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Summary
Like tonight, Hanbin’s arms are wrapped around Jiwoong’s torso. His grip is tight enough to leave traces of red against his skin, even through his loose t-shirt. Jiwoong doesn’t complain, though—never does. He must like it, Hanbin thinks.
They don’t talk about it because there isn’t much to say. Hanbin wouldn’t know where to begin with how he feels towards their situation. He should be smarter, should have drawn lines in the sand.
Yet, most relationships in their group seem blurred. He isn’t quite sure where their friendship begins and whatever this is ends.
Jiwoong's door is open to anyone who needs it. Thus, Hanbin's in his bedroom more often then not. On the night before Jiwoong's birthday, Hanbin's back under his bedsheets.