Work Text:
Hanbin would say it all the time— that he'd follow Hao to the end of the world. That the world would end with them basking in each other's presence.
What he didn't realize, was that his words be taken so literally.
Blaring sirens break through the windows, just as deafening through the layers of bricks and glass. Everytime he unlocks his phone he gets locations for the nearest safety bunkers and the routes there.
Hao's sitting on the couch as the TV gives instructions on how to reach safety. Hanbin doesn't understand why Hao's so nervous when he's right there. What could hurt him when he's with him?
“We're supposed to leave tonight,” Hao bends his neck to look at Hanbin in the doorway. “It'll probably hit within two days.”
He's scratching at his skin, gnawing at his bottom lip, and yet there isn't so much as a bit of doubt in Hao's eyes. “Do you think we'll survive?”
Hanbin walks towards the couch in the middle of the room and stands next to the arm of the couch, mere inches away from where Hao's sitting.
It's a silly question. Hao and his habit of worrying. Hanbin thinks he's never going to get enough of him.
“Of course we will. Our bodies might not, but Hanbin and Hao? We're forever.”
He separates Hao's hand from where it's clawing at his wrist, and intertwines it with his instead. His lips press against Hao's scalp and forever smells like Hao's lavender shampoo. It tastes like Hao's lips on his and Hanbin thinks that maybe, the world isn't so cruel.
“What if only one of us survives?”
“I'll always come back for you. You would too, I know.”
It's addicting, Hanbin thinks, to have a love so profound it overcomes all ends. After all, what does death mean to forever?
What does death mean to Hanbin and Hao who have, in spite of everything, chosen each other again and again?
Hanbin thinks life's crueler than death. And yet, here he is, thriving. Life's a series of seasons, and after an ephemeral winter that seemed eternal, came an everlasting spring.
Hao's standing now, the TV's turned off and there's a look in his eyes Hanbin has seen a million times yet not enough. Hao presses kisses to his knuckles and it's the best feeling one could experience. To have the love of your life. To have someone to call yours.
“Even though I'm scared, I'm glad it's you,” Hao smiles through a film of pink.
Hanbin tugs them forward, towards the door. “Let's get ice cream for breakfast.”
Hanbin puts on his own sneakers and jacket, and bends down to tie Hao's shoelaces. The moment their hands are unglued, Hao's hands begin to brush through his hair. Like they can't be separated for even a second.
When they enter the convenience store, it's buzzing with people. Everyone runs around, picking up bulks of food to last God knows how long. There's an air of panic and in the midst of it all, there's love. Someone is holding up the cart for an elderly woman, and a man pays for someone's meal. Hanbin thinks humans aren't as bad as they're made out to be. That at the end of the day, all we want is to love and be loved.
They're standing in front of the ice cream freezer and Hao picks up two cups of strawberry flavored ice cream. Hanbin simply nods as a reply and then before he knows it, they're sitting under a tree and the sun on his skin and the weight of Hao's head on his shoulder feels unreal.
The Hanbin of the past would never believe himself to be deserving of this— of Hao. The Hanbin of now is eating ice cream with Hao from the same spoon, the other one laying forgotten in Hao's lap.
He presses a kiss to hao's lips, as soft and sweet as the ice cream under his tongue. Life is horrible, a tornado, but in the midst of it blooms a flower.
It's 1 pm, when they come back to their apartment, and they sit next to each other sipping love from the cups of their lips. Hanbin presses his lips to each of Hao's fingertips, then his eyes, his cheeks and finally his lips. If this is going to be the last time they feel each other in this life, let it be with marks of the other.
Life is beautiful, and so is death, and so is Hao and so is Hanbin himself. The thing is, everything is beautiful when you have the eye for it.
Hanbin pities his past self, who spent so long worrying about what other thought of him or hurting for what he thought of himself. It's not that deep, Hanbin realizes, to live is to love.
To gleam with an aura that wraps around you, warm and cozy, like coming home to Hao after a long day.
For lunch, they have chicken. Grease and crumbs surround them as Hanbin rubs his hands on Hao's pants and he whines. Go wash your hands, he exclaims but when Hanbin stands up, he tugs him back down. Don't leave, he breathes out. As if Hanbin ever could.
He fears his only regret in this life is not loving Hao sooner.
The sunset is a reminder that all things will end, but they will also begin again. As the sky is painted with oranges and pinks, soft like ice cream, Hao whispers, “Only look at me.”
As if Hanbin could ever look at anyone else.
As evening approaches, he sits with Hao at the dinner table and has pancakes for dinner, then ramen for dessert. He washes them down with more candied kisses . He needs enough to last him until his next life.
The world is a wonderful place, Hanbin's phone is still blaring that god awful PSA and Hao's eyes still hold the entire universe. It's a miracle— to still hold wonder in your eyes despite all that haunts you— or maybe it's more deliberate; maybe it's courage, or strength.
“I'll love you forever,” Hao lips part as an invitation, and who is Hanbin to deny him of anything? What Hao wants, he gets. If not, then Hanbin will get it for him.
The feeling of his lips on Hao's is so familiar, yet something he's never felt before. Life tastes so sweet with Hao, like cotton candy melting on his tongue. Everything seems so easy.
Hao's hands are tangled in the hair at his nape, tugging at his hair like the warmth of spring after a cruel winter.
Hanbin tightens his hold on Hao's waist, because even though he knows Hao's his, there's still fear. Irrational, yes but fear nonetheless.
When they pull apart, Hanbin's reflection in Hao's pupils is gorgeous. He knows the real Hanbin is too. He knows now.
Hao's beauty is worth writing poems about, singing songs for. It's worth rememberance after the world ends and beyond.
“Hao, I think— I think you'll haunt me forever,” he heaves. To some forever might seem like a stretch, but to them, it's a reality. As true as the sunset and the blue sky and the beauty of death.
Hao laughs. It sounds better than all the birds and pianos and violins in the world.
When they sit down on their bed, Hao's phone between them, a video of Yujin crying and laughing at the same time playing at the small screen, Hanbin finds love. Love sounds like Gyuvin yelling Kim Ricky in the background of the video and Hao giggling at every little thing.
Their jaws ache from laughing, stomachs full of sweets and adoration, and Hanbin thinks he wouldn't mind the world ending tomorrow, because he's cherished all that he has.
If Hanbin could do so, he'd make the sound of their laughter, loud and bubbly, the track of their lives.
They don't sleep that night, because why would he need to dream when he has Hao right here? What could a dream have that he doesn't have right now with Hao laughing into his clavicle?
At 11 pm, Hao's first violin solo for Hanbin plays in the living room as two souls— or maybe one— twirl in the living room. Hao's hand on his shoulder, Hao's waist under his fingers, it's radiant. Like everything else he's done with Hao.
They dance around, the thumping of their feet matching the beating of their heart, synchronous. They are mirrors of each other after all.
Hao's fingers tremble and Hanbin feels the vibrations travel under his skin and through his vessels. Hanbin feels it like it's his own body. And in a way, it is.
He smiles at the Chinese, small and mellow. “Still scared, my love?” he breathes out.
Hao chuckles, face blooming with pink, and yet it holds something like fear underneath. “I don't wanna lose you.”
“We won't lose each other, okay? I'll promise you that.”
This, Hanbin tells himself, will not end in tragedy. He won't let it. It will not end with him and Hao apart. Because the world might not be saccharine skies and radiant nights but it's not going to be so cruel to take Hao away from him. He knows it won't.
“Hanbin, lets never forget each other, okay?”
“I could never forget something that has brought me so much joy, we'll get through this.”
Hanbin is just as scared, but when has fear done anything other than bringing more fear? So maybe, he'll focus on the love of his life instead.
“And if we don't?”
“Then I'll see you in my next life.”
And the I love you goes unsaid, because his actions have said it a million times before his mouth has had the opportunity to.
Love finds you, he believes, but you have to find love too. And there is love everywhere. In the singing of the breeze and the glimmering of the stars. The world is a love poem, chanting I love you like a mantra. And you have to chant it back.
I love you too, Hanbin responds as he kisses their intertwined hands. Forever and beyond.