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The cameras were flashing so fast and bright that Felix could barely see where he was walking. The airport had essentially turned into the pearly gates of heaven, his eyes barely shielded by his sunglasses enough for him to see the exit. If his team hadn’t been there to guide him, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have accidentally gone crowd surfing on the swarms of people watching him arrive back home. 

It was overwhelming, sure, but he loved every second of it. The cheering, the applause, the sheer volume of attention that he got purely for just walking. It was all he’d ever wanted. Having his career take off in such a way was what he’d dreamed of ever since he was a kid, and the screams of his fans only ever spurred him on. 

He waved back at them as he continued forwards - whatever that direction may have been. Reporters yelled questions from all sides, truthfully he wasn’t sure who was where or if up was down or when he would ever be able to smell fresh air instead of body sweat and dirty floors. 

“Felix,” someone yelled from the left. 

He was sure it was the left. Wasn’t it? The room was spinning so fast he couldn’t be sure. 

“Hey! Felix. Are you listening to me? I just want to ask you-” 

A hand emerged from the cloud of flashes and into Felix’s view. He braced himself for the impact, flinching as the reporter almost came crashing straight into him and causing the domino effect from hell. He could only imagine the horror. 

Right before any of that got a chance to start its motion, arms were reaching round Felix from behind, grabbing the reporter with a forceful grip. 

“Back up,” Chan snarled like a dog thrashing against its leash. 

His bodyguard had always been one of the most gracefully ruthless people that Felix knew. He'd been employed as one of his protectors since the start of his career and there was quite literally nobody that he felt safer with. Right from the get go he had made his intentions clear - that he would protect Felix with his life if he had to, just to make sure he was safe. What with him barely scraping his twenties at that point, Felix had laughed it off, thinking nothing much of it. It was assumed to be just some spiel to get the job, that he was bigging himself up to make himself seem more impressive. But Felix had since seen just how truly impressive he was. 

It was just an unfortunate irony that Felix himself was the one that felt leashed, that Chan was the one walking him like a dog. 

He was always behind him. Always. He walked with this air of importance that Felix only ever saw through lenses of cameras when he shamelessly re-watched his own fan's edits and videos. 

Felix read all the comments about his bodyguard. The ones that mistook him for another singer, or really any other famous personality, saying that he was so hot and that they would sign anything to be with him for just a night. Well, they'd have to get in line because Felix was very well aware that Chan was the sexiest person alive and he'd be damned if his own fans got him before Felix did. 

Because that was the thing, Chan was always behind him. He never let Felix watch him walking even though it was his favourite view. He held him at arms length, only reaching closer when professionally necessary. It was a touch that meant nothing to him. A touch that disappeared the second it was no longer required. God, it was slowly killing him. He could survive a lot. The noise, the chaos, the pushing and shoving, the desperation. But the yearning for a man that barely returned his gaze was the thing that tore his soul apart. 

The first time Felix realised that he felt something, it had been quiet. 

Back then, fame hadn’t yet learned his name. There were no screaming fans, no cameras, no paparazzi shouting out questions about designer brands he didn’t yet own. It was just… Them. Well, and the rest of the team. 

Of course, he’d known since he first saw Chan that he was an attractive guy. It would have taken a blind person not to have realised that from the very first second. He had that jet black hair that fell into his eyes, the smart, sensible stature that just excluded a confidence most people dreamed of having. So, yeah Felix had registered it, but it hadn’t been something that he’d ever spent time thinking about. Well, not until he did. 

He’d been dressed in sweats that were entirely too long for him, a size too big because that was what he deemed to be the most comfortable thing to wear back then. His headphones had been planted over his ears, playing his own demo so he could figure out where the tweaks needed to be made once he got back to the studio. Someone must have tried to warn him, but he couldn’t hear them, too wrapped up in his own world to pay attention to the real one. And, before he knew it, he’d tripped up in the most spectacular of ways, stumbling forward two steps and accepting his fate as he almost plummeted face first into the ground. 

Except he didn’t. 

There were hands gripping tight onto his waist, steady and warm, as they pulled him back up with a seemingly practiced ease. 

Felix, utterly flustered, yanked his headphones down, the song gently crackling between them as he gazed back at his bodyguard in awe. 

“Careful,” was all Chan said. But it was enough. It was enough to make his world narrow into something rose tinted and heart shaped, something that would change his life inexplicably. Because, once the realisation had been made, once his brain had clicked into place and started actually looking at Chan, he couldn’t seem to do anything else. 

“Maybe I should trip up more often,” he’d said in return, eyes flicking down to look at the place where Chan’s hands were digging into his shirt. 

They dropped immediately, Chan stepping back as his face closed like a door. Felix could see the very moment it was bolted shut, the way that it would remain for good. 

“I need you to pay attention,” he said. “I’m here to do my job.” 

It wasn’t unkind, that was something that Chan never was. He could be a little… Cold sometimes. He was professional almost to a fault, blank faced, rigid. But never unkind. There was just a finality in his voice that edged Felix’s heart with disappointment. 

Felix remembered laughing, hoping that it sounded less like a bark and more actually genuine. He remembered putting on a show, nodding at his bodyguard and pulling his headphones back onto his head like Chan’s silent rejection of something over the line of professional hadn’t landed somewhere deep and permanent inside of him. 

And he kept pretending it hadn’t mattered, from the moment Chan stepped back to the moments he chose to walk one step behind and stay there. 

The car door was opened for him before Felix even registered they had reached it. Even with his sunglasses, the flashes had caused coloured spots to swim across his vision and he’d been watching them go back and forth instead of properly focussing on his surroundings. Probably a stupid idea but hey, that’s what Chan was for, right? 

“Watch your head,” Chan said as he braced one hand against the roof. 

What Felix wouldn’t have given to turn around, to see what it would be like to have Chan towering over him, pinning him in with his big strong arms. But he didn’t. He knew the only thing that would happen, if Felix made the slightest movement, was Chan jolting away like he’d been burned. So, he just ducked his head inside the car and let his bodyguard close the door behind him. 

As expected, just as Felix was settling himself on the leather seats, the leather of his jacket creating a symphony of irritating sounds as they rubbed together, Chan made his way to the front of the car. He sat in the seat directly in front of him. Felix had long since stopped wishing Chan would sit next to him so they could properly talk on the way back to his place… At least, that’s what he told himself anyway. 

Felix clenched his jaw as Chan settled himself in, close enough to speak but too far to reach, and the engine purred to life. The noise and chaos of the airport was left in their dust as the driver began their escape away from it all and Felix allowed himself to relax. Sure, he loved it all, he craved the attention and praise and adoration, but there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. He could only handle that particular brand of hurricane in small doses. 

He placed his sunglasses in his lap, blinking as his eyes adjusted. 

“You good?” Chan asked, suddenly the loudest thing he could hear. 

“Well, I’m alive, right? So that’s a win.” 

Chan just hummed, “The crowd was bigger than expected. We should increase your security for next time.” 

Felix knew he was more talking aloud than talking directly to him, but he acknowledged it with a sound anyway. 

“Aww,” he cooed. “Are you worried about me?” 

He wished he could have seen the look on Chan’s face at his teasing. Most likely there was nothing there, just his same old blankness, but Felix liked to imagine a hint of a smile that he battled off before that. 

Chan paused for a moment, long enough to have Felix’s heart fluttering with a sick sort of yearning. But, inevitably, he was brought back to reality with a harsh thump, much like the car had travelled over a particularly brutal pothole. 

“Just doing my job,” he said. Classic. 

Felix smiled anyway, despite how strained it felt. 

“Guess it comes with being famous,” he smirked. “People always want to touch you.” 

“Yeah.” Oh? “Well, I handled it.” Oh. 

“You handled it well. Very heroic. The fans eat it up, you know.” Just like I do. “You must have seen the videos talking about how hot you are, right? Your fanbase might be as big as mine by now.” 

“That’s not why I do it,” he said. “I don’t need… That.” 

Felix blew out a frustrated breath. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if Chan was purposefully deflecting everything he said, or if he was genuinely so wrapped up in the ins and outs of his job that he genuinely didn’t understand what Felix was talking about. 

“Yeah. I know.” 

He didn’t know why he kept trying. Well, he did. Blind hope played a big part in it. There was still a tiny part hidden away at the back of his chest, a light that flickered so dimly that the naked eye couldn’t see. It hadn’t yet been blown out, that remnant of hope that one day Chan might return his affections, or even just want to be friends. 

Because really, all Felix wanted was a bit of closeness, the part that Chan hid behind his professional facade. He knew that it existed. He had seen proof of it, that Chan was kind, funny and loveable when Felix wasn’t around. He had seen him joke around with other members of the team when Felix had come back from the bathroom or returned from the stage. There was a smile that lived on his face, one that promptly slipped off right when Felix made his presence known and it hurt that he seemed to be the only one not allowed to revel in it. 

Frankly, he could deal with Chan not being romantically interested, his ego could survive that. But he wasn’t sure he could come back from concrete proof of Chan not even liking him enough to want to be friends. They had known each other for years, and spent most hours of the week together. Surely that had to count for something? Apparently it didn’t. 

“You’re very serious today,” Felix said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He was surprised that Chan had even heard him. 

“I’m serious every day.” 

Except when Felix wasn’t around. Except when he was with literally anybody else. 

“Right.” 

Felix leaned back, folded himself inward, and didn’t try again. What was the point when whatever he said was beaten away with the back of Chan’s hand? He was barely more than a pesky fly, so clinging to the wall and pretending like he didn’t exist seemed right up his alley. 

As the car slowly pulled to a stop outside his place, Felix immediately placed his hand on the doorhandle. 

“Home safe,” Chan said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Felix sighed, nodding to the driver who offered him a warm smile in return. “Thanks.” 

He stepped out into the cool evening air, slammed the door shut behind him and didn’t look back. Usually, he would have taken his time, allowing his tired limbs a rest from all the earlier travel. But he also knew Chan wouldn’t allow the driver to pull away before he had seen Felix go inside, and he couldn’t allow himself to hold them up.

The lift ride up was at least mercifully short. All he wanted was to get in, tear off the leather and flop down on his sofa. He wanted to rot his brain with terrible shows and try to heal his brain and eyes from the overstimulation that he hadn’t yet seemed to have recovered from. 

However, once he’d jammed his keys into the lock of his apartment, swinging the door open, he was greeted to an unsettling warm light from the kitchen. 

He lived alone. His parents weren’t visiting. He hadn’t invited anyone over. 

The smart thing to do probably would have been to close the door and immediately call Chan. Or the police. But, since he clearly had less than no survival instincts, he decided to call out instead. At least if he was being robbed, the burglars would know he was a host with manners. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh, thank fuck,” came the reply, a casual and familiar sound. “You’re back!” 

Felix felt himself sag in relief, allowing himself to step over the threshold and shut himself inside the apartment with the lodger. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, heading towards the creator of the noise. 

Changbin was sitting at one of the bar seats at the kitchen island. There was a multitude of takeaway boxes that littered the space in front of him, the smell enough to have Felix’s mouth watering with something almost animalistic. It suddenly dawned on him that the last thing he’d had to eat was a few bites of disgusting plane food a few hours before and his stomach was ravenous for something edible. 

“You know,” Felix said, trying for stern but being undercut by his growing smile. “Normal people knock.” 

“Normal people don’t have the door code or your spare key,” Changbin quipped, pushing Felix a pair of chopsticks as he sat down beside him. 

Changbin had known him since before he could afford three meals a day. Since his lyrics had been nothing more than useless scribbles on paper that were amounting to nothing. Since he was sofa surfing and trying to find a way to make the music thing work before he admitted defeat and went home. He had been his life ring, his ray of hope, his best friend. Felix owed Changbin and his family more than he’d ever be able to express. 

“That was given to you for emergencies.” 

Changbin just shrugged, “Eh, well. What good would knocking have done anyway? I knew you weren’t in.” 

“And is your phone dead?” 

“Is yours? I texted you twice, dumbass.” 

“Oh,” Felix snorted. 

“And what a great thank you this is, by the way. You are so welcome for being wined and dined after your long flight.” 

Felix raised a questioning eyebrow as he reached for a bit of food. 

“Wine’s in the fridge. You’re welcome.” 

“Thank you,” Felix grinned. “Although this isn’t exactly the wining and dining I was hoping for.” 

He didn’t even have to say the name, didn’t have to divulge any more details than that. Changbin had already been well versed in the entire history of his crush, on every single conversation that the two of them had had, every brush of eye contact. 

“I mean, how could he rile me up like that and leave me hanging? I was so fucking hard after he spoke like that to that reporter, I mean Jesus Chris, he can’t just do that and then sit in the car like it was nothing.” 

Although… He could. Since it was his job and all, but those were minor details that Felix couldn’t care less about in the moment. 

Changbin just rolled his eyes, “That’s because your bodyguard is a tightass who can’t handle your sexiness and you are too much of a scaredy cat to actually outright ask him about it.” 

 Felix barked out a laugh that sounded a little more unhinged than he meant it. 

“It’s not that he can’t handle it,” he laughed, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “He just wants no part of it at all. Like, did I tell you he stopped drinking coffee around me now? I made one jokey comment about how his hands looked around his mug and now he just… Doesn’t. He’s disgusted with me, clearly, and probably reports me to my manager or even the label and they’re getting ready to unmask me for my devious ways.” 

“Well… Have you heard anyone ask you about it? Or follow up any of your supposed sexual advances in the workplace?” 

“No.” 

“There you go then. He’s just repressing his horny-ness because he can’t handle himself around you. Like I’ve told you a thousand times, if he really had a problem you would know about it.” 

Felix scoffed, shoving another bite in his mouth like it had personally offended him. 

“You don’t know that,” he scoffed. “Maybe he’s just perfected the art of hiding how deeply uncomfortable I make him. Maybe he’s just internally screaming every time I open my mouth.” 

“If he really felt that way, he would have quit. Trust me, Lix, you’re just too beautiful and he can’t handle it.” 

“Yeah right,” Felix rolled his eyes. 

Changbin just shoved him a little with his elbow, “Don’t go acting like you don’t know you’re hot as shit! You just got mobbed at an airport for fuck sake.” 

“And yet Chan didn’t rail me in the back of the car. Go figure.” He smirked. “Like he acts all feral and stuff when we were out there and yet the second we get out he’s back to the whole ‘yes sir, three feet apart, sir’.”

His friend mimed vomiting all over their food. Felix probably would have stabbed him with a chopstick if he’d actually gone through with it. 

“First of all, that’s an absolutely vile mental image. Second, I actually fear for your standards if that’s your big fantasy.” 

“It’s not the fantasy, just one of them.” 

“Either way, I think you need to self-evaluate. I mean, what is it with you all and all these emotionally repressed men? You have a type.” 

“No, I don’t!” 

Changbin just fixed him with a look. 

“Okay fine, maybe I do, but that’s besides the point. But you did see him at the airport right? You saw how he reacted, how hot he must have looked doing it.” 

Changbin nodded, “I was watching a livestream, yeah.” 

“Aww are you the one running my fanclub?” 

“Yeah,” he deadpanned, before continuing. “I get paid in brownie crumbs and the hair clippings of your stalkers. It’s a really great gig.” 

Felix laughed, but it sounded more nervous than he really wanted to let on. He swivelled on his stool, facing Changbin more directly. 

“Okay so… What did you see? On the live.” 

He noticed it when Changbin’s expression changed. It wasn’t a lot, more just a case of Felix being able to read him so well. But he was able to note the shift between teasing and something more honest, more serious. Changbin was always good at that, flipping between his emotions like a switch. He was too intelligent for his own good. 

“I saw him protect you,” he said. “Like he always does. I also saw the way he looked at you afterwards.” 

Felix felt his eyes widen, “How?” 

“Like you were his diamond and someone just tried to smash you. Like… It was protective and stuff but you can see he actually really cared - which, again, I’ve been telling you he does all the time.” 

His stomach flipped, “You’re lying.” 

“I’m not,” Changbin replied, face clear of any smirks. “Seriously, it was like he was checking to see if you were still real. Underneath that mask of Professional Chan, obviously.” 

“But then what does it mean?” Felix lamented. “If he feels that way why does he keep shutting me down?” 

It made his head spin. Chan cared, but he stepped away. He was a blazing heat in public but froze in private. He looked at Felix like he mattered but looked away like that mattered more. And Felix could tell himself a million sensible reasons why that was the case, but one thought about his fucking eyes or his arms or the rare smile Felix only saw when it wasn’t for him, and all of it collapsed. 

“I think he does it because wanting you is inconvenient as hell.” 

“Wha-” 

“Hear me out,” Changbin said, waving around his chopsticks like it was a stick he was pointing at a blackboard full of notes. “He goes feral when it’s external, yeah? Reporters, fans, anyone trying to touch you that shouldn’t be. That’s all in safe territory because that’s his job. But it seems like whenever something involves you, just you, that could turn into something that could change his life.” Changbin paused. “That’s not neutrality, Lix. That’s avoidance.” 

Felix shook his head, trying to push out the hopeful thoughts about Chan pining for him behind his back. Because it was just make believe, a thought for when he was trying to lull himself to sleep not for the sane workings of his very awake mind. Changbin needed to be careful with his support or Felix may cross the line of delusion there was no coming back from. 

“Maybe you’re wrong,” he said, talking as much to himself as Changbin. “And he really is just my bodyguard and feels like… A brotherly protectiveness- ew. No. Ew.” 

Changbin pulled a face, “Whatever it is he feels, I’m telling you now it is not brotherly. And if it is, he should maybe go to therapy and jail because wow.” 

Felix huffed, “So, what then?” 

“He’s probably scared,” Changbin said. “That’s the usual MO for emotionally repressed men. Especially the ones that look one second away from either proposing or combusting - which just to be clear, applies to that guy of yours one hundred percent. He probably has the ring in his pocket.” 

Felix scoffed, going back to picking at his food, “Great. Love that for me.” 

Changbin nudged their knees together. 

“Look, I like the guy. He takes care of you and, from everything I’ve seen, he’s solid. I think he genuinely cares and he keeps you safe. So, this isn’t me being an asshole…” 

Felix lifted his head, sensing a definite but. 

“But,” Ah there it was. “I am saying that if he keeps acting like you’re something he wants but something he’s not allowed to touch then eventually someone’s going to get hurt.” 

“So, what do I do?” 

Changbin shrugged, “You either bite the bullet and actually say something, see if he’s genuinely just weird or if there’s something there. Or you stop letting him be the centre of the universe and realise that you are the sun. And… Maybe if he keeps acting this way, you could show him just what acting cold really is.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“At some point being professional stops being noble and starts being selfish,” he said. “Maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, see if he enjoys it.” 

*** 

The next week, Felix stumbled into the studio with sleep crusted eyes and rumpled sweats. Truthfully, he had forgotten he was supposed to be running through the new demos and the lack of an alarm that morning hadn’t helped his case. It was only when he had got up to pee that he’d noticed the countless messages on his phone and the calls coming from his driver, who had been parked outside his building for the better part of an hour. 

The only person in there was his producer and the sound assistants. Chan was nowhere to be seen, which Felix thought was a little odd since he always seemed so intent on slinking around wherever his schedules were and hiding there in the shadows. Just because Felix rarely was able to look at him didn’t mean he couldn’t feel his presence, but there was none of that in the studio. 

“Nice of you to get here,” Jisung grinned as Felix flopped onto the couch next to him. 

Jisung was one of his favourite producers, he always understood exactly what vision Felix was trying to get across without being pretentious and overbearing about it. He had hardly worked with anyone else after discovering what a great team they made. Why would he bother with other producers when he had the best one right in front of him? 

“Yeah, well, it’s your fault for choosing a meeting this early.” 

“Or is it your fault for not sleeping last night?” Jisung smirked. 

“I’ll have you know I slept very well, tucked up in my blankets.” 

“Oh yeah? At what time.” 

“That doesn’t matter.” 

Just as Jisung was about to fire back, the door opened and Felix heard the sound of familiar footsteps. He had just about learnt to recognise the sound of Chan’s fancy shoes tapping on the ground, the long, sure steps that he would take. 

Felix didn’t look up, even when Chan reached from behind him and placed a paper bag on the table. He continued to stand just out of Felix’s peripheral, probably already in his bodyguard pose with his statue impression where he held his hands behind his back, waiting and ready to pounce if needed. 

There was no use even bothering to ask how Chan knew he hadn’t eaten. Felix knew Chan would just shrug and insist he’d eat it. They had been through that whole song and dance multiple times before and always ended up in the same place, yet Felix gained no new information. He just assumed Chan was using some kind of freak mind reading intelligence, like how he knew every move Felix was going to make before he did it. 

“You’re spoiling me. People will start to talk, you know.” 

The words slipped out on instinct before he could think better of it. He promptly winced at himself as Jisung snorted. 

Real great going. If that was Felix’s idea of being cold, Changbin would have been thoroughly disappointed in him. 

“It’s a sandwich,” Chan said, ignoring him as usual. “I asked them to leave out the mustard and only use mayo.” 

Felix hated that that made his throat tighten. It was always the small things, the stupid things, that made his heart clench in his chest. He hated that Chan knew all about them, the things that made him so impossible to ignore, the things that made it so impossible to file away into a workplace box and forget it existed. 

Because how could he say he only felt a professional bond with someone that would argue with baristas for him when they forgot to add caramel syrup to his drink? Someone that had definitely been the one to give him fluffy socks at Christmas after Felix had lamented about his cold feet? (It had been Secret Santa but some people didn’t stay secret for long, and Felix was able to sniff out the trail without much trouble. Chan, of course, had denied it, but Felix knew the truth). 

Felix nodded, “Thanks.” 

He wanted to reach for the bag, tear it open and stuff the contents into his mouth. He wanted to savour the flavour and satiate the sudden grumbling of his stomach. He wanted to grin at Chan, throw his arms around his shoulder and thank him profusely for being so wonderful and keeping his best interests in mind. But, instead, he turned towards Jisung, and began talking about literally anything work related. 

He launched into a spiel about the demo, gesturing vaguely to the sound equipment as he went on and on about layering and technical terms like he knew exactly what it all meant. Most of it was a bluff, but Jisung was up and onto his swivel chair the second Felix started, nodding and humming as he dragged things about the screen like he was following everything and it somehow made sense. Maybe Jisung was just humouring him, but Felix thought it was nice not to be embarrassed if that was the case. 

Felix thought Chan might leave after five minutes of them discussing the ins and outs of the song. It wasn’t like he was unsafe in a studio inside of the heavily guarded record label’s building. But, no, he stayed. He remained positioned right by the door, like he was worried someone was going to burst in and steal Felix away in broad daylight. So, Felix made sure his gaze stayed on Jisung and the monitors, never straying anywhere else. He didn’t think he could handle looking at Chan, it would cause him to crumble, cause his heart to turn into something ugly and aching if he was once again reminded that Chan was just being overly dutiful and nothing more. 

After they had mapped out the whole song, Jisung spun round so dramatically that he almost did a 360. He grinned wildly, eyes darting down for a second to lock on the abandoned paper bag, before he was wordlessly looking back up at Felix. 

“Shall we get started?” Felix asked, before Jisung could comment on it. 

“Let’s do it,” he nodded. “Get your pretty butt into the recording booth.” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Felix smiled. 

He slid into the booth like it was second nature. He still remembered his first time in one, looking around like a kid in a candy store, bouncing on the balls of his feet, almost hitting his teeth on the mic with how enthusiastic he was being. Felix wouldn’t say he was any less excited necessarily, but there was definitely a sense of maturity he had gained from recording so many times since then. He had been able to fine tune his recording behaviour into an art, almost like choreography in of itself. 

Jisung began playing the track they had been working on, once Felix had settled the headphones on his head. The music was warm and familiar around him as it streamed through his ears. Felix let his eyes flutter closed as he swayed back forth, allowing the music to take over him as he sang. He didn’t need his eyes to see any distractions. He didn’t need to see sad lonely sandwiches, or statuesque bodyguards, or even smiling producers. He just needed him and his song. 

The first take was clean enough but definitely needed polishing. The second was a bit better, but he was somehow messing up on areas he thought were better the first time. By the fifth full run of it, Jisung was grinning like they’d struck gold. 

He put his hand on the button, voice coming through the headphones. 

“That was great!” 

“We should go again though, right?” Felix said, biting his lower lip. “I feel like I could do it better.” 

He noticed the slight furrow of Jisung’s brow, “Are you sure? I thought the last one was-” 

“Again,” Felix responded with a shake of his head. 

Infuriatingly, Jisung glanced over his shoulder at Chan. Felix didn’t follow the line of his gaze, but he could already tell that Chan had changed positions. He was still standing by the door, but there was something about him that was less taught, like the stone was crumbling. 

Felix had half a mind to snap at his friend, to scream about how Chan wasn’t his fucking babysitter and Jisung didn’t need to ask his permission. But that outburst probably would have added to the very real concern that was slowly building behind Jisung’s eyes. He never really was one to be able to hide his emotions. Normally that was something that Felix liked about him, but it was less so when he was looking at Chan like he was some sort of caregiver instead of just an uninvited observer. 

“Alright,” Jisung said slowly when Chan gave him only silence. “One more.” 

Felix sang like his lungs were burning, like he was chasing the notes that were just out of grasp. He clawed his way back to them with aching limbs and a heaving chest, voice scratching at high notes and breath coming short and fast between lines. He powered through it all anyway, eyes closed, face burning, hands fisted into the sleeves of his hoodie. 

When the track ended, Felix didn’t even bother waiting for Jisung’s tentative attempt at feedback. 

“Again.” 

That time, however, it wasn’t Jisung that argued back to him. It was Chan. 

“That’s enough.” 

Felix snapped his eyes open, tilting his head just enough to look at Chan directly through the glass. 

“Sorry?” 

His face was just as placated as ever, no hint of any other emotion other than calm which just made Felix even more annoyed. Who was he to interrupt? Did Felix bat reporters out of the way and tell Chan to do better? 

“You’ve been recording for nearly three hours,” Chan said. “You’re straining.” 

“I’m fine.” 

Jisung shifted a little in his chair, “He’s not wrong, Lix. Maybe-” 

“I do this all the time. I am fine.” 

Chan took an almost imperceptible step forward. It felt like he was suddenly pressed up against the glass, like he had even joined Felix in there, breathing down his neck. Even the thought was enough to make him shiver. 

“You skipped breakfast,” he said, one hand blindly pointing in the direction of the table. “You clearly haven’t slept well, and you have a schedule tomorrow.” 

Felix raised an eyebrow, “Keeping tabs on me?” 

“It’s my job,” came Chan’s stock response. 

“And there it is,” Felix murmured. “The magic phrase that makes everything else disappear.” 

Chan didn’t react to that, at least not visibly. Felix couldn’t tell if he was disappointed because mostly what he felt was a severe lack of surprise. He had acted in just the way that Felix had assumed he would, even if he’d hoped for something entirely different. If he was looking for a crack in his armour then he would likely have been there for the rest of the day searching for it. 

“You’re done for the day,” Chan told him, in his gently firm tone. 

Felix scoffed a laugh, “You can’t make that call. You aren’t my manager or my producer or my fucking parent.” 

“No, I’m not,” Chan agreed. “But I can recommend it. And I am.” 

Felix looked to his left, catching Jisung’s eye and silently praying for some backup. But all it took was that brief flicker of hesitation and Felix already knew what the outcome would be. 

“I mean… We do have enough for today,” he said. 

Chan grasped onto that like a dog with a bone, giving Jisung a brief nod before turning his full attention back onto Felix. He felt pinned by it, frozen by the weight of eyes that normally just burned into the back of his neck. There was a sense of discomfort that came with having them fully rested on him, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. 

“Right, that settles it then. Eat.” He gestured again to the bag that had drooped considerably since it had first been placed there. “Go home. Sleep. You can pick this up another time if needed, without shredding your voice.” 

Felix swallowed, jaw ticking, “You talk about me like I’m some sort of checklist.” 

Chan barely moved, “Because checklists keep you alive.” 

He turned around before Felix could think of a reply, walking towards the door with those same measured footsteps, like someone had set off a metronome. 

Just before he left the room, he peered back over his shoulder. It wasn’t enough to make their eyes meet but it still had Felix’s heart thumping an irregular rhythm against his ribcage. 

“I’m calling your driver,” he said. “Five minutes and we leave.” 

When he was gone, Felix let out his long held breath. He stayed where he was for a moment, unable and unwilling to kickstart his limbs. Was it from the stubbornness of wanting to stay or the aftereffects of being stared down from the eyes that haunted Felix’s dreams? Whose to say? 

Jisung pretended to busy himself with his work, clicking about and tapping on his keyboard to give Felix a moment of peace. He didn’t look or comment on it when Felix left the recording booth and crossed the room to settle himself back on the couch. He didn’t say a word when the paper bag noisily crinkled, the sandwich taken carefully in hand. 

Felix hadn’t noticed before but the logo on the bag showed it was from the bakery downtown. The one with the wide windows and sun drenched tables and yellow walls. Sometimes, when Felix had a spare moment, he would have lunch there and just sit in the and enjoy the peace of it all. They made an incredible sandwich. 

He inspected it with curious eyes. Fluffy white bread with flour sprinkled crusts, chunks of chicken breast underneath leafy salad. Extra mayo. No mustard. 

Something shifted loose inside Felix’s chest. 

It was his favourite. 

*** 

Felix was dressed in black, bedazzled denim and boots that were too big for his feet. Every time he crossed and uncrossed his legs, he feared they would fall right off and fly into the crowd - though it was a very real possibility that they would enjoy that. 

He nodded along as the interviewer smiled at him with a brightness that couldn’t be natural. The way she spoke just seemed too practiced, the sparkle in her eyes likely from the studio lights instead of from actual joy. The bags under her eyes probably took just as much time as Felix’s did to be covered, yet there they both were, talking brightly like neither of them would rather be in bed instead of showing off for the cameras. 

It wasn’t like Felix didn’t enjoy the other parts that came with his fame. He loved interacting with his fans and giving them content and showing them the same appreciation that they showed him. There was just something about TV interviewers that gave him a sickly feeling in his stomach. Rather, the questions that they would ask with their toothy smiles. 

The interviewer leaned forwards slightly, cue card neatly balanced in her lap. 

“You’ve been everywhere lately,” she said. “Finishing up a world tour, somehow managing to release a new single and make a surprise appearance at multiple other concerts.” 

On the screen behind her he could see them playing montage clips of the last year. Most of them were of him on the stage, sweaty and beaming, as he rocked out with his whole heart. He had always known performing had made him the happiest, and seeing it always made a smile reappear on his face. Those clips were intermingled with other moments, some from his music video from the single, others him signing things from fans, racing across a stage to an adoring audience when he joined one of his friends on stage at their gig. 

Felix almost felt disappointed that he couldn’t just continue watching it and had to listen to the questions, as conceded as that may have made him. 

“Do you ever slow down?” she asked with a laugh that he knew to be rehearsed. Nobody actually sounded like that. It was tittery and static, like she didn’t want the camera to catch her smile changing at any moment. 

“I find sleep to be very much overrated,” he shrugged, leaning back a little in the chair. It was a task that, upon further inspection, was quite difficult to do. Instead of effortlessly sinking into it, the hard material was uncomfortable and somehow dug into his back. “I like to try and cram as much as I can into the day. Otherwise, what’s the point of all this?” 

She nodded, smile unmoving, “You look like you’re enjoying it.” 

“I am. Do what you love and you never work a day in your life, right?” 

“But it must be exhausting,” she pressed. “Being on all the time.” 

Even on the days where he barely slept, practically crawling through the halls backstage and passed out in the makeup chair, he knew that it was the job he was destined for. There had never been anything else he had wanted as much, that he would be willing to work as hard to get. The exhaustion was nothing compared to the elation of living one of his biggest fantasies. 

“I don’t think of it like that,” he told her. “I don’t put on a persona for people. I’m just… Me. Yes, it can be a lot of schedules sometimes, but I find it easier to cope with it all when I’m being authentic. And I think my fans can gain a lot more from that than a fake copy of myself.” 

His answer was rewarded by a chorus of clapping and whooping from the audience.  

“Well it’s clear they think very highly of you,” the interviewer observed. “Would you agree that you have become somewhat of a fixation to your fans?” 

He laughed a little, “That sounds unhealthy.” 

“No, no, just as admiration. Desire even.” 

He laughed again, the sound louder to mask his discomfort. 

“Oh. Well. That’s…” 

She didn’t even let him finish. Whether that was a blessing or not remained to be seen. 

“Speaking of admiration, have you seen the articles surfacing about Hwang Hyunjin?” 

There was a new twinkle in her eyes as the screen showed a picture of one of the most popular models in Korea. He was relatively new, recently climbing the ranks as one of the top rated models in Versace and becoming practically the entire face of their brand. Felix knew who he was because, who didn’t at that point? He didn’t live under a rock and he had social media, it would have been impossible to avoid his face on the billboards and all the ads online. 

Still, he failed to see what that had to do with him. 

He blinked at her, “No? Should I have done?” 

He cast a subtle look backstage where his team was situated. They didn’t seem panicked or thrown off so, despite Hwang Hyunjin not being mentioned anywhere in his preinterview conversation, he didn’t think there was any reason to be alarmed. 

She bounced a little in her seat, seemingly excited to be the one to give him the news. 

“Well,” she said, with a tone that was probably more dramatic than the moment called for. “He recently did a cover shoot for W Magazine, and in it he calls himself one of your fans. He says he really enjoys listening to your music! Honestly, social media has been in shambles ever since, I’m surprised you haven’t seen it.” 

Before he had a chance to respond, a chatter of excitement had rippled through the audience. When he cast a glance towards them, he could see most people talking to the person next to them, grabbing each other’s hands and grinning wildly as they discussed the supposed interview like it was the biggest news they had heard all week. 

“Wow,” Felix said eventually, smiling tightly. “That’s really flattering. I’m glad he enjoys it.” 

“And are you a fan of his?” 

“Of course,” he said. 

He hadn’t exactly followed Hyunjin’s modelling journey from the start. He didn’t follow him online or buy his magazines or go to fashion shows that he would be walking. Still, he could admit that the guy was famous for a reason and that he was damn good at his job. Felix wasn’t blind, nor was he stupid. 

“He’s great at what he does,” Felix added. 

“And would you be open to meeting him?” she continued to press. “I think we’ve all seen that clip of him at karaoke, right?” she paused for the applause of the audience, raising her hands to ham it up. “So, could there be something in the works for a collaboration between the two of you?” 

Felix pinned the pained smile to his face. 

“I would never say never.” 

He gritted his teeth and grinned his way through the rest of the interview like his life depended on it. He steeled himself in that awful chair until the interviewer had gone through each and every one of her questions, poking and prodding until she got answers that she was satisfied with, egged on by the excited screeching from the audience. At the very least he was glad his fans got some pleasure out of that shit show. 

It was only when the obligatory goodbye claps washed over him, and Felix was ushered to the side of the stage by the crew, that he allowed himself to take a breath and relax. The brief moment of passing, where he was swept up in the hustle and bustle of the stage dressing and adjusting of mics. 

Felix just rolled along with the tide as unknown hands pressed against his arms to guide him backstage through corridors and seemingly endless twists and turns that led… About five steps behind where he previously was on the stage? Weird. 

Weirder still that he had been able to hear the methodical plodding of fancy shoes amongst the stagehands’ squeaky trainers. 

He barely heard it when his introduction of musical guest-global superstar-new single-Lee Felix burst through the speakers. His mind was already in music mode, his body locked into the little mind palace it needed not to let the nerves in, the one that allowed him to leave literally everything else in the wings and perform like it was the biggest night of his life. Even in a small studio, with the nosy interviewer and her fake smile, Felix was willing to bring the ceiling and all its lights down. 

Felix rolled his shoulders, taking a breath, before launching himself on stage as it filled his lungs with a familiarly wonderful air. It was enough to carry him through the entire thing, like he had spent one breath singing the entire song. Just him, his muscle memory, and pure adrenaline as he performed with an ease that slipped on him like his leather jackets. 

He didn’t see the crowd through his haze, but he could hear them, spurring him on, pushing him through as his voice joined theirs in a cacophony that seemed it would carry a few studios over. 

And then, as quickly as it started, it was over. Felix was left with a heaving chest and a racing pulse as the interviewer clapped three times before bringing the show to a close. He was escorted off stage before the audience started to leave, sending them a parting smile as he was ushered off. Doing so was like stepping into a whole new world of cool air and muted sound, the only movement from people already dismantling the stage. 

Felix didn’t really want to stay where his pulse had nowhere to run. He wanted to be somewhere less crowded, where he could let his adrenaline riddled body calm down instead of being accidentally jostled in the rush to pack up equipment and get set for whatever else was being filmed in that space next. 

“Keep walking forwards,” a voice said from behind him. 

Figures that Chan would have planted himself there before Felix could even track where he was. 

He didn’t even question it, just walked. There was no use questioning Chan on most things anyway, it just wasted time. So, he followed the directions being dripped into his ears, left, right, left, straight to the end of the corridor. He opened the exit to the blissful chill of the outdoor breeze, stepping out onto the roof area that, technically speaking he didn’t think he really should have been on. But hey, he was just following instructions, right? Maybe they should have gotten better security. 

Felix didn’t stop walking until he was by the edge, leaning against the barrier to feel the maximum effect of the wind against his face. 

“Here,” Chan said, standing a foot behind with a plastic water bottle in his outstretched hand. 

“Thanks,” Felix replied, gratefully taking it. 

Chan’s fingers were situated right at the top of the bottle, leaving plenty of room at the bottom for his whole hand to grip. It was like he knew in Felix’s gremlin brain that he would have purposefully made their fingers touch. And so what if he had? So what if that one touch would have been enough to calm his nervous system, the softness of his skin a salve for Felix’s heart. God, he needed to get a grip. 

Felix tried to ignore the desperate aching in his chest as he held the bottle. Chan being so fucking thoughtful might actually kill him off. He’d thought it before, so it was probably a legitimate form of action that could one day be written on a legal document. Or on his gravestone. Here lies Felix Lee, who succumbed to the wiles of Bahng Christopher Chan. 

Yet, there he was, refusing to stand beside him, continuing to maintain his position like he thought someone on the empty fucking roof was about to jump out and steal Felix away. He had half a mind to make a quip about it, to tell Chan he was being overdramatic and should have just stood next to him… Maybe even held his hand a little so he could warm Felix’s up, wink, wink, nudge, nudge. But that probably would have resulted in even more distance between the two of them. Felix could deal with one foot. One foot was manageable. When the wind blew just right, it wafted Chan’s scent right towards him, so it wasn’t all bad. 

He twisted open the bottle and took a swig, smiling around the rim as he heard Chan’s almost imperceptible hum of approval. Chan probably wasn’t even aware he’d done it, judging by the fact it wasn’t followed up with any words. 

Felix turned his head a little, not looking directly at him but enough to signal he was talking to him. He didn’t want to spook him, no sudden movement and all that. 

“Want some?” He asked. 

Chan shook his head, “You drink it. You need to hydrate.” 

But it would almost be like we kissed. 

Not that that argument would have settled well. Felix wondered whether Chan would be more open to actually kissing rather than sharing spit from a water bottle. Maybe one day he would ask… Maybe one day Chan might actually answer. 

“It was weird, them mentioning Hyunjin, huh?” Felix mused. 

“Not really,” Chan replied. “They do anything for a reaction.” 

“I guess.” 

“But you handled it well.” 

The smile that appeared on his face was involuntary but welcome. 

“Thanks,” Felix said, thankful that Chan couldn’t see how much it made him grin. He probably would have smoothed it over with more professional jargon if he had. Felix just wanted to keep what he had and be grateful for it, that Chan had been watching, that he’d noticed. “Glad that media training is finally paying off.” 

“Yeah, your manager seemed glad too.” 

“Hmm well as long as I didn’t accidentally say something to set twitter on fire then he’d be satisfied.” 

“Isn’t twitter always on fire?” Chan said. “Seems like your fans are always posting about something. Was your hair last, I think.” 

Felix felt his grin morph into a smirk, “Are you… On twitter? On my side of twitter?” 

“No,” Chan replied, promptly and firmly. “I just know these things. General knowledge.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Felix let the quiet stretch between them as he busied himself with the water bottle, taking small sips between breaths. He was afraid that if he let himself linger for too long that he would say something flippant or stupid that would snap the fragile thread that was somehow still holding Chan there with him. Moments like those, with their gentle conversation, were few and far between and it felt like he was on borrowed time, like he was only allowed them if he didn’t acknowledge how much more he wanted… And he already knew how hard of a task that was. 

“You seemed more rested for your performance,” Chan said, breaking the silence. 

“Oh,” Felix blinked. It was rare that he initiated conversation. “Yeah, I managed to get some more sleep last night. And Binnie had facetimed me before that to make sure I ate proper food. So… Yeah.” 

“That’s good. Make sure you get more rest tomorrow, too.” 

It was his day off. All their days off, really. There were no schedules. His tour had ended, he’d done all the vocal recordings he could - until Jisung inevitably phoned him to add some adlibs and harmonies that came to him in a midnight vision. He could have one blissful day all to himself before he had to go in for dress fittings for some video shoots. 

“I will. Changbin said he wants to meet up but he probably just wants to chill and watch a movie.” When Chan said nothing, Felix continued. “And you? Got any fun plans?” 

“A haircut.” 

“Ah, to be able to see me better, yeah?” Felix joked. 

“Just to be able to see.” 

And back to life, back to reality. 

“Yeah. Right.” 

Just like that, Felix was reminded where the line was, and how stupid he was to have even momentarily forgotten about its existence. 

*** 

“I thought we were having a chill night in.” 

It had been what he’d said when Changbin first told him about the club night. It was a phrase he had repeated all the way there, until they were walking down the street with the bouncer in sight. 

Changbin scoffed, “Again, I never said that. Why would we stay in on your one night off?” 

“Um, because I need to rest?” 

Because I didn’t tell Chan I was going out. 

He couldn’t say that out loud because he knew just how stupid it sounded. Felix also knew that Changbin would wholeheartedly agree that he was an idiot, needed to grow himself a new spine, and get his ass into gear. Still, there was that niggling thought in the back of his mind, worry that his bodyguard’s lack of presence had planted there. It wasn’t enough to stop him from going, but it was there. 

“You can rest when you’re dead,” Changbin cackled. “Come on, you spent so long making yourself pretty, may as well put it to good use.” 

“I’ll have you know, I’m always pretty.” 

“Who says?” 

He jutted out his chin with an air of pretentious energy, “My fans.” 

“Well your fans are too biased to see the truth.” 

“Asshole.” 

Changbin tossed an arm around his shoulder, jostling on the side of the street as they walked up to the bouncer. All it took was a nod from the two of them and they were being let in after a mere glance at the list. Sometimes Felix felt bad bypassing queues right in front of people, but he had to be honest it was one of the best perks he’d ever experienced. Having a best friend in events was literally incredible, Changbin was able to get him into so many incredible things (though Changbin did argue that swinging his rockstar best friend as a guest probably did sweeten the deal a tad). 

The second they were through the door and heading down the stairs, Felix felt the bass thrumming through him like something fierce. It had always been an oddly comforting sort of feeling. One that outraced the beating of his heart, turning the anxiety into something utterly insignificant. 

Changbin made a beeline for the bar, herding Felix there like some kind of party shepherd. 

“What is this thing for anyway?” Felix asked, as they leant up against the counter. 

His friend signalled something to the bartender with an easy flick of his hand and a bright smile. 

“Something to do with a modelling agency, I think?” Changbin shrugged. “They were trying to get all the hottest people here to fill out the background for the main people. Think they’re shooting some b-roll for one of their campaigns or something.” 

“Aww, and you brought me because I’m the hottest person you know?” 

“Um, no. I brought you because I’m babysitting my poor friend who otherwise would have festered inside his apartment all night.” 

“Festering or sleeping?” 

“Same difference.” 

Felix just rolled his eyes with a laugh. 

Their drinks arrived quickly, something neon that was probably lethal. He drank it anyway, survival instincts be damned. 

“Jesus Christ,” he spluttered as Changbin cackled at him. “Why does that taste like straight up battery acid?” 

“Because it works. Might as well get the job done quickly, right?” 

“If you say so.” 

The bar area was a little crowded but in a busy way instead of a totally suffocating sardine situation. It was mostly industry types, people in sharp suits with even sharper cheekbones, beautiful women gliding around in dresses that flowed after them, men that flitted about in front of the cameras. A couple of people had noticeably glanced Felix’s way, double taking when they had realised who he was. It was something he had grown accustomed to, along with the flashing light of the camera crews that were dotted around the room. Thankfully it wasn’t an onslaught of light, so subtle that he knew he’d be able to tune them out in no time at all. 

“Relax,” Changbin said. 

Felix laughed a little, “I am relaxed!” 

“Your eyebrows say different,” he replied, poking one of them with the tip of his finger. Felix batted him away. “They’re tense.” 

“It’s just because of this fucking drink. Feels like I’m literally poisoning myself here.” 

“Mostly I just hold them,” a voice said beside him. “They make for a good visual but not much else.” 

Felix turned to look at the person joining their conversation, mouth curving into an amused smile when the realisation dawned on him. 

Hwang Hyunjin was shorter in person. Of course, he was still very much taller than Felix was, but comparatively, for a model, he was shorter than Felix would have expected. Not that he said that to his face, obviously. He had been known to put his foot in his mouth on many occasions, but he didn’t think he’d sleep soundly that night if he’d managed to embarrass himself in front of Versace’s top model. 

He lifted his glass in greeting, green liquid compared to Felix and Changbin’s blue drinks. 

“Lee Felix,” he smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“We haven’t already met?” Felix asked, feigning confusion. “According to the internet, we’ve been having lots of secret rendezvous ever since you professed your undying love for me in an interview.” 

“Ah, you’re right. And you’re getting ready to release our twelve song album tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Of course! It’s actually a concept purely about forbidden love between a beautiful model and a sleep deprived rock star. Should be a hit with listeners.” 

Hyunjin hummed thoughtfully as he swilled the contents of his drink. Even just standing there, Felix could tell how great he was at his job. It must have been really great for him to have been born with such etherealism. 

“Very niche,” he nodded. “Very underground.” 

“The critics will hate it,” Felix agreed. “But it’s a good thing art isn’t for them.” 

“They just wouldn’t understand perfection if it hit them in the face. Luckily our day ones will be right there.” 

Changbin shook his head as he stared between them with equal parts amusement and tiredness. 

“You two are insufferable already.” 

Hyunjin’s smile widened as he looked over at Changbin. There was a sparkle in his eyes that definitely hadn’t been there before, a renewed interest in the way that he was standing. 

“Hi,” he said, outstretching his free hand. “Hwang Hyunjin.” 

As if Changbin didn’t have a clue who he was. 

Instead of shaking his hand, Changbin lightly grabbed it with his fingers and brought it to his lips for a delicate kiss that had Felix snorting into his drink. He was such a goddamn flirt. 

“Seo Changbin.” 

“A pleasure,” Hyunjin grinned, looking between him and Felix. “What do you say we go and dance?” 

Felix looked just past him out into the sea of people. While there was music still blasting through every speaker in the place, most of the attendees were just milling about and trying to network as opposed to actually going there to party. Felix was a performer, sure, but he usually saved his dancing for the throngs of crowds that he could get lost in, where he was sure nobody could see him properly. 

“Are you sure it’s that kind of event?” Felix asked, chuckling nervously. 

“Any event I’m at is that kind of event,” Hyunjin replied, shrugging like it was nothing. 

“I don’t know…” 

The model just tilted his head, “Scared, Felix?” 

Changbin was full on cackling at that point, nudging Felix so hard that the drink almost sloshed right out of the glass. He placed it back on the barside. It wasn’t like he was going to drink the rest anyway, so it was better off there than being tipped all over the floor and causing a model domino effect. 

“Are you a chicken?” His friend teased. 

“No!” 

“Then what’s the problem? It’s only a little dancing.” 

Hyunjin placed his own glass next to Felix’s, reaching both of his hands out for them to take. 

“We can all go,” he said, smooth and sultry, like he was used to luring people with him. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

Felix hesitated for all of half a second before he was huffing out a resigned breath. He had no idea when he would next have a day off - Chan probably remembered but Felix didn’t have a clue - so making the most of the rest of the night was probably in his best interests. At least if he was tired for his next schedule, he would have a good story and great memories to power him through it. 

“Fine. But if I look stupid then it’s on you two.” 

“You always look stupid,” Changbin retorted, already holding Hyunjin’s hand. 

Felix took the other, having to stumble after the model mere seconds later as Hyunjin glided through the crowd like he was parting the sea. People just moved on instinct without him even saying anything, like they could just sense his presence like some eerie modelling god whispering in their ears. 

He led them to one of the less crowded areas, it was closer to the source of the noise, where the vibrations thrummed through the soles of Felix’s shoes. He could have happily stood there for the rest of the night and just let the bass entrance him, but the other two had started dancing, so he felt like a spare part just watching them. He moved his shoulders to the beat, trying his best to keep up with them, which was a task easier said than done. 

Hyunjin was moving with a clearly practiced ease, his body like water as he practically floated in midair. It was like Felix had stepped right into a perfume ad. He half expected people to jump out from the shadows and start randomly spritzing it about while they wore random sailor costumes and spoke in a sexy french accent. 

Changbin, on the other hand, brought him back to reality. He was more wild with it, caring about absolutely nothing and no one as he swung his arms around like a helicopter and added to the bass as he thumped his feet on the floor. 

“You’re doing too much,” Hyunjin said, the words smoothed over by the amused twinkle in his eyes. He slunk over to Changbin and almost pressed their bodies together, barely a few centimetres of space between the two of them. 

“Rude,” Changbin shot back as he looked back at Hyunjin with a challenge in his eyes. 

One that it seemed Hyunjin was more than willing to accept as he slid his hands to Changbin’s waist, lazily guiding him through a roll of his hips over and over again. 

See, the thing was that Felix knew Changbin could dance. He had seen him be able to keep a rhythm on more than one occasion and had top secret insider information (from Changbin’s childhood bedroom) that he had done street dance classes from the ages of nine to thirteen. The guy could dance. What Felix also knew, though, was that in the face of a pretty person he would absolutely do everything in his power to make them like him. And it was easy, to be honest, because Changbin was a likeable guy, but what made him even more loveable to the likes of someone like Hyunjin was his ability to laugh and make fun of himself. At least it seemed that way judging by the fondness on Hyunjin’s face. 

Changbin was overdoing it on purpose, dropping lower than necessary, popping out limbs that didn’t need to come into play, tossing his head like he was whipping around a mane of hair. It was all very dramatic and Hyunjin was laughing right in his face, clinging on to Changbin’s biceps as he stopped dancing just to double over. 

Felix was laughing along too. How could he not when his friends were being such an absolute idiot? Only he could act like such a court jester at a legitimate event. He had next to no shame and it was one of the things Felix liked most about him. 

“You’re meant to follow the rhythm,” Hyunjin giggled. 

“I am the rhythm,” Changbin fired back, punctuated with another pop of his hips. 

Hyunjin continued laughing, catching Felix’s eye. 

“You want to learn too?” 

“Do I have to?” Felix laughed. 

Hyunjin’s actions spoke for him. He glided over, sweeping Felix up in his arms as he guided his movements with expertise. Felix found that he could do nothing except continue to laugh as the model puppeteered him, their hips rolling in synchronicity. 

He moved Felix one more time in the exaggerated motion until it clicked. 

“There,” Hyunjin winked. “You’ve got it.” 

“I look ridiculous,” Felix wheezed in return, but continued to dance anyway. He had to admit, there was a certain amount of reckless adrenaline that came with it, a sort of thrill that coursed through his body. He wasn’t worried about the other people, or the flashing lights, or the terrible drinks. He was just enjoying his time. 

“You always look ridiculous,” Changbin joked, shoving him lightly. 

Hyunjin shook his head and busied himself with fixing Changbin’s posture before Felix could retaliate. He couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of Hyunjin’s hands on his friend’s waist, and the way they curved into each other in a much more sensual way than necessary for a public setting. 

But it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He was having entirely too much fun, spinning around without a care, letting the bass take over, singing along to the words even though nobody else was. And, just for a while, it was like nothing else existed. Like he could have just remained in that little bubble of relaxation, of lack of complication, forever. There were no interviews, no screaming, no blinding flashes of light right in his face. He just focussed on the sweat on his temples, his friends dancing beside him, and the way his cheeks had started to hurt from his smile. 

*** 

When Felix wandered into work the next day it was with a pounding head and a dry mouth. He felt more than sorry for himself, bundled in an oversized black hoodie and sunglasses to hide his shameful appearance. He knew it was all in vain, that he was going to have to take it all off for the makeup girls and the stylists when they made him up for the photoshoot, but it was worth a try to save at least a bit of humiliation. 

He practically stumbled into the room and almost went crashing straight into a solid wall. A very familiar solid wall. 

“Sorry,” Felix said, taking a small step back and lifting his head to look at Chan. “Didn’t see you there, I… You-” 

“You didn’t tell me you were going out last night.” 

“-changed your hair.” 

It was almost completely buzzed off, short tufts an adorable juxtaposition to the platinum blonde that made him look even more atrociously hot. Felix couldn’t believe that he had somehow become even more attractive in less than a day while he looked like he had gone to hell and back in the same amount of time. God, Felix wanted to climb him like a tree, to throw himself at him with something wild and animalistic, to bury his nose in his hair and breathe him in. 

“I told you I was getting a haircut,” he replied. 

“I know but-” 

“You didn’t tell me you were going out,” he repeated. 

Felix blinked a little, swaying on his feet. He saw the way Chan’s hand flinched at his side, lifting barely an inch before it returned as Felix righted himself. Felix almost wished that he’d fallen flat on his face, that he’d given Chan the opportunity to hold him even if it was out of some sense of duty. All he wanted was to feel those firm arms wrapped around him, no matter the circumstance. 

But then the realisation was washing over his alcohol riddled brain. 

“How did you know I was out?” 

“Felix.” 

Just the way Chan said his name was enough to make him weak in the knees. 

“It’s all online.” 

“What is?” Felix asked, scrunching his nose up. 

“The pictures,” Chan prompted. “With you… And Hyunjin.” 

“Wait… What?” 

He fumbled to get his phone out, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair and squinting at the bright light of his screen. Sure enough, the second he opened it, he was flooded with notifications about him at the club. He’d been in such a daze getting ready that he hadn’t even paid much attention to the sudden influx, but almost all of them were posting, reposting, or referencing the same pictures: him and Hyunjin pressed right up against each other, hips flush, as they grinned right in each other’s faces. 

He clicked on one of the news sites, the headline reading ‘SPOTTED: Felix and Hyunjin get close in steamy night club scandal’. 

“It’s not safe,” Chan said, before Felix could form any words. 

“It was perfectly safe,” Felix replied, even laughing a little after he had gotten over the initial shock. 

Because it was funny! Him and Hyunjin had been dancing as friends, right in the middle of a room full of people, and Changbin had been dancing way more provocatively. Besides, if they were trying to get close they wouldn’t have done it in a place where they could clearly be seen. Some fucking scandal. 

“Nowhere you go without protection is safe.” 

There was a joke in there somewhere, but Felix decided not to make it. 

“It was a party for models,” Felix sighed, laughter dying out. “Pretty much a work event. It’s not like I was being mobbed by fans everywhere, was I? It was just a bunch of models and some staff filming and taking photos for a video. It’s not a big deal.” 

“It’s a big deal that you’re treating your safety as something of unimportance. It doesn’t matter if it was mainly models or… Or how you choose to spend your time with them. Anything could have gone wrong.” 

“But it didn’t. And I was just dancing, Chan.” 

“It doesn’t matter what you were doing. It matters that I wasn’t there.” 

Felix shrugged, “It was both of our days off. You had no reason to be there, right?” 

“Keeping you safe is good enough of a reason.” 

“Why does it matter so much?” Chan just stared at him. “I mean, you’re not my keeper.” 

It came out sharper than he intended it but he couldn’t deal with the dutiful bodyguard act, not that early in the morning. It felt like he was choking on it, the false tenderness wrapped round his throat like a tether. All he wanted was to succumb to it, to believe that Chan was genuinely concerned and was talking straight from one of Felix’s dreams but the reality was that all he cared about was his job. If something had happened to him, it would have fallen on Chan to take the blame. He didn’t actually care about being by his side… Or behind his back. 

“I’m your bodyguard,” Chan replied evenly, just as expected. “It’s my job.” 

And Felix wanted to be so much more than that. He wanted Chan to say that he wanted him, to say that he wanted him safe purely because it was the truth and not because it was something he was paid for. He wanted Chan to stand by his side and wrap an arm round his waist and protect him while Felix just basked in his presence. Was it ever going to happen? No. And it was starting to hurt to keep up the fantasy of it. Maybe Changbin had a point. Maybe it was time to stop the orbit. 

“From now on, if you’re leaving your apartment then tell me.” 

“So what, if I want to run to the corner shop I need to check in with you?” Felix crossed his arms over his chest. “If I want to hang out at Changbin’s I need an official escort? If I want to…” he hesitated for a second, scanning his brain. “If I want to hook up with someone,” as if he would ever want to do that with anyone else, “are you going to take me there and stand guard outside of the door?” 

Chan’s jaw flexed, words pushing through his gritted teeth when he next spoke. 

“If you were meeting someone I didn’t know, then yes. If that’s what it takes.” He let out a deep sigh. “I’d make sure the location was secure and stay nearby. That’s the protocol.” 

“Protocol,” Felix echoed, his voice flat. 

Their whole relationship had been a fucking protocol. It was probably time that Felix realised that was all it would ever be. 

“Whatever,” Felix laughed a little, an empty sound, brushing past Chan. He continued to talk, knowing that he would follow. “You still can’t tell me what to do on days off. You can’t follow me around like I’m some kind of liability.” 

“You’re high profile, Felix. You attract attention, you radiate energy. You can’t just walk around like a normal person because you aren’t one.” 

It felt like a stab, the final blow. The reminder that Felix and Chan would never be on the same level. That, despite Felix’s effort, despite him trying time and time again, Chan wanted the distance to remain. 

“There are dangerous people out there,” Chan continued. “And that doesn’t make you a liability, it makes them predators that I don’t want you to meet.” 

Felix whirled around to face him again, unable to help himself. 

“Do you ever see me as anything more than an assignment?” 

And all he was met with was a devastating sort of silence. Chan bowed his head a little so their eyes couldn’t meet, his stance perfect as always - hands clasped, shoulders tight. Frankly, that said more than words ever could. 

“Okay,” Felix nodded. “I’m going to get my makeup done. You don’t have to escort me to the other side of the room. I’d prefer it if you didn’t actually.” 

“I have to-” 

“Fucking hell. Just… Stand behind me, yeah? I don’t feel like speaking right now.” 

“Of course.” 

Chan fell into step behind him like he always did. Two feet back, a distance that felt like yards that Felix could somehow still feel against his back. 

It used to make him feel safe, the watchfulness, the steady energy, but in that moment all he felt was managed. Babysat. It was like he was some toddler running away and making Chan’s life harder and it made his heart pound in the most painful of ways to be reduced to such a thing. 

The makeup chair squeaked as Felix dropped himself on it, greeting the makeup artist with as much warmth as he could muster with such a headache. 

“Long day ahead, huh?” she chirped, clipping his hair back and beginning to run her brushes along his skin. 

He let his eyes flutter closed, not because of the products but because he didn’t want to accidentally catch Chan’s eyes in the mirror. 

“You could say that.” 

*** 

After that, things only became more unbearable. Instead of Chan maintaining his silent act, he was becoming more involved than ever in the worst way. It was like every day there was a new problem and Chan had to be the one to jump in and fix it over his shoulder, overbearing and brutally cold. 

When he was being taken for one of the video shoots, a poor runner had been on the receiving end of his tone. The poor guy looked new and a little nervous, fiddling with his earpiece as he directed Felix through the corridors. Felix didn’t mind much, trying to make light conversation to calm him down, but that all went down the drain the second he said: 

“It’s Studio C we’re going to, right?” 

“Studio B,” Chan replied, without even missing a beat. “Nobody is allowed in B, it’s under renovation.” 

“I’m sure he knows that,” Felix said. 

“Right, sorry,” the runner rambled, shaking his head and beginning to walk in the opposite direction. “I just got a bit confused.” 

Chan’s hands landed heavy on his shoulders, like he was prepared to steer Felix away from danger in the middle of an empty hallway. The runner locked eyes on the motion before quickly averting his gaze and picking up the pace, the slap of his shoes echoing through the halls. 

The next was a group of screaming fans that had been waiting outside of the building. Felix had just wanted to go home at the end of the long day, but he didn’t mind saying hello to them. After all, he wouldn’t be where he was without them, so a little bit of gratitude didn’t go amiss. 

No sooner had he walked over, one of the girls at the front had whipped her phone out, almost whacking Felix in the face with it as she wildly gestured. To him, it looked like more of a nervous energy, her hand shaking uncontrollably the closer he got to her. He was going to raise his hand and gently lower it, to try and calm her down a little and say a proper hi, but before he could Chan was stepping in. 

“No photos.” 

“Chan,” Felix hissed, not even bothering to turn around. “It’s fine.” 

“Felix has had a long day of shooting,” Chan told the group. “I think that’s enough cameras for today, don’t you?” 

Felix shook his head, already reaching out for a pen to sign one of their albums. 

“It’s alright,” he insisted, but Chan was louder and quicker. 

“No. Let’s go. It’s enough for today.” 

He was only able to cast them an apologetic smile before he was being frogmarched away and put into the car. Chan didn’t leave him until he was right at his apartment door, even though he had never so much as passed the front of the building before. A small part of him, that naive, stupid part that still adored him, wanted to jokingly invite him in, but he’d been acting like too much of a professional asshole to be granted that privilege. Whether he wanted it or not. 

Chan didn’t stop there. 

A few days later, during his lunch break, he had ordered takeout. It hadn’t arrived until after Felix had gone back to do his rerecords and holed himself back in the recording booth, so by the time he emerged the bag was on the table. It was a little crinkled and cold, but he didn’t mind that. Chan, however, snatched it away before he could do anything, opening the bag and inspecting the contents before handing it back over. 

Felix rolled his eyes as he shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. 

“What are you now, poison control?” 

“Making sure you’re safe. Standard procedure.” 

“Protocol, you mean.” 

But all of those were manageable. Felix was dealing with it. It was fine, he supposed, until it wasn’t. 

He was dressed and ready for a magazine shoot with Harper’s Bazaar. Everyone around him was laughing and joking, the atmosphere was up. Felix was feeling a little overstimulated, the collar of his shirt a little itchy, the copious hairspray making his nose twitch from the smell, the mascara making his eyes flutter. But he could deal with it, it was alright, he just had to get through a few pictures and the thing would be done. He could disappear backstage and rip the whole thing off, pretend like he’d had the time of his life and look back on the pictures fondly. 

Before Felix could step in front of the cameras, the photographer was looking at him quizzically, assessing him with his eyes. 

“Hmm… Maybe we could…” he reached out his hand and began adjusting Felix’s collar. The touch made him gulp a little, releasing a small cough from the tightness of it. 

“You should let him go,” Chan said from somewhere on his left. 

The photographer froze a little, making a small oh before releasing his grip slightly. And yes, it was nice not to have yet another feeling on his skin, but he was so annoyed that it had to come from the same person yet again. It was genuinely infuriating that Chan had to be the one to know him best, that he had to be the one to see everything, when he was only willing to act on it professionally. How was that fair? 

“Can you stop treating me like I’m made of glass?” he snapped. 

The room went deadly silent, the staff all looking at each other in a bewildered sort of confusion that had Felix regretting every single word he’d ever said. He didn’t want to leave that afternoon with them having a negative impression of him. Even though he had one of himself at that moment. 

Because he was being unfair and he knew that. Chan was professional. He was doing his job. That’s all he was ever fucking doing, but that wasn’t his fault. The only problem was that he didn’t seem to reciprocate Felix’s feelings… Or seem to really like him very much on a personal level. And it didn’t matter that Felix had a world ending crush on him or that he felt like his heart was on fire every time Chan was around. It wasn’t fair that he was snapping about very real behaviour and being a baby about someone not liking him back. He was a terrible human being and an even worse person to work with. 

Still, he couldn’t seem to detach the irrational side of his brain from making decisions. It was like he could see them all playing out in slow motion while he could do nothing to stop it. 

“I’m not,” Chan replied, steady as always. “I’m just-” 

“Doing your job. I know. I don’t need you to do it right now, I’m fine.” 

He could practically hear the cogs turning in Chan’s head and the way that he wanted to say more, but he stayed silent. Felix heard the step of his feet moving back a few steps, returning to the shadowy outskirts of the room where he could observe Felix from a distance instead. It was where he used to remain, out of sight, and it probably should have settled something inside of Felix, the knowledge that Chan had listened for once, but he only felt a nauseous apprehension and an even more overwhelming urge to run over there and beg for forgiveness that he knew Chan would deem unnecessary. 

“Right,” the photographer shouted, desperately trying to fill the room with some noise. “Shall we get started?” 

Felix nodded, turning his eyes towards the camera and focussing on nothing else but the bright flash in his eyes. Bright enough to distract from most, but not from the specific place that Chan had stationed himself across the room. 

Afterwards, he didn’t mean to hide. It was just pure instinct, the way he left the second he was freed. Felix slipped away through the noise and ruckus of the excited staff looking over the pictures and patting themselves on the back for a job well done. There was just too much of it. Too much noise, too much laughter, too many people. He smiled through it as much as he could, letting people clap him on the back and lightly ruffle his hair as he passed, but by the time he had reached the bathroom it felt like his body was vibrating out of control. 

He splashed some water on his face, letting the icy chill slowly pull him back down to the floor. It felt like he was treacle splatted against the wall, gravity kicking in at an almost agonising pace. 

Voices drifted from the hallway while Felix busied himself with the paper towels. 

“I’m just saying,” someone laughed. One of the security guards. “You saw those pictures, it wasn’t exactly friendly.” 

“Careful,” another warned. “Chan might have you for that.” 

Then he heard a laugh that his ears never usually had the pleasure of listening to. A sound that he kept locked away, hidden every time Felix was around, because he was the one person on earth deemed unworthy of it. 

He stilled, hand hovering in the air like he was waving a white flag. 

“Shut up,” Chan told them, through his beautiful laughter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, don’t we?” 

“Felix makes a habit of dancing with the sexiest models in Korea?” 

And just like that, the noise was dying. 

“Well, no, but-” 

“There you go then.” 

“You ought to do something about that, man.” 

“The fuck do you want me to do?” Chan said. 

The second security guy huffed a laugh, “So what, you just don’t care? Hwang Hyunjin is wrapped around him and you’re just, what… Okay with that?” 

Felix could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Surely he couldn’t be hearing them correctly? 

“I don’t get to care,” came his sharp reply. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“It means it’s not my place.” 

“Oh come off it,” the first guy snorted. “Let me tell you, if I was his personal bodyguard, my place would-” 

“Well, you aren’t,” Chan cut him off. There was an edge to his voice, something void of the previous laughter, something more like the tone he used when people were stepping too close to a clearly drawn boundary. “I am. His bodyguard, not his…” He cut himself off. 

Not his what? Felix was almost tearing the paper towel in two, the material wound up in his fist. 

“Not anything else,” Chan finished. “I’m nothing. Just someone who needs to protect him, and talking about stuff like that is the opposite, don’t you think? What he does with- with Hyunjin is none of my business. All I care about is if he’s safe.” 

Felix’s heart sank. Safe. That’s all Chan cared about. Sure, it was nice, it was a lovely thought and one that he hoped his bodyguard would have, but it barely scratched the surface of Felix’s emotions. He wanted to be wanted. He wanted to be desired, to be longed for, to be reflected with the same amount of pure yearning that he had experienced in their whole relationship. Well, maybe not totally pure in the sense that Felix wanted to tear the clothes from his body the majority of the time, but the point still stood. 

Safe was boring and easy and Felix wanted to feel like his skin was on fire. He wanted Chan to take him in his arms and show him everything he had been dreaming of. And, no matter how many times his brain yelled at him with everything it had to stop, no matter how many times Changbin had told him to let it go… It seemed impossible. Because, each time he did, each time he forced himself to turn a corner and try to forget, there Chan was with his gorgeous face and stupid saviour complex there to take care of him, and he melted all over again. 

He tossed the paper towel in the bin, running a hand through his hair and assessing his appearance in the mirror. He looked like a mess. His hair was in disarray, the water had made half of his makeup rub off so he looked a little like a sad clown, and the stupidly itchy collar was still wound round his neck. 

Felix tugged at the material, pulling and pulling until the whole shirt was off. He couldn’t deal with it any longer. 

He pulled open the door, strolling outside. All three men looked up at him with wide eyes when he emerged, though Chan was the only one to stand to attention and avert his eyes to a respectful level. Fucking ridiculous really, the one guy he wanted to ogle refusing to. 

“Here,” Felix said, tossing the shirt to the security guard nearest to him. “Can you take this back to the stylist? Thanks.” He turned his head towards Chan. “I’m ready to go.” 

Chan nodded, “Alright. Your driver called while you were shooting, there’s been some issues with his car so I can take you home.” 

Felix blinked at him, “Oh.” 

“Let’s get your clothes first.” 

“Right.” 

“Come on.” 

The rest happened too quickly for his brain to fully comprehend. He walked through the halls, arms shoved through his hoodie while someone’s hand wiped the remnants of makeup from his face, another flattened his hair, a third profusely apologised for the collar and thrust his sweats towards him. 

Everything blurred until he placed himself in the plush leather seats of Chan’s car. The second he sat down in the back, it was like everything came to a screeching halt, like he was finally given permission to let his mind rest and drift off to somewhere lighter. 

Of course, none of that could actually happen, since it was the first time he’d ever been somewhere like that. Normally he was driven in a company car with a driver, not in Chan’s personal ride where they were the only two people in there. He felt like an exposed nerve, wanting to relax into the seat but not wanting Chan to watch him do so in the rear view mirror. He wanted Chan to think of him as the hot rockstar he was, even though realistically he knew his bodyguard had seen him in way worse of a shape many times before. 

So, he sat up straight, watching the outside blur into one as Chan expertly drove the car down the highway and through the winding streets to his apartment building. All the while, Chan was normal. He was controlled, professional, quiet. It made Felix ache. 

When they finally pulled up outside and the engine died out, Felix silently unclipped his seatbelt. 

“You don’t have to walk me up,” he said, as he climbed out. But Chan had already opened his door, following after him without a word. Felix had learnt that it was best not to fight him on it, that he would only lose in the end. 

He was behind him all the way down the path, up the stairs, down the corridor towards Felix’s door. Neither of them said a word, the air too thick to add anything. Felix wondered if Chan was able to feel it too, the pressure of everything that remained in his head, or if it was just Felix making things up again that weren’t there. 

He pulled out the keys from his pocket, the jingling a welcome sound as he jammed it into the door. But he turned around before he fully opened it. He couldn’t tell if Chan was looking directly at him since he chose to look at his collarbone instead, the smooth skin that disappeared underneath the pressed white of his shirt. 

“You know…” he said, quietly. “Me and Hyunjin are just friends.” 

“Okay.” 

“I mean it. Nothing happened, everything was blown way out of proportion.” 

Chan nodded, “The media tend to do that. But whatever you are is none of my business.” 

“Sure.” IT IS IT IS IT IS. MAKE IT YOUR BUSINESS. I WANT IT TO BE YOUR BUSINESS. “I wanted to tell you anyway, though.” 

“Right.” 

“Um… Thank you for the ride. And for walking me up.” 

“No problem. It’s-” 

“It was really kind of you, I appreciate it… I know it’s part of your job but you’re really good at it.” 

“It is part of my job.” Felix tilted his head up slightly, watched Chan’s throat as he visibly swallowed. “But I do care.” 

Just not like that. Not the way I want you to. 

“Make sure you get some rest tonight, okay? If your driver can’t make it then I’ll pick you up.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“But then how will Korea’s own sun shine?” he said, the corners of his lips quirking slightly before they were forming their hard line again. Felix had to pinch himself a little to make sure he didn’t dream his little smile, but he still wasn’t entirely convinced. “I mean… Yeah, just, get some rest.” 

“I will,” Felix said, more breathily than he would have liked. 

He couldn’t help it… His knight in shining armour, his daydream, his heart stealer had basically just called him the sun. How was he supposed to stay normal about that? How was he supposed to act like that was a perfectly normal thing to say and not rock the boat, not make some stupid joke or say something equally as sappy that would make Chan retreat. 

Chan lifted his hand, thumb brushing against Felix’s cheek. He had to hold himself together, had to force himself to stay impossibly still instead of turning into a pile of goo like his whole body was crying out for. He wanted to keen into his hand, to burst into tears, to shout in his face and ask what the hell he was doing. He wanted to explode into a firework, into the whole display, wanted to press their lips together and never surface, wanted Chan to claim him. 

But he stayed still. Right up until the moment Chan’s touch disappeared. 

“You, uh, had some makeup left there,” he explained, as he went right back to his default position. As if nothing had happened. 

“Oh. Yeah. Okay, thanks.” 

“See you tomorrow, Felix.” 

“See you tomorrow.” 

He forced himself to turn around, to open the door and place himself on the other side of it. Only then did he allow his body to let go, to crumble on the floor and expel all of that nervous energy. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling like the entire room with a whole lot of emotions, but the main thought that remained was: 

What the actual fuck. 

Felix scrambled to get his phone out, shaking fingers flying over the keyboard. 

Felix: BINNIE 

Changbin: FELIX 

Felix: Chan touched my fucking cheek 

Changbin: Um… Congrats? 

Or I’m sorry that happened 

Felix: WHAT DO I DO???? 

Changbin: What do you WANT to do? 

Felix: I don’t know… 

It’s all just so confusing yknow? 

Like I know I’m reading into it all too much

And I know it’s probably nothing 

But trying to forget about him and forget about my feelings

It’s like trying to cut out one of my organs 

It hurts Bin 

Changbin: I know Lix 

Just remember though 

You can live without one of your kidneys 

Felix: What do you mean 

Changbin: Like I’ve told you 

You’re the SUN 

You’re the goddamn body 

It might hurt to reorbit 

It might hurt to remove a part of you that’s causing pain

But in the long run? It’ll be worth it 

You can shine 

You can live 

Just make sure you think about what’s happening 

CLEARLY 

Because if it’s not worth it… I think you know what you gotta do

Felix: <3 

Felix tossed his phone, watching it slide across the floor as he went back to laying flat. His heart was still trying to escape his chest, his blood coursing so loud that the ocean was in his eardrums. 

Changbin had a point, and it was a point that Felix had unsuccessfully been trying to follow for weeks. But he just wanted to live in the moment for a little while longer, to hold the feeling of tingling skin and a racing heart for just a second more before he had to let it go. 

*** 

Felix was normally alone when he ate his lunch - that is when he had a proper lunch break. The rest of the staff were usually busy with their own stuff, leaving Felix on his own for a while to decompress or listen to music or do whatever else he wanted to do until they needed him again. 

He’d forgotten to make lunch that day and he didn’t particularly want anything from the food table, something vaguely unappealing about it. Felix couldn’t really put his finger on what it was but he’d taken one look, turned on his heel and walked straight back to the dressing room that had the comfiest sofas in it. It was better to just spend that time chilling rather than trying to force food he didn’t want down his throat. 

He must have fallen asleep, for how long he couldn’t say, because he was gently being nudged on his shoulder as his eyes fluttered open. 

“Felix,” Chan murmured. “You need to eat.” 

He grumbled a gargle of sounds in response. 

“Alright, sit up.” 

Felix did as he was asked, not even questioning it. 

“Here,” Chan said, as he placed a paper wrapped bag in his hands. 

“Did you…” Felix opened his eyes properly, staring down at it, then to Chan, then back at the bag. 

It was from the same bakery. He’d bought his favourite sandwich again. 

Chan shrugged, “I was out buying lunch for other people too.” 

Well he knew for a fact that wasn’t true because they wouldn’t have packed his sandwich in a single bag. For his own sanity, though, for his own peace of mind, he decided to believe him. After all, he was trying to remain on the straight and narrow, to kick his wandering mind into place and stop the fantasies. That wouldn’t happen if he kept staring at the small details that didn’t mean anything at all. 

Great, Chan had bought him a sandwich. That was really normal behaviour. Very professional, very nice of him. Yeah. 

“Thanks,” Felix nodded, unwrapping the food and taking a bite without even checking it. Mayo no mustard, as expected. 

He thought that Chan would leave after that, that he would go and stand out in the hall or in the doorway or go and make his own lunch. Instead, he sat himself down on the same sofa Felix was on. They weren’t right next to each other, he was one cushion over, enough space to have deniable plausibility, but Felix could still feel the warmth of his body and smell fresh cotton. 

It was fucking ridiculous, to be honest, that Chan was able to rewire his brain so quickly. 

Felix watched out of the corner of his eye as Chan sat forwards, forearms resting on his knees. He wasn’t even doing anything. He wasn’t on his phone, wasn’t looking at paperwork, wasn’t doing anything remotely like working. He just sat there, right knee jogging a little as he stared dead ahead. 

And did Felix let his gaze wander as he tore into the sandwich? Of course not, he was trying to kick a habit, not enable it. He could just see him in his peripheral vision, that’s all. He could see the lines of his back, his position pulling the shirt taught to his skin. He could see the fade of blonde hair on his neck, trailing to his nape, the way the shortness allowed him to see even more skin than before, the backs of his ears where the piercing holes lived. He wished he could see Chan with them in, wished he could suck the lobes into his mouth and- nope, nope, he wasn’t even looking at them. 

“Is there too much mayo?” Chan said, after a few minutes of silence. 

Felix startled a little, blinking at his back. 

“No, um, it’s fine. Great, actually.” 

“Good.” 

Chan’s knee stopped jogging for a second, then started again. 

Chan didn’t turn around at all, but that didn’t stop Felix’s heart from racing. And it was crazy because nothing was even happening but he couldn’t help but feel like it was something anyway. Chan didn’t do stuff like that. He didn’t sit next to him while he ate, he didn’t ask questions about it, he didn’t usually want to be around Felix during breaks where he could help it. That was normally where he would go off and laugh with the staff, letting out all the energy he kept boxed up when Felix was near. 

He was probably still just looking too deeply at it and that’s where all his problems laid. Chan was his bodyguard, he had done a nice thing, and that’s where Felix should have left it. Trying to add more just brought unnecessary complications. 

“Make sure you finish it,” Chan said abruptly, standing up and walking out of the room without another word. 

Felix stared at the door for longer than he probably should have done, mayo smudged around his gormless mouth. 

It was nothing though. It was just a sandwich, he was being crazy and probably just needed to be brought back down to earth. 

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the newness of it meant something, that the strangeness went far past the line of professionalism and responsibility. Because Felix hadn’t changed, he didn’t need constant supervision or babysitting. So why had Chan? 

Felix wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at his half eaten sandwich. He felt his mouth twist into a frown. 

He had felt the weight of Chan’s responsibility for most of his career. He knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of his job description. It was firm, distant, effective. And, while Felix had been deluding himself, it had never truthfully felt anything like that warmth before. 

And that’s what he was struggling to properly name. Because how could he label something that he had never truly been on the receiving end of before? 

He assumed that it would be an outlier, an anomaly, something that he could use to soothe himself to sleep while he tried to get over his sexy bodyguard and his muscular arms that would be put to best use around Felix’s body. 

Apparently though, Chan was intent on keeping him on his toes, on stopping him from ever being able to rest his mind and stop second guessing. Because the nice, caring things just… Kept happening? 

Felix was a musical guest on one of the late night talk shows, getting ready to go on stage. He was the physical embodiment of energy, jumping up and down to hype himself up, clapping his hands together, pacing. Basically, he was doing everything he could to expel his nervousness before he went out onto the sound stage and performed like it was a sold out arena. 

“Thirty seconds till you’re on, Felix,” one of the show handlers told him. 

“Great,” he grinned, shaking out his hands and getting ready to position himself by the stage entrance. 

Before he could, a gentle hand was pressed on his shoulder. 

“Wait,” Chan said from behind him. “Stay still.” 

He did as he was told but not so much down to choice as it was because the touch froze him. Somehow he felt even more electrified than before, standing in limbo waiting for whatever it was that Chan had paused him for. 

Then, he felt one of his hands brushing the shell of his ear, adjusting the plastic coil of his left in-ear. From all of his jumping around it must have dislodged itself. 

Chan had noticed it. He must have been watching Felix like a hawk to have seen such a minute detail but Felix couldn’t think on the details too heavily because he was being counted down in-

“Five, four, three, two, anddd… You’re on!” 

So, he raced off, and it was forgotten about. Mostly. 

It would have been easier if he’d stopped there but two days later, the mental olympics continued. 

Felix was filming some shots for one of his new music videos. He didn’t have to do much, really, the backup dancers were the real art of the shot, he was just in the middle lipsyncing his heart out and having a dramatic breakdown to the lyrics. The only problem with that was, he was genuinely freezing, the hair on his arms standing up on end. 

He must have complained about it one too many times since the director and his backup dancers were both playfully teasing him about it. 

“You should do some warmups with us, Lix,” one of the dancers said as they shoved him lightly in the arm. 

“I’d probably tear the leather of these fucking pants if I tried what you were doing,” he snorted. “I’ll just deal with the cold. Blue lips will be the hot new trend when this drops, mark my words.” 

But it turned out that it didn’t have to be. 

When he returned to his dressing room he found one of his hoodies slung over the back of his chair. He definitely hadn’t gone there with it that morning. In fact, he didn’t think he’d seen it before in his life. It was big, too big for him for sure even just by holding it up. But it looked clean, so he didn’t really care too much about the details. That is until he pulled it over his head, careful not to smudge his hair or makeup, and got hit with the fresh smell of cotton and something unmistakably Chan. 

He waited until his bodyguard came to escort him back to the set. 

“Was this you?” he asked, gesturing to the hoodie. 

“Thought you could use it,” was the only explanation he gave. “They need you back now. You should take it off.” 

“Right… Do you want it back?” 

“No. Keep it.” 

It was the warmest that Felix had felt that entire day, a flush creeping from the base of his neck all the way up to his hairline. 

“You’re cold. I’m not,” he said, like it was just that simple, like he wasn’t setting Felix on fire. “We should go.” 

And then he just stepped back out of the room like nothing had happened, waiting outside the door for Felix and only moving when Felix was precisely three paces ahead of him. 

He thought that would have been the end of it. It wasn’t. 

The day after that, Felix didn’t remember much of anything. 

He had barely slept the night before, fitful and annoyed by the constant echo of keep it until he thought he was losing his mind. Annoyingly, that meant that during the day he was practically out of commission, running on fumes the entire time. He was awake when he was absolutely needed but the second he was let go his eyes were drifting shut, no matter where he was. Whether that be on a plastic chair by the food table, the comfy sofas, or just straight up napping on the floor. 

Most of the staff just let him be. A few times he had woken up with some of them lightly petting his head and offering him a drink or some food but for the majority of the day it seemed an unspoken rule that he was left alone unless actually needed. 

The only clear part of the day was when he felt a firm squeeze on his shoulder. 

“Up,” Chan muttered, close enough that Felix could hear it on the shell of his ear. “Walk with me.” 

Felix groaned but complied, pushing himself up onto his feet. He wobbled a little in the process, half asleep limbs not complying with his brain, but Chan had been there to grip his elbow. Neither of them mentioned it and the touch disappeared the second Felix regained his balance. 

Outside, the cool breeze was a little comforting as it brushed against his face. It was sobering, in a way. Felix closed his eyes, taking it in. 

“You didn’t sleep last night,” Chan said. An observation rather than a question. 

“You stalking me now?” Felix asked, laughing as much as he could muster. 

Chan didn’t respond to that, standing silently beside him as Felix closed his eyes and took in the air. 

“What does it matter to you anyway?” He asked. “My sleep schedule isn’t a part of your job description.” 

“Making sure you’re well rested is part of keeping you safe.” 

Felix opened his eyes just to roll them, “Is it though?” 

“If you aren’t well rested, then your reaction time drops,” he said. “That could leave you vulnerable.” 

Felix huffed, “There it is.” 

That sick sense of duty. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

Felix continued to stare forwards, watching cars drive past. He made the most of the small snippet of silence, the only part of the day that he had been awarded some.

Chan cleared his throat a little. 

“Drinking something warm before you sleep helps. It helps me anyway.” 

Felix blinked a little, finally looking round at him properly. 

“It helps you?” 

“Yeah.” 

He didn’t think Chan had ever voluntarily said anything about his own life. He was always so intent on keeping things professional, keeping things in their own lines that even learning something so small felt victorious. Yet there was also that little voice in the back of his head, the pinnacle of confusion that asked the simple question, why? 

Felix held his gaze a second longer than he meant to. He almost asked something else. Almost. 

Instead, he nodded. 

“Okay, thanks.” 

And they went back inside like nothing had happened. 

*** 

The rest of the staff had left hours ago, leaving Felix alone in the rehearsal room. All except for Chan, that is. He insisted on staying, despite Felix telling him an uncountable number of times that he could just go home. He had just shaken his head at the mere insinuation of leaving him there by himself, standing guard at the door with crossed arms as he listened to Felix sing over and over again. 

Felix was pretty much sick of hearing himself, so he had no idea how annoyed Chan must have been listening to him sing the same line repeatedly. 

He tried it again anyway, wanting the whole ordeal to be worth his time instead of stomping out of there with a sore throat and nothing else to show for it. He was a fucking singer for crying out loud, he should have been able to practice a line of his own song without wanting to throw himself on the ground in a fit of fury. He also maybe wanted to show Chan just how good he could be. Maybe. A little. And it was a stupid thought because he was trying to steer clear of his own stupid feelings but they took over him anyway. 

The last note cracked halfway through, just as it had the last five times he’d sung it. 

“Fuck,” Felix hissed, dragging a hand over his face to cover his shame. 

Through the gaps in his fingers, he saw Chan shift a little on his feet, but he said nothing. Felix wasn’t sure if he wanted him to or not. He’d been acting so confusing recently, but whether the silence was better than that remained unclear. 

Felix slowly took a breath in through his nose, dropping his hand down and letting his arms loosely swing. He rolled his shoulders, once, twice, three times, and tried again. 

It cracked. Again. 

“Fuck,” Felix said, louder. 

He threw his head back in frustration, hands briefly fisting in his hair before he was throwing them back to uselessly hang at his sides again. Everything about him felt useless, if he was being honest. Nothing was going right and if he had any chance at making his next album a success and not becoming a disappointment to the entire world… He needed to get his act together. 

“I’m done,” he announced, more so to the room than to Chan specifically. “Fucking done. If I hear that line once more tonight then I’m setting myself on fire, I swear to God.” 

The only answer he got was from the hum of the fluorescent lights and that didn’t do much to settle him. 

He tipped his head back upright, hair falling into his face as he tried to take slow, measured breaths. 

Felix heard Chan walking forwards, his footsteps falling in time with his breathing but making his heart race a thousand times quicker. As much as he tried to stop it, it was futile. Chan would just have that effect, it seemed, whether he wanted him to or not. It was just one of those truths that he wouldn’t be able to change. 

“It’s good you’re stopping,” Chan said. “You shouldn’t strain yourself.” 

Felix made a vague noise of disagreement but he didn’t outright argue. 

Then, gently, fingertips ran through the front tendrils of his hair to sweep it back from his eyes. With it, he stole even the unsaid words in Felix’s mind and the hinge that kept his mouth clamped shut. 

The movement wasn’t quick, or clinical. He could feel the warm scrape of Chan’s fingers against his forehead, feel pinpricks of heat running down his skin. He wanted to nuzzle into the touch, wanted to do anything to keep it there, but Chan was bringing his hand back before Felix could do anything except stare. 

His heart stopped for a second before it was rebooted, something thumping even more brutally than before. It was a sudden and disorientating feeling, but the only thing he had to grab was Chan and he didn’t think that would help the situation. 

“You… Didn’t have to do that,” he whispered. 

Chan’s hand clasped back in front of him. 

“Well, it’s my responsibility.” 

Fucking responsibility. That’s what he was going with. 

Chan could say a lot of things that Felix would have and had believed. He had tried to accept that things were going on inside his head that just weren’t reality. He had appreciated his kindness and taken the small pieces of warmth that Chan had tried to gift, even if he’d been a bit sceptical about the meaning. But touching his hair when there was absolutely no other glaring reason to… Felix couldn’t sit idly by as he wrote that off as professionalism, not when his heart was about to explode. 

Felix let out a harsh breath, “Responsibility?” 

Chan nodded. 

“To fix my hair.” 

“It was in your eyes,” Chan said, like that explained it all away. 

“But that’s not your job, is it?” 

“My job is to make sure that you’re okay.” 

Felix squinted a little, “It was just a bit of hair. It wasn’t harming me.” 

He waited a beat, and Felix almost hoped that he would give some kind of explanation. That he was ramping up to a big reveal that would put everything into perspective. 

“You’re exhausted.” 

Clearly not, then. 

Felix crossed his arms, “That’s got nothing to do with this.” 

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.” 

“And that’s your problem?” Felix asked with a humourless laugh. 

“It becomes my problem if you burn yourself out.” 

Felix just hummed. 

“What?” 

“Is that what I am to you? Something for you to manage? Is that why you’ve been acting so differently recently, because you’ve been trying to paper over the cracks and polish me so I’m not… Problematic anymore.” 

“No, that’s not-” 

“You keep acting like I’m this fragile piece of glass that you have to keep polishing and I’m sick of it Chan.” 

“I’m not-” 

“You are.” 

Chan’s voice stayed infuriatingly level, “You’re my responsibility. It’s my responsibility to keep you safe.” 

“Oh and there we fucking go again! Jesus Christ, you don’t do all of this out of responsibility! Fixing my in-ears, maybe, yeah. Making sure I’m well rested, sure that can count. But you sure as hell don’t have to buy me lunch and sit there while I eat, you don’t have to give me your hoodies, you don’t have to fucking brush the hair away from my face because none of that is in your job description and you know that.” 

“Felix…” 

“You’re not my kidney, okay?” 

“What?” 

“You’re not-” Felix ran a hand through his hair and wished it was Chan doing it instead. “You’re not something I can just cut out and carry on. That’s not how this works.” 

Chan just stared at him, not saying a single word. 

“You’re my heart,” Felix said, a little quieter. “And the more you call me your responsibility like that’s all I am to you, it…” His voice cracked a little. “It just… It hurts.” 

The words were out there, along with the cracked broken thing he called a heart, and he instantly wished that he could take it all back. But Chan had heard them, he had heard his confession and nothing would ever be the same again. 

Something flickered through Chan’s eyes but his face remained the same. 

“Felix…” 

His soft voice was enough to cause the final blow to Felix’s chest. 

“Can you…” Felix tried to steady himself, looking right in his eyes. “Can you really tell me that this is just your job? Still? Are you really saying that this is all it is to you?” 

“Felix, I…” Chan closed his eyes for a second, before he took a small step back. “We can’t.” 

It was the answer that he had been expecting, the answer that he’d known would come all along. Still, it was like a fatal blow, something that knocked him back even when he was somehow still standing on his own two feet. It felt like his soul was crumpled on the floor behind him, too weak to get up, too embarrassed to crawl away. 

“Why not?” he found himself asking, anyway. Because at that point the pain surely couldn’t have got any worse. “Why can’t we?” 

Chan looked away and it should have been a relief to no longer be carrying the weight of his gaze. Instead it felt like something had been ripped from his arms. 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“And that’s not an answer.” 

Chan’s brow furrowed, “Felix.” 

“No,” he said, sharper. “You don’t get to act the way you have and then just…” he gestured helplessly. “You don’t get to just leave it there! It’s not fair.” 

“You know why.” 

“Then say it. Stop being a fucking coward and talk to me.” 

Chan was silent for a moment and Felix felt himself preemptively stepping away, like he could already hear the incoming answer. 

Chan swallowed, “It would complicate everything.” 

Felix heard a small, broken laugh and realised only a beat later that it was his own. 

“Right,” he nodded. “Of course.” 

He turned around and headed towards the door, picking up his jacket on the way. His eyes were trained on his escape route, on anywhere that wasn’t Chan, on the empty expanse of the hallway that he wanted to scream all his frustrations into but knew he couldn’t. 

“Let me take you home,” he heard Chan say behind him. 

“No,” Felix replied, cold and firm. “And don’t follow me.” 

He didn’t look back and the door slammed shut behind him. 

*** 

Music was shaking the floor before Felix realised where he was. And even that was a loose statement. He knew he was in a club, the lights blurring his vision and the sticky bar making his jacket sleeves a mess, but the actual location was a mystery to him. Not that it mattered, he was there to drink and forget the rest of his shitty day, it was pretty much going the way he’d planned. 

He tilted his head back as he downed another shot, the liquid burning considerably less than before. 

Felix planted it back on the counter with a dull thud that he could barely hear. When the bartender came back around, he pushed it forwards with a bit more force than necessary. 

“Again.” 

His ribs shook from the bass as it thrummed through his body. It was good. It drowned everything else out, made his whole life a blur of technicolour. He wanted it to stay that way for a while, until the bodyguard shaped figment at the forefront of his brain lost its shape. 

Felix repeated his little routine for as long as it took to do so. 

We can’t. 

Drink. 

It would complicate everything. 

Another shot, bartender. 

Responsibility, responsibility, responsibility. 

Drink, drink, drink, drink, drink. 

“Holy shit!” He heard a voice shout beside him. “You’re Lee Felix!” 

He turned around at half speed, the room tilting on its axis as he did so. The person seemed to be standing on their side, half their face a dizzying static. 

“Hello?” the person said again, getting closer to his face. They smelt like burnt orange and beer. “You’re Lee Felix, right?” 

“Me? Yeah.” 

The person’s face split into something wide and disbelieving. 

“No fucking way! Guys, guys, look!” 

Felix squinted as more silhouettes joined them, blobs with grinning teeth closing in on him as he tilted precariously on the bar stool. 

“Oh my God, it is you.” 

“Can we get a photo?” 

“Wait, are you here alone? You should hang with us!” 

Someone shoved a drink in his hand as Felix laughed with a sound that felt too loud even for his own ears. It added to the deafening volume in the room like it was meant to be there and none of the others stopped for even a second. 

“Come on,” they laughed with him. “Drink with us.” 

Felix didn’t even ask what was in it, just tipped his head back and downed it in one. Whatever it was tasted slightly better than the shots and added to the beautiful blurring world around him. 

A hand caught on his wrist, tugging just enough to have Felix up on his feet. 

“You have to dance with us!” 

Felix let himself be pulled, let himself be swallowed whole by the dark hole they called a dance floor. It was a terrifying whirlpool of heat, perfume, and spilt drinks that acted like the club’s own personal sprinkler system. It was horrifyingly overstimulating in the way that Felix absolutely needed to drown out any conscious thoughts that could have been running through his brain. All he needed was the thumping bass, piercing laughter in his ears, and the knowledge that the people around him wanted him there. 

Bodies were pressing up against each other with every move. Someone’s hand braced itself on the small of Felix’s back and he let it stay there, enjoying the tantalising warmth and the slick of sweat from the touch. 

It would complicate everyth- 

Felix spun around until he felt so dizzy he was almost sick, laughing through the nausea and letting someone - multiple people? - hold his hands. He wanted to pretend none of it mattered. 

“You’re so fucking hot, by the way.” 

It was shouted in his ear, so close he could almost feel their tongue. Felix grinned at the sentiment, like it was enough to cool the ache steadily burning its way through his chest. 

He threw his hair back, embracing the sweat dripping through it, loving the way the sharp movement made the entire room spin. 

He accepted drink after drink from the numerous hands that pressed the cool glass into his grasp. Felix couldn’t make out their faces properly but the sweet laughter that his slurred thanks brought was good enough for him to gulp them down while they cheered. It was nice, hearing their praise. 

“Hey, we’re heading somewhere else after this,” one of them said, leaning close enough that he could see their eyes. Were they cross eyed or was he? “It’s quieter. After party vibes, y’know? You should come.” 

Felix blinked at them. 

“It’ll be a laugh!” Someone else added. He couldn’t see them. 

The one in front of him smiled, their teeth were purple and red from the lights. It looked cool. Felix wanted multi coloured teeth. If he drank enough would his teeth change colour? Maybe he should try. 

Time was a thing of irrelevance. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been dancing and he didn’t care. Someone’s hands were still on him. Maybe the same ones, maybe not. Again, he didn’t care. They could all have been holding him and he wouldn’t have minded. 

“Come on,” purple teeth smiled. “We’re grabbing an Uber. It’ll be here in five minutes.” 

Five minutes. 

Felix tried to envision five minutes but he couldn’t. Had he been at the club for five minutes? Five hours? Days? 

If he’d drank every minute he’d remained, how many would that have been? How many glasses had left condensation on his fingers? How many burns did he have on the inside of his throat? 

A different hand slipped into his. He thinks it was different. 

“Come on, let’s go!” 

The music felt suddenly far away as he battled through a cornfield made of human bodies. Why were they turning it down? He was still dancing. He was still moving, still enjoying, still tipping further and further into- 

“Woah,” a voice laughed as his face almost crashed into their back. More hands gripped his arms as he was carried through the sound waves. “Easy!” 

He didn’t feel easy. 

They were moving, actually moving not dancing, towards the bright green sign above the door. What did it say? He wasn’t sure but they were heading towards it in a gaggle of energy that Felix was feeling increasingly dissociated from. 

Felix turned his head so fast it only added to the blur. He tried to pinpoint something familiar, tried to anchor himself, but there was nothing. No names, no faces, no one who truly knew him. 

His heart kicked the inside of his chest. 

Responsibility. 

“Wait,” Felix coughed out. 

“Huh? Hold on, we can’t hear you.” 

Felix couldn’t answer, couldn’t catch his breath enough to repeat himself. He just let himself be carried through the doorway and out into the biting night air. There was traffic, noise, an entirely different rhythm to the beat he had surrounded himself with on the inside. The inside where it had been a controlled mess, a mess that he could lose himself in. But there? It seemed like something that would just get him lost. 

The reality of the situation hit him all at once. 

He didn’t know who any of them were. He didn’t know where he was. And he was very, very drunk. 

“Give me a sec,” Felix mumbled, fumbling for his phone as he tried to untangle himself from the thousands of arms around him. “I need to… I need to…” 

His fingers felt too big, the screen too bright. Everything swam, nothing focussing. 

“Do you need any help?” He distantly heard, but he ignored it, pressing call before he could lose sight of the name he needed. 

It rang twice before he heard his safety net securing in place. 

“Felix?” 

He didn’t hear responsibility, only relief. 

“...Chan.” 

“Where are you?” 

“I… I…” The people holding him had let go, he watched them take a few steps to the side of the street, peering out as they looked for their taxi. To him, they had travelled a million miles away. “There’s… There’s a lot of cars.” 

“You’re outside?” 

Felix could hear rustling down the line as Chan spoke. 

“Yes.” 

“Are you safe?” 

He looked around, vision lagging seconds behind him. Purple teeth, the rest of the group that had merged together in a blob of humans, laughter, camaraderie, unknown. 

“I think so? I-I don’t know.” 

“Hey! The Uber’s almost here!” 

“Chan,” Felix said, panic edging his tone. 

He didn’t want to go with them, didn’t know where they were going. But what was the alternative? How could he stand on the side of the street by himself when he didn’t even know where he was? 

“I know,” he replied, voice soothing. “Can you read any signs, Felix?” 

He tried to read some but the letters all blurred into one. 

“I can’t,” he said, panicked tears muddying his vision even further. 

“That’s alright. Can you send me your location?” 

Felix turned the phone onto loudspeaker, by some miracle, and stared at the useless block in his hand. All of the buttons were swimming all over the place and he had to squint to try and make things out. 

“I don’t think I can.” 

“You can,” Chan said, reassuringly, continuing to move about. Felix could hear the stomp of shoes and the jangle of keys. “Take a breath, open our chat, click the plus and share the location. Got that?” 

Felix let out a breath as instructed, albeit a shuddering one. 

“Got it.” 

He tapped about on his phone with shaking, uncoordinated fingers until Chan gave an approving hum. 

“Okay, I’ve got you.” The stomping got louder followed by the slamming of a car door. Felix listened intently as he heard the specific sound of Chan’s car roar to life, it was way more comforting than the cacophony in front of him. “I’m coming to you, stay where you are alright?” 

“Alright,” Felix tried to hold himself together as he waited outside the club, listening to the rumbling of Chan’s engine to try and keep himself sane. Chan didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t have to. Felix knew that he was coming, he knew he would be safe. 

But then the Uber pulled up and he felt his heart drop. The group cheered as they opened the doors to pile in, seemingly unaware of Felix’s panic. 

“Chan… They’re going.” 

“Who is?” 

“The people.” 

“What people, Felix?” 

“The… The people,” he insisted, pointing to them even though Chan couldn’t see. 

Purple teeth waved to him to try and get his attention. 

“Felix!” They cried, hurrying forwards with one of the others when he remained put. Even if he wanted to, his feet felt like they were cemented to the pavement. “Come on, we have to go.” 

All he could hear was a static in his ears as they linked his arms and began walking towards the road together. He couldn’t even hear Chan anymore, if he was even still talking to him through the phone dangling from his hand. Maybe he had given up, decided Felix wasn’t even worth it and stayed at home. 

He took step after tumbling step, foot echoing with each thud like he was being marched to his doom. The Uber was dark and full of faceless characters with their hands outstretched ready to steady him… Or pull him in. Had they really been his friends before? Had they really been genuine fans wanting to hang out and have a good time? Or were they just waiting for that specific moment, waiting for the right moment to pounce and steal him away forever. 

“Felix… Are you alright?” 

He could feel wetness on his cheeks, feel his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. 

“I-I don’t… I can’t… Where, um, where is… I-” 

“Felix.” 

And that was the most comforting sound he had heard from that whole place. He let his eyes flutter shut when strong, capable hands replaced the ones gripping him. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmured in his ear. 

“We were just going to an after party, we swear,” they said. “We didn’t mean any harm.” 

Chan hummed, “Well, he won’t be going. Come on, Felix.” 

He was practically half carried over to Chan’s car as he inhaled the comforting scent of cotton. On the way over his knees buckled a couple times, but Chan was always there to keep him upright. 

The last thing he remembered before his brain shut off was the plush leather of Chan’s seats and the distant tune of the radio. 

*** 

When Felix woke up the next morning, it was with a pounding head and an embarrassment so harsh it made him want to burrow under the covers and never resurface. He couldn’t believe how he’d acted, the things he had done, the things he had drunk… All of it was a mess of technicolour and bad decisions that had culminated in him making a complete fool of himself. 

Confessing to Chan once would have been bad enough but having to call him in a panic was just the cherry on top of his humiliation. He would have spent the entire rest of his life in bed, trying to forget the rest of the world, if it hadn’t been for the smell of burning wafting from the kitchen. 

Felix blinked at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure out whether it was worth letting his apartment burn down. But, ultimately, he didn’t want to deal with the hassle of moving all of his things, so putting out whatever spontaneous fire had appeared was probably the best option. Either that or kicking out Changbin for using his kitchen without asking. 

Carefully, he rolled onto his side, wincing as even the slight movement made his head feel like it was imploding. He belatedly realised that his shoes were gone and he’d somehow changed from his outside pants to an old pair of sweats. His jacket was folded neatly onto his chair, painkillers were neatly set out on the bedside table next to a drink of water, and his phone had been plugged into the wall. 

There was only one person that would have been thoughtful enough to do all of that. 

He pushed himself upright, forcing down the pills and pushing himself up out of bed. It took most of his willpower, but he managed to get his feet moving enough that he could slowly pad out of his room and over to the kitchen, investigating the source of the smell. 

The kitchen blinds were half opened, letting in a soft stream of golden light. Chan was standing at the stove, one hand resting on the counter while the other messed with something in a pan. Though he seemed relatively calm for the horrendous smell that was pouring from it, it was a wonder the smoke alarms hadn’t been the thing that woke him up that morning. 

But none of that mattered to him. The only thing he was thinking about was the fact that he’d stayed. 

Chan was wearing one of his black hoodies and comfy black pants. He must have been wearing them when he’d raced to Felix’s rescue but he just hadn’t noticed. Felix couldn’t believe the first time he had ever had the opportunity to see Chan out of his (admittedly attractive as hell) pressed shirts and smart trousers, and he had been too drunk out of his mind to truly appreciate it. Well, he was doing a lot of appreciating there. As much as he could do with such a pounding head anyway. 

“Morning,” Chan said, without even turning around. 

Felix sat down at the kitchen island, feet swinging from the stool. 

“Morning.” 

God, it was so incredibly awkward. He didn’t know how to fix it, so he just let it be. 

“How’s your head?” Chan asked. 

“Fine,” Felix lied. 

Chan grabbed a spatula, flipping over whatever batter looking concoction was in the pan and putting it on a plate. 

“Are you trying to burn down my kitchen?” Felix said, without even thinking. It was too teasing, too familiar. 

Finally Chan turned around, placing the plate of charred food on the island. He hesitantly pushed it towards Felix and the look on his face was enough to make his heart clench. He looked so unsure and a little disappointed, the sudden unguarded expression was too much to handle almost. 

“I tried to make pancakes,” Chan shrugged, like it was nothing. “You don’t have to eat it.” 

But Felix was already shovelling it in his mouth, trying to smile as he did so. He swallowed it down like it was something gourmet, like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. 

“It’s good,” he insisted, as he swallowed down the burnt pancake. 

Chan scratched the back of his head, huffing out something that may or may not have been a laugh. 

“I’ll, um, make you a coffee.” 

He switched the kettle on, letting the sound of slowly boiling water fill the silence between them. 

Felix took a breath. 

“About last night…” he said. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry. You can always call me.” 

“I was a complete mess.” 

He could only imagine what he must have looked like. Although he probably wouldn’t have to, the headlines were probably piling up on his charging phone as they spoke. Felix could practically see them: 

Rockstar Off The Rails? Lee Felix running rampant at ruly riots 

BREAKING: Singer Lee Felix lets loose 

ALERT: Lee Felix on the hunt for new backup dancers in dingy late night outing 

Whatever they said, that was a job for his PR team, wherever they were scrambling at that moment. He didn’t care about them, not right then and there. His top priority was Chan, always was. 

“I just… I didn’t know who else to call if it weren’t you.” 

Chan’s voice was noticeably quieter when he replied, “I’m glad it was me.” 

Felix wanted to reiterate that there was nobody else he could have called. And that wasn’t because there literally wasn’t anyone else. He had other security personnel for emergencies, he had Changbin, he had a multitude of people that could have protected him at that very moment but none of them mattered. The only person he had wanted by his side when he was vulnerable and scared was the one person that made it clear complications weren’t it for him. 

As Chan filled his mug, Felix tried not to lose his nerve completely because he knew if he didn’t say something there and then that he wouldn’t have another good moment to. 

“You said we can’t.” 

Chan froze a little as he placed the kettle back down. He said nothing at all, not even an acknowledgment. 

“Chan.” Felix’s voice was something withered and broken. 

He stirred the sugar into the cup in complete silence, turning around and placing the cup in front of Felix without a word. He stayed on the other side of the island and Felix felt like they had an actual island between them with how far away it felt. All he wanted was to feel the heat of Chan’s embrace again in a situation where he could fully remember the softness of his touch and the firmness of his arms. 

“I did say that,” Chan eventually responded. 

“And is that how you really feel?” 

His bodyguard hesitated a moment, “It’s not exactly how I feel but… I feel that it describes the situation well. This is complicated Felix, and I don’t want you to be put in a position where-” 

“I won’t be put in any positions. These complicated situations you’re talking about don’t even exist, it’s something that you’re making up. What I don’t understand is why.” 

“Because I’m terrified.” 

Felix blinked, “What?” 

“I feel like sometimes you forget how different we are,” Chan said. “You’re… Well, you’re you. Lee Felix, star of Korea, beloved by all. I’m the one that’s supposed to protect you from everyone. I’m not the one that’s supposed to be corrupting you.” 

“You’re not corrupting me,” Felix snorted. “I’m a grown man.” 

“I know but… There was also the question of what would happen if it all went wrong. What if we tried this and it blew up in our faces? I would probably lose my job and you’d be stuck with a second rate bodyguard with the inability to read you like a book. You’d be in far more danger than you are with me and I couldn’t handle that.” 

Felix’s throat tightened. Suddenly it didn’t seem so funny. 

“You think I care about that?” He asked. “I couldn’t care less about any bodyguard that wasn’t you. And the tabloids are gonna say what they will regardless of what I do. Even if I lose the beloved status or whatever the fuck you think I have, I don’t care if you’re still with me.” 

“It’s not just about that,” Chan replied, jaw tight. “It’s about your safety above all else. I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because I was distracted by…” He trailed off, shaking his head. 

“You don’t get distracted,” Felix said. “You’re the most professional guy I know- to a fault, if we’re being honest here.” 

Chan just shrugged, “I could always do more.” 

“You’re there when I need you. That’s the most you need to do, Chan. Yet you always seem to do even more than that anyway… You take care of me even when I don’t ask you to. And that’s not because you’re being a good bodyguard, that’s just you being you.” 

Felix got up from the stool, slowly making his way round the island like he was approaching a skittish animal. Like one wrong move and Chan would be running for the hills. He stopped short of Chan’s body, giving him just enough space to breathe. 

“So, can you?” Felix murmured. “Be honest with me?” 

“About what?” Chan replied, just as quiet. 

“This thing between us. Are you really going to let your job ruin it?” 

Chan hesitated, taking a deep breath and expelling it so slowly that Felix could see the change in his chest. 

“What is this thing?” He asked, looking at Felix in the eyes. The contact almost burned. 

Felix felt the corners of his lips pulling into a helpless smile. 

“I mean, I don’t think I’ve exactly been shy about the way I feel.” 

“Tell me anyway.” Chan implored. “Please.” 

Slowly, Felix stretched his arms up to wind them around Chan’s neck. He didn’t miss the way Chan’s breath caught in his throat at the action and frankly Felix thought he should have been awarded for his self restraint. If he had it his way, he would have devoured that man right then and there. 

“I am so fucking in love with you,” Felix grinned, unable to help it. “I have been for a long time and I don’t think it’s something that’s going away. God knows I’ve tried but… You’re under my skin.” 

Felix leant forwards, nudging their noses together in the most gentle touch he could muster. 

“Really?” Chan asked, breathless. 

“Obviously,” Felix whispered back. “What, did you think you were just convenient for me?” 

The silence that greeted him back said it all. 

Felix pulled back just enough to look him in the face. 

“Chan, you are literally anything but convenient to me. I mean fucking hell you’ve been batting my advances away for pretty much the entire time I’ve known you. Do you think I would have still kept trying if I wanted convenience? God, I just- I kept trying because I couldn’t help myself. That’s it.” 

He almost passed out when he felt the pressure of Chan’s hands settle on his waist. Instantly it was like something cracked open in his brain, like he had been waiting for those hands the whole time to unlock his full capacity or some shit. 

Chan didn’t move them closer, didn’t pull him in like he was aching for, but he didn’t push him away. He just held him close, hands tight on his waist like he was scared Felix would drift away from him if he wasn’t shackled down. 

“You don’t get to say things like that,” Chan said, his voice significantly rougher than before. “Not unless you mean them.” 

Felix laughed softly, “I’ve never meant anything more.” 

Chan was closing the distance before Felix had finished laughing, swallowing the sound with a lack of hesitance that was downright dizzying. It was like Felix could hear his restraint snapping like an old elastic band, pinging them together as they crashed into one another with a brutality that would leave marks on his body and soul. 

Felix ran his fingers over the short prickles of Chan’s hair, kissing back with all he had. It was overwhelming in the best of ways, but even better than a literal explosion. It was quiet, in a way. Despite the passion and the way Chan felt like he was trying to swallow him whole, there was something about it that just felt so soft. It wasn’t messy or drunken, not stressful or forbidden. It was full of relieved breaths between kisses and warm skin and the gentle press of Chan’s hands through his shirt. 

It was like they were trying to memorise everything in a single touch, their lips lingering together like they were stuck, before both of them were slowly pulling away. They rested their foreheads together, sharing their breaths full of burnt pancakes and coffee. It was disgusting, but it was theirs and that automatically made it one of Felix’s favourite things. 

“Say it again,” Chan whispered. 

Felix smiled so wide that his cheeks began to ache. 

“I love you.” 

Chan let out a breath, like something in him had finally released. 

“Okay,” he said, smiling softly. It was the purest, most lovely expression he had ever seen his bodyguard wear and he had to take a mental picture. “I love you too.” 

“Yeah?” 

Chan nodded as much as he could without knocking their heads together. His thumbs brushed absentmindedly against the waistband of his sweats. 

“Yeah,” Chan said. “I’ve been in love with you for so long.” 

“How long?” 

Felix couldn’t help but ask. 

Chan huffed a laugh that Felix could feel against his own lips. 

“Since the first time I ever saw you,” he admitted, and Felix felt the breath catch in his throat. 

All that time. All the uncertainty. Just for Chan’s heart to have been calling back out to him the whole time. 

“I almost didn’t want to accept the job. I thought I’d be a liability, that it was a conflict of interest, being so down bad for the person I was supposed to be looking after… But really, I didn’t want anyone else protecting you but me. I’m pretty selfish.” 

“Nobody else stood a chance compared to you,” Felix grinned back. “You’re the only one that’s ever been able to properly protect me and you’re the only one that ever will.” He dug his fingers deeper into Chan’s head, hard enough to make him smirk. “Now fucking kiss me.” 

It didn’t matter anymore that he was hungover. His headache was practically a thing of the past, the wooziness overridden by the sheer euphoria of having Chan press their lips together like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Though, he would have been inclined to agree. Chan was just perfect, just like Felix knew that he would be. It was like they were made for each other, moving in perfect synchronicity like they had finally unlocked the ability to read each other’s minds. 

As Chan pressed ever closer, Felix felt the side of the kitchen island pressing uncomfortably into his skin. He barely had time to make a dissatisfied noise before Chan was hoisting him up like he weighed next to nothing. His display of strength would never not be hot, but pair that with Felix already being inexplicably turned on and he almost completely lost it. 

“Careful,” he said, more out of breath than he’d intended. He couldn’t exactly help it when Chan’s hands were roaming over his thighs. “You’re supposed to be protecting me.” 

“I am,” came Chan’s immediate response as he ducked his head to Felix’s ear. “From everyone but me.” 

He caught the shell of his ear with his teeth, inching lower to suck the lobe into his mouth. Felix could feel the slight tug of his earring against the smoothness of Chan’s tongue, causing him to unravel even further. 

As Chan’s hands crept higher, sneaking underneath the fabric of his shirt and splaying against his back, his mouth went on a lower path towards the base of his neck. Felix’s breath hitched when Chan sucked at the skin on his throat, long enough that it would leave a mark, something that he’d have to cover up, evidence that everything was actually happening and he wasn’t in an alcohol induced coma. 

Each one of his kisses felt like a claim, like a brand, like Chan was specifically drilling into his brain that he would be the only one from there on out. As if Felix needed the reminder. He had been living by that exact rule since the very moment Chan had first touched him. Felix literally couldn’t imagine anyone else putting their hands on him, let alone their mouths, and he wouldn’t have to after experiencing the downright filthy way Chan was sucking at him like a goddamn vampire. 

Felix expelled a shaky breath, one that made Chan smile against his skin. 

“Asshole,” Felix muttered. 

“Want me to stop?” He asked, pulling away slightly so their eyes could meet. 

“Don’t you even think about it.” 

Thankfully, Chan didn’t waste another second (even though ordinarily Felix would have loved to sit there and listen to the sound of his voice). His hands mapped out a path back down his body, fingers dragging along his sides and dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. Not far, but far enough that Felix could feel the drag of his blunt fingernails against the warmth of his hips. 

He kissed his way down to follow, pressing his lips over his clothes. A kiss on his collarbone, chest, stomach. Each one drove him further down the road of insanity, but he didn’t even care to look back. The dark depths before him was the most tantalising sight he had ever beheld and he’d be damned if he turned down the chance to roam deeper. 

Felix was enjoying the sight, watching Chan mess with the fabric of his sweats, but just as he was getting comfortable, one of Chan’s hands shot up and pressed against his chest. He said nothing but the subtext was loud and clear. So, Felix obeyed. He laid down on the smooth marble of the island, hissing a little at the cool surface as Chan rucked up his shirt to grab at his chest with one hand and yanked his sweats right down with the other. He was at his mercy, completely bare where it mattered, extremely vulnerable. Yet, he had never felt so safe. 

“You,” Chan murmured, his voice ragged. “Are so fucking beautiful.” 

“I-” 

Before Felix could say any more, Chan’s mouth was wrapping around his dick, taking him all at once with a wet heat that made the rest of the world cease to exist. Chan was just… Everything. He was everywhere. The hand squeezing his chest, the shoulders holding his legs, the fingers tracing his thigh, the head bobbing up and down at such a pace that Felix thought his own head was about to roll away. 

“Chan,” his voice cracked into something completely helpless. 

He tipped his head back, spine arching, body seeking the warmth of Chan’s mouth instead of the coldness of the marble even though he barely felt it anymore. All he could feel was the wetness of Chan’s tongue, the grip of his hands, the vibrations of his mouth when he hummed around his dick. 

Felix felt utterly consumed. He reached out and gripped Chan’s hair with a renewed vigor. 

“Please.” 

Chan pulled back just to look him in the eyes. He looked absolutely insatiable, puffed up lips, dark eyes, messy hair. 

“I’ve got you,” he said. No teasing, no cockiness, just certainty. 

And, in the end, that certainty is what undid him. 

Felix thought he had known what to expect. Hell, he had dreamt about it more times than he would ever be able to count. Chan had been the sole focus of his fantasies for years, so he thought he’d managed to get a head start of things in a sense. But really, he was down a stream without a paddle. 

It was like the world narrowed to a single point, composed entirely of heat and pure devotion. When Felix dared to look down at Chan, all he saw staring back at him was something fragile. Chan was looking at him like he was something precious rather than breakable, like one of his prized possessions that he wanted to keep on display for the rest of time. Felix wouldn’t have minded being looked at like that forever. 

As Felix fell completely over the edge, crying out with a sound he had never heard before, Chan was right there. He didn’t look away, didn’t let go, held him through the entirety of his release until he had flopped back down in his own tangle of sweaty limbs. 

For a moment, Felix couldn’t move. Then the laughter was bursting out of him, something wild and uncontrollable. 

Chan responded with a soft huff against Felix’s stomach that made his muscles clench. 

“You okay?” he asked, murmuring against the clammy skin. 

“I think I just saw God,” Felix laughed as he sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “You need some help there?” 

Chan hesitated for a moment, mouth pressing lazy kisses around his belly button. 

“I’m, uh, actually fine.” 

“What? It’s fine I can- oh. Oh my God, did you-” 

“Well I’m not made of stone, Lix.” 

Felix felt his name burn at the nickname, probably along with the rest of the body since he could feel Chan’s cocky smirk against his skin again. 

“You like that?” he teased. 

“I don’t know,” Felix quipped. “Do you enjoy yourself?” 

“Obviously.” 

“There’s your answer then.” 

Chan hummed, “Come here.” 

Before Felix could process what he meant, he was being pulled into Chan’s arms. He wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck on instinct, legs locking around his waist. It pulled an embarrassingly giddy sound from him, one that had Chan gazing with a fondness that was so tender it almost circled all the way back round to hurt. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Felix’s ear. 

“I’m great,” Felix nodded, leaning into his touch. “I just need to know something.” 

“What?” 

“Are you actually in this?” Chan opened his mouth to respond, but Felix continued anyway. “And I don’t just mean in this moment. Not because the tension finally snapped or you lost your cool for a second. I mean actually in this for the long haul, wanting to be with me. Because I want to be with you and I don’t think I could handle this if it was anything else.” 

Chan didn’t say anything at first. That time was taken up with him pressing their lips together in something gentle and sweet. For a second, Felix was worried that he was just doing it to shut him up and avoid the question… And yes, the fear of that remained, but it was overpowered by the sheer want that melted through him. 

“I’m sorry I ever made you feel like that,” Chan said, once they had separated their mouths. “I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping my distance. I thought it would be the best thing for you in the long run, not having me tying you down-” 

“That’s not-” 

“I know that now.” He kissed him again, just a peck. “I love you.” Another kiss. “I choose you above all else.” A third. “I’m done pretending I don’t want this.” 

“I love you so fucking much.” 

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop saying it. It felt like something had cracked open in his chest and decided to take up permanent tenancy, a constant reminder of how down bad he was. 

“Let’s go get washed up,” Chan smiled back, nuzzling their noses together. 

“Oh yeah? And then what?” 

“Then we’ve got our whole lives.” 

“Damn,” Felix grinned. “Have you secretly been a hopeless romantic this whole time?” 

Chan chuckled a little as he began walking them towards the bathroom, Felix still clung to him with zero intentions of letting go until he was prized from his body. 

“I guess you’ll just have to find out.” 

Felix buried his face in Chan’s neck, “I intend to.” 

*** 

Six months later, the cameras were just as blinding. As Felix walked through the parted sea of photographers and reporters, he was filled with just as much gratitude as he had been the last time he’d gone through the airport rigmarole. His comeback had gone well, his fans had been just as supportive as before, and his success had only continued to rise as he put out more of his hard work. 

“Felix we love you!” 

“Felix, can sign this!” 

“Can we get a comment for this months issue of-” 

“-Felix, look this way!” 

He tried to blink away the white hot light that pierced his eyes, smiling and waving as the security team battled their way through the swarm ahead of him. 

There was one thing that was different though, something that was able to soothe over the stress of such an anxiety inducing walk, something that had Felix walking out the car without a pit of dread curling in his stomach. 

Chan wasn’t behind him anymore. He hadn’t been for a long while. It took a bit of time, at first, to kick the habit of a lifetime, to stop the kneejerk response of falling three paces behind Felix at any given opportunity. But, once Chan had realised how many times their hands could accidentally bump together while they were walking side by side, he jumped on board so fast that it almost capsized. 

Of course, it wasn’t like they were ever flirting outright like that in front of the cameras. Chan was still overly professional and respectful when he was in work mode, which Felix found ridiculously hot. Though it was frustrating that he couldn’t tear his boyfriend’s clothes off because it was ‘inappropriate’ and he had to ‘stop trying to turn me on at work Felix’. But still, he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d got to have Chan by his side, no longer walking him on a leash, not herding or guiding, just walking. It felt ridiculously good. 

“Felix,” a reporter called out from his right, catching his eye beneath the sea of white. “Do you have anything to say about the rumours between you and Hwang Hyunjin?” 

The fact those were still going was frankly laughable. Felix did, in fact, laugh. 

It was funny how the media saw things so terribly. The latest articles had used pictures that, presumably, a fan had taken at a restaurant that Felix, Chan, Changbin, and Hyunjin had been at. Yes, they were on a double date, one of many that they had experienced and enjoyed. But the implication that Felix and Hyunjin were still the ones dating when they weren’t sitting opposite or next to one another? People’s minds were truly a strange place. 

Not that it bothered him. If they were so concerned with placing their attention with Hyunjin’s beauty, it meant there was less heat on Chan, so he got to keep that all to himself. Snooze you lose, he stayed up and got the sexy bodyguard. 

“Hyunjin is a good friend,” Felix smiled, as he continued to walk. “We had a nice night.” 

“But do you-” 

Another reporter shot out from behind her, trying to break past to impatiently ask their own question. Probably ridiculously probing considering their complete lack of decorum and social awareness. 

Felix barely moved as they barrelled forwards, watching as Chan intercepted them with an ease that had his skin heating up. God, his boyfriend was just the hottest person on the planet, how was everyone else keeping their cool watching him like that? 

“Back up,” he heard the cool, clipped tone of Chan’s voice as he grabbed the reporter’s shoulders and forcefully placed them back into the crowd. When they tried to argue with him, Felix couldn’t see the look in his eyes but he knew the exact flash of anger that was enough to scare them into submission. “You heard me. Back. Up.” 

Fucking hell. He needed to get out of the crowd as soon as possible so he could show Chan the true extent of his appreciation. 

His boyfriend matched his pace again as soon as things had been sorted, a reassuring hand resting against the small of Felix’s back. He relaxed into it, the chaos around them melting into nothingness, a mere afterthought to the warmth of Chan’s touch. Maybe it was too much for the public, it was pretty much bordering on the physical contact that Chan would give him unless necessary, but frankly Felix didn’t care what anyone else thought. 

They could speculate, they could guess, they could make whatever headlines they wanted. Felix had the thing he cared most about right next to him. Six months ago, the space behind him had made his chest ache with the constant pull, but there was nothing left to miss anymore. Chan wasn’t going anywhere. Not behind him, not ahead of him, right by his side.