Chapter Text
The last thing he is expecting is to see Felix at his door in the middle of the night.
Jack and Felix have been longtime friends for years, but haven't really talked to each other face to face in a great deal of time. It's been over a year, as a matter of fact, and Jack hadn't even known he was in town.
But there he is, looking utterly miserable with red rimmed eyes, and a trembling body as the chilly night air rolls in through his apartment door. Jack takes a moment to be shocked, before Felix's soft, “Jack...” breaks him out of his thoughts.
He ushers him inside, sitting him down on the couch as he wraps a blanket around his cold shoulders. Jack grabs some of the lukewarm tea from the kettle he'd made himself earlier and pours it into a mug before it goes into the microwave. Mentally, he tries to recall what Felix likes in his tea—a few sugars, and milk? Jack settles on a spoon and a half of sugar in the mug, stirring it quickly before rushing back in. Felix has settled himself under the blanket, wiping at his eyes, as more seem to fall.
Jack sits down next to him, offering him the mug. Felix takes it gratefully, sipping at it, and when he sighs, some of the tension leaving him, Jack prompts, “Felix?”
Felix says nothing for a while. He runs his finger up and down the mug a few times, and Jack leans back next to him, staring up at the ceiling. It's been way too long since he's seen his best friend, and he realizes this only because he has no idea of what's going on. If they were closer, he might have a guess, but now...
“Marzia,” Felix whispers, setting his mug on the coffee table, and Jack looks to him. Felix meets his gaze, and his eyes are as blue as ever. When Jack cocks a brow at him, Felix amends, “My girlfriend. She...well, my ex-girlfriend, I should say...she...some things came up and...God, I just---”
He starts crying again. Jack's heart breaks, especially as Felix blubbers out, “I didn't know what to do, so I came—so I came to you, because you're the—the only person I could think of--”
Felix sucks in a sharp breath, and Jack pulls him into a fierce hug. The Swede buries his face into Jack's shoulder, shaking uncontrollably. He tries to soothe him gently, mumbling almost nonsensical comforts, but nothing seems to work.
A million things are running through his mind. Felix had mentioned ex-girlfriend, so apparently they weren't together anymore. Apparently Felix had really liked her. Apparently, he thought Jack could help him.
Which he can't. Not really. If anything, Jack seems to be making it worse.
“Hey,” Jack tries, petting Felix's hair. It's soft to the touch, just as soft as he remembers, and his heart clenches.
He swallows any feelings he may have down.
C'mon, Jack, he thinks. Think of the cute guy across the hall.
Before he can fully imagine his cute, slightly Asian neighbor, Felix whispers, “Jack?”
He pulls away, and Felix locks eyes with him again. His blue eyes are even more intense than they had been before, and Jack swallows, unsure of what to say. Felix reaches up and it takes all of Jack's energy not to lean into his touch as Felix's fingers graze his cheek, settling there, mumbling, “I've really missed you, you know?”
“I've missed you too,” Jack replies, hoping he doesn't sound as choked as he feels.
Surprisingly, Felix laughs, though strained. His hand never leaves his face. “You still sound Irish as ever, you mad bastard.”
“I visit home pretty often,” Jack says, finding it in himself to smile. “Seems you lost that heavy Swedish accent, though.”
“I'm still Swedish to my core.”
There's a moment of stillness after that, where Jack hears nothing but the sound of their breathing. He almost feels like he's in a daze, until Felix shifts, and he places one hand on Jack's knee. He doesn't move. Felix's other hand remains on his cheek, and when Jack says nothing, Felix leans in and kisses him.
Feelings burst within him. Jack had managed to suppress all of the feelings he'd ever had for his best friend up until this point, but actually, physically kissing him sent shivers down his spine. Instinctively, he fists his fingers into the front of Felix's shirt, yanking him in closer, and closer, never breaking the kiss. It's messy and hot and so fucking wrong but Jack can't get enough.
Making out with Felix Kjellberg on his couch at 10:56 PM on a Wednesday night hadn't been Jack's plan at all.
He knows he's going to regret this in the morning. Jack absolutely knows he's going to regret this in the morning, because he's twenty-five years old and people don't just kiss their best friends. Felix is freshly out of a relationship, and he's vulnerable. Jack should stop him.
But he can't. He can't get enough. Jack wants everything he can get from this. He leans back on the couch and pulls Felix on top of him, groaning in pleasure as Felix readily complies with their newfound positions.
Tomorrow is another day. And as Jack loses himself in bliss, he thinks tomorrow is a good day to deal with it.