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There was a time, about three or four years ago, when Hanbin was still new to the entertainment industry and just beginning his training to debut as an idol that he genuinely believed he still had a chance to meet the love of his life.
He had heard some stories; fateful encounters in training rooms, long practices overseas, and coincidental meetings through overlapping schedules. Some of his older hyungs ended up dating other trainees or even staff from the same company. A few of his noonas married their back-up dancers.
At heart, Hanbin was a romantic. He was a firm believer that when he met his soulmate, he’d just know. Sure, he’d had crushes here and there, on classmates or people he met at dance competitions, but he knew those were just fleeting attractions. Nothing compared to the real thing, or so he believed.
Months passed during Hanbin’s first year as a trainee, and despite being surrounded by people, he only ever saw them in a friendly light. As the stress of training built up day by day, watching fellow trainees come and go, he began to feel the pressure of waiting for his own turn to leave. Slowly, the hope he once had of meeting someone special faded. Whether he was at Cube or anywhere else, Hanbin realised that in this industry, there was little chance of building anything stable or long-lasting.
Some days were worse than others, when the stress became too much to handle. Having a few close friends helped, but even then, the tension inside him would still build up.
There was something a few trainees did, kept quiet and only shared behind closed doors. It wasn’t exactly illegal, but most definitely unethical and not the kind of thing they talked about openly. It was more about helping each other cope, a way to release some of the pressure they all faced. It was done out of trust and understanding.
They all knew it wasn’t about romance or feelings, they didn’t want anything more than friendship. But in an environment as small and isolated as theirs, friends helped friends in ways more than one. So, when Hanbin kissed one or even a few of them, he didn’t talk about it. It was just something they did to get by.
It’s not like there was anything wrong with it. Hanbin stayed good friends with most of them, even after he left and moved from one company to another.
When he joined Boys Planet, though, he didn’t plan on continuing the same pattern. Even though he spotted a few familiar faces, exchanging knowing smiles when they passed each other in the hallways, it felt too risky. With cameras everywhere, it wasn’t worth the chance, no matter how stressed he was.
Besides, something had shifted. Hanbin had a feeling that this time, he might have found his soulmate.
It only took a day for Hanbin to figure it out. Maybe it was confirmation bias, but who could blame him when his stomach was fluttering with butterflies every time he saw Yuehua Entertainment’s golden trainee, Zhang Hao?
Hanbin had met plenty of attractive people during his trainee years: doe-eyed, fair-skinned, long-legged, the whole package. But Zhang Hao was different, almost exceeding every expectation and making Hanbin reconsider what beauty really meant. Though, it wasn’t just Zhang Hao’s looks that drew him in, Hanbin wasn’t that shallow. No, it was something else entirely. Zhang Hao was just... incredibly cute.
Hanbin couldn’t help but feel amused the first time Zhang Hao waddled into their shared dorm, bundled up in a puffer jacket with sleepy eyes, looking like a little penguin. Hanbin’s heart practically melted as he thought, He’s soooo cuteeee... cutecutecutecute.
And then, Zhang Hao gently touched the injection scar on Hanbin’s right arm, casually mentioning that he had the same one. Don’t we all, Hanbin thought with a smile, amused at the idea. But he couldn’t help finding it adorable. If Zhang Hao wanted to believe they were matching, who was Hanbin to disagree?
When they’re both chosen as the centers for their respective groups and practice the signal song together, even when it’s exhausting and sweaty, Zhang Hao is still undeniably cute. Hanbin can’t help but notice the little things: the way Zhang Hao bites his lower lip when he’s focused, the way he whines when he almost trips, or how he playfully rubs his head against Hanbin’s shoulder just to tease him.
How is a 23-year-old man so ridiculously cute? Hanbin wonders, baffled, as he stands under the shower later that night.
It’s not like Hanbin hasn’t called others “cute” before. He’s used it affectionately for younger boys he feels protective over, or as a casual remark. But Zhang Hao’s cuteness is different. It makes Hanbin want to melt into a puddle or give in to anything Zhang Hao asks for. It’s a kind of softness that he can’t resist.
What baffles him even more is how much he wants Zhang Hao to stay this way. Adorably cute, but just for him. It doesn’t make sense, but Hanbin can’t help it. He’s completely drawn in.
The butterflies in Hanbin’s stomach keep growing the more he learns about Zhang Hao. With each new thing he discovers, Zhang Hao becomes even cuter, and Hanbin finds himself wanting him more. It doesn’t help that Zhang Hao seems just as happy to stick by his side, and Hanbin can see the way Zhang Hao preens whenever the other trainees tease them.
The laundry room is famous as the competition’s unofficial safe haven. It’s a blind spot where people sneak in to snack without getting caught, cry in private, or just complain. Everyone knows the unspoken rule: you only get 20 minutes in there to yourself.
Today, Hanbin takes his turn, slipping into the laundry room for a quiet moment alone. He doesn’t have any specific reason. No tears like the last time, when Zhang Hao found him here and told him he looked like clay (which was, of course, a very cute thing to say). This time, Hanbin just needs to sit. After writing his name and the time on the door, he settles in.
As he sits in the stillness, his mind wanders. He thinks about his family, who have always supported every decision he’s made. He hopes he can debut this time and make them proud. He thinks about his friends, many of whom are graduating soon, and wonders what his life would be like if he had chosen a non-idol path. And, of course, he thinks about Zhang Hao, how incredible it is to find someone who matches him so well, even in the middle of a damn idol survival show.
Speaking (or thinking) of the devil, here he comes. There’s a soft sound as the door knob twists, and Zhang Hao pops his head in. “Hanbin? I saw your name on the door.”
Hanbin almost stands, but Zhang Hao gestures for him to stay. “You can use the room, I just wanted to check if you’re okay. If you want to be alone, I can leave?”
Hanbin shakes his head, patting the floor next to him. “Come here, hyung.”
Zhang Hao settles down on the floor, hugging his jacket like a pillow. “Are you okay?”
Hanbin nods. “Just thinking. Reflecting, mostly.”
“About?”
“Everything. My family. How different my life would be if I chose another path. My friends.” He hesitates for a second. “And you.”
“Me?” Zhang Hao smiles softly. “What about me?”
Hanbin looks down at his fingers, fiddling with them nervously. He’s not entirely sure why, when he’s been comfortable with Zhang Hao lately. “I’m so thankful I met you. It’s hard to find someone who can match my pace. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing everything in life a little slow and other times, like I’m 50 years old,” he chuckles. “But with you, it feels different. We seem to have the same rhythm, and I feel good being around you.” He glances over at Zhang Hao. “I hope it’s the same for you?”
“Of course,” Zhang Hao says without hesitation. “I like that we’re compatible. I was surprised at first, like you said, it’s hard to meet someone who just gets you. But… it feels good.” His eyes soften, as if he means every word he says.. “It’s like you’re my other half.”
Hanbin feels a familiar warmth bubbling in his stomach. “Other half?”
Zhang Hao nods. “The other half of my soul.”
Oh. At that moment, Hanbin knew. He’s found his soulmate.
“Do you really mean that?” Hanbin asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s afraid to wonder out loud. “Do you really feel like we’re… meant to be something?”
“I do. It’s like everything we’ve gone through has led us to each other. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right.”
Still looking at each other, Hanbin leans in for a kiss, heart racing with anticipation. But to his surprise (and dismay), Zhang Hao pulls back, eyes wide with shock.
“Oh. Um—sorry.” Hanbin feels heat creeping up his neck, flustered to the max. Maybe I really read all the signs wrong, he thinks, panic setting in. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
Zhang Hao continues to stare at him, confusion flickering in his expression. “Assumed…?”
Hanbin gestures awkwardly at the space between them, trying to collect his thoughts. “That you… felt the same way, I guess.” He clears his throat, embarrassment flooding his cheeks. “I’m sorry, you can pretend it didn’t—”
“I do feel the same way,” Zhang Hao says, and now it’s Hanbin’s turn to widen his eyes in shock. “You like me, don’t you? I like you too.”
Zhang Hao’s honesty feels like a breath of fresh air, sending Hanbin into a whirlwind of emotions. All he manages to stammer out is a surprised, “Oh! Oh…”
“I just didn’t take you as the…” Zhang Hao pauses, searching for the right word. “Forward type?”
Hanbin gulps. Compared to his friends, he probably isn’t the most proactive guy out there. But given their circumstances and how briefly they’ve known each other, he understands how this might come across to Zhang Hao.
He only hopes Zhang Hao doesn’t think less of him after this. “I’m not, usually. You just make me feel a little stupid sometimes.”
Zhang Hao giggles, the sound bright and infectious, like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “Well, I don’t kiss on the first date.”
“Oh.” Hanbin scrunches his eyebrows, taken aback. “But we… this is a laundry room, hyung. I wouldn’t bring you here on a date.”
Zhang Hao rolls his eyes playfully. “Exactly why I won’t kiss you now. Didn’t take me for a prude, huh?”
Hanbin shakes his head vigorously. “No! I never thought of you like that, I promise.” He pouts when Hao laughs. “I was just too impulsive.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Zhang Hao says with a reassuring smile. “I don’t kiss on or before the first date. I also don’t kiss until I get a confession.” He tilts his head teasingly. “I guess that’s not very common for you. Is that disappointing?”
“Not at all.” Hanbin takes Hao’s hand in his. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”
Zhang Hao laughs. “You’ve only known me for three months, Hanbin. You haven’t seen the worst of me yet.”
“Are you saying this show hasn’t mentally trampled on you? You must be God’s favourite,” Hanbin chuckles. “You’re perfect the way you are, hyung. That wouldn’t change, even if you cry or throw a fit at me sometimes.”
“You’re really good with words,” Zhang Hao mutters, his cheeks turning red. “Tell me, since all the cameras are away, are you lowkey a casanova? Do you flirt with everyone under our roof?”
“No,” Hanbin quickly replies, and it’s true. “I’ve only flirted with you here, swear on my mother’s life.”
Zhang Hao narrows his eyes. “Not even with Matthew?”
“Huh? Why would I flirt with Matthew?”
“Don’t you have a history with him? I’m not blind, I can see that you two are closer than the rest.”
Hanbin hesitates, wondering how accepting Zhang Hao would be of his past.
“I’m not judging, by the way,” Zhang Hao adds breezily. “You can tell me only if you want.”
“We trained together,” Hanbin starts slowly, gauging Zhang Hao’s reaction. “He was the only friend I had who was close to my age. We…” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “We did hook up on occasion, but it wasn’t serious.”
“Not serious,” Zhang Hao repeats. “Like what we were about to do just now?”
Hanbin shakes his head firmly. “We both knew we were better off as friends right from the beginning. It wasn’t a situationship or anything like that. We talked about it before doing anything. I didn’t see him romantically, and neither did he. There’s no baggage from that.”
Zhang Hao seems to relax his shoulders after hearing Hanbin’s explanation. “And now?”
“We’re friends,” Hanbin replies. “Like we’ve always been. And now he has a crush on Jiwoong hyung.”
Zhang Hao lets out a laugh at the familiar rumour.
“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” Hanbin says softly. “I can’t change what I did, but I promise I don’t go around toying with people’s feelings.”
Zhang Hao’s smile widens. “That’s all I wanted to hear. It’s not like I’m a saint either, but I don’t want to waste my time if you’re just looking for fun and not something serious, okay?” He leans in slightly, his gaze steady. “I’m selfish and I want all your attention focused on me. Do you think you can handle that?”
“Easy peasy,” Hanbin replies, grinning. As if he isn’t already doing just that. “Was that meant to be a threat? Because I’m more than okay with it.”
Zhang Hao playfully punches Hanbin on the shoulder, eliciting a wide grin from him. “Should I confess to you now, then?”
“Not here, Sung Hanbin. We’re in a laundry room,” Zhang Hao replies. “Later. When we win the show. When we’re both running for first place.”
Hanbin knows there’s no guarantee in this cutthroat world; shows like these can make or break you. Yet, he can’t help but indulge in the hopeful thought for that brief moment they have left. If Zhang Hao believes they can make it to the top two, as centers till the end, then Hanbin is willing to believe it too. Even if it’s just for a minute.
“Will you kiss me then when we win?” he asks, his heart pounding with anticipation.
Zhang Hao looks at him for a second longer before breaking into another smile. “Sure.”