Chapter Text
You don't see stars here, they're just city lights
I think back to where you live and how you can see the entire sky
It’ s occasional, sometimes, I’ll see the moon
And I’ll think of you
On the rare free nights off, when the team is too tired to get together, Felix likes to slip away to the park about a twenty-minute walk from the building. There’s a small bench in the centre, as secluded as you can get in the bustling city of Seoul. He loves this city, he really does, but there are times when he feels an ache in his chest too big to sit in the tiny space of the dorm. Some people call it homesickness, and Felix thinks it’s half-true. Of course he misses Australia, but there is a lingering sadness that won’t be cured with returning to his birth country.
The moon is out tonight, he notices. It’s smaller in Seoul than in the clear skies of Australia, but the beauty is still of the same potency. He read somewhere that it drifts a bit from Earth each year. At that thought, a face materialises in his head, one he has been trying his best not to dwell on. But the analogy of the moon is fitting, and in the shelter of the night, he allows himself to forget the expectations of idol-hood and just feel.
There’s a moment from last week that has taken residence in his mind. And if he allows this memory to steep, this amorphous shape twists itself into a body, into a person, into Hyunjin.
You'll nervously laugh
When we hug, 'cause we don't hug, we never used to do that
We don't do that
Since about four months ago, he has noticed an absence of a certain body, the silence of one particular chat, the presence of Hyunjin in general. Felix tells himself it’s just that they’ve been busy, and the timing just has not worked out, and they have to focus on themselves sometimes. But if he is honest, he misses him, misses their easy companionship, his soothing presence, their late-night drives.
He can’t recall what exactly made him call about two weeks ago, but suddenly, as if his body has remembered steps his mind has long forgotten, Hyunjin’s contact has been pressed, and Felix feels more nervous than at any show he’s performed at all month.
“Lix?” Hyunjin’s voice floods his ear. A knot in Felix’s chest unravels.
“Hi Hyune. Seungmin is busy tonight, so I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie? We could watch that anime you keep spamming Bubble about.” Felix taps his leg nervously as he waits for Hyunjin’s response.
“Of course. Give me a few minutes to drive over, ok?” They hang up, and Felix breathes a slow sigh of relief. He hopes there really is nothing wrong with their relationship after all, blaming his clingy brain for overthinking even the smallest problems. They're a family, right? And family always show when you ask them to come.
They end up finishing two seasons before Hyunjin deems it time to head back. Felix walks him to the door, the only light coming from the moon through the window. There’s that strange, homesickness-but-not-quite-homesickness feeling in his chest again. Hyunjin steps into his shoes and is about to open the door, but that emotion in Felix’s chest twists, and he’s whispering Hyunjin’s name before he can stop himself.
And Felix is tired and cold and slightly sad, so he lets his inhibitions down and lets his fingers brush Hyunjin’s arm, causing him to turn around, and allowing Felix to fold himself into Hyunjin’s arms. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thinks, it’s been so long since we have done this. We don’t do this.
The hug lasts around a couple of seconds before Hyunjin pulls away. The throbbing in his chest has abated slightly, and Felix just wants to bury himself in Hyunjin’s arms to chase it away completely. The boy in front of him is looking down, laughing nervously, wringing his hands together. He reaches out and touches Felix’s shoulder once.
“Goodnight, Lix,” he says softly, and Felix feels something in his chest crack open at the soft tone.
“Goodnight, Hyunjin,” he says back, smiling softly once more at Hyunjin, before they part and the ache returns.
No one has come close to you, and I don’t think anyone will
On the bench in the park, Felix replays the hug in his head. He thinks about the ache in his chest. He thinks about the distance between them that is becoming glaringly obvious. He replays the hug again. We don’t hug, Felix thinks. We used to, but now we don’t. This unspoken rule was broken that night, but why? What could have possibly made Felix reach out that night, like it was an instinct he had forgotten?
Since that night, the heaviness between his ribs has grown, sharpened whenever Hyunjin glances his way in practice, and even more when he looks past Felix. The latter seems to be happening more often now. And Felix misses Hyunjin. Too much in a way that would be considered friendly.
In the quiet of the night, he admits it.
I miss you.
Of course there’s no response. Hyunjin isn’t going to appear out of nowhere just because Felix thought about him. But Felix wishes he would. Felix wishes he could hug him, wishes this nauseating distance between them was gone. He wishes and wishes and wishes.
The throbbing in his chest swells, and Felix claws at his chest, chasing back the burn of tears. With every thought of Hyunjin, the ache blooms, like a rose unfurling, its thorns drawing blood.
They're family, right? And family can't be replaced.
Except Hyunjin doesn't feel like family - not exactly. He feels like late night drives in a silent city where they're the only two awake. He feels like the warmth of a sweater on an autumn afternoon. He feels like more than a friend, more than a mentor or a bandmate or a brother. He feels like home. And Felix isn't sure when he can return to it.
You’re just thinking it’ s a small thing that happened
The world ended when it happened to me
There is no denying it now. The pain is caused by Hyunjin. Felix thinks he’s always known. But the hug was the crux, the small detonation that has sent Felix’s thoughts into disarray, until the only thing he knows how to do is curl up and protect himself, like a wounded animal.
The worst part is, Hyunjin is unaffected. This hug, this brief entanglement of limbs has split Felix open, like ripe fruit crushed under an artist’s palm. In comparison, Hyunjin remains a stone wall, unbreachable, unbroken, and unbearable for Felix to look at. Despite their closeness a few nights ago, the hug has somehow pushed them apart further, until Felix is unsure whether they can ever reconcile.
There are tears sliding over his face and pooling into his palm now. Felix tilts his face to look at the moon one last time before stiffly standing from the bench and trudging back to his dorm.