Chapter Text
It’s been a normal aristocratic life for Zhang Hao. Parties here, balls being thrown by this house, banquets this night, followed by tea at this manor the next day. He was born into it. Of course, that comes with its own fair share of torture, nothing like the common people he sees when he goes into town. He’s allowed to be queer within his own circle. Of course, people stare, people talk, but he couldn’t care less. He’s free to be himself within reason. The only thing that tears him apart, he can’t be with the one man he loves.
Sung Hanbin. That’s the only man he’s ever wanted. Sure, he’s flirted with other people, but only as a distraction from the tortuously magnetic pull he has toward Hanbin. The issue doesn’t come with Hanbin himself; it’s his family. Hanbin is the son of the preacher. Hanbin was raised in the church; morally, he can’t handle the idea that he’s a gay man. He’ll hold Zhang Hao so closely and dearly, then he’ll pull away, scared of the reality of who he is.
“I wish this were acceptable.” Hanbin sighs, playing with Zhang Hao’s fingers.
Zhang Hao hums, nuzzling his forehead against Hanbin’s cheek and scooting his legs higher into Hanbin’s lap, “It can be.”
“It can’t, Hao, you know that.” Hanbin huffs, “It’s… It’s not right in the eyes of the Lord.”
Zhanghao pulls back, still letting Hanbin play with his hands. He pouts slightly, knowing Hanbin thinks he looks prettiest when he pouts. When Hanbin doesn’t cave to him, he furrows his eyebrows and pulls his hands from Hanbin’s hold and sitting up straight beside him.
“What?” Hanbin asks, “It’s not—“
“Hanbin.” Zhang Hao cuts him off, “We’ve been playing this game for years now.”
“Doesn’t make it any more right.”
“Hanbin, no matter how long we go on with this, it will always be us. Why don’t we—“
“I can’t go against the church. My father.”
“And if he wasn’t the preacher?”
Silence. Hanbin has no way to fight his logic. He knows full well that their being together secretly or their being together publicly makes absolutely no difference. Whether the world knew they were involved with each other outside of a friendship or not made absolutely no difference in how ‘wrong’ it is. It only made a difference in their social circles. Zhang Hao because he was involved with someone of a lower class, Hanbin, because he was with a man and someone outside his social class.
“Maybe you’re right.” Hanbin sighs.
Zhang Hao chuckles lightly, endeared by Hanbin, “If you really don’t want this, we can make a clean cut. You stop coming here with your father when he attends to business with my parents. I stop sneaking out to seedy areas just to see you, where your father doesn’t have eyes.”
“That’s not what I want. I want you.” Hanbin breathes out.
Zhanghao leans in to kiss Hanbin as he has done a million and one times over the past few years in the secrecy of lowly lit alleys and behind closed doors. Hanbin pulls back, tears welling in his eyes. He can’t meet Zhang Hao’s gaze. The tension between them is thick, so thick that Zhang Hao feels his breathing become labored. He can’t hold back anymore.
“Just let me love you, Hanbin!” He finally snaps, “Why won’t you let me love you?”
Hanbin finally looks at Zhang Hao. There’s a fire in his eyes. All Hanbin wants to do is put that fire out and replace it with a more loving and beautiful fire. He shouldn’t want that; he wants nothing more, though.
“Why can’t you see—“ Hanbin chokes on his words, “You can’t… Hao… It’s wrong.”
Zhang Hao gives him a look. This is the same conversation they’ve had many times before. It always ends with Hanbin pulling away, not seeing him for a few weeks, just to come back into Zhang Hao’s arms like he belongs there. It’s a never-ending cycle; Zhang Hao is over it.
“I love you!” Zhang Hao admits.
It’s something they don’t say to each other. Ever. In all the years of them being romantically involved with each other, in all the years of almost going further, they never once admitted to being in love. Zhang Hao is tired of it all; the truth will out.
“I love you, Sung Hanbin! Why the hell does anything else matter?”
The vulgar words mixed into his confession make Hanbin flinch slightly. His gaze travels back up to meet Zhang Hao’s again, not even realizing that it had dropped at some point. Zhang Hao’s eyes are brimming with tears. They haven’t fallen yet, but Hanbin fights every cell in his body not to reach out to comfort him. He has to stand his ground.
“We can’t! It’s wrong in the eyes of God, Zhang Hao, that’s why!” Hanbin yells back, “We can’t be together! Our society would shun us, our church would condemn us! We just can’t be together!”
Hanbin lets his tears fall down his cheeks, hating every word coming out of his mouth.
Zhang Hao knows a compromise needs to be made. He would love nothing more than to be out in public with the man he loves, show the universe that this caring, loving, intelligent, dedicated man is his, but he knows it’s not realistic. At least, not outside the manor.
“Hanbin,” Zhang Hao reaches out to pull Hanbin into a tight hug, “I love you. I don’t care if it’s out loud and open. In the faces of every party attendant and person in this kingdom. Or if it’s stolen moments behind closed doors like this. I would love to show the world just how much we love each other. I know you aren’t comfortable with that. I don’t care how, I love you. I love you, not anyone else.”
Hanbin starts sobbing fully against the expensive material of Zhang Hao’s jacket. He’ll have to apologize for that later.
“Hao… we—“ Hanbin sniffles, “We shouldn’t… we can’t—“
“We can.” Zhang Hao says with complete and utter determination, “We’ll work through this, together.”
“I…”
Hanbin pulls back, gulping as he lets his eyes flit across Zhang Hao’s face, finding that he had been crying a bit as well.
“I love you.” Hanbin finally confesses, “I shouldn’t, but…” he sighs, “I love you, Zhang Hao.”
Zhang Hao laughs through his tears, wiping his cheeks before wrapping his arms tightly around Hanbin’s waist again. Hanbin leans down slightly to press his cheek into Zhang Hao’s shoulder, ignoring the fact that it’s damp from his tears. They stand there in comfortable silence for a while, savoring every moment they can steal. Zhang Hao jerks his shoulder slightly, making Hanbin lift his head again. The aristocrat starts to lean in; it’s familiar to both of them, Zhang Hao guiding and Hanbin falling harder for him each time. For some reason, this feels different. Hanbin’s heart beats out of his chest; his breathing is uneven and heavy. Zhang Hao’s lips are almost touching his, his breath fanning across his lips. He’s so close but entirely too far.
Just as Hanbin is about to close the gap between them, the door to this sitting room swings open. The couple separates as if they were ripped apart. It’s too late, though; Hanbin’s father saw exactly what was about to happen. The rage that’s written across his face could kill.
“I don’t want to know what was about to happen, but I know you will be confined to the church and home for the next lifetime.” His father deadpans.
“Father, I—“
He holds his hand up to stop Hanbin, “I don’t want to hear it. We’re leaving. May God save your soul, Zhang Hao.”
There’s a bite to his words as he snatches Hanbin by the arm, practically dragging him out of the manor to start their journey back to their home. It’s not a far walk, but the entire time Hanbin is being dragged through the streets, his father’s grip harsh and painful around his wrist. He’s in deep trouble, and he knows it. Not a single word is spoken between them. The dangerous silence makes Hanbin fear that he’ll be locked in a room to never see the world again. As they reach their home, his father throws him into the sitting room. Terrified is the biggest understatement of the century to describe how Hanbin is feeling.
“What in our good Lord’s name were you thinking? Premarital engagements? Not only that, but with a man!? What has gotten into you, boy?” His father screams, uncaring that his son is shaking and wide-eyed on the hardwood floor. “Think about how that makes me look! The preacher’s son is involved with the son, son, of one of the most noble families in this kingdom! One of the most carnal sins! Lust and– I can’t even say it! Sung Hanbin, have you been possessed by the devil’s temptations? Must I take you to the church rather than here? There is no existence that I can find my son to be so lost in sin! Pull yourself together!”
“F-father I–”
“No! I won’t hear it! You will not return to that home, not in a few weeks… not ever! Is that understood? We will find you a wife, a good upstanding godly woman, bury that this ever happened. No one will know of this.”
“No! No, it’s not understood!” Hanbin yells back, standing up and finding his voice, “Our Lord teaches love, isn’t that right? ‘Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself;’... isn’t that what is commanded of us? Especially of you, the preacher, you of all people should live by at least that!” Hanbin huffs, “You are my father, I respect you, I obey you. This is not a time I will obey. I will return to Zhang Hao. I have loved him for years, and I will continue to love him. If you love me in the way our God commands, you will still love me though you do not agree with my choices.”
His father is stunned and silent. Hanbin steps closer, looking almost dangerous. He stops not but a few steps from his father. It’s so quiet in the home that you could hear a mouse scurrying on the street outside. Hanbin has reached a point where he has made up his mind; no one will deter him from his choice. Brushing off his jacket, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath. Still, his father stays silent.
“I’m starting to believe that your reputation holds more weight than your only living child. Only legitimate one that is.”
Hanbin knows it’s a deep cut; he knows it’s needed. For years, he obeyed silently, not agreeing with some of the ways his father would preach. He finally has the opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine, and it feels… good… it shouldn’t, but it does. His father doesn’t respond, but the rage building inside him is more than obvious. Before Hanbin can even process anything, he feels a sharp pain across his face and is being dragged through the home. Still not saying a word, his father throws him into his bedroom, not caring where or how Hanbin falls.
“You are not leaving this room under any circumstances. I’ll bring you dinner, and you will attend sermons every single time. Other than that, you will not leave, you will not speak to anyone.”
“I will not—“
“You have no choice in the matter!” His father yells.
He doesn’t get a chance to respond as his father slams the door shut. The telltale sign of the door locking comes with the quiet mechanical click filling the otherwise silent room before he hears footsteps retreating. The only thing Hanbin can think to do is break down in tears. He just started to accept himself, allow himself to love and be loved, and now he’s locked away. Of all people, his father should be the first one to care for him. It’s been just him and his father for years now; his mother died along with his youngest sibling in childbirth. Of all people, the preacher, who preaches love and dedication, should be the one to embrace him.
Hanbin curls up on his floor, right where he had landed, sobbing uncontrollably. His sobs wrack his body, shaking as he tries to breathe. Crying twice in a day isn’t something he expected, let alone from two very different emotions. He isn’t sure how much time passes, but by the time he finally feels himself calming down, the sun is nearly fully set. Picking himself up from the ground, he shuffles over to his window, resting his head against his forearms as he watches the end of the sunset. He wipes his face on his sleeve a few times, trying to gather himself again. Hiccups and sniffles still plague him as he finally comes down from his exhausting afternoon.
The mechanical sound fills the silent room again. Hanbin doesn’t even turn as his father steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. The tension is thicker than anything he’s ever experienced before. Neither speaks; Hanbin refuses to look at him. He can hear a plate being set down on the table near his fireplace.
“You don’t have to speak to me.” His father starts, “It’s for your own good. I won’t let you be a man walking in sin.”
Hanbin doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look at him. He just lets out a sigh and shifts his face against his arm again.
“At least light your fire so you don’t freeze overnight.”
Again, his father leaves, locking the door behind him. One thing is sure, Hanbin is as stubborn as all can be. In his current state, he can’t find it in him to care much about anything. He feels empty, broken. In all the years of Zhang Hao trying to get him to accept himself, and when he finally does, it completely destroys just about everything else. He can’t even see his boyfriend? Lover? Friend? – whatever they are at this point. The one person whom he knows can comfort him, he can’t see. He’s locked in somewhere that used to be a sanctuary. Now, it’s a prison.
He doesn’t touch the food; he barely gets the strength to stoke a small fire to keep himself from freezing. That’s the one thing he’ll listen to from the man who’s meant to be caring for him. He shuffles through the motions of preparing for bed, only to toss and turn. Staring up at the canopy above his head, he lets out another long sigh, feeling the tears brimming in his eyes again. He throws his hands over his face, letting another cry escape him. He tries to pull himself together, he really does. He just can’t seem to find any peace. He can’t even fall asleep in his current state. Hanbin finds himself letting his fingertips wander to the small birthmark on his clavicle, vaguely shaped like a sun. Whenever Zhang Hao was with him, and the skin was exposed, the elder would trace his fingertips over it in a soothing manner.
Now, as Hanbin mimics the motion, it only makes his heart ache more for him. There’s not much he wouldn’t do just to fall back into Zhang Hao’s comforting hold. He can’t stop wondering what he’s doing, what he’s feeling, what his parents asked, or what he told them. He needs Zhang Hao more than he needs air. There’s not much he can do to get to him right now. He’s locked in a room in a locked home. His father has eyes everywhere, especially in this proximity to the church. He has to do something. As empty as he feels, he needs Zhang Hao. He needs to get to him, even if he gets attacked, if he gets chased, whatever his father may try to do. He needs the love of his life. He continues to toss and turn, hoping he’ll eventually exhaust himself from thinking and just pass out. It doesn’t happen. He needs to get out of here. All he can think about is getting out of this damn house. He knows his father is likely asleep or in his study. He just needs to gamble it. If he’s awake, he can’t just go out the door; the study is right across from the sitting room in the entry. If he is asleep, he really could walk out the front door. One issue, he’s locked in… his only way out is the window. Another issue, he’s on the second floor.
“Think Hanbin, think!” He huffs.
His eyes trail over the drapes on his canopy, then his blankets, and then to his curtains. There it is. There’s the answer. If he works quickly, he can get all these fabrics tied together to create a rope out his window. Will he be seen by people? Probably. He can’t be too worried about that, though. Hanbin carefully starts pulling the drapes from his bedframe, securing knots between two pieces until he has a long rope of thick drapes. It could, in theory, be long enough to reach the ground already. The last thing he wants is to risk it being too short still. He starts pulling his curtains down from the wall, careful not to disrupt the metal bar that holds them up. Lord only knows what could happen if that came down and his father found him plotting his escape. After he has those tied to his long rope, he turns to his blankets. He could go without them, but he still would rather have them piled up on the cobblestone road than have to drop himself onto the ground from any amount of height.
Just as he finishes tying off the final knot, something catches his eye. There were a few things his mother gifted him. Not many things he has are severely sentimental to him. The locket and the ring that he was handed after her passing hold such meaning to him that he can’t bear to leave them here, knowing he won’t be returning on his own volition. He secures the rope of bedding and curtains to a bedpost before he quickly throws on an outfit. He places the ring and locket in his coat pocket before he lets out a shaky breath. Hanbin stands there for a few moments staring at the small portrait of his family, his parents, his siblings; he doesn’t know if he’ll see his father again. As mad as he is at him right now, he knows deep down that he doesn’t want to let go of that either. If not for his father, then absolutely for his mother and siblings, who have all passed. It goes into his pocket without a second thought. With one more deep breath, he pushes the window open and throws the makeshift rope out. He’s getting out of here. It’s happening.
He looks down at the ground. Big mistake. His heart pounds out of his chest. He needs to do this, not just for himself, but for Zhang Hao too. Pulling the rope experimentally, he lets out a sigh of relief, seeing that the bed doesn’t even budge. Hanbin ducks out of the window, the breeze pushing his hair in his face a bit. One more moment, just to prepare himself. It’s time. He starts climbing down the wall, noticing the lack of lights from any windows in what used to be his home. He gets to escape without a single notice from his father. He’s shaking, baffled that he’s able to do this. The things he’d do for this man, he would never think he’d do in a million years that he would do anything for him, yet here he is risking everything for him. He knows he’ll continue to do the same for the rest of both their lives.
His feet touch the ground, and the cool air around him bites in his lungs. He can’t stall. He needs to run. No matter how biting the midnight air is, no matter who he sees, no matter who tries to stop him. He needs to get to Zhang Hao if it kills him. He runs through the streets, knowing the way to Zhang Hao’s manor better than he’d like to admit. Hanbin can feel people’s eyes on him as he runs. He knows some of them are likely going to report it to his father in the morning, though many people out and about at this hour of the night are not the most Godly people. He supposes they’ll do anything to get in his father’s good books; reporting his son for sinful behavior is still something. Surprisingly, as the Zhang manor comes into view, the gates are open and the house is almost entirely lit. Hao is having a party. Part of him is relieved, and yet his stomach still churns with anxiety.
His pace goes from a full sprint to a slow walk within a matter of seconds as he crosses through the open gates. He’s heaving, trying to catch his breath, and yet he knows his heart pounding is for a different reason. The gravel crunches under his shoes quietly, but it’s still entirely too loud in his ears. Hanbin feels his breathing even out, only for it to be stolen away as he sees Zhang Hao in front of him. He’s laughing loudly, though Hanbin can see lingering sadness in his eyes. He knows all too well why that sadness hides behind his bright smile. Clearing his throat, he catches Hao’s attention. The joy returns to his eyes as he throws himself into Hanbin’s arms. Zhang Hao holds him as though he’d disappear at any given moment.
“I was so scared I wouldn’t see you again.” Hao mumbles against Hanbin’s neck, “How did you– I mean— Hanbin, I was so scared. The way that your father pulled you and… I didn’t want to think about what he could’ve done to you.”
Hanbin holds him just as tightly, not caring that guests are now staring at them. It feels both liberating and suffocating to have their eyes on them. Right now, he couldn’t care less. He has Zhang Hao in his arms, and that’s all that matters.
“I’m okay… I’m not hurt badly. It’s just–”
“Badly?” Hao cuts him off, “What do you mean, not hurt badly?”
“He hit me, threw me into the ground a few times… nothing but a few bruises.”
Hao grumbles against his skin, “I can’t commit a murder, can I?”
Hanbin giggles against Hao’s hair, “Don’t think anyone would like for you to murder the preacher. I’m okay, I promise. Just a bit hungry.”
Hao pulls back, finally noticing the bruise forming on his cheek. He can’t stop himself when he leans in to kiss the bruise softly, as if the affection would instantly heal his injury.
“Let’s get you upstairs to our room.” Zhang Hao starts, “We’ll get you some clothes fit for a party and something to eat. I’m sure there’s more than enough here to give you your fill.”
“O-our room?” Hanbin stutters, feeling a blush creep up his neck.
Hao smiles, leaning in to kiss his cheek again, “Our room. There’s no way you’re going back there. We both know you don’t want to anyway.”
For the first time, Hanbin isn’t scared to be held by Hao in a public space. Sure, his father would be beyond mad; he may as well pray for the wrath of God to rain upon them. Hanbin just can’t find it in him to care at all anymore. He has Hao in his arms, and that’s all that matters. Throughout the party Hao is hosting, he shamelessly showers Hao with barely a fraction of the love and affection he deserves to be given. People stare, and he knows they whisper and question their relationship. No matter what, he can’t stop himself from being over the moon and stars knowing he has the one he loves in his arms, finally.
To say that living together is complete bliss is an understatement. They fall into an easy rhythm together. It takes quite a bit of adjusting on Hanbin’s side, now living an upper-class life. There’s no more fighting for a decent meal, there’s no more shivering through the winter when he needed to savor coal or firewood. Everything is easy for them. One thing still hangs over them, though. Hao has mentioned it several times over the past few months, getting married. Logically, they both know that it’s something that could never happen. Any marriage has to go through the divine power of God, and by that logic, the church. Hanbin’s father would never allow such a thing, especially of his now estranged son and his lover. Luckily, Hao’s parents are nothing but loving and doting toward both of them. While they don’t understand their relationship entirely, they’d never deny the two of them the right to be in love.
As they chat with guests at yet another party, this time not at their own home. They’re at another aristocrat’s home, and Hanbin isn’t even sure of their name in all honesty. Hanbin has an arm wrapped around Hao’s waist, his hand resting comfortably on his hip. Hao, with his head resting against Hanbin’s shoulder he idly listened to this young woman tell some sort of story. Hanbin doesn’t listen as intently; rather, he zones out with the assistance of the low roar of the conversations around the room. He absentmindedly fiddles with the ring that Hao had gifted him a few weeks ago. Hao wears the ring Hanbin was given by his mother. It’s feminine, dainty, but it suits Zhang Hao more than anything ever has. Somehow, he thinks his mother would approve of him, approve of them. Despite their desperate desire to be married, this is as close as they can get, at least for now. Hao isn’t shy about the rings either. He shamelessly places his hand on the shoulder opposite the one his head rests on, letting the ring glint in the candlelight of the room.
“Congratulations,” a man hums, joining the conversation.
“Hmm?” Hanbin hums, holding Hao’s hip just a tad bit tighter.
Hao smiles brightly, kissing Hanbin’s cheek, “Thank you. Of course, you know there cannot be anything formal.” His voice went a bit melancholic at the end, “It’s what we can have, though.”
Neither of them knows this man; he seems to be accompanying the woman they had been talking to a moment ago. She dismissed herself to speak with a debutante who’s attending tonight. Even still, Hanbin airs on the side of caution, but Hao doesn’t seem to be as concerned. Maybe due to the fact that he was raised at these kinds of events, he knows how to be sly about his concerns. There’s something off about this man; Hanbin can’t quite place it, but something’s just not right about him.
“You wish to be together forever?” The man asks.
It’s a rather invasive yet glaringly obvious question in Hanbin’s opinion. While yes, ideally, they’d both love to be together, through everything, as long as they both live, and even further past that. It’s a rather invasive question for a first meeting. It rubs Hanbin the wrong way. If it does the same to Hao, he doesn’t let it show. Hao shifts slightly, standing up straight next ot Hanbin but keeping a hand on him regardless.
“Is that not obvious?” Hao says, a sassy edge to his tone, “The son of the church running away to be with the son of the most influential aristocrats in the country. Seems like we gave up a lot to be together, no?”
The man puts his hands up as if to surrender, “I didn’t mean to poke a sore wound. My apologies. Would you like to hear of a way I can assist you in your goals?”
“How so?”
“I know of a way to ensure you both can be together for the rest of eternity.”
A pregnant silence fills the room. Of course, not in all actuality, it only feels silent to Hanbin and Hao. There couldn’t be a way that they could be together in their society. It couldn’t be possible. But here comes this stranger telling them they could do it. The aura surrounding the man still feels off to Hanbin; he knows something’s off about him. Still, that glimmer of hope that he can love Hao forever as much as they wish sounds almost too good to be true.
“C-could you give us time to think your offer over?” Hao asks, trying to remain calm.
The man nods, “Of course, find me before the end of the party and we’ll take care of everything.”
With one more polite nod and a slight bow, the couple dismisses themselves into the gardens. The moonlight shines brightly; it’s a full moon, and it makes everything feel so much more magical and romantic. They just wander for a few minutes, linking their fingers together as they walk through the paths. A few other people are walking around the gardens as well, not nearly close enough to hear whatever exchanges they are having. The gravel beneath their feet crunches with each step, and frogs and cicadas chirp and sing in the warm air of the night.
“What do you think?” Hanbin asks softly.
Hao hums, “I think we should see what he has to offer. We’ve been talking about getting married even if it’s not recognized by the church, but he seems to have a legitimate way for us to do so.”
“But we don’t know his methods… what if he–”
“We need to hear him out at least.”
Hanbin nods, “We want to be together, happily, forever.” He sighs lightly, “Should we go for it?”
“I think we should.”
I find a stone bench to sit on, and somehow it ends up being that Hao is in his lap, kissing him breathless. Yes, there are other people around, but do either of them care? Not entirely. Something was about to change forever. Hopefully for the better. They’re so hopelessly in love, all they can hope for now is that this stranger can help them grow further into their love. Unease fills Hanbin’s stomach, manifesting in the form of a tornado of butterflies. He’s not sure whether they’re good or bad; they’re just… there.
It doesn’t take terribly long for them to find the man again. He’s talking to whom they assume to be the host of the party. He’s laughing boisterously with the other man, and the light in the room catches on rather long, sharp teeth in his mouth. Maybe it’s just how he is, maybe it’s jewelry; either way, it’s an odd detail that Hanbin notices. As they draw closer, the man seems to notice the couple approaching. Hao’s arm linked with Hanbin’s as it almost always is. The host also notices them spreading his arms wide as he bows to them politely.
“Zhang Hao, Sung Hanbin!” He beams, “Great to finally catch sight of you tonight. How are you enjoying things?”
“Things are lovely,” Hao smiles sweetly, shaking out his hair a little bit, “One of the nicest parties I’ve attended in a while. We greatly appreciate your warmth and hospitality regarding our relationship as well. Unfortunately, many others have shunned us and revoked invitations due to our relationship. We’re genuinely grateful you have not done such.”
The host smiles brightly again, “Of course! I could never find it in myself to turn away such a handsome and well-mannered couple. Oh, how rude of me, have you met my close friend here?” he gestured toward the man beside him.
“Yes,” Hanbin hums, a tight, yet still bright smile on his face, “He introduced himself earlier. In fact, we have business to attend to with him. Apologies for stealing him away; however, the matter we must discuss is private.”
The host smiles again, dismissing himself, leaving just this strange man and the couple to talk. Without a word, the man jerks his chin and implies that Hanbin and Hao follow him. Where they’re going, they have no idea, but more privacy is probably better, given that they will be creating a union against the church’s wishes. More specifically, against the wishes of Hanbin’s father. They go deep into the manor, the candles aren’t lit in the corridors, and the low roar of the party cannot be heard anymore. An eerie feeling fills the space. Hao squeezes Hanbin’s arm, gaining his almost-husband’s attention. Although Hanbin is nervous too, he tries to put on a brave face for both of them. Suddenly, the man stops in his tracks ahead of them. He stands there, silent, unmoving. The eerie feeling becomes even more potent.
“You won’t wake up for a while.” The man speaks, an odd tone in his voice.
“Wha—”
As Hanbin starts to respond the man lunges at him. A piercing shriek escapes Hao’s lips as his teeth sink into Hanbin’s throat. Crimson blood stains Hanbin’s clothing as he goes slack in his attacker’s arms. Hao freezes in his place, hands shaking as the cover his mouth. Tears well up in his eyes unsure of what to do as he watches Hanbin’s eyes roll back in his head. Hanbin was being murdered right in front of his eyes. Their attacker gently guides Hanbin’s limp body to the ground before turning to Hao. His mouth is still dripping with blood as he smiles kindly as if nothing was amiss. His teeth are covered in blood and his eye teeth are sharp like blades.
“Apologies,” he hums, pulling out a handkerchief out to him, “Wipe your eyes, he’s not dead… at least not entirely. You’ll join him soon.” He sighs, “You both should wake in a few days or weeks.”
“Wh-what are you? Hao barely mutters out, his eyes fixated on Hanbin’s body.
“I think you know what I am. Are you prepared?”
“I can’t— I can’t be ready for death. No one ever is.”
“Isn’t that true, dear boy. You’ll be with your husband forever, isn’t that what you wanted?”
Hao doesn’t get to respond before everything goes black around him accompanied by stabbing pain in his neck. Darkness swallows him and there is nothing left.