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.paris.
from the latin meaning "lucky, successful" 
although he was born male, he feels some distance with that identity, and identifies mainly as a demiboy 
stock; good ✺ ✺ ✺
when felix was a child, he used to always dream about his wedding. he had everything planned out from the age of twelve, from the cake topper to the color scheme to the very season it would be held in. he meticulously held to this idea. the only thing he wasn’t sure of, though, was who he was going to marry.
he grew up in a very heteronormative, religious household, so his first exposure to anything deviant from that norm was david bowie. he first heard the ziggy stardust album on accident as he wandered into a record store to buy a birthday present for his mom, and couldn’t quit thinking about the androgynous man he had just heard, the antithesis of everything he thought he knew. when bowie came out as gay, it felt like something finally clicked with felix. he understood.
his wedding plans finally made more sense to him; he was no longer planning for dresses, but for tuxes. there was the unfortunate caveat of unsupportive parents, but he didn’t care. he found himself loving pink and loving bowie and planning his wedding like how he wanted: with the most dashing, beautiful, handsome man by his side.optional extras: felix met lucas in the most unexpected of ways: on the beach, on the hottest day of summer, when felix had just hopelessly lost a volleyball competition to lucas and his team, mainly because felix couldn’t keep his eyes off the blonde, tanned beach babe in front of him. he missed every ball that was thrown at him.
lucas came up to him afterwards, smirking, with a phone number scrawled in messy handwriting and a proposition: whoever wins the next volleyball game has to buy food for the winner. felix, starry-eyed and dazed, agreed, but quickly backed out when he realized it involved sports. plus, he didn’t have the cash to treat anyone to lunch, let alone someone like lucas, who deserved a full five-course meal in his eyes, and felix barely had enough for mcdonald’s. embarrassed, felix withdrew, but lucas kept pushing.
“one game” he would text him, and every time felix would come up with an excuse. all lucas would say is “i’ll wait,” once, felix, in a fit of flustered embarrassment, sent back “i’d kiss you before i play volleyball with you.” all lucas said back was “i’ll wait.”
on the last day of their beach trip, lucas finally managed to corner felix. “did i do something wrong?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “i just wanted to play some volleyball with you. you were funny. and were pretty good at keeping your team motivated.” he hesitated, suppressing a smile. “although, not so good with balls.”
felix blushed deep red, and, after an awkward pause, so did lucas. both boys stood there, facing each other, not knowing what to say but desperately wanting to speak. finally, lucas spoke up again.
“if you don’t want to play volleyball, we can at the very least go out to lunch. my treat.”
“why are you being so nice to me?” felix all of a sudden blurted out, before immediately biting his tongue.
stupid, why did you say that! he’s going to think you’re crazy. “because,” lucas said, and felix all of a sudden noticed how close lucas was to his face. he involuntarily held his breath, his heart beating out of his chest. “i like you.” he said it plainly, matter-of-factly, as though he was talking about the weather instead of sharing his deep, intimate feelings. felix thought he might throw up.
“are you sure?”
“pretty positive.” lucas grinned, and leaned so close to his face that their noses were nearly touching, giving felix the opportunity to close a kiss. “by the way,” he breathed. “i’m still waiting."
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