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to felix, chan was more than just his loveable boyfriend. he was so much more than a hand to hold or a body to snuggle against in the middle of the night. chan was more than plush lips that found their way onto felix’s after a rough day, more than just a shoulder to cry on. chan was more than a muse for his art projects, more than somebody to vent to every night about his classmates— chan was more than anything.
it was hard to describe him. felix often wished he was an author, wished he could write a poem about his love for the other, but it never came together the way he wanted. he would end up ranting about how chan reminded him of the color pink, how his eyes sparkled when they met felix’s, how his hands felt like home — felix was truly at a loss of words to create a story on chan. all he knew was that he loved him.
usually when felix realizes he can’t write, he draws. his hands sometimes hurt after, but he can’t find a single strand of regret in his veins. sketches of chan litter his sketchbook pages. of his eyes, his smile, his hands; sketches of chan cooking them breakfast, sketches of chan sleeping soundly on their shared bed, sketches of chan kissing felix so lovingly.
perhaps felix was infatuated with his boyfriend. smiles blossomed over his face as he sketched his loved, his heart beating with pure love as he created every single detail on his pages. chan has seen these sketches (he sometimes even watches) but he never comments.
chan was shy. felix knew that, and for that reason he never found himself upset that chan never says anything about the art. instead, he gets kisses from chan. sometimes they land on his lips, his nose, his forehead, his cheeks— chan litters felix in kisses, just as felix does with sketches.
splashes of color were added here and there. sometimes chan was outlined in a light pink and dark purple, sometimes it was light blue and dark blue. felix’s hands put in the work to make chan look absolutely stunning , even if he knew that chan was already. his lips turned into smiles with each splash of the color, with each sketch of a colored pencil. he was at peace with his art, he was satisfied, he was overwhelmed.
their relationship felt perfect. felix would come home from college and fall asleep in chan’s waiting arms. his arms that felt so warm. chan’s touch felt like clouds touching his skin. his kisses were like angels touching his lips, him melting into them further and further. felix couldn’t imagine not being in love with bang chan, couldn’t image his life without him.
there was nothing to come home to if chan wasn’t around. no art, no home, no love. felix didn’t like thinking about it, but his mother often reminded him that nothing was meant to last. her harsh words sometimes echoed through his head as he kissed chan passionately, as if he stopped then chan would drift. that there’d be nothing to ever come home to anymore.
her words haunted his dreams, made their way into messily scrawled notes in his sketchbooks. so pretty, he’d never stay. another. god why do i let myself do this? a tear drop. NOTHING LASTS.
it was like her words could have power over him, and felix hated it. he covered the notes in sticky notes, drew beautiful portraits of chan to make up for the thoughts, but tears still sprung to his eyes as he glanced at his boyfriend— he felt guilty for even thinking about it, but felix knew it could end in an instant.
“i’m scared,” he whispers to chan one night. the clock reads something close to midnight, a fan in the corner blowing cold air onto their blanketed bodies. felix’s head is on overdrive, his hands grasping tightly onto the front of his own shirt. he’s facing away from chan, not daring to look over as he admits his fears. when chan hums, he continues. “my mom… she says nothing lasts. and i’m scared we won’t last.”
when chan says nothing for the next minute, fear finally settles into the bottom of felix’s stomach. it makes a home there, gently reminding felix that his mother could be right— she usually was. he moves around until he’s turning to face chan, only to see his boyfriend silently crying onto their pillows and sheets. his heart begins to ache, thundering loudly into his chest.
“baby, oh no,” he whispers, grabbing chan and pulling his body closer. a broken sob falls from the older, tears beginning to flood down his face. “please don’t cry baby, i didn’t mean we wouldn’t last.”
chan’s sobs only grow louder and it hurts felix more and more. he holds chan the rest of the night until his sobs fade into a gentle snore and his eyes are shut. felix holds chan until the sun comes up and he can no longer keep his own eyes open, and then he falls asleep.
that’s why he has a page dedicated to the way chan sleeps, the way his body looks in felix’s arms. so small, so loved, so delicate. felix tilts his head when he looks at it, just imagining chan no longer there, no longer having a home in felix’s arms.
when chan is happy, the whole world seems to calm down. felix watches as chan laughs loudly in their living room, childlike happiness radiating off of the almost twenty-two year old— and felix can’t help but happily smile. chan’s happiness makes felix think of trees blowing in the wind. so maybe that’s why he gifts chan a canvas with two trees painted on.
he can’t help but think that chan deserves someone who can gift him the world instead. he can’t help but wish he could make chan that happy all the time, wishes he could spread happiness. sprinkle chan in pixie dust and take him away to a place where they can never grow up and fall in love— but he’s not peter pan and chan is not wendy.
“felix, i think i need to tell you something.”
it’s a sunday evening, the sun is beginning to set. felix is drained from classes, his sketchbook abandoned on his desk. chan’s cheeks are red as his eyes look everywhere but at felix, and it’s making the younger’s stomach flip. they’ve never had this kind of moment before, so felix can’t even begin to imagine what could possibly happen.
so he gives chan a tiny smile, hoping that out of the corners of his eyes he can see it. “okay, what’s on your mind channie?”
“i think i’m in love,” he breathes out, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “the kind that feels really carefree and stressless. i can’t explain it, but it makes me feel like i can just let go. like i don’t have to worry anymore.” he stops to look at felix. “i’m really sorry, lix.”
confusion sprouts in felix’s chest as he tries to understand. chan looks guilty, as if he just told felix that he did something he wasn’t supposed to. felix can’t ever begin to dissect any of what his boyfriend spoke.
“w-why are you sorry? i’m in love with you too, hyung. i understand how you feel. i feel that way with you, too,” he reassures, smiling wide. he’s happy to hear that chan feels how he feels, happy to know it can last.
“no, felix, i’m in love with someone else.”
oh.
the smile falls from felix’s face as he repeats what chan said in his head. someone else. there’s someone out there who makes chan feel like he has the world, something that felix could never give him. something that felix struggled to portray for his lover, something that felix couldn’t even fathom owning.
chan felt carefree. he didn’t feel stressed, he didn’t feel pressured anymore. he didn’t feel held down. felix didn’t know what part hurt him the most.
his eyes flickered up. chan was much more than a boyfriend. much more than someone to come home to and complain to. chan was much more than someone to expect , someone to find reassurance in. chan was more than an art project, more than a muse— chan was a universe waiting to be discovered.
felix finally found the right words. chan was a universe. he was more than a single shining star, more than a whole planet in a solar system; he was everything that made it up. felix’s eyes filled with tears.
he nods. “i’m happy for you,” he tells him, wiping away the tears building up. “i really am, chan. i hope you find what you’re looking for, okay? and i hope we can continue to be close.”
and chan smiles. he grins like there’s nothing holding him back anymore. he jumps up and pulls felix into a bonebreaking hug— and felix couldn’t be mad. he giggles through his tears, his hands pressing into chan’s back as he pulls him closer.
although his mother was right, she wasn’t. it didn’t last, but the memories sure would.
for now, felix had a new sketchbook to fill. one to fill with things he found love in. for things that interested him. and even if chan was his first page, he never said anything.