The Last Train Home || Haobin

Chapter 8: Mixed Signals

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The next few days at Café Étoile were unbearable for Hao. Ever since that kiss in the park, Hanbin had taken every opportunity to tease him, dropping subtle—and not-so-subtle—hints about it at every turn.

It started with small gestures, just enough to make Hao uncomfortable but not enough for anyone else to notice. A brush of fingers when passing trays, a smirk when their eyes met, a playful nudge that lingered a little too long. It all felt intentional, like Hanbin was enjoying watching him squirm.

And Hao was squirming. Big time.

That morning, Hanbin had shown up in his usual cocky fashion, strolling in late but somehow making it seem like he owned the place. He flashed Hao a grin, the kind that made his stomach twist in confusion, before sauntering to his station behind the counter.

"Hey, dongsaeng," Hanbin said, his voice smooth. "You miss me?"

Hao bit the inside of his cheek, determined to ignore him. But that was easier said than done, especially when Hanbin was hovering so close. The memory of that kiss still lingered in the back of Hao’s mind, even though he wished he could forget it. Why does he have to keep bringing it up?

"So," Hanbin said casually as he leaned against the counter, just a little too close for comfort. "About the other day… in the park." He let the words hang in the air, watching Hao's reaction with a smirk.

Hao tensed, his grip tightening around the coffee cup he was holding. "Do you have to keep mentioning it?" he muttered under his breath, hoping the customers couldn’t hear.

Hanbin’s smirk widened. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"It’s just—" Hao stammered, struggling to find the right words. "You can't keep teasing me about it. It was a one-time thing."

Hanbin raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the way Hao was flustered. "Oh, that’s what it was? You sure about that?"

Hao glared at him, trying to keep his composure. "Yes."

But Hanbin wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. "You didn’t seem so sure when you were blushing afterward." He grinned, and Hao felt his face flush again, despite himself.

"I wasn’t blushing!" Hao protested, though he knew it was a lie. He could still feel the heat creeping up his neck, the way his heart had raced in that moment.

"Right," Hanbin said, drawing out the word as if he didn’t believe a single syllable.

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Later that day, when the café had a rare lull in customers, Hanbin struck again.

They were restocking supplies in the back, and the small, enclosed space only made the tension between them worse. As Hao stacked coffee beans on the shelf, he could feel Hanbin’s presence behind him, looming closer.

"You're really bad at avoiding me, you know that?" Hanbin's voice was low, playful, and it sent an involuntary shiver down Hao’s spine.

Hao didn’t turn around. "I’m not avoiding you. I’m working."

"Sure you are," Hanbin said, his tone dripping with amusement.

Hao busied himself with the shelves, but then, out of nowhere, Hanbin leaned in, his lips dangerously close to Hao's ear. "Remember this?" he whispered.

Hao’s heart skipped a beat, but before he could react, Hanbin grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around. Hao barely had time to register what was happening before Hanbin’s lips were on his again—quick, rough, and completely unexpected.

The kiss was brief but intense, leaving Hao frozen in place, his mind racing. He pushed Hanbin away, stumbling back into the shelf, knocking over a canister of sugar.

"Hanbin, what the hell—" Hao gasped, his pulse pounding in his ears. He stared at him, wide-eyed, still trying to process what had just happened.

Hanbin just smirked, wiping his mouth casually with the back of his hand. "Relax," he said, his tone almost dismissive. "It’s not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Hao sputtered, feeling both confused and furious. "You keep—"

Hanbin cut him off, stepping closer again, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Look," he said, his voice dropping, "I’m not gay. Got it?"

Hao blinked, completely thrown off. What? He stared at Hanbin, his mind struggling to catch up. "Then why—"

"Why what?" Hanbin interrupted, his voice sharp but playful. "Why kiss you? It doesn’t have to mean anything. Maybe I just like messing with you." His smirk returned, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.

Hao felt his frustration rising, heat flooding his face. "You can’t just kiss people and then say it doesn’t mean anything, Hanbin!"

Hanbin laughed, though it was a low, careless sound. "Why not? You're fun to mess with."

Hao’s hands clenched into fists, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. "You’re insane."

"Maybe," Hanbin said with a shrug. "But you haven’t exactly pushed me away."

Hao glared at him, his chest tightening. "Just—just stop playing games with me, okay? Please jeez."

Hanbin’s smirk faded slightly, and for a brief moment, there was something serious in his expression, something deeper. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"I’ll think about it," Hanbin said, giving Hao a lazy wink before turning and walking out of the storage room, leaving Hao standing there, heart racing, head spinning.

As the door swung shut behind him, Hao slumped against the shelf, trying to make sense of everything. What the hell is going on? Hanbin's words echoed in his head—I’m not gay. Why the teasing? And why did it affect him so much?

Hao buried his face in his hands, groaning in frustration. Whatever game Hanbin was playing, it was driving him insane.

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