Archive of Our Own ^beta

For as long as he could remember, the 'F' in 'Felix' had always stood for 'Fragile.' To describe the disdain he felt for that label was an understatement; currently, it felt sharper than ever, gnawing at him like a relentless flame.

Recently, Felix had formed an unexpected bond with a controversial K-pop boy band called 'Spade,' comprised of three strikingly male members. Known for their scandalous antics and reckless behavior, the group had garnered a storm of negative press shortly after their debut. From making inappropriate comments on live broadcasts to harassing fans on the streets, they had established a notorious reputation for being blatantly intolerable offstage. Yet, despite their checkered past, Spade had managed to maintain their popularity, largely thanks to the glaring double standards pervasive in the K-pop industry. Most of their misdeeds were either forgotten or overlooked, fading into the backdrop of their ongoing success.

This sordid history had led even their fellow artists to keep their distance, especially during high-profile events like award shows. Stray Kids, Felix's own group, was no exception. While the other seven members were grateful that Felix had managed to avoid public association with Spade, they couldn’t shake the twinge of worry that nested within them. After all, their concern stemmed from more than just their public image; it was rooted deep in their affection for Felix.

Everything came to a head on the night of an award ceremony, where Stray Kids and Spade went head-to-head for the coveted title of 'Best New Album.' The atmosphere was thick with tension and anticipation, and when Stray Kids emerged victorious, their dressing room was filled with both laughter and relief. However, the celebration took an unexpected turn when the three Spade members brazenly knocked on their door, seeking to extend their congratulations.

As the door swung open, the first to step forward was Ahn Daekyong, the oldest of the Spade members, whose expression was marred by a bitter smirk. “Congratulations,” he greeted bluntly, standing with an air of feigned nonchalance.

“Thank you, hyung. Your new album is great too!” Felix responded enthusiastically, his voice brightened by genuine appreciation, unaware of the resentful glances exchanged between the other members of Spade and his own group.

“Felix,” Changbin interjected, his tone sharp, laced with protective instincts. It was clear he found the Spade members nothing short of insincere, and his defensive nature bubbled to the surface.

Daekyong, seemingly indifferent to Changbin’s presence, flashed a sarcastic smile. “Why, thank you, Felix. I’ve listened to your new album. Is it true? You’re the one with the deep voice?”

Felix nodded shyly, his cheeks warming slightly. “Well, yes.”

“Your voice doesn’t match your face at all,” quipped a second member, Inchul, leaning against the wall with an amused glint in his eye. Changbin bristled, anxiety tightening his stomach as he stood closely behind Felix, on guard for any sign of trouble.

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Felix shot back, attempting to defuse the tension with humor. Yet, his light-hearted approach did little to ease Changbin’s growing irritation.

Laughter erupted from the Spade members, and Inchul leaned a bit closer, his gaze locked onto Felix’s. “Of course, it's not an insult. I’m just surprised that such a cute and beautiful face holds such a voice,” he said, the words hanging in the air laden with flirtation.

The atmosphere shifted; the other Stray Kids members exchanged incredulous looks as the realization dawned on them.

He did not just flirt with our boyfriend.

Inchul’s next move was audacious—he brushed his hand under Felix’s chin, subtly lifting his face for a better look. Felix’s eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy. But before he could fully process the moment, Changbin, fueled by a rush of protectiveness, took Felix by the wrist and pulled him away from Inchul's unwanted advance. The Spade members instinctively stepped back, momentarily thrown off balance.

“Oh, sorry. Not comfortable?” Inchul asked, a blend of mock concern lacing his voice, as if he relished in the confusion he’d caused.

“No, it’s... fine,” Felix stammered, laughter mingling nervously with surprise as he slowly eased his wrist out of Changbin’s grip.

“Felix, hand me the costume and lapel you used. We need to return them to the manager before we leave,” Chan directed, his voice shifting to English, a clear tone of authority emerging as he tried to steer the conversation back on track. Felix felt a rush of bewilderment at the sudden change in Chan’s demeanor.

“It was nice talking to you, Felix. And uhm, let us know if you ever want to meet again,” Daekyong said with an air of insincerity, glancing past Felix at the rest of Stray Kids. “Hopefully, your friends will ease up to us by then.”

Felix offered a weak smile, nodding appreciatively, “Likewise. And... I hope so too.” Yet, the silence that enveloped the dressing room after the Spade members departed spoke volumes, as the other Stray Kids members processed the gravity of Felix's statement.

Finally, the door clicked shut, and a collective sigh of relief washed over the group, allowing them to breathe again, but the tension lingered in the air.

“Felix, now,” Chan repeated, his voice low and filled with barely restrained anger. He had always detested situations where someone threatened their bond, and tonight had just stirred the pot.

"Yes!" Felix exclaimed, a hint of attitude creeping into his voice as he unsnapped the lapel microphone clipped to his pants. With purposeful strides, he approached Chan, offering the device with an unreadable expression.

"What on earth was that?" Hyunjin was the first to voice his disbelief, his gaze locked onto Felix with a mix of concern and incredulity.

Felix furrowed his brow, genuinely confused. "I don’t understand what you mean."

Changbin let out a resigned sigh, aiming to simplify the situation. "Yongbokkie, you know that we shouldn’t be associating with them. And especially not allowing them to flirt with you."

Felix’s brows knitted deeper, his confusion morphing into mild frustration. “And 'I hope so too'? Are you serious?” Seungmin chimed in, his tone laced with irritation.

“You're all overreacting,” Felix defended himself. “Didn’t you see how nice they were? The way you all reacted seemed rude!” His argument held more bewilderment than anger.

“They're problematic, Lixie-hyung, everyone knows that,” Jeongin interjected without facing him, his fingers urgent as he wiped off the makeup smudged across his face.

“Right,” Han agreed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “There’s a reason why we were being 'rude' earlier.” He emphasized the word 'rude' with air quotes, the sarcasm evident in his posture.

Felix glanced around at his friends, frustration evident in the slight tightening of his jaw.

Minho, noticing the growing tension on Felix's face, took a calming breath and offered a gentle explanation. "We know you’re friendly to almost everyone, but some people just don’t deserve your kindness, Yongbok-ah.”

Felix paused, momentarily taken aback, the weight of Minho's words hanging heavy in the air. He struggled to articulate a response.

“I’m tired,” he finally murmured, turning on his heel and walking away to find solace in the bathroom.

As they drove back to their dorms that night, the atmosphere was so thick with tension that the silence felt almost tangible, making it possible to hear a pin drop.

Yet when they arrived home, Chan immediately wrapped Felix in a warm embrace, trying to convey the reasons behind his group's reactions. Felix, however, remained adamant that the Spade members had merely been friendly. Chan didn’t argue further; he recognized that there was no point in assuming Felix would see their perspective. The older Aussie merely wished that the members of Spade would give them some space for the time being.

For a while, it seemed that luck was on their side.

Until fate threw another encounter their way.

One evening, while the rest of the group was occupied, Felix decided to venture out to the grocery store to pick up dinner supplies. 3racha was still at the studio, I.N and Seungmin were lost in their vocal lessons, and Minho and Hyunjin were diligently working on a new choreography. Confidently, Felix assured everyone that he would be just fine on his own.

And he was safe—at least, that’s what he believed.

But if his boyfriends learned who he ran into at the grocery store, their opinions might drastically differ.

Standing in line at the cashier, Felix leaned casually against the cart, his mind drifting as he waited.

“Felix?”

The voice startled him, and he turned to see an oddly familiar face at the nearby cashier station.

“It is you! Wow, it’s been a while,” the stranger said with a grin, his expression a mixture of surprise and excitement.

Felix tilted his head, brows knitting together in confusion. “Sorry? I don’t seem to know you.”

“Ah, my mistake! I’m Yeom. From Spade. We didn’t really get a chance to talk the last time we crossed paths.” He extended a hand, greeting Felix with firm confidence.

The blond shook his hand. “Oh! Spade! Yes, I remember you now—didn't you have neon green hair back then?” Felix replied, a gleeful smile breaking across his face.

Yeom chuckled, a light ease settling in his demeanor. “Yeah, it was quite the look. We were actually hoping to meet you again, but we totally forgot to give you our numbers. So, uh…”

With a pen and scrap of paper from the cashier’s station, Yeom hastily scribbled his number and held out the sticky note. “Here’s my number,” he said, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Felix replied, pocketing the paper and wondering what it actually meant.

Once the note was secure, Yeom effortlessly began striking up a conversation.

“So, how have you been? I’m surprised your friends aren’t with you. They seemed really protective the last time,” he remarked casually.

Friends.

Felix shook the thought away and shrugged, trying to brush off the concern. “Yeah, but they’re always like that, honestly. Don’t mind them.”

“Always like that? Why? Are you the maknae of the group too?” Yeom asked, swinging his hands as though they were already friends. “I’m the maknae, so my hyungs can get super protective. Daekyong-hyung would beat up anyone if they said something about me. And Inchul-hyung? He would literally slap the manager if she gave me an outfit I didn’t like.”

Surprise flickered across Felix’s face; the image of a protective older brother flashed momentarily in his mind, and it did not match what Yeom was saying. But he quickly pushed the thought aside, feeling skeptical about continuing this conversation. “I’m not the maknae… I’m the third youngest, but they still protect me,” Felix clarified, allowing a warm feeling to blossom in his chest at the thought of their support.

“Sounds tough,” Yeom shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Felix’s interest was piqued, his brows raising. “How so?”

Yeom shrugged again, almost dismissively. “I mean, if they’re so protective, it almost seems like they think you’re fragile. Like you’re weak in their eyes. And the fact you’re not even the maknae?” Yeom whistled.

Felix felt a pang of unease at the unexpected remark. “I’m sure that’s not how they see me. I protect the others as much as they protect me,” he replied, attempting to assert his strength even in the face of doubt.

“Are you really sure? But if that’s what you say, then I won’t push,” Yeom said, a sly glint in his eyes as if he was tempting Felix to see things differently.

Am I sure? What if they actually think of me that way?

“Unless you’re actually sensitive,” Yeom added, teasingly, almost as if he was baiting Felix into revealing more than he was comfortable with.

“Why? Is there something wrong with that?” Felix challenged lightly but maintained a soft expression. He knew that he had his moments of vulnerability, but he could stand his ground when necessary.

“Next!” The cashier’s voice cut through the air, intervening just as Yeom was about to respond.

“Anyway, call me anytime,” Yeom finished, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he waved goodbye, leaving Felix with a mix of emotions swirling in his mind.

Later that night, Felix sat on the edge of his bed, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as he hesitated for a moment. Curiosity gnawed at him, compelling him to text the mysterious number he had received. Could it truly belong to Yeom? When a reply flashed onto the screen, Felix felt a rush of anticipation. Yeom’s message read, ‘I'm sorry if I upset you earlier; it was not my intention.’

In that instant, the weight of his suspicions regarding the Spade members, fueled by rumors and whispers, evaporated like mist in the morning sun.

Felix and Yeom didn’t converse daily, but their exchanges were frequent enough to cultivate a genuine friendship. He had always been aware that keeping this connection hidden from his boyfriends was wrong, yet he convinced himself it was manageable—at least for a while.

That illusion, however, was fragile, and Felix sensed it was only a matter of time before the truth surfaced, leaving him grappling with the inevitable consequences.

'Daekyong-hyung is hosting a party later at 9, wanna come? ;)'

As the boys gathered in the dimly lit dormitory one evening, the savory aromas of dinner filled the air, mingling with the sounds of clattering pots and sizzling ingredients. Felix, feeling a flutter of nerves in his stomach, finally found his courage as he glanced over at Chan, who was already seated at the worn wooden dinner table, a comfortable smile gracing his face.

The atmosphere was lively, with Minho and Seungmin bustling around the kitchen, their focused chatter and laughter blending harmoniously with the sounds of cooking. Han and Changbin were wrapping up the new songs they'd been writing in their room and were on their way down, Hyunjin was cleaning up his painting area, and Jeongin was washing up in the bathroom.

Felix prepared to voice a question that had been on his mind.

"Channie-hyung, can I ask you something?" Felix’s voice was a soft whisper, barely lifting from the surface of the dining table where he sat, glancing nervously at the older man seated across from him.

“Sure, but only if you stop fidgeting with your food,” Chan replied, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he gently grasped Felix's hand, halting the younger's absent-minded picking at the colorful assortment of vegetables on his plate.

Felix blinked, momentarily surprised at his own actions. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then continued, visibly gathering his courage, “Um, I wanted to know if I could go somewhere tonight?”

Chan raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and concern flitting across his features. “Of course, you can. You know you don’t have to ask me that, right? I’m not here to impose strict rules,” he teased lightly, but his tone shifted, taking a more serious turn. “Unless you’re planning on going somewhere… Where exactly do you want to go?”

Felix shifted in his seat, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “It’s just a party,” he replied, his voice barely stronger than a whisper.

“A party! Sounds awesome, whose party is it?” Chan's interest piqued, though an undercurrent of caution threaded through his words.

“Uh, Daekyong-hyung is hos—" Felix began, but was cut off by Chan’s sudden change in demeanor. The mood grew tense, Chan’s eyebrows knitting together as concern flooded his thoughts. Before he could voice his unease, another voice broke the air.

“Absolutely not.”

The command was firm, sent from across the kitchen where Minho stood, seemingly engrossed in the sizzling pan before him. The blade of his knife etched a rhythm against the cutting board, his eyes on it, but his attention was also fixed on Felix.

“Hyung—” Felix attempted to defend himself, but was swiftly silenced.

“You’re not going there. That's my final answer,” Minho asserted, turning down the heat beneath the sizzling meat with a practiced hand, his jaw set.

Felix bristled, his temper flaring. “I wasn’t asking you!” he shot back, his tone rising in defiance. “God, I knew I should’ve asked in English,” he muttered under his breath, but his voice was loud enough for the others to catch.

“What did you just say?” Minho’s voice hardened, a flash of anger igniting in his eyes as he turned to meet Felix’s gaze. The younger boy looked down, guilt starting to churn in his stomach; he realized too late how his words had landed, but he was still so blinded.

“Are you really avoiding asking me about these kinds of things? Why?” Minho pressed, vexation creeping into his demeanor, feeling the sting of being dismissed because of a language barrier.

“I don’t like asking you things because I already know what you’ll say!” Felix exclaimed, his frustration bubbling over.

“Do you really believe Chan-hyung would respond differently? Go on, try,” Minho challenged, crossing his arms with an air of authority.

Trapped in Minho’s scrutiny, Felix felt backed into a corner. Why did Minho always have such a way with words? He felt powerless against the older's steel resolve.

“What you said wasn’t right, Lixie. I understand you want things to go your way, but you can't disrespect your Minho-hyung. His decision doesn’t vary from mine once I learned who’s hosting the party,” Chan interjected gently, attempting to soothe the rising tempers in the room.

Felix’s anger only flared, his thoughts spiraling to only one line Chan had uttered. “I want things to go my way? You guys have been controlling me ever since I talked to Daekyong!”

At that moment, the other members chose their entry to the dining area, curious about the tension lingering in the air.

“What’s going on?” Jeongin asked, a towel draped over his shoulders, droplets of water glistening in his hair.

“Lixie wants to go to a party, but it’s hosted by Spade. Who knows what could happen?” Seungmin stated matter-of-factly, the tantalizing aroma of the cooked food wafting through the room as he began to plate it.

“What?” The combined shock of the four new arrivals echoed in unison.

“Is that really how you’ve been feeling?” Chan’s voice softened, genuine worry creeping into his features as he turned his attention back to Felix, grasping the younger’s hands in his own, his fingers running soothingly over them.

“Yes! And it’s so suffocating!” Felix exclaimed, the frustration spilling over, his voice growing more intense.

“We would never want to control you, Lix, but when it comes to those guys, we have to draw a line. It’s because they’re—” Han started, his voice edging toward urgency.

“Problematic? Come on, those scandals were years ago, Han!” Felix burst out, pulling his hands away from Chan’s gentle hold, startling his boyfriend in the process.

“Wait,” Minho interrupted, piecing together the puzzle. “How did you even know he was hosting a party tonight?”

Suddenly, all eyes were fixed on Felix, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and a touch of apprehension.

“Lee Yongbok, answer his question,” Changbin demanded, his tone tinged with authority.

Felix exhaled a shaky breath, rolling his eyes. “Okay, maybe I have one of the members’ numbers and we’ve been talking,” he confessed reluctantly.

Disappointment flickered across the older members' faces, while the others stood immobilized in surprise.

“But it’s just that! Nothing else to be alarmed about!” Felix rushed to explain, desperation leaking into his voice.

“We don’t keep secrets from each other, Yongbok-ah,” Minho replied, trying to hide the touch of hurt in his tone unsuccessfully, fearing that perhaps they had done something wrong that caused Felix to hide any part of his life from them.

“I know that. I’m sorry,” Felix pleaded, his heart sinking. “I won’t do it again. I swear,” he added earnestly, hoping it would assuage their concerns and persuade them to reconsider their stance on his attendance at Daekyong’s gathering.

“Besides that, you still shouldn’t go,” Hyunjin chimed in, his voice steady and firm. “We all know what their reputation is like.”

“See? Then you’re shocked when I keep something from you,” Felix muttered defiantly under his breath, frustration wrapping around his words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Changbin responded, confusion etched into his features.

Felix lifted his head, emotions swirling within him. “You guys act like I can’t handle myself out there or that I-I'm weak when I can take care of myself just fine!”

“Lix, we’re just protecting you—” Hyunjin attempted, but was silenced by Felix’s rising tide of emotion.

Felix scoffed, each word a sharp edge. “Yeah, protecting me. That’s why people think I’m sensitive and weak and that I can’t stand up for myself,” the words spilled out, each syllable draped in exasperation and hurt.

“Who told you those things?” Minho asked, his voice laced with disbelief, mirroring the shock of the other members who had paused their movements, their fascination shifting to concern.

There was nothing inherently wrong with relying on someone else. There was no shame in not feeling strong every single moment. The warmth of being protected, and the comfort that came with it, didn’t signify fragility, sensitivity, or weakness.

But Felix was oblivious to this truth.

Yeom had just imparted this perspective to him, but it felt like a distant echo rather than a comforting balm.

"No one," Felix replied with a fervor that betrayed his inner turmoil, his gaze averted as he battled back the tears threatening to spill over. The weight of his feelings bore down on him, and it was painfully clear—no one had ever articulated that to him since Yeom had brought it to light and retracted his earlier sentiment. Up until this moment, it was only Felix who had been whispering these thoughts to himself, a solitary voice in his tumultuous mind.

"Yongbok-ah—" Minho began to call out, his tone thick with frustration, but Chan interceded before the atmosphere could escalate further.

"Take a breath. We can’t discuss anything rationally if we let our emotions spiral out of control," Chan gently urged, his demeanor soothing and steady.

With a shaky sigh, Felix mustered the courage to speak. "May I be excused?"

"Yes, you can. But please come down to eat later, and we’ll talk things over again. Understand?" Chan’s voice was calm, filled with an understanding that felt as though it wrapped around Felix like a gentle embrace.

Nodding slowly, Felix turned and made his way upstairs, each step heavy with a mixture of sadness and relief. Once out of his boyfriends' line of sight, he finally allowed the tears to cascade down his cheeks, the floodgates opening as he entered the sanctuary of his room.

Collapsing onto his bed in a heap, he pulled out his phone with trembling fingers, desperately seeking solace.

'Yeom, I can't go. They didn't allow me.'

He tossed the device onto his nightstand, frustration bubbling within him until a soft beep pierced the silence.

'So? Sneak out! It’s not like you need their permission anyway. They’re just your friends.'

The unexpected reply jolted him; it felt surreal and slightly reckless.

'I can’t do that. And even if they are just that, they’ll worry about me.'

'Come on, you've never rebelled before? Didn’t know you were such a coward.'

Felix bit down on his cheek, feeling the sting of the insult cut through his already vulnerable state. He didn’t want to deal with that right now.

'Fine, I'll go. Send me the address.'

He hastily changed into clothes suitable for the outdoors, feeling both anxious and exhilarated. He needed to escape; there was a desperate urge within him to break free from the constraints of the moment. With heart pounding, he snuck out through the window, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he jumped down with hardly a second thought.

As he navigated through the night, he checked his phone repeatedly, anxiously ensuring he wasn't straying too far off course. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, half an hour, and one taxi ride later, he finally stood before the door of the club to which he had been guided. The pulsing music and strobing lights beckoned him, a world of chaos and liberation waiting just beyond the threshold.

"Name?"

"Lee Felix."

The guard swung open the heavy door, and Felix stepped inside, his head held high, but an unsettling knot twisted in his stomach. He had no idea what chaos awaited him in the dimly lit, raucous room.

"Felix, you made it!" Yeom's voice cut through the pulsating music and clamor, a jubilant shout that somehow pierced the haze of noise surrounding them.

"This party seems like an absolute whirlwind!" Felix yelled back, instinctively cupping one ear to muffle the din.

"Yeah! How long are you planning to stick around?" Yeom asked, his tone lively, excitement bubbling over.

"I'll probably just hang out for a bit. Parties aren’t really my scene," Felix admitted, the truth weighing heavily on his words.

"Oh, come on! That's no fun! You should stay for the beer pong and get a little tipsy. We might even spark up a blunt!" Yeom sang, wrapping a heavy arm around Felix’s shoulders. The overwhelming scent of cheap alcohol wafted off him, making Felix question if Yeom was already riding the waves of inebriation.

"I really don’t think I—" Felix began, a sense of foreboding swelling in his chest. Perhaps his boyfriends were right to urge him to avoid this place.

"Sit down! Get comfy!" Yeom insisted, practically dragging Felix to a worn-out couch surrounded by a group of boisterous gamblers. A woman perched on a man’s lap, stringy hair cascading across her face, while stacks of cash littered the table. The other men present exuded a rough vibe that screamed trouble.

"Hey, pretty boy, wanna join the game?" one of the men called out, his voice gravelly and slurred, scrutinizing Felix with predatory eyes.

"No, thank you," Felix replied, shuddering involuntarily at the thought of interacting with these strangers, feeling the need to detach himself from the escalating tension. He rose from the couch, searching for a refuge away from the oppressive energies that clung to the air.

He soon spotted a larger cluster of people, believing it might bring him some comfort, and relief washed over him when a familiar face emerged from the crowd.

"Felix!" The warm and recognizable voice of Inchul grabbed Felix’s attention.

"Inchul-hyung! Oh, thank goodness! This place is so—" Felix exhaled in relief, desperate for his friend’s support in this overwhelming sea of unfamiliar faces. Instead, Inchul took hold of his arm, yanking him toward the very group of people he was desperately trying to evade.

"Hey everyone! This is Felix! He’s joining your game tonight!" Inchul announced, cheerfully oblivious to Felix's protests.

"No! I can’t! I don’t want to get drunk! My bo—my friends will worry!" Felix pleaded, anxiety flooding his chest.

"Don’t sweat it! We’ll get you home safe and sound! Just relax and have a good time! Don’t be a wuss," Inchul chimed, his usual demeanor infused with a boundless energy that felt foreign.

This is spiraling out of control, Felix thought, panic creeping in.

He fished his phone from his pocket, heart racing, but a sinking realization hit him—there was no signal.

"Want to give it a shot, Felix?" a stunning woman interjected, tossing a ping-pong ball between her fingers with mischievous intent.

"Go on! You shoot the ball, and if you land a cup, you drink! Just make sure to finish more cups than the other team," she explained, grinning.

"Sorry, I really can’t—" Felix started, but the chorus of cheers from the group overwhelmed his voice.

"Do it! Do it! Do it!" they chanted, a thunderous wave of pressure crashing over him.

With a resigned sigh, Felix found himself positioned at the far end of the table, holding the ping-pong ball like a lifeline. He threw it, praying it wouldn’t find its mark, but it landed with a plop.

Again.

"Ugh, I can’t drink anymore," he groaned, dread pooling in his stomach.

"Just do it so we win! I have money riding on this!" It was Inchul’s voice, urging him on.

Another throw.

"I feel sick," Felix muttered, the room beginning to wobble around him.

"Don’t be such a pussy!" shouted Daekyong from the sidelines.

Felix stumbled, the world tilting off-kilter as he fought to maintain his balance.

And again.

The cups began to accumulate in front of him, each one a daunting reminder of the mounting pressure.

Until, finally, he felt the world slip from his grasp, becoming tipsy—a sensation he hadn’t experienced in years. His resolve to avoid drinking dissolved amidst the relentless cheers and laughter, and reckless energy propelled him further into chaos. The strong urge to refuse was met with hands forcing the drink down his throat, making him choke and sputter.

He had only been truly drunk once before, and that was with his boyfriends during a celebratory night, surrounded by love and safety. But here, with cameras capturing every moment of his downfall, it felt not like celebration but a potential disaster waiting to be shared online.

Goodbye to my career, Felix thought, as the dark edges of despair began to cloud his vision.

—

Minho approached the door of their dorm bedroom with a sense of urgency, his knuckles rapping against the wood softly. “Yongbokkie, are you in there? You haven’t come down for dinner yet,” he called out, his voice laced with concern.

When silence enveloped him in response, a heavy sigh escaped his lips. “I’m sorry if I sounded harsh earlier. I let my emotions get the better of me. But you know I can’t stand talking to you that way. Please come down for dinner? You can’t go to sleep on an empty stomach,” he pleaded, his frustration mixing with worry.

The absence of a reply only deepened his unease. “Yongbokkie. Lee Yongbok.” Minho’s tone sharpened slightly as he called out repeatedly, each echoing shout amplifying the strange absence of the usually bubbly Felix.

After a moment of hesitation, Minho descended the stairs, his heart racing. He found Chan in the living room, casually scrolling through his phone. “Chan-hyung, do you have the key to our bedroom? Felix locked the door,” Minho explained, urgency spilling from his words.

Chan looked up, a frown etching his features. “You’re just going to barge in there?” he replied, his brow raised in doubt regarding Minho’s hasty decision.

Feeling the weight of the moment pressing on his shoulders, Minho asserted, “I don’t have a choice. I’m not going to force him to talk; I just need to see if he’s alright.”

Reluctantly, Chan agreed, and together they ascended the staircase, the sound of jingling keys echoing through the corridor. When they reached their bedroom, Chan inserted the key, and with a gentle turn, the door creaked open.

“Felix? Felix!” Chan called out, his voice tinged with an accent that thickened with worry. Panic clawed at his insides.

The sound of hurried footsteps filled the space as the other members rushed to their side, drawn in by Chan’s anxious tone. “Channie-hyung, what’s happened?” Seungmin questioned, peering into the dimly lit room, and his stomach sank as he noticed that the window was wide open.

The grim reality began to settle over them.

In the living room, the boys were now caught in a whirlwind of anxiety. Han and Hyunjin comforted the distraught Jeongin, whose tears flowed freely, a torrent of emotion spilling forth. They tenderly kissed his forehead and stroked his hair, trying to provide him solace amidst the chaos. Meanwhile, Changbin’s fingers danced over his phone screen, sending desperate texts and making frantic calls to Felix. What had started as a few concerned messages had rapidly escalated into an overwhelming barrage of notifications when the stillness stretched for nearly an hour.

Seungmin, steadfast in his determination, was now on a video call with Chan and Minho, who were driving through the streets, searching for any sign of their missing friend.

“We’ve checked everywhere,” Chan exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice as he pulled over to the side of the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He leaned forward, staring out into the distance, trying to conjure up more locations that might lead them to Felix.

“We’re running out of options,” Minho replied, his voice trembling, barely able to mask the rising tide of panic within him. “We have to inform our manager. Then we’ll call the police.” The intensity of the moment pressed upon them, a palpable fear intertwining their thoughts as they searched for their missing member.

—

Felix was grateful for his unusual ability to remain composed and level-headed, even when the alcohol coursing through his veins threatened to loosen his tongue. Unlike many others who would spill their secrets or unleash their inner thoughts in a tipsy haze, he had a knack for keeping his mouth shut and his thoughts rational. However, the pulsating atmosphere of the club around him was another matter entirely. The thumping bass reverberated through his body, making his stomach churn with an unsettling mixture of nausea and anxiety. A heavy ache throbbed at his temples, a sharp reminder of how far he had strayed from his usual self. In the dim light, blurred silhouettes danced wildly, but Felix couldn't focus on any of it; his mind felt like a muddled fog, refusing to clarify or align. Each moment spent there deepened his sense of dread, as he feared that this night could tarnish the carefully crafted image he had worked so hard to maintain.

However, amidst the swirling haze of his tipsy state, one realization stood out with crystal clarity: his boyfriends were undeniably right. He wished he had taken their words to heart, instead of letting his carefree mood lead him astray. As he swayed slightly, the warmth of the drinks coursing through him, Felix couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps he had let his instincts cloud his judgment.

Even in his tipsy state, Felix remained acutely aware of his surroundings, the vibrant colors and sounds swirling around him. He could still hear the distant laughter mingling with the soft strains of music, while the warm glow of the ambient lights illuminated the faces of those nearby. Each detail registered in his mind, even as a pleasant haze enveloped his thoughts, distorting reality just enough to add a dreamy quality to the evening.

“Can you guys just fucking stop already? It's clear enough that Felix isn't feeling well anymore. And Yeom! Stop forcing him to do things for your own satisfaction like the self-absorbed dick you are!” A woman in a leather jacket with shoulder-length hair yelled.

“What did you just say to me?” Yeom said angrily.

“What did you just say about Yeom?” Daekyong asked coldly.

Felix's head hurt, but he could see the scene happening through slightly blurry eyes.

Daekyong walked over to the woman, smacking her across the face, and continuing to kick at her legs and pull her hair. “Stop recording!” A bunch of people yelled, even Inchul.

“Don't you ever talk shit about Yeom if you want to live!” Daekyong screamed.

Daekyong was clearly drunk, maybe even high because of how he was laughing manically at what he was doing to the woman. And this could really ruin Spade's image if it had been recorded. Fortunately but also unfortunately, people still recorded it.

The woman took a nearby glass bottle and smashed it on Daekyong's head, before hastily running away from the club.

Felix stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing, unable to comprehend the chaotic scene that had just unfolded. Panic surged through him, and without thinking, he bolted towards the bathroom, his stomach twisting in knots. The door slammed behind him as he rushed into a stall, the unsettling image replaying in his mind, causing nausea to surge. The moment he was alone, he bent over the toilet, illness overwhelming him, and he heaved violently, his body wracked with heaves.

“Felix? Felix, are you okay?” The concerned voice pierced through his haze, but the sound felt distant.

Despair washed over him, amplifying the sickening sensation in the pit of his stomach. He hated feeling this way, so utterly vulnerable and alone. All he wanted was the comfort of his boyfriends, someone tender and reassuring to run their fingers through his hair, to pull him close and make everything feel alright again.

“What just happened? Why would Daekyong do that to her?” Felix's voice came out in a shaky slur, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. It didn’t seem right—none of it did. He glanced at his dead phone lying in his pocket, desperate for the reassurance of a message or a call. He could only imagine how worried his boyfriends must be, pacing or searching for him, concern etched across their faces.

Inchul’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, a small chuckle escaping from him. “Don't worry about it, Lixie, he was just being protective.”

Felix’s heart sank at the nickname. He wanted to snap back, to scold him for using words that made him crave his boyfriends even more fiercely. You don’t get to call me that right now, he thought, frustration mingling with the ache in his chest.

“I'm sure your friends would do the same thing too,” Inchul continued, his voice laced with a teasing warmth that made Felix's heart ache. But all he could focus on was the longing for comfort and safety, a desire that seemed so far out of reach in that moment of chaos.

My boyfriends wouldn't beat someone up mercilessly if someone called me out for the wrong things I've done.

“I can’t do this right now,” Felix said wearily, his voice barely above a whisper as he stumbled out of the cramped bathroom. He swayed slightly, his steps uneven, and nearly lost his balance the moment he reentered the lively main area of the club. The low hum of music contrasted sharply with the bright beams of phone flashlights that illuminated the scene, capturing every moment for the eager audience.

With a firm grip around Felix’s waist, Inchul steadied him, preventing a complete fall. “Whoa, slow down there, cutie,” he said, concern etched across his features as he watched Felix’s eyes drift.

Felix's words came out in a slurred jumble, laced with fatigue. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbled, his brow furrowing as he struggled to focus on the swirling lights and buzzing chatter that surrounded them.

"Is that so?" Inchul mocked, but Felix couldn't put his finger on the tone. The Spade member then placed Felix on a nearby leather couch that was a bit far from everyone, but they could be seen at any moment. Before Felix knew it, he was lying down, his position uncomfortable. "Just relax, maybe I can help you feel good," Inchul whispered in Felix's ear.

"What?—"

Before Felix could even fathom what Inchul had just said, he felt a cold hand going under his shirt and caressing his chest. Despite being drunk, Felix's instinct was to get away. He may be drunk, but his thoughts were sober and there was still that single ounce of consciousness left on his mind.

"No— No, don't touch me..." Felix begged through slurred speech. Inchul held Felix's wrists above the latter's head.

Felix wanted to cry. His hands were too tired to break his wrists off from Inchul's grip.

Please, anything but this. Minho, Chan, anyone, please help me. Felix begged in his thoughts as he felt hopeless, trying to squirm and fight his way out of this.

"Calm down, just relax. You'll love this," Inchul said, gripping Felix's wrists tightly. Felix then felt a hand going to his pants, undoing the button.

Felix's initial reaction was panic. "No! NO!" Felix screamed, kicking Inchul at his groinal area as hard as he could with all the remaining strength he had. The action was so abrupt that the button Inchul was trying to undo, just ripped apart from Felix's pants. The other people in the club heard the sudden scream, and their attention turned to Felix and Inchul.

Inchul let out a low groan, the sound filled with a mixture of frustration and intoxication. Felix, however, remained resolute, pushing himself up from his slouched position on the worn-out couch. “I told you not to touch me,” he spat through gritted teeth, anger simmering just beneath the surface, though his heart was aching with the urge to break down in tears. He had never felt so violated, a thick layer of disgust clinging to him like a second skin.

Inchul, undeterred, smirked as he advanced, a malicious glint in his eyes that sent a chill through Felix. “Yeah? And what are you gonna do if I don’t listen to you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery.

“Hey, Inchul, you’re drunk,” one of the club members intervened, stepping forward with a look of concern etched across his face. It was a small comfort, knowing that at least some people still held on to basic human decency. “This is way out of line. Leave him be.”

But Inchul brushed off the warning like a pesky fly, his attention laser-focused on Felix as he shoved him back against the couch, the fabric rough against Felix's skin.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted as loud alarms blared through the chaos of the club.

“Cops!” someone shouted, panic rising in the air like a thick fog, amplifying the tension in the room.

“Shit,” Inchul muttered.

Once the alarms got Inchul distracted enough to let go of Felix, the latter ran and stumbled his way across to the exit of the club. 'Relieved' was an understatement for what Felix was feeling now that he had gotten out of that suffocating place. He wanted to do everything at once, realizing what had just happened to him. He wanted to throw up, throw himself in a river to cleanse himself, and maybe just... collapse and never wake up.

“Officer! Officer, I need your help, please!” Felix pleaded, his voice trembling with desperation. His eyes darted around, filled with anxiety as he clutched his lifeless phone, the screen dark and unresponsive. The tension in the air was palpable, and he fought to contain his rising panic, desperately hoping the officer would understand the urgency of his situation.

“Sir? May I ask your name and your connection to this club and its illicit activities? I don't believe I've seen you around here before,” the officer stated, his voice authoritative as he signaled to the other officers to begin searching the club. The atmosphere was thick with tension, tainted by the suspicion that this establishment had been under scrutiny long before tonight.

“Lee Felix,” he stammered, his heart racing as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. “I’m not involved. I was just invited—I had no idea they were engaged in… illegal activities. Please, I just need to make a call, Officer,” he pleaded, struggling to articulate his thoughts while trying to mask the haze of drunkenness clouding his mind.

The officer, stumped with realization, raised his communication device to his mouth. “I've located him. Inform the team that we’ve found their missing friend.” The static crackled on the other end before a clipped 'Copy' came through, solidifying Felix's sense of dread. “Sir, would it be acceptable if we brought you in for a short while? We need to help you sober up properly for questioning,” the officer asserted, giving Felix no room for negotiation.

Frustration surged through Felix, hot and blaming, yet he felt trapped, unable to resist. The sharp click of the handcuffs encircling his wrists sent a jolt of pain through him, echoing memories of Inchul's unforgiving grip. It was no wonder they throbbed.

Silent tears slipped down Felix's cheeks as he sat in the back of the police car, the hum of the engine a dull reminder of the reality that loomed ahead. The city lights blurred past, indistinct and cold, as the weight of his predicament settled heavily on his shoulders.

—

Once Felix and the other officer stepped into the bustling station, a wave of anxiety washed over him. He was escorted to a desk where an officer sat, his face reflecting professionalism yet tinged with concern. As Felix settled into the chair, his gaze wandered, drawn to a woman at an adjacent desk who captured his attention entirely.

It was her—the brave soul who had stood up for him at the club, enduring a brutal assault in the process. A large, dark bruise marred her cheek, a painful testament to that night. Her hair hung out of place, strands falling into her eyes, adding to the distressing image. Felix's heart sank as he noticed a stark white bandage tightly wrapped around her hand, a reminder of the moment when she had smashed a glass bottle over Daekyong’s head, an impulsive act of protection that now had its consequences.

“Lee Felix? The call you wanted to make?” The officer’s voice broke through Felix’s turmoil, snapping him back to the present. He glanced up to see Officer Joon Park, the embroidered name on the uniform stark against the dark fabric, a prompt for him to gather his thoughts.

With trembling fingers, Felix picked up the receiver, his mind racing as he dialed the familiar number. Each ring felt like an eternity until the line crackled to life.

A brief moment of rustling followed, and then the voice he had been aching to hear pierced through the tension—a voice he feared he might never hear again after everything that had transpired.

“Officer Park, yes, we heard the news and we're on our way to the station now--”

“Minho-hyung…” Felix gasped, emotion overtaking him as he felt the weight of his fears lift, if only slightly. “Hyungie…”

“Yongbok? Yongbokkie!” The sheer relief in Minho's voice made Felix’s heart race.

“Lixie-hyung? Is he okay?” Jeongin's voice chimed in next, laced with worry and barely concealed tears, sending a painful twist through Felix's chest for causing them distress. Guilt pooled heavily in his heart as the shame of his predicament seeped into his thoughts.

“Felix, are you okay? Are you safe now?” Chan’s voice resonated through the receiver, the urgency in his tone grounding Felix amidst the chaos.

“I don’t know…” Felix sobbed, his breath hitching as he struggled to form words. It felt as if the air around him was thinning, choking him, and he couldn’t seem to release the flood of emotions that surged within.

“Shh, it's okay,” Chan soothed gently, his tone a calming balm. “We’re on our way, alright? We're here for you. We love you, Lixie.”

Just as the comfort of his words washed over him, the phone beeped sharply, signaling the end of the call. Felix's heart raced, filled with a mix of hope and fear, as he awaited his loved ones’ arrival, clinging desperately to the whisper of their unwavering support.

Felix pressed his teeth into his wounded lip, hoping to silence the urge to sob aloud, yet he remained oblivious to the woman observing him from the neighboring desk. The dim light flickered overhead, casting shadows that danced across the walls, adding to the tense atmosphere.

“Felix…” she began, her voice calm yet firm as she shifted in her chair, a sense of concern etching her features.

Startled, Felix lifted his gaze to meet hers, a wave of guilt washing over him, heavy and suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper, laced with shame.

“Why are you sorry?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she leaned forward, genuinely curious.

“If I hadn’t needed defending, you wouldn’t have—” Felix’s words faded into silence, a lump forming in his throat. The fear of vocalizing his thoughts kept him anchored in uncertainty. Despite the turmoil inside him, he was grateful she seemed to understand the unsaid.

“Listen, that wasn’t your fault,” she reassured him, her tone gentle yet steady. “And hey, if that hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be sitting here now, far from that dump,” she added, attempting to lighten the mood, an encouraging smile playing at her lips.

For a fleeting moment, Felix felt a spark of hope, a desire to chuckle or at least muster a smile. But the heaviness of the recent events pressed down on him like an anchor, rendering him unable to express any semblance of joy.

“Do you know each other, Ms. Moon?” Officer Park interjected, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

“He doesn’t really know me, but Felix was also the reason I chose to file a report against Spade and the other members of the Clover Club,” Ms. Moon clarified, her voice steady and resolute.

“I thought you were the only victim in tonight’s incidents,” Officer Park remarked, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“The CCTV footage says otherwise,” Ms. Moon replied, her finger gesturing towards the monitor on her desk. The flat screen flickered to life as Officer Park exchanged a knowing glance with his partner, who nodded solemnly in agreement.

With purposeful strides, Officer Park moved to join his colleague, both of them now fixated on the large monitor displaying the day’s events at the Clover Club. The raw footage played out before them, capturing the chaotic beer pong games and the unsettling incident involving Inchul, painting a vivid, disturbing picture of the night’s unraveling.

“This is a crime on display,” Officer Park commented, shaken up by what he was seeing.

After watching what happened, Officer Park pulled out a folder, a fill-up form to press charges against someone, and he wrote in printed letters the words 'SEXUAL ASSAULT’ in parentheses, 'Attempted Rape.' Followed by the criminal's name, Cho Inchul. Then, he clipped a printed photo of Felix, the one he got from the boy when he got his ID, on the top left corner of the paper.

Felix sat motionless in his chair, his heart racing as he overheard Officer Park organizing a file—his file. He stared blankly at the floor, his mind clouded with a haze that was only partially due to the drinks he had consumed. The memories flooded back, unbidden and sharp, even without needing to watch any footage. Each recollection twisted in his gut, a nauseating reminder of the choices he couldn't take back. To add to his discomfort, he felt the waistband of his pants slipping, a tangible sign of his disarray.

As a thick wave of guilt washed over him, he couldn’t shake the feeling of shame for ignoring his boyfriends’ concerns. They were never controlling; rather, they were fiercely protective of him—something he had foolishly overlooked. The truth gnawed at him: Spade and the others were truly terrible people. Yet, despite their flaws, he always clung to the flickering hope of their redeeming qualities. Why did he persist in searching for the good in them when it only brought him more pain?

Disgusting. Sick.

Suddenly, the heavy doors of the station burst open, and seven men strode in with an air of authority.

"We're here for Lee Felix," Felix heard Chan's stern voice resonate as he addressed the guards. Panic gripped Felix, freezing him in place, his heart racing with an urge to cry. Yet, he stifled it, grappling with the realization that he had no right to break down in tears over his own predicament.

"Right this way, sir," one of the guards said, motioning for them to approach. Felix felt a wave of protective energy emanating from his boyfriends, a silent but palpable shield of support around him.

"Yongbok-ah," Minho called out, breaking through the tense atmosphere to be the first to close the distance to Felix. The older man knelt before him, tenderly lifting Felix’s chin with gentle fingers to inspect his face. Minho's eyes widened in alarm as he noticed the split and swollen lip, a dark bruise forming around it. His gaze traveled downward, and the sight of Felix’s wrists—a stark shade of angry red from the tight handcuffs—sent a surge of possessive anger through him.

"Take off the handcuffs; his wrists are bruised," Chan commanded Officer Park, his voice firm and unwavering as he too surveyed the damage.

“Oh, I apologize, sir,” Officer Park responded, hurriedly removing the restraints. “We only brought him in for questioning, but it’s been confirmed he didn’t commit any crimes tonight,” he said, attempting to soothe the tension in the air.

“Lino-hyung, what’s wrong?” Han asked, noticing the skeptical furrow in Minho’s brow; it was clear the older man had spotted something unsettling.

Felix shifted uncomfortably as Minho’s vigilant gaze fell to the ripped button on his jeans, a small detail that spoke volumes.

Minho inhaled sharply, his eyes closing in realization. The moment hung heavily in the air, and Felix understood what had caught Minho’s attention. When Minho instinctively pulled down Felix’s sweatshirt, attempting to cover the disheveled state of his pants, Felix felt his heart race with a mixture of shock and guilt. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and Felix quickly looked away, heat flooding his cheeks.

“Did anything happen, Yongbokkie? Has something been done to you?” Minho’s voice was low and soothing, laced with concern. Felix felt the weight of his boyfriend’s words, a deep understanding passing between them. It was a gentle inquiry wrapped in a protective tension that made Felix's resolve waver. Minho knew. He sensed the turmoil lingering just beneath the surface, and in that moment, Felix knew he could no longer suppress the tears that threatened to spill over.

"Done to him?" Chan's voice was sharp, a blend of disbelief and concern.

"Uh—Uhm, sirs, if you would allow me a moment." The words stumbled out of another officer, Shin Suho, as he approached them, his presence momentarily lighting up the room. "I could show you some surveillance footage of what happened to Mr. Lee tonight. He's in a troubled state right now, quite shaken up, actually, when I took him here. He might not feel comfortable discussing the events of this evening."

Changbin turned to Felix, his face a mask of empathy. "Felix, is that okay?" he asked softly, concern etched in his features.

Felix hesitated, the turmoil within him palpable. He dreaded the idea of his boyfriends witnessing him in such a vulnerable state; the thought of them blaming themselves for what had transpired weighed heavily on his heart. Instead of a definitive answer, he merely let out a sound, a soft, broken whimper rather than the hum he was aiming to give.

"Verbal responses, baby," Minho prompted gently, still kneeling in front of Felix. He held Felix's hands tenderly, his thumb moving in soothing circles over the delicate skin, trying to provide comfort through the touch.

After a moment of swallowing hard, Felix managed to voice, "Yes," but it came out so quietly, laden with apprehension.

"This way," Officer Min instructed, guiding them toward the next desk with a sense of urgency.

Minho didn't need to accompany the rest of the members to watch the footage to piece together what had happened. His heart sank as he noticed the missing button on Felix's pants—a stark reminder of the violence that had befallen him. A glance at the desk reinforced his fears, revealing a folder labeled with Felix's name. As tears began to pool in his boyfriend's eyes, Minho's instinct was to wipe them away, but he restrained himself, knowing that any sudden movement might be too overwhelming for Felix after the trauma he had just experienced.

Meanwhile, the other members huddled around the monitor, their expressions shifting from concern to horror as the footage played out before them. An unsettling tension filled the air, and mutters of distress escaped their lips, barely contained.

"I can't watch this," Jeongin gasped, his breathing growing erratic as he paced away from the screen, the weight of what he had witnessed settling heavily in his stomach.

Han hunched over, clearly feeling overwhelmed. His fingers ran frantically through his tousled hair, a nervous habit that mirrored the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Low curses spilled from his lips, barely audible but heavy with emotion. Across from him, Chan resisted the swell of anger rising within, his eyes squeezed shut as he gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. Each breath he took was a silent struggle against the turmoil raging inside.

Seungmin, usually the epitome of emotional resilience, found himself on the brink of tears. The corners of his eyes glistened as he bounced on his feet, glancing upward at the ceiling—a familiar ritual whenever he felt overwhelmed. His heartbeat quickened, the effort to hold back his emotions becoming an almost tangible weight on his chest. Changbin, unable to contain his fury any longer, slammed his fist down on the desk with a resounding thud, the sound echoing like a clap of thunder in the tense room. He began to pace back and forth, each step fueled by a tempest of anger directed at Inchul, at Spade, at the club members, and even at himself.

Hyunjin's breath caught in his throat, a gasp of shock escaping him before he could rein it in. The feelings of guilt and fear were almost suffocating, as if the reality of the moment could physically manifest. His jaw tightened, struggling against the instinct to clench it in response to the overwhelming despair saturating the room. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, but his heart ached for Felix—his teammate, his boyfriend, the one who had always tried to protect everyone despite others thinking of him as ‘weak’, now trapped in something far darker than any of them had anticipated. And yet, all he wanted to do was run to him in that footage, to shield him from whatever else was about to happen.

Minho, although he had not witnessed the unfolding events, felt the weight of the despair settle over the group like a heavy fog, each member trapped in their own cycle of anxiety and hopelessness. He stayed kneeling in front of Felix, steady, unshakable. But beneath his calm exterior, he felt the weight of the situation crushing him, pressing down on him like a vice. He hadn’t wanted this for Felix. He had warned him, he had tried to steer him away from Spade. And now, here they were, in the police station, with the horrifying truth unraveling before them.

Felix, as much as he wanted to hide from the footage, couldn’t tear himself away. He felt as though the room was suffocating him, the quiet murmurs of the others in the background, the soft buzz of the video playing—it all felt like a blur. His chest was tight with shame, and though Minho was right beside him, his presence steady and grounding, Felix felt alone in the room. Alone with his mistakes, alone with his guilt.

Minho placed a hand on Felix’s shoulder, his voice a low, comforting murmur. “It wasn’t your fault, Felix. You don’t have to carry this by yourself anymore. We’re here.” His words weren’t just a promise—they were a lifeline. But Felix couldn’t respond. Not yet.

As the video finished, the room seemed to shrink. Felix’s gaze was cast downward, eyes unfocused, still struggling to process everything. It was like hearing a distant echo of his own pain, but somehow, seeing it all play out made it feel more real. More final. The police officer was speaking, but the words were lost on him. He barely registered the sound of their voices as they mentioned pursuing charges against Spade.

“We’ve saved the footage. Spade’s group will be taken into custody. They’ll be facing charges, including manipulation, physical and sexual assault, and other illegal doings we can’t name all. We’ll make sure they answer for everything.”

Felix’s heart clenched at the thought of Spade’s members—those people who had used him for their own gain. But there was no anger in his chest, only a quiet sense of justice. They would face the consequences for what they had done. But for now, Felix could focus on what truly mattered—the people who loved him.

The members were all around him now, gathered near the door, but each one remained a step back, waiting, giving Felix the space he needed. It was Chan who spoke first, his voice steady and filled with a quiet determination. “We’re going to make sure they don’t hurt you again. Spade will answer for what they did.”

But Felix felt a knot twist in his stomach. He didn’t want revenge. He didn’t want to keep rehashing the event. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted the pain to stop. And yet, the reality of it all kept rushing back at him, each breath harder to take than the last.

Minho gently took Felix’s arm, guiding him away from the others and out of the station. The cold air hit them as they stepped outside, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat of the building. The city felt distant, as if the life outside the walls had no meaning. But as Felix stumbled slightly, Minho’s grip remained firm, supportive. The others followed, and despite the cold, Felix could feel their warmth surround him.

They reached a quiet corner just outside the station. The others stood close, but no one spoke immediately. There was no need. Felix could feel the weight of their presence, the care in the air.

Changbin stood next to Felix, his jaw clenched. His usual bravado was nowhere to be found. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Instead, his hand found Felix’s shoulder, and he gave it a small, almost imperceptible squeeze. It wasn’t for show, and it wasn’t about comforting him with words. Changbin understood the need for quiet moments, for physical reassurance. His touch was a grounding force—simple, but full of the support Felix needed in this moment.

Felix looked up at Changbin, and for the first time, the tears that had been threatening to spill over finally did. They weren’t tears of despair—just the kind of release that came with realizing that it was okay to be vulnerable, okay to feel the weight of the world. Changbin didn’t flinch or pull back, simply standing there beside him, allowing Felix the space to express what he couldn’t say.

Jeongin, who had been quiet up until this point, stepped closer to Felix, his eyes soft with empathy. He didn’t know exactly what to say, but he knew Felix needed him to be there. So, without speaking, he wrapped his arms around Felix in a gentle, yet protective hug. It wasn’t one of those big, sweeping embraces that felt like a dramatic gesture. It was simple, natural, despite the fact the older was always the one who hugged him first. Just Jeongin, letting Felix know that he was safe in his arms.

Felix didn’t pull away. Instead, he let himself melt into the comfort of Jeongin’s embrace just as Jeongin did with his hugs all the time, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on Jeongin’s back. The younger member didn’t say a word, but Felix could feel the steady pulse of Jeongin’s heart against his cheek, the warmth radiating from him like a shield.

Han, ever the sensitive and expressive one, couldn’t stand seeing Felix like this. He wasn’t sure what to do at first, but after a few long moments of just standing there, he gently cupped Felix’s face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Felix,” he whispered, his voice cracking, “you didn’t deserve any of this. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Felix’s gaze met Han’s, and the younger man’s eyes were filled with sincerity, sadness, and guilt. Han’s heart ached, not just for what Felix had gone through, but for how little they had been able to protect him from it. But there was no shame in this moment—only a shared understanding. Han’s hand moved to Felix’s, his fingers intertwining with Felix’s, offering an unspoken vow that they would face this together.

The others—Bang Chan, Hyunjin, and Seungmin—stood silently around them, each giving Felix a moment to gather himself. They didn’t need to say much more. Their presence alone was enough. Each of them had their own way of offering support. Chan stood off to the side, his eyes focused on Felix, but his expression was full of quiet pride—pride in how strong Felix was, in how far he had come, even through all this pain. Hyunjin occasionally glanced at Felix, his gaze filled with guilt, but mostly with the understanding that now wasn’t the time for apologies. Now was the time for healing. Seungmin’s expression was unreadable at first, but as Felix looked over, Seungmin gave him a small nod, an unspoken promise that he was there.

Felix didn’t know how long they stood there. Time seemed to slow, stretching on for hours. His mind was still reeling from the police station, from the footage, from everything that had happened. But in the quiet moments, surrounded by his members, by his boyfriends, Felix finally allowed himself to feel the comfort, to feel that it was okay to let the weight of everything slip for just a moment.

Minho pressed his lips to the top of Felix’s head, the warmth of his breath brushing against Felix’s hair. “We’re with you,” Minho said again, this time softer, but no less firm. “You’re not alone in this. You’re loved. And you’re enough.”

Felix closed his eyes, allowing the truth of those words to sink in. Slowly, the heaviness that had weighed him down for so long began to lift. There was no immediate fix. The road ahead would be long, and painful, and uncertain. But for the first time, Felix felt like he didn’t have to walk it alone.

The cold, sterile walls of the police station were nothing like the warmth of the home Felix had with his boys.

Felix pushed through the front door of the dorm, his chest tight and his head pounding with exhaustion. The familiar scent of home offered a faint sense of solace, but the weight of the evening clung to him like a suffocating blanket. He couldn’t bring himself to look at any of the others as he walked in; their concerned glances burned against his skin. His heart screamed for space, for solitude, even as it yearned for comfort he couldn’t articulate.

Without a word, Felix dashed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The silence in the room felt deafening, interrupted only by the rush of his unsteady hands turning on the faucet. Water began pouring into the bathtub, steam curling in the air. Felix yanked his shirt over his head and tore the rest of his clothes away with desperate, shaky fingers. Each piece that fell to the floor felt like another layer of shame and disgust being peeled away, though it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. His tear-streaked face was barely recognizable; his hollow eyes looked more like a stranger’s than his own. The bruises on his wrists stood out like accusations, glaring back at him. He clenched his jaw and turned away, stepping into the bath without waiting for it to fill completely.

The water was scalding, but Felix welcomed the pain. He scrubbed at his arms, his chest, every inch of his skin, as if he could erase the memory of their hands. His breath hitched, and tears blurred his vision as he rubbed harder, until his skin turned red and raw. He gripped the sponge so tightly his knuckles turned white, but no matter how much he tried to cleanse himself, he still felt filthy. Broken.

The door handle jiggled, followed by a soft knock. Felix froze, his heart pounding.

“Lixie?” Hyunjin’s voice was gentle but tinged with worry. “Can I come in?”

Felix hesitated, his tears falling silently into the water. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. But the loneliness—the overwhelming, crushing loneliness—was worse.

“It’s unlocked,” he croaked, his voice barely audible.

The door opened slowly, and Hyunjin stepped inside, his usual graceful demeanor replaced by cautious uncertainty. His eyes immediately landed on Felix, curled up in the tub, his knees drawn to his chest. Hyunjin’s heart ached at the sight.

“Felix,” he said softly, kneeling beside the tub. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m here, okay?”

Felix shook his head, his tears spilling over faster now. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” he choked out. “I can still feel them. His hands, their…” His voice broke, and he buried his face in his hands. “I just want it to go away. I can’t… I can’t do it alone.”

Felix hesitated, his lips trembling, before he finally looked up at Hyunjin with tear-filled eyes. “Can you hold me?” he whispered, his voice cracking with the weight of his vulnerability.

Hyunjin’s heart clenched, and he didn’t waste another second. He reached into the tub, wrapping his arms around Felix’s trembling form. The water soaked his sleeves, and soap clung to his skin, but he didn’t care. He pressed Felix against his chest, one hand gently cradling the back of his head, the other stroking his damp hair.

“You’re safe now,” Hyunjin murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Felix sobbed into Hyunjin’s shoulder, his hands clutching at the fabric of Hyunjin’s shirt as if letting go would shatter him completely. Hyunjin held him tighter, rocking him gently as tears pricked his own eyes.

After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened again, and Seungmin stepped inside, carrying a small bundle of cloth. His expression was calm but firm, his eyes scanning Felix’s tear-streaked face and Hyunjin’s waterlogged state.

“I brought ice for his wrists,” Seungmin said softly, kneeling on the other side of the tub. He unwrapped the cloth to reveal small pieces of ice and gently took one of Felix’s hands.

“This will help with the bruising,” he explained, his touch careful and precise as he pressed the cool cloth against Felix’s swollen skin. Felix flinched at first but soon relaxed, the icy sensation providing a brief reprieve from the burning in his chest.

“Thank you,” Felix whispered hoarsely, glancing between Seungmin and Hyunjin. “For not… for not leaving me alone.”

“You’ll never be alone,” Hyunjin said firmly, brushing a tear from Felix’s cheek. “Not with us.”

Felix hesitated before voicing the fear that had been gnawing at him. “What if… what if the videos come out?” he asked, his voice trembling. “What if everyone finds out? What if I ruin everything for us?”

Seungmin paused, meeting Felix’s gaze with unwavering sincerity. “You didn’t ruin anything, Felix. You’re the victim here. If anyone dares to think otherwise, then they’re the problem, not you.”

Hyunjin nodded, his grip on Felix tightening protectively. “We’ll handle whatever comes, together. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Felix’s lips quivered as fresh tears spilled over. For the first time that night, the crushing weight on his chest felt slightly lighter. He didn’t have the strength to say more, but the way he leaned into Hyunjin’s embrace said enough.

When Felix finally felt steady enough to finish bathing, Hyunjin and Seungmin gave him one last reassuring squeeze before stepping out. Felix rinsed off the soap and drained the water, wrapping himself in a towel as a soft knock came from the door.

“Lixie?” Han’s voice called gently. “I left some clothes for you by the door. Jeongin made you some pineapple juice to help with the dizziness.”

Felix cracked the door open, his damp hair sticking to his face. Han smiled softly, holding out the folded clothes. Felix accepted them with a small nod. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Take your time,” Han said before stepping away to give him privacy.

After dressing in the soft, oversized clothes Han had picked out, Felix padded out of the bathroom, the faint smell of pineapple wafting through the air. In the dining area, Jeongin was waiting with a glass of cold juice, his face lighting up when he saw Felix, despite the puffiness from crying earlier.

“Come sit,” Jeongin said warmly, pulling out a chair. “This should help.”

Felix slid into the seat, his movements slow and tentative. Seungmin and Han were nearby, cleaning up the remnants of the ice, while Hyunjin disappeared toward his bedroom, likely to change out of his soaked clothes.

As Felix sipped the juice, the cool, tangy flavor grounding him, Changbin entered the dining area. Han straightened up and immediately asked, “How was it? Talking to JYP?”

Changbin glanced at Felix before answering. “Chan-hyung said that we should all get ready for bed. We’ve had a long night.”

Felix’s stomach churned at the words, suspecting Changbin was sugarcoating the truth for his sake. The others seemed to catch on, and one by one, they found reasons to leave the room, leaving Changbin alone with Felix.

Felix focused on the juice, trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat. But the weight of the night pressed down on him, and tears began to blur his vision. He took a shaky sip, his hand trembling, and a quiet sob escaped.

“Hey, careful,” Changbin said gently, moving closer. “You’ll choke if you drink while crying.” His tone was full of concern, not chastisement.

Felix’s shoulders shook as he set the glass down, his face crumpling. “I’ve ruined it all for us, haven’t I?” he sobbed, burying his face in his hands. “I’ve ruined everything.”

Changbin’s heart broke at the sight. He pulled Felix into a hug, his arms steady and strong. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he said firmly. “JYP’s working on pressing charges against those bastards, and we’re putting out an official statement. We’re even getting some rest time—we’ve earned it.”

Felix sniffled, his sobs quieting slightly as Changbin’s words sank in. “Rest time?” he repeated, his voice small.

“Yes. We’ve had multiple comebacks this year. We deserve a break, and so do you,” Changbin said, rubbing soothing circles on Felix’s back. “Now, drink your juice. It’ll help.”

Felix picked up the glass again, sipping slowly. Changbin didn’t let go, his presence a steady anchor as Felix drank. The warmth of his hug and the cool sweetness of the juice began to ease the ache in Felix’s chest.

—

He walked in his room that he ran away from and he sat down on his bed, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the sides of it, his head down. The sound of muffled voices from outside the room barely registered—his mind was foggy, still trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

Minho sat beside him. His presence was a calming force, the steady, unwavering comfort that Felix needed. The older man had been with him every step of the way—through the police questioning, through the agonizing wait as the footage from the party was reviewed.

Felix turned his body towards Minho, leaning his forehead on the older’s shoulder.

“Felix, you’re okay,” Minho’s voice was soft but firm, like the anchor Felix desperately needed to hold onto. “I’m here. We’re all here.”

Felix nodded slightly, feeling the tears prickle at the corner of his eyes but too tired to let them fall. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. Relief, maybe? Guilt? Shame? It all mixed together, a tangled knot in his chest. He hadn’t been ready for this—the way Spade had manipulated him, used his insecurities against him. He had wanted to prove something—to everyone, to himself. That he wasn’t weak, that he could handle everything. But now, sitting here, he felt more fragile than ever.

From the other side of the room, Chan’s voice broke through the silence, a quiet but urgent tone, speaking with someone on the phone. Felix couldn’t hear the exact words, but he knew it was the legal team, the team that would ensure Spade paid for what they had done. Felix wanted them to. He wanted them to face the consequences for manipulating him, for putting him in that position. But a part of him still wasn’t sure if he deserved to fight for justice. Was it his fault for not listening to the people who cared about him?

Felix flinched when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder—Seungmin’s.

“You’re not alone,” Seungmin said, his voice steady. “None of us are leaving you. We’ll make sure you’re safe. You don’t need to be strong for us right now. Just be yourself. We’ll take care of the rest.”

I.N, who had been quietly sitting next to Chan, looked up at Felix, his expression soft but full of concern. “We’ll get through this together. No one’s going anywhere.”

Felix closed his eyes, overwhelmed by their kindness. He could feel the weight of their gazes, all of them watching him with nothing but love and empathy. They were here for him, standing by him when the world felt like it had turned its back. His thoughts drifted briefly to Spade—the group that had taken advantage of his vulnerabilities, twisting them into something dark and ugly. They would face justice. He would make sure of that. But right now, all he could focus on was the warmth surrounding him—his family. His real family.

Minho leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “Felix, look at me.”

When Felix opened his eyes, he found Minho’s gaze unwavering, a quiet intensity behind it. The older man’s hand found its way to his, gently cupping it.

“You are not weak,” Minho said, his voice resolute. “You are strong for standing up for yourself now. You’re strong for letting us help you. I’ve seen you be strong in ways that go beyond just physical strength. You’ve always been strong in your heart, Felix. That’s what matters.”

Felix swallowed hard, the knot in his throat tightening. He wasn’t sure if he could believe it. He had been so afraid that his sensitivity made him less than the others. But as he looked at Minho—at Chan, at Seungmin, at I.N—he realized that maybe it was okay to feel everything. To not hide those parts of himself that others had tried to make him feel ashamed of.

“I thought... I thought you all would think I was weak for feeling the way I do,” Felix whispered, his voice barely audible. “I thought you’d think I was too much... too sensitive.”

Chan, who had finished his call, stepped closer. “Felix,” he said gently, kneeling down in front of him. “You are never too much. You’re not too sensitive. You’re allowed to feel, and you’re allowed to be who you are. We’ve never seen you as weak. We love you for everything you are—sensitive, strong, passionate. All of it. And we’ll never, ever make you feel like you have to change who you are for anyone, not even us.”

Felix could feel the tears welling up now, the floodgates that had been holding everything back finally cracking open. But this time, he didn’t feel ashamed of them. He felt safe. He felt understood.

“We’re here,” Hyunjin added softly, moving beside him and placing a hand on his other shoulder. “You’ve been through something horrible, but you’re not alone. You have us.”

Han, standing behind, nodded. “And we’ll keep fighting with you. We’ll make sure Spade gets what they deserve for what they did to you. No one gets to treat you like that.”

Felix exhaled shakily, his body trembling as the weight of their words settled in. The validation, the reassurance—it was like a balm to his soul. He had been so scared to be vulnerable, so terrified of being seen as weak in the eyes of those he loved. But they didn’t think he was weak. They thought he was strong. And maybe—just maybe—he could start believing that too.

“I... I don’t know what I would do without you,” Felix whispered, his voice breaking.

“You’ll never have to know,” Minho said, squeezing his hand.

The silence that followed wasn’t one of emptiness. It was filled with the quiet comfort of being surrounded by people who cared. And in that moment, Felix knew that healing wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t going to happen overnight. But with his members by his side, he wasn’t alone. They would help him every step of the way.

“We’ll make sure you’re safe,” Chan said firmly, his voice full of conviction. “No one will hurt you again, Felix. We promise.”

Felix nodded, a shaky breath escaping his lips. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to believe in the promise of a better tomorrow.

Then, he looked up slowly at Chan, his voice barely above a whisper. “What happens now?”

Chan looked at him with a gentle yet resolute expression. “Now, we focus on you, Felix. We’ll be there for every step of the legal process, but right now, we will take care of you. No matter what happens with Spade, you’re not alone. We’re your boyfriends, and we’re a team. That doesn’t change.”

Felix nodded, grateful for the calm certainty in Chan’s words. He still didn’t know what the road ahead would look like. But the fear that had gripped him since the night of the party was slowly loosening its hold. He didn’t have to do this alone. And that realization made all the difference.

Minho’s thumb gently rubbed the back of Felix’s hand, grounding him in the moment. “Felix,” Minho said softly, “can we talk for a second? Alone?”

Felix glanced around at the others, who all gave him encouraging nods. They understood. There were things Minho needed to say—things Felix needed to hear, things that weren’t meant for anyone else.

“Of course,” Felix murmured, letting go of the reassuring grip of his other members’ hands as Minho helped him stand.

They walked out of the small room and into a quieter corridor. The weight of the building tension began to feel more manageable as the door clicked shut behind them. The silence here was almost comforting in its stillness. Minho led him to a seat, sitting down beside him.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Felix could feel the heaviness in the air—like they were both holding their breath, unsure of what to say first.

Finally, Minho broke the silence. His voice was low but steady. “Yongbok, I want you to listen to me, okay?”

Felix nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to expect.

“You’ve always been the kind of person who feels everything deeply,” Minho began, eyes fixed on Felix’s face, “and that’s something I’ve always admired about you. You’re not afraid to be vulnerable, even when it’s hard. That’s something most people can’t do, Felix. They build walls, hide behind their strength, but not you. And maybe, for a long time, you felt like that made you weak. Like you had to hide it from the world, from us. But you’re not weak. Not by a long shot. And anyone who tells you that... anyone who tries to make you feel like you are? They don’t understand you.”

Felix swallowed, the lump in his throat growing again. He wanted to argue. To say he wasn’t strong, that he’d let himself be manipulated, that he had fallen into a trap. But Minho’s gaze held him in place. There was no room for self-doubt here.

“Felix,” Minho continued, his voice firm, “I’m so sorry for not pushing harder when I saw how toxic Spade was. I should’ve fought harder to protect you. I should’ve made you listen when we all warned you about them. I should’ve seen how much they were taking advantage of you. But I want you to know this... you didn’t do anything wrong. You were manipulated, you were taken advantage of, and you trusted the wrong people. But that doesn’t mean you’re weak. That doesn’t mean you’re less than any of us. It just means you trusted someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Felix felt the tears threatening again, but he wasn’t ready to let them fall just yet. Not until he had heard what Minho had to say. His heart ached at the weight of Minho’s words—the apology, the regret—but also the unwavering support.

Minho took a deep breath, as if to steady himself.
“You’re allowed to feel everything you’re feeling right now, Felix. We’re all here for you. But please, don’t ever think that your feelings make you weak. You’re stronger because you feel so much. That’s what makes you... you. And nothing will ever change that.”

Felix blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the flood of emotion. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words were stuck in his throat. Instead, he let himself lean into Minho, the older man’s arms wrapping around him immediately, pulling him close in a tight embrace.

For the first time since everything had happened, Felix allowed himself to cry. It wasn’t a breakdown, not exactly. But it was the release of all the fear, the guilt, and the pain he’d been carrying for so long. Minho’s presence was a lifeline, grounding him, and for the first time, he wasn’t ashamed of the tears.

“It’s okay,” Minho murmured, gently rocking him. “I’m here. We all are.”

Minutes passed, the sound of Felix’s quiet sobs filling the space between them. Minho didn’t rush him. He simply held him, offering comfort in the way only he could. Felix felt safe in his arms, as if everything—as in, everything—would be okay. One day at a time.

Eventually, Felix pulled back slightly, wiping at his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that.”

Minho smiled softly, brushing a few stray hairs from Felix’s forehead. “You never have to thank me for that, Yongbokkie. You never have to thank me for loving you. That’s what we do.”

Felix gave a shaky nod, feeling the strength of Minho’s words settle into his chest.

When they returned to the others, they found the room had quieted. Everyone was waiting, though not in an impatient way. They simply gave Felix the space he needed—space to breathe, to process, to heal. The police had finished their investigation, and the officers who had been handling the case were about to depart for the night, though they assured the group that they would continue working on the case against Spade.

Felix’s gaze met each of his members, their eyes full of understanding, of reassurance. It felt like they were all silently agreeing on the same thing—that tonight, they would not leave him to carry this alone.

Chan stepped forward first, offering Felix a small but meaningful smile. “You did nothing wrong, Felix. You’ve always been enough. You’ll never be anything but enough to us.”

Felix’s heart swelled at the weight of their words, and this time, the tears that came were not from pain, but from gratitude. From love. The healing process was just beginning, and he knew it would take time. There would be days when the weight of everything felt too much to bear. But he also knew he wasn’t alone anymore. He had his boyfriends, and they would never let him go.

“We’re here for you, no matter what,” Hyunjin added quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.

Felix looked at all of them—his boyfriends, his closest friends, his family—and felt something shift inside of him. For the first time, he didn’t feel the need to apologize for being who he was. He wasn’t too sensitive. He wasn’t too much. He was just Felix—none of that ‘F for Fragile’ whatsoever—and that was enough.

They all huddled together in one cramped room, the faint light of dawn creeping through the curtain edges, hinting at the long day ahead. Tomorrow would bring the weight of legal action—a daunting reality that threatened to overshadow their plans for a much-anticipated comeback. The thought of having to release an official statement and, in the worst-case scenario, face an indefinite hiatus loomed heavily over them. Yet, in that fragile moment just before morning broke, their singular focus remained on one thing: staying by Felix's side, providing him comfort and solace.

In the corner of the room, a small twin-sized bed was the epicenter of this shared refuge. Chan sat cross-legged on the edge, his posture straight as he leaned back against the wall. On his legs, Felix’s head rested heavily, his features still puffy and inflamed from tears shed earlier. But despite the lingering signs of distress, the rhythmic rise and fall of Felix’s chest brought a sense of tranquility to the room. To Felix's right, Han nestled in close, his head resting against Felix's shoulder, a protective arm wrapped securely around his waist, drawing him in even closer.

On Chan’s left thigh, Hyunjin seemed to be deeply asleep, his fingertips gently entwined in Felix’s soft, golden locks, each strand glistening in the dim light. Lying atop Hyunjin’s legs, Jeongin had found his own place of comfort, his head resting soundly on Hyunjin’s thighs. He, too, had draped an arm over Felix's stomach, just above where Han held him, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety around Felix.

Beside Chan, Minho sat in a relaxed manner, his head leaning sleepily against Chan’s shoulder, the closeness of their bond evident in the way they shared the space. On the floor, Changbin found his spot, stretched out with one arm draped across Felix’s bed and the other holding Felix’s hand—his grip gentle yet reassuring.

Seungmin stood quietly, observing the scene before him. His boyfriends were intertwined, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The sight warmed his heart, offering a moment of peace amidst the turmoil outside their fragile sanctuary. With a tender sigh as he reassured himself that they were now together, he stepped closer, silencing the room by turning off the light. He lay down across Minho’s legs, stretching out to reach for Felix’s other hand, mirroring Changbin’s grasp.

The soft sound of snores filled the air, mingling with the hum of the air conditioner, creating a cozy symphony of warmth and love.

The days ahead promised to be challenging, but in that moment, they drew strength from one another. Together, they could face anything that came their way.