Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"What's this one?" Chris says, opening the next mess of tissue and bubble wrap. It's like unpacking the most delicate box of Christmas ornaments, if they were all made of lead. He'd almost dropped it when he first picked it up; he hadn't expected the one marked fragile to feel like a box of rocks.

"Crystals," Felix had corrected, helping to steady it while Chris adjusted his grip. "Not rocks."

The big grey one with the deep purple inside kind of looks like both, but the next he unwraps doesn't: it's almost colorless and shaped like an obelisk in a way that doesn't seem natural. Maybe it is. Maybe crystals can do that.

"Clear quartz," Felix says, placing it on the shelf. Right near the jar of affirmations. He'd had Chris take one and read it aloud: I trust myself to make the right decisions. Rarely. "It's for clarity and amplification."

"So I should bring some to my shows?" Chris jokes, just to get that look of faux annoyance.

"Of thought," Felix says. "And intention." He plucks the next rock from Chris's hand. It's a ruddy red until he holds it up to the light. "Garnet," he says, angling it so it shines. "For energy and passion. And removing inhibitions."

That seems right. It's the color of lipstick and temptation and private rooms. "Tequila works too."

He knew Felix was into this stuff, kind of, but he never knew how much. It's been years since they used to hole up in Felix's room to play video games. When Chris and Changbin got a place, Felix came to them instead. And when Changbin vacated to go build his love nest it only made sense for Felix to move in. So here he is, unpacking parts of himself that Chris has never seen, in the home they're going to share. Felix's kitchenware in the cupboards, his toiletries by the sink, and now his shelf of spiritual manifesting. Whatever that means.

The next one's another jar, this one not filled with paper or petals but a whitish power that shimmers blue. "Fairy dust?" Chris guesses. "Makes wishes come true?"

"Close," Felix tells him. "It's a love potion."

Chris laughs. Felix doesn't. "Really?"

Felix shrugs, looking down at the bottle in his hands. Tracing the label with his thumb. "That's what she said."

There's no reason for Chris's heart to beat harder at that. He doesn't believe in this. There's no such thing as a love potion. Not one Felix could buy in a shop off the high street from a woman wearing too many rings. "Does it work?" he hears himself saying. Not that he would use it if it did. He doesn't want to magic Felix into loving him.

But Felix does. Someone. Why else would he buy it?

Jealousy digs a pit in Chris's stomach, crawls its way in.

"Let's see," Felix says.

Chris ought to stop him from opening the jar, dipping his finger in. Rubbing it over his lip like so much glitter and licking it clean again.

He should. He doesn't. He watches instead, his chest moving like it's on a ventilator. Expanding, contracting, precise little breaths forced in and out of him.

"It's sweet," Felix says, sucking the rest off the tip of his finger. Chris could have done that. "I think it's mostly sugar."

"Helps the love potion go down," Chris says mechanically.

Felix grins, practically perfect. "In the most delightful way." He replaces the lid and sets the jar on the shelf, right next to the garnet. "Well?" he says. "Do you feel any different?"

Chris shakes his head. But he wouldn't, would he. He's always been in love with Felix. He doesn't know how it feels not to be.

What if he said yes. What if he let Felix believe he caused this. Then it wouldn't be Chris's fault, would it. "Do you?"

Felix licks his lips. There's still a sheen to them. They probably taste good. "Not yet," he says. "Maybe it needs a minute."

Chris is quiet as he pulls another bundle from the box, and this one does look like a rock. It's stripey and green, the prettiest thing you'd pull from a creek. But still a rock.

"Malachite," Felix says as he takes it. He turns it over in his hand; it's smooth, slides easily. Like a worry stone. "Absorbs negative energy."

Oh. It is a worry stone.

"You have a lot of that?" The rock looks big in Felix's small hand.

"Sometimes." Felix swallows. He keeps turning it, over and over. Doesn't elaborate. Doesn't say anything at all.

"Felix?" Chris says, after a minute has passed.

Felix blinks. "Sorry," he says. "I feel kind of dizzy."

Chris frowns. They have been at this all day, no breaks. "Sit down," he says. "I'll get you some water. And we should have dinner."

He stands to switch places, but Felix snatches at his shirt. The malachite drops to the ground. "No," he says. "Don't go." His eyes are trained on Chris's chest. When he lifts them, they're dark black.

"Felix," Chris says, holding him with both hands. "What's wrong?"

"I don't-" Felix's eyes swim around like they're looking for something to focus on. When they stop, roll back, there's only a second before he goes limp.

Chris might be holding him too hard. He can't tell. There's no feeling beneath his shoulders. All he knows is he keeps Felix upright, turns him around, rests him on the bed. "I'm calling an ambulance."

But Felix grabs him before he can leave. "No," he repeats, hand in Chris's shirt. "Just."

He's breathing normally at least, even if he can't get words out. That must be a good thing. No allergies. "Just what?"

Chris's collar digs into his neck as Felix pulls at it. "Come here," he says. "With me."

Chris shouldn't let himself be drawn in. He shouldn't be planting one knee on either side of Felix's body, leaning over him. Something's wrong. He needs to get help. Needs to get off of him.

"Lix," he says, brushing his hair from his forehead. Felix mewls and pushes into his hand, like a kitten whose eyes haven't opened yet. "Fuck, you're burning up."

Felix doesn't seem to hear him. "Feels nice," he says, pushing harder, plaintive note to his voice. "Chris."

"Felix." He's so warm. His skin, his body. Sweat beading on his forehead. This is wrong, this is-

Felix licks his lips, and Chris freezes. No. That can't be it. It's a stupid grift. Fucking. Pixy Stix in a pretty bottle, preying on believers and flush tourists. That's all it is. There's no such thing as a love potion.

Felix looks at him, flushed and glittering, and Chris cups his hand behind his head. "Felix."

"Chris." His voice is as watery as his eyes. "Please."

This isn't possible. Can't be right. Chris leans in anyway, just in case. If this is the thing that Felix needs. "Okay."

There's a crack in the center of the sound Felix lets out. Chris wants to swallow it down, seal it up. His mouth is on Felix. Kissing him. He does it once, slow, the way he's always wanted. On a night with just the two of them, and Felix as bright as the stars in the sky, and Chris would know it was time. He gets one soft, gentle press, and that's all the patience Felix has in him. His hands cup around the back of Chris's neck and pull him in, kissing so hard Chris thinks he splits his lip.

I'm sorry is all Chris can think before he bears down, gives in. Lets Felix's heat surround him.

Felix's legs catch around his back, his hips jerking while his nails bite into Chris's neck. "Please," Felix says, begs, pulling at him and pushing up. "Please."

Chris would give him whatever he wants. Always. Felix doesn't really want him, he knows that. Might hate him for this later. Probably should. But right now he's asking for it, and all Chris knows how to say is yes. "Yeah baby," he says, because Felix won't remember this. Overheated, fever-sick. "What do you need?"

"Please," Felix says, a sob that breaks Chris's heart. "Chris."

The sugar on his lips is turning to salt. Chris reaches behind him, takes Felix's hands in his. Pushes them down, over his head, onto the bed. Onto the comforter he helped Felix pull into position, over the sheets that were a gift from his mother. "Felix," he says. "Pay attention, just for a second. Okay?"

A needy sound bleats out of Felix's mouth. But he's meeting his gaze, so Chris takes it as agreement. "Can you tell me what you need?"

Felix takes a breath. Licks his lips. "I think," he says, strangely lucid. Still squirming. "I think I need you inside me. I can feel it, it-" His throat goes suction-tight. "It hurts."

It's not consent. It's nothing like it. No matter what kind of sick thrill spreads through him. Felix is asking under duress. But Chris can let the guilt drown him later. Right now, he has to give him this.

"Okay," he says. Steels himself, for tonight and everything after. "Okay."

He gives Felix one more kiss, then releases his wrists. Felix latches back, like he can have him through osmosis.

"Baby," Chris says. "Let me get your clothes off."

When he's imagined this - and he has, too often for someone who claims to be Felix's friend - it's been languid, reverent. Chris kissing Felix's skin as he uncovers it. A slow, tight fit. Felix's breathing ragged as he struggles to take him, but sighing as he slides home, like something's finally right. Like it's the only thing he wants to feel for the rest of his life.

In reality, he strips them quick, fights Felix's desperate hands to fumble up a bottle of lotion. There are tears spilling down Felix's cheeks as he preps him. Chris is hard anyway. Of course he is. Ready to go while the person he supposedly loves is suffering. He's disgusting. It doesn't matter why he's doing this, Felix should never speak to him again.

The sigh that Felix lets out as he works himself in is so close to the fantasy he could almost pretend it's happening. Felix clinging to him, wanting him, loving him. No potion at the heart of it.

He stops as he bottoms out. Lets himself take Felix's face in both hands, trace the tear tracks down his temples. He can have this, just for a minute. A taste of what he's always wanted. "How's that?" he says. "Feel better?"

Felix nods, all the urgency drained from his face. Nothing left but purring contentment. "Thank you."

Chris smiles. "Of course, baby." For Felix he'd do anything. "Anytime."

He might have to really mean that. He doesn't know how this works, if this once will be enough. What if it's not. What if Felix keeps needing him, who knows how often, for the rest of their lives.

He shouldn't feel the idea tingling at the top of his spine.

Felix mirrors Chris's grip, gets his face in his hands. Slides them back into his hair, pets at it. His cock is nudging Chris's belly while Chris's throbs inside him. Maybe this is all he needs. Maybe they can stay right here, wrapped in each other, until the pain goes away. Maybe they could do it every night forever.

Felix is looking at him like he agrees with every thought in Chris's head. "I knew it would work," he says.

"Hm?" Felix's nails are scratching at his scalp. It feels good. "What would?"

"The potion," Felix says, like it's obvious.

Chris goes still. "What do you mean." Now he's the one getting dizzy. Felix can't be saying what he thinks he is. "You took it on purpose?"

"Yes." Felix arches his back like a contented cat, tightens up around him. "And now I have you."

Chris's heart starts pumping backwards. His blood is going the wrong direction. His fingers are numb. "You already did."

"Maybe." Felix's thumb traces along the shell of his ear, just the way Chris has let himself touch him. "I made sure of it." He grimaces, lifts his hips. "I think you need to move," he says. "It's starting to hurt again."