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1.
Hyunjin couldn’t believe his ears. All the while everyone just blankly nodded, he was dumbfounded in front of their choreographer who just announced to everyone that he and Felix, alongside Chan and Changbin, are going to hold hands for almost twenty seconds.
If he were to think about it, there wasn't supposed to be a problem. Felix is a natural cuddler, one who loves skinship more than anybody else, and initiates it every time he gets the chance.
While he―well, he's just himself.
He's one who'll let Felix do whatever he wants to do because he is Felix and if anything, Hyunjin is more than whipped for the said cuddler.
The thought of having to hold Felix's hand every time they practiced was overwhelming him. Not in a bad way, but actually, in the most good, best way he could've thought of.
Hyunjin couldn't admit it to himself or to anyone else for that matter. How can a simple ruffled hair, bare face, black mask, oversized white shirt, pair of sweatpants, and a whole body of a Lee Felix have that much effect on him? He didn't know. He didn't want to know.
Everything that is Felix affects him so much―the smell of the freshly baked cookies and brownies that always, never faltering, makes him close his eyes and tear up, the smell of the mint toothpaste that Felix uses before he goes around trying to find someone to wrap his arms to, the smell of the tips of Felix's hair that flaunts right across his nostrils making him whip his head, and pull the former to his body; everything that screams Felix affects him so much.
What more if it was Felix's hand on his? What more if he noticed just how large his hand was compared to Felix? What more?
He didn’t realize that he was staring at the choreographer for too long when Felix wrapped an arm around his waist, “Hyunjin-ah,” and called him with such a voice that made him want to tuck the younger and shield him away from the world.
The choreographer looked at him intensely, maybe he was tired of waiting for Hyunjin to snap out of his Felix-dreamy-bubble, so Hyunjin didn’t have a choice but to let himself be dragged by Felix to where Jeongin was standing.
Breathe in. He tried to calm himself. Breathe out.
But how can he even calm himself down when Felix gave him the most adorable eye smile he has ever seen from anyone?
“So, Hyunjin-ssi will stand here and wait for Felix-ssi as he crosses the stage. Both of your left hands should hold each other. Felix-ssi, please turn around and face Hyunjin-ssi.” The choreographer carefully directed them while leading the other back-up dancers who were trying to mirror their part.
Seeing Felix turn around to face him with so much indignation never felt that fulfilling. It was as if Felix only had his eyes on him, and that only the way he moves mattered to Felix. May it be wishful thinking, but the moment Hyunjin looked down to see Felix’s hand suspended in the air, waiting for Hyunjin to clasp his hands against his own, was also the moment that Hyunjin felt something in him shift.
Feeling Felix’s palm against him was supposed to be just like the usual. Small hand trying its damn best to cradle his large one, small fingers filling in the space between his forefinger and thumb, and small eyes, too doe, too soft, gentle, and appraising, enough for him to feel the words in his throat to lodge and sit still.
A lump, a silence. All that he thought he could give to Felix was gone like the wind.
For the first time in front of Felix, he felt like a kid. A kid that was too awestruck for something too unreal, a kid that lets the silence be the sound of his wishes.
“Why are you so tense?” Felix mumbled to him before pulling him closer to adjust their distance just like how the choreography should go, “It’s okay, Hyunnie.”
And it’s not okay.
2.
Hyunjin should’ve known that it would take them hours after hours and days after days just to appease the contorted face of the dance leader that was staring at all of them with his directing eyes. Of course, Minho isn’t the dance leader for no reason. But after holding Felix’s hand for uncountable times that day, he felt like all the energy that he had slowly slipped out of him, and to the bubbling sunshine it went.
“I don’t think you were fast enough in lowering your body, Channie-hyung. Try it again.” He heard Minho tell Chan who, instead of huffing his breaths, smiled and just nodded, probably just to buy more time for the others to catch their souls that seeped out of their body from being asked to dance to their bones.
“Hyunjin-ah,” a voice called him to his side, and before he could ever turn his head around, his hand was already caught inside a pair that he knew so well, even when it was disguised by the sweat, “Are you tired?”
He should’ve said no because goddamn he truly was. He felt his neck ache, he felt a bit of cramp pooling on his calves, and even on his lower abdominal muscles were all yearning for him to stop rolling his hip like it isn't made up of ball and sockets. But again, how can he ever say no to Felix when Felix started pressing his delicate fingers against his palm and tried to massage an area that was the least sore, leaving him burning at each touch, and aching for wanting more?
He couldn’t even speak. His mind literally threw all the senses he had in mind and was just short-circuiting for trying to connect word after word like the literate Korean that he is, but nothing. He didn't have anything.
He opened his mouth and only a damned silence was heard from him.
It was the same thing.
Hyunjin knew it was the same thing.
It was the same thing when he felt yet another lump in his throat, blocking all the reason for his vocal cord to let out a sound. It felt tight in it―lulling down the words that would've been spared on to the smaller, yet pooled in his stomach.
He was good at speaking. He was good at being that dramatic ass bitch that will do whatever it takes to make sure that he gets what he wants.
And he knew that it was the same thing.
All but Felix.
Felix didn’t necessarily feel like Felix at all. Felix didn’t necessarily feel like the Felix at all. It was as if he was a new person, rather there was a new side of him that he willingly showed Hyunjin, and while Hyunjin wallowed in his unrelenting pit of worries, Felix placed his hand under his chin.
The edges of Felix’s facial hair threatened to tickle him, but his piercing eyes were more than the tickle and the prickle for it went straight to his mind. Engraved, embossed, deep in him—Felix will never stop holding his hand, is he?
He mustered enough courage, just to at least try and speak, “You—” and before he could ever continue what he was going to say, he was already cut by a series of claps, pulling them out of their fantasies.
Breathe in, Hyunjin. He spoke it to himself like a mantra for the seventh time that day. And breathe out.
But no matter how hard he tried to praise himself for doing the bare minimum job of breathing easily in Felix’s comfort, he just couldn’t. Not when Felix didn’t let go of his hand and pulled him to the middle, turning around once again and looking at him.
There was so much to say about Felix—starting from the way his smile looked so bright, his eyes crinkle at each stretch of his lips, his eyebrow furrows at a statement that he couldn’t fully understand, the way a blush creeps on the sides of his cheeks and ears, and even the way a chuckle sounded so heartily and loud while being muffed by pursed lips and a face mask.
There was so much to say and Hyunjin has nothing but himself.
Nothing mattered anymore. Not even Minho’s voice that told them to separate first and start on the second verse, not even Jisung’s snickering on the far corner of the room, probably too entertained by the way Hyunjin absentmindedly gripped on the hand that was trying to let go of him. Nothing mattered, until Felix nodded at him and finally let go.
For the second time in front of Felix, he felt like a kid that was longing for touch; a kid that was longing for love.
3.
Dragging his soles across the floor of the dorm, he didn't expect anyone to be up on the couch, bobbing his head, while watching something that can be easily blocked out by their mere breaths.
He stayed in the company building to practice his enunciation for a rap and some details of the dance. He was tired. In all forms of that statement. He could feel his shoulders ache, he could feel his muscles contract simultaneously, he could feel his lower back cramping ever so often, and most especially he could feel the need of his body to just take a break.
Or maybe eat something for the day because he was unable to, after overthinking about Felix when he shouldn’t even be doing that.
His mood shifted. A moment ago he was tired, but now he was tired, hungry, and curious.
Of anything that would greet him on that tiring night, of course it’d be Felix. He knew it was Felix—the drenched blond running from the roots of his hair to the tips were easily seen by the former blond. Of course, it’d be Felix.
Because if it isn’t Felix, he doesn't know if his knees can even bring his weight to the couch and slump just beside him.
“What are you doing?” He tried asking Felix who looked at him with so much glimmer in his eyes. The restless nights didn’t reflect on Felix’s skin. Not a wrinkle, not a shade darker on his under eyes—nothing. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
His voice probably just sounded like him. Weary, out of himself, a hair-thin on the edge, fragile, and almost broken if it weren’t for yet another small hand that tickled the palms of his right hand.
It was almost three in the morning and the only person awake to accompany his lonely, cold night was no other than the sunshine of the household. It was almost three in the morning, and he too, should’ve been on his bed, deadass tired, flat against the mattress, face plopped on the pillow yet here he was leaning over the warmth the Felix had around him, cradling him like he’s nothing but a kid looking for hugs.
It was almost three in the morning, and Felix really managed to make him feel like the clash curated in the morning bliss and basky sky. It was almost three in the morning and Hyunjin shouldn't be sniffing Felix's scent at that time, in that place, or ever.
“Was busy,” Felix mused at him, eyes quickly darting to the big screen of the television that played particularly nothing that would take Felix’s attention. He tilted his head and let Felix hold on to him all the while he did the same. “Was busy waiting for you actually.”
It was almost three in the morning and for the third time since the day he and Felix used to hold hands, he felt like he’s not much of a person who can actually utter a response to Felix who looked like he was waiting; he felt like he’s nothing of a 179 cm boy that was considered to be the tallest in the group—in front of Felix he’s just a kid.
Nothing made sense. He could blabber, “I— uh, well. I—I don’t—” and make a fool of himself. He could tatter his teeth against each other and push his tongue out to wet his lips. He could open his mouth and sigh. He could call Felix’s name, “Felix,” and again, “Yongbok-ah,” and again, “Lixie,” and he’ll be left with nothing but the desire of being the sweet scent that lingers around him.
Speak. Speak, for fuck's sake. He tried to pull himself out of his daze. But really, nothing made sense;
Absolutely nothing made sense. Not even the massive thumping against the ribcage of his chest, not even the jittery motion that left his fingers inside the comfort of Felix’s hand.
“Yes?” Felix answered him softly. It was almost a whisper, like people were there to listen to them.
If Felix ever listened closely, he’d hear the chaotic loudness in Hyunjin’s chest.
If Felix ever listened closely, he’d hear Hyunjin’s hitching breath that is tied up with the end of his name, and his name only, “Lix.”
A name shouldn't mean so much.
"Hyunjin?"
But Felix's name meant so much to him.
"Yongbok-ah."
4.
He wasn’t being himself.
He knew that by now.
He wasn’t being himself when he tried to stretch his neck out just to see where Felix was in every room that they entered. He wasn’t being himself when he curled his fingers to a fist every time Felix is out there with somebody else that isn’t him, cuddling the heck out of them. He wasn’t being himself when Jisung blatantly pointed that out to him, telling him that he stares more often at Felix than he stares at his own movements, knowing that he is a perfectionist.
“Get off me, Han,” which he quickly retorted, before averting his gaze from Felix and back at his drenched torso and shadowed eyes, “I wasn’t staring at him. I was just observing.”
Jisung was smirking beside him, watching him through the fogged reflection in front of them both, while Felix and Chan were at the corner of the room cuddling their sweaty bodies as they were being followed by Hyunjin’s eyes, unknowingly to the owner of the pair.
“See,” Jisung pointed it out with an exhale. He felt Jisung’s arm snake around his waist. “Observing your ass.”
In his defence, he was truly observing. He was observing every time Felix looked extra brighter at a statement that Chan told him. He was observing every time Felix would pucker his lips in front of Chan, and act like he’s not the most adorable ever. He was observing Felix, in all his parts, knowing that by the time Felix stands right in front of him, he’d be left with nothing but only pure adoration for the latter.
“I am, so please Ji, go fuck yourself.” He was tired and maybe Jisung realized that he was, and just patted his shoulders before leaving him alone.
Sitting with his legs wide open on the floor, he couldn't help himself but look at the same figures that he was looking at just earlier. Something about those were pulling him in, tempting him, making him flush with so much heat that made him wonder if it was because of the adrenaline in him or just his stupid feelings taking control of his body.
He really wasn't being himself. He knew that so well.
But Felix was right there, seen clearly with the littlest slit of his eyes, holding somebody else's hand that isn't his.
He knew he shouldn't be feeling this, but he does, and it doesn't feel good, nor did it feel bad. It just felt like a clash of his insides, words, mutters, confessions, mingling into one certain ache that pooled on his chest.
He bit the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from scowling because he shouldn't scowl. He didn't have the right to feel anything anyway yet here he was feeling everything.
Bitterness seeped on the tip of his tongue. The more he bit the insides of his cheeks the more he got reminded of how childish he was being.
Fucking breathe, Hyunjin. He begged himself, trying to calm himself from the inner turmoil that was trying to turnover his whole day in addition to him being sleep-deprived and so out of mood.
His knuckles turned white, he didn't realize he was clutching his fingers so tight. But they were free from reds, free from the boiling blood that was supposed to be running deep in his veins, and when Minho clapped loudly, his knuckles were anything but white.
"First chorus to the second verse!" The heat slowly dissipated, the bitterness was washed out and lodged down his throat, and the subtle wracking ache in his chest mingled with the sweat that he shrugged off after standing up.
What was he doing anyway? What was he doing letting a boy of his age cause a ruckus in his head just because of a mere choreography of hand-holding? What was he doing, wallowing in that pit of loneliness, feeling the lack of warmth that used to envelop his hand, and counting the days that he gets to hold Felix like no other?
What was he doing?
They all lined up to a pyramidical formation with Minho's eyes alerting and monitoring each and every movement that they make.
He tried to focus on what he's doing. Maybe if he watched his isolations more, he'd get to distract himself from the mere smiles that Felix threw over Chan as they interacted for a line in the song. He tried to squint his eyes so hard that he ended up feeling a headache just to be able to focus on what he needed to focus on. May it be Changbin who's mercilessly fucking the thin air, or may it be―who was he kidding?
It will always be Felix.
It was his part and he knew it was. He heard the all too familiar beat of it, he saw Minho moved towards his right and prepared for their dance. His body moves like it has its own accord. He glided, popped his shoulders, shuffled his feet, and turned around to look at Jisung killing his part.
It was all too fast for him.
His breath started to stagger, he could feel his pulse again, and he could feel a surging warmth in him that he couldn't explain.
He wasn't being himself. He knew that earlier, and he will never get tired of reiterating that
But seeing Felix run to him just to hold his hand made him realize everything.
The moment Felix held his hand, it all felt too real to ignore―
Too real as in the flush of his cheeks as he subconsciously stared at Felix's luscious lips; too real as in the grip he had on Felix's hand, clearly trying to own him, making him stay, in a span of twenty seconds.
He wasn't being himself because now that Felix returned the same grip he had, he lost everything in that to make some sense.
He had nothing.
He was nothing, but a mere kid trying to hold a hand, afraid to get lost in the maze that is Felix.
He stared down when Felix crouched and Seungmin's voice accompanied him. Felix was shining, but now with a different luster, for Hyunjin finally saw him differently.
5.
Do not blame him for standing up from his bed late at night just to be able to grab some snacks in the kitchen after Minho literally made them dance for two hours straight with occasional 5 minutes break. Aside from his neverending complaint of being tired, being drained, and being too dumb to notice Felix on the other side of the hallway, do not blame him for bumping into Felix, and making the smaller trample on his feet and almost knock his forehead against Hyunjin’s chest.
“Oh—” Felix's voice alarmed him quickly and without a second thought he wrapped his free arm around Felix’s waist, and let his ear get deafen by the internal debate caused by his mind and his heart that was thumping so loudly. “Oh! Hyunnie!”
This guy. Hyunjin was desperate. If Felix wouldn’t stop looking that adorable he’d combust. This guy!
“Sorry.” He lightly mumbled, too indulged in the way he shouldn’t keep Felix close because it’s too unnatural.
But Felix held him tighter and pulled him.
“Are you hungry?" Hyunjin didn't know just how Felix could look so bright in the middle of the night.
If Felix only listened closer, Hyunjin is sure that he'd be able to listen to the maddening sounds that Hyunjin tried to dissipate with his wiggling body. But Felix didn't listen closely, only that he made sure that Hyunjin wouldn't be able to get out of his hold.
Hyunjin could kiss Felix right there and then.
This was sickening to think for Hyunjin, but he definitely could. Right after seeing Felix in a different way than what a friend should, he tried his hardest to stay away from Felix's line of sight. He knew he wasn't anyone special nor can he offer something different, and that was what made it sickening.
He nodded, frozen in his stance with just Felix's breath fanning on neck.
"I'll eat with you."
He swore. He could kiss Felix right there and then, if only it wasn't for Felix's abrupt movement that quickly pulled him to the kitchen without any time to adjust.
His hand was always inside Felix's.
His hand was always the indication of the start of his inner turmoil that will cause a ruckus in him.
His hand, whenever Felix's hand starts to make him think of how perfect Felix's hand was to be held by him, his hand is always the first one to tell him that he's anything but a man for Felix.
"Hyunjin-ah, do you want me to cook noodles for you?" Even Felix's voice wasn’t making any sense.
He knew he should answer. He is more than capable of answering a simple yes or no.
But with a raise of his head from his dumbfounded stance, he saw Felix looking at him with so much wonder and adoration, waiting for him to finally speak without rushing. It felt like he had the time—the time to finally tell Felix that he’s so beautiful; that whenever a member tells him that he is the sunshine and one who shines so bright, it was the truth, and most importantly his truth; that he makes Hyunjin be the person that he usually wasn’t.
He wanted to say ‘yes, please,’ but he didn’t. He wanted to say ‘Felix, I’m sorry,’ but he didn’t. He wanted to say ‘I like you,’ but he didn’t. He wanted to say ‘And I shouldn’t be liking you,’ but he didn’t.
He didn’t have the courage to. He didn’t have the strength to. He didn’t know if he could take what Felix would offer in return. He didn’t know.
There are a lot of things that he didn’t know for he is just a kid after all.
“You’re not answering,” Felix called him out before turning around to open the drawer to get two packs of instant noodles. “I hope you’re okay with this spicy shit?”
Meters away from him is Felix.
Maybe to other people Felix in his oversized shirt was ordinary, an everyday event. That his rummaged hair was just the same blond ragged tips; that his bouncing shoulders are just a simple reminder that he was having fun doing whatever it was that he was doing.
But Hyunjin isn’t a part of that other people.
Felix, in Hyunjin’s eyes, was everything.
It didn’t matter if Felix was cursing his way to boil the water nor if Felix was about to wake people up in the dorm for showing off his growl, just to deem an object useless. It didn’t matter.
Because everything that Felix does is Felix himself.
And Hyunjin must be so fucked up to be so enamored with that just because of a choreography that could be for anyone, but was meant for him and Felix.
These, the realizations he just got, were sickening.
Felix pulled his attention away from blatantly staring with a bowl of hot, steaming, spicy soup of ramyeon that he wouldn’t probably be able to tolerate, nor will Felix, but since Felix cooked it, he just had to eat it.
Everytime their hands touch, he feels his breath hitch. Everytime their eyes meet, he feels his heart thump. And everytime Felix smiles, he feels himself shy away and cradles back to his bed.
“Eat up.” It was just a small mutter of encouragement, but Hyunjin took it as a sign to slurp two spoonfuls of soup and let the spiciness of the ramyeon cover up for the flushing of his cheeks for just merely looking at Felix.
So unfair. He wanted to say something, to lean closer, to at least be a man enough to reach Felix, yet he can’t. No matter how hard he tries to picture this in his mind, he plains out with nothing but a mere face of expectation.
“Hyunnie, there is something wrong, right?”
But what is so wrong with feeling things for Felix? What is so wrong with seeing Felix in a different way? What is so wrong with choosing Felix?
What is so wrong when he feels just right?
Felix was looking at him and he let Felix. He wasn’t being subtle in any way. His actions were an enough indication for what he feels, his eyes that always tries to keep Felix in his arms-reach were obvious—what is so wrong then?
“Don’t look at me like that.” Hyunjin tried to brush it off, or to flirt, who knows?
But if Felix won’t stop, Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to either.
He’s just a kid, after all.
+1
It was the last rehearsal before they filmed for the music video.
It was a huge thanks to Seungmin for waking him up before Minho ever throws a pillow at him and let him suffocate which he would be grateful for, in all honesty, but nothing is in par with the way he repeated all his antics all over to the top, just to be able to sight Felix tying his hair.
Jisung evidently annoyed him by poking his side every so often and while he couldn’t bear the pokes without hitting Jisung on his shoulder, he still finds himself looking over his back and catching Felix giggling inside Changbin’s arm.
He felt himself rile up in the process.
“Oh calm your ass down,” Jisung interjected, pulling his waist to him and forcing him to stay on the opposite side of the practice room away from Felix. “Felix won’t go anywhere.”
He could have denied everything and just say that he, once again, was just observing. But Jisung wasn’t even anywhere wrong with what he was implying.
“Why can’t he just stay by my side?” He sulked hard, which made Jisung cackle at him loudly, enough for the other members minding their own business to look over at the two of them.
“Dude,” he tried to calm a hysterical Jisung down. “Stop laughing at my misery.”
If Jisung would be honest, it wouldn’t be a misery anymore if his dear friend, Hyunjin, just even man up to take care of his feelings and just tell Felix—but of course, Hyunjin wasn’t a man, let alone was a man enough to be courageous.
And Hyunjin somehow knew that Jisung had a point.
“I told you, Hyunjin-ah. Tell him. But you and your flat ass keep on running away when you finally get the chance.” Jisung shrugged his shoulders and tapped Hyunjin’s head.
Hyunjin didn't need to tell Jisung what was running in his mind. Jisung just went inside his room and tackled him, only to wrack his head with his knuckles and pillows just to make him confess to the twin of the former.
“It might be wrong.” He defended himself, sighing upon checking Changbin playing with Felix’s hair.
Jisung looked at him with an expression that he couldn’t point out. Whatever expression that Jisung had on his face was making him feel nervous nevertheless, and upon the last swat of Jisung’s hand on the side of his neck, he was struck with the words that he didn’t know that he’ll ever hear from Jisung.
“Dude, what’s wrong with liking someone?”
If only he was capable of saying something whenever Felix breathes his way, then that’d be nice, because every single time Felix holds his hand, may it be because of a choreography or not, he only has nonsense coursing in his body.
He couldn’t even look at Felix when Felix stood in front of him, he couldn't even tighten his grip the way that he usually would whenever Jeongin begins to sing his line in the center of pairs of tangled arms, he just couldn’t do anything, now that he knew what he had to do.
It wasn’t his fault for feeling like this. It wasn’t his fault that he was just mesmerized by Felix.
Anyone would fall for Felix anyway.
But maybe not in the same way.
He felt Felix’s hand wiggle in his hold. As much as he wanted to turn his head sideways to look at Felix who’s probably looking at him right now, he couldn’t.
One pull—Felix for sure tried to pull him harder. Two pulls—Felix hung on his touch a little longer.
It was making him sick, insane, and afraid.
Because the more that he wanted Felix, the more it got harder to want him.
Felix was back. Felix pulled him harder. Felix hung on his touch longer. Felix was back, again. Felix pulled him harder. Felix hung on his touch longer. Felix was back, again and again—
And for the sixth time since the day the choreographer decided to kill Hyunjin by letting him touch Felix for twenty seconds every time they practice the dance of a song, he felt something shift in him.
Felix looked at him through the mirror as he spat his line. Felix looked at him deadpan straight as he turned around. Felix looked at him and he couldn’t bring his eyes back down for Felix held his gaze.
It was a recurring encounter. It was the same thing that they’ve been doing. But this time, it was different. He felt differently and Felix must’ve felt the same way.
Hyunjin took one step closer and his throat felt dry. He took another step closer and it got harder. Suddenly, it felt like they weren’t dancing anymore, they weren’t catching the fast rhythm and pace with the beats just to be able to go through the choreography. They both didn't raise their arms and crossed it around Jeongin the way Chan and Changbin did, they stayed there, with Jisung carefully watching the scene unfold, and Minho readying himself to talk some sense to two of his dancemates.
He would’ve spoken if he could, but he couldn’t.
So all he did was to do what only he could do.
The song didn’t stop and it felt unromantic to do what he was planning to do in the middle of Seungmin’s voice singing ‘freezing cold’, but it didn’t matter anymore.
For when he raised Felix’s hand up and pressed his lips against it was everything that he was dying to say for the past weeks.
And never did Felix blush so hard to the point of crouching down.
+2
It became a thing with them.
That everytime that certain part of the dance would come, they’d look at each other and have themselves reminded of the way they pined for each other. Leaving each other’s gazes and touches with a smile, they’d go back and look into the camera like nothing happened behind it.
To others, it may just be choreography, but to Hyunjin and to Felix, it wasn’t.