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If you ask Sung Hanbin about a crime, he will tell you everything.
Not just the crime itself, but the time it happened, the weather that day, the color of the suspect’s shoelaces, and the exact moment he knew something was wrong.
He will reenact the scene with dramatic gestures, narrating every step like he’s standing in a courtroom revealing the final twist.
Hanbin loves a good mystery.
But if you ask Zhang Hao about Sung Hanbin…
he will tell you twice as much.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The afternoon sun warmed the grass as Hao finished spreading their picnic blanket across the park lawn.
Spring had arrived quietly that year. The air carried the soft smell of flowers and freshly cut grass, and somewhere nearby a group of students were laughing loudly over something on their phones.
Hao smoothed the corners of the blanket and arranged the small containers of food in the center.
Across from him, Hanbin was already halfway through a story.
“…and then I realized something didn’t add up,” Hanbin said, pointing his chopsticks dramatically into the air like a detective presenting evidence in court. “He said he was studying in the library all night, but the library closed at ten.”
Hao hummed, resting his chin on his hand.
Hanbin was sitting cross-legged across from him, leaning forward with the intense focus of someone revealing the greatest deduction in history.
“So I asked him where exactly he was sitting,” Hanbin continued,“And he said the third floor.”
Hanbin paused.
“The library doesn’t have a third floor.”
He snapped his fingers triumphantly.
“Confession in five seconds.”
Hao blinked.
“That’s your big story?”
Hanbin looked proud. “Justice was served.”
Hao lifted his drink to hide the small smile tugging at his lips.
If you asked Hanbin, yesterday’s case was a brilliant act of deduction.
If you asked Hao…
It was mostly a tired student admitting he lied about studying.
But Hao never corrected him.
Because the way Hanbin’s eyes lit up when he talked about solving something…
had always been Hao’s favorite thing.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
If you asked Hao when he first fell in love with Sung Hanbin, he would probably say middle school.
Though technically, it started with an accusation.
Back then Hao had only been in Korea for a few months. His Korean was still hesitant and careful, each sentence constructed in his head before he dared say it aloud.
Which made defending himself difficult.
So when someone’s phone disappeared during lunch one afternoon, it didn’t take long before the blame found him.
“You were standing there earlier.”
“Check his bag.”
“He probably took it.”
The hallway outside the classroom had slowly filled with curious students as the accusations grew louder.
Three boys stood in front of Hao like self-appointed judges.
Except their case had already reached a conclusion.
Hao.
The quiet foreign student.
The easy target.
“I didn’t take it,” Hao tried to explain.
His voice came out softer than he intended.
“Then open your bag,” one of them demanded.
Hao hesitated.
He knew refusing would only make them more suspicious.
But the situation already felt wrong.
Before he could decide—
“Wait.”
The voice cut cleanly through the tension.
Hao turned.
That was the first time he noticed Sung Hanbin.
Hanbin stood a few steps away, school bag hanging loosely from one shoulder. His tie was crooked and his hair slightly messy, like he had rushed there.
But his expression was focused.
Curious.
Like someone staring at a puzzle.
“What’s going on?” Hanbin asked.
One of the boys scoffed. “His phone disappeared.”
“He was standing here earlier,” another added.
“He obviously took it.”
Hanbin frowned slightly.
Then he looked at Hao.
For a moment Hao felt strangely… examined.
Then Hanbin stepped closer.
“When exactly did it disappear?” he asked.
“During lunch.”
“And you’re sure it was here?”
“Yeah.”
Hanbin nodded thoughtfully.
“And you checked everywhere?”
“Of course we did.”
Hanbin tilted his head.
“Everywhere?”
Something about the way he asked made the boys hesitate.
Hao watched quietly.
This was the moment he noticed it.
Hanbin’s eyes.
They were bright.
Focused.
Alive with curiosity.
Like he genuinely enjoyed solving the situation.
Hanbin crouched down near the lockers.
“What are you doing?” one of the boys snapped.
“Investigating,” Hanbin replied casually.
He leaned forward, peering into the narrow space behind the lockers.
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
Then Hanbin reached his arm behind one of the lockers.
And pulled something out.
The missing phone.
The hallway went silent.
Hanbin stood up slowly.
“Well,” he said, holding it up. “Mystery solved.”
One of the boys snatched it from his hand, face burning red.
“It probably fell there earlier,” Hanbin added casually.
Hao expected the situation to end there.
But Hanbin wasn’t done.
He crossed his arms and looked directly at the boys.
“You should apologize.”
The boys stared at him.
“For what?”
Hanbin gestured toward Hao.
“You accused him of stealing.”
“He looked suspicious!”
Hanbin frowned.
“That’s not a reason.”
“No one asked you to get involved.”
Hanbin’s expression hardened slightly.
“I solved your problem,” he said. “The least you can do is say sorry.”
They didn’t move.
One of them laughed instead.
“Why should we apologize to him?”
For a moment the hallway felt very quiet.
Then Hanbin sighed.
The sound carried a kind of tired stubbornness.
“Fine,” he said.
Then he leaned slightly toward Hao.
“Hey,” Hanbin whispered softly.
Hao blinked.
“Go find the nearest teacher.”
Hao frowned. “What about you?”
Hanbin looked at him.
And smiled.
His dimples appeared instantly, soft and warm against his cheeks.
They looked almost like tiny kitten whiskers.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Hanbin said lightly.
“I’m going to be okay.”
Hao opened his mouth to protest but he was already turning back toward the boys.
The argument escalated quickly after that.
Voices rose.
Someone shoved Hanbin.
And a mini fistfight started.
Hao found him later behind the gym.
Hanbin was sitting on the steps with scraped knuckles and a split lip, pressing a juice box against his cheek.
He looked oddly pleased with himself.
Hao walked closer with bandaids.
“Why… did you help me?” he asked carefully.
Hanbin looked up.
Then smiled again.
Boyish.
Completely unconcerned about the bruises forming on his face.
“Because Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t let innocent people get framed.”
Hao blinked. "Sherlock…Holmes?"
Hanbin scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
“And maybe it’s a little biased,” he added.
“But I didn’t like those guys anyway.”
Then he started explaining.
Excitedly.
About how the phone must have slipped behind the locker when someone shoved their bag inside. How the angle of the floor made it impossible to see unless someone crouched down.
And while he talked— His eyes sparkled.
It looked like it held an entire universe.
That was the moment Hao understood something.
The mystery itself wasn’t interesting.
But Hanbin—
Hanbin was.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
By most standards, Hanbin was not the most impressive person.
He was terrible at math.
Absolutely terrible.
His teachers complained about it constantly.
His mom warned him all the time.
“Hanbin-ah,” she would sigh. “You need to focus on your studies. You can’t just run around solving imaginary crimes.”
Hanbin would protest every time.
“They’re not imaginary!”
He also had a habit of throwing himself into fights he probably couldn’t win.
Or talking dramatically about justice.
Or declaring he needed to stay fit “in case criminals attacked.”
In other words—
A complete nerd.
A somewhat useless one, according to Hao‘s mom.
But Hao never thought that.
Hao found the stories boring most of the time.
But the way Hanbin told them?
That was captivating.
So Hao listened.
Again and again.
And somewhere between all those stories—
They became inseparable.
Friends first.
Then something more.
And eventually…a relationship.
Years later, sitting across from him in the park, that same sparkle was still there.
“…so technically I didn’t break into the office,” he explained seriously. “I just entered without permission.”
Hao laughed quietly.
“Of course.”
Hanbin looked pleased with himself.
Hao studied him for a moment.
Then leaned forward slightly.
“Hanbin.”
“Hmm?”
Hanbin looked up immediately.
Hao hesitated before asking softly,
“If something ever happened to me… would you come save me?”
Hanbin blinked.
Then frowned like the question itself was ridiculous.
“Of course I would.”
He said it without hesitation.
“If you were in danger, I’d find you immediately.”
Hao tilted his head.
“Even if it’s difficult?”
Hanbin straightened proudly.
“I’d solve it faster than Sherlock Holmes.”
Hao laughed.
Then he leaned forward—
And kissed him.
Hanbin froze.
For exactly two seconds but when Hao’s hand gently grabbed his sleeve, Hanbin melted instantly.
His hands moved to Hao’s waist, pulling him closer as he returned the kiss instinctively.
Warm.
Soft.
Comfortably familiar.
When they finally pulled apart, Hanbin looked slightly dazed.
“…You know,” Hanbin said thoughtfully, “statistically speaking, detectives often kissed after heroic acts.”
Hao stared at him.
Then burst into laughter.
“My very own Sherlock.”
Hanbin’s ears turned red.
“…Detective Sung is also acceptable.”
Hao smiled.
And honestly—
If you asked him about Sung Hanbin again,
He could probably talk about him forever.