This must have been the result of a strange planetary alignment. That was the only explanation that could justify a kiss so improbable. A series of cosmic events so rare, yet so perfectly aligned, they rendered the impossible plausible. Chan presses Felix against the wall as their mouths devour each other, and Felix finds himself silently praying that this eclipse never ends. His hands bury in Chan’s hair as their tongues intertwine and their breaths grow hot, searing. Chan’s hips press against him, and Felix knows he must be dreaming or delirious. Maybe he drank so much he lost his balance and fell. Maybe he hit his head—hard—and now he’s in a coma, hallucinating. But hallucinations aren’t supposed to feel this real, are they?

Felix gasps Chan’s name against his mouth, and Chan pulls away. Felix feels his lips damp with saliva and briefly wonders whose it is before deciding it doesn’t matter. Their eyes meet for an instant. Felix fears the magic will break, that Chan will pull back and call this a mistake, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, Chan lowers his gaze, slowly, and lets the tip of his nose graze Felix’s cheek. His descent is measured, deliberate, until his liaps reach Felix’s neck. He plants kisses there, sending shivers rippling violently down Felix’s spine. For a moment, Felix feels his heart, his breath, his body, and the entire world pause. Then Chan’s mouth bites his skin, and Felix can’t hold back a moan that sounds like a plea.

In movies, this is the moment someone knocks on the door, shattering the spell. Felix massages the back of Chan’s head, threading his fingers through his hair, trying to mentally brace himself for that inevitable interruption—the knock that would burst this dream like a soap bubble. But it doesn’t come.

The wallpaper’s intricate pattern starts to blur. Felix’s legs feel weak as excitement builds within him. Chan’s tongue moves along his neck, and what escapes Felix is a full, unrestrained gasp.

And now he’s hard.

Really, undeniably hard—enough that Chan can’t possibly ignore it.

“Holy shit, I—”

“Shut up,” Chan hisses. His hips press into Felix, and for a moment, panic seizes him. Chan’s going to notice—he’s going to feel it, feel what his kiss has done to him. The panic spikes when Felix realizes Chan’s in the same state.

Nothing makes sense; it’s all too wild, too absurd. Felix is almost tempted to freak out, to grab Chan’s shoulders and demand he explain, step by step, what’s happening and what it all means. But then he reminds himself: an eclipse is an eclipse. It’s not meant to last. Before he knows it, the planets will misalign, and this moment will fade into a strange memory, tucked away with all the wrong decisions of his life.

So Felix places his hands on Chan’s shoulders, but instead of shaking him or pushing him away, he flips their positions, pressing Chan against the wall. Chan jolts in surprise. Even in the dim light of the room, Felix can make out his furrowed expression. For a moment, he’s grateful for the darkness, unsure if he’d have the same courage otherwise.

But in the end, what he knows or doesn’t know doesn’t matter. Felix sinks to his knees, and the sound that rips from Chan’s throat is somewhere between a deep growl and a desperate gasp.

When everything seems foreign, it's easy to get lost in noticing the most insignificant details. The hard floor beneath his knees, the soft fabric of Chan's pants, the accommodating way the button slides under his fingers. The zipper slides down slowly and Chan sighs again. Felix wonders what he's thinking about, if he's thinking about anything at all. Maybe if one of them stopped to think for just a moment, they'd put an end to this madness, but hormones have the power to cloud the mind like the most potent of drugs.

Felix has given blowjobs before. They weren't great, nor were they particularly inspired. This is definitely the first time he's doing something like this with someone he has feelings for - with someone he loves. He feels vulnerable, as if he has no idea where to start.

He wants to make Chan feel good.

Damn it, he wants to make him feel so good that he becomes dependent on that pleasure, on the sensation of his mouth.

He wants to make him feel so good that it becomes impossible for him to even jerk off without coming back to this exact moment in his mind.

Felix places his palm against Chan's tense cock, his palm pressing against it as he feels it contract under his touch. It's big, long, slightly curved. Felix feels his mouth fill with saliva just at the sight. His index fingers hook onto the edge of Chan's boxer briefs, and the amber-colored skin is traversed by a thin line of hair that starts from his navel. Felix licks along that path and feels Chan shudder again, leaning back against the wall as his hand brushes against Felix's hair. And then Felix realizes that he's still there, that he's still present, that he hasn't slipped away entirely into oblivion of pleasure.

Felix's fingers tremble as he exposes Chan's cock from his boxer briefs, which fall against the floor. When that erection rises before him, he wonders why - why it has to be so big and hot. He never thought of cocks as something truly beautiful before now; now it seems almost like a masterpiece before him is waiting for admiration and attention. His hands run over it almost autonomously. His mouth follows a moment later. He places slow kisses along its length, one soft smack after another, until reaching rose-tinted glans.

He would spend an entire lifetime doing this. He would kiss every millimeter of that cock, lick it clean, suck his balls dry, and bring Chan to the point of begging before finally taking him fully into his mouth. But he doesn't know how much time they have left. He doesn't know if someone will arrive soon, or if Chan will suddenly realize that the person sucking his dick is actually his best friend and decide to stop everything abruptly. So, while Felix knows how desperately he wants to enjoy this intimate connection deeply, he also knows that he can't afford to linger too long and make a pause.

He takes a deep breath before parting his lips and enveloping Chan's glans with his mouth. "Christ-" Chan groans, his fingers digging into Felix's hair, grasping and tugging as his cock slides into the scorching hot mouth of what should be his best friend. Felix is so hard that he can feel his own sex pulsating beneath the tight skirt. With one hand, he strokes himself to give himself a brief respite, but his focus is entirely on Chan, who thrusts forward with a hip movement. The taste of Chan, the smell of his cock... it's all so intense that Felix feels like he's on the verge of losing his mind. He waves his tongue against it, his soft lips curling up as he lets Chan sink in, but Chan must have lost patience. Felix startles when he feels hands clench around the sides of his head, when he senses Chan pushing into his mouth. Felix moans in surprise and excitement, and that moan is a pleasant vibration that spreads against Chan's cock, who gasps again, throwing his head back until the nape of his neck rests against the wall. It's the most beautiful thing Felix has ever seen.

More.

More.

He wants much more.

Felix's fingers go to caress Chan's testicles, following the rhythm of their movements. Suddenly, it's difficult to tell if it's Felix who is moving forward or Chan who is sinking into his mouth. The room is filled with wet sounds and gasps. Felix never could have imagined in even the wildest of erotic dreams that he would end up getting fucked in the mouth by Chan — and yet here they are. He tightens his grip around Chan's balls, making him groan in frustration, which prompts him to pull slightly at Felix's hair and thrust faster into his mouth, cutting off his breath and almost making him wheeze. A trickle of saliva escapes from between them as Chan's cock fucks its way through Felix's mouth with a lack of finesse that belies any expectation of elegance.

With a guttural moan, Chan starts spilling hot cum down Felix's throat, and Felix drinks every last drop without hesitation. Everything seems all confused now; nothing makes sense anymore. His penis slips out from between those luscious lips and then moistly rubs itself clean after being throated. This is Chan's taste now; Felix understands and knows exactly how Chan smells. His new consciousness is overwhelming.

He lifts his gaze toward his best friend and finds that Chan, with half-lidded eyes, was searching for his in the same way. For a moment—a fleeting, fragile moment—the world is only this: ragged breaths, eyes reflecting each other.

But then something shifts in Chan. It’s quick, abrupt. Chan pushes Felix away and hurriedly fastens his pants, like he’s been burned. He doesn’t look afraid. He looks... furious.

Felix feels his legs turn to jelly.

He knows the eclipse is over even before Chan opens his mouth.