Archive of Our Own

Fujian, 2010

When Hao is ten, his whole life changes. 

He’s used to the breathtaking sights of Fujian- the majestic mountains, the mighty Min River. He’s used to his home, his music classes, his small room adorned with his beloved Crayon Shin-Chan toys. 

His mom said they’d be moving to Korea soon. He doesn’t really know why; his mom offers little in the way of explanation. But Zhang hao isn’t stupid. He might be young, but he sees everything.

His dad coming back home from work later and later, some days not even bothering coming back at all. The light in his beautiful mother’s eyes dimming little by little, her smiles getting less bright as time goes by.

So, Hao might not know, but he understands. 

Understands the need to escape, the need to start anew. 

He will follow his mom anywhere, if it means seeing her happy again.

________________________

He doesn’t have many things that tie him to China. His friends are few, if they can even be called that, loneliness becoming his constant companion. Most days, he finds solace in the music room alongside his teacher. He’s come to terms with this reality, despite his young age.

When it comes to family, he only has his mom. She, too, is an only child, just like him. His father’s side has never concealed their disdain for her and, by extension, Hao. So, most of the time, it’s just them.

His mom asks him to keep it a secret, their moving. And Hao does, although he doesn’t really have anyone to tell. Together, they enroll in Korean classes, trying to learn as much as possible in the little time they have left. 

They try speaking Korean at home, and it’s a disaster, but it’s so fun. He hasn’t seen his mom smile this much in a long time, laughing until tears gather at the corner of her eyes. Happiness suits her, makes her look even more beautiful. Hao knows moving is the right choice for both of them.

When they leave, it’s not a grand affair. There are no tears, no one mourning their departure, no grand farewells. His maternal grandparents are the only ones who know, and care, if he’s being honest. They know it’s the right choice as well.

Hao doesn’t think his father knows they are leaving, and if he does, he’s clearly not interested in it.

They board the plane, and there’s that. It’s done. 

________________________ 

Cheonan, 2010

Cheonan greets Hao with its captivating beauty. He can see some mountains, reminiscent of those in Fujian. It's not as big as his hometown, but it’s not small either, by any means.

They settle into a cozy house nestled within a quiet neighborhood. It’s pretty here, big and beautiful trees adorning the streets, cheerful sounds of kids playing filling the air. 

His mom was smart enough to get a furnished house. It’s minimalistic, and it feels very lifeless, but it won’t stay like that for long.

School is different than in China, so Hao gets sent to a class with kids slightly younger than him. His mother tells him not to worry, and Hao really doesn’t. His worries are different, like communication, for example.

His mom drops him off at school a little earlier than needed on the first day, so he can introduce himself to his teacher before class. He also needs to memorize the route to school, as he’ll be traveling alone starting tomorrow.

The school is kind of small, compared to the one he used to go to in Fujian. There aren't many kids here either, but that was to be expected, considering the early hour. 

He finds his classroom, door slightly ajar, with a young woman by the desk. Hao slowly enters, feeling his legs wobble with every step he takes.

"Good… morning," he utters, unsure. His Korean is not bad, but he’s not used to speaking it out loud.

The teacher, he presumes, gives him a radiant smile. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she greets. “You must be our new student, Zhang Hao, yes?” He nods. “Great! I hope you feel at home here. If you encounter any problem, don’t hesitate to find me. Understand?” she says, words accompanied by a soft squeeze to his shoulder and a warm smile.

“Yes,” he replies, taken aback by the reassuring tone in her voice.

“Good,” she nods. “You’re in luck, your desk mate has arrived already. Go sit with him, have a little chat before class,” she adds, ushering him towards the only other kid in the classroom. 

Before he has the chance to leave, the teacher softly whispers, “Don’t be scared, he’s a very kind and gentle kid. That’s why I paired you up with him. I think you’ll be good friends.”

Hao goes, a little uncertain at first, heart racing and palms sweaty.

As he nears, the boy glances up from the book he’s absorbed in. Hao thinks it’s poetry. What kind of nine-year-old reads poetry, he wonders. 

Their eyes lock and he smiles, blinding. Hao’s never seen someone smile with their whole face like this. He’s got dimples right beneath his eyes, resembling little whiskers.

Hao feels more confident after that, closing the gap between them with newfound assurance.

“Hello,” the other boy greets first. “You must be the new student, right?” Hao nods. “Cool! Teacher said you were from China. My name is Sung Hanbin. Nice to meet you,” the boy, Hanbin, says, rising from his seat and offering a respectful bow to Hao.

It’s funny how he says his name, the tone on the last syllable going up, Hao thinks as he bows back.

“Sung… Hanbin,” Hao repeats, slightly unsure. 

Hanbin nods. “Yes! That’s perfect. Can you say it again?” he asks.

“Sung Hanbin” Hao repeats, more confident this time.

Hanbin practically radiates enthusiasm, clapping his hands and beaming at Hao. 

“Please don’t be nervous around me,” he urges. “I know Korean is not your first language, so I promise to help you as much as I can with it. If there’s something you don’t understand, ask me, I won’t laugh at you or anything like that.”

Hao feels…funny upon hearing Hanbin’s words. His chest tightens, eyes prickling with tears. He blinks rapidly to keep them at bay, it would be embarrassing to cry in front of a classmate he just met.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Hanbin,” Hao says, hoping his eyes can convey the gratitude he can’t put into words.

“Don’t thank me! I haven’t done anything yet,” he responds with a light-hearted giggle. Hao suspects that Hanbin may not fully grasp the impact of his words. “Wait, you haven’t said your name yet.”

“It’s Zhang Hao,” he answers. “But just Hao is fine, if you want.”

Hanbin rehearses his name silently a few times before saying it aloud, “Zhang Hao… is that right?” he asks, doubtful. Hao nods, smiling at the boy. “Great! I like your name, Hao.” 

The teacher claps her hands, and both boys jump in surprise, startled by the sound. Neither were paying attention to their surroundings. Their classroom is suddenly crowded with classmates. “Let’s sit Hao,” Hanbin says, “class is about to begin.”

He sits, puts his books on the table and introduces himself to the rest of the class after the teacher requests it. He stutters just a little bit, feeling proud of himself. 

Hanbin’s also proud of him, it seems, as he mutters “Good job,” under his breath.

Hao smiles at him.

________________________

They take the train to school together every day, after realizing their houses are merely a few blocks apart. Every morning, without fail, Hanbin arrives at Hao’s doorstep, even though it should be the other way around, as Hanbin lives closer to the station.

Hao doesn’t complain. Hanbin is a morning person; his endless energy and infectious happiness are impossible to miss. Hao, on the other hand, practically sleepwalks to school. He knows Hanbin doesn’t need the extra 10 minutes of sleep he would get if he didn’t come to pick him up.

Once, Hao almost crashed into a tree. As a protective measure, according to Hanbin, they now walk hand in hand everywhere. Hao doesn’t object; the weight of Hanbin’s hand in his feels grounding, especially at the early hours, where everything feels hazy and his body seems heavier than usual.

Over the next few days, they become inseparable.  It’s weird, Hao thinks sometimes, how they fit together so naturally. As if they were meant to meet, meant to be friends.

As expected, Hao wants to know everything about Hanbin, and wants to tell Hanbin everything about himself in return. Which they do, over the weeks.

Hao learns that Hanbin loves dancing, was born and raised in Cheonan, and has a five-year-old sister.

When he speaks about his sister his eyes shine, full of adoration. Hao feels a little jealous. He supposes it´s because he’ll never get to experience the whole sibling thing. Or maybe he wants someone to speak about him with as much love as Hanbin speaks about his baby sister.

He also discovers Hanbin is just as the teacher described him — gentle, generous, respectful, compassionate, loving. The list would go on if Hao knew more words, but his vocabulary knowledge fails him for now.

Hanbin is just as eager to know about him. Hao is more than willing to share, no inhibitions. Which is crazy, considering he’s never opened up like this to anyone else, not even his mom.

He tells him about his love for music, his violin sitting at home, untouched. Hanbin asks him to play for him, which Hao agrees to, someday. He needs time to shake off the nostalgia that washes over him at the thought of playing again. 

He tells him about his dad, how he made his mom’s eyes appear less shiny day after day, how worried he was, and how relieved he felt when she said they’d be leaving.

When Hanbin asks him about his friends back in China, Hao falls silent. He tries to think of someone, anyone, so he doesn’t seem like a loser, like a weirdo, but he comes up empty. So, he decides to be honest.

“I… didn’t really have a lot of friends,” Hao admits shyly, fingers absently tracing the back of his neck.

In response, Hanbin takes Hao's free hand, interlacing their fingers. Hao’s realized, over the course of their short friendship, that Hanbin really likes physical contact. Hao doesn’t mind, as it somehow soothes his nerves every time it happens. 

 “There’s nothing wrong with that Hao,” Hanbin reassures him, words accompanied by that ever-present sweet smile. “I’ll be your first friend, and I promise we’ll be friends forever.” 

Hanbin offers him his pinky and Hao links it with his own, sealing the promise.

Hao believes him.

And so, their story begins.

________________________ 

Cheonan, 2011 

When Hao is eleven, he is allowed to stay the night at his friend’s house for the first time.

They’ve been friends for over a year, and Hao’s been begging his mom to let him have a pajama party with Hanbin for the past three months, but she keeps turning him down, saying something about not being able to sleep calmly if her baby isn’t home. Hao’s pre-adolescent brain thinks it’s lame.

Finally, the day comes. A week after Hao’s birthday, she approaches him out of the blue and says, “Honey, if you wish to stay over at Hanbin’s, you’re allowed now.”

Hao practically cries out of happiness, jumping up and down before hugging his mom tightly. He rushes to the front door, swapping his house slippers for outdoor shoes. “I'm going to Hanbin’s mom; I need to tell him about this right now.”

She laughs, all bright and beautiful, as it used to be. “I’m glad you boys have each other,” she says before growing serious. “Listen to me, Zhang Hao,” she makes sure he’s looking at her before continuing, “you have to take care of Hanbin. You must do it. This is an obligation.”

Hao is taken aback by her words and the seriousness in her tone, confusion clouding his features. 

“You’ve noticed, right?” his mom continues, “how Hanbin always takes care of others?” Hao nods. Of course, he’s noticed; he’s one of those people. “Have you wondered, my dear son, who takes care of Hanbin?”

Hao thinks. Hanbin’s mom, for sure, but he supposes that's to be expected. He thinks harder, but no answer comes to mind.

Hanbin takes care of everyone —his little sister, his parents, his classmates, and even Hao. But who takes care of Hanbin? When has he taken care of Hanbin, he wonders?

Never.

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks. He can’t recall a single time when he’s taken care of Hanbin as Hanbin has taken care of him.

Hanbin, who was so nice to him the first day of class and made him feel welcomed in a foreign country. Hanbin, who always makes sure he understands conversations. Hanbin, who always opens doors for him. Hanbin, who holds his hand every morning so sleepy Hao doesn’t run into things. Hanbin, who walks him home every day after school even though it’s out of his way.

Hao could go on the entire day if he wishes to.

He starts feeling a bit queasy. His mother takes on the look on his face and nears him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, honey,” she says, “but friendships are a two-way street. You give just as much as you receive, yes?” Hao nods. “Hanbin is very open with his feelings, as you’ve noticed,” Hao nods again, of course, he’s noticed, “and I’m not saying you have to be like him, but… let me put it this way… when Hanbin does nice things for you, how do you feel?”

Hao knows the answer immediately. “Warm and… like my heart is being squeezed. But not in a bad way.”

His mother’s eyes show surprise. “Oh…” she says and then smiles, small and soft, “well, in that case, would you like Hanbin to feel the same way as you?” Hao nods, once more. He’d like that very much. “Then you have to do things for him to feel that way, nice things. Understood?”

“Yes, Mom. Thank you.” 

She hugs him then, and it feels very nice. They don’t hug very often, don’t have conversations like this very often.

“You don’t have to thank me, silly boy. I’m your mother, so it’s my job to teach you things,” his mom draws away but doesn’t let him go, grabbing him by the shoulders. It seems like the talk is not over yet. “Listen carefully, Zhang Hao. If you ever have something to tell me, anything at all, I want you to know that I’ll be there for you.” 

The fierceness in her eyes confuses him. He doesn’t quite understand where this is coming from, but he’s grateful nonetheless, and he says as much to her. She smiles at him, smooching his cheek goodbye. 

“Great! Off you go then.”

________________________  

When Hao arrives at Hanbin's home, it’s his mother who answers the door.

“Good afternoon, Auntie,” Hao greets with a bow, “is Hanbinnie home?”

She looks surprised. It’s rare for him to drop by unannounced. “Good afternoon sweetheart,” she says, patting his head. Hao really likes her, she’s warm and lovely, just like Hanbin. “Come in, he’s in his room. He’ll be happy to see you.”

“Pardon for the intrusion,” he says as he enters. 

He takes off his shoes and Auntie gives him his slippers. They were a gift from Hanbin, so he could have his own pair here. Hao loves them, as they are panda shaped. 

He climbs the stairs and finds Hanbin laying in bed, reading that poetry book of his. Hao has asked about it before, intrigued, as he’s never met any other kid interested in poetry. Hanbin said it was his mom’s, and she used to read a poem to him every night before bed.

Sometimes Hao wonders if his love for reading poetry is one of the reasons Hanbin speaks so prettily.

His friend doesn’t notice Hao’s arrival, so he softly taps on the door, as to not startle him. Hanbin is surprised at the sight of him. “Hyung? What are you doing here?” he asks, putting his book aside and sitting up.

“Aren’t you happy to see me, Hanbinnie?” Hao asks, sitting beside him. Hanbin’s cheeks flush, as they always do when he’s embarrassed at something.

“Han…binnie?” he stammers, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yes, Hanbinnie,” Hao says as he throws his arms around Hanbin’s neck, crushing him with the force of his hug.  

“Ow… hyung, what has gotten into you?” Hanbin asks, reciprocating the embrace and squeezing their cheeks together in the process. 

Hao stays there a few seconds, just enjoying how comforting it feels to hug someone, especially his friend. 

He understands where Hanbin’s surprise is coming from; he’s never been one to initiate skinship before. It’s not that he doesn’t like it, especially when it’s Hanbin, it’s just that he’s never really had to do it, since Hanbin is so touchy and all. Still, his mom’s words have awakened something within him. 

“Nothing… can’t I show some love to my best friend?”

Hanbin draws back, eyes wide and mouth forming a cute ‘O’ shape. “I’m your best friend Hyung? For real?” 

Ouch… that hurt a little, if Hao’s being honest. “Obviously.”

Hanbin’s cheeks grow even redder, if that’s possible. His ears look like they’re about to melt off. He scratches the back of his head again, a nervous habit of his. “It’s just that… you’ve never said it.”

Hao takes both Hanbin’s hands in him, making sure their eyes are locked in a firm gaze before he speaks. He needs Hanbin to believe him, he needs to make sure Hanbin understands how much he values him.

“Well, I’m saying it now, Hanbinnie, and I’ll say it forever, because you’re the only best friend I’ll ever have,” Hao says. Hanbin’s eyes are shining a little bit, he notices. “You’re the best Hanbin. You’re so nice, kind, you take good care of me and I really like being with you. From now on I will take care of you too and…” Hao stops, suddenly feeling shy, but he must finish what he started. “Umm… I hope you think I’m your best friend too.”

Hanbin looks at him like he’s stupid. It’s not very insulting, considering the unshed tears in his eyes and all. “Obviously…” he says, repeating Hao’s words from earlier.

Hao playfully slaps his arm and then they’re hugging again. To Hao’s young brain, this feels monumental, like something has changed within him and his friendship with Hanbin.

He truly feels invincible, like nothing will ever break them apart. He hopes he’s right. But as his mom always says, hope is not enough to make things happen, so he’ll work hard for it.

“Wait, I actually came here to give you good news,” Hao remembers, breaking their embrace. “My mom said I’m allowed to have sleepovers now! Isn't that so cool?”

Hanbin can’t contain his excitement at the news. “Finally!! What if we have one today?” he exclaims, leaping from his bed and rushing out of his room. Hao hears the faint scream of, “Let me ask my mom to ask your mom,” as Habin runs down the stairs

Hao smiles. He feels happy.

________________________ 

Cheonan, 2011

When Hao is twelve, he realizes something.

Hanbin also gets sad.

It’s normal to feel sad sometimes, Hao knows, but he’s never seen his friend sad before, so he didn’t think he could feel that way. It makes him sad as well, to see him like this.

This morning, when Hanbin comes to find him, he’s acting strange. He doesn’t do their secret door knock, he doesn’t hug him good morning, he doesn’t smile. His eyes are lifeless.

The sight tugs at Hao’s heart, prompting him to act. If Hanbin’s not going to hug him, he’ll do it instead, his mom’s words from a while ago still fresh on his mind; it can’t always be Hanbin the one who does things for him. Hao must do things for his friend as well.

“Good morning Hanbinnie”, Hao greets him, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Hao knows this was the right choice as Hanbin hugs him back with all his might. “Are you okay?” he quietly asks, voice coated with genuine worry.

Hanbin responds with a subtle shake of his head. Hao’s about to ask if he wants to talk about it, but Hanbin, as always, already knows what’s on his mind. “Not yet hyung, maybe later.”

“Alright,” Hao agrees, nodding his head. “Let’s go then, or we’ll be late.”

Reluctantly, they let go of each other. Hao seeks for his friend’s hand, intertwining their fingers. He gives it a tight squeeze, hoping the gesture can offer some comfort.

Each morning, while they make their way to school, Hanbin talks his ear off. Hao loves it, if he’s being honest. Today, however, the roles are reversed, as his friend is not really in the mood. It doesn’t bother him, to do the talking, although he hopes he’s not annoying him…

Hao falls silent at the thought.

Hanbin turns to look at him, “Why did you stop hyung?”

“I’m not annoying you?” Hao asks, free hand scratching the back of his head.

His friend shakes his head. “No, hyung. It’s nice to hear you talk, and it doesn’t happen all the time so I’m enjoying it while I can,” he says, offering a small smile to Hao.

A blush creeps onto Hao’s cheeks, mouth contorting in a bashful grin, “Oh… it’s nice to know, Hanbinnie.”

And so, he continues his quest to cheer up Hanbin, filling the silence with never-ending chat until they reach school. His throat feels a little bit hurt by the end of it, but anything for Hanbin.

________________________

Hanbin’s mood persists for the rest of the day. Hao doesn’t ask again what’s wrong. He knows Hanbin will tell him once he’s ready, but he can’t help but worry at seeing his usually lively and energetic friend so down.

When school finishes and they’re walking home, Hanbin asks something that makes Hao feel uneasy.

“Can we go to your house hyung? No one’s at mine.” Which is… weird, if Hao’s being honest.

Hanbin’s mom is always at home. She doesn’t work, unlike his mom. It’s why they spend most of their afternoons at Hanbin’s instead of his.

But Hao is not going to deny Hanbin what he wants, so of course he agrees, masking his growing curiosity with a reassuring smile.

As they arrive at Hao’s house, they follow their routine: exchange outdoor shoes for slippers, wash hands, drink a glass of water.

Once they’re done, he sees Hanbin’s shoulders relax, even if just a fraction, and the crease between his brows, present the entire day, smooth. Hanbin takes a deep breath, expanding his chest, and then slowly lets it out. It seems like it’s the first real breath he’s taken since he woke up.

Hao has an idea. This is what his mom does for him when he’s feeling sad, so maybe doing it for Hanbin will help cheer him up.

“I’ll cut up some fruit, make yourself at home,” Hao says.

He stays in the kitchen while Hanbin patters to the living room. Hao can hear him shuffling around, as he always does when he comes. He’s seen Hao’s baby pictures a million times, yet he always insists that a million times it's not nearly enough.

Under normal circumstances, Hanbin’s voice would fill every place, but not today, making the sound of the knife against the cutting board weirdly loud in the quiet house.

Hao carefully arranges the pieces of fruit on a plate, trying to distract himself from the worry that clouding his thoughts. He wants to know what's plaguing his friend’s mind, wants to share the burden of his concerns. Hanbin always makes him feel better, so he wants to do the same.

Hao walks into the living room, plate of fruit in hand, and sits next to Hanbin on the couch. “Here you go Hanbinnie, eat a little.”

“Thank you hyung, for taking care of me,” Hanbin whispers with a grateful smile.

Hao’s chest feels warm at his words. Honestly, he kind of feels like screaming right now. He didn’t know looking after someone could feel this rewarding.

A few minutes later, Hanbin murmurs, “We can talk now hyung… if you want.” His voice sounds unsure, as if Hao would deny him.

“Of course,” Hao answers, placing his hand on Hanbin’s back, hoping it provides some comfort. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Hanbin takes a deep breath before starting, eyes rooted to the floor. “My sister was so sick last night our parents had to take her to the hospital,” he explains, distressed. “It was so scary, hyung. She kept screaming and crying, nothing calmed her. When I went to see her, she didn’t even recognize me.”

Hao is at a loss for words. He’s never had to deal with a situation like this, doesn’t know what’s the right thing to say in order to make Hanbin feel better. He supposes it’s better if he stays shut and just listens to him, yet he wishes he could do more. Wishes he was the one in pain right now, not Hanbin.

“Is your sister back home now?” he asks. She isn’t, he suspects, given that Hanbin’s mom isn’t there.

“No hyung, she’s going to have to stay there for at least a week. I’m… scared something bad could happen to her.” And with this, tears finally fall from his eyes.

Hao’s chest aches. It’s so jarring to see his friend, who shines brighter than the sun, like this. “I’m sorry, Hanbinnie,” he whispers softly, caressing his hair. That seems to do the trick, as Hanbin his sobs gradually subside.

Kissing the top of his head, Hao cups Hanbi’s face in his hands, locking their eyes. His eyes are puffy, nose and cheeks so red. He knows this is not the time to think of something like this, but he looks very adorable.

“Are you feeling better, Hanbinnie?” Hao asks.

Hanbin gives him a teary smile, signature whiskers almost making an appearance. “Yes hyung, thanks.”  

Hao gets an idea. “Would you like to stay here tonight? I’ll have my mom call yours.” The thought of Hanbin being alone at a time like this makes his stomach twist.

Hanbin’s eyes brighten as he nods. “That’d be nice”.

Hao wipes away the remaining tears and releases his friend’s face. “Great. Let’s wait until my mom gets here. Would you like to do something while we wait for her?”

Hao’s so attuned to Hanbin’s every movement that he sees it, right then; the quick look he gives to his violin case. He moved it to the living room a long time ago, since he doesn’t play anymore. Hasn’t played since he moved to Korea.

He knows Hanbin has always been curious about it, has wanted to hear him play, and Hao promised a while ago that one day that he’d do it. It’s just that… it feels like going back to a time he’d rather not remember.

But maybe, starting today, he can create new memories with his violin. Instead of looking at it and thinking about times where he was lonely, where his mom was sad, he can think about Hanbin instead.

He makes the decision then; he’ll do it. If it means seeing Hanbin smile, he’ll do it.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves and hiding his trembling hands behind his back, he asks, “Would you like me to play the violin for you?”

Hanbin lets out a loud gasp, face incredulous. “Really, hyung? You would do that for me?”

“Yes,” Hao replies immediately, feeling a little winded all of a sudden. Just thinking about playing the violin again makes him breathless.

Hanbin throws himself at Hao, which sends both of them stumbling down the couch. “Thank you so much hyung, I’ve always wanted this.”

They stay there for a few minutes, Hanbin squishing him. “If you want me to play you have to get up,” Hao teases him with a chuckle.

“Right. I’m sorry,” Hanbin murmurs, cheeks tinged with red. He sits up eagerly, awaiting Hao’s next move.

Hao rises from the couch, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling within him. He walks over to where his violin case rests against the wall. His mom always keeps it clean and neat, waiting for the day he decides to play again, which he honestly thought would never come.

He carefully unlatches the case, and there it is, his beloved violin. It looks just as he remembers it, shiny, polished wood, soft under the touch.

In the past, whenever he peeked inside the case to see how his instrument was faring after not being used for so long, he felt ill, his stomach churning with nausea.

It’s not like that today. Today, he feels eager, and it’s all thanks to Hanbin, who’s practically bouncing on the couch in anticipation.

“Alright,” Hao says, forcing his tensed body to relax. “Here we go.”

Placing the violin under his chin feels strange, but not unfamiliar. He used to do this every single day a few years ago.

He needs to tune it first, so he does just that. He’s always been good at this, his teachers used to praise him all the time. His brows furrow in concentration as he tries to find the perfect position of the pegs.

After a while, he’s ready, or so he thinks. It’s been a long time, after all. His hands still shake, even if it’s just a little.

Hanbin must notice how he feels, as he says, “Don’t be nervous hyung, it’s just me,” with a comforting smile.

Hanbin’s right. Hao’s not in front of a teacher, afraid of making any mistakes; he’s not in front of an audience, afraid of not being perfect. He’s in front of Hanbin, his best friend. They know everything about each other. There’s nothing to be nervous about.

With a nod, he takes a steadying breath, fingers gently gripping the bow. As the first notes of the violin fill the room, a wave of nostalgia washes over him. But it’s not bad, not at all. It feels… like he’s meeting an old friend again.

He plays an old Chinese song, one of the first pieces he learned. His teacher always said that it was rather melancholic, and he never really understood why. He does it now, as the melody echoes the mood of the day.

Hao's nervousness begins to fade the more he plays. He knows he's good at this, has always been. It appears irrational to him now, the reason why he stopped playing.

When the last note fades, the room is silent. A needle could drop and they would be able to hear it. Hao lowers his violin, heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability.

He opens his eyes, meeting Hanbin’s gaze, and finds his friend’s eyes shining with unshed tears. Maybe the song reminded Hanbin of something sad, maybe he should’ve chosen something different, maybe…

Before he can continue his train of thought, Hanbin begins to move his hands, trying to calm him down, as the worry must show on his face, “Hyung, I’m not sad. That was beautiful, that’s why I’m crying,” he explains.

A sigh of relief escapes his lips. It’s good to know that, and he says as much to him. Hanbin dries his tears with the back of his hand and finally, finally, Hao thinks, smiles, big and bright and real. It reaches his eyes, makes them shine.

Hao feels happier just by seeing that.

He carefully puts the violin back in its place and sits on the sofa, right next to Hanbin, who is fidgeting his hands. There’s something else on his mind, Hao knows. “What are you thinking about?” 

Hanbin looks at him inquisitively. “Can I ask you something, Hao hyung?”

Hao nods. “Anything Hanbinnie.”

“Why did you stop playing?” Hanbin asks, which is to be expected. If the roles were reversed, he’d want to know as well. It’s a hard question, yet Hao has an answer. He’s given it a lot of thought during his time in Korea.

“I guess… I didn’t want to remember how I felt before coming here,” Hao replies, and it’s the truth. Life was hard before, and it’s easier now. It’s as simple as that.

Hanbin seems surprised by the response, letting out a soft “Oh”, before asking, “Did you… feel like that just now? Like before, I mean?” 

“No,” Hao answers, keeping it simple yet honest. He doesn’t elaborate and Hanbin doesn’t press further, satisfied.

After a brief moment of silence, his friend speaks again, “I have one more thing to ask, hyung.” Hao nods, encouraging him to continue. “Please don’t stop playing again. I know it’s a lot to ask but… please do it for me.”

Hao is taken aback. Hanbin never, ever, asks for anything. Not from him, not from his own mother, not from their friends, not from anyone. He’s not like that, he never wants, only gives.

Before he can answer, the front door unlocks, his mom appearing out of nowhere. They didn’t even hear her car parking, engrossed in the moment.

“I’m home,” she announces, not realizing the presence of two very young boys at the couch, acting as if they were very experienced adults, having deep conversations about life.

Hanbin stands up, politely bowing to his mom. That’s when she realizes they’re here. “Oh, hello Hanbinnie baby,” she greets him warmly, stepping closer and playfully ruffling his hair.

“Hi auntie,” Hanbin responds. Hao already knows what his next words will be, even before they’re out of his mouth. “Auntie, Hao-hyung played the violin for me!” he recounts, jumping with excitement.

His mom is stunned. And Hao understands her reaction. She’s been trying for so long to get him back into it, but had seemingly given up the past few months, as she stopped mentioning it.

“He… played the violin?” she asks, incredulous. Hao can see the tears gather into her eyes, and then she’s hugging Hanbin with as much strength as she can summon.

“Thank you Hanbinnie,” she says, loudly smooching his cheek. Hanbin’s face is as red as a tomato. Hao thinks he looks very funny. 

His friend is a bit puzzled by her actions. “But… I didn’t do anything Auntie,” he says in mild bewilderment.

His mom laughs, joy spilling over. She looks younger like this, Hao thinks. Like the memories he has of her back in Fujian, when he was very tiny and they visited they played in the park together. “My dear son you’ve done so much, you can’t even imagine.”

Before she can embarrass Hanbin any further, Hao steps in. “Mom, I need Hanbin to stay here tonight, his sister is very sick and his parents are at the hospital. I don’t want him to be alone.”

Turning to Hanbin, she cups his face on her hands and scans his features. “Are you okay son?” Hanbin nods. He can’t really speak as she’s aggressively squishing his cheeks, making him look like a fish. Hehe. “Good. I’ll talk to your mom. Don’t be sad Hanbinnie, everything will go well. We’ll take care of you here.”

Hanbin nods again. “I know you will,” he says, or tries to, really, with his cheeks still squished.

The scene in front of him is so funny, Hao can’t help but let out a hearty chuckle. Not long after his mom and Hanbin join, filling his always empty house with the sound of happiness.

As long as they have each other, everything will be fine.

________________________ 

Cheonan, 2013

When Hao is thirteen, he discovers a new feeling.

He can’t put a name to it, entirely unfamiliar. But it sets his chest on fire, knots his stomach, and makes his throat brim with unspoken words. He really, really, really wants to hit something. Or someone.

It’s all Hanbin’s fault.

Well, not really Hanbin’s fault; he hasn’t done anything wrong.

But the girl who’s hugging him? It seems like she wants to die. By Hao’s hands.

Today has been a shitty day, Hao concludes as he turns around with a heavy sigh and leaves.

He knows Hanbin saw him.

Good. He wanted that.

________________________

 It all went downhill at exactly seven-forty a.m. 

As usual, he and Hanbin arrive a little bit earlier than the rest to school. It’s a tradition they’ve had since they first met, as they like to have time to settle in and relax before classes begin.

Today, unusually, they’re not alone in the classroom.

There’s a girl. And she’s using Hao’s seat.

Well, to be fair, seats aren’t officially assigned. Anyone can sit anywhere. But everyone in this class knows that Hao and Hanbin sit together. Always have.

And this isn’t just any girl; she’s, their classmate. So, she knows.

Hao takes a deep breath. Calm down

“That’s my seat,” he states, face a mask of indifference. He can’t let her know how pissed off he’s feeling right now.

The girl doesn’t budge, instead, she asks, “Can I sit here today?” twirling her hair around her finger and giving him a failed attempt at puppy-dog eyes.

Internally, Hao gags. Who does she think she is?

“No,” he deadpans, annoyed with the situation. He can hear Hanbin softly gasping beside him. Hao’s never been rude to anyone before, but she’s pushing his buttons.

The girl seems surprised as well. “Okay… so grouchy.” As she stands up, she puts her dirty hand on Hanbin’s shoulder, “Bin, can we talk after school?”

Bin? Who does she think she is? She’s not his friend to call him that.

That nickname has been ruined. He’s never calling him Bin.

“Uh, sure,” Hanbin mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. His ears are red. Hao can tell by the look in his eyes that he doesn’t understand what’s going on.

Oh, but Hao understands. He understands all too well.

This girl has been looking at Hanbin nonstop ever since the school year started, and Hanbin, sweet Hanbin, is far too clueless to realize that she likes him.

Hao wonders if perhaps he isn’t as clueless as he appears. Maybe that’s why his ears are so red…

The thought makes him nauseous. Weird, maybe he ate something at breakfast that upset his stomach.

________________________ 

School is over.

Hao has been dreading this moment. He’s tried not to think about it, failing miserably. He can’t even look at Hanbin in the face. Sweet, lovely, clueless Hanbinnie has no idea what’s wrong with him. He’s asked a million times and Hao’s answer keeps being the same: “Nothing”.

Hao knows he’s being immensely unfair to his friend, but today his emotions are overwhelming him like never before and he has no idea what to do about it.

As they pack up to leave, the devil girl approaches them, reminding Hanbin of their talk.

“Can it be here?” he asks.

He really doesn’t know a single thing… if this situation wasn’t so distressing for Hao, he’d find him extremely endearing.

Wait… distressing?

“Binnie,” she grabs him by the arm and gives him those ugly puppy-dog eyes, “we need some privacy.”

Hao rolls his eyes so hard it physically hurts him. He would gag if he could.

“Ah… I see,” his friend answers, turning around and freeing himself from her grip. “Hyung, wait for me here. I’ll be right back and then we can go home,” he says, giving Hao’s arm a reassuring squeeze before he leaves.

Hao waits. Hanbin does not come back as quickly as he promised.

They’ve taken their sweet time. Exactly twenty-one minutes. Not that he’s counting.

Patience running thin, he embarks on a quest to find them. It's not difficult.

As Hao turns the corner, he spots them. She’s hugging him, and Hanbin’s patting her back, as if trying to comfort her. He may not be hugging her back but he’s still touching her, letting her cling onto him.

Hao feels as though someone has stabbed him. He clenches his fists, heart pounding in his chest. Tears well up in his eyes, not out of sadness, but out of rage. It’s a sight he wishes he could unsee.

He can’t bear to witness this any longer.

Right as his and Hanbin’s eyes lock across the hall, Hao turns on his heel and sprints away, footsteps echoing loudly in the empty corridor. His heart races, thumping against his ribcage, effectively deafening him.

He runs as if his life depends on it, breath coming in ragged gasps, legs burning, but he can’t slow down. Hao knows that if he does, Hanbin will catch up. He’s right behind, calling his name.

Finally, he bursts through the train station’s doors, lungs gasping for air. Relief washes over him as he sees the waiting train. He thanks every single god he knows that he manages to board it.

Leaning against the cold wall, Hao closes his eyes and tries to catch his breath. He feels dizzy, nauseous. Perhaps it’s from exertion, perhaps from the situation that shall not be remembered — maybe both.

He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. "What's wrong with me?" he mutters.

He needs to find out soon, before this gets even more out of control.

________________________ 

As soon as Hao gets home, he changes into his pajamas and cries. He feels very frustrated, as he’s not able to make sense of his emotions.

He feels betrayed, but he doesn’t know why. Hanbin hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not like he did something he hasn’t done before, either. Contrary to popular belief, they do have more friends, and Hanbin is naturally a very touchy person.

He can hear Hanbin knocking on his front door and calling his name. Hao does not open.

It’s wrong and Hao knows it. Hanbin doesn’t deserve to be treated like this, but he can’t face him now, not without understanding what’s going on first. He doesn’t want to hurt him even more than he already has.

He has no idea how much time he’s been rotting in his room when his mom returns home from work. It can’t have been too long, as there’s still some daylight left.

She’s mad. No words are necessary when he can hear the way she’s stomping her feet as she approaches his room

“Zhang Hao,” she says, not even bothering to knock. “Explain to me right now: why didn’t you let Hanbin in? The poor boy was sitting outside, freezing to death! What the hell is wrong with you?”

He cries. What else can he do?

His mom doesn’t seem to take pity on him, and honestly, it’s deserved. "I sent him home," she adds with a tired sigh. “Sit up, Zhang Hao, we’re going to talk.”

The finality in her voice leaves no room for arguing, so he complies. She sits on the edge of the bed, clasping her hands together and upwards, as if in prayer. Hao doesn’t even know if she believes in God.

"Why are you crying?" she asks, tone flat, zero pity in her voice.

It’s a bit embarrassing to admit out loud, Hao thinks, but his mom is not leaving until he tells her everything. “Well... I saw Hanbin hugging a girl.”

 “And.”

Hao suddenly feels offended, “What do you mean ‘and’, mom?” he says, with as much indignation as he can gather.

“What’s wrong with him hugging a girl?”

Well, that’s the thing. Hao doesn’t know. Doesn’t know why it felt so wrong to see that, why he’s having a whole meltdown over it.  

He sighs, “I don’t know, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. I really don’t know why I got like this.”

His mom hums, contemplative. “What did you feel? When you saw Hanbin hugging that girl, I mean.”

“Like I wanted to punch her,” he admits, the words escaping his mouth unfiltered. He expects his mom to scold him, but she instead just… laughs.

“You’re crazy,” she says after she calms down. “But please, continue. Tell me what else you felt.”

And Hao does just that. Tells her how he felt like someone was stabbing him, heart squeezing in his chest, physically hurting him. How he felt nauseous, how he wanted to cry.

His mom carefully thinks her words before saying, “Well, my dear son, let me enlighten you. What you felt is called jealousy.”

Jealousy…

Yeah, that actually makes sense, Hao thinks. He knows what jealousy is; he’s just never felt it before. But as his mom utters those words, he knows she’s right. He was jealous. But why?

He’s about to ask that question when she beats him to it. “I can’t tell you why you’re jealous; that’s for you to figure out. Maybe you’ll do it tomorrow, maybe in a few years, but I trust you’ll reach the right conclusion someday, my son,” she says, patting his head and looking at him like he might be stupid.

“Now, listen to me carefully.” She’s serious about this. Hao straightens his back; he knows he’s about to get scolded. Again. “You’re going to Hanbin’s house and you’re telling him exactly what you’ve just told me. And you’re going to apologize for ignoring him. Hanbin doesn’t deserve such treatment from you," she states, disappointment evident in her tone. But the beating is far from over. “Has Hanbin ever ignored you?” she asks, “even when he’s upset?”

“No…” Hao admits, and it’s the truth.

“Then…” she adds, looking at him like the answer to this crisis is right in front of him. And it is.

He just hurt his friend and he needs to apologize. But…what if Hanbin’s so angry that he never wants to speak to Hao again? What if he leaves him for that ugly girl?

Hao doesn’t realize he’s asked those questions aloud until his mom gives him a puzzled look. “Do you think Hanbin likes her?”

Hao thinks about it hard. “I don’t think he does now… but what if he does in the future?” Panic grows in his chest, and he’s sure his mom can see it reflected in his eyes. “What if he abandons me, mom?”

She sighs, massaging her temples. “First of all, Zhang Hao, Hanbin is not yours.”  Hao disagrees. Hanbin is his and he is Hanbin’s, but he’s not telling that to his mom, she’s going to think he’s crazy. Crazier.  “Second, he’s allowed to speak to other people.”

Yes, Hao knows that. They have other friends, that’s already been established. It’s not his fault they choose to be together all the time.

“Third,” his mom continues, “Hanbin’s not going to abandon you. Where did you even get that from?” she sounds exasperated, looking at him like he’s stupid. Again. “Think of it this way… In the future, when you like someone, will you abandon Hanbin?”

Hao is puzzled. “Like?” he asks.

His mom doesn’t know how to breach this subject, it seems, as she grows a bit awkward. “Have you… ever liked someone?”

Hao answers immediately, “Yes, Hanbin.”

“You’re clueless, my son,” she groans. “Let me rephrase. Have you ever liked someone romantically?”

Romantically? Like that girl likes Hanbin?

“As if… to get married?”

“Yes, you could say that,” she agrees, nodding.

An unbidden thought crosses his mind— he'd like to marry Hanbin someday. He decides to ignore this, for his own well-being and hastily responds with a hesitant ‘no’.

He’s fully aware that his mom sees right through his lie.

“This isn’t getting anywhere… Listen, Hanbin’s not leaving you. Get that into that thick skull of yours,” she declares, punctuating her words with a light slap to his head.

He looks at her, feeling somewhat affronted. “You can’t know that.”

“I do, because I’m your mom and moms know everything.” She gets up then, clasping her hands. “Now, get up off that stinky bed of yours and go see Hanbin. This is an order.”

Hao thinks he gets where he got the emotionally constipated from.

________________________ 

His mom literally makes him leave home in pajamas, as if he hasn’t suffered enough embarrassment today. At least it’s dark outside.

As he reaches Hanbin’s house, he starts doubting himself. How does he tell everything to Hanbin without sounding like a crazy person, he wonders.

He’s been standing outside for quite a while now, summoning the courage to knock. Every time he’s on the verge of doing it, he chickens out. Just as he’s about to turn and leave, the door is yanked open, revealing Hanbin's serious face on the other side.

“Hao,” Hanbin says as a way of greeting.

He called him Hao. This is bad.

“Hanbinnie…” Hao whispers, looking everywhere except his friend’s face. He knows that even the slightest hint of anger in Hanbin’s eyes will make him cry.

“Are you coming in?”

He wants to say no, turn around and run back home, but he’s not a coward.

He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to meet Hanbin’s gaze. There’s no anger, Hao realizes, only a mixture of confusion and concern. Hao’s so relieved he could cry.

“Yeah, I am,” Hao finally manages to say, though his voice comes out quieter than intended.

Hanbin steps aside, allowing him to enter. The familiarity of his friend’s house offers a small comfort to Hao’s troubled heart, but his stomach is still in knots. He swaps his outdoor shoes for slippers and follows Hanbin to his room, silence heavy between them.

Sitting on the edge of Hanbin’s bed, Hao fidgets with his hands, struggling to find the right words.

“Hanbinnie.”

“Hyung.”

They speak at the same time.

It helps to break the tension a little bit. Hanbin giggles, ever so lovely, and Hao manages to summon a small smile. His friend sits beside him and starts rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Hao takes a deep breath, gathering courage. “I’ll go first, Hanbinnie,” he starts again, voice more resolute. “I’m sorry for today,” is all he manages to say before his mind goes blank.

Great.

Hanbin waits expectantly for Hao to continue, but he can’t. Tears well up in his eyes, a testament to the frustration he feels with himself and the situation.

Hanbin, always eager to reassure him, says, “We’re not in a hurry hyung. Take your time,” as he keeps caressing his back.

They’re not in a hurry, but Hao needs to get these words out of his chest before they choke him. “Today… I felt weird the entire day,” Hao begins. Hanbin hums, signaling that he’s listening. “It started with that girl sitting on my desk. When I saw her, I was so pissed. I swear I wanted to punch her.”

Hanbin laughs, incredulous. “I don’t think you’d be capable of hitting anyone, hyung.”

Hao agrees, but the sentiment was there. Here comes the hardest part. “Then I saw her hugging you and I just felt like I needed to run, so I did. I didn’t really understand what I was feeling until I spoke to my mom.”

Hanbin’s gaze is fixed on Hao’s face, studying his expression carefully, "Your mom?" he asks softly, encouraging Hao to continue.

He nods. “She helped me understand a little bit of what was going on. She said I was jealous, and she’s right, Hanbin. I was jealous of that girl.”

Hanbin’s brows furrow in confusion, “Why were you jealous of her hyung?”

This friend of his is kind of dumb sometimes, Hao thinks. “You do know she likes you, right?”

“Yes, she confessed today.”

A sinking feeling takes root in Hao’s stomach, panic spreading through him. He needs to breathe; he doesn’t even know what Hanbin’s answer was.  

“And what was your answer?” Hao questions, in the most normal voice he can muster. Which is not very normal. It’s actually very high pitched. The air is thinning. His head spins. This whole situation needs to be over now.

In the not-so-distant future he knows this moment will keep him up at night. But that’s for future him to worry about.

Hanbin chuckles a little bit. Hao feels offended, as he doesn’t think the suffering he’s been subjected to today is worth laughing about. “I don’t like her back, obviously.”

Oh… now he could chuckle all right. Hehe. “You don’t like her back?” he asks, because he really, really needs to hear it once more.

“No, I don’t,” Hanbin confirms, as if he were explaining how much is one plus one. Hao does feel a little dumb… “Were you jealous because you thought I liked her?”

Naturally. But he can’t tell that outright to Hanbin, or he’ll seem like a crazy person. He’s used the word crazy a lot today, but that’s the only fitting description. It’s not normal for friends to be jealous of their fiend’s potential partners, right?

“Kind of… I also thought if you liked her, you’d leave me,” he admits. It sounds kind of dumb when he says it out loud.

Hanbin laughs again, but this time it’s fond. His eyes are so pretty up close, Hao thinks, especially when he smiles like this.

“Silly hyung. I’d never leave you. I’d rather die than not be by your side,” and wow, those are some strong words for a 12-year-old. But they’ve always been very intense, so it’s nothing new.

Hao thinks he’d also rather die than not be by Hanbin’s side, as dramatic as that sounds.

Still, there’s one more thing he needs to confirm. “Do you forgive me, Hanbinnie?” he questions, a hint of anxiety lingering even though he knows what Hanbin's answer will be.

“Yes, hyung, but under one condition,” he replies, expression growing serious. “You need to talk to me. If you want to be alone, just say that, I’ll respect it, but please don’t ignore me. That hurts.”

Hao nods, voice temporarily failing him. He knows this probably won’t be the last time he hurts his friend, but he’ll try his hardest to be better for him.

Hanbin reaches out, interlacing their fingers, “I know it’s… a little bit harder for you than it is for me to say what’s on your mind. In the future, I’ll have lots of patience, hyung,” he promises with a warm smile.

Hao hugs him then, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Hanbin pats his back, comforting him. How ironic it is that the one he hurt is reassuring him instead of the other way around.

Hao will be thankful until his last day on this earth that God, the universe, fate, whoever it was, put Hanbin on his way.

________________________ 

 Cheonan, 2014

When Hao turns fourteen, Hanbin gives him something.

Today is his birthday, and just like every year since they met, Hanbin is standing at his door at eleven fifty-nine p.m. School and sleep be damned; on these nights, nothing matters. Their parents just let them be, as it is a twice in a year occurrence.

A knock on his door and Hao already knows who’s there. He’s taken aback by the sight that receives him once he opens his door.

Hanbin looks beautiful. His hair has been expertly styled; he doesn’t look like a coconut anymore, as he likes to fondly call it. A part of his forehead is exposed. Hao feels his fingers itch with the need to touch. He rarely sees Hanbin’s forehead, so he attributes the crazy reaction he’s having to that.

His forehead is not the only thing that takes his breath away. He’s wearing a nice cashmere sweater. It must be new, as Hao’s never seen him in it. The color harmonizes beautifully with his complexion.

And wow, his body is reacting really weirdly to Hanbin’s new outfit, tummy feeling all kinds of funny and heart beating so fast he’s sure Hanbin can hear it. Maybe this is what being fourteen is all about. His mom keeps mentioning hormones or whatever.

But that’s not the end of it. There’s another thing that takes his breath away, leaves him awestruck— Hanbin's eyes.

Hanbin has one of the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen. His lashes are long, longer than some of the girls in class. When he smiles, his eyes smile first. Hao always knows when he’s amused just by looking at them.

Tonight, they seemed to radiate a warmth that envelops Hao like a thick blanket. Upon his gaze, filled with adoration, Hao feels truly loved.

“Hyung?” Hanbin says, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

Hanbinnie looks so cute, Hao thinks, before breaking out of his stupor. He realizes he’s been staring at his friend like a complete fool for at least two minutes. What’s gotten into him tonight…

Heat rushes to Hao’s cheeks. “Hanbinnie, sorry. Just got a bit distracted,” he stammers, wiping his suddenly clammy palms on his pants. He never gets clammy palms. Weird. Maybe his mom is right, this whole hormones thing making him act out of the ordinary. “Come in.”

Hanbin does, placing the array of gifts he brings on the coffee table. He exchanges his outdoor shoes for his beloved hamster slippers, the same ones he’s worn since he was nine. The fit is a bit snug nowadays. Hao needs to ask his mom to get him new ones.

“Let’s sit, hyung,” Hanbin says, taking him by the hand and leading him to the sofa.

He doesn’t let go of his hand as he reaches for the first present. Flowers.

Hanbin’s gifted him flowers on every single birthday they’ve shared together. Sunflowers when Hao turned eleven, gardenias at twelve, peonies last year, and this year, tulips.

It’s beautiful and very thoughtful, since lately Hao has been very fascinated with tulips. Hanbin is well aware of this, as he’s been showing him pictures of those tulip fields in the Netherlands. Hanbin even promised him that one day they would visit those fields together.

“Do you like them, Hao Hyung?” Hanbin asks, hint of nervousness coating his voice.

Hao doesn’t know what his lovely friend is nervous about. Truth to be told, he could gift Hao a damn rock and he would love it, treat it like a treasure. Anything touched by Hanbin turns into treasure, if Hao’s being honest.

“I love it, Hanbinnie, I’ve never actually seen tulips in person before. They’re beautiful.”

Hanbin smiles, cheeks turning a lovely shade of red. “I’m glad, hyung,” he says, taking the bouquet from Hao’s hands and placing it on the coffee table again.

“Next present.” Hanbin retrieves a small rectangular box with his free hand. “Do you remember the first word you taught me in Chinese, hyung?”

Hao nods, “Yes, it was dolphin.”

Hanbin smiles, and it holds a touch of nostalgia. “We went to the aquarium that day for my birthday."

Hao remembers. He remembers everything about that day, that week, if he’s being honest.

It goes like this:

They’re hanging out in Hanbin’s room a few days before his birthday, chatting about anything and everything. It’s funny, Hao thinks, how they always want to know more about each other. He wonders if someday, there’ll be nothing left to tell. He hopes not.

Hanbin’s talking about his pet fish, a tiny thing named Potato, when he asks Hao about his favorite marine animal. Hao doesn’t really have an answer as he’s never really seen one in real life — besides Hanbin’s fish, that is.

“You’ve never been to the aquarium?” Hanbin asks in disbelief as Hao nods ‘no’ as an answer. His expression is so comical, Hao thinks, eyes all open and mouth forming an ‘O’. “Well, that needs to be fixed right now.”

Hao can’t help but chuckle at Habin’s determination. “I guess it does”, he says, fondness clear in his voice.

So, Hanbin, always eager to keep his promises, asks his mom for a visit to the aquarium as his birthday present. Naturally, she says yes as it’s not an everyday occurrence. Hanbin asking for things, that is.

When the day comes, Hao feels a bit nervous. Hanbin’s been talking non-stop the entire week about how much he’s going to love the aquarium, how the animals there are so cute, and how much fun they’re going to have.

The place is huge, leaving Hao in awe as they stand in front of the entrance.  He looks to the side, and Hanbin’s already looking at him, grin so big his whiskers are showing. He seems even more excited than Hao, eager to show him everywhere. Hanbin’s always the happiest when he’s making other people happy, Hao realizes.

As they step inside, Hao feels transported to another universe. Hanbin’s warm hand clasped in his, the soft lightning of the place, the soothing sound of the water. It’s incredibly beautiful, and Hao says just as much. “It’s really pretty here, Hanbinnie.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Hanbin murmurs with a small smile. “Let’s go Hyung, I want to show you the dolphins.”

Hao has no idea what that word means, just lets Hanbin take him wherever he wants. Soon enough they find themselves in front of an enormous tank, housing dolphins. They’re so big, and so, so beautiful. Hao can’t believe something like this exists in real life. Nature is amazing.

“Dolphin” he says, placing his free hand softly over the blue glass.

Hao doesn’t realize he’s said it in Chinese, too entranced in the beauty of it all, until Hanbin repeats after him, syllables heavy on his tongue. “Dol…phin.” His cheeks are a lovely rosy shade as Hao turns to him, surprised. He’s looking at Hao with big, shiny eyes, almost blue from the glass reflection. 

Hao chuckles. It feels like his heart is about to burst from affection. "Yes, Hanbinnie, dolphin.”

He’s brought back to the present by Hanbin’s soft voice calling his name. “Hao hyung?”

Hao really looks at him, studying his features. Hanbin looks so different compared to that memory, yet the essence of him remains the same. His heart, still gentle and brimming with love. What other kid would have done what Hanbin did back then? He could have chosen anything as a gift, yet he preferred to do something for Hao.

He knows that word now. Selfless. That’s who Hanbin is.

“Sorry, I was just remembering that day,” Hao says. “You know I had lots of fun, right?”

Hanbin nods, eyes amused. “Yes hyung, you repeated it every day for like a month.”

Heh, that he did. Hao chuckles softly. “I just wanted to make sure you knew it.”

“I know, hyung.” Taking Hao’s hand, Hanbin places a tiny velvet box on his palm. Right, the present. “Open it.” Inside, there’s a necklace. Its pendant is dolphin-shaped, silver with turquoise details. Dolphin. He feels like crying.

Of course, Hanbin would do something like this, give him something with so much meaning, a reminder of the happy memories they've shared together. 'It's beautiful,' Hao murmurs.

His throat tightens with the intensity of his current emotions. There's so much he wants to say, but he can't. Voicing his feelings has always been a challenge. Instead, he resorts to the next best thing: action.

He plants a soft, lingering kiss on Hanbin's cheek and then embraces him tightly, their cheeks squishing together. His face burns, and he feels overwhelmed with embarrassment for what he just did, but it doesn't matter. He wanted to do it.

With a soft sigh, Hao whispers, “You really are something, Hanbinnie,” feeling Hanbin’s arms tighten around him in response.

Right now, it’s just the two of them. Hao and Hanbin, as it’s been for a long time.

Hao wants it to stay like this forever.

________________________

Cheonan, 2015

When Hao is fifteen, he discovers how cruel the world can be.

He supposes he’s always been shielded from it, by his mom, by his friends, by Hanbin. But today, Hanbin isn’t here to help him, to console him while he cries his eyes out, locked in a bathroom stall at school.

This morning his trek to school is lonely. It’s the first time in five years Hanbin isn’t by his side. His hand feels cold. His heart feels heavy. He’s jittery, nervous.

Hanbin’s caught a cold, something that’s never happened before. He, stubbornly, still wants to go to school, but his mom and Hao literally tuck him back to bed and instruct him to stay there, unmoving, the entire day.

Hao seriously considers not going to school either, contemplating returning home or maybe sneaking into Hanbin’s room through the window and staying with him. But he can’t. He needs to learn to handle life on his own, as well.

Which means he is now alone at school. It feels kind of pathetic, to be honest. Most of his friends are younger guys he met thanks to Hanbin, and he’s not in the mood to leave his classroom and start a quest to find them.

During recess, he’s doodling a little hamster on his notepad when one of his classmates approaches him. He has the gag to sit next to him, where Hanbin is supposed to be.

Hao’s never really spoken to him before. They have nothing in common. This guy, he likes to pick on others, to make them feel like trash, so Hao would never willingly talk to him.

He doesn’t want to do it now either, but the dude is staring at him with a very unsettling expression.

Hao scolds his face in the most blank expression he can muster and asks his classmate, “Is there anything you need?”

“Where 's Hanbin?”

“Not here, as you can see,” Hao replies. He realizes then he should have been more mindful of his words and tone, as his classmate’s face begins to turn red, eyes filling with rage.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, you fucking faggot?”

Hao is… astounded, to say the least. He knows what that word means. He’s heard it being uttered to other boys at school, but never expected that one day it would be directed at him. He feels nauseous, wants to run, but he can’t. He must remain calm, at least for now.

“Is that all I can do for you?” Hao asks. His voice doesn’t waver, his expression doesn’t change, and this seems to infuriate his classmate even more.

“Maybe you can suck my dick, I bet you’re good at it,” he says with a cruel and heartless laugh. “You know Hanbin’s gonna get tired of you and he’s gonna leave you, right? Always stuck by his side like a fucking cockroach. What are you gonna do then, you weak thing?”

Hao’s not going to give this dude the satisfaction of seeing him crumble, of seeing how much his words have affected him. That’s what he wants. So, he just stares at him, blank and unmoving. His hands are shaking though, bile rising in his throat and heart beating so fast he’s sure he’s about to die at any second.

“Is that all I can do for you?” he asks again, masking the inner turmoil that threatens to consume him.

“Whatever,” his classmate replies, standing up and leaving, seemingly disappointed he couldn’t make Hao mad. Or cry.

He just leaves. As if he didn’t just flip Hao’s world upside down.

________________________

Class is over.

His classmate doesn’t approach him again after their first encounter. Hao is thankful for that small mercy. He wouldn’t have been able to keep his composure again.

He needs to get home, fast. But as soon as the bell rings his eyes start to water, not being able to keep it in anymore. He tries to leave his classroom as quietly as possible, but no one pays attention to him. Not if he isn’t with Hanbin, he’s noticed today. He’s thankful for it.

Hao finds shelter on a secluded bathroom stall, where he locks himself and tries to cry as quietly as possible. He tries to think, tries to figure out which words said by that evil guy were the ones that hurt him the most.  But as much as he tries, he can’t. His mind is a mess.

After a while, he manages to calm down, just a little bit. Just as he’s considering leaving the stall, a voice calls his name, “Hao hyung? Are you here?”

It’s Taerae.

Right… he was supposed to walk to the station with Taerae and Matthew today.

Hao doesn’t want to anymore, doesn’t want his younger friends to see him like this, staying as quiet as possible so he goes unnoticed. But no one can fool Taerae.

“I can see your backpack, hyung. Your hamster keychain has almost escaped,” and damn he’s right. His hamster keychain is on the floor, visible from the outside. It was a gift from Hanbin. Hao gave him a panda one so they could match.

Hanbin. He shouldn’t think about Hanbin, or tears will come again, and that can’t happen as he has to see Taerae now that he knows he’s here.

He slowly opens the stall door, keeping his eyes rooted to the floor so the puffiness in them and his red face go unnoticed. But, as he said, no one ever has a chance of fooling Taerae. Somehow, he always knows everything.

As soon as he sees a small glimpse of Hao, he grabs him by the arm, face contorting with worry. “What happened?”

Taerae is a nice guy, Hao thinks right then. He’s one of the few people Hao actually considers his friend, and the fact that he made this friend on his own makes him even more special.

They met almost two years ago, when Hao decided to go back to playing violin and joined the school’s music club. Taerae is a singer there.

They’re alike, in some senses, so Taerae has always understood him very well, has always given him very good advice, never afraid to speak his mind, to say what Hao needs but might not want to hear.

Maybe… maybe he can be honest with him. Taerae would understand.

“Can we leave first?”

Taerae nods, taking Hao by the arm and leading him outside. “Yes hyung, anything you need.”

Matthew is waiting for them. As soon as he sees Hao, his eyes widen so much Hao would laugh. He’s not in the mood right now, though.

Hao knows he’s about to ask what’s wrong, can see the question forming on his lips, but Taerae shoots him a look that clearly says ‘shut up’, so Matthew remains silent.

Hao met Matthew through Hanbin; both of them are part of the school’s dance club. He’s a genuinely nice guy, always radiating happiness everywhere he goes. Hao considers him his friend as well, so he can trust him with this, he decides.

They go to Taerae’s house, the closest one to school. No one is there when they arrive, as Taerae’s parents are at work and his older sister at university.

The three of them sit on the floor in Taerae’s bedroom. Hao’s never been here before, but it’s nice, the walls reflecting his friend’s personality. It’s full of music posters, a guitar, and also some gaming stuff Hao doesn’t really know anything about.

His friends are expecting him to start talking, Hao knows, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He feels nervous, not knowing how they’ll react. “Whenever you’re ready, hyung, don’t rush.” Matthew says, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don’t think too much; it’s just us.”

He’s right. They’re his friends. It doesn’t have to be hard to talk to them.

With this thought in mind, he tells them everything.

He doesn’t cry as he thought he would. It doesn’t feel as bad as it did a few hours ago either. As he talks to his friends, he rationalizes that it wasn’t the slur that really hurt him; it was what his classmate said about Hanbin leaving him. He feels much better after letting it all out.

Both of them are quiet for a few seconds after he finishes. Taerae is the first one to break the silence.

“That guy is a scumbag. He’s always picking on everyone. I know what he said hurt you hyung, but you shouldn’t listen to him. You shouldn’t listen to people you don’t care about.”

Hao knows he’s right, but there’s still something on his mind. “What if… what if he’s right? What if I’m actually gay? He must have said it because he saw something in me that made him think that way, right?”

“Why does it matter?” Taerae asks.

It matters a lot, Hao thinks. He knows most people aren’t accepting of it. He sees it every day at school, where people bully guys just for being slightly more feminine, for not being interested in the things they ‘should be’ interested in. He even was a victim of it today. “Wouldn’t it matter to you guys if I was?”

“No,” they both reply in unison.

Hao studies their faces to see if they’re being honest. They are, he concludes. He can’t see a single thing that could make him think otherwise. Frankly, he feels relieved. Yet... “What if… what if it matters to Hanbin?”

Matthew furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “In a positive or negative way hyung?”

“Negative,” Hao replies, feeling nauseous at the thought of that happening.

Both Taerae and Matthew share a look. They seem to be silently communicating, but Hao can’t decipher the message. Moments later, Matthew asks, “Do you… think he would?”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you really not know?” It’s Taerae the one who questions him this time.

Hao does know. He knows there is a ninety-nine percent probability that Hanbin would still love him and see him as his friend, even if he happened to be gay. Still, that one percent feels huge. In his mind, right now, the bad outcome is more likely to occur than the good.

He stays silent, as he knows he’s being irrational, and his friends will point it out.

“Do you think you are gay hyung?” Tarae continues.

Hao thinks about it, really thinks about it for a few minutes, but can’t come up with a definite answer. “I don’t know… I’ve never really thought about it,” he replies, with honesty.

“Well, if you are or aren’t, it’s not something you should worry about right now hyung. There’s plenty of time left,” Taerae says as he gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Please don’t stress too much about it.”

Mathew is nodding enthusiastically, giving both of his friends a bright smile. “Today was hard hyung,” he interjects, scooting closer to Hao and taking both his hands on his own. “I’m thankful you told us. Please if anything bad happens you have to know we can help you too.”

Hao nods. It feels nice, knowing he can count on more people. “And if Hanbin hyung is not at school, you can come spend time with us,” Matthew continues. “We really like spending time with you hyung. You’re really funny and smart and talented and most importantly you are our friend, so don’t think you’re alone or something like that.”

Hao almost cries at his friend’s words. It feels nice to know people like him for who he is.

“I agree with what he said,” Taerae says, in the flattest tone ever, which makes the three of them burst into laughter. Hao’s eyes fill with tears, but these are happy tears.

This is nice, Hao thinks. It’s nice how a very bad situation turned into something rather pleasant, soothing for his troubled heart.

And his friends are right. What he is, or is not, it’s not really important right now. He has all the time in the world to figure it out.

________________________

Well. Easier said than done.

Hao couldn’t sleep the entire night, his mind a whirlwind of racing thoughts. He tossed and punched his pillow, gulped down a glass of warm milk, took a hot shower, cried his heart out, yet nothing worked.

In his sleep-deprived haze, he’s convinced Hanbin hates him.

So, needless to say, he feels like death this morning. And he’s sure he looks like death as well.

Habin notices immediately, of course he does. All he has to do is take a peek at Hao’s posture, and he already knows something is wrong. There’s not a soul on this planet who knows him better than Hanbin, not Hao even himself, truth to be told.

Maybe Hanbin’s already figured out that he’s gay, while Hao doesn’t even know it. Doesn’t even want to think about it. Or maybe Hanbin doesn’t even like him, maybe he’s stayed with Hao during all this time out of pity or a misplaced sense of responsibility.

He knows he’s being unfair, knows Hanbin’s not that kind of person, knows that his thoughts are wrong and unjustified. But he can’t help it. Yesterday’s episode plus not being able to sleep have messed up his capacity to think critically.

Hanbin, the angel that he is, doesn’t comment on Hao’s state. It seems like he just gets the ‘I don’t want to talk’ vibes Hao’s surely radiating in waves. So, he just takes his hand, interlaces their fingers, and leads the way to the train station.

The journey there is accompanied by Hanbin's words, a constant stream of chatter effortlessly occupying the silence. Hao, the bad friend that he is, doesn't even ask Hanbin how he's feeling, if he's healed from yesterday's cold. He sounds and looks much better, though.

The train, as always, is packed to the brim, bodies coming in and out without a care in the world.

Hao feels suffocated, and it must show on his face, given the immediate worry etched across Hanbin’s features.

“Hyung, let’s go to the corner,” he suggests.

Hao merely nods and follows him there. Truth is, he would follow him anywhere. And isn’t that thought worrying? How can he trust someone so much, so blindly? What if one day Hanbin’s not there by his side, like his classmate said? What is he going to do then?

Once they reach a more secluded spot, Hanbin positions himself in a way that shields Hao from the rest of the world, a physical barrier between him and the chaos.

Right now, Hanbin’s a little bit taller than him and also broader. It always changes, over the course of time, but in this moment, it works in Hao’s favor, giving him a cocoon-like sense of security.

Hao rests his forehead against his friend’s shoulder, while Hanbin’s fingers weave through his scalp, alternating between a light caress and a comforting scratch. At Hanbin’s touch, Hao feels like he can finally breathe, after almost twenty-four hours of not being able to do so. 

He’s so overwhelmingly relieved he starts crying. He doesn’t mean to, but now that it’s started, he can’t stop it. Which is mortifying, considering they’re still on the train. Hanbin notices immediately and drags them down the wagon on the next station. 

He leads them to the nearest park, a tiny thing located by a tall building, and sits Hao on a small bench that barely fits two very tall teenagers. There’s no one around, everyone on their way to work or school.

Hao inhales deeply, tears streaming down his cheeks. He needs to collect himself, to regain control over his emotions, but for some reason he can’t.

“Hao hyung, what’s wrong?” Hanbin asks, voice overflowing with concern as he cups Hao’s face with both his hands, his own eyes reflecting hurt.

And oh, Hao hates to see him like this. Hates himself, as he’s the one who’s caused Hanbin to feel this way. He’s hurt him, once again.

“It’s ok Hanbinnie,” Hao attempts to reassure him, but his voice breaks mid-sentence, betraying him. “Please don’t worry, nothing is wrong.” He tries to avert his gaze, shield his tear-stained face from the other boy, but Hanbin’s gentle hands keep him in place.

That was the wrong choice of words, it seems, as Habin says, “Stop lying to me,” voice stern but gentle. “I don’t think I deserve to be lied to, hyung.” His words feel like a slap.

Right at this moment, Hao comprehends the true meaning of having a broken heart. He feels it physically, a pain on his chest more intense than anything he’s experienced before. So he just keeps crying.

Hanbin just holds him tightly, guiding Hao’s head to the crook of his neck while whispering soothing words into his ear. They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, Hao sobbing his heart out into his friend’s arms.

Gradually, Hao pulls away from the embrace. He tries to dry his tears with the back of his hand, but Hanbin gently pries it away, replacing it with a soft tissue. He even dries his snot, which is honestly, kind of gross.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now hyung?” Hanbin asks, with as much gentleness as someone who’s handling the most fragile of treasures.

“Are you sick of me Hanbin?” Hao blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind, not daring to meet Hanbin’s gaze.

“What?” he replies, clearly in disbelief. This is clearly not what Hanbin was expecting at all, Hao notices.

He takes a deep breath. He’s already started, so he might as well finish. “Since we were kids… you’ve always been stuck with me. What if you want to hang out with other people and I’m getting in the way? Everyone loves you.”

Once again, cups Hao’s face in his hands, connecting their eyes. “I don’t care about other people. I only care about you,” he declares with fervor. Hao’s heart speeds up. “I’ve never been stuck with you. I choose to be with you. You know it’s different, right?”

Before he can fully process Hanbin’s words to form an appropriate answer, his friend’s expression shifts to one of sadness, causing Hao’s stomach to drop. “Did I… did I do something to make you feel that way hyung?” Hanbin asks, voice small, uncertain.

“No, no, no,” Hao replies, shaking his head frantically, eyes filling with tears once again. He needs to shut up before he makes everything even worse. Or perhaps… he needs to do the opposite.

Hanbin inhales sharply, breath ragged. “Hyung, I know you don’t mean it, but your words are hurting me. Please explain yourself.”

And there it is. His heart is breaking again. He doesn’t think it’s physically possible, but he sure as hell feels it.

Hanbin has always put up with him, with his habit of hiding his thoughts, and concealing them with excuses. He’s never deserved it. Hanbin’s always been an open book with him, allowing Hao to see his heart as it truly is.

He has to be honest. But… there are some things he can’t say to Hanbin, not yet. So, a half-truth will have to suffice.

Hao prepares himself for what’s about to come, taking a deep breath to steady his racing heart. It’s now or never.

“Someone at school said some ugly things to me yesterday,” he begins, but Hanbin interrupts him almost instantly. 

“Who,” Hanbin demands, eyes overflowing with an emotion Hao’s never seen in him — rage, he realizes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hao replies. “Let me speak, please.”

“Yes hyung, sorry.”

“Someone said some ugly things to me yesterday,” Hao starts over. “Among those ugly things they said that… that I was a cockroach always stuck by your side and that you’d get eventually tired of me and leave.” Hao rushes through the words, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible. He has no desire to say it ever again.

Hanbin’s about to interrupt him, Hao can practically see him vibrating with the urge to do so, but before he can Hao places his index finger gently against his lips, silencing him.

“And before you say anything, I know that’s not the kind of person you are, Hanbin. I know it. Please believe me when I say it.”

He puts every ounce of conviction left inside him into his words. He desperately wants, needs, Hanbin to believe him, because it’s the absolute truth. The problem isn’t him, it’s Hao’s head.

Meeting Hanbin’s eyes, Hao searches for any trace of doubt, but he finds none. Just love and understanding. His friend nods, a sign that yes, he believes in his words. Relief washes over him, granting him the courage to continue.

“Still, what he said made me feel really awful, and I couldn’t sleep at all last night because I couldn’t stop thinking, what if he’s right?” And here comes the hardest part, “What if someday… I do something that you don’t like and you leave me?”

Hanbin doesn’t seem to understand him, as his expression turns confused, bewildered.  “Something that I don’t like? What do you mean by that hyung?”

This is the part that Hao isn’t ready to be completely honest about. How can he say it without actually saying it, the reason why Hanbin would leave him, he wonders.

He gets an idea.

“Like for example, what if everyone likes blue, and you like blue too, but I happen to like pink, but people don’t like it that I like pink. What would you do then? Would you still be my friend?”

Hao can admit it’s not the best analogy, and Hanbin seems to think the same, if his face is anything to go by. “What the hell are you talking about?” And wow, he must be really baffled, as Hao’s never heard him say a bad word before.

But he can’t really find a better way to explain this, so he persists. “Just think about it please,” Hao pleads, giving Hanbin the puppy eyes he knows his friend can’t resist. He must look really comical though, face red and eyes puffy, but it works. Hanbin remains silent for a little while, actually thinking about it.

Eventually, he reaches a conclusion, as he says. “Hyung, you could rob a bank and I’d still be by your side. I think I’d rob the bank with you, to be honest.” He’s serious. This is crazy.

“Hanbin.”

“I’m serious hyung! I swear. Pinky promise,” his friend replies, extending his pinky towards Hao.

The simple gesture transports Hao back in time to when they first met, a memory that hasn’t been tarnished by the passage of time. Back then, it had been his first pinky promise ever, and this is his second. The first had never been broken, so there’s no doubt in his mind that one will have the same outcome.

Hao interlaces their pinkies, feeling a bit bashful under Hanbin’s gaze. His eyes appear so tender, a shade of brown so deep, looking at him with so much adoration. A blush dusts the tips of Hao’s ears, creeping down his neck.

“Hyung, I hope you believe me. There’s nothing you could do that would make me not want to be with you. Unless it’s a really serious crime… but I don’t think you’d commit a really serious crime…” Hanbin’s voice softens, a gentle chuckle threading through his words, lightening the atmosphere.

A soft giggle escapes Hao at Hanbin’s words. Yet, his treacherous brain needs one last assurance. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes,” his friend replies firmly. “If you have any doubts about anything, please come to me right away hyung. I don’t want you losing sleep or feeling bad over something that can be fixed. And please don’t listen to other people, just listen to me,” Hao nods. “No one else knows me more than you do hyung, please keep that in mind.”

He’s right, Hao thinks. He could even say that he knows Hanbin better than he knows himself. If Hao tried hard enough, he thinks he could even read Hanbin’s mind. It’s mutual, he knows it.

Their eyes meet again, a small smile tugging at the corners of Hanbin’s lips. “Hey hyung,” he starts, a mischievous glint in his eye, “How about we skip class and go eat ice cream for breakfast?”

Hao chuckles, warmth radiating from his chest. His Hanbinnie, always finding ways to make him happy. “I say it’s an excellent idea.”

They’ll probably get an earful from their parents when they find out they skipped school. But it doesn’t matter. Right in this moment nothing really matters. It’s just him and Hanbin, running through the streets hand in hand.

He has time to figure things out.

________________________

Cheonan, 2016 

When Hao is sixteen, he realizes he’s gay.

But rather than realization, a sudden epiphany, it’s more like gradual acceptance. He just… slowly comes to terms with it.

It’s not something that plagues his every thought, it’s not something that brings him anguish, it’s not something that keeps him up at night, and for that, he’s very grateful.

On this self-discovery journey he’s embarked on, he can acknowledge how different his experience has been compared to the rest. He’s read countless stories of people from all over the world going through the same as him. For most of them, the realization was something life-altering, anxiety-inducing.

He tries to think why it isn’t the same for him, why he feels so calm about this. He understands the context he lives in, he knows that here, gay people are mostly excluded, aren’t accepted by the majority of society; he experienced it firsthand not long ago.

But amidst it all, he’s learned a vital lesson: he has time. That has been at the forefront of his mind ever since his conversation with Matthew and Taerae a few months ago. He must be patient, as he knows that eventually, everything will click into place. There’s no rush to label himself, to define every aspect of who he is.

That doesn’t mean he can slack off, be complacent; doesn’t mean he can leave everything up to destiny or fate or whatever. Patience doesn’t equate to passivity. He knows that if he wants something, he must work for it. Maybe someday, he’ll be able to express himself freely. He knows that if he wanted to do so now, if he put his mind into it, he could do it, but he’s not completely ready yet.

Not everything has been easy though. For quite some time, as he’s trying to figure himself out, he feels like a fraud. Why is that, you might wonder? Well, it’s all thanks to the encounter he had with his classmate last year. It played with his mind, planting seeds of doubt about the authenticity of his feelings.

He thought his feelings might not be genuine, that this idea was installed in his head by someone else. Because, if he’s being honest, he only started questioning himself after the situation.

But, with time and a bit of a mental breakdown, he realizes how dumb and baseless that idea is. He’s never liked any girls, ever. He’s only ever been interested in one person. But he’ll not name him, as he’s not ready to open that can of worms just yet.

________________________ 

It’s a warm august afternoon, exactly one month after his birthday, when he’s finally able to say it out loud. His mind knows what he is, who he is, as does his heart. Yet, he still hasn’t found the courage to just say it.

Hao’s sitting outside, light reading forgotten on his lap, while the sun warms up his ever-cold insides. His fingers fidget with the pages. Today, he’ll do it. It’s time. He’s ready.

He needs to see himself, so he heads to the bathroom to stand in front of the mirror. It’s nerve-wracking, this situation, but it’s now or never.

Taking a deep breath he says, “I’m gay,” to no one, to everyone, to himself, to whoever is listening. And it feels good, so good. Like weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He could cry out of happiness.

He makes the decision right then. He’ll tell his mom next, as soon as she arrives.

Hao doesn’t know how she’ll react, but he has a suspicion that she already knows, has known all along. Growing up, she said some things to him didn’t make much sense back then, but they do now. Still, that doesn’t mean he feels any less nervous about the conversation they’re about to have.

He plans his speech, thinks thoroughly about the best way to tell her, the best words to use. Yet, nothing can prepare him for the actual moment.

Time goes by so slowly while sitting on the sofa, eagerly waiting for his mom to arrive. He must do it today, or else he knows he’ll chicken out. When he hears the door opening, he almost jumps out of his seat, startled.

His mom is surprised to see him here, since he’s always in his room or with Hanbin. She seems to look for his friend, his usual companion, and when she can’t see him anywhere, she asks, “No Hanbin today? That’s surprising.”

Well, he promised to stop by after dance practice, and he did. Hanbin always keeps his promises. But Hao sent him home with a kiss on his cheek and a sandwich, so he could recover a little bit after so much exercising.

Hanbin is confused, so Hao explains to him that he needs to talk about something serious with his mom. “You’ll tell me?” his friend asks. Hao says yes, even though it is a lie. He will not tell Hanbin, not yet. He needs some time to figure out something else first.

Back to the present, instead of answering her question, Hao says, “Mom, can we talk for a little bit?”

She raises an eyebrow in an unspoken question. “Oh, this is even more surprising,” she replies as she takes off her shoes and joins him on the couch.

Hao knows why she’s saying that. He’s not much of a talker. In fact, he believes this might be the first time he’s asked her to talk about something. Maybe it’s time for him to start being more open with her. She’s always been there for him, in her own way, that’s for sure, but she’s been there nonetheless. His mom is someone who’s been deeply hurt, someone who left everything behind to give him a better, happier life, and for that, he’ll always be thankful.

He doesn’t know how to start this conversation. Should he say some introductory words or what? There’s no etiquette for this, no manual. The speech he had prepared is long forgotten, nervousness taking over.

Inhale, exhale. Calm down. Out with it. “I’m gay.”

For a few seconds she’s silent, simply staring at him. Then, she lets out a chuckle, genuine, happy and warm. “Damn son… took you long enough.”

Hao blinks in surprise, “Excuse me?” he asks. That was surprisingly easy. He was expecting at least some tears, some denial, some type of drama, but not a chuckle.

She catches his hands in hers, giving him an understanding smile. “I’m your mother. I’ve always known. I was just waiting for you to realize.”

Ah, so his earlier assumption was correct. He has a faint memory of being younger, his mom telling him she’d be here with him regardless of anything. It must have been about this. Still, he needs verbal confirmation of her acceptance. “You’re… fine with it?”

“Of course. You’re my son, my only son and I love you. My love for you is unconditional. Whoever you love, whatever you are. As long as you are a good person, I’ll always be proud of you. That’s all that matters to me.”

His eyes water at her words. It’s nice to feel supported. It was the right choice, to tell his mom.  

“Besides, you and Han-”

He interrupts her before she says something he’s definitely not ready to hear yet. “Don’t say anything about Hanbin, please.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, a mix of surprise and amusement in her eyes. “Oh, so you don’t know yet? Or you aren’t ready to accept it?”

“Mom,” Hao whines.

“Ok, I’ll shut my mouth,” she lifts both her hands, palms facing outwards, in a universal gesture of surrender. “But I’m ok with it too, I hope you know it. And if you want to talk about it, I’m here. Just don’t keep things in here for too long,” she says, pointing at his chest, “or they might rot.”

________________________

As the days go by, the itch to tell someone else continues to grow. He’s tried to think of an explanation for this, as to why his mom wasn’t enough, but he can’t find any. He just wants to do it.

It has to be one of his friends. Hanbin is ruled out, and Matthew is too. He’s too close to Hanbin, and that makes things a little bit complicated.

Taerae it is then. He knows Taerae will understand, will advise him well, as he did back then.

After class, he tells Hanbin to go home instead of waiting for him to finish the music club meeting as he always does, since he needs to discuss something with Taerae.

The confused puppy eyes and pouty lips Hanbin gives him almost makes him reconsider his decision, tell him that no, he doesn’t need to leave, he can wait for him and they can spend the afternoon together. Almost.

Hao knows he’s been doing things out of the ordinary lately, and he knows Hanbin’s noticed. He also gets the feeling that his friend has sensed that something significant is happening in his life right now, yet he hasn’t asked anything about it, and for that he’s thankful. He needs some time to sort out certain matters before he even thinks about telling him.

They go get some ice cream once they’re done with the club and find a secluded bench under a big three to sit on. Summer is soon coming to an end, yet the heat is still as strong. The ice cream provides some relief, but he still feels the school shirt cling to his back from sweat.

Both boys sit in silence for a while, just enjoying their treat and the soft caress of the wind on their skin. Eventually, Taerae breaks the silence, “What did you want to talk about, hyung?”

Hao doesn’t feel nervous. He knows Taerae will be okay with it, just as he said many, many weeks ago, that fated afternoon they spent alongside Matthew in his room.

Hao clears his throat before speaking, as the cold ice cream made it feel a bit tight. “I’m gay.” He observes Taerae’s face attentively, searching for any sign of emotion. But nothing changes, he just nods. Hao feels… unnerved. He doesn’t know what this no-reaction could possibly mean. “What are your thoughts on this?” he asks, hoping for some insight.

“No thoughts, really.”

He feels a bit offended here, as he was actually hoping for something different. “What do you mean no thoughts,” Hao deadpans. It seems like Taerae can sense Hao’s indignation, and well, he’s not doing much to hide them.

Taerae raises his palms in a gesture of surrender. “Wait, don’t be offended, hyung. Sorry, I just don’t really know the proper etiquette for gay stuff.”

The way he says this last sentence is so funny, so earnestly serious Hao would never imagine he’s talking to a fourteen-year-old teenager if he didn’t personally know Taerae. He can’t help but let out a big, hearty chuckle. Taerae laughs too, dissipating the tension.

Amidst the laughter’s fading echo, Taerae continues, “I’m very grateful that you trust me enough to tell me. Let’s get that out of the way. I can tell you haven’t told anyone else, so I’m honored to be the first.”

That, in Hao’s head, feels like an accusation, so he’s quick to defend himself. “I told my mom, though.”

“I meant your friends. Anyway, not important. What I’m trying to say here is that it’s not surprising, at least for me.”

Hao’s brows furrow. Wait… what is he implying… “You mean to tell me I look gay or something?” Hao asks, crossing his arms and pouting, his signature sulking pose.

Taerae erupts in laughter, the one that shows the majority of his teeth. Hao’s a bit mad, so in his mind it sounds like a bark. From a very annoying dog. “No hyung, that’s not what I meant to tell you.”

“Then…”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you remember what happened last year.” Of course, Hao remembers it. It was kind of the catalyst of all this, if he’s being honest. “That plus the lovestruck expression you have whenever you look at Ha-”

Hao cuts him off before Taerae can go any further. He doesn’t want to hear it. Hearing it will make it real. “Ah- don’t say his name. Let’s not go there just yet.”

Taerae blinks in surprise, “Oh, so you haven’t admitted that to yourself yet.” Hao doesn’t dignify with an answer, so Taerae continues. “Whatever. None of my business. As I was saying. I kind of thought you could be gay.” Taerae is probably the most logical thinker out of all of his friends, so it’s in character for him to have reached that conclusion with the facts that he knew. “Also, I’m gay too. So, I guess that helps me recognize you. We’re kin, you know.”

The first thing Hao processes is the end of the sentence, which is why he initially asks, “We’re what?!” only to realize after a few moments what Taerae reveals first. “Wait… you’re what?!”

“Gay. You’re the first person who knows.”

For a brief moment Hao thinks Taerae must be joking. After all, what are the odds? But he's not that type of person. He wouldn’t joke about something like this. Besides, he looks pretty damn serious.

“Congratulations?” it’s the first thing that comes out of Hao’s mouth, which is embarrassing, to say the least. But his brain is malfunctioning.

Taerae arches a single eyebrow, “For joining the oppressed minority?” he asks. At Hao’s horrified expression, he cracks a smile. “I’m kidding hyung.”

It’s kind of funny, the situation he finds himself in, the situation they both find themselves in. With this though in mind he laughs, and once he starts, he can’t stop. It’s contagious, as Taerae joins him almost immediately.

“Thank you for trusting me, Taerae,” Hao mentions after the laughter subsides.

Taerae nods, as if to say ‘you’re welcome’, but then his expression grows a tad more contemplative. “Will you tell Hanbin hyung?”

Hao knew this question was inevitable, could see it coming from miles away. Truth is, he wants to tell him. But it’s not the time. “Not yet,” he answers.

“Someday?”

Hao nods in agreement. “Soon. I just need to figure out something else first.”

“Well, good luck being gay, hyung,” Taerae says, extending his hand in a gesture of camaraderie.

Hao mirrors the action, meeting his friend’s hand with an amused huff. “Good luck being gay too, Taerae.”

________________________ 

After his conversation with Taerae, Hao decides to head over to Hanbin’s house, since it’s still early and he feels like spending time with him. Lately, he’s been doing a lot of things just because he wants to. It’s a welcome change from his old habits.

Hanbin’s mom receives him with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, delighted to see him. Unfortunately, she tells him, Hanbin is not home. He just left, headed to the dance studio.

Hao thanks her, hugs her goodbye and decides he’ll walk there. It’s not that far away and it’s always nice to enjoy some fresh air after a long day at school.

It’s odd that Hanbin went to the studio, Hao thinks. He knows his whole schedule and today is not supposed to be a practice day for him. In fact, he’s supposed to be with Hao now, but he ditched him to talk to Taerae, so it’s not like he could’ve known Hao would drop by his house.

Hao quickly gets there, entering the building quietly. He’s been here countless times, picking up Hanbin from practice or just dropping off some food and clothes. Almost everyone here knows him as Hanbin’s best friend. He feels proud when he hears that title being associated with him because yes, he’s Hanbin’s best friend. And Hanbin is his.

He waves to the receptionist, who looks up from his phone as he opens the door. He doesn’t remember his name, but he’s seen him dancing with Hanbin sometimes. “Hey Hao,” the guy greets.

Hao gives him a small smile, although he feels a bit bad for not knowing his name. He’ll ask Hanbin later. “Hi, have you seen Hanbin around?”

“He’s in the last room down the corridor,” he replies. Hao thanks him and embarks on his mission to find Hanbin.

This place is big, spacious. There’re at least six practice rooms inside the building, and Hao knows there’s more down the back. Today, however, the place seems unusually quiet and empty, with only the faint music coming from the room he assumes Hanbin is in.

It’s not hard to find who he’s looking for. The door is mostly open, and inside is Hanbin, though not alone. There’s another guy here. A strikingly handsome guy, if Hao’s being honest. And this very handsome guy is standing very close to Hanbin, touching his arms and grabbing his hands as he helps him perfect a dance move.

There’s nothing romantic or flirtatious in their interaction, quite opposite, actually. There seems to be an almost clinical intention to the way they’re touching. He’s purely focused on helping him improve, nothing else. They’re not even looking at each other.

Yet, despite knowing all this, Hao still feels his body burn and his cheeks heat up with a twisted sort of rage. He knows this feeling; he’s felt it before. Jealousy. It feels bad, uncomfortable, but weirdly enough, it makes him feel alive.

He fights the urge to barge into the room, and pry those undeserving hands away from his Hanbin. He wants to scream at the guy and tell him to back off. Yet he does none of that. He just remains rooted to the spot, observing the scene before him. He wants to see everything. Wants to see if this man is interested in Hanbin or if Hanbin is interested in him.

Nothing happens between them. All he hears is a polite ‘thanks hyung’ from Hanbin once he gets the movement right. Still, the ugly monster stays on Hao’s chest, urging him to do something, to claim Hanbin as his.

Before he can act on it, the music starts again. Hao’s mesmerized. He didn’t know Hanbin’s body could move like this, or anyone’s, for that matter. He’s seen him dance before, yes, countless times, and he’s amazing. Hao’s heard some people calling him a prodigy, and he agrees. But it was nothing like this.

Hanbin mentioned a while ago that he wanted to learn a new dancing technique, but Hao thought it’d be something like, hip hop, perhaps. Not this. This, he’s never seen before.

His arms and hands form sharp angles, extending and retracting with precision. Even his fingers seem to be dancing, creating shapes, telling a story of their own. The pace of the music quickens, and so do his movements, reaching a point where Hao simply can’t keep up with him.

He can’t tear his eyes away, doesn’t want to. He could do this forever, just look at Hanbin while he does what he loves, what he’s best at, lost in the magic of his movements.

A thought begins to take shape, and, for the first time, Hao allows it to blossom. He’s in love with Hanbin.

Love — it’s a big word, one that carries an immense weight, but honestly, that’s the only word that could even begin to describe everything he feels for this boy. Even “love” is not enough sometimes.

Hao knows he’s still teenager, fully aware that he hasn’t experienced even half of what life has to offer, but he also knows that Hanbin is his first and last love — a fact that will never change.

He once believed that admitting this would be life-changing, would forever transform the way he sees Habin. But to his surprise, it’s anything but. There’s no dread or anxiety coursing through him. He feels just like he does any other day, same as always.

Right here, he realizes that perhaps he’s been seeing Hanbin in this light for as long as he can remember. Loving Hanbin is second nature to him, almost like an instinct. Beig in love with him is the same.

Yet, he won’t tell him. He’ll never tell him. There are too many uncertainties, too much at stake. He’s content enough with having him by his side as his best friend. Not having him at all would be unbearable.

Hao’s so immersed in his thoughts he doesn’t see Hanbin and the other guy leaving the practice room. “Hao Hyung?” Hanbin asks, scaring Hao out of his mind. He places a hand on his chest, where he can feel his heart, strong and fast. His friend gently strokes his upper arm, trying to calm him down. “Sorry hyung, didn’t mean to scare you.”

"It's okay, Hanbinnie. I was just lost in my thoughts and didn't hear you," he reassures, grabbins Hanbin's hand and naturally interlocking their fingers, as if it's an ingrained habit, which, by this point, it is.

“What are you doing here hyung?”

“I wanted to spend the afternoon with you but you weren’t home. Your mom told me where to find you.”

“Ah hyung, sorry. I thought you didn’t want to be with me today,” Hanbin replies, lowering his gaze.

Hao can’t have him thinking that, so he just speaks his mind, no filter. “I always want to be with you. I just had something important to talk about with Taerae.”

Hanbin’s face grows red at the admission, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. A cute tomato, Hao thinks. “Ah… I understand hyung.”

A soft cough interrupts their moment. Right, they’re not alone. Hao forgot. Hanbin whips his head back, looking at their company. “Sorry, Jiwoong hyung, I got distracted. This is Hao hyung,” he says, as he points at the other boy. Then, turning to Hao, “This is Jiwoong hyung, he’s helping me with some dance moves.”

“Nice to meet you. Please take care of Hanbinnie,” Hao greets as he bows.

Jiwoong bows back. “Nice to meet you Hao, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he mentions, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he gives Hanbin a knowing smirk. “Way too much, to be honest. This guy right here just does not shut up when it concerns you.”

“Hyung!” Hanbin exclaims, face even redder than before, if that’s possible. He’s so cute. Hao knows he must look smitten right now, but he can’t help it.

Jiwoong just shrugs his shoulders, feign innocence coating his features. “I’m telling the truth here. Hao, if I told you how many times this guy right here waxes poetic about how bea-”

“Okay, that’s enough for today. We’re leaving,” Hanbin interrupts, tugging Hao towards the exit, practically running. “Thanks, hyung, see you next week”.

Hao can hear the faint echo of Jiwoong’s laughter reverberating through the empty hall. “You’re welcome Hanbin. And you should totally tell him!”

They hurriedly say their goodbyes to the receptionist, Seunghwan, Hao learns.  “Why did we run?” Hao inquires once they’re outside. Then, he remembers what Jiwoong shouted, “You should tell what to whom?”

Hanbin gets even redder. How is this possible? Will his skin ever go back to normal? “No one hyung, ignore him. He’s just a pain in the ass most of the time,” he says with a sigh, trying to fan himself with his hands to alleviate his flushed skin. “Let’s go home.”

“Tell me about your day,” Hao requests as they begin walking, hand in hand again. Hanbin smiles, big and happy, whiskers visible. Hao can’t resist the urge to poke at them. “Cute.” Hanbin whines, swatting Hao’s hand away.

He learns a few things. The dance he saw earlier is called waacking, and Hanbin has been learning it for about two months now. He didn’t show Hao before because he wanted to be good at it, which he, according to him, isn’t yet.

Honestly, Hao disagrees, and he says as much. His eye might be untrained when it comes to dancing, but he has common sense, and what he saw Hanbin do with his body was extraordinary.

Hanbin gets shy at the praise, promising him he’ll show him an even better performance in the future. Hao really looks forward to it. “You’re a true star, Hanbinnie,” he says. “I have no doubts that in some time, you’ll be the best at it.”

“Hyung, stop it,” Hanbin whispers. “If you keep this going, I’ll start crying right here,” he chuckles, as if it’s a joke, but Hao can see the way his eyes shine, so there might be some truth to it. “Tell me about yours now.”

“My day?” Hao asks and Hanbin nods. “Well, we were together at school,” he starts, racking his brain for something else. There isn’t much to tell, really. “Then club, then I spoke with Taerae, and now I’m here.”

“I forgot hyung was a man of few words.”

“Sorry,” Hao apologizes just for the sake of it. He knows Hanbin is just messing with him.

“I’m joking,” Hanbin pouts, side-hugging Hao. He’s a little bit shorter than him now, so his head fits perfectly on the small of his neck. Hao can’t resist the urge to softly graze the top of Hanbin’s head with his lips. 

“Was it serious, your talk with Taerae, I mean?” he asks, looking up from his place on Hao’s neck. Their faces are so close; Hao can see every single eyelash adorning his eyes. He’s stunning, has always been. “Is something bad going on with hyung?”

His eyes show so much concern, Hao’s chest aches at the sight of it. He wonders how long Hanbin has known something was going on, how long he’s been worried. He knows he needed some time to sort out his feelings, yet that doesn’t diminish the guilt he feels at making his friend feel like that.

“It’s not bad, Hanbinnie. I’ve been… going through something.”

“You can tell me if you want to hyung. I’ll always listen to you,” he offers, eyes open and vulnerable.

And it’s just that. An offer to listen. Not a demand. He doesn’t make it seem like Hao owes him an explanation just because they’ve been through so much together, shared so many years of their lives. He just wants to know because he cares.

“I will,” and today, he’s telling the truth. Hao will be honest with Hanbin. That’s what his friend deserves. He should have been the first person to know, but Hao is not going to beat himself up over what he should have done. There was a reason for that, a valid one. Still, he’ll rectify this. “But let’s get home first.”

________________________

The sunset is so pretty they decide to settle on a small bench in Hao's backyard to watch the last of it. The sky is painted in various shades of pink, lavender, orange. Hanbin gazes at it in awe, profile illuminated by the fading daylight, and it might sound cliché, but to Hao he’s prettier than the sky.

They sit there, just admiring the view, basking in the tranquil moment, but Hao starts to feel impatient. He needs to let it all out now, before it bursts out of him.

Hao takes a deep breath, catching Hanbin’s attention. “I’m feeling a bit nervous,” he confesses.

“Hyung, don’t be,” Hanbin reassures him with a gentle smile. “It’s just me.”

He is right. It’s just Hanbin. The same person he’s known for seven years, who’s never once left his side. His best friend forever, his eternal half.

Hanbin’s words give him the courage he needed. He knows this won’t end badly for him, for them. Here goes nothing.

“Last year one of our classmates said some bad things to me, remember?” He begins. Hanbin nods, expression hardening at the memory. “Well, I didn’t tell you this back then but he called me gay too. But… less kindly.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” it’s the instant answer that tumbles from his mouth, but it lacks honesty. No more lies, he reminds himself. “That’s a lie. I do know,” he rectifies, glancing down at his hands resting on his lap. “I was scared Hanbin. Scared of telling you because I didn’t know how you’d react if it happened to be true.”

“You thought…” his voice trails off, words dissipating into silence.

Hao sighs. He didn’t think this would be easy, not by any chance. At least not as easy as it was with Taerae. He doesn’t mean to hurt Hanbin, he truly doesn’t, but he’s learned from his past mistakes. He’d rather hurt him with the truth than feed him more lies.

Hao takes Hanbin’s hand, the one that rests between them, seeking his lovely eyes and connecting them once again. “Yes,” Hao admits, “I know you wouldn’t, I really do,” he tries to put as much conviction as he can into his eyes, into his words. “But you can never be too sure, especially with something like this,” Hao whispers his last words. “I hope you can understand Hanbinnie.”

Hanbin does, judging by his expression. “I do hyung, more than you can imagine,” he says, squeezing Hao’s hand. He wants to ask more about what he just said, but now it’s not the time. “Go on please.”

Hao resumes, “Well, after that guy called me gay, I didn’t think about it for a long time. It wasn’t something I needed to know right away. But one day I just couldn’t stop thinking about it, and…” his sentence falters, frustration bubbling up inside him. He’s unable to find the right words.

Scratch that, he knows the right words, the exact words he must say, yet it’s hard. Why was it so easy before and so hard now? Fuck this, really. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m gay, Hanbin.”

The confession leaves his lips suddenly, catching him off guard. He didn’t mean to say it like that. He didn’t mean to say it at all. Amid his frustration, his body seemed to act on its own, perhaps to put an end to this, once and for all.

He can’t move, and he knows he’s not breathing, as tiny black dots begin dancing before his eyes. Next thing he knows, Hanbin’s face is right in front of his, their foreheads touching. “Hyung, breathe,” he faintly hears. “It’s ok. You’re safe.”

Hao does feel safe, always has, whenever Hanbin is nearby. He closes his eyes and focuses on Hanbin’s sweet, honey voice, willing his heartbeat and breathing to return to normal. Once he feels better, he slumps into Hanbin’s arms, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Hanbin’s arms embrace him. This is his favorite place in the entire world.

“Thank you for telling me,” Hanbin whispers. “Can I ask you something?” Hao nods, as his mouth is pressed against Hanbin’s shoulder. “Was it hard hyung?” he inquires, voice soft by Hao’s ear. “To admit it to yourself?”

He repositions his head to answer, so now his cheek is squished against his friend’s shoulder. “No, it felt very natural. Many things finally made sense, so I was relieved.”

Hanbin hums, contemplative. “I’m glad it was like that for you,” he says, smile evident in his voice. “Also, I’d like to apologize. I didn’t realize you were going through something like that. I thought…” his voice trails off, heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I thought it was something else. I wish I could have been of help.”

In an instant, Hao pulls away from the hug. Hanbin’s eyes remain fixed on the ground, avoiding Hao’s. He needs to know what’s happening on that head of his, and the only way to do that is by looking into his eyes.

“Look at me,” Hao commands, but Hanbin’s eyes remain stubbornly fixed to the spot. It’s Hao’s turn now to take his friend’s face in his hands and turn it towards him. Just like he expected, he can see guilt reflected in them. He can’t let him feel like this, can’t let him bear this burden.

“Hanbin,” he begins, voice firm. He needs him to understand. “You don’t need to apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t you realize?”

“Realize what?”

“You being with me is enough.” Hao emphasizes. Hanbin slightly gasps at the affirmation, at the conviction behind Hao’s words. “You don’t need to do anything else.”

Tears fill Hanbin’s eyes, making them look like two shiny jewels. “You mean it hyung?” he asks, voice small.

Hao doesn’t think Hanbin could ever begin to understand how much he means to him. Or maybe he does, the hopeful part of his brain supplies. Maybe he means to Hanbin as much as Hanbin means to him. “Yes, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Hao affirms, and Hanbin’s tears finally fall.

Hao makes up his mind then. He will be as honest as he can without actually telling him he’s in love with him. “I’m going to tell you something, so listen carefully, Hanbinnie.” Hanbin nods, expectant.

“Without you, I wouldn’t be the person that I’m today. I wouldn’t know what it truly means to have a friend, to love someone so much you would do anything for them. I can’t even begin to imagine how my life would be without you, since you’re such a big part of it.”

“Hao hyung,” Hanbin whispers, voice in awe. He’s full-on crying now, which, if he thinks about it, is an outcome he never imagined. He thought it’d be the other way around. “I love you hyung.”

They’ve never said those words before, only conveying their feelings through actions. Hao should feel mortified, would feel mortified if this was any other day, but it is not any other day. Today is important. It truly feels like something has shifted within him, and, if he’s adventurous enough, them.

“I love you too, Hanbinnie.”

Hao has made a decision. Hao will tell him he’s in love with him. But not today. They have time.

________________________ 

They don’t.

When Hao is seventeen, he leaves.

He must return to China.  

He waited too long.

____________________

Cheonan, 2017

Their relationship has evolved significantly in the past few months, ever since Hao came out to Hanbin.

Hao doesn’t know for sure, doesn’t want to get his hopes up in case it’s all in his head, but he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Hanbin feels the same way about him, loves him back as something more than friends. He knows it’s risky to delude himself like this, to hope, but Hanbin’s actions aren’t making it any easier.

Take yesterday, for instance. They decide to spend their Friday night watching a movie after school, no classes or homework to worry about. As they settle for the evening, Hao casually mentions his craving for some caramel popcorn and, to his surprise, Hanbin offers to make it for him. With an easy smile and a casual “I’ll be right back,” Hanbin ventures to the grocery store around the corner.

In the meantime, Hao sets up their cozy movie-watching nest in the living room, arranging a collection of plush pillows and fluffy blankets on the couch. The popcorn turns out to be delicious, and it’s a wonder, since Hanbin’s not really good at cooking. Neither of them are. They mostly survive by the grace of instant ramen and their mother’s home-cooked meals.

Hao doesn’t ask questions about Hanbin’s sudden improvement on the kitchen, just enjoys the sweet flavor melting on his tongue after sneakily stealing some as soon as it’s ready. Hanbin playfully tries to swat his hand away, but they both know it’s a losing battle, as he ends up feeding Hao anyway.

Hao wants to watch a romantic comedy and Hanbin instantly agrees, as it is something they both enjoy. They settle on the couch together, pressed so closely it’s hard to distinguish where one ends and the other begins.

Hao naturally runs colder than most people, hands and feet always freezing, which is one of the reasons he’s always stuck by his friend’s side, since Hanbin is practically a portable heater, always inviting and comforting. It mirrors his sunshine personality.

Hanbin balances the bowl of popcorn on his leg and every time Hao takes some, their hands brush, grazing, sending a pleasant sensation through his body. Everything feels so domestic. Hao finds himself thinking that he could get used to this, to spending endless afternoons sitting right next to Hanbin, simply being with him. That’s enough.

He tries to focus on the movie, he really does, but Hanbin’s beauty seems to magnify under the soft glow of the TV. Hao can’t help but notice the delicate features that make him so lovely.

He has the prettiest nose Hao’s ever seen. The prettiest eyes, as well. Right at this moment they shine so bright, full of mirth as he’s laughing, whiskers showing. He’s never seen prettier dimples, or someone with such long and beautiful eyelashes. They brush against the apples of his cheeks every time he blinks.

Hanbin’s lips are beautiful too. His upper lip has a very distinctive shape with a very pronounced cupid's bow, while his lower lip is plushier, making it seem like he’s perpetually pouting. Hao can’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel those lips against his own.

He knows he must look like a lovesick fool, and frankly, that’s exactly what he is.  No shame in admitting it.

Eventually, he dozes off, head falling onto Hanbin’s shoulder. It’s impossible not to fall asleep when he feels so warm and safe. He still can hear the movie playing in the background, can feel Hanbin’s body shifting as he laughs, can feel their hands intertwined.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed, but he can’t hear the movie anymore. Instead, he can feel Hanbin’s fingers gently tracing his cheeks, his nose, his lips.

“So pretty, my hyung,” Hanbin whispers.

“Hmmm?” Hao hums, not entirely sure he heard him right. He’s on the brink of falling asleep again, barely conscious.

He feels the soft press of lips on his forehead. He must be dreaming. “Nothing, go back to sleep.”

“Mmkay.” Hao agrees, feeling a soft weight settle on top of his head. It’s Hanbin, their heads resting against each other.

When his mom finds them, they’ve switched positions. Now, Hao clings tightly to Hanbin around the middle, face nestled on the crook of his neck. Hanbin’s arms are securely wrapped around Hao’s shoulders.

Hao hears his mom approaching them and pretends to be deeply asleep. He has no intention of moving, not now, not ever.

“First love… always so special,” she sighs. Hao feels his body heat up at her words, suddenly more awake than ever. Thankfully his face remains mostly hidden. “Kids,” his mom calls, gently shaking them awake. “Time for bed.”

Hanbin wakes up immediately. “Yes auntie,” he responds groggily but dutifully.

Hanbin tries to move, and that irritates Hao a little. He’s comfortable; he already said he does not want to move. “Leave me alone,” he mumbles, snuggling even closer to his friend, arms forming an iron grip around his waist.

“Hyung is not waking up, auntie,” Hanbin whispers to his mom, who sighs tiredly. “I’ll carry him upstairs.”

Hao revels in this moment. This is exactly what he wanted. If he were awake, which he’s absolutely not, he would have let out a small, victorious giggle.

“He used to be just like this when he was a baby,” she says, and Hao feels the gentle caress of his mother’s hand on his forehead. “You’re so good to my Hao, Hanbinnie.”

He can feel Hanbin’s neck growing warm, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as if he wants to say something but can’t find the right words. His mom chuckles, amused at Hanbin’s struggle. “Don’t be embarrassed, Hanbinnie. I’m grateful to know you two will always have each other. Now, off to bed,” she commands, leaving in the direction of the kitchen.  

“Hyungie, let go of me so I can take you to bed,” Hanbin whispers, his fingers gently combing through Hao’s hair.

He knows he should open his eyes. He is awake, has been awake for longer than Hanbin. But he refuses to go upstairs on his own, wanting Hanbin to carry him. It’s only fair, after having to endure the hardships of life, right?

Hao mumbles something incomprehensible, trying to keep the act as long as possible. He hears Hanbin chuckle, “I’ll carry you hyung, but I can’t do that if you’re clinging to me like a koala.”

He’s right, so Hao reluctantly loosens his grip, but only slightly, still supposed to be mostly asleep, and next thing he knows Hanbin’s carrying him bridal-style.He suppresses the urge to gasp, because, again, he’s asleep, but he can’t suppress the blush that paints his cheeks red or the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Hao rests his head on Hanbin’s shoulder, arms looping through his neck. His friend carries him upstairs effortlessly, as if he’s weightless, and that makes him feel a little lightheaded at the display of strength.

With great care, Hanbin deposits him on the bed, trying and failing to get the blankets from under him. “Hao Hyung, get under the covers,” he instructs, and Hao obeys, keeping his eyes closed.

Hanbin joins him, taking his sweet time to get comfortable. He eventually finds Hao’s hand under the blanket, lacing their pinkies together. They stay like that for a few minutes until Hanbin breaks the silence. “I know you’re awake.”

Hao turns to his side, facing Hanbin. This is unfair. He thought he was convincing. “How did you know?” he asks, his lips forming a pout.

He can’t clearly see Hanbin’s face, as he’s lying on his back and it’s dark, but he can hear the smile in his words. “You’re not a very good actor, hyung. Why did you pretend to be asleep?”

Hao doesn’t know what drives him to confess the truth, but he does it anyway, despite the embarrassment. “I wanted you to carry me here.”

Hanbin hums softly. “Well, you should have just asked. I’d do anything for you,” he says nonchalantly. His words hit Hao like a bucket of cold water, rendering him speechless. Or maybe a bucket of warm water, considering the flush that spreads across his body. “Let’s sleep, hyung.”

How can he say such things and expect Hao to be normal. “You can’t just say something like that.”

Hanbin tugs on his arm, urging him closer. “I can. I mean it. Now let’s sleep.”

“Hanbiiiin,” Hao whines, yet still does as he’s told. He rests against Hanbin’s side, head right over his heart, arm draped over his middle. He feels every breath Hanbin takes, every heartbeat. So, when he whispers, “I love you Hanbinnie,” he can also feel the way his heartbeat quickens, the way his body shivers.

Hanbin inhales deeply before responding. “I love you too. Sweet dreams, hyung,” he whispers, placing a tender kiss on the top of Hao’s head.

Summoning one last burst of courage, Hao kisses Hanbin’s chest, right over his pounding heart. “I’ll dream about you.”

________________________

Hanbin leaves early for dance practice, promising to return later that night after planting a tender kiss on Hao's forehead and wishing him a good day.

Hao spends the entire day on cloud nine, unable to shake the feeling that his heart has grown bigger in size, overfed with love. He can’t stop thinking about Hanbin. How can he not, when little reminders of their life together are all around him?

His room is filled with these. A hamster plushie Hao bought on impulse because it reminded him of Hanbin, resting against his pillows. A picture frame of them going to the aquarium on Hanbin’s birthday. The strawberry chapstick resting on his night stand, a gift from Hanbin since Hao kept stealing his (he still does). His dolphin necklace, which he ever takes off. Even the empty can of coke zero, their favorite drink, seems to contain happy memories.

Their lives are so intertwined together, Hao can’t even begin to imagine an existence without Hanbin. The thought is unbearable, which makes the news his mother delivers later even more heart-wrenching.

In the late afternoon, she softly knocks on his door, entering his room with light steps. Hao doesn’t think much of it and keeps reading a book he borrowed from Taerae. He assumes she’s simply bringing freshly laundered clothes.

However, things take an unexpected turn. She sits beside him on the bed, patting his leg for attention. “We need to talk,” she says, her eyes carrying a sadness he hasn’t seen in a very long time. Years. He feels dread sneak his way up his spine. She’s bearing bad news, he knows it.

With an effort to remain calm, Hao asks, “What is it, mom?” but the slight quiver of his voice gives him away.

She closes her eyes for a moment before saying, “Your grandfather called today.” Hao understands immediately. He doesn’t need her to elaborate, doesn’t need to be told what this is about, he already knows it. “They’re old, you know it,” she explains, apprehension coating voice. “Grandma is not well, and grandpa can’t care for her as he’d like.”

Hao feels sick. He doesn’t want to go back to China. Doesn’t want to be alone again, doesn’t want to go back to a place he once called home but nowadays is anything but.

“Say something son,” she pleads, voice almost desperate. Hao didn’t realize he hadn’t responded, thoughts in chaos.

“When…” he begins, voice cracking involuntarily. He clears his throat, trying to regain composure, but the struggle is evident. Hao needs to be strong for his mom. She should worry about grandma only, not him. “When are we leaving,” he finally asks.

“In two days.”

Two days. Forty-eight hours. It feels like both an eternity and the blink of an eye.

“I understand,” he manages to reply, trying to remain as calm as possible. “Can I have some time alone please?”

His mother’s face reflects a mixture of guilt and sorrow. “I’m sorry about this. If only I could-”

“I know mom,” Hao interrupts, not wanting her to blame herself for something completely out of her control. “It’s fine.”

She takes his hand then, almost desperate. “It’s not fine Hao. Stop pretending.”

“What do you want me to say?” he snaps, abruptly yanking his hand away from her hold. He hasn’t been able to process the fact that he’s leaving yet; what does she expect him to do?

He regrets his reaction immediately, as her expression becomes sorrowful. “What about school?” she asks, “your friends? Hanbin? I know you guys are-”.

Hao doesn’t let her finish her sentence, can’t let her go on. “Mom, stop. Please,” he begs, eyes burning with unshed tears. He already knows all of that, better than anyone. “Why are you doing this, mom? There’s nothing I can do now. I have to leave with you. It doesn’t matter what I think, what I feel, I still have to do it.”

She deflates, fight leaving her body. She most likely doesn’t want to leave either. Her memories of her time back there are not the best, Hao is aware of it. “Sorry.”

Hao sighs, drying his tears with the back of his hand before they have a chance to fall. “Don’t apologize mom,” he says, squeezing her hand in an attempt to offer comfort. “We’ll talk later, I promise. I just need some time alone right now.”

She sighs, nodding in agreement and kissing his forehead before leaving.

Hanbin. It’s the first thought that comes to his mind once he’s alone. Hanbin. Hanbin. Hanbin.

It’s a constant loop, his name, his face, their memories, everything. That’s what brings him over the edge. He allows the tears to fall this time, and once the first does, he can’t contain the rest.

He hides beneath his blankets, in hopes it can muffle the loud sound of his sobs. He’s never cried this hard; never felt pain this bad. What’s going to happen to us now, he keeps wondering.

Hanbin is the only constant in his life, the one who’s always been there. He never thought something like this would happen, never in a million years. Even now, after receiving the news, he can't help but envision his future with Hanbin right by his side.

He loses track of time as he weeps, tears soaking his pillow and blanket shielding him from the world.

Hanbin, as promised, comes by after dance practice. For the first time in his life, Hao wishes his friend wasn’t so good at keeping promises. Perhaps that would spare them both from the impending heartache.

He hears Hanbin’s hurried footsteps making his way upstairs, the urgency in them evident. He must know something is wrong, must have seen it in his mother’s eyes.

Hanbin doesn’t even bother knocking, just bursts the door open, eyes frantically scanning the space, searching for Hao, who is peeking through the edge of his blanket. Bile rises in his throat, panic replacing the deep ache he felt earlier. He doesn’t want to tell him. If it were up to him, he’d leave just like that, without ever saying anything, without seeing him again. But he can’t do that, can’t be so cruel.

His friend’s eyes look distressed. When he notices Hao’s state, he can see in real time how they fill with panic. “Hyung?”, he says, running to his bed and collapsing on it, cradling Hao’s face in his trembling hands. “What’s wrong hyung?”

Hao’s thoughts are a tangled mess, and so is his heart. He couldn’t speak even if he tried. Instead, he cries harder than before, hoping that somehow Hanbin will understand.

Hanbin dries his tears, gently brushing the pad of his thumb beneath his eyes. When that fails to calm him, he pulls him into a tender hug, holding him close and allowing him to bury his face in the fabric of his shirt, right against his rapid-beating heart.

This might be the last time he’ll get to do this, to feel Hanbin so close. That thought makes him sob even harder. Hanbin is crying too, Hao notices after a while. Maybe he understands now. “Hyung, you’re worrying me. Please say something,” he pleads, voice quivering.

He has to tell him. “Hanbin,” he starts, and his voice sounds so raw, foreign even to his own ears. “Why did this have to happen? I don’t understand,” are the only words he can muster.

Hanbin heart accelerates even more, if that’s possible. “What do you mean hyung, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

He can't bear to look at him right now, doesn't want to see the expression his face will take once he breaks the news to him. It will be etched in his memory forever, keeping him up at night, burdening him with guilt at having been the cause of it.

“Hanbin, I’m leaving,” Hao finally whispers.

Hanbin pulls back slightly, grabbing a hold of Hao’s face once again. “You’re leaving? What’s that supposed to mean hyung? Leave where?” he implores, eyes searching Hao’s for answers.

Hao doesn’t respond with words; he just stares at him, stares at his beautiful brown eyes. Even though they’re red and puffy, wet lashes spiked with tears, they’re still the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. Through them, he’s been able to get to know Hanbin, the real him. Through them, he’s felt loved.

The weight of his words hangs in the air, making the room feel colder. Hao can see the slow, dawning realization taking over Hanbin. “China?” he asks, and Hao nods, confirming his assumption.

Anguish. It’s a feeling he’s never seen on his friend’s face before, didn’t even know Hanbin was capable of it. Hao feels the exact same way and it breaks him, breaks him to realize there’s nothing he can do to comfort him, nothing to undo this cruel twist of fate.

The most devastating words tumble out of Hanbin’s mouth a few moments later, “Hyung, how am I going to live without you hyung?” he says, voice desperate, and he keeps repeating hyung, one time, two times, a million times. Almost like a prayer. Like he’s asking the gods, the universe, whoever is listening, for help. But no one answers.

Hao doesn’t know how long they stay like that, just crying and staring at each other. Hanbin breaks the tear-streaked silence, voice barely above a whisper. “Hyung, can I ask for something? One last thing?”

“Anything Hanbin, name it and I’ll give it to you,” Hao utters, sincerity lacing his words. It’s the most genuine promise he’s ever made, the one wish that would make him happy forever: to give Hanbin anything, everything he wants.

“Can you kiss me?”

Hao is frozen in place, speechless. The world stops for a few seconds.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to, hell no. It’s just that this is unexpected. He hoped, he wished, he longed for something like this for so long. Now that’s within his reach, it feels surreal.

“I know I’m being selfish,” Hanbin explains, frantic, “but I need to be selfish at least once in my life.”

The silence stretches between them for a minute, two, three, Hao’s lost count. Hanbin's eyes become desperate. He tries to reel back, put some space between them, taking Hao’s quietude as rejection. “Forget about this hyung, I was out of line, I’m so-”

Hao kisses him.

It’s chaste, just a peck on the lips, yet it’s sweet, soft, everything he’s ever wanted. Everything he’s ever dreamed of.

It’s heartbreaking, the taste of Hanbin’s tears, mingling with his own, the taste of his soft and warm lips, that he would kiss forever given the chance.

Their lips part, and for a while no one says a word, the sound of their labored breaths the only audible thing in the room.

“That was my first kiss, hyung,” Hanbin breaks the silence, voice tinged with shyness. His ears, his neck, his cheeks are a lovely shade of red. Hao wants to kiss him again, and again, and again.

A soft smile graces Hao’s lips, tears glistening in his eyes, “Mine too, Hanbinnie,” he confesses.

“I’m sorry it was such a sad first kiss,” Hanbin says with a small, dejected laugh.

Hao’s heart aches at his words. It was sad, he won’t deny it or try to sugarcoat the situation. He wishes it could have happened under different, happier circumstances. But that doesn’t make this moment any less important, any less beautiful. It’s their first kiss. He will always keep this memory close to his heart, safe, where nothing can tarnish it.

“Don’t be. Any memory shines brighter when you’re a part of it,” Hao declares, punctuating his words with a soft caress to Hanbin’s rosy cheek.  

He seems taken aback by his words, eyes welling up with fresh tears. “Don’t say things like that, hyung.”

“It’s true,” he insists, catching Hanbin’s tears with a soft kiss to his cheeks. “I don’t have a single sad memory of my life here, Hanbin, and it’s all thanks to you.”

He rests his forehead against Hanbin’s and closes his eyes, just breathing him in. Hao knows he won’t get any chances for such intimacy in the future, so he must make the most of the time they do have.

Hanbin keeps crying, although his tears fall silently now. “Hyung, why does this have to happen to us?” he asks, and it breaks Hao’s heart even more, if that’s possible. “Can I be honest with you?” Hanbin inquires.

“You know can.”

Hanbin takes a deep breath. “I always dreamed of our graduation day,” he begins, voice wobbly. “The pictures we would take under the cherry blossoms,” his eyes, although sad, are brimming with adoration. “I was planning on buying a big bouquet of flowers just for you. I could even picture our moms, hugging, crying, laughing.”

Hao always dreamed of their graduation day as well. In that dream, maybe they’d be together already, maybe not. Maybe he’d confess right there. It doesn’t matter, what matters is that they’d be right side by side, as they are meant to be.

Hao’s crying again too, only notices it when Hanbin brushes the pad of his thumbs beneath his eyes. His next words make the tears come out with even more fervor. Is harrowing to know that he yearns as much as Hao does. 

“We’d move somewhere else to go to university,” Hanbin continues, voice soft and tinged with longing. “And we’d share a tiny apartment because I know you wouldn’t be able to stand living with someone you don’t know. And honestly, I’ve always wanted to live with you,” he says with a shy laugh.

“I would love to live with you, Hanbinnie.”

Hanbin smiles, naked adoration for the boy in front of him lighting up his somber eyes. “We’d decorate our apartment with tiny cacti, as we’d be shit at taking care of any other plants. You know, they endure a little bit more than others.”

“They’d probably still die,” Hao quips and Hanbin’s smile widens, briefly revealing his beautiful whiskers.

“I think so too,” he agrees. “We’d have so many pictures around— our first day of school, the day we went to the aquarium, when we learned how to ride bikes, your first violin concerto at school, my first dance solo, our graduation day… I could keep going, hyung.”

“We’d be a perfect match,” Hao says, voice brimming with affection.  

“We are a perfect match,” Hanbin corrects, emphasizing his words with a small kiss to the tip of Hao’s nose. “You are in every memory of my life,” Hanbin continues. “Every important moment, I’ve spent it with you. I can’t think of a time where you haven’t been there.”

Hao can’t either. The days they’ve spent apart have been so few he can hardly recall them. They’re inexistent in his mind, inconsequential.

Hanbin expression grows somber. Hao knows where his thoughts have drifted.

“I have lived well, Hanbin. I have been happy,” Hao assures him, hoping his words can provide some solace. He can’t bear to see Hanbin in pain, doesn’t like it when something troubles him, although he knows this time is inevitable. “I’m happy now, despite everything, and it’s thanks to you. My life wouldn’t be like this if I hadn’t met you.”

Hanbin’s voice is filled with sorrow when he speaks. “Hyung, we don’t deserve to end like this.”

He feels his heart burst and shatter in a million pieces. “This is not our end, Hanbin,” Hao firmly states, putting as much conviction in his voice as he can. Hanbin doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “I swear it’s not. I’ll come back.”

“And when I do,” Hao continues, his determination unwavering. “I’ll confess. I’ll tell you everything I’ve kept close to my heart for years.” Hanbin looks at Hao, hope rekindling in his eyes. “It’s a promise,” Hao affirms, sealing their pact with a soft kiss to the corner of Hanbin’s mouth.

A promise Hao intends to keep. He doesn’t know when or how, but he will come back. He would chase Hanbin to the ends of Earth, to hell and back, if it means they’ll never be apart.

“When that day comes, I want you to know that I’ll accept your confession, hyung. You’ll hear all the words I’ve held back too, how my heart has only been yours ever since I understood what love is,” Hanbin says.

Once again, Hao finds himself on the brink of tears. All he’s done today is cry, but Hanbin’s words cut deep. It’s a remainder of how easily they could’ve had this earlier, had they only been honest with each other sooner. But the past is behind them now; what lies ahead is all that matters.

There’s one last thing he needs to say, one last confession. “I know we’re young and have no idea how the world works. I know life will be harsher for us than for others and being far apart might drift us away even if we don’t mean for it to happen. But I want you to know that you’re it for me, Hanbin. I’ll never be able to love someone as much as I love you.”

Hanbin sighs dreamily. “You are and will be my first and last in everything, hyung.”

This time, it’s Hanbin who surges forward, connecting their lips. It’s chaste and hesitant, just their mouths softly grazing. None of them have any experience on this, so they don’t really know what to do next.

Hao wants this to be good, wants this memory to be engraved on Hanbin’s mind forever. He tries to remember what he’s seen other people doing, what he’s seen in movies, so he opens his mouth just a little, allowing Hanbin’s lower lip to fit snugly between his own. Like this, he can feel the wetness of his mouth and suddenly, he craves more.

His mouth opens wider, sucking on any surface of Hanbin’s lips he can reach. Hanbin tries to follow Hao’s lead, their movements synchronizing. It’s messy, spit everywhere, teeth clanking, yet it’s perfect.

It’s always been like this for them, discovering new things together, learning new things together. It shouldn’t be surprising that it’s applied to something like this as well. Like Hanbin said: first and last.  

Hanbin lightly nips at Hao’s lower lip, pleasure coursing through him and prompting a small moan to escape without permission. He immediately breaks the kiss and hides his face on the crook of Hanbin’s neck, mortification creeping up his spine.

“H-Hyung,” Hanbin says, breathless, trying to make him come out of his hiding place. “Why are you hiding?” he asks. “Hyung, come on.”

Hao only clings tighter to Hanbin’s waist, voice muffled as he whines. “I don’t wanna.”

“Come on hyung, I want to kiss you again,” Hanbin declares, piquing his interest. He’s not weirded out by Hao’s behavior, which is a relief. Slowly, Hao releases his hold, and the sight that awaits him takes his breath away.

Hanbin’s face is completely flushed, neck, ears, cheeks all tinged with a delightful shade of red. His lips, bitten raw and glistening with saliva, are enough proof of what just happened. He looks utterly smitten, love-struck. Hao feels the same way.

“Sorry,” he apologizes for his stunt earlier, timidly scratching the back of his head.

“You’re cute hyung,” Hanbin remarks, kissing Hao’s cheek, “hyung,” his nose, “hyung,” his eyes, “hyung,” and finally his forehead. “I love you.”

Hao feels the warm flush spreading across his face at Hanbin’s affectionate gesture. “Stay here tonight.”

“You don’t need to ask.”

It takes them a little longer than usual to settle into bed. They kiss while they brush their teeth, while they wash their faces, even as they help each other into their pajamas.

Once they’re settled, Hao’s head over Hanbin’s chest while the other gently scratches his scalp, he has time to reflect on the crazy day they’ve had.

He doesn’t feel any better about leaving, not at all. But somehow, he doesn’t feel as hopeless as he did a few hours ago. Knowing that Hanbin feels the same way as he does has given his heart and mind some peace.

Hanbin seems to read his thoughts. “We’ll be ok hyung. It’s not forever,” he murmurs, punctuating his words with a loving kiss to the top of Hao’s head. “Sleep now.”

He closes his eyes, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of Hanbin’s chest and the soft, steady heartbeat beneath his ear.

He’s right. It’s not forever. This is nothing compared to the rest of their lives.

They have time.

________________________

His mom looks worried the next morning. As soon as they come downstairs, she rushes to hug them. It’s a funny sight, her very short arms trying to reach two tall and broad teenagers.

“My babies,” she greets them, voice breaking. Hanbin shoots him a worried glance; he’s never seen his mom like this before. “Good morning.”

“Morning auntie,” Hanbin says, gently caressing the top of her head. Not so long ago she used to be taller than them, but now her head barely reaches their shoulders.  

As she puts some distance between them Hao can notice how red and swollen her eyes are. It’s safe to say she most likely spent the night crying. That makes his heart feel heavy. He hopes seeing them well and happy can offer her some relief.

His mom studies their faces for a long time. She must reach the conclusion that they’re doing just fine, as she graces them with a radiant smile. “I’ll make you guys some breakfast,” she says, patting their arms affectionately. “Come help me, Hao. You can set the table, Hanbinnie.”

Hao is not that good in the kitchen, which is common knowledge, so she puts him to slice up some fruit while she makes the rest. “How did it go?” she asks, unconsciously biting her thumb. It’s red and raw.

Hao feels guilty. He should have talked to her sooner to ease her mind. “Better than I imagined,” he answers with a shy smile.

She gasps, dramatically putting her hands over her mouth. “Finally?”

“What do you mean ‘finally’?” he asks, side-eyeing her in indignation.

She laughs, amused. “Well, this is a long-time coming son. I’ve been waiting for this to happen ever since you got jealous of that girl.” Hao remembers what she’s talking about. She’s right. In retrospect, that should have been the biggest sign of his feelings. “Even before that, if I’m being totally honest. It took you so long to realize… So, finally then?”

Hao hums, stubbornly staring at the cutting board and not his mom. He doesn’t want to see the expression on her face, as he’s sure it’ll make him blush. “Yes.”

“Congratulations then,” she says, slapping him on the back. Ouch. “You’re not a baby anymore. Should we have a chat about safe sex?”

That makes him look up at his mom so fast he’s afraid he might pull a muscle on his neck. So much for not blushing. “W-What? Mom!”

She crackles at his reaction, so loud he knows everyone around the block can hear her.

Someone clears their throat. Hao turns around to see Hanbin standing at the kitchen door, the reddest he’s ever seen him. If he looks hard enough, he’s sure he can see smoke coming from him. It’s worrying. He definitely heard his mom. As if this can’t get any more embarrassing.

“Oh, our Hanbinnie is here,” she mentions, clasping her hands and approaching him. “I’ll leave the safe sex chat to your mom.”

“Eh- “

“Sorry, I’m just teasing you. Welcome to the family my dear son,” she says, hugging him. Hanbin is paralyzed for a few seconds, but ultimately hugs her back. “Well, I don’t think I should say ‘welcome’, you’ve been part of this family for years now.”

“Mom-”

“Shush, Zhang Hao, I’m talking to my son in law.”

“Mooom,” Hao whines in return. He should have never said anything. He’s mortified.

But Hanbin, his sweet lovely Hanbin, just lets out a gentle giggle at his mom’s antics, resting his cheek on top of her head. “Thank you, auntie.” He doesn’t mind being called ‘son in law’, it seems. Which is crazy.

Hao decides not to think about it. He’s just seventeen, dear lord.

________________________

Breakfast is simple and delicious. His mom has always been an amazing cook. He should’ve learned from her, if he’s being honest. Maybe now it’s the time, since soon he’ll be in China bored out of his mind without his other half.  

They eat quietly for the most part, just enjoying some quality time together. It’s been like this for years, so there’s nothing awkward about it. Quite the opposite.

“I spoke to your mom last night Hanbin,” his mom breaks the silence. Both pay attention to her. “We’ll get you guys phones so it’s easier to communicate.”

They turn to each other at the same time, surprise mirrored on their faces. Hao, ever dramatic, even lets out a small gasp.

Their moms had always refused to get them phones, arguing that they already spent all their time stuck to each other, so why would they need phones anyway. Hao never saw any flaws in their logic, so he didn’t complain. Never felt the need to have one either, considering it a waste of money.

But now, having a phone will become a necessity. He’ll be able to hear Hanbin’s voice at least once a day, text him whenever he wants. This will make their time apart more bearable.

Hao can’t help it. Driven by happiness and excitement, he crosses the distance between them and loudly smooches Hanbin on the cheek.

Hanbin, naturally, blushes, but he’s smiling as well, that special smile that Hao has started to recognize is reserved just for him. “Hao hyung,” he chides him, playfully swatting his arm. “Your mom is here.”

“I don’t care,” Hao says, kissing his cheek again for good measure. “I’m happy.”

Both thank her in unison. Hao hopes she knows how much this means to him, to them. “I know that the situation is not ideal kids, but we’ll make it work.”

A wave of emotion passes through him. He never expected her to be this supportive. Actually, scratch that — he knew she would be supportive, but not to this extent. Over time, hao has come to understand that in situations like this, it’s always a gamble. Most people aren’t as lucky as him. He’s thankful.

________________________

After breakfast, Hanbin helps him pack. It’s a bittersweet affair. He can easily delude himself into thinking that they might be packing to go on vacation or something, not this. But alas, this is his reality.

There’re so many clothes in his wardrobe that don’t belong to him. If he were a different type of person, he’d feel a little ashamed for essentially stealing, but he doesn’t. Hanbin gives him a knowing look every time he encounters a very familiar clothing item — mostly hoodies and t-shirts — but doesn’t ask for anything back. What’s Hanbin is his and what’s his is Hanbin’s, that has already been established long ago. 

“I want this, hyung,” Hanbin says, taking one of his most worn t-shirts. Hao’s had it for years. It’s a baby panda one his mom got him for his fifteenth birthday. She got the size wrong and Hao never got the chance to return it, so it became his favorite one to sleep or simply be at home. It’s been so loved over the years Hao’s sure his smell has become infused with the fabric itself.

“You can take anything you want,” Hao replies, stealing a quick peck from Hanbin. It feels so right to be able to do that now. “My things are yours as well.” Hanbin gives him a small, lovely smile. Hao wants to etch that smile into his brain, so he never forgets how pretty he looks.

As they finish packing, Hao remembers there’s still some things they need to discuss, as last night they barely had any time to do so. “Can we talk for a little bit?” he asks, sitting on the floor, resting his back against his bed. He feels very tired, everything finally catching up to him.

Hanbin sits next to him, resting his head on Hao’s shoulder. “You read my mind hyung, I also wanted to talk. Everything’s been moving so fast; I feel like we’ve barely had time to breathe.”

“Yes, I think so too,” Hao agrees. “The past eighteen hours have been… rough.”

Hanbin laughs. “I think that’s an understatement, hyung.”

And isn’t he right? Hao’s felt every single emotion under the sun in such a short period of time. From grief over his departure, to shock at Hanbin’s almost-confession, to now, where he’s feeling sad, yes, there’s no denying that, but also very at peace and hopeful. And in love. Let’s not forget the most important part.

There’s still something Hao needs to ask. Not that it really matters in the grand scheme of things, but he’d like a confirmation. “So… do you- do you like men?” Hao stammers, instantly regretting the words as they leave his mouth. It’s a very stupid question.

“Pretty sure I do,” Hanbin humors him, sensing his embarrassment. He could facepalm right now, really. “The thing is hyung, I’ve only ever liked you, so I don’t know if I actually like men or if it’s just you.”

“Oh…” Hao feels his insides churn at Hanbin’s straightforwardness. “I get the feeling,” he adds shyly.

Hanbin quickly shifts his position, turning his head to look at Hao. He seems somewhat surprised, which is crazy. “You’ve only ever liked me too?” he asks.

It’s an obvious answer, Hao thinks. He’s only ever had eyes for Hanbin, but he understands that Hanbin tends to be a little insecure sometimes, tends to need a little more reassurance.

Hao kisses him, slow and languid, hoping that’s enough to get his message across. Hanbin’s dazed expression tells him that it did, loud and clear.

“Remember the promise we made yesterday,” Hao mentions, kissing him again for good measure. “When I come back, I’ll tell you everything Hanbinnie.”

“You’re bad, hyung,” Hanbin pouts, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes.

He’s so cute, Hao thinks, pinching Hanbin’s cheek lightly. “Are we going to talk every day?”

“Obviously. I think I’d die if I don’t get my daily Hao hyung dose,” Hanbin answers with a smile. But then, his expression turns serious. “You’re coming back, right?”

“Yes. I promised.”

“I’ll wait for you for as long as it takes you to come back,” Hanbin vows.

Hao knows he will. He would wait for Hanbin as well and, in that aspect, as in many others, they’re the same. “You better,” he says, amused glint in his eye.

The rest of the afternoon is spent… well, making out on Hao’s bed. There’s really no other way to put it.

Hao loses count of how long they kiss for; all he has in mind is doing it as much as possible. He is mesmerized by how good Hanbin looks like this, kissed out of his mind, lips red and shiny with spit. “You’re so beautiful. The most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” Hao confesses.

Hanbin softly gasps, shying away from Hao’s intense gaze. “You’re pretty too, hyung,” he whispers. Hao wants to eat him whole, wants to mesh their bodies together so they become one. Someday he’ll find a way to do it.

At some point Hao can barely feel his lips, raw and swollen. They need to stop before this gets past the point of no return. He feels especially hot under the collar when Hanbin, surprisingly confident, starts leaving wet kisses on his jaw, behind his ear, on his neck.

He doesn’t know whether he should or shouldn’t be thankful when they’re interrupted by his mom. She doesn’t come in, just knows on his door and asks if they’re asleep.

Hao replies “no”, with a very high-pitched voice, which is honestly so, so embarrassing. His mom for sure knows what they were doing just a few seconds ago. He really doesn’t want to get the safe sex talk, thank you very much.

She chuckles, reminding them that they’re supposed to be at Taerae’s at five. Hao looks at his digital clock and realizes that five is in ten minutes.

They’ve been kissing for at least one hour.

Hao has to take a very fast and cold shower for reasons that he’d rather not disclose.

________________________

Later, they head to Taerae’s house, where he and Mathew are waiting for them. Hao called them this morning to arrange a meet-up, as he needs to share the news to his friends in person.

When he breaks the news, they both cry, which is unexpected to him, at least from Taerae’s part. He never pegged him for the sentimental type, but oh boy he was wrong. Hao kind of regrets not spending more time with them.

Matthew clings to him like his life depends on it, telling him how much he’ll miss him, how he wishes things were different, how he expects him to come back soon because they need him. It feels really nice to hear those words from someone he considers a close friend.

“You and Hanbin hyung seem different,” Taerae comments once they’re left alone, as Matthew and Hanbin go to the convenience store to buy some ice cream. Matthew was adamant about getting some mint-chocolate to cheer him up.

“Different how?” Hao asks, just because. He’s self-aware of the things that have changed between them. But he’s greedy, wants to know how others perceive them.

Taerae remains silent for a while, contemplating his answer. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’ve always been attached by the hip, that’s undeniable. But now, it’s just different.”

Hao knows what it is. To the untrained eye, nothing might appear different. They’ve always been touchy and affectionate with each other. But Taerae is not an untrained eye. He’s spent many hours with them, has seen them interact firsthand, so it’s only natural he notices.

Where before there was a fleeting touch on his waist, now Hanbin’s hand lingers. Where they used to look away once their eyes met, now they stay put. It’s the little things.

“Yeah, that’s because we are. Different, I mean,” Hao replies, feeling bashful under his friends scrutinizing stare. It’s not judgmental, just analytical, like he wants to discover the inner workings of Hao’s mind.

“Did it finally happen?” Taerae asks. Hao nods. “Congratulations then, hyung,” he says, and Hao can sense the sincerity in his words. He remains quiet, as he knows there’s something else troubling his friend. “I have a question, though,” Hao nods, encouraging. “Why now? When you’re leaving. Isn’t that going to hurt you both?”

He knew this question was coming. Frankly, he doesn’t have a definitive answer either. It’s just something that happened, something born from the heat of the moment, from the feelings clouding their senses. “I don’t know,” Hao admits.

In retrospect, he knows it might have not been the best course of action, and it might end up causing them more pain. However, he doesn’t regret it, not in the slightest. He’d rather have a taste of this and then leave, than not have anything at all and have to live from made up fantasies.

“But if I had to give you an answer, knowing that he likes me back gives me some peace of mind. I know I’ll come back and something good will be waiting for me here,” he explains with a small smile. “You know what type of person I am. I need to see things through to the end.”

“That you are, hyung,” Taerae agrees. “Also, it’s one more reason to come back as soon as you can.”

“Yeah, it is,” Hao acknowledges. “I hope everything goes well with your situation too,” he says cryptically. If he’s right about his assumption, then there’s something really interesting going on between both his friends.

“My situation?” Taerae asks, confused.

“You and Matthew. I’ve noticed.”

“Ah.” His voice sounds dejected. “It’s one sided.”

“How can you be so sure?” Hao inquires. Taerae definitely hasn’t noticed the way Matthew looks at him, that’s for sure. “Didn’t I say the same thing a while back? Look how much time Hanbin and I lost.”

Taerae looks contemplative for a few seconds. “I don’t think you should think about it as time lost, hyung.”

“What do you mean?” Hao asks, intrigued.

“Well, he’s your best friend before anything else,” Taerae explains. “That time you spent together wasn’t wasted; you just used it to strengthen your friendship, to get to know each other more. That’s why the transition from friends to something more was so natural. Why do you think of it as lost time, hyung?”

“I don’t know.” He really doesn’t. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes how wrong it is to refer to their time together as lost time. Because time spent with Hanbin is never that, quite the opposite. “I just thought… you’re actually right,” he concedes.

This is why he loves talking to Taerae. He’s so wise despite being younger, his words always giving him food for thought.

“I know hyung, I’m always right,” he says with a smug smile. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Hao responds in earnest, side-hugging him. Taerae is tiny. Cute. “When I come back, we’ll spend lots of time together,” he promises, pinching his cheek.

“Is that a threat, hyung?”

Hao playfully swats his arm. “Shut up.”

________________________

Hao and Hanbin leave as soon as the sun sets. He needs to be up early to catch a flight tomorrow, after all.

Hand in hand, they walk the entire way back home. It's not unheard of for them to do so, yet this time it feels different. Hao cherishes this moment, trying to engrave in his mind the way Hanbin's hand feels in his own — soft yet clammy, bony fingers fitting perfectly with his.

Standing on the doorstep, the warm glow of the streetlights paint Hanbin’s face a warm hue. He looks beautiful, surreal, almost like a painting. It feels like a scene in one or those romantic comedies they love to watch. Their story is almost like a rom-com as well, if Hao thinks about it. He hopes they get their happy ending.

This, right here, is their goodbye. Hao won’t see him again after today. He asked Hanbin not to go with him to the airport, fearing he wouldn’t be able to leave if Hanbin were there.

Hao doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. He wants to stretch this moment as much as he can, savor every second of it.

“Can I kiss you, hyung?” Hanbin asks, finally breaking the silence.  

“You can do whatever you want to me, Hanbin.”

They kiss, one last time, with only the moon as witness of their love. If it were up to Hao, he’d scream it at the top of his lungs, so everyone in the world knows. But for now, this is theirs to keep.

“I love you,” Hao whispers against his lips once they break apart.

“I love you just as much as you love me,” Hanbin responds.

And isn’t that the most beautiful thing he could have said? Because it’s always been like that for them. They’re equals, in this loving each other affair. If Hanbin gives, Hao gives back just as much. If Hao loves, Hanbin loves just as much. Not more. There’s no more for them. What they have, what they are, is already everything.

“Don’t take this off,” Hanbin whispers, lightly touching the necklace around Hao’s neck.

“I never will,” Hao promises, placing one last tender kiss on Hanbin’s lips.

“See you soon hyung”

“See you soon Hanbinnie.”

________________________ 

Fujian, 2017

Hao cries the whole morning. This place has come to be his home. Actually, the more he thinks about it, this place has been the only home he’s ever had.

He can’t sleep the entire flight, anticipation making him restless. His leg won’t stop bouncing and, by the time the plane lands, his fingers are bitten raw, which is something that’s never happened before. His hands and fingers are his tools; he must always take good care of them, but today it’s an exception.

Fujian looks the same and different at the same time. It’s been years since he last visited, never feeling homesick over a place that never really felt like home.

Today, he feels weird, incredibly weird. He’s not unhappy about being here, but he’s not happy either. It’s hard to understand. It might be indifference, he doesn’t know. What he knows is that this is just temporary, not forever.

His grandparents are a different story. They look so old and fragile, just skin and bones. Despite this, the light on their eyes has not dimmed. They’ve always loved each other deeply; Hao knows this since a very young age, has always noticed.

He wants the same for himself and Hanbin — to be together until they’re old and wrinkly, until they can barely stand and need a prop to walk, until one of them dies and the other follows right after.

It’s a crazy thought to have at seventeen, he knows that, but he’s never claimed to be normal. Love has rotted his brain.

Hao knows that’s what’s going to happen with his grandparents. Neither can live without each other. Suddenly he feels very regretful about the whole fit he threw about coming back here. His grandparents need them, need their only daughter. And he’s pretty sure she neds them as well. For him a year it’s nothing, for them, it can be everything.

He's unpacking when he finds a little present left there by Hanbin.

It’s a simple note. Just a doodle of a hamster and a panda holding hands, captioned with We’re not apart if you have my heart, and a little heart.

He cries.

________________________

Fujian, 2018

It’s the first time they’ve spent their birthdays apart.

It’s rough for Hao, not being by Hanbin’s side on the day he turns seventeen. Still, the least he can do is keep their traditions, even if they’re not in the same place.

He waits until the clock strikes twelve to call him. It’s not presumptuous to think that Hanbin will be awake waiting for his call. Hao knows him.

Hanbin picks up on the first ring. “Hyung,” he greets, breathless, as if he just ran a marathon.

“Hanbinnie,” Hao greets, savoring his voice. If he concentrates hard enough, he can imagine Hanbin’s right by his side, breathing in his ear and not through a phone. “Happy birthday, my love.” The pet name escapes his lips, unplanned. Blood rushes to his face, but he doesn’t regret it. Hanbin is his love.

His mom has asked numerous times whether they are boyfriends, which is understandable, considering they basically act as such. Hao and Hanbin have never talked about it, since there’s no need. They’re each other’s love. That’s the only label they’ll ever need. 

Hanbin stays silent for a while, ragged breathing filling the quiet. Hao hears him sniffle. “Say it again,” he requests, voice breaking.

“My love. My only love,” Hao repeats. Hanbin’s sniffles grow louder, and Hao’s own eyes start to water. His chest aches. They should be together right now. “Are you crying?”

It’s a dumb question, Hao knows, but he needs confirmation. Needs to know that Hanbin’s hurting as much as he is right now. They love equally, they hurt equally, it’s their equilibrium. It’s kind of a sick thought, he can recognize as much, but he finds some comfort in it.

“Yes, I am,” Hanbin admits. “I wish you were here right now. I wish you could have said that to my face hyung. I don’t want to spend my birthday without you ever again.”

 “Me neither.” It feels like the natural order of the world has been disrupted by him not being there. It’s the first time in eight years. “I’ll be there for the next one, I swear.” Hao has his whole future planned already. He hopes things go the right way, but even if they don’t, he’ll be there.

“I believe you hyung,” Hanbin says, sighing into the phone. “I’ll be waiting.”

________________________ 

More often than not, they fall asleep while video calling. Hao tries to keep his eyes open as long as possible after a tiring day at school, rejoicing in the precious minutes they get to be with each other, even if it’s just through a phone screen.

His mother doesn’t mention it, but he knows it’s making a dent in her bank account. He’ll be rich someday so she can retire and live the life she deserves.

On one of those countless nights, Hao can’t fall asleep, nervous about a difficult exam. He’s tried everything, but it’s fruitless. Hanbin fell asleep a few hours ago, leaving Hao wide awake in the silence of the night.

Time eludes him, but everything is pitch dark. The only thing illuminating his room is the moonlight filtering through the window.

Unexpectedly, his phone rings, startling him. It’s Hanbin.

Hanbinnie ♡ (03:13): Look outside, hyung.

Why is he awake? More intriguingly, how does he even know Hao is awake?

Me (03:13): why are u awake

The phone rings again, this time, a call. Hao picks up immediately, no need to check the caller ID. He knows it's Hanbin. “Why are you awake?”

“Because you’re awake,” comes Hanbin’s immediate reply. As if that explains anything.

“How did you even know I was awake?”

 “I know everything about you, hyung. Don’t you know everything about me as well?” he whispers. Hao does. “Look outside,” Hanbin insists. Hao gets out of bed, pushes aside the curtain, and looks outside. Oh. So that’s what Hanbin wanted him to see. It’s a full moon tonight, so big and beautiful, casting its soft glow all over. “Do you see?”

“Yeah.”

“We might be far away, but right now we’re looking at the same sky,” Hanbin remarks. Strangely, knowing that they’re doing the same thing makes him feel closer to Hanbin, as if the thousand miles separating them have momentarily disappeared. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” It’s no secret. Sometimes, like tonight, it feels like he’s missing half of his soul.

“Good luck tomorrow. But you don’t need it. You’re Zhang Hao, after all,” Hanbin adds, small chuckle in his voice.

Hao feels his cheeks flush. “Shut up,” he says, chuckling too. His earlier worries seem insignificant now, all thanks to Hanbin. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

________________________

 Graduation day is hard. But that’s to be expected.

Hanbin’s was last week. His mother recorded every single moment and then sent it to Hao. To say that he cried while watching it is an understatement. He’s so proud of his Hanbinnie, of everything he’s achieved. Not even his own accomplishments make him feel this way.

Hao tried to keep his composure when he video called Hanbin later that afternoon, but it was nearly impossible. They both ended up weeping on camera. Same old, though. They’re just two very sentimental guys.

Hao should have been there, but he wasn’t and he needs to come to terms with it. He’s been getting kind of sick of pitying himself lately.

Easier said than done, though. Today is his turn and he honestly doesn’t want to be here without Hanbin. He almost didn’t come, but his mom practically dragged him to the school by the ear. He knows he’s been acting like a spoiled, whiny kid, but he can’t help it.

Hao’s music club teacher asked him to play the violin at the ceremony, and although he considered saying no, he knows he can’t do that. If he did, he knows Hanbin would take the first plane to China to come and kill him. Metaphorically.

He doesn’t want to get scolded by him. There’s something about it that makes it even worse than getting scolded by his mother. He’s experienced it once before. At the beginning of the school year, a single music club meeting was enough to convince him to never step foot into that classroom again. He hated it, as there was no Taerae, and he was met with just a bunch of random people who kept giving him nasty stares. As if he wanted to steal their spot or something.

He didn’t know how to make them understand that no, he's not interested in that. The only one he’s interested in is miles away from here. And he happens to be the person who metaphorically drags him back to the club with not very nice words.

He does make one friend though — Chen Kuan Jui. He can’t take credit for it, as Kuanjui was the first one to approach him. Though Hao was initially wary and closed off, he eventually warmed up to the boy. They’re alike in many ways, and as the school year comes to a close, Hao’s happy he’s able to call him friend. It would have been much harder without him.

So, he plays the violin at the ceremony. It’s the first time since he started playing again that Hanbin is not in the audience watching him perform. He finds himself searching for him among the sea of people, and even though he knows he won’t find him, a sense of disappointment still lingers.

It’s stupid. This whole situation is stupid and ridiculous and he’s fed up with it.

When he opens up to Kuanjui about his feelings, his friend tells him he’s going through the five stages of grief, just slightly out of order. That’s why he’s been so angry and irritable lately. The thing is, he’s not angry; he’s just very tired. He wants his Hanbin. He’s selfish, egoistical and he knows it. It’s part of his charm.

But school is over forever, and that means one thing: the countdown begins. He’ll be back in Korea soon.

________________________

Fujian, 2019

As soon as Hao arrived in China, he had meticulously planned out his entire future. He’d finish high school here, apply to a bunch of Korean universities, pray that he and Hanbin got accepted to the same one, and move back just in time to start the school year in March.

The beginning of the new year brings a not-so-unexpected turn of events. Over the months, he’s witnessed his grandparents’ health slowly deteriorating, so it comes as no shock when his grandma dies three weeks before February ends.

He can’t leave his mom alone on her grief, so he stays. He’s already waited a long time to go back to Korea, a few more months won’t hurt him. His attitude from a few months back has completely shifted. There are more important things to worry about at the moment that him wanting to be near Hanbin.

It’s not surprising either when his grandpa dies exactly thirty days after his grandma.

They cry a lot, him and his mom. It’s sad, yet their passing brings a sense of peace and tranquility. It was meant to happen one way or another, sooner or later. Hao’s glad they’re reunited now, didn’t spend that long missing each other.

Hao grew very close to them, something he never got to experience as a kid. Throughout the year, he helped his grandma take to her plants, he helped his grandpa feed the three chickens he still had left. Him and his mom took them on trips to see the pretty views of the Fujian River, slowly walking them around the city while they marveled at all the things they had never seen before.

It's a time he will forever hold close to his heart. It would have been nice to grow up with them, to have someone else to call his family. It’s not that his mom isn’t enough, but oftentimes it was lonely, just the two of them.

His time here has been healing.  He can now recognize that he needed some type of closure, which is something he never got when he first left.

Hao even got to talk to his dad, who, to no one’s surprise, is still just as bad as he was before. He’s always known that his mom made the right choice back then. His life, their lives, wouldn’t have been so good had they stayed here. It’s nice to get confirmation of that, so the seed of doubt never even has the chance to take root in his mind. Not that it’s ever happened, but still.

Somehow his view about this place is not bad anymore, and for that, he’s glad.

He gets a few extra months to arrange everything for their return to Korea. His mother decided to go back with him, as she no longer has any ties keeping her in China. Hao’s happy she made that choice. Being away from her is not something he wants. It’s always been the two of them. 

They’re going back in June, a few days before Hanbin’s eighteenth birthday. He promised he’d be there, after all. They could’ve gone back much sooner, but Hao has already planned a little surprise, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to see Hanbin as soon as he arrived. He wants to make this day special for his love, especially since he missed it last year.

Finally, things are back on track.

________________________ 

Cheonan, 2019

The day has finally come. They’re back. It’s been over a year and a half since Hao last saw Hanbin, so it’s safe to say he’s practically vibrating with the urge to run laps around the city in search of him. But he can’t, not yet.

They moved back into their old house just two days ago. It’s crazy, how every single memory associated with this place comes rushing back to him as soon as he steps foot into his living room.

Every corner seems to hold pieces of his life. The couch, where Hanbin gifted him the dolphin necklace so many years ago. Hao still wears it every day, even if it’s lost its gem, even if it’s lost its shine. It remains his most precious possession.

If he looks to the right, he can see a vivid memory of little them rushing down the stairs, running late to school, while his mom tells them to be careful. If he peers into the kitchen, he can picture the countless dinners the three of them have shared over the years. It’s overwhelming, but in a good way.

He now understands why his mom didn’t want anyone else to live here while they were gone. She kept paying the rent for over a year.

“We’ll be back someday. And if I’m not able to, then you will. I want it to be just as we left it,” she argued when Hao questioned her decision. In his mind, it seemed like a waste of money. And maybe it was. But he gets it now, why she did it.

Everything is exactly where they left it. And everything is clean. He knows Hanbin and his mom came over twice a month to keep the place in good condition, but it’s not just that. This place feels lived in. Loved. Warm and comfortable. Even though it was empty for so long.

This is where he spent the happiest years of his life. Love is stored in every crack and crevice, in every dirt stain on the wall, every fiber of the carpet. Memories of a happy life, of feeling loved and cared for, of loving and caring in return fill this place. He loves this house and this house loves him back.

Something catches his eye — an old picture frame, slightly crooked, resting on the wall. It’s a photo of him and Hanbin. He doesn’t know how old they were, probably ten or eleven. They stand beneath a cherry blossom tree, full in bloom. Petals are all around them, and Hanbin looks like he’s about to sneeze, while Hao gazes at him, about to laugh, eyes full of love. That’s how long he’s loved Hanbin for.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until his mom dabs his tears away with a soft tissue. There’s a glimmer in her eyes, Hao realizes, and it’s new. It wasn’t there when they were back in China.

This is her place too. She also feels a sense of belonging here, he realizes. This is the life they built on their own, not the life that was given to them. His mom is so brave, he’ll admire her forever.

“We’re finally home mom.”

“Yes son, we are.”

________________________ 

Naturally, he can’t wait to see Hanbin, so he sneaks out the afternoon before his birthday just to catch a glimpse of him.

Hanbin’s mom opened a café not that long ago and Hanbin has been covering the afternoon shifts until they make enough money to hire some additional help. That’ll be soon, considering the café is packed to the brim. Hard not to when the barista is so damn cute, Hao thinks proudly. Cute and mine.

He doesn’t even care about the handful of girls trying to flirt with him, coyly giggling as they place their orders. The smile Hanbin gives them may seem warm and inviting, but Hao knows him well. That’s just his customer service smile, nothing more. The real one is reserved to those he loves.

He feels a little bit like a creep, standing outside while peering through the window, but he can’t stop. His Hanbinnie looks so different.

He’s grown taller, towering over everyone. Still not as tall as Hao though, if his calculations are correct. The perfect height to tuck his face on the crook of Hao’s neck, he thinks, feeling his cheeks heat up at the thought of being so close to this beautiful boy. 

Although some baby fat still lingers on his cheeks, making him look undeniably cute, his jawline has become more defined. Hao wants to run his hands through it, feel the rough texture of his stubble growing.

His hair is very long, longer than it’s ever been before, probably because there are no more school rules to follow. It’s also been dyed a rich chocolate brown, making his features look infinitely soft. It suits him, makes him look even kinder.

Hao just stares at him from afar, begging the tears not to fall. Crying on the street would be embarrassing, though it wouldn’t be the first time. His chest aches, his hands itch with the urge to touch any part of Hanbin he can reach. He wants to run, to scream his name at the top of his lungs. But he can’t.

He has a mission to accomplish today, or well, tonight.

________________________

It’s nearly midnight, and he’s been pacing outside Hanbin’s door for at least fifteen minutes. He got here earlier than intended, anticipation making him restless. He’s nervous now, very nervous if he’s being honest.

He loses track of time, lost in his thoughts. Hao’s about to do something really crazy, but Hanbin is just as crazy as him, so it will be fine. He thinks. Hopes.

Hao snaps out of it when his phone pings loudly. He hurriedly grabs it from his back pocket, muttering a small shit when he realizes that it’s already past twelve. So much for having an elaborate plan.

Hanbinnie ♡ (12:01): Hyung, you’re one minute late :(

Hanbinnie ♡ (12:01): Don’t you love me anymore?

Clearly, Hanbin was waiting for his call; it’s their tradition.

Me (12:01): sorry love i fell asleep i’ll call u now

That’s a lie, he’s not going to call him. Instead, he firmly knocks on Hanbin’s front door, so he can hear it all the way to his room.

Hanbinnie ♡ (12:02): Wait hyung, someone is knocking. Be right back. ♡

This is it, now or never. His heart is beating so fast he’s sure it’s dangerous and he really, really feels like he’s about to puke.

The door is yanked open, and Hanbin stands there, breathless from running down the stairs and just as beautiful as Hao remembers him.

At first, he doesn’t register who is in front of him, but when he does, he closes the door right in Hao’s face. Not at all what he was expecting.

“Hanbin?” Hao asks, softly knocking again. “Are you there?”

“Go away. Leave me alone. You’re not real,” he half-screams, voice sounding frantic. “I’m crazy, hallucinating Hao-hyung.”

Hao can’t help but laugh at the expense of Hanbin’s little crisis. He’s cute. “Open up Hanbin. It’s really me.”                      

“I don’t believe you,” he replies stubbornly. Hao knocks again, but nothing happens. He needs to take matters into his own hands or this isn’t getting anywhere anytime soon.

“Sung Hanbin, open that door right now or I’ll start kicking it in about five seconds and your mom will be angry when she sees it all ruined!” He will not do any of that, but it seems to do the trick, as Hanbin slowly opens again, revealing only his eyes through the small gap.

“Hao hyung, is it really you?” he asks, voice small. “I’m not crazy, right?”

Hao reassures him, “Yes baby, it’s me.”

Without hesitation, Hanbin throws himself into Hao’s arms. It’s so sudden it takes Hao by surprise, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the soft grass with a loud thud, Hanbin landing on top of him.

“Oh my god hyung, are you okay?” Hanbin frets over him, touching everywhere — his head, his face, his shoulders, his arms. “Are you hurt? Let me check.”

Hao isn’t, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he enjoys the feeling of Hanbin’s hands all over him, something he’s been without for far too long. Never again. He’ll sew himself to Hanbin’s side if that’s what it takes.

Finally, Hanbin seems to deem him fine, as he goes back to just staring at him in wonder, as if Hao might disappear if he so much blinks. The soft glow of the streetlights forms a gentle halo around his figure, and if anyone told Hao this is an angel, he’d believe it. It’s so reminiscent of the last time he saw Hanbin that he feels choked up with emotions. He’s so incredibly beautiful.

“Is it really you hyung?” Hanbin softly whispers, fitting his palm against Hao’s cheek.

“It is,” Hao replies, turning his face and kissing his palm. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Hanbin wails so loudly the whole block can probably hear him, which is the exact same reaction Hao had yesterday when he got home after seeing him. They’re two halves of the same coin, sometimes the same, sometimes different.

Hao helps Hanbin lie down and fits himself onto his side, hugging him so tightly he can feel Hanbin’s bones popping. One day he’ll find a way to merge them into one, but for now, this is enough.

They stay there in silence, comfortable and content, neither suggests moving for a while. Hanbin has long stopped crying, faint sniffles the only remnant. Hao, however, starts shivering, the cold of the floor seeping through his bones. He tries to suppress it, just so they can remain here for a while longer, but Hanbin notices immediately. It’s always been fruitless, trying to hide anything from him.

“Let’s go inside hyung. You’re freezing.”

Hao hums in agreement and allows himself to be pulled up by Hanbin. He’s strong, stronger than Hao expected, so the sudden movement makes him stumble into Hanbin’s arms as soon as he’s standing.

Hanbin secures his hands around Hao’s waist in a way that sends his heart into frenzy. It’s such an innocent touch, yet it’s overwhelmingly intimate. No one has ever touched him there but Hanbin. He shivers, and this time, it’s not the cold causing it.

Hao was right on his earlier assumption. Hanbin is indeed shorter than him, but not by much. He’s the perfect height to kiss his forehead without having to bend down, which is what he does. Hanbin smiles, whiskers out, eyes sparkling like the stars. Hao’s only seen him through a grainy phone screen in the last year and a half; it feels like a dream being this close to him.

“Hi,” Hao says, a little bit breathless.

“Hi hyung,” Hanbin responds, planting a loud smooch on Hao’s cheek. “Let’s go inside.”

Hanbin takes him by the hand and guides him into the house. Everything is just as Hao remembers it —nothing has changed. Absolutely nothing. It’s as though time has stood still. He could easily pretend like he never left. It’s comforting.

This is also his home, Hao realizes, has been since he was ten. He was wrong earlier when he said his mom was his only family. Hanbin’s family is his family too. Photos of them are scattered everywhere — on the staircase, the coffee table, and even the kitchen counter.

There are even photos of Hao alone. The one that catches his eyes is from a violin concerto he did a few years back. It was impossible for his mom to attend, so Hanbin’s mom went instead. She stayed the entire time.

After Hao finished performing, she waited for him backstage with a massive bouquet of flowers and a big, warm smile that reminded him so much of Hanbin’s own. He felt like crying back then, mostly because he thought he’d be alone, yet she was there for him. He vividly recalls how one of the photographers instructed him to pose with his “mom” for a picture. Hao was about to correct him, to tell him that no, she wasn’t his mom, but before he could say anything, she hugged him tightly, beaming with pride, as if he were her own son.

So yes, they’re also family. This thought makes his heart feel full of love. What he’s about to do, he knows it’s the right thing.

“Do you want some tea?” Hanbin offers, breaking him out of his trance. Hao nods, following him to the kitchen.

“When did you get here?” Hanbin asks as he starts boiling water.

Hao hops up and sits on the counter, swinging his legs casually. “Three days ago.”

The look of indignation on Hanbin’s face is almost comical. “And we’re seeing each other just now?!?”

Hao laughs. He gets the feeling. He would have run to Hanbin the second he set foot in this city if his heart had been in charge. “Well, I actually saw you this afternoon,” he confesses, feeling a little bit bashful. “I went to your mom’s café and just stared at you through the window like some crazy stalker.”

“Would you believe me if I said I saw you?” Hanbin whispers, as if he’s sharing a secret. “I convinced myself I was hallucinating, though.”

“I believe you,” Hao replies. The thing is, he actually believes him. They do have some crazy telepathy; that’s undeniable, so Hanbin sensing him around is not something that surprises him. He’s pretty sure he could spot him on a sea of people in less than a second. But onto more important business. “Can we kiss now?” he asks, pouting.

Hanbin closes the gap, slipping between Hao’s spread thighs and resting his hands on Hao’s waist. That touch alone sets his heart aflame. “I thought you’d never ask,” he quips, mischievous glint in his eyes. So much for the shy boy he’s known for most of his life.

They kiss, but this time is not like any other. This is new. It’s messy and desperate, all teeth and tongue. Hanbin’s hands roam freely, exploring every inch of Hao’s body — his waist, his chest, his back, his neck. Hao can’t help but moan loudly into Hanbin’s mouth when he squeezes one of his thighs. It should be embarrassing, just as it was the first time, but he couldn’t care less now. He’s desperate for Hanbin’s touch.

Things are heading into dangerous territory, and he still has one mission to accomplish tonight before this can escalate any further. If it does. He’s happy doing whatever Hanbin wants.

“The water,” Hao reminds him as an excuse to break the kiss, which is very valid considering it’s been boiling for a while.

“Right,” Hanbin replies, breathless. He’s flushed, eyes unfocused, and his shirt is rumpled around his neck. Hao knows he’s probably not faring any better.

When Hanbin drops some fresh mint leaves on a teacup, Hao almost cries. It might not seem like a big deal, but it is. No one here drinks mint tea, only Hao. There’s no reason for them to have a big stack of the herb.

Hanbin notices Hao’s gaze and decides to share his secret. “I’ve been buying mint leaves every month waiting for you to come back, hyung,” he confesses, breaking Hao’s heart a little bit. How many bags must Hanbin have thrown away over the years, waiting for this moment?

It’s time. He has to do it.

Hao starts feeling a bit nervous about what’s about to come. The small box in his back pocket feels heavy, and doubt begins to seep through his mind. He can’t help it; he’s an overthinker at heart, even though he knows his fears are unfounded. He doesn’t know where this burst of insecurity is coming from, but the questions won’t stop clouding his mind.

“What are you thinking about?” Hanbin interrupts him before he can spiral out of control. “I can literally see the smoke coming out of your head hyung. Out with it.”

He’s waited so long for this moment, it’s not time to chicken out. As Hanbin said, out with it. He has to see this through, whether it ends well or not.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Hao begins. “You know words have never been my strong point, but I’ll try. Remember our promise back then?”

Hanbin nods, eyes full of anticipation. “Yes hyung. I could never forget. I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life. Well, maybe not my entire life. The past nine years would be more accurate,” he says with a little shy laugh, scratching the back of his head. He’s nervous too, which makes Hao feel slightly better about this whole ordeal.

He takes some time to gather his thoughts. Hanbin lets him, gives him the space he needs.

During his time without Hanbin, Hao had a lot of time for himself. He conjured many different scenarios; thought extensively about the words he’ll say to Hanbin once he got the chance to properly confess. Hell, he even prepared a little speech, even if only in his head.

Everything is out of the window the second he actually has to do it. All he wants to say is the pure, unfiltered truth. He supposes it’s better than a pre-made speech. If he were in Hanbin's shoes, he’d very much like honesty.

Hanbin squeezes his hand in encouragement, and it’s a funny thing how that’s all he needs to start pouring his heart out.

“As soon as I met you, I knew you’d become someone special for me. No one had ever treated me with as much kindness as you did,” Hao begins, revisiting memories that might be old, but still feel fresh in his mind. “I was very scared. A kid notoriously bad at making friends in a foreign country is a bad combination. But then you came into my life, always generous and friendly.”

Hanbin is seriously crying right now, but there’s not a trace of sadness in his eyes. Instead, he’s smiling with so much adoration and fondness. He’s recalling the same memories as Hao, it seems.

“You’ve taught me so many things, Hanbin. You’ve helped me become a better person; you’ve made me feel loved,” Hao has always wondered if he even knew what love was before Hanbin. His mom loves him, yes, there’s no denying that, but was he ever loved by someone who wasn’t his family before? He doesn’t think so.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” Hao confesses, words coming from the bottom of his heart. “I’ll never love anyone the way I love you, and I don’t want to, either. You’re my first and my last. I want… I want to be your first and last too,” he adds, whispering the last part and looking away from Hanbin’s eyes, suddenly afraid of his reaction.

“Hyung,” Hanbin says, his voice trembling with emotion, as he gently cradles Hao's face in his hands and presses their foreheads together. His long lashes are clumped with tears, giving them a delicate, spider-like appearance. He is so lovely. “I said it once and I’ll say it again, I love you just as much as you love me. I can’t imagine a future without you by my side. I want you forever.”

Together forever. First and last. That’s what they are to each other. Asking Hanbin to marry him doesn’t seem so crazy now that Hao thinks about it.

Hao had imagined this moment would happen under different circumstances, on a different setting, perhaps on a picnic date by the lake while watching the sunset or on a warm night, bathed in moonlight. Not in Hanbin's kitchen at God knows what time, surrounded by dirty dishes and the smell of mint filling the air.

But frankly, right here, right now, is as good as any of those places, if not better. This place, it means something to them, it’s where they’ve spent most of their lives together. He’s about to add another precious memory to this already precious place.

“I have a present for you,” Hao breaks the silence, clumsy fingers gliding towards the back pocket of his jeans. The fabric rustles softly as he searches for the little velvet box he’s kept there for the most part of the day. He retrieves it with a gentle tug, fingers curling around its edges. “Open it,” he instructs, placing it on Hanbin’s trembling hands.

About a year ago, walking down the streets of Fujian, Hao stumbled upon a small jewelry shop tucked at the end of an alleyway. To this day, he can’t explain what lured him to go in, but he did. Behind the counter was a very old man, almost as old as his grandfather.

“Welcome,” he greeted the newcomer. “Are you looking for something specific?”

Hao wasn’t. He had no intention of buying anything, no money either. He noticed at first glance that everything was rather pricey, and he wasn’t about to ask his mom for such a big quantity of money.

“Not really,” he replied, but he wasn’t paying attention to the old man's words. He was mesmerized by the sight of a beautiful ring. It’s made of silver, light blue gemstone right in the middle, framed by two half-moons. “Oh, that’s so pretty.”

“But not for you, am I right?” The old man’s voice held a hint of amusement as he peered at Hao with a knowing glint in his eye. It was the kind of look born from years of experience. He must have seen this exact same scene countless times before.

“Not for me,” Hao agreed. For Hanbin. It would look so pretty against his long, pale fingers. He gets an idea, but scrapes it off his mind immediately. He can’t do something like that, can he?

“Everything here is made by my own two hands, and every design is unique,” the shopkeeper mentioned, trying to sell his pieces. He didn’t need to do so, as Hao would have bought the ring without hesitation if he had the means. “You won’t find something like this anywhere else.”

“I don’t have any money though.”

The old man fell silent for a moment, pondering over his next words. “I give you three months, kid. Come back within that time and it’ll be waiting for you,” he offered.

“But why?” Hao asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Don’t ask questions. Just take my generosity and go,” the shopkeeper replied with a cryptic smile.

To say he was confused was an understatement. With newfound determination, he took on as many part-time jobs as he could find. He went back exactly three months later, with enough money on his bank account to buy anything he wanted.

He made the right choice, judging by Hanbin’s expression. “A ring?” he asks in disbelief. “Hyung…” he sounds breathless, fingers barely touching the present, almost afraid of ruining its beauty. “If this is what I think it is… then yes. If it isn’t then please forget I said anything,” he hastily adds, as if the true nature of this gift wasn’t evident.

Hao just stares at him, completely enamored. He’s perfect. And even if he wasn’t, in Hao’s eyes he is, will forever be. “Hyung, say something,” Hanbin urges him. Right, he hasn’t answered yet.

“It is what you think it is,” Hao clarifies, and the relief is palpable on Hanbin’s face. It’s crazy how he still gets insecure sometimes, as if Hao’s obsession with him isn’t obvious. “But not now. After we graduate. Then I’ll ask you properly. So, this,” he points to the ring, “is a promise. From me to you. That as long as I live, I’ll never leave your side again,” he says, sliding the ring into Hanbin’s finger. It fits perfectly. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

Hanbin’s eyes shimmer with emotion. “You’re stuck with me forever too, hyung,” he declares, sealing their promise with a sweet and chaste kiss. “I want you to know that if you had asked me to get married right now my answer would have been yes,” he admits, laying his heart bare for Hao to see.

“I know. Me too.” That’s one of the reasons he didn’t ask. If it were up to him, they’d be married tomorrow. “It’s wise to wait though. In a few years we’ll be rich or something and then get married somewhere in the world.”

“I accept then, hyung,” Hanbin says with a cheeky smile. They close the distance at the same time, brushing their lips, sweet and slow.

“I love you, Hanbinnie,” Hao says, once again.

“I love you just as much as you love me, hyung.”

________________________

Somewhere in the world, 2025.

They do get married.