Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Hanbin sat on the steps outside Hao’s apartment for hours, knocking softly on the door every so often, hoping Hao would answer. He was exhausted, the worry and guilt weighing on him, but he didn’t want to leave without making things right. Eventually, he dozed off, slumping against the railing as the night grew colder.
Hanbin’s eyes fluttered open to the soft morning light filtering through the hallway windows. For a moment, he was disoriented, feeling the rough metal railing digging into his back and the chill of the early morning air. Then he noticed the blanket draped over him and felt a surge of warmth. He sat up slowly, spotting a small note tucked under his hand.
"You can come in - Hao."
The words were simple, but they filled Hanbin with a wave of relief and hope. Without hesitation, he rose to his feet, his muscles stiff from the night spent on the steps, and made his way up to Hao’s door. Quietly, he let himself in, glancing around the familiar space that felt like a second home.
Inside the dimly lit room, Hao was curled up on his bed, his blanket pulled up around his shoulders. As Hanbin approached, he noticed tear streaks staining Hao's cheeks, his eyes red and glossy.
Hanbin's heart clenched as he took in the sight. He sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush a thumb across Hao’s cheek. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, almost breaking.
Hao glanced up at him, his gaze shy but vulnerable, and whispered, “You called me a friend.”
The words came out in a small, pouty voice, and though there was pain in Hao’s eyes, he looked so adorably frustrated that Hanbin couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. He’s sulking, Hanbin realized. And he’s unbelievably cute.
Hanbin gently pulled Hao into a hug, feeling the warmth of him as he held him close. “I’m so sorry, Hao,” he murmured into his hair. “I didn’t mean it. My mouth… it just did that on its own.”
Hao leaned into the hug, but he still looked up at him, eyes questioning. “But… if you felt jealous, why did you say I’m only a friend? Wouldn’t you want to say the opposite?”
Hanbin sighed, his arms tightening around Hao. “I know it doesn’t make sense. I guess I panicked,” he admitted, his voice laced with self-reproach. “Seeing you and Zi Han together… it messed with my head. I was worried she’d want you back. And the idea of losing you—” He stopped, swallowing hard as he tried to find the right words. “I thought saying ‘friend’ would help me feel… safe, somehow.”
Hao’s expression softened as he listened, though he still looked hurt. “You won’t lose me, Hanbin,” he whispered, pressing a hand gently to Hanbin’s cheek. “But it’s hard to believe in what we have when you don’t want anyone to know about us.”
