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“Hanbin-hyung, they’ve got wind of us. You’ve got to get out of there!”
There was not a flicker in Sung Hanbin’s facial expression, as he took in Gunwook’s frantic voice in his ear. In front of him, a rich, old lady was still going on and on about her son’s incredibly thoughtful charity project, and Hanbin made sure he seemed one-hundred percent interested. But he noticed, in his periphery, a dozen guards in uniformed black suits coming into the hall, their necks craning as though searching for someone. Most likely Hanbin himself.
“…he’s very determined, you know? My dear boy, he invited several friends from his college days to help reach out to potential donors. Have I told you that he goes to Ashford College?”
She had, and she obviously knew it. She was not old enough or frail enough to lose it yet. But Hanbin knew she wanted to brag about her son’s education again, so he went along with a polite smile. He infiltrated this party as a young lord from an old and obscure family, who was trying to rebuild connections with the elite society. Until he could get out of here, he had to stick to his role.
“No, madam. Isn’t that the private college with the most expensive tuition in this country?”
“Yes, dear, exactly that,” the lady laughed, merrily, to herself. “He made a lot of friends there. I think he was in some kind of fraternity for students with excellent grades. Not that I ever pressured him to study….”
Hanbin kept a polite smile on his face but took the opportunity when the lady sipped her wine to glance around for a way out. In his ear, he heard Gunwook repeated the retreat order more and more loudly. Jiwoong, who was undercover as a waiter, and Matthew, whose role was to plant a surveillance program in a computer in this manor, had already escaped and regrouped with Gunwook in their van.
“Hanbin-hyung, you’ve got 3 minutes to get out of there,” said Gunwook again. “They’re starting to search the perimeter. If you’re not here by then, I’ll have to leave.”
“…so you see, I’m a bit worried about how the media will view this as self-satisfactory and boastful,” the lady was still not done with her son’s story. “It’s truly difficult for us rich people to do any real good in this society. People always think we have some hidden agenda.”
“Yes, I understand,” replied Hanbin to both the lady and to Gunwook at the same time. Behind him, the guards were getting closer. “I truly commend your son. Is he perhaps looking for another collaborator? What kind of person might he be interested in? I’m not asking for myself, of course, but I know quite a lot of people who are also devoted to his cause.”
The merry light in the lady’s eyes suddenly dimmed, as she started to suspect Hanbin of trying to get a dip in the profit and quickly explained that her son already had everything ready to launch the project. Meanwhile, Gunwook immediately caught Hanbin’s metaphor and answered. “They are definitely looking for an unfamiliar face. People in this elite circle all know each other. So, if no one could vouch for your identity, you’re done. Actually, with the way you’ve been introducing yourself to people throughout the party, someone might already alert the guards to go and question you.”
As soon as Gunwook finished saying that, Hanbin caught a businessman he had talked to earlier in the evening talking to a guard and gesturing in his direction.
Time was running out.
“Well, it’s very nice talking to you, but I should return to my husband now,” the lady excused herself, probably thinking that she was protecting her son’s profit, just as Hanbin had planned. He bid her farewell in a soft and measured voice, no trace of panic in his expression, as he stood still, watching the lady leave. A waiter passed by and presented him with a tray of drinks, which he indolently surveyed with the manner of someone accustomed to being served.
“Hanbin,” Jiwoong’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear. “If you can’t get out, then go find Hao.”
The fingers that were about to hook around a champagne flute trembled and missed, almost knocking the glass out of the tray. Hanbin quickly regained his composure, picked up the glass, and walked to the balcony, because the doors were already heavily blocked by more guards. In his periphery, he could see three guards cutting across the hall towards him. Fortunately, they seemed like they were trying to be low-key and not alert the guests of spies. So, they could not walk too fast.
“What did you say?” He hissed into the microphone, as soon as he was distant enough from the crowd.
“I saw him when I was serving drinks earlier,” replied Jiwoong, calmly.
“You saw who?”
“Zhang Hao,” said Jiwoong, and then, as though he thought Hanbin might not know whom he was talking about, “your ex.”
A gust of cold wind blew past Hanbin, making him shiver uncontrollably. Or at least, he told himself it was because of the wind, not a mere name.
Zhang Hao.
“2 minutes,” said Gunwook.
“No need to give me a countdown,” said Hanbin, keeping his voice level with much more difficulty than before. “They already blocked the exit. I can only hide or force my way through, both of which have a low chance of success. Just leave. You already have a record of all my conversations so far, especially the one about the upcoming charity swimming event. That should be enough to plan our next move.”
There was a complete silence on the other side. They were all professional spies and had been a team for almost three years. Their tacit understanding was unquestionable. Gunwook, Matthew, and Jiwoong trusted that, if Hanbin said there was no way he could make it to the van in time, then there was really no way. Panicking, worrying, or being sentimental was even more pointless. There was nothing to say, but that did not mean that they happily accepted the situation.
Matthew’s voice was anxious. “Tell me you have a plan.”
Hanbin guzzled all the champagne and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Tonight’s full moon shone right on his face, reflecting a glint off his determined but self-mocking eyes. “I only have one option, don’t I?”
There was no need to say out loud what option he was talking about. His teammates did not voice any arguments or support. After a beat, Jiwoong only said, “See you back at the base. Over.”
And then, the signal was cut. Hanbin removed the wireless earphones and microphone from his body and threw them over the balcony. Now, there was no physical evidence on him. If he was captured, he might be suspected, but he could not be convicted.
Still, it would be best if he could avoid getting captured altogether.
Hanbin took a deep breath and turned around, facing the guards, and was about to walk back into the hall, when he heard a voice.
“Hanbin?”
Hanbin did not believe in superstition, but it seemed like the universe was on his side, sending an exit ticket his way and saving him a lot of time. He turned to the side and unsurprisingly came face to face with a young man with dark hair and wondrous eyes, whom he still dreamt of almost every night.
Zhang Hao’s suit was obviously tailored for him. It highlighted his broad shoulders and hugged his waist perfectly. Hanbin’s hands itched to grab him by the waist and pull him close. He mentally reined his die-hard habit and met the man’s gaze with a practiced smile.
“Hi, Hao-hyung.”
They met and started dating in college.
At that time, Hanbin was already getting trained as a spy. After graduation, he got sent on various missions, both domestic and international. The agency provided him with cover story and evidence, so that he could lie to Hao that he went abroad for an academic conference or could not come home for the night because there was an urgent meeting at his office. To Hao, Hanbin was supposed to be a salaried software engineer for an automobile company and a completely ordinary, albeit workaholic, boyfriend.
Apparently, that had not been enough for Hao.
Not that Hanbin blamed him.
He still remembered the day they broke up vividly. It was near the end of the year. The whole city was covered in snow and colorful Christmas lights. If Hanbin had been an actual engineer, he would have already finished working for the year.
Instead, that evening, he was assigned on an urgent mission to stop a terrorist act on a satellite control system. Hao had told him earlier that day that he had booked a table at a restaurant where they went on their first date, and Hanbin had replied that he would be there at 6pm. When the mission came in, he could only send a quick message to Hao saying that there was an urgent bug in their autonomous driving system that he needed to fix. Again. And then, he turned off his phone and set off with his team.
When he finally returned to the base at 11pm, he turned on his phone, expecting to see Hao’s message, saying that he understood, as usual, and that he had already canceled the reservation and gone home.
Instead, Hao’s message was, I’ll wait .
Realizing that something was not right, Hanbin, still aching and exhausted from harsh combat and intense negotiation, drove to the restaurant.
The windows were dark and the LED lights that spelled the restaurant’s name had already been shut down. For a second, Hanbin thought that Hao had probably already gone home, and that he had wasted his time coming here. But then, he saw a shadow of a man leaning against the lamp, staring at his feet, under the falling snow. You could tell how long he had been standing there by the amount of snow gathering on his boots. Even without seeing his expression, he looked very sad and resigned.
Hanbin’s heart skipped a beat. He got out of the car, stumbled a little because he forgot that he sprained his right ankle during the mission. But he gritted his teeth and showed no sign of pain on his face. He had been living two lives for many years, and he always made sure the two lives never touched each other.
But Hao saw him slip anyway and quickly strode to him. Except that Hao had been standing still in the cold for so long that his legs had cramped up, too, and so he ended up falling onto the ice with a loud thud.
“Hao-hyung!”
Hao pushed himself up before Hanbin arrived to give him a hand. The streetlamp illuminated his high cheekbones and sparkling eyes. He stared at Hanbin. The quiet moment stretched out between them. Then, just when Hanbin was about to speak, Hao’s face broke into a smile.
“I didn’t think you would come.”
“I also didn’t think I would come,” replied Hanbin, a little breathlessly. “The restaurant is already closed anyway. But I saw your message and….”
Why are you still here? Why didn’t you go home? Why do you have to stand in the snow? Aren’t you cold? Don’t you know you would get sick like this? What if I didn’t come? Would you have stood out here all night? Your mom already blamed me for luring her precious son away from a grandiose life. Why do you make your life extra hard for no reason?
Hao probably understood every single question just from looking into Hanbin’s eyes, because he sighed and said, “Do you remember what day is today?”
Hanbin should have already understood everything by that one question. But his brain had been overworked from the mission, and he just stood there, dumbly.
“It’s our fifth anniversary.”
Hanbin looked at the restaurant’s name again and felt everything clicked into place.
When he had started working, he made sure to free himself on their special days in advance. But as time went by, he slowly forgot to file for these breaks. Maybe it was because Hao had been too understanding throughout the years. Hanbin had been going on missions more frequently, but Hao never questioned his cover stories. He never blamed Hanbin for canceling their plans. He just gave Hanbin gifts on Valentine’s Day and never demanded any gifts in return.
And Hanbin took his kindness as an opportunity to stop caring. Blood rushed to his head, coloring his cheeks red in shame.
“I’m sorry,” Hanbin whispered, his voice breaking. “I can’t believe I forgot. I’m so….”
“Don’t be,” said Hao. He looked and sounded very tired. But he lifted his gloved hands to brush some hair out of Hanbin’s eyes, and his eyes were soft. “I’m sorry, too, that I made you come all the way here when you’re already so exhausted from all the programming and meetings. Is your ankle alright?”
Hanbin swallowed. He could lie, saying that his ankle was totally fine, or that he just slipped a little on the ice in front of his imaginary office. But this time, the lie got stuck in his throat.
He had saved a lot of strangers’ lives tonight, but he totally failed the person who mattered most to him.
“I didn’t mean to make you worried, standing out here in the snow. It’s just that the restaurant closed, and I was lost in my thoughts as I stood here, so I didn’t notice the temperature,” said Hao. Then, he sighed, “I was thinking… Maybe we shouldn’t be together.”
Hanbin froze. His eyes widened. “Hao-hyung, I….”
“Listen to me, please,” Hao stared at Hanbin, still looking warm and kind, but also determined. “I’ve been thinking for a while, but… it’s clear that we have different priorities in our lives. I know that you love your work. And I want to support you, Hanbin. I really do. But I’m also a selfish person.”
Hanbin was completely lost now. Hearing Hao’s name and the word selfish in the same sentence simply did not compute.
“When I finish working at 5pm on weekdays and come home, I always secretly wish that you would already be loitering around the kitchen and that we can have dinner together,” Hao continued. “But I’m also afraid that if I tell you what I want, you will stretch yourself thin to make me happy. Like today, when you’re already so tired from work, and still, you came to find me, even though you didn’t remember what today was or why I was being unreasonable….”
Each word felt like a blade, as it fell on Hanbin’s heart.
“Hanbin-ah, aren’t you tired?”
Hanbin was not tired. How could he be tired? Hao had always been so supportive of him. When he came home from a difficult mission, he was always greeted with a clean house, a hot meal, and Hao’s open arms. When he had to kill someone or fail to save someone, Hao would just give him any comfort or space he asked for without ever asking for an explanation.
(Actually, there seemed to be times when Hao asked for explanations, but eventually he stopped asking. Maybe the explanation became predictable, or maybe he could tell that Hanbin was lying.)
But Hanbin could see that Hao was tired.
Would it have been any different if Hanbin had told the truth? The question arose in his mind and was quickly banished. After all, it was against the rules of the agency and was therefore pointless.
Hanbin put his arms around Hao and kissed him chastely on the lips. The tip of Hao’s nose was very red from the cold, and Hanbin kissed that, too.
“I’m not tired,” answered Hanbin, honestly. “But if you are, then I won’t – I can’t – keep hurting you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Hao, quietly. “I wish I was stronger than this. For you.”
I wish you didn’t need to be this strong for us. I wish I could indulge in all your selfishness. But I also wish we didn’t fall in love with each other. I wish you fell for someone that was easier than me. I wish you never had to feel this pain at all.
“No,” said Hanbin. “I don’t wish for you to be any stronger. I love you exactly as you are.”
“And I you,” said Hao. “No matter what we become in the future, I will love you, always.”
And now, standing underneath the chandelier, surrounded by rich old families and chamber music, Hao looked so good that Hanbin almost forgot who he was and what he was supposed to do. But the guards were approaching. Hanbin did not have time to run mental simulations or second-guess his instinct.
He took another step closer to Hao and put his hand on Hao’s waist, like he had not done for over a year.
Beneath his touch, Hao’s whole body stiffened.
“Hey, darling,” Hanbin raised his voice a little, for the guards to hear. “Sorry for leaving you alone. I got a little carried away with the conversations.”
Hao stared at his face, still looking genuinely shocked, which was not something that would sell their story. Hanbin suppressed the guilt and desire bubbling in his chest and winked, casually, hoping it would be enough for Hao to trust him enough to play along.
Hao’s expression suddenly changed. He still looked a little stiff, but he did not look surprised anymore. The approaching guards seemed to falter a little, but they were still approaching, so Hanbin decided to turn it up a notch and leaned in to kiss Hao on the cheek, as if placating a lover after pulling a prank on him.
To Hao’s credit, he did not pull away. He only froze for a moment, then raised the glass of red wine in his hand to Hanbin. His voice trembled a little, as he said, “You must be thirsty, then?”
Hanbin accepted the wine and took a sip. Although it was a simple action, he felt that his motion was not very natural. After being a spy for so long, he discovered for the first time that it was difficult to act when there was a real feeling involved, and that it was especially difficult when there were several feelings mixed inside your chest.
The guards arrived then. One of them touched Hanbin lightly on the shoulder to get his intention. Hanbin pretended like he had not noticed the guards at all, just a little widened eyes and a few innocent blinks.
“Oh, hi,” he said, voice light and cheerful.
“Good evening,” said the guard in a low voice, so that only Hanbin and Hao could hear. “We’re conducting a search, as we receive a report that some dangerous people have disguised themselves into this party. Some guests told us that they have never seen you before. In order to prevent any misunderstanding, please show us your identification.”
These guards were well-trained, Hanbin thought, as he listened to the subtle request.
“I’m Han Gyuvin,” he answered, smoothly, and pretended to search his wallet for a few seconds, even though he knew exactly which slot had the fake ID. “Wait a moment, let me see… Here's my driver's license.”
The guard checked the ID thoroughly and asked for another ID. Hanbin pretended to frown a little bit, as though uncomfortable to be questioned, but eventually produced a healthcare card. But before he could give it to the guard, Hao, who had been observing the situation quietly this whole time, spoke up.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said. His voice was very powerful, and his accent smooth. Unlike Hanbin, he did not have to act to blend it with the rest of the high-class people here. “I don’t appreciate you questioning my boyfriend. The other guests might not know Gyuvin, because I’ve never brought him to this kind of event before. But that doesn’t mean he’s a dangerous person. After all, I think I would know if my boyfriend suddenly put on a disguise.”
The guard, who interviewed Hanbin, frowned. His colleagues started to look a little uncomfortable. The last thing they wanted was to offend an important guest. “And you are?”
“I’m Zhang Hao. If you’re also doubtful about my identity, my mother is a co-organizer of this event, and I’ve had business dealings with half of the people in this room.”
With these words, it was over. The guards could not afford to offend Hao, and if Hao said Hanbin was his lover, then they also could not linger around to question Hanbin. They quickly apologized for bothering the pair, then turned around to continue their search, looking quite frustrated and desperate.
Hanbin internally sighed in relief, then slowly removed his hand from Hao’s waist. The naturalness in his conversation with the guards disappeared, and he suddenly felt awkward again.
What could he say to Hao now? Thank you for covering my lies even though I didn’t tell you anything? No, he could not say that while there were still some guards in his vicinity. Let’s go outside for a bit. No, that was too presumptuous. Hao might not want anything to do with him at all, so why would he follow him outside? I’ll be leaving first. No, that would just make him seem ungrateful. He could not just leave. But it was not like he could explain everything to Hao either. He had already breached some protocols by involving civilians in his mission, even if the said civilian was ignorant of the mission’s true purpose.
“Well, that was interesting,” said Hao, his deep voice pulling Hanbin out of his thoughts. When Hanbin looked up, he found that Hao was staring at him meaningfully.
“It sure was,” he replied, keeping his voice light, even though his cheeks were burning under the attention.
“I wonder what you would look like in a disguise,” Hao said. Contrary to Hanbin’s expectations, his tone was very natural and even carried a little sense of teasing.
Hanbin raised his eyebrows, unsure where this was going. “I would probably just look like this.”
Hao’s eyes gleamed with subtle intensity. “Then… what about under the disguise?”
Hanbin’s breath hitched. Even though they had not seen each other for a year, he still knew that look and that tone. His body still reacted very strongly to it, so strong that Hanbin himself was surprised. He had thought that he had moved on. He had thought that he no longer missed Hao that much.
Now, the desire that he was barely able to suppress before rose to the surface, and the truth of his own feeling gripped him hard enough to suffocate.
Hanbin did not understand how Hao felt about him. He knew that Hao had never liked casual sex. So, what did it mean that he said something suggestive like that when he and Hanbin were no longer in a relationship?
“Well?” Hao prompted him, gently.
Hanbin took a deep breath. Beneath every question, he realized that two things were clear: he missed Hao very much, and he trusted Hao enough that he would follow him anywhere for no reason at all.
He kept his eyes fixed on Hao’s and said, “you’ll have to take off the disguise yourself to find out.”
The sex was not casual.
It was exactly like what they had had when they were in a relationship. Hao took his sweet time to shower Hanbin with soft kisses everywhere. Hanbin held on to Hao and bit at his collarbones. They kissed and called each other’s name without reservation. They demanded from and encouraged each other. They asked and answered as though dancing to a song they had always known.
They said “I love you” to each other like it meant nothing and everything.
What does this mean? Hanbin thought, as he laid in Hao’s arms, sweaty and blissful. He wanted to ask, but he was afraid of the answer. What if Hao said that this was, indeed, just something casual? Hanbin told himself that he trusted Hao, that he did not need any reasons, that he was satisfied with anything.
But maybe he was not. Maybe he wanted more.
Hanbin’s thought was cut short when Hao sweetly kissed the top of his head, and he instantly melted deeper into the embrace. He could not help it. It was like he couldn’t not trust Hao. His heart, body, and soul had been conditioned to feel safe around this person.
Hao’s thumb rubbed a soothing circle around Hanbin’s forearm. But soon, his breath evened out, and he fell asleep.
And Hanbin really should leave.
He should call his teammates and tell them he was fine. He should discuss the next phase of the operation with them. He should go home to his little apartment that he never really bothered to clean, since he was not there that often anyway.
He should leave. But instead, he lied there, listening to Hao’s breathing, staring at the ceiling, and feeling confused and hopeless.
Tonight, he discovered that Hao was actually a very decent liar. He was also observant and could help Hanbin out of his predicament in a succinct and elegant manner. This should mean that he could also recognize Hanbin’s lies.
Or did he think that Hanbin had never told him any truth? When Hanbin said that he would look the same in his disguise, did Hao take that as a confirmation that he had never really known Hanbin at all?
Suddenly, Hanbin wanted to shake Hao’s awake and made him talk.
He remembered that they used to talk a lot. When they were still in college, they would go to each other’s dorm to do homework, and then they would end up talking about anything and everything. Later on, when he was preoccupied with work, he was too tired to talk about anything “unnecessary,” and so their conversation dwindled a lot. But Hanbin had not noticed then. He had thought that, if Hao wanted to talk to him about something, he would bring it up. He did not think that Hao would see how tired he was and hold back as to not bother him, too.
“You’re thinking very loudly.”
Hao’s murmur sounded right next to Hanbin’s ears. His low voice sent a tingle down Hanbin’s spine. Hanbin jolted a little and turned his face to look at Hao, whose eyes were still closed, although he was now obviously awake.
“Sorry,” he said. “Maybe you should let go of me….”
“No, I really shouldn’t,” said Hao, his arms tightening slightly around Hanbin. “What are you thinking about? If you can’t say, then just pretend I didn’t ask.”
Hanbin felt his guilty conscience poking at him because of the last sentence. Hao had never said that to him before, when they were dating.
“I’m thinking about work. I’m thinking about you. The usual deal,” said Hanbin. And then, before he could second guess himself, “I’m thinking about you corroborating my fake ID back there and telling the guards that I’m your boyfriend.”
Hao’s arms loosened a little around him. For a while, neither of them spoke, and Hanbin almost thought that Hao had fallen back to sleep, when the latter suddenly spoke.
“Were you ever an engineer?”
There it is, Hanbin thought. How much can I give him without endangering him and the agency?
“Actually, that was a stupid question. I think I already know the answer,” Hao continued before Hanbin could say anything. “My question is actually this: are you a criminal?”
“No,” Hanbin answered at once. “Of course not.”
Immediately, he could feel Hao relaxed around him. He could feel another kiss on his hair. He could feel Hao squeezing his arms a little, like he used to do when Hanbin had a bad day and needed extra comforting. Hao seemed happy and content now, but Hanbin did not understand how he could be content so easily.
“Don’t you have anything else to ask?”
Hao chuckled a little. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”
Hanbin bit his lips and ran through every detail about his work and his mission. He wanted to give Hao something. He felt like he owed Hao something. But whatever he said, it would still be a lie. He would either omit the important parts of it or he would disguise it to the extent that it was unrecognizable.
He really, really did not want to lie to Hao anymore.
“It makes sense now,” said Hao, when Hanbin did not answer his questions. “I probably should’ve thought of this possibility before, but, well, it felt a bit far-fetched that my boyfriend would be something out of a movie. Han Gyuvin, really…” he laughed again. “Can you at least tell me if Sung Hanbin is your real name?”
“Yes,” Hanbin nodded, firmly. This much, he could give. “This is probably going to sound like bullshit, but that person who was your boyfriend was the real me…. Well, except for the engineer part, of course.”
“Hmm,” Hao hummed, thoughtfully, before smiling against Hanbin’s hair. “The engineer part wasn’t the main part that made me love you anyway.”
Hao’s easy and tactful acceptance made Hanbin suddenly want to cry.
Hao never said the word spy. He did not bring up each and every time Hanbin lied to him about his software engineer work. He did not say that he forgave Hanbin for missing their fifth anniversary dinner, nor did he demand to know what mission Hanbin did that day.
It struck Hanbin that the unconditional trust he gave to Hao earlier today was right. He could trust Hao to not hurt him. He could trust that Hao would not put him in difficult situations. If Hao happened to know something, then it was simply his own deduction. He would not demand that Hanbin placed him above the agency rules.
It also struck Hanbin that this trust was something Hao had given him for as long as they dated each other. That was how he held out for five years, even though he had noticed all along that Hanbin’s cover story was all false.
“I missed you,” said Hanbin, because he did not know what else to say.
“I missed you, too,” said Hao, easily. “Can you tell me anything about your life in the time after we broke up? I want to know every little tidbit you can share with me.”
“My life is more or less the same as when we dated, just that these days I took on more work and only went home to take a shower and sleep,” said Hanbin, truthfully. “I thought of getting a dog once, but then I realized that I wouldn’t be able to take care of it. I wouldn’t be able to even keep a… what’s the easiest pet to raise?”
“A pet cactus?”
Hanbin burst out laughing at that. “Right. That reminds me. I’ve actually killed two cactuses in the past year. So, you know how bad it is.”
“That sounds harsh,” said Hao. He was starting to rub a circle on Hanbin’s arm again. “A few months ago, I adopted a stray kitten. But my sister-in-law is pregnant now and, somehow, instead of wanting something sour, she wants to play with a cat. My brother is afraid that, if they get their own cat, then when the baby is born, their hands will be too full. So, I loaned my cat to him. It’s a perfect solution for everyone.”
“Oh, Meiying-ssi is pregnant?”
“Yes. Six months now. They did ultrasound and apparently they’re getting a baby girl,” said Hao. His warm and raspy voice scratched at Hanbin’s heart. “They’re both very happy. My brother says that you need to worry over a girl’s safety more than a boy’s, but a girl would likely be easier to raise.”
“Probably not that easy anyway,” mumbled Hanbin. “At least not for someone who kills cactuses like me.”
Hao laughed and gave the loose strands of Hanbin’s hair another kiss.
Their conversation drifted leisurely from one topic to another. Sometimes, they exchanged words for kisses. Not the passionate ones, but the slow, sloppy, open-mouthed ones that felt more like sharing each other’s air than kissing.
They broke up one year ago, but they had stopped doing this for longer than that. Hanbin thought he might have always been missing Hao, even before they broke up. But his priority was for work, then Hao, then himself. So, whenever he wanted to be clingy and spoiled, he reminded himself to not be indulgent, to not take more than he already had.
But a relationship was not a business transaction. And what Hanbin needed and what Hao needed…
“You’re thinking very hard again,” said Hao with a soft chuckle.
Hanbin bit his lower lip. It all came back to the same questions. Why were they doing this? Where were they going with this? What did Hao want out of this?
“Just ask me,” said Hao. “Whatever you want to know. You know I always answer you honestly.”
Hanbin reached out, tentatively, before slowly hooking his pinky finger to Hao’s. Hao seemed a little surprised, but he quickly shifted his grip to intertwine the rest of their fingers. He even brought the back of Hanbin’s hand to his lips for good measure.
The words tumbled out of Hanbin’s mouth like a broken dam. “Do you want to get back together?”
It sounded both accusatory and desperate, but Hao did not seem put off by it, nor did he seem surprised.
“Yes, of course,” he said, very simply. “But I also want it to be different from before.”
Hanbin frowned.
“I won’t ask you to quit your job, of course,” Hao added, quickly. “I only mean that, I want you to also let me think for us. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep up your lies to keep me. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t ask me for something because you haven’t done enough for me to gain credits for a new request. I want you to tell me, I can’t come home today because there’s an urgent job that I’m not allowed to tell you about and trust me with that.”
“That wouldn’t change anything,” said Hanbin. “I would still be missing our anniversary dinners.”
“But I won’t have to keep guessing why you have to lie on our anniversary,” replied Hao. “I thought about our relationship for a long time, but it only clicked today that what made me tired wasn’t the time you spent away from home, but always doubting why you lied and never arriving at any answers. Was it because your work was confidential? Was it because you had some problems you couldn’t tell me about? Was it because you were bored of me and were seeing someone else? I never really thought that was the case, of course, but my mind was going haywire with uncertainty. I need to know that you’ll always be honest with me, and that includes telling me straightforwardly that your work is confidential but legal.”
At that time, Hanbin had thought Hao was oblivious, that he bought all his cover stories and so never questioned anything. But if Hao had always been suspicious, then Hanbin could only imagine how anxious and unsteady Hao had felt in their relationship. He sighed and squeezed Hao’s hand a little. “I’m sorry. If I’d known sooner, I would’ve….”
“You couldn’t have known,” said Hao. “It’s my fault, too, for not asking. I thought, what if I press you and you turn out to be a serial killer? I’m confident enough to ask you now only because you let me see Han Gyuvin’s driver’s license. You gave me a hint to an answer that fits every single one of my questions.”
Hanbin chuckled at that.
“What are you laughing about?”
“You thought I could be a serial killer or having an affair, but you still didn’t ask?”
Hao pouted a little. “It was just the worst-case scenario. As I said, based on what I know about you, I didn’t really suspect that you were a serial killer or having an affair.”
“This I can confirm,” said Hanbin. “I’m definitely not a serial killer, and I never have an affair.”
Hao smiled, “That’s good to hear.”
“So…” Hanbin said, then faltered. He had half a mind to pull back his hand and the other half to grip onto Hao even more tightly. “Does this mean… we…?”
It was silent for a moment. Hanbin’s heart sped up, then down, as his hope rose and then was forcefully suppressed. He had not spent a lot of time thinking about their relationship after their breakup – not as much as Hao had, for sure – but he had thought enough to reach a conclusion that he should not be in a relationship. He would never leave his job, and it would be unfair to ask someone to bear it with him.
“I’ve talked about what I want, but I haven’t asked you yet,” said Hao, quietly. “What do you want, Hanbin? Do you want us to get back together? After all, I hurt you when I gave up on us last time, so I…” His voice faded to a whisper, “I’d totally understand if you never want to take a chance with me again.”
“Do you even need to ask?” Hanbin retorted, as the pressure on his heart evaporated. It did not occur to him that Hao also felt inadequate at all in their relationship. He made sure to stamp every word he said with confidence. “Of course, I want us to get back together. I want you. I want you so much that I feel bad for you.”
“You never have to feel bad for wanting me,” said Hao, immediately.
“I’m starting to see that now,” said Hanbin, smiling. “But it will take some time for me to get used to… to the idea that it’s fine for me to… to not give to you as much as you give to me.”
“You may not give me a lot of time but believe me when I say that you give me a lot of happiness,” said Hao, looking serious. “I’ve not gotten any happier after breaking up with you, even though I have more time for myself. It made me realize that maybe my happiest times were the times I spent loving you.”
Hanbin was a spy. He could not be in a normal relationship. He would have to fly to another continent on their anniversary and come home too battered to hold a decent conversation with his boyfriend. But Hao was willing to accept that. He wanted to be there for Hanbin and his job. He asked only for Hanbin to not be openly secretive instead of treating him as a fool. Hanbin thought he could at least give him that much. His instinct might kick in sometimes, trying to get him to lie, excusing that it would be for Hao’s peace of mind again. But he would correct it. He would not let Hao leave him for the second time.
Tilting his head up, Hanbin kissed Hao softly on the lips. The touch sealed a promise.
“I love you,” said Hanbin. He remembered the time when he said this in the snow in front of a closed restaurant, after an anniversary dinner unattended. It had been a final goodbye.
“And I you,” said Hao, kissing him back. Hanbin could see the same memory mirrored in his eyes, before it was replaced by a new light.
From now on, I love you would not be a mark of a farewell, but a mark of their new beginning.
A better one than last time.