city of stars

L

He wakes up a while later. His head feels fuzzy, like the world around him is far away, beyond a screen of tv-like static. It's almost like he's floating in a dream, far removed from the real world around him. He doesn't stir, doesn't so much as sigh, but something shifts in the air and there's a hand against his forehead.

It's cool, but the icy coldness doesn't touch his skin, doesn't startle him awake fully. Instead the hand just hovers for a few seconds, as if checking for the heat radiating off him.

Dimly, Felix realizes he's in a car, and the hand looks familiar. Stained with charcoal, a thin coat of clear gloss on the nails that you wouldn't notice unless you were up close, a thin chain around the wrist.

He takes too long, and the hand is gone before he can realize why he feels like he knows it. Why he instantly relaxes at its presence.

Looking over, Felix dimly realizes the hand did not disappear, but rather dropped back to the steering wheel, turning the car around a corner.

His eyes stay there, on the man's hands, because asleep as he might be, even in this state, looking up to Hyunjin's face might break him. He couldn't do it – looking up meant confirming it was true. It was not a nightmare, and he was really there, in Hyunjin's car, sick and heading home with a man who did not remember him.

"You okay?" The words washed over him like waves crashing down on the shore, against the dashing rocks.

"Fine."

"Mm?"

"Positive." The word was ugly on his tongue, unwelcome in the small space between them.

He didn't look up, but he could feel Hyunjin's brows knit together, confused and a little concerned.

"You have a pretty high fever. Changbin wants you to take the rest of the day off. Do you have someone at home to take care of you?"

Did he? Not anymore. Not now that Hyunjin was... like this.

"Yes." He lied, voice thick. It wasn't even technically that much of a lie – he had Seungmin.

"Do you want to give him a call to see if he's home?"

Felix shook his head, his vision blurring a little as he did so. If Seungmin wasn't home, Hyunjin would stay, and he couldn't deal with that.

Even as they drove deeper into the City, quiet purr off the engine the only sound around them, Felix felt his head grow more and more heavy, until it dropped to the side slowly, and he leaned against the cold glass of the car window, closing his eyes so he wouldn't be attacked with the onslaught of flashes from the buildings passing by.

The thoughts swirling in his mind have become disjointed and light, like dandelion seeds, no clear direction as they flutter down, passing through his mind randomly with no rhythm or rhyme to the feeling.

He can feel them getting closer to his apartment, closer to parting. It draws a wounded sound from him as that thought eclipses all others.

Hyunjin hears him, and there's a sharp intake of breath in response, like Felix's pain echoes in the other's chest all the same. A moment later, a warm hand settles on his thigh, grounding him in the moment, like an anchor keeping him from being carried away, washed by the unrelenting waves of his worries, torn from reality by the cruel winds of his thoughts.

Hyunjin doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. It's never about his words; his sheer presence had the power to make everything else fade into the background, insignificant by comparison.

One of their phones buzzes on the dashboard, and Hyunjin's hand disappears momentarily. Without its weight and warmth, Felix is floating again.

"Lix-ah." The name almost breaks him anew. "I'm taking you home with me. Okay?"

He couldn't answer if his life depended on it. His tongue too heavy in his mouth, his lips feeling locked together, words too far away and clumsy.

"Sweetheart." The hand is back, taking his chin gently to turn his head a little. "Can you hear me?"

Hyunjin's eyes are so soft. They're brown, and wide, and the concern swimming in his irises makes Felix's heart stop. He's so close. He must've parked the car, because they're not moving, and Hyunjin's leaning over him, his face so close to the younger's that Felix can't think straight.

Soft brown hair frames Hyunjin's face, falling into his eyes. Felix wants to run his fingers through it, wants to feel how soft it is.

"Lix-ah." Felix's eyes drop down to Hyunjin's lips, mesmerized to see them form around the syllables of his name. "Did you eat this morning?"

Unbidden, the memory of an old, beat-up hotel room comes to mind. He's in his pyjamas, standing barefoot in the dark hallway as Chan stirs something into his coffee.

"Hyung."

"Oh? You're awake already, little star?" Chan's smile transforms his face, taking away the tired lines forming around his eyes. He shines no less than Felix once did, and almost immediately, all worry dissipates.

"I made breakfast." Felix says, feeling silly, standing there barefoot with his thin pillow while Chan obviously hadn't gone to bed that night.

"Thanks love." Chan says, coming closer. "I'll eat later, okay? You should wash up. I'll be there soon."

And then, another memory, years later. A different hallway, a different time.

"Morning hyung."

"Mm? Is it morning already?" Chan rubs his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

Felix frowns. "I made breakfast."

"Breakfast is for losers."

"Hyung!"

"I'm kidding. I'll be down in a few. Just need to finish this."

Felix stands there for a few moments. Then he sighs, grabbing the empty cup on Chan's desk. "Let's pretend I still believe that."

Chan looks up with a sheepish look on his face. He doesn't deny it though, and Felix trudges into their tiny kitchen, hitting the coffee machine a few times to make it work. He never liked the bitter drink, but Chan seemed to survive on it from day to day.

Now, with Hyunjin leaning over him, Felix feels tears pricking at his eyes. What had Hyunjin asked? He felt like he was overheating, sweater too heavy on him and the air in the car becoming stuffy.

Unbidden, a tear slides down his cheek, and Hyunjin catches it, wiping the wet trail away. He looks a little like Felix had felt, all those years ago, watching his brother work himself into oblivion.