Chapter Text
Han was more than aware of how different he was compared to everyone else around him. His peers always made it obvious with the way they’d look at him as though he was a nuisance. He couldn’t change that, but if he were able to live like his family, his friends, he would change his entire life in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t an option. He was stuck with this version of himself that would never feel enough for anyone, never feel enough for himself. It never bothered him much growing up, not until his parents became distant, almost as though they never had a child in the first place. Han would really like to say he found solace in his life of loneliness, but in this life full of loneliness, there was only him.
He who was too much, yet not enough. A boy whose voice is drowned out in the sea of unrealistic expectations. When he can’t live up to what others think of him, then suddenly he becomes a problem. And if they have problems with him simply living, with him simply existing he believes that they should try being him. Han tries, he really does, but at some point loneliness is burned into his existence, branded on his soul as though it was a reminder to him, and everyone around him, that Park Han would remain lonely for as long as he lived.
That changed the moment he laid eyes on a boy who made it his mission to make sure Han never felt that way again.
Cha Woongki was a storm. He was loud, unpredictable, and the most beautiful form of life that Han had ever come across. Meeting the older boy was like taking in a breath of fresh air after running ten miles nonstop. It was refreshing, it was everything. Han couldn’t really imagine a life without Woongki, and he was fine with that. They grew together, they livef together, they loved together. Han and Woongki were intertwined in ways that others couldn’t even begin to fathom. Not that anyone needed to understand them, not when they had each other. It wasn’t much, but it was theirs. Woongki had become so deeply rooted in Han’s life that it had given him the confidence he once lacked.
Suddenly, the world didn’t feel so small and lonely.
Woongki brought color back to his life, he brought love, he brought joy, he brought himself. He was so unapologetically and unequivocally him, that Han couldn’t help but be influenced by his confident aura. Woongki had just become a constant figure in his life, and
And Woongki didn’t mind.
Woongki let Han ramble on for hours about everything and anything. Sometimes, they didn’t even need words. Woongki had memorized him, he’d studied him and paid attention to things that no one else did. In turn, Han had become absolutely enamored with Woongki himself. If you were to ask him what his interests were, he’d definitely include Woongki in there, maybe even above spider-man, but Han would never actually admit that.
This is the root of Han’s current predicament. Cha Woongki was the sun, the very air he breathed, his life. Han was endlessly, hopelessly, and desperately devoted to the older man. It was a devotion that surpassed even the god he was supposed to worship, the god he was raised to worship. It felt like betrayal to his father, like this benevolent figure watching over him would suddenly scorn him, and sentence him to eternal damnation. Han couldn’t let that happen. If that were to happen, Han would lose Woongki, he would be ripped apart from the one person he’d ever had the privilege of calling his home.
So, he pushed it down. He stomped all over the idea, locked it in a box deep within his heart and threw away the key. He denied his feelings and chalked it up to it just being a phase, it was always a phase, he could overcome this. This would eventually pass, he only feels this way because Woongki is the only person to ever show him that maybe his life was worth living. If he found a nice girl to settle down with, to have kids with, to have a stereotypical picket fence life with, then maybe these feelings for Woongki would inevitably fade. That hope, the hope that he could finally be enough for his family, for his god, that was all he needed to keep his feelings locked deep inside his heart.
But was that really the solution? Could moving on from Woongki really be the answer to this never ending problem? If Han really and truly put his heart and soul into moving on, surely this will all just blow over. Surely, in the near future, Han will settle down and he will laugh about this with Woongki, someday when He and Woongki have a family of their own.
And that’s exactly what he sets out to do. Han is going to find a nice girl to settle down with, because surely that will help him figure out his own feelings. So, with a bit of coaxing (and bribery), Han sought out Jeongwoo to help him with this little venture of his.
The first date goes smoothly, almost too smoothly. She laughs at every joke he makes, talks on and on about her life, and even asks Han questions about himself. She was a lighthouse shining brightly, guiding the ships at sea back to the stability of land. Han supposes he, too, was a sinking ship that yearns for the land she led him to. Besides, she is nice, pretty, and considerate, so what's the harm in going along with this potential relationship?
The harm was that she was nice in a way that, for some reason, bothered Han. When they made things official, everything was normal, she took the time to get to know him, let him open up to her at his own pace. Hell, she even avoided touching him without asking because of the one time he flinched at her suddenly clinging onto him.
It was picture perfect.
She was the perfect ideal girlfriend that any man would be lucky to have, but Han soon realized that there was way more to this story that she let on. Sieun, in contrast to her outward kindness, was an apple rotten to its core. Perhaps the signs were there, but who was Han if he didn’t miss obvious red flags? It happened only a month after making things official, Han overheard her having a conversation with one of her friends. He hadn’t meant to peep in on their conversation. Really, he was just trying to find the restroom when he overheard their conversation. Nevertheless, it was a conversation Han absolutely should have tuned out of. He heard everything she said about him, every last complaint she had about him, everything he had been hearing from his family from the moment he could speak. He heard it all.
“He’s too shy, I can’t even touch him without him jumping.”
“He’s always quiet. He’s always watching.”
“He rambles too much, and when he does he’s just too loud.”
“He is always clinging onto that roommate of his, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was a fag. How are you that close with a man? Especially in front of your girlfriend? He gets to touch you but I don’t?”
“Honestly, staying with him is a chore, but this is good karma for me. Giving him a chance at love for once in his miserable life will definitely get me into heaven or something. Ah, I’m so nice taking on charity cases like this.”
It shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, but the tears burned as they found their way to his cheeks. He felt as sick, as though he was about to throw up with the sudden surge of emotion that suddenly hit him like a truck. He left her apartment after that. He didn’t even tell her he was leaving, but he didn’t need to— he didn’t want to. Han finds himself running back to his apartment in the most distress he’s ever been in since his Woongki revelation. Navigating through the halls of his apartment building feeling lightheaded and faint.
Hands reached into his jacket pocket as fingers fumbled with the keys. He reached the door to his shared apartment, legs trembling and threatening to collapse beneath him at the sheer force of his distress. He shakily tries to input the key into the lock, but to no avail, he lets out a sob of frustration as he tries again and again, hoping for a different outcome. When the key does not comply with Han’s will, he falls to his knees and lands on the carpeted floor in the hallway of their building.
Han couldn’t breathe, he felt suffocated and weak. All of this for some girl who he didn’t even like, why did he feel this way? Why did he feel so stuck? A cough rips through his throat and cuts through his thoughts. He wants to throw up, wants to crawl out of his skin and die, but he doesn’t. So, he opts for something else. His nails rake down the skin of his neck, scraping and scratching as he tries to breathe, or climb out of his skin, Han isn’t even sure anymore. He just wants to disappear, he just wants to—
“Hani?” A soft familiar voice echoes in the hall, hurried footsteps following suit. It was an instant reaction. Han stopped his hands from moving. Blood dripped down his hands as they sat motionless on the base of his neck, nails still digging into the self-inflicted wounds that garnished the skin on his neck. Woongki let out an unsteady breath, assessing the situation before jumping into any form of action. If Han was a danger to himself, then he could possibly be a danger to him.
But Woongki knows Han better than Han knows himself.
Woongki, who was always there. Woongki, who couldn’t even stand thinking badly about Han. Woongki, who Han could not seem to run away from. Han just sat there, hands unmoving against his neck as he debated whether to run away or stay.
Of course, in true Han fashion, he stays.
His hands were covered in blood and coated with sweat after how frantic Han had been to escape. Breathing heavily as he tries to regulate himself, but failing miserably, as he looks up at his roommate. Making direct eye contact with him shouldn’t have been so emotional, but it was. One moment he’s staring up in awe, the next he’s crumpled up into a ball sobbing his eyes out once more. And yet, Woongki gets Han’s wordless message, sets his bag down onto the ground and sits himself next to Han. The warmth that permeates off of him is enough for Han to finally move his hands away from his neck. Even as they sat there together, Woongki didn’t touch Han, not without his permission, because that could send Han spiraling even further, and Woongki needed to ground him rather than send him off the rails.
“Hani, what happened?” Han doesn’t answer him, he can’t answer him. Every time he tried to speak, a loud sob would rip through his throat. He furiously wipes away his tears, trying to compose himself for Woongki, to be strong for Woongki, but he couldn’t. Han would calm down for a moment, but another glance at Woongki and he immediately bursts into tears once more. Han doesn’t know how much time has passed, but with Woongki comforting him and helping him breathe through it, Han finally gets to a point where he can finally speak without his sobs interrupting him.
He looks at his roommate with his puffy eyed, tear streaked face and presses his lips into a thin line. And for the first time since Han met Woongki, he hesitated to run to him for comfort. He wanted to be held by Woongki, he wanted Woongki to sing to him to calm his aching heart, all he wanted was for Woongki to stay by his side, but he kept replaying Sieun’s words in his mind.
Maybe she was right.
He was too attached to Woongki, too reliant on him. This type of attachment wasn’t normal, he shouldn’t be so dependent on Woongki to such an alarming degree. However, he was, and Han relied on that attachment, he relied on that safety. Anyone could be a safe space for him, anyone, but he continued to choose Woongki because he is the only person who truly understands him. Yes, this relationship was a bit worrying, but how can one begin to understand this when they barely understand Han himself?
It’s why Han thinks that maybe it’ll be okay to indulge in this relationship for just a bit longer.
“Hold me,” is all that Han mutters, it’s all he could manage to say before he completely shut down. The next moments were a blur. Woongki filled the silence with things about his week, or the drama going on within his other circle of friends, and Han didn’t mind. Woongki’s voice was a melody that drowned out the cacophony of thoughts that swirled through his head. He found solace in the way Woongki just let him exist like this, like he just knew. It always just felt like Woongki knew something that Han didn’t, but the more he thought about that, the more complicated his feelings became.
So, he pushed it down and prayed.
“Let me treat your wounds.” Han looked up at Woongki from the bed, eyes burning from all that crying he did moments earlier. He looks at the medical kit in the elder man’s hand before pulling the blanket over his head and hiding away from the other. He flinches at his sudden movement, pain burning his neck as he moves, but he’d rather risk some temporary pain over the burn of the antiseptic.
“Come on, Hani! It’ll be over before you know it.” Woongki set the box down on the nightstand as he tried to pull the blanket off Han. It was a tug of war, and the one winning was desperately gripping the blanket in hopes Woongki would just back off. Of course, Woongki wasn’t one to give up easily. After a couple more tugs, Woongki’s fingers ‘slipped’ and he fell backwards onto the floor.
“Ouch!— Hani, please! I'm going to have a big ugly bruise on my butt now.” It didn’t hurt that much, but Woongki moaned and groaned about how his perfect butt image was going to be ruined. Han didn’t understand what a perfect butt image was exactly, but he peeked over the blanket to see Woongki with tears in his eyes and a pout on his lips. He looked pretty, eyes scanning over Woongki’s figure with a concerned look that eventually turned into a fond smile.
Woongki noticed, he always did. One moment Woongki was on the floor complaining, the next he had Han’s blanket in his hands as he threw it to the floor. He captures Han in a tight embrace and a triumphant laugh. And honestly, Han couldn’t even be mad at this cheap trick. Not when Woongki looked so beautiful with that smile on his lips.
“I’ve got you now. So, let’s get this show on the road!” Woongki teases the younger, his playful tone easing the dread that came with addressing the wounds on his neck. Woongki let him go after a few moments and laid him back on the bed. He reached over to grab the medical box and began his work. Han squirmed around every time he didn’t like something, but ultimately stayed right where Woongki wanted him.
Could he have run? Yes, but the way his roommate was looking at him with such a concerned yet focused face wasn’t something he’d ever pass up on. He loved the way his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked. He loved the pout that rested on Woongki’s lips as he saw the extent of the damage Han had done. He loved Cha Woongki.
That realization was scary, but perhaps it’s something that Han has known since he was very young. A truth he’d spent years running from.
He couldn’t remember the rest of the night, but the next morning, he finds himself cuddled up with Woongki in his bed. His eyes and neck hurt from his meltdown the day prior, but he ignored the throbbing pain to check his phone. The amount of missed calls and texts from Sieun made him sick to his stomach, but he just couldn’t look away. Her tone was sickeningly sweet as she sent nice messages, asking if Han was okay as well as sending her empty words of encouragement. He wants to ignore her, he really does, but he finds his thumbs moving to text her before he could think about it. He drafts up a text, backspaces, rewrites it, and continues that cycle until he hears Woongki shuffling awake behind him.
“Do not text her.” The phone is yanked from his hands as a half asleep Woongki leans over him. He hides the phone under his pillow before taking Han back into his arms. Han wanted to protest, he really did, but he melted into Woongki’s arms without a second thought. Woongki’s head rested on Han’s shoulder, chest pressed flush against Han’s back. This was normal to him, yet something about it felt wrong. Something about this felt wrong. Even so, Han makes no move to escape. Instead, he settles into Woongki’s arms as he ignores the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that he is going to burn in hell.
The morning continues slowly. Woongki makes pancakes and refuses to let Han help. It wasn’t that Woongki thought he was dangerous or anything, but the day before was exhausting for Han. Woongki knew that if he didn’t put his foot down, Han would push himself past his limits and he absolutely did not want that. So, while Han scowled at him from the countertop where he sat, he hums and mixes the pancake batter.
“Are you sure you don’t need—“
“One more word and you’ll become breakfast!~”
Han suddenly believes Woongki is out to get him. Yesterday wasn’t even that big of a deal! Seriously, Han was perfectly fine now and he is more than capable of flipping a few pancakes. He grumbles under his breath, kicking and swinging his feet in an upset manner to make sure Woongki knew that he wasn’t pleased with this arrangement. When the pancakes are done and the table is set, Woongki and Han sit together and talk about everything besides the elephant in the room.
“And my professor! He kicked me out yesterday because someone else was making a fuss and he thought it was me. That should count as discrimination and a hate crime. I can get him sued for that.” Han admires his roommate with a fond smile. Engaging with Woongki as he rambled on about god knows what. It was endearing, watching Woongki try to distract him from thinking about what happened. As much as he’d like to forget, the dull throbbing in his neck refused to let him off the hook. It was in that moment that the realization finally sunk in.
He sat there in his chair, eyes unfocused, spacing out as Woongki’s voice felt further and further away from him. Anxiety coursed through his veins as the gravity of it all began weighing him down. Maybe his family was right about him. Maybe they were right to assume that Han harbored bad luck from the moment he was born. Perhaps this was god playing a sick cruel joke on him for the sake of a couple of laughs with his angel friends.
It made sense. The way his parents hated him, the way his brother no longer looked up to him, the way he was already destined for hell because he was in love with another man. This bad luck he was born with was so entwined with his existence that he has become the epitome of unlucky. Unlucky with relationships, with family, with school, with friends, with religion, with himself, with—
“Han… Han.. Hani!” Woongki nudges Han gently, bringing him back down to earth from the sudden spell of dissociation. The rest of his meal sat cold and untouched from how long he’d tuned out and, in all honesty, after that he no longer had an appetite. His eyes flick up to Woongki, meeting his worried gaze with faux confusion. A smile instantly makes its way onto Han’s lips but never makes it to his eyes. His perfectly crafted mask slipped into place as a defense mechanism, as a response to immediate danger.
“I’m sorry, hyung. Is something wrong?” The tone in his voice is genuine, but the look in his eyes spoke for him. Don’t ask, please don’t ask. Unfortunately, Woongki ignored his wordless plea and pressed further for answers.
“No.. it’s just,” Woongki hesitates, biting the skin of his lip anxiously as Han’s smile throws him off. “About yesterday, I know you may want to get back with Sieun, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
What follows is a few beats of silence before Woongki hurriedly speaks up again.
“I’m not saying relationships are bad for you, or that you shouldn’t find love or anything!— Really, I think you deserve to be loved, but Sieun really isn’t it. If she made you have such a bad reaction then maybe it isn’t worth pursuing further…” Woongki’s voice grew quieter as he spoke, something completely out of character for him. Perhaps it was because Han’s silence was deafening, or perhaps because the practiced smile on his face distorted into something unseen by Woongki. Han doesn’t really wish to find out.
“But I’m going to hell…” Han muttered quietly, knowing full well that Woongki’s ears wouldn’t pick up on that remark.
“Hm? What did you say?”
“I said I know you meant well, Woongki-hyung. I won’t get back with Sieun, I just need to process this.” Han purses his lips, carefully watching for Woongki’s reaction. He didn’t want to upset his hyung more than he had to, so he would say what he needed to. He would say what Woongki wanted to hear and move on, because that’s what Han does best. He sweeps things under the rug, runs away from his problems, and avoids confrontation as much as he can. He didn’t have it in him to carry that authority and confidence of someone emotionally competent. Han was not in tune with his emotions and now was certainly not the time to find out why this conversation makes him want to break his ribs.
“Okay, you know I’m always here for you, right Hani?” That’s a lie. You know it’s a lie, Han. Eventually he’ll get tired of you, eventually you’ll be separated in the afterlife because Woongki is going to hell and you know it. You need to help him, you need to save him, you need to save yourself.
Han picks at the skin around his nails as the nagging voice suddenly gets louder. He exhales shakily and tries shoving it back down and ignoring it, but this time he knew that no amount of avoiding or praying could get rid of that voice. This time, he was stuck with negative thoughts swirling around in his head begging him to confess and repent. He bites the inside of his cheek, peeling the skin off with his teeth until he bled, suddenly lost in thought until he felt Woongki’s warm hand place itself gently over Han’s own.
“Right, Han?” Han looks down at the hand placement and nods.
“Right, I know. You’re my best friend, Hyung. How could I ever forget?” He lies straight through his teeth, an anxious chuckle cutting through the tension as Han tries to piece himself back together. He wasn’t going to burden Woongki further. He wasn’t going to rely on his best friend anymore, he was going to be his own person and to do that he needed to take two steps back. Han was willing to do anything to shield Woongki from his internal conflict and if that meant pushing him away, then so be it.
Besides, this was his best and only option. Pushing away Woongki was the best way to get himself into heaven. Even if Woongki didn’t come with him, Han would do this for himself. Han had to do this for himself.
If this is what his god wanted, then this is what his god will get.