Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hanbin first meets Hao when life is just teetering more on childhood than adolescence and they both fit the “gangly” description more than “lean.”

With that being said, their first encounter isn’t really anything for fanfare. 

It starts when he enters fourth grade, maybe even the summer before. His family had just moved six hours away from his hometown, his friends, his life. It’s upsetting, how new and unknown everything is. 

His parents are stressed to say the least, scurrying around to ensure the move is smooth and that all their items have arrived. Hanbin knows he should try and help, but his attempts end with his parents handing him the box of chalk while shooing him away.

“We’ll be alright, Hanbin. It looks like there are some kids around your age in this neighborhood, try to make some friends!”

So, Hanbin sits outside his new house, squatting next to his box of chalk while he idly draws some circles on the pavement.

He scribbles random lines into the pavement for a few minutes when a group of kids goes speeding by on their bikes. Hanbin watches the group zoom by when the youngest one suddenly stops in front of Hanbin’s driveway. He stands perched on his bike, feet just barely touching the ground. He takes in Hanbin’s appearance, contemplative, and Hanbin can only stare back. He hopes this boy is staring at him because he wants to be friends, and not because he thinks Hanbin is weird for sitting on the driveway by himself.

“Hey,” the boy finally calls out and Hanbin gulps, ready to flee. “Do you want to play soccer with me?” 

Hanbin blinks, not expecting the sudden invite, but nods vigorously. He and the boy kick a slightly deflated ball and chase each other around the empty parking lot next to Hanbin’s house. For the first time since the Big Change, everything feels all right.

Hanbin learns this boy’s name is Matthew and that he’s younger than Hanbin by about a year. In addition, he lives just five houses down the road. Immediately, Hanbin is ecstatic (he and Matthew are going to be the best duo at school!) but that quickly dies when he learns they go to different elementary schools. 

“You’re going to that program, right? That—that new one.” Matthew squints, trying to remember the name, but ultimately gives up and offers Hanbin a shrug instead.

“Yeah,” Hanbin sighs. Honestly, he doesn’t know much about his new school either, but he does remember his parents saying something about it being brand new. He even had to take a placement test to get in, which was way more work than he had to do at his old school. School hasn’t even started yet, and Hanbin is already dreading it.

He and Matthew play around for a while longer until he hears his parents calling out his name from their house. They part ways, with a promise to meet up again as much as possible until school starts.

The rest of summer passes like this: Matthew and Hanbin hang out with each other almost every day, and Hanbin gets used to his new environment. Two weeks before school actually starts, his mom takes him to an ice cream social where he meets all of his new classmates. He’s deposited onto a playground, surrounded with screaming children all his age, and his mom watches him from afar as he bumbles around to make friends. Hanbin is a relatively extroverted child, but he is new to the area. Luckily, he is able to find a group of good friends to call his own and, just like that, his new life begins. 

Then, school starts and Hanbin meets Hao for the first time.

It’s forgettable at best, and a trainwreck of first meetings at worst. With Hao being a year older, Hanbin doesn’t get to meet him immediately. But, the program is so small Hanbin starts to know of Hao right away.

He’s everywhere. 

It seems like all his classmates know who he is. At least once a day, Hanbin learns something new about Hao, all without ever really knowing who he is.

“He’s just a legend,” a classmate had said, voice uncharacteristically serious, when Hanbin had asked what the deal with this Hao was.

Their first official meeting starts with the math team. 

Because the program emphasizes academics, one of the activities that was advertised was the math team. Hanbin ends up joining due to constant encouragement from his parents.

“It’ll be fun!” his mother tries to coax him as she writes his name down while picking him up from school one day. “Besides, you’ll learn so many new things and meet so many new people, isn’t that great?”

Hanbin shrugs, but doesn’t complain. He doesn’t mean to brag but at his old school, he’d been the reigning quick-math champion. He hopes this math team will be similar.

The first meeting takes place after school in his math teacher’s classroom. She waves at him from behind her desk, and he smiles before he joins some classmates he recognizes seated at the front of the room. As the clock reaches the allotted club meeting hour, he waits for his teacher to stand to start the club. Surprisingly, she doesn’t even make a move to stand, just continues clicking around on her keyboard. Instead, an unfamiliar woman and a boy make their way to the front, stopping just shy of where Hanbin is seated. 

The boy is scrawny, and he doesn’t even reach the waist of the woman standing but the way he carries himself speaks numbers. The boy just attracts attention, with his confidence fitting of someone much taller, much older.

“Who’s that?” Hanbin murmurs. “Teacher’s helper?”

A nearby classmate overhears him and throws Hanbin a funny look. “No, that’s Hao.”

Ah. Hanbin turns his attention back to the front. So this is the infamous Hao.

The first thing Hanbin learns in that club room isn’t math, and an older Hanbin will look back at this moment and joke that it was probably more like physics (law of attraction and all that jazz).

It isn’t love. It’s probably not even a crush. For Hanbin, there is no falling in love or like at nine years old, especially not with someone he has only met for the first time and knows next to nothing about. However, Hanbin can’t deny Hao’s intriguing nature. How can someone just barely in their double digits hold so much skill and power while teaching a math club (which, by the way, is nothing like the quick-math tournaments his old school used to hold)?

At the end of the first meeting, Hanbin leaves with a slightly bruised ego and a newfound respect for a boy with more knowledge beyond his actual age.

“How was the math team?” His mom asks him later that night.

“It’s okay.” Hanbin pouts. “I’m not good at it though. It’s so hard. There’s this fifth grader who’s really good. His name is Hao.”

“Hm,” his mother hums. “Interesting.”

It’s an odd remark to make, but Hanbin doesn’t give it much thought since Matthew knocks on his door to ask to hang out. In fact, he completely forgets about the whole situation until a few days later, when Hao himself approaches him after a math club meeting.

Hanbin, miserably hunched over one of the worksheets they’d been handed out this week, lifts his head when he feels the seat next to him dip in weight. He finds himself face to face with Zhang Hao, who peers at all the half responses Hanbin currently has on his worksheet. 

“You wrote the wrong numbers here,” Hao suddenly says.

“Huh?” Hanbin looks to where Hao’s finger is pointing. To be honest, he had completely given up on the worksheet starting from the second question and had been writing basically nonsense since then. Anything written on the paper is a product between his delirious mind and God.

“Oh,” Hanbin starts erasing his answers. “Right, sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Hao just shrugs, like he’s used to it. “By the way, you’re Hanbin, right?” 

Hanbin, embarrassed and starstruck, only nods mutely.

Luckily, Zhang Hao doesn’t seem to mind and shoots him a smile. “My mom said she met your mom yesterday. Maybe we can be friends too.”

“Okay,” Hanbin says.

Hao opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but his attention is drawn away by one of Hanbin’s classmates and, thus, their first conversation ends there.

Afterwards, despite Hao’s declaration of their friendship, nothing much changes between their relationship. Sure, Hao waves at Hanbin in the hallways now, but they don’t really interact much beyond that. Hao is an entire year older than Hanbin, so the other spends most of his time with the fifth-graders while Hanbin spends most of his time around his fellow fourth-graders.

The small pockets of time they do have with each other are during their math team meetings, when Hao comes over to Hanbin’s table to check his progress on the worksheets. Even then, thanks to Hanbin’s constant struggle with the concepts and Hao’s ever dutiful teacher mode, most (if not all) of their conversations have to do with math. In the rare cases where they could have time to talk, Hanbin suddenly finds himself tongue-tied and the moment shatters. Each time, Hanbin is left with disappointment and a yearning to know more about the enigma that is Zhang Hao.

His fourth grade year passes in this manner, and Hanbin never really gets much closer to Hao. At the end of the year, the math club holds a friendly competition amongst themselves and some of the other elementary schools in the area. Hanbin places fifth which is—a welcome surprise, actually. Hanbin had gone into this whole thing with quite low expectations, but it seems like his time staring at his worksheets until his eyes glazed over paid off.

Hao seems to agree too, and he comes over to congratulate Hanbin. He had gotten first, as expected, and Hanbin is over the moon as he congratulates the other as well.

The school year ends, and Hao graduates with the rest of the fifth-graders. Their school doesn’t hold an official ceremony, but they do take a single morning to acknowledge the graduating class of twenty students over the announcements.

On the last day of school, he and Hao share a wave and that’s that—Hanbin doesn’t think he’ll see the other ever again, and Hao’s name becomes one of the many others occupying the back of his brain.

- ♡ -

Hanbin’s fifth grade year brings the start of more change into his life.

For starters, his family moves away to another neighborhood about a ten minute drive away in the middle of summer. Hanbin is rightfully upset, because how is he supposed to hang out with Matthew whenever he wants now? He’s only slightly placated by his parents when they help him set up his very own email address (!!) so that he and Matthew can send stupid messages to each other whenever they want. It’s not the same, and Hanbin will forget his password a few months later, but it’s enough for now and that’s all that matters.

The second change comes in the form of a brightly colored piece of paper announcing the expansion of his elementary school program into a K-8 program. Hanbin himself is ecstatic—he gets to stay with his friends for longer and his parents get to be happy with his school. It’s a win-win situation! 

However, Hanbin learns that’s not the case. His mom holds up the neon pink sheet of paper his teacher had handed to him at the beginning of the day, and her eyes widen as she skims over the announcements. Hanbin himself had taken a quick glance at the paper earlier in the day—it was hard to ignore the big, bold letters at the top—and he vibrates in his spot as he waits for his mom to finish reading.

“So?” Hanbin says, once she puts the paper down. “I’ll be staying, right? Everyone else is gonna stay.”

“Actually,” his mom replies, eyes shifting between him and the paper, “your dad and I were thinking about enrolling you in one of the local middle schools instead. It just seems like you would have more opportunities to grow in a normal middle school. Of course, we’ll listen to your thoughts and feelings too, but we’ll come to a decision at the end of the week.”

The decision is finalized just a few days later, when his parents tell him he’s been enrolled in a normal middle school. He listens to their points once more, and eventually understands this is the best choice for him. However, he still can’t help but feel a bit upset because he’s going to have to leave all of his new friends behind. It almost feels like he’s moved once again and he’s going to be thrown into a new environment where he knows no one.

His mom gives him a hug, rubbing his back comfortingly. “We know how hard of a decision this was, but we’re proud of you for understanding. Besides, you won’t be totally alone. Zhang Hao will be there too, do you remember him?”

Ah, yes. Zhang Hao, how could he forget? 

Even though Hanbin has not seen Hao at all since Hao had graduated from their elementary school program, his mom would occasionally still mention his name, and something about one of Hao’s newest achievements. It’s a little exasperating, and Hanbin turns down his mom’s suggestions to set up a hang out between them just to be petty.

However, he supposes knowing even one person, even if that person is Hao, is better than no one. 

With that, Hanbin’s fifth grade year wraps up with Hanbin feeling like he’s marching off to his death. On the last day of school, his class throws a going away party just for him, and Hanbin chokes on his sobs when his classmates and friends show up with handwritten cards and homemade treats. As Hanbin stares into the glistening eyes of all his friends, he thinks he’ll hold these precious memories close as he walks out of his elementary school for the final time to start a new chapter of his life.

- ♡ -

Middle school is decidedly less fun than elementary school.

First, there’s so much administrative stuff to complete. In elementary school, Hanbin’s important documents and events would all be taken care of by his teachers or his parents. Now, he has to start to think about it all by himself—from the classes he wants to what clubs he’d like to join, Hanbin has to actually put in effort to figure out his school schedule. He even has to attend a week-long pre-orientation set up by the school to get to know his teachers, the layout of the school, and some of his classmates.

Additionally, Hanbin’s entire grade is separated into two “houses,” so Hanbin only really gets to meet half of his classmates. They’re alright, as alright as a bunch of ten and eleven year olds can be, but Hanbin doesn’t really get to connect with them much, especially when the school allows him to take classes (actually, only one class—a math class) with the eighth graders. 

It’s all entirely overwhelming in quite honestly the worst way possible. Eighth graders tower over him like skyscrapers, and he barely escapes the radar of a few bitchy seventh graders. However, he does manage to find his classes fine, and Hanbin considers that a win with all things considered.

His experience during the first month is tumultuous, to say the least, as he adjusts to his new environment. He tries his best to keep his head down and lay low, but he somehow still manages to catch the ire of some of the popular kids for just breathing. Man, middle schoolers are brutal.

Then, one day during the daily announcements, he thinks he hears the words “math team.” He’s not quite sure since the people around him were talking a tad too loud, but no matter. The daily announcements happen to take place during his math class, so his math teacher takes a minute to give her own spiel about how they should join the math team.

For a second, Hanbin thinks about not joining. He thinks about walking right out the front doors the second the bell rings, and hopping on the bus that will take him home. But he knows his mother would be so disappointed in him, and there is nothing in this world that Hanbin hates more than his mother’s disappointment.

So, at 3:05 PM, right after the last bell rings and he gets all of his stuff from his locker, Hanbin finds himself in front of the door with a piece of paper taped to it that says, “Math team enter here!” He takes a breath, calming his nerves, then opens the door and walks inside.

There’s not a lot of people in the classroom. Other than him, maybe five or six others are littered among the desks, chatting with each other like they all know each other. There’s a boy talking with someone that seems to be the teacher, but his back is facing Hanbin so he can’t get a good look at the other’s face. 

Hanbin glances around the room again, trying to find any familiar faces, but he doesn’t see anyone he recognizes. Everyone in the room all looks a bit older than Hanbin himself, and he can’t help but feel slightly intimidated by all the new faces.

Then, the boy standing at the front of the room turns around, and Hanbin finds himself locking eyes with Zhang Hao.

It’s been a little over a year since Hanbin has seen the other, and seeing him in person again is a little surreal. Sure, he knew Hao went to this school in theory, but he’s never seen Hao in the building until today so the fact never really registered in his head. Other than his math class, Hanbin’s classes are all in the sixth grade wings which are kept away from the seventh and eighth grade classrooms. Besides, Hanbin once overheard from his mom that Hao takes some classes at one of the local high schools, so the chances of seeing Hao during school hours are extremely small. 

In any case, he’s here now, and he’s still making eye contact with Hanbin. Hao’s entire face brightens, and he excuses himself from the teacher he was talking to before he makes his way over to where Hanbin stands rooted to the ground.

“Hanbin!” Hao exclaims. “It’s so good to see you. How have you been?”

“Uh,” Hanbin stutters, “Good. I’m doing fine. How are you?”

Hao smiles, and probably says he’s doing fine too but Hanbin honestly isn’t too sure. It’s getting harder for Hanbin to focus on what Hao is saying, because Hao has gotten taller, his shoulders a little broader. He’s also grown into his features more, and his ears don’t stick out as much as they used to—all of which is to say that Zhang Hao has gotten really attractive.

Not that he wasn’t attractive before, Hanbin thinks, then immediately shoves that thought back into the recesses of his brain because he really does not want to unpack the implications of that right now.

“Anyway,” Hao says suddenly, and Hanbin’s brain snaps back into attention. “Thanks for joining the math team here. We could really use someone like you.”

Hanbin tries not to scrunch his face too much at that, because getting a compliment like that from someone like Hao was doing unthinkable things to inflate Hanbin's ego. 

Before Hanbin or Hao can say anything else, the teacher at the front of the room calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room to begin the meeting. Hao shoots Hanbin one last reassuring smile before he goes back to his seat by the front of the room, and Hanbin scoots into a seat just a row behind Hao.

The teacher hands out a packet (packet! What happened to the one page worksheets like they had in elementary school?) and goes through club expectations before finally jumping into a review of the packet. Hanbin flips through the pages, finding an amalgamation of what looks like geometry and algebra and a few other high school level concepts. He struggles to keep up, but ultimately gives up and scratches out random numbers and lines on the first page of his packet. This, at least, is familiar, and Hanbin mournfully says goodbye to his mental sanity. 

His mental sanity is degraded even further when the last fifteen minutes are used as free time to work on the packet. Even though he needs to work on the packet as well, Hao still comes around to check on him, and Hanbin has flashbacks to when Hao would do the same nearly two years ago.

As it turns out, not only is the middle school math team more work, it is also a lot more competitive than it was in elementary school. Hanbin finds out there are actual competitions, ones to compete at the regional, state, even national levels. However, this year, Hanbin doesn’t even make it past regionals, which brings an abrupt end to his math team training. Hanbin himself isn’t torn up too much about it—he’s still lacking a few fundamental concepts, for crying out loud—but Hao looks a little upset when Hanbin goes up to him to congratulate him on winning first.

“Next year,” Hao says, and it sounds like both a promise and a wish, all wrapped up in a single sentence. Hanbin nods, and suddenly feels a strong determination coursing through his veins.

His sixth grade year passes in this manner, and seventh grade creeps up on him like a snake on its prey.

He gets quite a bit busier in his seventh grade year. First, he gets to travel to the nearby high school to take some classes there. It’s just for one class, a math class, but Hanbin feels a certain sense of power strutting through the halls and knowing he’s the youngest one in the building by far. He wonders if this is how Hao must have felt his sixth grade year, and Hanbin’s internal power hunger ends there. 

Then, he’s greeted with the surprise of his life when none other than Seok Matthew waltzes into his orchestra class. Matthew looks just as shocked to see him, but he beelines over with a gigantic grin on his face. He then punches Hanbin in the arm which—ow, rude, but probably called for considering he hadn’t been replying to any of Matthew’s emails since he’d forgotten his password. 

Everything feels a hundred times easier with his best friend back by his side, and Hanbin thinks middle school isn’t that bad. Sure, he’s still struggling a little during the math team meetings, but most of the other math team members are struggling too (except Hao, of course, but Hao is most likely not human). Besides, he’s improving and that (plus the fact that Matthew is back) makes Hanbin feel like there’s nothing in the world that can take him down.

- ♡ -

Hanbin likes Hao.

With how much time Hanbin thinks about Hao, he should be less surprised by this revelation. However, no matter how well he does on his math exams or English assignments, he’s still Sung Hanbin, and Sung Hanbin is oblivious as hell. In fact, he wasn’t even the one to realize his feelings for Hao—he had to figure it out from Matthew.

It’s during their orchestra hour, and they’re hiding out in the small, musty instrument storage room. Somehow, their orchestra teacher trusted them enough to practice on their own and gave them the liberty to go into one of the practice rooms (or, in this case, a storage room) and use the hour to “sharpen and improve their skills.” Hanbin and Matthew usually just take the time to mess with the items in the room or go on their phones. 

Hanbin is rummaging through their school’s extensive music score collection when Matthew comments, offhandedly, “You know, you and Hao would be pretty cute together.”

Hanbin whips his head around, choking on a cough. “Hao, as in Zhang Hao?”

“Unless you know of another Hao, then yes, Zhang Hao.” Matthew rolls his eyes, playful. 

“That’s crazy,” Hanbin laughs, a little unsure. “We’re just friends, kind of. We barely even know each other.”

Which is true. Despite their very 5th grade-esque declaration of friendship, he and Hao haven’t really done anything where they could be considered friends. Hanbin also knows very little about the other. Sure, he knows about Hao’s dazzling achievements and all about his aspirations to go to medical school some day, but Hanbin comes to the startling realization that that’s it. Despite knowing of the other for almost four years now, he and Hao still haven’t spoken more than 100 words to each other. 

Matthew shrugs. “You two just look like you’d be a good couple. Like, the power couple of the school. Think about it.”

“That’s crazy,” Hanbin just laughs again. “You’re crazy.”

That should be the end of their conversation. However, after that, Hanbin is unable to get Hao out of his mind. He plagues his thoughts in the morning, at night, and even in his dreams—the first time Hanbin had woken after a particularly spicy dream, he was so mortified that he struggled to look Hao in the eyes even more the following week.

It’s a combination of all these factors that makes it next to impossible to keep ignoring what’s been blaring in his face this whole time. Matthew is right, Hanbin has a big, fat crush on Hao. The realization is a lot like sinking into a tub of honey—it’s sickeningly sweet, but it’ll only be a matter of time until he’s swallowed whole and left gasping for air. Hanbin can only hope that when the time comes, Hao will be there to pull him back to the surface.

- ♡ -

The rest of his seventh grade year also comes and goes. 

Math team competition season rolls around once more, and Hanbin is even more driven after remembering Hao’s reaction last year. He does make progress by entering the top ten competitors, but is unfortunately pushed out during the round of sudden death. Hanbin feels like it’s enough of an accomplishment already, and his pride only swells in response to Hao’s smile and nod of encouragement.

His eighth grade year should’ve been his year of redemption, in terms of reining in his feelings. He thought that it would be better now that he's able to get a break from Hao (or, more specifically, his feelings that arise from seeing Hao) since the other is in high school now. However, he’s caught by surprise when he walks into the first meeting and sees Hao standing in the front as a coach. It’s great for the team, since Hao is an amazing teacher, but it’s quite awful for Hanbin’s mental well-being. As if the math itself wasn’t bad enough, he’s now subjected to staring at Hao’s concentrated face as he diligently teaches the group quick tricks and fundamental concepts.

However, something about Hao being the coach seems to work because Hanbin finally manages to make it past regionals and into the state competition. He even places in the top ten at state but is, again, pushed out during the round of sudden death. However, he still manages to win a trophy for the team, and Hanbin idly thinks that he wishes Hao could’ve been there to see it. He wonders if the other would’ve been proud, if he would’ve given Hanbin something more than his little smile. 

The rest of his eighth grade year flies by and, before he knows it, he’s being faced with his middle school graduation. The middle school holds a small “ceremony” for all the eighth graders in the middle of the school day, and Matthew has a few choice words for the school about that decision.

“What’s the point if it’s at a time no one can go?” He harrumphs.

Hanbin thinks Matthew has a point, but there’s nothing that they can do about it. To make up for it, Matthew throws Hanbin a party with just the two of them, which also marks the beginning of summer. He takes advantage of his last summer before high school by relaxing and hanging out with Matthew. He also volunteers here and there, and has a few freak outs about the thought of being in high school. Overall, not a bad way to spend summer, if you ask him.

Before he knows it, Hanbin is about to start his freshman year in two weeks. 

Much like middle school, Hanbin has to attend a pre-orientation to get to know the school layout and figure out his schedule. However, since he’s still a minor and unable to drive, his mom needs to take him to registration. He walks around the halls of the school, his mom following him closely behind as they finish finalizing all his information for school.

As Hanbin rounds the corner to leave, he sees a figure standing by the other side of the hallway. It only takes Hanbin a second to realize it’s none other than Zhang Hao. His mom stands right beside him, and Hanbin’s mom makes a small noise of acknowledgement before leaving his side, rushing towards the other woman.

“Oh, Hanbin,” Hao says, surprise flashing across his face. One second he’s half way down the hall, and suddenly, he’s standing right next to Hanbin. “It’s good to see you. How’ve you been?”

“Uh,” Hanbin grunts, cleverly. It seems like he’s never going to get used to being within five feet of Hao. “Good. Fine. How are you?”

“Good,” Hao grins. “Kinda surreal that you’re starting high school now though. Are you nervous?”

“A little,” Hanbin admits. “Starting high school full time is a little scary. It feels like it was just yesterday that I entered middle school.”

“Tell me about it,” Hao sighs. “I’m already entering my second year. I’m also old enough to learn how to drive now, which is so crazy to me.”

Hanbin also thinks that’s crazy, but he thinks it’s more the image of Hao behind the wheel driving him crazy instead of the actual idea itself. Not for the first time, Hanbin wishes he could turn off his brain when it comes to Zhang Hao.

“Hey,” Hao says suddenly. “You should help us coach the math team.”

Hanbin blinks twice. “Me?” He points to himself dumbly.

Hao huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, you, Sung Hanbin. Unless you see someone else here that’s good at math and can help coach the team?”

Hanbin only stares at Hao with thinly veiled disbelief. There’s no way Hao is serious, because Hanbin remembers spending half the time at practices staring blankly at the screen and the other half of the time napping. Hao even had to wake him up once (now that had been embarrassing).

Fortunately (or, unfortunately), their mothers have finished talking with each other and have caught up with Hao and Hanbin. Hanbin’s mom must’ve heard Hao’s offer because she immediately jumps at the opportunity.

“Hanbin would love to help out! He’s been wanting to help for a while, right?”

Hanbin’s mom pinches his side, and Hanbin yelps in surprise. “Yeah,” he squeaks. “I’d love to help out.”

Hao smiles, and digs his phone out of his pocket. “Great. Here, put your number in my phone. I’ll text you the details soon.”

As Hanbin types his number into Hao’s phone, he tries to keep his cool and not spontaneously burst into flames. Zhang Hao has his number. He will have Hao’s. 

True to his word, Hao texts Hanbin less than an hour after he gets home. Hanbin tries his best to hide the grin forming on his face as he saves Hao’s number. Giddiness erupts from his heart and flows through his veins, and Hanbin can’t help but think that only good things are coming his way from now on.

- ♡ -

Unknown Number: hey it’s hao! hopefully this is hanbin haha

me: hi hao! yes this is hanbin!!

hao (!!!): awesome :) i just wanted to let u know we’ll probably start coaching sometime during mid-october on mondays. i can give u a ride if you need one

me: sounds good, thank you again! i’ll see you around at school?

hao (!!!): for sure :)

- ♡ -

Starting high school almost makes Hanbin miss middle school.

Actually, that’s not true. Hot take, but Hanbin thinks high school is actually way better than middle school. Maybe it’s because he’d been traveling these halls for the past two years now, so the transition feels a bit smoother than his shift from elementary school to middle school. That doesn’t mean Hanbin still doesn’t feel nervous. Everyone just looks so mature. What if he gets trampled? What if he gets shoved into the lockers like he always sees in the movies?

However, Hanbin quickly learns that high school is nothing like the movies. Most of the juniors and seniors are too tired to do anything more than show up only when it’s absolutely necessary, and nearly all of the sophomores are too preoccupied with trying to impress the upperclassmen to pay attention to the freshmen in the first place.

The good thing about that is his classmates are a lot less rude than they were in middle school. There’s also more people, since there are several middle schools that feed into his high school. Most of them are just faces without names, but then Hanbin meets Jiwoong in his orchestra class, who is in Hao’s grade and went to a different middle school. Jiwoong is nice to talk to, despite his affinity for slightly corny jokes, so he and Hanbin really get along well from the beginning.

He’s also much more busy than he was in middle school. His first AP class feels like it’s nearly trying to kill him with all the work associated with it, and it’s supposedly one of the easiest AP classes to take, ever. Jiwoong tells him about some of the other AP classes, and it makes Hanbin want to cry in frustration, or fear. Or both.

On top of everything, he gets a text from Hao about starting to coach the middle school math team a month into school. Since Hao still has his learner’s permit, Hao’s mom helps transport both of them from the high school back to their old middle school. Hanbin fights the urge to be one of those annoying freshmen that lingers in the hallways of his middle school, like he wasn’t just there a few months prior.

The first meeting kicks off with more people than Hanbin had been anticipating, and it goes as well as he expects. Meaning, he stands awkwardly beside Hao and hands out a few papers while Hao takes most of the actual coaching and explaining. He feels like an Asian man version of Vanna White, pointing at the screen while Hao does the actual important stuff. 

Hao doesn’t seem to mind though, and even sends him grateful smiles like Hanbin’s job is the toughest one to do. 

Hanbin also joins his city’s youth orchestra which, coincidentally, Hao is a part of as well. He’s placed in the back of the violin section, while Hao is placed somewhere near the front, so they don’t interact much except for the occasional glimpses Hanbin steals at the back of Hao’s head. 

He ends his freshman year on a fairly neutral note. None of the math team kids make it past regionals, but Hanbin feels sympathetic towards them. He knows how hard it is, and tries to cheer them up by giving them encouraging statements for next year. He also gets a 4 on his AP exam which isn’t bad, but he’s a little disappointed in himself. He knows he can do better (and he will. He will make sure of it). 

He spends the first two weeks of summer at a summer camp, then takes a trip to the West Coast to visit his childhood friends, Gunwook and Yujin. Gunwook and Yujin had moved away from their hometown shortly after Hanbin himself did, but their parents still kept in close contact even after they all moved away. His parents always talked about visiting each other, but they’d never quite had the time until now.

Seeing Gunwook and Yujin again after nearly six years was a little awkward at first but before long, it was like they never left each other. They laugh and talk until their parents have to come in and tell them to go to sleep. 

Eventually, Gunwook and Yujin do tire out and end up falling asleep some time between 11:00 and 11:15 P.M. Hanbin sighs fondly. They're still so cute, like babies. He quietly lays in their shared bed and scrolls through his phone for another ten minutes before he decides he should probably try and go to sleep too.

He’s shut his eyes for maybe five minutes when his phone suddenly starts going off with text messages. Hanbin rolls over, confused. It should be nearing two in the morning back home, and both Matthew and Jiwoong have the sleep schedules of old men. If Hanbin ever were to be in trouble after ten P.M., his two best friends would not be the people he would go to first. 

He picks up his phone, surprised to see that the texts are all from the group chat he shares with Hao, Ricky, and Gyuvin, A.K.A the math group chat. Ricky and Gyuvin are both in the grade below Hanbin, and had also been roped into helping coach the math team by Hao. Ricky, being Hao’s cousin, really had no choice, and Hanbin has come to realize Gyuvin and Ricky are a package deal—you get one and you get the other, no trade offs or returns. 

The early days of their chat had been extremely eventful, as Gyuvin decided the new group chat was perfect as a meme dumping ground. However, after Hao set a ban on the memes, the group chat eventually only became used for important announcements. Hanbin scrolls through the chat now, not surprised to see that it was Hao that had started the conversation, but the topic of conversation throws him for a loop.

a petting zoo teach math

11:35 p.m.

red panda: i finally downloaded kakao! add me back please

cat: why though?

red panda: what do u mean why? u guys all have it let me join u

cat: what if i block you

dog: ooh i’m adding you back right now!!

cat: noo gyuvin don’t encourage him

dog: too late :P

Hanbin doesn’t reply to the conversation, but he does snicker at the childishness in the chat. Who would have thought the three smartest kids in the school bicker like five year olds?

Hanbin himself ever uses Kakao, only keeps it because his cousin back in Korea only uses Kakao. If she weren’t his favorite, Hanbin would’ve deleted the app ages ago. He opens up the Kakao app now, and messes around with his profile for a while. Suddenly, he gets a Kakao message notification from none other than Hao himself.

hao: this is hao! add me back pls 

me: you've been added :o

hao: heh thanks for adding me back! unlike somebody (ricky)....

me: HAHA no worries!! welcome to kakao :D

He closes out of the app, fully expecting that to be the end of their conversation, but he’s surprised to find another incoming message.

hao: anyway how have u been? how’s ur summer going?

me: pretty good! i’m actually on the west coast right now visiting some friends

hao: oh no way! i was just there two weeks ago lol. how long are u staying there for?

me: just for another week, then i’ll be back home for the rest of the summer

me: how has your summer been?

hao: it’s alright, just a lot of sat prep 

They talk for a while more, and Hanbin finds out a little bit more about Hao. He gets a closer look at some of the mundane things about Hao’s life, and some of the bigger aspirations Hao has. Hanbin learns Hao’s plans after high school are university then medical school, much like Hanbin’s own career plans. He even finds out Hao is also a fan of NCT, and has an appropriate response to this and responds to Hao within a reasonable amount of time. Meaning: he freaks out by himself for five minutes then spam texts Matthew even though the other won’t see it until the next morning.

He and Hao eventually wrap up their conversation a few hours later when Hao decides to call it a night. Hanbin squints at the time, and is surprised to see the clock nearing one in the morning. He places his phone next to him on the nightstand, careful not to wake up Gunwook and Yujin sleeping right next to him. Shuffling around in his bed, he tries to calm his heart full of emotions.

The conversation really removes some of the mysterious allure around Hao. Now, Hao seems less like some unreachable god and more like a regular seventeen year old boy. Unfortunately, this only makes Hanbin fall for Hao even more, knowing now he’s just reaching for the moon, and not the stars.

It takes a while for Hanbin to calm his thumping heart enough to fall asleep. Once he does manage to sleep, he dreams of a boy who stands on the moon and holds Hanbin’s still beating heart in his hands.

- ♡ -

After their late night KaTalk conversation, a subtle shift occurs in his and Hao’s friendship.

First, Hanbin is no longer as nervous to talk to Hao about random things. He approaches Hao during their breaks in their youth orchestra rehearsals and receives a random text about some part of Hao’s day every so often. The notifications only feed the fluttering in his chest, and Hanbin feels like it could carry him up to the stars.

School starts just a couple of weeks later, and Hanbin is excited—it’s a new year and, as a sophomore, he’s no longer at the bottom of the food chain. What’s more, he and Matthew are finally in the same school again, and luck falls in Hanbin’s favor since they have the same lunch hour.

Hanbin takes three AP classes this year, which renders him even busier than the year prior. Maybe it’s just his poor time management skills, because he doesn’t even have time to go to their school’s homecoming dance. Hao seems to be more upset about that than Hanbin himself, judging by the pouty selfie Hanbin had received on Snapchat when he had first told the other.

(On the night of the dance, Hao sends him update texts and Hanbin decides that he has never been more glad he decided not to go. His experience last year was enough of a deterrent by itself, but seeing clips of Hao in the background of his other friends’ videos makes him realize he would’ve rather drowned himself in the questionable beverage bowl than see Hao all dressed up in his suit in person.)

All these thoughts about Hao start to occupy larger and larger spaces in his mind, and it’s getting a little too much for Hanbin to handle by himself. He needs to talk to someone about his feelings before he does something stupid like confess. 

He doesn’t know who to tell. His mom would make it too much of a big deal, and something like this is too mortifying to tell his dad. Matthew…Matthew would be a fine option, but Hanbin knows his best friend would most likely gloat about being right all those years ago.

In the end, Hanbin swallows his pride and decides to tell Matthew his feelings so he can move forward and stop thinking so much. In life, there are things more important than worrying over a crush.

There is no perfect time to tell him. Hanbin tries many times (during orchestra, while they’re hanging out, even once when they’re in the bathroom), but either ends up chickening out at the last minute, or he gets interrupted by something. Eventually, he tells Matthew when they’re sitting in the lunchroom, surrounded by endless, mindless chatter around them. Even then, it takes him a solid five minutes to gather his courage and form the words out loud.

“I like Hao,” Hanbin blurts.

Matthew looks up briefly from his food. “Cool,” he says, and goes back to eating his lunch.

Well. That was anticlimactic. Hanbin blinks. “That’s it?” he laughs in disbelief. “No screaming, no big reaction, no ‘I told you so?’”

Matthew raises his eyebrow and looks up at Hanbin. “Did you want me to create a big reaction? Like—” Matthew clears his throat, and Hanbin has just enough time to lunge across the table before Matthew starts to yell, “OH MY GOD, HANBIN, I CAN’T BELIEVE—”

“Shut up.” Hanbin hisses, and slaps his hand across Matthew’s mouth, apologizing profusely to the people around them. Matthew only smirks and Hanbin doesn’t know if he wants to kill him or kill himself. Probably both. Preferably both. 

Once Hanbin finally calms down and recovers, he turns back to Matthew who is staring at him with a contemplative look in his eyes.

“So,” Matthew starts. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Uh,” Hanbin replies, smartly. “Probably nothing.”

“Really?” Matthew looks at him in disbelief. “You’ve finally admitted you like him and, what, you’re just going to let yourself rot in these feelings even more? Why not just tell him how you feel?”

“Just because I like him doesn’t mean I actually have to do something about it,” Hanbin says, indignant. 

“Why not? He could like you too. You guys could end up dating.”

Hanbin takes a minute to think about that idea. He tries to hide the growing blush crawling up his neck but, unfortunately, he’s always been an open book. Matthew points at his red ears, a little too triumphant for Hanbin’s liking. 

“See? You’ve thought about it. Just tell him, the worst he could do is say no.”

“Or he could laugh at me,” Hanbin says miserably.

Matthew rolls his eyes. “Do you really think Hao would be the type of person to do that? He’s so nice he’d probably feel worse about rejecting you than you would feel after being rejected. Not saying that you would be.” Matthew tacks on that last part quickly, but Hanbin still wilts considerably.

“I’m done for,” Hanbin says, sliding his hands over his face. “This is so embarrassing. Having a crush is so embarrassing.”

“On the bright side,” Matthew chirps, “at least you know he’s interested in Korean men.”

“That’s not even funny,” Hanbin groans, practically slamming his face into the table. “There’s a difference because Jung Jaehyun and I are nowhere near the same level.”

Even though he knows he’s just opened the floodgates to Matthew’s relentless teasing, he’s glad he told his best friend. Even just uttering the words out to someone else has relieved himself from some of the stress. He decides to tell Jiwoong next, who just raises his eyebrows but gives Hanbin his support nonetheless. 

His sophomore year draws to a close and, unfortunately, Hanbin is no less infatuated than he was before. He finds out Hao gets a perfect score on the SAT because of course he does, and Hanbin is once again blown away by just how unreal Hao is.

Summer kick starts with Hanbin being filled with dread. Usually, he’d be at summer camp at this time, but he missed the deadline to apply by a day back in the winter so he’s stuck at home for the time being. His FOMO only worsens when he gets a text from some of his summer camp friends, and they tell him about seeing Hao at their summer camp. This blows Hanbin’s mind away because Hao just didn’t seem like the type of person to spend time attending a summer camp, especially since it’s his senior summer.

After that, he doesn’t hear much from Hao until the annual youth symphony retreat. 

Every year, before the start of the fall semester, the entire youth orchestra takes a few days to unwind, socialize, and practice their pieces for the new semester. They go to the same location every year, which is by a lake about an hour and a half drive away. There’s awful cell reception, and Hanbin has to entrust his beloved Snap streaks to Jiwoong for the duration of the retreat, but they’re kept busy throughout the duration of the two and a half days that the lack of cell reception doesn’t even matter. Plus, the view is absolutely breathtaking: even though Hanbin has been a part of the symphony for the past three years, he’s never disappointed by the sight of the shiny, blue lake that awaits them.

When they get off the bus, he immediately fights his way to the front of the line to get a room with Matthew. They set their bags by their beds and walk back out to the common area to play a few friendly rounds of ping-pong. Hao comes up to their table a while later and challenges Hanbin to a match. Holding up the ball in his hand, Hao confidently states he’ll win because the ping-pong ball has the letter ‘H’ on it. Hanbin laughs so hard he can’t breathe.

Overall, it’s not a bad experience. He’s assistant concertmaster this year, second only to Hao, which is to be expected. He’s acutely aware of Hao’s presence during rehearsal, and he latches onto Matthew during their breaks. Their rehearsals, as they get closer to the final day, start to sound like actual music and not just notes being thrown around in the air. 

The night before their last day, their conductor finally lights up the bonfire pit. Hanbin follows a crowd going down to the pit, and is surprised by the amount of people swarming the fire. Then, he sees a half-demolished bag of graham crackers and chocolates, and it all makes sense. S’mores and sugar are just too alluring to a group of mostly high school kids.  

The crowd of people slowly dwindles down as the supply of chocolate and marshmallows gets depleted. Hanbin decides to stay outside for a while longer. It’s a nice night, and it’s not even cold with the fire going. He sits down on one of the log benches surrounding the fire, closing his eyes and taking in the quiet chatter around him.

He hears some rustling to his right, and Hanbin opens his eyes to see Hao making his way over. He gives Hao a small wave, and the other gives him one of his own before he slides over on the log, practically knee to knee with Hanbin.

“Hey,” he breathes. “How are you?” 

“Good,” Hanbin nods. “How was your summer?”

“It was alright. I met your friends at summer camp,” Hao says.

“Yeah, they told me about that,” Hanbin replies. “Small world, isn’t it?”

“It’s almost like it’s fate,” Hao jokes, and Hanbin forces himself to look into Hao’s deep brown eyes.

They’re close. Really close. From this close, he can see the moles littered across Hao’s face, including the one on his lip. His eyes dart down to the mole again, and when he looks up again he sees that Hao has been watching him too.

Time stands still. Hanbin practically holds his breath, waiting and hoping for Hao’s move. He thinks he sees Hao scoot forward just the tiniest bit more, when his phone suddenly pings with a barrage of texts. Startled, Hanbin practically lurches back and fumbles with his phone to shut it off, but the mood is ruined. Hao has retreated back to the other side of the log and Hanbin silently curses himself for not turning his phone on silent while he reads the texts. They’re all from Matthew, and the other is saying something about falling into the lake and needing a towel.

“Sorry, it’s Matthew. He fell in the lake. I should—uh—probably go help him.”

Hao just nods, waving his hand at Hanbin. “No worries.”

Hanbin bites his lip in frustration as he walks away to get Matthew a towel and walk down to the lake. By the time he returns, the fire is nothing more than a pile of smoldering wood and Hao is already long gone.

The next morning is used just to pack up and go home. They all tidy up the facility they’ve been allowed to use, and help the percussionists load their instruments on the bus. By noon, they’re all packed up and ready to head home.

It’s only when Hanbin gets home that he notices a notification from Snapchat. He opens the app, about to chew out Jiwoong for abandoning his Snap streaks, when he registers the blue message Snap from Hao, unopened, sent one day ago. 

hao: hey is it alright if i sit with u and matthew for breakfast tomorrow? i really don’t know anyone here haha

Hanbin’s heart drops to the floor. He quickly runs through the past 24 hours, and he bites his lip from his effort to try not to scream. He remembers walking right past Hao that morning, right before breakfast. The other man was leaning against one of the chairs in the common area and, looking back on it, it did seem like he was waiting for someone. It never even crossed his mind that Hao might have been waiting for him.

He must’ve thought I was ignoring him, Hanbin thinks in disbelief. One hand gripping his hair in distress, Hanbin quickly sends back a Snap message back, frantically explaining himself. As usual, Hao’s response is almost immediate. It’s so reassuring and calm, and Hanbin almost sobs from embarrassment. He quickly messages Hao back (because he can and does reply to things when he sees them!!) then throws his phone to the side to scream into his pillow. 

He hopes Matthew never finds out about this, otherwise he is never living this down, ever.

- ♡ -

me: holy cow i’m so so so sorry i hadn’t had great cell service and just saw this now (;﹏;)

hao: lol it’s fine, don’t worry about it. see u at practice?

me: again i’m so so sorry TT but yeah see you then!!

- ♡ -

Despite his height and decent physique, Sung Hanbin sucks with physical activity.

To be fair, that’s not all true. He is a pretty good dancer due to the amount of time he spent learning as a kid. Unfortunately, their school’s dance team isn’t exactly diverse or inclusive, and his parents’ badgering to make his need for a school sports activity is persistent. As it is, Hanbin ends up joining the cross country team—another suggestion made by the one and only Zhang Hao.

“It’s easy,” Hao had said to him back in Hanbin’s freshman year. “The team is all really nice, and Coach is super chill as well. I think you’ll like it.”

What Hao failed to notify Hanbin of was just how much running they had to do. A mile? Fine, that was doable. Two miles? Also fine, but even that was pushing it a little.

But five or more? Just thinking about the numbers and how often they run at practice makes Hanbin want to die—that is, if the actual running doesn’t kill him first. Maybe it’s because he’s really, really bad at running, but Hanbin doesn’t understand how someone can run for miles and miles on end with no final destination. What are they running for? Hanbin would like to know too.

It’s the first day of practice for the season. While Coach doesn’t push them to run six miles a day immediately, Hanbin has been out of shape for a while. Even running an “easy” three miles has him panting to catch his breath, cursing Hao for convincing him to join (although, that’s not exactly fair to Hao—Hanbin would’ve done anything for Hao for that smile of his).

Hanbin keeps up to the best of his ability with the rest of the team during their run. He’s still left tagging behind in the back, just barely able to see Hao at the front leading the group.

About thirty minutes later, Hanbin finds himself back at their school, hand pressed up against the wall as he struggles to catch his breath from the run. He’s slowly sliding down the wall, accepting his fate to be one with the ground, when he suddenly finds a water bottle in front of his face. 

“Here,” Hao’s voice comes from above. “You look like you need it.”

Hanbin heaves, but accepts the water bottle handed to him. “Thanks,” he manages to wheeze, and Hao gives him a small smile. It’s absolutely unfair how unruffled Hao looks, even after all the running. A small breeze tousles his hair like Hao is some kind of model in Paris Fashion Week.

“You good?” Hao asks him, eyebrows raised in slight concern.

“Yeah,” Hanbin replies, dazed. “Never been better.”

Hao smiles then walks away, and Hanbin traces his retreating figure with his eyes. With a start, Hanbin realizes something. He’s in love with Zhang Hao. He watches as the other talks and laughs with the other boys on the team, and he knows he’s fucked. Hanbin has been swallowed whole, dunked head-first into the vat of honey. He’s clawing at the surface, struggling to breathe as he feels the honey slowly filling his lungs.

- ♡ -

With every passing year, Hanbin swears the Earth is moving just a bit faster because before Hanbin knows it, Halloween is just around the corner.

Every year on Halloween, their school has a tradition where some of the students go to the surrounding neighborhoods to ask for any canned goods to donate to one of the local food pantries. Hanbin, as one of the officers of the club running the tradition, is required to be there and manages to drag Matthew along with him as well. 

When they arrive, a sizable number of people have already gathered by the front desk, milling around and waiting for their friends. Hanbin and Matthew stand by the doors, and welcome any other students that show up to help out. Taerae, one of Matthew’s friends from his year, joins their little group and then it’s just Hanbin welcoming students while Taerae and Matthew goof off right next to him. Thankfully, Jiwoong joins them soon afterward so Hanbin has someone to keep him sane while he greets student after student.

As soon as the stream of students begins to slow down, the chaperoning teacher quickly calls for their attention to set up the rules. It’s the same every year: set off in groups of five, all five members must have each other’s phone numbers, and everyone must be back at school before 7 P.M. With that, she releases them out and everyone scrambles off to get to the richest neighborhoods first.

Unfortunately, their little group of four is just one person short. Hanbin does a quick scan of the swarm of students around them, and finds that everyone seems to be able to form their own groups quick enough. They’re just about to sneak off and hope their teacher doesn’t rope them in with a random student when they’re approached by none other than Zhang Hao.

“Hey guys,” he smiles, a little sheepish. “I was supposed to come here with Keita and Kuanjui but they dipped. Do you mind if I join you guys?”

“Not at all,” Hanbin manages to say without stuttering. “We needed another person anyway.”

They take off toward the parking lot and decide to take Taerae’s SUV after the boy shows them the large wagon he’s managed to stuff in the trunk. Matthew calls shotgun, practically body slamming Hanbin to get to the passenger seat. He stumbles and is cursing out his friend when he feels someone’s hand at his elbow, steadying him.

“You okay?” Hao asks.

“Yeah,” Hanbin dares to breathe out. “Thanks.”

Zhang Hao just nods and gets into the back seat. Jiwoong sends him a glance full of something and climbs into the car as well. Hanbin’s brain kicks back into gear when he realizes this means he needs to get into the seat as well, and scrambles in just after Jiwoong. 

Taerae drives around several of the neighborhoods near their school in an attempt at finding a good one to raid, only to be disappointed every time at the sight of their classmates already roaming around. It takes a while before they find an area without their classmates and they come around a set of houses Hanbin finds to be extremely familiar.

“Wait,” he says, and Taerae slows the car. “This is my neighborhood. Let’s go here.”

“Oh yeah,” Matthew pipes up. “Hanbin’s neighborhood gives out really good candy.”

“We’re here for canned food,” Jiwoong reminds him. “Not candy.”

“Come on,” Matthew whines. “Who says we can’t get some candy at the same time? Plus, good candy means a higher probability of good canned food, right?”

In the end, not that there were many other options, they decide to stay in Hanbin’s neighborhood. They set off in pairs while Taerae drives around the block, also hopping out to collect some cans himself, before driving back around to pick them up. Throughout the night, Hanbin gets put in several different groupings—him and Matthew, him and Jiwoong, him with Matthew and Taerae—but Hanbin has never paired up with Hao. Every time Taerae stops the car at a street and asks for volunteers, Hanbin is either too slow to grab the chance or he ends up chickening out and stays in the car instead. He thinks he sees Taerae side-eyeing him from the rearview mirror every time, but maybe that was just his brain projecting his own anxious thoughts.

They’re finally nearing the last street of the night, with the clock hitting just shy of 6:30. The sky is getting darker, and there are less children roaming around the streets as well. Taerae makes an excellent side street parking maneuver at the base of the street before he turns around, facing everyone in the car. 

“So, who wants this street?”

Jiwoong shakes his head. “Not me, my feet hurt so bad.” 

Matthew sends Hanbin a look before he makes a large, exaggerated yawn. “I would, but I’m so tired I think I’d fall asleep on the streets.”

“Guess that means it’s up to Hao and Hanbin then,” Taerae says cheerfully. He unlocks the car doors and pats the both of them on the shoulders when he hands them their bags. “I’ll come pick you up in about twenty minutes. Happy canning!” 

Then, he gets back into the car and drives away at a speed Hanbin is sure is too fast for the 25 mile per hour speed limit. His reaction really has Hanbin wondering if Taerae knows about his crush on Hao as well, and he makes a mental note to throttle Matthew the next time he sees him.

Hao stares at the car’s retreating figure, sighs, and points at the first house on the street. “Should we get going then?”

Hanbin nods, and the two of them start making their way down the street. 

Since this was all he had been doing the past few hours, Hanbin has established a system: knock on the door, introduce himself, give a small spiel on donating canned food items, thank the family for their time, then rinse and repeat. He falters a little at Hao’s presence behind him, but Hanbin still manages to deliver his lines smoothly. If he turns up his charm just a smidge more, then it’s no one’s business but his. 

After the first two houses, due to their incredibly limited time, Hao decides it would be easier to split up so they’re able to cover more ground. Thus, Hao makes his way up one side of the street while Hanbin does the other, and they meet up at the base of the last house.

Hanbin scoots around a pumpkin and a fairy, trailing just a few inches behind Hao as they make their way up the driveway to ring the doorbell. An elderly lady answers the door, and her gaze seems to heavily judge them due to their older age and lack of costumes. However, her demeanor changes quickly once they tell her their purpose. She coos at them, and tells them how wonderful they are before disappearing into her house for her canned goods. She comes back out nearly five minutes later, and dumps at least ten cans of something straight into both Hanbin and Hao’s bags. Hanbin is 90% sure they’re expired, but he keeps his smile on and thanks the lady. Hao does the same and they both turn around to make the struggle back down the street.

It’s more quiet now, as there are nearly no more children on the streets. Hanbin blows out a breath, watching as it fogs in front of him. Next to him, he hears Hao’s feet crunching on the thin layer of snow that had accumulated throughout the evening. They’re still silent even as the atmosphere around them becomes increasingly awkward, and Hanbin itches to say something, anything.

“So,” Hanbin eventually breaks the silence. “How have college applications been going?”

“Fine,” Hao replies, shifting his hold on his bag. “I finished writing most of my essays over the summer, I’m just working on editing all those “Why this School?” essays right now. How has your junior year been so far?”

“As good as it can be,” Hanbin shrugs. “School is fine, I’m mostly working on SAT prep right now.”

“Ah,” Hao nods, “I remember I’d always run out of time when I did practice exams, especially the reading portion. My advice to you would be to just practice that portion, timed, over and over again. You get used to the amount of time you have, and you get to practice how to read the passages as well.”

Hanbin smiles, letting out a quiet thanks, and feels the familiar warmth that’s always associated with Hao run through his veins. 

They fall silent again, making their way to the place Taerae had said he’d pick them up. Hao suddenly peers into Hanbin’s bag. “Did you manage to get any candy?”

His mouth falls open as Hanbin shows off his fortune of the night. “Some parents threw these into my bag. Said I deserved it for working so hard this evening. Did you get anything?”

“No,” Hao sticks his bottom lip out and holds up a sad packet of fruit snacks. “I just have these fruit snacks someone threw at me.”

Hanbin laughs and rummages through his small pile for a Snickers. “I can trade you.”

“Are you kidding?” Hao cradles the fruit snacks and shields himself away from Hanbin’s waiting hands. “Keep your Snickers. These things are so good, even better than candy.”

They both laugh, and a comfortable silence envelops them like a blanket.

It’s quiet, and Hanbin sneaks a glance at Hao. This is the first time they’ve been together, alone, all night. They approach the designated meeting spot, and they’re still left with a few more minutes until Taerae is supposed to come back to get them. All in all, this would be the perfect time for him to confess.

Heart pounding sporadically in his chest, Hanbin’s about to plow through and let it out when Hao suddenly drops to the curb and picks up some snow. He packs the snow into lopsided little balls and settles them into a neat little line—like an army, waiting for battle. Any possible chance of confessing dissipates into the air, along with the quiet breath of relief Hanbin lets out.

“What are you doing?” Hanbin peers over Hao’s shoulders curiously.

“Taerae is taking such a long time,” the elder grumbles, and continues to pack more snow into baseball-sized spheres. “We’re literally freezing our asses out here. It’s time for a little payback.”

Later, when Taerae scolds Hao for pelting snow at his car and “defiling his precious baby,” all Hanbin can remember for the rest of the night was how brightly Hao seemed to glow under the light of the moon. 

- ♡ -

Hanbin is going to confess to Hao. 

After he got home from the Halloween canning event, Hanbin realized how he couldn't hide his feelings for Hao any longer. He laid in bed thinking about it for the rest of the night, and finally came to the conclusion that he can’t wait anymore. 

The next day, he decides he’s going to shoot Hao a text during his lunch hour to meet him by the door right before they go to the middle school to coach the math team. Ricky and Gyuvin usually get there a good five minutes after him and Hao, which gives him plenty of time to find his courage and convey his feelings. Additionally, if things go sour, Hanbin can use the two as a buffer, but hopefully things won’t reach that point. 

Throughout the entire day, anticipation builds through his entire body, and Hanbin counts down the seconds until the clock hits noon. After what feels like a lifetime, the bell signaling the end of class finally rings and Hanbin practically runs out of his seat to make his way towards the lunchroom. As he passes through the science hallway, a crowd gathered by the bathroom catches his eyes briefly before he continues his descent toward the cafeteria. He overhears whispers about a possible drug trafficking operation, and Hanbin huffs out a breath in resignation. Classic high school activities.

By the time he gets to the cafeteria, Matthew is already at their unofficial table, which Hanbin is all too thankful for. He needs some courage from his best friend while he drafts and redrafts his message to Hao. As Hanbin gets closer to the table, Matthew’s gaze follows him slightly cautiously as he takes his seat.

“Hey,” Matthew says, slightly wary. “Have you heard?”

Hanbin chuckles. Matthew must be referring to what was going on in the science hallway. Hanbin doesn’t think it’s too much of a surprise considering this is high school, but Matthew has always been more prone to shock than him. 

“Yeah, it’s kinda crazy. Classic high school behavior though.”

Matthew breathes a sigh of relief. “Yeah. That’s good, I was worried you’d be more shaken about the news. It is kind of crazy though. Who would have known that Kuanjui and Hao would end up dating?”

The words reverberate through Hanbin’s skull, bouncing around his head before finally settling on the inner surface of his brain like a layer of sediment. He chokes on a sip of his drink, and Matthew frantically slaps Hanbin’s back to dislodge his windpipe.

“Hao’s dating?” Hanbin rasps out. “When did this happen?”

“Is that not what you were talking about when you arrived?”

Hanbin shakes his head, and Matthew winces. He pulls his phone, face looking more and more pinched as he scrolls through his messages. 

“So, last night. Keita held a party at his house and Hao went right after we finished with the Halloween canning event. I saw from Xiaoting’s Snapchat story that they got together shortly before the party ended.”

“Oh,” Hanbin says, throat feeling a little tight. “Good for him–I mean them. Good for both of them.”

Matthew looks at Hanbin, slightly alarmed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” Hanbin says, then abruptly pushes his chair back to stand up. “I’ll be back, I just—bathroom.”

Faintly, Hanbin hears Matthew calling out his name as he makes a mad dash to the bathroom. He walks straight to the only single stalled bathroom in the school. Thankfully, it’s empty and Hanbin quickly walks in and locks the door behind him. 

Sliding to the ground, Hanbin presses his hands to his eyes and bites his lips hard in an attempt to hold back his tears. He feels stupid, sitting on the bathroom floor and crying over a boy like a protagonist in one of those corny coming-of-age movies, but he thinks he deserves to wallow for a bit on the grimy bathroom floor.

He’s so stupid. Hanbin knew Hao was in a league far out of his reach to begin with, yet he let a few weeks of friendly conversation delude himself. And to think he had been planning on confessing to Hao too. 

Stupid, stupid, Hanbin berates himself. He’s just so embarrassed, and upset, and maybe even a little angry—at himself, at Hao, at Kuanjui, even though he knows it's completely irrational. 

He’s not sure when he can face Hao again, so he decides to allow himself to heal the only way he knows how: by avoiding Hao until he can stand to be in the same space as the other again. Maybe it’s childish, but Hanbin has always worn his heart on his sleeve. His stupid heart, beating for a boy who will never like him back, and is bleeding on the floor of the bathroom where Hanbin is wiping his tears.

- ♡ -

me: hey i’m gonna have to miss math team today sorry 

hao: ur leaving me? with the babies? wow ok i see how it is </3

hao: nah i’m kidding it’s totally fine. where r u going?

me: LOL

me: also, doctor’s appointment. sorry i forgot about it until now :(

hao: ah it’s alright. see u tomorrow then

me: hehe thanks see you 

- ♡ -

me: i won’t be at math team today

hao: ok thanks for telling me. see u tomorrow 

- ♡ -

me: i’m not at math team today

hao: ok

- ♡ -

me: i’m missing math team today

Read 1:15 PM

- ♡ -

Almost like the weather is aware of the sudden coldness in his heart, winter arrives soon after with the first heavy snowfall of the year. It’s been nearly three weeks since Hao started dating Kuanjui, and Hanbin is still doing his best to avoid Hao.

They’re both stuck in this terrible game of cat and mouse where Hanbin is both the cat and the mouse at the same time. At first, when Hanbin first started skipping out on coaching the math team, Hao would send out texts to make sure he’s doing alright. Hanbin would respond, but he would always keep his responses as short as he can without sounding rude. 

Then, he starts skipping out on the math team almost every other week. On the days he does go to help at the middle school, Hanbin gets his dad to drive him instead just so he doesn’t have to be in the same space as Hao for longer than he has to. He arrives just before the club starts, and leaves right as everyone is dismissed. After that, Hao's messages become more and more scarce, to the point where he no longer responds to Hanbin anymore.

It’s draining on both him and almost everyone around him. Matthew tells him he’s being unreasonable, and Hanbin thinks Matthew needs to mind his own business more. 

However, rationally, Hanbin knows Matthew is right. It wasn’t like Hao was his to begin with, and Hanbin has always known Hao is way out of his reach. Just because he got to know Hao a little more this past year doesn’t change that. Hanbin knows this all yet, like a fool, he kept trying to get too close.

They get released for winter break shortly after, and Hanbin relishes in the time away from school. It works wonders for Hanbin’s healing heart, and he realizes just how childish he’s being. It’s not Hao’s fault for dating who he wants, and he shouldn’t have to deal with Hanbin’s bouts of pettiness.

On New Year’s Eve, Hanbin watches the ball drop on TV and decides he needs to leave his childish thoughts behind. At midnight, Hanbin makes a wish to let go of his feelings for Hao for a clean, fresh start for the new year. It’ll take a while, and it’s definitely easier said than done, but every plan starts somewhere. Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.

After that, slowly, he brings himself to stop being so avoidant He starts showing up to the math team again, and attempts to make small talk with Hao during youth symphony rehearsals. He even takes the plunge to ask Hao for a ride to the middle school again.

The ride over was hella awkward, but Hanbin likes to think he’d managed to convince him that nothing was wrong. Hao definitely wasn’t convinced, but he’s smart enough not to ask, so now they’re back to the weird, superficial friendship they had before Hanbin’s sophomore year.

However, Hanbin doesn’t have much time to think about it. His packed schedule provides enough of a distraction. On top of all his schoolwork, Hanbin had decided to subject himself to many extracurriculars, including several academic competitions. Unfortunately, much of that packed schedule is full of activities shared with Hao—from occasionally coaching math team to symphony rehearsal, even his academic competitions.

This year is especially hectic because the Academic Decathlon team advances to the state competition. It was entirely unexpected, especially considering they were missing two people, but they managed to place second in regionals, winning them an automatic place to state.

The state competition is held in a city about a two and a half hour drive away, in a large hotel resort. The hotel provides both their lodging accommodations and the event space for their competition. Hanbin doesn’t believe the hotel is able to hold everything until they arrive and he’s staring right at the massive, sprawling building that will be his home for the next two days.

They get off the bus, and Hanbin clutches his bags close to his chest. Jiwoong stands next to him, chattering non-stop as he takes in the sight before him. 

They enter the hotel and sit by the fireplace to wait for their teachers to check them in. While they’re waiting, Hao folds several pieces of paper to create a lot system to draw for rooming arrangements. There’s three rooms total for two sets of pairs and one group of three, and Hanbin desperately prays to any deity out there that he doesn’t get paired with Hao.

When Hao comes around with the pile of papers, Hanbin closes his eyes and pulls out a “2.” Luckily, it’s not the same number as Hao as the other pulls a “1,” but he’s also not sharing a room with Jiwoong, who had pulled out a “3.” Looking around the group of people, Hanbin finally finds that he pulled the same number as Keita, a boy in Hao’s grade. 

“Hey,” Keita grins at him. “Looks like we’re roommates.”

“Cool,” Hanbin says, just relieved that he’s not rooming with Hao. 

However, as it turns out, he might as well be rooming with the other because Hao occupies their room several times over the course of the next few hours. He talks to Keita, mostly, and Hanbin provides small, courteous smiles and tries not to do anything that could ruin their re-established shaky friendship. 

Hao stays until he’s kicked out when Keita starts to yawn loudly. Before he leaves, Hao reminds them of their agenda for tomorrow and Hanbin has to fight back a smile as he watches Hao quietly leave their room. The other really is like the team parent.

The next day marks the beginning of the competition. They have their exams in literature, math, and art first, then split for a lunch break before coming back to do the music and science portions.

It’s tough. State level competitions really were on a different level than regionals, and Hanbin stares at the music test, despairingly. He really should be better at this section than he is. He’s played the violin for nearly seven years now, for crying out loud! Hanbin tries his best, he really does, but ends up giving up and uses his time to fold the anti-peeking sticky note into a paper crane. 

(When the proctors come around to collect their exams, Hanbin turns around to show Hao his tiny crane. Hao laughs, and Hanbin’s traitorous heart swells.)

They’re released from their exam portion with about four hours until their next scheduled event—the interview section. Hanbin hides out in Jiwoong’s room during their downtime, and orders pizza with Jiwoong and his roommates. They do some reviewing, and run through possible interview questions before Hao knocks on the door and they all head out.

The interviews are all conducted all at the same time, just at different tables. It’s a little hard to hear over the bustling noise of everyone else around him, but he manages to pull a genuine laugh out of his interviewer several times, so Hanbin thinks he’s got it in the bag. 

When he finishes, he meets up with everyone else just outside of the interview room. They all look about as tired as he feels, and Hanbin is more than ready to fall asleep right then and there.

“I’m beat,” Jiwoong declares, and the rest of the team all nod, agreeing. 

“I saw an ice cream shop somewhere earlier,” Hao says. “Maybe we can go and get some as a celebration?”

Most of the group cheer, but Keita wrinkles his nose in disagreement. “The ice cream there isn’t good though, I remember that from freshman year. There’s this frozen yogurt place instead and it’s so much better. Let’s go there instead.”

“That place? But it’s so far,” Hao whines. 

“You don’t have to come,” Keita points out. “I just need someone else to come with me. Hanbin would, right?”

“Uh,” Hanbin stammers, not expecting to be called out specifically. His gaze flits back and forth from Keita to Hao, catching on Keita’s wide, pleading eyes. “Right. I like frozen yogurt better anyway.”

In the end, Keita and Hanbin split from the rest of the group to get frozen yogurt while the others get “sub-par ice cream” (Keita’s words, not his).

The walk there is long. So long. Hanbin spontaneously starts up a few conversations with Keita while they trudge through the hallways to find the frozen yogurt bar Keita supposedly saw three years ago. At least, during what feels like a mile-long walk, Hanbin enjoys Keita’s company and almost forgets that his legs feel like they’re about to fall off. Keita is less intimidating than Hanbin had originally thought him to be, and they actually get along quite well.

Just as Hanbin is about to reach his last straw, he and Keita finally make it to the frozen yogurt bar. It’s decorated much differently compared to the rest of the hotel, with pristine white walls and a tile flooring. The frozen yogurt bar is attached to a smaller candy shop, and Hanbin sees several tired parents attempt to corral their way too excited kids away. Other than that, however, the area is quite quiet, which probably has to do with the maze-like route needed to get there.

There isn’t a wide variety of flavors, but Hanbin does see an interesting flavor he’d like to try out. It comes out a peculiar shade of pink, and Hanbin hopes the color is the only thing strange about it. Keita sticks with a classic chocolate flavor and goes to pay up front with the bored part-timer. Keita offers to pay for both him and Hanbin, but Hanbin manages to swoop in and pay before he can.

Taking their frozen yogurts, they settle into one of the tables tucked away in the corner of the shop. Luckily, the flavor isn’t awful, leaving Hanbin quite satisfied with his choice.

“So,” Keita smiles innocently, “have anyone you’re interested in?”

Hanbin chokes on his bite of frozen yogurt, and he tries to mask it with a cough while Keita just blinks owlishly.

“Ah, no.” Hanbin says, after recollecting himself. The following silence is starting to unnerve him, so he just shovels more froyo into his mouth and desperately tries to avoid Keita’s gaze.

Here’s the thing: Hanbin and Keita are not close. In fact, Hanbin only really knows Keita because he’s Hao’s friend. They’ve shared a few classes, but haven’t spoken enough times for them to feel comfortable around each other. Keita is nice enough, but something about him also intimidates Hanbin. Maybe it’s his eyes—it feels like they don’t miss anything, despite his laid back personality.

Case in point: the conversation they’re having right now.

“It’s a shame,” Keita sighs. “I don’t blame you though. Almost no one in this town has any real potential.”

Hanbin hums nervously, and prays that it is the end of this particular conversation. Unfortunately, he’s never been that lucky, and this fact is only reinforced when Keita asks, “So does that mean you haven’t had a first kiss yet?”

“Ah, no.” Hanbin says, trying his best to keep his face in check. “I’ve just been too busy,” he tacks on, lamely.

“The hustle life, I respect it.” Keita nods, sagely. “It’s okay, I don’t think I had my first kiss at your age yet.”

“But,” Keita’s gaze suddenly feels a thousand times sharper, and Hanbin fights the urge to shrink in his seat. “I did give someone else their first kiss. Would you like to guess?”

Hanbin doesn’t know what he has to do with someone else’s first kiss and why Keita seems so adamant on telling him, but he has a feeling that Keita won’t let it go so easily. Hanbin nervously shakes his head in lieu of a response. Keita huffs a little, clearly unsatisfied at his lack of participation. “You’re no fun. Fine, I’ll just tell you. It was Hao.” 

This time, Hanbin can’t cover up his surprise, and Keita smirks a little at Hanbin’s piqued interest. 

“I think Kuanjui knows,” Keita says wistfully. Hanbin can’t help but raise an eyebrow at Keita’s flippant attitude, to which he shakes his head. “This was before they got together. I’m not a homewrecker,” Keita snorts.

There is so much information he’s just been presented with, and Hanbin’s head spins as he tries to make sense of it all. What was he supposed to do with this information? Why was he given all this information?

“Anyway,” Keita suddenly turns his attention back onto Hanbin. It happens so fast it gives Hanbin whiplash. “Back to the topic at hand. You’ve really never liked anyone? That’s alright, of course, nothing wrong with that, but you’ve really never thought of dating anyone? Hao’s very cute, isn’t he?”

Keita has to be doing this on purpose now, Hanbin swears by the glint in his eyes. However, Keita is awfully good at playing dumb and Hanbin refuses to do anything to give himself away, so he hesitantly replies with a small, “Sure.”

Luckily, Keita doesn’t get to interrogate him along those lines any further because their teachers stumble across the little froyo bar. Almost desperately, Hanbin invites them over to sit with him and Keita, and that ends the previous conversation there. Luckily, Keita doesn’t try to rekindle the conversation later that night when they retire to their room either, and Hanbin has to breathe a sigh of relief.

The next day marks the final day of their competition. The team competes in three more written rounds before the entire team heads out to grab a congratulatory lunch.

Their teachers round them up by the entrance and take them to a diner only a two minute walk away from their hotel. Both Keita and Hao, the seasoned veterans of the team, perk up instantly once they catch sight of the restaurant coming into view. 

“Their fries are to die for,” Hao praises. “I could eat the fries for the rest of my life and be happy.”

The restaurant is surprisingly empty for a lunch time meal, and the entire team plus their teachers are able to find a large table for all of them with no issue. Hanbin sits near the left end of the table and Hao sits near the right end, but the table is so narrow that it’s almost like they’re right next to each other. He chooses not to think too much about it, in case his delirious brain conjures up any more unwanted thoughts, and focuses all his attention on the menu in front of him instead. Hanbin ends up ordering a gourmet sandwich plus a basket of fries at Hao’s suggestion. 

He’s right, of course. The fries are absolutely amazing. They’re seasoned with salt and something else that gives them a slight sour kick that Hanbin loves. 

His sandwich is delicious as well. Hanbin hadn’t realized he was starving, but perhaps that was just the effect of the food because once he takes one bite, his mouth never stops chewing. In addition, the serving sizes are huge—so huge, in fact, that Hanbin is left with half a basket of fries at the end of the lunch. 

He’s unable to shovel down any more food and is wondering if he’s able to take the food to go when he notices a hand slowly creeping toward his leftover fries. Hanbin’s eyes flicker from the basket to the culprit and he sees Hao freeze slightly at being caught before he continues his guilty attempt. Hanbin playfully rolls his eyes, sliding the nearly empty basket over and ignores both the heat climbing up his neck and Jiwoong’s pointed glances.

They return to the hotel shortly afterward to see which teams made it into the finals. Unfortunately, their team doesn’t make it, which is sad, but it does allow them to pack up and go home right away. Hanbin is more than happy to go home to his soft bed after sleeping in rough hotel sheets for the past two days, so he doesn’t have much to complain about as he loads his stuff onto the bus.

As soon as they get dropped off at school, it’s like a switch has been flipped. Within the walls of the bus, whatever lingering magic from the AcDec competition bounces around, and Hao and Hanbin are able to joke and laugh with each other. However, as soon as they step foot outside, they’re back to being Zhang Hao, the star child, and Sung Hanbin, the hopeless boy who is forever in Hao’s orbit.

The school year drags on, and soon enough, it’s college decision day for the seniors. Jiwoong gets accepted and commits to their state’s flagship school, and Hanbin couldn’t be more proud.

He’s extremely curious about where Hao ended up accepting, but he hasn’t heard anything from the other. His social media is suspiciously quiet as well, so Hanbin is stuck in his state of curiosity.

He ends up finding out a few days later, when he gets home from school. His mom is in the kitchen, chopping over some vegetables for some banchan. Hanbin greets her, and asks if he can help with anything but his mother just waves him off and tells him to focus on his studies.

“Oh!” his mother suddenly exclaims. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Hao’s mom just told me he was admitted into that medical school combined program! I knew he could do it, he’s a smart boy.”

Hanbin had not heard, as he hadn’t really spoken to Hao ever since coming back from their Academic Decathlon competition.

“Oh.” Hanbin croaks. “That’s great. Congratulations to him.”

His mom continues cutting up vegetables on the counter, enthusiastically waving her knife around. “You should send him a message to congratulate him. I heard you guys haven’t been talking much lately, but this is something that should be celebrated.”

“Yeah,” Hanbin says, mouth a little dry. “I’ll let him know.”

He then turns around and heads straight to his room, contemplating whether or not he’ll actually send that message to Hao.

It’s not that he isn’t happy for Hao. Hanbin knows how hard the other has worked, and he knows what an accomplishment it is to be accepted to a combined program. Getting into those programs was crazy hard: on top of writing applications to the undergraduate school, students have to write secondary applications for the program itself and, if chosen, prepare for an interview with the corresponding medical schools. Acceptance rates to these programs are low, and are similar to the acceptance rates of the Ivys. 

However, if anyone could get into a program like that, it would be Hao. Hanbin had no doubt in his mind that he could do it. 

Really, Hanbin’s hesitance to reach out is more so rooted in the strange tension that seems to surround their every interaction. Although it felt like they got closer during the Academic Decathlon competition, it was really just a little oasis of time. Whatever happened during the three days of competition didn’t exist in the real world. As soon as they got back from the competition, Hao went back to being the untouchable star child, and Hanbin was back to yearning from afar.

In the end, Hanbin decides to put his weird internal turmoil aside and send Hao a congratulatory text. He tries to not overthink the text, but still ends up drafting then re-drafting the message for around ten minutes before finally sending a very short and simple text. As per usual, Hao replies to him within the hour.

me: hey!! i heard that you got accepted to the med school combined program! congrats!!

hao: oh haha thank you! it was honestly kind of surprising, considering i was so sure i botched the interview lol

me: you? botch the interview? i’m pretty sure that’s impossible to do

hao: hahaha thanks hanbin :)

There’s no further response after that and, really, there shouldn’t need to be anything more. He congratulated Hao and Hao had responded, and that should be the end of the story. However, this was the first time Hao had reached out to him for the first time in ages. Leaving the conversation the way it is feels like a wasted opportunity. At least he could send a message asking about Hao’s general well-being, right?

Hanbin bites his lip. There is no harm in asking. They are friends. Hanbin repeats that mantra over and over in his head as he takes the plunge, sends the message, then throws his phone across his room. There’s no point in anxiously waiting around, so Hanbin forces himself to complete his schoolwork and most definitely does not glance at his phone every so often.

But, as minutes turn into hours, Hanbin still doesn’t receive a response from Hao. The sky outside turns dark and the cicadas outside his window start singing their sonatas, yet Hao still has yet to reply to Hanbin. He sighs, scrolling through his phone notifications one last time before shutting it off for a restless night of sleep. 

- ♡ -

me: so how have you been doing recently?

Read 4:35 PM

- ♡ -

Hanbin doesn’t hear from Hao for a long time after that. It’s embarrassing at first, and he whines to Matthew and Jiwoong for a while before they get sick of him and he decides to let it go. After all, life goes on. Matthew and Jiwoong each breathe a sigh of relief.

With the end of the year comes exams that barrel into his life with the force of a typhoon, leaving destruction and exhaustion in its wake. Hanbin probably sleeps a total of ten hours the entire week leading up to his exams. As soon as he finishes his last exam, he drives himself home and passes out for almost an entire day afterward.

The following weekend brings their high school’s graduation ceremony. Hanbin drags himself out of bed to attend, just for Jiwoong and not anyone else. At least, that’s what he tells himself. However, when the speeches run a little too long, he finds his gaze drifting a little too close to a certain boy seated at the tail end of the crowd. 

The ceremony ends after an arduous three hours, and the newly minted high school graduates are ushered out of the venue. Hanbin’s height serves him well as he immediately finds Jiwoong in the crowd, and tries not to cry as he poses for pictures. 

“It’s not like I’m leaving right now, you idiot. We still have the entire summer to hang out,” Jiwoong laughs, but he’s also tearing up so Hanbin decides to ignore his tough guy act for tonight.

He doesn’t see Hao once. Hanbin tries to convince himself it’s alright, and attempts to ignore the way his heart sinks in his chest from the heaviness of his disappointment.

Summer officially starts a few days later, and Hanbin finds himself with much more free time than he’s ever known. Previously, Hanbin’s summers were filled with either spending time at summer camp or cramming for some test or another. 

This summer, he picks up a part-time job at their local boba shop but mostly uses his time to mentally prepare himself for his senior year. He and Matthew crash at Jiwoong’s house multiple times, and Hanbin complains to both of them about college applications. Jiwoong sends him an understanding look of pain, and Matthew just laughs at his misery for now. 

Summer passes by in this manner and before Hanbin knows it, August has arrived. The panic is starting to set in now that school is starting up again in less than a month, so Hanbin doubles down on his attempts at college essay writing. He idly wonders how the hell Hao had managed to finish his essays before school even started, but perhaps that was just another one of the many mysteries of the world. 

Then, one day, when Hanbin wakes up from a midday nap, he turns on his phone to find most of his normal notifications—several TikToks from Matthew, a notification from Duolingo asking him to practice his Korean—but has to do a double take when he sees a text from Hao sent two hours ago.

hao: hey hanbin i was cleaning my stuff out and found all my old prep books. i was wondering if u wanted any?

Hanbin blinks, rubs at his eyes, then stares at his phone again. There’s no way he’s seeing this correctly. Yet, even when Hanbin restarts his entire phone, Hao’s text is still there and waiting for an answer. 

me: that would be great! what do you have?

hao: a lot lmao

hao: [image attached]

hao: please take as many as u want, we both know i won’t be needing them anymore lol

Hanbin takes a screenshot of the photo and thanks Hao again for the offer. He tries not to think too much of it—after all, Zhang Hao is just a nice guy. He would have offered these books to anyone, not just Hanbin.

But, a small part of his mind sings, he didn’t offer them to anyone else. Just Hanbin. Hanbin tries to block that seed of thought from developing any further, but it grows like a weed in his head. It twists and turns, and invades every corner of his mind. Blushing, he throws his phone across his bed, and tucks his head into his pillows to scream.

- ♡ -

In the eight years Hanbin has known Hao, he’s never been to the other’s house. He's never had a reason to, with everything they’ve needed to do being either at school, the symphony, or math team. In fact, the only time Hao’s been at Hanbin’s house was to drop him off after coaching the math team.

Hao has always been mysterious and a bit elusive to Hanbin. Despite knowing each other for nearly a decade, Hanbin doesn’t think he knows much about Hao. He blinks, the realization just hitting him square in the face. Sure he knows about Hao’s career aspirations, the collection of Hao’s achievements, even who Hao’s first kiss was, yet he’s not quite sure he knows what the other’s favorite color is. Looking back, their relationship has never been more than “friends at school” (or—worse—“tutor and tutee”) yet, like a fool, Hanbin found himself falling for Hao.

Hanbin pulls up to a pretty, two-story brick house. The sides of the house are slightly overrun with ivy, and a beautiful white balcony overlooks the front of the house. Hanbin recognizes Hao’s car sitting in the driveway, and he pulls up to park against the curb. Collecting himself in the car, he grabs the gift his mother made him bring before stepping out onto the street.

The sky is overcast with clouds, and Hanbin has a fleeting thought that he should hurry before he’s caught in a storm. 

Walking up the driveway to Hao’s house has to be one of the most nerve-wracking things Hanbin has ever done. He hasn’t spoken to the other boy in person in months, and memories of their last stilted text conversation is still fresh in his mind.

Maybe he’s just overthinking everything. After all, Hao had been the one to reach out to him. At the very least, Hao tolerates his presence, which is more than Hanbin could hope for. Recently, it seems like every interaction between them has ended in immense embarrassment, and Hanbin can only cringe as he thinks about it.

He shakes his head as he finds himself in front of Hao’s door, and takes a few deep breaths before ringing the doorbell. Hanbin waits for a minute before ringing the doorbell again. Another thirty seconds pass and nothing happens. Hanbin starts to panic. What if he arrived at the wrong house? Hao’s car is very generic; lots of other people could own the same car. What if Hao gave him the wrong address? He wouldn’t do that, would he?

Hanbin’s mind continues to whir into overdrive when the door suddenly opens, catching him off-guard like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hey, Hanbin,” Hao says. He’s in a simple T-shirt and jeans, and a pair of glasses is perched on his nose. He moves aside to let Hanbin in. “Sorry, I was cleaning and wasn’t paying attention. It’s nice to see you, come in.”

It’s awkward, but Hanbin shuffles his way inside. 

“I’ll go get the books. Be right back.” Hao says, then walks away toward another section of his house. In Hao’s absence, Hanbin tries to stay very still and not snoop around. The room that Hanbin had been left in is very clean, with soft white carpeting and equally as white walls. There’s a baby grand piano to his right, along with Hao’s music stand and violin, and a bookshelf littered with pictures of Hao as a kid to his left. From where he stands, he can hear a faint sound of a television playing and someone rustling around in the kitchen. 

Hao returns a few moments later, a huge stack of assorted prep books in his arms. He drops them unceremoniously onto the ground and gestures for Hanbin to come closer.

“Oh—here,” Hanbin practically thrusts the neatly wrapped package into Hao’s bewildered hands. “This is for you, as a thank you.”

Hao’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, “It’s really all right, you really didn’t have to.”

Hanbin’s face burns with the energy of a thousand suns. “I wanted to,” he whispers and gives Hao a small smile that feels more like a grimace.

Hanbin swallows his nerves and decides to start a conversation while sifting through Hao’s extensive prep book collection. “So,” he fakes nonchalance, “when are you leaving?”

Hao hums, “Classes start in about two weeks, so I’ll actually be moving in this coming Monday.”

“Are you excited?”

“I guess,” Hao shrugs. “It’ll definitely be a change from this old town, but I think I’ll miss a lot of things about this place.”

Hanbin nods. He gets it; although he hasn’t been in the area as long as Hao, living here for the past eight years has really grown on him. He’s already tearing up thinking about how he’s going to have to leave it behind next year.

“How are your college applications going?” Hao asks back.

Hanbin winces, “They’re...going. I definitely have words on a document.”

Hao laughs, and Hanbin feels a smile climb up his own face.

They fall into a comfortable silence, and Hanbin does his best to quickly wrap up his free shopping spree among Hao’s prep books. He manages to gain quite a few books he had been needing, and almost struggles to bring them all back to Hao’s front door. Hao helps him carry some of his books as well, and waits patiently while Hanbin finishes lacing up his shoes.

When he stands up, he graciously accepts the books Hao had been holding for him. Suddenly, Hanbin is hit with the realization this may be the last time he ever sees Hao. After the past eight years of knowing each other—after the past eight years of Hanbin liking Hao—everything might come to an end on this random summer afternoon, and Hanbin finds himself feeling quite uneasy with this epiphany.

“I—” Hanbin clears his throat, and Hao peers at him through his glasses with curious eyes. Hanbin gets hit with a small wave of nausea before he decides to hell with it. He’s kept it a secret for so long, Hanbin is almost certain he will burst if he stays quiet about it for any longer. 

“I like you.” Hanbin blurts out. “A lot. And, honestly, I probably have since middle school. I know that this is a really unfortunate time to be telling you, but I just wanted to let you know. Before you—you know—leave.”

It’s silent, and Hanbin curses himself out. God, why did he just say all that? That was way more than he had wanted Hao to know. Hanbin blames his big mouth and his inability to shut up. He cautiously raises his attention to Hao, whose mouth is widened in slight surprise. 

“Hanbin…” Hao licks his lips and presses them together in a thin line. Hanbin shuts his eyes, raising his shoulder slightly to brace himself for the inevitable rejection. “Hanbin, I liked you too.”

At this, everything in Hanbin’s head screeches to a halt, then tumbles over each other all at once. Hao had feelings for him? Him ? Sung Hanbin? Since when? And what did he mean by “liked,” past tense? Was that intentional?

“You did?” He ends up squeaking out instead. Not one of his finest moments, but the questions in Hanbin’s head are swirling around so rampantly he can’t bring himself to care.

Hao runs his fingers through his hair and laughs, humorlessly, “Yeah, and I thought I was obvious about it too. I even straight-up asked you if you were dating anyone or if you had plans to date anyone soon, remember?”

Hanbin does remember. It had been after the state Academic Decathlon competition, on the bus ride home. They’d just stopped at a gas station, their teachers probably too exhausted to deal with providing actual food, and let the entire team go nuts by buying whatever they wanted for sustenance. Hanbin had been happily munching on some chips and sipping a fruit smoothie when Hao had asked him with a playful tone, but serious eyes. Hanbin, tired from the past hectic week, had answered honestly, but didn’t put much time into thinking about the possible implications.

“I thought you were just trying to make conversation.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around himself in embarrassment. “Plus, I thought you and Kuanjui were still together?”

Hao snorts, but it’s more fond than anything. “Kuanjui and I broke up in February. Don’t apologize,” he holds his hand up when Hanbin opens his mouth to do just that. “It was a mutual decision when we found we were better off as friends.”

As disoriented as Hanbin is feeling about the whole situation, he’s glad to hear that neither Hao or Kuanjui were hurt by the breakup. He’s only met Chen Kuanjui a handful of times, but the other boy has been nothing but nice and radiant. It’s really no wonder Hao had liked him and dated him, albeit only briefly.

It’s quiet, and the air around them is awkward. What do you say to someone you just confessed your feelings to? Hanbin wouldn’t know—Hao is the only person he’s ever liked, and both of them are standing in silence almost too suffocating to think.

“I actually thought you hated me for a while,” Hao suddenly admits. 

Hanbin gapes. “What?” He splutters.

Hao shrugs, cheeks red as he hides his face. “You never really spoke to me, but you were super talkative to other people. You’d always kinda run away from me whenever we did have conversations, so I just kind of assumed you didn’t like me.”

Hanbin laughs, his voice shaky and palms sweaty. “I was nervous. You make me nervous.” 

Hao smiles, small and unsure. “Well, I know that now.”

“When you said ‘liked’...” Hanbin trails off, embarrassed, hoping Hao knew what he was trying to say.

Hao purses his lips and lets out a deep sigh. 

“I...I don’t want to date.” Hao eventually says. He runs his fingers through his hair, messing up his already messy hair. 

“It’s just…” he sighs, “It’s strange, you know? We’ve known each other for so long, and not once did I ever think we’d be in this situation. Plus, you’ve probably noticed that the situation we’ve gotten into isn’t healthy. We keep pushing and pulling, and neither of us are happy.”

Hao deflates, shoulders slumping and looking smaller than he’s ever been. “It really is awful timing, especially since I’m not sure if we’ll be attending the same school from now on. And, don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I don’t believe in long-distance, but I think...” Hao pauses here, struggling to find the right words to say. “I think we should just be as we are now.”

Hearing these words, Hanbin expects more of a reaction from himself. He expects to feel like his heart has been ripped out of his chest, with Hao as the culprit. However, all he feels is a slight ache, like this was something he had known already and all Hao’s words did was supply a reminder. Perhaps, deep down in his soul, Hanbin knew this would happen and had been bracing himself for the impact all along.

“I see,” Hanbin says, then immediately cringes. “I mean, I understand.”

The corners of Zhang Hao’s mouth tilt down, and Hanbin hates that he’s the cause of it. “I’m really sorry, Hanbin.”

“Don’t apologize,” Hanbin shakes his head. “You haven’t done anything wrong, we were just doing the best we could with what we had. Thank you, for everything. I’m really glad it was you.”

Hao nods, a small and slow motion. There’s not much else said as he reaches around Hanbin to unlock the door and let him through. As Hanbin steps outside, he turns around once again when he hears his name. 

“Send me a text if you need anything, alright?” Hao says. 

Hanbin hesitates. He knows it’s a last attempt at salvaging whatever it was that they had. Hanbin won’t really send a message, at least not anytime soon, but he ends up nodding anyway. It’s a promise for later, for when they’ve both had time to heal and mend. Hao knows this too, and he smiles softly, satisfied, before shutting the door.

Shifting the books in his grasp, Hanbin steps off Hao’s doorstep. The dark clouds from earlier seemed to have rolled right over their area, and Hanbin squints to see against the glare of the sun. Carefully, he makes his way down Hao’s driveway and sets the books on his passenger seat before climbing into the driver’s seat. Exhaustion suddenly fills his entire being, and he gently rests his head on the steering wheel. His heart is still beating erratically in his chest, still trying to recover from laying his most intimate, raw feelings bare to Hao.

Eight years. It’s been eight years since Hanbin first met Hao at their elementary school, eight years since his feelings started taking root, eight years since the start of Hanbin hopelessly chasing after Hao like a puppy chasing its tail. 

Although he’s still reeling in shock at what had just happened, Hanbin can’t help but feel it’s all a little anticlimactic. He’s not sure what he was expecting—tears, a chance with Hao in his wildest dreams—however, he supposes it’s better this way. Hanbin has always been a pragmatic person, has always been a creature of logic, yet something about Hao has always made it difficult for him to think with anything but his heart. His poor, tender heart, which never even stood a chance ever since Hanbin first laid eyes on Hao all those years ago.

Hanbin’s phone pings with a text. Outside, the neighbor’s dog barks and a child whizzes by on his bike. The world picks back up again, and Hanbin is pulled out of his little moment of reminiscence. Setting up his phone navigation, Hanbin starts his car’s ignition and, without looking back, finally heads home.