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Lazy weekday afternoon, soft violin instrumental music playing as a voice hummed along. The floor-length windows were letting in ample amounts of sunlight, so much so that it felt like they were spending time outdoors if not for the lack of plants and greenery around the house - Hao often expresses his tiny regrets at not having a little garden moment, but after the third time their succulent died, Hao was finally convinced that neither of them had green thumbs.
Hanbin leaned comfortable on the L-shape couch, long legs splayed on the horizontal section as he put one hand behind his head. The sun gets a little glaring at this time of the day, but thanks to the smart film tint of the french windows, it feels just the right amount of warmth.
It's pricey, but Hao wouldn't want anything less.
Hanbin had to admit that the elder had good taste, though. He pretty much decided the overall decor of this penthouse, including the colour of the walls to the minimalist wooden carpentry furnishing, from the Persian carpets to the minimalist cream sofas made from ' performance fabric s', whatever that meant.
"It's spill resistant and easier to maintain," Hao echoed the salesman's words with a twinkle of expectation in his eyes, and that's all it takes for Hanbin to pull out his credit card.
True to the advertising, the couch is pretty easy to maintain, trial and tested with Hao's waist as a sacrifice.
( The man had stared daggers at him the following day, but he knew the best ways to melt the heart of that guarded porcupine in seconds: piping hot soup, comfy blankets, a human masseur and plenty of soothing kisses. )
He covered his mouth to hide the yawn, feeling lazier than ever. It was rare for them to have such languid days in the past, but 12 years since they met on a survival show, everything seemed to be falling into place.
Gone were days where they could only grab each other’s hand under the table of a recording studio, Hao’s fingers curling against Hanbin’s palm, tickling his senses and his heart; they no longer had to keep this awkward space in between them in public, sharing glances through the heads of other members. The long distance calls and wait when they’re both working hard in their own spaces, one in China and one in Korea, wondering if there’s any end to their relationship.
It hadn’t been all smooth sailing, but at least 12 years later, they found a common spot of peace.
Hanbin tilted his head to the side slightly, watching as Hao roamed around the open kitchen island, an occasional bark sounding by his feet. A smile crept onto his lips at the scene of serenity; it's just something about seeing Hao with an oversized tee (not his) that shadows his more lean figure and comfy slacks, dorky black frames that touch his eyebrows and bare feet pattering around the marble island that is just different.
Different from the Zhang Hao that took the stage with a gentle storm, winning fans over with his gentlemanly manners but solid talent. Different from the Hao hyung before his teammates, the shoulders that bore the weight of everyone's problems. Heck, it's even different from the proud son Hao, the cute child that curls her arm around his mother's with so much affection even at 30 years old.
This Zhang Hao, in his pyjamas and untamed hair, in his most vulnerable and comfy state, is for him and him only.
“Bubble, Bubble! Sit. Come on, hold still, let papa chop the meat first okay?” Hao’s voice rang in the space, a sound slightly deeper than their debut days, enriched with maturity. Yet, his Chinese still held that unique intonation from his hometown. Years of conversing with each other made Hanbin rather proficient, at least enough to speak and understand conversational Chinese, like what he was saying right now.
The man looked slightly awkward with his knife and chopping board, a plain blue apron hanging on him loosely as he tried not to step on the white toy poodle which decided to anchor its butt onto the floor right beside his foot.
Hao knew how to cook, as with any independent male who moved out of their house to complete university and enter a trainee program, but ever since solidifying their relationship, it was Hanbin who took the role as a chef. Time and time, Hanbin would have Hao sit around as he rolled up his sleeves, carefully preparing a bowl of tomato egg noodles, and eventually the dishes turned more complex with time. He was known for doting on the elder, pampering him to the point even fans state that Hao’s like a ‘princess’, who need not lift a finger to hold his luggage.
“You’ll spoil me like a child,” Hao once complained, but his eyes were bright and a proud smile graced his face as he leaned against Hanbin’s chest, head nuzzling into that nook of his broad shoulders.
Hanbin had pouted slightly, pressing his forehead next to the elder’s cheek, arms wrapping around his slender waist. Their hands intertwined naturally and snugly while his other free hand petted Hao’s belly lightly, “well, that’s a shame, because, there’s no other choice but to accept it.”
Because Hao deserved all the happiness in the world, and Hanbin would climb the stairway to heaven if Hao ever wanted a star.
But even as Hao enjoyed his endless pampering, he made it known that he too was one-half in the relationship; that being pampered doesn’t mean he couldn’t be Hanbin’s knight in armor, that having the most carefree smile wasn’t a sign of giving up all responsibilities.
There came a time when things became so seemingly hard to bear, where his endless doting and ‘taking a step back’ became a chip on his shoulder, gnawing at his bones.
It was a time when his contract was up for negotiations, when reality had dawned upon him in the slowest, suffocating death. Hao was spending far too much time abroad at that time. It was always a photoshoot in Milan, or another variety show panel, or a web drama ost he had to sing, or a new solo album. His life was career, career, rest, and then in the spare amounts, Hanbin.
Daily video calls turned into text messages once a fortnight, and conversations turned from photo updates and memes to meaningless commentary on the weather. Hanbin had thought their relationship had met its run, after 4 months of survival show, 2.5 years of idol life and another 7 years of re-debuting in a new group.
He was…tired. Tired of waiting, of feeling like he was the only one anticipating something in this relationship. Lonely nights of having to face an empty, cold bed at 4am after an aching training session that gradually made his heart numb,
Just when he was tethering on giving up, Hao came barging into his vision once more, tears flowing freefall as he clenched his fists around his collar. Hao was roughly an inch shorter, but that inch seemed to make him small enough to fit into his arms like two pieces of jigsaw, yet Hanbin could feel the force coming from the shaking fists.
Seeing Hao’s tears broke him more than he thought, but hearing his words was the final blow.
The nights he spent lamenting, Hao spent it planning their future. Turning his career from being a mere idol to a full-fledge artiste that could hold more authority
He was planning a future where they could hold hands freely in public, to become who they want without a care in the world, to receive blessings from the people they cared - family, friends, fans. To have an actual apartment they could call their home, a good amount of savings for investments and what-not in the case they went out of job.
Hao thought of many possibilities, all of them including Hanbin.
Love was the most beautiful thing, but greed and fear made him ugly. A younger him would never imagine how he could turn out like that - wistful and filled with doubt, of himself, and of his lover.
Having a first taste of sweetness made him an addict; starting off with a high vantage point made him too easily disappointed when things went from sugary rainbows into sour, bitter pills: When they just met, it already felt like it was just them in their bubble, against everyone else in their way. So when distance was in between them, figuratively and literally, things got a lot harder.
Perhaps, he was so engrossed playing the role of an endless giver that he forgot a relationship was a balanced scale, and Hao’s contributions weren't just smiles and tietie and big, comfy hugs. Hanbin was far too used to pampering him like a child, but Hao was never one - he was a fighter, a king in his own reign.
Hanbin had never thanked the heavens for giving him one last chance at redemption, allowing him to realise deeply that a relationship required them to be each other’s wall and shield, that it required them both to shoulder the weight of a home together, side by side.
His finger rubbed at the ring band subconsciously, feeling the weight of it on his finger as if to check if he was still in this reality. The set of rings was specially designed by him, and included their initials in true, cheesy fashion.
The staple of a wedding ring.
During their time in Zerobaseone, Hao had once tied a red thread that went loose from his red sweater around their ring fingers when they were all huddling up to watch some horror movie. Hanbin no longer remembered whose idea it was, and he did not recall a single scene of the movie, except that Hao was playing with his fingers all night long, burying his face behind his back every now and then to hide from the badly done jump scares.
They ended up falling asleep in the living room, all sprawled around, and their hands never once let go.
“...you’re done feeding Bubbles?” Hanbin asked, his eyes coming to focus as Hao walked out, a skip in his step. Ever since they adopted the toy poodle, Hao had insisted on returning to the kitchen to prepare a healthy meal himself - even though Hanbin would be the one waking up at ungodly morning hours to feed the pup.
He moved just one of his legs, sliding off the side of the couch just so the other could have space to climb on top of him, but before Hao could get near, a flash of white popped right into his view, followed by an excited lick across his cheek.
"Ah, Bubble, no!" Hao picked up the dog and bobbed it's twitching nose. "That's my seat,” he shamelessly declared, shaking his head at the puppy’s whine before setting it down on the carpet. It twirled in circles twice, seemingly complaining at the unfairness, but Hao only poked his tongue out at it and sprawled comfortably in Hanbin’s open arms.
Years had sculpted Hao into an even more charming man, with muscles in the right places. His features were slightly sharper now, but not to the point where he looked strict; the man always held an elegant poise about him that still remained - along with that glint of brightness hidden in the depths of his orbs.
“Mine,” he hummed much to Hanbin’s amusement, who laughed aloud.
Their hands find each other naturally, like opposite ends of a magnet as Hanbin raised it to his lips. The cooling sensation of the ring on Hao’s hand was yet another indicator that it wasn’t a dream, that after so many years, he finally had the man of his dreams in his arms.
A decade later, Hanbin had finally managed to put a proper ring on Hao’s beautiful, beautiful hands.
And everyone had learned of it.
“Yours,” Hanbin smiled, landing a quick smooch on the back of Hao’s hand. Before leaning down to a kiss on his nose, his eyes, his lips, “Happy Anniversary, hyung.”
“Hmm…happy anniversary…”
Kissing in the middle of a Parisian street with no camera flashes right in their faces was great - but Hanbin realised that lazing around doing absolutely nothing, just enjoying this comforting silence in each other’s embrace, was the best thing to have happened to him, ever .