Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Chris is at the verge of a psychotic break.

He doesn't look like a person that’s nearly concerned to hide the fact, either. In fact, he probably looks like a weirdo right now, as he's stopped in the hallway boring holes at the notice board with his eyes and hoping that, perhaps, if he concentrates enough the entire thing will set on fire spontaneously, league bracket sheet included.

In an unexpected turn of events, KyungHee University (KHU) has surpassed Seoul’s National University (SNU) in the quarter-final round, placing them right against Yonsei for the semi-finals. That is, nothing more and nothing less, than Chris’ own team. God-fucking-dammit.

Now, Chris wouldn't consider himself a hateful person; he wouldn't even consider himself a vengative one. But he has his exceptions. How did KHU even manage to eliminate the most academically competitive, prestigious, famous university of the city? It's ridiculous! Students from SNU are utterly savage when it comes to success, Chris has experienced it very much in person, in freshman year, when he got tackled so hard that he had all four limbs off-ground for a couple seconds. The man who tackled him wasn't even that big, but he came at him like a hammer. It could be that Chris underestimated him for it or something, but that’s not the point. The point is that his team is against KHU for their next match, which is in… Chris looks at the date on his phone…. Three weeks! 

That's not too bad, at least Chris has time to mentally prepare himself to lose the one and a half years strike not seeing what's-his-face.

His beauty clinic should be able to sneak in an appointment for trimming his hair edges a little with his monthly hair removal visit. He can restock his skincare products today on his way to the dorms, too; and if all of that is a little bit petty, he doesn’t really care, he is on his prime. His body has bulked up just like he likes it, he has a spark in his step and he has moved on. He only has to show it to the world. The KHU team can bring it on, that way Chris and his team will surely be getting to the final without a struggle. 

As Chris eventually reaches acceptance, he decides he's gonna move from where he has been quickly going through the seven stages of grief in no particular order, in front of the  noticeboard of the student hall. His plan starts by proving he's above being affected. It's not that hard, or at least it shouldn't be. In one year and a half –twenty months, give or take, to be exact– Chris has genuinely rebuilt his life. 

He climbs the stairs two at a time, heading to the rugby club’s room to see if Jisung is hanging around and ask him if he wants to go out for coffee. Or beer, he wouldn't mind. That's right, he has friends he loves, his good grades prevail, the team is thriving with the new lineup… he has everything one could wish for.

Or, well, almost everything. He lacks just one thing that would be the perfect cherry on top of his proverbial cake. Unfortunately, it's not like that kind of thing can be bought or faked.

Chris abruptly stops mid-walk, and his mind asks him why not. Does he, by chance, owe the truth to him ? That ship sailed long ago and this time Chris is not going to be the fool. 

That's when the idea hits him, stupid and kind of reckless. And he knows it. But spite has taken root in his chest, and reason is rapidly fading, feeble against the possibility of tasting the sick pleasure of revenge.

Chris can already imagine the look of regret on that asshole's face as he watches what he gave up shine brightly before his eyes. Failure, shame… those things are side dishes on Chris' menu of plausible outcomes right now, and only the hunger for chaos jumps to the front stage of his mind and subdues them because, if everything goes well, if he manages to control the strings of his scheme, he could teach that jerk what's good. It's worth it. An excited tremor runs through Chris’ fingers all the way to the tips and, with a determination that is very characteristic of him when he wants to achieve something, he turns on his heels and marches towards the stairs once more,  forgetting about the club's room, his mind already racing with the next part of his ridiculous, spiteful little plan. 

Maybe this is not about acceptance, it's about justice and finally getting it served. 

He skips briskly down the steps, crossing the first floor like an arrow. He still can make it in time to the court.

He can't just show up to the match by himself and expect the lie to sink in only by playing lip service. No, in order for the ploy to work he needs someone else involved, someone who can play their part and be convincing enough to make it look and feel real . And Chris thinks he may know who his guy is. His mind flicks through a list of possible candidates before settling on him, but each one comes up short in their own way. His friends show up in his mind first –duh, they are his friends–, but they are either too close to him for the lie to be credible at all or too familiar with Chris’ baggage to indulge his pettiness without advising him against the choice or trying to stop him.

The go-to must be someone a little more distant, someone who wouldn’t mind the dubious morality of his idea and would just go along with it regardless of not having a personal stake in it. Possibly, the fact of getting a front-row seat to his petty revenge would be tempting enough.

Chris’s footsteps echo off the polished tiles of the calm student hall as he moves with purpose, his relentless march attracting a few judging stares. The rugby court is a good fifteen-minute walk away, and in perspective, three weeks –actually, two weeks and five days– before the match is suddenly not that long, so he feels like he’s losing precious time.  But the odds might be on his side, because as Chris nears the hall’s exit, calculating how fast he’d need to move to catch the tail end of the training session and mentally gearing up for a sprint across campus, a familiar splatter of bleached blonde at the corner of his eye catches his attention. 

Chris looks through the glass wall of the small cafeteria just to the right of the hallway, where a few students are clustered around tables having snacks between classes and, mostly, chatting away despite the ongoing ones. There, sitting in the middle of one of the busiest tables, is Chan’s target; although, it catches Chris off guard to find him here. It isn't like he would simply skip practice, especially with a big game coming up. But there he is, laughing with his friends, looking perfectly at ease, with no hint of stress or urgency. Chris really must have miscalculated the schedules of the cheerleading team.

He’s Matthew’s– Chris’s captain at the team, and a good buddy of his– younger brother. One can spot the family resemblance in their personalities easily, but only if they get past the physical part, where they are polar opposites. Where Matthew is all height and muscular bundles, this guy is much more delicate from the way his body is built to the dainty features of his pretty face, framed, on top of all, by a soft mane of shoulder-length hair.

He's wearing casual clothes now, a sweater and joggers, but he still has a hair tie with a blue and black ribbon around his wrist. 

He's been popular ever since he arrived last school year, shaking things up from the moment he stepped a feet on campus. His curated sense of style drew people in fast, and if that was already a breeding ground for gossip to flourish, he really kicked the ball of fame off when he had a fight with the sports department so they would let him use the uniform he liked, which was nothing less than the female cheerleaders’ tight blue dress with sparkles, white lines and transparencies. The rumors made rounds, so Chris doesn’t know exactly how he got away with his demands finally being accepted, but Yonsei is now in its second year of allowing its students to choose the option they feel more comfortable in when picking up their sports uniforms. Most people still stick to the classic choices, but Chris thinks it probably was about time to allow the freedom of choice. He has been seeing a couple more cheerleaders doing the change, a few female athletes wearing the half-thigh shorts instead of bum huggers, and even some people from his team switching to tighter shorts because they say it's more comfortable for when they run. He's tempted to try them himself, actually, but he hasn't gathered the entire courage yet. 

So, yeah, the guy is willing to push the lines of his self-expression, so that means he's bold; and he clearly has some nerve to give away. It's not a mystery why he has become such a magnet for attention. Some of said attention is negative, it was meant to happen, but his reputation is a jewel overall. He's energetic and cheerful, as far as Chris has been able to get from the few times they have interacted long enough to get past the exchange of cordial greetings, and the crowd loves him.

It must be in his nature, he is a cheerleader, after all. 

With the competitiveness ingrained so deep in the culture, many students tune in the passion for their sports teams and pay a lot of attention to cheer them on, and the cheerleaders only lift the mood higher. Some even do it for the cheerleaders themselves. They have that team spirit to drive them.

The cheerleading team attends all their matches and performs on them, so he is going to be there yes or yes, his presence not only not disentoning with the match but being expected.

He is perfect. Perfect for the plan Chris has brewed in his mind.

His heart rate picks up as he slows down and takes the turn to push inside the cafeteria. The warm scent of coffee and something being fried mixing in the air hits him straight on the nose, causing a little roar of his stomach that makes him realize he's hungry and he forgot to eat. But that can wait. He approaches the table, mostly occupied by other cheerleaders, both male and female, as their team is coed. Matthew's brother is sitting relaxed with his back to the window and hasn't noticed his presence yet, too busy having his turn in the conversation that occupies them.

It's only when Chris is right by the table that the group notes he wants something from them and they start to get quiet one by one and give him curious looks. A flash of recognition crosses the eyes of Matthew’s brother as they land on Chris, but he's no less surprised than the others, his smile frozen on an expression of cordial curiosity.

“Hey, Felix,” says Chris, hoping he has gotten his name right. Instantly, several heads turn to look at Matthew’s brother, so he supposes he has. Chris squares up his shoulders and has to clear his throat before he carries on. “How ‘ya doin'?”

The blondie gives him a quick once over.

“I'm fine…” he replies, tilting his head. “What can I help you with?”

“I just wanted to ask you… Can you spare me a couple minutes of your time?” 

There's an exchange of glances between him and his friends. Felix gives a small, nearly imperceptible shake of his head, his eyes darting toward the louder yappers that have started to comment and then back to Chris. It's a silent request, asking them to dial it back a notch, to stop the blatant staring at least until Chris leaves. 

“Listen, I did fall from a formation but I wasn't even at the top. I'm not hurt and I do not need another batch of seaweed soup, tell Matt to chill, because I'm fine.”

“No, no,” Chris clarifies with a laugh, his hands rising in front of his chest to give a more easy-going look. “It's not that, I didn't come as a messenger or something. I can tell him you're looking pretty good, if you want, though” 

“Oh, okay,” Felix pushes a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “So, what is it?”

“Actually, can I talk to you somewhere else? ‘S kind of personal.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, the print of curiosity saturating on his features. The stares of his friends are more amused than concerned when he glances over, and he shrugs eventually.

“Alright, whatever,” he says, standing up and stepping over the cheerleaders clustered on his way. “Let's talk outside?”

“Yeah, by the door will do.”

Chris notices the puzzled looks, the murmurs and the stifled giggles of the group. Just like most of their faces are familiar for Chris, they know him, too, the number eight on the rugby team which matches they have to sit through every time. At least this confirms his suspicion of getting the voice out being easy. That's good for Chris.

“Shut up, he's just my brother's friend,” he hears Felix whispering as he slaps one of his friends on the arm and chuckles.

As they walk a few paces away from the group, Chris can't help but feel the weight of the conversation growing between them. He has no idea of how he's going to suggest this without sounding like a sociopath, but he's committed to the bit and not willing to backtrack, so maybe he just needs to embrace the fact that, this one time, he's going to come off as unhinged and that's fine. It's a big world, and it's filled with all kinds of people. It takes all kinds to make a world. 

Felix stops where the glass wall of the cafeteria tampers into solid brick and rests his back on a vending machine filled with sweet snacks, so Chris does the same just in front of him, leaning on the wall with a shoulder. They are somewhat wedged in this little nook of the students hall where they can get a slight sense of privacy despite being in one of the busiest buildings of campus. Maybe because there's a lot of different people around, going on with their lives, it feels like they are a little less important than a few minutes ago.

“You have me in tenterhooks.” Felix finally says, holding a little grin on his lips. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Chris chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I need this one favor and I thought you'd be a good option.”

“You want to ask me for a favor? Okay… what’s the catch?”

Chris hesitates for a second, weighing how to phrase this. 

"Well, it’s a bit... unconventional," he starts slowly, his usual easy-going smile turning nervous. "But I need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend for a little while. You, if you're willing."

Felix blinks a couple of times, a little laugh escaping him afterwards in a mixture of shock and amusement. 

“What?” 

Chris frowns, discovering the warmth that's creeping on his face and the base of his neck. It feels more embarrassing than he expected, as this petite guy with a ribbon on his wrists has fun at his expense.

“Look, I know it can sound weird, but I swear I have a good reason.”

“Wait, you're for real with this?” Felix gawks at him. “Why do you even need that?” 

Chris bites his lip, a little hesitant. However, he has always been hot-blooded –for the good and for the worse– and his bitter resentment is heavier than anything else at the moment, a congestion in his veins that is not nearly close to dissolving just yet. 

“You know how we are playing the semi-final’s match against KHU in three weeks?” he asks. Felix nods slowly, narrowing his eyes as he tries to guess where Chris is trying to get at. “Well, my ex is on that team.”

“Your ex ?” Felix echoes, his grin widening on his face. “Okay, now this is getting interesting. Tell me about it. You ended on bad terms, uh?”

“Exactly. I hate that fucking asshole, and I haven't seen him since, so I need him to see how great my life is without him.”

“And you need to pretend that?”

“No,” says Chris, curtly. “But if I need to exaggerate it a little just to shove it up his ass, then fucking hell, I will. And I hope it stings. Bad.” 

Felix hums and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Okay, so, let's say I agree to play along… What would I have to do? Be all lovey-dovey with you for the upcoming three weeks? Tweet about how excited I am with my new boyfriend? All that jazz, yeah?” 

“I mean, yeah, things like that. Just pretend in front of people to build the act up so it's believable when we get to the day of the match.”

“Which, I suppose, we would be attending together and act like two chopsticks throughout the whole thing?.”

“Yeah, that'd be the most important part.”

“And when it's over?”

“Excuse me?”

“Once everything is over and you have gotten your revenge-thing, then what?” Felix asks. “Who is going to break up with who? Because I don't want you to go around saying you broke up with me, I have my pride.” 

Chris’s forehead creases. “Felix, are you playing with me?”

“A little bit,” he admits with an amused smirk. “But I'm also serious about not wanting to be the helpless loser that got dumped by Christopher Bang.”

“Oh, come on, if we say you left me, it undoes all the effects of this in the first place!”

“Too bad, then” he says, turning around to leave the nook by the cafeteria where they are hiding.

“Hold on,” Chris whines, grabbing a forearm and pushing Felix back where he started, against the vending machine. When he flips him over, he's met with a mischievous smile on Felix’s face. Chris has expected him to be a little less… more… innocent? Or something. He sighs, caving in a little. “I break up with you but you have all the freedom to curse me for being a jerk with you. What about that? It's fifty-fifty.”

“I still think you're winning.”

“I'll buy all your lunches for the entire three weeks.”

Felix pauses at that. What Chris just said is a generous offer for a college student, in fact, his pocket is slightly hurt already. The housing fees for dorms are crazy, even for the shittier ones, and the price for food inside campus abuses the fact that most people don't have time to go back and forth in order to have all their meals outside. 

“And you are the one who asked me out.” Felix demands, pointing an accusatory finger at Chris, who grins as he watches his plan coming together. 

“Sure. Right now, actually.”

“So we have been texting lately?”

“Probably.”

“Good, I don't want to humor the narrative of me being easy.”

Chan arches his eyebrows. He hasn't heard that one, but with how Felix has said it, he now wonders if it's because he's usually hanging out around Matthew, which surely minimizes the shit talk about Felix in his surroundings. No one trashes on a guy’s beloved younger brother in front of him, more so if the guy in question is 1,86 meters tall number twelve. 

“Okay, I hit you through Instagram DMs and we have been texting for a bit.”

“Have we hit first base?”

“What's the first base?” Chris ask, confused. 

“Kissing. Duh. Baseball is clearly not your sport.” 

“Of course we have hit first base, we are dating .”

“Dunno, you could be traditional.”

“I'm not.”

“I guesses that much, I just didn't assume.” 

“Hey,” Chris protest. Maybe he should be offended, but he hasn't decided it yet. “Are you helping me or not?”

Felix hmms, feigning thoughtfulness but clearly satisfied with the ground rules they just improvised. 

“I admit,” he starts, as he scans Chris with his eyes, from his head down to his legs and then up again. He chuckles. “That could be interesting. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Sure? I suggested this,” Chan says, matter-of-factly. “I don't care if I'm being petty, to be honest, I don't owe him being a good person.”

“Shit, you really hate the dude, what did he even do to you?” 

“He cheated on me.”

Chris' blunt, cold statement seems to take Felix by surprise, because his lips shut with a click and all trace of the playfulness he has been displaying so far is suddenly gone. In his disbelief, his lips pucker up as he speaks.

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” Chris says, pressing his lips on a line. His dimples pop on his cheeks. “Exactly as you heard it.”

Felix furrows his eyebrows. “Who would have said it, Christopher Bang getting cheated on…”

“You seriously need to stop using my full name.”  Chris chuckles. “It's like you're about to start scolding me for not eating my veggies.”

“That's what everyone in the cheering team calls you,” says Felix with a shrug. “My brother calls you Chan, I don't know why.”

“It's my korean name, most people who know me use it because it's easier to say.”

“I like Christopher.”

“Chris,” he bargains. He prefers it, anyways. 

“I like that. Okay, Chris,” he says, producing a bright smile as he reaches out a hand. “It's a deal.”

Chan scoffs, the situation a bit surrealistic, but internally, he is rubbing his hands like a fly because he's getting away with his plot. He shakes Felix's hand, shortly but firmly. 

“Deal. I'll see you soon, apparently.” He says, about to leave to continue what he was doing. Perhaps even attempt to take a bus to go eat something affordable before his funds are spent in three weeks of whatever Felix wants to eat. 

“Wait,” Felix says, making Chan spin on his heels one last time to see the younger man unpocketing his phone. “Shouldn’t I have my boyfriend’s number?”

_____

Chris is all messy curled hair, chewed fingernails and a pale face with faint dark circles under his eyes, as per usual. Even if he tries to hide it by putting effort on his clothes –at the moment a leather jacket over a white t-shirt and jeans– he is messy overall.

It's lucky that this first date of sorts it's all a play-pretend game because he's been surviving the day on three hours of sleep, one americano and two oreos.

"What have you done?" He asks as he finishes climbing up the steps of the bleachers to reach Felix's seat on the last row of the section. The blondie looks up from his phone and fixes his eyes on Chris. His eyes get so big and his lips so puffy they can only mean confusion when put together, so Chris clarifies. "Han Jisung asked me if we were dating this morning."

As he understands what Chris meant, Felix's expression shifts to a self-sufficient smile.

"Did you bring me my lunch?" 

Chris rolls his eyes and leaves the paper bag on the seat between him and Felix before he plops down too. 

"It's here, your highness." He says sarcastically. "I'm a man of my word."

Felix claps one time and makes a high-pitched, excited noise that Chris didn't expect him to be able to emit, considering how deep his voice usually is. 

"I earned this free lunchbox didn't I?" He asks, already unpacking his chopsticks. "How d' you like my job's results?" 

"As I said, I'm intrigued to know how you made it begin spreading already, it's been only two days and we haven't even been hanging out together.”

It's a pleasant day to have lunch outdoors. The cold of winter has not fully settled in yet at midday, leaving a mild freshness in the air that one can easily enjoy in their face while wearing a jacket to guard off getting too chilly in the rest of their body. That, if they can ignore having a cold butt from sitting on the frigid hard plastic of the rugby court's seats. 

Chris can ignore it right now because the cloud of steam that raises to his face when he opens his own lunchbox is warm and luscious. Felix was right when he insisted Chris pick the food in the restaurant he told him so they could eat it warm without a microwave around. His food choice is also pretty decent. Chris –who can be indecisive in restaurants so didn't bother checking the contents of all the lunchboxes this one offered and went with Felix's decision, ordering doubles– is met with the kind of lunchbox a mother would have packed for her children, only a little fancier. Which, he is happy for, considering the price he paid for them. There are meat dumplings instead of the more common sausage, fried rice with a fried egg on top and several sides. There's spicy radish salad, but Chris can just avoid that little corner of the box and eat everything else. 

He tries one dumpling and it's surprisingly good, juicy and seasoned. Before he can catch himself, he's wiggling and shaking his hands in a little happy dance as he chews the entire thing on his mouth. He clasps his hands quickly and looks away because he is in Felix’s direct line of vision.

There are a few other people having lunch scattered along the huge space of the bleachers, and another few that have already showed up in the field below to start their training early or just have time to nurture their social life with their teammates before they have to focus on the day's exercises. He recognizes Changbin sitting cross-legged on the floor with Chaeryong, and the great dramatics of their gestures suggests they are in one of their classic arguments. Besides them, more than one is looking back at Chris from the safety of distance. 

The place and time are not a coincidence, Chris already had an idea of what was happening when Felix texted him in the morning to propose the idea. And demand his food. 

“I think that, if many people want to believe a rumor, it's easy to make it pass as true.” Felix says nonchalantly as he smashes his egg and mixes it with his rice. Chan mirrors him, as it seems like a good idea. “Player and cheerleader couple? It's a classic, but it doesn't happen as often as we think before getting into college, right? It's a juicy rumor, I didn't have to do much.” 

“Well, yes, that's one reason why I chose you. But still, you have had to do something to start this and it's not like you have put up posters or something.”

“That would be a waste of paper, I'm committed to help the environment.” Chris scoffs and, for a moment, Felix's amusement can't be contained and slips out from the serious mask he's using to tease him. “I just set a picture of you as my lockscreen and left the phone side up on the desk during my classes. The rest is just people doing the maths and trying to see if they are right in their theories.” 

“And that's why we are here today, yeah? To fuel the fire.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, love the idea.”

“I think if we make our teams the epicenter of the rumor's explosion, everyone else has more chances of believing it when they hear it.”

“And when they start asking around, the answers will be coming from our friends and the people who know us better.”

Felix stops when he is about to put food in his mouth and looks up in thought. “Okay, I just thought this would be the most natural spot for us to start showing up together in public, but that too.”

He shoves rice in his mouth and Chris is impressed. He knew that choosing Felix would have several advantages. They aren't complete strangers, he is popular, the cliché of their roles benefits them and he even expected Felix to play along; but he didn't think he would take the job so seriously. He really must like these dumplings, thinks Chan, expecting the one he has picked with his chopsticks. Or he enjoys chaos that much. 

“Which picture are you using?”

“As my lockscreen?”

“Yeah. Can I see it?”

“Hhm, wait,” Felix leaves his utensils balanced on his lunchbox and takes out his phone, tapping only with his ring finger so as to not get grease on the screen. “This one. I got it from your insta.” 

He turns the phone so Chris can see the picture of himself that has lighted up on the screen of his phone. It's one he –or rather, Jeongin, his roommate– took not too long ago, in front of a hamburger restaurant where they had dinner with some friends that night. It’s not bad. Chris wouldn't have posted a really bad one, and Jeongin had a good sense of fashion to make him look cool in his shots, but it has nothing special. It was a candid shot, one where Chris had been laughing at something someone had said, his expression scrunched up in a mixture of amusement and pure tipsy joy. Precisely because they had been drinking, the tip of his nose is reddish –more evidently so in the zoomed version made to fit the lockscreen format– and it's somewhat blurry. Chris didn't post it at the front of the carousel, but still... it's not horrible.

Felix, on the other hand, has made it his lockscreen.

He nods with his mouth full and a frown, pointing with his chopsticks to try to express himself with the least amount of words possible. 

"Why that one?" 

“You look boyfriend."

Chan swallows wrong and a bit of his food goes down the other pipe, making him cough once. He looks boyfriend? He doubts it, Felix must have said it so he stops asking questions because, in the picture, he looks pretty much as he does now, messy and not quite polished enough to look put-together. He doesn't think he is ugly, but he doesn’t exactly scream “charming” or “dreamy” in a way he thinks a boyfriend should. If he did, he wouldn’t have to be pretending a relationship.

“If you say so...” he says, playing down the comment as his eyes lower to his food. He doesn't feel like dwelling on the topic too much, but there is a tightness in his chest now that wasn't there before. “Either way I'm surprised at how quick it worked. And how effective it was if Jisung asked me, of all people. He's not too nosy, but more than anything, he’s never the first to catch up on things.” He pauses for a moment, gesturing vaguely with his chopsticks as he tries to explain between bites. “I love the guy, but he's kind of a social disaster.”

“I think Hyunjin is into him, though” Felix says through a mouthful of rice, egg and spinach. Chris blinks, not expecting the sudden revelation. “He probably used the excuse of asking Jisung if he knew something just to have the opportunity of talking to him.”

Chris shakes his head, invisible equations spinning around it. If he remembers correctly, Hyunjin is the tall, pretty-faced guy from the cheering team and he seems very different to what Jisung is as an entire concept.

“Which means, by the way, that Hyunjin has been hearing voices and he is gonna run me through the third grade when he sees me,” Felix continues, making a pause from his lunch to gesture around. “So, did you tell Jisung the truth or the lie?”

“The lie.”

“Really?” Felix asks, eyebrows lifting. His lips are stained with the sauce of the spinach, making the light hit them just right for a moment where the sharp dip of his cupid's bow is accentuated. Chris’s attention lingers on the peculiar allure of the shape until he presses a napkin to his mouth and continues talking. “And what did he say?”

“He congratulated me for pulling a baddie.”

“Nah, Han Jisung didn't say that, did he?”

“No, he didn't. He said it was ‘fucking rad, dude’ and then, his ADHD hit him like a bat so he asked me a very tangential, inappropriate question about your underwear.” Felix quirks a skeptical eyebrow, and Chan waves his hand dismissively. “I told him I didn't know and that we were only in base one.”

Felix snickers and takes another bite of his lunch. “Alright… good one, that part is almost true.”

“I studied my role. Besides, what kind of boyfriend would be having a conversation with his friend about his boyfriend's underwear?”

“Why not?” Felix quips. “I mean, it depends on the context but I don't think it should be a problem. Not necessarily. Maybe you are a bit traditional after all.”

“I'm not traditional, I just think your underwear should be my business only.” He says, nonchalantly at first. Then, he thinks better and adds. “Hypothetically speaking.”

“Ah, you are that type…”

“What type?”

“Possessive.” His eyes deliberately move all over Chris as if they’re trying to read every detail of him. Felix smiles for himself. “Good to know.”

“I'm not possessive. More like greedy.” Chris says with a simple shrug.

“Ain't that the same?”

“No, I wouldn't get mad at you for showing skin or like, I don't know, talking about sex. It's just that, when I want something, I want it all.”

Felix hums with a softened tune. “So what would you do when someone else tries to have that thing?”

“Ah, no, none of that,” Chris meets Felix's eyes. “What's mine is mine. Don't hang yourself from someone else's arm in these three weeks, it's a hard no. If you get caught it will turn this entire thing around.” He sighs. “I have had enough humiliation.”

“Three weeks without having to fight off bad decisions on Tinder? I think I'll survive.” he jokes, picking at his food. “But why did you lie to Han Jisung, though? He is your friend.”

“He would tell me I'm doing something stupid and that I'm thinking too much of my ex.”

Felix hums, and then he is eating his last dumpling, making Chris think he is not going to say anything else. However, when he is done chewing and swallowing, he lifts his eyes to stare straight at him, his expression changing into something more serious. 

“And you aren't?” 

Chris stops chewing, his eyebrows knitting at their own accord. He swallows way before he should, the rice almost clogging his throat as it fights to go down. 

“Not in a positive way.”

“That's evident,” Felix says, almost petulant. Chris supposes it may be his method of defense in the sudden tense mood. “But ain't this a whole lot of attention directed at him and what he thinks?” 

“I don’t want to get back together,” Chan says. Something in his jaw ticks, a muscle. He is not mad at Felix, but he is mad… in general, everytime he thinks about him . “I want him to regret what he did. And I wish that it happened to people like him more often, because if they don’t get life to turn back and bite their ass, they will keep doing it and we’ll never get rid of it.”

Felix sighs, looking down at his plate and shaking his head. 

“It’s okay,” he says, at last. “I’m not here to chastise you.”

“You are here for the free meals,” he jokes, hoping Felix notices his sour mood is not meant for him. The guy doesn’t deserve that, and he’s helping Chris even when he doesn’t have to, so when the corners of his lips curl up, Chris feels himself relax a bit more.

“The free meals are a good incentive, yes.”

Chan points at the food left on his plate with his chopsticks. "Do you want my radish salad?"

"Uh? No, no, thanks, I’m good. And I don't really like spicy food."

"You don't?” Chris cocks his head. “Then why did you order this box?"

"Ah, I just really love the dumplings that much," he says with a deep laugh. "The other ones don't have them so I order this one and leave the radish portion, so you can eat it, don't worry."

"I can't stand spicy." 

Both of them pause to look at each other with surprise, bursting into laughter as they realize the strange coincidence.

"And why did you get this one!?"

"I just ordered the same as you! To be honest, I was curious and needed to experience what an 8K lunchbox tastes like."

"8K is not that much for lunch." Felix counters.

"It's more than convenience store ramen."

"You're a rugby player, you can't convince me you live off instant ramen cups." Felix says, side-eying him. "Where's your protein?" 

Chan lifts his hands in humorous surrender. 

"Okay, guilty. I have buffet tray menus for lunch almost every day" he says with a big grin, as he watches how easily Felix smiles again like the cat who got the cream. "Still, buffet menus are 5.5K where I eat, and they come with dessert."

"I gotchu on that," As he says so, Felix turns around and starts to rummage through a generously-sized, beige puffer bag until he turns back around with a glass container. "I made banana oatmeal cookies and I brought some."

"You made them?" The cookies look really good, so he doesn't hesitate to get one when Felix opens the container and offers them to him. "How did you bake them? Is your dorm single?"

"No, I'm not that loaded, don't let my 8K meal fool you. Hyunjin is living off campus, so he has a decent kitchen in his department that I borrow sometimes." 

Chris bites one of the cookies and it's genuinely tasty. The chocolate is soft and melts on his tongue, heartwarming. Felix is a kind little dude, even if his sense of humor tends to border on the mischievous side. He has this air about him that’s like an uncommon concoction of playful and warm. He reminds Chris of a kitten that doesn't mean harm if he uses his claws to climb up your leg and see what you're up to on the counter. 

“So you're close with Hyunjin, then?” 

“Yeah, we are the same age and got into the team at the same time, so it was easy to get along with him from the beginning, which means that, if he has heart about this,” he says, pointing between him and Chris, respectively. “And we can assume he does because he asked Han Jisung, he is gonna give me the third degree when he sees me.” 

“And are you gonna tell him the truth or the lie?” he taunts, pursing his lips in a poorly contained smile.

“Y'know? I think I'll tell him the lie.” 

“Yeah, how come?”

“It’s funnier.” Felix says, grinning. “I'll get to brag a little.”

Chris snorts. 

“Okay, whatever floats your boat, he is your friend.” 

Felix opens his mouth to say something, but before he can speak, he gets interrupted by a loud voice that is heard from the field under them.

“Hey, Bang Chan!!” Matthew screams. He is standing in front of the bleachers with an oval in his hands and wearing a tank top that doesn't fit the weather but is a reminder of how huge the man is. “Since when are you two so close!?”

“Oh, fffuck,” Chris says, elongating the first letter of the word for emphasis. He chuckles awkwardly. “Are we gonna tell him the truth or–”

“The lie,” Felix says quickly. “He’ll sit us both down to give us a speech if we tell him the truth.”

Chris gives Felix an alarmed look. 

“Wait! He's gonna kill me when I break-up with you. You need to tell him the truth then.”

“But why? You insisted you wanted to be the one who breaks-up the relationship,” Felix says, giving Chris an exaggeratedly sympathetic look and patting his thigh. “I'm also keeping my word and letting you be the bad guy.”

Chris rolls his eyes but laughs, clearly resigned to the situation.

“You're a menace.”

Felix stands up from the bleachers, brushing invisible dust off his jeans and offering a playful wink to Chris before turning to face his big brother, who’s still looking up at them with a raised eyebrow, clearly awaiting some kind of explanation. 

“Mind your business!!” he calls down, cupping a hand to his mouth to project the sound. 

Chris groans in the background. Matthew is not the kind of guy to be overprotective or strict over his brother, but Chris can easily picture him drawing the line at someone stomping over his heart. He is not even going to do it for real, so it would be a double nuisance to get punched in the face for this. Ain't those the consequences of his acts coming at him… well, the ball is in play already, it's useless to look back. He'll figure something out. 

Felix skips down the stairs to get down from the bleachers, pausing briefly before calling back to Chris, “See ‘ya… Yeah?”

“Of course, we'll be in contact and figure out a good progression for the play. Thanks for the food, though.”

“Chris, you paid for it.” Felix says. His eyes crinkle when he smiles, showing a shiny line of pointy teeth. 

“Ah, yeah, it's true,” he laughs, awkwardly. 

“You're…” Felix pauses, trying to find a word that he doesn't look so sure about wanting to say as his smile drops. He tilts his head to the side. “You're a goof.”

“I thought you were gonna brag about me.”

Felix rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, I'll leave you to your training session, the ruggers are coming. Good luck telling my brother I was your booty call.”

With that, Felix waves once more to Chris, his steps casual as he walks down the stairs. 

“That's not what I'd tell him!” Chris shouts. “We share a deep connection!” 

Felix doesn't even slow down, his voice coming from over his shoulder. 

“Do we?”

Chris stares at the blonde, caught off guard by the sudden question. He scrambles for a response that he doesn't find in him before Felix gets on the grass, waving at anybody and everybody, even the ones whose way of looking at him is not that light. He crosses a few words with his brother and then he disappears into the immensity of the campus. 

Chris sighs, standing in the bleachers with a mix of amusement and frustration. 

"What a fucking guy.”

_____

The request that Felix makes on Friday is not wild or hard to foresee, the start of the weekend always means off-campus life unless you're a hermit or broke beyond salvation. It forces Chris to walk all the way between his class building and Felix's, which is on the opposite side of campus, but it’s not like he doesn't walk to that district every other day so he doesn't really mind. 

Felix is in Child and Family studies, a course whose very existence Chris has discovered only recently. He can’t deny that there’s something about Felix that makes him easy to talk to, so their text conversations are getting less awkward to tackle than they were at first. That's why he found out what he was studying, and also why he wasn't really surprised when Felix explained it was focused on securing the wellbeing of people, families and children. Honestly, despite possessing the sense of humor –and demeanor– of a pixie, he looks like the sort of person who would give you the last bite of dessert even if he was starving. Maybe that's what landed him making progress on the uniform policies, Chris thinks. Those two things combined. He tells himself that at least Felix is using his natural gifts for the betterment of the world, a very laudable decision considering how many times in the last four days he has mentally called Felix a little terror.

The thing is, the building where Felix takes classes is conveniently near the sports court, adding only a few extra fifteen minutes of walking over a route he could do with his eyes closed, at this point. 

It's funny how he keeps finding ways in which choosing Felix is convenient. The universe is handing Chris this revenge on a platter.

If that wasn’t enough, Felix deserves an acting award of some kind, too. 

Because of the long way from his class, he finds Felix has already clocked out when he arrives. He’s basking on the last scraps of warm sunlight that autumn has to offer, looking delicate in his powder blue cardigan as he sits on one of the large grass patches in front of the building with a dozen other people. They are making a circle and Chris would swear that– yeah, they are playing Jungle Speed. In his opinion, that game is more dangerous and full of bullshitery than rugby will ever be, but is hilarious. Curiously enough, Changbin is in the circle arguing with half of the presents about a rule that's about to force him to grab a handful of cards. 

He is not the only familiar face Chris can see. There’s also Hyunjin, Minho and the other guy who hosts the newscast of the campus radio with him, Chaeryong, Lily, the newest addition to the cheerliding team whose name –Shota– has made rounds, and a handful of other cheerleaders that Chris saw the other day at the cafeteria… all certified yappers in their own way. This time he doubts it's more than a coincidence, but social butterflies may attract each other. Chris wouldn’t know, he is a lone wolf. 

With the way Felix's face lights up when he catches the glimpse of him approaching, Chris is almost driven to believe that the cheerleader might feel the same he does: utter disrespect for his ex. He waves at him, and Felix waves back, pulling the attention of Hyunjin by his side who watches Chris like a hawk. 

He's not stupid, he can guess the type of thing that he whispers over Felix's ear with a smirk and earns him a shove of his shoulder. 

“Shut up,” He hears Felix say between giggles. He pushes hair behind his ear. “I don't know, we're going slow.”

“Really?” Hyunjin asks with unconcealed disbelief. “ You?”

“Yes, shut up.” He repeats. His lower back curves, body straightening up to gesture at Chris. “Hey Chris, come!”

Hyunjin opens his mouth and Felix slaps a hand over it before anything comes out from him, causing his eyes to bulge and a high-pitched laugh to come out muffled from under Felix's hand.

"Hello. Honey. " Chris says adds the pet name at the last second, for good measure, and watches Felix's lips curl in a smile that he could catalog as smug. “I'm sorry, I'm a bit late.”

“It's okay. You walked all the way?”

“The bus line was packed.”

“Yeah, it happens. I figured you were caught in the rush hour traffic or something.”

“Hey, Chan,” Changbin says from the other side of the circle, waving the wooden piece of the game. “You wanna join us?”

“Hey, Changbin, mate. Thank you but I can't right now.”

“We have planned to go to a cafe,” Felix explains casually. “Chris said he's paying.”

Chris can't help a roll of his eyes. He offers a hand to Felix.

“Okay, I give up, I'll be paying. Let's go.”

“Yaaah!!” Changbin says loudly as he watches Chan pull Felix up from the grass. “What's going on? Are you two really dating?”

“Nah, we are pretending.” Chris says, in a way that makes it sound like funny sarcasm. Felix plays into it.

“You are? Damn, that sucks, I'm kinda interested.”

“Too bad…”

“Come on!” Changbin says, louder this time.“When did this happen? How!?”

“Instagram DMs.”

“He hit my DMs on insta.”

Felix and Chris reply in unison, making it almost sound rehearsed. Although they haven't planned that one. 

“Oh, they already talk at the same time... It's disgusting.” Minho says with a sneer and a fake monotonous tone. Hyunjin laughs at his joke but Felix pretends he hasn't heard a thing. 

He links his arm with Chris and it's weird to have him cuddled up to him so closely. From the color of their hair –Felix’s blonde is so thoroughly bleached it should be way more fried than it is– to their clothes they look opposites. The fuzzy pastel blue cardigan contrasts starkly with Chris's black beanie, all-black version of Yonsei's varsity jacket pulled over a black tshirt and the baggy bermuda jorts. They are like… an eclipse. 

“Okay, everyone, see you later.” Felix waves goodbye to his team mates cheerfully.

“We have rehearsals next Monday,” Hyunjin says loudly, making himself audible. “We are starting to practice the full halftime performance.”

“I know.”

“I know you know, I'm talking to Bang Chan.” Hyunjin replies casually. “You should come to see it one time.”

“Me? Well,” Chris looks over at Felix, unsure of whether he should give an answer without his counting with some sort of confirmation from him. Felix could feel uncomfortable with his presence, awkward because of the precariousness of their relationship under the pretty surface. “I could drop by and take a peek.”

Felix glances up at Chris, the smile on his face still bright, but there's a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. 

“Yeah, you can come if you want,” Felix says, his voice a little too casual, like he's trying to make everything sound normal. His grip tightens slightly on Chris's arm, as if he's expecting a potential correction. "No pressure, I just– it would be nice to have you there.”

Hyunjin smirks at the exchange. 

"Come on, Bang Chan, don't play hard to get." he says, teasing, but if Chris lets himself overthink, he might say there's something almost protective in his tone.

“Yeah, no, I’ll be there. I always miss the performance while I'm playing so I better see it when I have the chance, right?"

Felix beams at him, and for a second, the awkwardness between them seems to evaporate, replaced by the simple warmth of relief, having braved this moment of improvised acting successfully.

“Okay, then I'll see you there,” Hyunjin says, finally waving goodbye. “Don't let Felix fleece you, he has an expensive taste.”

“I'm aware.” Chris scoffs without thinking, earning an elbow to his side. “Ow! Hey!”

“Let's go.” Felix chuckles, pulling from Chris towards the pedestrian walkway that crosses the campus. If they are lucky they’ll get to the bus stop past the rush hour and have a calm trip to Hongdae.

The neighborhood fills up with college students every weekend. It's filled with cafes, galleries, boutiques, everything you can think of in the service sector really. 

When Felix texted Chris asking if he'd pick him up after class, he told him to choose the place so he wouldn't have to complain about the price later. It was obviously something he said to piss him off, but Chris has taken it upon himself to find a perfect place to take Felix to just so he has to eat his words and be actually grateful. By now he should have learned to expect Chris would act a bit too vindictive sometimes. 

" Honey ?" Felix asks, amused, as soon as they have walked enough to be off hearing range. "I thought you'd be a "baby" kind of person."

Chris snorts at the random supposition. 

"I mean, both?" He laughs. "Honey is for greeting and like, I don't know, compliments? Baby is to address you, call you over... those things."

"My, you have a pet name theory? You're a hazard."

"A hazard?" Chris asks with a frown. 

"A man that has that kind of thing planned out so well in his mind is bad news, the kind to make you cry over him."

"Where did you get that from?" 

"It's common knowledge."

"Is it?" Chris asks with skepticism before Felix can continue his explanation. 

"If a boy has stopped to think what pet names are better for each occasion, that means he's been thinking how to improve the success rate on their attempts to pull people," Felix says, so matter-of-factly he almost makes it pass as serious talk. "In other words, that he is a player."

"I think everyone would like to be successful in their attempts to pull," he counters playfully.

"Yeah but to develop a theory you need a lot of trial, regular practice, you know?" 

"You have theories to determine which boys are bad, though?"

"I have to have 'em," Felix says with a smirk that lasts only until he purposefully rounds his eyes and purses his lips. "Boys try to be bad to me on the daily."

"Yeah?" Chan asks, kind of intrigued. Felix nods, still batting his eyelashes.

"Try to be this pretty and wear skirts and ribbons around campus," He says, flicking his hair dramatically. "If you did, you'll see how quickly men sulk and get angry every time they sporadically remember they're more bothered about my dick than they swore when they were tryna hit." 

"What's wrong with your dick?"

Felix emits a clear and loud laugh. That's good, Chris thinks, they should be seen having fun together. He is sure the guys they left back on the grass are still looking and talking, and they are not the only ones. In this part of campus many people knows them for one reason or another. 

"It's there.” Felix replies. “It exists."

"So what?"

"You don't get it because you are gay, but–"

"I'm bisexual." Chan corrects, earning a once over from the blonde that makes it look like he's scanning Chris to find the "bisexual traits" in him. He must find something, because he gives a pleased nod before he shakes his hands in dismissal.

"Okay, but still, you're under the gay umbrella. You are queer."

"And?"

"They are not."

"They are, if they want to be with you, your dick is irrelevant in this."

"Well, they like to pretend they aren't." Felix states, with a little shrug. Chris thinks that's not very nice but Felix seems completely unbothered by it, so he chooses not to comment on it. 

"Should we hold hands?"

Felix looks at Chan with a gaze that is quizzical for him, as he doesn't know him too well to take guesses. 

"I can do that. Do you want to?"

Chan shrugs. 

"It'd be good if we held hands. Couples hold hands when they walk together, right?"

"Do you usually walk hand in hand with your partners?" Felix nonchalantly counters the question with one of his own. 

Chan tries to summon his memories of his past relationship, yet he doesn't remember exactly if he had walked with his ex hand in hand. It seems like a bit too sweet, and while Chris has had it proven that he can be awfully mellow on accident when he's in love, he knows it’s definitely not for everybody. He is just too much, someone that requires patience and a spoonful of intention from a partner so they don't get overwhelmed by how sticky he is. 

But his goal right now is turning himself and Felix the campus' beloved lovebirds, so maybe a little bit of exaggerating and media play would do no harm. Felix would not blame him for playing the role they have agreed upon. 

He nods, making up his mind.

"Yeah, yeah. Give me your hand like this," he says, simply grabbing Felix's hand as they walk. "Gotta make it natural."

Felix just hums, lacing his short fingers with Chan's. For a moment, he looks down to see his hand engulfed by Chan's bigger, veinier one, the thick silver bracelet he always wears warm against the inner part of Felix's wrist. Then, he remembers the part where he is supposed to look natural and lifts his chin.

"You have big hands."

"Or you have small ones."

"Maybe."

It's awkward, notoriously awkward. Their hands are stiff, but none of them pull away, like they’re both trying to convince themselves to overlook the intimacy of the whole thing or how neither of them know how to make it feel normal.

The silence stretches between them as they walk, keeping their eyes looking forward. It's a thick one, and it's a bit suffocating. Chris should probably try to say something—do something— to make this feel less awkward. His thumb brushes against the back of Felix's hand involuntarily, and he freezes. Okay, maybe not that .

"I thought you wouldn't..." Felix’s voice tightens, trailing off as the sentence is left hanging in the air unresolved.

"Say it," Chris prompts after a moment waiting for the resolution. Anything to break the awkward silence. 

Felix hesitates, his eyes flicking to Chris before he finally lets out a quiet laugh. "I never thought you would be shy."

"I'm not shy..."

Chris almost jumps when Felix touches the shell of his ear, catching him completely off guard. Felix's fingers tighten just a little around his, as if to make sure he doesn’t pull away if he's misled by his comment.

"You blush with your ears."

"I'm only a little shy," he corrects. The denial sounds childish, making him chuckle and rub the back of his neck. "How did you think I would be?" 

“Uh?”

“You just said you thought I wouldn't be as shy; sounds like you had some assumptions about me. How did you think I would be?”

"Not gonna answer that."

Chris arches a single eyebrow.

“That only makes me more curious.”

“Remain curious this time, yeah?”

“Why? Come on, it can't be that bad, right? Or is it?” Chris's squeaky giggle makes Felix give him a fidgety glance from the corner of his eye. “There's also that pet name theory of yours. You thought I was a bad man, uh?”

"A fuckboy." Felix replies, not looking at him now but at the floor.

"A fuckboy?" Chris repeats, almost offended and yet a little proud at the same time. "Me? Why did you think that?"

"I don't know, maybe it's the way you dress… how you walk… it's just something there giving fuckboy."

"Oh, so you're judging me through stereotypes." He says, smug, finally relaxing enough to let their hands fall into something less strained. 

Felix doesn't respond immediately, keeping his gaze down and tracing the cracks in the sidewalk as they approach the bus stop. The usual bustle of the rush hour has quieted down and they are walking together in a calm rhythm. 

“No, it’s just…” Felix begins, kind of flustered. “It’s that laid-back thing that you have going on, it's deceiving.”

“Oh, alright… but let me get it straight, you have now decided that you were wrong?”

“I don’t know. Let’s say that I’m still assessing the answer.”

They reach the bus stop and Chris leans back against the bus shelter, his hand still wrapping Felix’s one and inevitably pulling him in to stand in front of him.  The awkwardness is still there, hovering between them, but it’s less tense now. Chris tilts his head, watching the cheerleader with a mix of curiosity and the satisfaction of giving him a taste of his own medicine. 

“I may disappoint you, but I’m not that interesting.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that, if you don’t mind.”

Chris rolls his eyes, feeling the corner of his mouth twitch in a smile he doesn’t want to fully give into, the thought of Felix actively looking for something interesting in him seeming almost funny and a bit uneasy. He finally lets go of Felix’s hand, considering that enough people have seen them walk hand in hand through the main street of campus and that the few students waiting under the bus shelter with them have gotten the memo from the way they have arrived and the position the are in now, even when their fingers are no longer intertwined. 

Chris can feel the weight of their eyes like a spotlight on him like an odd company providing him a mixture of feelings that may not be found together often. On one hand, the satisfaction of his idea marching on successfully, on the other, the knowledge of how all this attention stems from something fake making his nerves shimmer. It's something low-key, quiet and small under his skin but steady. 

The bus arrives with a screech and they climb aboard behind all the people that had been there before them. Their walk towards an empty seat –of which there are enough in this turn– is followed by some curious eyes, but there are no familiar faces behind them and the tension settled between Chris’ vertebrae finally eases out completely. Everyone is quiet or talking in the polite tone one should maintain in public transport, making the place humm with a low murmur.

“Window or aisle?” he asks over his shoulder. 

“You don't mind?”

“Not really, lacking leg room is not a problem I face often.”

Felix laughs at the sudden joke Chris makes at his own expense, slipping easily between the seats Chris has settled for and is leaning on. 

“I'll get the window seat, then.” He says as he flops down in place, giving a casual smile at him before pulling his phone from his pocket. I'm gonna post an insta story.”

Chris sits down just in time, almost stumbling back onto the seat as the bus purrs back into life and begins its slow crawl out of the campus.

“Hmm?”

“Don't be a boomer,” he says, pointing his camera out of the window to get the seats in front of them at the corner of the shot and the landscape outside through the windows, the bus still not moving fast enough to blur it. “I have to post some hints that I'm going through some severe infatuation.”

Chris blinks. “I'm– what? I'm only three years older than you! I definitely know how to post stories on my instagram and– Actually… Now that you mention it, I should be the one who posts this, not you. Let me do it, I'll reach the target audience faster.”

“You have a point there.” Felix admits, lowering his phone and squeezing himself against the backrest to let Chris shoot a picture similar to the one he had taken. “What are you gonna write on it? Don't be too obvious yet.”

“A heart emoji?”

“Okay, be more obvious, that's gonna look like you love cozy bus rides.”

“One-four-three?”

“What's that?”

“I love you.”

“What?” Felix asks, lifting his gaze from the phone to look at Chris with a puzzled expression.

“One-four-three means I love you because of the number of letters in each word of the sentence, it's texting slang because I am not a boomer.”

“Ah… Okay, whatever you say, it's complicated.”

“You're right, my ex probably doesn't have enough brain cells to decipher that. I'm gonna use a song with the lyrics thing rolling out, everyone knows those are digs.”

It takes Chris a moment to figure out a song to use, his brain coming with absolutely nothing to represent the feelings he is supposed to have. One thing about Chris, though, is he is a music lover, digging in every other genre as a way to balance out his atrophied skill of using words when it comes to expressing himself. He swipes the bar on the screen, adjusting the fragment of the song to  fit the time of the story with the perfect lyrics.

Angel, oh oh oh

Knew you were special from the moment I saw you 

I saw you, yeah

I said angel, oh oh oh

I feel you're closer every time I call you 

I call you

“The Weeknd? Sweet Jesus, you really are a red flag,” Felix says with a chuckle, falling back onto the seat with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I'm sorry but I think my boyfriend deserves better than Taylor Swift verses, if just for the originality.”

“Listening to Taylor Swift would be the hint of you being down bad itself,” he jokes. “I'll get by with The Weeknd… for now.”

Chris puffs out some air, like a soft laugh, and posts his story for the whole world to see. In his opinion, referring to someone as an angel is more intense and downright bad than any songs from Midnights, but he leaves the argument to die so they can enjoy the rest of the bus ride immersed in a comfortable silence. 

They exit the limits of the campus and the city begins to unfurl around them instead; buildings, people and traffic flowing past the bus windows in a blur. Chris lets himself space out, entertained with the stories of other people in his phone –if he opened the app, he might as well lurk what's up in other people's lives and what are they saying– and the muted tune of the radio playing in the background. It takes some patience to travel by bus in Seoul, the traffic congestion gets even worse than it normally is when it comes to trendy neighborhoods on the weekend. If Jisung was here he would be asking “where the fuck is all these people going, anyways”, perhaps even getting a bit overwhelmed and shoving his earplugs in. 

Chris glances back at Felix to check on him and watches him absently sliding the window open. The wind immediately catches his hair, tousling it back in soft waves, sweeping along with the movement of the bustling city as he is prompted up on his elbow. Chris feels a twinge of… envy. Felix seems to ever be so at ease with the world, as if his peace is the product of the actual enjoyment of his surroundings and not mere detachment. Chris would like to be able to feel that same warmth, let go more and exist as effortlessly as Felix always seems to do. For a brief second he is tempted to ask him how he does that, but he doesn't want to disturb him so he snaps a picture of the moment in case he needs a more on-the-face post in the near future, and spends the rest of the ride in his own mind. 

The streets are bustling when they get there, but it's still more walkable than it'll be when the clubbing scene starts to open its doors for uni students, tourists and the unattached; so it's entertaining. Felix starts babbling when they walk in front of the Genshin Impact cafe, as it seems he is more than a little bit into the game, from how long he can go on about it. Chris is not sure of what being AR 56 means –he will have to Google it later– but it sounds complicated so he assumes Felix is being serious when he says he's throwing time and paper into the game in question. 

“I would like to go but it needs a reservation for time slots, even if it's empty. It’s a hassle, and a bit unfair. Summarizing, I haven't visited yet.” 

“If I had known you were a massive nerd I could have tried to book it,” Chris says, pushing the door of the actual cafe he has prepared for today and letting Felix come in first. “But jokes on me, this is where we are.”

Felix looks around the establishment, the walls painted cream and pastel pink, and dried flowers on the frames of small mirrors decorating the place. There are plants at the center, with pink cushions on the bench that surround them and even pink flamingo plushies to go along with it. Chris has mostly chosen it because he wants to try their speciality, the soufflé pancakes, but he is now thinking that he might have been swayed by how well Felix fits in here, with his blue cardigan and his blonde hair. 

He cringes at himself as he realizes how biased –stereotyped– his thought process has been.

“If you prefer–”

“Hey, this is so cute!” Felix beams. “I love soufflé pancakes! They are hard to make at home, you know?”

“Uh… no?” He replies, very intelligently. “I think I'd suck attempting normal pancakes, so I'm not a good yardstick for dessert-making difficulty.” 

Felix happily picks the table he sees more fit and cuddles up on the bench, taking a flamingo on his lap to hold onto. Chris supposes some assumptions have a solid  base to be made. 

“Well, yeah, you have to make a meringue first and incorporate it into the batter which is a pain in the ass because you have to fold it in slowly. And cooking them? It takes a lot of time and it's so easy to fuck up, I swear. I'm good at baking but bad at cooking and a pan is in a very thin line between those two things.” 

“Isn't baking harder than cooking?” Chris inquiries. “You have to measure everything well for it to be actually edible, and there’s like, a hundred techniques. You lost me at “fold it in””

“It's a fancy word to say you have to mix things while keeping as much of the air in the mixture as possible.”

“You are not being convincing.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Felix admits with a light giggle. “But I swear it sounds worse than it is. Then you pop that shit into the oven and it cooks itself, you know? No flipping, no stirring… just wait until the oven rings and you have a cake. And you can eat it, which is the best part.”

“You are sweet-toothed, aren't you?” 

“What gave me away?” he asks rhetorically, but Chris answers anyway.

“I don't know, maybe the fact that you learned all of that before you learned how to fry an egg.”

“I'd like to see you try,” he comments off-handedly as he runs his eyes through the menu. “I want the pancakes with banana and chocolate ice-cream and one iced tea, peachy.” 

“You gonna eat all that?” 

“Bet,” Felix says without flinching. “And I'm not sharing so get your own plate.”

“And you're the one I called angel…” Chris sighs, getting up to order their food and drinks that, with all being said, raises to a price of 25.5K won. 

At least the panckakes are fucking good once he digs in. This time, his happy wiggling –it's a habit he can't fully subdue despite his tries and some chastising from family and teachers– goes unnoticed by Felix, who’s busy taking a fancy picture of his food. A video, even.

“Posting more hints?” Chris asks him.

“Nope, just celebrating the plate of paradise I'm about to eat.”

Chris can't argue with that. For a while they keep eating their fantastic pancakes and even if he said he wouldn't, Felix encourages Chris to try the combination of pancake, chocolate ice cream and flambé banana. If this was a date, a real date, he might have felt the lightest flush creeping up his neck, the awkward flutter of his heart speeding up in his chest. But since it's so starkly fake, it's easy to let Felix feed him a chunk of the pompous combination, discovering once it's on his tongue, that it is dramatically over-sweetened.

“You’d really get along with Jisung,” he says, scrunching his nose. “I think my molars are rotting.”

“What are you, my primary care doctor?”

“I could be, I'm in medical school,” Chris replies, barely holding in his laughter when Felix looks at him round eyed. He has to struggle and swallow too fast in order to not choke. “5th grade. I'm doing clinical training as a physical therapist.” 

“What?”

“Yep. So I don't think I would be your primary care doctor, but I could fix your back if you fuck it up falling from a formation again.”

“You could fix my…? You are a physician and I didn't know!?” Felix effusively points at him with a messy fork, whipped cream flying to almost land on Chris’s face. “We don't know each other enough.”

“That's probably true, if we are going to roleplay as a couple in front of the whole uni we should try and learn a little bit more of each other or this is gonna collapse at some point. You know, the higher the tower…”

“Right. Ask me something about me and then I'll ask you.”

“Just like that, no warm-up? I don't know what to ask…”

Felix shrugs. “Anything. My favorite color is blue, but that’s not that important, I think” he says before stuffing his face with more pancake. “More relevant things, maybe? Like hobbies, music taste, politics…”

“How did you manage to convince the sports committee, the student council and the rectorate to allow free choice for uniforms? It’s something I've wondered about since the new measures were announced.” 

Felix frowns and his lips tighten into a purse as he’s taken aback by the question. “How do you know it was me who talked to them?”

“I mean, I think it's a known fact, especially among those in sports. I'm sorry to break it to you, but you're quite popular.” 

“Yeah, I know that.” Felix says. “When your older brother is the captain of the beloved rugby team and a known party animal, these things happen.”

“Come on, you know it's not because of your brother.”

Felix's eyes narrow slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, nothing bad,” Chris adds quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. The giggle lessens the effect of the gesture, though. “I'm just saying you should know people notice you because you're cute, you're hot, and you're a great performer, not just because Matt is your brother. Honestly, I think you might be even more popular than he is.”

Felix scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re talking about this as if you aren't on everyone's lips all the time.”

Chris’s smile drops as he's thrown off balance by the comment. For a moment, he wonders if he has misheard. 

"Wait... I’m not–" He stumbles over the words with a nervous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “What?”

“Ever since I arrived in Yonsei, you have been in the middle of every other conversation, here and there.” Felix insists with a steady certainty that Chan receives with confusion. The blondie's eyebrows furrow. “Are you not aware of this, Chris?”

“People talk about me?”

Felix lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Often. God, I can't believe you don't know this...”

“And what do they say?” He asks, his tone hesitant. The answer is something he both wants to know and dreads to hear, and Felix must clock there’s something off, because he looks at Chris and cocks his head as if trying to identify what. “Come on, Felix, you have to tell me.”

“It's not like they're gossiping about you in some weird way, but... you really get mentioned a lot. You’ve got this thing, y’know? That charisma thing, I guess, that makes people want to know you. But they are like… intimidated to go for it.”

Chris shifts uncomfortably on the chair, squeezing the flamingo that has somehow made it between his arms. He is not so used to hearing this.

“I'm not intimidating, I'm just some guy.”

“Maybe, but they don't know that.” Felix explains, vaguely pointing at him with his fork. “Even I didn't know that, five days ago. Out of your friend circle you are Christopher Bang, Bang Chan, Number Eight… the unreachable guy who looks cool and fun to be around but no one knows enough to say if that's true. If you think about it, who wants to be turned down by a guy like that?” 

“No one?” He says with an awkward chuckle, and Felix nods.

“Yeah, no one. At least, not many. And it doesn't help that the other common thing everybody knows you for is that you're The Hot One. Ultimate hot. Piping–”

“Now you're kidding,” Chris says, lowering his eyes. “That's what you think?”

“Not what I think,” Felix smirks, tilting his head slightly, eyes lingering on Chris just a beat too long. “I'm just talking about what people say.”

Chris raises his eyebrow, fighting the urge to roll his eyes with all his might just to not encourage Felix's coquettish humor more than it's necessary, because if not, he'll never stop with his funny game.

“You’re good at this, the fake dating thing,” Chan says after a heartbeat. He sighs. “Why did you agree to do it?” 

Chris thinks he sees something flicker on Felix’s caramel brown eyes, but if he doesn't make it up, it's gone too soon for him to tell what it is. Felix scoops up some ice cream with a piece of pancake and lifts his fork with a smile.

“Free food.” 

“Why did you actually agree?”

Felix stops. He looks at Chris and maintains the eye contact for almost a minute before he exhales and lets his fork fall on the plate, realizing the other man is not going to let it go. 

“You see, I have this tendency to choose my situationships poorly and this was a good way to keep my love life on standby for a bit. When I get bored I–” Felix pauses, looking away to hide the starting blush on his cheeks. “Yeah, I’m keeping myself busy for my own good.” He shakes his head, and remains quiet for a while. Then, he quietly adds. “The last one was a fucking disaster.”

“How comes?”

“I was texting and fucking with someone I met on a random night at the club. We were getting along just fine. She would leave me on read if I talked about something other than arranging a meet up but I didn't really care, the sex was like… a seven-point-five out of ten.” Felix taps his abandoned chunk of pancake against the plate. “But a couple weeks ago I fell asleep after… well, you know, and I woke up at hers. I thought it was weird to stay… considering we didn't even talk. I felt so fucking awkward and weird when I was going back to the dorm that I just… ghosted her.” 

“Damn…” Chris mutters, leaning back on his chair. “But it could be worse, I think. I mean, you ghosted her but she didn't even talk to you.”

“She talked to me after. She very kindly called me a fag.”

Chris frowns. “Really?”

“Yeah, and a few other pretty things. I'll save you the details.” Felix says sourly. When he is serious, his low voice sounds kind of dark. “But do you get it now?”

“Kinda,” Chris agrees, stealing a piece of banana from Felix's plate and biting on it with a grin. “But it seems you are the fuckboy after all?” 

Felix tsks, looking away again, out of the window. He must not be too offended because he smiles at Chris’s pull. 

“I see where you are coming from, but I swear I'm not. That's enough about me, you owe me two answers now.”

“Alright, fairs,” says Chris, leaving his utensils on the table to open his arms with an inviting gesture. “Hit me.”

_____

An upbeat song is already playing loudly through the court's humble sound system as the cheering team go through an exhaustive stretching and warm-up routine that has been going on for a while already and currently has Felix alternating splits and semi-splits on the running tracks, mostly to avoid making his bare legs itchy with the grass. It's almost like he's chilling instead of doing a flexibility feat, scrolling through his phone prompted up on his elbows with his stomach glued to the floor and his hair tied up in two swirly buns behind his head that he has decorated with white bows.

It's not unusual to see cheerleaders using their uniforms for training, even if sometimes it's just tops combined with average shorts or having jackets pulled over, but now that an important match is approaching and they play it home, no one is willing to skip the wardrobe test part of their sessions. They are all wearing it today, trying to get as close as the day of the match as they can so nothing catches them off guard when the time comes. 

Chris is seated on the bleachers, sandwiched between Jisung and Changbin who asked if they could accompany him as soon as he mentioned where he was going. He had no problem letting them tag along, if anything, their presence is in his best interest.

With all, Jisung's attention has been drifting to Felix's thighs more than it should for the last five minutes. It's his skirt, it rides up slightly when he shifts his weight to navigate the warm-up exercises, exposing a scandalous amount of soft, plush, distracting muscle.

“Earth to Han Jisung,” says Changbin, clearly amused. “His eyes are up there, buddy.”

“Actually, they aren't,” Jisung whips his head around to look at Changbin with a defiant expression. “I think he is pretty much an horizontal line at the moment, nothing is above that axis.”

“Cut it down a notch, Jisung, would you? He’s not meat.”

“I'm sorry,” he says insincerely, turning his gaze to Chris who has spoken last. “What were you looking at, then?”

Chris arches his eyebrows to confront Jisung –a student younger than him, for that matter– and his tone. 

“He is my boyfriend?” He reminds him. The excuse suits Chris down to the ground, because in truth, he's been staring.

It now makes a lot more of sense that Felix was the one who pushed the renovations in apparel rules. His uniform fits him like a glove and not only size-wise– the fabric clings to his body avidly. That electric blue color suits him and the sleek lines of white accentuate his chest and run all the way down his long sleeves, giving a flare of elegance to every movement he makes. 

Everything about him looks so natural, so in place, that it’s hard to tell if he’s a cheerleader by choice or if the uniform simply chose him. Even his hair, bouncing lightly with every stretch where the front strands get loose from the ties, adds charm to the whole look, the thin blue trim of his bows standing out against his pale locks. 

He is ravishing. It's nothing new, he's always been, it's just that Chris is now fully dedicating the moment to see him.

“He's not yours.” Jisung argues with a sulky tone and crosses his arms.

Chris chuckles quietly. “I know.”

“It's surprising to hear you say that so calmly,” Changbin comments.

“What ‘you mean?” 

He shrugs. “When you were dating The Cockroach you always acted super grabby with him. At the end he proved you had a reason to be, but I mean, that's why I'm used to see from you and you haven't dated anyone since.”

Chan hums, looking down at his hands. It's true that he hasn't been with anyone ever since his heart got pulverized and his hopes of true love extinguished like a candle dumped on a water bucket, at least not for something serious, but that’s exactly why he's here right now. 

“I think Felix would disagree with you,” he says, at last, as he leans back on the seat. “He says I'm a bit possessive as a boyfriend.”

“Nah, but it’s not the same,” Changbin waves a hand dismissively. “And besides, I think Felix likes that about you.” 

“What?” Chris asks with a frown. He would have given more credit to Changbin's words if he had stopped at the first half of the sentence because, well, of course the meaning is not the same when he's not even dating Felix for real. This, however, confuses him more. 

"It's not a bad thing, dude. Felix is just the type that wants people to care and you’re that." Changbin continues. "You're not overbearing, just... protective in a way he appreciates.”

Chris looks at the little guy that’s kneeling on the running tracks, moving his wrists in circles to warm them up, before them. He remembers what Felix told him the day they went to the cafe about his last situationship, and what he said about the type of boys that chase after him, too; and like that, it's not hard to see why Felix would be the type to crave some who is attentive of him and gets a little defensive over who looks his way. 

Changbin is probably not wrong, he just… lacks context. 

As Chris thinks about this, Hyunjin finds his way in front of Felix and starts to talk about something he can't hear, but he can tell the conversation is playful, if the mischief on Hyunjin's pulpy lips is something to go by. He offers his hand for Felix to get him up from the ground as he gestures with his chin towards the bleachers. 

Felix looks over his shoulder on his way up to his feet. His eyes flicker quickly over the seats for a moment before they fly in Chan’s face. His eyes crinkle, freckles like miniature constellations swirling to gather near the creases. He waves at Chris, earning a similar smile and wave combination in return, and then he’s back to his banter with Hyunjin as they walk to the grass, both looking amused and pushing each other.

“I can’t say who of the two is the most dangerous.” Jisung says, watching the duo. 

Chris snorts. “You could find out if you stick around for long enough.”

Both of Chris’s friends look at him with curiosity and he limits himself to shrug with a smug face on as an answer. If he tells Jisung that Hyunjin is crushing on him, chances that he’d make a fool of himself faster would be high, so he keeps it to himself. 

In this, Changbin doesn’t seem to be short of context, though, so he laughs with the most stupid laugh Chris has heard from him in a while –a legit “hehehe” sound that makes the hairs at Jisung’s nape stand.

This would have started to soon evolve into a fight if it wasn’t for the music cutting out abruptly and pulling their attention back to the court. Felix and Hyunjin are marking a move together and discussing something about it, Chaeryong is practicing her jumps away from the group and there's a group of four practicing a switch up; but they all start moving to their positions as the coach coaxed them to it. 

“Guys, you have this under control, we have been practicing for a long time and I know you can do it.” She encourages them, clapping her hands a few times to cheer them on even more. “Today we are starting general practice. The match is in nine days and we have to nail it and show KyungHee University who is in charge, alright?”

Honoring their name, the cheerleaders cheer backs. They shout ‘yes’ and ‘let's go’ here and there, clapping and jumping in their spots. It feels good to watch them in such good spirits, they really send the positivity into one's body just by seeing them radiate that joy; their happiness, energy, and good relationship with their coach are infectious. 

“That's what I like. Let's take it from the top! One, two, three, four!” 

“Five, six, seven, eight, we can!”

At the end of what seems to be their battle cry, everyone claps in unison and assumes a position in perfect synchronization. Four girls drop to the floor in front of the formation, two boys flank either side while everyone else arranges themselves in rows at the center, with their head bowed down and their hands flexed behind their backs. It’s so quick and sleek that it takes Chris off guard and he struggles to locate Felix in the cluster for a hot minute until he spots his little blonde head just in time before the electric music of the cheering remix starts blasting off the speakers and everything bursts into movement.

Here come the Eagles

What seems to be the problem?

Guys, this crowd is sick and dying

We gotta turn things around

Let's go!

That's the part that seems more familiar to Chris, the intro that he can hear sometimes when he is exiting the field to go to the benches for the halftime huddle where he recieves tactics talks. He never sees it as clearly, though.

It kicks off with a burst of energy, cheerleaders being launched into the air, propelling the central formation to bloom outward in all directions. The guys on the edges –one of them, Hyunjin– charge toward the center, crossing paths mid-air with their pirouettes. It's a chaotic start, but it's absorbing and, somehow, everyone ends up in ordered lines.  

That's when Chris sees him.

Felix tumbles forward from the back of one of the passages, a front handspring, then another one, backwards, and a high jump to twist in the air before he lands on the floor without even messing his dress or missing the beat, doing his dance moves to rile up the –future– crowd as he moves to the back again and stands watch near a group as they lift a girl that stands up to hold her flying pose. She dismounts quickly, and Felix continues his routine. He is singing along, he is also counting the beats, hopping around like a bunny, cartwheeling to the side in seamless coordination with three other girls. Above them, cheerleaders are hoisted high, arcing backward at the peak of their lift to create a stunning formation.

By the first minute of performance Chris has already started to think that he could have been paying attention to more important things at halftimes, because Yonsei's cheering team... they are amazing. They move like one despite being about twenty of them, and if one skips a count or is slightly off their spot, the entire thing could collapse and potentially end with someone broken on the floor.

But they don't.

The whole team leaps and twists backwards  and then there's Yeji and Chaeryong, and the new kid of the team sneaking to the front to have a dance section as the others assemble in new groups.

Up until now, Chris had forgotten what immediately seems like a key point of the afternoon. Felix is a flyer. His heart skips a beat when he sees him emerge in the middle of the central group, being flung up high in the air and waving a hand over his head while one of his legs is hitched up.

Hello, this is Yonsei calling

He lip-syncs the lyrics with a smile so bright it lights up the entire field, then he falls back down, where he stays a mere few seconds in his load position before he is being raised once more. With the impulse of his teammates at the base, he does nothing less than balancing a handstand on Hyunjin's steady hands, his legs going from a split to snapping together upright, almost defying gravity. 

I've come to make your world turn upside down

Oops!

He dips again, letting Chaeryong soar higher for just a heartbeat, executing a jump where her body almost forms a V before Felix is up for the third time, this time coming together with other four inverted teammates framing him in the middle, their coordinated pose giving off the illusion of their insane balance being effortless. Without a pause, they flow into a front split and flip, then turn on the air and their teammates lock them into a steady upright position as they do an elegant arabesque.

Chris feels a flutter of thrill within his chest, his eyes unable to leave Felix as he nails each movement to the heavy hits of the song, charging the air with the high energy of his performance. He switches quickly between poses, adding another hitch of his leg with his hands resting on his knee and his arms neatly stretched. He wobbles slightly as the cheerleaders at the base move forward, moving with the changing formation; but it doesn't scare him even for a bit. He keeps counting and singing.

Too fast for you?

I think I just left your head 

spinning

Chris can see Felix mutter the words clearly, as if he was talking to him, his confidence radiating with every move draws him in.  Just then, Hyunjin and Shota give him an impulse to jump into the air, kicking his leg above his head to shift his weight and make his body twist as he falls down backwards onto the secure cradle of arms that awaits him underneath. 

Jisung gasps loudly, but he can't be blamed because the three friends on the bleachers are the same, swept into the infectious emotion of the cheering squad, exploding in a loud applause. Chris even whoops, he can't help himself, too caught up in the thrill of it all.

But the show is not over yet. Felix bounces on the arms of his partners, standing up on their hands with the momentum to grip the hands of the other two flyers at his sides and be their support as they are simultaneously tossed up to perform a hip-over-head rotation until they land on their cradles and the corners dismount with splits. The formation shifts like clockwork. All the flyers get loaded up in the right heights and positions to complete their choreographed arm moves by holding hands and creating a symmetrical pyramid that makes the scattered watchers yell louder for them. 

“Let's go, sis!” Changbin proudly hollers as he watches Chaeryong leap up behind Felix, holding his hands to propel him further up in his next jump, making him able to open his arms and legs mid-air, suspended for a heartbeat longer than seems humanly possible.

Him and the other two flyers that remained at the sides reach vertiginous heights at the peak of their dismount, but as soon as their feet are back on the grass, they are happily trotting around, following their dance to empty the center of their stage so other members have their time to shine with their lines of somersaults. 

Chris can feel his pulse on his neck, keeping the rhythm of the hectic song. He catches a fleeting glimpse of bows, blue on the trims and where Felix's safety shorts peek from beneath his skirt.

With barely any time for a pause, the team spins into the next tumbling sequence, their bodies folding and unfolding in a blur of motion. Felix joins in with a hands-free flip forward.

Chris feels a twinge of warmth as he locks eyes with Felix when the group gathers in their tight array with a choral clap that resonates through the field and ignates the roars of their currently humble audience.

Felix  smiles –bright, wide, and confident– and Chris mirrors it.

“Stand up! Bring it on!”

It's hard to be a Yonsei student and not know every word to a cheering song, especially for those who carry the school spirit as hard as the ones in sport clubs usually do. Changbin, Jisung, Chris and every other person that has come to see the rehearsal today spring up at once singing the song as they clap and jump on time with the beat. It feels strange to do it so alone in the bleachers but at the same time it's not bad at all. The positivity curses through Chan's veins unfiltered. He's beaming and chanting, forgetting his lies, giggling and clapping to the rhythm of the cheerleaders’ high-energy dancing bit.

It's not less impressive than the stunts, the moves going fast and alternating high skips, floor rolls, hip swings… it’s everything all at once all of the time, and when it ends it's with a solid group move accompanied by the kick of the bass, leaving everyone frozen on a symmetric formation with several heights when the song ends. 

We brought you back to

life! 

Jisung is wide-eyed, applauding and hooting between his happy laughs.

“Whoa, they are amazing!” he says, shoving Chris’s shoulder right after. “You dog, you are a dog!”

Chris rolls his eyes, but he doesn't replicate, too genuinely happy at the moment to argue.

Hyunjin is soaked in sweat, charging Felix on his hip for the finale, although Felix promptly un-tucks his legs from under himself and jumps down with a big smile.

“Good job, good job!” the couch yells over the noise. “We can work a little bit more in those switch ups, but it’s pretty solid overall. Good job today, guys!” 

They pat each other on their shoulders, congratulating their friends with the training as they walk towards the tracks to do some more stretching and pick up their bags. 

“Are you going to move or are you staying here drooling all over the floor?” 

Changbin’s voice eventually brings Chris back to motion. 

“I'm not drooling.” He huffs as he stands up and bypasses his friends on the stairs so he can get to Felix.

Changbin and Jisung purposefully fall back a little to give Chris a gap of privacy. 

Felix is now walking-off the strain by pacing backwards around the field as he converses with a cherry blonde girl from the team, a bottle of water in his hand and his face still tinted with pink blotches from the intensity of the session. Chris catches a loose scrap of their conversation as they approach, trying to perfect the way they reach out for each other’s hand in the pyramid without having to look. It’s evident that Felix really likes what he does and takes it seriously, so immersed in the conversation that he misses Chris’s growing proximity altogether and his teammate has no time to warn him –although she tries, raising a hand and opening her mouth to speak– before he is crashing back onto him at the bottom of the stairs. 

The impact isn’t hard, but it’s sudden enough to throw his balance off momentarily. Without thinking, he reaches out instinctively, his hand landing lightly on Felix’s waist to steady him.

“Whoa– hey there.”

“Chris!” Felix starttles, immediately turning his head to see Chris’ playful grin on his face. He can feel how the cheerleader is about to start stirring on instinct, so he gives one tighter squeeze to his waist to remind him.

“Baby ,” he smiles. “Hi.”

Felix stops everything. He swims through the awkwardness for a moment and comes out from the other side with a subtle blush and smile. 

“Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there.”

Chris hums, shaking his head to show that he's not bothered, because he isn't but also because that's what a boyfriend would do. In fact, a boyfriend would do a bit more, considering he's a good one.

He doesn't have much time to think what to do. He just tilts his head, pressing his lips to Felix's hair in a warm, fluttering kiss. 

“‘S fine,” he says softly.

Rapidly, Chris gets the sensation that he may have pushed it a bit too much because Felix's back straightens against him and his face burns so red he has to hide it behind a hand. Chris thinks he can see his smile on Felix's face from the corner of his eyes as he lets the cheerleader go off his embrace and stand by his side instead. But it could be a mask for–

“Aw, how cute!” The girl who was talking to Felix laughs, her high-pitched voice making Felix snap back to the present. 

“Ah, yeah, sorry. Sana, this is–” he stumbles over his words. “My boyfriend Chris. Chris, this is Sana.”

“Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise, Sana." Chris says with a warm smile. "Super nice routine, by the way, congratulations.”

“Thank you, thank you.” she says, bowing politely with her bright smile. She also has a bow like Felix's adorning her ponytail. “You're dating Felix now, uh? Is it the first time you see her?”

“Yeah, I'm usually on the field or in the benches so I tend to miss most of the halftime performance.”

“True! We always see you play but what about us, eh? We don’t get the same energy in return." She says with mock indignation, her hands on her hips. She laughs, though. "You have to come more often and see. How did you like it?”

“It was impressive, I had my heart in my fist all the time. Felix, you should have told me you follow different rules of gravity than the rest of us,” Chris says, nudging the blonde with his shoulder. “You are incredible.”

“Of course you'd say that.” Felix pouts, perfect on his role. Even his eyes are softer now, tuning down the usual mischief he shows to Chris when they are alone. “Did I really do it well?”

"Yes," Chris says seriously, looking at him. "You are–"

“It was insane, dude, seriously.” A voice rings from behind them before Chris opens his mouth. “You're a flyer because you can really fly. Damn!”

“Thanks.” Felix says with sincerity.

“I mean it. Ah, yeah, sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Han Jisung.”

“I know.”

“I– oh.” Jisung pauses and scrunches his nose. “Yeah?”

“Felix knows everybody,” Chris provides, finding Jisung's sudden awkwardness endearing. He has grown fond of his friends’ quirks. “He is what you may call a social butterfly.”

“Oh, okay. I'm not that, though.” Jisung says with a shrug. 

“The cheerleaders always watch your matches, of course. We see you from the side lines and rile up the crowd. We are more into it than you may think.” Felix kindly explains, surprising Chris with how he just seems to recognize the tell-tale signs of Jisung's social phobia popping to the surface. “We end up knowing all the players and their styles. You're the little nuisance that runs head first into every ruck.”

“That I am!” Jisung cackles, a smirk proudly tugging his lip over his teeth. “The nuisance... Wait.”

“Yes, you are.” Changbin agrees with a clap to his shoulder that almost knocks him over, making Jisung protest. He doesn't even look intimidating, not more than a squirrel that has lost an acorn.

“You often put us in a dilemma,” Felix continues with a snicker. “We feel that, if we cheer you on too much, you may get someone injured, but it’s our job to do it and… well, what's rugby without a bit of blood, right?”

“I like this guy,” Jisung announces. “Maybe I like him more than I like you, Chan” he says with humor and turns to Felix, pretending to speak in whispers. “What did you see in him?”

Chris presses his lips on a line and looks up, finding his patience to put up with the insolence of his friend just because he knows Jisung’s antics well enough by now. They share history together so he knows, this time, that Jisung's words are only a friendly joke. After all, Jisung can be annoying at times, but he has stuck to Chris since the beginning and never ever left him to his own fate, not even when he was a crying mess holed up in his cave of darkness, work and woe. 

“That… well,” Felix clings to Chris’s arm, pressing his cheek to his shoulder. “That's a secret.” he says with a wink. “I haven't even told him yet.”

Chris gives him a look.

“Consider me intrigued,” Changbin chuckles, unable to suppress a laugh. “Anyway, I’m off to embarrass Chaeryong in front of her crush now. Amazing job, Felix.” He pats his shoulder before heading off.

“Thanks.”

“Wait, hold on, lemme go with you,” Jisung says, rushing over to give Chris and Felix a quick bow in farewell before dashing off to catch up with Changbin. “Whatvare you doing!? Don't leave me third wheeling!” 

Chris shakes his head with a sigh. A fond smile tugs at his lips as he watches his friends rush off bickering, their antics as familiar as ever.

“It's like they think I'm gonna suck you off in the middle of this court.” Felix mutters, the ghost of a frown closing around his eyebrows.

“Don't mind them, they are disasters,” Chris chuckles in response. He then softly bumps his hand and Felix's together so he can get his attention and get him out of that sudden displeasure. “Wanna go eat something? It's on the house, naturally.”

Felix tsks. “Yeah, let's go.”

He guides Chris to the pile of coats and bags to pick his things. As he puts his denim jacket on, Chan takes the liberty of picking up his bag –the puffy one, with a plushie keychain of the Yonsei eagle and a pearl ribbon hanging from the zipper– and throws it over his shoulder.

“Oh… okay,” Felix says when he sees him. He laughs, looking at the view. “It suits you.”

Chris feigns some model-like poses, highlighting how little it suits him. The colors and the theme matches his varsity jacket –that he is wearing again– and jeans combination, but Felix's bag is daintier than anything he usually wears. Total eclipse of the moon.

“Am I cute?”

“Cutest,” Felix says with a humored eye roll. “Now let's get going, I'm starving.”

“Ah, there we go, you look at me and only see a delivery guy." Chris says, pulling out some dramatics. "I'm only your piggy bank... what a life. But okay, I won't blame you today.”

“Today,” Felix parrots. “Why not today but yes on other days?”

“Today I have seen you do all those amazing things, so I guess I get why you have an appetite right now.”

"Hey, you don't have to keep buttering me up," Felix teases. "We are alone now."

"I'm not trying to, I'm just seriously impressed.”

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I mean I expected good dancing and a few stunts, but not on the level I saw here today. Where did you even get that from? You're only a sophomore."

"I did gymnastics before coming to Korea. In highschool. When I was planning my trip and settling all my uni related things, I read about the team and knew I wanted to give it a try. You know, retaking my sport and also trying to exploit this a bit more." He says, gesturing at his outfit. "I had already started expanding my vision of who I like to be but sometimes..."

"It gets complicated," Chris completes with a nod, understanding Felix's point. He is queer too, he knows.

"Yes. This gave me a more solid excuse to keep it up. Some people still take it badly but some let it pass because they can excuse it if it's for the performance." 

"I see. That must suck, that you can only try to be you if you make up excuses... but if it helps at all, I think you are brave doing this and you look great as… well, as yourself."

Felix's eyes soften, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he replies, his voice quieter, touched.

“There’s something I should… change when I speak to you?”

Felix shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I’m fine with being Felix. I have no discomfort with how people refer to me in any case, you get me? It’s like… I get why people go for one or another side of the binary, but it’s like I can’t get myself tl care that much about it. So, whatever seems more appropriate to the other person when they call me is fine because, internally, neither side makes sense to me. I do feel comfort when people use different terms, you know? It feels like I’m being seen as ‘yes, boy, but also… more” ” he says with a snicker. “Sorry, I may not be making much sense to you right now.”

“No, seriously, I think I get it. I don’t feel it for myself but I get it.” Chris says. “And besides, I can see it in you.”

Felix stares at him with curiosity and an edge of carefulness. “You can see it?”

“Yeah. When I see you in, let’s say, your baggy jeans and sleeveless tank; it feels right. You look comfortable, confident, you know? But then you pull up in a dress, like you are now, and it doesn't change. I mean, it does change in a sense,” Chris rambles, hoping to express himself as nice as possible. “You don’t look the same, you seem more… delicate? Maybe. You don’t even move in the same way, but it’s still you at the base and it looks so natural and comfortable on you that it’s just right. You make it look right, meant to be that way. You are boy-and-more ,” he determines with a nod, using the words Felix had used for himself. “And it’s not only in the clothes, it just is .”

Felix’s eyes flicker with surprise, then something warmer. "You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Chris replies with a playful grin. “Maybe it’s the bows.” he jokes, giving one of Felix's buns a shake between his fingers. In response, Felix rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder.

"Alright, alright, you’ve had your fun," Felix grins, brushing his hair back. "But I'm seriously starving, let's hit the food vendors before I pass out."

Chris raises an eyebrow. “Street food?” 

“What about it?”

“It’s cheap.”

“And quick,” Felix counters with a shrug. “It's getting dark and I have been running around all day. A lecture, a meeting, working on assignments, another lecture, training… I only had time for quick snacks today, and besides, I'm not a snob, you know?”

“That's it, then,” Chan indulges. “Let's go get you something, what are you in the mood for? Sundae? Fish-cake soup? There's always a grandma with a stand near the Art Hall that sells good fish-cake soup, if you don't mind a little walk.”

Felix tilts his head, considering the options. “Hmm, I’m actually kind of craving something warm. Yeah, okay, I think I can walk to the Art Hall before I consume myself from the inside.”

Chris nods and finally, they walk out of the rugby court to head to the Art Hall that lays on the main avenue of campus. The way there is easy for pedestrians ever since they moved the car traffic underground, and they drift into a silent walk, letting the cool air of early night hit their faces.

He wonders whether he should hold Felix's hand as they walk like he did last Friday. The moment seems to call for it, sending a slight tingle under his skin that causes his fingers to twitch. He shoves his hands in his pockets, giving himself an internal pep talk. They have given the world enough displays and the ball is rolling, it's working , he doesn't have to push it as much and make Felix uncomfortable and tired of all this before the big day even arrives. 

“Are you sure you want to carry my bag all the way?” Felix eventually asks, clearly eager to break the silence as it grows awkward with every minute. 

“It's not heavy, why? Do you want it back?”

“No, it’s just…” Felix I terrumpts himself, eyes locking on his bag as it comfortably rest on Chris’s shoulder. He huffs a chuckle that doesn't reach all the way to his eyes and, suddenly, he seems serious. “There are things I don't understand about you.”

“I'm simply carrying your bag?” Chris says, a little confused. “What's there to understand?”

“You treat me like a princess.”

“And? That's what this is all about, no?”

“Yeah, it's not like I'm complaining, obviously, but it’s the way you just do it and how it seems so effortless.”

“I'm not following you, Lix.”

“What's your filthy secret?”

Chan snorts. “Sorry?”

“Seriously, there has to be something.” He grins. “Like, I get it, cheaters will cheat anyways but… are you a conspiracy theorist? You fart a lot, maybe?”

“What the fuck? No!”

“It's okay, everybody farts, it's natural.”

“What are you talking about?” Chris whines, stopping on the sidewalk just as they arrive in front of the Art Hall. He gestures at himself. “I'm just… this, Felix. Seriously, just a guy. Why are you asking me all these things?”

“You're too kind for your own good.” He bluntly replies. He laughs for himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is your idea of how a boyfriend has to be, and yet… you are doing all of this because your ex cheated on you.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me.” He says, dryly. 

“No, I'm just saying… I don't get why he would do that. What a fucking scumbag.” 

“Hey, those are not words for a princess like you,” Chris teases, but amusement tries to elude him and a heavy sigh leaves him. He shrugs. “It is what it is. It was a long time ago, I'm over it now. He made his choice and I was forced into mine, so here we are.”

“Here we are, about to order fish-cake soup. It's not that bad for a Monday, is it?”

Chris lifts one corner of his mouth. “It could be worse, I guess.” He says, walking up to the stall in resignation. “How many skewers do you want?”

“Three, please.”

He nods, and as soon as the grandma of the stall has time to stop cutting fishcake and attending the people that got there before them, he's ordering two cups of soup with three skewers each. Felix slides in next to him, leaning on the counter with his forearms, his side brushing Chris and his warmt muting the chill of the air.

“So… it's the farts, right?”

Chris tsks, rolling his eyes, but this time his shoulders relax and Felix's smiles. 

“I drool when I sleep,” he murmurs. Felix raises his eyebrows so he chuckles under his breath. “I have trouble sleeping, so when I do, it all catches up to me and I sleep very deeply, so I drool.”

“Ah… see? Everything makes sense now.” Felix takes the paper cup that the grandma hands him, warming up his hands with the heat of the soup.

Chris feels a strange bubbling under his chest. Laugh. He usually wouldn't laugh about this topic at all but it just happens, Felix's sarcastic tone pushes the squeaky sound out of his throat. He sighs, taking his own cup and handing the woman the money.

“Let's go sit somewhere to eat this.”

“Yes, sir.”

_____

Chris scurries into his dorm at 1am trying not to bother his roommate on his way in. He had lost track of time and now Jeongin is passed out in his bed like anyone with reason would do on a Monday, the room lit poorly.

He kicks off his shoes and sits in his bed, his body still warm from the homely broth of the soup and the memory of Felix doing the stupidest interpretation of Keyshia Cole's Love in the Art Hall stairs as it played on the grandma's radio, distantly. The night feels like a blur of casual moments that have added up to something Chris can't quite put his finger on. 

He's going to regret this tomorrow, when he has to wake up early. 

Just then, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes it out, checks the notification he should have expected. Not a call, not a text. It's an instagram notification that says Felix has tagged him on a story. 

He rubs his face with one hand, tapping the push-up notification and letting the picture unfurl on his screen. It doesn't take him by surprise, Felix had been about to take a selfie with his lobster fish-cake skewer when Chris had crushed into it shoving his face against Felix's hair, turning the resulting shot into a blurry candid of Felix laughing featuring a portion of Chris’s grinning face.

It's like joy likes to chase Felix wherever he goes and float around the man in speckles, the moths drawn to a proverbial flame. It’s the kind of thing that may be what makes Chris forget the clock and stick around a little longer.

He reposts the picture on his stories, a black heart emoji added above their heads. 

_____

Three weeks is not that much time, if one thinks about it. It's hardly twenty five days. Twenty five days for the rugby team to train the hardest in preparation for the semi-finals. 

The competition is palpable in the air, and there’s a lot less fun and giggles in each session than there usually is when the weight of the league is lighter on their shoulders. The coaches don't play about rivalry between institutions, they never do. They are pushing them harder, insisting they polish their precision and go over tactics after each session, which makes them stay longer at the end of their training time. As days go by, it begins to take a toll on them. The density of Chris’s exhaustion is too much to fully scratch it off with the rests he can squeeze into his schedule. He's still a med student, after all, he juggles with his time. 

It's not that he isn't used to it, Chris has never been the type to maintain a balanced schedule between work and not going fucking mental. He has tried to fix that about himself ever since he started spiraling out of control in his middle school midterms, but nothing. Planners, alarms, the pomodoro technique… all have been useless for his mind that works solely fueled by surges of either urgency, passion or pure spite. He wants to graduate so he studies until the sun falls if there’s an exam coming –sometimes more, until Jeongin looks at him with concern and drags him to bed. He wants to win the match so he can train until the coach says he can go home. 

When there are important things approaching, chances of his days becoming packed are high just because of that attitude, because of how his fringes of time to fill basic needs like eating, showering and sleeping become narrower and narrower the more he stretches his time being productive. 

And despite all of that, he manages to find moments to think about Felix. 

Fleeting thoughts of him soar across his week with an almost steady frequency. When he scrolls past a gingerbread cookies tutorial, when he walks in front of the university’s mascot that offers flyers of activities on the main district –it reminds Chris of the charm on Felix's bag–, when he eats alone and about two or three times during his rugby sessions.

It's been too long since Chris went to the cheerleaders’ rehearsal and treated Felix to dinner after, and it’s clearly bothering him. When he tries to reason with himself and find the cause of the pestering thoughts, he concludes it's because he's afraid he's not playing the role he has given himself. Boyfriends are supposed to see each other often. What if people started to wonder if they got things right? They could begin thinking that maybe they were just friends hanging out sporadically, right? They can't risk that. The last time Chris saw Felix was on Monday and now it's… Wednesday. 

Hold on, it’s just Wednesday?

At least that's what his computer tells him when his thoughts get definitely detached from the text in front of him and he takes a look at the time. Wednesday, 13:15. He frowns. He has been studying only for three hours straight.

Perhaps he's just hungry. His stomach does whine at him loud enough to make him look around with an awkward smile, ready to laugh away the embarrassment if someone has noticed it. So, yeah, he runs with that simplistic thought. He is hungry, and he's been associating Felix with meals lately. 

He shrugs it off, going back to his unfinished document. He can go and grab something to eat once he's finished reading his paper and taken all the notes he needs for the class discussion he has due for tomorrow.

Or maybe he should text Felix anyways, ask him if he wants to go in another of their food court adventures and kill two birds with one stone. Chris is barely two more paragraphs into his paper but he is going to need to stop to eat at some point, so it's not like he'd be wasting time.

Chris hesitates, shifting his weight on the chair, suddenly unable to find his posture. He sighs, telling himself he shouldn't be getting so stressed over a plan so petty –almost hearing what Jeongin told him some days ago, with a smile. That it was nice to see him giving love another chance. 

Guilt surges forth in his stomach.

In a few days,  his teammates, his friends and god-knows-how-many-others are going to think he is a real asshole for breaking Felix's heart in two. He hadn't stopped to consider that part before, but the involvement of his friends in his scheme is meant to have consequences. It brings his mind back to an awareness of that faint but constant presence of the lie he has started.

He decides he is going to finish the paper first and try to send a text later to see if Felix wants to hang out. If he works, he'll keep his brain from going to places that are too late to visit –the Rationality Valley, for example.

This is not a mistake, this is karma. 

The universe had plenty of time to deal it, but if it's really that busy with the big assholes traffic, Chris can serve it himself. This is all The Cockroach's –as Changbin had accurately named him some days ago–  fault. 

It's not Felix's fault, though. Chris lifts his eyes from the notebook as that thought stops at the gates of his consciousness. 

He shouldn't make Felix adapt to his inconsistent meal hours just because he is chaotic enough to help him with this crazy plan. They agreed that Chris would provide Felix with free meals, anyways, he is bound to his own promise. 

He pulls out his phone and quickly finds Felix's name on the top three chats of his screen. He calls, though, it's quicker. The beeps of the dial make him fidgety, for some reason. His leg starts to bounce under the table.

He knows Felix is not in class, he finishes Classroom Psychology at 12:00 and doesn't start his next class until 15:00. That doesn't mean he'd pick up , he tells himself.

But Felix picks up. His voice cuts deeply through the line. 

"Hello?”

“Hey, Felix.”

“Hello, babe ."

"You're with people, uh?" Chris asks lightheartedly as soon as he hears the pet name, his face getting a bit warm. 

"You're not wrong," Felix hums. Chris can hear the dull murmur of conversations and movement at the other side of the line. "I'm in the student's hall convenience store, trying to decide what I want to eat."

"The student's hall? Really?"

"Yeah, paying for my food all by myself."

"Big boy behaviour, who would have said it?"

“Hey, I thought I was your princess.” 

“Seriously? That's what you're gonna take and run with, the princess roleplay?” Chris asks, raising his eyebrows even though Felix can't see him. “Okay, sure, whatever you like.”

“Of course it's whatever I like,” he says, characteristically bratty and clearly joking. “So tell me, why am I paying for my own food? Now that you have me in your pocket you are starting to neglect me. Where are you?"

"Guess." Chris says, having the time of his life already.

"Rugby field?"

"Cold, freezing cold. Try again."

"What is this all about?" Felix chuckles. "I don't know, where are you? Give me a hint."

"Upstairs."

"Wait, really?" Felix sounds cheerfully surprised. "You're in the Students Hall too? What are you doing here? Club room?"

"Cold."

"Oh, fuck you. Library?"

"Eh... warmer."

"I see. The study room."

"You burned yourself."

"The study room? What are you doing there?"

"Studying?" He replies with a chuckle. "What else would I be doing?"

"I don't know, I thought your classes were all practical already."

"Not all of them. I have a class discussion about musculoskeletal examination tomorrow." 

"And you're bored out of your mind."

"Hm? No, not really. Why?"

"Because you're on the phone with me."

“I’m hungry.” he blurts out as his only explanation. 

There's a beat of silence at the other side of the line before Felix speaks again.

“And I can fix that?” Felix asks, a hint of something in his voice that Chris chooses to ignore.

"Maybe. Are you busy?"

"For what?"

"You're about to eat, aren't you? Wanna come up here and eat with me?"

Chris bites his lip, a feeling of dread bubbling to the surface when he asks the question.

"Well, I could ditch Hyunjin..." Felix’s voice trails off. Chris can hear the muffled protest in the background –Hyunjin calls him a whipped traitor , then he teases Felix saying he was a better friend as a slut . "Yeah, it's final, I'm ditching him," he says, dry enough to make Chris imagine the side eye he's bestowing upon his friend.

“You sure? What about Hyunjin?”

"It's fine, it's not like I haven't skipped out on him before. What ‘you wanna eat?"

"Really, you coming?” I– Just whatever, it's fine. Surprise me." 

Felix chuckles under his breath, a sound Chris is starting to find comforting. “‘s okay, I have lunch with the team a lot, they can excuse me once.”

“Yeah, well, if the cheerleading team starts to hate me for stealing you all the time, I'll blame you.”

“You're so silly,” Felix huffs through the phone, not a note of offence in his tone. “Give me ten and I'll be there.”

“Thanks, Lix!”

When the line goes quiet, Chris leaves his phone on the table and leans back on his chair, running a hand through his hair and feeling the quiet hum of campus life outside the window. It makes no sense trying to immerse himself in the text now, it's officially his lunch break. 

The study room is still, save for the faint sound of people flipping pages and typing on keyboards. Here and there, some students have been smarter than Chris and pulled out their own snacks and lunch boxes to have lunch without interrupting their grind. 

He tends to forget that's an option, his romantization of a student life has never been the strongest. His reason to work hard has always been pure ambition, more than thirst for the experience, and he has not cared that the student side of him is not fancy and worthy of posting online with chill music and a cozy filter. He has accommodated in his own version of it that suits his personality, a bit messy, a bit dark and quiet. Happy but with nothing extraordinary. He knows the dangers of that kind of greed by now.

“Hi.”

Chris nearly loses his balance and falls back with the chair, startled by the sudden cut of Felix's deep voice through his reveries. Something –most likely the snicker he lets out as he sits down in front of him– tells him that Felix has caught him spacing out.

“Eh, hey.”

“Reviewing the lesson?” He grins. He's wearing a pink sweater that makes his golden skin pop. He is beautiful like this too, with his hair down and no bows, just a simple sweater, jeans and his face washed off. 

“Well,” he hisses, squinting one eye. “Yeah, something like that. Don't judge me too harshly, I think I lost the plot and I need a break.”

“I'm not judging you,” Felix says, and he softens. Everything about him, his eyes, his posture, his voice. “You look tired.”

“Do I?” Chris scrubs a hand across his face, feeling a sudden jab of self consciousness. 

“A little bit,” Felix confesses. "What is it about? The lesson."

Chris waves a dismissing hand. "Nah, it's okay, you don't want to hear about it."

"Why not?" He asks, nonchalantly. Chris blinks at him. "Is it med too hard for my bimbo cheerleader brain?"

"I didn’t say that!” Chris says, indignant. “It’s just... you came all the way up when I called you to bring me lunch, I don't want to bore you, on top of that."

Felix tilts his head. "Come on, try me."

“You serious?”

“Yeah, show me if you were really studying.”

Chris snorts, defeated by the insistence.

"Alright so... according to studies, in the latter years, more than 25% of work related illnesses are wrist lesions caused by the performance of repetitive hand motions like constant typing, manufacturing jobs, construction... which usually develops into tendonitis. You know? Tendonitis is… the tendons swell, get irritated or slightly fractured, and that cause a dull ache, tenderness and weakness in the area which, in this case are the wrists. The thing is, patients usually overlook wrist pains considering it something minor or unserious, and as they go untreated they are most likely to extend and cause shoulder and back pain. So when a patient comes to consultation with back pain, it's not always as easy to find the problem and treat it if we focus on the area where they insist their pain to be on, we should also uh... examine the possibility of it being an extended injury and find effective solutions… from the root."

At the other side of the table, Felix has rested his face on a fist and is humming at the explanation, his eyes trained on Chris. It kind of makes his skin prickle. 

“What?” 

“I take back what I said,” Felix starts, pressing down a laugh. “You’re not a fuckboy. You're a nerd. Or are those two compatible? Maybe you are both…”

Chris rolls his eyes, shutting down his laptop once and for all. 

“Please, what do we have for lunch?”  

Felix chuckles and gives in, letting the joke die and pulling out the bag he has brought with him. Chris helps him clear out the table, setting his laptop and other papers aside in a little, tidy pile at the corner of the table. Then, Felix brings out the lunchboxes, and they are clearly not convenience store food.

Chris's questioning gaze makes Felix reply with a shrug. 

“I took a mini detour to the food court so we could eat something more… complete? I didn’t think I could fill your appetite with a simple sandwich.”

“Felix,” He sighs, shoulders slumping. “You didn't have to.”

Felix sets the food down in front of him, uncovering the boxes –no, it's only one box, a large cardboard box with a fancy logo of the court food on the first floor– to reveal a perfect set of sushi. There're all kinds. Rolls, sashimi, nigiris and even the sauces in two small containers. It looks amazing and Chris’s stomach growls loudly again, cutting through the calm pause on their conversation. 

Felix laughs, reaching for a set of chopsticks.

“Sounds like I did.”

“Fuck,” he whines, probably turning beet red. “Ignore that, please. Was this too expensive? It looks expensive.”

“It wasn't, but don't worry about it anyways, I'll pay this time.” Chris has put an entire piece of tuna roll in his mouth, so his question is only via frown, although Felix understands perfectly. “Let me do it once in a while or the princess treatment will get to my head.”

“Isn’t it already there?” Chris retorts with a tame smirk. 

Felix shakes his head, his voice turning a little quieter. “You don’t even know.” 

That makes Chris look up at the cheerleader. He watches him under the midday sunlight filtering through the window, the shadows of tree leaves dancing across his face. He carefully dips a piece of sashimi into the sauce with quiet focus, completely unaware of the weight of Chris’s gaze. However Chris can’t help but feel something subtle and unfamiliar stirring in the air between them, lingering.

He tries to shake it off, slowly beginning to consume the food a piece of sushi at a time, each of them picking things at random when they most prefer it. Chris counts how many units of the same thing are there to eat an even portion and not steal everything from Felix who seems to eat slower than him, perhaps because he’s not starved like a stray dog. 

Like this, they shift into a comfortable silence. There’s no pressure to fill it in with useless words, so Chris simply doesn’t, still lost in his thoughts for a moment.

“You know?” Felix says eventually, breaking the stillness. He is chatty, that much has been assessed and Chris doesn’t mind. In fact, he supposes it’s a bit better having someone that drags him out of his aloof bubble sometimes. 

“Yeah?”

“I am happy that you called me,” Felix says. He’s furrowing his eyebrows at the food he's fiddling with, like he doesn’t fully agree with what he’s saying. He licks his lips before he continues. “I think I’d like to be friends. When this is over, I mean. You are good company.”

Chris blinks, taken aback for a moment, before a small smile tugs at his lips. The shift in his expression seems to ease something in Felix whose posture relaxes a bit more.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Really?”

“Of course. It’s kind of surprising we haven’t talked much these two years, considering how close our circles are. We have been existing in parallel lines, I guess.” Chris short-laughs at the idea and the oddness of it all, how something so mystical can seem so accurate. 

“We might have more reasons to converge soon,” Felix leans back, a hint of his typical mischief coming out on his pupils. “Did you know Hyunjin and Jisung were texting last night?” 

Chris eyebrows shoot under his iron-straightened fringe. His curiosity is definitely piqued. 

“Texting or texting ?”

“ Texting, ”  Felix says, replicating the tone Chris just used with a sly grin. “I think we are talking dick pictures involved. I know Hwang Hyunjin and he gets cockdrunk with a surprising ease,” he jokes. “And he’s got an extra bounce in his step today.” 

“You know what? I wouldn’t be surprised if Jisung sent one, it’s completely his style.”

“I thought he would be shy.”

“At first,” Chris concedes, nodding slowly. “But once he finds his confidence… he is a talker. Well, that, and he is nasty as fuck, a full on pervert.”

“You shouldn’t talk like that about your friends.” Felix snorts. “Maybe we are assuming.”

“I’m gonna see him later today for training, should I ask him?”

“Oh my god, just like that? He’s gonna think I’m nosy!”

“I won't tell him it was you.”

“But it’s gonna be obvious it was me!” Felix quips, amused. “He’s gonna know.”

“No, not really. Have you tried to talk to someone while you're together in a scrum? ‘Cause when you have someone’s ass on your shoulder in a big, sweaty hug, reasoning is not a predominating thing.” 

“Do you talk during those?”

“Only if it’s not a serious match, of course. But, come on, I mean, it’s a big fucking hug, camaraderie can’t get better than that, can it?” 

“You sell it well. Am I in the wrong sport or what?” Felix grins, being clearly playful. “Should I switch?”

“Hell no!” Chris exclaims, a little too enthusiastic. He quickly schools himself, chuckling to downplay his reaction. “You like what you do and you’re great at it, you shouldn’t quit something like that.” 

Felix tilts his head, still grinning. “How do you know I like what I do?”.

“I mean, you wouldn’t be doing it if you didn’t… and you look really happy when you are on it. I like cheerleader Felix.”

Felix’s eyes soften, a quiet warmth flickering in his caramel eyes as the mischief leaves space for something more genuine.

"And I think I–" he starts only to be cut off by someone calling his name way too loudly for a study room.

“Felix!” A boy –atractive sharp features, wavy hair, fucking aussie accent– approaches their table, and Felix's smile wavers weakly on his lips. It stays there, if only in a precarious equilibrium.

"H-hi," he says, eyes fluttering. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, you tell me…” the guy says. Something in his voice ticks Chris off, a note of irony that seems too sharp and cutting for a calm midday like this. “I never catch you in the club no more, are you going to a different one now?”

“No, I just… I haven’t been in a while.” Felix mumbles, his words trailing off.

“Why? Have you fucked everyone in Itaewon already?” he asks with a chuckle, a bitter one that makes his lack of humor clear.

Felix's mouth falls open in surprise, and he falters, at a loss for words. His eyes flicker toward Chris, and for a moment, his face flushes with embarrassment before he quickly looks away, turning back to the guy who doesn't seem to care about any of this. 

“Or are you simply avoiding me now?” the guy presses, his tone growing colder, more calculating.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Felix says, his voice uncharacteristically small. It sounds all wrong, like he’s trying to make himself disappear. “But I already told you, I’m not interested.”

“That’s not what you said the night we met.” he says, quirking up an eyebrow.

“It was something casual, I told you already. We were in a club, and I was sloshed, by the way, I didn’t even…” his voice trails off, leaving the sentence incomplete.

Chris glares at the man, anger shimmering in his blood as if someone had turned on a stove. ‘ Christ, that’s fucked up’. His tongue presses on the inside of his cheek, looking at the man as if he could burn him away with the fire cracking inside him. The jerk’s been here long enough, smearing his shit across the walls like it’s nothing.

“Come on, you had a good time.”

"Sorry, am I invisible or what?" Chris finally snaps. He hears Felix gasp at the other side of the table, the hardness of his tone likely catching him completely off guard.

The stranger whips his head around, looks at Chris like he is in fact seeing him for the first time and is not happy about the discovery of his presence. His eyes swim between confusion and annoyance.

"Who are you?"

Chris doesn’t hesitate. "I'm his boyfriend. The real question is who the hell are you."

Felix freezes on his chair, eyes on Chan and lips parting as if he's trying to say words that don't come to him.

"Boyfriend?" The guy says with a condescending click of his tongue. "You can’t be serious, you really believed that? Fine. Wait until you fuck her, though, she'll suddenly get bored and dump you."

The words hit Chris like a slap to the face. For some reason, that has irritated him even more. ‘Am I that dispensable?’ .That might be what the tiny voice at the back of his brain says, it might be the truth, even, but one thing is believing it and another different one it's to let an asshole think they are something for pointing it out.

"What, is that all you’ve got?” he sneers. “You're bitter because she didn't want you for more? Because if that's it, you don't have to make it my problem, and you especially don’t have to make it hers . Get the fuck out of here, man."

"You don't–"

"Hey," He doesn't even let the guy replicate, his voice as cold as ice when he cuts him off. He gives him the dirtiest look he has in storage. "She told you she’s not interested, and that should be enough, but since it’s not I'm asking you to get out nicely once. I won’t ask you nicely twice.”

“Chris…” Felix breathes out, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he’s trying to hold himself together.

“It’s okay, baby,” Chris reassures, still not breaking eye contact with the asshole across the table. “He was already on his way out, isn’t that so?” 

“Yeah…” the man says, hesitance edging his response. He shakes his head, shoving his hands on his pocket as he steps away, mumbling. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

“I didn’t ask you, really” Chris says, not loud, but knowing the guy is going to hear him as he finally walks away and leaves the study room with a handful of eyes quietly sticking to his back. “Fucking cunt.”

At last, Chris turns back to Felix, and what he sees in him makes him instantly rebound to composure. Felix has his fingers tightly wounded on the edge of the table, his eyes on the wood with an almost lost expression, so still they are turning glassy and… he blinks, tipping his head back for a moment and blinking before he tries to put himself back together.

“I’m sorry,” he says, hoarsely. “You shouldn’t have seen that. Any of that.”

A line appears between Chris’ eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

Felix gives a little shake with his head. Chris feels a reluctant surge of apprehension tickling in his chest from beneath his ribs.

“If it means anything, that… when that happened, it was before you.” says the cheerleader, still not looking up. 

“Felix,” Chris says in disbelief with the… the apology . “I don’t fucking care, that guy was a cretin.”

“Is he?” He asks, sourly. His shoulders drop. “He didn’t lie, though, I did all those things. Chris, I’m–” he stops and swallows. His words seem to get stuck on his throat for a second. “There’s something you should know about me.”

“That you fucked a guy?”

“That I fucked so many guys,” he blurts out, and flinches when he makes the pause. He rubs his palm against his forehead. “I have always been like this , and I know it’s bad, I– I don’t know why I do it. I’m trying to–”

“Stop,” Chris says, dropping a hand over Felix’s clasped one over the table. He has started squeezing them nervously, and Chris can only try to shove his thumb in between trying to keep him from getting hurt. It kind of works, Felix’s words and his breath stutters on his throat, shutting him up. “You don’t owe me an explanation, first of all.”

Felix’s eyes flutter for a moment and then he looks away, chewing on his lower lip. 

“Right…” 

“And second of all, what's wrong with the things you did?” The question earns him a timid look from Felix. His pink lip is still trapped between his teeth. “You kissed people, went to parties, had fun… so? You’re twenty-three, Lix.”

“God, you sounded old right now.” He snorts first, then he shakes his head, quickly going back to a wistful expression. “Dunno. Seems like a lot, like too much. Like I am too much.”

“You’re not, come on. You went with the truth ahead, didn’t you? You didn’t lie or give people fake hopes.”

“No but…” Felix trails off. He releases an exhale. “I just hope you know I’m more than this . That everybody knows. Yes, I like to play and dance, and I like my dress and my skirts and… all of that. But I’m more than that, I’m not… I’m not… cheap .”

“Felix,” Chris gives his hand a squeeze to keep his attention on him. “If I thought something like that, I’d be not too different from that piece of shit I just kicked out. Please, don’t offend me thinking that’s what I’m like.”

Finally, Felix giggles. Sure, it’s a little bit weak but it sounds good and his lips tug up on a smile that makes his nose wrinkle. Chris pats himself on the back for making it possible.

“Thanks for that, by the way. For standing up for me and kicking him out like that. I didn’t know that side of you, it was…”

“Coarse?” Chris tries to complete when Felix lets the sentence float. “Sorry, baby.”

The cheerleader shakes his head, his voice is a bit restrained when he speaks. “No. Hot.”

Now that is surprising. So surprising, in fact, that Chris has no idea how to react.

He chuckles and it almost sounds like he is choking. “No it wasn’t. What?” 

“It was hot.” Felix insists. “There are certain things I find atractive.” He shrugs, as if trivializing the thing with the simple explanation. He pulls out his phone, looking briefly at the screen. “I should start moving, much to my regret. I gotta get to my next class.”

“Already? Okay… What do you have?” 

“Studies of language in early education. I gotta make it back to my school building.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Oh… really? I mean, okay.” Felix tucks his hair behind his ear. “They have to see us around together, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The match is in six days.” 

Chris nods as he gets up, clearing all the disposable remains of their meal from the table to properly dump them on the nearest bin. 

“Yep.”

He offers a hand to Felix, expecting him to give him the beige puffer bag he is picking up from the back of his chair. Instead, Felix throws it on his own shoulder and holds Chris stretched out hand as they begin to walk. 

He doesn’t correct him. What for? Intimacy is intimacy anyways. With this or that, they’d look like a couple.

Still, as they head out of the room, Chris can’t shake the feeling that Felix's eyes are on him, evoking the sensation in him that Felix is waiting to see if he objects against his move. Maybe he should, but Felix looks so soft right now, vulnerable in a way that makes Chris hesitate. He doesn’t want to take this away from him. If Felix is still shaken after their interaction with that guy, Chris doesn’t want to make him feel like he is disgusting and has something to regret.

He gives Felix’s hand a light squeeze to reassure him. In return, he gets a shy smile as they step into the hallway. Weak, hesitant, but a smile nonetheless. 

_____

Chris catches the glimpse of a cheerleader climbing the stairs of the bleachers while he trains, practicing passes. From the corner of his eyes he catches the blue and white dress, a single bow behind a blonde head holding up a now messy bun that lets the front pieces of his hair get thrown around by the wind and pink lips, curled around the stick of a lollipop.

He snaps his hands around the oval, locking it in place in front of his chest, and makes a 180 to see if his eyes are betraying him.

He hasn’t arranged a meet-up with Felix today, but there he is, on a sweet Friday, plopping down on a seat all by himself. Maybe he is here because Matthew called him. Chris doesn’t remember him dropping by like this before, though. His white cheer shoes come up onto the backrest of the seat in front of him as his eyes scan the field.

His gaze meets Chris’s, and so he tugs the lollipop –a glossy red, heart-shaped candy– from his mouth to give him a smile.

“Bang Chan, I don’t think I said the exercise is over!” Coach’s voice booms across the field. “Keep moving, guys, it’s not the time to slack off!” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry!”

He turns back to his position, in a parallel line to the pitch marking where Changbin stands, with Jisung at the other side. They practice passing while running like this, moving back and forth so the player in the middle can practice catching and passing in both directions. The drill is meant to be fast-paced in order to improve their coordination and agility, so of course, Chris stopping has thrown it off, forcing the other two to do the same.

“Sorry,” Chris mutters, jogging backwards to the starter position.  

"Hey, come on,” Changbin says with his lips curving on a poorly concealed, fond smile. “It’s not like this is your first time seeing him."

"No, I just… I didn't know he'd come today."

Changbin cooes at his words almost mockingly. Jisung, ever the instigator, does the same in a fully mocking tone. 

“What?” Chris challenges, raising his eyebrows and looking at his friends down his nose. That seems to persuade Jisung to stop, but it doesn’t work as well with Changbin.

“So it’s a surprise, eh?” he says as he skips on his place, bringing his knees to his chest to warm up again. “How do you feel about that?”

Chris flushes, his eyes darting to the oval on he’s spinning on his hand, trying to dodge the mix of frustration and embarrassment that his friends’ attention is making him feel out of a sudden.

“How do you want me to feel?” he says, an awkward squeak –a short laugh– creeping in his answer. “Flattered, I guess? He took the time.”

Changbin laughs. "You are disgustingly in love, aren't you?”

“Love?” He mutters under his breath.

Love is not real, Chris knows this. He didn’t at first, but he learned it along the way.

One day you are head over heels for someone, planning in your mind how your holidays are gonna be, how you are going to introduce them to your parents; and the next, they have broken all the plates of the mental house you share and everyone tells you to forget them. That's it, there's no more to it, rip your heart from your chest and drop-kick it, make it go between the posts while all the feelings are still throbbing inside. 

Like nothing ever happened.

Because nothing ever happened. It was all in Chris's head, nestled between the hundred thousand childish fantasies of true love he had been raised up with. 

It’s almost laughable, really, how much he had believed in them –chocolate hearts, polaroids on the headboard, slow-dancing in the kitchen… infatuation for someone so cosmically perfect for you that you call them your other half– how much he’d let it define the way he was. Damn, the way he is , he hasn’t even grown out of that filthy greed, the desire of the big concept from which all those things sprout; something that doesn’t even seem to exist– at least, not for him.

It’s not that Chris is sad anymore. He is not even angry. What he feels when he thinks about it is more like a dull ache, stemming from the empty space of a bullet hole on his chest. How can he miss shit he never had? He never had flowers, chocolates, fireworks or anything, but he deluded himself in the tranquility and the physical intimacy. He even made himself believe the growing silence was domesticity developing, until it ended up in absence and then poor excuses, lies… the entire grand finale with a drumroll of shit for the cruel joke of his love life.

The morale of the story dawned on him only when he was a crying mess on Changbin's couch, tissues pressed on his face while Changbin and Jisung witnessed the disaster with sorry expressions. Love, true love, is not real. Love it’s a fleeting thing, like a sugar rush –he had concluded once, months later, while reading his class notes–, filling you up fast and bright with a delicious euphoria only to suffer a subsequent crash that leaves you feeling empty and beaten.

It’s not worth the time, and definitely not worth the pain.

“I don’t know…” he mumbles, and he hopes the shiver of doubt he hears in his tone passes as shyness. 

He tosses the oval to Changbin, resuming drill to leave these thoughts behind. He can’t entertain them now, he needs to concentrate, it’d be too embarrassing to trip over his feet right now. 

When Changbin finishes his sequence, they switch positions and Chris takes his turn at the central line, the hardest one. 

He knows Felix is watching him.

Jisung throws the oval in his direction. "Do you want to go greet him? Changbin and I can start the next drill ourselves." 

Chris catches the pass, pivots and launches it the other way. Changbin snatches it with ease. 

"Yeah, we can have you join later, just don't take too long, you can’t skip tackling drills.”

The ball comes back to Chris with precision. The muscles on his shoulders start to hum with the rhythm of the drills, hair curling at the ends with the rising humidity of sweat. Catch, throw, repeat.

On the bleachers, Felix has bitten the candy from a corner and the heart has snapped in half. He sucks the broken piece into his mouth.

Chris catches the ovall, then throws it again, hard enough to send it spinning to Jisung. 

“Maybe after this,” he says, a little winded despite his familiarity with the strain. “I could use some water.”

“Now he cares about hydratation?” Jisung says as he catches the shot, dropping his voice into a mock-serious tone. “The more you know.”

Chris huffs, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips. He’s not surprised, slipping into the banter is easy with his teammates and easier with his friends –Jisung and Changbin fall in the center of that venn diagram.

A sharp whistle cuts through the air, signaling the end of their passing sequence and all groups begin to shuffle to the next thing as the coach shouts instructions. Jisung slaps the ball into Changbin’s hands, his eyes lighting up with a competitive flare. He knows he’s fast. In retaliation, Changbin feigns a step forward before they even get to their position, causing Jisung to jump with a squeal.

Chris laughs at the antics, walking towards the sidelines, picking up a random water bottle from the grass and taking a long swig.

He tilts his head at Felix, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Princess,” he greets in a teasing tone. Felix smiles at the nickname, his spine straightening up. “Why have I the honor of your visit?”

Felix scoffs. He is seated on the second row, not higher up on the bleachers like the day they ate together or when Chris came to see him. From there, Chris can hear him without raising their voice and see how Felix’s eyes scan him as he approaches, taking in the image of him in his uniform. It has nothing special –and less if it’s compared with Felix’s current pretty dress– it’s only a tight blue shirt with a white collar, white knee-high socks and, since last week, short shorts. White, with blue stripes on the sides.

There’s a loud crunch as Felix chews the candy in his mouth, cracking it up in pieces he can swallow. 

“The match is approaching, I have to be brilliant at my role…”

“You didn’t have to, you know?” Chris gently asks, leaning over the bleachers’ fence with his crossed arms.  

“I do, but I’m ambitious. I like to do the things I do well.” 

“I guess I can't say anything against that. But won’t you get bored?”

“Bored,” Felix echoes. He shoots another glance at Chris, one that makes him startle with the strange flutter that raises in his chest. “No, I don’t think so.” 

The moment hangs there, suspended for a second until a yell, followed by a groan and then laughter, comes from behind Chris’ back, cutting through it. Felix’s attention snaps away from Chris as he looks over to the noise. And a couple seconds later, so does Chris.

Jisung has made it through the barrier of people and picked the oval waiting on the grass, but once he had to make the way back to finish the sequence, Changbin has met him head-on and Jugyeom has closed him in, hooking an arm under his thigh to drive him up. He is about to fall back on the grass, trying to wriggle himself out, but he’s half complaining and half laughing in the grasp of his friends, the oval clutched in his arms. 

Felix chuckles under his breath.

“I should go,” Chris says, already pushing himself up from the fence. He can see the coach is staring at him –no, at Felix– with a forbidding face that Chris doesn’t quite like. “See you later?”

Felix nods, eyes briefly meeting his again, making the flicker from earlier return to Chris’s chest. “Please.”

Chris hesitates for a second before he’s jogging back to his group, running a hand through his hair and trying to act casual while he still senses the weight of Felix’s gaze lingering on him.

The transition back to the game rattles his head, with his coach shouting instructions and urging him to link back and ‘stop playing pom-poms like silly girls’ . It makes a bitter taste coil in his stomach, piercing through the humming sensation that still occupies his body and pushing him to change gears. He gets in line and blends back into the rhythm of the training, not with much difficulty. Coach is just too stressed by the proximity of the match. It’s in three days, after all, and this is their second to last training before it.

He shouldn’t take it out on him, though. He shouldn’t take it out on Felix.

His mind keeps drifting towards him. He is still seated where Chris left him when the training is over, watching the team wrap it up without a sign of moving to leave. 

Changbin arrives before Chris –wiping the sweat from his brow as he walks to the sideline– can. He is standing just like Chris was before, with his arms dangling from the fence, and engaged in a lively conversation with the cheerleader. 

“... so how did you see it? Because I have the feeling you’re going to be coming more often.”

Felix giggles at the teasing easily as if he doesn’t know that that’s not going to happen. 

“I don’t know,” he says, all sly. “I might, but you need to start giving me a better show, Binnie, you are playing too safe.”

Chris lets out a loud chortle, arriving just by Changbin’s side to lean on the fence as Felix finishes the sentence. He gives Changbin a clap on the shoulder.

“Oooh, Changbin” he hoots, earning a disapproving gaze from his friend. 

“What do you mean too safe?” He complains, his lips pressing into an almost pout. “I’m not playing safe! I just do what I have to do! What do you even know?” 

Chris leans closer. “Felix knows plenty, he watches all the games.” he taunts. “And he must have seen Matt play another hundred times before uni.”

Felix nods with amusement. “You pass a little too much, are you scared to get tackled or something?”

“I’m not– what the hell!?” Changbin snaps, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Chris erupts into laughter, and so does Felix, both of them clearly having a great time at Changbin’s expense. 

Changbin, indignant, turns his head away with a scoff. 

“You two are ganging up on me.” He murmurs with that faint pout on his lips. “Matt!” he calls out to the captain, currently walking over to them. “Come here and say something to you little brother! These two are being disrespectful!” 

Matthew, hearing Changbin’s call, strolls over with a grin on his face, clearly in no rush to spoil the fun time he has clearly catched on already just by the pout on Changbin’s face and Chris slit-like eyes. He leans on the fence next to Chris, taking in the scene with an easy smirk.

"What's going on here?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“These two are just insufferable as a couple.” Changbin grumbles, pointing at Chris and Felix respectively. “They are insulting my style, as if they could do better.”

“Hey,” Felix smirks, but his expression promptly melts into a mask of innocence. “You asked me first and I was just giving you my constructive criticism.” 

"Constructive my ass," Changbin mutters, crossing his arms before his chest .

“No, come on, let my man Changbin alone,” Matt says with a chuckle. “He’s a beast flanker and puts hella work on what he does.” 

“Yeah! Blindside it’s just an overlooked position,” Changbin adds quickly and, frankly, loudly, eager to defend himself. “It’s not as flashy but it’s grunt work. You think you could do better?”

“Ooh, Felix, that sounds like a challenge.” Matthew grins with both fondness and mischief as he looks at his brother. “You’ve been talking big, maybe it’s time you show us what you’ve got."

The insinuation catches Chris short with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “Oh... you wanna come down and play with us, Lix?” 

Felix’s eyes widen slightly with the sudden turn of events, and a mix of uncertainty and curiosity swipes behind them, like a small wave as he glances between the three rugby players in front of him to finally settle on Chris, something like a quiet question there. Chris feels an unexpected anticipation curl in his chest, a flutter of something unspoken building between them. It’s like Felix’s weighing his options, or more like he’s trying to read the answer off him, as if the ultimate decision between taking the bait or backing out is pending on Chris. 

“Do you want me… to play rugby?” 

“Hey, what? For sure!” Jisung butts in, coming up next into the cluster of men gathered in front of the bleachers. “Are you thinking about playing some rounds with us, Felix? It sounds so fun, bring it in, sis , come on!”

Felix chuckles under his breath, giving another look at Chris, still seeking for something like permission –or maybe just a sign– whilst more members of the team turn their heads at them and start nodding or playfully challenging him to come down and play. 

The idea of Felix out there in the familiar patch of green behind them, playing beside them, feels... different. But it doesn’t feel wrong, not close to that. It becomes just… exciting, more than it should be.

“Yeah, baby, come on,” His voice comes out a little more subdued than he intended it to be, which earns him a teasing eyebrow lift from Changbin that he chooses to fully ignore. “Give it a try. Something tells me you’ve got an ace or two up your sleeve.”

Felix shrugs with a smile. "Alright, fine.” his eyes glint when they lock with Chris’s for a moment to then bounce back to Changbin. “But don’t come crying later if I put your style to shame."

Changbin lets out an endeared snort under his breath. Felix’s tone has been about as intimidating as a fluffy white rabbit.

“Hit me with your best shot!”

Instead of walking around all the way to the gate when he gets up –pulling his skirt down just enough to keep it in place–, Felix hoists himself up onto the fence, swinging his leg over the edge. Without thinking, Chris offers his hand and Felix takes it as easily, the brief touch sending a jolt of warmth through him as Felix lands lightly on the grass, still holding onto his hand when he gives a little bounce and then shoots into the field flanked by… well, fun enough, Changbin and Jisung, the team’s flankers.

Chris picks up an abandoned oval from the sideline with a little sigh and follows behind them, having Matthew join him and nudging him playfully on the shoulder.

"23 years, and I’ve never been able to get him to play rugby. Who would have said all it would take was you?" 

Chris doesn’t answer, Chris lets himself smile at the taunting words, knowing Matthew is coming from a place of appreciation rather than mock. And what would it say about him if, just for a second, Chris feels a spark of pride. 

He launches the oval into the field, trying to not spin around the matter more than necessary. Immediately, Jisung jumps to catch the pass midair with an easygoing mood that he misses the most during demanding periods of training with the university team like these. He starts to move as soon as he has the ball in his hands, avoiding Changbin’s approach in order to tackle him while Felix moves to a surprisingly good position for a pass, bow bouncing behind his head cutely. 

Jisung makes his pass to Felix,  who catches the oval under his arm, his posture effortlessly confident as always. The way Felix moves –quick, fluid, and with that ridiculous smile– could turn anything into an effortless show. Chris watches him intently as he dodges Changbin when he spins on his foot and makes for him. He avoids his hands by a hair, squealing when slips on the grass, his cheering shoes lacking the cleats to keep him steady, He starts to to laugh, light and free, as he panic-throws the ball at his brother, who only catches it because it’s coming right in his stomach’s direction and he has to stop it, thrown a bit off balance when it hits him anyway.

“It’s everyone against me or what!?” Changbin bleats the moment Matthew charges into the field attempting to run forward with the ball. “Fuck off!”

Chan laughs at his friend’s annoyed tantrum, watching him run right against Matthew. He gets pushed on the chest by the giant wall of muscle and speed that Matt is when he attempts to tackle him, but far from giving up, Changbin holds his hips as he falls and drags him down to the ground with him. Matt passes the ball back to Jisung, though, who jumps over the two men crashing on the grass and runs forth with the ball. 

“Come on, Felix, show him!” He yells over his shoulder, tossing the oval to the cheerleader, who happily catches it with the biggest smile.

That’s what it's all about, isn’t it?

Obviously, the rugby team is going easy on him, making it just a game for Felix to have fun even if he knows the basics of the game, some sort of improvised occasion of bonding for them all. And  Chris can't shake it off, the rustle of happiness rising to his throat at how much Felix seems to own the moment, how everything suddenly revolves around him in this strange way that has a wave of thrill licking up his spine. 

Felix is running, ball in hand, and Chris feels he has to join in. And he does. He starts to run behind both Jisung and Felix, stepping in to become the second member of Changbin’s team.

His heart is pounding on his chest. 

Felix turns, with laughter bubbling in his throat, and as soon as he sees him his eyes widen.

“No!” he shrieks, bolting forward and trying to run faster.

It’s well known that Chris is one of the fastests motherfuckers in the rugby team, and although Felix is pretty fast, Chris cuts half the distance that was separating them in the blink of an eye. 

“Chris!” Felix yells, breathless.

Chris can feel his own laughter rising to his head, enveloping his thoughts as it laces with Felix’s.

“Kick it!” Jisung shouts his advice at Felix as the latter barely makes it to the 22-meters line. “Between the posts!”

“I don’t know how to do that!” Felix answers between laughs and pants. He has Chris on his heels. "Ah!!"

Chris obviously doesn't tackle him, that would be rude. When his arms get around Felix's waist he lifts him instead, spinning him with the momentum as Felix screams louder, laughing like a kid on the beach.

“Chris! Christopher!” He yells, slapping a hand back and curling his fingers on his shirt, as if he’s afraid to fall and eager to find purchase onto something, anything. He weighs nothing. His legs bend towards his chest, nonetheless. Maybe it’s the instinct to put them off the way so they don’t tangle with Chris' and makes them fall on their faces. 

Chris can feel the vibration of Felix’s laugh pressed to his chest, traveling through him as he twists his body to gently throw Felix back on a very loose resemblance of what a tackle, his own body following him on the tumble and making him bend at his waist, his arm planted by Felix's face to keep him above him.

Felix lands on the turf with a surprised grunt, but it’s amused, light. His legs are sprawled out beneath Chan and he’s still laughing. 

“You idiot,” he gasps, slapping Chris on the arm, and there’s that wild spark on his eyes again. So bright. “I almost had it!” 

The inner part of his lips is glistening, tinted cherry red from candy, like his tongue, painted with the same color as the lollipop. His breath smells like artificial strawberry, sugar melted on his tongue, and for all that's worth, Chan is no better than feeling the reaction pang through his body, hot and unstoppable. His mouth watering, the temperature of his blood rising.

He’s sugar-rushing. 

“Fuck.”

The word slips out of him, barely a breath. Then the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. His heart stops, his face flushing as he has to turn his face away, tearing his eyes from Felix before he jinxes it.

The match is in three days, goddammit .

Felix props himself up on his elbows, his eyebrows pinching at the middle. "Chris?"

"Are you okay?" Jisung’s voice cuts the air as he comes through with a heart-shaped beam before Chris can answer, completely unable to read the room in perfect Jisung’s fashion. 

“Yeah...” Felix breathes out, eyes flickering between Chris and Jisung. “Yeah.”

Chris chokes on the feeling, getting it lodged on the back of his throat like a piece of metal. His insides are all warm, his thoughts tousled together. This part of his life –this lie, this game– has always been a spiteful creation, something he had crafted himself to bury a memory of the first and last time he tried to hold onto something unreasonable.

Dazed and silent, he offers his hand to Felix and helps him get up on his feet again, the tension growing so thick that Jisung shrinks, at last, shifting the weight uneasily from one foot to the other. 

Great, even he has noticed. Perfect. What’s wrong with Chris?

_____

“Are you going to rot in bed all day?”

“Hmm?” Chris yawns, stretching his arms over his head. “Not all day, but maybe all morning…”

On Sunday, sleep debt kicks Chris on the ass. 

The bout of poor sleep that he has been generating from the beginning of the weekend makes him wake up feeling like he has been steamrolled, and he's lucky that this time he still has a day to recover before classes start and then the semi-final arrives with all its subsequent adrenaline and fanfare. He’s been playing with his phone without much thought since he opened his eyes three hours ago.

On the other hand, Jeongin has gotten up, showered, done his 10-steps skincare routine while he retouched the streak of bleached hair and put together a curated outfit. He’s now gathering his things in his bag, thick-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and all. 

“So, you really don’t wanna come?” He asks. “There’s this new trendy place that serves greek yogurt and you can choose the toppings. I’m going with Seungmin and Changbin.”

“Another time,” he mutters, still scrolling aimlessly on his phone. “Thanks for the invitation, Yen.”

“Sure.”

KHU’s social media manager has been posting reels about the upcoming semi-final against Yonsei. He sees a familiar handle at the bottom of the caption, tagged to the video where the rugby team is asked what someone attending the match could expect. 

‘Expect defeat, imbecile.’  

“Are you going out with Felix later?” Jeongin asks, casual as ever.

“No, I don’t think so.” Chris catches the glimpse of a frown at the corner of his sight. He lets the hand with his phone fall limp on the bed to look at Jeongin properly –but rubbing his bleary eye. “What? We don’t need to see each other daily.”

Jeongin was frowning indeed, and frowns slightly deeper now. “No but… you didn’t see him yesterday, either.”

“I was busy.” Chris says, because that’s the truth. He spent the whole Saturday catching up on tendonitis treatment papers. He doesn’t think about how it feels like a relief to not have seen Felix for the last couple days. He shifts on the bed, the edge of his shirt clinging uncomfortably to his sweaty back. “And he’s busy too, preparing for Tuesday. We’ll see each other at the match.”

Jeongin seems to hesitate for a moment, then shrugs. “Sure. Just… you know not everyone is like him , do you?”

Chris doesn’t need to ask who Jeongin is talking about. While Jeongin is a freshman, he has spent a couple years in pre-med, enough to have witnessed the drama his new roommate went through mid-semester. 

Chris’ jaw tightens, but he forces a casual tone. “I know Felix is not like that ,” he says, feeling the words heftier than they should. “He would never.”

“Righ,” Jeongin concludes with a soft smile. He doesn’t push it anymore, picking up his keys and heading to the door with a last wave to his senior on the bed. “See you later… Take a shower, while you’re at it.”

The door makes a click when Jeongin shuts it behind him and it’s only then when Chris allows himself a deep exhale. He stays there, staring at the blank ceiling as a weight of uncertainty settles down on his stomach.

Everything's fine. The match is making him anxious. 

Everything is fine.

He’s over this. 

_____

Chris hasn’t seen the stadium so full for a match before. Empty seats have started to be a rarity since the past ten minutes as people flood in to the rhythm of Lee Minho’s pop song of choice currently blasting through the sound system. 

Matches are never just that in Yonsei, they are a whole event. 

Two clear, separated zones have surged around the field. One is the familiar crowd of electric blue and white –with shirts of all kinds from the university’s merch shop, jackets and flags. The whole catalogue is there– and the other is drenched in white and burgundy red, head to toe and as committed as their opposites. 

It’s too soon for the competitive chants to be started, but air is thick with the thrum of rivalry already, but the group of students in the first row behind Chris from chugging a cup of beer each as if their particular goal is to get wasted before the oval starts moving. 

When Chris sits on the grass to tighten the ties of his shoes, he gets wet with dew.

The days is kind of cloudy, the smell of fresh grass raising to meet that of sugary foods being sold outside as the players are arrive, their bags hanging from their shoulders and their cleats pounding the metallic floor of the bleaches as they come down from the gates, talking to this and that acquaintance for a moment before they go and scatter across the field. The calm before the storm, in a way. 

Chris’s lungs fill with anticipation with every breath he takes. He likes this, it makes him feel like he is part of something amazing. But still, after five years, he gets nervous every time. 

He has one more reason this time, too. 

Felix seems to have contagiated of the hectic spirit around them. He is at their team’s side of the field’s perimeter, walking in Chris’ direction with his equipment fully on already. Clean cheering dress looking brand new, white sneakers, and a purple blotch on his inner thigh from getting holding up too tight in thr formation –Chris hopes. His hair is pulled up in two twisting buns behind his head that leave spikes of blonde hair out, sprouting from the signature bows. He’s wearing makeup, but it’s not as bold as it’s for the other girls. There’s no false lashes, no colorful eye-shadows or winged eyeliner. It’s subtle enough that one wouldn’t really notice if not used to his bare face, so Chris can’t place much besides the blue and white tiny hearts drawn on his cheekbone. 

He makes a funny face when he sees Chris is looking, keeping eye contact as he pulls a couple of dance moves to the song flowing from the speakers. 

Shivers and cold champagne

I get the shivers every time you say my name

He stops his step to dance with a grin on his face, being silly for the sake of it. It must be some kind of tiktok choreography or something, judging by the simplicity of the footwork versus the upper body movements. 

And I can tell that you’re all in 

‘Cause I can hear your heart beatin’

It’s hard for Chris not to get a smile on his face when Felix is purposely putting on this show to make him laugh. He has something in him that makes it work, some sort of sunshine energy Chris can’t explain. He huffs, looking away and pretending he is embarrassed with Felix’s antics, which only makes the cheerleader giggle even more when Chris comes back around with his phone on his hand to film the silly display. He schools his expression for a moment, feigning seriousness that only lasts a beat.

Padam, padam, I hear it and I know

Padam, padam, I know you wanna take me home

Padam, and get to know me close 

He walks again as his hands dramatically wave to mimic the heartbeats, and his hips –those hips– sway to the playfully sensual beat of the music. Dangerous. He knows how to move, ‘and not only to cheer’ , Chris notices with heat creeping up to the tips of his ears.

Padam, padam, when your heart goes  ‘padam’

Felix slaps a hand over his mouth when he can’t hold his laugh in anymore, and his cheeks tint with a dark shade of pink, making him quit the act and rush towards Chris once and for all. 

The video goes straight to Chris’s instagram, it’s not the moment to be satisfied with half measures.

“Hey.”

“Hey, what was all of that?” he teases.

“Warm-up.” Felix says, not missing a beat. “You liked it, uh? I can see it in your face.”

Chris puts his hands up in mock-surrender. “Ah, you got me there. Guilty.”

“Oh…”

Surprisingly, Felix’s eyes soften, as if Chan’s words just revealed something new to him, something he had never heard being told to him, which is ridiculous as a concept. He is Felix . Anyone with a moment to look at him would know he’s dazzling, it’s not like it’s a secret. It’s not like the whole world could have kept it a secret from him.

"No, don't sit there, it’s wet," Chris stops Felix’s attempt of sitting on the grass in front of him with a hand around his forearm. "Here, better." His fingers brush over the inside of Felix’s wrist as he lets it slide to lace their hands and lead Felix towards the bleachers. He helps him up on the metal platform placing the seats above the field, a hand on the curve of his waist, holding him for just a moment longer than necessary, to steady Felix when he jumps onto it. 

They are now sitting next to each other, settling right in front of the feet of those seniors that were chanting their favorite songs before. Chris doesn’t have to worry about them, they are Matthew's friends, Somin and a few others, so he knows it's safe for Felix to be here.

Their shoulders are touching, their legs dangling above the field. 

“Thanks.” Felix breathes out. His eyes flutter right after he speaks, as if he wasn’t planning to let out the word in the first place.

“Your dress is too pretty to let you ruin it with mud and grass stains.” He replies with a simple shrug. But that’s not what he wants to say. That, he swallows it and hides it deep in his guts, flickering his eyes away. 

He stares out at the stadium as it gradually fills up to full capacity, lost in thought for a second. The silence that installs between them feels like a thread pulling them, tighter, tensing. 

“Are you nervous?” Felix asks quietly, his tone something foreign to Chris and everything he knows as he tries to make the thread snap.

Chris exhales through his nose. “You’re learning to read me.”

“And that's bad?” Felix asks, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“No, it’s not,” His sigh tapers into a chuckle. “Yes, I’m always nervous before a match, it’s something that doesn’t truly go away. It’s not bad, though, I enjoy the thrill. I may sound a little crazy, but I think it’s part of the experience.”

“No, I get it,” Felix says, a soft smile curling his lips. “It happens to me too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I mean, with a reason, right? You get thrown up in the air like confetti.”

Felix laughs. His foot clashes against Chris lightly as he swings them. 

“You speak as if your sport is a chill ride and not 30 guys fist fighting for a ball on the mud.”

“Hey,” Chris protests, wrinkling his nose. “It’s not a ball, it’s an oval. Completely different things.”

“Right, my bad,” Felix says. “That changes absolutely everything, rugby is chill. Should we start teaching it to toddlers in daycare? I’ll write a paper on the benefits of tackling on early childhood.” 

“Baby, I didn’t know you’d get free credits for speaking an extra language. You’re fluent in sarcasm .” 

Felix proceeds to smack him, but Chris catches his hand before it even lands, tutting at him between laughs; though he lets go of him easily when he tugs himself free. 

“I meant that, being anxious as I am, feeling the good type of nerves is something I kinda like to embrace.” Felix resumes, pushing his bangs behind his ear. “It reminds me that an emotion can’t kill me.”

“You’re anxious?” Chris is surprised. 

“Hm? Yeah,” he says easily, although there’s the hint of a frown. “Ever since I can remember.”

“Oh, I see. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Chris quickly clarifies, waving his hands. “You just don’t–” he cuts himself off when he realizes how stupid his sentence is about to be. ‘You just don’t look it’ . He knows there’s not a look to it. “You’re so confident and like, positive, that I wouldn’t have said it. You are literally like the sun.”

Felix freezes for a fragment of a second, and then lets out a small, flustered laugh as his eyes avoid Chris and focus across the field, where the red team is finally coming down from the gates. 

“Thank you. I built it throughout the years, but you know how it is… the cracks are still somewhere under all that, in the foundation, and sometimes they like to act up. I pretend in those times, when I’m not trully feeling it.”

“Fake it till you make it?”

“Something like that.”

“It must work,” Chris muses, almost like thinking out loud. “You’re so easy to be around, Lix.”

Felix laughs, but it’s tinged with something else. “What are you doing? Stop it.” He grunts playfully, his eyes squinting in that endearing way, though there’s a tightness to his voice 

“I’m sorry, I know I’m cringe sometimes,” Chris apologizes with a grin. He shakes his head and glances out across the field, his gaze falling on the players gathering around the bench at the other side, getting ready for the match. “But I also want to be your friend when this is– oh, look, there he is," Chris eyes narrow as he spots him, the core of everything. 

He doesn’t mean to say it like that, so cold and sudden, but it comes out like a reflex.

Felix jolts awake next to him, most likely triggered by the sudden shift of tone in his voice. His gaze snaps to the direction of Chris’s pointing finger to land on a man with a KyunHee uniform. He's got long wavy hair, golden skin, a full sleeves of tattoos. 

"That's Jungkook. My ex.”

One breath. Two breaths. The silence would be a void if it wasn’t for the noise of music and people all around them.

“That’s him?” Felix asks flatly. Chris is not used to hearing him sound so grim, and it’s not sure if he likes it. 

“Yes.”

“That’s the man you were dating.”

“Yes.”

Felix goes stock still, the playful warmth of a moment ago draining from his posture. Something’s off. His eyelids drop, like he’s processing the information Chris has just thrown at him. 

“I shouldn’t say this,” As he speaks, Felix's eyes don’t move from the man in red. A knot settles in Chris’s stomach. “But… god, you had it coming. He looks even more fuckboy than you do.”

Chris snorts humorlessly. “You’re not wrong this time.”

Felix gives a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Was I wrong before?”

The joke is there, but it’s hollow, a mask that doesn’t quite fit. Felix pauses, his gaze still locked on Jungkook. He lets the air out through his nose. “Where did you find him? I never asked, how did you end up dating a guy from KyunHee?”

“He wasn’t from KyunHee before,” Chris explains with a shake of his head. “He was here in Yonsei, I met him in the team. You know? Locker room time got interesting,” He scrunches his nose at his own attempt at humor, not fully feeling it. “We were on for an entire semester and a half, but when we broke up he transferred.”

Felix whips his head around to look at Chris with round eyes. “Mid semester? Just like that?”

“Crazy, right? He is loaded,” Chris concludes with a shrug, trying to look nonchalant. “He probably paid a quantious sum, just to get me out of sight.” 

Felix stops again, makes his own version of the pitiful looks people used to give him when it happened. 

“Hey… at least you kept your team.”

“Yeah, that’s true, I couldn’t have kept playing with him in the same team. It’s a shame, though, he was seeing two other guys when he was with me… but hey, he was a skilled fly-half.”

“Ugh, what a total dick, no? I kinda wanna beat him.”

“I would pay to see you beating a rugby player while wearing that dress and the cute hair,” he reaches to tug gently at one of Felix’s buns, but Felix weakly slaps his hand away, still holding on a bit of playfulness despite the ghost of unease hunting them.

“Stop it, you’ll mess my hair. Yeji worked hard on it.”

Chris relents. He is about to withdraw his hand, but before he can, Felix’s own comes over the back of his and his fingers lace with his, pulling them down together to rest on their thighs.

Chris freezes for a second, caught off guard. His words don’t flow when he looks at Felix to ask him what he is doing.

Felix meets his gaze, his expression unreadable, but there’s a quiet resolve in his eyes. “He’s right in front of us, we better do what we came here to do, finish the job.” 

Oh. Right . 

Felix is holding up his end of the deal. This is what it is. His thumb flicks over Chris' knuckle for a brief moment, before his hand slips away completely. He shifts, his smile soft but quiet, almost like it’s an afterthought.

“Thank you, Lix” Chris pushes the piece of hair that always slips out behind Felix’s ear, accompanying the gesture with a soft smile. “I gotta go now, I have to join the team and get ready for the match, and you probably have to do the same. I’ll see you later.”

Felix leans in slightly, turning Chris's stomach into knots and twists. They might be stealing each other’s air right now. “I’ll see you during,” he jokes softly, but still tinged with that little edge like sadness that's all wrong on him and doesn't belong to the shiny Felix Chan is used to. 

He doesn't know what he has done, what he has potentially said, but he knows he has done something to make Felix this way and he wants to scrub the feeling off.

“Cheer for me, okay?” Chris mutters, and he can’t explain why the words that are coming out from his mouth are more airy than he expected.

Felix smiles. “Of course.” 

The moment lingers just a little too long before Felix finally steps down from the platform, waving at Chris and turning toward the field, jogging to the corner where his team is gathering. 

Maybe Chris was the problem all along, maybe he doesn’t have another half because he is too much to bear –like he used to say. 

Maybe Chris is simply not made for this. 

"Jesus christ, you're so pathetic," Jisung's voice tears him off from his thoughts. He blinks and sees his friend standing near him with his hands on his hips. "No one’s taking that effing cookie away from you."

"That's not how the meme goes." He replies with a mumble.

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Get your ass over here, we're starting warm-ups.”

Chris easily decides to follow Jisung in joining the team without the need of convincing. This is everything he’s here for, after all. The match is the most important thing in his hands right now, would have been regardless of the situation, and those things are not a mere joke for the ambition rooted deep inside Chris’s personality. Wanting to win is like wanting to breathe, for him. 

But the fact that he knows the opponent team’s number ten only makes it worse.

He would rather be hit by lightning than losing this match. All the effort he has put in looking good today and all his work with Felix would go down the sewer if there’s not a victory to support it. To prove himself. 

Their warm-up is only two minutes old when the background music fades out, the last notes of Beyonce’s One Night Only blending with a generic jingle under the commentators retransmission. 

《Well, hello there fellow Yonsei students, and big welcome to our guests from KyungHee University, too. I hope everyone is having a great time already. This is your MC Lee Minho for today’s match, here to walk you through this beautiful mess we call Rugby College League.》

Minho’s voice –half nonchalant, half sarcastic and entirely hilarious– rings out through the speakers installed around the stadium, marking some kind of official start to the event. It’s like a proof that everything is real, and about to start, for that matter. The crowd knows it now, a thrum of conversation and cheering and whistling taking over the bleachers and enveloping the field, vibrating like a living thing.

《By my side is Mr. Kim, who’s also here to comment on this interesting evening.》

《That’s right, Mr. Lee, today we are going to be facing nothing less than the league's semi-final. It promises to be an exciting match. KyungHee is making their first-ever push this far into the competition, but the red team is coming up strong. I wonder if this has anything to do with their recently adquire number ten. Mr. Lee, did you know he is a former Yonsei student?》 

Chris glances across the field and finds a familiar pair of eyes staring back at him. His eyebrows furrow, and he feels a twitch of a muscle in his jaw. Those eyes that look at him are challenging, as if Chris had anything to prove. He doesn't. All his faults were trusting the wrong person and believing in fairytales.

The team forms a circle, and the coach starts to give them a firm and quick speech. It’s not instructions anymore, the time for that has passed. This speech is about them locking in, trusting their skills and teammates, and having a good time as they take the victory home. It boosts the team’s adrenaline levels, somehow, or at least that’s what Chris always feels trickling into his body when this moment comes and dragging him into a feral absorption. 

《Of course I know, his departure was a loud bang. It left empty holes in the Yonsei team, especially when it came to certain members. Let’s just say we can’t expect our number eight to go easy on our rivals today.》 

Oh, fuck Lee Minho. He is right, but fuck Lee Minho. 

Suddenly, the crowd whoop and the music comes back to a louder volume. The cheering team walks in into an organized line at the sideline, advancing into their positions with their marching routine only to start a high-energy choreography as soon as they hit the perfect formation at the center. The crowd sings to the song, the cheering team a blur of bows and breathtaking smiles from where Chris can see them between the heads of his teammates. His heart is trembling. He slams his hand into the center of the circle by pure instinct as the team’s battle cry breaks the air. Changbin’s massive arm comes around his shoulder, pushing Chris forth as they both laugh. It’s a stupid, mindless laughter, a side effect of the thrilling energy of the team fans getting louder and making a bigger commotion of Chris’ nervous system.

“We lost the coin toss,” Matt informs, sprinting to the back of their formation. “Get ready for their kick-off.”

Of course. Of course it’s him who has to start this game because of course he is the kicker of choice in his team and the one who steps to the halfway line and has the audacity to smile –smirk– at Chris when they make eye contact.

“I can break his nose and make it look like an accident if you want me to.” says Jisung with a forceful exhale. It’s supposed to be a joke, but Chris knows all it would take to be serious would be a word.

“No, play fair.” he answers.

Because, surprisingly, Chris feels nothing . No rage, no excitement. Only a ‘why are you here?’

He feels more for the game, when the whistle blows and the game starts. The thrill of the confrontation swallows everything. Screams explode from all points around the field and before he realizes, Chris is running. 

“Come on!!!” 

He hears Felix’s deep holler crack through the noise and he doesn’t know if it’s meant for him or for his brother –number thirteen, who leaps and snstches the oval for their team before it even touches the ground– but his heart cartwheels. Matt makes a pass, and Chris is quick to twist his body and begin his race to the other direction, once Matt has dodged the defense, just in time to load it off before he smashes against a red guy and lands with his back on a muddy puddle, his breath hissing out of him.

“Oh my god!”

Chris finds Felix’s yelp amusing. There’s nothing to worry about and he lets him know with a quick wink and a smirk as he springs back to his feet. He hears the trail of Hyunjin snickering when he leaves.

They are up to a big start. Yonsei opens the scoring with a fourth-minute try scored by Matt. However, KyunHee quickly begins to strike back, first with their own converted score with the very Cockroach getting in at the posts off a scrum and a huge dude from his team converting.

From there things in the first half start going downhill. Minho has, as always, done a good research and KyungHee has indeed come with a strong game to the finals. 

The fight is relentless on both sides, a tangle of bodies –getting slippery with watered-down mud– and raw emotion. The score tightens, setting Chris on edge and making him feel like every second is a countdown to either glory or the most shameful defeat of his life. 

He can’t have that. He is sure he can’t have that.

And then it’s twenty-sixth minute and Jisung –the fucker – is given a yellow card for coming through with a leading elbow that knocks a redhair over. The stoppage is brutal: both sides of the crowd are screaming, Jisung and the coach are arguing with the referee, and the redhead, bleeding from his broken eyebrow, is being patched up.

Fuck. If the card goes through, their team will be down a man for ten precious minutes, and then the opening half will be over. 

It’s not looking fine for them.

“Shit, Jisung!” Changbin grunts. He is annoyed. “We’ll have to put this man on a leash.”

Chris sighs, looking at the sky before his gaze snaps towards the sideline, pulled like some kind of magnet despite himself. Felix is standing there, looking like an angel in a spandex dress, quietly paying his whole attention to the argument between coach and referee, like all his squad. Chris starts to feel sorry. If they lose, all the flawless work he has done for Chris will go to waste, the effect dampened by their defeat. All the effort that he gave to Chris… getting trampled underfoot. 

“He went with his hand, come on.” Hyunjin huffs by his side, crossing his arms as if he’s a petulant kid in disagreement with his nanny. 

“Hands don’t make your eyebrow bleed.” Chris exhales, running a hand through damp hair as he settles by them. He knew he’d surprise them, but the quick turn of their heads and their open eyes makes him chuckle all the same. 

He picks up a bottle of water, not missing the way Felix looks at him as he gulps down half of the content.They don't say anything for a moment, but there's a surge of something that Felix ignites in him as his eyes linger. A quiet, unspoken thing. 

“I’m sorry. This is embarrassing.”

Felix’s brows, delicately arched, pull into an almost imperceptible pinch.“What is?” 

“You know. All of this…” he points between Felix and himself. “... Just to be falling behind KyungHee.” he replies, and although it sounds simple, there’s a whole scope of the situation summarized under it. “Kills the mood, doesn’t it? You deserve better.”

“No,” Felix gasps, grabbing Chris’ bicep. Chris' head jerks up to stare at him, a hint of shock in his eyes that makes Felix let go like he’s been burned.  “I don’t need– You’re all playing well. It's only the first half, you still have time to make this grand. I’ll cheer harder.”

Chris snorts, entertained –endeared, even– with the way Felix is always so stubborn to help him, as if this was something personal to him. Chris wonders if Felix realizes how he sounds and how he makes this look, sometimes. Wonders what would mean if the answer was ‘yes, he knows’ .

“Okay,” He tilts his chin up like he’s daring Felix. Maybe he is. Maybe, he needs to know the answer to his own questions. “Cheer harder.”

Felix breathes in, gasp for air so delicately  Chris can’t hear it, but he sees it –feels it– and something shifts within him. The optimism rekindles, flickering to life despite the surge of booing that comes in the Yonsei bleachers like a tidal wave. 

《And, as expected, that’s a yellow card for our beloved Han Jisung, with a penalty strike given to KyunHee for alleged violence and verbal aggression against their number six, ten and eleven. The Yonsei crowd is not happy, Mr. Lee》

《And with a reason. We are one point behind already, should KyungHee score this penal, they’d be most likely coming out of the opening half ahead by 15-19.》 

Chris smacks Jisung’s ass a bit too hard when he crosses him on the way back to the field, a thing he more than deserves when KyungHee bags the three points of that penalty strike, and still lighter than the scolding he takes during halftime. 

The coach is not happy, that’s an understatement. 

The tension is thick as the team huddles before the bench, everyone trying to catch their breath while they get yelled at by his stressed out coach. Chris runs a hand over his face, wiping the sweat and mud off. There's a latent burn in his lungs from the non-stop sprinting and pushing, but something else is gnawing at him, something that’s been creeping in during the last few minutes of this rap on the knuckles.

Felix had been watching him. Watching him . There’s a feeling rising in his chest, like a pulse beneath his skin. Felix’s words echo in his mind: ‘I’ll cheer harder.’ Well, then Chris will have to play harder. He is already missing the halftime performance, pulled in the spiral of Jisung's sulky argument about him going in with a leading hand and not his elbow, he has to make this worth Felix time. Chris needs to let him go off this deal with nothing to regret.

He returns to that field with a lot less restraint in what’s already a ferocious in-game attitude, usually. 

“I swear it was my hand, my forearm at most!”

“Bro, it doesn’t even matter, you tackled over the shoulders!” Changbin says, throwing his hands up in desperation. Jisung pouts and so Changbin sighs. “It’s okay, it’s just a yellow, just… don’t try anything funny today, okay? Get in position for the kick-off.”

Jisung sighs, his shoulders dropping a little as he settles in his position and Jugyeom gets ready to kick the ball.

"Hwang Hyunjin told me I should employ my dirty mouth for better purposes," he says with a frown when he makes it near Chris, causing him to almost choke on his spit. Jisung looks at him with his teeth tugging his lower lip. "You know what's that about?" 

“It’s about him wanting you to score ,” Chris replies, giving his oblivious friend a little push on his shoulder from his spot behind him. “Let’s catch that fucking ball.” 

Jisung nods one, then the whistle is blown and the game restarts with a quake. Boots on grass. Here they go again, storming across the field to the sound of a sideline chant from the cheerleaders, clapping and stomping to create a beat that the crowd follows easily, calling for the Eagles to shoot that ball. 

It’s been a while since the last time Chris played a match so even. Minutes slip by and yet, it seems like there are no points from either team, only a carnage. Yonsei attacks are relentless now, the players putting everything they have, trying to turn the score around at all cost; while the red-and-whites are too asphyxiated with their defense tactics to have a chance of widening the gap. 

By the fifty-fifth minute, the silence breaks with a loud cheer from the rival team’s side of the stadium, as their fifteen manages to slot a drop goal through the posts that adds three more points to their score. Their own cheerleading squad jumps on each other’s arms, celebrating the goal with hugs and laughing in the pure delight of pride. 

It’s not a terrible gap, not unsalvageable, but the weight starts setting more and more on their shoulders. With each pass, each push forward, the clock is closer to eighty and threatens to close the game with Yonsei behind despite their home advantage.

The crisp claps and stomps and chants don’t back down, though, echoing in his ears. 

Felix’s voice has an inconfundible cadence to it that stands out in the swirl of noise. He hasn't given up, and Chrid realizes just then that Felix is as greedy as him. Under all that dainty image, he is fiercely ambitious when it comes down to achieving something, so Chris can't just... surrender, because this work is not only his, it belongs to Felix, too. 

The oval comes out of a scrum, and KyungHee’s fly-half –Jungkook, Chris ex-boyfriend, his only attempt at love and the one who showed him there’s no such thing as your one and only–  grips it as though it's his only lifeline. 

"Don’t let him get through!" Chris grits his teeth, his body jolting out of the formation and tensing with anticipation of the collision.

If not for ambition, for spite. If not for spite, for liability. He is going to make this one way or another, perhaps for the three of them combined. 

Dokyeom –the tall center, handsome and tanned– is already galloping in parallel to him to get to stop him, the rhythm of his sprint falling almost in sync with the sideline chant. But Chris is closer. That means he’s the one who’s going to make contact first.

His move is by the book. His arms are outstretched, hands closing around a distantly familiar waist. But the unexpected –wait, no, this is betrayal, and it was widely expected– happens. Jungkook twists, angling his shoulder and bending his knees just right to catch Chris directly below the chest, unforgiving. ‘Solar plexus, soft and hosting a compilation of nerves' Chris thinks before the clash shoots the pain straight to him and throws him completely off balance. But there’s no time for weakness now. He doesn’t let go of the man, he drags him down with him.

The crowd makes a collective ‘oof!’ sound as they both hit the floor.

From the turf, his ex angles his head up to meet his vehement eyes. “Long time since you don’t toss me around!” 

Chris feels the heat rise to his face. Those words are far from being flirtatious, they are meant to be a low blow to his dignity. He pins the red half-fly to the ground, pressing him down. His chest hurts, but it’s nothing compared to the burning rage in his chest. His eyes are locked on his face and the smug look plastered across it.

Dokyeom comes over them to steal the ball and the game continues forward. He passes the oval to Changbin, who knocks off an attacker with a powerful push of his arm. 

When he hits the ground Chris is already on his feet again, running with all his teammates like a unit pushing in the same direction as they pass and dodge to try and break through the barriers that separates them from the try line. He opens, widening the horizontal distance they cover to get away from KHU’s defense. The halfway line is under his feet when he catches the sight of Jisung receiving the oval and braking on the spot. 

Chris knows he has had an idea, and that is terrifying coming from Han Jisung. 

The ball hits the ground, bounces. 

"Run, you fucker, run!!!" Jisung screams at him as he kicks the ball and sends it flying on a high arch that has the entire stadium standing up and screaming. 

Chris' eyes open like saucers but he’s already running. He hasn't stopped doing so. His legs burn, his heart is pouncing.

The oval bounces in front of him, spinning, but his hands close on it just as the heat of an opposing player warms him from the side, attempting the same catch as him. Chris sees him approach it faster, reach for it, touch it. And so Chris launches himself forward, ramming onto the guy and rolling on the mud as they both fall. He’s breathless but he doesn’t lose possession. 

He's going to get tackled. He knows without looking, feels the approach and the weight looming over him before it hits. He rolls to the side, hardly avoiding the guy that slams onto the grass by his side. 

He screams, he knows he does. He sends the ball flying to– he doesn't know who, he doesn't have time to read his face, only knows he’s blue-shirted. Dokyeom. Chris recognizes the number printed on the back as he overtakes him and gets raided by two reds, slammed onto the floor with them.

"Fuck!!"

Changbin charges into the ruck, chest first, and then there's Chris again, picking the ball from a tangle of limbs. 

They are so close, almost there.

The crowd is a throbbing roar, the screams in every side and every corner as Chris runs with all eyes on him and the members of KyunHee closing up on him at high speed. He's not willing to back down. He kicks the oval between two sweaty bodies, slams through their opening, running in time with all the men that forget their previous intention to tackle him to chase the tumbling oval that bounces on the grass.

And Chris, he is faster. He kicks the oval again, sees it bounce on its corner and elevate high up in the air.

"Go, baby, go!”  Felix’s voice rips through the noise, a little guttural, and fills his ear with that deep wave of sun-heated enthusiasm. “You got it! You’ve got this!!" 

Then Chris's hands are on the ball, he catches it on his arms, not stopping his race. 

"THERE!! THAT'S MY BOY, LET'S GO!!!" 

His breath catches in his throat, he leaps forward and doesn't even feel pain when he hits the grass, water sprinkling around him as he slides forth and crosses the line into the in-goal with an eruption of cheers all around him. His heart bursts in his chest, pride flooding him in from within with such intensity it has to go out through his lungs in a triumphant scream. He springs back to his feet to slap the ball away, caught in his euphoric trip.

The crowd is on their feet, his teammates colliding in celebratory hugs, the cheerleaders– god, the cheerleaders jumping on the sideline's corner and applauding with all their might, with smiles that blind him. Felix, of course. Felix. Chris is his boy, goddammit. He's so happy, so proud of Chris, somehow. Chris can see it on his face, on his sparkling eyes because he is so close and Chris is running to him, getting closer. 

He can't breathe, he can’t think, when they clash on a hug that Felix receives with open arms and blurs the world around them. The force almost knocks the dainty cheerleader off his feet but Chris holds him on his waist, shielding him against his chest and his head follows the curve of Felix's as he falls backwards, diving in and trapping Felix’s lips under his.

He tastes him on his breath. He is kissing Felix, and the stadium splinters around them. 

Chris is out of his mind for doing this but he doesn't think about that. He doesn't think about anything. It’s just the rush, the greed and Felix sliding a hand into his hair, fingers threading through wet, tangled curls. Kissing him back. The knot in his chest tightens, snapping, as Felix’s soft lips move against his consume every sense of direction he could still vaguely hold. 

He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. Damn. He hasn’t felt like this in his whole life.

The only thing that makes him pull apart is the instinct of survival that his body automatically forces out when he needs to breathe, badly. He opens his eyes, his chest heaving, and meets Felix’s gaze. His eyes are wide, his pupils trembling and his lips slightly parted. And then Jisung is jumping on his back and moving him over. Off Felix’s hands and his reach. 

《...Mr. Bang Chan! As I said he had no mercy to give today, what a chase! This has turned the scores around with a 20-19 in favor of Yonsei and a try to convert in no less than minute sixty-eight of the semi-final!》 

He gets dragged back to the field for the convert. The game is not over and has to continue despite Chris getting his consciousness slammed into his head again, with the weight of what just happened following suit like a tidal wave that puts him under. His pulse is still erratic, his mind buzzing with the shock of the kiss, the warmth of Felix's lips against his.

He turns to Felix, left in the sideline with a hectic Hyunjin by his side commenting on the play, and his eyes on Chris –still on Chris–, a storm of questions flickering on his face.

Matthew scores the convert with ease and the crowd’s roar rises, deafening, but Chris struggles to get his head back in the game as it keeps wandering back to Felix.

Felix never questioned him or his stupid scheme –because maybe this was a stupid scheme all along, now that outrage has washed out of Chris’ bloodstream–, and that made it become an excellent plan after all. The rumor was alive, people believed it. And now, Chris has cracked open a whole new can of worms with that kiss. What just happened between them, was it for the show? Had his mind auto-piloted to it because it was the right timing, a picture perfect moment of glory to rub on someone else's face, or did he just... want to? Kiss Felix, it seems like a thing anyone would die to do. That thought should scare Chris, but it doesn’t just… out of how natural it seems. It feels like it was supposed to happen. That should scare him even more.

He’s supposed to focus on rugby until the remaining ten minutes of the match burn through, but how can he when everything around him feels like… like it’s shifting.

They end up being the longest ten minutes of his life, followed by a swirl of chaos and cheers when the ball dies one last time and the match ends at eighty-three minutes with Yonsei taking the victory. 

The cheers from the crowd drown out everything else. His teammates are ecstatic, shouting and high-fiving, the energy contagious. Chris latches onto it, letting it pull him so his brain can stop overthinking. He claps Changbin on the back, sharing a sweaty hug with him as they laugh without restraint but they can’t quite get to Jisung, who’s been caught in a sea of pats and hugs for trying that reckless kick and risking it all with the timer so close to the end. 

Thank god they made it. 

The red-and-whites are moving towards their bench with dissspointed faces and Chris takes a sick pride from it. The build-up of tension finally flows out into relief. He had to prove to everyone, most importantly himself, that he’s stronger than the way his heart had been crushed all those months ago, and this is it. He’s fine. Mission accomplished.

The bleachers are filled with celebration, waving flags with the colors of the team and chanting the most loved school hymns.

Chris feels at the top of the world right now.

He wants to soak in this moment, falling back a little as the celebration of his teammates starts to move to the locker rooms just so he can appreciate everything. The chants, the commotion. Let it sink in his bones that he has done this and this glory belongs to him.

He’s going to be fine.

And then he feels it. Felix’s presence behind him, dodging past the throng of people gathered in the fields –as some people, friends and lovers of the players, have jumped in to share the joy. He looks over his shoulder and meets Felix’s gaze again, a soft, knowing smile tugging at the cheerleader's lips. 

“Hey” Felix says, his voice low but somehow still louder than everything else around them. He steps closer, leaning in just enough that Chris can feel the heat radiating off him. Instinctively, he opens one arm and allows him in a brief hug. It envelops the entire Felix. 

"Hey, Lix."

They separate. Felix looks at his sneakers for a moment, as if he was checking if some of the muddy water has stained them throughout the event. However, when he looks up at Chris, there's something soft in there. He gives a weak shove at Chris' shoulder with his fist.

"I told you you could make it. It was an amazing game, Channie, congratulations."

"’ Channie’ ?" He asks, a little teasing.

Felix shrugs, his eyes briefly shifting to the side. "Why not? I still like Chris more, but it's cute."

Chris chuckles softly, but his heart does a little flip. He doesn’t know why, but hearing Felix say his name like that makes him feel... something . 

"I'll take it. You know, because I owe you one. You said you'll be cheering harder, and you did. And it worked."

"Was it really me?" Felix asks, playful, but with a definite curiosity behind the question, like he wants Chris to say something else. 

All the lines appear to be blurred now.

Chris opens his mouth, trying to make sense of all of it, but the words don’t come out. It’s all tangled up with his thoughts, with the thrill, with the confusion. He swallows, forcing himself to breathe. Before he makes out his mind to be competent enough to speak, Felix takes a small step back, his smile shifting to something more thoughtful. 

“I should let you go celebrate with your team now. You’ve got a whole victory to enjoy.”

Chris watches him for a beat longer than he should.Something in the way Felix says the words makes him want to keep him here, keep him close. He takes a breath, steadies himself. 

"Yeah," he says slowly. "But I’ll stick around. I could catch you later, yeah?"

“That’s fantastic to hear.” Hyunjin butts in, making both men jolt out of the trance to look at the taller cheerleader approaching them. The top of his uniform is pretty similar to Felix’s –tight, flexible and sparkly fabric that hugs his well-defined arms– but with fewer sheer panels, paired with matching pants.

Felix frowns. “Hyunjin?”

“Hey, what’s up?” he says with half a smirk, unbothered. “I was thinking… the mood is too great to let it die yet. Let’s take it to my place and celebrate. It’s off-campus, so it should be fine. I’m inviting people from the rugby team and from our squad, I can count with you two, right?”

“Oh,” Felix mutters, his lips twitching into a soft smile. “Really? Are you hosting an after-party.”

“Kinda. I mean, it’s gonna be chill so it’s not like a party-party, but we’re going to the finals, nothing less, shouldn’t we celebrate like it’s due?” His eyes flick between them both, like he knows exactly what he's doing. He has no idea, though, it’s worse than he can muster right now.

“Of course,” Felix says, and stares at Chris with a small tilt of his head. “You coming?”

Felix stares, waiting for an answer, maybe even a little antsy although he tries to cover it squeezing his hands together until the skin under the pads of his fingers turns white. Chris wonders if Felix is thinking the same thing as him, right now, that maybe tonight’s about more than just a victory. That maybe it’s about something else. But no. Chris quickly pushes that dangerous thought aside, a quick jab of unease stabbing his stomach from the very inside of the organ. Felix is just being Felix. He’s always been this way –warm, supportive, a little flirty even. It’s part of the act. Part of the show. He agreed to help Chris with this whole fake-dating thing, and that’s all it is. A favor, a lie . 

“You have to come,” Hyunjin adds, making fake-cute doe eyes at Chris. “I invited Han and I know he won’t come if you and Changbin don’t come. Ah, yeah, well, and you’re Felix’s boyfriend and all of that.”

Chris scoffs at the antics. “Sure, I’m in.” he says, trying to be as casual as possible as he grabs his bag. “Just give me a second to shower and change, I’m covered I’m mud.” 

_____

Chris has been staring at how Felix looks wearing his varsity jacket over his dress for five minutes straight. He lent it to him when he said he was cold as they waited for the bus, a choice he is coming to regret as he sees how obscenely big the piece is on him. That's not being good for Chris. Realistically, he knows he's not the biggest man in South Korea –he would sometimes refer to himself as funny-sized, the small bottle where perfumes are kept– but compared to him, Felix is even smaller. Not fragile, but just... delicate. And the image is revealing new things to Chris about himself. 

“Chan,” Jisung calls, joining him in the corner of Hyunjin’s mega-packed living room. 

Chris has wondered a couple times since he arrived half an hour ago, what a party-party is for Hyunjin if this is just the chill version of it. Now, Hyunjin is a known social person, a hit at events when he gets in the mood, but Chris has never been directly related to him or his parties until today. 

He lives up to his fame.

Chris can’t complain about his predicament, he has been to far worse parties than this. The music is actually good –that much is kind of expected from a majority of cheerleaders fighting over the Spotify jam’s control, leaving the jocks mostly out of it– the alcohol they had managed to gather in such a limited amount of time is kind of impressive and the mood is good. 

The space of Hyunjin’s limited but chic officetel is buzzing with a mix of rugby players, cheerleaders, and friends of either or both sides, flooding the living room area with the blue and white of the uniforms.

Chris is not that much of a social butterfly per se, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to go out and have fun. On the other hand, Jisung seems a bit more out of place, wincing at the taste of whatever drink has made it into his cup when he settles against the wall, next to Chris.

“Hey Jisung, how’s it going?”

“Decent, I didn’t get overstimulated yet,” he says with utmost naturalness. “But let me ask you something, do you think Hyunjin is trying to hit on me?”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “Man, nothing gets past those keen senses, uh, Sung?”

“Wait, really? He is?” 

“Yep.”

“But he…” Jisung frowns as his voice trails off. It’s tremendously amusing to watch this happen, to a point where Chan can’t contain the smirk as he looks at his friend, apparently navigating a pool of confusion. “He’s hot.” He ends up muttering. It appears to make something click because he straightens and begins to speak louder. “He is hot. And a cheerleader. He is a hot cheerleader.”

“Yeah, I guess. Objectively.” Chris laughs, witnessing Jisung’s turmoil first hand.

He turns to look at Chris with that combination of round eyes and pursed lips that make him look like a squirrel. “Help, what do I do?”

Chris laughs harder, or more like higher… with a squeak. “Go talk to him?”

“What?”

“I mean, are you interested?”

“I– well, I–” Jisung stutters, dumbly looking across the room where Hyunjin is animatedly dancing in a circle with another three verh animated guys. “I think so.”

“Then go talk to him.” Chris repeats. 

“Talk to him? But I don’t… do that. I don’t know how to do that.”

“You sure? Because you are talking to me right now, and you even started it, why wouldn’t it work with him.” 

Jisung chews on his lower lip. “But this is different. You are you and he is… hot. What if I say something dumb and he thinks I’m a weirdo?”

“First of all, wow , thank you for that.” Chris says ironically. “And second… he knows you are a weirdo, but I don’t think he minds. Think about it, he is already hitting on you, right? Doesn’t that mean he likes how you are?”

“I guess so?” Jisung looks over at Hyunjin again, who’s laughing with his friends. “I dunno... What if I freeze? What if I want to say ‘hey’ and ‘what’s up?’ and I mix up my words and end up saying ‘hup’? It’s not the first time it would happen.”

“That’s not gonna happen, trust me. Just go to him and say something like ‘hey, Hyunjin, sick party, thanks for inviting me’ or something. It doesn’t have to be super complex.”

Jisung lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “You make it sound so easy...”

Chris softens. “It is, Sung, you just don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, taking a deep breath through his nose, eyes locked on the cheerleader. “Okay, I’ll give it a try, but you’ll owe me 14K won if I say ‘hup’”. 

“I absolutely won’t.”

“Fuck you.” Jisung says but there's no real heat in it. With a final, exaggerated sigh, he pushes himself off the wall. 

Chris leans back slightly against the wall, crossing his arms and silently rooting for his friend as Jisung awkwardly but determinedly walks across the room. Hyunjin’s eyes light up when he sees him, then they hood and darken. 

“Matchmaking?”

Chris’ body nearly jerks. With the distraction of Jisung and his attempts at getting laid, he hasn’t seen Felix approach him. 

The blonde lets himself fall sideways onto the wall, resting his shoulder exactly where Jisung had been a few minutes ago, although he is facing Chris entirely, making him feel somewhat caged between Felix’s tiny body and the corner. 

“Hyunjin invited me to this party for a reason,” he jokes in response. “I might as well help him get what he wants. Besides, Jisung is not good with alcohol, I have to double down as his liquid encouragement.”

“What about you? Are you good with alcohol?”

“Pretty good, actually.” Chris laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Felix grins “Yeah? Let me treat you, then.”

Technically Felix won’t be treating Chris to anything, as all the alcohol of this house has been bought by Hyunjin in collaboration with a few other people and the cost will eventually be split so everyone can send their –probably elevated– part of the price. However, Chris nods and allows Felix to drag him through the throng of people that has gathered at the core of the house, pulsing with the music for a mostly poor attempt at dancing, or for becoming part of a completely chaotic circle of chatting that rustles around them as they push through. 

The room hums with an easy, carefree energy. The couches form an L against the wall, with a window on the far side offering a wide view of Seoul’s bustling nightlife outside. Watercolor paintings, some abstract and others simple landscapes, are taped to the wall, full of colorful flowers and blurred renactions of romantic scenes, maybe imaginary or maybe part of Hyunjin’s memories. Chris takes a seat on a sage green couch he would be scared to stain if it wasn’t for the calm carelessness of the people sitting on the other spots. Changbin is one of those people, balanced on the armrest of a cream sofa, his voice booming over the music.

“No, I mean, I know it was an accidental foul, but it was 100% his elbow hitting him on the face.”

Chris laughs, his gaze sliding across the motley crew, finding funny that the conversation about the yellow card hasn’t died down at all. 

“If we’re real, it could have happened to any of us.” Yugyeom says.

“Yeah, but it’s somehow always Han Jisung,” Changbin huffs, shaking his head in mock-dismay. “And he called the ref a motherfucker so, there’s no defending him here, I’m going to smack him.”

Chris chuckles under his breath, muttering a sarcastic, "Seems legit," his gaze flicking to Felix as he hovers over a nearby coffee table. The jacket covers his dress entirely so, from behind, it looks like he’s wearing only that. 

But Felix doesn’t seem to notice Chris heavy gaze on him, busying himself in handing out shot glasses to everyone, his eyes sparkling as he moves fluidly through the group.

“We have to admit a penalty kick at minute 26 was a blow to the team’s morale.” Chaeryong concedes, giving the reason to Changbin for once in a while. “We were already losing the first half, and then— bam!” She says with a clap of her hands, her expression grim for a moment before she shrugs and gives a playful roll of her eyes. “He saved it with that kick later, though. Saviour of the day.”

She gives Felix a teasing look as she takes the glass he hands her, and Felix smirks in return. A subtle blush dusts over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. The exchange reeks of the kind of complicity among teammates they all have experimented before at least once, but there's an edge to it tonight, something a little mischievous in the air that makes Chris shiver. 

Neither of them has addressed what happened when Chris scored the famous try of the day, and Chris finds himself wondering if Felix felt the same way he did or if he just took it as part of their act and ran with it because he is that ambitious.

Which answer would make Chris feel better?

Felix gives another glass to Changbin and then to everyone else in the L of sofas until he’s standing in front of Chris. Their eyes meet for a moment as Felix hands over a glass with a quiet smile, then keeps one for himself. He has brought a very recognizable bottle of peach soju with him and, because he seems to be the youngest, he starts pouring the drink for everyone around the table until Chris takes the bottle from him, their fingers bumping together, to pour one for him, too. He sits by Chris’ side on the green couch, his presence warm and familiar by now, but the weight he brings in when the cushions sink under him seems heavier than ever before. 

“Bang Chan did almost all the work.” Changbin continues with a comically sulky tone. 

Chris shakes his head, a little humble yet fired up by the recognition. “I ran when he told me to run, but he threaded the ball through the defense, so…”

“Nah, nah, don’t put yourself down,” Jugyeom chimes in, still with the glass on his hand because Chris hasn’t drunk his back yet. “It was fucking cool, dude.”

“Yeah,” A black haired girl Chris doesn’t know too well –Yeji, he thinks– says with a smile, throwing a long ponytail behind her shoulder to pick her glass. “We were at the edge of our seats, didn’t even know what to sing, we just held our breath.”

Chris knocks the glass back, feeling the liquid warm him up from the inside. As expected, the entire circle follows him with one swift motion into the drinking journey and cheering at the sweet and smooth taste of peach soju. Felix drinks last, completely attuned with the customs after no more than two years in the country. A clear drop of alcohol escapes his lips and rolls a few inches down his cheek before it gets wiped with the back of his sleeve. 

“Definitely a save worth a feature in the match highlight reel. Oh, I hope Lily got it on tape for the uni’s insta! She got elected as the new social media manager, you know?” Chaeryong says with an enthusiasm that makes Chris think this might not be her first glass. When she laughs, she sticks her tongue out between her teeth. “I hope she didn’t miss it, they would be pissed in KyungHee!” 

“Maybe she should have given the phone to Felix,” Changbin says, unintentionally and without malice when he wears a knowing grin and makes something coil in Chris’ gut. “I’m sure he didn’t miss a beat of that .”

Yeah, there we go. It should have been expected, yet Chris’s throat tightens anyways. By his side, Felix shifts on the couch, tossing the always loose front of his hair behind his ear and giving a casual shrug. 

“Isn’t my job cheering?” he teases, although his nonchalance wavers. And Chris notices . He is at that point where he can notice the little shifts of Felix’s voice just like that. 

“And the job was rewarded, hey?” Yugyeom jests, his fingers toying with the rim of his glass. “You can always count on Bang Chan if you’re looking for a big impact.”

Felix moves his attention directly at the man by his side. His supposed boyfriend. Chris. The tension from earlier returns to settle in between them, unspoken but thick in the air. 

“Yeah,” Felix says without flinching. He downcast a glance at Chris that makes his whole body heat up. He feels like he’s being disected in search of a single clue. “He put on a strong spectacle.” 

Chris blinks, his mind racing, trying to decipher the meaning in every micro-expression of Felix as his glance briefly falls to his glass just to bounce back to Chris in a second. Fuck, that damn kiss is making him spiral, there’s nothing hidden there, because why would it be? Felix kissed him back , but he probably was just playing along, he has always done so, since the very beginning when Chris was spiteful and bitter and everything but desirable. 

He’s still a portion of that man, spending a day way too focused on a ghost of the past. Still the Bang Chan with dark curls, chewed nails and reddish eye bags from delaying his sleep time with the excuse of studying to elude the thoughts that have been assailing him more and more often lately. 

He forces himself to smile. “Stop,” he mumbles at the amused group that surrounds him, pouring a second round of soju. “Can’t a guy kiss his partner?” 

“Oh, Felix,” Changbin snickers, stretching out to nudge him. “Your man is so down bad.”

Felix brushes it off with a laugh, but there’s still something that appears too sharp to Chris. Then, he suddenly stands up, and a small surge of panic seizes Chris. Did he make him uncomfortable? He wouldn’t blame him if he happens to be running away from this, because when has this become so much?

“I’m going to see if I can grab another bottle,” he says casually. “You want something special?”

Chris shakes his head, not thinking when he replies with a "Just whatever you want."

Felix hums lightly, a soft smile playing at his lips that helps Chris shaking off the tension cramping his shoulders.

When Felix returns with the bottle –soju again, flavored peach–, he hands it over to Chaeryeong and folds a leg under himself, settling down so close to Chris he can practically feel the gap between their bodies combust. It's agonizing, and then Felix utterly annihilates whatever space remains writhing in pain when he leans in to whisper in his ear, his breath making Chris skin prickle. 

"Hey, everything okay?"

Chris has his arm around Felix waist, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to comfortably sit this close.  

“Yeah, I think so.” Chris sighs, but the lack of conviction in his voice earns him a little frown from Felix. There’s a softness in the way the cheerleader looks at Chris that almost feels too intimate in the middle of all the noise, like Felix is staring at the real Chris, past the jokes, the crowded room and the lies.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his concern genuine. 

Chris can feel it in the way Felix's hand rests lightly on his knee, just enough to be there, just enough to send a signal. What he feels on his flesh contradicts the things his brain comes up with. If Felix was uncomfortable, he wouldn’t get this close. If Felix was just acting, he would stop as the group falls away, dispersing across Hyunjin’s living room to seek their own thrills and leaving them alone. 

If Felix wouldn’t care… he wouldn’t care . 

“I mean, yes. Forgive me if I’m getting stuck on my thoughts, Lix, today was A Day, I guess you understand.” He says, his honesty being the least he can give to him. “So many things happened. The match, my ex, the plan… It's a lot.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Felix looks down at his hand, fidgeting with the ring he has found on Chris’ finger. He freezes when he catches himself, curling his hand in a fist over Chris' thigh. "How are you feeling?"

Chris wants to laugh at the question and deflect from the fact that he doesn't know how he's feeling anymore, only that every time Felix gets just a little bit closer his breath catches and every feeling he has felt in the past two weeks wants to explode out of himself. Because, hell, this doesn't look fake anymore if there's no public to watch them yet they continue with their unwritten script in an empty stage. And it’s so easy.

"I'm good," he concludes.

“Did I do well, Chris?” Felix asks, almost too suddenly, almost too casually, but Chris catches the slight tremor in his voice.

He blinks, unsure if he’s heard him right. “What?”

“Yes, you know,” Felix continues, his voice quieter now, a little less confident. “With the show.”

Chris' hand subconsciously tightens around Felix's waist like, in the middle of this mess of feelings, his body has a self-mind that decides to betray him even more.

"Felix, you... you were amazing.” He locks eyes with him, and they are close enough that he can relish the details –count the freckles on his nose, and see the way his lashes flutter when he looks down. “Better than I thought."

Felix’s lips press together for a flat smile, a faint flicker of disappointment passing over his features before he masks it with a smile. It’s an almost imperceptible shift, but Chris catches it. That tiny thing, that subtle crack in Felix’s always perfect act, turns the world upside down.

He wouldn’t care like this.

“Well, I’m glad,” Felix says, his voice soft and his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "So did we pull it off, then? What happened with your ex?”

Chris shakes his head, eyes fluttering. None of that matters now. It matters more that Felix is still sitting here, close enough to kiss without an audience.

With a prayer that he’s not wrong and delusional, Chris leans in, his lips finding Felix’s, soft from the get-go, molding to his so pliantly that a shiver cascades down Chris’ spine. 

Felix flinches, their lips hardly separating. “Okay…” he breathes, and Chris feels the heat of his words vibrate against his mouth, rather than hearing the sound. “Okay.”

Felix leans into him again, his lips pressing back, urgent, hungry. His lashes fan over Chris' cheek when his eyes close, making a sweet noise under Chris’ lips. His breath smells like peach, but he tastes just like he did in the field. Sweeter. Like Felix’s mouth. And someone above must heed Chris’ prayers because he can feel how Felix’s hand returns over his, gliding up, wrapping around his wrist as if that would keep him in place forever. So the kiss doesn’t stop. Instead, Felix parts his lips and his tongue, tentative but eager, flicks over Chris’ lower lip, inviting him to deepen the kiss if he means it. 

It’s like he’s been dared to prove it.

Chris shudders at the thought, kissing him again, harder this time, licking into Felix’s mouth with an edge of desperation. This kiss was avidly waiting to happen. And yes, Chris was right, he would die for it. His whole body throbs, seized by a tongue of fire that laps at his insides and fills him like a hot balloon. His free hand reaches out for contact, cupping the back of Felix’s neck, still kissing. Tongue over lips, teeth over lips, tongue over teeth. 

It feels fantastic to lose his mind in something like this, but the last functioning brain cell that Chris has managed to keep active is screaming at him that he should reply with words, start talking things out like a responsible person instead of kissing Felix every chance he gets. It takes him a terrible effort to make up his mind, he’s only halfway there when Felix’s hand slides up his arm, delicate fingers tracing the curve of his shoulder, leaving goosebumps on his wake, until his arm folds behind his neck to bind them together. They are a tangle, resting against Hyunjin’s sage green couch, so hard to disentangle. Chris feels his pulse in his eardrums and knows his heart is about to burst. He forces himself again and, finally, he pushes back... just for his plans to sink like a plomb next second as Felix chases his lips and joins them again, only leaving out Chris' low hum of 'baby' .

The way it sounds –languid, blurry and pasty– doesn't help his cause. 

Felix hums, muffled against his mouth, and Chris reckons desire will consume him in this very living room. Felix lunges forward, as if they weren’t close enough, and leans his comforting weight against his chest, letting Chris squeeze him with his arm around his small waist and his hand trailing up his ribs, encompassing a surprisingly large spanse of Felix, as if all that body is his to decide what to do with it. It’s clearly much more trust on him being responsible with the concession that he deserves.

“Felix, baby, princess,” he tries again, almost begging to be allowed some speech. His senses are ablaze, though, and reduces all his rationality down to a mumble “I just– he’s not you.”

“What?” he gasps, blown out pupils looking at him like he understands what he means but still needs to hear it, louder, just in case he’s still caught in the liminal space between fake and real. 

“He’s not you. I want you .”

The words feel raw, but they’re real. Chris can taste them on his tongue as they leave his mouth, a confession he didn’t quite expect to make, but still real. And Felix must feel it in his bones, because he presses his teeth into his lower lip, his eyes half-lidded, his voice breathless when he says, “Then keep going,” before reconnecting their lips. 

Their breaths mix in the bruising kiss, quick and shallow, as they try to consume each other, to become something more than they have been, and it’s so obvious, out of a sudden, that their greed has stopped being a mere consequence of their distaste for failure. This greed is for each other. Felix is his greed, and it burns through his blood vessels, demanding more the more he gets.

Felix’ leg has ended up over Chris’, and with the other folded underneath him, he’s practically on his lap. Chris can’t fight off the temptation and his hand slips away from Felix’s grip and slides up his thigh, peach fuzz under his palm, his thumb digging in the plush muscle and, drinking up the sensation of skin-on-skin contact to quench this need that has been quietly building up inside him. Felix whimpers, the sound drowned by the music and pandemonium around them, and loops his arms around Chris, his fingers curling on the back of his shirt. 

“But I must stop somewhere.” he says, maybe in an attempt of self-preservation. He catches himself thumbing over the purple bruise on Felix’s inner thigh and avarice gets the best of him, pressing down. 

Felix winces, letting out a half-moan-half-chuckle that drips thickly with lust. His back arches, almost asking for more of that sweet pain, and pulling Chris into a burning ocean of lava with it. His smile is intoxicating as it is, but this version of it is even worse, it makes Chris fear for the deliriousness he’s starting to feel. Felix's hot breath tickles his skin as he dips to suck on his neck.

“Why?” he asks over his skin, but it sounds more like a challenge than a question with his hands slipping under Chris’ shirt, extending appreciatively over his midriff and spreading heat of his touch. “I don’t want you or need you to stop, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Those words knock the little composure Chris had left out of him. His hands tightens on Felix’s thigh, the bruise turning white under his grasp. Felix’s breath stutters against his lips, and the sound he makes travels all the way down from Chris’ head to his groin, feeling the swell of a hard on push against the fly of his jeans.

‘How long?’, he wonders, but he doesn't ask. He can’t speak. 

He tilts Felix's head back, breaking away the kiss so he can mouth along Felix’s jaw, his neck, lower –biting down right above the neckline of his dress. Felix lets out a low, raspy sound that sends a wave of urge through Chris, and then, his hand slips into the back of his hair and grabs , and Chris knows the out loud aspect of his relationship with Felix is over and they need to get out of sight. Right now. And they need to–

He exhales a long, strained breath. His palms fondling Felix’s waist and steadying him.

“Shit,” he grits through his teeth. “I don’t have any condoms.”

Felix chuckles , kisses him again, wet and open. His voice is deeper and darker when he’s in a rush. “Don’t worry, I do.”

“Really?”

“In my bag,” he admits. He seems to think for a second and then he blinks like a lightbulb has lit up above his head. “Come with me”

Gladly, Chris lets Felix pull him through the apartment, his decreasing brain capacity remembering that Felix is as familiar with this house as he is with his own dorm. He moves in a haze, stumbling over Felix with an apparent inability to focus as the cheerleader’s little hands keep tugging the back of his shirt, grabbing his hip and messing up his curls. And, God, he doesn't remember wanting anything as bad as he wants Felix right now. He practically doesn’t detach his lips from his skin the whole time. It’s almost a miracle that they don’t trip over anyone, and probably just a consequence of the short distance they have to cover until they make it to a wooden cabinet-like door –Felix’s back slams against it, as he blindly reaches for the handle that he misses in the hasty first try to open it– and push into a minuscule room that Chris barely registers as he kicks the door shut behind him. 

Felix’s soft giggle echoes through the cubicle as his eyes mischievously meet Chris’. With a casual shrug, he tosses his jacket aside, the fabric landing on top of a… washing machine. They’re in Hyunjin’s laundry room, but Chris isn’t concerned with the details. 

He follows Felix, their lips meeting in a hungry kiss, desperate in a way that feels both urgent and relentless. He cages him against the wall, pressing him closer and if he needs to memorize the shape of his body. He has one hand under his collarbone, one on his waist, and suddenly, he pushes his thigh between his legs. Felix breathes out on a shaky exhale at the friction over his hardening cock, clings at Chris' sides and, in the process, he decides he is going to grab the edge of his shirt, sending a shiver through him when he pulls up. The party going on outside the room feels miles away, reduced to nothing more than the hum of music and the scorching heat building between them. Felix pulls again, and Chris breaks the kiss with a little grunt to let Felix take off his shirt.

"Oh my god," Felix wheezes. He nuzzles the curve of Chris' wide shoulders, running a hand down his abs. The tips of his fingers get past the button of his jeans, and his hand slips lower, brushing the firm shape of his erection under the denim. "Oh my god.”

Chan snorts a laugh, pleasantly surprised with the reaction. That is not one of his insecurities, and it hits him right in the core of his bravado, the part of him that thrives on admiration. He reaches down at his own waistband with one hand, undoing the button for Felix. Or to tease Felix, more likely. 

He makes for an obsessing mixture of filthy and cute, continuing to press onto him, burying his face on Chris' neck and dragging his fingers down into his pants to grind the heel of his hand against his cock.

It's hard to tell who groans louder of the two. Chris is sensitive, he has to admit, and thus his satisfied noise is clear. He is not going for a restrained, unaffected façade; he grinds back onto Felix's hand, moans in his ear, soaks through the fabric of his boxers.

He lets him know.

The blonde lets his head fall back against the wall, trying to breathe, and Chris takes the opportunity to suck a mark on his neck to match the one on his thigh. Very real. His hands trail up Felix's smaller back, feeling for a button, a zipper, anything that lets him take down the barriers between his skin and Felix's.

Meanwhile, Felix is experimentally rolling his hips against Chris' thigh, trying to get some friction for himself and whining when he finds little. His eyes are hooded, looking at Chris, fluttering with the insistent groping and grinding. 

"You're so fucking hot." He mumbles.

Chris hand dips under his skirt, tries to tug it, growing frustrated with the stupid piece of glittery spandex.

"How–?"

Felix huffs, and pushes Chris' chest, making him fall against the door with his back. "Let me do it" he murmurs almost for himself, his tone airy and charged with urgency. "I'm suffocating in these clothes."

Chris can't react before Felix has his fingers hooked on the hem of his skirt and he's tugging the whole dress up, taking it off over his head. His hair fluffs up, a bow falling off to the floor next to the stretchy dress Felix just shed. 

Fuck . 

Chris' eyes widen, roaming over the newly exposed planes of bare body. There is so much to take in, so beautiful he could take hours looking at it, entertaining every corner like a kid lost in a museum way bigger than him, unmanageable. 

"You have a piercing?" The breathless question leaves his dry mouth by accident. With his thoughts in shambles, it's the first thing he utters.

Felix looks down at his own stomach, where a curved barbell crosses his navel, a silver bead on the top end and a glittery sun –of course it had to be a sun– jewel on the bottom. It’s mesmerizing with the quick rise and fall of his respiration.

"Hmm, yeah," he says, as if he's just remembering a minimal thing and not throwing Chris off his axis. "I had a phase in High School. My parents never– oof!"

Chris pushes himself off the door, backing Felix against the wall again, their hips clashing with the impulse.

“ Baby ” he mumbles, cupping his face so he can angle it and devour him, all tongue and lust.

Felix gasps, chasing Chris hips with his the moment he recoils slightly. He is hard. Chan knew he was hard, had seen the outline strain beneath Felix’s skirt, but feeling his bulge against his own is something else entirely. It’s dizzying. He has done that to him, to Felix , only by kissing him. It makes him feel powerful, but in the most selfless, consuming way. The very thought of Felix wanting him this badly is overwhelming, too much to bear, and the sensation of it only deepens as Felix’s hands slide down and get under the layers of fabric to squeeze his ass. An uncontrollable, wild craving surges through him.

“Turn around.” he whispers into Felix’s ear, feels his skin prickle under his palms as they rest on his hips. 

And Felix, he is so flirty and mischievous, that Chris doesn’t expect him to do like he’s told so easily. It’s wicked. He doesn’t even ask what for, and Chris can’t help but kiss his shoulder like it’s a reward. He can’t stop himself, keeps peppering kisses on him, his lips brushing over Felix’s neck, his cheek, his hair, as he guides him toward the washing machine. He’s squeezing his hips on his hands, the force of it almost bruising as he tries to tame the instinct of pushing him around.

“Bend over.”

A shaky gasp makes it to Felix’s lungs. “God, oh god.” he mumbles, his hands blindly resting on the surface of the washing machine, Chris coaxing him with a hand on it too, the other helping him guide his weight forward with poorly restrained urge. “Yes,” He says, almost automatically, as his arms extend gracefully, body sliding easily over the smooth surface of the washing machine, stretching beautifully with a slight arch of his back. “Yes, da–”

He catches himself before he lets the word spill out, tensing under the hand Chris still has on his waist. For the first time since they started kissing, there’s a pause, tense and charged, and filled with their shallow breaths.

“Princess,” Chris starts, the word falling off his lips and making a whole lot of sense right now. Chris got Felix’s fondness of the nickname in the whole gender validation scope but it seems it runs on a deeper level for him, who has ‘some things he finds attractive’. “What was that?”

His hand leaves his hip to skim over his back, two fingers following the slight dip over his spine. 

Felix doesn’t answer. It seems his tongue has tangled over the word he almost said and stayed an useless knot, but Chris is not going to let that one go, no. In a way, it’s for Felix –so he knows he’s good–, but it's more for himself. He craves the sound of it, the sensation of his desire being met, of his sticky, intense personality being not only tolerated but welcomed.

Chris leans over him, sucking the skin above his safety pants in his mouth, biting it a bit too meanly and making Felix yelp a little, slowly coming back from his stupor. 

“Can I hear what you were going to say? Please?” 

Felix weakly clears his throat. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, daddy. ”

Chris exhales slowly. He has to, because if he doesn’t, he’d burst in a pyre of flames and dissolve in the ashes. “ Fuck .” He straightens up to press another approving kiss on Felix’s shoulder, almost patronizing at this point. He rests his face there, feeling the furious pace of his pulse on his neck. Felix is so warm, so soft, that it’s unreal. “Take your pants off for me.”

He swallows thickly, reaching back to pull down the ridiculously short pants that go under the uniform. 

With his arms bracketing his waist, Chris stands up and takes a moment to enjoy the view of Felix beneath him. He is so beautiful. The muscles of his back are toned enough to show under his mottled skin of blushed gold, and it all tampers into a small waist and perky little butt. His blonde hair is messy, but it still holds up something of the two buns shape –one bow still clinging to the hairstyle. She is so pretty, her fingers clutching Chris' jacket under her. It’s the most erotic thing Chris has seen in… yeah, his life .

“Your underwear too.”

Felix turns to look at him while he does it, his lips are kiss-red between his teeth, and Chris stands corrected, this is the most erotic thing of his life. Those huge brown eyes fixed on him like he’s trying to scrape off even the minimal sign of approval from him as he pulls his trunks down to expose his sweet hole. It makes him want to eat him alive. 

But, in fact, that’s what he was about to do, anyways. He drops to his knees right there, offering a grin to his astonished baby before he gives the first lick, slow and deliberate, on the inner side of his thigh where it almost meets his groin, reveling in the way Felix’s gaps echoes sharply through the room, a full body shiver rolling through him as if the mere heat of his breath pulled him in.

“Oh, I’m so spoiled.” he mumbles to himself. 

Chan grunts against his ass, his fingers and thumbs making divots in the plush flesh as he pulls his cheeks apart, dragging a long, curling motion of the tongue that flattens over his hole and licking around the rim to have Felix tensing and moaning for him.

“No, you deserve this, you are my princess. Are you not?”

Felix responds with a higher mewl, pushing his ass back to meet Chris’ insistent tongue, and although he loves it, Chris holds him down hard, jostling him forth into the washing machine. He puts his mouth to work, making it flutter against his tongue, impatiently asking him in. And he is so happy to give in and dip inside, because Felix tastes so good –clean and just like he’s been made to eat up, like real sweetness. 

“Yes,” Felix trembles, his arse trying to clench around his tongue but offering no resistance. “J-just like that.”

Chris replies with another lick into him, deeper this time. He curls his tongue and flicks it, switching between lapping at the twitching ring of muscle and darting his tongue in, slow and sloppy, unregrettably so, until his chin is dripping, his jaw slick with spit. 

Felix’s pants turn into airy moans and they are so pretty that Chris starts to be in pain from being too hard with his jeans still on. And then there are fingertips, three, under his tongue and Felix is staring at him with glassy eyes when he looks up.

“Can I?” He says, his voice hitching with every word.

Chris hums, giving a mischievous lick to the fingers in front of him. “If you ask nicely.”

Felix's eyes flutter. “Can I, daddy, please?”

“That’s what I meant,” he grins. “Okay, show me how you do it.”

“Thanks,” he whimpers, immediately curling a finger into his hole, and his eyes glaze over. Oh, Chan can’t wait to be inside him. For a couple seconds, he even forgets what he’s doing just to watch Felix finger himself open right before his eyes. 

He drags his finger in and out, and he just… takes it so well. But then a sucked up breath breaks Chris out of his trance, as Felix tries to double the digits. 

Chan leans in, letting his spit pool behind his teeth and fall over Felix’ backside. Felix shudders. The second finger slides in with a wet click and his legs shake, his hips doing a mindless little wiggle for more. So Chris goes for it and gives him more, diving in deeper with his tongue between Felix’s fingers. 

With a jolt of his body, Felix instis himself against the pressure, practically grinding on Chris face. He takes his fingers out, dragging the pads over the slick rim, tugging from it slowly. Hips stutter with the withdrawal, his body protesting against his apparent decision of holding back from getting entirely swallowed by the pleasure. 

“I could come like this already,” he says, sounding almost pained and slowing down the pace of his fingers. He attempts something like a chuckle, but is too airy to tell. “And I don't wanna. I was doing this for you.”

Chris feels a swell of pride that bubbles in his chest and comes out in the shape of a dark laugh. He’s sure it reverberates through Felix’s body, with by the way he whimpers and mutters something that sounds vaguely like ‘seriously’ , his voice tinged with restrain. He peeks his head up.

“For me, uh?” 

“Yeah, come up,” He pleads, reaching a hand back to cup Chris' face. He is too far, but still, Chris’ blood is all between his legs so it’s the primal part of him being called. He nuzzles the outstretched hand with a grin as he slowly stands up. “Come in .” Felix whispers, standing straight to blur his words against his lips and meet Chris with a kiss, accelerated and sloppy. “Please, daddy, I want it.”

“Okay, but…” Chris gently turns him around with his hands on his waist. “This way, yeah? Gotta see my princess’ face while she gets off on my cock.”

Nails scratch his shoulders as Felix drowns a noise, nodding. Chris takes this as his cue and hoists him up in the air, easily placing him on top of the washing machine. He’s definitely a cheerleader, because he visibly finds the fact of Chris throwing him around quite thrilling. He leans back, scooting over to lean fully on his elbows. He fists the jacket under him, biting the inside of his lip as Chan works quickly on unzipping the rest of his jeans and pulling them down with his underwear in one go. The cold air hits the wet tip and makes him hiss a little. It feels as swollen as he can remember it ever being, not allowing him the strength to resist wrapping his hand around it. 

He squeaks. And Felix, he whimpers , causing Chris’ eyes to snap up at him again. 

He is quite the sight, sprawled on top of his jacket, his lips –as hot pink and glistening as the head of his now visible cock– curled at the corners and parted ever so slightly, betraying a breathless anticipation. His heavy-lidded eyes are casting a hungry glance down at where Chris’ hand has stopped. 

“Princess, I’m gonna need that condom now.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out, hands flying frantically over the contents of his bag out of a sudden. His chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, the sense of urgency pulsing in the air between them like the beat of the song dominating the apartment outside.

Chris feels woozy with lust as he rolls the lubricated condom on, the feeling of imminence all-consuming. He never thought he would have Fellix like this, never considered it a possibility, but here he is and, for a moment, time seems to slow down so he can take in every detail of this. Felix’s scalding breath crashing against his lips, the way his cock slides across his taint and catches on the rim, their intense eye contact. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen, not because it was a lie, just because Chris is not made for this. He knows better than entertaining fake hopes. But the pull he feels now, this desire, has grown stronger than his caution.

He slides in, his eyes having to close so he retains enough control not to slam into that warm tightness like a savage. His jaw tightens, and his hands twist the fabric of the jacket at both sides of Felix but he forces his eyes open so he can see how Felix is doing, which is almost a mistake because he looks angelic –if angels were extremely pornographic, that is. His eyes are glassy, looking up at him and his mouth is parted in a silent moan. He reaches up to desperately grip Chan’s biceps the further his cock slips past his rim, drawing red lines over Chris’ pale skin with his nails, his thighs shaking and twitching against his hips. He holds him so tight he starts to think Felix may tell him to stop but then he tilts his hips and arches his back and Chris knows how to read an invitation so he presses in the rest of the way until his pelvis meets ass and Felix lets out a big exhale.

It feels like his entire body clenches around Chris, so suffocating he can’t keep his groan inside his chest. He’s throbbing inside those tight walls, holding himself back so Felix can adjust, and it’s maddening to wait but he does it for his princess .

Thankfully, Felix doesn’t take that much time, before he’s humming and trying to rock his hips back and forth to start a rhythm. Chris doesn’t know if he realizes what he’s doing but he can’t stop watching him, reveling in how Felix is growing restless and frantic and letting out quiet, wanton gasps as he tries to fuck himself on his dick. 

He holds his hips down and starts to slowly pull out to pound back into him with force. And again, and once again, each time waiting less time between trusts to meet Felix’s pace. A slurry of moans and gaps crowd in his mouth, settling into a steady but shattering rhythm that draws the most delicious, ragged pants from Felix’s mouth, whispered onto the humid air between them. 

Chris can go faster, he can go harder. He wants to, and he’s too light headed to advise himself against it, shifting his position to hit right on the spot that makes Felix writhe and see stars explode on the inside of his eyelids.

“Fuck!” he moans high in his throat, an octave Chris didn’t know he could reach. It’s under his breath but it’s much lewd just because of that softness. His eyes are too innocent when they blink open to look at Chris behind a layer of unshed tears, too far-gone. “You’re so amazing.”

Chris’ heart cartwheels, his hands caressing Felix’s sides all the way up to his chests and brushing his pretty nippels with his thumbs to pacify him somehow as he’s not willing to slow down but only turn rougher in the way he’s giving it to him. Not when he feels so good and not when he can tell he’s walking on the fine precipice. 

“Can you come untouched, baby?” he asks between pants.

“I’ve never–” he chokes. He can barely thread a few words together to make a sentence. “ Yeh . I think I’m going to.” he heaves. He’s so gorgeous when he’s desperate, flushed and wet. “Daddy, I’m going to .”

“I’m watching, baby.” he reassures, not even thinking his words. “Let go.”

It’s like his words do some magic on Felix, who screws his eyes shut, his entire body contracting with him and convulsing on the tension. It’s fascinating, an intoxicating feeling of power. His hips stutter as the orgasms hits him, cum shooting up fast and hard enough to paint his chest right in between Chan’s thumbs. The pleasure pulses through him in waves, Chan can feel it shaking around him as he slows down a little, letting Felix ride the crest of it without risking him going into overstimulation. 

He doesn’t know where he finds the determination to stop when Felix’s body goes limp under him, because it feels like it’s going to kill him. The jacket is crumpled between his fingers. He feels the air go out from his parted mouth in short clouds of invisible steam, and his eyebrows are pinched at the center.

Felix swallows, regaining the air in his aching lungs and a morsel of his absent rationality. He pushes the hair stuck to his face away, looking up at Chris. 

“Shit…” he mumbles. Fun enough, his softening cock twitches weakly in its pool of cum. 

“Are you alright?” He grits through his teeth, and Felix lips click shut. He nods. “Good. Now hang in there a little more for daddy, okay?”

Something underneath his words sounds more like a warning than a petition, but Felix doesn’t raise a single complaint. Instead, he hums and mewls softly onto Chan’s hair when he leans closer to him and begins to grind into him, the moves not even pulling out that much anymore, focusing on pressing deeper into him and his warmth and rubbing his cock against his walls, letting the slow build-up drip, filling a sensation in his lower stomach that’s nearing a burst. It takes him to a thoughtless plane of nothing but Felix’s lips and tongue against his slack mouth, swallowing his –probably too loud– moans. He’s done for, completely done for. He gives up to the whip of euphoria crawling up his spine, sinking his teeth on Felix’s shoulder to let out some pressure before it makes his head blow out from the inside and, sure enough, his cock blows up seconds later, sending thick spurts of cum out until he feels the condom fill up too much. 

“Ffffffuck.”

His whole body trembles with the shock of one of the most intense orgasms he's had in a good while and depletes his energy, slumping on top of Felix with a sigh and only enough of his actual conscience to hold himself on his forearms and not crush Felix under his full weight.

They stay like that for minutes, catching their breath and letting their pulse become steady. 

Chris feels Felix fingers carding softly through the longer, curled back of his hair. It’s so grounding, a warmth whisper-like sensation spreading from the tips of Felix’s touch all the way down to the marrow of his bones, like a secret. They finally have a secret. He sinks into the scent of Felix for a moment –something warm, like milky honey, wet grass and sweat. The way they fit together is something he didn’t know he needed, a comfort he didn’t expect to feel so deeply and a small chill runs through him from the weight of it all.

“Are you okay?” Felix asks eventually, his voice gentle.

“I’m more than okay.” He admits without moving yet. He has his eyes closed and, in a way, he is afraid of opening them as if that would break the fragile peace that has settled between them. “How about you?”

“I feel great,” Felix stretches a little under Chris. “And like, you were amazing, I’m glad that you went with… uh, you know? The daddy thing.”

Chris chuckles languidly. “In case you couldn’t tell, I’m into it.”

“Oh, I could tell.” Felix teases, not with much heat, though. “I even have a feeling that you went easy with it.”

“We are in a laundry closet.” He replies as a brief explanation.

“Yeah, right… fuck ,” he giggles. “Hyunjin is gonna kill me if he finds out. We gotta get out of here discreetly.”

“I should put my pants on.”

Felix makes a positive noise. “Yeah.”

For a moment, Chris debates if he really wants to move but he concludes he needs to before he starts to be dangerously vulnerable. Felix’s presence is too gentle, too perfect. It’s unlike anything he’s felt before, and  while a part of him craves it, there’s other side that is still hesitant. Guarded. 

He pulls away slowly, his moves still cautious of whatever strange equilibrium is happening between them, and helps Felix up while he tries to ignore the sudden coldness of air in contrast with what has come before. He also tries to ignore how his eyes keep drifting to Felix and his body as he gathers his clothes and puts them back on. 

“Help me?” Felix asks him, unhooking the remaining bow from his hair. He is fishing up bobby pins from his more than disheveled buns and Chris can’t resist but hover behind him, gently pulling out pins to put Felix hair down and fluff it up.

Their size contrasts a lot in this way. Chris is almost blushing by the time he’s done helping him.  

By Chan’s good luck day, Hyunjin ends up not bothering to tell any of them off for defiling his laundry room at the end, because, when Felix and him sneak out of the cubicle, he's too busy in his own corner making a scandalous show that features Han Jisung. 

That night, Chris accompanies Felix to his dorm, and he doesn’t care if it's all the way across campus from his and he has to end up taking the bus route backwards again, if it’s to hang on just a little longer. 

_____

Chris had not moved on, he realizes now. 

Not entirely. 

If he had, he wouldn't have orchestrated such a foolish stage on his behalf. He wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble just to make a point. If he had truly moved on, his ex would have been a distant memory, a chapter he could have closed without  even bothering to spare him a second thought. But he didn't, and it fucks him up now; because it's not only an humilliating realization in hindsight; it's the fact that he can't even regret the whole plan because that would have meant not getting to know Felix. And the thought of that, of never meeting Felix at all, displeases him, makes him bristle like a cat that has been brushed backwards.

Being with Felix is way too easy, and that can't be a lie anymore. It hasn't been for a while, if Chris is honest with himself. Everyday, he had looked at him a little longer and forgotten a little more that he was just a mere prop for a play. That he had ever thought about Felix like that, even if for a little while when he was mad and spiteful, appears disgusting now.

Chris rests his arms over the fence and prompts his chin on top, looking at Felix from a distance. He is practicing handstands with Sana. The rain taps steadily on the metal roof of the sports center they’ve borrowed for the day, the only place where they can practice without worrying about the weather. He's upside down, and his baggy white shirt falls off as he tries to balance himself over two stands.

Chris has to stare at the floor as he tries to blink away the memories of two nights ago.

That had been real.  

The way Felix’s lips molded to his, confused at first, but then… everything. 

Real . 

Felix had just wanted him and Chris… Chris had wanted him, too. No, he had needed him, and that’s what makes it all so much worse, because now that he knows how it feels, he doesn’t know how to walk away from it. Or if he wants to. Or if Felix wants to.

After all, they had been drinking soju and the party's atmosphere around them could have influenced Felix –someone who had confessed on multiple occasions to not being able to stay away from trouble for too long– to be a little more lax with him.

Is it over, then? Chris isn't so sure. That's why he's here.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have mopped and answered his unread texts from Felix to find out where things were supposed to go and end his torture, but it was hard to face the truth: Chris has allowed himself to get swept up in something he swore was a lost cause for him; so he had avoided it as if that would make the problem go away. He was allowing himself some time to think, or that’s what he told himself. In reality, he was just scared of finding something he couldn't swallow, and so he while the water raised and now, with the waterline on his neck, he's here and he’s staring.

Chris’s fingers curl around the edge of the fence, gripping it a little too tightly as Felix’s eyes flicker toward him. Their gazes meet. His arms flail a little, then his right elbow bends and Sana has to help him return to his feet.

What if there's actually a ‘One And Only’ for everyone in this world and he had just misjudged who was meant to fill that spot in his life? He wouldn't have to give up the ideal things he grew up with. 

What if he tries again?

He can almost picture it. Felix could dance in the kitchen, smiling at how Chris stares at him and getting shy over it. That idea sparks a threatening fire that could spread inside of him and consume him, a fragile hope that could be much more. 

If he dares to try.

And maybe that is why he's really here, after walking all the way from the medicine school building under the rain and finding out where cheerleader rehearsals are held when it rains in hopes to catch even half an hour of it, maybe less. Enough. 

His stomach is a violent whirlpool now, a miniature storm brewing inside him. He feels like he should run in the opposite direction but he's anchored to his seat, watching Felix on stupid gray shorts and a white cotton t-shirt, so messy and utterly, effortlessly perfect. He finishes another handstand, this one a little steadier than the last, before kicking his feet back down to the floor with a soft thud. He’s panting slightly, his cheeks flushed from the effort, but the smile that usually follows his stunts isn’t there. Instead, his brow is furrowed, lips pursed into a puckered peak as he keeps staring at Chris.

His heart starts to hammer in his chest, and panic rises in his throat because he is a big, big fucking idiot.

The storm inside him begins thundering, electrifying the air as Felix walks towards him when the session is called off and everyone else starts scattering to stretch. 

As brief as the silence between them is, Chris thinks it's suffocating. Each of his steps feels like a whole minute, and Felix's gaze never leaves his face, as if trying to make sense of his erratic behaviour. 

His chest rises and falls, his breath coming out in a short sigh. "Chris... I'm glad to see you. Are you done playing hide and seek now?" He asks, halfway casual but so not Felix-like, lacking the sunshine warmth that Chris has come to know and grow fond of. 

He feels the guilt crystalize in his lymphatic system. 

"I'm sorry," he vomits the apology, not even trying to form an excuse that would insult Felix's intelligence. "Can we talk?"

"Can we?" Felix fires back, dragging his hands over his eyes, and he doesn't really stop. "I've been wanting to. I've been trying to. Damn, I had started to accept the fact that you were ghosting me. And now you... show up? Looking like this, on top of that." Felix points at him up and down and Chris is ashamed to recognize he has dressed up a bit –with the yellow tank top that Jeongin gave him for his birthday and he has been avoiding to wear outside because the neck is too low, paired with his black trenchcoat with the sleeves rolled up. The cheerleader chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. "Either I'm very lucky or about to live a canonic event in my love life so, tell me, what's gonna be? Because I like you, Chris. I like you a lot. I thought you liked me too, after everything that happened at the party the other day, but then you hit me with ecstatic silence, so… tell me what game you’re playing because I might be on the same page but this whole thing has been getting more and more confusing."

All those words, each more vulnerable than the last, leave Felix's mouth in a rush that anyone else could have pinned to fearlessness. But Chris knows it's raw bravery that makes Felix able to open a crack on his shell to let them spill out, and his heart squeezes inside his ribcage because... what a person.

Chris has to slap himself mentally to not surge forward and kiss him stupid because he can't keep letting his clingy part win and doing that everytime he tries to convey something about his clrly real feelings for Felix.

So he says "I'm not sure you should like me, Lix" with a voice so weak it threatens to crack.

Felix's expression shifts quickly. It starts with surprise, giving way to confusion and ending in something like... sadness, maybe. “What?” He shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with something bleak that doesn't belong there. "Why not? Like… That's on me to decide, don't you think?"

Chris shakes his head, a laugh escaping his lips, but it doesn’t feel like a laugh at all. "Because you deserve better."

"Better than you?" Felix scoffs, humorless. 

“Yes, better! I'm disgusted with myself for using you, Felix. I used you ." Chris says, his voice cracking under the pressure of self-loathing, his nose scrunching as if just the words sicken him. "For a shitty thing, too. To be angry and vengeful at an asshole. I was so caught up in showing everyone that I had moved on and glowed up that I didn’t even realize I could have had something way better if I let it go. I wasn’t even seeing you!" He lets out a shaky breath, two days of held back thoughts tumbling out of his mouth. “So yes, you deserved better, better than being a part of my shitshow.” 

Felix listens to Chris’ outburst without interrupting, watching him unblinking as the man comes apart like a pomegranate bleeding the seeds. It leaves him feeling lighter, but broken at the same time. 

Felix doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, he exhales slowly, and when he speaks again, his tone isn’t sharp or accusing. “This is why I haven’t heard from you for two days after you bent me over my best friend’s electrodomestics?”

“I’m sorry,” Chris says again for lack of best words, his face warm. 

Felix sighs. "Better doesn't exist, Chris.” He says, obscenely soft. “And if it does, I don't want it." He exhales, and then, with a swift motion, he slips through the bars of the fence and sits by Chris' side, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Chris... you’re not the only one who was in for the wrong reasons at first.”

“Sorry?” Chris whispers, caught off guard.

“When you asked me to do all of this fake dating shit with you, I thought it was because you couldn't compromise with anyone," Felix admits, his voice quieter now. "Because why else would a guy like you have to pretend instead of being with someone for real? But now that I know you… you don't really believe it, do you? That you could be wanted."

Chris doesn't have an answer to that, and his silence speaks volumes. His mind is racing, thoughts crashing into each other. Felix is right, though, he has guessed him to the bone. The weight of past fears is too loud to ignore, too consuming.

Felix tilts his head to the side, his expression softening. "I would have done it for real." 

"No, you wouldn't," Chris hears himself say automatically. "You barely knew me."

Felix stops, a flash of hurt crossing his eyes for a moment, and he actually ponders.

"Maybe not," he concedes at last. "Not romantically from the get go. I thought you’d be a nice next mistake, but I wanted you. I would have let you hit, and you don’t seem to think that’s even a possibility. It’s puzzling, because a part of me said yes with the hope that if I stuck around for long enough maybe you'd get down to it. Damn, all of me said yes because of that, it was the main reason." He says with another odd, bitter laugh. He's frowning, displeased with his own confession. "That’s what I mean when I said I didn't have the best reasons to play into it at the start. I’m not that innocent, as to say.”

At those words Chris' world must decide to stop in its axis. No more spinning. Felix had been actually flirting and leading him on all along, in little but real ways. His interest was real , not just a coquettish flare of his personality.

Chris’s heart does something strange. A beat that’s too loud and spreads an unfamiliar sensation across his chest. Hope. It feels foreign, but it’s there, undeniable.

“You wanted to fuck me?” he asks incredulously.

“See? You say it as if it’s crazy that I want you.” he says pointedly, but it holds a layer of gentleness. “We have already done it, haven’t we?”

“And… you want more?”

“Yes, I– god!” Felix hufss in frustration. His voice hardens, defensive and vulnerable. “You feel something for me, I’m not stupid and you aren’t either, so don’t make me the slut everyone thinks I am.”

“No, that’s not it,” Chris clarifies quickly, his hand instinctively reaching to hold Felix’s and his heart aching at the thought of Felix feeling that way.  “I’m just asking because… you’re right, it is hard for me to believe you.” He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his words in understandable bundles. “Felix you are perfect , you could be with anyone…”

“Yeah, but I know you now,” Felix counters, his fingers tightening around his hand. Grounding. “And the more I started to know you, the less I wanted anything else, the less I wanted to fuck you. As in... just fuck you. You are the one that has made me want to quit casual."

Chris’s heart bursts inside him, the enormity of Felix’s words pressing it down until it blows like a firework, little candent lights falling off from it and burning him in the best way possible. 

“So you don’t wanna… break up?” He asks, still uncertain in how to use the hope he had long lost and is now back on his hands. “You want this to be real?”

Felix looks up at Chris, searching his face, and his disarming doe eyes tell Chris he’s a lost cause as his defenses crumble to dust.  

"If it was real... would it still be like it has been?" Felix asks quietly, his voice almost a whisper now but the ghost of a smile curls the corners of his mouth. "I just... I don't need you to change anything, I just want this.”

When he says the word ‘this’ he squeezes Chris’ hand lightly to emphasize what he means. It’s strange, but it makes Chris’s body finally begin to relax, the weight of Felix’s honesty settling into his chest. ‘I just want this’. It’s everything Chris has wanted and everything he's been too scared to admit or accept. But Felix is asking for it, offering the same deal to reciprocate, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Chris thinks he could let himself love someone for real.

“I want it too,” Chris murmurs. “I just don’t want to screw it up. I wouldn’t be able to stand it this time.”

Felix smiles, a soft thing but as bright as the sun. And apparently, they have been sitting that close and that intertwined, because Felix leans in just a tad and his lips brush against Chris’ when he speaks.

"You won't.” Felix whispers before he kisses him softly and impatient, and then he pulls back just enough to add. “You didn’t even fuck it up the first time, it was him and I’m–" 

“Not like that.” Chris hums, pressing another kiss to Felix’s demanding lips. Felix blinks dumbly at him, so adorable in his surprise it rips a giggle from Chris. He cups his cheek and gives him a third, chaste kiss on his lips. “I can tell. I feel things with you that I didn’t feel before with him, or anyone. I didn’t think they were real but I guess it’s because I had not met you yet to show them to me.” he concludes, hardly able to keep a tremble out of his voice. 

But he is so correct. The first proof of it it’s that Felix doesn’t say it’s too much. He doesn’t scrunch his nose and cringes away from the sincere affection, but rather, his breath hitches in his throat and he blushes furiously pink. 

“I– uh… how can someone respond to that?” he says, pushing his hair behind his ears. “I’m so not used to romance.”

“I can tone it down.”

“No! I like it, it's just that I’m not used to it. You made me discover new stuff too, you know?”

“I’m a clingy boyfriend, Felix.” he teases, although it’s also a last warning for Felix, a last chance to turn back. “And annoying, and corny to the point my heart can shatter easily and it’s hard to put back together. You have seen that.”

“And I have a reputation,” Felix replies, lifting his chin like he’s defying him. “You have seen that.”

Chris frowns. “And I don’t care.”

“Then you know what I think of your silly warnings,” he says, crossing his arms almost petulantly. “Stop being silly and take me to lunch.”

“Lunch!?” Chan yelps, exploding with laughter. “Oh my god, you really meant that about not changing anything! Am I your life-long sandwich supplier now?”

“Principally.” Felix says with a smile. “But I’ll let you choose the menu sometimes, for the sake of your rugby player diet. You have a final to win, I want another celebration kiss. My friends are still talking about it, you know?”

“Are they?”

“They say we look like in the movies,” he says with a softening gaze. “Sana joked that she would hit on you if I hadn’t snatched you first. Don’t embarrass me now, movie boyfriend, we have an image to maintain. ”

Chris exaggerates a sigh, taking Felix’s hand and pulling them both up. “Go change and I’ll call delivery. What do you want?”

“Delivery?” Felix pouts. “Aren’t you taking me to a nice place to celebrate our new-old relationship status?”

“No, I’m taking you to my dorm to celebrate our new-old relationship status.” he says, pressing a short kiss to Felix lips and landing a temperate smack to his ass. 

“Oh.” Felix blinks twice, and then– “ Oh ” He makes a face that’s pure mischief, starting to move a little too fast and uncoordinated. “Let me grab my things and put some real pants on. Ten minutes.” He gets under the fence and runs with his bag towards the locker room, screaming at Chris as he’s already halfway through the court. “I want fried and seasoned chicken!”

_____

As a boyfriend, Chris is clingy, corny, sentimental and all the other things he warned Felix about and, somehow, the cheerleader doesn't mind. In fact, it’s more than that. He appears to enjoy it rather than seeing Chris' over the top shows of affection like a flaw. 

He always replies to his 'thinking of you' texts, smiles when he asks him the 'would you still like me if I was a worm' question and even beats him one day to send a good morning text first, with heart emojis and all.

So, if they stop to think about it, this is Felix's fault for enabling him. After all, he’s the one who got all gooey-eyed when Chris showed up at his dorm's door with a bag full of chocolate bars just because Felix had been feeling down and he had noticed. He joked at first saying 'It's not like I'm on my period' but bursted into tears as soon as Chris got to the couch. It was a sudden barrage of emotions –his previous sadness mixing with gratitude and shame– that Chris hadn't expected and made him horrified for a second. It was his first time seeing Felix cry, to begin with, and he hoped it was the last because it felt like a kick to the chest. He had immediately pulled him into a comforting cuddle, –that made him cry harder, yet he held onto it– rubbing his back until he calmed down. Later that night, while they finished the third milky bar, Felix had confessed  it wasn’t just the gesture itself that made him cry, but the fact that Chris had wanted to do it. Just because. Because he cared for him, not because he was after a 'reward' if he panders to him. 

Apparently, Felix had been dead serious about not being used to being given that kind of affection. The cheerleader was used to quick, intense attention that wore off as quickly, and expected crumbs almost all the time, as if he wasn't worth the effort or something. 

It was sad to watch. 

At first, Chris had wanted to hunt the 'boys that have been bad to Felix on the daily' one by one, but then he had gotten a nickel of his rationality back when he had remembered the results of his last –and recent– revenge of an ex adventure. Ignorance was the best remedy for them.

That, and Chris being determined to be the best real boyfriend ever, one who will put them all to shame on Felix's pretty eyes.  

Which takes him to the present moment, unapologetically armed with affection,  heart fluttering in his chest and yellow tulip on hand as he pushes through the food court to get to the cheering squad's table.

It had hit him some days ago: he had never got to ask Felix out properly. Sure, they had talked about what they wanted and been together for almost an extra month since, but it had all started like a business deal. So he has made up his mind to make sure Felix knows he's wanted in the most genuine, disinterested way possible.

There are more than cheerleaders present around the table today, though. Minho is calmly eating his food next to Felix, both completely oblivious to the chaos that Chris is about to cause. Jisung has uncharacteristically shown up in a large group lunch, most likely due to Mr. New-Friend-With-Benefits Hyunjin's influence. Changbin has been pulled along, too. 

Chris doesn't know if he prefers to have more known faces in the crowd for this or not, as the table notices his presence and starts falling quiet. Well, there's no turning back now. Felix looks up, his expression curious at first, then slowly morphing into something softer.

"Chris?" 

Chris takes a deep breath, offering the one flower bouquet to an already too smiley Felix. It's wrapped in a cream-colored tissue paper and it has a yellow ribbon tying it up together with tiny white flowers and long leafs, curled inwards into the arrangement. 

Minho catches the whiff of a potential laughing stock moment in the air and scoots away from Felix on the bench so Chris can slide in where he had been.

"Hey, Felix," Chris says, trying to be casual and failing surreptitiously when his voice decides to squeak and ebb into an embarrassed laugh. "Would you like to go out with me?" 

Felix's eyes widen, his face turning completely to a shade of crimson that makes Chris' heart race even faster. He knows the answer, but seeing Felix like this –being loved and happy about it, exactly how he's supposed to be– makes butterflies swarm in his stomach. 

"Chris!" He protests, breaking into a soft giggle. His freckled eyes crinkle, melting Chris insides. "I– Yes," his voice cracks slightly. He blinks quickly to stave off tears threatening to gather in the corner of his eyes and spill right there in the middle of the food court, which has gone silent to watch. "You're an absolute idiot!"

He throws himself onto Chris' arms with a huff and lets him pull him into a hug, holding the tulip out so they don't crush it between their chests. 

"I know," he replies, full of fondness.

Some of the cheerleaders –and more prominently, Changbin– erupt in a celebration that pulls in most of the food court. The clapping and cheering grow louder as the entire food court seems to get swept up in the moment, causing Felix to bury his face further onto Chris' neck and whine and giggle. 

Chris is as embarrassed, if not more, but is worth it.

"You two are so fucking extra!" Jisung complains with an eye roll. "You were already dating!" 

"Yeah, please, stop this cringe." Hyunjin seconds. 

"They are a punishment." Jisung sighs dramatically, turning to Hyunjin like they’re sharing a private conversation, though everyone else can still hear the playful complaint. The rest of the table bursts into laughter.

"Let them be!" Changbin protests loudly, throwing his hands up in the air as if the whole cafeteria needs to hear him. "They’re in love!"

"Changbin!" Chris whines. "Stop that, the whole university doesn't need to know!"

Felix pulls back just enough to stare at Chris with the most enamored eyes ever. Chris can't help himself and has to place a kiss on her fairy-like nose, eliciting a gagging sound from Minho. 

"They are gonna start hating us soooo much."

Chris chuckles, tucking blonde hair behind Felix’s ear. "They’ll have to get used to it, you deserve the extra."

The table groans in exaggerated unison, but Felix and Chris just laugh, completely unbothered.