Archive of Our Own

Festival Felix. Hyunjin had seen the term across every social media platform available for weeks. Well, technically, for years, but it naturally picked up steam the closer they got to an actual festival. He could hardly blame the fans – a Festival Felix was something of a supernova, all glittery skin and fiery gaze and pink tongue and glittery skin and skin and so much skin.

He's been inside Felix, but even he can admit that he's watched Lolla and Gov Ball footage a thousand times over. He's watched it at point-five speed. He's zoomed in.

Festival Felix is defrosting, the fans say, and it's funny, because that was not the experience Hyunjin ever had leading up to a set. His experience was travel-Felix – a little tired, a little nervous, a little giddy, a lot cute. Especially when they'd get to a hotel and he'd wrap himself up, post-shower, in a fluffy robe and insist upon ordering room service. He'd demand Disney movies on the TV, cuddling beneath the luxurious blankets of the king beds.

From where Hyunjin sat (or lay, because cuddling meant he ended up playing the role of a very happy human mattress), a supposedly-defrosting Festival Felix was the picture of cozy cuteness.

And … maybe that's part of the problem. Hyunjin bears witness to all sides of Felix, including the sides the fans don't see. Like airport Felix, who just wants to stock up on snacks before a flight, or hotel Felix, who loves dragging the members to a pool, if available, and demands movie nights with room service afterwards. Or pre-show jitters Felix, who gets clingier and clingier as the day goes on, regardless of whether they're playing a concert or an award show or a festival.

He's seen the term before, but it's been on his mind in the lead up to Rick in Rio. Festival Felix exists, but is it intentional? Does Felix know how wild he gets? Does he know what is does to people when he storms the stage like sunshine-and-sex in a human body?

He asks when they're in the cars from the airport to their hotel. Everyone is at the level of sleepiness that has turned them a bit manic, all overlapping jokes that drown out his hushed question.

"What's the deal with Festival Felix?"

Felix blinks rapidly. His lids are heavy, and he's leaning entirely against Hyunjin's shoulder. His mouth quirks in a confused smile.

"Uh, it sounds like it's me at a festival? Definitionally?"

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and shows Felix his phone. He has a post up on Twitter (God bless his burner account), an edit of half-shirtless, narrow-eyed Felix from Gov Ball.

"You're defrosting, apparently," Hyunjin says. Felix ducks his head. A charming shade of pink is creeping up his cheeks. Hyunjin tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ears, then drags his finger beneath Felix's chin until those enormous brown eyes meet his.

"Oh come on, you know exactly what you do when you go out on those stages."

Felix raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What do I do, Hyunjin?"

Jisung glances over his headrest to the back seat and rolls his eyes, nose wrinkling. "You break the internet, dumbass."

Felix sticks out his tongue.

It's only much later, when they're both showered, and the lights are off, and Felix's breaths are slow, that Hyunjin brings the topic back up.

"Do you know you do it?" Hyunjin asks. Felix hums in confusion. "Do you know you turn into Festival Felix?"

Felix laughs sleepily and turns his head; it's dark in the hotel room, and Hyunjin can only make out the vague silhouette of his cheek and nose, the shine of his enormous eyes.

"Hyunjin, I don't turn into Festival Felix."

"Oh yeah?" Hyunjin asks lowly. "Then what do you call it when you tear off your shirt on stage? Or pour an entire bottle of water on top of yourself?"

"Jinnie," Felix squirms, a little shy, but Hyunjin is fairly certain it's put-upon. Felix loves to weaponize a pair of puppy dog eyes or a pout. It's for your corruption kink, he teased Hyunjin once, and that was the closest he'd ever come to acknowledging that he wasn't always the innocent little Angel he pretended to be. "I don't."

"You flirt with me more," Hyunjin whispers. "At the festivals. You're touchier."

"Or maybe you're just hornier," Felix teases. "Besides, I wouldn't flirt with you on a stage as big as Rock in Rio's."

"Yeah, you would," Hyunjin snorts. Felix grins, a small, mischievous thing. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and pulls him closer until Felix's back is flush against his chest, until his breath tickles the hairs above his ear. "I don't know, Baby. Everyone says Festival Felix is thawing right this very second."

Felix bats his lashes and pulls Hyunjin's arm more tightly across his chest, his fingers idly tracing the curve of Hyunjin's rings. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm no different at festivals than at any other show."

"Sure," Hyunjin huffs. He closes his eyes and buries his face against the back of Felix's neck. "Goodnight, Angel."

Felix's voice is soft, sleepy, so fucking innocent when he says:

"Goodnight, Hyung."

Soft, sleepy, innocent, but absolutely bratty. So much so that Hyunjin forgets to respond, and Felix is out like a light within seconds. Hyunjin watches the gentle rise and fall of his body, willing the flicker of arousal to settle and dissipate.

He wonders if maybe the fans are right. Maybe Festival Felix really does thaw.

He wonders if, by bringing it up, he's set himself up to be caught in the spotlight of Festival Felix's power.

He wonders if he's created a monster.

The period of time between waking and the actual show moves more quickly than should be possible. It feels like mere seconds have passed after their sleepy, nonverbal group breakfast before they're getting final makeup and hair touch-ups backstage, the roar of the crowd so much louder than Hyunjin knew a crowd could be.

They're all thrumming with an energy that flows between the eight of them like a sentient, transient thing. He sees it in the way Jisung keeps bouncing on his toes, the way Changbin gets louder and sillier; the way Minho's hands and feet twitch as he mentally runs through choreography, and the way Chan keeps counting them, like he is helpless to not confirm their collective presence. He sees it in Seungmin's unbridled smile, in Innie's jittery, pinched-brow nervousness. He sees it in himself, the way he cannot stand still for the life of him.

And he sees it in Felix, who is shimmery and pretty and decidedly less Bambi-eyed now than he was that morning. And when Hyunjin walks before him to stand in line, seconds before they'll head out towards the stage, Felix's fingers follow, a barely-there caress along his shoulder, down his arm. It's hardly more than a brush of contact, but it feels electric.

Hyunjin stumbles and looks back, just to find Felix smiling that same, mischievous smile he'd worn in the van.

Heat doesn't pool in his gut; there's too much anticipation in his body. But it does flare across him, familiar and maybe a little dangerous … Because Felix teases, and he taunts, and he brats, but Hyunjin doesn't normally feel quite this flustered as a response. He can't name what difference there is now. It's not like when Felix has teased him in public before – with a filthy, whispered taunt in his ear, or a purposefully erotic touch angled so the camera won't catch it – to rile Hyunjin up, to make him snap. All he did was touch Hyunjin's arm.

And Hyunjin feels like he's forgotten how to speak.

"Uh, oh," Changbin snorts, eyes sparkly as they jump between Hyunjin and Felix.

"What?" Hyunjin asks.

"Festival Felix is awake," Changbin grins. "And something tells me you're not getting out unscathed."

There's no time for Hyunjin to do more than stare at Changbin before the music starts and they're moving, and then everything is so much more. Screaming and smiling, energy that starts at a hundred and does not go lower. It's what Hyunjin loves about a festival – they go wild, abandoning choreo in favor of jumping and headbanging. They storm barricades, much to security's dismay. They fling water onto the crowds. They scream the lyrics as much as they sing them.

Somewhere along the way, Hyunjin realizes Changbin was right. Festival Felix is awake, and he is luminescent. Literally. The Rio air is humid, and sweat paints all eight of them in a sheen of moisture. Hyunjin is well aware of each and every drop beading down his neck, clinging to his hair, darkening the neck of his tank top.

(And Felix, he can tell, is well aware as well – in a fleeting moment when they drift into each other's orbit on stage, and Felix briefly turns his back to the audience, that striking gaze drags itself across Hyunjin's body, and not even the contacts can mask the way his pupils dilate.

Hyunjin lets his grin sharpen into something knowing and hungry.

Felix's tongue swipes against his lower lip.

Hyunjin wonders if publicly penetrating his boyfriend on stage could pass off as artful, if not daring, choreography.)

They don't even touch, not for the majority of the set. But they're watching each other. Hyunjin feels Felix looking with every body roll executed and every gesture of his hands that is far more sensual than a mere wave of fingers should be. Hyunjin watches back, enraptured by the way Felix allows his eyes to roll back as if by accident, the way he stares down the bridge of his nose like something feline; the way he moves his hips. Fuck, the way he moves his hips–

They don't touch, but Hyunjin feels like his very blood is increasing in temperature, because the tension that is building between them both with every moment of eye contact is a heavy weight; Hyunjin thinks he could taste it on his tongue if he tried – salty and sharp, sweet because it's Felix, molasses-thick with anticipation. It's almost teasing.

It's almost teasing, until it is just objectively teasing.

Hyunjin is sweat-drenched, and his body aches in that gratifying way it always does towards the end of a performance, and he can't decide what he wants more – to stay on the stage, or to drag Felix backstage – when he sees him. Not just Felix-of-Stray Kids, not just Felix himself.

Festival Lix.

Not in the crowd, not flinging water on fans or on himself, not pulling a vest open or lifting the fabric of his shirt above rippling abs, but walking towards him. Parallel to the crowd, his hips swaying, his mouth parted and curling into a smirk. And Hyunjin feels pinned in place, which is wild, because he's on stage in a crowd so large he can hardly comprehend the total number, and yet he couldn't move if he tried.

Is this how the fans feel when he rushes barricade? Hyunjin wonders. Is Lee Felix this powerful, and if so, how in the world is he allowed to walk the streets?

"Hyunjin!"

Felix's voice is sonorous and raspy, his eyes bright, and his hand small but hot where it lands on Hyunjin's shoulder.

Hyunjin tries to answer. He really truly does.

Felix's mouth twitches; he's biting back a smile.

"Do you want one more?" He adds.

When you're dating not just an idol, but your fellow band member, you learn how to communicate through the intricacies of microexpressions and how to read those intricacies in turn. It means that Hyunjin sees the mischievous – no, bratty – sparkle in the sharp point of his incisor, in the narrowed slant of his eyes.

Felix's body is fiery and damp where it presses against his, all lithe, twitching muscles; he smells like himself – a lemony vanilla shampoo he's taken to using, the woodsy hint of cologne that Hyunjin's taken to using (and that ends up on Felix as a result). Hyunjin wants to pin his wrists in his grip until his fingerprints are a bruised bracelet. He wants to taste that sinful little grin. He wants to watch Felix tease and tempt, and then he wants to flip the script and tease him right back.

Felix is a greedy creature.

But Hyunjin? Hyunjin hungers.

And suddenly he realizes that he is rock hard in his jeans.

A hundred-thirty-thousand people, Innie had breathed backstage, like the number was a concept only just discovered by humanity. A hundred and thirty thousand people, and Hyunjin stands before them with blood decidedly not in his head, but a desperate need to be in the man who is mere millimeters away from him.

He has no clue how he manages to respond, and that's just as well, because the response he does manage is a helpless laugh.

"Yes," he hears himself say.

He has no clue what he's saying yes to. A song, sure. But maybe more; maybe forever.

Definitely tonight.

Felix – menace he is – grins all the more sweetly. His eyes flicker down.

The sucrose of his smile simmers.

"Hyunjin wants one more!" He yells to the crowd; the response is a tsunami of screams, the sound electric and invigorating. And amongst it all, that hunger curls like a living thing in his gut.

I, he thinks, when he spots the radiant sight of Festival Felix on the enormous screen, am going to ruin him.

"Do you want one more?"

How many times had he said it – no, screamed it – over the course of the set. More times than he could count, that's for sure, but in Felix's defense, he's been riding a high of adrenaline that has rid him of conscious thought. One more song, one more explosion of energy, one more moment together in their join chaos.

One more moment of watching Hyunjin be Hyunjin.

When they finally leave the stage, they're an eight-person knot of smiles and breathless laughter. Hands clap their shoulders, and congratulations rain down like a confetti burst of Portuguese, of Korean, of English.

He wants to get out of his clothes. He wants to chug three bottles of water. He wants food and a shower, maybe a drink, maybe several drinks. He wants to lie down. He wants to sprint back onto the stage.

He wants …

I don't know what you're talking about, he'd told Hyunjin last night. I'm no different at festivals than at any other show.

Hyunjin's gaze has carried weight and heat in equal measure for the entire set, but since that greedy moment on stage, it's been nothing short of incendiary. Felix's stomach flutters with anticipation. He knows that Hyunjin knows Felix was teasing him; hell, Jisung once said that Hyunjin and Felix's onstage interactions were a form of foreplay, and Felix couldn't find it in him to disagree, because it felt accurate.

They're ushered off stage and towards a separate room, filled with food and water and celebratory pours of champagne. But before Felix can even step through the doorway, he's being pulled to a stop. A hand around his wrist – first one, and then both – perfectly restrained by long, unyielding fingers.

He gasps, turns, and gasps again, because Hyunjin is staring at Felix like he's a four-course meal, and Hyunjin has been starving for months.

"That tracks," Seungmin says tiredly. He claps Felix on the shoulder as if wishing him luck, then bypasses him into the room.

The grip on his wrists is bruising, and Felix can hardly do more than inhale before he's being dragged not to the parking lot, but to the very dressing room they'd gotten ready in earlier that day. His vision nearly spins, but he's clear-headed enough to see the moment Hyunjin closes the door.

He sees it in the reflection of the mirror. Sees the way Hyunjin's gaze has grown dark, the way his chest heaves through the sweat-damp, transparent material of his tanktop.

He doesn't see Hyunjin turn the lock on the door, but he hears it, and it's far louder than a lock has any right to be.

He holds his breath to keep his reactions at bay. He's not sure whether opening his mouth would result in another baiting tease, or an outright moan.

"Lixie," Hyunjin says.

Definitely a moan, Felix thinks. Hyunjin's voice is raspy, rough, and dangerous. Felix glances over his shoulder and lets his eyes go round and shiny.

"Jinnie?"

Hyunjin takes a step forward, slow and measured and predatory.

"You fucking brat," Hyunjin hisses. Felix flutters his lashes.

"Me?"

Yes, me, he thinks smugly. The overtly faux innocence only makes Hyunjin's eyes darken further.

Hyunjin scoffs, and then he's rushing forward. Just like before, Felix can hardly inhale before Hyunjin's lips crash against his own. He tastes salty from sweat, and Felix hums at the thought, at the feeling of his skin still slick from exertion.

It's not a bruising kiss; that would be too tepid a comparison, imply too equal an exchange. Felix is caught off guard, and it gives Hyunjin the in to all but consume him. One hand catches the back of Felix's hair, tugging it and sending sparks of pleasure-pain–pleasure radiating down his back, tilting Felix's head so he can deepen the kiss. Hyunjin's mouth is hot, and there's no build-up, no closed-to-open-mouthed teasing. It is all tongue and spit and, then, teeth, because Felix pulls back a bit and bites at the sinful swell of Hyunjin's lips. Hyunjin moans at the sensation. They're pressed so close together that Felix couldn't articulate where he ends and where Hyunjin begins. There's just shared heat, shared sweat, shared and building desperation.

But just as soon as he thinks he's got his footing back beneath him, the hand in his hair tightens, keeping him rooted in place when Hyunjin pulls back. He smirks at the whine that leaves Felix's mouth.

"Yes, you. You're absolutely a fucking brat," Hyunjin says lowly, and suddenly the hand not in his hair is winding between their bodies. He cups his hand over the front of Felix's pants. "And you're hard."

Felix barely holds a moan as Hyunjin squeezes him through the rough denim. He is hard, has been since he traced a drop of sweat as it raced down the column of Hyunjin's neck. How deranged to be jealous of a drop of sweat, and yet he had been on that stage. Deliriously so, even.

"'I'm no different at festivals,'" Hyunjin says, voice pitched far higher than Felix's own, and yet he knows he's being quoted. "You're such a liar, Angel."

Hyunjin's grip tightens, and Felix bites his lip; Hyunjin's eyes narrow, his other hand rising quickly, but his fingers gentle when they smooth over the spit-wet skin of his mouth.

"Don't do that," Hyunjin hisses, lips brushing against his ear. It sends shivers up his spine. "You want to act like a slut on stage, then you can sound like one now."

It's the name that makes Felix's mouth drop open. A broken whimper crackles up his throat.

Hyunjin's mouth is hot, wet, and devious as it moves from Felix's ear to his jaw, then down the column of his neck. He's careful not to leave marks, not there, but Felix knows that doesn't mean there won't be bruises and bite marks on the inside of his thigh come the end of his night.

Felix might have tried to play coy if they were back home, to act like he wasn't throbbing and desperate and twitching for Hyunjin to fill him, but the sheer adrenaline of the show makes him feel unhinged. His hands scramble for purchase around Hyunjin's back, nails dragging against the thin material of his tank top, and his body bows forward, seeking a friction that feels impossible to fully get through the material of his jeans.

"Jinnie, please," he pants when Hyunjin's teeth drag against his collarbone. "Please, need you, please–"

Hyunjin's hands find his waist as he guides them back, until the back of Felix's legs hits the vanity counter.

"Teasing me the whole fucking night." Hyunjin's hands flex hard enough to drag a gasp from Felix's lungs. He nudges his leg between Felix's, then tugs him forward. Felix gasps again, head falling back when Hyunjin's thigh presses against his erection. He can't help but roll his hips, the friction almost painful. "And look at you now – rutting against my leg like you're in heat."

"You're – ah – hard too," Felix counters, because he can see and feel the deliciously long line of Hyunjin's cock through his pants. It's straining against the material, and Felix's entire body tenses in anticipation.

"How could I not be?" Hyunjin whispers. At this point, it's hard to tell if it's his grip that has Felix rolling again and again onto his thigh, or if Felix is the one causing the movement. "When you look at me like you want me to take you in front of all those people?"

Felix's hips stutter, but Hyunjin forces him to maintain the relentless movement. Pleasure builds within him, and he'd be embarrassed at how his orgasm is sizzling at the edges of his senses if not for the fact that Hyunjin loves how sensitive he is. One of his hands skates up Felix's body, beneath his shirt, nails dragging at his skin before his thumb ghosts across his nipple.

"Or maybe that's what you were hoping for?" Hyunjin asks. "Wanted to push my buttons until I snapped, fucked you right there on that stage in front of a hundred thousand people?"

Felix shakes his head, but his movements pick up speed, giving him away. Hyunjin's grin grows sharper as he presses even closer so he bends above Felix.

"Oh, Angel, you shouldn't lie like that," he hisses. "I think that's exactly what you wanted me to do. You wanted me to show everyone that superstar Lee Felix turns into a desperate, needy whore the second I so much as touch you."

"Jin–" Felix pants. His release is no longer a horizon line, but a rapidly approaching tidal wave. Hyunjin groans like he can sense it, and his movements become even more purposeful.

"Just like that, Baby," Hyunjin whispers. He leans forward, forehead to forehead. "Show Hyung how pretty you are when you stop being a fucking brat. Show Hyung how pretty you are when you cum."

And for all the teasing, all the denial, Hyunjin's words seem to invade him at a cellular level; he cums with a moan that is closer to a shout, his body trembling as Hyunjin maintains the rhythm and movement of his body. His orgasm is electric, his senses on overload – the sheer pleasure offset so tantalizingly by the rough friction against his cock, the chill of drying sweat on his skin contrasting with the hot, wet rush of his release in his boxers, the trade of brattiness for helpless surrender.

Hyunjin watches him like he's something otherworldly, like he's a painting in a museum, like he's fragile in Hyunjin's hands, but that makes Hyunjin want to squeeze all the more tightly. His movements never stop, just slow, even as Felix's moans give way to hiccups of sensitivity.

"There you are," Hyunjin whispers.

Reverent. That's the word. Reverent in his hunger, hungry in his reverence, both truth and equal and so fucking much, and Felix can hardly do more than blink before Hyunjin is moving him – no, manhandling him. Hands to his waist, lifting Felix up, then flipping him so fast the room spins. It leaves Felix half-bent over the vanity, Hyunjin's body a hot, burning weight at his back.

"There you are," Hyunjin repeats, his mouth so close to Felix's ear that his lips brush his skin. There's already a considerable size difference between them both, but with Felix slightly bent and weak-kneed, and Hyunjin behind him, it looks all the more dramatic. It doesn't help that Felix looks, frankly, debauched – hair mussed and lips swollen, body flushed and eyes all-pupil – whereas Hyunjin looks like the intersection of control and consumption – stare unrelenting, breaths tight but measured, every muscle tense and rippling. 

He looks like a predator. 

Felix wonders if prey ever felt quite this aroused before their own slaughter. Hyunjin presses even closer. The bulge in his jeans is fire hot; Felix can feel the pulsing heat where it presses against him. Hyunjin’s hand snakes forward, ghosts against the front of his pants; he smirks when he feels the moisture seeping through the denim and when Felix hisses with sensitivity. 

His touch continues, a blazing heat that makes him feel shivery and warm in equal measure, until he’s loosely holding Felix’s jaw in his fingers. Hyunjin's hand is so big, fingers long and elegant, and they span the width of his face, his pinky ghosting against the pulse of his jugular. 

“Look at what you become for me,” Hyunjin hisses. “You thought you were in control out there, didn’t you? Little brat with all your flirting, and it only took three minutes before you were cumming in your jeans.” 

The condescension sinks over him, molten and decadent. 

"S’not my fault,” Felix forces the words out, a rasp that he knows is the consequence of his own screaming. He clears his throat, but the scratchy, breathy quality doesn’t leave. “You looked so fucking hot. C-couldn’t help it.” 

Hyunjin grinds against Felix, and whether or not it’s a conscious action, they both groan at the sensation. 

“Couldn’t help it,” Hyunjin repeats. “Of course you couldn’t. You’re just too needy, Baby–”

“–like you’re any better,” Felix punctuates his interruption with a grind of his ass against Hyunjin’s cock. “You couldn’t stop looking at me.” 

Hyunjin’s gaze darkens. Felix’s glitters. 

It feels so good to brat back, all the better because he knows Hyunjin expected him to be spent of teasing. And the best, because he knows Hyunjin will not let it slide. 

“Oh, Angel,” Hyunjin croons. He moves quickly and deftly – one second, his fingers are tightening around Felix’s jaw, and the next, they’re unzipping Felix’s jeans, shoving them down until they pool around his ankle. His underwear – a simple pair of light-blue Calvin Kleins – is dark at the front, soaked through. Hyunjin drags a finger up the line of Felix’s soft cock, and Felix whimpers at the almost-pain of too much. He doesn’t have a second to calm, though; Hyunjin peels his underwear down too, coos at the sight of his cum-covered cock, and wraps his hand around it. Every stroke makes sparks zip up his spine and burst behind his eyes, but there’s nowhere for him to go. 

He fucking loves it. 

“Made such a pretty mess for me, Sweetheart,” Hyunjin croons. “My Angel was just so pent up all night, huh?” 

“Hyunjin–” Felix whines. 

“You’re right,” Hyunjin ignores Felix’s squirming. “I couldn’t stop looking at you.” 

He pushes between Felix’s shoulders with his non-cum coated hand until Felix has to brace his elbows on the vanity counter to stay upright. 

“And you knew that,” Hyunjin practically purrs as he digs his nails down Felix’s back, stopping only when he reaches his ass. He nudges his foot in between Felix’s feet, pushes until Felix widens his stance. The stance, combined with Hyunjin’s ravenous stare reflected at him in the mirror, makes him feel exposed and vulnerable and so fucking slutty. “You knew I was watching my pretty boyfriend dance like that, looking like this. So really, you got yourself into this situation, Baby.” 

Felix almost says ‘what situation’, but then Hyunjin’s fingers – his fingers that are coated in Felix’s own cum – are pressing against his rim. Felix jolts forward, then gasps when the movement pushes his cock against the cool edge of the vanity, but jolting backwards just pushes the tip of Hyunjin’s index finger more insistently against his hole. 

“Jinnie–”

“Who’s Jinnie, Baby?” Hyunjin teases. 

Felix sniffles, even though his tears haven’t really built. It’s like muscle memory, a phantom ache – the promise of Hyunjin inside of him correlates with a pressure he knows will build behind his eyes. 

“Hyung,” he says. Hyunjin smiles. It’s still a smirk, but it’s also a smile, that same flicker of reverence. “Hyung, I–”

Hyunjin doesn’t let him finish even a little. His finger stops its teasing circles and pushes forward, pushes in, and ‘Hyung, I’ becomes–

“Hyung, ahh!” 

It’s too much. Felix just came. And yet, he widens his legs, hips twitched not away from sensation, but back. 

“Good boy,” Hyunjin croons. His finger moves more insistently, and it’s not more than ten seconds before another is nudging against his hole. Felix whines and whimpers, the sound pleading, but Hyunjin must know it’s not a plea for reprieve. The second finger is a stretch, but the sting is delicious. “Such a good boy, taking my fingers so well.” 

He angles them up, and Felix keens, dropping his head. He doesn’t get far – Hyunjin catches his hair in his fists and pulls his head up, forcing Felix’s heavy-lidded gaze to meet his own in the mirror. 

“Nuh-uh, don’t hide,” Hyunjin growls. He presses against Felix’s prostate again and Felix moans. “You didn’t hide from me on stage, so you don’t get to hide now. I wanna see your face when you fall apart on my fingers.” 

“It’s t-too soon,” Felix gasps. “Too much.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t slow his movements. If anything, his fingers pick up speed and pressure, and a third finger makes Felix yelp; makes him push back. 

“If it’s too much, then why are you trying to fuck yourself on my fingers?” Hyunjin asks cockily. He leans down. “Besides, what was it you asked me on stage–?” 

Felix is pinned in place. Hyunjin’s weight against his back. Hyunjin’s hand in his hair. Hyunjin’s fingers like an anchor. He is overwhelmed, a body of all sensation… but he’s also hard again, he realizes. He’s hard, and he couldn’t move if he wanted, and he doesn't want to move as is–

“–do you want one more?” Hyunjin quotes Felix. 

Three fingers now, stretching him, filling him, relentlessly pressing against his prostate with every pass. Felix can’t even hold his head up; it’s lifted only from the strength of Hyunjin’s hold, and he watches his boyfriend through sparks of pleasure. 

“You’re gonna give me one more, Baby,” Hyunjin growls. “Go on, give me one more.” 

Felix opens his mouth to say I can’t.

Instead, he cums again. Mouth open, tongue lolling, eyes threatening to roll back, and cock entirely untouched. White spots across the counter, more than seems possible given he just came five minutes ago. He clenches around Hyunjin’s fingers, his entire body tensing as his orgasm overtakes him. 

“Just like that, just like – fuck, Lix.” 

Hyunjin’s voice drifts over him like snow, gentle and soft, but electric all the same. His fingers slow, but they never stop, prolonging his pleasure until it bends back towards too much but in the best way. 

Felix blinks dazedly. His ears are ringing. His cock is twitching, still dripping. 

And his mouth is filled with saliva.

He doesn't push back so much as he slinks to the ground. His knees hit the floor, thuds that echo around the room. His jeans are still looped around his ankles, but he doesn't need to be unrestrained, he doesn't need to move – as soon as he's face to face with the obscene shape of Hyunjin's cock pressing against his pants, all he needs is the weight of it in his mouth, in his throat.

He blinks up at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin looks affected. There's no other word Felix could really think of using.

"Please," Felix whispers.

Hyunjin exhales shakily. His hand finds purchase in Felix's hair again, but not to tug. He pets the strands, still sweat-damp and tangled, and Felix leans into the contact.

"Please, what?"

"Please, please let me suck your cock," Felix begs. His hands scramble for the button, movements twitchy and clumsy in his post-orgasmic desperation. "Please, Hyung, please please please–"

"Fuck, good boy," Hyunjin laughs shakily.

Felix frees Hyunjin from the confines of his jeans with a small moan. Hyunjin's cock is so fucking big, and despite how many times Felix has had it at eye level, he's stunned every single time. It's rock hard and throbbing, the head flushed dark and shimmering with precum. Felix wraps his hand around the base because he knows Hyunjin loves seeing how he can barely reach. Sure enough, another bead of precum drips from his slit, and Felix eagerly leans forward to kitten-lick at his slit.

Hyunjin groans at the stimulation. Felix does it again, tiny laps of his tongue, the occasional click at the sensitive underside of his head. He loves sucking Hyunjin's cock, loves the sensation of controlling Hyunjin's pleasure combined with the sense of being used for that very pleasure.

"You're teasing again," Hyunjin breathes. Felix grins and licks along the most prominent vein on Hyunjin's shaft. Hyunjin's fingers tangle in his hair. "Brat."

"Yours."

"Mine," Hyunjin agrees. "So open that mouth of mine."

Felix's eyes flutter at the overt possession, but he obeys. Widening his mouth as much as he can, and it's always never enough. Hyunjin feeds his cock into Felix's mouth, moaning when a bubble of spit forms at the corner of his lips.

He sinks into the haze of being used with every millimeter of length that Hyunjin sinks into his mouth, and within seconds, Hyunjin is setting a pace just short of punishing. Felix doesn't dare close his eyes, too addicted to seeing Hyunjin's expression.

"Such a good mouth," Hyunjin whispers when he is fully seated in Felix's mouth, his nose pressed against his pubic hair. Felix feels a tear breach his lash line and Hyunjin's cock twitches in his throat. "Go on, Sweetheart. You asked, after all."

It's all the permission Felix needs. He sinks into the task of sucking Hyunjin off like it's all he's ever known to do. He knows he's messy with it, spit dripping onto his lips, his chin, tears racing down his face, throat spasming around the intrusion as he pulls his lips up Hyunjin's shaft and back down again. His tongue licks flat, wide stripes with every pass, relishing the feeling of every vein on the velvety skin.

Hyunjin pulls him off at one point and Felix straight up whimpers, fighting against the hand in his hair, mouth open and desperate. Hyunjin's cock twitches millimeters away, and Felix licks at air.

"You're such a slut for it, Lix," Hyunjin says. Felix blinks up at him, desperate and begging and void of language. If there are words in his mouth, there will be less room for Hyunjin's cock, after all. Hyunjin's breaths are heavy. He has his free hand pressed on the edge of the counter, like he's holding himself up. "So fucking messy, too. Maybe this is what you want to show them on stage. How messy you get when you're hungry for my cock?"

Felix nods desperately. Sure, why not – there are enough edits of Side Effects that look about as damning as if he were to drop to his knees mid-choreo. Would it really be so bad if they combined hair pulling with oral sex?

Hyunjin loosens his grip, and Felix moans as he swallows Hyunjin to the hilt.

"Tight fuckin' throat," Hyunjin breathes. And that's all the warning he gets before Hyunjin is cumming. Felix moans at the perfect taste of salt, and between that sound and Hyunjin's own moans, they hit a perfect harmony across the span of a full octave. Felix doesn't stop, keeps sucking and bobbing his head, keeps licking, keeps doing whatever he can to milk Hyunjin of every drop. Any release that doesn't pour directly down his throat, he keeps in his mouth.

Hyunjin has to pull Felix off of his cock – physically, a tug turns to a yank, and Felix's head snaps back.

"Open," Hyunjin whispers. Felix does, showing Hyunjin proof of his release on his tongue. Hyunjin licks his lips. "Swallow."

Felix does so with a low, satisfied hum. He wordlessly opens his mouth again, and Hyunjin presses his thumb against the wet pad of his tongue.

"Good little slut."

Suddenly he's upright. Upright and in the air, hoisted over Hyunjin's shoulder with his pants still looped around his legs. He gasps at the show of strength, at how easily Hyunjin moves him across the room and lays him stomach down on the small couch.

"Hyung?" He asks. Hyunjin doesn't answer, just yanks his hips until Felix is ass up, chest to the pillows, then shuffles behind Felix, out of view.

"You want one more?"

Hyunjin's repeated quote is breathy; the air hits his still twitching, still wet hole.

"I said yes, baby," Hyunjin reminds him. His lips drift towards his inner thigh, kissing and licking and sucking, hard and deep; the skin will be purple within minutes. "I want one more."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a giddy sort of realization hits him.

Hyunjin said one more. But he didn’t specify that they’d stop there. Just like Felix – it didn't necessarily end with one more.

Felix was talking about songs, though.

Hyunjin is talking about orgasms.

Suddenly, the wet heat of Hyunjin's tongue is pushing into him, and Felix surrenders himself to the knowledge that Hyunjin can do anything – including drive him to the edge of insanity.

He's lost count of how many orgasms he's dragged out of Felix – with this tongue on his hole, his mouth on his cock, his fingers in his ass – which means Felix has definitely lost count. And frankly it's a miracle he hasn't come yet; not when he has Felix on all fours on the couch, and his cock pressed so deep inside his body that Felix's very breath sounds changed.

He looks–

"So fucked out," he says aloud. He's not even sure if he's saying it to Felix, or if the words just spill from his lips unbidden. They're surrounded by mirrors, and it gives him a dozen front-row views of Felix's state – the reflection of his flushed cheeks and his tear-shiny eyes and his swollen lips in the mirror across from them; to his left, the sinful side-view of Felix's arched back, his hands flexing against the armrest, his body jolting with every punishing thrust; and as he drags his gaze away from the mirrors and down, he has a front row view to where they're joined – where Felix's pink, puckered rim stretches around the girth of Hyunjin's cock. Hyunjin groans, hips picking up speed.

"You go out there," Hyunjin growls in his ear. "You go out there, and you make a hundred thousand people fall in love with you, but they have no idea what a needy slut you turn into the second I get you alone."

He pulls Felix's hair again until his head tilts back, until Hyunjin can see the way his eyes roll back and his lips drop open, drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. Every thrust of Hyunjin's cock deep into Felix's body punches yet another sound from Felix's mouth and makes his hole clench desperately around Hyunjin's cock.

"Feel that?" Hyunjin murmurs teasingly. "Like you're sucking me in. Your body's made for me, Sweetheart."

"Yuh-huh," Felix babbles.

"Don't know why you act like such a brat when we both know you'll end up like this–" he punctuates his words with a particularly brutal thrust that makes the entire couch move. "–not a thought in that pretty fucking head. I think I finally fucked the brat out of you, yeah?"

"Hy-hyung," Felix pants.

"Hmm? You got something to say?"

"S-so deep," Felix moans. "S'too mu-huch–"

Too much. It's Felix's favorite refrain, and it's the opposite of a safeword or a yellow or red. Felix loves when he's pushed over the edge. He really loved when he's pushed even further, again and again, until he can barely make noises, let alone form a coherent thought.

But Hyunjin can tell they're rapidly approaching his limit. He can't even hold himself up; his cheek is pressed against the couch, chest too, arms long-since having collapsed beneath him somewhere around his fourth orgasm. Only Hyunjin's grip keeps his hips lofted. There are already bruises forming across his waist, his hips; pretty little smudges, like leaves or flower petals, and he'll get to watch them bloom across a spectrum of healing. Proof that he was here. Proof that he'll return here.

He was ashamed, once, at how much getting Felix like this – debauched, delirious, desperate but dependent entirely on Hyunjin – turned him on; thankfully, Felix confessed it turned him on just as much.

Hyunjin can tell he's hurtling towards his own orgasm at terrifying speed, but he'll stave it off if need be; he needs to get Felix over the edge one more time. He wants to feel his thoroughly-fucked whole clench around his cock again. He wants to see if Felix has anything left to give. At this point, he's been dripping onto the couch relentlessly, like he's trapped in an endless cycle of release. He's close, though – the signs are there in the small furrow between Felix's brow and the almost-imperceptible tightening around his cock.

Hyunjin's hips move even more furiously, and Felix practically mewls.

"Come on, Baby," Hyunjin murmurs. He leans over, caging Felix in with his arms on either side of him. He's just as sweaty as he was on stage at this point, and Felix is too. "One more. Give me one more."

Felix whimpers. Garbles, really – his mouth hasn't closed since Hyunjin started relentlessly pounding against his prostate.

"C-can't," Hyunjin makes out, just barely.

"You can," he growls back. "You can. You will. You're right there. Just give me one more, Angel, wanna feel you cum on my cock."

Felix clenches around him even more tightly. Hyunjin starts to snake a hand around and between Felix's legs, intent on stroking him towards his orgasm, but Felix shakes his head. Hyunjin sinks his teeth into the juncture of Felix's shoulder to keep from cumming then and there.

"No? You want to come just from Hyung's cock?"

"Please," Felix manages.

"So fucking perfect for me," Hyunjin praises. "Perfect hole, made just for my cock–"

"Yours–"

"Yes, mine," Hyunjin couldn't hold back the speed or depth of his thrusts if he tried, now. "Belong to me, made for me, all mine."

Felix's hand slides back until he can splay it across Hyunjin's own. Hyunjin loosens his fist so their fingers can slot together.

"In – in me?"

Fuck. "Of course, Baby. I'll cum inside of you, you just have to give me one more–"

Felix's breaths come faster and faster, pitchy and punctuated with the tonal edge of moans.

"I'll fill you up," Hyunjin promises. "Give you so much that it'll leak out of you all the way back to the hotel. I'll fucking breed you, Sweetheart –"

Felix moans at the notion, just like Hyunjin knew he would. Hyunjin licks a stripe up the sweat-salty column of his neck, catches his earlobe between his teeth, and says, "Maybe it'll take?"

He gets tighter – his hole, and every muscle, a trembling, desperate, greedy thing. Hyunjin is right there with him. Throbbing, hovering on the edge of pleasure. Hunger and greed. What a perfect match.

"Give me one more, Lix. It's what you promised, right?"

Felix does.

Felix's orgasm is loud. Loud, untouched, and somehow stronger than before. His mouth drops open with another moan, but one that seems to be dragged from the cage of his very ribs. Hyunjin groans when he feels Felix's hole clench impossibly tighter around his cock. More cum stripes the couch, the amount less, but the force explosive, and Felix's entire body spasms with the force of it.

"Please," Felix's moans taper into desperate, whispered begging. "Please, please, in me, please please please–"

Felix is a brat when he wants to be. A spoiled fucking brat who flirts on stage, who knows exactly what he's doing to the world, and Hyunjin most of all. He is all batted lashes and coy smiles.

And Hyunjin can't say no to him. Can't not give him anything he asks for. Including this.

He reaches his own orgasm with his teeth pressing against Felix's shoulder and a hunger that is finally sated. With a final, claiming thrust, a gasp of breath, and a burst of pleasure that feels like an inferno without the pain. With Felix's hole still clenching rhythmically around him and his cock still dripping.

He cums for what feels like ages, and he cums more than he knew possible. He feels Felix completely, feels when it starts to drip out of his hole, down the backs of his legs. His hips don't stop moving, just slow down, as he rides out his orgasm and helps Felix ride out his. Until he's not thrusting so much as grinding, pushing his release even deeper into Felix's body; until he stops moving altogether and goes slack, his weight pushing Felix flat against the couch.

They lay there for a moment that feels beyond time. Both of them wet with sweat and cum, both of them panting. Every once in a while, Hyunjin shifts, and Felix will clench around him as a response, but they don't separate.

"Told you," Hyunjin finally whispers.

"Hmm?" Felix hums.

"That I'd fuck the brat out of you."

Felix clenches again, and this time it's definitely purposeful. Hyunjin hisses into a laugh, and Felix turns his head so Hyunjin can see his grin.

"Or not," Hyunjin sighs.

"Guess you'll have to keep trying," Felix mumbles. His voice is deep, spent, and honey-sweet. Hyunjin leans down to kiss him, uncaring of the angle. It's a slow kiss, so at odds with their frantic make out when they'd entered the dressing room.

"Guess I will," Hyunjin whispers against his lips. "Might take a while, though."

"It really might," Felix agrees. He's so soft now, eyes heavy-lidded by sleep instead of lust, lips pink and bitten but settled into a soft smile. "Maybe forever?"

Hyunjin's chest burns with the promise. "I think forever works."

Hyunjin is always so, so gentle after sex, especially when the sex is rough and intense and physically (or emotionally) (or both physically and emotionally) demanding. It means that he apologizes softly when he pulls out, shushing Felix's whines with soft caresses to his hair. It means that he uses his t-shirt, not a scratchy towel from the venue's bathroom, to wipe away the sheer amount of cum that covers Felix's stomach, his chest, his thighs, his ass. It means that he helps Felix sit up and helps dress him in the soft, comfortable clothes he'd worn to the venue; he doesn't even tease Felix when his legs tremble, about as graceful and elegant as a newborn fawn.

It means he wordlessly gives Felix the hoodie he'd worn earlier that day. It smells like Hyunjin's cologne, like the natural scent of his skin. Warm in every conceivable way.

And all the while, he talks: he checks in ("Was that good for you? Does anything hurt? Are you thirsty – here, drink that entire water bottle, we'll get you tea before we leave.) and then, when they're both dressed and Felix has, indeed, downed an entire bottle of water, he pulls them both back onto the couch. Felix falls boneless against Hyunjin's chest, his hum of happiness closer to a purr than anything else. Hyunjin positions him carefully until Felix is functionally straddling him, face buried against Hyunjin's neck. Hyunjin wraps his arms around Felix, one hand running up and down Felix's back, the other scratching at the back of his head.

Hyunjin always ends by praising him, his voice as soft and soothing as rain, and now is no different. Felix lets the words wash over him. "You felt so good," and "Sounded so pretty for me," and "Never seen someone as beautiful as you, love how you are for me." "I love you," said a dozen times, until Felix regains enough strength to say it back. "I love you too." "I love you too." "I love you too."

When they get back to the hotel, Felix will flip the script. Tell Hyunjin how good it felt to be held down, to have his own pleasure in Hyunjin's hands; he'll tell Hyunjin that he was handsome and beautiful and sexy – in his control, and in its loss alike – and he'll tell Hyunjin that he made Felix feel slutty and needy and safe to feel both things. He'll tell Hyunjin how full Felix felt.

But at the present moment, it takes long enough for Felix to regain the use of his legs, let alone to wax poetic about his boyfriend's sexual prowess and unyielding care.

"M'hyun-gry," Felix sighs. Hyunjin laughs, a low rumble that jostles Felix. Felix sits up and side-eyes him.

"Did you just say 'hyung'-gry instead of hungry?"

Felix rolls his eyes and smiles. "My brain is soup."

"Your brain is in the gutter."

"Yeah, right there next to yours, I bet."

Hyunjin shrugs, like Felix isn't necessarily wrong. He helps Felix stand and wordlessly loops both of their bags over his shoulders, snorting when Felix tries to take his own.

"Let's focus on keeping you upright and awake to the car before we move onto lifting heavy objects." They head to the door, Hyunjin fumbling with the lock momentarily. "Do you want to order room service? Or we could try to pick something up on the way–"

The door opens, and they both freeze; because six people are staring back at them, expressions ranging from disgusted to unimpressed to devious to fond. Innie is decidedly on the 'disgusted' end of the spectrum. Chan is carrying the majority of the 'fond'.

"… back," Hyunjin finishes his sentence.

"Hey," Felix tries to school his face into something sweet and unsuspicious. "Wow, Hyunjin and I were just leaving, what good timing–"

"Uh-huh," Minho deadpans. His gaze moves across them both. Up-and-down, up-and-down.

"Such good timing," Seungmin adds dryly.

"Got here just in time to catch the grand finale," Jisung teases, brows waggling.

Changbin groans. "Some of us were trying not to listen, you know."

Chan sighs, but he's smiling nonetheless. "And some of us would like to change, pack up, and head back to the hotel together. Give us five minutes?"

"They owe us way more than five minutes," Innie grumbles.

Felix leans against Hyunjin, eyes fluttering against sleep the entire time. True to Chan's word, it doesn't take them longer than five-or-so minutes to pack up; he supposes that when you don't include five-plus orgasms in the mix, vacating venue premises is a pretty quick endeavor. The cars are pulled up outside the entrance, but the short walk still drags. Felix stumbles the whole way, Hyunjin's arm around his waist keeping him upright. When they tumble into the van, Felix wastes no time curling against his side, wincing a bit at the aches in his body. Jisung observes the reaction, brows raising.

"The fuck happened to him?" he asks.

"Just that – the 'fuck' happened to him," Changbin snorts. Felix sticks out his tongue. Hyunjin just groans, but he's grinning; if Felix was more alert, he'd tease Hyunjin for his overt possessive tendencies.

"I think he met the wrath of Festival Hyunjin," Seungmin points out.

"Festival Hyunjin?" Felix and Hyunjin both ask. Seungmin looks at the others, who all seem wildly amused.

"You didn't think you were the only one with a Festival alter ego, did you?" Chan raises a brow. Felix blinks and shakes his head.

"Please, Hyunjin body rolls, like, eighty times more at a festival show than at a regular concert," Minho says sagely.

"If Festival Felix defrosts, Festival Hyunjin is a slow boil," Changbin agrees.

"And if performing is your foreplay, a Festival is, like, slutty enough to be full exhibitionism," Innie says. He sounds like he wishes he didn't hold the knowledge.

"Thank you for waiting until you were behind a door with a lock to reach your final forms," Chan sighs. "Saves me a meeting about public fornication, at the very least."

Felix laughs softly and angles his head to look at Hyunjin. "Festival Hyunjin. I totally see it. I guess we match, then."

Hyunjin's lips twitch. "So you admit that you do have a festival persona?"

Felix might not have a lot of strength left in his body, but he still manages to jut out his lower lip and blink until he knows his eyes are huge and shiny. "I have no clue what you're talking about, Hyung."

The entire car groans, save a still-pouting Felix and a slow-grinning Hyunjin. He pulls Felix closer against his chest and rests his chin on Felix's shoulder so they can watch the devolving chaos around them.

"Such a brat," Hyunjin murmurs, too low to be heard by anyone but Felix.

"Your brat," Felix reminds him. He can hear Hyunjin's smile in his voice.

"And don't you forget it."

"Hmm, I don't know. I like when you remind me," Felix teases.

"Then I look forward to the next festival."

Felix closes his eyes and curls even closer to Hyunjin's chest. He mumbles, a low hum that he meant to be a 'I can't wait either.' The noise sounds a good bit closer to an 'I love you'.

And, as sleep finally drags him under, he finds himself thinking it's about as apt a response as anything else he might have said.