Chapter Text
There were tears building up in Felix’s eyes. He didn’t mean for it to turn out this way. He only wanted to surprise his daddy by painting him a nice picture. He didn’t mean to spill paint all over the ground. He was too emerged into making the painting look good that he became unaware of his surroundings and accidentally knocked over the open bottle of baby blue paint.
“ ‘m sorry’ he tried. He stood in front of his daddy, sobbing and rubbing his wet eyes. Desperate for his caregiver to forgive him, acknowledge his true intentions, instead of only seeing his mistakes. He slowly walked closer to his daddy, trying to reach out for his hand, only for it to be yanked out of his reach.
“ Felix.” a stern sound was voiced. He knew this voice, this tone. The look on his daddy’s face when he spoke to him. As if he was an untamed and ungrateful dog. “Get out of my sight.” The little’s heart shattered. His daddy had been mad at him many times, but this time it felt different. As if it were pure hatred. As if he regretted ever taking Felix in. As if he didn’t have a single care in his heart for the poor boy, who at this point was shaking, tears unstoppable.
Felix knew what this meant. He had to go up to his room. Sit in the dark corner and think about what he ‘did wrong’. He would always have to sit there for hours on end until he was allowed to leave when it was dinner time. “Not. Not to your room”, the man said. Felix tilted his head to the side. Not to his room? What does he mean by that? His room is where he spends most of his time, whether it be for a punishment or not. His room is all he knows. “Out.” It was short and harshly said, but Felix understood. Oh, he understood so well. He always feared this would happen at one point.
“I don’t want you in here tonight. I need time alone. You can come back inside tomorrow and think about how your going to fix this.” A heart throbbing sob escaped the boy. He didn’t mean for it to go like this. All he intended was to make his daddy feel better and relaxed after a long day at the office. Put instead of getting praised by his effort, he was being scolded, harshly and unproportionally punished for the mess he made in the process.
“Please, didn’t mean to make mess, want daddy happy,” he knew better than to talk back, but he didn’t want to spend his night outside for the life of him. At night, you could sometimes hear drunk men passing by, multiple street dogs barking, and on top of that, it was winter. He looked up at his daddy with big, wet and pleading eyes. Hoping that he would feel even the slightest bit of guilt or remorse for the boy. But then again, he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Of course, he was met with a stern, almost deadly gaze. He cried and cried as he was dragged by the arm all the way to the front door. “Pwease,” his words weared slurred, and he was speaking with a lisp. He could collapse right now, worn out from his endless crying, if it wasn’t for the strong grip on his arm keeping him on his two feet.
The door slammed in his fac,e and as the loud bang stopped ringing through his ears, his knees gave up. He sat there, back against the front door, knees pulled up, slightly rocking himself. He was still cryin,g but barely. He didn’t have any energy left in him. He even skipped nap time to work on his painting. He wished daddy could just try understand him for once.
Minutes passed, and soon those minutes turned into hours. As the blue sky slowly lost its colour and the noise in the area quieted down, he let go of any hope his daddy might rethink all of this and let him back inside. The door felt impossibly heavy against Felix’s back. Shifting when the cold seeped through his thin pyjamas and into his bones. The concrete beneath him was leeching away what little warmth he had left. His fingers were numb, little hands curled into the sleeves of his top as if that alone could keep him safe.
Felix sniffled, a soft, broken sound, and pressed his forehead against his knees. Daddy wasn’t coming back. He knew that now. When the lights inside had turned off one by one, that tiny spark of hope he’d been holding onto flickered out completely.
“Is otay,” he whispered to himself, voice shaky. “Lixie be good… daddy not mad forever.”
The words felt wrong even as he said them, but he repeated them anyway. He always did. Saying them out loud made things hurt just a little less.
His tummy growled, loud in the quiet street. Felix whimpered and hugged himself tighter. He hadn’t had dinner. He hadn’t even had a snack. He tried to remember the last time he’d eaten anything at all, maybe lunch? It felt like a long, long time ago.
Slowly, stiffly, Felix pushed himself up onto his feet. The world swayed for a moment, spots dancing in his vision, and he leaned back against the door until it settled. His legs felt weak, like they might give out again at any second.
He looked around the street with wide, wary eyes.
Everything looked bigger at night. Scarier. Shadows stretched long and crooked across the pavement, and every sound, distant laughter, the clatter of a car passing, dogs barking far away, made his shoulders jump. Felix hugged himself, lower lip trembling. Where could he go? He wasn’t allowed to leave the front of the house. Daddy had said so before, in that sharp voice that meant Felix shouldn’t ask questions. But… Daddy wasn’t here right now. And Felix was so hungry. So cold.
There was a small convenience store down the street. He’d seen it through the car window once. Bright lights. Warm lights. Maybe… maybe they had food. Maybe they had something warm. Felix hesitated, chewing on his lip. He didn’t want to be bad. He really, really didn’t. But staying here felt worse. Staying here felt like he might disappear. “I just look,” he murmured, tears slipping down his cheeks again. “Just a lil bit.” He took one tiny step away from the door. Then another. Each step felt like he was doing something terribly wrong, but he kept going anyway, shuffling down the sidewalk in his socks, shoes forgotten inside. The cold bit at his feet immediately, making him hiss softly and walk faster despite himself.
By the time he reached the corner, his breathing was uneven, little pants puffing white clouds into the air. His fingers ached, his ears burned, and his nose was running freely now. He wiped it with his sleeve without really noticing. The store lights were on. Felix’s eyes widened. Relief washed over him so suddenly it made him dizzy. He stumbled forward, almost tripping over his own feet, and pushed open the door with both hands. A bell chimed overhead. Warmth wrapped around him instantly, and Felix let out a tiny, broken sob at the sensation. His body shook as the cold began to leave him, replaced by an aching chill that made him feel even smaller.
The store smelled like instant noodles and coffee. Felix blinked, eyes adjusting to the bright lights, and took a few careful steps inside. He didn’t see anyone behind the counter at first. He wandered toward the shelves, gaze drifting over colorful packages he didn’t recognize. Everything was too high up. Too big. He stood on his tiptoes, reaching for something, anything that looked like food, but his fingers brushed nothing but air. His chest tightened. “I can’t…” he whispered, voice wobbling. “Too high.” Tears welled up again, and he scrubbed at his eyes with both fists.
He didn’t want to cry. Crying always made things worse. Crying made people angry. But he was so tired. Felix slid down until he was sitting on the floor between two aisles, knees pulled up to his chest. The cold from outside still clung to him, and now that the adrenaline was fading, exhaustion hit him all at once. His eyelids felt heavy, his head drooping forward. “Daddy…” he whimpered before he could stop himself.
The bell above the door chimed again. Felix startled, eyes snapping open. He shrank back instinctively, pressing himself closer to the shelves. Big footsteps echoed through the store, followed by a voice laughing softly. “Babe, I told you popcorn is way better than chips,” Minho said, tugging his scarf tighter around his neck as he stepped inside. The cold air followed him in for a moment before the door swung shut again. Felix froze.
The man was tall. Taller than Daddy. He had dark hair peeking out from under a beanie and was bundled up in a thick coat. Felix’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. What if he was angry? What if he yelled? What if he made Felix leave? Minho grabbed a basket and headed toward the snack aisle, still on the phone. “Yeah, yeah, I’m getting it now. You’re so dramatic,” he teased fondly. Then he heard it. A sound so small he almost missed it. “Hic…” Minho paused mid-step. He frowned slightly, lowering his phone from his ear. The sound came again, soft, broken, unmistakably someone crying.
“…Chan, I’ll call you back,” he said quietly, hanging up. Minho followed the sound down the aisle, confusion turning to concern with every step. And then he saw him. A tiny boy, curled up on the floor like he was trying to make himself disappear. Blond hair messy and damp with sweat and tears. Cheeks red from the cold. Bare feet peeking out from thin pyjama pants. Minho’s heart clenched.
“Hey,” he said gently, crouching down a few feet away so he wouldn’t startle him. “Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?” Felix looked up. Big, watery eyes met Minho’s, fear flashing across his face before confusion settled in. He sniffed hard, hiccuping again, and shook his head. “N-no…” he whispered. Minho swallowed. “What’s your name?”
Felix hesitated, shoulders shaking. Daddy had told him not to talk to strangers. But this man wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t grabbing him. His voice was soft. Warm.
“F-Felix,” he said finally, voice barely audible.
Minho’s expression softened immediately. “Felix. That’s a really pretty name. My name is Minho.”
Felix blinked at him, startled. No one had ever said that before. Minho carefully set the basket aside and slipped off his gloves. “Felix, do you… do you have someone here with you?” Felix shook his head again, tears spilling over. “Daddy… m-mad.” That was all it took.
Minho reached out slowly, giving Felix plenty of time to pull away if he wanted to. When Felix didn’t, Minho gently rested his hand on the floor near him instead of touching him directly. “It’s really cold outside,” Minho said softly. “You shouldn’t be out there alone. Can I help you?” Felix’s lip trembled. He looked down at his hands, fingers twisting together nervously. “I jus’… ‘m hungry,” he admitted in a tiny voice. Minho felt something in his chest crack open. “Okay,” he said immediately. “Okay, we can fix that.”
He stood and grabbed the basket, quickly filling it with things, warm bread, a small carton of milk, a banana. Things that looked easy to eat. Things that looked safe. When he came back, Felix was still sitting there, watching him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Is it okay if I sit with you?” Minho asked. Felix nodded, just barely. Minho sat down crosslegged on the floor and held out the banana. “Here. For you.”
Felix stared at it like it might vanish if he reached for it. Slowly, carefully, he took it with both hands. “Thank you,” he whispered. Minho smiled, heart aching. “You’re welcome, Felix.”
As Felix peeled the banana and took a tentative bite, Minho glanced down at his socked feet, his thin clothes, the way he shivered even now. There was no way he was letting him go back outside. Not tonight. And maybe… not ever.
Felix ate slowly. Not because he wasn’t hungry, his tummy still ached, still begged, but because he was scared the food would disappear if he went too fast. Every bite was small and careful, chewed the way Daddy always told him to. Even then, he kept glancing up at Minho, like he was waiting for the man to suddenly tell him to stop. Minho didn’t. He stayed right there on the floor with him, close but not crowding, just present. When Felix fumbled with the milk carton, fingers still stiff and clumsy from the cold, Minho gently helped him poke the straw through the foil.
“Slow is good,” Minho said quietly when Felix paused, eyes flicking up in nervous question. “You’re doing great.”
Felix blinked.
Doing… great? He nodded anyway and took another sip. The milk was cool but comforting, settling in his belly in a way that made his chest ache.
When the banana was gone, he held the peel awkwardly in both hands, unsure. “I can take that,” Minho offered. Felix let him, watching carefully as Minho stood, tossed it, and came back just as easily as before. He didn’t leave. That alone made Felix’s shoulders loosen just a tiny bit.
Minho glanced at the clock above the counter. Late. Too late. His jaw tightened as he crouched again. “Felix,” he said gently. “Can you tell me where you live?” Felix froze. His hands curled into the hem of his shirt, twisting it tight. “I… I not s’posed to,” he mumbled, eyes dropping to the floor. “That’s okay,” Minho said immediately. “You’re not in trouble. I just want to make sure you’re safe.” Felix swallowed. “Daddy said… I sleep outside.” Minho’s chest went cold. “…Outside?” he repeated carefully. Felix nodded. “Made mess. Paint. Daddy mad.” That was it. Like it explained everything. Like it was normal.
Minho took a slow breath, forcing his voice to stay calm. “It’s really cold tonight, Felix. You shouldn’t have to sleep outside.” He hesitated, then added, “How about you come somewhere warm with me for now? Just for tonight.” Felix’s head snapped up. “With… you?” he asked, voice trembling. Minho nodded. “I live close by. There’s heat. Blankets. And my husband’s there too, his name’s Chan. He’s very kind.” Felix chewed on his lip, eyes shiny. “What if… daddy madder?” “You won’t be in trouble for being warm and safe,” Minho said softly. “I promise.” Felix didn’t really know what promises meant. But Minho didn’t sound like Daddy. “I… I don’t got shoes,” Felix said instead, like that was the biggest problem.
Minho didn’t hesitate. He slipped off his own thick socks and held them out. “These’ll help for now.” Felix’s eyes widened. “But you-”
“I’ll be okay,” Minho said with a small smile.
He helped Felix pull them on, rolling the extra fabric so they wouldn’t slip. Felix watched every movement, stunned by how gentle Minho was, how he asked before touching him, how he didn’t rush. When they stood, Minho wrapped his scarf loosely around Felix’s neck. “Ready?” he asked. Felix nodded, clutching the scarf with both hands. The walk back was quiet. Felix stayed very close, almost bumping into Minho’s side with every step, like he was afraid to be left behind. The apartment building wasn’t far.
When they stepped inside, warm air rushed over Felix and he sagged a little, exhaustion finally catching up. “Up you go,” Minho murmured. He scooped Felix up gently. Felix stiffened for half a second.
Being picked up usually meant something bad, but Minho’s hold was careful, secure. Nothing hurt. Felix melted into him.
The apartment was dim and quiet. Minho slipped off his shoes and carried Felix in. “Chan?” he called softly. Chan appeared almost immediately, worry on his face, until he saw Felix.
“Oh,” Chan breathed. Minho shut the door. “Found him at the store. He was outside alone.” Chan stepped closer, eyes scanning Felix’s flushed cheeks, the way he clung weakly to Minho’s coat. “Oh, sweetheart…” he murmured, keeping his distance. “Jisung’s asleep,” Chan added quietly. Minho nodded. “Okay.”
Felix stirred at the new voice, eyes fluttering open. Panic flickered, then eased when he saw Minho was still there. “Hi,” Chan said gently. “I’m Chan. You’re safe here.” Felix studied him. “…Warm?” he asked. Chan’s heart clenched. “Very warm.” They cleaned Felix up quietly, washing his freezing feet, wrapping them in towels, sliding on thick socks.
Felix swayed, blinking slowly. “Sleepy,” he mumbled. Minho carried him into the bedroom. A small star-shaped nightlight glowed softly. Another little slept in one bed, curled around a plushie.
Felix stared.
Another little.
“That’s Jisung,” Minho whispered. “He’s asleep.”
Felix nodded, then was guided into the other bed. He curled in on himself, thumb drifting toward his mouth, then stopping.
Chan noticed. “Do you need something to help you sleep?” Felix hesitated. “I… got binky. At home.” “That’s okay,” Chan said softly.
He returned with a clean spare pacifier. Felix stared at it.
“…‘m I ‘llowed?”
Chan smiled gently. “Of course you’re allowed sweetheart.” Felix took it, relief melting through him as he sucked quietly. His eyes drooped almost instantly.
“We’ll talk more in the morning,” Minho whispered, brushing his hair back. “Just sleep.”
“Minho?” Felix murmured around the pacifier.
“Yeah, buddy?” “Thank you… for not leavin’ me.” Minho swallowed. “I would never leave you” Felix fell asleep.
Minho and Chan stood there listening to two small, steady breaths.
“This changes things,” Chan whispered. Minho nodded. “Yeah. But we’re not sending him back.”
“Not a chance.”