Work Text:
Felix stared at the digital numbers on his laptop screen. Eyes wary, like the open device will suddenly sprout fangs and chomp down on his hand.
₩325
That is every dollar currently in Felix's bank account.
He shoveled a gulp down his throat, ice cold tendrils of dread creeping up his spine as he leers at the measly numbers mocking him from his computer. That's more than half his share of rent, right there. The rest? How is he gonna buy groceries and essentials with that?! Including the occasional splurge on a new Pokemon plushie? It's impossible!
Obviously, Felix's job as a workout class instructor at Double Knot Fitness isn't making ends meet. In spite of how much enjoyment and fulfillment he gets from the position, satisfaction clearly doesn’t pay the bills.
He’s tried everything, in order to rake in more dough. Pulling more shifts at the gym, until he physically couldn’t lift his arms above his head at the end of the day. Borrowing his roommate’s car and ride sharing around town, until the constant stream of drunk-weirdos sufficiently turned his stomach at continuing the side hustle.
Plan A petered out. Plan B was a total bust. Hell, plans F through S came up goose eggs!
So now it's time for Plan Z. Felix’s final attempt at striking it rich, and making enough money to live comfortably enough to be able to buy whatever Pokemon merchandise he damn well wants!
Lee Felix has put his mind to it, officially.
He's gonna become a sugar baby.
˚₊*̥(∗*⁰͈꒨⁰͈)‧˚₊*̥
How to become a sugar baby
The simple google search instantly belched hundreds of thousands of results, a majority of which Felix can only assume are barely skirting legality. Honestly, he’s just glad he searched the query in a private window.
He scoured Wiki-How and poorly designed websites chocked full of grainy photos of scantily clad women with glassy eyes and glossed lips. Nothing really helped his fiery search for tips on how to properly debut his career in “being cute for rich guys in order to get their money”.
He's getting a bit frustrated. How hard can it be to get some goddamn information on how to start?! Very hard, apparently!
But then his eyes, heavy-lidded and already beginning to sting from exhaustion and artificial screen-light, landed on the URL of the last website on the page of results.
RefinedSugar.com
Intrigued by the punny name, Felix risked the litany of computer viruses possibly held within the URL, and clicked.
He is instantly met with a bright, minimalistically designed site that actually gives him hope for the future graphics of vaguely-pornographic-how-to-sites .
Welcome to Refined Sugar! The website reads in pleasantly rounded font.
We are the safest, highest rated site for becoming a sugar baby, and finding a sugar daddy of your own! After you’ve chosen if you’re a baby or a daddy, just upload a photo, write a quick description of yourself, and voila!
For babies: Once your profile is active, it will be added to the constantly updated list of available sugar babies! Keep your eyes out for any notifications, that might mean someone is interested in you! (๑✧◡✧๑)
The website’s introductory page continued, complete with a starry-eyed emoji that seems more out of a manga than... this. It’s cute—the website has an innocence to it that made a comforting heat blanket Felix’s body, rather than sickening goosebumps. Instead of dirty and sketchy, it appears nothing short of beautifully simplistic. Heavenly, even. Easy.
Felix quirked a brow as he finished giving the welcome-page a cursory read. This doesn’t seem...bad. It seems startlingly user friendly, in fact. They even have a convenient app he can download on his phone!
After all that fruitless searching, Felix finally found something that might just do the trick!
With a bubble of glee fizzing in his tummy, Felix quickly snatched up his phone and searched up the app. It is successfully downloaded in a blink.
Now it’s the fun part—time to make his profile, and snag himself a sugar daddy. He can almost feel a new purchase from the Pokemon store in his hands, as he giggles with delight. Took him long enough to throw caution to the wind and take the leap of faith into the unknown! He deserves it! He works five days a week at the gym, sweating and keeping his clients on track, it’s about time Felix does something he really wants.
Swiping through his photo album, Felix perked up as the perfect photo for his profile flew past. He scrolled back down, before clicking to set the picture as his icon. It's a dingy, dimly lit cropped photo of Felix’s face, from Hyunjin’s halloween party last year. He didn’t even have a technical costume for the shindig; he just went as himself….but sexier. And looking back, he really accomplished that goal.
The photo was taken with the flash on, bathing his angular features a high-contrast filter of stark white. Rich black shadows dip beneath his sharp chin and shade his exposed neck in a pillar of darkness. A black lace choker is secured around his throat, laying nice and neat over the bump of his Adam’s apple. His lips are glossed with a tint of thick burgundy red, almost viscous enough to appear as a coating of fresh blood. His eyes are hooded and dark and smudged with deep brown shadow and smoky kohl liner. Even his smattering of auburn freckles are visible, under his thin layer of foundation.
He looks nothing short of sinful. It’s perfect.
After the picture is successfully set, Felix went about picking out a name for his profile. Using your real name is highly discouraged, so he decided on a nickname that perfectly encapsulates his sugar-baby persona:
FreckleBoy915.
It’s simple, but intriguing enough to (hopefully) ensnare someone into investigating more. His freckles are one his charm points, after all. Now that’s taken care of, the next thing on the itinerary is writing a short biography for his account.
‘Lix. 21 years old. Seoul. Buysexual (buy me something, then I’ll get sexual)
I’m broke and cute, so if you want to pay for it I’ll gladly be cute for you. Maybe I’ll even show you my dick, if I don’t completely hate you. Message me to find out.
Felix chuckled as he read through his biting, purposefully harsh profile description. Hopefully his taciturn attitude will pique someone's interest. People are into that, right? Felix certainly hopes so. It definitely goes against the grain of his usual chipper, happy-go-lucky personality, that’s for sure. But that’s the point of this whole app, isn’t it? To give him a chance to be someone different than the normal Felix Lee? To do and be something different from his usual status quo?
With that thought in mind, he then scoured his profile bio for any inadvertent mistakes; he may be a self-proclaimed cutie, but typos are not. When everything checked out, Felix sucked in a breath, and clicked the create profile button.
With a barely audible whoosh, it is done. His profile is added to the list of other objectively pretty boys and girls desperate for a sugar daddy, just like that. Just like him.
With a haughty smirk, Felix shoved his phone back into his pocket.
Now, all he has to do is wait.
˚₊*̥(∗*⁰͈꒨⁰͈)‧˚₊*̥
Much to Felix’s surprise, he didn’t have to wait very long for a response to his newly added profile.
He returned home from Double Knot Fitness at 7:30 p.m., cheeks reddened from the cold and body drenched in a sticky tack of dried sweat. He threw his phone onto the sofa, before virtually tearing his soaked clothes off and all but long-jumping into the shower.
Once his body was scrubbed raw and his hair effectively toweled dry, Felix padded out to the living room in his comfiest set of plaid pajamas. Luckily he is all alone tonight, as his roommate Minho is out DJing at one of his boyfriend’s dumb house parties downtown. That boy may be crude and uncouth in every way imaginable, but damn can he spin some mean beats.
As Felix trudged into their modest living room, he noticed the unmistakable pool of blue light of his phone alight with a notification. Adding a skip to his step, Felix jogged over to investigate the mysterious notification illuminating his phone.
Refined Sugar (1)
Felix’s jaw threatened to careen straight through their carpeted floor. His eyes bugged out his skull, having to re-fasten his grip on his phone so the device doesn’t slip out of his grasp.
He didn’t expect to get a message until— maybe —a week or two from now. And that was being optimistic. He never even dreamed he would get a message a few hours after activating his profile.
He tried to keep the sudden burst of pride echoing through his core in check; he doesn’t even know who the guy who messaged him is, or what he could have said. He could be nothing short of... unsavory, to put it gently. Even when taking his new line of work into account.
So with a healthy dose of skepticism, Felix swiped open the app and clicked on the messages tab.
Lo and behold, there is a cute (1) on the little bell icon. He wasn’t seeing things—someone really did take interest in his profile!
He tapped the icon, and is instantly brought to a chat window.
He expects a request that, well, he wouldn’t exactly want his mother to read in regards to her son. But Felix knew what he was signing up for. He’s confident, both in himself and his... mini Felix. So if he sends a dick pic or two for a quick buck, what’s the harm? He doesn’t see any. At least, not right now.
But he never expected to see the messages staring back at him on his phone screen. Never.
C.Bang97: hi there
C.Bang97: your profile doesn’t lie, you are pretty cute.
C.Bang97: I’m a nice guy who just has a lot of money, so if you wanna talk you know where to find me
Felix’s heart started to speed in his chest as he read the messages. He began to hyperventilate a bit. And then, he re-read them again. As if positive he was misreading something. He’s still hyperventilating, just a smidge. With each incredulous blink the texts flash before his eyes, as if branded onto the skin of his eyelids.
This C.Bang97 dude had him sold at “pretty cute” and “nice guy who just has a lot of money”. He ticks off all Felix’s boxes, just like that. He’s easy to please.
But wait! He may not have sent him anything even near perverse, but what if this dude is...sketchy. Felix can’t just immediately message him back without at least checking this other guy’s profile out! He may be blinded by compliments and promises of unending funds, but he at least has enough sanity left to click on the little profile picture on the left side of the messages.
He is transported to a profile no dissimilar in structure to his. Save for the account set to Daddy, instead of Felix’s Baby.
The profile photo is barely discernible; all that’s visible is a sliver of pale white skin, and a pair of unfathomably dark brown eyes. A thick black mask covers the man’s nose and lips, while a black baseball cap effectively hides his forehead and hair.
And while Felix has seen many sets of eyes in his day, he can’t deny that those are the sexiest eyes he’s ever had the pleasure of virtually meeting.
The profile description simply reads:
Seoul. 22. Music production.
While perhaps deceptively stark, the biography instantly caught Felix’s attention. One specific thing, in fact; music production. Felix has always had an interest in writing and creating his own songs, but in an unsurprising turn of events, he could never afford the equipment needed to achieve the goal of producing his own track.
But maybe, all that’s about to change.
FreckleBoy915: hi! Thanks for messaging me!
FreckleBoy915: you honestly seem surprisingly normal...are you actually a serial killer or something?
A few moments later, Felix’s phone vibrated in his hand, effectively startling him out of his idleness. The new notification reads Refined Sugar (1). Waves of electric excitement coursed through Felix’s viens, mingling with the volcanic anticipation whizzing about his tummy.
C.Bang97: i swear there are no bodies in my basement haha
C.Bang97: well, i live on the top floor of an apartment building, so i technically don't even have a basement. But i promise I’m not deranged. At least i think? I’m not making a good case for myself here, am i
C.Bang97: i just have more money than i know what to do with, coupled with the fact I’m lonely as fuck. So, here i am.
FreckleBoy915: here you are
FreckleBoy915: well, I’m at your beck and call Mr.Bang. What would you like from me?
Felix’s heart is officially speeding like a race car behind his ribs, thrashing against the bones with enough force to crack them clean in two. This feels so strange. The kind of novelty that you want to submerge your entire body in like a secret grotto, because it’s white-hot and goosebump inducing. Right and wrong all converging into one implacable amalgam of emotions he can’t even begin to decipher. But he thinks he... likes it.
Yeah. Felix definitely likes this.
All he knows is that with each message from this man that pops up in the chat, he feels another layer of fevered heat drape across his flesh.
C.Bang97: oh right
C.Bang97: i didn't plan this far ahead. Honestly i thought you wouldn’t even message me back.
A smile quirked up on Felix’s lips as he read the incoming texts. This guy is kinda adorable. Very adorable, in fact. He never imagined a prospective sugar daddy would talk like this. Hell, he didn’t expect to feel like this after his first conversation with a possible sugar daddy. He expected to feel powerful, confident, and nothing short of devilish. Maybe even a bit filthy. But right now? He feels like an elementary schooler on Valentine’s Day, praying their crush will hand them a Tootsie Roll or cotton candy flavored lollipop as a token of their affection. He feels innocent. It makes no sense.
Lest Felix reiterate that he has no idea what this man looks like, save for a pair of deep brown eyes and alabaster skin. His phone pinged again.
C.Bang97: ummm if you want you can send me a selfie of you smiling?
Felix’s brows furrowed at the seemingly random—and completely benign—request.
FreckleBoy915: you mean like….naked?
C.Bang97: nah, i don’t really care much about that. As i said, you’re very cute so just seeing you with a smile on your face should do the trick.
Ok, this guy might be a bit weirder than Felix thought. What kind of sugar daddy actively denies lascivious content?! Perhaps a not very adept one? Oh well, Felix is far from complaining.
So he brought a hand up to muss up his still vaguely-damp blonde locks, opened his phone’s front facing camera, and tried to find the perfect angle to make his flushed, fresh-out-the-shower cheeks look something akin to sculpted. He even threw up a peace sign, just for good measure. And of course, he let his lips upturn in a sweet, genuine grin.
It wasn’t hard to let the expression bloom on his full lips. Just one thought about a certain man on the other side of a phone in Seoul is already making his smile begin to widen into some cheek-stretching perversion of practiced beauty.
Once satisfied with his selfie, he pressed send. And off it goes to the mysterious C.Bang97.
Ok, now Felix is officially feeling a pinch of nervousness twist his gut. What if the photo disappoints this guy? What if his profile picture made him look a certain way that a freshly showered Lee Felix simply can’t achieve? What if this is all just gonna end up as a fluke and he’ll stop texting him and—
His phone buzzed with a notification. Felix’s heart plummeted to his toes.
Refined Sugar (1)
With newly clammy hands, Felix tightened his grip on his phone, and swiped the notification open.
C.Bang97: you’re really beautiful. I love your freckles so much
C.Bang97: thanks for that
C.Bang97 has sent you ₩250
“Oh my go— what?!” Felix shrieked so loud, he wouldn’t be surprised if people walking past the ground floor of their apartment building heard every shrill note. And he lives with Minho on the 8th floor. Is he misreading this?! Is there a decimal point he’s somehow glossing over?!
Nope. This dude, this C.Bang97, just sent him a cool two hundred and fifty won . No missing decimal points to be seen. All because Felix sent him a selfie. With all his clothes on.
Either this guy has a few screws loose, doesn’t fully know how to use the app, or he really is just what he said he is; a nice guy who just has a lot of money.
No matter what the reason is, Felix is just glad he included his payment link in his profile.
Felix vaguely picked up the telltale sound of jangling keys fitting snugly into their lock, followed by the half-rusted hinges of a door squealing to life.
Minho unceremoniously burst through their apartment, his hair a disheveled mess and sticking up in every direction like he’s been electrocuted. There’s mottled purple bruises on his neck, descending down to pepper his sculpted collar bones—no doubt courtesy of his boyfriend, Jisung.
“Hey, I’m back from DJing at Jisun—”
“Shut up, I’m making money from smiling at this dude.” Felix fired back, not even taking his eyes off his phone screen to meet his roommate’s expectant gaze.
Minho cocked his head to the side, his sweat-dampened hair cascading across his features in turn. And then he shrugged.
“Just wear a condom, or whatever.”
And with that, the older boy peeled his leather jacket off his shoulders, tossed it into a crumpled leathery heap on the living room floor, and stalked off into his designated bedroom.
Felix is left in stupefied isolation just as quickly as his roommate arrived back home.
FreckleBoy915: woah dude, are you sure you meant to send me that much cash???
FreckleBoy915: I’m sure there’s a way I can refund you if there was a mistake!
C.Bang97: no mistake, love
C.Bang97: i told you, i have an excess of money. Literally.
C.Bang97: seeing your smile made me smile. Like a real smile. That’s something I haven’t experienced in a while
C.Bang97: in fact, I think i might have short changed you
C.Bang97 has sent you ₩200
“Holy fuck!” Felix screamed, throwing his phone across the sofa like a bolt of white-hot lead in his hands. It landed with a dull thump on the cushions, which sounded suspiciously like the freakish pounding of his heart. His throat is feeling scratched with sandpaper and rubbed raw from his shouts, but he couldn’t care less—he just got sent another 200 won?! For doing absolutely nothing this time?! For just existing?! This is probably the most surreal experience of Felix’s entire 20 years of life; which is saying something. Because he lives with Lee Minho.
Something else caught Felix’s attention during their last exchange. A certain word that is now shooting through his vision like a horde of glittering fireworks. Love. He doesn’t want to admit how that single pet name made a pool of emotion slosh in his tummy. How just reading the simple moniker reduced his brain to a coil of abstract squiggles, alongside sepia blotches of his once unbreakable assurity.
FreckleBoy915: I honestly don't know what to say except thank you
FreckleBoy915: that’s...really gonna help me out
C.Bang97: omg great! I’m so happy to hear that
Felix doesn’t want to argue that—objectively—he thinks he might be the happier one right about now. For more reasons than one.
FreckleBoy915: so, Mr.Bang
FreckleBoy915: why don’t you tell me more about yourself? Like how you’re only a year older than me yet can freely throw hundreds of dollars at some random guy you just met on a sugar baby app?
C.Bang97: well first off, my name is Chan.
C.Bang97: so you don’t have to keep calling me “Mr.Bang”
FreckleBoy915: ok, Chan
C.Bang97: you don’t have to tell me your real name. I understand if that wouldn’t make you comfortable
Felix has now come to a bit of an impasse. Should he tell Chan his real name? He worried his bottom lip in his teeth as he weighed his options. Chan did reveal his name, meaning he’s establishing some foundation of trust between them. But what if he uses his name against him, or something? In what way, Felix doesn’t know—which made his choice a bit easier.
Fuck it, he thought, today has already been too strange to comprehend. Might as well make it weirder.
Plus, he has a sneaking suspicion Chan doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body.
FreckleBoy915: my name is Felix
FreckleBoy915: but you can call me Lix
C.Bang97: pretty name for a pretty boy
C.Bang97: I think I’ll take you up on that, Lix
Felix is grinning like an idiot, to the point where his fleshy cheeks began to sear with pain.
FreckleBoy915: I’m glad you messaged me, Chan
His phone buzzed in his hand, no more than a minute later.
C.Bang97: I’m glad too, Lix
˚₊*̥(∗*⁰͈꒨⁰͈)‧˚₊*̥
It’s been a full week since Felix downloaded the Refined Sugar app. Meaning it’s also been a full week since he “met” a certain boy by the name of Chan.
And his bank account has never been happier. Last he checked his savings account—three days ago—his stored funds had hiked up to a mind-boggling ₩4,419 and 11 cents! What a time to be alive, Felix thinks! He even pulled the proverbial trigger and purchased a large Yamper plushie straight from the Pokemon Center website, as a celebration of sorts.
He’s living the good life, just like that. With just a few clicks of a button.
He really should’ve started this whole sugar baby thing a long time ago—he’s a natural! Or maybe Chan is just ignorant and desperate, and settled on the first profile that caught his eye. Either way, Felix is nothing short of grateful. And still firmly stands by the belief that Chan is either secretly Batman, or some kind of rich angel descended to earth to save his hide from eviction.
Felix never explicitly claimed Chan as his sugar daddy, nor did the other officially brand himself as such. It just...happened. Naturally.
And while he has yet to receive a message from any other prospect sugar daddies besides Chan, and he can't find it in himself to be terribly perturbed about that. Which, honestly speaking, is very off-brand for Felix. He’s the type that is very attuned to feelings of rejection, which, in this case, would manifest as fears of not being up to snuff with his fellow sugar babies on the site. But if anyone else did send him a message, he knows it would just end up deleted in favor of a certain 22 year old music producer from Seoul.
They’ve created a routine of sorts, since forming their digital bond. Chan will message Felix when he’s feeling particularly lonely—which, sadly, is most hours of the day—and Felix will text him to keep his mind occupied. If Chan asks for another selfie of Felix’s so-called “luminous” smile, then he happily obliges. And like clock-work, Chan will subsequently send a bundle of cash his way; never short of 200 won, rarely exceeding 450 won. He’s never asked for a dick pic, or a nude, or even to see him shirtless. Just for Felix’s smile. Only for his smile.
There have been some dips in regularity, however. For a ten-second video of Felix winking and then blowing Chan a kiss? Three hundred bucks. A full body photo of Felix’s outfit, consisting of an oversized marigold yellow hoodie and denim overalls, in his bedroom mirror? A cool five hundred won.
Felix may have no shortage of self confidence, but even he knows he's not worth that much. Let alone for a grainy picture of his cheap clothes reflected in his smudged mirror. It's honestly, in every sense of the word, mind boggling for Chan to send him such staggering amounts of won for such innocuous requests.
He can’t help but feel more than a bit guilty over their...arrangement? Can it even be called that? All Felix does is talk to the guy, when he’s not sending him grinning selfie after grinning selfie. And their conversations never even teeter on the precipice of sexual! They mostly chat about current events in their lives, or what’s recently piqued their interests, or—Felix’s personal favorite— music production.
Just from a simple week of chatting, Felix thinks he can safely say he knows almost everything about Chan; and of course, vice versa. Felix knows about how Chan doesn't sleep well, and how he stays up until the crack of dawn working on tracks, and how his favorite movie is How to Train Your Dragon. He knows how hard Chan is on himself, and how he just wants to make someone, anyone, proud. And, he's acutely aware of how desperate Chan is for companionship. Of course, Chan never admitted that to Felix explicitly, but it doesn't take an ace detective to peel back that bandage.
But he enjoys his daily chats with Chan, as well. In fact, he counts the seconds until his phone lights up with the now familiar notification from a now familiar app. Chan is kind and goofy underneath his facade of stoicism, and he’s so sweet. He makes Felix laugh with his stupid, cringe-worthy dad jokes. Makes him smile. Makes his heart pound with the authentic brand of joy he hasn’t experienced in years. He makes Felix feel special and adored. Loved, even.
Just from talking with Chan over the last week, Felix fears he’s attained five cavities. He’s sweeter than the sugar in the name of the app they met on.
Felix doesn’t want to admit it—doesn’t know if he even should admit it, given his new line of “work”—but he thinks he might just be falling for Chan. For the faceless, voiceless boy with pockets deeper than the sea. But the money honestly means nothing to Felix, now that he’s truly gotten to know Chan. He would give up every cent, he would gladly go back to the skimpy figures that greeted him in his bank account last week, if it means Chan will be happy because of him. Will be less lonely because of him. Will keep smiling, because of him.
Felix has never seen Chan’s face, but he has an inkling his smile is the most beautiful thing in the entire world.
He shouldn't have gotten attached. He knows he shouldn't have gotten attached. He's positive that rule #1 in some fabled, mist-shrouded tome titled “How to be a Good Sugar Baby” is don’t get fucking attached to the man sending you hundreds of dollars for mundane acts.
And yet, here Felix is. Proverbially setting fire to every known law of sugar baby civility.
It’s not up for debate. Lee Felix is falling for his sugar daddy. And hard. Faster than a speeding bullet and harder than landing on a bed of cement. But it’s not scary, even though he has a feeling it should be nothing short of terrifying. He’s never scared, when Chan is involved. And this is no different.
He didn't just get attached.
He fell in love.
So today, when Felix’s phone lit up with a notification reading Refined Sugar (1), he decided he’s going to suggest something to Chan that’s been dancing at the back of his mind since their first conversation.
C.Bang97: good morning Lix
C.Bang97: did you sleep well? Have good dreams?
Chan doesn’t sleep well. Felix knows not to ask him how he fared during the night. So he doesn’t.
FreckleBoy915: i did! but I’m a lot happier now that I’m talking to you
It’s cheesy and verging on cringeworthy; sometimes Felix fears Chan might think he’s putting this on as an act to rake in the extra bucks. That fear keeps him up at night, in between dreaming about honeyed brown eyes. Felix wants nothing more than to scream at Chan, whoever he may be under that eternal mask covering his veiled features, that he means every word. That he always has.
C.Bang97: that’s sweet, Lix. I’m glad to be talking to you again as well
C.Bang97: i know it’s weird because we’ve never met irl, but i find myself missing you when we’re not talking.
Felix’s breath caught in his throat. All the oxygen in his lungs froze to blocks of solid ice, crushing his diaphragm with the force of lead weights fastened to his chest. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he felt tears wash onto his eyes—gone the next moment with an unconscious blink, but molten hot and there all the same.
This is his chance, this is his moment. He needs to ask Chan his question now, before the ideal time passes before his glossy eyes.
FreckleBoy915: can I ask you something, Chan?
C.Bang97: of course, Felix. Anything
Chan only uses Felix’s full name when he’s being relatively serious. The fact he’s breaking the ‘ Felix’ out now made rosy pink hearts flutter before his eyes, clouding his vision with a filter of lovestruck color.
Lovestruck. Felix is lovestruck.
FreckleBoy915: i hope this doesn’t seem like an odd thing to ask, given how we met
FreckleBoy915: but do you maybe wanna meet up? For coffee or something?
No response—at least not yet. Which is fine, given the fact Felix hit send less than 10 seconds ago. But he’s suddenly overcome with tingling nerves, a bramble of fear pulled tight in his core and feeling like nails plunged beneath his flesh. He’s never wanted anything more in his entire life than he’s wanting Chan to say yes. More than he wants enough money to move him and Minho out of their hole in the wall apartment, more than the desire to become a music producer himself.
More than anything, he wants Chan.
His phone feels like a hundred pound weight in his hand, crushing his clammy digits with impossible heft. The waiting is agonizing. The fear of the unknown is making his head spin. But after what felt like an agonizing eternity, his phone buzzed to life. And so did Felix. His eyes flew open, his heart faltered in his chest before jogging at an unsteady pace.
Refined Sugar (1)
He swiped the message open, bracing himself for the worst.
C.Bang97: that’s not an odd thing to ask at all, love
C.Bang97: in fact, i was going to ask you the same thing, but you beat me to it! Good thing too, I probably would have chickened out last minute…
C.Bang97: sorry, i talk too much. But yes, Lix. I’d love to meet up with you. And soon, too.
Soon?! Felix shrieked internally, his eyes bulging out of his head. He feels so dizzy, and hot, and happy.
Soon sounds perfect.
FreckleBoy915: I’m so happy!!!!!
FreckleBoy915: how about we meet at that cute cafe by Gangnam station today at 3? The pink one with the teddy bear logo!
C.Bang97: i know the one! Sounds like a plan, see you later Lix <3
FreckleBoy915: i might kiss you, just a warning
C.Bang97: and i might kiss you back
C.Bang97: just a warning
˚₊*̥(∗*⁰͈꒨⁰͈)‧˚₊*̥
Felix made a point to get to the designated cafe early. Since Chan knows what he looks like, all he has to do is sit pretty and wait for someone to come in, meet his eyes, and skip over to take the empty seat opposite him. Preferably someone whose face matches their incredibly kind personality, but he’s truly not picky.
This is Chan after all—Felix couldn’t care less about his face. He knows his heart, and that’s more than enough.
His watch reads 2:50 p.m., and there’s a knot of tension churning his tummy. He’s nursing his caramel macchiato, the cloying sugary brew doing little to alleviate the venomous nausea wringing out his stomach.
He's thrust into the thicket of anxiety once again. What if Chan stands him up? What if he does show up, but is less than impressed with Felix in the flesh? He knows how to snap a killer selfie, but in person? There's no filters or angles or lighting tricks for that.
His phone buzzed on the table, jittering about until grasped securely in Felix’s sweaty palm. He needs to make a mental note to wipe his hands on the thick grain of his denim jeans before meeting Chan.
Speaking of which, the notification lighting up his screen reads Refined Sugar (1). Felix gulped, as if on instinct.
C.Bang97: be there in a minute
C.Bang97: finding parking was awful. Hope i didn’t make you wait long?
Felix’s watch reads 3:09 p.m., but those minutes blurred together in a blink.
FreckleBoy915: not at all! I just got here :)
It’s a lie. Objectively, since he did get inside the cafe at 2:45. But who’s keeping track.
FreckleBoy915: I’m inside, in the back by the window!
C.Bang97: don’t worry Lix, i think i could spot your pretty face a mile away
Felix felt his cheeks heat up with an undoubtedly scarlet flush, dying the skin of his neck a nice shade of ruby red. Chan is just as cringeworthy as Felix—a match made in heaven, he thinks. Two peas in a pod. A smile, uninhibited and genuine, broke onto Felix’s lips as he gazed fondly at the chat.
He must have gotten so entranced on the sweet messages staring back at him, that he conveniently missed the melodious jingling of the bells above the cafe door as it opened. He missed a jagged strike of head-to-toe black advancing towards him. He was blissfully unaware of the figure, broad shouldered and visibly muscular beneath his baggy black clothes, halting right before his table.
“Felix?”
A voice, surprisingly soft and melodic, shocked Felix out of his stupor. The voice is dulcet and creamy, and instantly made Felix’s skin prickle with goosebumps. His gaze snapped up to meet the man standing opposite him, and his phone then ungracefully tumbled from his hands, landing with a jolting clatter on the mahogany table.
“C-Chan?” He didn’t intend for his voice to sound so... strained. So thin and wispy, like he just completed a marathon.
The man nodded, a smile pulling onto his plush pink lips.
“Nice to finally meet you, love.”
Felix’s lips flew open, hanging slack-jawed as he takes in the man before him. His heart is thundering in his chest, battering his ribs and threatening to shoot right out of his body like a rogue cannonball. Hot—he feels so, so hot. From head to toe, his skin is burning.
Hot.
“Holy sh—you’re hot. Wh-why didn’t you ever tell me you’re hot?!” Felix virtually screamed, his shock so palpable it reverberated through every nook and cranny of the cozy cafe. He effectively shocked a flock of studying students out of their groove, but Felix is much too taken aback to fully care.
Hot, in fact, is a bit of an understatement. Chan is gorgeous, beautiful, lovely—every synonym Felix wishes he had enough coherence left to recall. He’s a dictionary’s worth of words synonymous with beauty. His jawline is sculpted, chiseled as if hewn from a single block of porcelain. High cheekbones and ruddy brown brows, textbook masculinity mixed with celestial splendor. His lips are hued dusty rose and pulled into a tender grin, dotting perfect little dimples in his cheeks. Felix wants to kiss them until they’re bruised purple.
His hair is a mop of frizzy brown ringlets, mussed curls that elegantly fall over his droopy eyes. He shifted under the soft cafe lighting, and his locks verged on blonde. He shifted again, and his hair returned back to rich, chocolatey brown.
And those eyes. Those eyes that Felix has exclusively seen through the 2-dimensional guise of Chan’s profile picture are gazing at him, big and honey brown and bejeweled with golden light.
Felix's brain feels like it was dropped into a blender. All he can manage to comprehend is one singular thought:
Wow, he's hot.
Chan barked out a laugh, his pale skin dying a light shade of peach as he pulled out the chair opposite Felix and sunk down to sit before him. “Thanks? I guess I didn’t know that myself, Lix.”
Bullshit, Felix thought to himself with a wily smirk. Chan carries himself with the rugged confidence of someone who knows they’re hot shit. Felix has a feeling Chan just wanted to hear the sentiment fall from his lips and into Chan’s ears.
“There it is,” Chan mused, propping his chin on his fist and leaning even closer to Felix. “There’s that smile.”
Felix swears he saw stars and hearts and hundreds of cosmic entities dancing across Chan’s eyes. But the galaxies prancing in his irises are dingy in comparison to the veritable legion of white-hot lightning bolts Felix feels piercing his skin.
“Better than the pictures?” Felix met Chan’s enamoured gaze, and the world might as well have disintegrated into ashes outside their window. Nothing else matters except the other; the universe can skid to a stop and inverse itself, and they won’t falter in the locking of their eyes.
Chan nodded, taking his bottom lip in his teeth. “ Much better.”
˚₊*̥(∗*⁰͈꒨⁰͈)‧˚₊*̥
“I hope this doesn’t come off as rude,” Felix began, after he and Chan downed their second round of lattes, “But aren’t there other options for curing loneliness that don’t eat away at your bank account?”
Chan considered the question, absentmindedly swirling the murky, watery remains of his iced americano as he pondered.
“I suppose. But I’m not good at,” he gestured at their two-person table, “ This. I’m not good at going out and meeting new people, you know?” Felix never would have thought, given how self assured and charming Chan is. But he won’t argue. He won’t pry.
“So I wanted to do something through text, because I know I can at least handle myself better. And since I have no shortage of funds, the idea of finding a sugar baby didn’t seem terribly out of the realm of possibility. I thought I might as well make someone’s life better to live financially, if they can help me with my loneliness.”
Well, if Felix wasn’t totally head over heels before, he sure as Hell is now. It’s official, Chan is the most amazing man to ever live. Ever. Sorry, great men of history, you all pale in comparison to Chan.
“You definitely made my life better. But not just from the money, you know.” Felix feels like this is his moment; deja vu. He feels the universe goading him on, electric tingles in the air whispering to him that this is his chance. He’s gonna throw caution to the wind for the second time in his life, and confess to Chan.
“I think I...really like you. I mean I really like you. I think I might love you, Chan.”
Chan hummed, a single melodious note that sounded more dulcet than any classical symphony. “That’s good news,” He stated, simply.
“I was afraid I was the weird one, falling for my sugar baby.”
Felix gulped, his throat suddenly constricted with an iron chain of palpable emotion. Happiness. He's happy. Happier than when he saw the whopping digits in his bank account. Happier than he's ever been in his life.
“Can I give you that kiss now? Free of charge.” Felix still sounds like he just got bowled over by a steam engine, but he couldn't be bothered to suck in a steadying breath.
Chan’s rosy lips quirked up at the corners. He didn’t even give Felix a spare second to let the dull prickle of the nerves ghosting beneath his skin take hold. Because as soon as the question left Felix’s lips, Chan is leaning over their table. Until his exquisite features are mere inches from the younger’s.
Felix smelled spearmint and lavender on Chan’s breath—it’s intoxicating. Chan is intoxicating, like a drug injected into his veins that already roosted right in the middle of his brain. An unquenchable addiction, in the body of human perfection.
“I was waiting, love.”
And with that, Felix darted forward to slot his lips with Chan’s. Their mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, a more sublime match can never be found. Despite Chan technically being Felix’s sugar daddy, and Felix technically being his sugar baby, the kiss was remarkably innocent. Chaste, even.
Until Felix hungrily licked at Chan’s lips, non-verbal communication requesting entry. Chan happily obliged—both parties seemingly nonplussed at the fact they are now officially making out in a relatively crowded and equally quiet cafe. Oh well. Hopefully the lo-fi tunes flowing from the speakers are strong enough to drown out the sloppy, wet notes of their heated smooches.
All Felix knows is that Chan tastes like bouquets of dried peonies and cream soda and slices of summer tangerines. The amalgam of contrasting flavors are nothing short of entrancing. Just like their owner.
“I love you, Lix.” Chan whispered, once they finally broke for air. Their lips are glossed with spit and puffy, bruised angry red from their kissing that bordered on violent.
Felix didn’t even need to return to whatever scraps of coherency are left in his skull to respond. Thankfully.
“I love you too, Chan.”
˚₊*̥(∗*⁰͈꒨⁰͈)‧˚₊*̥
That night, when Felix was curled up in Chan’s arms on his sumptuous leather couch in his high-rise Gangnam apartment, he had a realization.
It was muffled and dull from the impenetrable fog of love hanging in Felix’s brain, but he was able to decipher it after a few moments of internal translating.
Chan is asleep, long having since surrendered to slumber after the third movie playing on his flat-screen TV faded to black. His lips, still reddened from their insatiable kisses, are slightly parted. His eyes softly fluttered shut in peaceful rest, as his chest rose in and out under Felix’s body. Felix’s heart pounded with affection, engulfing his body in gossamer warmth. If Chan sleeps this well with Felix at his side, he may very well attach himself to Chan’s side with thread. Never to be broken.
Without a second thought, he slipped his phone out of his jacket pocket; movements slow and deliberate, so as not to rouse Chan. He clicked the device on, soundlessly.
He stared at the app that single handedly changed his life, eyes dark and unreadable. He felt Chan’s heart, steady and thrumming evenly, echo from his chest and into Felix’s back. Like a wordless lullaby. He felt his own eyes grow heavy under the human hymn beneath him. But more than anything, his movements became clearer. More purposed.
He pressed down on the app, until it began to shimmy on the screen. With almost too much ease, Felix clicked the little X on the app. And then: poof. It’s gone. Deleted. Just like that, Refined Sugar has left the building. Along with Felix’s heart, which now belongs to the man he is pressed flush against like a living, breathing arm chair.
Felix’s lips quirked into a smile. He doesn’t think he’ll miss the app very much.
In fact, he thinks he found exactly what he needs.
Who knew becoming a sugar baby would pay such dividends—and not even in the monetary sense.
Felix, mentally hanging up his FreckleBoy915 persona for good, certainly didn’t. But boy, is he glad to have taken a risk and thrown all caution to the wind.
He should’ve done that a while ago.