Chapter Text
It’s been two months and Felix is either going insane or falling apart, or both at the same time.
It’s been two months since Felix had said it.
Since that night.
Since the first. “I am so sorry, Lix, but I’m straight.”
Since the mask had been donned, since the pitying gaze. The clenching of fists, the stiffening of shoulders.
Since the discomfort, the disgust. Maybe even anger.
Since the second, sad but firm, said through gritted teeth. “I’m straight, Lix.”
The first one had been an arrow straight through his heart.
And his heart had frozen with the second one.
Chan had paused, seeming unsure of his next step, but Felix had legitimately had no idea what to do. It had never occurred to him that Chan was straight, never had the thought arisen that those words would ever come out of his mouth.
There was the cuddling, for one.
The shared bed, for two. Every possible night they could manage it.
The looks. Quiet, intense, burning. Like Chan wanted to take him apart slowly and carefully before feverishly putting him back together.
The touches. A hand to his back, a finger flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes, a jacket being placed over his shivering shoulders.
But Chan is straight, and Felix is ice.
🐥🐥🐥
They hadn’t spoken.
They hadn’t even looked at each other in two months, and icicles had formed in Felix’s veins, black ice in his lungs, a constantly swirling ice storm in his head.
Chan had gotten up from the couch, stated his sexual orientation, twice, and waited for Felix to say something.
But Felix had stared at him, his eyes unseeing, blood seeping out of his vena cavae, replaced by glaciers calving loudly, echoing in his ears.
It had been difficult to hear through the hail storm in his chest, but Felix knows that Chan had said something quietly about leaving and getting Hyunjin for him. He knows only because he’d watched Chan throw one last regretful look at him and walk out the door, and Hyunjin had showed up fifteen minutes later.
That had been the last time they’d spoken.
There had been excuses. Everyone had noticed the sudden distance between the two of them, and Chan had done his due diligence with the explanations and justifications. Ensured he’d never be in the same room with him alone. Insisted that Changbin or Jisung direct him in the booth. Quietly argued with Minho to ensure the blocking had them on opposite sides of the stage.
Felix had been in a haze for the first month, unable to process, not truly taking in the way Chan had organized his life so that they would never be alone together. In his own frozen world, Felix had let Hyunjin and Jisung take care of him, had gone through the motions on a daily, weekly basis.
He’d been snapped out of the icy haze the day Chan’s attempts had failed. They had somehow ended up in the studio together, and Felix had later surmised that it had been the members who’d orchestrated it.
It hadn’t helped, despite their good intentions. Chan had hesitated once he’d noticed they were alone, and it had been that hesitation that had cut through the ice, even for just a moment.
“Just go,” Felix had tossed out angrily. Chan had blinked, surprised, and maybe hurt? But Felix hadn’t allowed himself to think about that possibility, had met Chan’s gaze for the first time in weeks with fire in his eyes, burning through the ice for a singular moment.
“Go.”
Chan had gone, the fire had put itself out, and the tendrils of ice had wrapped themselves over and through Felix again.