yours forever and only | haobin

8.

Hanbin, who had perched on the edge of the bed, had discarded his suit and now shifted slowly, deliberately. Without breaking eye contact, he climbed onto the bed, his knees pressing gently into the mattress as he moved one leg on either side of Hao's hips, hovering over him like a quiet shield.

The closeness should have been intimidating, but the way Hanbin carried himself, so gentle, so patient, melted away the last bit of fear that clung to Hao.

His hands planted themselves softly on the bed, one on either side of Hao's head, caging him in, but not trapping—protecting. It was like Hanbin was offering Hao the safety he hadn't known he needed. The small, almost imperceptible space between them was thick with warmth and unspoken emotion.

Hanbin's voice came softly, tenderly. "We'll go slow," he whispered, his breath brushing against Hao's skin, his tie resting across his chest. "Only what you're comfortable with. Tell me and I'll stop."

Hao's chest tightened at the words, a swell of gratitude and nervous anticipation rising inside him. He tilted his head up, allowing himself to take in Hanbin's steady gaze, eyes filled with so much care it almost hurt. He didn't know how Hanbin could read him so well, how he could sense the smallest shifts in his mood, but he trusted him. That trust, though new and fragile, felt real.

Slowly, Hanbin leaned down, his lips hovering over Hao's for just a moment before pressing them softly together.

The kiss was slow, tender, like the softest brush of wind against his skin. Every movement was deliberate, careful—Hanbin's way of letting Hao know he was in control, that he could stop or pull away at any moment.

Hao pressed back but with more fervour, yearning for more of this—this feeling he had never felt before. His breath caught in his throat as Hanbin deepened the kiss, his hands instinctively finding Hanbin's waist, trembling slightly but steadying the more they connected.

Hanbin's hands drifted from the mattress down to Hao's body, sliding gently along his sides, as though every touch was a promise. His fingertips barely grazed Hao's skin, each contact deliberate, unhurried, letting Hao feel the care behind it. As their lips moved together, Hanbin's body pressed softly into Hao's without fully resting his weight on him, like he wanted to be close without overwhelming him.

The bed creaked softly as Hanbin re-adjusted himself, his arms still framing Hao on either side, creating a cocoon of warmth and protection. With each shift, each gentle press of lips, it was like Hanbin was reminding him over and over again: I'm here. You're safe with me.

Hao's breath trembled as he let those words sink in once more. No one had ever said that to him before. His entire life had been filled with people who only wanted to take, leaving him drained, but here was Hanbin, offering nothing but kindness and patience. The walls Hao had built around himself began to crumble, piece by piece, as Hanbin's sincerity wrapped around him. For the first time, Hao felt like he could truly believe it—that maybe, just maybe, he was worth this kind of tenderness, this kind of love.

"Hao," Hanbin murmured, pulling back slightly, just enough to speak, his forehead resting against Hao's. His breath was warm against Hao's skin, sending a shiver down his spine. "You're worth all the love in this world." It was as if he could read his mind. His thumb gently traced the curve of Hao's cheek, wiping away the stray tears that had formed again.

The words hit Hao in the chest, so soft, so full of sincerity, that he couldn't help the small sob that escaped him. His heart was so full—of gratitude, of fear, of longing. His hands clutched at Hanbin's sides, as if grounding himself in the moment.

Hanbin's gaze softened even more, his hands cupping Hao's face with the utmost gentleness, like Hao was something fragile he was determined not to break. "My little crybaby," he whispered, his thumb brushing away another tear. "It's okay. You don't have to hold anything back with me."

The way Hanbin looked at him, like he was something precious, something worthy, overwhelmed Hao. He wasn't used to this—being cared for like this, being held so gently, like he mattered. But in this moment, he allowed himself to believe, just for a second, that maybe he was. Maybe, with Hanbin, he could be.

"I'm trying," Hao whispered with the newfound courage, his voice barely audible. "I'm trying to believe I deserve this."

Hanbin's lips curled into a small, gentle smile as he leaned in once more, pressing a soft kiss to Hao's forehead. "You do," he whispered, his voice steady and full of promise. "And I'll remind you every day until you believe it yourself."

With a voice choked with emotion, Hao whispered, "Thank you... thank you for believing in me when I can't even believe in myself." His voice cracked slightly, each word heavy with the weight of his feelings. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady himself.

Hanbin held Hao close, his touch tender and reassuring. "You don't need to thank me," Hanbin murmured, his voice soft and sincere. "You deserve all this and more. I'm just grateful to be here with you, to show you how much you're worth."