The place smelled like paint and cheap wine. Felix wrinkled his nose the second they stepped inside, glancing around at the scattered easels, half-finished canvases, and couples already laughing too loudly over their drinks.

“This was your idea?” he asked, skeptical.

Hyunjin looked entirely too pleased with himself. “You said you wanted to come.” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Felix snorted. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“You implied it.”

“I absolutely did not imply painting flowers in a room full of strangers.”

Hyunjin leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough to feel conspiratorial. “It’s not flowers.” Felix raised a brow. Hyunjin nodded toward the front of the room, where the instructor was setting up an example canvas.

It was, in fact, flowers.

Felix turned back slowly. “You lied to me.”

Hyunjin grinned. “I adapted the truth.”

Felix tried; he really did, to stay unimpressed.

But something about the way Hyunjin looked right now, a little softer outside of the bar, a little less guarded, made it hard to hold onto any real annoyance.

“Come on,” Hyunjin said, nudging him toward two empty seats. “It’ll be fun.”

Felix let himself be dragged along, shaking his head as he sat down. “If I embarrass myself, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh, you will,” Hyunjin said easily, tying an apron around his waist. “And I’ll enjoy every second of it.”

Felix scoffed, grabbing a brush. “You’re assuming you’ll be any better.”

Hyunjin paused, then picked up his own brush with a dramatic flourish. “Felix,” he said, mock-serious, “I am an artist.”

“You own a bar.”

“I contain multitudes.”

Felix huffed a laugh despite himself.

The class started soon after, the instructor walking them step-by-step through the painting. Something about light and shadow and “letting the brush do the work.”

Felix tried to follow along. He really did. But five minutes in, his “flower” looked like it had been through something traumatic.

“…Why does mine look like it’s dying?” he muttered.

Hyunjin leaned over, studying Felix’s canvas with far too much focus.

“…It has character,” Hyunjin said carefully.

Felix turned to him, deadpan. “Be honest.”

Hyunjin broke instantly, laughing. “Okay, yeah, it looks a little… cursed.”

Felix shoved his shoulder. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m not the one murdering plants on canvas.”

“At least mine looks interesting,” Felix shot back, glancing at Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin’s was… annoyingly good. Like, actually good.

Felix narrowed his eyes. “Have you done this before?”

Hyunjin shrugged, smug. “Maybe.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re just jealous.”

Felix leaned closer, squinting at the details. “No, I’m suspicious.”

Hyunjin laughed again, softer this time, and something about the sound settled warm in Felix’s chest.

For a while, it was easy. They fell into a rhythm; light teasing, quiet commentary, the occasional accidental brush of hands when they reached for the same color. At one point, Felix reached across Hyunjin for a paint tube, and Hyunjin didn’t move. Didn’t pull back.

Felix paused, suddenly aware of how close they were. Close enough to see the faint smudge of paint on Hyunjin’s cheek. Close enough to notice the way his focus had shifted; not on the canvas, but on Felix.

“Having fun?” Hyunjin asked quietly.

Felix hesitated. He could’ve deflected. Made a joke. Kept it light.

But instead, he nodded. “Yeah.”

It came out softer than he meant it to. Hyunjin’s expression changed, just slightly, but enough.

“Good,” he said.

Felix swallowed, turning back to his painting a little too quickly. By the time the class wrapped up, Felix’s canvas was still objectively terrible. Hyunjin’s, unfortunately for Felix’s ego, looked like something you could actually hang on a wall.

Felix held his up anyway, inspecting it with exaggerated seriousness. “I think it’s misunderstood.”

Hyunjin leaned in beside him. “I think it’s haunted.”

Felix laughed, shaking his head. Then, without really thinking about it, he reached up and dabbed a streak of paint across Hyunjin’s cheek—right over the smudge that was already there.

Hyunjin froze.

“…Did you just—”

“That’s for not seeing my vision,” Felix said, completely unapologetic.

Hyunjin stared at him for a second.

Then, slowly, he dipped his own fingers into a bit of paint.

Felix’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare—”

Too late.

Hyunjin brushed a streak of color across Felix’s jaw, light but deliberate. Felix sucked in a breath, more startled than he expected. For a second, neither of them moved. They were standing too close again. Closer than before. Hyunjin’s hand lingered just slightly, like he’d forgotten to pull away. Felix could feel it; every point of contact, every inch of space between them that didn’t quite exist.

“Now it’s even,” Hyunjin murmured.

Felix’s heart did something inconvenient.

“…You’re still insufferable,” he said, but there was no bite to it.

Hyunjin smiled; soft, real, nothing like the teasing grin from earlier.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “But you’re still here.”

Felix didn’t answer. He just looked at him. And for a moment, in a room full of half-finished paintings and quiet laughter, it felt like something steady. Something simple.

Something that could almost—almost—last.

The bar was quieter than usual.

Not empty but softened. The usual chaos dulled into something warmer, something almost intimate. Low music hummed through the walls, lights dimmed just enough to blur the edges of everything sharp.

Felix leaned against the counter, watching Hyunjin from across the room.

It still startled him sometimes, how easy this had become.

Hyunjin laughed at something one of the regulars said, head tipping back just slightly, hair falling away from his face. For a moment, he wasn’t guarded, wasn’t careful. He was just… happy.

And somehow, that happiness had started to include Felix.

Felix exhaled quietly, something tight in his chest loosening. This—this right here—was dangerous.

Not the kind of dangerous he’d grown up with. Not the kind that came with raised voices, slammed doors, or blood that didn’t wash out no matter how hard you tried.

No, this was softer. This was the kind that made you break.

“Whatcha thinking about sunshine?”

Felix blinked, startled out of his thoughts as Hyunjin slid into the space beside him, setting down two drinks like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Nothing,” Felix said automatically.

Hyunjin raised a brow. “Mhm okay I believe you blondie.”

Felix huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he took the glass. Their fingers brushed just barely sending a spark up his arm, quick and unwelcome in how much it lingered.

“You’re insufferable,” Felix muttered.

“And you keep coming back,” Hyunjin shot back, softer this time.

There was no edge to it. No challenge. Just the truth.

Felix glanced at him, and for a second, just a second, he let himself look. Really look. Because once Felix did this, he could never look again. He had to memorize him now while he had the chance.

Hyunjin has gotten closer lately. Not just physically, though there was that too, but in the quiet ways. The way he stayed after closing. The way he asked questions he didn’t have to. The way he looked at Felix like he was trying to understand something he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

Like he wanted to.

Felix swallowed.

“You own the place,” Felix said lightly, deflecting. “Hard not to come back.”

Hyunjin didn’t smile this time.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s not what I meant.”

The air shifted. It was subtle, but Felix felt it immediately; the way the warmth tilted into something heavier, something that pressed just slightly against his ribs. Hyunjin leaned his elbow on the counter, closer now. Not crowded, just… there.

“You’ve been different,” he said. “Quieter.”

Felix looked down at his drink. “Busy.”

“That’s not it.”

“Hyunjin—”

“Talk to me.”

It wasn’t demanding. That was the worst part. It was gentle. Almost pleading. 

Felix let out a slow breath, jaw tightening as he stared at the amber liquid in his glass. For a moment, he considered it; considered just telling him enough to ease that look in his eyes.

But the image came anyway.

His father’s voice. Low. Controlled. Angry in a way that never needed to get loud.

The kind of anger that left marks.

Felix’s grip tightened around the glass.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” he said finally.

“I do,” Hyunjin replied, too quickly. Then, quieter, “I want to.”

That did it.

Felix laughed; but it came out wrong. Thin. Frayed at the edges.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s kind of the problem.”

Hyunjin frowned. “What is?”

Felix set the glass down carefully, like if he moved too fast something might shatter that he wouldn’t be able to fix.

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between them. “Whatever this is.”

Hyunjin went still. “Felix—”

“It was supposed to be nothing,” Felix continued, voice steady in a way that felt rehearsed. “Just… drinks. Late nights. Something easy.”

“And it can’t be more?” Hyunjin asked.

Felix finally looked at him. And for a second; just a second, he almost said yes. Almost let himself believe that this could exist without consequences. That he could keep this small, bright thing without it being taken from him. Without it being destroyed.

But he knew better. He’d always known better.

“No,” Felix said quietly.

The word landed heavier than he expected. Hyunjin’s expression shifted; not dramatically, but enough. Enough that Felix felt it like a crack forming somewhere he couldn’t see.

“Why?” Hyunjin asked.

Felix hesitated.

He couldn’t tell him the truth. Not all of it. Not the parts that mattered most.

If his father found out…
If his father even suspected…

Felix forced a deadpan look that could kill.

“Because I don’t do ‘more,’” he said. “And you deserve someone who does.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” Hyunjin said, sharper now.

“It kind of is.”

“Felix—”

“I’m serious.”

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Hyunjin searched his face, like he was looking for something; some crack, some hesitation, anything that would prove this wasn’t real. Felix didn’t give it to him.

He couldn’t.

“You don’t mean that,” Hyunjin said finally, quieter now. Felix’s chest tightened.

“I do.”

Another lie that sounded too much like the truth.

Hyunjin let out a slow breath, stepping back just slightly. Not far; but enough. Enough to feel like distance.

“Right, okay. If that’s what you want…” he said.

The words were flat.

Felix hated it.

“I’ll still—” Hyunjin started, then stopped himself, shaking his head. “No. Never mind.”

Felix’s throat burned. “Hyunjin—”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “You’ve made it clear.”

This time, when he stepped away, he didn’t come back.

Felix stood there for a long moment after he left, the noise of the bar rushing back in around him like nothing had changed. Like something hadn’t just broken. His hands trembled slightly as he picked up his drink again, staring at it without really seeing.

This was the right choice. It had to be.

Because if he let this go any further,
if he let Hyunjin get any closer, 

Then his father wouldn’t just ruin Felix.

He’d ruin him too.

And Felix couldn’t let that happen.

Even if it meant losing the only thing that had ever felt like it might have been worth keeping.