youknowiknowhan

[youknowiknowhan]

First smut here you go😌

It’s been a rough couple of weeks for Felix. The boys had just ended their comeback promotions and went straight back to work on the next, restarting the cycle of writing, producing, and choreographing. The more work they put in, the more work they wanted to do. Mornings with Felix turned into being awoken by his goodbye kiss, seeing his retreating back through groggy eyes. Meals together went from dinners to suppers, and eventually eating alone, setting aside a plate for him with a sticky note. Heat this in the microwave. I love you. You wondered when you should step in - you’ve seen him work himself to the point of exhaustion, shadows taking over his face, falling asleep in the practice room, eyes turning distant and hollow.

The alarm bells went off when he didn’t answer his phone throughout the day. You racked up 15 missed calls, heart creeping towards your throat as the hours passed and worst case scenarios raced through your head. You grabbed one of his hoodies and started for the company, calling Bangchan on your way out.

“Hey, what’s up?” He sounded tired, but that was par for the course.

“Hey, have you seen Felix? He hasn’t answered my texts or calls since this morning. I haven’t seen him in days,” Your voice breaks a little and you swallow, gritting your teeth to keep your composure.

“Huh… I saw him in the practice room yesterday but I’ve been in the studio since.”

“Chan…” You sigh.

“I know, I know… but I’m okay. I’ve been eating and going home, just that last night was a marathon session. Are you on the way here?”

“Yeah. Come get me from reception?”

“Okay. See ya,”

You feel the rush of air conditioning as you enter the JYP building. Bowing slightly to the receptionist, you stuff your hands into the pocket of Felix’s hoodie as you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You see Chan exit an elevator and give a slight wave.

Chan pulls you into a bear hug and you realise you can’t remember the last time you saw Felix, let alone touched him. The thought makes your eyes sting and you step away, shoving your hands back into the pocket and quickly turning towards the lifts. Chan eyes you curiously, but whether it’s fatigue or empathy stopping him from saying anything is unclear. The two of you step into the lift and Chan presses the button for 7.

“Hey.” You startle as Chan interrupts the thoughts spiralling in your mind. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

“Yeah… Thanks, Chan.” You mumble as the lift bell sounds.

He pats your shoulder as you part ways, heading opposite directions down the hallways.

You wring your hands as you peer into every practice room, opening the doors and turning on the lights to double check the interiors. There aren’t many people in the building at this time of night, and the knot in your stomach winds tighter with every empty room you sweep.

Finally, you reach the final practice room at the end of the corridor. It’s dark and silent, and you contemplate calling Chan again if your search turns up fruitless. You press your face and hands against the small window and almost fall face-first when the door is yanked open from the inside, a hand reaching out and grabbing your arm harshly, pulling you into the dark.

Your scream of surprise is muffled by a warm palm, your back slamming against a hard body and a strong arm gripping your midriff painfully.

Your nostrils flare as you try to breathe around the hand over your face, and that's when you smell it. That familiar scent masked by the sweat of hard work and the chill of late nights. Sugar and sunshine - home. You cease your struggle, wrapping your fingers around the arm gripping your waist in an effort to turn yourself around. He doesn't budge though, and in your confusion, one of your feet lands on his, causing him to cry out softly in pain and stumble backwards, loosening his grip on you. You spin around and grab him by the shoulders. The sight that meets your eyes snatches the air from your lungs.

He's exhausted - that much you expected. But the desperation in his eyes catches you off-guard. He looks, for lack of a better word, hungry. His eyes meet yours for a beat, taking in your face and lingering on your lips. He leans in, a trembling hand coming up to cup your neck.

"Felix..." you whisper, concern blooming in your mind. He catches your lips with his and a groan escapes him, his grip tightening on you as he manoeuvres you to the mirror. The cold glass meets the back of your head as Felix chases your mouth with his own, the heat of his body seeping into your own. Your hands fist his shirt, the oversized fit tangling in your fingers and making you whine in frustration. With a growl, he slams a hand next to your head, making you jump as he leans away and pulls the garment over his head, flinging it to the floor. He caresses your face with a warm hand, his expression stony as you lean into the touch. You never break eye contact and the look in his eyes is… haunting. They’re empty and passionate at the same time; cold yet affectionate. A shiver goes down your spine as you realise you don’t know this Felix. You have no idea what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling… what he wants.

“You look so good in my clothes.” His voice is deep, deeper than usual, raspy and rough against the silence of the practice room. His eyes rove down up and down your body, raking over your collarbones and down your thighs. You move your hands in front of you, an unconscious response to feeling so exposed, but his eyes narrow and he pins your hands behind you, forcing your back to straighten and your chest to press against his. His eyes are dark as he assesses your face.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” his breath ghosting against your neck. “Things have been so tough for me, but you…” he feathers kisses along your jawline. “You’re my light,” he drags his nose along your cheek. “My sunshine,”

“All mine.”

In a blur of action, he releases your hands and hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and slipping his hands up your body, sucking in a sharp breath when he registers the absence of your bra. Clicking his tongue, he reaches up to rid you of his hoodie before burying his face between your breasts, licking and groping, groaning against your skin. You reach down to grip his shoulders, the action pushing your breasts closer together. You look down and see Felix’s eyes, wide and dark. The sudden crease between his brows is all the warning you have before you’re hauled unceremoniously off the mirror and tossed onto the couch.

You land on the couch with a bounce and have barely a second to regain your bearings before Felix is on you again, skin on skin, licking and touching any part of you within his reach. His fingers tug at the waistband of your jeans, silently asking permission, and you fumble with the button before he takes over, undoing it quickly and pulling them off you along with your underwear. You reach for him but he gets to you first, one hand pinning your hips down while the other drags demanding fingers over your heat. You cry out - there’s so much going on yet it’s not enough, but it’s all you can do to muffle your moans as Felix coats his fingers in your slick and toys with your clit. You hear his sigh and the swoosh of fabric before he’s lining himself up against you. His face enters your vision, a fresh layer of sweat clinging to his bangs, his hand gripping yours so tight. He lowers his head to yours and snaps his hips, burying himself in you and ripping a scream from your throat that you muffle in his shoulder.

He sets a punishing pace, hands wandering all over your body, breaths coming loud and fast. You vaguely register your reflections in the mirror and the clothes strewn across the floor, leaving no doubt as to what was happening should anyone walk in. All the thoughts leave your head, though, the moment Felix catches your eyes straying, a snarl leaving his curled lips and his hand leaving yours to squeeze your jaw almost painfully, turning your head back to face him.

You hear Felix’s grunts faintly over the rush in your ears, feel his fingers dig painfully into your hips before his thrusts stutter and still. He collapses onto you, his weight bringing you back down from your high. You stare up at the ceiling, riding the wave of relief and pleasure, relishing the blankness of your mind and the looseness of your limbs.