Hidden Connections(Seungchan ff)

One way or Another

Felix shifted in his sleep, a soft moan escaping his lips, and Minho immediately stilled, watching him closely. Felix was beautiful even in his unconscious state. And in this twisted little game Minho had forced them into, Felix was the prize. His eyes traced the delicate line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, and he felt a strange ache that only intensified.

Minho moved to sit on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the cool, worn sheets as he leaned down to get a closer look at Felix. He couldn’t explain it, this feeling that tightened his chest whenever he gazed at Felix—this longing that never seemed to go away. It had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, but now that Felix was here with him, helpless and bound, Minho found it overwhelming.

His fingers brushed against Felix’s cheek, and his breath caught in his throat. Felix’s skin was warm, so soft against his fingertips. Minho watched him for a long time, unsure if he wanted to move closer or if he wanted to pull away. Something about Felix’s beauty, his innocence, made Minho feel like he was losing control. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let Felix go, not after everything he’d done to get him here.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Minho whispered, his voice tinged with both reverence and bitterness. “To have you all to myself... without anyone else getting in the way. No Chan. No distractions. Just you and me.”

Felix stirred again, his eyes fluttering open just slightly. Minho immediately pulled his hand back, watching Felix’s face closely as he woke up, though the younger man didn’t seem fully aware of where he was yet.

"Hey," Minho said softly, his voice smooth and low. "Did you sleep well? You look so peaceful." He chuckled darkly, the irony not lost on him. Peaceful? Felix had no idea where he was, or that his life had just taken a turn into the darkness.

Felix blinked, his eyes still unfocused, as though struggling to remember what happened or how he got here. He groaned, the ache in his body still too fresh.

"What... where am I?" Felix mumbled, his voice hoarse. His mind still struggled to process the situation. The tight ropes around his wrists and ankles were the first thing he noticed—then, the strange, unfamiliar surroundings of the room.

"Don’t worry, kitten," Minho said, his voice laced with a fake gentleness. "You’re safe with me. I’m not going to hurt you." His words were honeyed, but there was an underlying darkness that Felix could sense. He tried to move, to shift in the bed, but the moment he made any attempt to break free, Minho’s hand was at his throat, gentle but firm.

"Stay still," Minho warned softly, his eyes narrowing. "You don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be."

Felix’s breath hitched in his throat. He could feel the weight of Minho’s hand and the air around them becoming suffocating. Fear surged through him, but his body was too weak to fight back, too exhausted from the hours of being restrained.

Minho’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t a kind one. “I told you,” he said softly. “You’re mine now. I won’t let anyone else have you. Not Chan, not anyone.”

Felix’s chest tightened, a mixture of confusion, fear, and anger flooding his veins. “You... you’re insane,” he hissed, his voice strained. “This isn’t love. You’re just using me, and you’re sick. I won’t let you win.”

Minho’s smile faltered for a brief moment, and something flickered in his eyes—a dark, turbulent emotion that Felix couldn’t quite place. It was the first sign of uncertainty Minho had shown, but he quickly masked it.

He leaned closer to Felix, his face inches from his. "You’re wrong," he whispered, his breath hot against Felix’s skin. “This is love. And you’ll come to see that, eventually.”