Chapter Text
There isn’t a lot to miss about Texas.
Hao was only eleven when his mother whisked him back to California, but even at that age he had to try very hard to find things to miss about the state. He always hated the weather: the joy of having four seasons is almost nonexistent and the summers felt closer to hell than any place on Earth. Hao hated long car rides, he hated sticker burrs that would hide in the grass and poke him when he was playing outside, he hated the sports teams that his parents always forced him to join, he hated going to church on Sundays and the looks people gave him when he told them that little fact.
As he neared middle school, he grew to hate his small town. He hated that he only had one friend all throughout elementary school, hated that he only made that friend because they were the only Asian kids in the entire school. He hated country music- to him it all sounded the same. He hated rodeo season, hated how popular it was to rope animals and torture them into bucking people off for sport.
He made a physical list, actually. A whole two pages of reasons to hate Texas, scrawled out on a sheet of wide-ruled notebook paper. Shoved in the backseat of their car, stuck next to piles of luggage they packed up from their old house to take with them on their drive back to California, Hao wrote lines and lines of things he would not miss about Texas. He sat in the car and made that list for hours, eventually finding a stopping point right when they finally crossed state lines, finally leaving behind a place Hao had found so many things to hate about.
However, despite his list, despite the lines and lines of things he was able to find that he would not miss about Texas, there was still a couple things he knew he was leaving behind that struck him like a knife to the chest.
He would miss southern food. The hearty, warm comfort of barbecue. The almost unbearable sweetness of iced tea, especially as a remedy for the hellish summer heat. Meals he would have in small mom and pop restaurants, where he could order a chicken fried steak from the kids menu and get served one the size of his head.
He would miss the amount of animals he saw on a day to day basis. His neighbors owned a some horses, ones they would let roam free in their yard from time to time. Hao would sneak sugar cubes from their kitchen and spend his afternoons feeding the horses while they let him pet them on the nose. They always passed a farm on his way to school, one that had so many cows behind the fence that he was never able to count as they drove by. Once, he noticed the farm had a new baby cow that was resting underneath a big tree on the land. He made his mother pull over so he could get a good look at the cute little cow. He could only stay for a moment, though, before she began to complain of the smell and made him get back in the car.
He would miss the way the wild flowers grew on the sides of the roads. In the spring, they bloomed seemingly overnight, eventually taking over every patch of grass in the vicinity with their vibrant colors. He knows Texas is known for their bluebonnets, which he did think were beautiful, but his favorite to see were always the pink buttercups that would sprout amongst the batches of other flowers. There was a field next to Hao’s old home that became an entire ocean of beautiful flowers for a couple months. He would definitely miss that.
Most of all, he would miss Hanbin.
The boy he met on his first day of third grade; his only friend for the entire three years that he lived in the state. The only person he’s ever met to have dimples that looked like little whiskers on a cat.
Hao was a year older than Hanbin, but their months of birth had them in the same grade- Hao as one of the oldest in their grade and Hanbin as one of the youngest, but they became best friends almost immediately while waiting in the halls of the school for class to start in the early morning. Hao spotted him as soon as his mother dropped him off in the car line. Everyone else was gathered in groups, excitedly chatting amongst themselves and playing around, meanwhile Hanbin was alone in the corner, looking like he was trying to become one with the wall. Hao, who from an early age knew he was born to command a room, headed over to him, determined to make that boy his friend by the end of the day. It only took about thirty minutes for them to declare each other best friends.
Hanbin was a sensitive kid; he was too perceptive of the way others saw him for his own good, too softhearted and gentle for the attitudes of some of the kids they went to school with. He was short, shy, still had a little bit of baby fat that clung onto his cheeks and limbs. Most of the time, he kept to himself. Never made a scene, tried to hide himself away in crowds, but with Hao he blossomed like the wildflowers Hao loved to see on the side of the roads. He nearly turned into a different kid when they were alone together, still sweet and gentle and kind, but filled with energy and life that made him almost hyper at times. No one else saw that side of him at school, which made Hao even more protective over his friend when other kids would make fun of him.
Hao remembers finishing his list, all two pages of it, right as they exited Texas for what he thought would be the last time in his life, and immediately tore it to shreds. And for the first time during their entire moving process, he cried. Right in the backseat of their car, startling his parents with his sudden outburst of emotion. His parents were rightfully confused, since Hao had been so excited to leave Texas and would not stop talking about all the things he hated about it, but in that moment, all Hao could do was mourn the loss of his best friend, a person he had grown so attached to in those three years of his youth.
Hanbin was only thing that could actually make him miss Texas.
»»——⍟——««
When his father asked him if he wanted to finish out his Senior year in California with his mother or move back to Texas with him after the divorce, the choice wasn’t as easy for him as one might think. Nearly six years away from the state has made his hatred for it dissipate like fog when the early morning sun makes its way further into the sky. Once, those things he hated clung to every aspect of his memory and tainted his childhood with negativity, but as the years went on and he grew up a little, he had come to forget all of the parts he despised. Saw them with nothing more than fond nostalgia. On top of his shoddy memory, he found his true passion in life during his time in California. Something that had a home in Texas, something he could actually pursue in the state in a way he would never be able to if he stayed in the suburbs of Southern California
Livestock veterinary.
Living in Texas for a good part of his childhood made his fascination with farm animals grow into a passion, living in California made him realize it was passion that could become a profession if he moved back to Texas with his father. So, for that reason and really that reason alone, Hao packed up his things and decided to finish his senior year of high school in Texas.
Being back in this small town that he grew up in nearly gives him whiplash. It hasn’t changed. Not even a little bit. They’re moving into a different house, but their neighborhood is still the same sprout of random houses off a farm-to-market road leading into the town. The same grocery store exists as the pinnacle of the town, smack dab in the middle of it like a capitol building. Churches are still everywhere, being nearly as prevalent as restaurants in the area. There’s still only one school district, with only one primary, elementary, junior, and high school. The closest big city is still a 40 minute car ride. Hao may have left the town behind six years ago, but returning to it feels like he almost never left.
They finally arrive to his new house well after dark, exhausted from countless hours on barren roads. Hao and his father leave the car piled with their things as an issue to deal with tomorrow. The porch light must have been left on by the realtors, but he’s grateful it had. Without its weak, yellow luminescence, his whole view would be obstructed by the pitch black night. He forgot that in neighborhoods like this, street lamps are a luxury, not a necessity. Cicadas chirp, reminding him that the heat of the summer is about to come into full swing in the next coming weeks. Their house is smaller than the one he grew up in, but he figures it will be perfect for him and his father. Too small to truly feel the ghost of another person who’s supposed to be living there with them. As soon as they step foot in the door, Hao dramatically flaunts his exhaustion and tells his father he will be turning in for the night. Truthfully, he doesn’t know how much more undivided alone time he can bear to have with his father today. It might have been the most tiring part of their entire move. Thankfully, he lets him go to his room without question.
He flops on his bed with only one question floating through his mind: what the fuck now?
He was so distracted by his big plans that he had completely forgotten about the ten months he would have to spend stuck in this town. Of course, he had remembered how desolate it had been. How suffocating the people were and how boring his days had been most of the time. It had come back full force as they drove their way through the town, Hao actually realized the gravity of his choice to move back here.
With a heavy sigh, he curls up in his bed, trying to distract himself from the sudden wave of anxiety that overtakes him in the moment.
»»——⍟——««
Hao isn’t sure when he managed to fall asleep last night, but he wakes up fully clothed and curled up in a ball on the end of his bed. Sunlight gleams through his open window, and he figures it must still be fairly early if its glaring directly in his face like this. He stretches his muscles, feeling his bones crack and pop after his uncomfortable sleep. His mouth tastes stale and gross, but he left his toothbrush in the car along with the rest of his things last night. Stupid. He sighs loudly, heaving himself up from the bed and dreading having to unload all of their crap from the car.
When Hao steps out of his room, his father is already awake and fumbling around in the kitchen based on the sounds of pans and silverware clanking around. Boxes are lined up outside of his room, crowding the hallway and making it hard for him to walk. They continue to scatter the house on his trek to the kitchen.
“Dad?” He calls in confusion. The clanking stops, and his father pokes a head through the little widow by the bar that peers into the living room.
“Hao! Morning.”
Hao furrows his eyebrows, gesturing to all the boxes around him, “Did you unload the car by yourself?”
His father keeps organizing things, giving Hao only a fraction of his attention, “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep last night, so I figured I might as well do something productive.”
Hao wants to roll his eyes. Ever since the divorce, his father has gotten into the habit of being a busybody. Doing anything and everything all the time to distract himself from the heartbreak. Hao’s own wounds are still fresh and in the process of healing too, but he’s starting to get real tired of his father’s new jittery nature. It’s like he has turned into a completely different person than the one Hao has known for his entire life. He used to be so stoic and calm. Someone who reveled in the silence of life, who enjoyed reading books in the evenings instead of watching TV. Someone who never felt the need to fill comfortable silence with meaningless chatter. The entire car ride here had been a mix of weird tangents about things Hao couldn’t possibly carry a conversation off of and the radio blaring during the times he couldn’t take it anymore and had to cut the awkwardness with music.
“I was going to make us breakfast, but,” His father raises his hands in the air, both filled with various cooking utensils that he had been in the process of putting away, “we don’t have any food! Imagine that.”
“Yeah. Imagine.”
Hao begins to poke through boxes, realizing his father had no sense of organization when unloading everything into the house. He finds his toothbrush in a box planted in the middle of the living room. He makes quick work of brushing his teeth and changing into more appropriate Texas-summer clothing before finding his father again, still buried in tableware in the kitchen. He continues going through boxes in the living room, trying to at least gather all of his things together to take to his room.
“I figured, since I unloaded everything last night, you could make the first trip to the grocery store for us.”
He shoots his head up, “That’s not fair! I didn’t ask you to unload everything by yourself. I was going to help with that, too.”
“Come on, son. It’s just the grocery store. I know you didn’t want to unload this stuff, anyway,” Hao continues to stare at him, very displeased at this situation he has found himself in, “Just groceries for a few days. I can go again sometime this week for all the other things I’m sure we will need. Grab stuff for breakfast and sandwiches or something, okay?”
Hao sighs, but doesn’t bother fighting him on it, “Keys?”
“On the hook by the door. Thank you.”
»»——⍟——««
The drive to the grocery store is about 7 minutes. Hao spends a majority of it flipping through radio stations, trying to find a channel that isn’t playing an ad or country music. He finally lands on what he thinks is a generic pop hits one that is blasting the newest Rihanna by the time he reaches his destination.
It’s a Saturday morning and the grocery store looks like it’s hosting the entire town. People with baskets crowd the aisles, most of them parked in the middle as they chat to one another like they aren’t causing a huge traffic jam around them. Hao knew he made the right choice to forgo a cart, but as his little basket fills with their groceries, the difficulty in carrying it grows and makes him rethink that choice. Eventually, he resides to holding it with both arms cradling the bottom as he searches for the aisle where the sliced bread could be hiding. He absolutely loathes the lack of signs above the aisles, as it makes his search for their items nearly impossible with all the people swarming around him.
“Hao!”
He snaps his head around at the sound of his name. Or what could have been the sound of his name. It was so faint, he hardly heard it on top of all the noise. He must have misheard, though, because there is no way someone could be looking for him here of all places. It’s an easy thing to mistake, between the chattering of people and shuffling of feet. That or he must be going crazy.
“Zhang Hao!”
He must be going crazy.
Unmistakably, that was his name. He stops, quite dramatically in the middle of the aisle, frantically searching for the source of the voice that called his name. Sure enough, a boy about his age, tall with jet black hair is striding his way towards him, an easy smile plastered on his face.
“What…?” He whispers to himself.
The man’s smile grows, and Ah, of course. How could he ever forget the sight of those dimples. Although, once they belonged to a face much less chiseled and aged. One that would turn beet red in the summer sun while they played outside, one that became the canvas for big fat tears to slide down when he got bullied by kids at school, one that had been rounder and innocent and far less handsome than the one he stares down now.
“Hanbin?” He asks incredulously.
The Hanbin before him holds out his arms in a “It’s me” gesture and tilts his head to the side, eyes somehow twinkling underneath the LED lights of the grocery store. Hao tries, but he cannot seem to pick up his jaw from the floor. If he hadn’t smiled just now and showed off those unique dimples of his, Hao would still be wondering who the hell was calling his name in this grocery store. To say that Hanbin has grown would be the understatement of the year. He’s so tall, just about as tall as Hao. He’s broad now, too. Hao stares at the way the material of his T-shirt stretches over his shoulders, the way those shoulders taper down into his belted waist. He’s wearing dark wash jeans and boots, showing off the beautiful lines of his body in a way Hao didn’t know was even possible while still being fully clothed.
“God! It’s been so long,” Hanbin laughs.
His voice shocks Hao out of his daze. Hanbin’s laugh washes over him like a cool sip of water, like finding shade on a hot summer’s day. It’s just as soft and light as he remembers. Belatedly he hopes his staring hadn’t been too obvious. When his eyes catch Hanbin’s face again, he notices the boy eyeing him up, too. Dragging his eyes up the length of Hao’s body like he also can’t quite believe how Hao has grown in their time apart.
“To be honest,” Hao starts, shifting the weight from his basket to ease the dull feeling in his limbs, “I wouldn’t have recognized you at all if it weren’t for your whiskers.”
Hanbin raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise, “My whiskers?”
“I mean,” Hao tries to gesture to his face with the hands trapped under his basket, “Your dimples.”
Hanbin laughs at him again. Hao notices the tips of his ears are a little redder than they had been moments ago.
“I know what you mean. You’re still the only one who has ever called them my whiskers, you know,” He says.
“They do look like whiskers,” He can’t help his eyes from traveling over Hanbin again. It’s going to take him a while to get used to how handsome he is now, all grown up, “How did you know it was me?”
Hanbin ducks his head at that, blush spreading from his ears across his cheekbones. He’s looking down at his boots, but the smile he has on is still visible from Hao’s angle. He’s acting impossibly cute- it takes Hao back to the Hanbin he used to know so well. One seven years younger than the boy that hides his face from him now. That Hanbin would look down at his feet when Hao would compliment him, when he would timidly ask his mother if Hao could stay for dinner, when Hao said he was leaving and he was trying to hide the tears that were flowing like a river down his cheeks.
Now, when he ducks his chin to avoid Hao’s gaze, it’s with a boyish sort of shyness that makes Hao’s heart melt in his chest.
“I don’t think I could ever manage to forget you” He says quietly. So quiet, in fact, Hao hardly heard him over the rustle and bustle of the busy grocery store around them. Hao can feel his own face heat up at the admission and he doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t even know how to get the intense pounding in his chest under control.
Hanbin shakes his head and looks back up, not quite making it to Hao’s face still. His gaze focuses on the basket in Hao’s arms instead. Without a word, he takes it from him, holding it by the handles with one hand at his side.
“Sorry, looked heavy.”
Hao smiles at him, “it was.”
He is finally able to detach his eyes from the boy in front of him to the shelf of bread over his shoulder. “Oh! I’ve been looking for this!”
Hanbin whips around as Hao reaches across him to grab a loaf of bread. He holds it close to his chest, now that his basket is being held by Hanbin. Aside from his own basket that Hanbin stole from him, Hanbin’s hands are empty. No groceries in sight.
“Are you grocery shopping?” Hao asks, inquiring about his lack of items.
“Oh! Yeah. I’m here with my mom, actually. I kinda ditched her in the dairy aisle when I saw you, though,” He smiles sheepishly, a thought seems to come over him, because he lights up in an instant, “You should come say hi! She would love to see you again!”
Hao doesn’t get a chance to agree before Hanbin is tugging him forward by the sleeve with his free hand. He lets himself get dragged, despite the curling anxiety at seeing Hanbin’s mom again. From what he remembers about her, she was a kind lady. Always giving them popsicles on hot days and warning them not to go near the creek near the edge of the ranch. She made the best kimchi soup on the rare occasions that the temperatures actually dropped below 40 degrees and was always willing to have Hao stay for dinner.
“Mom!” Hanbin practically yells across the grocery store. She turns her head around to the sound of her son’s voice and immediately sets her eyes on Hao getting dragged behind him. Her face lights up in the same way Hanbin’s had earlier, “It’s Zhang Hao!”
“Hao? Oh my goodness!” She pulls him into a tight hug as soon as they come to a stop in front of her. Hao stiffens in her hold, he can’t remember the last time he got hugged like this, but is able to relax in her warm embrace. She smells like the fancy laundry detergent they sell at the boutiques around town. She releases him, but holds him an arms length away to get a good look at him.
“Gosh, look at you! All grown up and so handsome, too. I always knew you’d be a handsome boy,” She pinches at his cheek. The crooning and affection makes him look away, shying under the attention.
“Mom, stop it! You’re embarrassing him,” Hanbin grabs his mothers hand’s to pry them away from Hao. He looks at Hao with an apologetic grin.
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Sung. I didn’t expect to meet you guys here, I only just moved back yesterday.”
“It must have been fate, then,” Hanbin chimes in, a bright smile on his face. His eyes haven’t stopped glimmering since they laid on him earlier.
“You should come over for dinner tonight! Bring your parents, too. I’m sure it is such a hassle to cook while unpacking the house.”
Hao swallows, pressing his lips into a together,“Um…”
Hanbin must sense his apprehension, because he steps in without missing a beat, “Mom, I’m sure they’re tired. The last thing they want to do is socialize.”
Hanbin’s mother pouts a little, “Well,” She huffs, “You’re always welcome, Hao. You always have been.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sung. Maybe another time?” He says, grabbing her hand and squeezing it between his. Hanbin pushes a flip phone into his hands once he lets go of his mother’s.
“Put your number in,” He smiles. It’s shy again, but the flush stays controlled at the tips of his ears, “So you can tell us when you want to come over for dinner. Like my mom said, you’re always welcome.”
As a kid, shy Hanbin had always been his favorite Hanbin. It was so easy to make him embarrassed and he always wore his expressions so clearly on his face. As a young man, shy Hanbin is slowly making his way into becoming his favorite Hanbin all over again. It’s different now, though- it surely is affecting Hao differently. Hanbin looks up at him through his long lashes, lets the pink twinge his tan skin, smiles at him with a sweet expression and eyes that soften when they catch his. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, heaps of them, swarms of them. The likes of which Texas sees in late September, when the Monarch makes their migration across the state.
Hao punches in his number, sending himself a smiley face so he can save Hanbin’s number in return.
“I better get going. My dad is waiting on me so we can have breakfast. It was so nice seeing you again, Mrs. Sung,” He smiles at Hanbin’s mother, then turns to Hanbin, “I’ll text you.”
“I’ll be waiting for it,” Hanbin smiles at him, handing over Hao’s basket so they can separate.
The butterflies in his stomach don’t die down until he’s fumbling out of the grocery store with his bags, finally settling down in the car only to hear some country song playing on the radio when he turns it on. The man in the song sings about being in love and feeling the sunshine. Hao can’t stop imagining Hanbin’s pretty smile his entire way home.
»»——⍟——««
Dinner 2nite?
Hanbin had been texting him periodically throughout the week after they met again in the grocery store. At first, it was random questions about Hao that he never got to ask in person. Things like: U starting snr yr in fall? and Did yall finish unpacking? that ended up turning into full blown text conversations and even a phone call once. He had been in the process of responding to Hanbin’s question about California, when the incoming call startled him into dropping his phone entirely. When Hao had picked up, Hanbin apologized, saying he was working in the barn and couldn’t keep texting back and forth, but he didn’t want to stop talking to Hao. It made Hao blush, and he felt immensely lucky that he was alone in his bedroom so no one could see the embarrassing redness in his cheeks or the way he swung his legs while talking to Hanbin on the phone.
Hanbin’s text about dinner comes in right after lunch. Him and his father have just finished putting away the last of their things in the living room. Hao has been sitting in front of the TV, organizing his collection of DVDs for the last hour or so.
“Dad?”
“Yep?” His dad sounds far away, he must have moved into a different part of the house while Hao had focused on his movies.
“Is it okay if I go over to a friend’s house for dinner?”
He doesn’t get a response. Just silence until the sound of his father’s footsteps bounding into the room are heard. His confusion is clear as day.
“Friend? What friend?”
“Hanbin. You remember Hanbin Sung, right?” His dad nods, Hao turns back around to his movies so his father can’t see a blush if it decides to appear on his face. He has learned that the mere thought of Hanbin is enough to make warmth spread throughout his body these days, “I saw him at the grocery store the other day. Him and his mom, actually.”
“Oh,” He can see his father pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose in the reflection of the TV, “Yeah, that’s fine. How strange you run into him not even twelve hours into being back, huh?” His father muses. And here comes the blush on his face. He remembers the smile Hanbin wore when his mother remarked the same thing. The way he said it was fate. Hao is glad he’s facing away from his father.
“I know. He’s changed a lot, but he’s still the same sweet kid from when we were younger. It’s weird,” He says, and weird doesn’t even begin to cover it.
His father huffs out a laugh, “Just make sure you’re home before 10. I guess I can order a pizza for myself or something.”
“Thanks, dad,” Hao says, already typing a answer to Hanbin. Hanbin’s response is near immediate. Like he had been waiting by his phone for Hao to respond.
Want me 2 pick U up?
Hao smiles down at his phone. The thought of seeing Hanbin behind the wheel makes him squirm a little. He says yes, especially since him and his father only have the one vehicle to share, and Hanbin asks if he’s busy now. Hao looks at the stack of movies in front of him, still waiting to be organized into their place on his shelf, and responds with a no.
I’m omw
Hao glances up at the time. It’s hardly 2pm. Either the Sung’s eat dinner earlier than he remembers, or Hanbin is just as excited to see him as Hao is. Hao immediately springs into action, changing his loungewear into something more presentable. He almost tugs on his white sneakers, but suddenly had a vivid image of where exactly Hanbin is taking him and decides white shoes would be a grave mistake.
His family owns a ranch about ten minutes east of town and Hao spent countless afternoons of his childhood there with Hanbin. As a kid, Hanbin’s ranch was his favorite place in the whole world. It was huge, sprawling across the land so wide that he could walk in any direction from their house and get far enough to no longer see it in the distance. A lot of it was flat land, with various barns and stables scattered around. Towards the back of the property, there was a line of trees that supposedly shielded a creek that ran along the edge. They were strictly forbidden from venturing past the trees, though, since it would be much harder to keep an eye on them and make sure they weren’t getting into trouble. Their family bred and raised animals, another thing Hao absolutely loved about it. He would accompany Hanbin as he did his various chores around the ranch after school- tending to the chickens, brushing the horses, making sure all of the pigs had food. Hao loved being around all the animals, Hanbin hated having to do the dirty work.
“I’m gonna grow up to do that one day. On my very own ranch, too,” Hanbin had told him one afternoon. They sat on the steel gate to one of the barns that held most of the equipment, watching Hanbin’s father and a couple other ranchhands round up cattle on their horses in the distance. The summer heat had already turned Hanbin’s little face into a tomato and sweat was dripping steadily down his temple. Hao felt sticky with sweat, too, but being on Hanbin’s ranch was the only place where he would never complain about it.
“Can you even ride a horse yet?” Hao asked, being a brat as usual. Hanbin jumped down from the steel gate and pointed a finger at Hao.
“Yes I can! My daddy taught me. I even have a horse of my very own, look,” He started walking off, Hao had to spring off the gate in Hanbin’s direction to keep up with him. Hanbin led him to the horses stables, stopping in front of a beautiful white horse behind one of the doors. “See? This is Byeol,” Hanbin pet her on the nose gently, “My mom picked her out for me. Her name means Star.”
“Hello, Byeol. I’m Hao. My name means sky, we match. Kinda,” he mused as he pet Byeol’s mane.
She let them pet her until Hanbin’s father rode in on his own horse, asking Hanbin if he’s finished with his chores yet. Hao remembers laughing at him when he had to stomp away to go finish them.
Now, nearly nine years later, Hanbin pulls up to his house not on a majestic white horse, but in a run down white pickup truck. It’s a two-door, with only one row of seats and a large bed in the back. Hanbin has a window rolled down and he waves at him through it when he spots Hao on the porch. As he climbs in, he hears music playing softly on the radio and his eyes drift to a cute photo of Hanbin and his mother tucked in a crease of the upholstery on the dashboard. Hanbin turns a knob on the stereo to lower the music further and shoots Hao a blinding smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Hao says sweetly back at him, “This isn’t dinnertime.”
Hanbin widens his eyes, feigning shock and looks out the windows, “No way, really?”
Hao pouts and pokes him on the shoulder.
“I wanted to show you around the ranch. You used to beg to come see it,” Hanbin shifts gears between them and places a hand behind Hao’s headrest to back out of his driveway. Hao has to look away from the stretch of his biceps underneath his white t-shirt for his own sanity.
Hao scoffs, “I did not beg. You were the one begging me to stay for dinner, in case you forgot.”
“But how did we get there? After you begged to come to the ranch in the first place,” Hanbin laughs at him, “And you so did beg. I remember your tactic, too. You used to barter with your parents. ’If you let me go to Hanbin’s tonight i’ll never ask for anything ever again,’”Hanbin says, pitching his voice up to imitate ten year old Hao.
Hao crosses his arms, “At least I had a tactic. All you did was say please over and over until your poor mother agreed.”
Hanbin bursts out in laughter. It’s loud enough to compete with the wind that’s pounding outside his window as they drive down the road.
“Do you not have AC in here?” He asks, sticking a hand out his open window.
“Nope,” Hanbin smiles at him, he grabs a silver iPod from the cup holder and hands it to Hao, “I’ve got a stereo, though. Installed it myself. You can pick some songs, if you want.”
Hao searches through the iPod. It’s all country music. He tries not to show the disgust on his face, but he doesn’t think he’s very successful, based on the way Hanbin laughs at him.
“I don’t listen to country music,” He says, still messing around with the iPod. Hanbin has a lot of music downloaded, all artists and albums he’s never heard of in his life.
“Oh,” He stops at a familiar name, “I know this one.”
Hanbin turns up the volume to hear the song better and he laughs a little when the guitar twangs its intro.
“Tim McGraw?”
“No, Taylor Swift.”
“Yes, but she’s singing about Tim McGraw,” Hanbin looks over at him, Zhang Hao shrugs. If he’s honest, he’s never heard this song, either. He just recognized Taylor Swift. Hanbin had the entire album downloaded and he just hit play on it.
“I don’t know who that is,” Hao admits.
“I can’t believe you lived in Texas for years and don’t know any country artists. That’s a little crazy, Hao.”
“I could probably recognize some songs if they played? From like, the grocery stores and stuff.” They always play country music in the grocery stores here. His parents never listened to country, but he knows Hanbin’s parents do. Hao could probably place some songs he’s heard strictly at Hanbin’s house. His father often played music in the barn, let it blast through the open doors as he worked.
“I have some Tim McGraw downloaded, if you want to hear who Taylor Swift is actually singing about.”
Hao maneuvers through Hanbin’s iPod, finding Tim McGraw and seeing a plethora of songs there.
“Some? You have every single song on here.”
“Not every single song,” He rolls his eyes, “Play Shotgun Rider.It’s my mom’s new favorite.”
Hao follows instructions and a country song starts playing, sounding exactly like every other country song he’s ever heard before. He doesn’t tell Hanbin that, but he continues choosing random Tim McGraw songs to play during their drive, anyway. He may not care for the music, but he likes the way Hanbin taps his fingers on the wheel to the beat. He likes that sometimes he can’t help but sing along to the lyrics of the song that plays during lulls in their conversation. He likes the way the wind ruffles through Hanbin’s soft hair, how comfortable he looks behind the wheel of his truck. When a song comes on that he seems to like more than the others, he smiles a little as it starts. Hao takes note of as many of those songs as he can.
After a twenty minute drive, they finally pull up to the ranch. Its large, black iron gate is just as expensive looking as he remembers it being. The emblem of their ranch stands large and tall over the gate. Hao never paid attention to the smaller details of the Sung family ranch in his youth, he was far too distracted by the animals that roamed beyond the gate to bother, but now he sees that the emblem of the ranch is a large S with a sun, moon, and star around the top. It’s quite pretty.
“Be right back,” Hanbin says as he parks the truck. He hops out, propping the gate open with a brick on the dirt road.
“Big fancy gate can’t open automatically?” Hao asks, teasing him.
“Big fancy gate can open automatically for equally fancy car with built in buttons for it. Not for a shitty Chevy Silverado, unfortunately.”
“What? You’re telling me this isn’t a fancy car with a built in button?” Hao feigns shock, “but this Chevy Silverado has a stereo!”
Hanbin giggles at him as he slips back into the truck- which may be the cutest sound Hao has ever heard in his life- and then pokes his shoulder. They drive through the gate, but only far enough so they can stop again to close the it behind them.
“Okay,” He says, exasperated, “For that, you can go close the big fancy gate.”
“I can’t, I was put on music playing duty. Very busy over here,” Hao says, waving the iPod in front of him. Hanbin actually rolls his eyes at him, but he still gets out of the truck to close the gate. Hao finds another song in the meantime, one off of an album he hasn’t played any songs from yet. Hanbin hops back into the driver’s seat as Hao is messing with the knob on the stereo to turn up the song he chose.
“Oh, I love this one,” Hanbin says happily.
He doesn’t put his seatbelt back on as they travel up the dirt road to his house. Hao had played it randomly like he had every other song on this trip, scrolling through Hanbin’s extensive list of Tim McGraw he had already downloaded on his iPod. Now that they’re traveling at a much slower speed, he can actually hear Hanbin’s sweet voice as he sings along to the lyrics of the song. Hao finds it charming how he sings in a southern accent to match the man singing, finds Hanbin impossibly adorable as he breaks out into the ad-libs being sung by the female counterpart. This song is slower than the ones he picked before, but Hanbin gives it his all as he sings. Hao has never once heard a country song that made him feel something other than mild disgust, but he thinks this one in particular is growing on him and it may have nothing to do with the actual song itself.
It’s weird being here again. He’s almost an adult, Hanbin is almost an adult. They haven’t seen each other since they were both children. Hao hasn’t been to this ranch in nearly six years. Somehow, despite all of that, this all feels so familiar to him. Riding in Hanbin’s truck, watching him get excited as Hao chooses songs for them to listen to at random, laughing at his ridiculous passion while he sings, fighting the urge to cover his hand with his own where it rests on the gearshift between them. Hao has been here before, but never like this. It’s weird how natural the shift feels. When he first saw Hanbin again, all grown into himself and turned into a gorgeous teen boy, he had expected to feel the change more abruptly as they got to know each other again. He expected awkwardness and uncomfortable silence with the inability to find topics they related to each other on because, really, they couldn’t be more different from each other if they tried. Hao shed his childhood like a second skin, never letting the culture of the South have influence over the music he listens to, the clothing he wears, the way he acts and believes. Hanbin, on the other hand, is still very much the same kid who grew up on a ranch in a small town.
However, sitting next to Hanbin as they reach the ranch house, he feels like he has experienced the change between them as naturally as fall turns into winter every year. Just like how the town hadn’t changed in the six years that he’d been away from it, his friendship with Hanbin also hasn’t been shaken by the years that stood between them. It’s weird. He doesn’t understand how it can be this easy.
The Sung family house rests on top of the highest point in the ranch. It’s not quite a hill, since all of the land at the ranch is fairly flat throughout, but it still slightly overlooks the rest of the property. Hao remembers eating dinner in a room with huge windows that faced the field with all of the cattle, he remembers Hanbin’s bedroom on the second floor having the most gorgeous view of the trees and forrest that surrounded the ranch, secluding them from the rest world. From the outside, it looks the same. Hao can see the huge windows from the truck- knows where the dining room is and where Hanbin’s bedroom sits on top to the left side of the house. Hanbin’s parents must not be home yet, since his truck is the only vehicle within the interior gates that surround the house.
Hanbin whips the truck around the side of the house, backing into a spot in the dirt that must be designated just for him. He cuts the engine, music still playing since he hasn’t pulled the keys out of the ignition yet. He turns in his seat to fully face Hao.
“I lied to you about dinner, actually,” Hanbin admits.
“What?”
“My dad is in Houston and my mom and Areum will be gone for the night at a softball tournament. So, no family dinner tonight, sorry,” Hao’s expression must signal concern, because then Hanbin starts rambling, “I mean, we’re still going to have dinner, obviously. I’m now realizing how creepy that sounded. Jesus. I just wanted a reason to invite you over and you already said you’d come over for dinner with my family sometime and this is still technically dinner?”
Hao can’t help but laugh at him, “Hanbin, what?”
Hanbin covers his eyes with his arm, leaning his head on the steering wheel in front of him, “I’m complicating this.”
“Yeah, a little bit,” Hao’s still laughing at him. The revelation that Hanbin felt like he needed an excuse to get Hao alone makes him feel giddy, “You could’ve just asked if I wanted to come over, no family dinner had to be involved.”
“And you still would’ve said yes?” He peeks an eye over at Hao.
“Duh.”
Hanbin is still looking at him with a one-eyed gaze. He can’t see anything except that one eye, but the aegyosal popping out below it tells him that there’s a smile hiding underneath his hands. All soft and reserved just for him.
“Dummy,” Hao says. He takes the initiative to get out of the car first, feeling like he could actually suffocate if he has to be in such close proximity to Hanbin and his pretty smile directed at him any longer.
Hao doesn’t walk up to the house. Instead, he goes to the left, where he knows the horse stables are. The Sung’s keep an impressive herd of horses- all strong and beautiful, made to ride around the property to round up the animals or perform tasks for the ranch. Hao remembers the horse Hanbin’s dad used to ride every day. He remembers the very first horse that belonged to Hanbin. As he walks, he hears the door to the truck slam behind him and keys jingle as Hanbin jogs to catch up with him. He doesn’t ask where Hao is headed.
Byeol is still just as pretty as when Hao first met her all those years ago. She stands out amongst the other horses in the stables like a star, true to her name. She’s smaller, more frail, less tall, but her presence is more impressive than even Hanbin’s father’s huge black steed in the stable next to hers.
He hears Hanbin come up to stand behind him when he reaches a hand up to pet her mane.
“My Byeolie seems to remember you, too,” He says softly, fondly.
Hao smiles. The horse sniffs at his hand and lets him pet over her nose, “I still haven’t seen you ride a horse.”
“I know how to ride a horse.”
“Hm,” He hums and pitches his voice up higher to speak to Byeol, “Is that true, Byeolie? He told me he could ride a horse when he was eight, too, but I think he was lying then.”
“I might have been lying then,” Hanbin admits, “But I’m not lying to you now. Byeol and I know how to round up the cows faster than anyone on this ranch. Tell him, Byeolie.”
The horse puffs out air through her nose and the timing of it makes Hao cackle out a laugh. He hears Hanbin’s fading laughter as he disappears to a different part of the barn. Hao spots him walking over to a wall of saddles and rope, collecting various items.
“The only one who doesn’t know how to ride a horse here is you, it seems,” He holds up a saddle and raises his eyebrows. An unspoken question that Hao had been hoping he would get asked since they were children exists between them. Despite the countless hours they spent together in these stables, the countless times he saw Hanbin’s father mount and dismount his own horse, he never got the chance to ride one. A real shame, he thought, since he showed so much love to the horses every time he came over.
Hanbin has two saddles in his arms by the time he makes it back over to Hao. Hao looks down at himself, in his shorts and sneakers, and then at Hanbin, who actually looks like he belongs on a horse with his faded jeans and boots, “Like, right now?” He asks.
Hanbin shrugs at him, “If you want? I know you always wanted to ride one when we were kids.”
Hao smiles, petting Byeol again to distract himself from the warmth blooming in his chest at Hanbin’s endearing perceptiveness, present even back when they were children. Hao may have always wanted to ride, but he never once voiced that to Hanbin or his family. Hanbin didn’t even know how to ride a horse back then, he couldn’t expect his family to let Hao ride one.
“Okay, yeah. Teach me.”
Hanbin smiles and brushes past him to release the latch on Byeol’s stable doors. He saddles her, with a practiced ease that is effortless and somehow so attractive. Seeing him in his element like this is just so attractive. He leaves her there for a second, doing the same to a horse a few stables over. A pretty brown one, larger than Byeol, but not nearly as big as the one his father rides. Hao supposes he could ride that one fairly easy. It’s well behaved, just as gentle as Byeol when Hanbin pets it and saddles it. He grabs the reigns of the horse, leading it to closer to the barn doors and loops the ropes around a pole by the entrance. He then returns to Hao and Byeol.
“Alright, you ready?” He asks, leading Byeol out to where Hao is standing. Hao is confused for a second.
“Wait, I’m riding Byeol?”
“Yes? Henry over there is for me,” He says, looking over his shoulder at the brown horse by the barn doors, “She already likes you. Let me show you how first.”
Hanbin mounts Byeol in one swift movement. Lifting up and swinging a leg over her without a moments hesitation. He does it so easily, like it’s as simple as walking. Hao nearly gets distracted watching the muscles underneath his shirt move while he pulls himself on the horse. He most certainly feels the heat building in his gut watching him.
Hao can only hope he looks half as graceful when it comes time for him to try. Hanbin dismounts just as effortlessly, landing in the same spot he had been. He grins at Hao, opening up his hands to punctuate how easy he think’s it’ll be.
“See?” He steps out of the way and places his hands on Hao’s shoulders to move him where he wants him next to the horse.
His heart is creeping up his throat, the pounding of it ringing in his ears. Hanbin is warm behind him, hands still lingering on his shoulders. He nearly jumps when those hands move to his waist, holding him with a soft grip as he begins to explain how he’s supposed to mount the horse. Hao can hardly hear him over the beating of his own heart, can hardly focus on the fact that he’s about to try to pull himself onto a horse when the feeling of Hanbin so close to him is overriding his senses.
“-and make sure to keep your legs steady. It’s simple when you break it down into those steps,” Hao missed the steps, “Bam, bam, bam, you’re now on a horse.”
He glances over his shoulder at Hanbin with wide eyes. Hanbin visibly melts into a smile, “I’ll be right here to help, Hao,” He squeezes the hand on his waist, as if Hao could possibly forget it’s there. He turns back around and breathes in. It’s now or nothing, he supposes.
Since he missed Hanbin’s verbal explanation completely, he visualizes how he looked mounting the horse mere minutes ago. Foot in the foot straps first, grab the handle, lift up and swing a leg over. Just like Hanbin said: bam, bam, bam.
Hao grabs the reigns and begins to lift his foot.
“Good. Foot in the stirrups, grab the horn,” Hao grabs onto the horn, “Lift with your knees, keep your legs steady, swing it over,” Hao follows his steps, using more strength than he thought it would take to lift himself up and get his leg over. The burn in hamstrings is a result of his lack of flexibilty, but he ends up getting his leg over the saddle with only a little bit of wobbliness.
“Nice! You’re a natural,” Hanbin is looking up at him with a smile so bright it almost blinds him. Hao shakes a little with adrenaline, wanting to pump his hands with excitement, but too scared to let go of the horn now that he’s actually on top of the horse, “I’m going to lead you out of the barn, but to actually ride her, you grab the reigns here and squeeze your legs a little to get her to move. Keep hold of the reigns to steer her as you walk.”
They make it to the opening of the barn where the horse Hanbin will ride stands. He undoes the ropes he tied on the pole and then mounts him, “Ready?”
Hao grips the reigns tightly, “Yes, I think.”
Hanbin laughs, “Okay,” He starts moving slowly. Hao squeezes his legs at Byeol’s side and they start moving, too. He feels unsteady as she walks, not quite knowing how to balance himself in the saddle. It’s a lot bumpier than Hanbin is making it look next to him.
“Keep your back straight, but let your hips move with her. It feels weird at first, but trust me it’ll feel more natural the longer you’re riding her,” They’re still trotting along slowly. Hao relaxes himself into the movements and finds it easier to get comfortable when he adjusts his posture, “Good! You can steer her with the reigns,” He demonstrates by holding his reigns to the side and his horse begins moving in that direction, “And your feet, too. Just little nudges can get them to move.”
Hao follows his demonstration, staying parallel to Hanbin as they trot away from the barn. They ride in silence for a moment, Hanbin letting Hao get used to being on the horse in general.
“You ready to speed up a little? Go for a proper ride?” Hao nods, looking out at the wide expanse of land in front of them.
“Alright. To get her to run, you can squeeze her again with your legs. Move with her as she gallops, and try not to tense up too much. We’ll just go a short distance, so you can get used to the feeling. To get her to stop, pull the reigns towards you and she’ll slow. Watch me, first,” Hanbin’s horse speeds up, leaving Hao to watch his back as they move further away. He slows down a couple of yards away and turns the horse to watch Hao try.
He swallows, and then presses his legs into Byeol’s sides again. She takes off, jostling him more than she had when she was just trotting along. Hao keeps Hanbin’s advice in his mind as he lets himself move with her. It feels like a rush when he finally feels like he has the hang of it. When he gets closer to where Hanbin is, he pulls on the reigns and they come to a slow stop.
“Oh my God!” He rushes out, cheeks feeling sore from smiling so hard, “Hanbin!”
Hanbin is smiling back at him, “Right?”
Hao can only nod excitedly. He presses his heels into Byeol’s sides again and takes off towards where he remembers the cows to be. He can hear Hanbin’s laughter behind him as he comes to catch up with him, the melody of it only adding to the lightness he feels in his chest.
He’s not sure how long they spent riding around the ranch, but by the time they return to the stables, the sun is starting to slide down below the horizon and the sky is painted with bright oranges and reds of a burning sunset. Hanbin helps him dismount, strong hands catching his waist as he lowers himself to the dirt. He’s not as stable as Hanbin had been, but his landing is softened by Hanbin’s chest when he crashes into him and he can’t help giggle as they stumble together.
“Sorry,” He says through laughter. Hanbin is warm and broad against his back, holding him tight and preventing them from falling to the floor.
“It’s all good,” He says. His voice is low, so close to his ear he thinks he can feel his breath against his neck, and the goosebumps that appear on his arms are involuntary. Hanbin squeezes his waist lightly and then lets go, taking his warmth with him. Hao has to heave a deep breath to regain control of himself after that.
“Are you hungry? I think I promised you dinner.”
“You promised me a family dinner, but I guess this will have to do,” he says putting his hands on his hips.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” He says. Hao wants to say he’s already made it worth his while, but he keeps his mouth shut and follows Hanbin back up to the house.
Although the exterior of the house looks the same, they must have renovated the inside, because when he walks into the door by the kitchen, he’s shocked by how much bigger it appears. They tore down the wall that separated the kitchen and the dining room, now an island resides in the middle of the kitchen and a bar sits where the wall used to be, opening the space so the huge windows by the dining table can be seen from every spot in the kitchen. Hanbin gestures for him to sit at a barstool pushed underneath the counter. Hanbin immediately gets to work pulling out things from the fridge and cabinets.
“You guys renovated the kitchen,” Hao points out, swiveling his head to look around the space.
“Yeah, we did that quite recently actually. We just finished right before my sixteenth birthday, so it’s only been about a year?”
Hao nods, “It looks so nice.”
“Thanks! We also added this,” He says, abandoning the ingredients on the island to mess with something off to the side of the bar. Within a second, soft music starts playing above Hao’s head. Hanbin smirks at him.
“Woah,” Hao drawls out, “Fancy.”
Hanbin grins and goes back to preparing them dinner, “We installed a surround sound system in the living room, too. Watching movies in there is crazy.”
“Well, you can’t say that and then not suggest us watch a movie after this.”
“You beat me to it,” Hanbin says. He’s arranging vegetables on a tray and seasoning them.
The music that’s playing is country, obviously because it’s Hanbin, but its slower. Smoother. Fitting the mood of the evening as Hao watches Hanbin move around in the kitchen and the sky darken beyond the windows.
They talked a lot about Hao’s time in California earlier while riding around the ranch. Hanbin hasn’t ever been out of the state, so he had a lot of questions about what it was like for Hao to live in a completely different one for years. Hanbin also told him about himself. How he’s been spending the last couple of years, what their school is like. A lot of the same kids they went to elementary school with still go to high school in town, so Hanbin let him in on some of the gossip about them. Hao is happy to hear that Hanbin has seemed to make friends in his absence. Not that Hao didn’t think he could, but he knew it would be harder for his shy friend than it had ever been for Hao.
“I tried out for the football team in freshman year, believe it or not,” Hanbin says, easing back into their conversation from earlier. Hao snorts out a laugh, opening his mouth in amused surprise.
“You? What the hell possessed you to do that?”
He shakes his head, smiling down at the meat he’s searing on the stove, “My dad thought it would be a good idea. I think he forgot he has the most unathletic son to ever exist. Areum probably would have had a better shot at making the team than I did.”
Hao’s laughing, trying to imagine the same Hanbin who couldn’t catch a ball when they were younger attempt to play football with a huge group of boys.
“Tryouts were supposed to be a multi-day thing. Like we’d do different things each day and then they would tell us if we made the team at the end of the week,” He shakes his head more, closing his eyes and sucking a short breath, “After the first day, they asked me not to come back. It was that bad.”
Hao bursts out laughing even harder, reaching a hand to cover his mouth, “Oh, Hanbin,” He manages to get out in between breaths.
“I know. I had to lie to my dad all week about tryouts. Pretend I made it to the end and then found out I didn’t make the team.”
Hao feels like he can’t breathe. Hanbin’s shoulders are shaking with laughter across from him at the stove, “I’m sorry Hanbin, but that might be the funniest thing I’ve hear all year.”
“I’m glad my failure is amusing to you.”
“It is,” He says, wiping away a tear that escaped from his eye, “If it makes you feel any better, I went through a phase in middle school where I thought I could be an artist, so I took an advanced art class in eighth grade. My final project was so bad, my teacher thought I was making a mockery of her class.”
Hanbin’s jaw drops as he’s plating their food, “How is that even possible?”
“I don’t know! I didn’t think it was that bad,” Hanbin brings their food over to where Hao’s sitting and places a plate of steak and vegetables in front of him. It smells so good, Hao’s mouth begins to water as he finishes his story, “I attempted to explain to her that I tried my best and it was for real, but I think I just made the whole thing worse. I ended up getting detention for it.”
Hanbin laughs at him, clapping as he tries to control the giggles that escape him. Hao is almost afraid he’s going to knock the plate of food he just set down off of the countertop.
“I gave up art for good after that,” Hao laments, pouting.
“Maybe that was for the best,” he says as he settles down. He then reaches into a drawer and pulls out silverware for them to use.
“Steak?” Hao asks, taking the fork and knife Hanbin hands him, “Spoiling me, Hanbin. You can’t let me get used to that.”
“I’m ready to see what happens if I do,” He gives him a boyish smile. Hao hides his own smile by shoving a piece of meat in his mouth and nearly moans at the taste.
“Good?” Hanbin asks.
“So good. This is bad for me.”
“It can’t be that bad if it gets you over here more often,” Hanbin says. It’s flirty and punctuated with a shy smile that makes Hao’s face feel warm.
It can’t be that bad, but it is. Hanbin is bad for his heart, bad for his ability to focus on anything else other than him. He must know that, since he keeps flirting with him. Hao isn’t blind. He isn’t stupid, either. The shy smiles, kind gestures, lingering touches, flirty comments. Hanbin is doing it on purpose and Hao is letting him, encouraging it even. Part of him wonders if Hanbin is really interested in him like that or if he’s just being playful, especially since he never could have imagined him feeling attraction towards boys like Hao did when they were kids. It confuses him, but it excites him all the same. One thing he knows for certain is that if Hanbin were to make a move, Hao would let him in a heartbeat.
»»——⍟——««
The next time Hanbin invites him over, it’s actually for a family dinner.
Hao sits next to him at the dining table as his mom and sister tell him embarrassing stories about Hanbin that he had missed out on during his time in California. By the end of it, Hanbin’s face is so red he looks like he’s about to explode and Areum has gotten threatened about her own embarrassing stories at least three times. Despite the threats, Hanbin remains a loyal big brother and keeps the stories to himself. Hao believes those threats were empty the whole time. Hao helps Hanbin’s mother wash dishes- it took a crazy amount of begging to actually get her to let him help- and then Hanbin is dragging him outside, shoes forgotten by the front door. He has a bag in one hand, keys in the other, and he’s leading Hao to a small garage off to the side of the house.
The air around them is humid and thick. The forecast had said it was supposed to rain all day, but the clouds continue to loom in the sky without having let out a single drop. They had dinner quite early, so the sun is still attempting to poke its way through the dark sky for a last attempt of sunshine before it descends into night.
Hanbin pulls open the garage to reveal a black ATV, and then shoots Hao an excited smile over his shoulder.
“Uh oh,” Hao remarks, “This looks like trouble.”
“I’m a very careful and professional driver of this thing, I’ll have you know. Now get on.”
Hanbin takes the helm, and then pats the space behind him for Hao to sit. Hao swallows his nerves and sits behind him. The vehicle revves to life when Hanbin turns the key.
“Hold onto me,” He says and Hao wraps his arms around his stomach, pressing himself into Hanbin’s back.
He smells good, faintly of cologne- something woody and sweet that reminds him of summer. Hao wants to press his nose into his neck, but fights the urge and remains as upright as possible behind him. Despite his hold on Hanbin, he gets jostled in the seat as they take off from the garage.
“I told you to hold on!” Hanbin yells over the sound of the engine and the wind rushing past them.
“I am!” He yells back. He tightens his hold, turning his head so he can rest it on Hanbin’s shoulder to hug himself closer.
The ATV is fast, a little scary, but he feels safe with Hanbin behind the handles. They fly across the land, Hao has no idea where they’re headed since he’s squeezing his eyes shut against Hanbin’s shoulder. Opening his eyes would confirm how fast they’re going and that may actually freak him out a little too much.
It’s a short ride, and when they stop Hao’s heart is beating so fast he feels like he could faint. Getting off of the ATV is a feat of its own as his legs grew weak during the ride and the warmth of Hanbin’s back is enticing him to stay seated as long as he can. When he forces himself off, he notices they’re at the creek. It’s not huge, just a small river of water between the trees, but Hao can’t help but marvel at how something so beautiful had been hidden from him for this long. The last bits of sunlight shimmer between the leaves, reflecting on the water and illuminating the area with a faint glow. The sounds of the water, flowing slowly down the creek against smooth rocks, and faint choir of cicadas hidden in the trees add to the peacefulness of the area.
“Are we allowed to be back here?” He asks hesitantly. Too many years of being told to never venture past the trees makes him apprehensive.
Hanbin rolls his eyes, “We’re not eight years old anymore, of course we can be here.”
Hanbin is pulling items out of the bag he brought. First is a speaker, a small one he sets next to a tree by the water, then two towels that he rests in the grass. Hao’s eyes bulge out of his head at the towels while Hanbin hooks up his iPod to the speaker.
“No way,” He says, pointing to the towels next to Hanbin, “There’s no way we’re getting in there right now.”
“No?” Hanbin says, the tilt of his lips and smile in his voice tells him otherwise. Hao crosses his arms over his chest.
“No,” He confirms. Hanbin smiles at him. It’s an evil little smile, one that tells Hao he’s going to end up in that creek whether he likes it or not. His resolve weakens even further when Hanbin lifts his shirt up over his head and tosses it onto the towels. Miles of tan skin and lean muscle revealed to him, drying up his mouth in an instant.
He has to look away, throat getting tight and warmth no doubt spreading up his neck and ears, “It’s supposed to rain.”
“It’s has been ‘supposed to rain’ for five hours now,” Hanbin says. Hao can see him coming closer out of the corner of his eye. He takes a step back.
“Hanbin.”
“Hao.”
“Hanbin!” He yells as Hanbin grabs him by the waist, pulling them both towards the water, “I’m taking you down with me!”
Hanbin is laughing, loosening his hold so Hao could escape if he wanted, and Hao ends up getting the upper hand, managing to push him into the water. He overestimated Hanbin’s lack of a hold on him, though, because once Hanbin starts falling, Hao gets dragged in, too.
The water is cool and it feels nice compared to the muggy hot weather they have had all day. He doesn’t get fully submerged, since the creek only reaches to his chest, but the splash from their fall sends water right into his face. His hair drips into his eyes and he feels like a wet dog standing in the water. Hanbin laughing at him from across the creek makes him pout.
When he pushes his hair back and gets the water out of his eyes, he sees Hanbin still dry from the chest up and exacts revenge by sending a wave of water directly at his face. Hanbin splutters, having caught water in his open mouth as he was laughing at Hao.
“Asshole!” Hao says and from there, it’s an all out war. Hao doesn’t give up without a fight. He squeezes his eyes shut as water is pelting him, a nonstop shower that he tries his best to defend against. He hadn’t dunked his head under, but he’s completely soaked.
Hanbin’s hands around his wrists shocks him into opening his eyes. He’s so close now, close enough that he can feel the radiating warmth of his body. Hao had been too focused on sending as much water his way as he could, that he failed to realize that Hanbin had been moving towards him.
“I’m the asshole?” He asks in a low voice, “You were the one that pushed me in.”
“It was self defense,” Hao whispers. Being this close leaves nowhere else to look but directly into his eyes. Hanbin is staring at him with an intensity he’s never seen before. Like this, with his hair pushed back from his forehead and the pinkness of a blush blooming on his cheekbones, he may be the most beautiful thing Hao has ever seen. The sun reflects off his eyes the same way it does the water in the creek, and he stares at Hao like he is the only person in his world.
Hanbin’s eyes flutter to his lips. Hao pulls his bottom one between his teeth, hearing Hanbin let out a small breath. His gaze travels back up to meet his eyes and then he’s leaning in.
The press of his lips is gentle, just like everything else about him is. Somehow, though, it still feels unsure. Hesitant. Like he’s afraid Hao will change his mind last minute and push him away. Like he didn’t know Hao had been waiting for this moment since they found each other again in that grocery store. Hao won’t allow it. He pushes his hands out of Hanbin’s loose hold and grabs his biceps, pulling him closer so their bodies collide.
He’s never kissed anyone in his life, but with Hanbin it comes so naturally. They move together, deepening the press of their lips and sliding together so easily it feels like they’ve done this a million times before. Hanbin places a warm hand on his cheek, guiding his face and holding him close. It’s perfect. It’s everything. It’s them. Kissing Hanbin feels like laughing with Hanbin, like trusting Hanbin, like reuniting with Hanbin after six years of being separated. Easy. Effortless. He’s ready to lose himself in it completely. Not just this kiss, but everything. Get thrown into the creek, and take Hanbin down with him.
By the way Hanbin sighs into his mouth, by the way he can feel the beginnings of a smile against his lips, he knows that Hanbin feels the exact same. His smile is growing with every press of their lips, eventually breaking off into a laugh that sounds more like a stuttered puff of air. When Hao opens his eyes, Hanbin looks elated and a little dazed. He can’t help but smile back at him, although the giddiness in his chest is almost too much to handle. He could run ten miles with the pent up energy buzzing inside his body from their kiss.
Instead, and a little wickedly, he takes advantage of Hanbin’s distracted state to send a final wave of water at his face. It’s small, but it catches him off guard completely.
“Hey!” Hanbin shouts, scrubbing a hand over his face as Hao laughs at him from the side.
Hanbin pulls him by the hand back into his chest. Another hand lands under his chin and guides him back to his lips, this time in a much more heated and purposeful kiss. Hao throws his arms over his shoulders, resting his hands between Hanbin’s shoulder blades and returns the kiss with matched intensity. Hanbin uses his other arm to wrap around Hao’s waist, pulling him in closer than Hao thought possible. It feels so good to be this close to him. To have every inch of his body pressed against Hanbin like this. The water around them is cool, but Hanbin’s body is so warm. His hands are large, strong, and callused- they feel like they’re burning Hao’s skin where he rests them on his body.
Hanbin releases his chin, joining his hands together at Hao’s waist. Then he’s lifting him up, up and back, up and back and down towards the water. Hao only realizes that he’s trying to push him in right before he gets submerged, but he has enough time to cling onto Hanbin so they get thrown under together. They’re both laughing when they come back up for air.
“I’m sorry,” Hanbin laughs, he shakes the water out of his hair and reaches for Hao once again, “I had to do it.”
Hao is pouting, letting the water drip down his face without wiping it away to make Hanbin pity him. When Hao moves back into his space, Hanbin pushes his wet hair out of his eyes and looks over his face. He snorts out a laugh at Hao’s displeased pout and presses his thumb against his protruding bottom lip.
Hao lets him pet over him- trace his lips, cradle his cheek, press his thumb onto the mole under his eye. Hanbin is staring at him like he’s committing this moment to memory. The affection in his eyes is making him shy.
“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers. Hao smiles and turns his face to press a kiss against Hanbin’s hand. Hanbin’s gaze softens and he heaves a deep breath, “I’ve been wanting to do this for forever it feels like.”
Hanbin kisses him again. Gently. Just a peck on his lips once, twice, three times before moving to litter them over the rest his face. Hao huffs out a laugh at Hanbin’s random kisses. He’s making his way down his chin, beginning to move his little kisses to his neck.
“Me too,” He sighs, resting his arms over Hanbin’s shoulders as he holds him in the water and tilting his head back so Hanbin can continue kissing his neck, “Since the grocery store.”
Hanbin stops. Lips stay pressed to his throat, but he doesn’t place anymore kisses. He hesitates for a moment, before humming against him and burying his face into the side of Hao’s neck.
“Since after then?” Hao asks, running a hand through the wet strands of Hanbin’s hair.
Hanbin shakes his head, his wet nose feels cold against the sensitive skin of Hao’s neck. Hanbin hugs him tighter for a second before loosening his hold again. “Since we were eight,” He says, muffled into Hao’s skin.
Hao feels his heart skip a beat. The hand that was brushing through Hanbin’s hair stops and he moves it to the side of his face so he can pull Hanbin up to meet his eyes.
“What?” He breathes out. The air from his lungs has been taken from him. Hanbin’s ears are warm underneath his fingers. He’s trying to look down at his feet, but Hao’s hands keep him for doing it, “Really?”
Hanbin laughs, it’s shy and embarrassed, “Yeah. I thought I wanted to be like you when we were kids. Turns out I just had the biggest crush on you the whole time.”
“Oh,” He says, too stunned to muster anything else. He rubs his thumb over Hanbin’s cheekbone, right over the flush on his face, “Oh.”
It’s suffocating, but in a beautiful way. The weight of his sweet words pressing on his chest. It’s comforting and unbearable at the same time. His only remedy for the feeling is to kiss him again, slow and sweet.
“I feel like I’m dreaming,” Hanbin whispers against him after a few moments. It could have been moments, it could have been hours; Hao has lost track of time since Hanbin pressed his lips to his again.
Daylight is escaping them, that much Hao knows at least. He remembers a time before Hanbin kissed him where the sunlight that evaded the dark clouds to peek through the trees made Hanbin’s eyes sparkle as he looked at him. Now, as they stare at each other only a breath apart, Hao can hardly make out his eyes at all. He’s a silhouette amongst the trees, a figure in the dark that Hao can only feel so close to him. He’s missing that gorgeous face already, missing that soft look of affection Hanbin gifted him every time they broke apart. Hanbin’s bare chest is still pressed up against his; it’s the only sensation of warmth he has now that the air around them is starting to cool down. A breeze ruffles the leaves above their heads, the sound almost drowned out by the soft music that still plays from Hanbin’s speaker on the side of the creek.
Hao feels a drip of water land on his cheek, then on his nose. Hanbin must feel it too, as he tilts his chin up to the sky.
“Oh,” He says. The drops begin to come down faster, heavier, “I guess it really was supposed to rain.”
He looks back down at Hao, who still desperately wishes he could see Hanbin’s face, but more light is escaping them by the minute. Soon he knows they’ll be veiled in complete darkness.
Hao moves his hands from behind Hanbin’s back to his shoulders and gives his chest a playful swat, “I told you.”
Hanbin laughs at him. He must be unconcerned about both the rain and the impending darkness, as he drags Hao back into him and his addictive kiss. Hao can’t fight it, he doesn’t even try to. Hanbin’s lips are so sweet, moving against his like that’s what they were made to do, and Hao is only a man. A weak, weak man.
It’s easy to lose track of time and space while wrapped up in Hanbin. He’s learning very quickly how dangerous the drag of his lips can be when they break apart once more- this time, with Hanbin pulling from him abruptly. Hao is stunned, frozen in place for a second as Hanbin’s warmth proceeds to leave him entirely. The cool water taking Hanbin’s place and heavy rain pouring down over his head shocks him back to reality.
“My speaker!” Hanbin shouts, wading in the water towards the side of the creek.
Hao hears it now, the staticky music coming in and out of the little speaker Hanbin had set up before they got in the creek. He follows Hanbin, watching as he lifts himself up out of the water and runs to the tree. He throws a towel over it to shield it from the rain. A second later, the music cuts out.
“Fuck,” Hanbin groans, frantically still trying to dry off the speaker with their damp towels.
Hao’s clothes stick to him when he pulls himself out of the water, soaking wet and cold against his skin. He crosses his arms against his chest to preserve his warmth as Hanbin picks up their things from the ground and shoves them into his bag. Everything’s soaking wet: the bag, their towels, the grass underneath Hao’s feet. Hao didn’t bring a change of clothes, didn’t expect Hanbin to throw him into a creek and then get rained on. He still has to make it home by 10.
He knows he must look displeased. Arms crossed over his chest, frown visible on his face as he watches Hanbin reap the consequences of his actions. He doesn’t say anything, though. Hanbin looks frustrated as is. However, despite his visible stress from his broken speaker, he turns towards Hao with a pitiful smile on his face.
“Sorry,” He mutters, slinging the dripping bag over his shoulder and catching Hao’s cheek with his hand. It’s cold, but his thumb rubs soothingly over his skin, “that wasn’t very romantic, huh?”
Hao lifts his eyebrows, giving him his best “you think?” look, then scrunches his face up in discomfort, “I’m all wet.”
Hanbin winces through a nod, staring at Hao apologetically. His sympathy only lasts for a moment, though, before he snorts out a laugh at him. He pecks Hao on the lips again and then rests his forehead against his. Water slides down their faces, dripping down their chins in the space between them.
“Can’t help but think about how cute you’re gonna look going home wearing my clothes, though.”
“What, your dryer doesn’t work?” Hao sasses.
Hanbin drops his jaw, feigning offense before he presses a final kiss to Hao’s lips. He grabs his hand and leads them back to the ATV so they can return to the house and finally get out of the rain.
And Hanbin must really think Hao looks good in his clothes, because he kisses him for what feels like hours while parked in his driveway later that evening.
Hao doesn’t actually make it inside his house until 10:30.
»»——⍟——««
The end of June finds Hao spending more time at the ranch than at his own home. More time in Hanbin’s truck than he’s ever spent inside his family car. Hanbin likes to pick him up and take him on long drives before they go back to his house. Down random country roads that he seems to know like the back of his hand- wind blowing through his hair, hand that isn’t on the steering wheel weaved around Hao’s in his lap. He has Hao play songs on his iPod and then proceeds to serenade him with the most exaggerated southern accent he could possibly muster just to get a laugh out of him. Hao feels like he’s grown to know, and admittedly enjoy, more country music in a matter of two weeks than he had his entire three years living in Texas.
On the first Friday in July, Hanbin picks him up from his house for their first official date. Hao has insisted that all the times they spent together at the ranch and on their drives were also considered dates, but Hanbin said he wanted to be a gentleman and date him for real. So, Hanbin planned their date. Told him to dress casually. Said he’d be there to pick him up 6pm.
Hanbin looks so handsome in the drivers seat when Hao gets in his truck that evening. Although he told Hao to dress casually, he looks more put together than he usually does when they just go back to his house. It’s frustrating, almost, how good he looks tonight. He’s decided to wear a flannel, one buttoned loosely under his collarbones with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms. What really does it for Hao, which he never thought would be something that does it for him before Hanbin, is the dark brown cowboy hat he put on. Something about it makes him look so sexy- in the same way that he looks so sexy riding a horse, sexy with one hand on the steering wheel of his truck, sexy when Hao watches him work around the ranch.
He greets Hao with a sweet kiss when he settles in the passenger seat, immediately grabbing his hand to press a kiss to the back of it, too.
“Hey, handsome,” He says against Hao’s hand. He lifts his gaze up to Hao’s face, smile in his eyes as he stares at him.
“Hello, gorgeous. Where are you taking me?”
He bites his lip and returns his attention back on the truck to get them on the road. His silence tells him he’s not getting an answer. Hao huffs and then prods again, “And! You told me to dress casually. This,” He says, waving a hand over Hanbin’s body, “Isn’t casual.”
“It’s casual for me.”
“That is not casual for you. Look at me,” Hao uncrosses his arms so Hanbin can get a look at his outfit. He wore what he usually wears when they go to the ranch: a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Hanbin had said casual, nothing screams more casual than this.
“Beautiful.”
“No,” He rolls his eyes, “I look dumb next to you.”
Hanbin laughs, “Hao, this really isn’t a big thing. You’re probably dressed more appropriately than I am, to be honest. I just,” He shakes his head, flush appearing on his ears, “Wanted to impress you a little.”
Hao’s frustration fades immediately. He presses his lips together and looks out the window, arms still crossed over his chest.
“Well it worked,” He mutters out. He can hear Hanbin laugh loudly next to him. When he glances back over at him, his stupid smile is blinding. Hao takes his hand that rests between them on the gearshift into his lap and then says, “Eyes on the road, cowboy.”
Hanbin chuckles again and follows orders. Hao finds his iPod in the cup holder and starts to search through it with his free hand. During the times where Hanbin has subjected Hao to his music, Hao has actually come to really enjoy a lot of it. Hanbin always sings to him. Every song, every lyric, loud and passionately because he’s somehow been let in on the secret that Hao really likes it when he does that. Hanbin is in the middle of serenading him to Our Song when they finally come to a stop. He turns off the engine, but leaves the key in the ignition, so Taylor can still be heard belting her lyrics about love even as they get out of the truck.
Hao has no idea where Hanbin took them, actually. There’s no road- not a proper one, anyway- that leads in any direction from the spot where they had parked. They seem to be on the side of a hill, one surrounded by trees and completely secluded like they’re trespassing on someone else’s property. He had backed the truck up to face the side of an outlook, right up next to a drop off that looks more like a ledge than the other side of a grassy hill. Miles and miles of land spreads out beyond them. All rolling plains with not a single building in sight, just a couple scattered trees and a fence down below that stretches across one of the hills.
Hanbin joins him near the side after a minute, hands full with things he must have hid in the truck. He wiggles his eyebrows at Hao and then opens up the tailgate, hopping into the bed of the truck to drop the items. Hao watches as he spreads out a few blankets, props some fake candles along the edges of the truck and randomly in the back. He jumps back down again to go back to the drivers side, then returns with a small basket. He rests it on the tailgate and looks at Hao with a big smile on his face.
“Well?”
Hao smiles and slides into the truck bed, careful not to disrupt the display Hanbin set up for them. The sun is starting to slide it’s way back down the sky, and from where they’re facing, he knows it’ll make its final descent right in front of them. The sun is already making the sky turn pink and purple, so Hao knows that tonight’s sunset will be bursting with color.
He’s proven correct. Within minutes the sun gets closer to the line of trees that marks off the horizon and the sky looks like it’s on fire. Texas sunsets in the summertime have always been a marvel, but tonight it’s almost unbelievable. Hanbin spreads out some of the food he packed in the little basket: fruits, sandwiches, chips, and various little desserts. He’s focused on his task, trying to make his picnic as visually appealing as possible, but Hao can only focus on his cute face as it gets bathed in the last bits of the sun. His chest feels warm, heart full and threatening to burst with emotion at any moment.
He didn’t know what to expect when Hanbin had asked him out on a proper date, but now that they’re here, he can’t imagine it being any different than this. Just the two of them in the bed of Hanbin’s truck, existing in the silence of the wilderness around them as if they’re the only two people left on Earth. The only thing disrupting the stillness is Hanbin’s soft music playing from the open windows of his truck. Hao is endeared to no end by the meticulous way Hanbin decorates the bed of his truck, placing the fake candles and little bowls of fruit around them like an art display. He’s endeared that he felt like he had to get all dressed up to impress him. Endeared that Hanbin cares about treating him right, “dating you for real,” he said.
Hao places two fingers underneath Hanbin’s chin and lifts his head to give him a light kiss on the lips. His feelings growing too big in his chest, flooding over with the desire to kiss him for the rest of his life. Hanbin laughs against his lips and then kisses him again before pulling away.
Hao spends the next hour feeding Hanbin strawberries in between bites of his own food while they talk and watch the sunset until the sky turns dark above their heads. Without any light from buildings or houses, the stars shine brightly in the sky. Clear and twinkling above them, no clouds to block the sight of them. Hanbin cleans up the containers he used to pack their food and makes a quick stop to the truck to mess with the music on his iPod. When he gets back, he lays down on the blankets with his back pressed against the rear panel of the truck, pulling Hao down on his chest.
“You know I’ve never asked this, but it’s been on my mind for a while,” He says. His voice rumbles against the ear Hao has pressed up against his pec, “What made you move back to Texas? Your mom still lives in California, right?”
Hao nods, cheek rubbing against the material of Hanbin’s shirt. He smells so good. Whatever cologne he uses has the power to intoxicate Hao, “Yeah. When my parents divorced, they gave me the option to stay in California or move back to Texas. I think both of them were almost certain I’d choose to stay with my mom.”
Hanbin hums, his hand rubbing circles on Hao’s arm is distracting, “But growing up here made me realize how much I love animals. In California, I decided I wanted to become a veterinarian for livestock and there’s really no better place to do that than Texas, so I chose to come back here with my dad. I’m planning on going to A&M next year, too, they have one of the best programs in the nation for large animal veterinary.”
“Oh,” Hanbin breathes out, “Hao, that’s really cool. You’ve always been great with the animals. It’s so fitting for you.”
Hao sighs, snuggling further into Hanbin, “What are you doing after graduation?”
“Ah, just working on the ranch, I think.”
For some reason, that shocks Hao a little. Of course, he knows how much Hanbin loves the ranch, how many hours he’s already put into helping out there. However, he always imagined Hanbin venturing out and doing his own thing. Staying on the ranch and working under his father sounds like such a small dream for a man as hardworking and smart as Hanbin.
Hao doesn’t say any of that to him, though. He just hums into the fabric of his plaid shirt.
“I mean, I thought about it,” Hanbin starts up again. This time, he sounds more unsure of his words. Hesitant in a way, “going off to college and everything.”
“You don’t want to?”
“No, I would want to, but I don’t think I have a reason to,” When he laughs at himself, it sounds a little self deprecating. Hao usually loves the sound of any laugh Hanbin gifts him, but this one may the only exception, “What would I even get a degree in?”
“Whatever you want. What interests you?”
Hanbin seems to think for a second, “It’d have to be something I can do with my hands. I like math, too. Maybe some kind of engineering?”
With how quickly he answered him, it leaves Hao to believe that it is a topic he had already put some thought into. Maybe not much, but he knows Hanbin must have thought about it a lot more intensely than he’s making it sound.
Hao nods, “I can see you doing that.”
“Hm,” Hanbin shakes his head, “It’s alright. College just isn’t in the plans for me.”
Normally, Hao would accept that. He doesn’t think everyone has to go to college to be successful. If someone were happy with what they were going to do with their lives, he wouldn’t question it. He loves when people find their passions and chases their dreams.
Hanbin doesn’t sound like a man who’s doing either of those things. He sounds stuck. Like he’s following a path not discovered by him, but one that was set to follow from the start. Hao wants to argue, he even opens his mouth to do so, but before he can, Hanbin lifts his head and kisses him gently. Hao melts into it, like he does every time Hanbin presses his lips against his, but then pulls away when he recognizes Hanbin had cut off their conversation. Hanbin is staring at him with a soft look, smiling with only a ghost of sadness lingering from their conversation.
“You look so pretty under the stars like this,” He says, smoothing a hand over Hao’s cheek.
Hao sighs, closing his eyes and letting Hanbin touch his face. He must not want to talk about it anymore tonight. Hao supposes he can find another time to bring it up. He can at least try before he goes off to college, maybe convince Hanbin to go with him to College Station and leave this town behind for a little while. That definitely is not a conversation for now, though, so he drops it and stares back into Hanbin’s sparkling eyes. They’re hooded by the brim of his hat, but Hao can still see the way they shine as they gaze at each other.
“You look pretty in this hat,” Hao says, flicking it with his index finger. Hanbin snorts at him. He uses the hand that’s not trapped underneath Hao to take it off his head and place it on Hao’s.
“Ah,” Hanbin said, drifting his hand from the hat down Hao’s face, to underneath his chin, “I think you may look better in it than I do.”
He brings Hao back into a slow kiss. One deeper than all of the little pecks he’s given him throughout the night. Hao sighs into it, pushing his hands through Hanbin’s soft hair now that it’s no longer being covered by his hat.
Hanbin’s kiss is hot, his hands are hotter- dragging down his neck to hold his waist. Hao throws a leg over his knees and gasps lightly into his mouth when those hands push up under his shirt. He doesn’t move them, just grips at his waist and rubs his thumbs over Hao’s hipbones. The heat from Hanbin’s hands on his bare skin drives him crazy. He wants Hanbin to move them further, to push his shirt completely off and let those hands wander his body.
Hao can feel the hat slipping off his head, only barely hanging on as Hanbin devours his lips. He wants to feel more of Hanbin’s skin. So, he detaches himself from Hanbin’s mouth and moves to nip at his neck. The sharp intake of breath from above him is a rush, the reaction sends a fire to Hao’s gut, makes him turn little kisses into love bites that scatter under Hanbin’s jaw. Hanbin’s hand moves from his waist, slipping a little lower to rest at the curve of his ass where his leg is hitched up on his body. His hand splays out there, grabbing at him and pulling him closer.
Hao gets a real moan out of him when he bites at his collarbone. It’s light and quiet and Hao wants to hear it more and more and more. He lifts his face back up to kiss Hanbin again, lips wet from his journey down Hanbin’s neck, and works at the buttons on his shirt. He gets about four buttons undone before the weight of his own body prevents him from going any further. It’s enough for him to drop his head and suck marks into Hanbin’s chest. Enough for him to run his hands over the smooth expanse of his shoulders underneath the shirt. Enough for Hanbin to let out a couple more of those little moans Hao has become so obsessed with.
Hanbin is gripping at his ass, attempting to pull him into his lap, when the buzz of Hao’s phone interrupts them. Hao sighs against Hanbin’s chest and lifts himself up to find his phone somewhere in the bed of the truck.
He gets sidetracked glancing at Hanbin below him. He’s sprawled out, lips bitten red, shirt halfway unbuttoned and bare chest heaving, pink cheeks visible even by the limited light from the moon and the stars. His hair is wild- Hao really showed him no mercy while running his hands through it as they made out- but it’s so sexy all messed up like that. He looks so content, nearly drunk on Hao’s kiss.
Hao can’t take his eyes off of him even as he finds his phone underneath one of the blankets and presses the accept call button.
“Zhang Hao!” His father’s stern voice in the phone snaps him back to reality, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Hao gulps and hesitantly pulls the phone away from his ear to look at the time that flashes on the tiny screen. 11:45. God, when had it gotten so late? Hanbin had picked him up hours ago. He looks back down at Hanbin, who has also perked up a little since Hao has picked up the phone. He must have heard his father’s voice on the other end of the call. Hanbin looks worried, leaning on his forearms and rubbing a hand on Hao’s back.
“I’m sorry, dad. Hanbin and I got busy here at the ranch,” He lies, shrugging at Hanbin, “He’s driving me home now.”
Hanbin springs into action then. He starts gathering up the things in the bed of the truck, putting them back into the cab. Hao almost feels sad watching him pick up his pretty set up; he knew the time would come where they had to pick it all up and leave their little bubble, but it’s harder to do than he expected. Part of him almost hangs up on his father to pull Hanbin back in, let him deal with the consequences tomorrow.
He doesn’t do any of that, though. Instead he promises he’ll be home in twenty minutes and lets Hanbin help him hop off the tailgate.
“Your dad doesn’t think this is a little suspicious? Like, us?” Hanbin asks when they settle back into the truck. Hao gives him a confused look.
“Suspicious?” He asks. Hanbin stares at him for a second, blank look taking over his features. He shakes his head and waves away the question.
“Nevermind. Here,” He says, reaching over and placing the hat on Hao’s head, “Almost forgot this in the back.”
He thinks Hao means for him to hold onto it until they part, but when Hao walks into his house with it still on his head later on, he knows it wasn’t because Hanbin simply forgot to ask for it back.
»»——⍟——««
Hao spends the Fourth of July with Hanbin’s family at the ranch. Apparently, the holiday is a big deal for the Sungs every year.
“We always go all out with the fireworks. My dad loves to barbecue, too. Have you ever had ribs? That’s what he’s making tonight,” Hanbin says excitedly as they’re driving back to his house.
Hao shakes his head. Truthfully, he doesn’t think he’s ever celebrated the Fourth. At least, not to the degree that Hanbin is describing. He’s excited for it, though. Hanbin’s mom and sister are always fun to be around, but Hao has only spent limited time with his father. He’s only talked with him once at that family dinner a couple weeks ago and even then, he was pretty quiet and reserved. They have a couple of their friends coming over for a little gathering tonight, too, so Hao is curious to see if his father opens up a little more with their company. Hanbin promised that after they eat and watch some fireworks, they can slip away again and not have to sit and chat with his parents’ friends.
Two hours into the night finds Hao sat around a bonfire with a paper plate in his lap. Hanbin sits next to him and Hao has to resist laughing at the mess he’s made of the food.
“There’s no other way to eat ribs!” He says, waggling his barbecue sauce covered fingers in Hao’s direction.
Hao actually does laugh at him then, watching as he tries to wipe it up with the poor paper napkin that doesn’t hardly stand a chance against the sticky sauce that coats Hanbin’s fingers. Hao is a little more careful with his food, hating the feeling of getting his hands dirty while he eats. Hanbin must see him struggling, because he eventually gets up and grabs a fork for him from the kitchen.
Next to them, Hanbin’s father stands around the pit with his friends. They’re drinking beers, flying through the cases like they’re bottles of water, and laughing loudly at each other while meat sizzles on the grill. Music plays loudly from speakers they had setup around the house and the lights from the porch begin to shine brighter as the sun starts to go down above them. Hao is excited to see the fireworks when it gets dark. He’s never seen a huge display of them before, not for the Fourth of July or even New Year’s Eve. His parents were never really the types to celebrate those kinds of things with fireworks.
Hanbin gets them both seconds on the food, loading up their plates with a different kind of meat and corn on the cob. He sits back down with their plates and something else wedged between his fingers. He sets his food on his lap and points the other item he had up at Hao. He hardly has time to recognize what it is before a click sounds and the flash blinds him. Hanbin’s laughing, swiping his thumb over the knob of the instant camera to roll the film.
“Hey!” Hao says, “I wasn’t ready!”
“I know that. I can’t wait to see how that one turned out. You looked so confused!” He’s still laughing as he points the camera back up at Hao. Hao glares at him as he snaps another picture. When he’s done, Hao gets ahold of the camera to get a terrible picture of Hanbin in return. It doesn’t work, since Hanbin was actually prepared to have a camera shoved in his face, and he gives Hao a cute smile as he takes the photo. Whisker dimples and all.
Hao rolls his eyes, pouting at him. Hanbin steals the camera again and snaps a picture of Hao’s pout, giggling as his pout turns into a frown on his face. Hao confiscates the camera after that, shoving it in the pocket of his shorts so Hanbin can’t terrorize him with photos anymore.
Finally, his father and his friends seem done with the grill and come sit with them by the fire to eat.
“And I told them,” Hanbin’s father says loudly, voice unguarded and exaggerated after he’s had a couple drinks, “You don’t belong here in a place like this.”
His friends are nodding, shrugging their shoulders, and pointing the bones of the ribs in his direction to agree with whatever he’s talking about.
“Go back to California and take that shit with you,” He says, taking a bite into his corn. He stops for a second and looks over at Hao, eyes slightly unfocused and face red from the alcohol, “No offense, Son. I know you lived there for a while.”
Hao gives him a small shake of his head, “None taken, Sir,” He says. He doesn’t know the context, but they must not be talking about him, so how could he take offense, really?
“What makes two men think they can get married and then move to a town like this?” One his father’s friends joins in.
Hao freezes. His heart drops so fast into his stomach it makes him feel a little sick. He stays painfully still, but slides an eye over to Hanbin next to him, needing to see his face. Part of him expects him to say something, to gently ask his father and his friends to be kinder, to watch their words, to stop being assholes. He at least expects him to look a little disturbed at how they’re talking while Hao and Hanbin are sitting right next to them.
But when Hao sees Hanbin out of the corner of his eye, he looks completely unaffected. Still eating his food like he didn’t hear a thing. Like he still can’t hear a thing as his father goes on about how gay people aren’t welcome here and how they need to stop shoving it into people’s faces.
Hao can’t eat anymore. The uncomfortable feeling that once lived in his stomach spreads through his body, settling under his skin and making his arms tingle and itch. He so desperately wants to leave. He wishes Hanbin, oh so perceptive and sweet Hanbin, would take the hint and whisk them away so he didn’t have to sit and hear the nasty things his father and his friends continue to say about them. Although part of him wishes that he would speak up, he knows the reality of this situation. He knows it wouldn’t be a good outcome for them if Hanbin were to try to argue with them. At the very least, though, he wants a reaction. Some sort of solace to make Hao feel like he isn’t being singled out. Something to make him stop feeling like shrinking into his chair or jumping out of his own skin.
Instead, Hanbin just watches. Finishes his food, asks Hao if he’s done with his, stands up to throw their plates away when he gives a small nod.
“Did you get full?” He asks, looking down at Hao’s near full plate of food in his hands. Hao stares up at him, trying to read his face. Asking him Can we leave now? with his eyes. His question goes unanswered.
“Yeah,” He says quietly. Hanbin doesn’t say anything else as he takes the plates away.
For the rest of the night Hao feels so deeply uncomfortable. His father and his friends dropped the topic shortly after they sat down around the bonfire, but Hao constantly fears that something will spark it up again. He fears what else they have to say about him. He fears having to sit through it alone all over again. He knows he’s withdrawn himself severely after that, especially when Hanbin starts prodding at him to speak and engage with him. Honestly, though, he feels a little uncomfortable around Hanbin right now, too. He can’t help how far his heart sunk after that, and it’s hard for him to get it back in its rightful place and go back to normal.
Finally, Hanbin follows up on his promise and whisks them away to the side of the house. He has keys and Hao knows they’re headed to the little garage that houses the ATV. When they disappear into the garage, Hanbin pokes at his cheek and kisses him briefly on the lips.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much to cure his sour mood.
“What was that all about?” Hao asks. Hanbin is holding his hand between them, rubbing his thumb over the back of it.
“What was what about?”
Hao blinks at him. Is he hard of hearing? Did he just black out for a moment earlier? Hao feels a little crazy having to explain it to him.
“What your father and his friends were talking about,” Hao says a little annoyed. Hanbin stays silent, “About gay people?”
Finally, recognition comes over Hanbin. He ducks his head and releases Hao’s hand, “Oh, yeah. Sorry. They’re all pretty drunk already.”
Hao knows that’s not why they were talking like that. He knows they would say those things sober. That isn’t his issue, though. Hanbin should know that. Hanbin pulls him in by the waist, leaning against the side of the ATV. Hao lets him do it without a fight, but stares into his eyes with confusion and hurt.
“You just let them talk about you like that?” He asks. Hanbin furrows his brows, lips tilting up a little. Nothings funny. Not to Hao, at least. He must look severely concerned, because Hanbin snorts a little at him and pushes at the pinched skin between his eyebrows.
“They weren’t talking about me,” He says, dropping a kiss in the spot that he just pushed his fingers against. He then drops another to Hao’s lips.
Hao is so very confused. He’s about to ask for clarification, or more accurately ask what the fuck are you talking about, when a pop sounds loudly outside of the garage. The sound so intense, it shakes the walls around them and makes Hao jump in Hanbin’s arms. Hanbin’s eyes widen and he stands up straighter.
“They’re starting the fireworks!” He says, hurrying to get on the ATV. He pats the space behind him for Hao. Hao stops for a second, lets the frustration of their conversation fade to a simmer and allows himself to sit behind Hanbin on the condition that he brings this up again later.
However, between watching the stunning display of fireworks and Hanbin laying back on the ATV to pull Hao on his lap and kiss him until both of their lips feel sore, he forgets all about it. He doesn’t actually remember that he promised himself he’d bring it up again until he’s back in his own bed that night, heart still pounding from the adrenaline of being with Hanbin.
»»——⍟——««
Hanbin says he got Hao something for his birthday one day while they’re on the phone. Hao tells him he shouldn’t have, but he’s nearly skipping around his room with how giddy he feels. He’s so grateful Hanbin told him this over the phone instead of in person- the front he’s able to put up about not needing a present is so much easier to maintain from miles away than it would be with Hanbin’s cute face in front of him.
Hao had already promised his dad that they would spend the day together to celebrate his 18th birthday, but Hanbin makes him promise that he can have his night. Hao even tells his dad he’s going to be spending the night at the Sung’s and doesn’t get any pushback about it.
Hanbin takes Hao to a part of the ranch he’s never been to before later that night. They rode the horses for a little while, at Hao’s request, until the sun disappeared from the sky, then Hanbin took his hand and walked them over to a smaller wooden barn near the edge of the property. It’s almost completely deserted on the inside at first glance. He had expected it to be filled with tools or animals or machines like how the rest of the barns on the ranch are. However, as he looks closer, the barn isn’t as empty as he thought. The bottom floor is just an open-dirt filled space. One surrounded by hale bales pushed up against the walls and random decorations scattered above them. An award, a page that looks like it’s from a coloring book, some posters, and miscellaneous photos cover the walls. Above them, little string lights drape from what looks like a loft to the beams that support the entire structure. Off to the side sits a tiny staircase that leads up to the loft area.
Hanbin is smiling so wide as he drags Hao into the barn and closes the doors. It’s dark for a moment as he shut out the last bits of light from the full moon outside, but then Hanbin leaves his side and the little string lights flicker on, dousing the inside with a warm, intimate glow. Hanbin is standing in the middle of the barn, hands in the pockets of his jeans as Hao takes his time looking over the place.
“What’s all this?” He asks, moving to inspect the things hung up on the walls.
The little paper award says Hanbin Sung, Awarded for getting back on the horse, even after falling off multiple times, and appears to have been signed at the bottom by Hanbin’s mother. The coloring page is poorly done, but Hao sees Areum’s name written in scratchy handwriting at the bottom and figures it must have been done when she was a child. Next to it is a picture of Hanbin and his father, holding fishing poles and standing next to a lake. Below that one is a picture of Areum and Hanbin, more recent than the one of him and his father, taken on Hanbin’s 15th birthday, if the candles on the cake are anything to go by.
Hao takes his time looking over the arrangement of photos Hanbin hung up around the barn, all from different times in his life. A photo of baby Hanbin there, Sixteen year old Hanbin here. Six year old Hanbin in the hospital holding baby Areum. Seventeen year old Hanbin riding Byeol.
One photo in particular makes him stop, standing out right in the middle of the wall of Hanbin’s precious memories.
Eight-year old Hanbin, wearing a cowboy hat two sizes too big for him. His chubby little arm is slung aroung nine-year old Hao, who is smiling at the camera so wide, he can hardly see his eyes in the photo. He can’t even remember when this photo was taken of them, but it makes the back of his eyes burn. He left Texas without a single photo of Hanbin. Not a single piece of physical evidence of all the afternoons he spent on the ranch, of all of the hours he spent with Hanbin playing with the animals and getting up to trouble.
Hanbin comes behind him, leaning his chin over Hao’s shoulder as they both stare at the photo.
“I didn’t think we had any pictures together,” Hao whispers. Hanbin presses a kiss to the side of his neck.
“We only had a couple. Random ones my mom got while we were running around the ranch. This is the only one of us actually looking at the camera, though. I had to steal it from her,” He laughs.
Hao turns in his arms, facing away from the little eight year old boy he used to know in that photo, to the grown up boy he’s fallen in love with now. They’re the same person, with the same whiskered smile and painful stubbornness, but so different. He swallows down the lump in his throat and tears that threaten his eyes. Hanbin must see his rise of emotion, because he gazes at him so softly. He cradles both of Hao’s cheeks in his warm hands and places a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Come,” Hanbin says against his lips, “I have something else to show you.”
He grabs both of Hao’s hands and pulls him back to the middle of the barn. Once there, he drops his hands and motions for him to stay put. Hao snorts at him, but does as he’s asked, watching as Hanbin runs up the stairs. A second later, music plays throughout the barn. One of the songs Hao remembers liking when him and Hanbin drove around on random roads one afternoon. Hanbin is carrying a speaker down the stairs a second later, setting it down on one of the hay bales in the corner and then coming back to stand in front of Hao.
“Your present,” He says, holding out a tiny box that he had been hiding in his hands. Hao can’t help the blush that he feels creeping up his neck, can’t help the shy smile that makes its way onto his lips either.
Inside the box sits a silver necklace. The pendant is shaped like a small star, made with thin wire that appears a little uneven in some areas. Hanbin looks up with him when Hao raises his head, smile so wide and bright.
“I made it myself with my dad’s welding tools,” He says. He tucks a piece of Hao’s hair behind his ear, “You look so beautiful under the stars. I figured the stars would look just as beautiful on you, too.”
Hao feels like he can’t breathe. That welcomed suffocating feeling comes back full force as Hanbin smiles at him, as he takes the necklace from the box and places it around Hao’s neck. When he’s finished, and the necklace has found its new home resting between Hao’s collarbones, Hao pulls him in for an intense kiss, needing Hanbin to feel just as suffocated as he does. Needing Hanbin to feel how much affection is bursting out of him in a way that words could never accurately describe. Hanbin holds him tight, strong hands pulling him flush against his body.
They detach from each other when Hao’s smile becomes too wide to kiss through. Hao rests his forehead against Hanbin’s instead.
“Thank you,” He whispers between them, “I think this is the most wonderful gift I’ve ever gotten.”
Hanbin smiles, lifting his head to kiss Hao’s forehead. He then pulls him in for a hug. Holding him so close, Hao almost feels like he can feel the pounding of his heart against his chest. After a few seconds, Hanbin sways them to the music.
“Do you know how to dance?” He asks after a few moments of gentle swaying to the song that plays.
Hao laughs, “Probably not in the way you’re talking about,” He separates himself from Hanbin and smiles at him, “Teach me.”
Hanbin raises his eyebrows at Hao’s newfound determination, but then grabs both of his hands and positions them where he wants them: one around his neck, the other held in his up by their shoulders. From there, he begins to move his feet in small steps.
“Follow me,” He says between them as he moves. To the side, back, to the side again, forwards. It takes Hao a second before he’s actually able to keep up with him, but once he gets the hang of the movements, he looks up from their feet into Hanbin’s eyes and relaxes into him.
Hanbin’s lips quirk up once he notices Hao moving with him. After a second, puts some distance between them and holds both of Hao’s hands in front of him, moving one above Hao’s head trying to get him to spin. Hao does, and then Hanbin’s arm catches him from behind and pulls him back in, now with his back pressed to Hanbin’s front and his arms wrapped around himself. He laughs at the sudden spin and his own feet as they trip up underneath him. Hanbin is swaying them again, though, getting back to the movements of side, back, side, front, just from a different position.
“Ready to spin again?” He asks after a second. Hao nods and rolls himself out of Hanbin’s embrace. Hanbin holds him at an arm’s length, then tugs on his arm, “Okay, now spin into me.”
Hao smiles and spins around, letting Hanbin catch his waist. What he doesn’t expect, though, is for Hanbin to dip them once he gets Hao back into his arms. It catches him off guard, almost makes Hanbin drop the both of them as Hao scrambles to cling onto his neck. Hanbin is laughing at him as he brings them back up.
“That scared me,” Hao says, letting go of Hanbin to hold his over his heart.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He laughs, tugging on Hao’s hand to get him back in his space, “You’ve got the hang of it now though, right?”
Hao nods, but he separates from Hanbin before they can start dancing again.
“There’s a song I want to hear,” He says when Hanbin shoots him a confused look. Hao goes to where Hanbin’s speaker sits and uses his iPod to find the song. Hanbin is giving him the most tender smile when he turns back around, hearing the song begin to play from the speaker behind him. Hao returns his smile and lets himself be pulled back into Hanbin’s arms.
Amongst all of the songs Hanbin has ever played for him, he has always felt partial to It’s Your Love by Tim Mcgraw. It was the very first song Hanbin had ever serenaded him with, the one they listened to as he drove through the ranch for the first time in nearly six years. Hao had found him ridiculous as he sang loudly and dramatically to the lyrics, but the song stuck with him after that. The feeling of being so familiar with Hanbin, even after all their years apart, stuck with him after that. He told Hanbin that he wanted to kiss him after seeing him again for the first time in that grocery store all those weeks ago, but that moment in his truck, when he sang in a terribly exaggerated southern accent and smiled at Hao with his dimples on full display, is when Hao thinks like he might have started falling in love with him.
As he looks up at Hanbin now- all handsome with his strong eyebrows, sharp jaw, and kind eyes- there’s no doubt that he’s in love with him.
“Hanbin,” He says quietly, face so close to his that his lips brush Hanbin’s when he speaks.
“Hmm?”
He hesitates for a moment. Not because he thinks Hanbin won’t return his same feelings. Not because he’s scared to tell him, but because he feels like love would be too short of a word to truly capture all that he feels for the man in front of him. Safe is a good word. Happy is another. Like himself is probably the closest he can get, but he doesn’t know how to voice all that to Hanbin right now. Love will have to do, he supposes. He knows Hanbin will understand what it means to him.
He tilts his head back a little bit to actually see his face. His handsome, beautiful face.
“I’m so in love with you,” He says.
It settles over them gently, Hao watches as his words settle over Hanbin. His eyebrows twitch, turning down for a second, and the look in his eyes feels so sweet Hao could almost get sick from it. Hao watches his lips twitch, as they wobble, as his eyes glaze over and he frowns so water can’t escape from them. Hao laughs, catching Hanbin’s face in his hands as he tries to look down at his feet.
“Hao,” He says, it sounds more like a whine. His eyes are still watery, but tears haven’t dripped down his cheeks yet. Hao remembers the last time Hanbin had cried in front of him. Cute little eleven year old Hanbin who had just been told his best friend would be leaving him forever. The tears that fill his eyes now are still because of Hao, but in a different way.
He drops his head to Hao’s shoulder, picking up the swaying motion he had abandoned after Hao told him he loved him seconds ago. This time, he’s hugging Hao close to him as they dance. Hao thinks he can feel the wetness from his eyes finally leak out onto his shoulder.
“I love you, too,” Hanbin says, muffled against his T-shirt.
He hugs him for a little while, letting the song end and a new one begin to play. Its slow guitar takes up the space in the barn. Halfway through that song, Hanbin lifts his head again. There’s a glimmer of wetness under his eyes, but he’s not crying. He’s just smiling, wide and warm and showing off his dimples that Hao adores so much.
He sighs, looking over Hao’s face, “I think I’ve been in love with you for years,” He admits, “Is that crazy?”
Hao shakes his head at him, wiping at some of the water on his cheek with his thumb. Hanbin leans his cheek into his hand and closes his eyes.
“When you left, I swear it was the worst thing that happened to me,” He says quietly, “I missed you every day for like two years, Hao. Seeing you again in that grocery store felt like a dream I had been having since middle school.”
Hanbin is blushing. His cheeks are warm underneath Hao’s hands.
He laughs and shakes his head a little, “That does sound kinda crazy, now that I say it out loud,” Hao smiles at him, reassuring him that it doesn’t. Trying to show him how crazy his words are making him feel right now, “But it’s true. I owe so much to you. You’re the one who brought me out of my shell. You’re the one who made me feel confident in myself. You’re the one who showed me so much kindness and made me believe that I deserved it. Even as a little kid, you did all of that for me.”
His words choke off and a tear falls down his cheek. Hao is quick to swipe it away, but he can feel his own tears forming as Hanbin keeps talking.
“I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone like I love you,” He says quietly, “I don’t think I ever will.”
Hao kisses him then, unable to hold himself back from it any longer. They stop swaying to hold each other tightly. The music still plays softly in the background, but all Hao can focus on is the feeling of Hanbin’s warm lips on his, on his strong hands wrapped around his waist, on the salty tears that get caught between their mouths. It’s sweet and passionate and gentle. It’s years of yearning and wishing and dreaming. Hao feels all of it, like he reached right into Hanbin’s chest and he now holds his heart in his hands. They kiss for a long while, standing right in the middle of the barn with all the years of Hanbin’s memories surrounding them.
Eventually, Hanbin is pulling away, leading Hao by the hand up the stairs to the loft. When he lays Hao down on the little mattress on the floor, Hao asks if Hanbin will have all of him.
“Are you sure?” Hanbin asks, smoothing his thumb over Hao’s cheek, whispering his words in between them like he can’t believe it’s what Hao wants. Like he can’t believe it’s something he gets to have.
“I’ve only ever been yours,” He says, knowing it’s the truth for the both of them.
»»——⍟——««
The beginning of the school year creeps up on them faster than Hao wants it to. If it were up to him, he’d spend the rest of his life with Hanbin on the ranch. Wasting their days away riding the horses, sneaking behind the barns to make out, splashing water at each other in the creek, going on long drives with no destination in mind, just each other and the little stereo Hanbin had installed in his truck instead of an AC.
On the morning of their first day of senior year, Hanbin picks him up in the truck Hao has grown so fond of over the summer. Now, taped to the other side of the steering wheel on Hanbin’s side, there’s a photo of Hao from the Fourth of July that Hanbin got printed. It’s the one he took while Hao was pouting at him. When Hao first saw it there, he had playfully told Hanbin to take it down, but as he said it his heart was pounding so hard in his ears and he was ultimately incredibly pleased when Hanbin ended up refusing him.
On the drive there, Hao admits to him that he’s nervous. He hadn’t been at all up until this point, but the thought of having to be around a sea of new people, new people who have all grown up together and known each other for so long, makes him want to escape the car and run back home. Hanbin holds on tightly to his hand, though, preventing him from going anywhere and easing some of the anxiety he feels. Hanbin smiled brightly at him before they get out of the truck, reassuring him that everything will be okay, and he actually is able to trick himself into believing it.
Hanbin walks next to him as they get on the campus- not touching him, but close enough that Hao can feel his warmth by his side.
“Hayden!” A voice calls from behind them. He feels Hanbin stop walking next to him. When he turns around, a group of guys, five of them, are all walking towards them. They laugh and slap Hanbin on the back when he gets enveloped by their little circle.
Hanbin is smiling while talking to them, giving them high fives and fist bumps in greeting.
“Dude! We haven’t seen you all summer, where have you been, man?” One of them asks. A couple of the guys have looked over Hanbin’s shoulder at Hao, who stands a couple feet away from them. Hanbin thinks this is when he’ll introduce Hao to his friends, when he’ll say something about Hao moving back this summer, about how he used to be here years ago but now he’s back to finish out his senior year with them.
Hanbin doesn’t look back at him.
“Been working all summer,” Is what he says instead and then leads them into a completely different conversation.
Hao stands there awkwardly, waiting for Hanbin to either finish catching up or introduce him to his friends.
Neither end up happening. The guys lead Hanbin away, walking towards one of the buildings to get to class and then Hao is alone and stunned from what just happened. He feels a little hurt. He didn’t expect Hanbin to force him to be friends with his friends or even expect Hanbin to help Hao make friends at all, but blatantly ignoring him, even after all of those guys saw Hao and knew Hanbin was walking up with him, offended him.
He tries to justify it in his head as he walks around the school attempting to find his class. Maybe he felt nervous about introducing Hao to all of his friends so soon. Maybe he didn’t think Hao would want to meet his friends. He’s probably waiting to talk to Hao about it before he just goes and forces him to talk to them.
He can’t quite land on a solid reason by the time he finds his class. The bell had rung minutes ago.
»»——⍟——««
Hao wishes he could say that was the first and last time Hanbin made him feel hurt like that as the school days trickle on.
Hanbin never ends up introducing him to any of his friends, which he actually learns to be okay with. They’re Hanbin’s friends, not his. He can make his own friends just fine and the last thing he wants is for Hanbin to feel pressured into sharing his friends, especially with the nature of their relationship. That’s all fine.
What isn’t fine, though, is one day when they’re walking up to school, one of Hanbin’s friends- a blonde kid with a loud voice and the dirtiest boots Hao has ever seen- asks Hanbin why “that guy” keeps following him.
They had just gotten out of Hanbin’s truck and were walking out of the parking lot when two of his friends caught up with him, immediately pushing Hao away like he hadn’t just given Hanbin a good morning kiss outside of his house twenty minutes ago. Hao thought, at this point he has to explain who I am, right? He takes me to school every day, this is going to keep happening.
Hao waits. Waits as Hanbin hesitates, waits as he looks around him, waits as he stares right through Hao like he’s a ghost, waits as he shrugs at his friends and eventually tells them he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He leads them away again after that and Hao feels a terrible sense of deja vu. This time, his stomach has dropped into his shoes, and he realizes that Hanbin is going to pretend like he doesn’t exist within the realms of this school.
Later on, when Hanbin is driving them back to the ranch after school, Hao is still trying to find ways to convince himself that it’s okay. It’s eating at him, though, the sinking feeling returning to him when he thinks about it all over again.
Hanbin’s hand is warm in his, his thumb is still brushing over his knuckles like it always does when they ride together in his truck, but Hao can’t enjoy it. He’s too distracted, too hurt.
“Hanbin,” He says as they pull up to the ranch. He’s never sounded like this with him before, so hesitant and unsure and a little fearful.
Hanbin hears the tone of his voice, Hao knows he does, because he purses his lips together and swallows hard. Hao sighs, looking at Hanbin and his tense shoulders. He remembers the way his father talked on the Fourth of July. Remembers how Hanbin’s wasn’t even phased. Remembers that he probably grew up surrounded by this kind of talk his whole life and knows how much it must scare him to even be with Hao in the first place.
“Look,” He says quietly, holding Hanbin’s hand in both of his own, “If you want to pretend like you don’t know me at school because being friends would be too close to the truth, that’s okay. I get it.”
Hanbin frowns, looking down at his feet beneath the steering wheel.
“But just admit to me, right now, that’s what you’re doing. Because it makes me feel like shit every time you leave me behind and pretend like I don’t exist.” Hanbin looks at him then. His eyes are sad. He looks about as hurt as Hao feels. He begins to shake his head, but Hao knows better than that.
“Hanbin, seriously. You can’t hurt me more by admitting it than you already have by doing it,” Hao says and he watches Hanbin’s face crumble. Hanbin undoes his seatbelt and then he’s leaning over the center console to pull Hao into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” He says into his shoulder, holding onto him tightly, “I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I’m just so-“
“I know,” Hao interrupts, running his hand up and down Hanbin’s back, “I told you, it’s okay and I understand. I just wish you would have said something.”
Hanbin breathes him in. A long, stuttered breath in his neck. He’s still holding him so tight, Hao is sure he must feel uncomfortable leaning across the seats like that. Eventually, he lets go and holds Hao’s face in his hands.
“I didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding like an asshole,” He says, smoothing his thumbs over Hao’s cheeks, “I should have known you would understand. I don’t know why I was so scared.”
He kisses Hao then, short and sweet and it feels like the punctuation to put an end to their troubles.
Hao only wishes it could’ve been that simple.
»»——⍟——««
He starts to notice little things changing about their relationship as the days turn into weeks.
Sure, him and Hanbin have agreed to pretend not to know each other at school, but that doesn’t stop him from noticing him all over the place. He sees him walking down the hall, slipping into his classes, sitting across the lunchroom at a huge table with his friends. He’s still so beautiful, even as he’s not daring to even look in Hao’s direction. It almost makes him feel like he’s watching a movie about Hanbin’s life. Watching him go about his day and being so far removed from it that he feels like a character on television.
Every now and again, he’ll catch some of Hanbin’s friends watching him as he watches Hanbin. After it happens a couple times, he realizes how creepy he must look and promises himself that he’ll cut it out. It proves to be a very difficult task, though, especially when their days become so full of other priorities that he ends up seeing Hanbin less and less.
It’s on a day in late September when Hanbin says he can’t take Hao to school anymore. He says it looks weird that Hao follows him out of the parking lot. He also says his friends have asked him to go out with them after school and he’s never able to because he has to drive Hao home. That last part stung a little bit more. Driving Hao around has never came across as an obligation until Hanbin made it one. Ultimately, Hao moves past all of that and agrees with him. Says he can get his dad to start dropping him off instead.
In October, on a weekend when they’re finally able to be with each other again in uninterrupted bliss, Hao notices his picture is gone from Hanbin’s side of the truck. The tape is still there, stuck on the dashboard making it obvious that something hung there once. Hao tries not to let it bother him more than he knows it does deep down.
A week after that, he spends the night with Hanbin in the loft of the barn. Hanbin picked him up from his house and then they rode the horses all afternoon. It felt the closest to what they had done in the summer than anything else in the last two months, the only thing that had really changed was the weather. Now, instead of the hot summer sun beating down on them, a cool breeze wafted through Hanbin’s hair as he rode past him on Henry. Hanbin kissed him for what felt like hours against the stable doors and then led them both to his little barn on the edge of the ranch.
The next morning, he wakes up to the sound of a phone buzzing against the wood of the loft. Hao feels so warm and secure being held by Hanbin, his face smushed into his bare chest and legs sprawled out around him like a starfish. Hanbin groans as he wakes up, flailing an arm out to find his phone on the floor next to them. When he gets ahold of his phone and flips it open to read whatever notification he received, he springs up, jostling Hao who had nearly fallen back asleep on top of him.
“Shit,” He mutters, sitting up on the mattress and letting the blankets pool around his waist. Hao squints at the bright morning light that got in from the cracks in the wood. He whines a little and inches closer to Hanbin, trying to seek his warmth again to combat against the cool October air. Hanbin stays turned away from him as he presses buttons on his phone. Hao likes watching the muscles of his back shift with every move he makes.
Eventually, Hanbin drops the phone back onto the floor and moves down the mattress to find his clothing they lost somewhere up here the night before. Hao sits up too, wondering what time it is and why Hanbin dare let out all of the warmth they made together underneath the blankets. Hanbin slides into his boxers and then stands up to put on the rest of his clothes.
“I’m sorry, I forgot I told the guys we’d go fishing today,” He says, slipping his shirt over his head, “Can your dad come pick you up?”
Hao frowns. His dad has never picked him up from the ranch before, not even when they were kids. Hao’s mother always did that.
Hao shoves his hand underneath his pillow for his phone and sees it’s almost 7am. He doesn’t even know if his dad is awake right now. The thought of texting him to come pick him up from his boyfriend’s house makes him feel juvenile. Like a little kid.
He shrugs, trying not to let his disappointment seep into his voice, “I guess so.”
Hanbin gives him an apologetic smile, and then gets on his knees next to the mattress to kiss him, “I’m sorry,” He kisses him again, “I would drive you home, but we were supposed to meet at Preston’s house twenty minutes ago,” Another kiss.
Hao pouts his lips, making Hanbin giggle into the next kiss he places on them.
“You look so pretty,” He sighs against his lips, “What I would give to just stay here with you all day.”
And maybe Hao feels a little selfish for thinking it, but he really does question why Hanbin just can’t stay here with him all day. He feels the time they spend together is already so limited as it is, would it really be that horrible of Hanbin to cancel on his friends just once?
Hao keeps his mouth shut and lets Hanbin kiss him some more. He presses him back down into the mattress, mirroring how they had been last night just with far too many layers of clothing between them. Hanbin lets up eventually, sighing as he pulls himself away.
“Okay, I have to go,” He stares down at Hao with a soft look, his eyes so shiny even this early in the morning, and then presses another drawn out kiss to his lips, “I love you,” He mutters against them.
Hao cradles his face, “Love you too. Go catch a big one or whatever the goal is.”
Hanbin giggles again. He gives Hao a couple more kisses, seemingly unable to pull himself away. One even gets a little hot and almost has them tumbling back into bed, but Hanbin puts an end to it before it can get that far.
“I’ll text you,” He says, giving him his real final kiss before getting up off the ground.
Hao hums and watches his back as he walks down the stairs and leaves him alone on the mattress. He checks his phone again and the time reads 7:15. There’s no way his father is awake this early, so Hao shuffles over to Hanbin’s abandoned side and shoves his face into his pillow, breathing in the remnants of his sweet cologne and lingering warmth that he misses so badly already.
»»——⍟——««
Everything begins to bother him a little too much when Hanbin starts acting distant even when it is just the two of them alone. Hao notices his change in behavior immediately. Once, not even that long ago, Hanbin was all over him all the time. Holding his hand as they sat in his truck, pulling him in for random little kisses all the time, letting a hand linger on his waist as they stood next to each other.
Now, Hao feels like he’s almost forcing himself on Hanbin. Initiating all of their kisses. Grabbing Hanbin’s hand from the steering wheel to rest in his lap. Hanbin still does those things with him, but Hao can feel how he’s holding himself back from something. Hao can see how on edge he looks.
It feels worse than anything Hanbin has done to him since school started up again. Hao feels unwanted and like he’s bothering him every single time they’re alone together, it hurts him more than he ever thought could be possible while he was alone with Hanbin. It’s something he can’t reason away or ignore.
He’s able to build up the courage to bring it up to him two weeks into November.
Hao had asked if he could come over, something he’s been having to do lately, since Hanbin has stopped inviting him, and sat on one of the steel gates while Hanbin did some chores in the barn. It’s so cold outside- November has really shown Hao that Texas can still have brutal winters. It has also been so cloudy and muggy all day, horrible weather that somehow matches the horrible feeling Hao has inside. Since they had ventured out here after they got out of the truck, Hanbin hasn’t even looked at him once. They haven’t talked, just sat in silence for the last thirty minutes. He’s so nervous to bring it up- he doesn’t even know what to say to get his attention in the first place. He’s never been this way with him before, it’s almost unbearable.
“Hanbin,” He says finally. His name alone burns up his throat. Hao knows he’s going to end up crying, but he tries to push it down as long as he can.
Hanbin doesn’t turn around from where he’s untangling rope at a table across from him, “Hm? What’s up?”
“What am I even doing here?” He asks. It’s not exactly what he wanted to ask, but it’s as close as he’s able to get right now with the emotion bubbling in his chest.
“Mmh?” Hanbin questions, he sounds confused, “You asked if you could come over today?”
He still hasn’t looked at him. Hao thinks this might actually be the end for them. If this is Hanbin’s way of slowly pushing him away until Hao gets the hint and leaves, he may have just gotten what he wanted.
The thought of that being true is what pushes him over the edge. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s crying until the tears choke him and he has to suck in a deep breath to force air into his lungs. Hanbin snaps his head around at the sound, immediately standing up and rushing over to him with a concerned and confused face.
“Hao?” He says, grabbing his face with his hands. Hao fists into his shirt, preventing Hanbin from smothering him in a hug. One of Hanbin’s arms still reaches around him anyway, rubbing circles on his back as he cries, “What happened? What’s wrong?”
Hao doesn’t know why he sounds so concerned. He didn’t think Hanbin even had the ability to feel that way about him anymore, especially after how he’s been treating him these last couple of weeks. It’s so confusing. It makes him cry harder. He’s missed the way Hanbin holds him, the way he rubs his back and thumbs over his knuckles. He’s missed the smell of his cologne and how warm he always is when Hao touches him. He wishes he didn’t have to miss those things. He wishes he could have Hanbin hold him without having to cry first.
Hanbin forces them apart so he can look into Hao’s eyes, so he can search his face for an answer to his question. He still looks so worried, face pinched up in concern and sadness bleeding through every feature as he watches the tears roll down Hao’s cheeks. Hao shakes his head, unable to get his voice to form words.
“Are you trying to break up with me?” Is what he’s finally able to get out when he finds his voice again.
Hanbin looks shocked, somehow taken completely aback by Hao’s question. He starts frantically shaking his head, smoothing his hands underneath Hao’s eyes and over his cheeks.
“Why would you even ask that?” He says, his voice tight, “Of course not. You mean everything to me.”
“I don’t feel like everything to you,” Hao frowns, “Lately, I haven’t been feeling like someone you even want to be around.”
He sniffs, trying to drop his chin so he doesn’t have to stare at the hurt in Hanbin’s eyes.
“Have you really not felt things change between us?” Hao pleads. He needs an explanation, “Hanbin, you’ve been pushing me away for weeks. I don’t know why or what I’ve done.”
When he looks back up, Hanbin’s crying too. Not nearly as intensely as Hao, but his face is crumpled and melted and tears are falling from his eyes. He’s shaking his head, too, like he’s not agreeing with whatever Hao is saying.
“But it’s breaking my heart,” Hao forces out. A new wave of tears bursting their way out of his eyes and making Hanbin appear blurry in front of him, “I don’t know how much longer I can pretend like it’s not bothering me.”
Hanbin hugs him for real this time, gathering him up into his arms and holding him so close Hao feels like he’s trying to turn them into one person. He wishes it were enough to cure all of the ugly feelings he has bubbling up inside of him. He feels Hanbin’s shoulders shake with him, feels the wetness from his eyes drenching the material of his shirt. He still doesn’t know why Hanbin is so upset, since he’s the one that’s been pushing Hao away this whole time.
“I’m sorry,” Hanbin says through his sobs. Hao heaves in a deep breath. He needs to hear more than that. He pushes at Hanbin’s shoulders, forcing them to separate and going against every will he has in his body that’s telling him to keep holding on.
“Why?” He asks, “What did I do?”
Hanbin squeezes his eyes shut at that, his face breaking down further.
“You didn’t do anything, Hao. Please,” He begs, “You haven’t done anything.”
There’s a knife in his heart and Hanbin holds the handle. Every time he speaks, he twists it a little bit more. Even if he is doing it unconsciously, the burn of the blade still slices through him all the same.
“Then why?”
Hanbin seems to be forming words. Trying to come up with the best explanation he has and by the looks of it, it’s not a concrete one.
“I’ve been so anxious lately,” He finally says, “I think one of my friends knows something. I don’t know what it is, but he keeps mentioning you and it’s making it so hard for me to focus on anything else.”
He drops his head back onto Hao’s shoulder, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be so paranoid, but if anyone were to find out. If my father were to find out…” He trails off, sucking in a huge breath. Hao can feel his hands tremble where they grip into the material of Hao’s t-shirt at his sides.
Hao doesn’t say anything.
He no longer feels like Hanbin has fallen out of love with him, which he finds somewhat reassuring, but the heaviness in his heart now is being weighed down by an equally devastating concern: hopelessness. Where do they go from here? Hanbin will never not feel paranoid about being in a relationship with him, Hao has come to realize that after their sweet bubble from the summer popped as soon as they started school again. He doesn’t mind being someone Hanbin has to love in private, but if he can’t do that anymore, what’s the point of them even being together?
“I don’t want to lose you,” Hanbin says desperately. Hao finally holds him back, lets his hands run up his back to clutch at his shoulders and they continue to shake against him, “But I’m scared.”
“I know,” Hao says quietly, “I am, too.”
They hold onto each other for a minute. The world is so dark and gloomy around them, cold and empty. Hao feels like he hasn’t seen the sun in months. Hanbin stops shaking eventually. He keeps Hao held tight in his arms, but his grip is stronger, more determined.
“I’m not going to lose you,” He says, lifting his head from his shoulder to gaze into Hao’s eyes. It’s almost hard for Hao to look at him like this- eyes so sad and rimmed red with the tears he cried. Hanbin blinks and then pushes Hao’s hair back from his forehead gently, “I love you. No one could ever make me stop loving you. Not kids at school, not my father.”
Hao closes his eyes when Hanbin’s lips press against his forehead.
“We can still be together like this,” Hao says, “Just the two of us. No one has to know. Just, stop pushing me away, Hanbin.”
He tugs a little on Hanbin’s shirt to pull them back into each other.
“I’m sorry,” Hanbin says again.
“I know.”
Hao lets Hanbin hold him until they both feel warmer on the inside. Until the cold air of November no longer chills Hao to the bone and makes him feel like the bright summer sun was just a faint memory of his past. Hanbin’s words are comforting, his fearfulness over losing Hao is reassuring, but somehow he still feels like they just put a bandaid on a stab wound. The bleeding has stopped, but only because Hanbin let go of the handle he was using to twist the knife. Hao knows he’ll eventually bleed out once it dislodges from his organs, but as long as it stays nestled there, he can handle the pain. He can push away the anxiety of the future, just as long as Hanbin follows up on his promise to hold him close until it happens.
»»——⍟——««
They spend the rest of November and December in what Hao can best describe as a pipe dream.
Not quite as blissfully ignorant to the world around them as they had been over the summer, but it’s about as close as they have been able to come since August. Hao takes it with everything he has.
Hanbin dedicates his weekends to spending their time together. He picks him up in his truck and laughs when Hao complains about how cold the air is that blows in from the windows as they drive. They sit around the fire pit at night when the absence of the sun becomes too chilly for them to hang around the ranch like they used to. Hanbin lets Hao borrow his jacket, slinging the heavy material over his shoulders without him even having to ask.
At school, they still act like two distant strangers. Hanbin has stopped looking right through him most days, though. Instead, when Hao passes by him in the halls, he can feel his lingering gaze on the back of his head as he walks away. Once, Hanbin left him a note shoved in the pocket of his backpack. It just said I love you in his neat handwriting, with a little heart and a star drawn into the corner of the page. Hao thinks he’s started acting a little warmer towards them while at school after Hao had told him how much he’s been struggling to get through senior year without any friends to rely on and the stress of college applications on the horizon. He didn’t say it to make Hanbin feel bad or to get pity out of him, but he’s glad he at least has those small moments to get him through the day now.
They spend all of winter break together. Nearly inseparable, attached at the hip, and Hao loves it more than anything in the world. He spends New Year’s eve at the ranch. They pop fireworks together with Hanbin’s parents and his sister, and then when everyone else has gone to sleep, they sneak back out to the little barn by the creek. Hanbin makes love to him on the mattress in the loft, successfully managing to keep the blanket covering both of them so Hao doesn’t complain about the cold.
He used to believe that no one suited the summertime like Hanbin. The way his skin tanned underneath the sun while spending hours outdoors, the way his eyes sparkled on the days when not a single cloud lingered in the sky. It fit him so well, it’s no wonder he was born in one of the hottest months of the year. However, he’s coming to learn that the winter suits him just as well. He’s paler now, but his cheeks and tip of his nose turn pink after spending a couple minutes outside in the cold. He pretends like the weather doesn’t bother him after he sacrifices his jacket to give to Hao, but Hao can feel the goosebumps on his skin when he touches him. Hanbin looks good in the long sleeved henley shirts he wears every day. He knows he purposefully keeps the buttons undone to drive Hao a little crazy.
Going back to school in January is sad, but Hao feels so fulfilled from their two weeks together that he thinks it’ll be enough to power him through the rest of the school year. Until graduation and summer peeks its head from around the corner.
Hanbin drives him to school on their first morning back. It’s something he said he had to stop doing back in October, but he, too, must also be feeling the dread of having to detach from each other for hours at a time after the last two weeks. Hanbin has his backpack slung over one shoulder as they walk up to the school, his other hand hangs down by his side and ever so slightly brushes against Hao’s while they walk. Despite everything they’ve done together, the months of Hanbin holding him and touching him and kissing him, the little brushes of his fingers makes his heart pound loudly in his ears. As they separate to go to class, he feels him grab hold of his pinky and give it a small squeeze. When he turns around, Hanbin’s back is already retreating down the hall. The twinge of red is still visible on the tips of his ears.
A few days after that, Hanbin actually stops and talks to him behind one of the buildings of the school. He caught him during class, both of them were supposed to be sitting behind desks and listening to teachers ramble on about what they’re supposed to be learning, but they slipped away from their classrooms to see each other. He thinks Hanbin had finally broken this rule of theirs after Hao had texted him at lunch that he was nervous about asking his teachers for letters of recommendation. He was so quiet in all of his classes, no matter how he consistently he got good grades and stayed out of trouble, but he feared that they wouldn’t want to take the time. Especially not for some nobody kid who just moved here eight months ago.
Hanbin asked to meet behind building three, in the grass that faced the parking lot during sixth period. Hao almost ran out of his class to go find him. Hanbin smiled at him brightly when he saw him, eased all of his worries with one simple look.
“You’re in the top ten of our class, Hao. There’s no way they could tell you no,” Hanbin says to him, his thumb rubbed soothingly over his knuckles where he held it down between their bodies, “And even if they do, your grades are good enough to get you in anywhere. I wouldn’t be so worried.”
His smile actually has Hao believing him. He’s about to tease him about missing class for this, when he sees someone walking their way over Hanbin’s shoulder. He drops Hanbin’s hand abruptly and takes a step back, trying to put some space between them. Hanbin turns around, but the kid- who Hao recognizes as Hanbin’s loud blonde friend- pushes at his shoulder to stand in between them. He looks angry, staring down Hao with disgust in his eyes.
“Hey!” He yells, pushing a hand at Hao’s shoulder to move him further away, “He told you he’s not fucking interested.”
Hao looks from where the kid pushed his shoulder, to the kids seething face, to Hanbin behind him. Hanbin has his face turned away from them. The sinking feeling Hao thought he was able to get rid of returns in full force, as deep and awful as he remembers.
“What?” He asks. It sounds more like a winded breath than a question. He wishes he didn’t sound so weak right now. He wishes Hanbin would look at him.
“Why can’t you just stay away from him?” the kid spits out, “Perverted freak.”
He pushes Hao’s shoulder again and then drags Hanbin away. Hao watches as they leave, feeling like he just fell from a two story building flat onto his back, the breath still knocked out of him from that whole exchange. He doesn’t know what the fuck just happened. He doesn’t know why that kid was so aggressive with him, or what he’s done to deserve that aggression. He doesn’t know why Hanbin refused to look at him. Why he turned his face and clenched his jaw, why he let that kid push him away and say those horrible things.
»»——⍟——««
Hao gets his answer four days later and it’s not from Hanbin’s mouth.
He hasn’t heard from Hanbin at all, actually. His calls go unanswered. He brushes past him in the hall like they’ve turned back time to August. To a Hanbin who looked right through him and made him feel small. He hasn’t ever gone this long without talking to Hanbin and it’s making him worried. Worried if he’s okay. Worried that he’s going to push him away again. Worried that Hanbin is beating himself into a corner again.
Hao gets called out of second period and is sent to the principal’s office on a Tuesday morning in January.
He sits in front of the man, listening to him lecture Hao on how harassment is against school policy and can be punished with expulsion and legal consequences. He watches as the man looks over him with a hard face, scolds him with stern words, tells him that this will be going on his record with no room to question what this is all about or where this is all coming from. He’s blindsided. He’s terrified.
“We don’t take these things lightly,” The principal says. He has papers in front of him, “Which is why you’ll be suspended for a week. I want you to see the counselor before you leave, too.”
Hao’s mouth drops open.
“Mr. Sung has said he’s not going to press any legal charges, but the school needs to make sure this type of behavior won’t be tolerated on our campus. I hope you take this time to reflect on your actions.”
Hao doesn’t get a word in, just gets handed a piece of paper that details his punishments and is sent to the counselor down the hall. He feels like he can’t breathe as he walks down the hall to her office. He’s shaking as he opens her doors. He’s crying before he even sits down in the chair in front of her.
The words on the paper in front of him are blurry, but he can still make out what his supposed offense is, written right across the top.
Harassment and stalking of another student.
”Mr. Sung has said he’s not going to press any charges.”
Hao feels like if he were to look down beneath his feet, he’d see the knife that had once been snugly lodged between his ribs lying there. He thinks he’d see the blood that seeps out of his body turn the carpet beneath his feet red. He wouldn’t bother trying to stop the flow of it, either, just let it escape him until he bleeds out on the floor.
That’s what this feels like. There’s no other way to describe it than bleeding out on the floor.
The counselor is a woman with a kind face, but she looks over him with a serious glare. Hao shakes his head at her, tears flowing freely from his eyes and dripping onto the paper in his lap.
“I didn’t do this,” He says, rushed and panicked out of his mouth, “I never harassed anyone. I’m not a stalker.”
He really can’t breathe.
“Please, you have to believe me,” He says through gasps. She stands up to come behind him, hands hovering over his shoulders as he cries, “Please.”
“Breathe, breathe. You’re going to pass out if you don’t breathe,” She says. Her voice is soft, it gives him something else to focus on other than the anxiety gripping his heart and his mind.
She is able to calm him back down. He’s still crying, but the breaths come easier and his chest no longer feels like the weight of a whole building is sitting on top of it. Once she feels like he won’t loss consciousness in her chair, she moves back to the other side of the desk and sits down.
“What happened?”
Hao shakes his head, “I don’t know. I swear, I haven’t done anything. I don’t know where this is coming from.”
“Someone has accused you of stalking them and harassing them,” She says. Hao keeps shaking his head, wide eyes focusing on the jumbled words of the paper the principal handed him, “The friend of the boy, actually, came forward because he was concerned. He said his friend told you he isn’t gay, but you wouldn’t leave him alone after that.”
He feels like throwing up. This is going on his record. His expulsion and so-called harassment. He’s about to submit college applications.
Through his sadness, through the gaping wound in his chest where Hanbin’s knife once sat, Hao recognizes he can’t let this ruin his life. He hasn’t done anything wrong and if Hanbin isn’t trying to protect him now, he’s done trying to protect him in return. The words burn as they come up his throat, like he actually might’ve just thrown them up instead of said them.
“I’m being bullied,” He lies, “These kids found out I’m gay and they have been tormenting me since school started.
“You understand know how hard it is,” He pleads, looking into the counselors eyes, “I just moved back here. I have no friends. And then these kids find out I’m gay on top of it. I haven’t had a moment of peace since I’ve gotten here. Ma’am, I’m just trying to finish out the year so I can move away for college.”
She looks at him for a moment, her eyes softening as he continues to cry into his hands. The tears he cries aren’t fabricated, they’re real and full of pain, but not because of the lie he’s made up.
»»——⍟——««
He cried his heart out in the counselors office and his lie was strong enough for his case to get sent back to the principal. He has to stay behind to have statements taken and sign paperwork, but ultimately he’s told he won’t be suspended for now. He’s told to stay away from Hanbin Sung and from his friends for the rest of the year and as long as he does that, he can graduate without even a mark on his application.
Hao’s throat feels sore, his eyes are sensitive and raw. Strangely, everywhere else he feels numb. The pain that gripped his heart has turned into a dull pulse. He can’t even feel properly grateful that he’s getting out of this all fairly unscathed.
However, when the sun begins to set and he finally gets home after grueling hours of saving his own ass from his boyfriend, he starts to feel angry. So, incredibly angry it clouds his vision, rings in his ears. He hasn’t had the chance to let today settle in his mind long enough for the emotion to come through, but once it does, Hao can’t do anything to stop it. In his rage, he grabs the keys to their car off of the counter and leaves the house.
He needs to talk to Hanbin.
At this point, he knows the route from his house to the ranch by heart. He can see it behind his eyelids when he lays down to go to sleep, he can see it now in the dark and through his anger.
A drive that was originally fifteen minutes takes him ten, and he’s slamming his car door when he gets out at the interior gate to go find Hanbin. It takes one shot to track him down. He’s at the horse stables, curled up on the floor under Byeol’s gate.
“What the fuck is your problem?” He says. It’s probably the most venomous he’s ever sounded when talking to Hanbin. It’s probably the most venomous he’s ever sounded when talking to anyone, but no one has ever treated him like this. No one has ever been this cruel to him before.
Hanbin stands up immediately. Hao can see that he’s been crying, but he doesn’t have it in him to feel anything but fury as he looks at him.
“Hao,” Hanbin says. It’s broken and quiet. His name sounds like it wrecks through him. His eyes look like they’re scared. He reaches out a hand to hold him, but Hao pushes it away.
“No. Don’t touch me. I can’t believe you.”
He shakes his head, feeling a little manic, “Hanbin. The lie your friend made up about me got me sent to the principal’s office today. I almost got expelled.”
Hanbin looks away again, his jaw clenched, tear drops gathering under his chin. Once again, he can’t look at him. It makes Hao sick, makes his stomach churn and throat feel tight. Hao has to ask, not that he doesn’t already know the answer, but because he needs to see Hanbin’s face as he explains what he’s done. When he explains how badly he’s hurt the person he was supposedly in love with.
“No. It was you who made up that lie, wasn’t it? You told your friends all of that stuff about me. Your friend was just doing you a solid by reporting me, huh?”
Hao thought he cried out all of the tears he had in him earlier at school. Somehow, more find their way into his eyes and leak down his face. The sight of Hanbin’s turned cheek is pissing him off. The fact that he can’t even look at him right now makes the rage burn inside him.
“Was it worth it? Almost ruining my life to keep your little secret?” Hao asks.
Hanbin is gripping onto Byeol’s stable door so tightly he can see his knuckles turning white. He’s crying, has been since Hao pushed his hand away from him earlier. Hao’s anger simmers, but the sadness he put on the back burner starts to boil. It grabs him, drags him under, wraps its hands around his neck until he feels choked by it. He wants to pretend like this never happened. He wishes so desperately Hanbin would look at him. Tell him he’s sorry, say he didn’t mean for this to happen. He knows part of his resolve would crumble so easily. He knows he could forgive Hanbin, just as long as he looked him in the eye and said those words like he had in the past.
“I just don’t understand,” He says. His voice has dropped all of its bite, he forces the words out through his pain and tears, “I thought you loved me, Hanbin.”
Hanbin almost falls, Byeol’s gate seeming to be the only thing keeping him on his feet. One hand holds his face, over his eyes as he sobs.
“I do love you,” He says. His voice sounds strange to Hao’s ears, unlike anything he’s ever heard from him before.
He frowns through his tears, shaking his head in disbelief. He needed to come here to see Hanbin. To see him apologize. To see him cry and grovel at his feet. He thought it would make him feel better. Part of him even had a small glimmer of hope that Hanbin would say he didn’t know about it, that his friend made up those lies and told the principal behind his back.
Now, the sight of Hanbin breaking down in front of him doesn’t do anything but make him feel more hopeless. The way he hasn’t been able to look at him this whole time confirms for Hao that there’s nothing else he can do, no matter how badly he wishes there was. He can’t make Hanbin choose him over his reputation. He can’t ease Hanbin’s paranoia, he can’t make his friends be more accepting of him, and he sure as hell can’t turn back time to before Hanbin made the decision to throw him to the wolves. He thinks Hanbin would make the same decision all over again if he did.
Hao stands in the barn alone. Heart carved from his chest and lying on the dirt floor by his feet. He’ll let Hanbin have it, for however long it’ll continue to beat without a body, and he mutters his last words to him.
“You don’t,” He swallows, “I don’t ever want to see you again.” The words feel like barbed wire when he forces them out, they cut up the inside of his mouth as they escape, “We’re done, Hanbin. I hope all the lies you tell yourself get easier to live with.”
He doesn’t turn around again after he leaves. He doesn’t have a reason to. He knows if he did, all he would see is the side of Hanbin’s face, still unable to look at him even as he’s walking out of his life.
Hao passes Hanbin’s truck as he’s making his way back to his father’s car. Its windows are rolled down, the perpetual state it seems to live in without an AC, and Hao nearly breaks down again at the sight of it, already missing Hanbin even though he just left him behind in the barn. He clutches at the star pendant hanging around his neck and knows if he’s leaving tonight, he’s leaving everything behind. He has to.
His neck is bare by the time he actually exits the ranch, the necklace instead occupying the space Hao used to claim as his own in the passenger seat of Hanbin’s truck.