, and his eyes lowered to his lap, ashamed.

He couldn't even deny it.

It wasn’t like his body could lie anyway.

Hyunjin's mouth quirked into a smile. "If you are truly so capable, tell me to leave. You don't need me, do you?"

Felix's mouth set into a thin line. His shoulders hunched defensively.

Hyunjin waited for him to speak. Or do anything, really. But here Felix was, staring stubbornly at his lap, not saying anything.

He gave him another chance. "Come on, angel. I won't bother you anymore. You'll be free to do whatever you want. Just say the word."

Hyunjin watched Felix's hunched form, which was getting smaller and smaller with each passing second.

But Felix never spoke.

Coward.

Hyunjin smiled, taking a step back.

"When you feel brave enough, feel free to come to me," he said, his voice gentle. "See you later, Felix."

Felix's head snapped up. "But I-"

Hyunjin stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.