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Summary
Felix notices the way his dad looks at him.
He'd be an idiot if he didn’t. He’s lived underneath his roof for the last twenty-five years, and his father’s gazes have only grown in abundance. He stares and he watches, and he doesn’t care if Felix notices.
Felix always does, and he preens under the attention. He’s desperate for it, despite trying not to be. He’s given up, truthfully.
Everyone has always called him a daddy’s boy. He never used to think much of it until he started looking at Chan the same way. Until they were looking at each other with weird looks in their eyes that couldn’t be categorized under familial.
or: Felix is a daddy's boy. Always has been, always will be.