Work Text:
When Chris flips the paper tab of the generic Christmas-themed gift card holder in his hands, the first thing he says on instinct is, “Oh cool, thank you!”
It takes a moment for him to register what he’s been gifted. He turns his head, looking equal parts perplexed and guilty for being confused in the first place. The second thing he says is an earnestly muttered, “Will I like this?”
Hyunjin tsks from the opposite end of the couch, peeling himself off the cushions to swipe his hand toward the gift card. “Damn, fine, I’ll take it back then.”
“No, no!” Chris reassures, extending his arm to keep it out of Hyunjin’s reach. “I’ve just never had one before and I genuinely don’t know if I’ll like it.”
“Why would I give you this if I didn’t think you’d like it?”
Chris laughs dryly through the familiar feeling of getting called out. Most times, his friends know what he needs more than he does. “I’m assuming because you think I need to relax.”
“Correct.”
“Don’t they hurt though?”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “It’s a massage, not a death sentence. Not all massages include excavating into the muscle.” He scoots closer to Chris and squeezes at his shoulders, a warm-up for the real massage he’s gifted him. “Look, they’re a staple of pampering and relaxation for a reason. I wanted to get you something you’d never treat yourself with, and I think it’ll be good for you to let your brain shut off for an hour.”
Chris peels the gift card from the paper holder. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have thought to treat myself to this. That’s really thoughtful,” he says, rolling the gummy adhesive off the back. He smiles, leaning into Hyunjin’s touch. “Thanks, dude.”
“Thank me again once they work out this mountain range of knots from your shoulder blades.” Hyunjin lightly digs a finger into Chris' back for effect. “You’ll be on cloud nine.”
“Damn, heard,” Chris concedes, rolling his shoulders a couple times. He’s never paid attention to how tight his muscles are, but then again, he can’t remember what it’s like to not have his back feel like a plank of plywood.
“Thank you for calling Inner Balance Massage. My name is Samantha. Are you calling about our Holiday Double Gift Card Promotion today?”
Chris flinches at how fast all those words were lobbed at him over the phone. When his brain catches up to speed, he sputters, “Hi, uh, no thank you? I wanted to book an appointment.”
“Facial or massage?”
“Massage, please.”
“When were you looking to book?”
“Um, whenever you have open is fine.”
“What kind of massage were you interested in receiving?”
“The, uh…the regular one?” He didn’t know there was more than one kind.
“Our basic Swedish massage is the most popular. Would you like a male or female service provider?”
So many questions, jesus. “Either is fine.”
Chris hears some rhythmic tapping of nails on a keyboard for a moment.
“We have this upcoming Thursday at 6:30 available. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
A few mouse clicks, then, “And your name?”
“Christopher Bang. B-A-N-G.”
Chris rattles off the rest of his information when prompted, and finally finishes scheduling the appointment. He thanks her for her help and hangs up, feeling even more out of his depths than before.
Chris is told to arrive at Inner Balance at 6:15; something about having to fill out an intake form before they can get started. He shows up at 6:00 to be on the safe side.
Once he’s done checking boxes and signing his name, he takes a seat in one of the plush leather chairs and takes in the manufactured serenity of the waiting room. The mini waterfall in the corner really complements the shelves of overpriced skincare.
A good 20 minutes of waiting later, the door leading to the back swings open gently. Then, he hears, “Christopher?”
The deepness of that voice is enough to startle Chris out of his waterfall-induced trance. “Hi, yeah, just Chris is fine,” he says, pushing himself up out of the chair.
It’s only after he’s standing that he takes in the person standing at the door. On first impression, he might be the prettiest person Chris has ever seen, with his bright smile and the kindest eyes. He’s got blonde hair parted neatly down the middle, the ends falling against his freckled cheekbones. God, freckles.
There’s a cute little belt around his waist, a bottle of what Chris assumes to be massage oil hanging against his hip. He’s so pretty. There’s no way that voice came out of that face — he needs to hear it again to verify immediately.
“I’m Felix,” the boy says, holding his hand out politely as Chris walks over. “I’ll be taking care of you today.”
Okay, yeah, that’s actually his voice. It finally hits Chris that this is who’s going to be massaging him. He’s going to have his hands all over Chris. God. “Nice to meet you,” he says as he shakes Felix’s hand.
Felix leads him back through the door and gestures down the hall. “We’ll be in room 6, to the left.”
Once they’re in the room, Chris stands by the massage table awkwardly. He doesn’t even know where to begin. There’s soft music coming from a speaker somewhere in the room, pan flutes and sounds of running water filling the silence as Felix closes the door behind them.
Felix, thankfully, has a script to follow. “So, what brings you in?”
“Um. I got a gift card for Christmas?”
Felix laughs softly. “Have you ever had a massage before?”
“No, first time.”
“Well, I’m honored to be your first,” Felix says, a teasing lilt to his voice. Before Chris can think too hard about that, Felix continues, “Are there any areas in particular that you want to work on today?”
Chris shakes his head. “Wherever, uh, you think I need it I guess?”
Felix smiles. “I’ll take great care of you, then. I’m going to step out; undress to your comfort level and we’ll start face down.”
“Like…underwear, right?” Chris asks. This shouldn’t be so mortifying.
“Mhm,” Felix answers, unfazed, and steps toward the door, “or whatever you’re most comfortable with. I have clients who keep their shirts on and I have clients who prefer it fully nude.”
“Yeah, no, I’ll… I’ll stick to just underwear.” He’s thankful that the dimness of this room is likely hiding the redness of his ears. “Thank you.”
Felix steps out of the room, giving Chris the space to undress and pile his clothes onto the chair in the corner of the room. Chris slides himself under the sheet on the massage table as best he can, delightfully surprised that the table is heated, and lets his face rest in the hole of the headrest.
A minute or so later, there’s a knock at the door. “All set?” Chris hears from the other side.
“Yeah, m’good.”
The door cracks open quietly as Felix steps back in. Chris can’t see anything, but he can generally sense where Felix is around him, which feels bizarre. The sheet sitting around his waist is slowly pulled up to his back, and then Felix is in front of him by his head.
Two hands settle on his shoulders, gradually applying pressure. Chris exhales all the air in his lungs instantly. Felix slides his hands down both sides of Chris' spine, keeping the pressure steady in the heels of his palms. God, this is already so grounding, like a weighted blanket conforming to every dip in his spine and curve in his waist.
Felix lets his hands settle at the base of Chris' back, pressing into the plush above his hip bones and rocking the pressure back and forth between both hands. He starts making his way back up slowly, pushing small circles into his lower back, above his ribs, between his shoulder blades. It’s like Felix is taking stock of Chris' body, mapping out his muscles before pulling the sheet back. Felix’s palms put pressure on the tops of his exposed shoulders, kneading into the skin a few times.
“How’s the pressure?” Felix asks. His voice is softer now, closer to a whisper, but it nearly sends a chill down Chris' body. Husk, bass, resonance without even trying.
“Good, really good,” Chris says. He feels like he’s melting already. Hyunjin would be right about his brain shutting off for an hour — and it would, in any other circumstance — but he can’t stop thinking about what Felix must look like right now, towering above him.
“Good. Let me know if you need me to go harder or softer, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Felix’s hands come back down to the center of Chris' back. He flattens the sheet over his skin a few times, then lets them rest there. He doesn’t apply any pressure yet, just turns the heels of his palms inward to target the muscles lining Chris' spine. “I’m gonna have you take a deep breath for me, okay?”
“Mhm.”
“Breathe in,” Felix says, low in his chest. As Chris breathes in, Felix’s palms start applying some pressure. “Good. Breathe out.”
Chris lets the breath out slowly. As he relaxes against the table, Felix leans his body weight forward and pushes his palms harder than before. Chris' back cracks with the force of it, and before he can react, Felix moves down his back a couple centimeters and gently cracks his back again.
“Shit,” Chris laughs, startled. “Is that supposed to happen?”
“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t,” Felix says. He seems amused by the sound of it. He runs his hands back up to Chan’s neck, massaging the bare skin slowly. “I had a feeling that you’d need a good back crack, though.”
Chris hums, melting further into Felix’s touch. “My friend said my back probably feels like a mountain range with all the knots,” he mumbles.
Felix properly giggles at that. He circles to the side of the table, pulling the sheet back with him. “You’re a bit tense, yeah.” He softly tucks the sheet into the waistband of Chris' underwear. “You probably sit at a computer all day, right?”
Chris shivers at the sudden chill on his bare back. “Yeah, how do you know?”
“You’ve got some tightness in your lower back.” Felix places his warm hands on the small of Chris' back, right above his tailbone. “Right there.”
“You can tell from my lower back?” Come to think of it, there’s usually a dull ache back there, but Chris has gotten used to it by this point.
“Yep. And let me see…” Felix circles his hands around Chris' left forearm, kneading the muscles a few times before leaning over his body to do the same to his right forearm. “Yeah, my guess is that you’re right-handed and you use your mouse a lot.”
“What the fuck,” Chris mutters, flexing his right hand a few times. “Are you psychic?”
“If only,” Felix chuckles. “You just start learning how muscles behave when you massage 30 clients a week.”
“I’m choosing to believe you’re magical or something.”
Chris hears some pumping sounds, probably the bottle of oil hanging from Felix’s hip. He’s proven right when Felix’s hands start slathering the oil up and down the expanse of his back. When Felix applies pressure again, the glide down his back is much easier. His hands feel so warm.
“So, what do you do? Desk job?”
“I produce music,” Chris says. He’s here to forget about work, not talk about it, so he leaves it vague. “So yeah, lots of screen time.”
“That’s so cool. I’m a huge music person,” Felix says. Thankfully, he doesn’t pry any further. “Gotta get you to do some forearm and wrist stretches, yeah?”
“You’ll have to teach me what to do sometime.”
Felix drags his hand up Chris’ side, pressing his thumb into the muscle by his spine as he does. He goes slow, not responding for a moment, and the air feels a little weighted. “You’ll just have to come back and see me again,” he says finally. “I’ll give you all the tips and tricks I know.”
Chris resists the urge to groan as Felix starts really working his tight muscles. “It’s a date, then,” he breathes, too blissed out to think his words through.
The song changes to another slow, tranquil song as the conversation dies down. Usually Chris would find spa music boring, but as Felix starts paying extra attention to that alleged mountain range, Chris’ body relaxes more than it has in years. Felix takes his arm and slowly folds it behind his back to open the space beneath the shoulder blade, his thumb catching onto the knots as he slides it down the valley. The hand pinning Chris’ wrist to his middle back feels electric, and it’s almost a mercy when Felix releases his arms and tucks them back under the blankets.
Felix takes his time on the rest of Chris’ back, working over little sections until Chris can feel the knots untangling under the skin. If Felix digs a little too deep, he always rubs a gentle hand over that spot a few times to calm the nerves down. Tender, like he’s pressing a kiss against Chris’ skin in apology. When he’s done with his back, he pulls the sheet back up to keep him warm.
Felix pulls each arm out back out from under the blanket — first the left, and then the (apparently troubled) right. He targets Chris’ forearms, muttering a quiet apology when he hits a tender spot on his wrist. He takes Chris’ hands into his own, massaging the center of his palms, then laces their fingers together to shake out any leftover tenseness in his wrists. Chris hopes Felix can’t tell that he has goosebumps over his arms. His hands just feel even softer when they’re hand-in-hand.
The thing is, Felix never stops touching him for a moment. As he circles the massage table to start on Chris’ legs, he rests a hand on his lower back, swiveling on his fingertips — for that moment, Chris is the sun and Felix is the planet orbiting around him.
He pulls the sheet over one of Chris’ legs, exposing all the way up to where his boxer briefs land underneath the swell of his ass. It feels amazing when he starts working out the tightness in his calves, but the farther up Felix’s hands go, the more nervous Chris gets. Soft hands massage into the meat of his thighs, and by the time Felix is finished with his second thigh, Chris can tell he has an issue. Thank god he’s lying on his front.
Well, until—
“Flip over for me?”
Felix is holding the sheet up a bit to give Chris space to roll onto his back.
Chris swallows, heat draining from his face. Panicked, he says, “I mean, I don’t mind staying like this.”
“There’s a bunch of spots I can’t reach though.”
“It’s okay! Really, I, um— this is fine.”
Felix stops for a moment, dropping the sheet back onto Chris’ back. Then, he clicks his tongue and says, “Ahhh. Do you have a problem down there?”
Chris whines pitifully. “Oh my god.”
Felix lets out a bright laugh, but he doesn’t sound like he’s laughing at Chris. “Hey, it’s totally normal. A massage is a stimulating experience and I see, like, at least five boners a week.”
“For real?” Chris asks. He feels only minutely less mortified now.
“Trust me, it’s not a big deal. As long as a client doesn’t start, like, harassing me then it’s literally part of the job,” Felix consoles. He rubs a comforting hand down Chris’ covered back again. “You don’t have to flip over if you don’t want to — your comfort is what’s important here — but I do give a mean scalp massage.”
Chris thinks it over for a few seconds. A scalp massage does sound nice. He groans, rolling himself over underneath the sheet. “Fiiiiine,” he mumbles.
“Don’t sound too excited,” Felix teases. “Scoot down a little.”
Chris does as he’s told, desperately trying to ignore the fact that he’s still half hard. And now his eyes are open, and he can see how fucking gorgeous Felix looks in this dim lighting again. There’s a little quirk to his lips as he fixes the sheet covering Chris back into place. Chris decides it’s safest to keep his eyes closed.
Felix moves back to where Chris’ head lies, unlatching the headrest from the table and setting it aside. Chris hears the sound of chair wheels rolling up behind him and Felix sits down.
“How about this,” Felix says, dropping his voice quieter again. It’s arguably worse for Chris like that. “I’ll skip the front of your legs and just spend a little extra time up here.”
“Okay,” Chris says with a little nod. “Yeah, cool.”
Felix pinches at Chris’ shoulders again a few times, working on them from a new angle. Chris lets Felix loll his head to one side, letting out a long breath through his nose as Felix thumbs at the side of his neck.
“Pressure still good?”
“Yeah,” Chris says. “I— sorry if I talked too much today. I feel like I was supposed to be quiet throughout all of this.”
Felix tuts softly. “I don’t mind at all.”
“Do people usually talk?”
“Depends,” Felix says, rolling Chris’s head to the other side and mirroring what he did before. “Some people are dead silent the entire time, some people fully fall asleep. Some people talk so much, I’m worried they think I’m a regular therapist instead of a massage therapist.”
Chris breathes a laugh. “Okay, that makes me feel better. You’re good at that.”
“What, giving massages?”
“That too. You’re also just good at making people feel comfortable,” Chris says. Felix rolls his head back to center, then circles his soft fingers against Chris’ cheekbones. “Oh, that’s nice.”
Felix swipes his fingers underneath Chris’ chin a few times, then runs a gentle finger in between his eyebrows. “Thank you,” he says. It sounds like he’s smiling. “You’ve been a delight as well.”
“Even though I deeply embarrassed myself?”
“You didn’t,” Felix reassures again. “Not at all.”
Chris grumbles a little, disbelieving. “If you say so.”
Felix threads his fingers into Chris’ hair from the back, scratching at his scalp a few times before spreading his fingers and applying pressure from his fingertips. He seems to hit all of the good pressure points at the same time, and Chris moans. He’s so weak for having his hair played with.
“Feels good?” Felix giggles, massaging into the same spots on his scalp a few more times. He brings his thumbs together and puts soft pressure on the center of Chris’ head, repetitive little presses in a line from his widow’s peak to the crown.
“Feels incredible, but god,” Chris says, pulling his arms out from the blanket to cover his face, “That was embarrassing. I can’t stop embarrassing myself in front of you, huh?”
Felix untangles his fingers and starts combing Chris’ hair back, raking his nails lightly as he does. “I’ve seen a lot on this job. You’d have to do something a lot more heinous for me to find you embarrassing.”
“More heinous than getting hard and moaning like a seasoned pornstar?”
“Oh yeah, that’s nothing,” Felix jokes along. “At least you sounded good doing it.”
Chris opens one eye, peering up at Felix upside down. There’s no way Felix is flirting with him. “Oh?”
“That was, uh, unprofessional. Forget I said that,” Felix says, chuckling nervously and shaking his head a little. He cups Chris’ chin, thumbing at his jawbone to get the joints to relax. “But yes, you’re fine. You’re one of the more charming clients I’ve had in a while.”
“In a while? Not ever?” Chris tries, half smiling. Felix’s fingers are so close to his mouth right now. He opens both eyes to get one more good look at him. “Damn. Guess I’ve gotta up my game.”
“Guess you’ve gotta come back to see me so you can officially take the throne,” Felix challenges, for the second time during the hour. Chris is inclined to accept. Felix looks up at the clock, then slowly pulls his hands away from Chris’ face and rolls his chair back. “That’s our session, you’re all finished.”
Chris stretches his arms out like a cat, yawning. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course.” Felix stands and opens the door behind him. “I’ll meet you outside, take your time getting redressed.”
Once Felix leaves the room, Chris has a proper moment to assess how he feels. He’s not sure he’s ever felt more relaxed in his life. With all the strength he can muster, he sits up, and the quiet music keeps him company as he pulls his clothes back on.
When opens the door, Felix is waiting for him a few feet away with a little plastic cup of water in his hands. He smiles wide, probably because of how sleepy and disheveled Chris must look right now. He’s so goddamn pretty. Holding out the cup, he offers, “Water?”
Chris takes it graciously, downing half of it in one go. “Thank you. Again.”
Felix walks them back to the front, holding the main door open for him. “Not too bad for a first massage?”
“It was better than I could have expected,” Chris says as he walks through the doorway. He feels a lot more bashful in the brightness of the waiting room. “Like I said, you’re good at this.”
Felix beams again, looking down at his shoes as he props the door open. “Well, hey. Come back anytime. Make sure to drink a lot of water today, because your muscles are probably tired and it never hurts to stay hydrated.”
“Will do,” Chris says, punctuating it by downing the last half of the water Felix gave him.
“Have a good day, Chris,” Felix says, a finality, and gives him a final courtesy handshake before disappearing back behind the door.
Hyunjin was right. Chris feels like he’s on cloud nine.
As he approaches the front desk, the woman behind the counter asks, “How was everything today?”
“Fantastic,” Chris says. “Felix is a miracle worker.”
“He’s the biggest sweetheart here,” the woman gushes. “Love that boy.”
Chris settles up his tab with the gift card in his wallet. Hyunjin loaded it with enough to cover a hefty tip, so Chris bleeds the card dry and calls it a day.
“Oh, by the way,” the woman says as Chris slides his wallet back in his pocket. “Would you like to go ahead and rebook your next session with us?”
The bell on the door jingles as Chris pushes it open, then clangs against the glass as the door falls shut behind him. He meets eyes with the woman behind the counter — a different one than last time, he notes — and smiles politely in greeting.
“Hi, how are you?” the woman asks politely as he steps up to countertop.
“Great, thanks. I have an appointment at 4 for Christopher?”
“Awesome,” she says, turning her attention to the computer in front of her. She clicks around a few times, then gives Chris a nod. “Alright, Christopher, you’re all checked in. Go ahead and have a seat, Felix will be right with you.”
Chris plops down into one of the waiting room chairs, the same one he sat in a week ago. He’s surprised that he’s here again so soon, but he booked this appointment while still riding the high of the last massage. He can’t be blamed for the decisions he makes while Felix-drunk.
He specifically asked for Felix when he booked the appointment. He couldn’t fathom not booking with him again. Hopefully Felix was being serious when he promised that Chris didn’t embarrass himself too badly, because Chris is dying to see him again, to hear that voice again.
Was Felix flirting with him last time? Sometimes Chris thinks he was. He doesn’t want to make assumptions, especially not when Felix is providing him a service and is paid to be nice, but the air felt a little charged toward the end of their session. Chris can only hope; maybe he’ll shoot his shot one day.
For now though, schoolboy crush aside, Chris is just as excited to get another massage. He can’t wait to relax again. As beautiful as Felix is, he’s just as skilled at his trade, and Chris’ shoulders have never felt better.
Chris looks up when he hears the handle to the door jiggle. Felix steps through, and the moment he meets Chris’ eyes, he smiles so wide that the corners of his eyes wrinkle up.
“Welcome back,” Felix says as Chris stands up. He opens the door wider and gestures a hand down the familiar hallway back. “Came back so soon?”
Chris crosses the threshold and follows Felix’s lead to his assigned room. “I had to claim my rightful spot as your most charming client,” he says in a near-whisper, not wanting to disturb the other rooms. “But also, it turns out that I enjoy getting massages, and I never noticed I had lower back issues until you pointed it out.”
Felix huffs a laugh through his nose, stopping in front of a room with a big ‘8’ hanging on the door. “In here,” he says. “We’ll get you all sorted out.”
Chris steps inside, already toeing off his shoes. “Same deal as last time?”
“Yep, face down. I’ll knock in a few.”
Time flies as Felix does his initial rub down over the sheet, warming up Chris’ muscles before getting to the good stuff. Chris melts into the touch the moment he feels Felix’s heavy hands, becomes one with the table, like the pull of gravity is heavier in this room.
Felix’s movements are almost like choreography, with every step of this hour-long routine planned and memorized. He rocks the heels of his palms down either side of Chris’ spine, rocking them back and forth as he walks the pressure lower, then tucks the sheet into the elastic of Chris’ underwear to keep it in place.
As expected, Felix’s hands work magic on his back. He asks Chris if he can use more pressure to really get those knots by his shoulder blades, and Chris agrees, only to hiss in pain as Felix fully uses his elbow to target the trouble spots. Felix coos softly at that, giggling through an apology and rubbing over the tender spot gently.
They talk a little more than they did the first time. Small talk, mostly — how Felix got into this job, how old they both are, even the damn World Cup rankings. Chris mentions that he’s always stressed out, which leads Felix to ask why, which leads to Chris talking about his job, which leads to bigger conversations about their surprisingly similar music tastes and hobbies. Before he knows it, half the session is done, and Felix is circling to the foot of the table to start on the legs.
It’s bad enough that Felix looks like that. Of course he has to have a great personality to boot.
“On a scale from 1 to 10,” Felix says as he works on the back of Chris’ calves, “how comfortable are you with a gluteal massage?”
“My glutes?” Chris turns his head in a failed attempt to look back at Felix. “You want to massage my butt?”
Felix snorts. “It’s important! Working on the gluteal muscles releases a lot of tension in your legs and your back, since it’s all, ya know, connected. It would be beneficial for that lower back pain, and you sit in a chair all day, so.”
Felix is doing his job; there’s nothing sexual about this request. Still, Chris’ face goes hot. He already had an issue when Felix touched his thighs last time, and he’s about to do it again, so Chris is already treading murky waters. He can’t guarantee his body won’t react the same way to having his ass kneaded.
Chris lifts himself onto his elbows and succeeds in looking back at Felix this time. “I’m fine with it, but it seems like you just want to touch my butt,” Chris says, obviously joking. Maybe a sad attempt at humor will ease the awkward tension.
Felix opens his mouth, then closes it, lips pressed together tightly to hold back a smile.
“Sorry,” Chris laughs. “Too far?”
“Not at all,” Felix replies, audibly amused. He pumps a little more massage oil into his hand, coats Chris’ calf, and presses the length of his forearm against the muscle. “I was going to make a joke that could potentially get me fired, so I’m just not going to say anything.”
“You can’t say that and then not say it.”
“No way.”
Chris scoffs. “Do you think I’m easily offended? I’ve probably said worse.”
Felix repositions his arm to the top of Chris’ thigh, then drags it down the muscles slowly. “You just seemed hesitant about it,” he starts. He lets the silence hang for a beat longer, then says with a smirk, “Don’t have much experience in assplay, do you?”
“I—” Chris’ mouth drops open, and he has to turn away from Felix before he goes into cardiac arrest. So this is where they’re at. His competitive side won’t let Felix have the last word, so with all the faux-bravado he can muster, he says, “Maybe not. Sounds like you do, though.”
“What gave it away?” Felix asks sarcastically. His voice makes it clear that he’s smiling. “The assplay joke, or the way my pants are cuffed bisexually?”
Chris chuckles. “Queer recognize queer, I guess.”
Felix hums, sounding happily surprised, and leaves it at that. He repeats what he did to Chris’ other leg, and yeah, Chris’ body likes feeling Felix’s soft hands on his thighs a little too much. A warmth has been pooling in his gut since Felix got his hands on him, and the longer Felix massages at his inner thigh, the worse his problem gets. He’s not given much respite after Felix covers his legs back up either; suddenly, Chris feels two palms pressing into his hips, his tailbone, the top of his ass.
Chris breathes sharply out through his nose as Felix’s hands work with expert muscle memory. He’s just doing his job, Chris reminds himself. This is nothing and it means nothing. It doesn’t make his cock any less hard though.
Felix presses his hips down into the table, drags the pressure down the swell of his ass, and it pushes Chris’ cock harder against the table. Chris chokes back a sound and hopes to god that Felix still thinks this is a normal reaction for him to have.
As good as it felt, Chris is relieved when Felix pulls away for a moment. But the sheet lifts from the table, and Chris knows what that means.
“Turn over for me,” Felix asks. His voice sounds darker than it did a few minutes ago.
Chris obliges. Felix gave him grace last time and didn’t work on the tops of Chris’ legs, but this time it doesn’t seem to be the case — Felix folds the sheet up to his mid-thighs, then re-ups on the oil. Chris wouldn’t have mentioned the fact that he’s hard, would have just hoped Felix would ignore it again, but now he feels like he has to.
“Sorry,” he rasps, “about…you know.”
“No need,” Felix says, focusing on Chris’ calf first. “At risk of sounding unprofessional again, I’ll take it as a compliment when it’s someone as handsome as you.”
He’s flirting. Felix is blatantly flirting with him now. “Nah, I’m nothing special,” Chris says, keeping his eyes closed. He’s trying to calm down, but his breath hitches when Felix’s hands move up to the top of his thigh. Now that it’s confirmed that the attraction is mutual, it’s easier to let words tumble out of his mouth. “M’not trying to come onto you while you’re working, but for what it’s worth, I’d be lying if I said my issue isn’t partially because you’re so…gorgeous.”
“Nothing special,” Felix fixates on. “Thank you, but come on. You’re so hot that I’m one bad decision away from risking my job.”
Chris closes his eyes tighter. The air in the room feels thicker in his lungs. “I mean, I wouldn’t snitch.”
Felix’s hands pause for a moment. He massages into the meat of the thigh, once, twice, then kneads deeper into the skin with purpose. He keeps his voice quiet and says, “We’re not that kind of massage place, you know. We don’t do, like, happy endings.”
“I know,” Chris says. His words are shaky. He’s still so hard. “I was never expecting anything, I promise.”
“Okay. Just wanted to make sure.” Felix’s hand grips a little tighter. Chris can hear his breath speeding up. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Like what? Flirting with a client?”
“Yeah.” Felix’s hand moves a little higher, testing the waters, then kneads into the skin again. “Or like. More.”
Chris swallows dryly. “I…can’t tell if you’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
A moan crawls up Chris’ throat. He tightens his jaw to keep it at bay. “Fuck, Felix.”
“I want to touch you so bad,” Felix says, low and hurried.
“Touch me, god, please touch me.”
With that permission, Felix moves. His hands slide under the sheet, tentatively pawing over Chris’ underwear and hooking his fingers into the waistband. As he pulls them down and off, Chris sits up on his forearms. He’s already sweaty, and the table warmer isn’t helping.
His head falls back as he feels a hand wrap around his cock, screwing his eyes shut. Felix’s hands are already slick with the massage oil, so the glide is instant. His hands are so fucking soft. Felix gives him a squeeze, then strokes upward with a twist of his wrist.
“Fuck,” Chris whispers. He already knows it’s going to be hard staying quiet, but the only thing between him and the other customers are thin walls and faint music.
Felix spreads Chris’ legs and leans onto the table, nearly climbing onto it. He starts stroking him faster, seemingly spurred on by Chris’ shaky breaths, and he lets out a low moan as if he’s the one getting pleasure from this.
Chris finds the strength to lift his head and open his eyes. There’s something about the sheet blocking the view of Felix’s hand that’s driving Chris nuts. He sits up straighter, holding an arm out to beckon Felix closer. “Come here, let me—”
Felix lifts himself onto the table, pulling the sheet away from Chris and dropping it to the floor. He straddles Chris’ thighs — thank god these tables are sturdy — and Chris pulls Felix closer by the neck until Felix’s mouth is on his.
It’s messy and hungry from the moment their lips meet. Chris is sure his lips are going to bruise. He wraps an arm around Felix’s waist, needing him so much fucking closer, and Felix hooks his arm around Chris' neck.
Felix’s other arm reaches down to his own hips. Chris hears a few pumps from the oil bottle on Felix’s belt, and without breaking the kiss, Felix’s hand comes back to Chris’ cock. There’s so much oil that it’s dripping down between his legs. Felix’s hands are fucking magic.
Chris would be more worried about Felix’s clothes getting stained with oil if there wasn’t so much plausible deniability with this job. Felix works with massage oil everyday. It’s bound to get on his clothes sometimes.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Felix pants into Chris’ mouth. He squeezes his hand over the head of Chris’ cock, smirking when his hips jolt. “If anyone finds out, I’m fucked.”
“Oh, you’ll be fucked regardless, I’ll make sure of it.” Chris smiles lazily, pressing their foreheads together. “Kind of hot though, right?”
Felix sucks in a breath, stroking him faster like the anticipation kicked him into overdrive. The wet sounds of his hand are unholy. “Yeah. God. You’ll fuck me?”
“I want you so bad, I feel like I’m on fire.”
At that, Felix pulls back and scrambles off the table. “You have to be so fucking quiet, Chris,” he hisses in warning, unclasping the belt from his hips and tossing it onto the table. “And you’d better not report me for this.”
“Don’t worry,” Chris whispers, swinging his legs off the side. He reaches out, tugs Felix by the front of the shirt, and brings him in for another kiss. “It wouldn’t be very beneficial for me to rat you out, considering I planned on asking you on a proper date after this.”
Chris can’t be sure, but even in the dim lighting, Felix looks like he’s close to blushing. “The answer is yes, absolutely,” Felix says, taking a step back. He pulls his shirt off over his head, letting it land wherever. “And next time, we can be as loud as we want, but right now I need you to bend me over this table.”
Chris gives himself a second to take a good look at Felix as he undresses. He’s a masterpiece. Chris wraps a hand around one of Felix’s arms — they’re surprisingly strong, carved along the lean muscle. “God, where’d all this come from?”
“When you massage people for seven hours a day, everyday is arm day,” Felix says, unbuttoning his pants. “It’s taxing on the body.”
“I’m sure,” Chris says. He runs his hand down the plane of Felix’s stomach, fingertips dipping into the valleys of his abs. He’s not sure why he’s so surprised that Felix is ripped. “And these?”
“12 years of taekwondo,” Felix says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing impressive. He pulls his pants and underwear down in one go, kicking them off to the side.
He’s already hard. Just from kissing Chris, just from touching him.
“God, you’re so hot,” Chris mumbles, hopping off the table and onto his feet. He takes Felix’s face in his hands and gives into the urge to kiss him again. He feels like he’s lucid dreaming, especially with the damn spa music still playing on loop. Felix clasps his arms around Chris' waist, and it feels nice that Felix seems to be enjoying this as much as he is. “How much time do we have?”
Felix looks at the clock on the wall. “14 minutes.”
“We can make that work.” Chris flips them around, pressing Felix’s hips back against the table. “Turn around for me, baby.”
Felix spins around, bending over the table and looking back at Chris. His cock is hard between his legs. It’s such a sight.
Chris whispers a curse under his breath, gripping one of Felix’s ass cheeks as the most feral part of him takes over. “Lube?”
“Ugh,” Felix scoffs, the evil little smile on his face offsetting any actual annoyance. He reaches across the table and drags his discarded belt closer to them. “Use the oil, silly.”
“Is that safe?”
“S’all natural.”
Fair enough, Chris thinks, then gets a few good pumps of oil into his hands. It’s more watery than regular lube, so all he can do is slather it across Felix’s entrance and coat his fingers in the process. Felix doesn’t seem to mind though — the moment Chris touches him, he buries his face into the crook of his elbow and exhales sharply.
Chris slides a finger deep inside of him, then a second not long after. Felix opens up for him so easily. For as deep as his voice is, his little pants sound so fucking cute — he’s so, so breathy, desperate to stifle his moans and keep quiet. Keep his job.
The pitiful little sound Felix chokes back when he’s stretched around a third finger makes Chris wish he could really take his time with this. He wants to explore Felix’s body for hours, wants to watch him writhe around against a real mattress. He needs to hear all the ways Felix’s voice sounds as he gets wrecked.
“Ready, Chris, m’ready,” Felix whispers, needy already. “Shit, please tell me you have a condom.”
“Hold tight,” Chris whispers back. He wipes the oil from his hands on the table, then rushes over to his pile of clothes. He digs his wallet out of his pants pocket, and god, he’s so glad he kept an emergency condom handy like Hyunjin suggested ages ago. Just in case, he’d said. He drops his wallet carelessly and tears into the foil.
When he turns back around, he sees Felix stroking himself off as he waits patiently. They haven’t gotten to the best part yet and Chris already can’t wait to ruin him again. He rolls the condom on as he saunters back, then places a hand on the small of Felix’s back. “Good?” he asks, teasing the head of his cock against Felix’s hole.
Felix lets out a shuddered breath, pushing his hips back eagerly. “Yeah, yes, please.”
Chris lines himself up, guides the head of his cock inside of him. There’s still enough massage oil on Felix, inside of Felix, so there’s little resistance. Chris wishes they had more time to make this last, wishes he could drag this out until Felix is begging for more, but they have less than ten minutes before Felix needs to walk out of this room.
He grips Felix’s hips, pushing in further, deeper. Felix feels so hot around him, and Chris is so tightly wound that he won’t last that long anyway. They’ll beat the clock, no problem.
Felix’s back arches as soon as Chris bottoms out. “God, yes. Shit, please, just— you can move, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“I like it rough,” Felix reassures hurriedly, fucking himself back onto Chris. “I’m good.”
Chris locks his jaw, as if that’ll help hold back the sounds he wants to make. He pulls out to the crown, then slides back in slowly. “Noted,” he grits through his teeth. “We’ll be exploring that later.”
When it’s clear that Felix can take it, he picks up his pace. There’s no time to waste on warming up. He’s got to be mindful of the telltale sound of skin-on-skin, but he makes it work, fucking into Felix with quicker thrusts but not letting himself bury in all the way. It’s still enough to jostle the table, and it’s enough to have Felix’s fingers clawing at the fitted sheet.
Even if they can’t go full force, it’s still so fucking good. Felix takes him like he was made to be bent in half and fucked. His eyes glaze over and his mouth parts obscenely, breathing sharply whenever he’s thrusted against the edge of the table. Chris can't help himself — he thrusts hard one good time, punching a gorgeous little sound out of Felix, and buries himself as deep as he can. He holds there for a beat, rolls his hips slowly, and Felix's knees buckle from the feeling.
Chris presses down between Felix’s shoulder blades, pushing him down into the table and giving him a taste of the roughness he said he liked. He holds him down by the base of his neck and picks up his speed again.
Felix’s eyes roll back, cheek pressed against the table. He's completely pliant under Chris. “Fuck, oh my g—”
“So good,” Chris whispers through ragged breaths. He wants to thread his fingers into Felix’s hair so bad, but he can’t leave Felix looking too fucked out. “Feels so fucking good. Can you touch yourself for me?”
Felix doesn’t answer out loud, just nods rapidly and brings a hand down to his cock. He strokes himself off fast, desperate, not even bothering to keep time with Chris’ thrusts. Chris can tell he’s getting close already with the way he’s clenching around him. Chris isn’t too far behind.
Felix’s body winds up, muscles tightening as he gets closer. His breathing goes still, holds air in his lungs for a few more thrusts, until his orgasm washes over him. His body goes limp against the table as his legs tremble. He has enough awareness to cover the head of his cock with his hand, coming all over his fingers instead of the floor. Chris can tell he’s working so hard to be quiet through it, all deep breathes and pitiful little whines instead of actual, cathartic moans. Chris wants to hear what he sounds like when they’re not at risk of getting caught.
Chris brings his hands to Felix’s hips again, pulling him back with each thrust. He’s losing his rhythm, but he doesn’t let up, keeping his pace as the heat builds in his stomach. When he comes, it hits him hard; Felix tight and warm around him is just too much. He slows, admiring the blissed out look on Felix’s face as they ride out the last of their highs.
They both allow themselves a few seconds to catch their breaths. Eventually, Chris pulls out, and Felix gathers the strength to wipe his cum-covered hand on the table’s fitted sheet. Chris assumes it’s going to get washed sooner rather than later anyway.
Chris strips the condom off, tying it tightly. “What, uh… what do I do with this?”
“Christ,” Felix mutters, taking the condom exasperatedly. He walks on wobbly legs to the other side of the room, grabs some tissues to wrap the condom in, and drops it in the tiny trash bin in the corner. He covers that with a few more tissues for good measure.
Felix starts looking a little more nervous. He glances up at the clock, then lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, three minutes left,” he says, both to Chris and to himself. He opens a little door on what Chris assumes is a towel warmer, pulls two towels out, and tosses one over to Chris. “I’ve never had a quickie that fast in my life.”
A warm, damp towel — perfect for cleaning up. Between this and the massage oil, Chris can’t think of a more convenient place to have a spur-of-the-moment hook up. “You having quickies like this often?” he teases, wiping off the thicker globs of oil around his pelvis.
“Of course not,” Felix says, hastily wiping himself off between his legs. “Not at work. Oh my god, I wouldn’t have even thought about it until you walked through the door last week. You’re a bad influence.”
Chris leans down to pick up his underwear. “I’m honored,” he chuckles. “I’d apologize for being a bad influence, but I’m not really that sorry.”
“Yeah, I can’t find it in myself to regret it.”
“Was it okay?”
“More than okay,” Felix says. He makes quick work of redressing; he needs to be out of the room before Chris does, so he’s rushing. He cards his fingers through his hair a couple times, then asks, “Do I look okay?”
“I mean, you’re probably the hottest person I’ve ever seen, so absolutely yes,” Chris says with a shrug. “But no, you don’t look too disheveled. Hopefully you don’t have to see your coworkers in broad daylight before your next client.”
Felix looks down at his feet, biting his bottom lip to hold back a smile. “Okay. Okay, cool.” He snaps his belt back around his hips and spins around to leave the room. “I’ve gotta go. Take your time, I’ll go get water and meet you out there in a few.”
“Hey, Felix, before you go…”
Felix turns his head back to Chris, hand already on the doorknob.
“I was serious about wanting to take you on a date,” Chris says. Nerves start bubbling up in his chest, which seems silly all things considering. “I know you already said yes, but I don’t know if that was, like… in the heat of the moment? So. Yeah. I would love to take you out sometime.”
Felix smiles for real this time. He shuffles back over to Chris, cupping his face and pecking him on the lips sweetly. “My answer is still yes. I’d really like that.”
With that, Felix slips out of the room, leaving Chris alone with the ambient spa music once again.
After he’s pulled his clothes back on, Chris catches a glimpse of himself in the small mirror hanging in the corner. He looks…flushed, and his hair is a mess, but thankfully he’s got the excuse of having gotten a massage. People have probably walked out looking worse.
He opens the door, and Felix is already standing there with a little plastic cup of water. He looks as stunning as ever, a little hazy-eyed and radiating with afterglow. It’s probably not obvious to others, but Chris can see it clear as day. His heart swells in his chest.
“How are you feeling, sir?” Felix plays up, handing Chris the cup.
“Amazing,” Chris says with a definitive nod. “Ten out of ten service. You should get a raise, actually.”
Felix rolls his eyes, but there’s fondness tugging at the corners of his mouth. He takes a cursory look up and down the hallway, then dips a hand into his back pocket. He pulls out a folded up yellow post-it note and slides it into Chris’ front pocket.
Chris raises his eyebrows in question.
“My number,” Felix says quietly. “For the date we’re going on.”
Chris pats his pocket. Safe and sound. “I’ll text you as soon as I leave.”
Felix walks Chris back up to the waiting room, leaving him with goodbye and a polite nod. Chris steps up to the counter and greets the same woman who checked him in earlier.
“How was everything?”
“It was wonderful, thank you,” Chris says, setting down his cup of water to grab his wallet. He hands over his card, and a few moments later, the pin pad dings with confirmation. The woman glances at the computer screen, double checking to make sure the payment went through.
“All set!” she says chipperly. She clicks around a few more times, then turns her attention back to Chris. “And would you like to go ahead and rebook your next session with us?”