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Hao feels like he’s dreaming.
Everything about where he is right now- sitting on the floor next to his boyfriend, surrounded by boxes, in the bedroom of the apartment they’re going to live in together- has a distinct dream-like quality to it. The sun shining in on them through the large, floor-to-ceiling glass windows feels too beautiful and bright, the sounds of the traffic below aren’t annoying enough, and the aches he should feel throughout his body after carrying boxes are suspiciously absent.
And that’s not even getting into the fact that the entire situation itself just feels like it’s something that shouldn’t be real. Hao prides himself on his ability to be logical, and to understand things at their heart as straightforwardly as possible. As much of a dream winning Boys Planet and debuting was, he also knew the hard work and natural skills that had made it possible, the steps he had taken that led him to defeat all the odds. Moving into a gorgeous apartment with a view of the Han River with his perfect boyfriend and equally perfect dog? That’s harder for him to accept as reasonable.
Hao reaches out a hand and grabs Hanbin’s ankle, just to see. Hanbin yelps in surprise, but doesn’t shift his focus away from the floor plan in his hands. That is at least enough to convince Hao that he is indeed tethered to reality; Hao would never dream of a situation in which he was ignored. “Hanbin-ahhhh,” he whines, affecting what he thinks of as his “sexy baby” pout. He petulantly pulls at Hanbin’s sleeve. “Pay attention to me.”
Hanbin looks up at that. His expression softens into one of agonizing fondness, and he leans into kiss Hao and, yep. That’s the dream.
They spend a few minutes kissing, maybe with a little more tongue than maybe the situation calls for, whatever, before Hao reluctantly breaks away from him. Though he might feel a thrumming sense of satisfaction at being the one and only person who can always completely break The Sung Hanbin’s laser sharp focus, he knows they have work they need to do. Hanbin whines a little bit at the loss, but soon enough he’s reabsorbed into the floor plan.
“It’s not going to change the more you look at it,” Hao reminds him for the fifth time. He rests his head on Hanbin’s shoulder. “We don’t have enough room. We have to cull our plushie collection.”
“Agh, you’re right, I know, it just doesn’t make sense!” Hanbin sighs heavily. “I thought I went over everything.”
“I know, I know,” Hao says. He runs his palm over Hanbin’s back in long, soothing motions. Because he’s Hanbin, he had printed out all their floor plans of each room and used a fine point pen to draw in little versions (to scale) of not only their furniture but also specific, important items that they needed to make sure to take into account. Hao’s favorite was the mini-fridge Hanbin had drawn in the kitchen floor plan with the label ‘Durian ONLY’, but it was hard to choose. It was meticulously thought out, in that typical Hanbin way, and made the entire moving day process much more seamless than Hao had been anticipating.
(The entire moving process as a whole has been far more seamless than Hao had been anticipating, really. He’d figured Yue Hua and Wakeone would have more to say, would make them sit in on an endless number of stupid meetings before maybe letting them move in together. But in the end, it was very simple- they had leverage. Hanbin would be moving into his own apartment when his contract ran out and he returned to The L1ve management, everyone knew that was happening, and Hao would be moving in with him. Hao would have an official dorm that he would be expected to stay in before early schedules and to do lives from, but that was it. Hanbin joked that they’d be joining a long line of Kpop idols who had this exact setup, and Hao of course demanded an immediate gossip sesh on all the top secret info he’d gleaned through his time as an MNet MC.)
“Maybe if I…” Hanbin reaches into the box and grabs one of his most recent ditto plushies. He gets up and walks over to stand in front of their newly set up bedside table, the one on Hanbin’s side of the bed. He places the ditto plushie on top of it next to the only other item currently there, a small clock. The plushie is large and takes up the majority of the surface area of the small table; Hao stifles a laugh. “Hey, it could work!”
“I suppose so, until you want a glass of water,” Hao giggles, but sobers when met with Hanbin’s unamused look, which is unfortunately for Hao also deeply sexy. “Hey. Baby, it’s okay. I’m sorry. Nothing is going to ruin moving day, alright? I know that’s what you’re stressed about, but it won’t. We’ll figure this out.”
It’s not technically moving day; they’ve been moving all their stuff in drips and drabs, both together and separately, over the course of a month. Between final encore preparations in Japan and Korea, Hao’s international trips, all of Hanbin’s classes, and filming content for everything AND2BLE and ZEROBASEONE are going to be doing for the next few months, it wasn’t feasible to do one big moving day. But with the movers having dropped off the last of the boxes and furniture this morning, this is the closest they’re gonna get. And they’re both giddy about it.
They’d prioritized their bed over everything, of course, assembling it the night before Hao left for his solo fanmeet in China and trip with his mom. They were both miserable about the impending separation, and assembling and making the bed felt grounding. Hao had given Hanbin permission to do as much unpacking as he wanted while he was away; if nothing else, to force Hanbin into focusing on something that wasn’t exercise or language lessons. But when he’d returned, Hanbin hadn’t done very much. “It’s our home, not mine,” was all he had said.
The floor plan for their bedroom did, of course, have a detailed plan of action for all their favorite plushies and figurines and other cute objects that they’ve accumulated over the course of their lives. Some were going to be tastefully lined up at the windowsill. Others would live on the bookshelf in the living room. The ones that Sansan, their mostly well behaved but still very much a husky puppy, liked to menace would live the high life on top of the closet.
It was all going according to plan until the box of creatures that had been earmarked for the bedroom turned out to have significantly more stuffed animals in it than Hanbin had estimated for. Hao thinks it’s kind of a funny problem to have, but Hanbin’s perfectionism is a brick wall sometimes. If Hao lets this go on for too long, Hanbin will make his lack of accounting for all of Hao’s extra gacha gains into a personal failing–
Oh, fuck. That’s it.
“Hanbin-ah!” Hao exclaims excitedly, getting up and crossing over to where Hanbin is standing. “I figured it out! It’s all those gacha plushies I brought back from my trip with my mom! You made all these plans before my trip, remember? That’s what happened!”
Hanbin instantly brightens, and a relieved smile crosses his face. “Oh! That makes sense! I just didn’t have the right numbers! Okay.” He gives Hao a kiss. “I forgive you for messing up my numbers.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hao says, rolling his eyes fondly. “Oh! I have an idea! I can keep some of them at my other dorm, and then we can put some of them in storage–” Hanbin winces. “No, I know, but! Hanbin-ah! Another idea! We can buy a cute storage box for the ones that won’t fit and it’ll be like they’re preparing for debut, oh that’s cute. And then they’ll come out and debut and then they’ll go back in the box to rest, obviously. Some will have to go on hiatus, some can do their military service… it’ll work! Obviously Hanini and Binini are permanent, and Ddungjjungie of course, but–”
He can’t finish because in an instant, Hanbin has pushed him flat on his back on the bed, slotted himself on all fours on top of him, and begun kissing every inch of his face. “Hey!” Hao says, starting to laugh. “I was in the middle of saying something important!”
“I love you,” Hanbin says, finally pulling back and letting Hao catch his breath. “Thank you. For knowing I was about to spiral.” He flops down directly on top of Hao, slotting his head over Hao’s shoulder, letting his torso press against Hao’s. The weight of him is perfect. Hao feels so happy he could burst.
“Of course,” Hao says, beginning to run a finger through Hanbin’s hair. “It’s okay if you spiral. Because I’m here to unspiral you.”
“Ooh, sexy.”
“Shut up,” Hao laughs. “I love you too. Kiss me.” Hanbin does.
Far too quickly, though, Hanbin rolls off of him and lies flat on his back beside him. They both stare at the lighting fixture above them for a few moments.
After a moment, Hanbin grabs Hao’s hand and slots their fingers together. “It doesn’t feel real to you, does it?”
“Is that why you grabbed my hand? So you could read my mind? I’m onto you!” Hao exclaims, doing his best outraged voice that he knows is Hanbin’s favorite. Hanbin just smiles at him; Hao gives up. “It didn’t at first. But now… it feels more real now, I think. Does it feel real to you?”
“Hmmm.” Hanbin tilts his head like he’s really pondering it. “Yes. Partly because if it was a dream Sansan would be here and not with my parents. And all our plushies would miraculously fit.”
“Ugh, we should get mom to bring him over, seriously, Hanbin-ah. It’s not right he isn’t here! I miss him.”
“No, we need to be more unpacked first, I told you. It needs to be a calm environment, and we need to introduce him to one room at a time so he doesn’t get overwhelmed–”
“I know, I know, veterinarian Sung Hanbin-ssi,” Hao says, sighing loudly. He turns on his side, because his id is telling him to be a brat. “I don’t want him to be stressed out either.”
“Awww, you’re so cute,” Hanbin coos, poking at Hao’s side. He suddenly hops up from the bed, in pure Sung Hanbin golden retriever fashion, and lightly slaps Hao’s arm. “Oh! Come on, get up. I just remembered, there’s something important we need to do.” Hao wants to lie down more, but his curiosity wins out and he lets Hanbin pull him to his feet. “There you go! And now, close your eyes.”
Hao obliges, and covers them with his hands for good measure. He hears Hanbin rummaging around, but tiredness has started to seep into his bones and his brain feels unable to even conjecture what Hanbin might be surprising him with.
“And.. open.”
Hao opens his eyes, and as quickly, they start to tear up.
Because Hanbin’s holding the best present he ever gave Hao, Hao’s most favorite gift. The comically large framed photo of one of their worst selcas. The selca Hao had insisted on even though they were in a fight, because Hanbin was meeting his mother for the first time and that was important and needed to be honored. The gift that reminds Hao, every time he sees it, that true love is when you get in a fight but still stop to take the photo anyway.
“Oh aigoooo, Jjanghao! Don’t cry!” Hanbin puts down the frame so he can pull Hao into a hug. Hao accepts it, sniffling into Hanbin’s shoulder. He’s not fully crying, but he’s so happy and in love and feeling too much that he worries it might tip over into that at any minute. So he’s glad when Hanbin pulls back and puts on his best ‘let’s do this!’ tone of voice. “Come on! Where do you want to put it?”
Hao looks around the bedroom, and then back at Hanbin, and he immediately has an answer. “Anywhere. It’s perfect anywhere.”
Hanbin smiles at him, radiant. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”
–
In the time up until the final encore, they don’t stay there as often as Hao wishes they could. He understands why, logistically it hasn’t worked out- early AND2BLE start times have required his presence at his new dorm more often than not, and for encore purposes, Hanbin and he have been staying in their old dorm. He knows it’s temporary, that they’ll be back soon, but he wants soon to be now. He longs for the comfort of their apartment. He longs for the warm bed with the soft sheets, the stack of albums on their kitchen table they keep not having time to organize, Hanbin’s sweet post-it reminders all over the place for him to remember to do his skincare even when he’s tired and refill the water filter. He wants to lie on their (huge, soft, ostentatiously purple because whatever, they’re gay) living room couch with his head on Hanbin’s chest, marathoning a dumb drama on the tv that they haven’t had time to mount yet. And mostly, he simply longs for the comfort of something that’s new and exciting but also permanent and solid. A new beginning with his favorite person to numb the sting of what’s ending.
When Hao leaves the stage through the door alone, heartbroken and sobbing, Hanbin pulls him into a bracing hug and it’s settled, in a way that they don’t need to say out loud. They need to go home tonight. The idea of anything else happening is impossible.
All of it feels too big, but there isn’t anything to do but feel it. They go through the motions, put one foot in front of the other, completing all necessary actions that will get them through their front door and into their bed. Hao goes to the new dorm with Yujin, Gyuvin and Ricky to grab a few more things (guilt over leaving Yujin absolved when he sees the puppy pile sleepover that immediately commences as soon as Yujin sits down on his bed), and then, well. Their manager isn’t surprised when Hao says where he wants to be driven and, given the state of him, isn’t inclined to refuse.
When Hao makes it inside, Hanbin is sitting at the kitchen table, writing in his diary. He looks up as soon as Hao enters, and runs to the door and envelops him in a bear hug before Hao’s shoes are even off. Sansan runs over at the same time, and Hao smiles at him from over Hanbin’s shoulder. He can see Sansan fighting an urge deep within him to jump up on Hao; he’s such a good boy. Hao reaches a hand down and lightly pats his head.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Hanbin says, voice broken. His tears are wetting Hao’s hoodie. “I missed you so much. I know it wasn’t long but–”
“I know, I know, I missed you too,” Hao murmurs, pulling back just enough to press a kiss to Hanbin’s forehead. “I’m here now. It’s okay.”
“I want to ask you if you’re okay,” Hanbin says, once they pull apart so Hao has a chance to properly crouch down to pet Sansan. “But I know you’re not, and.. And I want to say something comforting but I’m too much of a mess, and–”
“Hanbin-ah,” Hao interrupts, standing back up once Sansan seems satisfied. “No. Don’t do that, okay? You don’t have to fix this. We can’t fix it. It just… it just fucking sucks.”
“Yeah,” Hanbin says, nodding. His expression changes to one of awe, like it’s the first time he’s hearing it before. As if he and Hanbin haven’t spent the past six months, sometimes drunk, expressing this exact sentiment repeatedly while crying. As if it’s brand new anger, not anger that was there from the minute they knew it was ending. “Yeah, wow. You’re right, yeah. It fucking sucks. Wow. Yeah! That’s it, isn’t it. It fucking sucks.” The words sound a little strange as they leave his mouth, like he’s still unsure if he can say them in this context, say something bitter and angry when the situation feels so grave and final and endlessly sad. Hao knows Hanbin has the capacity for righteous indignation as much as anyone, but sometimes he needs encouragement to let it out.
And Hao is more than happy to give him that encouragement. “Yeah! And, and you know what else? Fuck Wakeone, and fuck Yue Hua Entertainment.” He does a little triumphant, angry jerk of his hand to emphasize each name.
Hanbin lets out a surprised, perfect laugh. “Shh,” He says, briefly covering Hao’s mouth with his palm. “We don’t know that they’re not bugging our place…”
“Ugh, they would!” Hao’s laughing now too, and he feels delirious, stupidly silly. “They’re trying to, uh, get proof of all our illicit homosexual activity so they can blackmail us into doing their bidding for the next ten years–” But he can’t finish the sentence because he’s laughing too hard, made worse by looking at Hanbin, who is in even worse state than him.
“Okay, okay,” Hanbin says, once they’ve finally regained composure. “I love you. Thank you.” He leans forward and gives Hao a soft kiss. But then, his face crumples and his eyes instantly fill with tears again. “Ah. No! I thought that was gonna– I’m going to start again, I’m sorry–” he takes a deep, shuddering inhale, a clear attempt at self-composure that fails miserably. In an instant, he’s pulling Hao into a crushing hug again. His sobbing makes Hao want to set something on fire, even moreso when he hears Sansan make a little worried whining noise from next to their feet. “I just don’t want any of this. It’s so much – worse– than I thought–”
“I know, I know.” Hao doesn’t even try to not let his own tears return. There’s no point fighting it, and he’s relieved Hanbin isn’t trying to either.
The thing is, Hao doesn’t always get to take care of Hanbin like this. While he’d estimate Hanbin and he cry around the same volume overall, Hao gives himself over to collapse more than Hanbin does. Hanbin rarely lets himself stop relentlessly pushing himself forward enough to do so. It isn’t that Hanbin forces himself to put a positive spin on everything negative he ever feels, but he’s goal-oriented and Type A and a control freak and a service top and it just isn’t natural to him to not be thinking of what to do next. Even if he wanted to bury his feelings down until they eventually bubbled up and caused him to break, his deep self-awareness and psychology degree would probably prevent him from doing so.
He still leans on Hao, of course. They’re a couple, they’ve been in a relationship for three years. But it’s also more than that. It’s the fact that they do both sincerely believe they share a soul, that they understand each other like no one else, that no matter how much they might doubt themselves or admonish themselves for their own failings, they have no choice but to share it all with each other. It happens even if they don’t say it. Hao feels Hanbin’s pain; Hanbin feels Hao’s. Call them crazy, codependent, whatever. Hao doesn’t care. He’s just glad that Hanbin leans on Hao in a way he leans on no one else. He just also wants to help him get more comfortable feeling intolerable things instead of immediately getting out of his head through exercise, positive self-talk or thinking of their fans. He wants Hanbin to stop trying to solve his feelings from the moment he feels them.
What it comes down to in the end is: Hao wants to make Hanbin feel the way Hanbin makes him feel, in those moments. When Hao is having his own mental collapse and Hanbin appears in the corners of his vision with a bottle of water and an “Aigoo, who’s bullying Jjanghao?” to make him feel better. Not to fix it, but just to sit in it with him. He wants to be Hanbin’s Hanbin.
And when Hanbin continues to cry on his shoulder, not saying anything, not trying to make anything good out of how awful everything he is, Hao knows this is something only he gets to see. A Hanbin who is angry, desolate, and inconsolable. And perfect, always perfect.
“I love you,” Hao finally says, once he’s regained enough composure to do so. It makes Hanbin sob harder, but that’s okay too.
They stay like that for a few more minutes, before Hao gently suggests they should get ready for bed. Hanbin agrees.
They don’t have to move quickly, which is a relief. Tomorrow is going to be a day for sleeping and recovering, so the rush to get in bed and go to sleep as quickly as possible that they’d normally feel isn’t there. They take an extra long shower, and Hao finally lets Hanbin switch into the caretaker mode he’s been dying to get into ever since he got home and lets him shampoo his hair for him. (Hao admittedly isn’t purely selfless with that; Hanbin’s scalp massages are otherworldly.) They cry off and on as they continue their evening routine- toweling each other off, getting into pajamas, applying their skincare, getting into bed.
It takes twice as long as it would if they moved independently, but they need it tonight. And anyway, Hao realized long ago there’s one person he’ll always slow down for.
When they finally make it in bed, Hanbin presses his chest against Hao’s back, and wraps his arms around his middle. (They’re clinging together in a way that makes it hard for Sansan to get between their feet the way he prefers, but he adapts.) Hanbin squeezes Hao extra tight, and Hao knows from their telepathy that it’s both a thank you for taking care of him, and also an invitation for Hao to fall apart again if he needs to. Hao accepts with relief the feeling, but realizes with some surprise that the grief doesn’t rush back to the same potency as before. He knows that his grief isn’t going anywhere, that grief doesn’t really do that, but it softens into something manageable.
He can’t give himself fully over to despair, even as part of him desperately wants to scream and cry and curse the world for being cruel. The force field of Hanbin’s love will never let him retreat into himself like that. So instead, his grief melds with Hanbin’s grief, and he can breathe again. Two halves becoming whole, once more.
“I love you too,” Hanbin whispers into Hao’s ear. “I’m sorry that took me like, uh. An hour. To respond back to you.”
“I’ll forgive you this once,” Hao says in his most serious, somber voice, the one that always makes Hanbin crack up. Sure enough, Hanbin laughs.
“If it helps,” Hanbin starts, “I have a gift for you. For us. For our new home.”
Hao turns around in his arms at that. Yes, things may be on fire, this might be one of the worst days of his life, but he’s never going to say no to a gift. “Tell me.”
“I can show you tomorrow,” Hanbin teases, kissing his nose.
“Hanbin.”
“Okay, okay. But I’m not getting up. You’ll just need to use your imagination. Want me to describe it to you?”
“Mm,” Hao affirms. “But not boringly. Make it into a story.”
“Okay, okay.” Hanbin lowers his voice, the way he always does when Hao makes this request. “Once upon a time-”
“Ughhh–”
“Shush. Once upon a time, two princes fell in love and moved into an apartment with a Han River view–”
“Was one of them really cute, and the other one was all gay about it–”
“Obviously. Stop interrupting.”
“Fine.”
“And the prince from the blue planet thought it would be very cute to get them matching mugs to commemorate them moving in together. One mug with an S on it and one with an Z.”
“Aw,” Hao says, a smile spreading across his face. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’ll show you tomorrow.”
“Okay. I’m excited.” He is, but it’s more than that too. It’s a lifeline, something to anchor them to their present and future, a reality of cozy domesticity. Despite everything, he feels at peace. Hao feels their apartment wrap around them protectively, and settles in to listen as Hanbin continues his story.
–
The weeks pass, and their home slowly comes together in phases. They’re both still stubborn about not doing too much of the unpacking and decorating separately, so boxes remain strewn around the living room and Hanbin still hasn’t found one of his favorite hoodies but it’s okay. (Hao is moved, but not especially surprised, that Hanbin’s desire for organization is superseded by his sentimentality.)
They see each other every few days, at least, and call each other daily when they can’t. Some nights, even if they’re both exhausted, they still fall asleep on video call to be comforted by each other’s breathing. And Hao finds that it’s all okay. That it’s all worth it for the mornings where he gets to wake up with Hanbin wrapped around him like a koala. For the mornings where they get to just sit on their couch, drinking coffee out of their matching mugs and scrolling social media. Where they just get to be them.
Today, coffee notwithstanding, Hao is barely conscious. It’s been a grueling week for both of them, so Hao had loudly vetoed Hanbin’s proposed outdoor activities in lieu of a day of Nothing. He’s smug at how smart of a call that turned out to be; the sky is grey and rainclouds are threatening to move in at any moment. He’s ended up supine with his head in Hanbin’s lap, and the sensation of Hanbin’s hand combing through his hair absentmindedly and the warmth from the multiple blankets covering him has him nearly drifting off again.
Before he can, Hanbin gently tugs on his hair. “No sleeping,” he sing-songs, leaning down to kiss Hao’s forehead. “You won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
“I will,” Hao mumbles.
“No you won’t, and then you’ll loudly sigh until I stay up with you.”
“I don’t do that,” Hao says, and blinks up at him with his cutest, biggest eyes. “I think My Hanbinie is just sooo in tune with me that he wakes up anyway–”
“Mhm.” Hanbin leans down to kiss the pout off his face. “C’mon, help me decide what photos to post.” He tries to hand Hao the phone, but when Hao just looks at him petulantly, he relents with a chuckle and holds the phone in front of Hao’s face.
Normally, Hao would ask Hanbin what theme he’s going for before looking- Hanbin’s finsta posts always are artfully curated with a pre-determined theme- but he doesn’t need to do that this time. It’s obviously the “our first home” post.
The first photo Hanbin shows him he already knows will be his favorite; a selfie they took when they were sitting on the floor in front of their new bed, boxes and suitcases strewn around them. Hao’s head is resting on Hanbin’s shoulder. They’re both in hoodies and sweatpants, exhausted and sweaty. They have stupid, silly smiles plastered over their faces.
“Obviously that one,” Hao says. He reaches out a hand to scroll to the next photo. The next one- and the next ten or so after that- are roughly the same photo, Hao leaning against their kitchen counter, sipping coffee out of his Z mug. The next few after that are Hao asleep on the couch, exhausted after a long day. After that, a dozen or so photos of Hao brushing his teeth in front of their bathroom mirror. Hao bursts into a fit of thrilled giggles. “Hanbin-ah!” He finally is able to exclaim.
“Problem?”
“You’ve been stalking me. You’re such a psycho.” Hao jabs a finger in Hanbin’s face for emphasis. Hanbin grabs it in his fist and bites it. “Ow!”
“It’s not my fault you’re cute,” Hanbin says. “Sue me.” It comes out way too smooth.
That’s the problem with Hanbin- beneath the good boy persona and silly voices and gentle, soft spoken aura, he’s smooth. Hao feels his breath catch involuntarily. How is he still in the honeymoon phase, three years later? How is it possible to be in love like this?
“Let’s do this later,” he says finally, grabbing Hanbin’s shirt collar and pulling him into a kiss. Hanbin’s phone falls to the phone with a thud.
–
Of course, he misses him. He misses him every second he’s not with him, a dull ache in his chest, a feeling of not being quite whole, of knowing that every move he makes would feel lighter if Hanbin was next to him. The relief he feels upon seeing him is like nothing else, and the prospect of it can get him through 18 hour days and little sleep and all the stress comeback entails.
But it’s not impossible, the way he thought it might have been. He lets himself focus on the part of him that’s always been ambitious. He zeroes in on his determination to re-debut successfully, to lead his team well, to memorize every single dance move, to record his lines flawlessly, to charm variety show hosts and model for Fila Fusion and keep up with violin. He sees his other friends, goes to the gym, puts nail stickers on his nails. He accepts the new way his life is, with always the end goal in sight. A successful career, a reunion of ZEROBASEONE, a subunit with Hanbin. All of it feels feasible. He has all the time in the world to make it happen.
But even as he works on his AND2BLE debut and everything it entails, none of it feels separate from Hanbin. Whatever he does, Hanbin does it with him. Hanbin’s love for him is settled in his cells; he’s part of his soul. It’s there when he dances, making his limbs come alive. It’s there when he plays a ringing tone on violin and the richness permeates the air. It’s there in the way he remembers to do his skincare before bed even when he doesn’t want to, the way he speaks gently when he wants to speak harshly, the way he grounds himself in the present when his mind wants to run to a past mistake or misstep. It’s there when he doubts himself, reminding him that there’s someone out there who loves him exactly the way he is.
It’s not something he can really describe to people without sounding a little insane. Gyuvin makes jokes about him pining and it’s not that he’s wrong, but it’s not the full picture. But if Hao said something like, “It’s not too bad because we’re the same person so it feels like he’s inside my soul at all times”, well. Gyuvin would probably make a gay sex joke about it first and call him crazy second. In a joking way, but still.
At the end of the day, Hanbin’s his home. And even on the nights where they can’t crawl into bed together, or video call, or text as much as they’d want, when a lazy day of basking in each other is pushed out further and further, that remains true.
That being said, they still dream into their future. Well, Hao wouldn’t actually call it dreaming; not when it’s as certain as his existence. Sometimes, they’ll be falling asleep and Hao will murmur a new name for one of their kids that’s come to mind, and Hanbin will wake himself up enough to add it to the ever-expanding list on his phone. Hanbin sends him listings for fancy five bedrooms, an estimate of what they’ll probably cost in ten years and how they’ll be able to afford it. They go back and forth on if they’ll really need a wine fridge. They go back and forth on the pool that Hao is currently insisting on. They go back and forth on aesthetics and what to do if their kids draw on their walls.
Of course, they plan the wedding. Hanbin hasn’t proposed officially yet, because his dozens of spontaneous proposals that he’s been making since Paris in October 2023 do not suffice, not for Zhang Hao. They make him melt when he remembers them, they were all perfect and romantic and utterly insane, and Hao knows he will undoubtedly be receiving more. But they both want a big, official one. The one that they announce on their private social media accounts and celebrate with a party, the one that’s going to trigger them planning in earnest, the one that’s going to be followed by an official date chosen and a wedding, no more than a year later.
(They’ve agreed that Hanbin won’t tell him when he’s going to do it. Hao had originally wanted to protest, that he wanted to make sure he was dressed as fashionably as possible for the pictures, before realizing he didn’t need to. Hanbin thinks of everything; he would never propose to Hao if he was wearing one of his “essentially pajamas” outfits.)
They’re talking about it today, as Hanbin is reorganizing their closet. He does this every so often, but only when Hao is also home, so he can learn “the system.” A Yerin Baek album is playing through their bedroom speakers, and a light breeze is flowing in the room as the sun begins to set. Hao is lying on his side on the bed, perfectly positioned to watch Hanbin work and lob questions at him.
“Hanbin-ah, I was thinking. What if my ring size changes? Do you have a plan for dealing with that?”
Hanbin, who had been inspecting one of Hao’s more avant-garde pair of jeans with a bemused expression, lets out a laugh. “Ah, my Haohao underestimates me. When did you get these?”
“Just a few days ago.”
“Taobao?”
“Yeah. Don’t change the subject. Also! Bin-ah. I don’t want to be cold. I know we’ve said spring for the engagement but if it’s too cold… except, well, actually I have that nice overcoat and scarf so those photos could turn out really nice if we did autumn or winter…” Hao makes an affronted face as Hanbin begins to laugh again. “Hey! Don’t laugh at me!”
“Aigoooo, Zhang Haooooo,” Hanbin sing-songs. He finishes putting away the pair of jeans and comes over to lie down next to him, immediately giving him a kiss on the cheek. Hao makes a big show of wiping it off. “I’m sorry for laughing, baby, you’re just so cute. I hear you, okay? I’ll get your ring size right. And we’ll figure out the right season together. How’s that sound?”
Hao knows he should maybe find it condescending, when Hanbin starts using his gentle Kindergarten teacher voice, but he can’t help but find it comforting. Sue him. “Okay. Fine.”
“So you forgive me?” Hanbin says. It’s teasing, but he’s not joking. Hanbin always requires verbal confirmation.
“Yes, yes, I forgive you,” Hao says, rolling his eyes fondly. As a gesture of good will, he turns around so that Hanbin can spoon him. They lie there peacefully for a few minutes, and Hao feels like he almost might fall asleep. “You’re lucky that I know you do take these things very seriously.”
“Yeah. Probably because I think about marrying you constantly,” Hanbin says simply, like it’s the most ordinary thing in the world. Like it isn’t making Hao feel faint.
He would maybe another night tease him for trying to be smooth, even though he knows that’s not it at all. It’s not smooth. It’s honest, and objectively a little cheesy. It’s just smooth to Hao. Hanbin is way too hot for his own good in general, and when he’s like this, well. It’s radioactive.
“Good,” Hao finally replies. Hanbin squeezes him a little tighter, and Hao breathes in his perfume and lets his eyes shut. He wants to will himself to calm down a little, so that he’s not rendered incoherent by something as ordinary as his perfect boyfriend wanting to marry him. But then Hanbin starts lightly running his hand across his stomach, and then there’s no point in trying.
It’s one of his favorite Hanbin moves to initiate sex. It’s the main one Hanbin uses when they have time to move more slowly, in contrast to the frantic making out they do when they’re both pent up after separate schedules and don’t have much time before they need to rest. Or the time Hanbin came home after a brand event wearing a suit and Hao immediately got on his knees because couldn’t handle the thought of Hanbin looking that good and other people being allowed to perceive it. Sometimes extended foreplay just isn’t in the cards.
But when it is, it’s thrilling. It reminds Hao of when they were first getting to know each other on Boys Planet, when Hanbin used every excuse he could think of to touch him, when Hao wondered how far he’d go. When Hao stupidly underestimated The Sung Hanbin and what he was bold enough to do.
“Is this okay?” Hanbin murmurs into his ear, and Hao nods his head so fast it’s embarrassing. Hanbin doesn’t laugh, though; he lightly kisses Hao’s neck, like he’s thanking him. He does thank him for this, not infrequently, because of course he does. Hao’s perfect, polite boyfriend.
He continues to kiss Hao’s neck, all over, and Hao knows he’d be using teeth if he could. Hao lets out a contented sigh and melts into it, tilting his head forward a bit so Hanbin has more to work with. Hao feels himself start to get hard; he’d been hoping for this, but Hanbin’s energetic determination to sort out the closet hadn’t left him hopeful he’d actually get it. And fine, Hao might be depraved, but he tries to limit his begging when he can; if for no other reason than Hanbin gets so smug when he reduces Hao to a needy, whimpering mess.
He even took an extra long shower to try and calm himself down, before realizing it would be better to just fingerfuck himself and take the edge off. He thought it had worked, until now- he already needs to touch himself and he knows Hanbin is going to make him wait for it. It’s ridiculous how worked up he already is from a hand across his stomach and lips on his neck, but he can’t help it. Hanbin is just so stupidly good at everything he does; Hao doesn’t know how it continues to surprise him.
If he voiced it pathetically enough, Hanbin might take pity on him and start to touch him. But part of what Hao finds most exhilarating is surrendering control to Hanbin like this. He likes being able to just exist, to let go completely, to feel continuous, ever-increasing pleasure that he doesn’t have to work for himself. He likes knowing that Hanbin will make him come, that Hanbin has a 100% track record of making him come, but not knowing when or how (or how many times) it’s going to happen.
Hanbin eventually moves his hand under the band of Hao’s boxers, but he only briefly cups Hao’s cock before pulling it back to massage Hao’s lower back instead. It’s a win/loss for Hao. A win in that the lower back massage bodes well for Hao getting fucked (Hanbin always worries about his back and tries to massage him before and after to make up for it); a loss in that Hanbin is no longer touching his cock. He lets out a frustrated whimper.
“Hanbin-ah,” Hao whines, trying to make it especially pathetic to sway him. “Please.”
“I know, baby, it’s okay,” Hanbin soothes. “Just a few more moments, yeah? Just focus on how this feels for now. It’ll feel good.” He presses his thumbs more firmly into Hao’s lower back but he’s still doing a light enough pressure that it doesn’t veer into the “sports massage” territory that Hao is less fond of (but Hanbin still insists on sometimes). “You’re tense. Let me take care of you.”
Hao gives a faint nod and lets Hanbin continue to massage his lower back, finding the relief Hanbin promised after a few moments. He sighs happily, and it’s just when he’s starting to relax into it that Hanbin pushes his boxers down. (Taking them all the way off, too, because he’s extra.) Hao takes a deep breath and forces himself to count to ten, and focuses on the sensation of Hanbin’s hand on his hip. He can feel Hanbin lean slightly away to get lube outside of their bedside table drawer, but the hand on his hip doesn’t move.
Finally, Hao feels Hanbin lightly circle his rim with his forefinger, before pushing it inside quicker than Hao was expecting. He inhales sharply in surprise as Hanbin starts to fuck him- slow, firm, unbearably good. Hanbin knows his body like no one ever has, and knows how to take him apart. He’s had three years to learn what moans mean Hao is ready for more, so Hao affects the depraved, pleading tone he knows Hanbin is waiting for. Hanbin rewards him immediately, fucking his second finger in as well as he continues to gently massage Hao’s hip at the same time.
“Yeah,” Hao says stupidly. “More. Please.” Hao knows Hanbin is smirking as he sinks a third finger into him. He shifts Hao so that he’s lying on his stomach, and Hanbin’s left hand braces to the left of Hao’s shoulder, giving him more leverage to fuck Hao harder. “Yeah, like that, fuck.” It’s sickeningly good, and he wonders if Hanbin is going to let him come like this. He ruts mindlessly against the mattress, desperate for just a little bit of contact, he feels like he could get there if Hanbin just keeps going–
Hanbin doesn’t keep going. With an apologetic kiss to Hao’s shoulder, he removes his fingers, and Hao thinks he might cry. He hears Hanbin lubing himself up which, okay, is hot because it’s hot to hear the sounds of Hanbin touching himself, but still. He’s in agony.
“Hanbin-ah,” he whimpers. He feels hazy, can barely make out Hanbin’s whispered reassurances because he’s just focused on how much he needs Hanbin’s fingers inside him again. He grinds stupidly back on nothing for a moment, before Hanbin grabs his hips and holds them in place.
“Be good,” Hanbin says firmly. He coaxes Hao up on all fours, and Hao can feel his thick cock rubbing against his hole. Some days, Hanbin won’t push inside until they’ve stayed in this position for a few moments, making him beg for it, but today he’s kind and gives him the tip immediately. He gives Hao a millisecond to adjust, kisses his sweaty neck in apology, before fucking the rest of his cock inside. It’s overwhelming, in the way it always is. It’s too much, but perfect. Hanbin knows how to push him to the brink of what he can take and not pull back.
Hao can’t help it, the way he immediately submits when Hanbin starts to fuck him in earnest. He manages only a few seconds of staying on his hands and knees (he’s proud of himself for it) before he feels his energy start to fade, and lets himself collapse, lying flat on his stomach, hips held up by Hanbin’s strong hands as he fucks him.
“Fuck,” Hanbin says, when it happens. He loves Hao like this– pliant, at his mercy. He finds it romantic, because he’s a freak. And Hao can’t even judge, because he’s the same. “Just take it, baby. That’s it.”
That’s the thing about Hanbin’s perfect, polite boyfriend– he fucks nasty. And he won’t stop until Hao is incoherent, and practically drooling.
“Yeah, yeah,” Hao manages to get out. “Fuck. So big.” He doesn’t say it to stroke Hanbin’s ego; if anything, he wishes he could be more withholding on that particular point to keep him on his toes. Hanbin’s cock being big is an irrefutable fact- he knows it, hell, anyone watching their concerts knows it. (Hao doesn’t particularly like that fact, but unless he manages to either instill a ban against Hanbin wearing tight pants at all future concerts or forces him to actually tuck, there’s nothing he can really do about it.) And okay, fine, it’s not like Hanbin even has a huge ego about, but he’s smug. He’s smug to know that Hao hasn’t been with anyone as big as him. And Hao feeds that smugness, because he’s fundamentally unable to not bring it up while he’s being fucked.
“Yeah?” Hanbin says, and, sure enough, Hao hears the smugness in his tone. “You like how big I am? You like how I fuck you?”
Hao moans pathetically, but can’t speak. Because, well. That’s the thing about sex with Hanbin. Him being big is hot and everything (Hao is who he is, sue him, he likes feeling it that deep) but it’s how Hanbin fucks him that makes Hao insane. Hanbin can, and does repeatedly, take him apart equally well with just his fingers or tongue. It’s partly the confidence with which he does it. He’s had three years to learn how to make Hao moan, how to run his fingers over his stomach to turn him on, how to make Hao feel like they are fully becoming one person.
He also knows how to make Hao fucking incoherent.
“Yeah, feels so good, god, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Hao pleads, and he’s hit that peak where his mind is completely blank, all he can feel is pleasure, even if the press of the mattress against his cock isn’t giving him nearly enough relief. He knows this is Hanbin’s favorite part, when Hao’s too fucked out to do anything but beg for it harder, faster, for more, more, more.
“God, baby, you’re so fucking hot,” Hanbin pants, and then in an instant, he’s pulling Hao up on his knees again, pulling him until Hao’s back is pressed flush against Hanbin’s chest. Hao lets out a whimper and Hanbin quickly snakes an arm around Hao’s stomach, palm covering his heart, so Hao doesn’t need to expend any energy to keep himself upright. Which is good, because he might very well have collapsed right there.
He’s deeper like this. Hao can feel his heartbeat, can feel the sweat dripping from Hanbin’s forehead onto his shoulder. His own heart is pounding. The intimacy feels like too much, and that’s when it’s the best. That’s when it feels the most romantic. At his most insane, he’s drafted sappy birthday posts for Hanbin on his private Instagram that allude to how romantic Hanbin is when he fucks him. He worries he might slip up one of these days.
Hanbin sinks his teeth into his neck, and then finally, finally says the words Hao has been patiently waiting for him to say, because he’s good like that. “Touch yourself, baby. It’s okay.”
Hao feels relief flood his cells as he finally takes his cock in hand, giving it a few quick, desperate strokes. He could get there, wants to get there, is almost ready to get himself there. But no, not yet.
“Wanna see you,” Hao says desperately. Hanbin moves before the sentence is even fully out, maneuvering them until Hao is on his back. He slides inside again, and at Hao’s insistent whine moves Hao’s legs until they’re over his shoulders so he can go deeper.
There’s nothing like seeing Hanbin on the verge of coming. Every aspect of it makes Hao feel like he’s in heaven, when it’s clear Hanbin is so far gone and is just letting himself finally, finally, give himself over fully to pleasure. It feels primal, seeing Hanbin’s sweat dripping down his chest, the intense look in his eyes, the way he looks at Hao like he wants to consume him whole. The way his breathing goes ragged and his moans increase to a “neighbor complaint” level and all he can do is fuck Hao harder, and harder, and harder.
(Hao feels a sharp, horny thrill every time he thinks about what people would say if they knew that Sung Hanbin, MNet’s golden boy; Sung Hanbin, the gentle, kind young man who everyone wants to introduce their daughters to; Sung Hanbin, the ultimate, perfect, wonderful idol- fucks his boyfriend like a dog in heat.)
“Want you to come,” Hanbin finally gets out, because that’s one of his things- Hao always has to come first.
Hao strokes his cock faster. “Nearly there, just a little more, please, please, please, please, I love you so much–”
It’s the I love you that does it. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Hanbin’s pace turns punishing, and his face an expression of pure bliss. He pounds into him like he’s determined to make Hao feel it for days, and then Hao feels his vision go blurry and he comes over both of them.
He loops his arms around Hanbin, hugging him, letting Hanbin’s weight cover him entirely as he thrusts a few more times, before coming deep inside him.
They stay together like that for a few moments, Hao nearly unconscious, enjoying the comforting weight of Hanbin’s body on top of him like a blanket. He lets out a small whine as Hanbin pulls out, and is relieved when Hanbin quickly turns him over on his side and slots in behind him, resuming the position they were in at the very beginning.
He lets himself doze for an hour, making pitiful, disgruntled noises every time Hanbin gets up, which, to be fair, is only twice (once to get a washcloth to clean them up, once to get water). When he finally feels like he can keep his eyes open, he expends the last of his energy to put on sweatpants and one of Hanbin’s t-shirts. Then, Hanbin carries him into the living room and wraps him in blankets on the couch. Sansan bounds over to him instantly as Hanbin retreats into the kitchen to get some ice cream out of the freezer.
Of course, Hao isn’t exactly sure how he’s going to actually eat the ice cream, because by the time Hanbin returns with the bowl, Sansan has taken his place in Hao’s lap with no intention of moving.
It’s nice having a huge beautiful warm dog act as his blanket, Hao would never say otherwise. But it does occasionally make cuddling with his boyfriend hard.
Fortunately, said huge beautiful warm dog has fallen asleep, so Hanbin manages to slide in next to Hao by going around to the back of the couch and climbing over. Hao opens his mouth expectantly, and Hanbin feeds him a spoonful of ice cream.
“I like that talking about marriage turns you on,” Hanbin says, as soon as they’re finished with the ice cream and he’s able to fully wrap himself around Hao.
“Not in front of the baby!” Hao says, covering Sansan’s ears. “And you’re the one who initiated, so…” Hanbin just laughs.
Eventually, Hanbin does finish organizing the closet. He explains the new organization system to Hao as they wind down for bed, and Hao listens attentively, pleased that it does seem both efficient and easy to remember. (Even his post-sex-haze brain can handle it, which is definitely a good sign.) He praises Hanbin for it, and Hanbin beams.
As he drifts off to sleep that night, he thinks about how many other things they still need to figure out in terms of their apartment. There’s a long list of pending things for them to sort out- Hao isn’t sure how he feels about the placement of their car selfie photo frame; Hanbin keeps changing his mind about where the shoe rack should go; they both have misgivings about the best place to showcase all of their albums. The plushie storage problem is only going to get worse, given Hao’s claw machine obsession and their idol careers, and Hanbin’s mom is already asking about the state of the guest bedroom.
He feels a rush of excitement at the prospect of it, of all of it. He wishes he could go back in time and tell his younger self to hang in there after every heartbreak, after every boy who wasn’t right. One day, you’re going to have a husband, and he’ll be perfect, he’d say. One day, nothing will make you happier than hearing him talk about organizing your clothes.
–
Hao is having one of those weeks that’s a Long Week, worse than normal. They’re in the throes of prep for AND2BLE’S debut; he should know how this goes by now. But still, he’s petulant about it. He just wants to fast forward to the good part. He wants to kiss his boyfriend. He wants to re-debut. In that order of importance.
The group eat a late dinner together after their final practice, and Hao praises himself for his ability to socialize and do all the good leader things instead of sinking into his chair and going nonverbal. By the time they say goodnight and he makes it back to his dorm, he’s ready to collapse into bed.
Hao knows he should just sleep at the dorm, given he’s now been up for 18 hours and he’s currently already in his dorm. He should get into bed and rejoice at the fact that he’s finally arrived at two sequential days off, one and a half of which coincide with his boyfriend’s. He should be asleep right now. He should get a good night’s sleep, and go over to their apartment tomorrow afternoon, at which point Hanbin will also be back from his 2-night group trip and they can cuddle and fuck and play with Sansan and eat some nice food. There’s no reason for him to go home now, when Hanbin isn’t even there.
But he can’t make himself actually take the steps towards his bedroom. He’s still standing in the entryway, shoes still on, because he does feel the pull to go home. And with Yujin out at an all-night gaming cafe, only Sansan is there to tell him to stop being an idiot and go to bed. And Hao isn’t sure Sansan is up for that; Sansan had excitedly run up to Hao as soon as he came through the door, but has since been sitting down very patiently in front of him as Hao continues to not move further into the dorm. (An angel. Hanbin’s training has really paid off.)
“You miss him too,” Hao says sagely. “I can tell.” Sansan has predominantly been living at their apartment, but will come to Hao’s dorm when Hanbin’s schedule is too busy or when, like tonight, Hanbin isn’t home. Hao’s glad to have him, but he also feels guilty to take Sansan away from the place where all his favorite bones and stuffed animals to destroy live.
When looking it through that lens, the decision feels much easier. He’s going to get a head start on re-acclimating Sansan to their home; that’s the responsible pet owner thing to do. (Hanbin would be proud.) He can clean in advance of Hanbin’s arrival, as well. Hanbin will appreciate that after his trip.
It’s decided, then. He sends a quick text to his manager, as apologetic as he can manage, and then retrieves Sansan’s leash from the coat rack. Sansan leaps up excitedly, which Hao gets. He’s excited too. “Let’s go home and see Appa, yeah?”
-
As soon as they make it inside the apartment, Hao takes off his shoes and puts his bag in the bedroom. He doesn’t let himself linger, even as he jealously sees Sansan running into the room and flopping happily at the foot of their bed. He could just sleep now, and knows he probably should, but a greater part of him is driven to make the apartment nice and welcoming for Hanbin’s return tomorrow. He’d rather do it now, before collapsing into bed, than waking up tomorrow with the need to do it hanging over his head like a persistent fly. If he gets it over with now, he can truly sleep in tomorrow.
Because this is a place where Hanbin lives, it’s rare there’s actually a true mess to clean up and not just normal upkeep. The relative messiness in the kitchen that Hao comes across makes his heart sink; it’s a sign Hanbin’s had a stressful week, more stressful than he’d let on in texts and calls.
Hao makes quick work of tidying up the kitchen, throwing out some old takeout containers from the fridge and wiping down the counter. He lingers at the fridge, looking over the latest of the post its Hanbin had left for him. It’s one of Hanbin’s new things; he always leaves a note every time he leaves their apartment. There’s no new one, which Hao expected- Hanbin hasn’t been back in time to leave a new one before Hao’s surprise early arrival– but taking a few minutes to read all of the past post-its in chronological order is something Hao will always make time for.
I love you and our new home!!!!!!
Drink the smoothie I made for you in the fridge. Not much sugar, the way you like it ㅋㅋㅋ
Jjanghao, fighting for today too!!!
Don’t miss me too much today ㅋㅋㅋ
I love you ♡
It’s cold today, don’t forget your hand warmers!!
Pet Yujinnie’s head for me at the shoot later ㅋㅋㅋ
Your turn to pick up milk jjanghao~
My jjangguri [drawing of a raccoon]
Come home to me safely ♡
See you in two days my love ♡♡♡
Don’t forget to get more toothpasteㅋㅋㅋ
It’s warm today!! Enjoy the sunshine!! I love you!!
I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you
How lucky I am to get to love you ♡
He feels his eyes fill with happy, stupid tears, and his exhaustion evaporates. He takes a photo of every single one, even the ones he already has photos of, and then grabs the stack of unused post-it notes on the counter next to the fridge, along with a pen.
He moves to sit on the couch and props the post its against his knee. He wishes he had more words for everything he felt, that he could do what Hanbin can do so easily. It’s not a language thing; he doesn’t think he’d be able to do it in Chinese either. Whereas Hanbin can seemingly pick the most romantic sentences of all time off of trees.
Eventually, he reminds himself Hanbin will love anything he does, and it gets him over his self-consciousness enough to sketch out a Hanini and Binini holding hands. He encircles them with a heart, and then gives Hanini a speech bubble and writes: “I love you very much.”
He starts to doodle around the border of the post-it note with hearts, and figures he can probably do that okay lying down. Fool’s mistake.
When he wakes up, it’s to Hanbin kissing his forehead.
“Hanbin-ah?” Hao murmurs groggily. He’s unable to fully open his eyes, but it can’t be Hanbin. Hanbin’s not supposed to be here.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” Hanbin says soothingly. “It’s just me.”
The sound of his voice is like a splash of cold water. In an instant, Hao gets up and flings himself into Hanbin’s arms.
Hanbin lets out a surprised laugh at the sheer force of Hao’s hug, but he reciprocates as tightly.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Hao says, when he finally lets Hanbin breathe again. “You’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow, what happened to the overnight trip?”
“Ah, yeah, well…” Hanbin smiles sheepishly. “It’s still going on. But! It’s the last night, I’m not missing much filming, and I let the guys know and they supported me ducking out a little early, so…”
“And by ‘the guys’ I hope you mean the director and producer?” Hao knows that’s not what he means.
“Um… well… more like Jiwoong-hyung, Gunwookie, Ma–”
“Hanbin!”
“Baby, I’m not going to get in trouble, I promise. I texted PD-nim a very good excuse. Wanna know what it was?” Hao doesn’t take the bait, and continues to give him his best unamused glare. Hanbin is, of course, unfazed. “Well, I told them that I haven’t seen my boyfriend in too long and it’s making me a little insane. And if they want me to be at my peak performance, it’s in their best interest to let me go see him when I miss him like that.” Hanbin brings his hands to Hao’s waist, and makes what Hao internally refers to as “intense Hanbin eye contact.” It makes him feel fuzzy, which is ruining the vibe he’s currently trying to go for. “I’ve missed you.”
Hao manages exactly two more seconds of mock-affront before giving up and letting the giddy smile return to his face. “I’ve missed you too,” Hao says, putting his hands over Hanbin’s. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble, okay? So be smart. Kiss me.”
Hanbin complies immediately, pulling him in for a kiss that starts out chaste but soon ends up with Hanbin’s tongue working its way into his mouth. And maybe they’re both exhausted, maybe they shouldn’t be doing this, but there’s something so irrefutably hot to Hao, every time he realizes they’re still like this.
“Okay, okay,” Hao says when he finally manages to break away, laughing as Hanbin whines and dives right back into kissing his neck. “No more! You need to sleep. And to see your child! You can’t neglect your parental duties, you know.”
“Don’t worry, I went and saw him first. I got him a new toy. I’ll show you.” Hanbin leans down and picks Hao up, bridal style, and begins to carry him to the bedroom.
“So gentlemanly,” Hao says, when he’s safely deposited on their bed. He looks over to where Sansan is curled up on his dog bed, and sure enough, he’s currently delightedly chewing on a gigantic stuffed ear of corn. “Oh cuteeee.” He immediately pulls out his phone.
Hanbin gives him a light kiss and goes to get pajamas for them, as Hao takes a billion photos of Sansan and the corn. He accepts the matching pajamas Hanbin holds out to him, but doesn’t make a move to undress yet. Hanbin gives him an unimpressed look, and Hao just shrugs, gesturing at him to carry on.
“Do you think people know how much you objectify me?” Hanbin asks, as he pulls his shirt off.
“Hm, probably not,” Hao says, barely paying attention. He places his palm squarely over Hanbin’s pec. “Ugh, you’re so hot. Let me see your dick.”
Hanbin laughs, but pushes down his sweatpants and underwear anyway. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” Hao says seriously. “Just give me ten seconds.” He makes a big show of looking Hanbin up and down, which makes Hanbin laugh.
“3… 2… 1… andddd you’re done!” Hanbin says in one of his cutest voices, and then goes to pull on his sleep shorts. Hao groans in protest, but then the tiredness finally seeps back into his bones and he knows he’s got exactly 5 minutes of getting-ready-for-bed activities in him before he completely crashes. He hastily puts on his pajamas and runs to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do a very abridged skincare routine, with Hanbin following closely behind him.
It’s the ultimate relief when they’re both back in bed afterwards. When Hanbin’s arms are wrapped around his middle and his chest is pressed into Hao’s back, when Sansan is curled up at the foot of the bed, when all Hao needs to do is fall asleep. He’s just about to, before his brain reminds him of the thing he needs to say to Hanbin. “Thank you for always writing the notes. I love them.”
Hanbin kisses his neck softly. “Of course.”
“I wrote you one back. Before you got home.”
“Mm. I saw, it’s so cute. My Hanini and Binini,” Hanbin says cutely, as he stifles a yawn.
“Did you put it on the fridge?”
“Of course I did. Thank you for drawing it, baby. You must’ve been tired.”
“Is that you saying it’s bad? That it looks like I must’ve been half-asleep when I drew it?” Hao asks, mock offended. He turns around in Hanbin’s arms, and debates what part of Hanbin’s body he should bite in retribution. He goes for the shoulder.
Hanbin yelps a little bit, but just laughs. “No. It’s a perfect drawing, love. Thank you for making it for me.”
Satisfied, Hao relents and turns back around in Hanbin’s arms. “You’re welcome. And I hope you’re honored to know that you’re the only boy in the world I’d give up sleep to draw a picture for.”
Hanbin kisses him. “I am. But don’t talk about other boys, baby. You know how I get, and we don’t have time for me to fuck you tonight.”
Hao’s words make a spike of arousal pass through his body like electricity. “Or…”
“No. Sleep.” Hanbin turns off their bedside light, and snuggles up behind Hao before he can sigh too loudly.
They settle down to sleep. Hao knows he should just let himself succumb to it, but part of him doesn’t want to be separated from Hanbin even by temporary unconsciousness. He knows it’s stupid, but it makes him restless enough he can’t manage to fall asleep. He can tell Hanbin isn’t asleep either, which is why he only feels a little guilty when he asks: “Bin-ah?”
“Mm?” Oh. He might be sleepier than Hao thought. Well, he’s in it now.
“Could you talk at me until I fall asleep?” It’s something they’ve done since the start, on phone call nights. Doing it in person is a switch up, but naturally, Hanbin isn’t fazed.
“Sure,” He says. “I’ll make it boring so you fall asleep.”
“Perfect.”
He launches into an analysis of the blankets they currently have in their living room, the benefits and drawbacks of stacking them in various orders, of the different ways he thinks he’s going to start practicing folding them, and Hao loves him so much he could die.
Hang in there, he says, again imagining his younger self. One day, someone will love you enough to monologue to you about blankets to help you fall asleep. One day, someone is going to leave you notes every day telling you he loves you.
–
Their anniversary comes up sooner than Hao expects. He has it marked on his phone calendar, of course, and it’s on the calendar on their fridge (“3 years!!!!” written hugely, surrounded by hearts and cherry blossoms, courtesy of Hanbin). But they’re both gearing up for their comebacks, endless days blurring together, and Hao is so, so relieved that he had the sense to sort out his letter a few weeks earlier.
Hao had proposed months earlier that they make their anniversary plans this year simple; dinner, no gifts except for heartfelt letters. His reasoning was simple. Hanbin, wonderful Hanbin, always did The Most for anniversaries, and while that was more than appreciated and loved, it wasn’t something he’d necessarily need on his plate while also preparing for a comeback. Hanbin had protested, and reminded Hao that, to him, planning a beautiful anniversary celebration wasn’t something he considered as being “on his plate,” but a joyful addition to his days. Hao had told Hanbin firmly that this was not up for discussion. They had both found Hao’s strictness on this topic sexy. An agreement had been reached.
The day they land on- not their actual anniversary, but close enough to it- isn’t ideal. Hao has wall-to-wall schedules; Hanbin has a schedule and an NCT Wish concert (special invitation courtesy of Sion). Hao wonders if he’s going to just spend the entire time half asleep at the table, wishing they’d just decided to celebrate it in bed.
But of course, that isn’t what happens. When Hao is actually sitting in the restaurant next to the Paris decal in the window, waiting for Hanbin’s arrival, he’s thrumming with energy. And when Hanbin arrives, wearing a simple hoodie, plain t-shirt and jeans and still looks like a fucking model, because of course he does, Hao feels exactly the same way he did when he first ever laid eyes on him.
“Hi,” Hao says stupidly, giving him a little half wave. Hanbin laughs, a little bemused, and pulls him into a hug. It’s over too quick, and makes Hao once again resent how careful they have to be while out in public, but it still does something to dissipate Hao’s nerves.
The sobering realization that he is nervous fills him with muted horror. He’s nervous about being on a date with his boyfriend of three years.
He’s just not used to this. They don’t get to go out a lot for obvious reasons, and anyway, Hao likes their domesticity. He imagines even if they weren’t famous, he’d still prefer the nights home. Nothing makes him happier than being in their home, surrounded by all their things, knowing he can kiss Hanbin whenever he wants without worry.
“Are you okay?” Hanbin asks, after they’ve ordered and gotten their drinks. “You seem a little…” He lets the sentence hang, and Hao knows what he’s politely not saying, that Hao is being weird. He keeps adjusting his shirt, shifting in his seat, and not making a deadpan joke about Hanbin’s messy hair. He’s off his game, and of course his stupid soulmate would notice instantly.
“Ugh, okay. I’m nervous,” Hao says plainly. He can’t be anything other than straightforward; he’s not wired that way. Especially not with his boyfriend. “It feels like a first date.”
Unsurprisingly, Hanbin laughs. His face is pure delight. “Oh! I love that!”
“Hanbin-ahhh,” Hao whines, “Don’t make fun of me.” Hanbin keeps laughing, so Hao flicks a piece of watermelon at him.
“Ah!” Hanbin yelps. He gives Hao a kind smile. “I’m not making fun of you, baby. I think it’s sweet. After all this time, you still feel nervous around me.” He stares off dreamily for a moment. “The prettiest boy in the world, gets nervous around me. Ah! I’m lucky.” He giggles, and picks up the fallen watermelon with his chopsticks and pops it into his mouth.
“Just the world?” Hao prompts.
“The planet! Planets. The whole solar system. The galaxy! Is there something bigger than that? You’re the scientist.” He reaches his hand down under the table and gives Hao’s thigh a squeeze.
Hao can’t help but smile. The touch calms him instantly, and he relaxes into his seat. “Okay, okay. I’m normal now. Tell me about the concert.”
They chat amiably, Hanbin describing the concert and how shy he got when they put the camera on him, and Hao mentally cursed everyone who got to perceive Hanbin. He catches Hanbin up on his day, telling him a funny anecdote about a dumb prank Gyuvin tried and failed to play on Ricky, and they eat until they’re full. There’s still the guardedness that always exists when they’re out in public, and Hao resents the fact that he can’t just kiss his boyfriend in public on their anniversary like he wants to, but by the time they make it to the car to go home, he feels supremely content.
But nothing can match the feeling he gets when they’re back home in their pajamas, curled up together on the couch, Sansan at their feet. When he’s telling Hanbin about the plot of a deranged vertical drama he started on a schedule break today and Hanbin is asking active listening questions because he might have zero interest in these shows but he has a very strong interest in Hao.
These moments when they don’t have to be Kpop Idols Zhang Hao and Sung Hanbin, but just two twentysomethings in love. These moments where it feels like nothing else exists but them.
When there’s finally a lull in the conversation, Hao throws Hanbin a bone. “Okay, you’ve been patient. Wanna do the letters?”
“Yes,” Hanbin says instantly, and bounds off the couch to grab his discarded bag. My perfect, stupid puppy boyfriend, Hao thinks, reaching for the pocket of the jacket he had thrown over the sofa containing his own letter.
When Hanbin comes back and sits himself down on the couch facing Hao, his hands clutching the letter are already shaking.
“Baby,” Hao says, and his eyes already start to fill up with tears. Nervous Hao might be cute to Hanbin; nervous Hanbin makes Hao want to weep.
“No, it’s okay, I’m fine, it’s just,” Hanbin takes a breath and then composes himself. “I know I’m going to be insane when I read whatever you’ve written, I’ll definitely cry, and probably not be in a place to like, have a normal conversation after, so I think I’m just like, uh. Anticipating that. Anticipating how I feel when I read stuff you’ve written to me.”
“I’m gonna be worse,” Hao says, shaking his head. “You always make me cry. I love you, but you do.” He kisses Hanbin gently, and gives him a small smile while taking the letter out of his hand. “That’s why we’re perfect.”
The smile that crosses Hanbin’s face is one of beautiful relief. “Yeah,” he agrees. “We are. Okay.” He takes Hao’s letter from him. “Let’s do it on three. Okay?”
(Hang in there, Hao thinks to his younger self. One day, you’ll exchange letters on your anniversary and count down to opening them.)
“Okay,” Hao agrees. “But after this, when we’re doing crying and all that, we have to take one good photo to send to our moms. Okay? We can’t forget. And we’ll have to tell them that it’s good crying because they’ll be able to tell.”
Hanbin nods. “Oh, yeah, good call.”
“Three… two… one.”
–
They do cry after, of course. They cry during. They wipe the tears off of each other’s faces and laugh at the terrible pictures they try to take for their moms, one of which Hao knows he’s going to be receiving as a birthday gift in a huge frame someday, and force each other to drink water. They do their skincare and brush their teeth and debate whose turn it is to make the bed tomorrow morning. They fall asleep, and Hao doesn’t need to dream.
Hang in there, he thinks. One day, you’ll love someone like this.
–
To: Sung Hanbin
Happy anniversary! We’ve been together for three years now!
This is our first anniversary spent not being in the same group. While I wish that weren’t true because it makes me sad, I try to think about it a different way. I’ve started thinking about it like, “this is our first anniversary being just us” which makes me happy. It reminds me that you and I never needed to be in a group to be together. We both know it would’ve happened anyway. We would’ve found each other no matter what. Isn’t that nice to think about?
I wish I could be as romantic as you are with letters. I think I rely a lot on the way you know me better than anyone and can read me better than anyone, so I can be content knowing you know how I feel about you. But just in case, I want to say it anyway. Thank you for being by my side always. Thank you for being my other half. I thought the separation would be so much harder, but I think I forgot that it’s kind of hard to be separated when you’re one person. Now that I have you, I think it would be lonely to walk around with just half of me, so you can’t go anywhere.
Thank you for making our home perfect. Thank you for loving me even when I pout at you and kissing me even when I forget to brush my teeth before bed. Thank you for teaching me how to be gentle. Thank you for making me feel secure and stable even when life isn’t.
I love you very much.
I also am giving you something else. These are Zhang Hao’s List of Affirmations for Sung Hanbin. If you ever doubt yourself or start to be hard on yourself and I’m not there to hug you to make it better (or yell at you until you stop being mean to yourself ㅋㅋㅋ) I want you to read this.
Affirmations for Bingbing by Zhang Hao-nim~
Not everyone deserves how kind you are but that’s okay.
You do not have to be perfect.
Being happy is the most important thing.
I love you exactly the way you are, always have, always will.
Love,
Zhang Hao
–
Dear Zhang Hao,
Because I’ve written you so many letters over the years, and because I know my feelings for you more intimately than I know anything else, I wasn’t expecting this letter to be so difficult to write. Every other time I’ve written you a letter like this, it’s poured out of me. Don’t think that means I don’t love you as much now! ㅋㅋㅋ But I just have so much I want to say to you and no clue where to start. So… bear with me, the way you always do.
I know you know this, but I thought being separated from you might kill me ㅋㅋㅋ I dreaded it from the moment we knew it was happening, and don’t get me wrong, I meant what I said to you in my other letter at the encore. We will find a way to perform together again, and it won’t be taken away. I promise you. It’s only time, and we have so much of that ahead of us. But I’m very sorry that we can’t be together all the time the way we used to, for now. I miss you every moment I’m not with you.
But I don’t feel apart from you at any moment, not really. I know that you’re always a text message or phone call away, but that’s not what I mean. You’re part of me, in every single part of my life. Even when I can’t come home to you, I feel like I do. I feel closer to you than I ever have. I love you more than I ever have.
I’ve told you this before, but it was hard for me to imagine myself with a partner and a home when I was younger. It wasn’t something I planned for. I worked singlemindedly on achieving my goals without time for much else. I think part of me knew that if I pictured it too much, it would become very painful to not have. I told myself that it was okay if I never shared my life with someone, because it felt like an impossibility.
And then I met you. And you made the impossible possible. You made me realize that dreams come true.
When you stumble into the kitchen for a hug as soon as you wake up I remember that dreams come true. When you put your feet under my legs to warm them up I remember that dreams come true. When you sing in the shower and take a hundred photos of Sansan and teach me new words in Chinese and smile when I bring you durian and hold my hand, I remember that dreams come true.
I am so happy that I continue to spend so many precious days with you. I am so happy that we have a home together and Sansan. And I am so happy I am going to marry you. My beautiful, kind, funny, perfect soulmate, who doesn’t want me to be perfect.
Happy three years, my love. I love you more than words can say.
Everything that makes the world beautiful is because of you.
Love,
Hanbin