Archive of Our Own

The first time Hao sees Hanbin, the heat in the air is sweltering, bordering on unbearable. There’s sweat gathering at Hao’s nape, clinging to his skin, and making everything sticky.

Summers in Seoul aren’t for the weak. They’re humid and heavy and unrelenting in the way they dig through your skin, right into your bones — in the way they warm you from the inside. Hao learned this early on. It was one of the first things he noticed about the metropolis. He moved here during the month of June, a few years ago, and it was a hot summer then.

It’s an even hotter summer now.

Hanbin is a little like summer. Like the summer in Seoul. He makes Hao heat up upon the first sight of him, makes his stomach clench and his palms wet. He makes Hao’s skin flush without intending to. It’s just his nature. He will come to make Hao lightheaded and dizzy, later on.

The first time Hao sees him, Hanbin looks like he’s been kissed by the sun, skin vibrant and damp. Glowing, almost. It’s lucky, really, that summer happens to be the season dearest to Hao.

Hao’s AC is broken. It’s the first week of his semester break and he had planned to spend it on doing absolutely nothing productive, a reward for passing his final exam. All he had wanted was to watch his favorite shows, read his favorite books and call his favorite people, most of them back home, in China.

But, alas, he has had to deal with the death of his AC. No way he’s voluntarily suffering through a day more than necessary in the stifling air of his apartment, his tiny electric fan doing little to fight off the heat. Itching to enjoy his time off, Hao was unusually quick to contact his landlady. Thankfully, she was very helpful.

She’s sweet, his landlady. A nice old woman that never fails to dote on Hao whenever he passes her in the building, praising his good looks and his choice to study in a foreign country. In her eyes, Hao is an extremely studious and hard-working young man and Hao loves it a little too much, always preening under the attention she gives him.

So, when he called her, she was quick to reassure him, promising to send over her most trusted repairmen as soon as possible.

It’s a Thursday morning when Hao’s doorbell finally chimes. Although he longs for his apartment to stop resembling a boiling sauna, he simultaneously loathes the fact that there will be unfamiliar people in his home for an indefinite amount of time, disturbing his peace. Everything has its price, he dramatically tells himself as he opens the door.

There’s two men, decked out in technicians wear, waiting to be let in.

“Zhang Hao-ssi?” The older of the pair inquires.

“Yes.” Hao steps aside to make room for them. “You’re here for the broken AC, right?”

“Exactly!” The man beams at him, the smile lines around his mouth making him appear friendly. “We’ll just have a look for now and come back tomorrow. We need to know what we’re dealing with here.”

“It’s right over there.” Hao points toward the far end of his apartment. It’s a studio, so really, it’s not that far. Another wave of grief hits him — he doesn’t even have a different room to hide in while the two men do their job. Well, he does have a bathroom. Hao quickly discards the thought however, not that desperate.

“Perfect,” the man mumbles, already moving past Hao. “Hanbin, come.”

The younger man, Hanbin, walks in then. He greets Hao, giving a polite bow, and quickly moves through the apartment, carrying a ladder on his arm.

Hao barely gets a good look, yet he can immediately identify him as the older man’s son, faces undeniably similar. But where his father is shorter and rounder, the young man is taller, his features sharper. He’s handsome, Hao thinks casually. At least he’ll have something nice to look at while waiting.

He savors the last whiff of cool air from the stairwell outside his front door and closes it, turning toward the repairmen. They’re already setting up the equipment, the guy climbing up the ladder to get his hands on the AC and his father giving him instructions on what to do. Hao takes that as his cue to tune them out, opting to sit on a chair by the open window of his balcony, grabbing a book and beginning to read. He would sit outside if it weren’t for the scorching sun during this time of day. His pajama shorts and sleep shirt are already clinging to his skin, sizzling against the chair.

He looks up briefly and the guy, the younger one– what was his name again? Hao doesn’t remember. Anyway, the guy is still inspecting the faulty appliance. Hao can tell the heat is getting to him and to his father too, sweat shining on their foreheads. At least the older man is wearing a short sleeve shirt. The younger has an overall on and is clearly struggling with the temperature, dragging a hand across his face every other second.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Hao gets up, wiping his palms on his shorts. He’s surprised by his own hospitality, normally not particularly eager to engage with strangers more than strictly required. But he feels partly responsible for the dire state they’re finding themselves in. “Sorry, I know it’s really hot.”

The father turns toward Hao, cheeks ruddy. “Water would be lovely,” he replies gratefully and is about to say something else when his phone rings. He’s quick to pick up the call and Hao turns to his kitchenette, hurriedly filling two cups with iced water.

When Hao goes to hand one of them to the older man, he hangs up the phone call with a pained expression, looking up at his son. “Yunhee-ssi just told me there’s another broken AC in unit E4,” he grumbles. “I’ll have to go over there right now. Can you handle this one on your own, Hanbin?”

Right, Hanbin was his name. It’s a pretty name.

The guy, Hanbin, peers down once at Hao and then back up at the air conditioner, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. “Yeah dad, it’s fine. Might take a couple days, but I can handle it.”

The father addresses Hao then. “I apologize for the sudden change in plans, Zhang Hao-ssi. Duty calls, but I’m sure my son will be capable enough to fix this thing for you in no time, don’t you worry!” He pats Hao on the arm and leaves promptly, but not before yelling back at Hanbin one last time, “Do well, son!”

“Oh my god.” Hanbin twists toward the wall, away from his father, hiding his face.

Huh.

He’s blushing. Hao can tell by the tips of his ears, swiftly reddening. That’s cute.

“So embarrassing,” Hanbin mumbles and climbs down the ladder, taking one of the cups from Hao with a subtle bow. “He’s making it seem like I’m some novice.” Then, a reassuring smile. “No need to fret, I’m not incompetent or anything like that. I’ll have this done before you know it!”

The second time Hao sees him, Hanbin is prepared for the stifling heat of Hao’s home. It’s the next day and the man is wearing a white tank top, tight around his torso and sleeveless, exposing the length of his arms. His navy blue technician overall only goes up to his hips today, the upper half tied around his waist securely. Hanbin’s bangs are swept away from his forehead too, exposing sharp brows.

Upon opening his front door, Hao is left a little breathless, blood rushing to his face instantly as he lets him in.

Hanbin might be appropriately dressed for the warm weather, but Hao can’t exactly say if Hanbin is appropriately dressed for a repair job, revealing more bare skin than Hao is used to from the few acquaintances he’s so far made in Korea. He thinks he can even see a tattoo peeking out beneath the man’s tank top, something dainty decorating the space right below his collarbones. It’s slightly dizzying but either way, Hao won’t complain, happy to have a handsome man in such close proximity.

Okay, so maybe Hanbin’s a little more than handsome. Big deal. It’s not like Hao has never seen a hot guy before. He tries to will away his flush.

“So, just me today,” Hanbin says good-naturedly as he carries a ladder on one arm and a toolbox on the other, walking toward the very reason he’s here. His biceps are bulging and Hao allows himself to stare while Hanbin sets everything up, back to Hao. “I’m optimistic that today and Monday should give me more than enough time to finish everything up for you.” He twists around briefly, shooting Hao an endearing thumbs-up. Involuntarily, the corners of his mouth twitch. Hanbin turns back, continuing, “Sorry again that you’ll have to go through the weekend in this unbearable heat. I don’t know what’s gotten into the ACs in this building lately.”

“Eh, all good, it’s fine,” Hao mumbles absentmindedly, raking his eyes over Hanbin’s back, feet still rooted by the entrance.

He’s built. It makes sense, doing physical labor for a living and all. Hao has never been particularly gifted at anything fitness related. At most, he will take a walk when he’s been sitting at his desk for too long, limbs aching. He admires Hanbin’s body from the standpoint of someone who wants to improve their own physique, he tells himself. It’s only natural to study the people one looks up to. He will use this time wisely to study Hanbin’s body very closely, alright.

Hanbin starts working on the air conditioner soon enough, Hao relaxing into the clammy cushion of his chair by the balcony, and they fall into silence, completely quiet save for the clinking of Hanbin’s utensils and the sound of Hao flipping the pages of his book. It’s not exactly comfortable but Hao figures it’s better than the extreme unease he had initially been anticipating, making up horror stories in his own head about what the repairmen would be like. He’s a little anxious by nature, so what?

The only real downside to getting his AC fixed is that Hao can’t entirely concentrate on his book, his treasured book that he’s been dying to finish, because his eyes keep flitting up to Hanbin’s form more often than he cares to admit.

The man’s upper arms are large. They aren’t overly defined, but they’re bulky and they glisten with a slight sheen of sweat. Whenever Hanbin reaches up toward the AC, his shoulders form a satisfying bulge and, if Hao focuses hard enough, he can make out the movements of Hanbin’s back muscles under the thin top that snugly clings to his skin. He must be very strong, Hao thinks dumbly.

“You know, you don’t have to stay here,” Hanbin pulls him out of his thoughts. “Trust me, you can leave me alone without worries. Yunhee-ssi would have my head if I did anything to upset one of her precious tenants.” He turns toward Hao, giving him a dazzling smile.

Oh, Hanbin could definitely make it into several toothpaste commercials with a smile like that. Gorgeous, white teeth. It kind of startles Hao. For a second, it’s hard for him to respond.

He shakes his head once. “Oh, that’s nice of you but I don’t mind.”

“But it’s such a nice day out.” Hanbin halts his movements, gaze fixed on Hao, a petulant expression molding his face. He kind of resembles a sulking kitten, eyes big and lips pouty. Is it okay for Hao to think of a repairman as cute? “I wouldn’t want you to stay cooped up in here with me when you don’t have to.”

Well, the truth is: Hao has nowhere else to be. Although he has moved to Korea a couple of years ago already, it’s been hard for him to make connections and find people he truly relates to or cares for. Making friends has never been his forte, ever the aloof introvert who prefers to keep to himself. Sometimes he wonders how he’s managed to make friends during this life at all and feels gratitude wash over his body — for Kuanjui’s accepting nature and Zihao’s easy-going disposition.

He supposes he has been quite alone since he’s left home. However, Hao is nothing if not a master at keeping himself occupied. He makes it a point to not leave any room in his mind to actually feel lonely, always having something to do. And he does call in with China every few days or so. So really, he’s fine.

“Nah, I’m good.” He waves Hanbin off, eager to conclude the topic. “I’m not a big fan of the great outdoors anyways.”

Hanbin takes the hint and nods once. “Alright then.”

They fall back into silence, Hanbin moving up and down the ladder whenever he needs to switch between tools.

Hao’s focus on his book is lost for good. He stares outside for a bit, watching the birds fly to and fro. A breath of cool air hits his heated skin from where he left the door to his balcony slightly ajar and he focuses his gaze back on Hanbin.

“Since when have you been doing this?” Hao tries to start a conversation with him. It’s curious. Hanbin looks to be about Hao’s age, yet he doesn’t seem to attend university. Judging by the way his father was instructing him yesterday, Hao suspects this is more than a mere part-time job. “This line of work, I mean.”

“I started right after finishing my military service, so…” he trails off, face concentrated. It’s endearing, the way he scrunches his face in thought. “About one year?” Hao hums and Hanbin looks at him, pausing his work on the AC once more. “How about you? You’re from China, right? I could tell by your name. Your Korean is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks! And yeah,” Hao nods. “I came here for my bachelor’s degree and I’m almost done. Only one more semester to go.” Hanbin opens his mouth and Hao already knows what he’s about to ask. “Music theory, with a minor in education,” he beats him to it. “That’s what I’m studying.”

“Oh,” Hanbin draws out, a smile on his face. “That sounds very interesting. So, you’ll be a teacher?”

“Hopefully.” Hao plays with the frayed hem of his shirt.

“Really cool. I’ve always admired teachers,” he admits.

“That’s nice,” Hao muses. “Most people think I’m crazy for wanting to become one though.”

“Well, don’t listen to those people,” Hanbin presses, brows angled in pretend strictness. Very adorable.

“Okay,” Hao laughs. “From now on, I won’t.” Absentmindedly, he regards Hanbin’s unfairly stunning side profile when he crouches to look for a tool. “And how did you get started with this after the military?”

“Well, my father needed someone.” Hanbin stretches his limbs once when he finds it, the burning sunlight flitting into the small room giving his tan skin a glow. “It’s becoming harder and harder for him to do this every day and I wanted to help. So, I did.”

The man doesn’t delve further into his own education, so Hao doesn’t pry. He knows it can be a touchy subject to some.

“That’s really nice of you. One year already,” Hao says instead. “I’m assuming you can pretty much fix anything by this point?” He shoots jokingly, tilting his head to the side.

Hao’s usually not the type for small talk. Conversing about insignificant matters to strangers for no reason other than to fill the quiet and maintain an illusion of friendship where there is none has always seemed like mental warfare to him. So why can’t he shut up now?

“Pretty much,” Hanbin replies proudly, a grin stretching his lips, nearly tearing his face apart.

They keep chatting while Hanbin does his work and it’s peculiar. Talking to the man is comfortable, mollifyingly so. Hanbin humors him with enthusiastic reactions and thoughtful responses, adding to their conversation and engaging Hao like it’s the most natural thing to do. It’s not natural to Hao, however, Hanbin’s personality making him open up without even noticing — something he rarely ever does. He’s not a big talker, and yet they continue talking.

Hao giggles at something the man has said. “Your girlfriend must be glad. Always having someone around to fix everything for her and whatnot.”

He really doesn’t think much of it when he says this. It just kind of slips out.

Hao supposes that while watching Hanbin work, he has curated some sort of image of him, unbeknownst to himself. He sees it clearly: a hard-working, red-blooded young man, coming home from his nine-to-five to a loving and doting girlfriend, already waiting for him with a warm meal. Like the pre-stage to a picture-perfect nuclear family.

The only thing that kind of clashes with this fantasy and makes Hao reconsider his assumptions is Hanbin’s sweet demeanor. Somehow, the man is too kind for the type of person Hao is envisioning in the back of his mind.

Maybe Hao did have an ulterior motive while uttering his comment. Perhaps some secret, buried part of him wanted to confirm his suspicions: That while, yes, Hanbin might be disarmingly nice, he’s still just another guy, painfully heteronormative and proud of it too.

Hanbin snorts, a funny sound, and immediately looks embarrassed, quickly hiding behind his hand. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “Uhm, and well, no, not exactly. I’m single,” he supplies, lowering his palm.

“Ah,” Hao replies, truly unable to make anything of that statement.

Confused, he watches Hanbin while the man’s face flushes. Hao doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly so flustered. Hanbin’s eyes dart all over the apartment, nervous, before they finally land on the collectibles laying on Hao’s dresser. They’re photocards from a male celebrity Hao is more than obsessed with, showing him in various poses and cute garments.

Oh god, Hao forgot to put them away. Although he cherishes his collection dearly, he does feel like he’s been found out. He’s embarrassed as Hanbin keeps his eyes on the many cards, his expression slowly relaxing.

In a flash, there’s a daring smile playing at his lips, like he’s privy to some information Hao is yet unaware of. It makes Hao jittery.

“But even with my ex,” Hanbin continues, “I was just starting out then, so I couldn’t really be of great help anyways. Plus,” he adds, staring straight at Hao now, “He didn’t really like it when I touched his stuff. He was kind of peculiar like that.”

Sure, Hao thinks. That could be.

Wait.

His busy mind comes to a screeching halt.

Did Hanbin just say he?

“He?” Hao asks incredulously, eyes wide and brows raised.

Damn his lack of brain to mouth filter in situations like these.

“Yes.” Hanbin keeps looking at him.

Hao is lost for words. At this rate, Hanbin might think he has some sort of problem with his sexuality or something equally ridiculous. When really, Hao has no problem with this unexpected admission. No, none at all.

“I mean, that’s great,” he tries to amend, standing up to make his point. “If you’re into that– I mean, I’m also–“ Oh god, never mind. Stop talking, Hao. “Just– That’s really cool and I’m– Uhh, I’m sorry that you guys broke up.” His face is burning hotter than the boiling asphalt right outside the building, helpless to the unrelenting assault of the sun. It’s as if someone has cranked up the heat to impossible degrees, sweat trailing down Hao’s armpits and along his back. “I have to go to the bathroom!” He announces before sprinting off.

Hao spends the remainder of his time in there, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat and biting at his nails.

Luckily, Hanbin doesn’t take much longer to finish up and Hao comes out of his hiding place as soon as he hears him packing his things. He needs to at least see the man off, not wanting to be rude.

“That’s it for today,” Hanbin starts when he spots Hao. He seems to be trying very hard to fight a grin from taking over his face. “I’ll be back here first thing on Monday. The AC should be up and running by Tuesday, I think.”

“Thank you, Hanbin-ssi,” Hao replies, gaze directed downward, boring holes into his slipper-clad feet.

“Just Hanbin is fine,” he says. His voice is gentle, having picked up on Hao’s discomfort, and Hao looks up. “No need for formalities. We’re about the same age, right?”

“I’m twenty-two.”

Hanbin smiles at Hao softly, dimples appearing on his face like whiskers. “You’re older than me by one year. Can I call you hyung, then?”

Hao’s cheeks burn. Seriously, what’s gotten into him? It’s like some divine spirit of humility and demureness possesses his body in front of Hanbin.

He struggles to keep his eyes on the other man and, ultimately, succeeds, facing him head-on.

“Sure, hyung is fine.”

Just as Hanbin is about to exit his home, toolbox on one arm, ladder on the other, arms flexing deliciously, glistening with a layer of sweat, he turns back to Hao one last time.

“And, while I appreciate your concern, I’m really not hung up on my ex. No need to feel sorry. I’m definitely ready for someone new.”

He winks at Hao, eyes twinkling, before he leaves for good and Hao doesn’t manage to produce a single reply, brain turned to mush.

The third time Hao sees him, Hanbin is dressed in a hoody, soft on his frame, a pair of shorts, ending right at his knees and slippers, too big for his feet.

It’s Saturday, already dark out, and Hao is taking a trip to the closest convenience store as usual, dressed haphazardly and hair unkempt, strands standing up at the back of his head. All he had done today was rewatch his favorite reality program and suffer through the heat miserably. Right as the eighth episode of the show had commenced, Hao had experienced a sudden craving for ice cream — hence, his current situation.

He's standing in front of the freezer, mentally contemplating which flavor to go with and the cooler emits cold air, hitting Hao’s bare legs and making him shiver lightly.

Really, Hao hears Hanbin before he sees him, a booming voice to his left.

His body goes rigid and he looks to the source of the commotion, seeing a group of guys around his age huddled around the snack aisle, arguing over which brand of cookies to add to their shopping basket. Hanbin is among them, laughing airily, leaning against a tall boy and, every now and again, adding fuel to the fiery discussion the group is having. Hao scans him and there’s a slight flush sitting high on Hanbin’s cheeks. His eyes look bleary, wearing a smile too big for his handsome face. He seems kind of drunk.

Quickly, Hao picks up an ice cream, belatedly realizing that he doesn’t even like this flavor. But it doesn’t matter. He just wants to get out of here as fast as possible, already turning toward the cash register. The idea of greeting Hanbin while he’s out with his friends having a great time somehow makes his stomach sink inexplicably and he hopes he can make it home without being recognized.

He’s out of the sliding doors when Hanbin calls out to him.

“Oh, hey, Hao-hyung!”

Footsteps patter at the back of his ears and for a split second, Hao considers bolting. There’s something humiliating about his current state, disheveled and on his way to watch some mindless television in the quiet of his stifling room, alone.

But before he knows it, Hanbin is right behind him, making him stop in his tracks.

“Hyung, it’s me.”

Hao turns around, clutching the frozen plastic wrapping of the ice cream in his hand, grip way too strong. The breeze is forgiving this time of night, offering reprieve from the blazing sun and granting a fleeting moment of pleasant warmth. The wind ruffles Hao’s bangs and he musters a smile at Hanbin who looks all too excited to see him here.

“Oh, hey Hanbin, I didn’t see you there,” he lies.

“I wasn’t sure it was you at first but then I saw your slippers.” Hanbin smiles at him, expression relaxed and open, and Hao feels his initial apprehension slowly melt away, a block of stubborn ice faced with the relentless onslaught of impossibly bright sunlight. “I remembered them from yesterday.”

“Ah, yes.” Hao stretches his leg, looking down at his foot. “I love these.”

“They’re cute,” Hanbin beams. He looks good, once again, black hair falling over his brows in an effortless manner and hood pulled up. His hands are buried deep in his pockets and his dark eyes sparkle at Hao.

“Thanks,” Hao coughs out, hands flying to the back of his head in an attempt to fight against the growing gust of wind, taming his wild strands.

Hanbin’s group of friends trickle out of the sliding doors one by one, staying by the entrance as they notice Hanbin still talking to him. One of them catches Hao’s eye and smiles and Hao immediately turns back to Hanbin, overwhelmed with the attention.

“Your friends are waiting for you.” He vaguely gestures toward the store.

“Eh, they’ll be okay,” Hanbin murmurs before an idea seems to pop in his head, enthusiasm blooming on his features. “We’re actually heading to mine. Nothing crazy, just a few drinks and some video games. I’d love it if you joined us.”

Well, Hao certainly wasn’t expecting that. They might’ve hit it off suspiciously well yesterday but still, they barely know each other. He worries his lips, brain racing to conjure up an answer.

Hanbin senses his wariness and adds, “No pressure, of course. I just thought I’d offer.”

“Oh no, of course, uhm, thanks. But I, uh, have some important stuff to get back to, so…” Hao trails off, cringing internally. It’s blatantly obvious that he does not, in fact, have important stuff of any sort to get back to.

Hanbin looks dejected for a minute beat, disappointment shining in his gaze so briefly that Hao almost misses it. But he catches himself quickly, offering Hao a brilliant smile instead. “Of course, no worries.” He turns toward his friends once, before looking back at Hao. “Uhm, it was nice seeing you.”

“Yeah,” Hao breathes, mentally berating himself for how awkward he’s made the situation. “You too.”

“Guess I’ll see you on Monday.” Hanbin pulls his hands out of his pockets and fiddles with them for a second, unsure of what to do. He settles for a small wave. “Bye then.”

Hao waves back, limbs as heavy as lead. “Bye-bye.”

Something tells Hao that Hanbin is reluctant to leave, his mouth opening and closing in vain. He looks like he wants to say something more but, ultimately, decides against it, nodding at Hao once before retreating, joining his group. They immediately wrap Hanbin up in their arms, voices boisterous as they joke around, unintelligible to Hao’s ears. Face animated, Hanbin is just as eager to join in on their quarrels, expression crinkling in delight.

Hao did assume that Hanbin would be generally well-liked — his nice words yesterday speaking to his inviting character.

But seeing it in person is something else entirely. He’s very loved, very adored, it seems, practically shining under the weak light of the street lamps and the affection of the people surrounding him. It makes something hot twist in Hao’s chest.

An all too familiar wave of humiliation crashes on him, from head to toe, as he stares at Hanbin’s figure for another greedy moment. Finally, he turns, making his way back home, the darkness of the temperate summer air swallowing him whole.

Hao can’t get the image of Hanbin out of his head as he lays awake in bed that night.

He keeps replaying their encounter in his mind, over and over again, remembering how welcoming Hanbin had been, kind enough to ask him to hang out with his friends even though they’ve only known each other for three days.

Shame burns in his gut at the memory of his cowardly rejection of Hanbin’s offer, at the memory of how his face had fallen. Maybe Hao should’ve just broken out of his shell and said yes. Maybe then he’d be laughing along with Hanbin’s friends now, sitting on a cozy couch and feeling slightly buzzed from a beer or two.

Instead, Hao is trapped in his sweltering bed, under the suffocating sheets, thinking and thinking endlessly.

It’s blatantly obvious why Hanbin is so treasured and popular. Hao wonders what came first — if Hanbin is such a darling person because he’s received so much love in his life or if he’s received so much love in his life because he’s such a darling person.

Either way, something in Hao calls for him, he realizes. A place from deep within his chest, a dingy forgotten corner batters with a sensation akin to jealousy. It’s not quite jealousy though, Hao would know. He recognizes what it really is — a familiar longing bubbling up inside of his lungs, filling him bit by bit. Over the years, Hao had learned how to expertly suppress the lingering feeling. Now however, it seems as though that very same feeling is trying to claw its way right out of the heated flesh of his chest.

He twists and turns in his sheets futilely, heartbeat picking up. Ultimately, Hao surrenders and reaches for his phone.

Before he knows it, he types Hanbin’s name into a popular search engine. As expected, nothing useful comes up. Hao doesn’t even know his last name. Just what is he doing?

It’s been a very long time since he’s felt this way, especially about a person. Was it during the second year of middle school? He can’t recall. But it happens sometimes, or has happened at least. Hao doesn’t like it — how his need to know more about Hanbin consumes him, the obsession rapidly festering in his brain, making the idea of diverting his attention elsewhere in an attempt to hit the brakes almost laughable.

Nevertheless, he persists, uncaring and remorseless, and after half an hour of digging, he finally finds Hanbin’s personal social media account.

He’d done this by looking up his landlady instead and through the companies in relation to her, he had discovered Hanbin’s father’s profile on an outdated website. From then on, it was smooth sailing, easily acquiring Hanbin’s username linked below one of their many household pictures. What a sweet family they make, Hao had thought in passing.

Hanbin’s account resembles him in a way. Neat and with a few cute emoticons adorning his nickname: beeeeen_0613.

Leisurely, he goes through Hanbin’s profile, taking all the time in the world. Hao applies the same meticulousness to his investigation as he does to his university coursework, secretly overjoyed at this fruitful revelation.

There’s a variety of pictures and videos of Hanbin, taken either alone or with his friends. Hao scrolls through them, through the comments, reading them all with great focus. Once again, he is hit with the realization that a lot of people seem to really adore Hanbin.

He spends an hour just milling around, visiting Hanbin’s account on another application, his username visible in certain videos he has posted where he’s playfully dancing along to popular songs. There, Hao delves into Hanbin’s likes — what he finds funny, the things he’s interested in, the content he enjoys. All of it is very sweet, very Hanbin, from what Hao can tell. It mostly consists of clips showing new-born animals in various states of cuteness or of children taking their first steps, learning their first words and imitating their parents in silly ways.

Personally, Hao would never disclose his likes, his preferences much different from Hanbin’s, but he smiles anyway. It’s another layer to Sung (yes, naturally, he has learned his last name) Hanbin that has quietly enamored him.

Hao is enjoying himself, tapping back into Hanbin’s personal account. Insatiable, he keeps looking, and he admits, he’s especially taken with one series of pictures in particular.

The images show Hanbin on a beach of some sort, in the middle of playing volleyball with a group of men. He’s dressed sparsely, wearing another one of his revealing tank tops, this time with shorts, exposing his muscular legs. Hao swipes and there’s a video of Hanbin in action, running up to the net swiftly and with bare feet, jumping high and landing a strike to the ball. The ball unfortunately flies way too far, out of bounds, and Hanbin jogs up to the camera dejectedly. There’s a pout curving his mouth for a beat, lower lip pushed forward in pretend misery before it gives way to a radiant smile on a beautifully flushed face. Hanbin’s hair is plastered to his forehead in the gathering of sweat, the blazing sunlight nearly making him glitter, his steadily reddening skin luminous, and Hao gulps, his throat drier than sandpaper, jaw slacked of its own accord.

He thinks back to how Hanbin had looked tonight, so lovely and gentle. In another universe, Hao would’ve liked to bury himself in the crook of Hanbin’s neck, probably comfortingly warm and soft to the touch. He remembers how Hanbin had looked yesterday, physically exerting himself by working on his AC in the humid air, arms strong and damp, dependable back and shoulders on display, skin of his nape a wonderful shade of scarlet.

Hao knew this was coming, had known it as soon as he’d reached for his phone, had tried to fight it off for as long as possible. However, he’s just a man and he, too, has needs, his body reminding him now more than ever, all his nerve endings perking up in absurd levels of interest.

His hand trails over his own clothed chest, down his abdomen, and the only thing running through his mind is Hanbin’s supple muscle, the sharp angles of his face, the way his expression would contort in concentration when he was dealing with an especially annoying part of Hao’s broken appliance, his striking brows furrowed. The way his dark eyes had zeroed in on Hao, glinting and unwavering, when he’d talked about his ex.

Hao holds his phone up with his free hand, trailing the image of Hanbin’s face on his overly bright screen with his thumb — his attractive smile, his pinkish lips, stretching thin and making Hao ache for a taste. The tendons of his neck are deliciously thick as he leans his head back in an innocent laugh. Even the sight of his fuzzy sideburns makes desire coil in Hao’s stomach. Right now, he wants every part of Hanbin.

The once faint trickle of need hastily increases, flooding Hao’s lower belly with a buzzing sensation and making him hot all over, from the base of his spine to the top of his nape. His hand travels lower and lower, imagining it to be Hanbin’s palm, imagining Hanbin’s fit body leaning over him, weighing him down. Finally, a breath of relief is punched out of him. His heartbeat picks up yet again and he’s sloppy and fast, spreading his precum and working himself in his fist roughly.

If he comes that night, harder than he ever has, with Sung Hanbin’s name on the petals of his lips, then no one needs to know.

The fourth time Hao sees him, Hanbin arrives earlier in the day than expected, a faint knock on his door keeping a sleepy Hao from dozing off again. He springs up from his sheets as if struck by lightning, quickly flitting across the floor.

As he swings the door open with an enthusiasm blooming in his chest that teeters just on the brink of being too much, he regrets his hasty decision immediately. He hadn’t even taken a moment to regard himself in the mirror, make sure his hair didn’t mimic a bird’s nest or rid himself of any potential eye boogers clinging to his skin. It’s too late for that now anyway, already faced with a gorgeously bright-eyed Hanbin, whose day has probably started several hours before Hao’s.

The sight of his bare arms, which Hao has grown infinitely fond of, catches up to him and he vehemently tries not to think about what he did less than 48 hours ago while envisioning those very same shoulders and that very same biceps. He’s irrationally scared it’s somehow showing on his face. What would an I jerked off to the thought of you two nights ago expression even look like to begin with?

Hanbin’s tank top is black this time, still equally tight and exposing, and instead of his technician overall, he’s wearing a pair of simple gray sweatpants.

May some higher power help Hao through this sitting without any mortifying mishaps. He can already feel something big coming on as he rakes his eyes over Hanbin’s delectable figure, making an honest effort to be as discreet as possible.

“Morning,” Hanbin greets him, not making his way past Hao toward the AC straight away like he’s done the other times. “Sorry that I didn’t warn you about being here a little earlier than usual today, there were some changes in my schedule.” He pauses, looking off to the side, away from Hao. “I had no way to contact you,” he mumbles inconspicuously, “To let you know, you know.”

“Oh,” Hao breathes, unsure of what to say to that. “Well, it’s no problem.” He steps aside. “Come on in.”

Hanbin’s face pulls at the edges in trepidation, dark eyes flitting back to Hao, darting across his face. Hao feels bashful under the sudden scrutiny and gives a polite smile, hoping to appease whatever it is Hanbin is searching for.

The moment passes in a blink and Hanbin schools his appearance anew, an amicable grin taking rein of his features.

“Sure.” Hanbin nods and is about to step in, ladder on his arm, when he scans Hao’s figure and stops at his chest. His eyes double in size and a wheeze tumbles out of his throat, the telltale signs of an oncoming blush presenting themselves at the bottom of his neck in a flash.

Hao tilts his head in confusion. Did he spill sriracha sauce all over himself again without noticing? Surely, that wouldn’t call for such a great reaction, Hao mentally grumbles to himself. Has Hanbin never seen a dirty shirt before?

Hao peers down in wonder but finds no such thing. It’s just one of his many sleep shirts. He was too hurried while answering the door, finding no time to change out of it beforehand. Was that really so bad?

He keeps his head down for another beat, pondering and deliberating pointlessly, before he eventually reads the print, the bright pink lettering on the front.

It had been a joke gift from Kuanjui when he’d left home, a plea of sorts to finally put himself out there and find someone, if only even for one night.

There’s nothing funny about it now, however, as Hanbin clears his throat. Hao’s head snaps back up in panic and a mischievous simper makes the corners of Hanbin’s mouth twitch.

Virgin And Proud, it reads.

He is not, in fact, proud, but that’s the least of Hao’s concerns right now.

Kuanjui will pay for this.

Hanbin coughs out a laugh and comes in. He looks like he’s enjoying this a little too much, carrying his utensils in like they don’t weigh a single pound. “Nice shirt,” he says over his shoulder and Hao wants nothing more than to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face.

So much for making it through the day without embarrassing himself in any way.

Hao tries to play it off. He just needs to keep his cool and it’ll all be fine. “Oh yeah, this is just what I sleep in. I didn’t have time to change, sorry.”

Hanbin looks at him after he’s set up his ladder and Hao is certain the gradually rising heat in his cheeks is betraying his pretend composure, body so hot he wants to crawl out of it. “No problem at all,” Hanbin giggles impishly. It gains on the fat beneath his eyes and folds them into two endearingly neat crescent shapes. “Hyung.”

Who cares if Hao is a virgin. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t bother him in the slightest. But it does, especially now when he’s reminded of the fact so rudely.

Sure, people have expressed their interest toward him. Hao isn’t dumb. He knows he has a nice face and a nice body, blessed in that regard by his beautiful mother’s overpowering genetics.

There had been a few guys during his schooldays who had cornered him behind the shabby, run-down building, right next to the smelly dumpsters, and had asked him in hushed voices if he wanted to kiss them, wanted to touch them and have them touch him in return — in secret, of course, and without anyone knowing. There were even more instances where he had gone clubbing with Kuanjui late into the night, politely turning down the offers of men, some too slimy, some too arrogant, some simply too eager. Instead, he had spent his time watching his best friend seduce strangers just for the fun of it, enjoying the view but unwilling to partake in any of it.

Truthfully, it wasn’t for the lack of options that he has never been intimate with someone in that way before.

“Hyung?”

Trying to clear his mind, Hao shakes his head once. He’s desperate to divert the attention elsewhere. “Just Hao is fine.”

Hanbin looks vaguely concerned about how quiet he’d been. “What do you mean?”

Hao doesn’t want him to think he’s somehow upset about his teasing tone earlier, so he puts on an easy smile. “I mean, you can drop the hyung.”

Comically, Hanbin’s eyes widen, his lashes long, irises shimmering at Hao in astonishment. He’s seriously too pretty. Hao almost laughs at how appalled he looks at the idea. “I can’t…” he trails off.

“Yes, you can,” Hao pushes. “Come on, in China you only use honorifics when someone is significantly older than you. I’m not much older than you.”

“But,” Hanbin fends for himself, gesturing wildly. It’s sweet, how persistent he is. “You’re still older than me, hyung. I don’t know, it doesn’t feel respectful.” He scratches his hair, tousling it in a way that pushes his bangs from his forehead. Hao mentally thanks him. “Especially toward a client.”

“Hanbin,” Hao steels his voice. “I’m telling you right now, I don’t mind. I prefer it, actually.” He doesn’t want to think too deeply about why he’s so intent on having Hanbin call him by nothing else than his name, why he wants to eliminate this invisible barrier between them. “It sounds nicer.”

As if he’s bitten into something sour, Hanbin’s face contorts, struggling against his own instincts. In the end, Hao gets what he wants.

“Okay,” Hanbin concedes. “Just Hao, then?”

Hao grins in victory, obvious in his satisfaction. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

Hanbin finally climbs up the ladder, the sunlight filtering in through the blinds painting him in an auburn hue. He gets to work and Hao realizes that he had momentarily forgotten why Hanbin was even here in the first place.

He feels useless. To some extent, he’s inclined to keep up his conversation with the man but he’s also feeling meek at the same time. This probably isn’t the only unit Hanbin has to get to today and Hao doesn’t want to needlessly distract him. Instead, he keeps mum and falls into his spot by the balcony, the cushion warmed by the rays of sun continuously beating down on it.

Time passes and Hanbin is focused, barely glancing back at Hao. Well, it is his job to fix the AC after all. With Hanbin’s back to him, he has half a mind to feel creepy in his shameless ogling of the man. It’s not enough to keep him from doing it, however.

The gray sweatpants Hanbin’s wearing aren’t too big on his lower frame and hug his backside nicely. The tanned skin of his arms glows beneath the shades of orange shining in, as he moves up and down the ladder tirelessly. The air is stale, stuck in space, and it’s making Hanbin sweat.

Hao also sweats. Hanbin looks good, all bare and glistening, and he suddenly feels self-conscious, getting up quietly and escaping into the bathroom. There, he changes into something more appropriate and washes his face, applying dots of cream to his skin and bending his hair to look tidier.

When he steps out of the bathroom, Hanbin is already looking at him, back twisted. As if caught in the act, a brief shock of surprise passes through his features before he composes himself.

“You changed,” he announces, voice unassuming.

“Yeah.”

“That’s a shame,” Hanbin mumbles and turns toward the utensils on the floor. “I liked the shirt.”

Hao can’t entirely tell if he’s being serious or if he’s joking around, having enjoyed Hao’s flustered state a little too much earlier. Then, he sees Hanbin’s cheeks shoot up, the back of his head and the roundness of his smile the only things visible to Hao from his position. And with that, he’s sure.

The little shit.

“Yeah?” He plays along. At least, Hanbin is talking to him now, his concentration not completely consumed by Hao’s damaged appliance. It’s better than nothing, so he’ll take it.

“It was cute,” Hanbin says as he rummages around in his toolbox, the remnants of a grin giving his lips a curve.

Hao can sense his curiosity.

“It’s a gift from a friend,” he starts. “He gave it to me as a joke. Sort of a push in the right direction, if you know what I mean.” Hao doesn’t know why he says the next part. Something about Hanbin just makes him want to talk, to spill all his secrets. “Needless to say, it didn’t work out. You know…”

“Oh,” Hanbin breathes, his face suddenly void of laughter. “I see.”

It dawns on Hao then — that Hanbin must’ve thought it was just a silly shirt, just a simple joke, holding no ounce of truth to it.

Once again, humiliation warms the blood in his veins, uncomfortable and hot. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. There’s an awkward lull and Hao can’t stand it, his upper lip quivering. He curses himself for his childish feelings.

Hao doesn’t like to admit this to himself, much less out loud to someone else, but he’s had certain fantasies about love and romance ever since he was young, clinging to him, unrelenting, like the leeches that used to plague the beach he would play at as a kid, digging themselves into the soft skin of his legs and making the younger version of him shriek in despair.

His friends always pushed him to own up to it, like it was this big truth about him, something essential to his nature. Perhaps in some ways, it was:  Just say that you’re a romantic, Hao. But even now, as Hao remembers their words, he finds that the term romantic itself does not do the thing that he craves justice.

And really, Hao is fine on his own. He’s good at being alone.

There are a million different things he wants to do, there’s always something he hasn’t gotten to yet. He actually enjoys being by himself, excited to arrive home after a long day out and do whatever he wants to do, independent of the wishes of anybody else. It’s peaceful.

Hao isn’t in the slightest interested in giving up this peace for the sake of being with someone — anyone. He doesn’t want just anyone, not even for one night.

What he wants is simple. Someone that makes him pause upon the first sight of them. Someone that makes his breath halt and his heart thunder, someone that sweeps him off his feet and makes him forget everything else, turning the world on its axis, shifting Hao’s center of gravity just so that suddenly, everything falls into place.

It shouldn’t be too much to ask. He’s been called delusional, immature, naïve, and every other iteration of that same notion over this. He does not care.

It’s what he’s waiting for, what’s been showing up in his dreams at night ever since he’s been able to think. What he hopes he deserves.

And there’s a faint voice, a budding current, growing in the back of his mind, desperately trying to make itself known, screaming something at him — but Hao won’t have it.

It’s unrealistic. It’s too good to be true.

Hanbin coughs, once.

“I mean,” the man muses. “Not even–“ he cuts himself off promptly, thankfully stopping that particular thought from being fully verbalized. Hao thinks he would truly die of shame if he had to divulge the details of his inexperience.

Hanbin’s brows are drawn in contemplation, obviously having picked up on Hao’s unease and trying to alleviate it somehow. “I mean, of course that can be,” he continues, wiping his hands on his sweatpants and standing up to face Hao. “It’s completely normal, everyone should be able to do things at their own pace.”

“Sure Hanbin, it’s fine.” Hao wants this conversation to be over. He does not need anyone’s pity, least of all Hanbin’s. His ears are about to fall off from all the blood rushing north and the quiet between them from earlier seems like a distant dream now.

“No, I’m serious.” Hanbin looks straight at him, voice soft. “I mean, who cares?” There’s a hint of something else in his manner, something that Hao can’t place. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble at all finding someone if you ever wanted to do that, you know. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Hao doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer.

“Yeah, uhm,” Hanbin stalls. “A guy like you, I don’t know, I thought you would have men lining up for you. I mean,” his voice breaks on the latter syllable and he clears his throat. Hanbin starts again, an evident blush rising to his cheeks. “I mean, of course that could still be the case. Men throwing themselves at you, that is. It’s probably your personal choice, right? I don’t know, I guess I just had the wrong idea,” Hanbin finishes, and he looks winded, completely red from his rant.

Men throwing themselves at you.

Is that a compliment? Does Hanbin think men should be throwing themselves at him? Would Hanbin like to do the same? Why is Hanbin’s flush so intense? Hao’s head rings with this invasion of new information, his mind scrambling to make sense of what he’s hearing.

“I think you’re confusing me for yourself,” Hao says suddenly. He means it in a joking manner, the serious shift in the air intimidating him, trying to defuse it in any way possible.

He fears he’s done the opposite though, charting into unknown territory in the blink of an eye.

“For myself?” Hanbin tilts his head. “No way,” he draws out, but his gaze has sharpened at the comment. It’s a look Hao has never seen on the man in the handful of days he’s known him. It fits him well, as does everything else.

Hao supposes his careless remark has given Hanbin a slight inkling, unintentionally showing him a minimal fraction of the interest he’s secretly been harboring for him. It seems to be enough for Hanbin however as his eyes dim, smile losing its soft outline, honed. Hao can sense it, the change in atmosphere, the dark pupils boring themselves into his skull. It scathes his skin from the inside.

He’s glad he changed out of his nasty sleep shirt before, or the sensation would’ve been much harder to handle.

“You’ve got that mixed up,” Hanbin adds. He searches Hao’s face for another beat and, just like that, he’s back to his good-natured grin, providing Hao with a severe case of whiplash.

“Sure,” Hao forfeits, still rattled from Hanbin’s precipitous change in attitude.

It’s not like he believes him anyway. He’s thoroughly explored the comments under Hanbin’s posts, seen all the messages sent his way, over half of them practically reeking of wretched desperation for the man. Hao can’t blame them, really. He’s plagued by the very same need for Hanbin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you. You should continue. I don’t know, you probably have more stuff you need to get done today, right?”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Hanbin says and pulls his right arm across his torso with his left hand, stretching it and inconspicuously giving the muscle of his biceps a touch of definition. “My dad wanted me to get here earlier today so that I can finish everything up in time. Starting tomorrow, we have to work on Yunhee-ssi’s own place. The big boss. So, you know.” He shakes out his arm, body losing some of its tension. “Last day and all. But you’re right, I should carry on.”

The remainder of Hanbin’s time is spent on the appliance and before long, his AC blinks blue stagnantly, once, twice, and comes to life, a mechanical ding resounding through the small room. The electrical whirring that Hao had missed so deeply starts up once again and fills his apartment with comforting white noise.

“See.” Hanbin climbs down the ladder. “Done in no time.”

“Perfect.”

Hao should be happy. His air conditioning is finally fixed and he can go back to doing whatever it is he had spent his time doing before. A gush of cold, climatized air hits his face, an occurrence he hasn’t had the pleasure of experiencing in over a week. This is a good thing.

“Thank you so much.”

Hao’s tone of voice betrays none of his thoughts. His imploring stare is fixed on Hanbin’s form as he carries the heavy utensils away one by one. Hao knows for a fact that Hanbin could lift them all at once and save himself the several trips to and from his door. He does not state this out loud, opting to watch Hanbin’s black tank top cling to his back and move along his skin each time he strains his muscles picking one of the tools up.

“Of course,” Hanbin replies easily, having gathered everything by the entryway. “I’m glad I could help.”

A few steps from the door, Hao leans against the wall. Hanbin stacks his equipment on top of the toolbox, lifting it with one arm and the ladder with the other, draping the middle of it over his sturdy shoulder and getting ready to leave. Hao is sure going to miss this.

“This is it, then.” Hanbin looks at him.

“Yeah,” Hao breathes, the faint voice he had drowned out earlier gaining volume once again, struggling against the back of his skull, trying to break free from its unyielding confinement.

It’s not like Hao is immune to experiencing loneliness. He likes to pretend that he is but it’s far from the truth. And there are times when the days stretch on too long and there’s one thing going wrong after the other and he misses his friends and there’s nobody he can lean on, or depend on, or cry himself out to. Times when he’s overworked and overwhelmed, clueless on what to do with himself, where to put his boundless feelings and infinite desires.

In those moments, an ugly clump of darkness in his chest starts chanting at him that love might simply not be for him. That it’s not Hao’s place, that he should let the idea go once and for all. It’s dramatic and it borders on self-pity but it’s not like he does it consciously. And anyway, it does little to change the fact that he still longs for it. Whether it’s meant for him or not.

All he can do is peer at Hanbin though, standing in his doorway as though he belongs.

“It was really nice meeting you, Hao.” Hanbin makes a point of omitting the hyung.

A cool breeze strokes the back of Hao’s neck, yet he still feels warm. “You too, Hanbin,” he mimics his accentuation. Then, Hao lifts his hand, mentally deciding on giving Hanbin an amicable wave and closing the door, dealing with his emotions all by himself once he’s alone again, when Hanbin speaks.

“And, uhm, you know.” His mouth opens and closes, corners of his lips downturned in contemplation, awfully cute. It’s reminiscent of when they said goodbye to each other in front of the convenience store, Hanbin having seemed unwilling to go then but unable to say anything more to keep their exchange from ending.

Charged, he regards Hao, tracing his features with his eyes. Hao swears he can make out countless questions swimming in the depth of Hanbin’s pupils, uncertainty painting them dark. He doubts he has the answers to any of them but at least, he doesn’t look away.

Emboldening his stare, Hanbin continues, “If you ever want to hang out or something like that, you know where to find me.”

I thought you would have men lining up for you, Hanbin’s soothing voice rings in Hao’s mind.

“I’ll be right here,” Hanbin tacks on and winks at him. His features sharpen once more, exactly like they had done before, intense and attractive, a blood sniffing shark.

Hanbin wants him. To some degree at least.

Hao finally lets the thought sink its teeth into his mind. He wasn’t keen on acknowledging it but now it’s as clear as the blue cloudless sky outside.

The air conditioning humming from behind Hao does little to tame the flames licking up his cheeks, the burn he feels sitting right below his brow bone.

He’s grave in his wish to say something, anything, to let Hanbin know that his feelings toward Hao, whatever they may be, are reciprocated. That Hao also has desires, a desire for Hanbin, and that he would very much like to act on it.

The part of Hao’s brain responsible for conveying his longings hasn’t been utilized in a very long time however, the gears in his head working in rusty slowness, blocking his voice from escaping his scratchy throat. His heart thunders in his chest in forceful beats, attempting to flee his body and reach for Hanbin on its own. True shame that it doesn’t work.

“Sure,” Hao simply replies, tone even. Every fiber of his being struggles against his actions, his chest constricting in protest. He doesn’t know what to do, how to navigate the fact that he’s just been yearning all this time, tirelessly and aimlessly. Now that he’s met with someone who takes on the face of his insatiable craving, he’s scared to make a wrong move, scared to move at all, and he doesn’t know how to change this.

Hao is a coward.

Hanbin’s expression dulls, and he nods in response.

That’s that.

The fifth time Hao sees him, Hanbin is everything he could have ever asked for. His perfect summer.

The room is quiet save for the buzzing of the AC. Hao’s legs are propped up against the headboard, lounging on his bed upside down, eyes glued to a tattered page of his book. He’s looking at the words, but they make no sense to him, dancing across his vision in a taunting manner.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been laying here for.

Hao is very well aware of the reason for his restlessness. It looms over him, and he feels it when he watches a rerun of a random show on his bulky television. He feels it when he sits down to eat on the shabby stool right by his humble kitchenette. He even feels it when he’s talking to Kuanjui over the phone, humming along to whatever his friend is saying. He’s useless as a conversational partner, too distracted to contribute anything of value to their calls.

Hao thinks about Hanbin a lot.

During all these moments, Hao thinks about Hanbin.

He’s especially ashamed to admit that it’s become a habit of his to think about Hanbin at night, too, in the privacy of his dusky room and warm sheets.

Bit by bit, the hunger eats at Hao, trying to satiate its need and sacrificing Hao’s sanity in the process, feeding on every single one of his nerve endings with the sole goal of filling itself up. Hao is frayed at the edges, strung tight like the strings of the violin he was forced to play as a child. He never liked it very much. You do like Hanbin very much, his mind supplies helpfully.

It’s ridiculous. They’re practically strangers.

He slams his book down and huffs once.

Hanbin is probably only about five minutes away by foot at most, roaming around somewhere in the building, tending to his tasks and fulfilling his duties. It’s nearly unbelievable that they’ve never crossed paths before. Hao still feels as if they are oceans apart. He merely has to see him again, he tells himself. Just look at him one more time, that’s all he needs. Maybe it will help quell his overwhelming engrossment.

Well, waiting around, praying for his obsession to pass in silence all on its own is clearly not working and Hao is truly running out of ideas. It can’t be worse than this.

He won’t know for sure unless he tries.

With that resolute conviction in mind, Hao struts across his tiled floor, sweaty feet leaving faint footprints in their path, and flings his door open with far more strength than necessary.

Of course.

Hanbin always seems to know all the right things to say. Apparently, this gift extends to his actions as well, as he stands on the other side of the threshold, hand risen like he was about to knock, straight out of Hao’s daydreams, blindingly bright.

They’re both caught off guard, two fish out of water.

“Oh!” Startled, Hanbin’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Sorry, were you just leaving? I don’t wanna hold you up if you have somewhere else to be.”

He’s wearing a casual shirt for a change, a soft shade of purple, hanging from his frame nicely. Black joggers adorn the length of his legs and Hao’s chest swells. Hanbin looks inviting and kind. Warm.

“I have nowhere to be,” Hao exclaims without missing a beat, thrumming with energy.

Hanbin almost flinches at Hao’s eagerness, leaning back slightly and narrowing his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!” Hao virtually shouts. “Absolutely, yes, I’m sure,” he repeats, quieter. “I was just gonna– I thought I heard something at the door, so I came to check.”

Hanbin’s confused expression makes way for amusement, a tiny grin giving the area around his mouth two charming creases. “Sure, okay.”

“So,” Hao begins, enthusiasm coiling around his muscles. He fears Hanbin can tell just how unnaturally excited he is. Judging by the teasing curve of lip, he most definitely can. “What can I do ya for?”

It’s Hanbin’s turn to look out of his element.

“Oh, uh– I just remembered that I, uhm, forgot to attach this little thing to your AC last time. It’s like–” He waves a small object around. It’s a metallic cube of sorts. “Really important.”

“Oh.” Hao deflates. “Of course, yeah, no, come in.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Hanbin walks inside like he’s done many times before. Now that Hao has (almost) gotten over his initial shock, he notices that Hanbin is acting a little differently. He’s tense, his ears a pretty shade of ruby, hands flailing around more than usual.

“Hanbin,” Hao stops him. “Where’s your ladder?”

“Huh?”

“Your ladder. You need it, right? To get up there.”

“Oh!” Hanbin’s entire face flushes, utterly red from his forehead to his chin in an instant. “Oh, I guess I forgot it.” He twists away from Hao, gesturing at his kitchen area. “Is it fine if I take one of your chairs?”

“Sure,” Hao mumbles.

Come to think of it, Hanbin doesn’t even have any tools on him.

The man drags a stool to the spot right below the AC and climbs it hastily, hands disappearing into the appliance.

Hao watches this for a beat, heartbeat picking up, rhythmically stroking his ribcage with every pound.

It’s odd. A pronounced zip goes through Hao’s body and he barely recognizes himself, suddenly overcome with obligation, like he must follow up on this buzz in the atmosphere, this heat encapsulating both of them, lest it catches fire and inevitably burns everything down in its path, leaving only ashy regret for Hao to deal with.

He has to do something.

“Hanbin, why are you here?”

Hanbin’s head stays rooted in front of the panels of the AC. “I told you, hyu– Hao. I forgot to add this.” Avoiding Hao’s stare. “I have to fix it properly.”

“You know,” Hao walks over, inconspicuously sliding up next to the run-down piece of furniture Hanbin is currently perched upon. “I’ve gotten pretty good at telling when my air conditioning’s broken, and when it’s not. I’m fairly sure it isn’t broken anymore. It’s working perfectly fine.”

Silence.

God, Hao hopes he’s right about this.

“Hanbin,” he nearly whispers. “Why are you here?”

The man sighs, gaze forlorn before he squeezes his eyes shut, dropping his head. “I don’t know. I just wanted to see you, Hao.”

Hao’s heart expands in his chest, growing ten times its size with each breath he takes, tinting his insides a bloody and beautifully deep red. Hanbin opens his eyes.

“Okay. You’ve seen me.” Hao manages to catch his gaze, enticed. “Now what?”

It stuns Hanbin, rendering him speechless. He’s endearing, unbearably so, resembling a sweet deer caught in headlights.

Then, a disbelieving smile blossoms across his features, a welcome shift in mood. Understanding appears to dawn on him and he relaxes.

“Well, now, I’d really love to stop tinkering with this thing or I might actually break it.”

Hao laughs, mostly breath, and the sound borders on hysteria. Hanbin makes to move down from the squeaky chair and Hao is quick to grab him by the elbow, keeping him from accidentally slipping and falling. His furniture really shouldn’t be trusted to withstand any kind of prolonged strain.

Belatedly, he notices that he’s touching Hanbin. It’s the first time they’ve ever touched, skin to skin, and Hao’s palm breaks out in sweat as it flits across the warm crook of Hanbin’s arm. It’s a blissful sensation. Something about touching Hanbin is inherently good.

Then, they’re standing face to face. Hao drops his hand.

Hesitation floats right above their heads, weighing down all of time and space, blanketing Hao whole. He can only imagine what Hanbin is feeling right now.

The man’s beseeching scrutiny is focused on him, pupils inky, and Hao can’t look him in the eyes, but he can’t exactly look away either. His line of vision flits downward, regarding Hanbin’s pinkish lips. His body is aching for a taste, begging him to move. He’s never stood this close to the man before. Hao’s face warms and he knows it must show, his mind not unlike a metronome gone haywire, pendulum bouncing between bold and shy almost manically.

“And now?” Hao soldiers on.

Hanbin has to make a move. He needs to take the plunge, or their affinity for each other will hang in this warped sense of limbo forever, eternally stuck.

“Hao,” Hanbin gives in, losing the fight. Or winning it. He says the right thing, once more: “Can I kiss you?”

The ball of trepidation in Hao’s belly bursts and his heartrate only accelerates further, fingers shaking in anticipation.

He nods, mute.

“Can you say yes out loud, please?” Hanbin angles his face, reeling Hao in, leaving him no choice but to peer into his eyes. “This entire time I wasn’t sure if you even like me at all, so it would be really great if you could give me some kind of sign that–“

As it turns out, all Hao had needed this entire time to bare his true emotions, revealing his boundless thirst in a plain display, was someone special. Someone that he undeniably wanted. Someone who was worth it. It didn’t matter if he made a fool of himself or unveiled too much of his disposition, of his palpitating fervor. It didn’t matter if it was Hanbin. Quite the opposite, it was good because it was Hanbin.

“Yes,” Hao cuts him off. “Yes, Hanbin. Kiss me.”

A smile so blinding, so radiant, breaks out on Hanbin’s handsome face that Hao forgets why he needed his air conditioning fixed in the first place — when the unrelenting warmth Hanbin emits, heating up everything in its line of contact, is the greatest thing to exist in the world. Who would ever want to cool it down?

Hanbin leans in and Hao holds his breath. The man pauses right in front of his mouth, minor seconds seeming like entire hours to Hao. Hanbin lightly skims Hao’s lips with his own, reverent, and the skin catches. Hao blows out some excess air from his lungs, trying to calm himself. Knowing that his breath will land right inside of Hanbin’s mouth, mingling with his, he’s weak in the knees.

Hanbin kisses him then, finally.

It’s soft. Hanbin’s lips are very soft. It’s perfectly innocent.

The man is patient, barely moving, waiting for Hao to react, to give him the go.

Hao releases a timid squeak as their closed lips rub and it’s all the confirmation Hanbin needs, backing away and kissing Hao again, in earnest. It’s gratifying and Hao barely hesitates, greedily kissing back, moving and pressing his lips into Hanbin’s inviting ones.

Unconsciously, his hand grips Hanbin’s wrist, tightening around it and tugging lightly in his rush to receive everything Hanbin is willing to give to him, as soon as possible.

Hanbin grants his wish, deliberately tonguing the seam of Hao’s mouth and sighing in relief when Hao allows him in. Hanbin tastes like mint and something sugary which Hao can’t quite identify. It doesn’t matter what it is exactly. All that matters is that Hanbin tastes sweet and so very good, and Hao wants more, pushing in, lavishing Hanbin’s tongue with his own.

Hanbin hums, the sound making a shiver run down Hao’s spine. He slings his arms around Hao’s middle, pulling him snug against his body and tilting his head for better access. It’s like he’s holding up a mirror to all of Hao’s own desires, hungry in the way he’s taking over Hao’s mouth, carefully inserting his tongue into every corner, testing and teasing and tasting.

Hao’s head is thrumming pleasantly and he lays his hands on Hanbin’s chest, lightly tracing the muscles over the shirt like he’s imagined himself doing more times than he cares to admit.

In response, Hanbin tightens the grip around his waist and Hao can’t help the gargled noise from escaping him, thankfully muffled by Hanbin and his sublime mouth.

The man pulls back slowly, not before maddeningly nibbling on Hao’s bottom lip and leaving a satisfying sting of pain in his wake.

Hanbin is breathless when he asks him, face flushed, eyes shining, lips debauched: “You’ve kissed before?”

“Yeah,” Hao rasps, heaving, barely registering Hanbin’s question. He just wants the man back on him. Why is he stopping? “There’ve been some guys.”

It was nothing extraordinary or worth mentioning. There was the boy in middle school who he had thought he had liked at the time. He was clearly mistaken about that if liking someone really felt like this. There was another man, once, in a club during his first week in Seoul when he was feeling especially insecure and pathetic about his situation.

“I see,” Hanbin replies, catching his breath. He tries to hide it, but Hao is delighted to find that he looks mildly displeased.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Hanbin mumbles. “Just don’t think about them.”

A giddy giggle tumbles out of Hao. It’s ridiculous that Hanbin would even consider it a possibility, Hao thinking of anybody else right now ­— when Hanbin is everything he’s been able to think about, day in and day out.

Hanbin leans in again, searing mouth on Hao’s in an instant and hands digging into his waist, guiding him backward, toward the wall right below the AC. The device allows for cool air to flit across his hair. Hao doesn’t really notice however, body burning immeasurably hot, as if someone had just poured a pot of boiling water over him, blistering his skin and making him crazy. At once, he craves it all — Hanbin’s arms, his hands, his neck and his shoulders. Hao traps Hanbin’s hips with a leg, eager and uncaring about it.

Hanbin is wet and meticulous in his mouth, flitting across his teeth and biting at his lips. In a stroke of genius, the man sucks on Hao’s tongue and Hao melts, shuddering against Hanbin’s comforting body unevenly. He feels feverish, heat pooling in his lower stomach, crowded against the wall. He guides his hands into Hanbin’s hair, playing with the strands adorning his nape while Hanbin continues kneading his waist. There’s a rumble in his chest and he grinds forward once, into Hanbin’s solid upper thigh, leg still thrown around him.

“Hao.” Hanbin breaks their kiss, gasping for air. Spit-slicked and ruby red. Hao can’t believe his luck.

He won’t have another interruption though, swiftly ducking into Hanbin’s neck and mouthing at his jaw filthily, faint traces of stubble tickling him on his way.

“Hao, wait.” Hanbin gently tilts his head up, careful fingers on his chin. “Hey,” he smiles.

“Hey.”

“I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Hanbin starts.

Hao almost snorts. If his half-boner pressing directly into Hanbin’s tantalizing muscle is anything to go by, he is more than okay with how things are currently progressing. Before he can voice this, Hanbin carries on.

“I’m serious.” He pulls his dark brows together in the way Hao has come to love. “I want to do this right, Hao. I really like you. For real.” Hanbin gulps, hands firm on his body. “And I don’t wanna rush things and ruin them just because I can’t keep it together around you.”

Hao ignores the entirety of the first part. “You can’t keep it together around me?”

Hanbin fixes him with a deadpan stare. “Hardly,” he states matter-of-factly.

At Hao’s big eyes, pleading for Hanbin to elaborate, he sighs.

“I can’t believe that you didn’t immediately notice. I feel like I came onto you a lot,” he chuckles nervously. “You sorta rejected me each time but I just kept going.” Hanbin looks off to the side before zeroing in on Hao again. “I guess I liked you too much to stop.”

There’s an embarrassing whine playing at the bottom of Hao’s vocal cords but he decidedly suppresses it. “What do you like about me?”

He knows he’s being greedy. Again, he does not care.

A lovely blush appears on the roundness of Hanbin’s cheeks. He strokes up and down Hao’s sides and it’s comforting. “Are we really doing this?” His timid voice asks.

Hao can’t help himself. “Please?”

It’s mostly breath when Hanbin laughs. “Well, first of all, you’re really smart and I like that. Going to university and always reading and whatnot.” He ducks down to give Hao a chaste peck. “And I really like talking to you. It just kind of made click whenever we spoke to each other.” At this, a weight sitting on Hao’s chest which he didn’t even notice was there, lifts. Good thing Hanbin is holding onto him, or he would’ve floated away. “And also, uhm.” He squeezes Hao once. “You’re really pretty. Really beautiful. Distractingly so.”

And with that, Hao comes to life, blooming beneath Hanbin’s light.

It happens unconsciously when he leans forward, kissing the man’s addictive lips once more and keeping any pathetic noises from breaking free.

“Hanbin, I really like you too,” he confesses when he leans back, taking a calming breath. “And I wanna do this right too.” He lets his hands fall back onto Hanbin’s sturdy chest, stroking over it sluggishly. “But right now, I really want this.” Casting a glance at Hanbin, he looks up through his lashes. “If you’ll give it to me, that is.”

Hanbin makes a sound, almost pained. “Of course, Hao. Anything,” he says through his teeth.

Not a single second passes and Hanbin is back on him, licking a stripe up Hao’s neck and kissing down the trail of spit fervently. Hao shuts his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek, trying to tame his ardor, as Hanbin grabs at his thigh, the leg still securely wrapped around him. He kneads it for a moment and Hao can’t stop the twitch of his hips, all his blood rushing south. It leaves him dizzy and panting, Hanbin handling him as if he was meant for it.

The man doesn’t seem to mind his trembling, instead holding onto Hao’s thigh with more vigor and lifting him in the process. Disbelieving, Hao opens his eyes. Hanbin couldn’t possibly be trying to… Nevertheless, he catches the hint, springing up, and Hanbin catches his other leg as well, carrying him easily and pressing him back into the wall. He holds Hao in the air by his thighs as if he doesn’t weigh a pound, barely straining his muscles, fingers temptingly spread right below the curve of his ass.

Hao is surrounded by Hanbin, by his body, by his scent, a hint of fabric softener and a tang of wood, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re really strong,” he mumbles dumbly, head thrown back while Hanbin takes his earlobe into his mouth, faintly grazing it with his teeth. Thanks to his position, Hao can clearly hear Hanbin’s sharp intake of breath. “So strong.”

He might not verbally respond but Hao can tell he’s pleased, feeling the small smile against the sensitive skin right by his ear, the man completely buried in his neck.

Urgently, another wave of arousal crashes over Hao, leaving no room for any thoughts besides those concerning Hanbin. He really wants to see him naked. It’s such a primal need, nearly humiliating, and it overpowers every other noise in his mind.

“Hanbin. Bed,” he orders.

Hanbin follows, turning away from the wall and carrying Hao effortlessly. Trying to offer some support where it’s clearly not needed, Hao wraps his arms around his neck securely. He’s walked across his own room, barely aware of where he is. He doesn’t even remember his own name. All he sees is Hanbin, the flushed face right in front of his own, and just because he can, he leans in to leave kisses down his throat, bending his own neck at an uncomfortable angle. It’s not so bad though — worth getting closer for. Connected through their pants, their fronts rub, and Hao hisses against Hanbin’s collarbones.

At last, Hanbin lowers him, carefully laying Hao down as if he’s to be handled with heed, delicate. In a less graceful motion, he promptly tilts away and pulls his shirt over his head in one swift go.

Breath growing heavy, Hao looks up at Hanbin standing by the edge of the bed.

The telltale signs of an oncoming blush make themselves known, crawling up Hao’s cheeks. He isn’t even bothered by it, too taken with the sight of him, tall and bare — a vision.

The man smiles at him, a little shy under the attention. There’s another quality to the stretch of his lips, edges fine as he asks, “You like it?”

Sure, Hao has seen half-naked men before. Locker rooms, beaches, his family’s back yard in the summer. On tv and in porn. However, none of them were Hanbin. How embarrassing, Hao thinks, as his mouth basically salivates at the view of Hanbin’s pronounced pectorals, shoulders wide and sturdy. His muscles aren’t chiseled but it’s obvious in the way the skin taunts over his torso that there’s strength to Hanbin’s body, Hao one of the first people to attest to that.

Faced with him in this glorious state of undress, Hao can only nod curtly, face beet-red he’s sure.

“God, why are you so cute?” Hanbin practically coos. He takes one of Hao’s hands, lifting it, and Hao along with it, so that he’s sitting up. The afternoon sun has bled into a more forgiving glare, painting the apartment in muted golden hues and lenient shadows, and he watches as Hanbin places his palm right below his tattoo gingerly, over his heart. Hao can feel the way it pounds wildly, a rapid beat. “Feel free to touch.” He takes a step closer toward Hao. “I’m all yours.”

It’s like music to his ears and he doesn’t need to be told twice, nodding again before dragging the hand down Hanbin’s upper body, over a nipple and toward his lean abdomen, stopping at his navel. Hanbin keeps his hands at his sides, leaving Hao to do as he pleases. He appreciates the gesture.

The man’s stomach rises and falls with each deep breath he takes, tensing abruptly whenever Hao presses in, and there’s nothing more than static playing in Hao’s brain as he angles his face forward, leaving open-mouthed kisses along Hanbin’s belly, the soft hairs of his happy trail teasing his chin.

Morbid curiosity eats at Hao. What did Hanbin taste like in other places? What did he feel like in his mouth? How come there are a select few lucky people on this earth who already know the answers to these important questions and yet, Hao doesn’t.

In the past, he used to think that it was a bit demeaning, getting down on your knees for someone to suck them off. Still, it’s not like he’s never wanted to try it, despite his general aversion to the idea.

As he inclines his head, trailing his gaze up the length of Hanbin’s enticing figure, studying the glow casted around the man’s dark hair by the bright overhead lights, creating an ethereal sort of halo around him, he realizes there’s little he wouldn’t do for Hanbin in this moment.

He’s godly, otherworldly, a deity to a longing and desperate Hao who has never pined for anything more than to be loved, desired.

And once the thought festers in his brain, Hao can’t take it back anymore. He needs Hanbin like he needs air to breathe and water to drink; like he needs a roof over his head and food on the table. He wants him so bad, has wanted him all his life, and only now has he found him. Hanbin is everything and Hao wants.

There’s no hesitance when he drops to the floor, already halfway into untying the complicated knot holding Hanbin’s sweatpants up, when his actions catch up to the man in front of him.

“Oh. Hao,” he breathes, his hand quick to cradle Hao’s face. “I want this to just be about you, okay? You don’t have to do anything.”

Hao gapes upward, hands clasped together, on his knees, and it’s a little bit like praying. “Hanbin, silly, this is about me. And about you too, so stop worrying please.” At last, the knot comes undone and he pulls Hanbin’s washed-out joggers down impatiently, his boxers going right along with them. “I’ll let you know if I’m uncomfortable with anything, okay?”

Hanbin remarks something in reply but it goes right over Hao’s head, his line of vision turned into a narrow tunnel, attention wholly focused on Hanbin’s dick, only mere inches from his open mouth.

It’s Hanbin’s dick. He’s looking at Hanbin’s dick.

Clean. Neatly shaven. For lack of a better word, it looks nice. As inviting as the rest of Hanbin.

Cautiously, Hao wraps his fingers around it, touch feathery light. It’s half-hard, a blushing red at the tip and heavy in his hand. Bigger than Hao himself, but not by much.

Pretty. He must be going crazy.

“Hao,” Hanbin gasps, hands flexing into fists.

It’s like Hao’s been enwrapped in a mystical daze, a shimmery curtain dancing in front of his eyes, and he pays him no mind, stuck in his own world. He strokes Hanbin’s length idly, not in the way he knows would bring pleasure, no jerk of the wrist. No, he just holds him at first, testing the way he feels different in his palm from his own length.

Right at the tip, Hao wishes to leave a kiss and so he does, and then again, along the side of Hanbin’s steadily thickening dick. It smells only faintly musky, he appreciatively realizes. Hanbin strokes his cheek then, bringing him back to reality, cushioning the side of his face and thumbing at his ear lazily while Hao keeps going.

The touch spurs him on and he widens his lips, licking Hanbin’s lovely tip into his mouth. There’s a tinge of saltiness. It’s nothing special and tastes completely regular, so really, Hao shouldn’t like it as much as he does.

But he likes it.

A lot.

Tongue flat against his shaft, he sinks down further and Hanbin’s length continues to grow. Blazing hot liquid seeps into Hao’s abdomen at the satisfying sensation. He’s responsible for that.

“Fuck, Hao…” Hanbin trails off, his fingers now buried deep into Hao’s velvety strands. The pressure is heavenly, tying him to Hanbin, making him feel like he fits.

All ideas of decorum tossed out the window, he takes him as far as he can, breathing through his nose raggedly and letting the taste of Hanbin fill every one of his senses, the weight of him murky on his tongue and against the back of his throat. Hao gags, once and then twice, yet he doesn’t stop, even as fat drops of drool steadily drip out of the stretched corners of his lips, even as Hanbin slightly tightens his hold, blunt nails scraping his skull. He’s surprised to find that he enjoys it, the ache in his jaw, the fullness in his mouth, the grip in his hair, and he speeds up, bobbing his head as Hanbin gasps brokenly. It goes straight to Hao’s erection.

It might faintly sting, having Hanbin entirely down his throat, and the tears in his eyes are making it hard to see clearly, but Hanbin’s reactions, his sharp inhales and soft moans, are too good for Hao to stop now. He buries the button of his nose in the short pubes embellishing Hanbin’s length, messy and ready to please. As his fingers dig into the burly muscle of Hanbin’s upper thighs, he senses how tense they are, how hard Hanbin is holding himself back from moving in any way. It only makes Hao want to try harder.

Determined, he slowly moves back up, swirling his tongue around Hanbin in titillating circles. There’s no tangible rhythm to Hao’s actions and he knows it’s sloppy, his slick mouth still getting used to being filled. He hopes that Hanbin likes it anyway. Judging by his raspy wheezing, notably and startlingly high in pitch, he most definitely does. Mollified, Hao wraps his hand around the rest of his length, met with an abundance of spit, and jerks Hanbin while he sucks on his sensitive tip mercilessly.

“Fuck!”

Hao has no chance to smirk in his small victory, forcefully pulled off Hanbin’s cock in the blink of an eye. “Hao, baby.” Towering over him with harsh shadows on his face, Hanbin resembles someone who’s been punched in the gut hard, brows drawn tightly and features tense. Both his thumbs flit across the plumpness of Hao’s cheeks tenderly, gathering the tears that have managed to escape. “Baby, you need to slow down. Come here.”

There’s an insistent ringing in his ears, the unexpected term of endearment paired with the traces of Hanbin in his mouth making it difficult to form coherent thoughts. The man pulls him up dexterously and before he can register it, he kisses him, fully and deeply. Hao is giddy with the knowledge that Hanbin can probably taste himself on his tongue. It’s sloppy and wet, the way they slide against each other, just like Hao’s first try at a blow-job, and it makes him even giddier.

When Hanbin leans back, there’s a wonderous glint in his eyes and a tempting string of spit connecting both their ruined lips. “You’re fucking crazy,” he mumbles before he reaches for the hem of Hao’s shirt. “Your turn?”

“Yeah,” Hao replies.

The shirt is off a second later and Hanbin gradually guides him by his shoulders, onto the bed. The unmade sheets elicit a brief shock in Hao, the sudden cold disorienting against the heat of his back. It passes swiftly as he’s wrapped up in Hanbin’s unyielding warmth, the man fitting himself right between Hao’s legs and caging his head between his forearms. Hao can’t imagine a more comfortable position.

“You’re gorgeous,” Hanbin murmurs while his face disappears, angling himself toward Hao’s chest. There, he leaves an endless number of lewd kisses across his torso, pausing to playfully nibble on his collarbones. Hao’s breaths grow more shallow with every zealous press of his lips and Hanbin arrives at one of his nipples. Mischievously, he blows on it first before dragging his mouth against the nub. Hao gasps, nerves set alight, the sensation foreign yet very welcome. In an attempt to ground himself, he digs one hand into Hanbin’s sturdy shoulder and the other into his dark mane.

Hanbin casts a hungry glance up at him and it leaves Hao winded. His eyes are hopelessly black and exceedingly roused, and he smiles sharply. Now, Hao is certain it’s not Hanbin’s intention to outright make him feel like prey. But he feels it either way. “So sensitive, baby,” Hanbin smirks and it hits Hao right in his stomach.

A humiliating keen flees him and he slaps a palm over his traitorous mouth straight away, flustered. Hanbin ducks down once more, swirling his devilish tongue around his stiff nipple and making it perk up to impossible degrees, teasing the other brown nub with the rough pad of his thumb. He’s clearly skilled and Hao doesn’t currently possess the necessary brain capacity to unpack his thoughts regarding that. Switching over to the other nipple, Hanbin scrapes his teeth against the tautness of it. Hao’s body twitches through Hanbin’s relentless ministrations pitifully, unable to help it when his once salvageable hums change into revealing moans.

The man finds too much enjoyment in it for Hao’s liking, chuckling softly as he carries on further down, licking a fat stripe up Hao’s lower belly, to his navel, and dipping his tongue in. “What are we gonna do, Hao? You already like this too much. I’ve barely even done anything.”

“Shut up,” Hao complains in protest, voice weak. He throws an arm over his face and simultaneously cants his hips up while Hanbin toys with the strings of his pants, actions contradicting each other.

“Hao, I’m just kidding. I really wanna see you.” Mindfully, he draws Hao’s arm back. “And also hear you. Don’t hold back, okay?”

Hao peers at Hanbin through half-lidded eyes, the man’s hair wildly unkempt from where he’d buried his hand in it, his delectable lips a shiny cherry, well-kissed, Hao thinks to himself proudly.

“Okay,” he grants his request.

Satisfied, Hanbin focuses back on the task at hand. As if Hao would ever deny him, he turns to him with pleading eyes. Achingly cute. Hao’s cock pulsates feebly. “Can I?”

He nods, naturally.

At that, he’s gifted with one of Hanbin’s all-encompassing smiles, dipping his features in liquified happiness and blazing light. Hao is a slave to the sight, disbelieving that he’s endowed with its beam.

At last, Hanbin slides his pants off slowly, ever so slowly. His boxers are next, after Hanbin confirms with Hao another time.

With that, he’s completely naked.

Hanbin is propped up on his knees by Hao’s ankles, silently trailing his view down Hao’s form, expression unreadable.

It’s strange, having someone else see him entirely bare, utterly vulnerable.

Unexpectedly, he feels relieved.

Hao highly doubts he could’ve borne the reality of being this exposed to anyone but Hanbin. In a broader sense, his relief pertains to the gloomy clump of atrocity safely hidden within the depths of his chest. Hao knows for certain that he’s been ready, wholly and absolutely — to crave, and more importantly, to be craved in return. It’s both daunting and exciting, having it come to life, in the flesh, right before his eyes, appeasing the nasty beast inside of him.

The more time passed, the more Hao felt like a ripe fruit, heavy on a precarious branch, brimming with juice and flavor, set to be picked and bitten into.

And Hanbin was here for him. Hungry for him. Prepared to bite, to eat, to feast; to take what’s been saved for him all along.

“So beautiful,” Hanbin murmurs. His expression is scrunched, rigid, as he shakes his head. Then, he stares into Hao’s eyes, imploring, like he’ll die if Hao doesn’t understand. “You’re so beautiful,” he repeats.

Diligently, he lays his hands around Hao’s ankles and starts running them up the expanse of his legs. He’s detailed, taking his time, brushing over every inch of uncovered skin. Stopping at his upper thighs, right where Hao thirsts for him the most, Hanbin leans back down to hold one of his feet up, leaving a chaste press of lips on the inside of his ankle. It’s reverent, the way the kisses up Hao’s calves, the way he lingeringly massages his thighs, the way he peers up at Hao like he’s divine, someone to be worshipped and cherished. His earnest countenance makes Hao avert his gaze, bashful, feeling as though he’s undeserving of Hanbin’s affection.

Unperturbed, Hanbin continues on, mouthing at Hao’s thighs. He buries his teeth into the thin skin on the inner part of the muscle and Hao pants. It doesn’t hurt. Everything Hanbin is doing to him feels good.

Hanbin lets up and, buried between his legs, he mumbles quietly, “I can’t believe nobody else has ever seen you like this before.”

Something in Hao’s chest flutters.

Then, a moment passes and the thought begins to irk him.

I can’t believe someone else has seen you like this before, he counters mentally, miffed.

Hanbin abruptly halts his caressing.

Oh. Did he say that out loud?

At once, Hanbin’s face is in front of his own, the only thing in view. Hao doesn’t get the chance to laugh off the overbearing comment, suggesting a possessiveness that he’s not sure he’s quite entitled to experiencing yet, because Hanbin kisses his cheek.

“Don’t say that.” He leans back up. “Really, this is special for me too.” Another press, this time to his mouth. Hao feels an awful lot like a sulky puppy being appeased by its owner. “I swear.”

“Sure.”

There’s a stern curve to his brow, dissatisfied with Hao’s assessment of his sincerity.

“Here, give me your hand.”

Without waiting for Hao’s reply, Hanbin reaches for it on his own and places it over his chest, reminiscent of what he did earlier. Hao’s fingertips graze the shape of the sun beneath Hanbin’s sternum closely. The strong beat of Hanbin’s heart is still drumming in brisk succession, comfortingly vibrating against his palm.

“See? You might find it hard to believe, but I’m usually way more cool and put-together. Just not around you. My heart hasn’t slowed down once since I got here.”

The flames steadily growing in Hao’s groin travel up to his face and he smiles despite himself. “You should really get that checked out.”

“Oh, shut up,” Hanbin mutters, without heat.

It seems like he can’t get enough of Hao’s lips, licking into his mouth filthily again while covering Hao’s entire body with his own. Hao isn’t one to complain, at least not when it comes to this, and kisses back wantonly, enjoying Hanbin’s weight on him, pressing him down in all the right places. He moves his leg and feels Hanbin’s hard erection drift across his upper thigh. Chasing him, he grinds upward, moaning against Hanbin as his cock is met with some fervently awaited relief. In an instant, Hanbin has a bruising hold on his hip, forbidding further movement, and Hao almost wails.

“How do you wanna do this?” Hanbin asks, barely an inch from Hao’s lips, as if he can’t bear to pull himself farther away.

Hao knows what he wants. Had known it from the moment he’d laid his eyes on Hanbin.

“I want you to fuck me if that’s okay.”

Hanbin chokes. Angling his face away from Hao and into the crook of his elbow, he coughs several times. The poor thing.

When he comes back up, his face is a charmingly fiery red, eyes twinkling at Hao in barely concealed fervor. “Are you sure? We don’t have to, you know. We can just do other stuff first.”

“No,” Hao decidedly shuts him down. He reaches for him, grabbing a hold of Hanbin’s erection once more, now comfortable and familiar in his hand. Stroking it weakly, he whispers, “I really want you in me.”

In lieu of an answer, Hanbin mewls lowly, quick to bury himself in Hao’s neck. For a moment, he bites into the tendon, before licking over it soothingly. With determination, he faces Hao.

“Anything you want, baby.” Perfect for him. “Can you get on your hands and knees for me?”

Hao’s stomach swoops, the simple words having a mortifying effect on him. His body reacts faster than his mind, already following Hanbin’s request without thinking twice. Immediately, he’s face down and ass up.

“Oh, Hao,” Hanbin mumbles. “It’s crazy how perfect you are.” He runs his hands up Hao’s ass, uncouth and rugged, flitting across the dips of his lower back and drifting back down to squeeze his cheeks, kneading the supple muscle. “Fuck.”

“Hanbin,” he whimpers, terribly flustered by Hanbin’s crass treatment and by the consequential wave of arousal it spills over his senses, cock agonizingly erect against his stomach.

Hanbin stays undeterred, dragging one of his cheeks to the side and biting into it. Hao yelps and Hanbin swiftly lavishes his tongue over the patch of skin, thorough as ever. He pulls back, “You have lube, right?”

Hao doesn’t dignify him with a reply, just reaches inside the drawer of his nightstand and chucks his beloved bottle of strawberry flavor back at Hanbin. His cheeks burn as he realizes that two thirds of it are empty. If Hanbin notices, he spares Hao any acknowledgement of this.

“I love strawberry,” he sighs instead, and Hao can only hear the obscene squelching of the liquid, the wet noises as Hanbin prepares his fingers. There’s excitement floating through his veins, ever so slightly tilting over into anxiety, and he tries to relax, focusing on a small dot on his headboard, on Hanbin’s uneven breaths, on the natural warmth he emits. Caught off guard, Hao jerks away when the gel-like component first hits his hole.

“Oh sorry,” Hanbin apologizes right away, stroking a soothing palm over the line of his waist. “I forgot to warn you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Keep going.”

“Okay.”

He’s unable to see Hanbin’s face from this position and it’s a little unnerving, but he’s promptly distracted by the finger dancing around his rim again, stroking up and down, spreading the lube. He knows Hanbin’s teasing him, circling his hole weakly, and he’s about to protest when the finger slides inside, unhurried.

Hao has fingered himself before, so it’s not an entirely novel experience. It’s still new to have it be someone else’s finger, Hanbin’s, marginally thicker than his own and out of his control. He pushes in slowly, in no rush, and Hao drops his head, the intrusion a welcome one.

“You’re tight.” Hanbin’s voice is strained when he speaks. Cautiously, he eases the digit in and out and Hao hums. He’s always enjoyed this part and it’s even better now. Hanbin lays his hand flat on Hao’s spine and guides him further down, giving his back an arch. “Fuck, Hao…” he hears him rasp. “I wish you could see yourself right now.”

Hao keeps his mouth shut and only shakes his head, incredulous about his current predicament. Hanbin loosens him expertly, though slowly, far more skilled than Hao’s clumsy fingers. One of his digits flits across his perineum, massaging it, and it’s so good. Hao shuts his eyes tightly, pushing back against Hanbin, begging for more.

“It’s okay, baby.” Hanbin’s clean hand wanders, squeezing his waist. “You’re doing perfect.”

The praise goes straight to his dick and Hao sighs, pliant to Hanbin’s touches, to his words.

Another finger glides into Hao and he has half a mind to feel embarrassed about how easily he’s taking Hanbin. The man holds him steady while he prods at Hao’s walls, intent on taking his sanity apart one leaden stroke at a time. It doesn’t take long for him to find Hao’s prostate; he only grazes it gently however, gone in an instant, evil, and Hao sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and mewls. Why is Hanbin so good at this?

There’s a lethal snicker behind him and Hao lets the shame he feels at his enthusiasm invade his bones, heating him up even more. “You’re so responsive,” Hanbin muses. “You’ve fingered yourself before, yes?”

“Uh-huh,” Hao manages. It’s mean — asking him questions while feeding his fingers into his entrance at a harrowingly slow pace. He barely registers the follow-up.

Hanbin hums appreciatively. “You do it a lot?”

Mindless, Hao nods, swaying along with Hanbin’s fingers, urging him to go faster, aiming to get him deeper.

“Really?” Hanbin wraps his unoccupied arm around Hao’s torso, finding his nipple and pinching it, playing with him. “You ever think about me?”

Hao moans and it’s a tragic noise. He wishes Hanbin would stop talking, leave him with some of his declining dignity for keeps.

“Yeah, baby?” He crowds him in, his erection digging into the back of Hao’s thigh, alarmingly hard. “You imagined it was my hand instead?” A whisper against his ear. “My body on yours?” Littered kisses across his neck. “My cock inside of you?” A peck in the middle of his spine.

“Yes,” Hao confesses. He’s already too far gone, pliable and weak. “Yes, thought of you.”

“Oh, Hao…” he trails off and pushes a third finger in unceremoniously.

It’s all so unbelievably much. Hanbin’s continuous words, the added stretch, the need scorching his stomach from the inside, the fullness of his dick. His dying wish for Hanbin to just get on with it.

Hanbin’s face is nuzzled against his ass as he babbles on, “Thought of you too while I touched myself. Of your pretty face and pretty lips. Stretched around me. Trying to make me fit.” He mouths along the inside of one of his cheeks. “Of your pretty body. Burying myself in you. Being your first.”

Hao chokes on a cry. He could die right here.

As if it’s not already enough, suddenly there’s a soft muscle tickling his rim.

It’s Hanbin’s tongue.

“Hanbin,” Hao wails, desperate and whiny, spasming uncontrollably.

It’s foreign. Hao has always wondered what it must feel like. None of his imaginations measure up to the real thing however, lusciously warm and moist against his heat. There’s more sweat trailing down his body, seeking to regulate his rising temperature, but it’s too late — Hao has inched his way too close to the sun, an indelible flame ignited in him.

Hanbin anchors him through his writhing, lapping at Hao’s hole like a starved man. He dips his tongue in while he spreads his fingers apart, urging Hao toward his doubtless demise. Dropping his face into the pillow, he drools against the cotton, unable to hold himself up. It’s overwhelming, yet he still wants more, longs to touch himself and bring an end to this ceaseless swelter. But he refrains.

Hao feels dirty — on all fours for Hanbin, eyes hazy, legs sprawled apart, irredeemably stripped.

The hot tongue continues to lick into him, opening him up obscenely, and Hao can tell there’s a crude mix of lube and spit coating his skin.

He might be dirty, but it’s not bad. This feeling couldn’t possibly be bad.

Hanbin is the only person he would ever get dirty for, he’s sure. Dirty for Hanbin, whose personality is so clean and so pure, so nice and so kind, that he balances Hao’s filth right out.

But as he casts a curious glance back at the man, who’s come up to take a breather from shoving his tongue into Hao, his fingers keeping up their lazy pace, maddeningly drifting along his insides, saliva covering his chin, strawberry lube around his mouth, eyes ablaze, dick standing up red and proud — Hao thinks that Hanbin might be a little dirty too.

It’s okay, though. Two negatives equal one positive, right?

“Hao, if you want, you can just come like this.” Hanbin looks transfixed, languidly thrusting in an out of him. It’s not enough. Hao wonders if it ever could be. “I’d love it if you came on my tongue.”

He clenches down on Hanbin’s fingers, the mere idea making his hole flutter. Hanbin smiles, all teeth.

“I don’t think I can come twice.”

“That’s okay. We can always stop.”

He must be crazy.

Hanbin’s cock is still fully erect, inviting, begging to be cared for. Pretty. Why would he even suggest such a ridiculous thing?

“You’ve gone insane if you think I’m not getting fucked by you, Hanbin,” he groans, having found his voice again. His head is twisted at a weird angle as he maintains his stare on the man’s form. “I’m good. Besides, I want you to feel good too.”

“Trust me, Hao.” Hanbin presses into his prostate dead-on, stroking it like he means it. With a dizzying rush of pleasure, Hao jolts. God. He cants his hips blindly, hunting the thrill. “I’ve never felt better. We have all the time in the world. We don’t have to do everything now.”

“Oh, but we have to.” And with that, Hao flips onto his back.

He winces as Hanbin’s digits slip out of him gruffly, their presence dearly missed. However, he can’t hold out any longer. It’s been too much time since he’s last gotten a good view of Hanbin and when he peers up at him, he feels almost hysterical in his longing. Hanbin’s dark eyes sparkle and his cheeks are tinted pink. He looks dazed, face and body shining with sweat. Hao doesn’t know what he looks like but judging by the way Hanbin is drinking up the picture of him greedily, encapsulating his waist in both his palms, territorial as he tightens his hold, excessive and oh so arousing, he reasons that he must be in a somewhat similar state of indecency.

“Fuck me now, okay?”

Hanbin only nods and the next moments pass by Hao in a flash, watching Hanbin fish a condom out of his wallet, pulling it over his length, lubing it up, aligning himself with his entrance.

Because he’s Hanbin and he’s a darling, he asks Hao if he’s okay, if he’s comfortable, if he wants to keep going. It’s equal parts absurd as it is cute. Needless to say, he reassures him every step of the way.

In the dead quiet of the room, the beat of Hao’s heart, a firm thump thump thump, is the only sound he can make out. Hanbin takes a tender hold of his hand, kissing him sweetly on the lips as he teases Hao’s puffy rim with his cockhead.

Finally, he sinks himself in.

Oh god.

In tandem, they gasp into each other’s mouths.

Their voices are breathy, their kiss frenzied, barely even a kiss.

Hanbin’s cock is bigger than he had thought. It feels infinitely larger now as he strains his walls, stretching him in a way he’s never known before.

Still going so slow.

After what feels like forever, Hanbin bottoms out, balls snug against the curve of his ass. It’s only then that Hao can take a breath, however labored and short.

He feels so full, close to too full. Stuffed to the brim and then some. It’s a lot and it burns, but Hao does his best to relax.

“Fuck, baby,” Hanbin pants, wet in his ear. “So tight, baby. Feels so good.”

“Hanbin,” he pleads, tone hushed. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for but he’s certain Hanbin will give it to him either way.

“Don’t worry, love.” Hao clenches reflexively at the term of endearment, dick perking up. “I’ll take care of you.”

Hanbin pulls out, careful, like Hao could break at any moment, and glides back inside just as attentively.

Hao’s jaw falls slack with a silent wail hanging from his mouth. In the back of his throat, he can taste Hanbin. In the pit of his stomach, he can feel him. It’s a little uncomfortable, a little painful, being filled this unabashedly and his hips tremble, unable to handle the riling sensation.

“Hanbinnie,” he whines, shaking his head from left to right. “It’s so big. Hanbin, it’s so big.”

Hanbin gathers him in his strong arms, hugging him closely as he gives Hao more time to adjust. Petting his head, he shushes him, “It’s okay baby, I got you.”  

Seeking to distract him, Hanbin nestles into his neck, exploring every inch of his ticklish throat with his tongue. He nips on a spot right below his ear and Hao’s breath hitches in his chest. “It’s gonna feel really good soon, I promise.”

Unrushed, Hanbin starts up the movement of his hips again and Hao can’t help the miniscule feeling of dejection settling in his heart. He expected something different, unconsciously and naively, and he’s not sure he enjoys this part as much, the shift of Hanbin’s cock inside of him neither here nor there.

That is until Hanbin angles his body, leaning in just so, and rocking his length straight into Hao’s sweet spot. His mind completely flatlines, thoughts dulled by the delectable drag.

A bone-crushing surge travels through his limbs. Hao cries out, back arching off the bed, into Hanbin who’s there to cradle him.

Scrap what he thought during his brief moment of foolishness, a clear lapse in judgement. It’s good.

It’s so good and Hao sobs, scrambling to dig his fingers into Hanbin’s back and pulling him further in.

“Shh,” Hanbin coos at him, a stark contrast between his gentle caressing of Hao’s sides and the dirty grind of his hips, thrusting into him languidly. “Good?”

“So good, Binnie,” Hao whimpers, tone unfamiliar to his own ears. “So good. Ah– Fuck!”

Hanbin groans and the low sound reverberates in Hao’s body as more precum trickles out of his sore cock, straining against his abdomen.

Hao wants more, ravenous, and without thinking, it slips out of his mouth: “Binnie, are you clean?”

Hanbin falters, rhythm lost and erection giving a helpless throb pressed inside of Hao. He leans back and his eyes are adorably rounded, blinking perplexedly. “You mean, like, if I’m clean?”

“Yeah.”

Greedily, he studies Hanbin’s adam’s apple, bobbing in a big gulp.

“Y– Yes,” he blunders. “I got tested two weeks ago and I haven’t– I haven’t been with anyone since.”

Only two weeks. Hao nearly laughs. The jealousy stings, the mental image of Hanbin doing the same things to somebody else horribly jarring to him.

He doesn’t want to dwell on it, warding off the thoughts, the searing pinch in his chest fading while he focuses on Hanbin, on the grasp around his waist, on the place where their bodies connect.

“I mean,” he musters. “I’m obviously clean, since… You know.” Hao waves a hand around in vain. “Do you maybe wanna, uhm, ditch the condom?”

His cheeks are still so scorchingly hot, even after everything they’ve already done. He fears they might peel right off.

It’s all worth it though to watch Hanbin’s expression, frantically jumping from emotion to emotion in split seconds. There’s disbelief and hesitance. Fascination and anticipation. And ultimately, Hao’s personal favorite: lust.

“You want that?” The tentative voice reaches his ears.

“Yes,” Hao immediately replies. He’s asking for everything Hanbin could possibly offer him and that no-so-shockingly includes his cum in his ass. “Yeah, I really want that.”

Hanbin succumbs to his wish and pulls out of Hao a tad too swiftly, causing him to flinch.

“Sorry baby.”

Keenly, Hanbin sits back and rids himself of the affronting condom. Hao observes everything, enraptured. Hanbin’s dick gives a bounce between his legs as he lubes himself up anew. The ghost of Hanbin’s cock tickles the base of his throat when he follows the actions of his thumb, tapping against the sticky precum leaking out of the tip and spreading it all over his length, mixing it with the strawberry-flavored gel in a downright obscene way.

Hanbin moans softly and so does Hao, his erection so hard it’s veering into the edge of pain.

In a daze, he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until Hanbin is pushed up against his headboard by one of his hands on his shoulder, sitting on the mattress and peering up at Hao in marvel, expression stumped.

“I just need to–” He cuts himself off, crawling into Hanbin’s lap, a thigh on each side of him. Without any great preamble or further contemplation, Hao reaches down to grab his dick, sinking down on it in one go. “Oh god.”

Oh god.

Hao likes this.

The stretch still punches a pitiful gasp out of him and he scurries to cling to Hanbin’s broad shoulders, aiming to steady himself.

In this position, Hanbin’s cock trails along his walls mouth-wateringly well with no offensive texture separating them, and Hao loses his mind a bit. Experimentally, he rolls his hips and looks down.

Hanbin is studying him with devotion is his wondrous gaze, groping his hips in a hold which he fears might bruise later. Hopes might bruise later.

A sliver of petulance in him toys with the idea of giving Hanbin some well-deserved payback for going so torturously slow the whole time. However, all complex deliberations and rational thoughts evade him, leaving behind nothing but a primal craving for Hanbin as he moves in tight circles around the man’s cock, feeling it pulse. Hao’s muscles contract and he can’t even blame himself for the sounds spilling out of his lips endlessly, high-pitched moans growing in volume with every brush against his prostate, every squeeze of Hanbin’s palms, every breathless groan in response to his involuntary clenching.

“Fuck, Hao. You feel so good,” Hanbin rasps. “You’re so tight. So hot. Taking me so well.” A hand of his flits upward, cupping Hao’s jaw delicately, angling his face so that he has no choice but to reciprocate Hanbin’s stare. “You like it? Makes you feel good, baby?”

Hao nods needlessly, the answer obvious in his writhing body braced against Hanbin’s, fingernails digging small indents into his tan shoulders.

“Like fucking yourself on my cock that much?”

Hao’s body stutters, hastily covering Hanbin’s wicked mouth with his palm lest he utters one deranged thing too many, ultimately breaking Hao’s brain in half for good.

“Touch me please,” he begs instead.

Hanbin plants his feet on the mattress and thrusts into Hao in earnest, embrace unbreakable, getting it just right every single time. Letting himself be handled without complaint, Hao turns to perfectly pliable putty, relinquishing all control.

Finally, finally, finally, Hanbin spits into his hand (Hao almost comes from the sight alone) and engulfs his cock in his drenched palm. Hao cries out in relief, drops of heated tears tumbling out of the corners of his eyes as Hanbin strokes him in time with the brutal snap of his hips.

White hot pleasure runs down his spine, penetrating every nerve. Hao spasms and twitches and then, comes with a shriek. Blazing flames curl in his stomach as cum spurts out of him in wild bursts. Hanbin is talking to him — Hao can’t make out a single thing though, his soul ascending, entering a higher realm of pure bliss and heavenly satisfaction.

When he comes to, his vision is hazy and his brain a little fuzzy, as if dipped into soft cotton. He’s glad he’s present enough to witness Hanbin beneath him, features drawn in arousal, gaping up at Hao closely, taken with the view. Hao finds it as mortifying as he finds it flattering.

Hanbin follows no real rhythm anymore as he chases his own release madly, hips jerking up as he pulls Hao onto his erection easily, fingers snug around his waist.

The stimulation is overwhelming and intense, and Hao hisses, submerging his hands in Hanbin’s dark mane. Before he can think better of it, he pulls on the strands. “Come in me, Hanbin.”

“Hao–“

As expected, Hanbin’s erection gives a final throb before Hao feels the hot liquid gushing out of him, painting his walls a dirty white. It’s perfect, hearing Hanbin mewl loudly, feeling the trace of him on the inside, seeing him shake while he rides out the last waves of his high.

At the end of it, Hao slumps, draping his limbs over Hanbin’s form as they both gasp, trying to catch their breaths, the lonesome sound only accompanied by the AC’s incessant whirring.

Hanbin kisses him on the temple. “You’re crazy, Hao.”

Hao is very comfortable. They’re lying under his puffy blanket, bodies tangled together. The sun has set, exchanging its flaming orange light for a kinder, darker blue, coating Hao’s walls in the color of the deep sea. His head rises and falls along with each breath Hanbin takes, intimately nestled in the crook of his neck.

Hanbin runs incredibly hot, he’s realized, a furnace which Hao’s air conditioning is no match against. He doesn’t mind the heat though.

As is Hao’s nature, the events of the night keep replaying in his mind.

Hanbin had carried him into the shower and washed both of their bodies thoroughly. Full of care, he’d rid him of any remaining stickiness adorning his skin, dried his hair without being asked to, helped him put on his retainer, and even changed his sheets.

Through all of this, he’d kept doting on Hao — asking if he needs anything, if he’s in pain, if he’s feeling okay.

Hao almost cried.

“You never asked me back what I like about you. There’s a lot, you know,” Hao breaks the pleasant silence. This, too, had been simmering in the back of his head since before.

“Is that so?” Hanbin’s voice has a happy lilt to it. Hao doubts he’s stopped smiling since they’ve had sex. “Tell me, then.”

Hao hums. “This might come as a shock to you but I’m kind of an introvert.”

“You don’t say.” The sarcastic tone makes Hao grin.

“I know, I know. Big twist,” he appeases him. “Anyways, I really liked when we talked. It was…” he thinks. “Nice”

“Gee, thanks Hao.”

Hao angles his head to get a good look at Hanbin, about to scold him jokingly — only to find that he’s already watching him, gaze entirely too tender and sweet. Hao’s heart skips a beat.

“No, I’m serious,” he pushes. “You made me feel really comfortable.” Taking this moment to be brave, he carries on, “And you’re so kind. I really like that about you too.”

Hanbin refuses to speak. Instead, there’s a dust of pink creeping up his cheeks, dying his handsome features in a rosey blush. Hao could write disgustingly mushy poems about his love for Hanbin’s bashfulness at this point.

“And it’s so cool that you’re already working. Helping your dad and stepping up and everything. And I love how strong you are. So strong,” he stresses by squeezing Hanbin’s meaty biceps, in mild skepticism over his luck. “And your tattoos. You’re really really hot–“

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Hanbin cuts him off, his face deliciously flushed, ears as red as a ripe apple. “That’s nice of you to say,” he smiles timidly.

After a brief lull, Hanbin muses out loud, “You know, you can look really stoic sometimes. Like an unapproachable beauty.” Hao snorts. “No, genuinely. It’s crazy to hear you say these things. I guess I couldn’t read you at all.”

“What are you talking about? I made a fool of myself so many times,” he argues.

“Yeah, but then one second later you acted like it never even happened.” Hanbin slings his arms around him tighter, as if he’s afraid Hao could disappear at any moment.

Hao takes a deep breath cozied up to Hanbin’s throat. “Well, I didn’t wanna be so obvious. I was just trying to control myself.”

“Okay. Then I’m really glad you lost control.”

“I’m sure you are,” Hao laughs.

After that, Hanbin stays.

Sometimes, he shows up unannounced at Hao’s door, with a charming grin on his face and a small gift in his hand, making him heat up.

Other times, they’ll meet up after Hao’s had a daunting presentation to give in class or Hanbin’s had a grueling day at work, finding the time to see each other despite their busy schedules. On weekends, they’re always together. Hanbin even makes sure to drop by if he has a free minute to spare in between clients.

Hao meets Hanbin’s friends. They’re nice, so it’s fine. He takes a special liking to the lanky boy who welcomes him with open arms and familiar jokes. Still, he sticks to Hanbin a lot of the time. He loves it the most when it’s just the two of them.

Hanbin and Kuanjui get along well too — perhaps a little too well. Hao fears he’s created a monster by introducing them to each other, two peas in a pod.

Summer turns into autumn, into winter, into spring.

The leaves morph in color, growing and falling, and growing again. The temperature is uncaring, dropping and rising at will. The pavement glazes over with ice, puffy snow embellishing the streets, before being wiped away by the unforgiving sunrays once more.

Everything changes, except for Hanbin.

He stays no matter what.

Hao used to hate the colder seasons. The frost crawling under his skin, into his bones, and freezing him from the inside. The dark days, the mud around his shoes, the rain in the sky.

Now however, autumn is for cuddling up on his sofa and explaining his favorite reality shows to Hanbin while the man simply peers at him with a fond expression (definitely not listening).

Winter is for going ice skating, as per Hanbin’s request, and making a big idiot of himself as he trips and falls multiple times. After that, he stops letting go of Hanbin’s arm.

Spring is for having picnics in cute parks and getting fed up with all the bugs continuously swirling around them. It’s for changing their location to Hanbin’s room in his childhood home instead, his family always happy to have Hao visit.

It doesn’t really matter if it’s cold or hot anymore. If it’s winter or spring or autumn. Or summer.

For Hao, the sun is always shining.