aeggie tales

by ddungjjanghaom

Summary:

When model student Sung Hanbin gets paired up with known delinquent Zhan Hao for a school project, he discovers there’s more to the boy than what meets the eye.

Notes:

HIIIIIIIIIII

i've had this idea on my mind ever since that fansign in like december where haobin were dressed as students and they had band-aids on their faces... you guys know what i'm talking about... and this took me fakin ages to write... sighs

anyways,,, this is very tropey just as i like it… not much substance or plot… just vibes... and fluff… the lord has blessed me with the ability to write fluff so that’s what this is 🙏🙏 enjoy my haobin brothers sisters and siblings

Sung Hanbin has a problem

 

Sung Hanbin has a problem. A tall, dark and annoyingly pretty problem. 

His morning starts in a rather unpleasant manner, courtesy of a mere two hours of sleep and an empty stomach after a night spent cramming for today’s Physics exam. He should have anticipated that his day would not get any better. 

“Hyung, did you hear? Zhang Hao and Ricky took down five guys in a parking lot yesterday. Not a single scratch on them,” Gyuvin says in lieu of greeting once they meet outside the school gates. His friend—his only friend, Hanbin must add— sounds awestruck. Hanbin chalks it up to him being young, but he knows it’s a little but more than that. “I bet Ricky looks crazy hot fighting,” Gyuvin adds dreamily as they make their way towards their classroom.

Gyuvinnie isn’t that much younger. He’ll be seventeen soon, and Hanbin really, really, should stop treating him like a kid, but he’s not helping his case by thinking Ricky’s extracurricular activities are hot. 

Hanbin has had enough. He’s not in the mood to hear about the adventures of known school delinquent Zhang Hao and his sidekick. Zhang Hao, the delinquent who also happens to be his academic rival and self-proclaimed sworn enemy—though Hanbin suspects it’s a one-sided rivalry that exists solely in his mind, as Zhang Hao doesn’t deem anyone as worthy of his attention. 

“Shut up. You’re crazy,” Hanbin retorts with a tired sigh. He’s laser-focused on not forgetting anything about Coulomb’s law, repeating everything over and over in his mind. There’s no way in hell Zhang Hao will beat him once more, not if Hanbin has anything to say about it.

“Hyung, you don’t get it,” Gyuvin persists. “There’s something about him being a bad boy that makes him so hot. And he’s also so mysterious. I want to know everything about him.” His friend claps his hands, resembling an overexcited puppy. Hanbin tunes him out. There’s nothing hot about being a bad boy.

Speaking of the devil. Zhang Hao saunters down the corridor with Ricky by his side, both exuding an aura of confidence and command. The rest of the students move out of their way, making room. No one dares to approach them; they only stare from afar, whispering God knows what type of gossip once they’re out of earshot. 

Hanbin forgets everything about Coulomb’s law when his gaze fleetingly meets Zhang Hao’s, and the older boy winks at him. Heat rushes through his body, setting his cheeks ablaze. Zhang Hao smirks at the sight of Hanbin’s blush, just as he does every time.

It’s rage. Nothing more, nothing less, only rage. That’s the only feeling he harbors towards Zhang Hao. The other boy delights in provoking him at every opportunity he gets, even though they’ve never exchanged more than a few words. It’s like an unspoken war—small quips here and there, or that infuriating wink Zhang Hao seems to love throwing at him. And he can’t even wink properly. What a loser. 

Ever since he transferred early this year, this silent rivalry has simmered between them. Hanbin had never faced any competition before; he’d always been the top of his class. But with the arrival of Zhang Hao, that’s changed over time, meaning Hanbin has to put even more effort in his studies to be first, to be as perfect as he’s always been.

So yes, a problem indeed. 

I think the school delinquent hates me

 

The problem sits directly behind him in every class, and is currently distracting him with the incessant tapping of his pencil. Hanbin’s about to turn around and demand him to stop, but their math teacher clears her throat, redirecting the class’s attention.

“Congratulations to Zhang Hao for achieving the highest grade on our last test,” Miss Song announces as she hands him the graded sheet of paper, her voice tinged with barely concealed disdain, a sentiment echoed in her expression. Zhang Hao scoffs, aware of the aversion most of the school population harbors towards him, particularly teachers. 

Hanbin frowns. He doesn’t like the way some teachers look down on Zhang Hao. Yes, he has a dubious reputation, doesn’t follow school rules, is kind of a delinquent, and occasionally dozes off in class. But Hanbin believes there’s more to it. He’s not disrespectful; he mostly keeps to himself and doesn’t cause much disruption at school. Hanbin knows the dislike has more to do with the fact that Zhang Hao is a foreigner than anything else.

“Congratulations also to Hanbin, who was only one point behind Zhang Hao,” Miss Song continues with a genuine smile. 

Hanbin attempts to return it, but it likely comes across more as a grimace. This situation just doesn’t sit right with him. Zhang Hao won this time, fair and square, just as every other time before. Hanbin doesn’t like favoritism, and when he’s the one at the top, Miss Song doesn’t do anything like this.

While their teacher hands out the remaining tests, Hanbin turns to face Zhang Hao. The boy is doodling some small pandas on the corner of his notepad, seemingly lost in thought.

Zhang Hao’s reputation precedes him, and the entire school, including Hanbin, is well aware of it. Many things are said about him; that he’s a womanizer, allegedly having slept with at least half the girls here; that he’s part of a Chinese gang; that he gets involved in fights every single day; that his body is covered in tattoos. His appearance only adds fuel to the fire: vibrant red hair, piercings all over his ears, smudged eyeliner and black nails are part of his daily attire. His uniform is never worn right, either. 

At the start of the school year, teachers were always attempting to rein him in with reprimands, but to no avail, and they’ve since given up. With the end of the school year approaching, there’s no point in trying anymore.

Today, he has a little scratch on his right cheek, probably from the fight Gyuvin was talking about this morning. 

Despite this, Hanbin is sure Zhang Hao is not a bad person. Even though he sometimes makes Hanbin want to bash his head against a wall, even if he makes him see red every time, he winks one of those black-rimmed eyes at him, even if he seems determined to dethrone him academically, Zhang Hao’s never once been rude to anyone in their class. Unresponsive, perhaps, but never rude. 

Hanbin wants to say something to him, but nothing comes to mind, so he simply stares for a while. Even if his appearance is unconventional and he sticks out like a sore thumb against the homogeneousness of the others, it suits him, gives him character. Habin’s glad at least one person here is able to express themselves to the fullest. 

“Is there anything you need?” Zhang Hao asks, his voice monotonous, not bothering to look up.

It catches him by surprise. It’s not often he gets to hear the rich baritone of the other boy’s voice. “I…” Hanbin starts, but struggles to find the right words, settling for an awkward apology. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Zhang Hao inquires, looking up, his eyes hard as stone. Hanbin, usually perceptive, finds himself unable to read him, to see what’s on his mind. He feels a shiver run down his spine at Zhang Hao’s intense glare. He doesn’t have a clear answer for his question, either, and the silence seems to frustrate Zhang Hao even more. “I don’t need your apologies,” he states, furrowing his eyebrows, before returning his attention to his notepad. His eyes aren’t visible anymore, not that Hanbin would get anything from looking at them. He’s never once met anyone so closed off. “Please don’t talk to me,” Zhang Hao adds softly but with a finality that doesn’t leave room for arguing. Not that Hanbin would dare to do so.

His cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Sorry,” Hanbin quietly mutters one last time, bowing his head slightly in apology and turning around just as their teacher begins the class.

Aegi eggie? Murphy’s law sucks.

 

Hanbin’s in a weird mood for the rest of the day. That brief interaction with Zhang Hao really threw him off. He keeps thinking he should have said something different, done something different, but he’s not sure what. It doesn’t help that he can practically feel Zhang Hao’s eyes boring holes on the back of his skull the entire day. 

At lunchtime, he’s expecting to be roughly thrown against the lockers, maybe get a little punch here and there, or maybe a confrontation in the parking lot, but it never happens. Zhang Hao’s presence is fleeting, entering the cafeteria briefly with Ricky before disappearing again.  

As if the day couldn’t get any worse, the final period is Home Economics. Hell on Earth. Hanbin can’t cook, can’t sew, and can’t budget to save his life. He also can’t afford any more mediocre grades, not when he’s the top student in every other subject, and his rival’s shadow looms threateningly over his reign. Especially not when this is his last year and his parents' dreams rest heavily on his shoulders. Just the thought makes his stomach churn unpleasantly. 

Today, Mr. Kim explains about their final project: taking care of an egg. It’s not just about making sure the egg doesn’t break while it’s in their care, he says, it’s about treating it as they would treat their own baby and engaging in activities that promote intellectual, emotional, and social development.

It sounds fun. Hanbin loves taking care of people and this egg will become someone for at least two weeks. It’s way more fun than learning how to cook Kimchi-jjigae or Bungeoppang. Hanbin shivers at the memory. He ended up with his hands full of small cuts, a burn here and there, and the disappointed look from his teacher. 

“Groups will be assigned randomly,” Mr. Kim announces, much to the displeasure of the entire class. Everyone always wants to pair up with their friends, but Hanbin doesn’t really mind who he ends up with. No one here is really his friend, yet he’s cordial and polite to everyone. “Don’t complain,” the teacher scolds, voice stern, silencing the class. “You need to learn to work with every single one of your classmates, not just with your friends.”

He gathers some papers before continuing. “Before we begin, let me clarify something. Changing partners is not allowed, understood?” His classmates nod, reluctantly agreeing. “Great. So, group number one will be Sung Hanbin and Zhang Hao; group number two…”

Hanbin stiffens at the mention of his name alongside his sworn enemy. Earlier, he claimed he didn’t care who he partnered with, but that wasn’t entirely true. He does mind working with Zhang Hao, he minds it a lot, especially after today’s incident. The other boy probably hates him. God, what are the odds of this happening to him? 

He fights to keep as still as possible, concealing his discomfort, but inside his head he has already fallen to his knees and started wailing. The rest of class goes by unheard, the voice of Mr. Kim an unpleasant background noise against the swarm of thoughts that cloud his mind. 

He’s being insanely dramatic, but he has the right to be. Partnering up with Zhang Hao feels like a cruel joke from the universe. Murphy’s law is real.

“I’ll bring the eggs next week as well as the activity sheet for the groups to fill in. Start thinking about a name and what tasks you’d like to carry out during this project,” Mr. Kim says as he dismisses them for the day.

Hanbin all but runs home. 

____________________

“You got paired up with Zhang Hao?!” Gyuvin practically screams in the middle of the cafeteria once he hears the news the next day during lunch. His eyes widen in sheer disbelief, but at the same time his expression seems somewhat delighted at Hanbin’s tragic fate. “Zhang Hao? Delinquent Zhang Hao? The same guy you have been complaining about non-stop for like six months because he gets better grades than you?”

“Lower your goddamn voice, what if he hears you and wants to beat me up or something?” he hisses. After yesterday’s incident, Hanbin doesn’t think he’s on his good side. Not that anyone here is on his good side, but he might be leaning towards something even worse than not good.  “And for the record, sometimes he gets better grades than me. Just sometimes,” Hanbin adds defensively, flicking Gyuvin’s forehead. 

Sometimes is annoying enough, considering Zhang Hao doesn’t really pay attention in class, and neither takes notes. Not that Hanbin has been keeping tabs on him.

“Ouch,” Gyuvin winces, rubbing the spot where Hanbin’s flick landed. “That hurt, Hyung.” 

Hanbin sticks his tongue out at him. “You deserve it for being a meanie to me.” 

“Hyung please don’t become a delinquent,” his friend jokingly adds, clasping his hands together as if in prayer. “Although I think you’d look kinda hot with black eyeliner and piercings.” 

“Shut up right now,” Hanbin says, raising his hand teasingly, though he has no intention of hitting Gyuvin again, but it’s really funny to see the panicked expression that takes over his face. His friend squirms in his seat, getting as far away from Hanbin as possible.  “And stop laughing at me. Next year you’ll get paired up with Ricky. I manifest it.”

“Don’t say that,” Gyuvin says, hugging his body and rubbing his arms. He fake-shivers, just for the theatrics. “Ugh, I got goosebumps just thinking about it. He’s even scarier than Zhang Hao. And also, hotter.” Leaning closer, he lowers his voice for a dose of juicy gossip. “Did you guys already talk?”

“Ummm… not really,” Hanbin admits, scratching the back of his head. “I kinda, might have, could have possibly, maybe, perhaps…” 

“Hyung.” 

A heavy sigh escapes his lips. “I think I might have offended him somehow.”

“How so?” Gyuvin inquires, big, wide eyes fixed on Hanbin. 

“Yesterday he did better than me on math, but Miss Song congratulated us both instead of just him, and I thought it was unfair so I wanted so say something to him but I didn’t know what so I just said Sorry like an idiot, and then he said Please don’t talk to me , and I was like what the hell this dude is going to beat me up first chance he gets—”

Gyuvin interrupts Hanbin’s rambling with a huge hand over his mouth. “I think I got it, Hyung. Now breathe.” 

He can’t do that with Gyuvin’s hand over his mouth, so peeks his tongue out just a little to lick it. Gyuvin looks effectively disgusted. 

“I don’t like when teachers do that. But I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it,” Hanbin muses out loud. “It makes me feel like I’m their favorite, and if I want to win against him, I’d like it to be fair. Also, it’s not like he does anything bad at school, unlike other people. And they get no punishment. So. I don’t think him being a rebel or whatever is the reason why they don’t like him.” Hanbin is rambling again, but as he looks at Gyuvin, he realizes the younger one is listening intently. “I think they wouldn’t have liked him regardless of how he looks. You get my point, right?” 

His friend nods enthusiastically. “It's because he’s not from here. The same thing happens to Ricky. All teachers think he’s dumb because he talks very slowly but he’s actually super smart. I’ve seen him solve math problems in seconds.”

Hanbin knew Gyuvin would understand. “Gyuvin… how do I get him to talk to me? I need a good grade…” Hanbin asks his friend, grabbing his head with both hands. 

“Hyung, relax. Life won’t end if you’re not perfect twenty-four-seven.” Gyuvin’s attempt at consoling Hanbin almost ends in murder, as the younger slaps his back with such force it nearly knocks the air out of Hanbin’s lungs.  “Also, he will have to talk to you whether he wants to or not. Just don’t piss him off again. I’d hate to see your perfect nose getting destroyed,” Gyuvin jokes. Hanbin feels like even less air is entering his respiratory tract. “Good luck.” 

It kind of sounds ominous.

Good luck indeed.

____________________

Hanbin tries to talk to Zhang Hao for the rest of the week. Keyword: tries. 

Three things happen:

1. He chickens out at the brink of uttering a word. This is incredibly embarrassing because it doesn’t happen just once. Whenever it happens, Zhang Hao’s already shifted his attention to Hanbin, shooting him irritated glances. Which means he knows Hanbin wants to talk to him, but the moment Hanbin feels those eyes land on his face, his mind goes blank, which is really uncommon since he always knows what to say. In this scenario, he has two choices: firstly, he could wait until his neurons decide to synapse. Secondly, he could turn around in his seat, staring ahead for the remainder of class, pretending nothing had happened. The second choice always wins. It’s better to live in denial.
   
   
2. Zhang Hao bluntly tells him to leave him alone. This is also incredibly embarrassing, especially when he does it in front of Gyuvin, as Hanbin attempts to approach him at the cafeteria. Gyuvin will never let him live this down. He’s been teasing him non-stop for days. No one appreciates his efforts. He spends the entire day psyching himself up to get out of the chicken zone just to be turned down by Zhang Hao.
   
   
3. Zhang Hao scurries away like a scared cat. This is even more embarrassing, as every time they see each other in the school halls, Zhang Hao practically runs the other way at the sight of Hanbin.

 He just gives up.

Tall, dark, and handsome is a cutie?

 

Hanbin is nervous. After his numerous failed attempts to talk to Zhang Hao, the other boy has retorted to throwing icy glares at Hanbin every time he even glances in his direction, so it’s safe to say Hanbin hasn’t tried anything new to make contact with him. He does have some self-preservation, thank you very much. Those icy glares really live up to his reputation of a tough guy. The wink was much better… Hanbin should have never complained about it. 

With Mr. Kim distributing the activity sheets, all groups dive into their work, except for Hanbin and Zhang Hao. Neither seem to have any desire to move from their seats, but Hanbin really needs a good grade, and he’s not going to let a frosty, unpleasant, uncooperative and annoying boy ruin that for him. 

Determined, he rises from his seat and settles into the empty one beside Zhang Hao. “Hello, Zhang Hao-sshi,” Hanbin greets, politely bowing his head, but he receives no acknowledgement. Again. Zhang Hao’s eyes remain fixed on the sheet of paper before him. 

This is bad. He feels his cheeks redden, from embarrassment at being so blatantly ignored, or from frustration at his uncooperative classmate, he doesn’t know. But he’s been trying, he’s been trying so hard the whole week and for nothing. His patience is running thin already.

This is going to be hell. 

“Listen. I know you’d rather work with anyone else than me, but please let’s be civil and finish this project the best we can,” he says, voice strong. It wasn’t intentional, but there’s something about Zhang Hao that makes him lose his patience faster than usual, something about him that frustrates him to no end. 

That seems to get Zhang Hao’s attention. “Who said that?” he inquires, raising a thick red eyebrow and meeting Hanbin’s gaze dead on. 

Today he’s not wearing any eyeliner, Hanbin realizes, and that makes his eyes look big and brown, such a big contrast to his usual cold glare. His hair isn’t styled either, which is uncommon, as his vibrant red mop is always perfectly in place.

Hanbin’s taken aback by his question, not expecting to be spoken to after being plainly ignored for so long. “Said what?” 

“That I don’t want to work with you,” Zhang Hao clarifies, tilting his head to the side. “I haven’t said it.”

Hanbin fights the urge to scoff. It’s not like Zhang Hao needed to outright say it. Context clues exist for a reason, and he’s very good at picking them up. “Your attitude is pretty telling, Zhang Hao-sshi.” 

“What attitude?”

Is he trying to play dumb here or what? This guy really knows how to push his buttons, whether he’s doing it intentionally or not. “You just ignored me when I said hi and you also ignored me during the week. And you keep looking at me as if you want to strangle me or something,” he states, frustration palpable.

Zhang Hao smirks, devilish glint taking over his eyes. It spells danger. “Are you scared?” he whispers, leaning closer to Hanbin, so close he can feel his breath on his cheek. “You must know what it’s said about me, don’t you? What if I try to strangle you? What would you do then?”

Any other time, Hanbin would be scared. It’s not every day he’s subjected to a murderous glare from his former one-sided enemy. Now it’s mutual. He would laugh in Zhang Hao’s face at the absurdity of his words, but he doesn’t think the other boy would react well to being mocked. Also, his proximity unnerves him. 

He’s pretty up close, smooth skin, moles doting his face, plush lips and pretty eyes. He’s actually the prettiest person Hanbin’s ever seen by far, and that makes him even more nervous.

“I’m not scared. I just want you to stop ignoring me. I don’t like that.” Hanbin crosses his arms in front of his chest in an effort to get his point across. 

It’s the truth, though. Hanbin isn’t scared. He doesn’t believe half the things that are said about Zhang Hao, let alone think he would hurt him. If Hanbin’s presence was truly bothering him so much, he would have already acted upon it, yet nothing has happened.

Zhang Hao doesn’t seem convinced. Hanbin can see a flicker of doubt dance around his eyes, but Hanbin doesn’t budge; he meets his gaze straight on. It seems like he’s searching for something in his eyes—honesty, perhaps, a reason to believe in Hanbin’s words. 

His smirk fades, and he blinks many times. Hanbin watches him intently, able to pinpoint every subtle shift in his expression. When you know what to look for, it’s actually not that hard to read him. 

Zhang Hao’s eyes soften, shining with an emotion Hanbin’s never seen from him before. He smiles, genuine and warm, his cheeks mimicking two crunchy apples. His front teeth are perfectly lined. He’s probably had braces. And is that a retainer he spies on his bottom teeth? 

The tension from earlier, thick enough to cut with a knife, is gone, just like that.

“That’s good,” Zhang Hao says, and it seems sincere. Hanbin is stunned. It’s as if he’s speaking to a whole different person. His face looks completely different, hard edges gone. Was he testing him somehow? “Now that we’re on good terms, I allow you to call me Hyung.”

  Good terms? 

“Good terms?” Hanbin voices his thoughts. So, they were on bad terms before, it wasn’t just his mind making up scenarios. “Wait… Hyung?” Hanbin questions, surprised. “Are you older than me?” 

Zhang Hao hums in affirmation. “Yes, I’m nineteen.”

One year doesn’t make much of a difference, but without makeup, he looks young, very young, and that earlier smile made him look even younger. “Oh, I didn’t know that.” 

“No one knows anything about me, so consider yourself lucky,” Zhang Hao says with a wink. Ah, it’s back—that weird wink where he closes both eyes instead of one. Hanbin wonders if Zhang Hao is aware he can’t wink to save his life.

This sudden change in attitude is really messing up with Hanbin’s ability to think straight. His brain can't comprehend that this Zhang Hao, and the Zhang Hao from a minute ago, are the same person.

An egg is placed in front of them, interrupting their conversation. “Thank you, Mr. Kim,” Zhang Hao politely acknowledges their teacher, who outright ignores him.

“Wear your uniform properly,” is what he says instead. “I don’t even know how he’s admitted here with that ridiculous hair color,” Mr. Kim mutters under his breath, close enough for both boys to hear. 

Zhang Hao, well, Hyung, Hanbin reminds himself, just rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Anyway, let’s fill this thing.”

A question lingers on the front of Hanbin’s mind, and he knows he won’t be able to focus until he asks it. It seems like Zhang Hao values honesty, so he outright inquires, “Doesn’t it bother you, Zhang Hao-sshi?”

“I said call me Hyung,” he reminds him, scrunching up his eyebrows a little. “And no, it doesn’t bother me. I guess I’ve kind of earned it.” Hanbin just hums in contemplation. He doesn’t agree, but they’re just starting to get along, and he’s not about to ruin it. “Okay so, I’d like our egg to be a girl, do you agree?”

____________________

Class flies by, faster than Hanbin would’ve liked. Zhang Hao Hyung is unexpectedly talkative and kind of silly, going against every preconception Hanbin held about him. 

They end up with a girl eggie named Shiro, at Hyung’s insistence. He adorns her with puppy ears, round eyes, and… are those eyebrows? Hao-hyung insists it’s inspired by Shin-Chan’s pet dog, which is where she gets her name. 

She’s so cute, Hanbin is immediately attached. He’ll protect their daughter with his life. 

Gyuvin is waiting for him outside school so they can walk home together. Hanbin feels kind of crazy, like he just imagined what happened just minutes ago. “Gyuvinnie, pinch me. I think I’m dreaming.” 

His friend gives him a quizzical look. “What are you talking about, Hanbin-hyung? Did you piss off Zhang Hao so much he smacked you in the head and you’re hallucinating?”

“Gyuvin,” Hanbin says, grabbing his friend's shoulders. “Gyuvin,” he repeats, shaking him a little.

“Hanbin-hyung, Hanbin-hyung.” Gyuvin mirrors the gesture, although his shake is way more violent than Hanbin’s. It works. Maybe his brain needs to be roughly moved from time to time to work well.

“Gyuvin. Zhang Hao is actually cute. And nice. And he didn’t try to kill me like I thought he would,” Hanbin whispers, hoping not to be overheard by the rest of the students swarming out of school. He wants to keep this knowledge to himself, lock it in a box, and maybe eat the key so no one can ever access it. “He was a little bit scary at first but then I don’t know what got into him and he started acting… cute.”

His friend looks at him as if he’s grown another head. “Cute? The hell are you talking about! You’ve heard what people say about him, have seen him with bruises and all. How can you even say he’s cute, Hyung? Have you lost your mind?”

“Gyuvin. You don’t know him.” His voice takes on a stern tone. He’s not going to play saint and pretend he hadn’t judged Zhang Hao before, but he won’t let his friend repeat the same mistake. Not when he knows better. “Well, I don’t either, but I don’t think everything that’s said about him is true.”

“Yeah, obviously noy everything is true. You know how gossip works. Still, Hyung, a bunch of it probably is true, so be careful please, I don’t want to see your face get ruined.”

Hanbin affectionately pats his friend on the cheek. Is cute how the younger one is always worried about him. “Don’t worry about me, Gyuvinnie. I know what I’m doing.”

Pretty boy

 

Hanbin, in fact, does not know what he’s doing. Or what he just got himself into. 

Their first activity with Shiro is simple, just so that she knows more of the world beyond the four walls of Hanbin’s room or their classroom. They have two weeks to carry out as many activities with her as possible. 

Hanbin feels giddy with the prospect of spending time with the enigma that is Zhang Hao, even if the boy doesn’t seem particularly agreeable this morning. Maybe Hanbin should have suggested they meet up a little bit later, judging by the way he keeps rubbing his eyes, smudging his eyeliner all over the place. 

Zhang Hao hasn't uttered a single word in the five minutes they’ve been walking through the empty park at this time of the morning. Hanbin is thankful for the solitude, as he’s carrying Shiro in his bare hands and he’d die if something happened to her.

Counting their steps, Hanbin tries to distract himself from the awkward silence. He’s usually very good at filling quiet moments with mindless chatter, but he doesn’t think the other boy is interested in listening to him, not if his crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows are anything to go by. 

Hanbin keeps stealing glances at him, just to try to guess what’s on his mind, but comes up empty-handed. He’s a little bit scared of going back to the way they were before. That wouldn’t be good.

Zhang Hao’s hand gripping his empty one brings them to a halt. Hanbin is tempted to pull away out of sheer surprise and because the other boy’s hand is freezing, but he resists the urge. The touch feels oddly comforting. 

“I brought a little something,” Zhang Hao says, looking down, a blush tinting his cheeks, likely from the cold. Hanbin can’t fathom someone like him blushing. He rummages through his backpack, retrieving a small, white fluffy bag, with two long ears by its each side. He presents it to Hanbin like a prize, still not daring to meet his eyes. “We can put Shiro here. Like a little carrier. She’s kind of a puppy, right? I thought this would be suitable…” He looks up, shyly meeting Hanbin’s eyes. “Ummm… do you like it?”

Hanbin nods enthusiastically, squeezing the hand he’s still holding before accepting the fluffy bag from Zhang Hao. “It’s really perfect, Hao-hyung. I love it.” 

Hyung claps his hands like a happy kid, rosy apple cheeks on display and that dumb, endearing smile illuminating his face, such a stark contrast to the quiet boy he was just minutes ago. Hanbin’s heart certainly feels the consequences of his cold-and-hot demeanor, as his chest is kind of weirdly aching. He briefly puts his hand over it and wow, it’s kind of beating wildly too, making him mildly concerned.

“I’m glad you liked it,'' Hyung says, taking Shiro and carefully placing her inside her new carrier. Hanbin notices it’s filled with soft cotton, providing a cozy nest for their little aeggie. His chest aches even more. “You’re all safe now, our baby.” He tenderly strokes the top of Shiro’s head before pointing to the swings. “Should we let her use the swings?”

Hanbin could never refuse him, not when it’s clear in his face that he’s the one who wants to play for a little bit. “Good idea. You take Shiro, I’ll push you,” Hanbin suggests, and it’s the right thing, as Zhang Hao’s face splits with a blinding smile.

“Let’s go then,” he says, bounding toward the swings, clutching Shiro tightly to his chest. He stumbles along the way, prompting laughter from Hanbin. His bad boy reputation is nowhere in sight.

Hyung gets in position, bag slung over his shoulder and Shiro peeking curiously from the top. He’s about to start moving, but Hanbin stops him, “Wait, let me get a picture first.”

It’s for the project, he tells himself. He totally won’t look at it before falling asleep. He absolutely won’t marvel at the way Zhang Hao’s eyes shine with happiness, or how cute he looks holding the fluffy bag, contrasting against his all-black outfit, black-rimmed eyes and black nails. Definitely not.

“Are you having fun?” Hanbin asks a few minutes into it. His arms ache from pushing Hao-hyung, but if the older boy is enjoying himself, he’s not stopping until they fall off. 

“Yeeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhh,” Hyung squeaks, sounding like a crow. He’s a funny guy.

Their session is interrupted by someone screaming, “Zhang Hao! Long time no see friend.”

Hanbin recognizes the voice instantly, hears it every day at school. He doesn’t need to turn to know that notorious school bully, Dongmin, is right behind them. Hate is a strong word, but if there’s someone Hanbin truly despises, it would be him. He’s been terrorizing everyone for ages, yet no one at school does a thing. It’s almost like teachers are scared of him.

Hyung grinds to a halt, dragging his feet, kicking up a cloud of dust. When Hanbin sees him, his face has transformed, hard ridges and a deep frown settled between his eyebrows. He looks nothing like the silly carefree dude enjoying the children’s playground just moments ago. 

“Get behind me,” he commands, giving Hanbin the bag that contains their egg daughter and pulling him by the arm to rearrange their position, using his build to shield him. Not that he’s really hiding him—Hanbin’s broader and they’re about the same height—but in the face of danger, his aura alone seems to make him grow taller and bigger. Dangerous. “I’m not your friend,” he states, stone-cold.

Hanbin peeks from behind Hyung's shoulder to get a good look at Dongmin’s face, and damn, he looks like shit. His eyes are bloodshot, probably from a night of drinking with his other stupid friends and there’s a cigarette dangling from his left hand. It stinks.

“Oh, you’re here with Hanbin?” Dongmin feigns surprise.

Hao-hyung practically growls his next words. “Don’t look at him. Don’t talk to him.” 

Dongmin doesn’t listen. “Good morning Hanbinnie,” he says, trying to take a peek at the hiding form behind Zhang Hao. 

Big mistake. Hyung surges forward, seizing Dongmin by the front of his shirt. “Do you want to repeat what happened last time, Dongminnie?” Dongmin blanches. Hanbin can only imagine what happened. It probably didn’t end well for him. “I already said it. Don’t talk to him, don’t even look at him. If you do, I’ll make sure you can never speak again. I don’t want to repeat myself a second time.” He shoves him, Dongmin falling flat on his ass. “Get the fuck out of here now.” 

Dongmin scurries away, like the coward he is. All bark and no bite.  

And wow. That was kind of… erm… hot. Hanbin knows violence doesn’t solve anything, but there’s something rewarding about seeing someone who thinks they’re mighty and untouchable, someone who terrorizes others and gets away with it, get beaten at their own dirty game. 

Not to mention how Hyung’s first instinct was to protect him. That makes Hanbin feel funny, but it’s a thought he’s not willing to dwell on right now. Maybe later, in the comfort of his room and away from the root of these… feelings.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose it like that,” Zhang Hao apologizes, taking Shiro from Hanbin and saying, “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Shiro.” He locks eyes with Hanbin then, the coldness and rage from earlier gone from his voice. “Are you scared of me? You know I’m not actually going to do anything bad to him, right?” He seems afraid of Hanbin’s answer, looking down at the ground. “I just hate him so much, he’s been mean to Ricky and to many other people, and Ricky is just a baby, no one can be mean to him and I don’t—”

“Hyung, you don’t need to explain yourself,” Hanbin interjects, squeezing his hand. “Dongmin is a scumbag, and you’re not, that’s all I need to know. And you’re not scary either. You’re cute.” Hanbin feels the blush spreading across his face at his admission, but it’s worth it, as Zhang Hao goes bright red as well, a shocked expression taking over. But it’s not just shock. He’s also… giddy? Elated even? 

“Cute?” His voice is high pitched as he lets out an incredulous laugh. “I’ve been called many things in my life, but never cute. But your opinion is more important than anyone else’s, so I guess I’m cute now.” Hanbin smiles, big and bright enough to show his dimples, it seems, as Hyung pokes one of them. “Thank you, pretty boy with whiskers.”  

The smile vanishes from his face as quickly as it appeared. “What?” he asks, dumbfounded.  

Zhang Hao smirks, a devilish glint in his eyes, and he looks so, so dangerous, but it’s a different kind of danger from earlier. A danger for Hanbin’s heart, this time. “Oh? Pretty boy doesn’t know he’s pretty? We should fix that.” He punctuates his statement with that poorly executed wink of his, and he’s so, so, so endearing Hanbin might just die. 

This playful side of him… it’s jarring to know that it exists.

“Fix what?” Hanbin asks dumbly. He can’t believe they’re having this conversation right now.

Zhang Hao seems to think for a moment, hand resting on his chin. “I’ll call you pretty every day from now on so you never forget it, how about that?” he says, completely ignoring Hanbin’s question. 

“How about what?”

Hyung ignores him again, throwing Shiro’s bag over his shoulder and lacing their arms like an old couple, pulling him away from the playground. “You should be honored, not many people get called pretty by Zhang Hao.” He trips once more, but Hanbin’s there to support him this time. “Oops.”

“Why are you talking in third person?” It’s the only thing Hanbin can come up with. Tonight, he won’t be able to sleep, replaying this scene over and over in his head, cringing at every word he’s said so far.

Hyung just laughs. “Let’s go get ice cream for breakfast, Hanbinnie. I think Shiro would like that.”

Mandatory beach episode

 

On the weekend, they take Shiro to see the beach. Zhang Hao picks up Hanbin at the crack of dawn, or so he claims, and the first thing Hanbin thinks as he opens the door is how much he’d like to wrap the sleepy boy on a blanket and hug him until he falls asleep. He looks adorable, eyes barely open, all bundled up in a thick winter jacket. For such a bad boy, he really is a cutie.

Hyung sleeps the whole way there, his head resting on Hanbin’s shoulder. After a while, it becomes uncomfortable, but Hanbin doesn’t dare move, not when the dark circles under his eyes are more pronounced than ever. 

He looks so baby like this, no makeup darkening his beautiful eyes, hair tousled into odd places, and the most peaceful expression Hanbin’s ever seen on his face. It’s easy to forget Hyung's also young, especially when he acts all grown-up and mature at all times, especially when he seems to carry the burden of protecting everyone on his shoulders.

It’s terribly cold today, winter looming ahead, yet the beach looks beautiful, surrounded by a light fog that gives it a magical aura. Hanbin takes Shiro out of her bag, adjusting the little wool beanie he had his mom crochet for her so she doesn’t get cold. 

Hyung all but runs towards the sand, suddenly awake, marveling at the sight. “It’s so pretty here. I hadn't seen the beach in so long,” he says, eyes shining with child-like wonder. Hanbin’s heart beats fast in his chest, and he doesn’t think it’s solely from carrying all the bags they’ve brought today. 

There’s something, someone, much prettier than the beach. Someone Hanbin can’t take his eyes away from. 

Zhang Hao keeps running around, burying his feet in the sand, playing with it. “Join me, kitty”, he screams at Hanbin, who’s been arranging the things his mom prepared for their impromptu beach picnic. There’s a little bit of everything—tea and coffee for the cold weather, sandwiches, home-made cookies, hard-boiled eggs, and hotteok. 

Hanbin joins him, running around the beach with Zhang Hao without a care in the world. It feels nice, freeing, being here with him, salted air coating his face, lungs burning from the exertion of running when his body is not used to exercising anymore. 

They play a weird version of chase until Zhang Hao trips once more and face-plants into the ground. Hanbin laughs so hard he has to wrap his arms around his belly. This guy really has poor balance. 

Hao-hyung honest to God pouts at him, sprawled on the sand like a starfish. “Why are you laughing at my misfortune?” he whines. Hanbin offers him a hand, still laughing, but he pulls him down with so much force that Hanbin falls on top of him. He tries to use his arms to get some of his weight off Zhang Hao, but the other boy just wraps his arms around Hanbin’s middle, pulling him closer. They’re in a precarious position, faces mere centimeters apart and Hanbin right in between Hao-hyung’s legs. “You’re a meanie. I bet no one knows you’re like this,” he whines. Hanbin can feel his breath on his lips, can see the cloud of steam forming from the cold.

“Only to you, Hyung,” Hanbin whispers.

“I’m lucky then. Hanbinnie trusts me enough to show what he’s been hiding.”

Trust? That’s a big word. 

Hanbin usually finds it hard to place his trust in people, which is why his friend group is limited to Gyuvinnie, whom he’s known since he was on his mother’s belly. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes Hyung is actually right. He’s usually polite, never playful. If it had been anyone else, Hanbin wouldn’t have laughed in their face; instead, he would have offered his help right away.

So yeah, they might not really know much about each other, Zhang Hao might still be a puzzle to him, and they might have started talking to each other only a handful of days ago, but he kind of trusts him. He trusts him enough to reveal a side of himself that remains hidden most of the time, and Hanbin thinks it’s the same for Hao-hyung. 

Hanbin can’t help but steal a glance at lips, plump and shiny. His mouth dries. He’d love to see if they taste like the strawberry lip balm he’s been applying all morning. Zhang Hao coughs, and Hanbin looks at him. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t dare to meet Hanbin’s eyes, bashful. 

“Should we go eat something? I’m a little bit hungry.”

Hanbin nods, standing up and helping him. It’s kind of awkward to look at him when Hanbin was very clearly staring at his lips and daydreaming about kissing him, so they eat in strained silence for a while. 

It reminds Hanbin of their first conversation, which in retrospect was… not that long ago. It’s crazy how fast their relationship has developed in just a few days, but it also feels natural, like they’ve been doing this—going on trips, being playful with each other, having picnics at the beach—their entire lives. 

There's something about Zhang Hao, something that makes it easy for Hanbin to trust him.

Hyung breaks the silence when he tries the hotteok. “Wow, this is really good. Your mom made it, right? Tell her I said thanks.”

Hanbin smiles at him. “I’ve been talking non-stop about you at home, Hyung. She’s been begging me to bring you over.” Embarrassment washes over him at his unplanned honesty, but it’s worth it, as Zhang Hao brightens up.

“Really? Do you think she’d like me?” Hanbin nods enthusiastically, but the other boy’s cheery mode seems to dampen a little bit. “Moms don’t really like me that much.”

Ah, Hanbin can guess why, but his mom is not like that. She’s not one to judge a book by its cover, not like most people do, and Hanbin has only spoken wonders about Hao-hyung to her. “I think she’d love you.” 

“You mean it?” he asks, hopeful. Hanbin nods. “Then I’d like to meet her,” Zhang Hao says with a sweet smile. Hanbin's chest tightens once more. 

This time the silence that settles between them is comfortable, but it’s not completely quiet. The sound of waves crashing against the shore is relaxing, and Hanbin can see out of the corner of his eyes the way his eyes droop. He tries to fight against it, but it’s a lost battle. 

“Are you tired, Hyung?” Hanbin softly asks, taking the mug of tea from Zhang Hao’s hands so he doesn’t spill it in his sleepy state and guiding his head to his lap. He goes with it, happily sighing once he’s comfortable. 

“Yes, I didn’t sleep much last night,” he explains as Hanbin drapes another fluffy blanket over his cold body. 

“Why not?”

“I had a double shift yesterday,” Zhang Hao responds, closing his eyes as Hanbin starts running his fingers through his red strands, lightly scratching his scalp. It’s soft, softer than he imagined for a hair that’s probably been dyed many times.

“You work?” Hanbin asks, surprise evident in his voice. 

“It’s just me and my mom here,” he quietly answers. 

And oh. That explains it. Explains how sometimes he gets to school with messy hair and big purple bags under his eyes. Explains why he nods off in class, why he can’t be bothered to take notes. Hanbin feels a pang of guilt, remorse for judging him back then without understanding his circumstances.

“Why are you making that face?”

“I’m not making any face,” Hanbin retorts, though he knows he definitely was.

“Yes, you’re scrunching your nose like a kitty that smelled something disgusting.” Hyung lets out a scandalized gasp, “Do I smell?”

“Hao.” 

“Hao? Respect your elders!” His feigned indignation is amusing, the way he exaggeratedly furrows his eyebrows and pouts his lips. “Where did your perfect manners go, pretty boy?”

“Don’t call me that,” Hanbin chides, feeling his cheeks grow warm. It’s not the time to dwell on that, though. He needs Hyung to carefully listen to his next words. “If you need help with anything, you should let me know. You’re not alone.”

Zhang Hao stays silent for a while, lost in thought, eyes fixed on the clouded sky. Hanbin thinks their conversation might be over, but his next words hit like a punch to his gut, making his chest ache for this beautiful boy once more. “I’ve been alone most of my life.”

“Well, now you have me,” Hanbin says, and it's a promise. He never breaks promises. “You can sleep, if you’d like. I’ll look after Shiro and make sure you don’t die of hypothermia.”

Hyung smiles, small and content, before closing his eyes. “I know you will.”

____________________

“Hyungieee,” Gyuvin greets him on Monday as Hanbin joins him in the cafeteria for lunch. His face is smug, his eyebrows wiggling up and down. He looks ridiculous. Hanbin wants to hit him. “How was your date with Hao-hyung?”

“It wasn’t a date,” Hanbin responds, and it sounds like bullshit even to his own ears. He’s never been on a date, but it surely felt like one. Especially when Zhang Hao felt safe enough to fall asleep on Hanbin’s arms, face nestled near his belly, arms securely wrapped around his middle. Hanbin’s cheeks redden at the memory. “And it was actually really nice. He’s… different.”

“Different how?”

“Remember how I told you he’s cute?” Gyuvin nods. “Well, he’s actually silly and kind of childish too. We get along really well.” It’s an understatement, really. They get along more than well. Sometimes it feels as if they’ve known each other for much longer than they actually have.

“Are you blushing?” His friend practically screams, hitting his arm. Gyuvin's eyes widen as if he’s on the verge of discovering a secret. Hanbin knows what he’s about to ask. “Hyung… do you like him?”

 “Kim Gyuvin!”

“Who would have thought hyungie would like bad boys…” Hanbin’s about to scold him, but their conversation is interrupted by the clatter of a lunch tray landing on their table.

“Who is the bad boy?” A mop of red hair and black-rimmed eyes takes a seat next to him. “Hello, pretty kitty,” Hao-hyung greets, squishing Hanbin’s cheeks. Gyuvin snickers, diverting the older’s attention. “Hello to you too, pretty kitty’s friend. Mind if I join?”

“You’re already sitting, Hyung,” Hanbin deadpans, trying to swat Zhang Hao’s hand away from his face. 

“Pretty kitty?!” Gyuvin squeaks, but is ignored by both. Zhang Hao is busy getting Shiro from her fluffy bag.

“I brought our baby with me,'' Hyung says, passing their aeggie to Hanbin. He’s adorned her even more, glued a little pink bow to one of her drawn ears. She’s adorable, just like her dad, Hanbin thinks before mentally reprimanding himself. Now isn’t the time to think about that, not with Gyuvin’s inquisitive eyes monitoring them like a hawk. “She misses her other dad way too much.” 

Hanbin blushes. Again.

“Should I leave you lovebirds alone?” The little rascal who dares to call himself his friend mocks them.

“Kim Gyuvin! I will beat you up!” Hanbin shouts at the retreating form of his younger friend, who turns around to blow Hanbin a kiss. 

The one that fights and runs away, lives to fight another day. 

“You’re a bad boy, Hanbinnie. And here I thought I was the delinquent…” 

Shiro’s first snow

 

School is boring today. Hanbin’s on the verge of nodding off more times than he’d care to admit. If it weren’t for Hyung’s pencil prodding his back every now and then, he’d likely have already earned himself a scolding for falling asleep. 

Lately, sleep hasn’t come easy to him. His dreams are filled with a mop of bright red hair, big round eyes and a sweet smile. Half the time, he can’t even remember what he dreams, but he knows they’re anything but innocent, waking up drenched in sweat and with a fluttering feeling on his lower stomach. 

At lunchtime it’s just the two of them since Gyuvin went down with the flu and won’t be at school for a few days. Hyung takes him to the rooftop, an area strictly off-limits to students. Hanbin’s heart races as he expects him to break the door to get them in, but instead, he produces a key. Hanbin is utterly baffled.  

“How did you get that?” he asks as Zhang Hao locks the door from the outside so they can be prepared and hide if someone comes up.

“I stole it. Hehe.” The mischievous smile he flashes Hanbin only adds to the confusion. He doesn’t have it himself to nag him about it, not when he looks so delighted to be up here. 

“From whom?”

“It’s a secret,” Zhang Hao answers, placing his finger on Hanbin’s lips. “Will you keep a secret for me, Hanbinnie?”

Hanbin nods, finding it hard to form coherent thoughts with Zhang Hao so close, their shoes nearly touching. “Anything for you.” And it’s true. He would do anything for Zhang Hao, even something as reckless as sneaking into a forbidden area using stolen keys.

It’s really nice up here, though. Hyung brought a blanket, so they sit on the floor, enjoying their lunch in serene silence. The city sprawls below them, dominated by tall buildings and bustling streets. 

“Where’s Ricky?” Hanbin asks, suddenly curious at the lack of a bleached blonde head. They haven’t been properly introduced yet, but he used to see him all the time alongside Hao-hyung, and these past few days he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Went down with the flu.” Just like Gyuvin. There must be a virus going around their class, Hanbin thinks. “He’s been acting weird lately… I think he likes someone. And he didn’t tell me.”

Hanbin laughs at Hyung’s indignant tone.  “I haven’t seen you guys together lately.”

His demeanor changes, voice taking on a somber edge. “I sent him off to make more friends. I won’t be here next year after all. He needs to learn how to be on his own.”  

He feels responsible over Ricky, is what Hanbin gathers. Responsible over his safety, over his comfort in this foreign place, over his future. Him and Gyuvin would make good friends. Maybe he should introduce them someday, to make the older boy’s burden a little bit lighter.  

The chill of winter hangs in the air, strong winds causing Zhang Hao to shiver occasionally, ruffling his bright red hair, stark contrast against the gray background. His nose is red too, and every time he breathes through his mouth a cloud of smoke comes out. Hanbin notices him subtly edging closer, seeking his body warmth.

Hanbin’s used to being alone. Gyuvin is his only regular companion and they’re not together all the time due to their different schedules. He’s always valued solitude, as it’s something that’s made him grow wiser and thoughtful. Yet here, quietly enjoying the company of someone who’s just as accustomed to solitude as he is, Hanbin’s heart feels strangely full, as if something was missing before but he’d never realized it. 

His thoughts are interrupted by something cold and wet landing on the tip of his nose. It startles Hao-hyung out of his mind, who dramatically gasps at the sensation. “Oh…” he says, touching a wet spot on his cheek. “What’s happening?”

Hanbin sees it, then—his redhead covered with little white snowflakes, his rosy cheeks, his pink nose, the metal on his ears, his gleaming eyes. Winter suits him, makes him look even more beautiful, softer around the edges. Or maybe he’s always been like that, deep down. 

“Hyung, it’s snowing! The first snowfall of the year,” Hanbin announces, taking him by the hand to seek shelter. “Let’s go inside. You’ll get wet and we can’t go home yet.” The other boy seems reluctant to leave, marveling at the snowfall around them, so Hanbin takes charge, practically dragging him towards the door and stealing the keys from his pocket. 

Once they’re under cover, Hanbin notices the way Zhang Hao’s body trembles, despite his efforts to hide it. “Come on, put this on,” Hanbin says, removing his scarf and wrapping it around Zhang Hao’s neck. He buries himself in its warmth, breathing deeply into the thick wool. “Why didn’t you bring a scarf today?”

“I forgot,” he responds absentmindedly. “It’s so pretty.” Hyung keeps looking around, blinking rapidly, mouth slightly open, as if he can’t fully comprehend what his eyes are seeing. It is pretty indeed, Hanbin thinks, but he’s not looking at the snow. “Can we play with it for a little while?” he asks.

The bell rings, saving Hanbin from having to say no to him. “After class.”

“Promise?” He extends his pinky, earning a chuckle from Hanbin at the childish gesture, yet he indulges him nonetheless, intertwining their pinkies together. 

“Promise.”

____________________

“Hanbinnie, should we play in the snow for a bit?” is the first thing Hao-hung says once they’re outside their classroom, free for the day. 

He’s impatient, fidgeting with his hands and tapping his foot rhythmically on the floor. He’s also giving the stink eye to anyone who even dares approach them, even if they’re only passing by. 

The concept of people being scared of such a cutie patootie is really crazy to Hanbin now that he’s actually gotten to know him, but he’s not in the mood to talk to anyone other than Hao-hyung either, so he’s actually thankful he’s perfected the art of intimidation.

Hanbin pretends to think for a few seconds, just to see the annoyed expression Zhang Hao throws at him. So easy to rile up. “Walk me home and I’ll give you some mittens so we can play in the snow with Shiro. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.” Hyung claps his hands, bouncing up and down with excitement. So much for the tough guy act from just minutes ago. 

A group of boys from their class stares at them, seemingly perplexed by Zhang Hao’s change in demeanor. Hanbin is annoyed; he thought they were alone. This side of Hyung is only reserved for him, not for prying eyes of strangers.

“Is there anything we can help you with?” Hanbin inquires, a pleasant smile plastered on his face. He tries to make it as fake as possible, so the guys realize that he’s actually not happy about their curiosity. 

Zhang Hao stands tall beside him, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed. Despite his fluffy coat and scarf, he’s trying his best to maintain his thought image by vibes alone. 

Hanbin finds it amusing how he sometimes acts like his personal bodyguard. It’s mutual, though; Hanbin is also always protecting him from something, whether it’s his clumsy feet or his forgetful mind.

The boys scatter immediately, not daring to say a single word. Good. Hanbin isn’t in the mood for mindless chatter with unimportant people.

Hyung is snickering behind him, trying to hide his amusement behind his hands, but Hanbin can see right through him.

Thankfully, Hanbin had a small umbrella stored in his locker. It’s barely enough to cover them both, so they have to huddle close to fit under it. Hanbin tries to sneakily tilt it toward Zhang Hao’s side so he doesn’t get wet, but he notices right away and firmly grips Hanbin’s hand to prevent it from happening again.

Once they arrive home, Hanbin offers him to come inside for tea, but Hyung’s eyes are already fixated on the snow. Hanbin hurries inside to grab a pair of gloves, not wanting him to burn his hands, as Zhang Hao is impatient enough to just raw-dog it. 

Hanbin knows Zhang Hao is not a kid and can take care of himself, but he seems sensitive to the cold and… yeah. He worries. Also, he doesn’t want to deal with a whiny baby later. 

As soon as Hanbin steps outside, Hyung rushes towards him, hands outstretched, fingers wiggling. It takes him exactly two breaths to realize that he wants Hanbin to help him put on the gloves, which, naturally, he does.

“Thank you, Hanbinnie,” he says with a small, sweet smile, just before diving into the snow. 

Hanbin watches him for a while, how he carefully places Shiro on a bed of snow, how content he is by just burying his hands in it. There’s a syrupy warmth filling his veins, making its way to his heart. He’s never been happier seeing someone this happy, enjoying something so simple.

“Let me take a picture of Shiro,” Hanbin says, pulling out his phone. “Her first snow.” He snaps at least ten pictures of her, some with Zhang Hao right beside her. This is good evidence for their project, but also a memento of a moment where Hanbin felt truly happy. “Our baby, so cute.”

“It’s my first snow as well,” Zhang Hao mentions once Hanbin is done with their little photoshoot. Hyung is sculpting a small snowman right next to their baby egg, and he’s somehow managed to give it doggy ears just like Shiro’s. “I need a pink bow so they can match…” he muses out loud, hands on his waist as he inspects his work.

Ah, so that’s where this excitement is coming from. “Really?” 

“Yes. It didn’t snow where I lived before, and I arrived here when the weather had already changed to spring.”

Hanbin gets an idea. “I’ll take a picture of you too, then. To commemorate your first snow,” he says, feeling a sudden nervousness.

Is it weird for a boy to have another boy’s pictures on his phone? He doesn’t know, but it feels right. He wouldn't be opposed to the idea of his phone filled with Hyung’s pictures. He wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of having one of those pictures as his lock-screen wallpaper, either. 

Maybe it is kind of weird… 

Hao-hyung is excited by the idea and lies on the ground, arms and legs moving, making a snow angel. The layer of snow is already thick enough, enveloping him in a white halo. Against the backdrop of streetlights, he looks almost ethereal. A winter prince, Hanbin thinks while taking a million pictures of him. Most come out blurry, but they’re perfect. 

His cheeks hurt from smiling. “My baby, so cute,” Hanbin says under his breath, echoing his words from earlier. 

Zhang Hao hears him, “I’m not a baby, I’m a tough guy.” He holds his hands up, fists balled, looking like anything but a tough guy in Hanbin’s opinion, so he just raises one eyebrow at him. Hyung huffs in response. “Help me up,” he demands, extending his hand for Hanbin to take. Hanbin isn’t expecting to be pulled down, so he lets out a very embarrassing shriek and falls right next to Zhang Hao. Laughter bubbles out of him at Hanbin’s shocked expression. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not. This is the second time you’ve done this to me,” Hanbin whines, but deep down (maybe not so deep down), he’s having a really good time, even if his pants are soaking wet and uncomfortably clinging to his legs. 

“Give me your phone,” Zhang Hao asks, and Hanbin complies without hesitation. “Say cheese,” Hyung instructs, using the tip of his nose to unlock the front camera. 

They smile, squishing their cheeks together. The first picture is a bit blurry, given Hao-hyung’s oversized mittens. They sneak Shiro into the frame for the second one, completing their little family portrait. 

Family? Hanbin almost panics at the thought, swiftly pushing it aside. 

With the task complete, the older boy leans his head on Hanbin’s shoulder, wrapping his arm around his waist. He sighs happily, even though he’s shivering, bones and flesh made of snow. 

Hanbin’s heart swells at the sight of Hao-hyung’s contentment over something as simple as this. “I’m happy we get to spend your first snow together,” Hanbin confesses, whispering the words close to Zhang Hao’s ear, for his ears only.

“I’m happy too,” he whispers back, resting his chin on Hanbin’s chest, fluttering his snow-dusted eyelashes at him.  

This closeness should feel awkward, unnatural, Hanbin thinks, yet it’s not. It allows him to see the shift in Zhang Hao’s gaze, the faraway glaze around his eyes. 

“What’s on your mind?” Hanbin asks, drawing him back to the present.

Hao-hyung focuses again, his gaze piercing Hanbin’s soul. “Us,” he answers, cryptic yet sincere. 

“In what way?”

He takes his sweet time, cheek resting against Hanbin’s heart. Anticipation tingles in Hanbin’s veins. “Don’t you think it’s crazy how a week ago we had never exchanged a single word, and now we’re friends?”

“You think of me as your friend?” 

Hyung nods, eyes earnest. Hanbin can’t help but notice how his eyeliner has smudged, probably from the wet atmosphere, yet that doesn’t make him any less pretty, quite the opposite. “Yes.”

“I… thanks.” Hanbin feels shyness creeping up his spine, his neck, his face. He feels seen, appreciated. “You’re my friend too,” he adds, in case it wasn’t clear. “I don’t have many friends, as you’ve noticed.”

“Me neither.”

“We’re meant for each other, then.”

“I guess we are,” Hao-hyung answers with a smile, the one that makes his cheeks turn into apples. Hanbin smiles too, dimples showing. “Kitty,” the other boy mutters, poking his cheek.

____________________

Later, engulfed in the quietness of his room, Hanbin revisits the pictures. He’s been avoiding his phone like the plague, throwing it as far away from his bed as possible. As if it would poison him to touch it.

He was right, he thinks, eyes fixed on the screen. It’s Hao-hyung and him, framed in white, faces so close not even a needle could find space between them.

But what steals Hanbin’s breath, what makes his heart race, is the look in his own eyes. He’s not looking at the camera, but at Zhang Hao instead. 

He’s indeed been poisoned, and he’s not sure if there’s a cure for it. 

If he makes the picture his lockscreen, well, no one has to know.

Shiro hears classical music for the first time

 

“Like a proper Asian household, we must teach our daughter how to play an instrument,” Zhang Hao declares after class. 

They’ve been brainstorming activities for Shiro, and Hanbin finds he quite likes this suggestion. He believes the teacher will like it too. After all, exposing babies to music is beneficial to them.

“Do you even know how to play an instrument, Hyung?” Hanbin asks as they walk side by side. 

Hao-hyung leads the way, arms interlaced as they stroll down the corridor, drawing soft gasps from the rest of the students. They try to conceal it behind raised hands, and Hanbin even notices someone attempting to discreetly snap a picture of them. They’ve become quite the hot topic lately, but Hyung seems unfazed, so Hanbin doesn’t mind either.

“Most certainly, dear,” Zhang Hao replies, causing Hanbin’s heart to flutter at the pet name, even if it’s likely used in jest.  “I have cultivated the art of playing the violin for many years. Join me in the music room, and I’ll demonstrate my magnificent skills to you and our daughter.”

The violin? Hanbin struggles to picture him playing such a delicate instrument, but at the same time, he can. Hyung’s hands are rough, yet soft and dainty. 

Hanbin finds it challenging to decipher him most of the time, given the constant contradictions he’s found in him. Sometimes, it feels like he’s observing someone at war with himself, someone willing to do anything to hide what’s really inside. 

“Why are you talking like that?” Hanbin asks, the only response that comes to mind.

Hyung sulks, stretching his mouth in a well-known pout. “Don’t be a meanie and indulge me.”

Hanbin’s about to do just that, because, truly, he’s not able to deny this little big guy anything. That thought should concern him. But before he can react, an unpleasant voice disrupts their peaceful walk.

“Oh, look who we have here. Hello, Hao’s newest shiny toy.” It’s Dongmin and his ugly face. He takes a step towards Hanbin, reaching out for him, but Zhang Hao intercepts him before he can touch him “Our dear Hanbinnie, so naive. Do you think he actually likes you?” he taunts. “He doesn’t like anyone and no one likes him back.”

“Move out of here. Stop bothering Hanbin," Zhang Hao demands, voice hard.

“Or what?

“I don’t think you’d like to find out.” 

Hanbin catches the sardonic smile contorting Zhang Hao’s face. He shudders at the mere thought of facing such an expression, but it seems like Dongmin has no sense of self-preservation, as he continues to provoke them. 

“Why do you keep hanging out with this cockroach, Hanbin? Aren’t you afraid he’ll do something to you?”

Hanbin’s patience wears thin. He’s had enough of Dongmin’s antics. Placing his hand on Hao-hyung’s shoulder, he stands firmly beside him. “The only cockroach here is you. Stop insulting Hao-hyung and don’t talk to me ever again,” Hanbin asserts, surprising Dongmin. Good. Enough is enough, and Hanbin has the means to defend himself. “Let’s go Hyung, he’s not worth our time.” 

Taking Zhang Hao by the hand, they leave Dongmin behind without looking back. All Hanbin can focus on is the weight of Zhang Hao’s cold hand on his, how their fingers fit together perfectly. His hand is a little bigger than Hanbin’s, fingers long and slender, but not smooth. 

He leads them to the music room, where Hyung intended to take them before the interruption. It’s empty, just the two of them and a grand piano right in the corner. The weak winter sun casts a golden shadow through the windows, with specks of dust dancing in the air. 

Suddenly, Zhang Hao traps Hanbin against the wall. His eyes are soft, short lashes brushing over his cheeks. The sunlight reflects on his hair, making it seem even more vibrant than usual. “My kitty, showing his claws to defend his Hyung,” he murmurs, their hands still intertwined. “Thank you, Hanbinnie.” 

“I won’t let anyone call you ugly names. Especially if it’s far from who you really are.” 

“Ah…” he starts, scratching the back of his head and seeming almost bashful.  “Thank you, but there’s no need. People can think what they please.” Before Hanbin has the chance to respond, Hao-hyung turns around, searching for something. “Um… there’s no violin in here. This school is seriously lacking…” he sighs. He’s right. The instrument variety is disappointing: a few guitars, metallophones, and flutes, with the piano as the main attraction. “I’ll have to bring you home to show you someday, then. What do you say?” 

“That would be nice.” 

“Okay… what can we do…” Zhang Hao musses aloud, pacing around. “Do you want me to teach you how to play the piano?” He places Shiro’s carrier on top of the piano and unzips it slightly, revealing her drawn eyes.

“You can play the piano too?” Hanbin asks, approaching Hyung’s figure.

There’s silence for one, two, three seconds, as Zhang Hao seems entranced with what’s in front of him. His gaze is lost on memories, so far away Hanbin’s a little bit scared he’s going to lose him to the flurry of longing exuding from his every pore. His right hand grazes the keys, producing a soft sound. 

“A little bit. I used to take classes back in China.” His voice is soft, merely a whisper.

“And you don’t anymore?” Hanbin asks with the same tenderness, fingers grazing Zhang Hao’s wrist.

“I don’t really have time nowadays,” Zhang Hao says, trying to appear unaffected. Yet Hanbin catches a glimpse of that yearning, so unrestrained earlier, in his eyes. Music might be something important for him, something that shaped him into what he is today, for better or for worse. That’s something for future Hanbin to figure out. 

Taking a deep breath, Zhang Hao commands him to, “Sit here,” grabbing Hanbin by the shoulders and directing him towards a narrow stool in front of the piano. Hyung sits next to him, a tight fit for two taller than-average teenagers. It’s nice, though, the feel of Zhang Hao’s side, pressed right against his. 

Unsure of what to do, Hanbin keeps his hands tightly balled in two fists right on top of his thighs. “Can I touch your hand?” Hao-hyung asks, palm stretched out.

Hanbin nods, but the other boy seems to need verbal confirmation, waiting until Hanbin says, “Yes.”

His hand is so, so cold, a sharp contrast against Hanbin’s warmth. His knuckles are red, flaky skin on his fingers. Winter is really harsh on him, body unprepared to withstand such extreme temperatures.

“I’ll teach you something easy. How about Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star? I think Shiro would like that,” he says, smiling at their egg daughter. Hanbin knows she’s not alive, but it seems like her little ears move in happiness at Zhang Hao’s words.

Hanbin nods, but he isn’t looking at him, “Yes.” 

Hyung snorts, giving him a funny look. “Is yes all you can say?” Hanbin is about to embarrass himself even further and say ‘yes’ once more, but Zhang Hao saves him from his misery. “Actually, don’t answer that kitty. Let’s start the lesson.”

Hand in hand, Hyung instructs him to lift one finger. Supposedly, this is a very easy song to play, something along the lines of do, do, sol, sol, la, something, something, something. 

Hanbin isn’t paying attention to Zhang Hao’s instructions. How could he, when the boy that fills mind is standing incredibly close, so close for Hanbin to count every eyelash adorning his beautiful eyes, every mole marking his face. He has so many, like a constellation. 

His lips look so pretty up close, plump and shiny, and so incredibly kiss—

“Are you paying any attention?” Zhang Hao’s voice cuts through Hanbin’s inappropriate thoughts, halting his movements and directing a very fake-angry stare at him. 

“No.” Hanbin’s mouth seems to have a mind of its own today, spilling words without his consent.

“You’re a very bad student, Hanbinnie. Hyung is sad you’re more interested in his lips than what he’s teaching you.” His stare is relentless, but there's a playful glint in his eyes. 

World stop. Wait a minute. Was he being that obvious?!

"L-Lips?!" Hanbin stutters, feeling exposed and shaky under Zhang Hao's scrutiny. "I wasn't looking at your lips," he tries to defend himself, but Zhang Hao's barely suppressed smile tells him he's been caught red-handed.

“Yes, you were. It’s understandable. I have pretty lips.” Hyung’s statement is punctuated by him pouting his lips like the little kissy-face emoji. Hanbin can practically visualize the hearts floating around his head

He’s seriously, so, so fucked. His mind churns with nothing but Zhang Hao’s name on repeat, like a broken record . It doesn’t help that they’re so close the older boy’s scent envelops Hanbin, intoxicates him. Their thighs are pressed together, warmth palpable in spite of the layers of clothes. 

“You do,” Hanbin admits, voice barely above a whisper.

Zhang Hao, taken aback by Hanbin’s frankness, blushes. That, alongside his red hair and red lips, make him look like a very ripe cherry. Hanbin can’t help but find it… delicious. “Ah… I didn’t expect you to be so straightforward. But thanks,” Hao-hyung says, scratching the back of his neck nervously. For all his playfulness, he’s quite shy too, Hanbin realizes. This discovery could be beneficial for later, Hanbin thinks.

Embarrassed or not, Hyung is nothing but a fighter, and he’s not about to back down on this battle. “You have pretty lips too. They make you look like a kitty, plus your pretty whiskers,” he remarks, brushing the pad of his thumb right where Hanbin’s dimple would be if he were smiling. Which he’s not. He’s actually mortified. “You’re pretty overall, to be honest,” Zhang hao adds, shrugging nonchalantly as if his words were not-a-very-big-deal-at-all. 

Hanbin insides quake. “You’re prettier,” he responds automatically. 

“Ahh… what a smooth talker.” 

Hanbin chuckles inwardly at the irony. He’s anything but a smooth talker. In fact, he feels rather pitiful at the moment. Yet, despite the mortification, it’s all worth it. Anything is worth it if it means he gets to see Zhang Hao’s sweet smile—the one that lifts his cheeks high and fluffy, revealing his adorable tiny teeth, the one that makes him look so youthful and full of life. 

At this moment, Hanbin feels like he’s reached nirvana. He’s going to let his tongue run wild more often. 

“You’re the only person who’s ever called me pretty, actually,” Zhang Hao confesses. His reaction makes sense now. Hanbin will remind him every day how pretty and beautiful and handsome and intelligent and talented he is. “I like it. I think I’m pretty too. We’re both pretty, so we’re perfect for each other.”

“Yes,” Hanbin agrees. 

Zhang Hao laughs once more at Hanbin’s expense, his expression a mix of exasperation and warmth. There’s so much warmth on his chocolate eyes, enough to thaw Hanbin’s core on this chilly winter day. “Okay, now pay attention kitty. Our daughter wants to hear Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. ”

“Yes.”

Cooking show disaster

 

Today, they’re cooking a meal for Shiro. Not that she’s going to eat it, but a baby has to be fed, so they take on the challenge. 

Hanbin can’t say he’s good in the kitchen, even if his mom has made an arduous effort at teaching him the basics. All his cards are laid on Hyung’s skills, which he hopes are… better than bad.

His mother, bless her beautiful soul, has already prepared all the ingredients to make kimchi fried rice, so there’s a slim chance of messing this up. Hopefully.  

She eagerly awaits their arrival, even getting ready a pair of slippers for Hao-hyung. Hanbin coos at the sight of a very cute pair of Shin-Chan slippers. This might or might not be his doing. Hehe. 

“Good evening, Hanbinnie’s mom. I’m very happy to meet you,” Zhang Hao says, politely bowing to her.

“Oh, Hanbinnie was right, you are indeed very pretty.” What happened to hello… Hanbin all but dies inside at his mom’s words and the way Zhang Hao whips his head around to look at him. “Those are for you, Haohao,” she says, motioning to the pair of slippers resting on their shoe rack. 

“How did you know I like Shin-Chan?” Oh no. Wrong question.

Hanbin subtly signals to his mom, making an X sign with his arms so she doesn’t rattle him out, but she pretends not to notice. This is betrayal. “Hanbinnie begged me to get them the other day while we were at the store. He kept saying ‘Please mom, Hao-hyung will love them so much’, so I really had no other choice than to make my baby happy, right?” Zhang Hao chokes on his spit. Hanbin’s face burns even more. His mom just laughs, heading to the door. “I’m going out. Have fun today, guys.”

Hanbin counts every second they remain frozen in place. He’s mortified, and it seems like Hao-hyung is as well, but he recovers first, turning to Hanbin with a smug smile. That doesn’t erase the faint blush on his cheeks, though. 

“You told your mom I’m pretty? Kitty’s getting bold,” he teases, pinching Hanbin’s nose. “She’s nice. I like her. I like that she calls me Haohao. I’ve never had a nickname before.” 

Relief floods through Hanbin. He was a bit nervous before. It’s reassuring to know that Hyung likes his mom and that she likes him back, especially since Hanbin plans to bring him around more often… “Should I give you a nickname? You gave me one.”

“No. I like you calling me Hyung. No one else does, so consider yourself special.” He winks at Hanbin, still not able to do it properly. So cute. His chest hurts. 

Zhang Hao takes a shower first, at Hanbin’s insistence. Hanbin does not hide in his mom’s room until he hears the shower turning off and the older boy’s soft steps heading downstairs. His heart does not skip a beat when he enters his room and sees hyung’s clothes neatly folded, resting on his bed. He does not spend an ungodly amount of time in the shower bashing his head against the wall. Softly, though. 

Once Hanbin finishes, he finds Zhang Hao waiting in the kitchen, scouting the perfect spot to place Shiro on top of the counter, so they can snap pictures for their project portfolio. 

Hanbin almost passes out at the sight of Hao-hyung’s bare arms right then and there. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen them before—as the other boy is always bundled up in as many clothes as he can find—but they’re devoid of any tattoos, as most people say. 

His skin looks smooth, impossibly so, as if it’s been just moisturized. Hanbin’s shirt hangs loosely on him, lopsided, slightly exposing one of his shoulders and his collarbone. His fingers burn with the itch to touch, to feel, to confirm if his skin is as soft as he imagines. 

He looks cute, almost puppy-like with his fluffy hair and his pouty mouth while he talks to Shiro to keep her in place. And young. So much younger than usual. Hanbin will never stop marveling at how he’s allowed to see this side of Zhang Hao. He doesn’t think many people have witnessed it.

“Are you not cold?” Hanbin asks, skipping the usual greeting. He adjusted the thermostat a little bit warmer than normal. Zhang Hao jumps in place, startled by the sound of his voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s all right Hanbinnie,” Hao-hyung says, placing a soft hand on Hanbin’s wrist. “And I’m not cold. Thank you.” 

Hanbin gives in to his desires, trailing his fingers on Hyung’s upper arm, skin still slightly sticky from the moisturizer he applied earlier. Hanbin’s moisturizer. He almost passes out at the sudden realization that he’s all over Zhang Hao. His shampoo, his moisturizer, his clothes, his house. 

“Are you okay? You look a little red,” he asks, unaware of Hanbin’s internal breakdown.

“I’m fine,” Hanbin answers, voice thin and squeaky. He’s decidedly not fine. His back starts to feel sticky from sweat, and he’s suddenly way too hot, even on his usual tank top. But it’s Zhang Hao’s first time here, so he’ll endure for his comfort. “Shall we cook then?”

Hyung hums in agreement, saving Hanbin from further suffering. 

They fit so well together, synchronize so easily. It’s easy to fall into the trap of domesticity, so easy for Hanbin to imagine that they’re just two… friends , living together, doing this every afternoon for the rest of their lives. 

His chest hurts. It's become an unpleasant constant every time he's near Zhang Hao, every time his mind wanders and starts dreaming of things that are most likely never going to happen.

But he’s just a boy. No one can blame him for dreaming.

Every time their shoulders brush, their hands graze as Hao-hyung passes him something or vice versa, Hanbin’s stomach jumps. It’s not like they’ve never touched before, but today, it feels different. More intimate. 

In spite of how perfect the other boy might seem in his eyes; he can’t cook for shit. Hell, he might even be worse than Hanbin, adding vinegar and ketchup to the pan without much consideration. Hanbin just lets it slide; it’s not like the teacher is going to grade their cooking, and the meal is probably edible. Probably.

“Are you good at making sunny-side eggs, Hyung?” Hanbin asks once they’re with the rice, since the last time he tried to do it, it didn’t come very well. 

“Are you not?” Hao-hyung retorts.

“Not really…” The snort that escapes Zhang Hao’s mouth is almost like an oink. It’s really a testament to how smitten he is that he finds it endearing.

Hyung takes charge of frying the eggs, but just as he's about to crack one, Hanbin has a sudden realization, gasping and grabbing his hands to stop him. "Wait! We can't eat eggs!" he exclaims.

It takes him a moment to catch Hanbin’s train of thought, but when he does, his eyes widen dramatically, and he clutches his hands to his chest. “Oh my god… I almost murdered Shiro’s cousins.” Patting the top of her egg-head, right where her floppy ears are born, he murmurs in a solemn voice, “I’m sorry, kid,” which sends Hanbin into fits of laughter until his stomach hurts.

Zhang Hao is looking at him with eyes full of mirth and something else. Fondness. Hanbin recognizes it in the way his gaze softens, making his eyes look like molten chocolate. That’s how Hanbin looks at him most of the time as well.

With bowls filled to the brim with fried rice, Hanbin suggests, "Mom's not here, so how about we eat in my room?"

Hand on his hip, Hyung looks at him disapprovingly. “I’ll have to tell auntie her son is a really bad boy.” But then he breaks into a smile, “But so am I. Let’s go.”

Hanbin settles on the floor, back against the headboard of his bed. Hao-hyung joins him, but not before inspecting every inch of his room with a detective’s eye. Every picture, every poster, every book, nothing escapes his scrutiny. It feels a little bit like he’s taking a peek into his soul, into who he is at his core. 

This is his room, where he’s spent eighteen years of his life, where he’s cried and been happy. His pillows hold his deepest secrets, those he’s never dared to share with anyone. And now Zhang Hao is here, making space for himself in Hanbin’s life, swiftly and unexpectedly, but not unwelcome. 

Hanbin examines their food after Zhang Hao sits next to him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. It doesn’t look too bad. Very red but not bad, so Hanbin dares to bring a spoonful to his mouth, chewing slowly. Hyung watches him closely, waiting for his reaction. It’s hard for Hanbin to conceal the unpleasant taste, despite his efforts. 

“Hyung… we should never cook again,” he says, deflated, though they both expected this outcome.

Zhang Hao places his bowl down, patting Hanbin’s thigh reassuringly. “Don’t be sad kitty boy, our talents lie elsewhere.” 

“Agreed. I’ll order some takeout.”

____________________

They stuff themselves with actual good food, lying in bed afterwards, bellies full and bodies warm. The soft glow of the nightstand lamp bathes the room in a yellow hue. 

Thankfully, Hanbin’s bed isn't too small, so they fit comfortably, but their pinkies still brush. Silence hangs between them, unusual and charged with an unspoken tension.

“Is there anything you want to ask?”

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Both questions break the silence simultaneously, an attempt to ease the tension.

“Not really. Do you?” Hao-hyung responds first. 

“Not really.” Hanbin sighs, turning to his side, facing Zhang Hao, who remains resting on his back. Something catches his eye in the dim light; piercings, reflecting the lamp’s glow. “I’ve never seen your piercings up close, Hyung,” Hanbin mentions, softly grazing the shell of his ear with his index finger. He doesn’t touch skin, but just metal. Hyung shivers, just slightly, but they’re so close Hanbin’s able to feel it. “When did you get them?”

Zhang Hao points to the industrial piercing passing though his cartilage. “The first one I got was at fifteen,” he whispers, letting Hanbin roll the small metal sphere between his fingers. “I don’t really remember when I got the rest; there are too many. I have my belly button pierced too; do you want to see?”

Hanbin all but short circuits. Belly button piercing… “Excuse me?”

“Belly… button? That’s the word in Korean, right?” Zhang Hao asks, pointing to the middle of his stomach. 

And yes, he pronounced that perfectly, almost like a native speaker, and yes, Hanbin understood him the first time. But that doesn’t mean his brain is ready to procure an answer, not when he feels like he won’t be able to function normally ever again with this newfound knowledge. 

A belly button piercing. That’s crazy. Crazy information. One that will linger on his mind forever, no matter how much he tries to forget it. 

At Hanbin’s stunned silence, Zhang Hao takes the hem of his shirt, ready to lift it and show the metal decorating his body. “Wait, don’t do that.” Hanbin grabs his hand firmly, keeping the shirt in place. He would love to see it, but the mental image is enough to push him to the brink of madness. His sense of self-preservation is working overtime. He doesn’t actually need to know how a jewel looks against Hao-hyung’s beautiful, smooth and— Stop. “Oh my god. I’ll die.”

Zhang Hao turns to his side, facing Hanbin. Their faces are inches apart, practically breathing each other in. “Don’t die. If you leave me I’ll cry,” he says, pouting again as he always does. Hanbin should be used to it, unaffected, considering how many times Hyung pouts per day, but he isn’t. He’ll never be. 

Hanbin has come to realize that the bad boy persona it’s just a facade, a shell to protect who he really is: a silly, pouty guy who enjoys cute things and to be babied all the time. Hanbin’s glad that Hyung has let him crack his walls open, even if just a little bit, to catch a glimpse of the real him inside.

“You’re so pouty.” His hand moves instinctively, finding the other boy’s face. Hanbin closes his eyes upon contact, relishing in the sensation of Hao-hyung’s plump and soft cheek under his fingers. 

“You are too.”

“Am not.”

“You’re literally pouting now. And kneading my cheek just like a kitty.” Hyung seems to be enjoying it, as Hanbin feels his face break with a smile. It really is a wonderful thing the way his cheeks transform when he smiles, and it’s even more wonderful to feel it happen under his touch. “Do you have any plans for next year?” Zhang Hao asks, trying to be nonchalant about it. 

Hanbin winces at the question, although he tries to hide it as much as he can from Hao-hyung’s ever attentive eyes. He opens his own on instinct, dropping his hand, and knows he wasn’t successful in hiding his discomfort from the worried look that crosses Zhang Hao’s features. 

“Do you… not want to talk about it?” Hao-hyung asks.

It’s a sore subject, that one, but he supposes he can trust him with this. “My dad wants me to go to med school.”

Zhang Hao nods. Hanbin thinks he’s safe from further scrutiny, but nothing is ever simple with him. “And what do you want?” 

“What do I want?” No one has ever asked him that, not even himself. But Hanbin knows the answer. It leaves his lips before he can stop it, before he can tuck it away in the hidden chest inside his heart, lock the key and toss it away. “Before… I was a dancer.” 

“I saw your pictures. You won a lot of trophies.” It’s a statement, but Hanbin can hear the question laying underneath.

“I had to stop,” Hanbin begins, choosing his words carefully, speaking slowly. This is a familiar discourse, something he’s repeated to himself over and over. “To focus on my studies.”

Hao-hyung hums contemplatively. “Did you want to?”

The answer is clear, yet he’s never dared to speak it aloud. It’s a wound that has been stitched together, although haphazardly. He’s already mourned over what has been lost and will likely never return.  “What do you want to do?” asks instead, steering the conversation elsewhere. 

Hao-hyung’s response is swift. Unlike Hanbin, it’s clear he knows what he wants to do with his life, it’s clear he hasn’t spent endless nights pondering over expectations. “I want to be a teacher. I’d like to be… a different kind of teacher.” His statement is kind of cryptic, but Hanbin understands. Not like their teachers, is what he means.

“A teacher? That’s surprising,” Hanbin musses aloud. But upon further thought, he realizes it’s the opposite. “Actually, it’s not. You taught me really well how to play the piano the other day. You’d like to teach music, right?”

“Yes. But Hanbinnie didn’t really pay attention the other day while I taught him piano. If I quizzed you right now, could you tell me how to play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star ?” Hanbin blushes, feeling caught off guard. He shouldn’t have brought it up, especially not when he was caught blatantly staring at Zhang Hao’s beautiful, shiny lips the other day. His mouth stays shut. “Yeah, yeah. That’s what I thought.” 

Hanbin’s still curious about something else though, something the older boy mentioned not long ago. “Hao-hyung, why don’t you play the violin anymore?”

“You know it’s just me and my mom. We can’t really afford lessons.”

Hanbin tenses up upon hearing Zhang Hao’s answer. “Oh… I apologize,” he stammers, internally berating himself and his stupid mouth for prying into matters that don’t concern him, when he feels fingers intertwining with his own, squeezing gently.  

“Don’t apologize. You haven’t offended me, baby kitty. Also, next year that won’t be a problem. I’ll get a scholarship and everything will be good, so don’t worry," Hyung reassures him, and Hanbin feels better knowing there’s hope for a brighter future for him. 

That's why he puts in as much effort as Hanbin does into his grades, why he stretches himself thin balancing work and school. He does feel a twinge of guilt about the one-sided competition he engaged in with the other boy not long ago, especially when his motivation to do good pales in comparison to Hao-hyung's.

“Do you actually want to be a doctor?” Zhang Hao presses on. The question never left his mind, poised on the tip of his tongue, etched into the forefront of his eyes. “You can be honest with me. I’d never judge you.”

Hanbin sighs. “I know.” The hand in his squeezes once more, and it feels encouraging, supportive. “I don’t think I’d enjoy being a doctor.” His admission comes with a weight, a confession he’s kept from himself and his parents. He doesn’t want to let them down, not when they’ve been so good to him.

“Then don’t be.”

“It’s not that easy.”

There’s fire in Hao-hyung’s eyes, burning with intensity that momentarily steals Hanbin’s breath. He’s witnessed it before, directed at others, but never at him. This fire though, it isn’t hostile. It’s commanding, and strangely comforting.

“It’s actually quite easy, Hanbin. I didn’t peg you for the kind of person who would do something just to satisfy others. You were never like that with me.” Hanbin thinks back to the first actual conversation they had and realizes that Hao-hyung speaks the truth. “You confronted me the first time we talked, remember? You also stood up to Dongmin the other day. If something is unfair you speak up… Don’t you think this is unfair to you?” It is unfair, Hanbin can admit that much, but he keeps quiet. “You’ll be okay. Whatever you decide, I’ll be with you.”

Hanbin melts into his bed out of sheer relief, tension bleeding out of his every pore. It’s comforting to know that someone has his back, someone who will stand by his side regardless of the decision he makes. 

“I’d like to be like you,” Hanbin states, earning a confused expression from the pretty boy in front of him.

“What do you mean?”

“Brave.” The word slips out easily, a testament to its truth. Hanbin doesn’t think Hyung is brave just because he’s strong or because he refuses to take shit from anyone. Those are factors, yes, but not the main reason. Hanbin thinks he’s brave because, despite everything he’s endured, he still believes in a better future. 

Zhang Hao smiles, but there’s a hint of bitterness in it. “I’m actually a coward, kitty. I don’t let anyone close because I fear they might hurt me. I put up this tough guy front for that reason alone.” 

Hanbin had suspected as much. “I still think you’re brave,” he insists. He’d like Zhang Hao to see what he sees, to see himself through Hanbin’s eyes. “And you let me get close to you.”

“You’re an exception. The only exception.” That statement alone is enough to set Hanbin’s soul alight, enough to make him feel special, which is not something that happens very often. “I feel like you and I, in that sense, are the same, don’t you think?”

They are, maybe that’s why they bonded so seamlessly. Kindred spirits of sorts. “You’re my only exception too. I’ve been friends with Gyuvinnie forever, so it’s not like I had to learn to trust him or anything. And… I also put up a front, always have. What the people see, it’s not me. Not the real me, at least.”

“I know. I’ve been observing you, you know, for quite a while. I always thought there was more about you than what meets the eye, and I was right.” Hyung’s eyes look so lovely under the dim light of the room, so shiny, so soft, so full of conviction before he utters his last words. Hanbin can’t help but be captivated by him. “Just… think about it. Can you promise me that?”

Next year. The seed has already been planted. Hanbin has spent so long stomping on it, refusing to let it grow. But now… “I promise,” he says, meaning it. The telltale pitter-patter of rain serves as background noise. Lost in their exchange, Hanbin hadn’t even noticed it had started raining. That’s the effect Zhang Hao has on him. He can make him reconsider decisions made long ago, he can make him forget about everything around him. “It’s raining Hyung. Just… stay here tonight.” 

Hanbin’s voice is a mere whisper, losing its battle against the water cascading down the sky, but Hyung hears him loud and clear. “Okay.”

____________________

Hanbin does not freak out the next morning when he wakes up entangled in Zhang Hao’s arms. It’s kind of an uncomfortable position they got themselves in, to be honest, as Hanbin is also hugging him back. Their cheeks are pressed together, his lips grazing the other boy’s skin.

Again, Hanbin does not freak out.

He doesn’t feign sleep when Hao-hyung rises early to head to work.

Neither does he think about it during every second of the day.

His heart? Well, it’s perfectly fine. Super fine.

Hao-hyung looks sexy when he fights

 

“Hyung! Hanbin-hyung!” Hanbin hears his name being urgently called by a sprinting Gyuvin. He’s confused as to why the younger boy is still around, considering Hanbin had sent him home almost an hour ago. Everyone's eyes are fixed on him as he rushes through the library, searching for Hanbin. Once he finds him, he swiftly gathers up everything spread across the table—books, notepads, everything—with lightning speed. “People are saying Hao-hyung is fighting some guys outside school! You need to go now!” Gyuvin insists, thrusting Hanbin’s belongings into his hands.

Suddenly infused with the spirit of an Olympic athlete, Hanbin races as fast as his legs can carry him. He’s out of shape, terribly so, but remnants of muscles developed from years of dancing still remain, propelling him towards the school gates.

Zhang Hao is indeed fighting. Two boys. Dongmin and that other guy who’s always trailing behind him. Hyung’s lucky no teacher has caught wind of the fight yet; otherwise, he’d already be at the principal’s office, with a huge punishment to his name, regardless of the reason behind the fight, and Dongmin would be innocent of all charges as he always is. 

Whatever the issue, it needs to be over now, and Hanbin will make sure of it. He can’t bear to see Hyung getting hurt.

But wow… he does look good fighting, almost as if he was born for it. His presence is commanding, making him seem bigger than the other guys despite his slender frame. He avoids getting hit on vital parts with astonishing swiftness, docking hit after hit. 

Something inside Hanbin stirs, stomach in knots, and it’s not out of worry or anything like that, since Hao-hyung is obviously winning this fight. His cheeks are flushed from all the exertion from running, but now, seeing Hyung in action, they burn with a different kind of heat. His lips feel dry as he imagines Zhang Hao’s strong hands over him. He would never hurt Hanbin, would never use his strength against him. His touch would be feather light, caressing him— 

Wait, what? 

How can you think about something like that right now?! Hanbin chastises himself, slapping his cheeks to snap out of the-horny-zone. Lately, he’s been having these strange thoughts. Ever since that day he woke up wrapped in Zhang Hao’s arms. But now It’s not time to think about that or to lust after his friend, it’s time to get him out of this damn fight before it gets out of hand.

Hanbin, stupidly—considering he’s never had any experience with fist fighting, or fighting at all—tries to get in the middle in order to separate them. His efforts earn him a sharp blow beneath his eye. It hurts like a bitch, but he grits his teeth, refusing to let it show, as Zhang Hao’s bewildered eyes land on him. It takes a moment amid the chaos for Hanbin to register something warm and wet trickling down his skin—blood.  

With Zhang Hao momentarily distracted, the two guys try to approach him once more, but Hyung’s reflexes are sharp and he turns just in time to narrowly dodge a punch aiming straight to his eye. He pushes Dongmin with so much force it sends him flying to his ass, and then, it’s his companions turn. 

“Don’t fucking touch him!” he screams, voice laced with fury. Hanbin’s never heard him like this—so raw, so unbridled. Zhang Hao’s eyes soften as they lock onto him once again, losing that crazed edge he had just seconds ago. “Hanbinnie, are you okay?” he asks, his hand hovering near Hanbin’s cheek but hesitating.

Hanbin knows the doubt flickering in Zhang Hao’s beautiful gaze is born from the fear of rejection, of Hanbin being repulsed or frightened by the violence. But the truth is far from in, and Hanbin wants Hao-hyung to be certain of that. 

He reaches out and grasps Zhang Hao’s hands, bringing it close to his face. Hanbin nuzzles into it like a little kitty, enjoying the feel of his rough, calloused palm on his skin. It gets coated in Hanbin’s blood, but hyung doesn’t mind; instead, he holds him.

The two guys seize the opportunity to flee the scene, as Zhang Hao’s focus has turned to someone else. Cowards , Hanbin thinks to himself. Not even two guys can beat my Hyung. He’s truly invincible. 

Hyung is not really hurt, just a small cut on the bridge of his nose, a bruise starting to bloom on his left cheek, and a busted lip. Compared to the other guys, his wounds are insignificant, yet Hanbin’s heart still squeezes at the sight. He reaches out, gently touching the tender and feverish skin. Hao-hyung winces, though barely noticeable.  

Hanbin exhales heavily, glancing at the hand that isn’t cradling his cheek. Busted knuckles, blood staining them. Hanbin interlaces their pinkies, careful not to touch the teared skin. 

His chest aches, but it’s a different sensation. So different from the fluttering one he usually gets whenever he’s near the other boy. This is deep, more somber, almost painful. “Hyung… let’s go home. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He nods. “Yeah just…” Zhang Hao whispers, taking deep, steadying breaths. “Give me a second.” 

Hyung looks serene, eyes closed, the warm setting sun bathing his features. Hanbin wants to bundle him up with a fluffy blanket, tuck him into bed, and kiss his forehead while caressing his hair; wants to bubble wrap him so no one ever hurts him again; wants to silence the ugly words so they never reach his ears. 

Hanbin could love him, if Zhang Hao allowed him. The realization is not shocking. He supposes this is where he was headed all along. The inevitable. But how could he not love him, when he makes it so easy?

With a final breath, Zhang Hao turns to grab his backpack and Shiro, carefully placed on the grass inside her fluffy bag, far away from the commotion. Hyung must have been angry enough to fight someone, yet he still took the time to put their daughter in a safe place so she wouldn't be hurt. 

Hanbin could really, really love him. He hopes Hyung will let him.

____________________

His house is just a few blocks away, and they walk in silence, hand in hand. Hanbin can feel the stickiness of Hao-hyung’s blood coating his own fingers, but it doesn’t bother him. 

Hanbin’s cut is shallow, yet it keeps bleeding incessantly. Every now and then Zhang Hao stops their trek to delicately wipe away the crimson trails, running down his face as if they were tears. 

No one’s home yet, to Hanbin’s relief. He wouldn’t know how to explain to his mom why they’re both bruised and bloodied, and it’s not like he knows the reason behind Zhang Hao’s actions, either. 

Upstairs in Hanbin’s room, he guides Hao-hyung to the bed and asks him to remain still while he retrieves the first-aid kit. It’s the second time Zhang Hao’s been here, yet he navigates this space as if it’s his own. It fills Hanbin with a strange warmth. 

He could become a fixed fixture here.

Although he’s never tended to someone's wounds before, memories of his mother’s care flood his mind—light, loving fingers soothing where it hurts the most, concluding with a little kiss to make it better. In this moment, he yearns for a universe where Zhang Hao might allow him to offer the same comfort. 

Hopefully, it’s this one.

Upon his return, Hanbin finds Hao-hyung in the same spot, hands clenching and unclenching, surveying the damage. The younger gets the impression that his hands bear the brunt of the pain, so he kneels in front of him, ready to take care of them. 

“Hanbin,” Zhang Hao whispers. Their eyes meet, and Hanbin sees reverence and something else, something new, something he’s never seen before, or perhaps he has, but never with this intensity.

“Zhang Hao,” the younger whispers back. Hyung is entranced, captivated, staring open-mouthed at the scene unfolding before him.

With delicate motions, Hanbin cleans Zhang Hao’s hands, wiping away the dried blood with warm water and a towel. He applies antibiotic ointment meticulously, ensuring the wounds are protected from infection. Then, Hanbin expertly wraps each wound in a pink band-aid, as it was the only thing he could find. 

Zhang Hao remains motionless, breathless. Hanbin thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s never been touched like this before, no one has ever cared for him in this way. Emboldened by this thought, Hanbin decides to kiss him better, lips barely grazing the surface of Hyung’s skin, enough to ignite a spark between them. 

As Hanbin moves to clean Zhang Hao’s face, the older kneels before him, their positions mirroring each other. Despite the roughness of his hands, they cradle Hanbin’s face with surprising tenderness. 

He knows Hyung can be soft and tender, but not to this extent. It knocks the air out of his lungs. His chest hurts once more, but for a different reason this time. The right reason.

Hao-hyung mimics Hanbin’s actions from earlier, cleaning his cheek, applying some ointment, and then a big baby blue band-aid to protect the cut on his cheek. The whole process hurts a lot, skin red and feverish. Hanbin tries to hide his discomfort, but Zhang Hao sees through the facade, concern etched on his features. 

His hand lingers, cupping Hanbin’s cheek. “Why did you get involved, Hanbinnie? You’re hurt now, and it’s my fault.”

Hanbin's heart sinks at the thought of Zhang Hao blaming himself. “It’s not your fault. I got involved because I wanted to,” he reassures him, hoping to ease his guilt. The other boy remains silent, just staring at Hanbin, thumb mindlessly brushing his cheek, careful not to touch the sensitive skin. “Let’s get your pretty face cleaned up, Hyung.”

“Will you kiss it better too, Hanbinnie?” 

Hanbin blushes at the suggestion. It’s funny how just over a week ago, he would have never approached this guy out of his own volition, and now their faces are mere centimeters apart, and it feels natural.

“Anything you want. I’ll do anything you want,” Hanbin declares sincerely. It’s not the first time he’s said those words, and he’s certain it won’t be the last. 

Hanbin cleans the cut on Zhang Hao’s nose. It’s not deep, but a sizable bruise is already forming. Hanbin’s just glad nothing is broken. Hyung’s nose is beautiful, fits his features perfectly, and it deserves proper care, just like the rest of him. His handiwork is finished with another pink band-aid, big enough to ensure the bridge of his nose is protected.

Zhang Hao watches intently, his eyes alight with anticipation. He’s already been clear with his demands, and Hanbin finds himself unable to deny him. Closing the gap between them, Hanbin places a barely-there kiss to the tip of his nose. A kiss to make it better. 

“Does it hurt less now?” Hanbin asks, foreheads resting against each other.

“When I’m with Hanbinnie, everything hurts less.” The smile grazing his features is sweet, lovely, as is the look in his eyes, and his words dig deep into Hanbin’s heart. He wonders how many times he’s ached, and how many times he’s had to endure the pain alone. Would it be possible to kiss his heart better?

They hug, Zhang Hao’s head buried in Hanbin’s chest, arms securely wrapped around his waist. Hanbin buries his hand on the mop of vibrant hair right in front of him. His scent is calming: a blend of sweet watermelon and sweat. 

Hanbin is transported back to the day they slept just like this, not too long ago, his nose buried on the thick, red, strands, hands and legs intertwined. “Hyung,” Hanbin whispers as to not startle the peaceful boy in his arms. “Why do you keep getting into fights?” 

“Dongmin is a dick,” Zhang Hao replies, matter-of-factly. Hanbin snorts. That’s actually a pretty decent explanation. If Hanbin had a single fist-fighting bone in his body, he’d love to punch him. At least once. Or twice.

“Agreed.”

Zhang Hao’s shoulders tense before he continues. “He was saying nasty stuff.”

“About?”

“Us.” 

“What did he say?” Hanbin probes, just for the sake of it, while rubbing soothing circles on Zhan Hao’s back with his free hand. He knows Hyung won’t tell him, but having known Dongmin for years, it's not hard to imagine what kind of things were running out his mouth.

“I won’t tell you.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter,” Hanbin responds, opting not to push Zhang Hao further. “I’ve said this before. I don’t have many friends here other than you and Gyuvinnie, and yours are the only opinions that matter to me, so if you’re going to get into a fight, please don’t do it to defend my honor. That is something I can handle on my own.” 

Hyung looks up at him, just pouting, jutting his lips out. If it weren’t for the physical marks on his face, Hanbin would never imagine a guy like this gets into fights. He’s so cute. “I know you can. But I don’t want you to. You have me and I’m more than willing to do the dirty work.”

“But I don’t want you to,” Hanbin responds, repeating Zhang Hao’s words and smoothing the crease that formed between his thick, dyed eyebrows. His words stir something inside him. No one has ever defended him like this before. He would be insanely grateful if it didn’t involve Hyung hurting himself. “You know the school will do something if you keep getting in trouble like this, right? I want us to graduate together. I want you to get into a good university. I want you to make your dreams come true, Hyung.”

The look in Zhang Hao’s eyes changes. From stubborn and unwilling to change his mind, he now appears soft and contemplative. Tears well up in his eyes, and he blinks rapidly to keep them from falling.

“How can you say something like that and expect my heart not to hurt?” Hao-hyung asks, voice barely audible.

They’re so close, so close, it wouldn't take much effort for Hanbin to do what’s been on his mind for a long time. But he doesn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. He’s too scared of this, whatever it is, of something going wrong, of losing something that wasn’t even his to begin with.

The between them is palpable, suffocating almost. Hanbin needs to break it, to dispel the heaviness that hangs in the air. So, he asks the first thing that comes to his mind. “How is Shiro?”

That breaks Zhang Hao out of his reverie. “She’s fine,” he responds, detaching himself from Hanbin’s hug and retrieving Shiro from her carrier. Hanbin feels cold instantly.

She’s as perfect as ever, just as she was this morning. Her little floppy ears, the pink bow Zhang Hao attached to her, everything is right where it should be. Not a speck of dust or grass clings to her. She’s perfectly healthy. 

Hanbin feels at ease. It’s weird, this thing that's happening between them. Everything has happened so quickly, but it feels right, and it’s all thanks to Shiro. Hanbin genuinely cares about her, even though she’s just an eggie. Without her, Hao-hyung and him wouldn’t have become friends at all. 

“I made sure she wasn’t involved. I even zipped up her carrier so she wouldn't see,” Zhang Hao says, his voice carrying a hint of pride.

Hanbin can’t help but smile and softly pat the top of his head. “You’re so cute, Hyung. Thank you for taking such good care of our baby.”

“You don’t have to thank me, my pretty Hanbinnie.” Hanbin’s been conditioned to blush every time the word ‘pretty’ escapes Hyung’s mouth. The smile on the older boy's face is mischievous, dangerously captivating and, so, so bad for Hanbin’s poor heart. Its been through a lot today. “Why are you so red, little kitty?” 

“I’m always red,” Hanbin replies defensively, hiding his flushed cheeks behind his palms. He forgets there’s a very recent wound on one of them, and winces in pain when his palm makes contact with it.

Hyung takes his wrists, moving them away from his face. His grip is firm, yet loose enough to let Hanbin escape if he wanted to. “Be careful,” he chides. “I love your red cheeks. I…” he trails off. The older boy clears his throat, squaring his shoulders before resuming. “I wonder if… if there’s a way to make them even redder.” 

They’re so close that Hanbin can discern every flicker of emotion that crosses Zhang Hao’s face: the transition from confidence, assuredness, to timidity, the stuttering words regretted as soon as they leave his lips. His eyes dart away from Hanbin’s, opting to stare at the floor instead, while the tip of his ears turn a deep shade of crimson. He’s shy, Hanbin realizes. 

Hanbin is shy too, but he’s not going to let this opportunity go to waste. Hoping he’s interpreting Hyung’s words correctly, he responds, “There is.”

Hao-hyung whips his head up, shocked. “Wha-what do you mean?” he stutters once more. “Do you like boys?” he asks, breathless and unsure, but Hanbin knows those are not the words that he wants to voice. Hanbin hears the hidden question beneath: Do you like me?

“I like boys,” Hanbin admits. It feels good to let it out, for someone else to know besides himself. “And I like you.” 

The cat’s out of the bag, figuratively and literally. He’s the cat, you know. Now that he’s voiced his feelings, he realizes something: his affection for the red-haired boy with shiny, round eyes in front of him goes way beyond mere liking.

“You… like me?” Zhang Hao asks, voice trembling with disbelief. “Me?” He seems incredulous, releasing Hanbin’s hand and pointing to his own chest. 

Their roles have reversed. Hanbin feels confident, invincible, which is how he usually sees Hao-hyung, who’s transformed into a shy, stuttering mess. 

“Yes, you.” He places his now free hand on the other’s, sensing the rapid beat of his heart. “Do you believe me?” It takes a moment for Hyung to gather his thoughts. When comprehension finally dawns, he nods, but it’s not enough. Hanbin wants to hear the affirmation from his lips. “Can you say it for me?”

“I believe you.”

“Do you like boys too, Hyung?”

“I do like boys,” Zhang Hao begins. “But not just any boy. You. Only you.” 

It’s Hanbin’s turn to be left speechless at his words, captivated by the honesty behind them, by the way he’s allowed to see into the depths of his soul, by his shiny eyes, by the flush of his cheeks. 

He wishes there was a manual on what to do in these situations, as he has no idea what he’s supposed to do now that they’ve both confessed to each other. Yet, he knows that honesty has always worked well with Hao-hyung, so that’s the road he should follow. “I’ve never really liked anyone, so I’m a little bit scared.” 

“I’m scared too, if that’s any consolation.”

“Why are you scared?”

“I’ve never liked anyone, not like this, at least. And… Well, no one has ever treated me as good as you, with so much kindness and love and patience. You know I can be a handful,” he says, tone tinged with self-deprecation, sounding almost rueful. It’s such a stark contrast to the confident front he always puts up. 

A handful he may be, but Hanbin’s always enjoyed the challenge. And it’s not a bad thing, at least not in Hanbin’s eyes. It’s a part of who he is, and there’s no fault in that.   

“I don’t know who has made you feel like a burden Hyung, but I want you to know that you aren’t. You might be a handful, yes, but that’s not a flaw. I love your personality, the real you, and I’m honored that you trust me enough to show me,” Hanbin says, cupping Zhang Hao’s face in his hands.

His eyes fill with tears once again, catching on the tip of his lashes. He’s such a pretty crier, Hanbin takes a mental snapshot, committing this image to memory. “Stupid kitty,” he says, sniffing and fond. “Don’t say those things to me or I’ll get soft.”

Hanbin chuckles, his fingers tracing the contours of Zhang Hao’s bruised cheeks. “You are soft, Hyung.”

“Just for you,” Zhang Hao confesses. Closing the remaining distance between their faces, their lips hover just a breath away. “Can we kiss now?” 

Hanbin feels the question reverberate against his mouth, against his heart. He wants nothing more than to lean in, to fulfill this long-held desire, but he decides to play difficult, just to rile Hyung up. “I don’t know...”

It’s worth it when he feels more than sees the pout of his mouth. “You’ll never say no to me, right?”

“Never.”

“Then kiss me now, Sung Hanbin.”

It’s magic, when their lips touch. It reminds him of those silly fairy tales his mother used to read him all the time when he was just a little kid. 

True love kiss. This could very much be true love, Hanbin thinks, as their lips softly brush against each other.

He’s careful, mindful of Zhang Hao’s busted lower lip, but the older boy doesn't seem to care, pressing their mouths even closer, if that’s possible. Hanbin tastes a hint of blood, but also something else. Something sweet and addictive, a taste unique to the beautiful boy kissing his lungs out.

It’s chaste and simple, but it could be more. Hanbin wants more. He wants everything. 

Last day with Shiro

 

They don’t talk about it. Which is funny considering they’re attached by the hip at school and beyond. It’s not uncomfortable, though, but their dynamic has definitely changed. Hanbin tries to act as usual, but even Gyuvin looks at them as if they’ve grown a third head. 

They haven’t kissed again, which is making Hanbin go crazy. Every time he talks to Hao-hyung, he can’t help but stare at his lips, lost in memories of their taste, their warmth. It doesn’t help that Hyung has taken to using a reddish lip balm, making his plump mouth even more captivating. 

The day after the fight, Zhang Hao shows up at school adorned with the same pink band-aids that Hanbin put all over his body the day before. It’s a funny sight. The same guy with black eyes and hard stares with a big splash of pink right in the center of his face. He wears it proudly, though, or so he says to Hanbin. 

People can’t help but stare, especially when Hanbin sits beside him during recess, carefully helping him change his band-aids. Hyung glares at the onlookers like an angry puppy, the only thing missing is for him to bark. While others might find him intimidating, Hanbin sees the opposite. He is cute, despite the angry purple bruises on his face. It’ll take a long time for them to fade, but he makes it work, wears them like an accessory. 

Hanbin, on the other hand, feels like shit the morning after. He winces at his reflection in the mirror, cheek swollen and purple. Talking and laughing is extremely painful. His mom helped him clean the cut this morning, and he had to invent a lame excuse to explain the state of his face. He face-palmed on the floor because it was wet, is what he said. Thankfully, she bought it. At least he hopes she did.

So, no kisses for him, even when he pitifully got punched to save Hyung. He should be rewarded, not punished like this. The thought makes him pout involuntarily. Hao-hyung’s habits are really rubbing off on him.

Dongmin and his friend practically bolt the opposite direction at the mere sight of Zhang Hao and Hanbin. Whereas Dongmin once had the gall to speak to Hanbin when he was alone, now he doesn’t even dare to make eye contact. All his fake bravado and inflated ego seem to have vanished; this time, they’ve effectively been scared off. 

Today is a sad day—their last day with Shiro. Hanbin feels like he’s losing a part of himself, but Mr. Kim was adamant they return the egg. It is what it is. If it were up to Hanbin he would freeze her or something, just to keep her forever. 

They decide to come back to the place where it all began, the park where they had their first outing, as a little farewell trip for Shiro. She's nestled in her fluffy carrier, the wool beanie Hanbin’s mom knitted for her adorning the top of her shell. 

“I’m a little bit sad,” Hanbin remarks as they stroll arm in arm around the park. It’s cold today, much like the past week and the one before that. This winter has been harsh, yet amidst it, he’s found something—or rather, someone—that warms his heart.

“Me too.” That someone stares at Shiro, cradled in his hands, eyes soft and affectionate. “I grew attached to her.”

Hanbin sighs, a tinge of dejection in his voice. “I wish we could keep her forever. She really is my baby.” They’ll have to settle for the many pictures they’ve taken of her, the only reminder of her existence, besides their memories. 

Hao-hyung halts them to a stop, sulking. “Am I not your baby?”

So cute. Way too cute for Hanbin’s health, face bruised and all. “You’re my baby too, Hyung,” Hanbin says, gently squishing his uninjured cheek between his fingers. Like a baby.

“You’re my baby too, kitty,” Zhang Hao responds, leaning into his touch. “Can you meow for Hyung?”

Hanbin snorts. He wonders what goes on in his mind sometimes. “Why would I meow?”

“Because you’re an actual kitty,” the other boy responds matter-of-factly, as if it’s common knowledge. “Please.” 

Puppy eyes. That’s what Zhang Hao is giving him. And Hanbin is weak, so weak. He would do it if they were alone, but the park is packed with people, kids running everywhere. An old lady passes by them, casting a disapproving glare. 

Right. Hanbin’s hand is still on Hyung’s cheek.

“I’ll do it when we’re alone,” Hanbin promises, quickly interlacing their arms and resuming their walk around the park.

“Is that some kind of foreplay?” Zhang Hao teases.

“Hyung!” Hanbin blushes furiously from head to toe. He does not want that image implanted on his mind, thank you very much. Keeping his thoughts about Hyung PG-13 has been a challenge. “Don’t say things like that. Shiro is here.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Hyung apologizes, but he’s still laughing, so his apology is probably not that sincere. “I’d love to keep her too, but she’s probably rotten inside, Hanbinnie.”

“Yeah…” She’s been out of the fridge for a long time, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think that her insides are not in the best condition. Still. This is sad. 

As they take a few more steps, Hanbin feels the weight of a burning question on his lips, straining his lungs to be released. “Can I ask you something?” he ventures, hesitant. “What made you change your mind about me? Back then, I mean.”

“Nothing,” Zhang Hao responds, leaving Hanbin puzzled. He’s sure there was something that made him change his mind. Initially, Hao-hyung didn’t even want to talk to him. “I already liked you before we were ever paired together,” he explains, but that makes no sense.

“What do you mean?”

Zhang Hao halts their steps once more. They’re now under a more secluded area, right under a large, old tree. “Hanbin, I’ve sat behind you the entire year. Sometimes all I could see was the back of your head,” he begins, his tone serious. Hanbin hopes it was a pleasant sight. The back of Hao-hyung’s head is pretty, and when he smiles, you can still see his cheeks. But that’s not what they’re talking about now. Hanbin needs to focus, as Zhang Hao appears genuinely earnest now. “All I’ve seen is you. Way before all this. But it kind of seemed like you hated me so… I never really had the courage to talk to you”

Hanbin’s stomach drops, bile rising up his throat. He can’t believe something as inconsequential as grades made Hao-hyung feel as if he hated him. “I didn’t hate you. I’m sorry you felt that way.”

“Don’t apologize, Hanbinnie. I’m used to it, so-”

Hanbin cuts him off. He might not hate Zhang Hao, but he truly despises the fact that he justifies people not liking him. “Shut up. Let me apologize. I judged you even though I didn’t know you, and for that I’m really sorry.” Hao-hyung opens his mouth to interject, but Hanbin doesn’t let him. He’s not done yet. “Let me continue. Back then… I was really angry that you did better than me sometimes. I thought you didn’t put any effort into studying and it was just luck or something. I know that’s not the case. It was really stupid of me to dislike you for something as dumb as grades. I don’t care about that now. You’re more important to me.”

He seems taken aback, mouth slightly agape, unblinking eyes. Maybe Hanbin spoke with too much conviction, but it doesn’t matter. The apology was long overdue. 

“I accept your apology. Thanks,” Zhang Hao says, taking Hanbin’s hand in his. “You did take the time to get to know me, though. If you hadn't been so… persistent, we wouldn’t be here today, Hanbinnie. Give yourself some credit.”

Now that they’re being honest to each other, Hanbin feels it’s the right moment to let Hyung know about something important. “I want to tell you something. I… made a choice.”

“About what?”

Hanbin inhales deeply. Speaking it aloud makes it real, but he must take the leap. “I’ll go back to dancing.”

“Really?” Hao-hyung throws himself in Hanbin’s arms, mindful not to crush Shiro in the process. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” he exclaims, bouncing in place alongside Hanbin. His happiness is infectious, filling Hanbin’s heart with something indescribable.

“Thank you,” Hanbin murmurs into his ear.

“For what?” Zhang Hao asks, pulling back and meeting Hanbin’s gaze. He seems genuinely confused. Hanbin wants to laugh. Hao-hyung is the catalyst of everything. Hanbin hasn’t felt this happy, this hopeful about the future in a long time, and it’s all because of him.

“What you said the other day… It really helped me make this choice. I don’t think I would have been brave without you.” 

This is the first step Hanbin’s taking. He knows great things lie ahead, he just needed to be a little bit brave just once.

Hyung smiles, sweet and tender, cradling Hanbin’s face in his hands. They are freezing, as they always are, but it’s a comforting chill. One that Hanbin’s come to associate with the pretty boy with a pretty heart in front of him. “I’m glad I could help you, kitty, just as you’ve helped me too. I’ll take care of you forever, and I hope you’ll take care of me too.”

Hanbin's heart swells at his words. “I will,” he vows. Clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head, Hanbin finally gets the courage to ask the one thing he really wants to know. “Are we… Are we boyfriends?” Hanbin stutters. 

“Yes, we are,” Hyung responds immediately, a cheeky smile lighting up his face. He quickly scans their surroundings, ensuring they’re alone. Once he deems the coast is clear, he plants a loud smooch in Hanbin’s mouth. It’s chaste, and Zhang Hao doesn’t linger, but Hanbin, who has been dreaming about this moment for days, is left dumbfounded. “Now take my hand, I’m cold.” 

So Hanbin does. 

Later, Hanbin spies with his little eye a claw machine inside an arcade. “I have an idea,” he says, pulling Hyung alongside. “Come on.”

Bingo. Inside the machine, there’s a plushie. A Shiro plushie, to be exact. Today seems to be his lucky day. The stars have aligned in his favor.

Hao-hyung sees it and starts clapping his hands. “Oh my god. A Shiro plushie. You’re a genius, baby kitty!”

“I’ll win one for you, Hyung,” Hanbin declares, puffing his chest out confidently.

Hanbin does not win one for him. 

Eighteen thousand won and almost an hour later, Zhang Hao takes over. “Let me do it just once,” he says.

And on his first try, he wins. 

Hanbin sulks, but he earns a kiss nonetheless, so he feels like the real winner.

I think the school delinquent loves me

 

“Congratulations to Zhang Hao for scoring the highest grade on our last test,” Miss Song announces in front of the whole class. Her tone is nothing but irritated, as if Zhang Hao’s intelligence personally offends her. “And to our Hanbinnie too who was only one point behind him.” 

Hanbin’s been here before. This exact same situation keeps repeating itself, almost like a script. Not a single teacher has ever congratulated Hyung, and only Hyung, for his achievements. They always feel the need to downplay it somehow. He’s had enough.

“May I say something, Miss Song?” Hanbin says, raising his hand. Hao-hyung stops taping his pencil behind him. He must know what Hanbin’s about to do, as he softly mutters don’t. Under any other circumstances, Hanbin would listen to him, he’s not a confrontational person by nature, but now he’s truly had enough. 

“Go ahead Hanbinnie,” his teacher says with a kind smile. Hanbin feels a twisted sort of satisfaction unravel inside him. She has no idea what’s coming. 

“If you’re going to congratulate someone, it should just be Zhang Hao-hyung, not me. I didn't get the highest score, so I don’t see why I should be congratulated as well,'' Hanbin begins. His teacher’s face slowly morphs into shock, and he can hear a few gasps from his more dramatic classmates. “Usually, only the top scorer is congratulated, but not when it comes to Zhang Hao-hyung. I wonder if there’s an explanation for this, Miss Song?”

“An e-explanation?” she stutters. “Well… I like to encourage… competition. Competition is good.”

Hanbin’s not finished with her. He can smell her bullshit from miles away. “Oh, really? But when I’m the top scorer, you only congratulate me?”

The bell rings, breaking the tense silence of the classroom. Miss Song all but scurries away, barely even saying goodbye to the rest of the students. Hanbin’s probably on her bad side now, but he doesn’t care. 

Hao-hyung sits next to him, waiting for the rest to leave. “Why did you do that?” he asks once they’re alone. “I can defend myself.”

“I know Hyung, but I don’t like how others look down on you. You are incredibly smart and that is something that should be celebrated,” Hanbin says, interlacing their fingers. 

Hyung smiles, brown eyes like two shining half-moons. “I love it when my kitty shows his claws.”

Hanbin checks that they’re alone—not that he would mind if anyone saw them—and leans in to plant a kiss right on Zhang Hao’s cheek. “Anything for my Hyung. Next year I’ll fight anyone who even dares to look bad at you.”

It’s a bold statement, but Hanbin means every word. Wherever Zhang Hao goes, Hanbin will follow. He hopes fate will be on their side. “You’ll be there?” 

“I’m not letting you out of my sight, Zhang Hao. Who will stop you from getting into fights otherwise?”

Hyung laughs, the sound hearty and infectious, coming from his belly. Happiness suits him, makes him shine even brighter. “I’m not letting you out of my sight either, Sung Hanbin. Who will stop you from spending eighteen thousand won on a claw machine otherwise?”

“Ahhh hyuuung, will you ever let that go?” Hanbin whines, scrunching his eyebrows. 

“Never.”

Never is infinite. Hanbin can live with that.

Notes:

THANKSSSSS FOR READING *3*