Chapter Text
•~• ʚïɞ •~•
•~• ʚïɞ •~•
It's a Bad Day.
One of those days where Felix wakes already exhausted, headache pounding at the backs of his eyes. One of those days where the ten hours spent tossing and turning on his uncomfortable couch provided no real relief to his worn, weary body. One of those days where the familiar stiffness of his lumbar is present from the very start, a pulsing ache crawling up his spine and down his leg.
Dragging himself to the shower takes more time and energy than he has to spare, but with luck, the hot water will ease at least a fraction of the various pains radiating through every fiber of his being. With bleary eyes, he strikes a match to light a soft, soothing scented candle, accustomed to showering by candlelight to save on his electric bill. Cranking the knob to as hot as he can tolerate, Felix sheds his sleep clothes, unable to avoid a glance into the mirror before the fog can obscure his reflection.
Dulled complexion, his awful freckles all the more visible, causing his skin to appear dirt-flecked. Chapped, cracking lips which have long forgotten how to form anything other than a frown. Dark eye bags beneath flat, lifeless eyes. Dark hair now dingy and lackluster, the length reaching past his shoulders despite being rife with split ends. Collarbones too sharp, bones too pronounced beneath sickly pale skin.
He needs to get back on a proper skincare routine. He needs a haircut. He needs to eat more. He knows. But lately, he hasn't had the strength to do anything other than work, come home, and crash. Self-care is too much effort. Skin products and a haircut are too expensive. Cooking — and even the simple act of just eating, at times — is too difficult when he's already so bone-deep fatigued, so he's been surviving on microwave meals, ramen cups, and convenience store snacks. Shopping for actual groceries is expensive, exhausting, and time consuming, and any extra time spent in public runs the risk of exposing his status if a dom were to approach in a vulnerable moment.
Simply existing is just so much work, and Felix is so, so tired.
With a sigh, he steps into the shower, tension melting under the warm stream, eyes slipping closed to enjoy a brief, fleeting moment of peace before he begins his routine.
Halfway through, Felix has already lost what minuscule energy he woke with. Tears sting the backs of his eyes, hands trembling as he gives in to the demands of his body, slowly lowering to his knees.
It's getting worse.
He's getting worse
This is the shortest turn around time yet. He just self soothed into that half-aware state between consciousness and the comforting, needed grip of subspace before bed — he shouldn't be feeling such an intense need to go under again so soon. Biting his lip, Felix closes his eyes, two fingers pressed to his pulse, and regulates his breathing into deep, calming breaths, counting.
One
He needs to get up. He needs to get ready for work.
Two
He just missed a day last week after an off-hand comment from a coworker sent him into subdrop.
Three
He cannot afford to drop again. His kitchen is bare, his monthly budget strangled tight. The thought of going through another drop — alone, desperate, and sobbing on his couch for comfort he knows will never come — churns his empty stomach, heart clenching in grief.
Four
There's no more wiggle room for error. He has to get up, he has to get ready for work. There is no other choice.
Five
Gritting his teeth, Felix forces himself up, body screaming, muscles aching in protest, tears burning at the backs of his eyes. He shoves it all down, pushes it back, kicks it to the farthest recesses of his consciousness, disconnecting from his body as much as possible.
Get up, get moving, get up, get moving, you have to get up, you have to go are the only thoughts he allows, forcing them to repeat until they are all he can focus on.
As he steps from the shower, his vision swims with vertigo as he yanks his mind back from its attempt to drift away to the far-off shores of subspace. He feels so wrong; like his skin doesn't fit properly, like his bones are fragile, like his flesh is bloated, like his tongue is too big for his mouth, like his brain is swollen in his skull, like his eyes aren't properly in their sockets.
Everything is wrong wrong wrong.
But it doesn't matter. He still has to get up. He still has to work. There is no other choice.
It's already a Bad Day, and he knows it will only get worse.
•~• ʚïɞ •~•
Felix doesn't even make it to his lunch break.
By the time he barges out of the backdoor of the shitty little convenience store he works the overnight stock shift in, he's barely hanging on. The cold air is sharp in his lungs as he gasps in a breath, hand trembling as he braces himself against the brick, head buzzing with thick static as his mind relentlessly tugs him towards subspace.
Two fingers press to his neck, feeling out his pounding pulse, thrumming under his skin like the wings of a butterfly.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
A cloud of cigarette smoke hangs in the air, the scent making him crave the soothing comfort of nicotine — he hasn't been able to spare money for a pack in months. But Felix can't focus on that right now, can't think of anything other than steadying himself enough to go back inside.
Just keep breathing.
Breathe.
One
Two
Three
Four
Fi-
The terrifying sound of footsteps approaching interrupts his count.
Someone else is here. Someone is going to find him like this. What if it's a dom? What if-
“Hey there, you okay?”
The voice sounds as if it's coming from underwater. A hand touches his shoulder, warm and solid and grounding. Felix jerks away on instinct, stumbling into the wall as his wide, panicked eyes shoot towards the stranger.
“Woah, hey…”
The man’s hands raise, palms out in a placating gesture, as if soothing a wild animal. And it almost works. This stranger has a calming, soothing aura about him, something that makes Felix ache for a hug, for praise — for any scrap of comfort. He's beautiful, Felix thinks, with his dark swept back hair and expressive dark eyes. Dressed in all black, a tight fitting compression shirt beneath a leather jacket, tattoos peeking out from the collar and the ends of his sleeves, a lit cigarette in his fingers. As he flicks the ash, a braided leather bracelet with six silver beads catches the light. Felix’s throat goes dry.
A dom.
A head dom.
The realization only causes that longing for comfort to intensify. Fuck. He needs to go under, and he needs to do it now. Eyes blurring with tears, Felix whimpers. Unable to do anything but buckle under the weight of instinct, his legs fold, talons of his dynamic digging in sharply to bring him to his knees.
“Oh-” The stranger’s eyes widen as Felix crumbles, and he flicks away his cigarette. “Okay, then- shit…” The man takes a hesitant step towards him, voice softening, oozing with a soothing tenderness that makes Felix ache. “Is there someone I can call for you? A dom, a friend, family..?”
With a shake of his head, Felix squeezes his eyes closed as a sob escapes, forcing his mouth to move, “A-alone.”
“Oh, sweetheart, hey, don't- don't cry, please…” The stranger steps closer, crouching down in front of Felix. “You… do you, ah, work here?”
Even through the haze, Felix can make out the confusion in the man’s tone, the hesitance. And of course he's confused — why wouldn't he be? It's illegal for submissives to work, after all. Yet here Felix is, in his work uniform, yet blatantly going into subdrop.
The man’s gaze lingers on the ear cuff labeling Felix a switch, eyes narrowing in question, and Felix feels his blood go cold. Can he tell it's counterfeit? Does he suspect Felix’s legally mandated submissive choker sits hidden deep in a drawer at home? Is he going to report him?
The reminder of the deceit he’s forced to carry brings a fresh wave of tears to his eyes. Felix doesn't want to lie. He especially doesn't want to lie to this kind, beautiful dom — despite being strangers, it almost feels like a betrayal of the warm, comforting energy he emits.
“I can get you a coworker-”
“No!” Felix exclaims, reaching out blindly through his vision blurred by tears, barely able to make out more than shadows and long beams of light. Finding purchase, he grabs onto the man’s jacket, thoughts consumed with preventing him from leaving. “Please don't, dom-ssi. They- they don't know-”
“Shh, hey, it's okay, sweetie…” The dom's voice is so soft, so comforting, Felix feels himself tugged further down. “I won't tell, okay? Your secret is safe with me.”
“P-promise?” Felix asks, roughly wiping at his cheeks.
“Promise.” The stranger covers Felix’s hand with his own. “Is it alright if I help you, then? Put you under? I can't just leave you out here to drop all alone. It's not safe.”
Scared, Felix shrinks back, curling into himself. He knows what type of help strange doms are usually willing to give.
“Nothing untoward!" The stranger clarifies, voice raising in pitch when he realizes Felix's fear. “Just- just, you know, comfort you, hold you until you come back up… whatever you need, whatever you're comfortable with."
Oh, the thought of this sweet, pretty dom helping him space makes Felix ache. Tears flood his vision and spill over onto freckled cheeks as he shoves down all the painful longing in his chest and forces his answer out.
“I- I can't-” Felix chokes out through a sob, hands covering his face as shame eats at him. Why does he have to be so pathetic? So needy? Why can't he take care of himself? Why can't he just be like the subs who can space themselves with a dom-guided podcast and be free to live his life with an ounce of dignity?
“Hey…” Warm hands take his own, easing them down. The man is so close that Felix can smell his cologne, something warm and spicy and comforting. “Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” The dom commands, voice gentle yet firm. Felix gasps in a shuddering breath. “Good, that's it. Doing so good.”
The praise sends a wave of full body tingles over Felix, his mind relaxing just a bit. God, how he wants to let go, to not think and just listen and be good-
“Why can't I help you?”
“I have to- to-” Felix struggles to say the words, wishing they weren't true, wishing his reality was something different. “Have t’ go back t’ work, dom-ssi.”
The stranger's expression hardens with determination.
“Sweetheart. You're not going back to work like this.”
The sharp sting of failure stabs through any positive feelings still tingling in Felix’s body.
He's being bad. He's being bad and disobedient and now he's gone and disappointed this beautiful, kind dom and this is why no one wants him.
“I'm s-sorry, dom-ssi,” Felix sobs, squeezing his eyes shut. “B-but I have to- I’ll get fired, I can't afford-”
“Hey,” The dom says, steady voice cutting through the fog of panic in Felix’s mind. “Don't worry, okay? Dom will take care of all that for you.”
Felix can't hold back a soft little noise at this beautiful man referring to himself as dom, at the promise — the permission — to let go and stop worrying, just for one night.
“But-”
“No buts.”
The dom smiles again, a cute, boyish grin that causes dimples to indent his cheeks, awakening butterflies in Felix’s stomach.
“I'm proud of you for being so responsible, sweetheart, but it's time to let yourself rest.” The stranger reaches out to gently pet Felix’s hair. “The shop I work at is nearby. We're gonna go there and dom’s gonna take care of you for however long you need, alright?”
The last of Felix’s resolve crumbles as he's filled with warm tingles, inside of his head fluffing up with fuzzy cotton as the words sink in down to his bones.
He's good. Dom is proud of him. Dom is going to take care of him and make sure everything is okay.
He can rest. He can let go.
Something in Felix’s expression must shift, because a pleased smile lights up the dom’s face.
Sniffling, Felix clears his throat, voice coming out a little strained. “Thank you, dom-ssi…”
“Oh, aren't you just so good, sweet one?” The dom coos, ruffling Felix’s hair with something close to fondness softening his eyes. “Do you have any pets or medications we need to plan around?”
“A cat, but he's okay…” Felix sniffles, moving his heavy limbs to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Left food out for the night.”
“Okay. My name is Chan. Will you tell me yours?”
“F-Felix.”
“Felix?” The dom asks, tilting his head as a cute, inquisitive expression crosses his face. Felix blinks at the accent on his name, the effortless pronunciation most Koreans struggle with. “You from an English speaking country?”
“Australia.”
“Yeah?" The dom — no, Chan — asks, switching to English, the familiar accent spreading warmth in Felix's chest. "Me too, mate! Grew up in Sydney!”
“…really?” Felix asks, gazing up at Chan with wide eyes. “Me too.”
“Yeah?” Chan smiles so wide his cheek dimples pop again, and Felix feels himself slipping a little farther, lulled into a sense of safety by this beautifully adorable man and his comforting presence. “What part?”
Normally, Felix would be extremely hesitant to give out information on himself like this, but the warm comfort of speaking to someone from his home country swells up in his chest, overriding his usual caution.
“Seven Hills.”
“Wait, no shit? Ah, we were practically neighbors, Lixie!”
Lixie.
A flush heats Felix’s cheeks, his eyes turning round and doe-like.
“Can I call you that?”
"Y-yeah..."
Chan’s grin shifts into something playful. With a cute giggle, he bops the tip of Felix’s freckled little nose with a gentle fingertip.
“Well, in that case… you can call me Chris.”
•~• ʚïɞ •~•
Chris is nice, Felix finds himself thinking as the pair make the trek to Chan’s shop, that familiar, pleasant fuzziness Felix hasn't allowed himself to feel in so, so long slowly sinking in.
The dom insisted on giving Felix a piggyback ride, and now, after walking only a few blocks, they've come to a stop. Warily, Felix peeks up from his place safely hidden in Chan’s shoulder to glance around. The building itself is rather unremarkable, a fairly standard two story building with a business space at the ground level and likely an apartment above. Red neon lights glow from the windows of the business, advertising tattoos and piercings.
A tattoo parlor?
A little bell above the door tinkles to announce them to the rest of the staff, and Felix glances around a darkly painted yet brightly lit space. Various tattoo art pieces cover the walls, framed in black. Display cases containing body jewelry sit near the counter, little gems and shiny bits of metal glittering under the bright lights. A boy with chubby cheeks and round eyes looks up from flipping through a magazine, and his eyes go comically wide.
“Chan-hyung!”
Chris is nice, Felix reminds himself when the anxiety of logic tries to fight through the haze of cloudy instinct. Chris is safe. I'm safe.
As the chubby-cheeked boy rounds the counter, his ear cuff glints in the bright light, and Felix relaxes just a little.
“Who's this?” The switch asks, gazing at Felix with round, curious eyes. “Oh, he's pretty!”
At the compliment — the praise — a soft little sound of content escapes Felix before he can swallow it down. Flushing, he buries his face into Chan’s shoulder once more.
“Ah, so cute!” The switch coos, and Felix tightens his grip on Chan, tingling all over.
This beautiful switch thinks he's pretty and cute. He's being good.
“Easy, Hannie, don't overwhelm him,” Chan says, voice warm and smooth. “I bumped into him outside, he just needs a little help. Which rooms are open right now?”
“Uh, lemme check-” There's the faint sound of tapping, and Felix peeks out to see the switch — Hannie — checking a tablet. “Room 4 is free the rest of the night.”
“Thanks, Hannie.”
With that, Chan heads toward the back of the building, walking past areas with tattoo chairs sectioned off by short walls covered in more art. At one, a man with purple hair and silver dom bracelet glinting on his wrist is preparing to pierce a switch's navel. His face checks nearly every box of the Korean beauty standard in a way most can only ever dream of, expression calm yet concentrated as he threads the jewelry into the needle. Cool, feline-like eyes flit up to meet Felix's, and the dom raises a brow, a soft grin tugging the corner of his lips as Felix feels his cheeks heat under the attention. His gaze slides to Chan, a knowing expression crossing his face before he turns back to the task at hand.
The next station over, a man with biceps the size of Felix's thigh and covered in tattoos leans over someone's calf, tattoo gun in hand and dom bracelet on his wrist. The tattoo artist shifts his gaze to Felix and Chan, dark bangs curling across his forehead and into his eyes before he shakes them away. Then he smiles, big and warm and playful, lighting up his whole face and melting Felix's insides into mushy goo. With a wink, he nods at Felix in acknowledgement before focusing back on his work.
At the final occupied station, a man with flaming red hair and sketchpad balanced on his knee glances up as they pass, dark eyes briefly meeting Felix’s own. And, fuck, he's gorgeous; easily one of the most beautiful people Felix has ever seen. He doesn't need to look for the bracelet on his wrist to know this man is a dom. Everything from the subtle confidence of his body language to the intensity of his gaze as he stares at Felix, face blank and head slightly tilted, speaks of a quiet, effortless dominance woven into his cells. It slams into Felix hard, and he feels his breath falter, head fluffing up with cottony fuzz. Swallowing thickly, Felix drops his face into Chan's shoulder, afraid he may say or do something embarrassing if he holds that intense gaze any longer.
“Pick up another stray, Channie-hyung?”
Oh, god. His voice.
A full-body tremble begins deep in Felix’s bones, the urge to look at the redhead all-consuming. Instinct yanks him further under, demanding he drop to his knees and prove to this gorgeous dom just how good he can be.
Instead, he swallows it all down.
“Just someone who needs a little help, Jin.”
There's a scoff, and Felix can practically feel the beautiful dom — Jin — rolling his eyes.
“That's what you always say, hyung.”
With a dismissive hum, Chan continues on without pause, and Felix swears can feel that intense gaze burning into his back. Overwhelmed and growing needier by the second, Felix stays hidden in Chan’s shoulder until he hears a door open and close, the general noise of the main area now drowned out. He looks up just in time for Chan to begin easing him onto a black leather couch, glancing around what appears to be a more private tattoo space.
“Here we go, mate.” Chan gently takes Felix’s hands, all but prying his tight grip off. A bolt of pure panic shoots through him, and Felix makes a soft, sad little noise before he can stop himself, hands reaching out to grasp the edges of his jacket.
“Don't-” His voice is weak, trembling and small. Felix hates it, hates how weak he sounds, how weak he feels, how needy he is already. He's being too much, he knows he is, but he can't stop himself. “Please, Chris-dom, don't leave-”
“Hey, hey… I'm not goin’ anywhere,” Chan reassures, eyes soft but questioning. His lips turn up in a cute grin, and he takes Felix’s hand, dimples popping. “I do wanna take this off, though. Is that okay, sweetheart?”
Melting at the pet name, Felix nods, and Chan places a little kiss to his knuckles before shrugging out of his leather jacket. And… fuck. If Felix thought Chan was unbearably attractive before, covered by a jacket and lit only by streetlight, now he gets to see him in just that tight black compression shirt in the full light of the room. His arms are so muscular, with tattoos crawling up both until they disappear under the short sleeves. Felix’s breath catches, brain completely freezing, fingers twitching with the urge to squeeze his biceps.
A grin tugs at Chan’s lips when he catches Felix’s stare.
“You like them?” Chan asks, holding out his hands and slowly turning them to show off his arms. Wide eyed, Felix shoots his gaze up to Chan’s, opening and closing his mouth without words, only managing a choked little squeak. Raising a brow, Chan’s grin shifts, eyes narrowing playfully, looking almost wolfish as he tilts his head. “You know… my tattoos?”
“Y-yeah. Yes. You're so pretty-” Felix stops short, face flushing hot enough to fry an egg, stumbling over his words to backtrack. “Y-you're tattoos, that is! Not that you aren't- Because, like, obviously, you're- um, I mean, uh... fuck.”
Chan breaks out into a warm little laugh, eyes crinkling and sparkling in amusement as he ruffles Felix’s hair. “Ah, so cute~”
The praise makes Felix tingle all over, warmth flooding his veins and further relaxing his muscles.
"Thank you, Chris-dom…"
"So polite, aren't you, sweetheart?" Chan says, blatant fondness in his voice as he tucks loose hair behind Felix's ear. Felix only nods, feeling suddenly bashful, eyes averting to the ground and missing how Chan smiles knowingly. "Here, let dom make you more comfortable."
Strong arms circle Felix's waist, tugging him with ease until Felix is settled snug against Chan's side. Fingers delve into his hair, gently combing through the length in a soothing motion that has Felix melting, a trembling exhale leaving his lips as his mind tugs him towards the blissful nothingness of subspace. Gradually, he allows himself to relax, long-held tension easing from his wound-tight body now that he can space with a dom for the first time in months. Before Felix knows it, he's settled against Chan's chest, ear pressed right over his heart, counting the beats until it's all that's left.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
One
Two
Thr-
Just when Felix finally begins to drift, lulled by the steady beat of Chan's heart, a knock sounds out, jarring him from the calm, easy float. Startled out of his spacing, Felix jumps, wide eyes shooting to the door, a whimper forcing it's way out of his throat.
Who could it be? Another dom? Someone unsafe? His ex?
Dread pours down his spine, chilling him to the bone. His grip on Chan's bicep tightens, and Felix curls further into his embrace, desperately seeking comfort, seeking protection.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Chan says, voice soothing and calm. Fingers beneath his chin tilt his face up so his gaze can meet Chan's own, the steady warmth there easing away some of Felix's tension. "Dom won't let anyone hurt you, okay? It's probably Han, I asked him to bring water for you."
Unable to find words, Felix nods, burying his face in Chan's shoulder as the dom calls out a come in.
"Just me!" Sure enough, Felix recognizes the voice as the cute switch from the entrance, and his apprehension fades away. "I brought water and snacks, just in case, and a blanket, too."
"Thanks, Hannie." Felix feels the rumble of Chan's voice when he speaks, the vibration sending a bout of fresh tingles shooting through him. "He's a little shy, I think, so just the two of us are gonna stay in here, alright?"
"Aw, poor baby," Han coos, a teasing affection dripping from his voice.
A pout forms on Felix's lips, and he desperately wants to defend himself, to tell them he's not shy. But that might mean more people — more doms, possibly even the intimidating redhead — join them, and Felix doesn't think he can handle that. Instead he keeps his lips pressed tightly closed, muscles unconsciously tensing the longer a third person is in the room, no matter how nonthreatening Han seems. An involuntary, small little noise of protest leaves his throat, and Felix flushes, wrapping an arm around Chan's waist and curling into his chest to further hide.
"Gah, Channie-hyung, he's too cute!" Han exclaims, a pout audible in his words. "Why do you get to hog him? I wanna cuddle him, too…"
"Han," Chan says, voice hardening, the dominance woven into that single word sending a wave of submissive urges through Felix's every nerve. "Not now, okay? You can meet him and maybe cuddle later if he wants to. But he needs to be spaced right now."
"Sorry, hyung," Han says, voice significantly more leveled and calm. "Let me know if you need anything else, okay?"
"Thanks, Hannie."
The door opens and closes, and Felix releases a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
"Okay, Lixie, sit up for a sec and drink some water for me."
Whining, Felix shakes his head, tightening his grip on Chan and mumbling a muffled Mn-mn.
"Yes, Lixie. C'mon, mate, upsie daisies…"
A strategic poke to his side has Felix squealing, squirming away enough for Chan to wrangle him into a more upright position. An open bottle of water appears at his lips, and Felix's eyes flutter open, vision blurry as he blinks through the haze. After Felix downs half the bottle, Chan is satisfied, and Felix slumps back against his side.
"Hungry?"
"No, Chris-dom. Need t' go under…"
"I know, sweetie, I know."
After the blanket is tucked securely around Felix's shoulder, Chan wraps Felix back up in his arms, and the soothing touch to his hair resumes. With a content sigh, Felix allows himself to let go, to listen to the demands of his body as he's tugged further into that happy, thoughtless place where he longs to be taken cared of — just like Chan has been doing since the moment they met.
Chris is safe, Felix reminds himself as a small, nagging part of his mind tries to tell him he's being too trusting, too naive, that he can't be vulnerable around any dom, no matter how nice. Chris is safe. Chris is safe. Chris is safe.
"That's it, there ya go…" Chan murmurs, lips brushing Felix's hair, breath warm on his scalp. "Doing so well, Lixie."
"…I am?" Felix manages to ask, voice small and soft, dripping vulnerability. "'m being good? Really?"
The arms around him shift, one looping around Felix's shoulders to tuck him tighter into Chan's embrace until Felix resettles against his chest.
"Yeah, of course. So, so good, letting dom take care of you. Such a good boy for me, pretty baby."
Something in Chan's voice crumbles away the last of Felix's waning resolve. He's being good. He's pretty and good and Chris's pretty baby. With a sigh of content, Felix fully melts against the strong expanse of Chan's chest, the muscle that, were he a little more aware, limbs a little more willing to cooperate, his hands would be all over.
"'m your pretty baby?" Felix mumbles through the warm, cottony haze of full subspace, too far gone to recognize the hope in his own voice.
"…yeah, sweetheart, yeah." Swallowing a lump in his throat, Chan squeezes Felix tighter as the sub in his arms drifts under. "You're my pretty baby, Lixie."
•~• ʚïɞ •~•
Two hours later, Felix is still floating in full subspace. Thirty minutes in, Chan had shifted so they could lay more comfortably, and Felix had blissfully settled into the new position curled between Chan's side and the back of the couch, head still resting right over his heart. Chan has spent the time fully spaced, himself, basking in the satisfied peace that seeing this adorable, sweet, stressed, neglected little sub rest has brought to him.
So when the door softly eases open, Chan turns narrowed eyes to the intruder, angry at the thought of a member of his own eros disturbing this hard-fought for peace. Bright red is the first thing to slip through the door, soon revealed to be Hyunjin, the second dom of his eros. Chan brings a finger to his lips, signaling Hyunjin to be quiet and hopefully not disturb the deeply spaced sub in his arms.
With a nod of understanding, Hyunjin's eyes flit down to Felix. It's quiet for a moment, Chan patiently waiting for whatever Hyunjin has to say.
"He's pretty," Hyunjin finally whispers, "Like, stupidly pretty."
"No shit." Chan has to stop himself from laughing. "Is that what you came in here for? To comment on his looks?"
"No, hyung." Hyunjin rolls his eyes, shifting his weight before crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. "Are we keeping him?"
"...I don't know." Chan whispers, voice soft.
"You want to keep him."
It's not a question.
"Yeah..." Chan admits as he brushes some of Felix's hair off of his cheek. "He's Aussie, too. From the same fuckin' neighborhood in Sydney, even. Kinda feels like fate."
"Seems almost too perfect..." Hyunjin hums in contemplation. "How do we know he's not a setup? A spy sent by one of our enemies?"
"Jinnie, look at him."
Hyunjin sighs.
"He's neglected."
"...I know."
"He looks soft."
"I know."
"He's sweet."
"Oh, I'm sure he is."
Chan shakes his head.
"You didn't see him before, Jinnie, or you'd get it. He was posing as a switch, working in a convenience store. I found him when he ran out back mid-dop." Subconsciously, Chan's arms tighten around Felix, as if he can protect him from the life he's lead up until now. "And he- he's not just neglected. He was terrified of me at first."
"Great. A sub that's neglected and abused. Just what a gang of crimals needs."
"I wanna help him," Chan whispers, voice hardened with a familiar determination.
"Chan-hyung..." Hyunjin exhales a heavier sigh, gaze shifting once more to the devastatingly pretty sub laying blissfully unaware on his head dom's chest. The tug of protective instinct yanks at him, drawing him in, just as hard as it did when they first met eyes. Swallowing thickly, Hyunjin tears his gaze away. "Does he want help?"
The silence speaks volumes.
"Just... don't get your heart set on him," Hyunjin says as he turns to leave the room, unsure if he's speaking more to Chan or himself. "We don't know if he'll stay."
•~• ʚïɞ •~•