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“We see out the night with your head on my chest, me and you.
There's only me and you.”
꧁꧂
There was something about the distance.
Distance between bodies, distance between minds, distance between souls. Distance lying between two hearts that had beat as one for years, unrelenting. They're now reduced to passing glances in too-bright hallways littered with scuff marks, silent walks down streets with disguises to hide still-too-obvious identities. Driving down the highway at three in the morning, fingers intertwined for dear life on the passenger’s thigh as the moon illuminates genuine smiles that have become less common with each day spent apart.
The two don’t dare touch more than that; cameras always lurking, preying, and praying for the biggest mistake of their careers to finally be caught on film. Some nights, it feels like enough. But usually, it’s like starvation. Luckily, but really tragically, starvation is a feeling Zhang Hao and Sung Hanbin had learned to endure. Hunger was nothing new. It lingered at their cores: the hunger for success and financial stability doing what they love, like a north star guiding them through the many pitfalls of idol life toward survival. But this time, the wanting had reached a fever pitch that neither of them was certain they could simply struggle through much longer.
This type of starvation felt like the death of loving and being loved in return when Hao and Hanbin needed to consume one another to survive.
Hanbin leans back into the driver’s side headrest and stares at Hao, observing him with longing while he stirs from a nap. He had dozed off as soon as Hanbin parked the car in the back of a sparse parking lot after their Friday three A.M. drive, hoping for a moment of something, anything. But Hao was too exhausted from his nonstop schedules to stay awake, which happened often. Most times, actually.
Yuehua had allowed him opportunities that WakeOne hadn’t, sure. However, this came with caveats. Working on solo brand deals and OSTs and albums, on top of all else that comes with being in a brand new boy group…? It was undoubtedly too much. But Hanbin knew exactly why he worked himself to the bone, as this would secure him a place within the industry in the future. This equals financial stability for his entire family for a long, long time.
Many people depended on Zhang Hao; or rather, his wire transfers. Hanbin knew the feeling, but not to the extent that Hao had. His family was willing to bring in income on their own, but Hao’s had chosen not to, unfairly putting all their eggs into one basket, so to speak. But additionally, staying busy kept fans happy with content as well as afforded him little time to dwell on the profound pain of Zerobaseone’s forced separation. Like everything else, a survival tactic. Hanbin understood. Even if it hurt a little, or a lot. He understood.
“What time is it?” Hao asks, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes. Hanbin reaches out to sweep strands of wet hair out of his beloved’s face. Hao had only just gotten home from a late night practice and finished hopping in and out of a quick shower mere minutes before Hanbin parked his car behind the Yuehua dormitory. Even so, his face is still unsettlingly pallid, so Hanbin places a palm to Hao’s damp forehead.
It's cool. Good. No fever. The last thing Hao needs is to fall sick right now on top of everything else. He interlinks their fingers between the seats and finally answers the question. “Four in the morning.”
Hao looks like he could cry right then and there, lower lip poking out as he sighs. Hanbin is similarly disappointed, but holds a steadfast smile. He can’t ever let Hao see how much this all hurts him. His schedules are more frequent than before the contract renewal, yes, but still not even half of the hell his boyfriend was facing lately.
Hao would vent to him all about the crosses he must bear on video calls during lunch breaks… that is, on the rare day he wasn't too preoccupied tending to the newly debuted Yuehua trainees. Since being dropped unfairly back into Yuehua's clutches, he had essentially become a father figure to a small group of teenagers he barely knew: waking them up in the mornings, getting them sent off to school on time, helping settle typical infighting mid-practice caused by raging hormones, and ensuring they didn't skip too many meals to the point where it stunted their growth or put them in any danger. Previously, on an average day in Zerobaseone's world, these were the sorts of things that were considered "Hanbin duties." Hanbin had just enough social battery and endless patience for such responsibilities. Hao? Not so much. Hao can barely take care of himself nowadays, much less others. So, Hanbin is determined to be strong enough for the both of them. Or, to at least appear that way.
“You were only asleep for a bit, love.” He presses the button to start the car engine. “You are so tired. We’ll try again next week, okay? You need to go home and rest.”
“It’s not my home.” Hao whispers back, bitter venom evident beneath the surface sadness of the statement.
Neither of them had expected they would be pushed by a small gathering of cold businessmen in starched suits to live in separate dorms after the contract negotiations. As if they had any right to control the lives of two men half their age who had been bonded together by nothing short of destiny. Sure, they had their group mates, but those connections just weren’t the same. Hanbin missed Hao’s presence every second of every day, and even that felt like an understatement.
“I know,” Hanbin replies under his breath, downturned eyes betraying his attempts at remaining an unfaltering force of positivity. “But it’ll be okay. This is all new. You’ll get used to it.” He turns the wheel of the vehicle to navigate them back onto the road.
“Have you gotten used to it?” Hao had this way of saying very little lately, but each sentence held a novel's worth in meaning. “Is this really going to be our new normal? When does one get used to this, exactly?"
Hanbin’s car has almost left the parking lot at this point, but the question propels his foot down onto the brake. He reverses, maneuvering it back into a spot with some finesse, sliding it into park before turning to face Hao. Tears sit at the corners of his eyes, fear painting their glassy surface. “Oh, baobei. I’ll figure something out. I- I’ll turn down that last offer I received, okay? That should give us both Wednesday nights off at midnight, right? It’ll all work out, please, don’t cry...” Mildly panicked, Hanbin wipes at Hao's eyelids with his thumbs and then searches around for his phone to text his manager the news right away.
Hao grabs his wrist. “No, no," he blubbers. Hanbin looks at him perplexed. “I just,” he sniffles. “I need you. Please.”
“I’m right here,” is all Hanbin can think to say. He abandons his phone on the dash to rub Hao’s shoulders. If anyone catches a picture of them, it’ll definitely look sketchy. But he couldn’t care less, right now. They’re already in a parking lot just the two of them at an ungodly hour. Could it really get any more sketchy than that?
He supposes it can; Hao closes the gap between them without a word of warning, lips pressing against Hanbin’s with a kind of desperation he had rarely seen before in his older boyfriend. Hao was the calm, composed, witty one. Even though he wore his heart on his sleeve, when it came to them getting physical, it was not so emotional like this. He was typically sly, calculated, cunning. But this man in front of him isn't the Zhang Hao who Hanbin knew before. He is so sensitive, and so, so close to breaking. Hanbin knows that, deep down. And he knows he needs to do whatever he can to prevent the love of his life from becoming a shell of who he once was.
So Hanbin kisses him back harder, tongues wrestling together, fingers tangling in hair, losing track of where one of them begins and the other ends. And then, all at once, he stops. He pulls away with furrowed brows, retrieving his phone from the dashboard and scrolling frantically through his notes for a specific address he had jotted down once. Hao seems confused, chest heaving with the labored breaths of someone who was just kissed like there was no tomorrow and stopped short of satisfaction. But Hanbin finds what he’s looking for before Hao even says a word, hurriedly copying down the address into his car’s built-in GPS before putting it in drive and skirting away. Thankfully, the destination is only ten minutes or so away as he hadn’t driven too far out of the city.
They sit in silence for some time, Hanbin dead-set on a sudden mission while Hao waits for an explanation that doesn’t come. So finally, after several minutes, he asks the obvious. “Hanbin-ah, where are we going? I don’t recognize that street.” He points to the navigation system. “Am I being idol-napped?” At least the strangeness of the situation has raised his spirits enough to make jokes. Hanbin misses Hao's jokes.
He flashes a knowing smile. “Something like that.” It’s been so long since they’ve done anything out-of-the-blue together. There was once a time long ago when they’d toured Paris in masks, pulling them down to kiss behind bookshelves in the backs of libraries full of novels that neither of them could read, even if they tried.
Held hands tightly as they giggled and sprinted through the streets of Japan, ducking down alleyways to escape from managers for just enough time to get some relief by grinding together against stone walls, tongues dancing in a frenzy of first love.
At music shows, pulling one another into janitors’ closets and private washrooms — any windowless room with a lock, no matter how small — and putting skin to skin however they had time to before leaving, one always before the other, as discreetly as possible.
They were so young, so bold, so impulsive in their feelings. And, despite every attempt by WakeOne to keep them under control, they felt so incredibly free. It was a different time, one full of a type of newness and uncertainty that was exciting, untethered. Nothing like the war-like trauma they harbor deep in their bones, now.
But despite it all, every searing attempt by homophobic capitalists at tearing them apart, they do still have each other. Perhaps time together is a pain to come by right now, but there's always a sliver of light to cut through the darkness. And at the moment, Hanbin is on a dire mission to magnify it, and to bathe his sleepy soulmate in that very light.
It’s comfortably quiet for the rest of the drive, Hao probably too exhausted to pry further, and Hanbin lost in his own memories, streetlights flickering as he passes each one on the drive deep into the city, to a place neither of them has been before. At least he hopes Zhang Hao hasn't.
When he turns down a dark alley, Hao squeezes his hand, likely a little apprehensive at their surroundings. It isn't a glamorous area; scantily-dressed men and women stand at each corner hollering at passing cars, tents set up as makeshift homes for people down on their luck. Hanbin squeezes back and smiles, but it’s a little sad. He wishes so deeply he could be taking Hao somewhere he deserves: a beach cottage in Jeju, a resort in Thailand with an ocean view. A hotel in Paris overlooking the Seine like the one they'd once shared, their little slice of heaven.
But for now, this concrete high rise will have to substitute as their paradise.
Hanbin's SUV approaches a parking garage with what appears to be a valet standing out front. Hao gasps and, in a panic, rifles through his bag for a mask and hat and begins to pull them on, but Hanbin stops him with a gentle hand around his wrist before he finishes the task. “It’s okay, Hao,” he assures, “just trust me.” They won't need them where they're going.
“Okay…?” If Hao was perplexed before, now he looks downright dumbfounded. He places them in his lap with hesitation. To be recognized is to be doomed. In Hao's eyes, it’s likely a dangerous game Hanbin is playing, showing their faces to this stranger. But what he doesn’t know is that this particular stranger keeps secrets for a living.
Rolling down the driver’s side window upon reaching the man properly dressed in a suit and tie, a stark juxtaposition to his shoddy surroundings, Hanbin clears his throat and speaks first. “Heaven for two, please.” A friend and co-emcee had told him exactly what to say if he found himself in this situation. “No extras.”
“Two.” The man nods and holds out his hand for payment, as expected.
Hanbin’s glad he just pulled out a handsome sum of money from the bank earlier that day. Maybe he’d subconsciously done it. Maybe it was just meant to happen on this night in particular. From the wallet in his pocket, he pulls out two million won as if it’s some small fee and places it in the man’s grasp. Hanbin can feel Hao’s curious eyes burning holes in the back of his head all the while.
The old man counts out the bills and seems satisfied enough — doesn’t ask a single question despite certainly recognizing who they are after visually scanning their faces — and waves the vehicle through the opening gate. Hanbin flashes him a grin, relieved that he seemed to have handled things the proper way.
After several more quiet minutes, Hao probably stunned into silence by the mystery of whatever the hell “heaven for two” alludes to in this eerie, movie-like place his boyfriend is leading him into, Hanbin parks the car in a spot by the entrance of what looks like the plainest elevator on earth. Everything is just… concrete and metal. That’s it. Strangely unassuming, which makes it all the more disconcerting.
“So. Are you going to tell me what’s happening? Where you're possibly taking me at four in the fucking morning? And for two million won, at that?!”
Hanbin hasn’t seen Hao this animated in a while. Something about the comfort of hearing him nag is making him fall in love all over again. “You’ll see. Come on.” He squeezes Hao’s hand one more time and plants a peck on his cheek without a second thought before jumping out to open the passenger side door. Hao still has doubt written all over his face, but there’s a hint of a smile in there as well. He takes a mental picture of it. Even if Hao doesn’t like the surprise, at least he'll have that smile to hold onto for a while.
Hanbin holds Hao’s hand in the elevator. He even sneaks a peck on the mouth, which about sends Hao into a fit of anxiety. But Hanbin soothes him with a grin and a hug, knowing without doubt that there isn't a single camera in sight. Even if they didn't proceed any further, it would be worth every penny of the fee just to get that taste of nostalgia for their very first kiss in the Boys Planet dormitory elevator over three years ago, back when everything felt so easy. They'd never gotten to do anything like that again, until now.
The elevator opens on the lobby floor, and Hanbin only watches on as Hao takes in the place they’ve arrived at with shimmering splendor in his eyes.
Surrounding them is a hotel lobby more grand than any either of them has ever seen before. Above them hangs a massive chandelier, below them the floors made of an expensive marble, and all furniture and linens composed from mahogany and a deep, luxe shade of red velvet. The place encapsulates all the classic beauty of old Hollywood movies that Hanbin’s parents had watched when he was just a child, learning basic English from the subtitles.
“Wow,” Hao whispers.
Hanbin is just as stunned, mouth agape as his fingers rub against the leaves of a blue rose arrangement near the front desk. Oh, right. Suddenly remembering why he's brought his boyfriend into this grandiose environment, Hanbin taps the small golden bell placed on the desk, and it rings. The sound startles Hao slightly, who jumps in place. They chuckle nervously under their breaths until a door behind the desk opens, and out from it emerges a woman who looks all-business: hair clipped into an intricate updo, a tailored suit from a luxury brand hugging her curves, pretty pearl jewelry adorning her neck and ears, and deep red lipstick to match the decor painting her courteous smile. Hao half hides his body behind Hanbin’s while still clutching onto his hand. It just doesn’t feel normal for them to be seen by this lady together, much less at this time of night under such… interesting circumstances.
“Sung Hanbin, Zhang Hao, heaven for two. Here’s your key.” She holds out a brass key that looks like something from the 1920's. It goes with the vibe of the place, though — he’s more shocked by the fact that she somehow knows their names. “Please return it at exactly six-thirty in the morning, not a minute after or you will be subject to a convenience fee. We practice full discretion here, and that is legally binding. If anyone approaches who knows of your identity, they will be taken care of by our staff promptly. I assume you’ve been made aware of what that entails by your reference.”
Hanbin hasn’t a clue what that means, no. His co-emcee didn’t mention much except what this place was, how to get in, and that it was completely secret. But he assumes it’s better not to ask. So, Hanbin simply nods. He can feel Hao’s palm slick with sweat against his. This chilling woman has done nothing to calm Hao’s nerves, that’s for certain.
“Great. You’ll be in floor six, room eighteen. Please enjoy your stay.” She gestures toward another elevator at the right side of the room, turns around on her heels and disappears back behind the door as quickly as she’d appeared.
With only two hours until their check-out time, Hanbin is eager to make a run for it. So, he practically skips to the elevator, tugging a frozen Hao and their respective shoulder bags along. When they enter, he immediately observes that the elevator is catered to high society folks, nothing like the unassuming one they’d rode up in from the garage, with mirrored walls and gold buttons. Hanbin taps the fourteen carat circle labeled with a six, and they’re off.
“A secret love hotel?” Hao finally concludes, turning to face Hanbin. “I mean, I’ve heard of these things, but never imagined them being so…”
“Fancy?” Hanbin laughs and, just because he can, kisses Hao again. This time, Hao kisses him back. It sets his soul ablaze.
“Something like that,” Hao tilts his head back and quotes his boyfriend’s vague response from earlier, turning all love drunk and giggly with just one public kiss.
Hanbin is so intoxicated too on the thrill, the sheer idea of having a place for just the two of them. He wants to make one thing very clear: “I don’t care what we do. I just want to be alone with you. Actually totally alone with you. Even just for a couple hours.”
Hao’s cheeks raise into little round circles. “That really does sound like heaven.” The elevator dings to signal they’ve arrived at their floor, so after a small peck on the lips, they make their way down the hallway ahead.
The halls have the same sort of decor as the lobby, shoes squeaking slightly on the marble tiles as they pass under smaller golden chandeliers. The whole floor is either totally vacant or one-hundred percent soundproof, as there’s no noise to be heard save for the aircon overhead. Not much time passes before they reach room eighteen, and Hanbin turns the old school key into the brass knob and opens it with ease. Hao pats him on his rear with an approving hum and they scurry in, Hanbin immediately locking and deadbolt-ing the door shut behind them.
And now, they’re finally alone.
“It’s gorgeous,” Hao whispers, totally in awe.
Hanbin didn’t know what he was expecting. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had any expectations whatsoever. But if he did, he is certain this suite would’ve exceeded them, and more. A large chandelier above the bed. Fresh bouquets of dozens of blue roses everywhere, blooming across every single surface. Red petals scattered all across a blue velvet california king bed- actually, maybe bigger than a king, if that's even possible. A roomy jacuzzi tub across from the bed, champagne bottles chilling in ice on its ledge. The whole back wall is a window looking out to the entirety of Seoul on display, lights from the city more stunning than he ever remembered them being. Actually, upon a closer look, what appears to be a window is actually a two-way mirror so that no one can see inside.
The room is almost too good to be true, as if it were designed just for them. It’s perfect.
“I love you,” Hanbin blurts out, staring out at the skyline. He’s almost certain he meant to say he loves it, as in, the room. But on second thought, no. That is what he means.
Two arms wrap around his middle, and a familiar, comforting weight settles onto his shoulder, warm body pressing against his. “Wo ai ni. More than you know.” Hao breathes into Hanbin’s ear, swaying side to side, leaning his weight against him. The ends of his still-damp hair tickle Hanbin’s rapidly flushing cheek, and the scent of a coconut perfume they once shared floods his senses. In contrast to their luxe environment, he remembers they’re both wearing comfy clothes; this is obvious when he feels Hao growing erect through his sweatpants against his backside.
Hanbin looks sideways at Hao, the corners of his mouth raising. Neither of them had much of a libido anymore. It had been… wow… a good month before the Zerobaseone contract extension since they’d last touched like that. It’s not exactly easy to get hot and heavy in a car, and much less with the looming fear of being caught. The overwhelming possibility of your entire image and career being shattered in the blink of an eye really takes the fun out of that sort of thing. Even booking the hotel room, Hanbin hadn't actually expected anything heated between them to take place.
But if Hao was feeling up to it, then of course, so was Hanbin. He was a simple creature, so down bad for the man that even just the idea of Hao being turned on immediately makes Hanbin hard, pressed against the glass in front of them. So hard that it hurts.
Right then and there, his instinct is to strip Zhang Hao down and get his knees bent on the bed. However, his heart is at odds with this and wants nothing more than to take his time, tending to Hao as much as he can first. So, he follows that instead. Turning around all the way in Hao’s grasp, they face each other and their lower halves rub together. Both rut into the sensation at once, experiencing wanting so powerful that they can hardly stand it.
It had been months. They needed this. Hao told Hanbin that he needed him, in the car. Please, he said. Was this what he meant, after all? Hanbin decides not to make his boyfriend wait any longer to quench his thirst.
Their lips meet passionately, Hao’s arms quickly moving from Hanbin’s waist to his neck, and Hanbin gets to work tugging off their shirts one at a time before also untying and pulling down both pants and trunks in one move. He strips them quickly while still fervently kissing, panting when their faces must separate. Hao pouts and whines the second they do, which is just like him. It makes Hanbin even more set on what he’s about to do.
Dropping to the floor, still directly in front of the view of the entire city, Hanbin kneels at Hao’s feet in worship. He kisses up his soft, tan legs as Hao hums, running his fingers through Hanbin’s hair and grabbing it, scraping his scalp a little with his fingernails whenever Hanbin's teeth gnaw at his inner thigh. Hanbin can feel his gaze up at Hao turning dark as their love takes form in a different way than it has in a long time. A way that, if anyone saw them like this, the two's reputations would be absolutely, positively ruined.
He wants to make Zhang Hao remember what it feels like to be touched, make him forget anything and everything else, just for a while.
Hanbin sticks two of his own fingers into his mouth, sucking them while maintaining direct, steady eye contact with his boyfriend above. Hao grabs his hair harder, rougher than he usually does, muttering some incomprehensibly strung-together words under his breath, and Hanbin groans on his own fingers, because he always found it too fucking hot when Hao would speak Mandarin in the bedroom. He even chokes himself with his own digits because the pain makes it all the more delicious.
These are the parts of themselves they’ve had to hide away, stow under the bed for safe keeping while they were gone, trying to survive life as their idol personas. Now they’re finally here, letting their realest, deepest inner selves loose again, and Hanbin is certain there’s nothing on earth or beyond more satisfying than that.
Hanbin pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a purposeful pop and pushes them quickly past Hao’s plump cheeks. At once, he takes all of Hao into his mouth, the tip of his cock pressing against his throat as he massages his wet fingers at Hao’s entrance. Hao exhales a shaky moan, dick twitching against Hanbin's soft palate as he starts to bob his head to the same rhythm as his fingers working.
Doing all of this at once, he knows Hao isn’t going to last long. And that’s exactly what he wants: to help him let himself go. They’ve only got two hours, after all. And he’s already fantasizing about making use of the jacuzzi together after, so this can’t really be a marathon. But what they need is to be skin against skin with each other, immediately. He knows Hao needs it. And by God and all that is holy, so does he.
Only the very tips of his fingers slip inside, and Hao lets the same breathy moans escape that Hanbin hears only in his sweetest dreams anymore, a siren song pulling him into temptation. He follows it and bobs his head faster, tongue tantalizing the underneath of his lover's shaft, teasing along each vein he knows by heart. He doesn't finger Hao open any more as he hasn't been properly lubricated yet, so he just touches lightly. A tiny appetizer to the main course.
"Ah, I love you Bin-ah, but I don't wanna-"
Hao's murmurs get interrupted by Hanbin at his feet, removing his lips from his lower half to speak. "Come for me, gege," Hanbin requests sorely before diving back in, his throat pleasantly aching more with each gag on Hao's length. His free hand works the base of it as his tongue lays flat beneath Hao's tan tip, dying to taste his cum. He had yearned for this, dreamed about it every lonely night for what felt like a small lifetime now. He needed to taste Zhang Hao in this moment like he needed it to feel real, like Hao's pleasure was all that made life worth living.
"Fuck, I miss you," Hao whines, and Hanbin gets his wish. His cock jerks on the tip of Hanbin's tongue and fills his mouth with his cum, dripping wet and sweet, all for him. Hanbin smiles up at his lover and swallows him down, to the last drop. It's not enough to fill the insatiable need inside, but the night is still young.
Well, okay, they only have maybe an hour and a half left. But that's good enough for Hanbin. He can make an hour and a half work.
Hanbin removes his fingertips from between Hao's cheeks and sighs dreamily up at him.
Hao stares him down with his bedroom eyes as he catches his breath, looking spent. "Thank you, honey." He kneels down at Hanbin's eye level and places his hands onto his blushy, warm cheeks, climbing on top of him to straddle his lap, pinning his back against the vast window. "My other half."
Even with all their time spent apart, Zhang Hao is Hanbin's whole world, and Hanbin's certain it shows all over his stupid, awestruck face. Maybe so, because Hao dives right in toward Hanbin's lips in that same moment, and Hanbin can't help but push his hair back for him just to keep it out of his face. Even at a time like this, naked and turned-on and severely untouched, he's thinking of Hao's comfort. And it strikes him that Hao is doing the same for him when he adjusts his legs in a way to prevent Hanbin's from falling asleep mid-kiss.
It's a hot, weighted kiss, slow and steady but just as impassioned as the first they'd ever shared. A succinct metaphor for their relationship: one long, neverending story of devotion, as strong yesterday as it was three years prior.
Hanbin's hips move on their own, pushing up into Hao's plump peach, the tent between his legs hungry for any kind of friction. Their tongues lose control, shoving down each other's throats, and the tension has never been thicker between them. On the second thrust up, Hanbin's cock catches on Hao's inner ass cheek, and the proximity makes them both breathe out muffled groans, stifled by their intense makeout. Hanbin can't take another second of this gorgeous torture.
Placing one arm around his lover's middle and the other beneath his bottom, Hanbin uses every bit of his strength to stand up, maintaining Hao's position wrapped around him like a panda. It's such a turn-on for Hao to be carried that Hanbin feels him grow erect once more against his stomach as he maneuvers him to the bed.
Separating their mouths to lay him down on the bed of roses and blue velvet, Hanbin stands above him at the foot of the bed for a beat, studying Hao with the keen eye of someone who never wants to forget the moment at hand. Every mole on his face, each wet strand of hair. His ribs where they protrude too much for Hanbin not to notice, a result of the strict diet he must follow. The indents of his abdomen that lead down to a wiry patch of hair matching his dark eyebrows. His cock, fully mast, cut and veined with the nicest tan tip. Lanky, slender legs recently shaven for a photo shoot, bent with his dainty feet planted on the bed. And of course, his puckered entrance, always trimmed, inviting and tight as ever — too tight of a squeeze to even accommodate Hanbin's size.
This briefly brings him back to their first time, during the Boys Planet break, in his own bedroom: Hanbin, anxiously squirting more and more lube into his palm, so worried that he might hurt his newfound crush beyond repair and inadvertently force him to drop out of the competition due to some embarrassing surgery to fix the damage sustained. Hao, begging him to just put it in already and eventually taking the reins to insert the tip himself with his own hand. Hanbin never forgot that unique look in Hao's eyes when he entered him, a distant, lustful smolder, nothing like any of the fake sexy expressions he'd made during performances. Reality surpassed fiction tenfold, and Hanbin only got a handful of pumps in before completely losing his cool and coming inside him; or rather, inside the condom he'd insisted on using back then (despite Hao's own protests).
It wasn't his fault; Hanbin had no idea they were both virgins at the time, as they didn't admit it to one another until a late night date in the dorm laundry room a few weeks later. He'd assumed someone who looked like Hao would've been sleeping his way around his whole college campus, but nope. Still very much virginal. Oh well. He wouldn't go back and change a single thing about it now, even if he could. Their sex only got better and better as they learned together in practice over the years.
"What are you thinking about?" Hao wonders, easing Hanbin's mind back to the present. He has the very same look in his eyes now as he did then. Hanbin places his palms on his boyfriend's spread knees and bends down to kiss the inside of his leg.
"Us. You," he states plainly, running fingers up the peach fuzz on his thighs. Hao smiles fondly at the answer, able to read between the lines, and Hanbin takes the opportunity to dig into his bag where he plopped it strategically by the bed on their way in, retrieving a packet of lubricant from the inside pocket.
Tearing it open with his teeth ("leave it to Sung Hanbin to have lube on-hand at any given moment," he can imagine Hao saying if he were in a less vulnerable state), Hanbin slicks his pointer and index finger to the best of his ability and tosses the package aside, lining his fingers up to finish the job they'd only started, thus far.
But then, out of the blue, comes a pathetic little whimper.
Hanbin's eyes grow wide. "Hao?" He tilts his head to get a look at his boyfriend, but his face falls when he finds him crying. Lying there on the made bed, the prettiest sight amongst the rose petals, is Zhang Hao with tear streaks marring his otherwise flawless face, tip of his nose rouge. Frowning, he pokes his bottom lip out. Hanbin's mouth goes agape.
"Oh, Hao…" Hanbin instantly forgets about his mission, moving his body up the bed to hover over his suddenly sorrowful lover, wiping tears away with his un-lubricated hand. "What's the matter? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" Hanbin panics. He really thought Hao had been enthusiastic about what they were about to do. Maybe he got it wrong.
Hao sniffles. He seems to hesitate to say what he feels. "Do- Do you still think I'm…attractive?"
Reflexively, Hanbin blurts out the answer since there's no need to give it any thought. "Huh? Of course I do." He places a kiss on Hao's forehead to console, climbs onto the bed beside him and lies on his back, haphazardly wiping lubricant off his fingers with a tissue from the bedside table. "Why would you even ask that?" He scoots his arm under Hao's neck and Hao accommodates it, his wet face nestled into his chest. They had slept like this most nights while living in the same dorm. It felt as natural then as it does now.
Exhaling a pitiful whimper onto his skin, Hao peers up at Hanbin through his dampened lashes. "I know I look sick. I- I know I'm not healthy, and it shows. In my face, my body. Everywhere. And before, everything was just so convenient for us. But not anymore. And sometimes I wonder…"
Hao breaks. He cries even harder through the babbling, and the sight constricts Hanbin's heart. Without realizing, he also tears up, a frown forming in his creases.
Hao continues. "I wonder if you should be with someone who has more time to spend with you, someone who can give you more than I have right now. You deserve better than expensive, secret hotel sex at four in the morning, Hanbin…" His arm wraps around Hanbin's torso, fingers squeezing his skin and holding him in place, contradicting his own words. "You deserve better than me."
"No." Oh no. No, no, no. He can't even believe what he's hearing. Not once has Hao ever said anything like this. Sure, he needed a little reassurance every once in awhile, who doesn't? But this is a whole other thing — a devastating lack of self-worth.
Hao's new company, his new schedule, his new life has clearly broken him down completely, and Hanbin will not stand for it.
"Zhang Hao. You are the only person on this earth I have eyes for. You know that." He lowers his head and kisses Hao on his crown again, a few involuntary tears falling into his hair. He can fix this. He has to. "You are as handsome now as the day we met. No- ten times more. Twenty times more. Fifty. And just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. That's never changed a bit. If you were to leave me, I mean, I wouldn't be with anyone ever again. I couldn't. God, I don't even know how I could ever live without you, Hao. Honestly, I'd rather be dead…"
Hanbin sighs onto Hao's scalp when he finally stops himself from talking on and on, cracked lips flush against the follicles there. What he said is the truth. "Does that answer your question?" He speaks delicately because Hao is one harsh word away from losing it completely. He knows it because the same is true of himself. "Please believe me."
So much of him is made up of pieces of Hao that it's hard to tell where one's pieces end and the other's begin, most of the time. And lately, he's taken on his boyfriend's suffering as his own. He's not sure if that's a normal thing for couples to do, but it's inevitable for him — Hao's the other half of Hanbin's soul, after all. And right now, that soul is in dire need of mending.
Hao smiles, round cheek pressed against Hanbin's chest as he closes his eyes, sniffling and signaling the end of his tears. "I love you," he whispers.
"Love you most." He knows this fix is only temporary, that a break in self-worth running that deep is not so easy to mend as just telling someone something one time. But whenever Hao breaks, Hanbin will always be there to pick up the pieces, over and over again, as many times as he has to. And that's a promise.
Hanbin isn't sure exactly how it happens, but one moment he's consoling Hao, and the next he opens his eyes to find Hao climbing on top of him. It's quite the shock at first, but who would he be to look a gift horse in the mouth? He's been aching for this for so damn long. It's best he doesn't ask questions now that Hao seems to be in better spirits. He settles into his lap right away, straddling his hips and looking so good doing it that Hanbin has to scoot back against the headboard of the bed to prop himself up in order to chase after his lips.
Their faces collide hastily, mouths meeting and evolving quickly into an intense, red-hot makeout session, tongues tasting and pushing, hands ravenously grasping at every square inch of the other's skin.
Zhang Hao is a force of fiery passion, and Hanbin is but a moth to his flame. He leans over the side table to squeeze lubricant out of the open packet and slathers his fingers in it again before lining them up to Hao's hole.
But Hao grabs his wrist, more forcefully than he's probably ever touched him before. Hanbin's eyes widen.
"No, not that, jagiya," Hao starts stroking himself, tilting his head back as he whines. "Want you inside me."
Whoa. "Mmm… are you sure? You don't want to be stretched out first?" Hanbin sounds apprehensive, and he thinks he is too, but his rapidly growing dick is saying otherwise. This is a total first, Hao seeming so impulsive and frantic.
He nods, giving Hanbin sweet innocent puppy dog eyes in stark juxtaposition to the way he's touching himself. It's making Hanbin feel crazy. He thinks Hao knows what he's doing to him, too, as his ass only lightly brushes up against the base of his now erect length.
Hanbin wants control over Hao. He doesn't know why, just knows it's what he's craving. So he holds Hao by his waist and flips them over, bending Hao's knees as he retrieves a generous amount of lube, enough to cover his entire pinkish shaft. He talks himself down internally, promising he's going to be very gentle and careful, just as he always has been when it comes to sex. Though that's less of a choice on his part than it is a necessity.
"Are you ready?" Hanbin asks as he places his tip at Hao's entrance, rubbing it on the puckered skin there to transfer some lubricant hoping it helps with the pain.
"Please," Hao begs. There's a thick desperation dripping from his gaze that implores Hanbin to hurry. It's the most desperate that he's ever seen his boyfriend, by far.
So despite his hesitation, Hanbin goes ahead with it. He inserts only a tiny bit at a time though, wincing at each small increment. Hao hums, but a quiet neediness still tinges the edge of his voice.
Once he gets about a hands' length into Hao's core, the muscles lining its walls squeezing him in snugly, he makes the judgment call not to go much further in, exactly how he'd done every time that came before.
To his surprise, Hao's desperation reaches new heights the likes of which are foreign to him. He looks like he's about to cry again as he begs, "No, Bin-ah. I need more. Right now. Please. Please. I need all of you."
So, here's the thing: there was, historically, always an issue when it came to Hanbin's anatomy and penetrative sex. A big one, so to speak. And this issue required an ample amount of time opening Hao up, adding fingers one by one and praying it's enough. Or, if Hao was feeling brave one day, using a toy to stretch slightly deeper than fingers could, allowing Hanbin more room inside. But even still, it was never enough for all of him. So they hadn't even done the deed without thorough prep work first, much less had he buried himself fully into Hao.
Hanbin panics. He needs to collect himself. He takes a ragged breath.
"It's too tight… wouldn't it… hurt?"
"I need it," Hao pleas low, entirely vulnerable.
"It's too much, gege. I'm sorry. I can't."
He assumes Hao's going to show off his signature playful pout and give in to his persistence, leaning back to let him continue. But he doesn't.
"I thought you didn't want anybody else. Don't you want me?"
It feels like time stops. How does he answer that? Hanbin wishes he would soften so they could talk this out, figure out why Hao would say something so upsetting so he can soothe his heart. However, nothing of the sort happens. Instead, Hanbin's body ignores all those emotions altogether, dick hardening more inside and even twitching up against Hao's prostate, making him whine.
Why did Hanbin seem to like that so much? He tries to shake off the pleasure and focus back on Hao, only slightly suffering due to restraint.
"You're all I want, Hao. Which is why I don't want to hurt you." There.
It seemed like a health risk. Would it even feel good? He shouldn't…
…then again, wouldn't it be nice to let himself lose control, for once? He's spent their entire relationship holding back, not giving Hao all he has to give. He wants nothing more than to make his boyfriend feel better. So if he is begging for it, shouldn't Hanbin give it to him?
That's when Hao locks him into a fatal stare and offers himself up like a sin: "Claim me. Prove I'm yours. I want your hurt."
Fuck.
Hanbin's face darkens. He can't hold back anymore. And not only that, but he doesn't think he wants to.
For the first time, Hanbin lets go. Yes, because Hao needs it. But again, by God, so does he.
Before he knows it, he's pushing his cock in deeper and deeper, inch by inch. He doesn't even try to take his time, just diving all in at once.
Hao's pupils dilate. His eyebrows raise. Shock rattles his features, plush bottom lip falling to hang limp from his mouth. No more words are uttered; just one sustained, high-pitched moan, breathy and melodic. Music to Hanbin's ears.
Within a minute, he bottoms out. A bead of sweat trickles from his hairline. To fill Hao feels divine, like finally indulging in a forbidden fruit only ever dreamed of, plucked straight from the vine for his indulgent consumption. Hanbin doesn't know how he'll ever leave this moment. He thought it would feel wrong, evil. But no. Absolutely nothing has ever felt so meant for him and him only.
Hao shuts his eyes and begins breathing deeply, clutching onto Hanbin's back and scraping it with his star-studded nails. Shit. Is he in that much pain? Hanbin lowers his upper body down to press his forehead to Hao's, hoping for a sign he's okay. Hao whines again. Oh no. Is it that… bad…?
"Gege?"
"I'm-" Hao's eyes shut even tighter. "I'm gonna… oh my god." He whimpers. "Please, Bin. Fuck me."
Huh? Hanbin's brain buffers. He's gonna what?
Oh.
…oh.
Hanbin's base instinct completely takes over. Usually one to overthink every movement he makes, this is nothing like how he usually makes love to Hao; tender, controlled, mindful. None of it. He becomes a man possessed, his hips pulling back for barely a millisecond before jutting forward again, shoving his cock so far into his beloved boyfriend he could swear it's pushing his bellybutton out with each thrust. He feels almost sick, feverish for Hao's body. He can't get enough. Grabbing a fistful of Hao's hair, he pulls it and keeps fucking into him with fury.
He had no idea this is what Hao wanted. He had no idea this is what he wanted, either. Their sex life was already great before the split; spectacular, even. But these brand new desires were suddenly making his head spin. He felt these urges to ruin Hao, to make everyone know he was all his. Intoxicate him with so much lust that he would be hungry for more of him and feel sick without Hanbin buried inside his guts every second of every miserable day spent apart. He longed to mark up Hao's skin with his nails, his teeth. Anything that would give the hint to all those other men backstage at music shows that says, "Property of Sung Hanbin." Anything to remind Hao of just how deeply he aches for his touch when he stares into the dressing room mirrors.
This isn't something possible in their profession, of course, but that isn't the point. The point is, this separation had been driving Hanbin to the brink of madness, sure, but he hadn't realized it was to this extent. Now he truly understands why Hao had said so many of the uncharacteristic things he had throughout the night. They need eachother, and it's more than just about being there for one another mentally. It's a physical, carnal desire. Animal, almost. To love. To claim. To take over. To become one.
Now, he gets it. Things have to change. They need to figure something out to tame these desires. But right now, first, he has a job to fulfill.
Hanbin searches Hao's eyes. They're barely open, gaze smoldering with so much tension he can't take it, shooting fire into him as he breathes out pretty little noises. His pace picks up of its own accord, cock practically splitting Hao in half. Sweat is dropping off of his face and onto the pillows below them at an increasing rate, and Hao starts tightening around him, making it harder and harder for him to thrust inside even with the help of lube.
His primal urge scans Hao for something to latch onto that will mark him without being obvious. His eyes settle on the birthmark just above the older's collarbone. Aha! He buries his face into coconut-scented skin and bites down on it, hard. Delicious. At the same time, still holding onto a fistful of hair, he pushes as deep as he can into Hao and starts pistoning even impossibly deeper with short, staccato movements. Everything at once makes Hao yell, a flawless cocktail of pleasure and pain. And now, here comes the cherry on top…
Hao trembles from head to toe, his slender upper body bowing in the air, ribs flaring out, Hanbin's hand pressed between the headboard and Hao's head inadvertently protecting it. For good measure, he uses his free arm to hold Hao's legs down with some force, tops of his thighs pushed down flat with his feet in the air so he can maneuver his cock as far up into Hao as humanly possible. The position is like something out of a rough porno film, and as it turns out, Hanbin loves it. He goddamn motherfucking loves it.
The yells reverberating off the walls of the soundproof room turn into sobs as Hao comes without any assistance from either of their hands, white spurting up his stomach and into the dip in his chest as Hanbin keeps pumping into him, determined to let Hao's orgasm ride out to the fullest before he himself comes. Though, he only gets a handful more thrusts in before his hips are stuttering, and his own high hits like an addictive drug he can't resist.
"Zhang Hao, gege, mine, mine, mine…" He repeats over and over, not even registering whatever he's saying as he's so deep in the throes of lust and passion, latching onto Hao's lobe with his incisors like a hound dog in heat. He spills all he has to give, filling Hao with his cum while groaning hot on the shell of his ear.
Hanbin never wants Hao to stop feeling good, so he removes his arm from the backs of his legs to overstimulate his cock while thrusting through the after-shocks of his orgasm, grasping it roughly where it lies half-hard between them on his lower belly. Hao reciprocates with airy shrieks and shallow breaths. "Don't stop," he demands. Even as Hanbin softens some, his length still fills Hao's hole nicely, wet warmth pulsing all around it. He purposely juts his hips upward to hit his p-spot and it goes just according to plan: Hao's insides constrict him again as his dick flutters in his hand, squirting the last residual bit of cum he had left. Looking down at him, the poor angel is obviously totally devoid of energy, resting his eyes as he winces and murmurs tiny sounds of pleasure.
Hanbin realizes he's not in a much better state, considering the physical efforts he'd just exerted. So he collapses on top of his boyfriend, chests heaving together in unison to catch their breaths.
Three times. Three times he brought Hao to the height of ecstasy within just an hour. And the sad thing is, Hanbin is so hungry for every last bit of him, so ravenous, that all he'd need is a brief bathroom break to likely keep going for another hour or more if it weren't for their looming time restraint. If Hao's body could stand it, he'd go for four, then five, then an impossible six. He'd lock them in there, ghost their companies, and forget all their dire responsibilities, all in the name of fucking Zhang Hao so good that he wouldn't ever leave.
Okay, so it's becoming clear to Hanbin the more his mind wanders that he is, for lack of a better term, unwell. There needs to be some solution to their new not-so-normal that will afford them more alone time together, and he needs to come up with one fast, before he does something on sex-crazed impulse that gets them blacklisted in the industry forever.
Once their breaths finally seem to stabilize, Hanbin lifts his head from Hao's shoulder to assess the state of him. He's almost scared he might have fucked him within an inch of his life, so he expects the worst. But quite the contrary: Hao is absolutely shining, actually appearing significantly more lively and human than he had earlier. Glowy skin, tinted cheeks, smiling eyes. Red lips, full and plump from biting them to offset any pain. Hair tousled in a wind-swept way. He grins, and Hanbin is smitten, so he smiles back too.
"You're the most pretty person I've ever seen, seriously," Hanbin admits bashfully, his cheeks and ears burning with the white hot intensity of one thousand suns. The irony of how he can literally have his softened penis inside Hao yet made shy just by paying him a compliment is not lost on him.
Instead of with words, Hao thanks Hanbin with a kiss, head tilting and palms finding their way to his heated cheeks to guide him in. Their tongues touch, moving together as one unit. If this were a dance, it would be a waltz — slow, rhythmic movements, equal contribution, two bodies merging.
Zhang Hao still tastes like he always has, a little minty, a little like the honey tea he sips to soothe his throat, saccharine sweet on Hanbin's tastebuds. The heady musk of his coconut fragrance mixed with sex overpowers his senses, leading him toward salvation, like a pastor preaching the gospel to the pews. Hanbin's filthy, sinning self feels purified, made holy by Hao's mere presence beneath him and around him. Even his insides are made of mercy.
Whilst lost in his own head, and in the all-consuming glory of his lover, Hanbin somehow reaches clarity.
When he stops the kiss short, Hao isn't pleased. He's just as full of relentless wanting as Hanbin is, and it shows on his furrowed brow. "What?" He rasps, hoarse from the volume of his moans.
Wasting none of their rapidly dwindling time with a lengthy preamble, Hanbin jumps to the point. "There's an apartment space for rent in my company's building," he says, un-sticking pieces of Hao's bangs from his forehead and tenderly brushing them back. "You can access it from the private entrance. The previous tenants just left, and I'm going to buy it."
Though he had previously softened, Hao's body wiggles beneath him in a sort of plea for friction, making him effectively grow half-hard again. He lazily propels his cock deeper into his core, making Hao mewl. Is he even listening to what Hanbin's saying, or just praying to get fucked again?
"Hao, I…" He can't help but do it once more, pulling a tiny gasp from Hao's mouth as he begins to look drunk off lust again. He keeps talking anyway through the low effort thrusts. "I need you around. Live with me…" He sucks lightly on the most prominent vein in Hao's neck, stimulating the spot while careful not to go too far. "Move in with me and be mine, just like this. Always." He breathes heavily on the wet skin while picking up the tempo.
They're basically going at it again, but this time, there are no expectations or needs to fulfill involved. Just connection and mutual worship, making them each savor the touch, prolonging the bliss as much as time will allow.
Hanbin almost loses sight of his own question entirely until Hao's throat vibrates beneath his lips with an answer. "Okay. I will..."
The last word is more moan than cohesive response, but Hanbin will accept it. If he has to bribe his boyfriend to live with him by showing him exactly what's in store for him every day for the rest of his life, then so be it. He didn't even have to explain the rest of his plan, like how Hao could easily snake his way out of the dorm, how he could feign living alone at his own place, or how he could get away with it all under the guise of working with one of the producers for the company, a friend of Hanbin's who would be willing to keep up a lie or two for his sake. None of those details mattered, for now. Hao just trusted him, and that was enough. They'd sort out the rest later.
Hanbin has not felt this hopeful in a long time. As it turns out, there is a way to ease their suffering, in the end. It all fits together like fate. Ever since their debut, even through their most difficult trials and headaches, the world would usually move in their favor to patch their wounds eventually. That's why Hanbin knew their love could overcome anything, if he just had enough faith (alright, perhaps also a touch of post-nut clarity).
After several more minutes of riding out the early morning's high, Hao signals to Hanbin that he's grown tired, so the younger takes the cue to finish inside him one last time. Hao seems to enjoy it thoroughly despite his body giving in, especially when Hanbin finally pulls out to suck all the juice out like poison from a snake bite, leaving his angel cleaned of his sin once more. Though, Hao does kiss Hanbin extra hard just to taste some of it, too. Even angels have their vices, after all.
After a somewhat brief but well-deserved soak in the tub, Hanbin uses the hotel's dryer to blow Hao's hair dry, gently running his fingers over the same scalp he'd been a little rough on earlier. He gives it a small kiss after as an apology. Being able to perform simple tasks like this for Hao like he did when they lived in the WakeOne dorm brings a sentimental tear to his eye. He misses even the most trivial of things: plucking each other's eyebrows, assisting with shaving before a photo shoot, picking out outfits together.
Soon, these little moments will become a part of their lives again. Certainly not as frequently, since they'll only ever both be at their shared apartment when they aren't trying to survive hectic idol schedules at their separate, feuding companies. But even if nothing else, the nights would belong to them. And maybe that can be enough, for now. Until the day marriage is made legal in Korea and their careers have ultimately died down, then this is the best it'll get. Maybe, just maybe, the secret world they'll share will still satisfy their hearts.
Hanbin reluctantly drives Hao back to the Yuehua dorms when their two hours is up, and not a minute sooner. They hurry a goodbye along so as to remain unseen before the sun comes up, but for once, it's more like a "see you later." Hao's toothy smile and mandarin-shaped cheekbones as he sprints into the building with a wave of his hand convey every last word he didn't have time to say.
Instead of sleeping, Hanbin heads straight from there to his company's building and fills out an application for the apartment. It's only a formality, as the owner has already assured him that it's his if he wants it. When he goes back to look at the place later that day, the first thing he does is leave one of Hao's jackets he'd borrowed on the kitchen counter along with his own. Just a small reminder that it belongs to them. The space was theirs, and theirs alone. No one could destroy their happy place this time, and Hanbin vows to himself that if Yuehua or WakeOne even dared to threaten as much, he wouldn't stand for it for one second. Even if he had to leave idol life behind completely, it would be worth every opportunity lost. Home is wherever Zhang Hao is, and that fact will never change.
So Hao will spend his next day off moving in all his belongings that matter, and they'll pick out hard-to-assemble furniture online, and he'll even let his boyfriend paint the walls whatever colors he fancies. Their first night overnight at the new place together, they'll order Chinese takeout and eat it on the floor, barely watching some shitty reality show on Hanbin's opened laptop while they vent about how their days went at each of their respective workplaces. It won't be anything glamorous, not at first, but it'll be theirs. When they huddle close to share a tiny air mattress on the floor that night, Hanbin won't sleep, as he'll be too preoccupied with watching each breath Hao takes, and wondering how he ever lived without his presence right there next to him.
As long as they're together, the rest isn't important.
Even if the world doesn't get to see it, Hao will be Hanbin's to keep happy, safe, and healthy, from now on and forever more. And what other ending could possibly be better than that?