Chapter Text
His eyes are following the windshield wipers, left and right, left and right. Little drops of rain paint the glass quickly after, just to be collected again.
Hanbin finds it relaxing—watching the wet circles reflect the lights from the outside world in infinite little fragments of whites and then the colors of the main traffic light at the end of the street.
Music is playing, of course. Loud, but not enough to make a migraine appear. It's a light, constant wave of sound that holds his hand and keeps him company, with reassuring notes that act like a painkiller.
This one night, the lights feel warmer, and the people he occasionally catches on the street seem to move slower, just the way he liked it best.
In retrospect, Hanbin thinks that the reason why that night, specifically, appeared to be more bearable for him was because Hao was going to appear soon.
It happens when he's texting a person in his class about the lesson of the next day. Mid-text, a knock makes his head turn to the window on his left with wide eyes.
He breaks down the glass barrier between the two of them, and the whole world gains brightness.
“Hi there," Hao looks at him with a hand wrapped around the handle of a black umbrella and a black coat hanging from his shoulders.
Hanbin doesn't get to ponder too hard on it. "Would you like to get inside?"
The other man mirrors surprise, just for a split second, before he flashes a smile and starts walking around the car.
With instincts kicking in harshly, Hanbin closes his window and snaps the passenger door handle to help Hao any way he can.
He straightens his back and turns down the volume of the stereo a little, enough to not be rude towards Hao. Enough so that he can listen to whatever the other has to say to him, whatever he wants to share.
“Thank you.” Hao is quick to say when he takes a seat with a loud huff of air and places the umbrella by his feet. “Thank God you asked, I was freezing."
Hao lets out a small giggle as he gets rid of the coat, wiggling out of it with his shoulders and making Hanbin smile in return.
"Don't worry," he simply answers, moving his hand to fix the heat settings on the console of the car. He needs to make sure it will be warm for Hao. "I'm sorry we didn't meet at the elevator tonight."
“Not a problem, that's why I'm here." He says it's like it hasn't just made Hanbin's whole week. "What are you doing, anyway? I saw you here the other night too.”
Hanbin stares at Hao's hands softly rubbing against each other to probably warm himself up, then he moves to the pretty, pink strands of hair that seem to be slightly humid from the occasional raindrops.
"It's quiet," Hanbin tells him in the middle of his studying every particular of Hao he can.
“Quiet?”
Hanbin hums. “I can listen to music in peace or just relax in general after practice. When I'm in the room, all I can think about is work and work."
Hao nods, in a rather polite way, and his lips jut out to form a small pout. "I would read in my car too probably, if I had one."
It sounds weirdly comforting. Hanbin is used to comfort. His favorite artists playing his favorite music, the vinyls he meticulously organizes in his room that soothe his chest. Or Matthew ordering the most delicious food when he's having a breakdown or when he's so sad he can't even move or get out of his bed.
This, however, is a different type of comfort. It's a feeling he craves more and more as the seconds go by.
"You like to read?"
Hao hums positively. "It helps with taking a break from playing the same piece over and over again for hours," he rolls his eyes. "It also teaches me new words and helps me understand the language better."
“You can borrow my car whenever you like, then.” Which he thinks is such a ridiculous thing to say, but Hao laughs in a booming, small laugh that fills his chest with pride.
“That's a very dangerous offer, Hanbin.” Hao's eyes narrow, and he throws the coat on his lap, not caring about the result.
Hanbin's hands move before he can think about doing it. He takes Hao's soft coat and folds it diligently while he replies to the other. "Are you going to set it on fire?"
Hao follows his movements with a lowered head, and they glance shortly at each other when Hanbin is done with the coat and lays it back on Hao's legs. "I don't think so."
"You don't sound convinced at all, and it scares me a little," he sinks back into his seat but makes sure his upper body is turned to Hao.
The older man grins—teasing him, Hanbin assumes, by the new light that glimmers in his eyes. "I will not set your car on fire, I promise."
"Good, I'm quite fond of it," he chuckles, placing one hand around the steering wheel almost thoughtlessly. "Then my invite still stands."
"Am I officially part of the club?"
Hanbin's eyebrows knit. “What club?”
“I don’t know.” The other shrugs. "The book-music after practice club?"
Hanbin laughs with his eyebrows pulling downwards a little at the name. "Pretty long name, don't you think?"
"I'm thinking of selling pins next."
"Oh, so we're talking about a business now?"
Hao gives him a new look, and it's exciting how Hanbin feels himself more drawn to the fresh person by his side. He wants to know more, unlock new expressions and words, and learn how he moves when he finds something funny or how he reacts to other things he hates.
"Not to brag, but I'm kind of a genius," the older man tells him with a smirk. "So I could probably manage to build an impressive business on this."
Hanbin laughs again, a strain in his cheeks when he does so. "Somehow I don't doubt you at all."
Hao moves his hands in the air to gesture something before talking. "Are you tired of listening to music and reading your books alone? Do not despair," he raises his voice, and Hanbin has to turn the other way to burst out in a laugh while the other continues. "You are not alone. Connect with millions of other people who decided to join our club to appreciate art all together."
He has to bring his other hand to his mouth to cover it, but his body trembling is enough to make Hao complain with a loud whine. "Stop laughing, this is serious, Sung Hanbin."
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologizes, gulping down another laugh. "Very serious, yes. You need to write all of that down as soon as possible before someone plagiarizes it."
"You're mocking me, and I don't like you very much right now," Hao's forehead creases. "The club is officially disbanded."
"When did it even start?"
Hao shows him a pretty shocked face, with his lips parted to form a perfect little "o" and his eyes dropping. "Maybe I will set your car on fire."
Hanbin clears his throat at the threat being delivered with too much cuteness for him to take seriously. "Okay, how about we just meet every day after practice to exchange stuff we like?"
"Stuff we like?" Hao repeats in a whisper, rolling his eyes to the roof of the car and humming. "You mean like talking about books while listening to music?"
He moves his head up and down. "You also have a new record player, so it seems fitting," he is reminded of something then. "Is it a record player or a turntable, by the way? I didn't ask you the first time you came by the shop."
Hao's facial features look like a painting right now, or maybe a statue. A soft beauty made delicate by infinite hours of work even when sharpness is at the base of it all. He is looking at Hanbin with a stolid expression. "I have no idea what all the words you used mean."
He cackles, shaking his shoulders and clearing his throat. "A record player has built-in amplifiers and small speakers, but with the turntable you only have the basics, which are a tonearm and a cartridge—"
"I'm going to stop you right there," Hao raises a hand in the space between them. "I've been in this country for four years and have been studying full-time, but what you just said was the hardest thing I had to listen to."
They look at each other for a second before they both start laughing.
"It's just a thing where the vinyl plays, and I think it's the second thing you said because I have a separate set of speakers and all of that."
Now, Hanbin is trying really hard to keep his focus on the words being said, but Hao is so close, and he can point out all the small, perfect details of his face as he pouts deeply towards him.
"That's very good then. The sound of the music is perfect when it plays from a turntable."
One little mole right under his eye.
Hao sighs quite dramatically, something that manages to uplift Hanbin's mood even more. “Thank God."
Another one placed perfectly on his other cheek.
"I have a few vinyls I can lend you, by the way. So you don't have to buy them."
A small wrinkle by the side of his mouth that appears when he smiles a certain way.
Hao shares a new smile with him. "That would be very kind of you, thank you."
Hanbin shakes a hand in the air. "It's nothing," he affirms. "What music do you usually listen to?"
"I like pop, mainly." Hao thinks with a finger rubbing his chin. "Ballads, R&B…" he drags his words. "I think that's it. But I listen to a little bit of everything."
Hanbin nods, "I can definitely find something for you."
"Aren't you sweet?" Hao snickers cutely, and Hanbin hopes the heat that reaches his cheeks isn't too noticeable.
He feels like blushing all the time when around Hao, curiously. And he likes the notion a lot. Just as much as he likes Hao.
"How did practice go today?" It's the first thing Hao asks him when he takes place in the passenger's seat.
Hanbin battles with himself to not smile widely just at the sight of the man. "It was good, what about you?"
"Hell," Hao whines as he takes off his jacket. "Pure hell."
Hanbin giggles at the deep pout Hao is showing. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"On a brighter note, I just finished Pride and Prejudice," Hao informs him. "For the sixth time."
Hanbin laughs. "Sixth?"
Hao nods, showing six fingers, "Sixth."
"You like it that much?"
He sees Hao shrugging his shoulders while he searches for something inside his bag. "I don't really know how to explain, but—" he stops for a second to look at Hanbin. "It's real."
Hanbin doesn't really know what it means, but he likes how Hao speaks.
Hanbin likes how Hao talks to him, with a genuine want to communicate and tell him things, especially when it comes to stuff he's interested in.
"Real?"
"Yes, but at the same time a story that feels unattainable."
"What do you mean?" he asks when Hao finally finds what he was looking for. A book appears in his hands, the one they're talking about, he assumes.
"You've never read it?" Hao looks shocked.
He shakes his head, accepting the book that Hao is offering him and twirling it around in his own hands.
"You have to read it."
"I have to?" He flips a few pages and beams at the multitude of tiny notes at the side of each page and words being underlined with a thin strip of pencil. He finds it utterly endearing.
"You have to," he solemnly answers, and it amuses Hanbin.
"Are you just giving it to me?" He knits his eyebrows and glances at the cover.
Hao nods and lifts his legs to tug at the shoelaces of his white sneakers before he takes them off, one after the other. "Yes, I am. You really need to read it."
"I don't think I agreed to be subjected to feet when this club started," he teases Hao by nudging at the shoes being taken off, and the other man threatens to throw the sneaker at him.
"I've been on my feet for hours, just let me have this." Hao defends himself. "And they smell amazing."
Hanbin cracks up. "They're feet, they don't smell amazing."
Hao takes offense at that and shamelessly pushes the leg closer to Hanbin towards him. "Smell them."
"I'm not going to smell your feet," he yells, turning the other way and gently slapping the foot away with the book in his hand.
"Smell them," Hao pushes, laughing. "I use a fragrance for shoes."
"What are you even talking about?"
"It's a thing," Hao argues, dropping his leg and sparing Hanbin of more torture.
"Stop messing with me," he mumbles, turning the volume of the music playing down just a little.
He doesn't think about how it's the first time in his life he has done it when inside his car.
"I'm not kidding, it's a thing you spray in your shoes so they smell good."
Hanbin uses the book as a weapon and cackles wholeheartedly. "I will whack you."
"How dare you use love to beat me, you punk." Hao gasps, rocking his gaze from the book and then to Hanbin.
"Okay, okay, truce." Hanbin lowers his hand, and Hao acts scorned as he puts his feet, covered by white socks, on the glove compartment.
"You're lucky you're cute," he hears Hao whisper under his breath, and his whole week seems to awaken with joy.
They meet at the big glass doors of the building—both smiling at each other as soon as they see the other.
The muffled music from practice room 23 was still loud enough for Hanbin to hear in the hallways, hence why he decided to wait for Hao by the entrance.
And Hao looks as pretty as ever, with a comfortable, heavy hoodie and a simple pair of blue jeans that he somehow manages to make look like an outfit straight out of a magazine.
"Hello, handsome."
"Hi, Hao."
They walk to Hanbin's car, and he is already dreading the heat that creeps to his ears at Hao's greeting.
"You blush a lot, you know?"
"Shut up," he mumbles, embarrassed, and causes Hao to laugh wholeheartedly when they get inside the car. "Are you always this blunt?"
"Me?" Hao points at his chest while getting more comfortable in the seat. "I guess."
"It's very destabilizing."
"Does it make you uncomfortable?"
Hanbin shakes his head as he turns on the heat and also the stereo that connects to his phone quickly. "No, just shy," he admits.
"I can work with shy," Hao grins at him. "I like shy."
He scrolls through his phone a little until he clicks on one song in particular. It's slow, and the voice fills the space while Hao makes himself more comfortable, and so does Hanbin.
"Drunk," Hao reads the title of the song being shown on the small display of the console.
Hanbin hums when he lets the jacket slide off his shoulders and sinks deeper into the seat. "It's very good."
Hao mirrors Hanbin, and they both stay in silence as the mellow notes and sweet voice envelope them. Having Hao's honey-like perfume accompany the music is just the most perfect final touch for Hanbin.
"Careless love, I've had a few?" Hao turns his way with a raised eyebrow and perfect English that shouldn't really surprise him. He has learned that Hao is a pit of endless surprises.
Hanbin smiles, "I don't necessarily see myself in the lyrics, I just like music because it simply is music sometimes."
He sees Hao nodding. "Yes," he whispers, holding his stare when Hanbin tilts his head to him too.
"I like his voice," Hao adds after a few seconds. "It's breathy and very, very soft, like a warm blanket."
Hanbin agrees with a short hum as they listen to the music until it comes to an end.
"Give me," Hao reaches for the phone with a hand, and Hanbin complies quickly. Hao presses on the keyboard a little before giving the phone back to him.
Beautiful piano notes play, and then a male voice comes through the speakers. The melody instantly moves something in him, especially when paired with the tranquil expression on Hao's face as he rests both feet on the glove compartment in front of him and closes his eyes.
Hanbin would like to know what the words of the song are—but he listens anyway, attentive to the new language being sung.
"This is my favorite part," Hao whispers, just a bit louder than the track. "I believe you'll miss me too and worry that I might get lost in this sea of people."
He gulps, suddenly aware of all the sentiment behind the notes.
"It's okay, as long as you're willing to look back," he smiles. "You'll realize that I'm always there."
"That's sad," Hanbin comments, blinking at the other man.
Hao just pushes his bottom lip out. "Bittersweet, I think," he rebuts. "Not entirely sad, there is a little bit of hope too."
"Chinese sounds beautiful," he tells him, glad that Hao has made him a participant by translating some of the lyrics with him.
His favorite ones.
"It is," Hao nods.
The song ends after a more upbeat bridge, and the notes die just like they had been brought to life moments before.
Hanbin chooses another song to play afterwards, and the silence disappears again.
"Is music always playing here?" Hao questions, looking at the console between them.
Hanbin gulps. "Pretty much, yes."
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why?" Hao repeats.
Fear creeps in slowly. He's scared to share this much of himself already, but how is it fair when Hao makes it so easy for him to?
"I don't like thinking very much," he stares at the street in front of them. "And to drown all thoughts out, I need music."
"Even after practicing for hours?"
Hanbin winces. "Practice only lasts a few hours, but then I have to go back home and deal with—" he takes a deep breath. "Life outside that room."
Hao has a serious look tugging at his features. "What else do you do?"
He shrugs. "Music, movies, games, anything really." Hanbin feels ashamed of himself, but the fact that Hao seems to not be judging him in the slightest fuels his courage. "Nights are incredibly hard. Sometimes I play games with my friends until the sun rises, and the day offers many distractions, so…"
"And you don't sleep?"
"By the time I arrive here and work for hours and go home again, I have strained myself enough to drop dead on the bed." He tries to alleviate the harsh conversation by letting out a small giggle.
Hao's forehead is pinched between his two eyebrows. "That doesn't sound very healthy."
Hanbin does laugh at that. "No, it really isn't," he shakes his head. "But it works."
The man with pink hair stares, slowly blinking at him. "You are a very interesting person, Sung Hanbin."
He would beg to differ, particularly because of the person he is locking eyes with right now. A person so bright and admirable that it becomes very simple for Hanbin to wish to know more, touch more, and live.
"I loved Pride and Prejudice, by the way." He decides to change the topic, and Hao lights up.
"You already read it?" The other can't hide the shock in his voice.
"Well, instead of playing games, I decided to read it so," he stretches his upper body to grab the book that is lying lifeless on the backseats. "Here you go."
"Thoughts?"
"Did you call it unattainable because of the love story?" he asks, grasping at the very fresh words he had spent hours reading.
"Yes," Hao thinks. "Well, it's more about how," he stops to think again. "How much they want the other before they confess their love to each other, you know? Like the moments that lead to that, all the desire and the wish to be together, how do you say that?"
"The yearning?"
"The yearning, yes." Hao points at him with a smile. "The need you have for someone that feels so out of reach," he shakes his head. "And the touches, and how desperately you imagine yourself with them."
Hanbin feels dizzy from all the words flowing past Hao's lips. He's getting to know more. About the kind of love Hao wants present in his life, the kind of ideology of love that Hanbin himself grapples with at night when so full of desperation.
"You're pretty romantic, aren't you?" he probes.
"We're all romantics," Hao clicks his tongue. "The people who aren't simply haven't met the reason for them to be."
"I disagree," Hanbin rebuts. "Some people just aren't."
"But you are."
It doesn't even sound like a presumption he's making—Hao seems confident in believing he's right.
He raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "Because I liked Pride and Prejudice?"
"Because you knew the word I was looking for when I tried to explain it."
"Yearning," Hanbin whispers, smiling.
"Yearning." Hao says the word in small staccatos that widen his smile.
"I have another book for you," Hao leans forward to grab his bag. "This is easier to read than Pride and Prejudice, so it might take you less, but please, sleep."
Hanbin giggles at the undertone of worry. "I will."
"It's called The Midnight Library," he lets out a victorious noise when he finds the book and holds it in his direction. "It's pretty new, but I really liked it a lot."
"At this point I will read whatever you recommend."
Hao seems to enjoy that a lot.
The sun is long gone when Hanbin sits on the floor of the practice room.
It must be midnight already given the lack of turned-on windows he sees in the buildings outside the big windows.
His breath is heavy and fast. Both legs hurt when he stretches them in front of him, and he yelps when Gyuvin throws his whole, tall body against his.
"You have another date with Hao?" His friend giggles, pushing on his back and making him groan in pain.
Hanbin almost chokes while trying to get rid of the younger one. "What are you talking about?"
Hanbin sees Gyuvin make one of his funny expressions that contorts all his features in the mirror. "Stop acting clueless."
"What?"
"You are dating, hyung."
Hanbin twists the cap of the water bottle Gyuvin hands him. "No, we are most definitely not."
His heartbeat suddenly spikes at the assumption, pumping at a new speed that sadly sounds like hope.
Gyuvin rolls his eyes. "You see each other every single night and spend hours together in a confined space," Hanbin doesn't like his tone very much. The younger one is talking to him like he's a child who is in need of a scolding. "Alone and talking."
He takes multiple sips of water and shrugs his shoulders. "Yes, and?"
"You can't be serious." It's the only thing Gyuvin replies with.
"We are not dating."
"These little encounters of yours are dates," Gyuvin raises an eyebrow. "You're like on date number six or something, whether you like it or not."
Hanbin squeezes the bottle of water in his right hand and gulps.
"I mean, I know you like it, but—" Gyuvin is interrupted by an elbow that crashes his rib cage, and the next few minutes are full of loud, dragged-out cries of pain that make Hanbin half-smile and roll his eyes in annoyance.
"I'm going to go now," he says after a while, pushing away the younger man playfully and giving Gyuvin one last look.
He doesn't see Hao at the elevator, sadly enough, so he thinks of maybe running back inside and waiting for him, but he changes his mind at the last minute.
Hanbin meets Hao outside, with the older man leaning on the side of his car, waiting for him.
"Move your ass, Sung Hanbin," Hao is calling, and his feet move quicker. "It's freezing tonight."
"Should I just leave you my keys next time?" He jokes around, opening the car for both of them, and Hao groans when he enters.
"You should not give me that much power," Hao giggles while taking off his jacket and letting it pool around his waist.
The heat gets turned on immediately; Hanbin wants Hao to be as comfortable as possible. "I finished the book."
Hao freezes. "No way."
Hanbin nods instead. "I did."
"How? It's been like two days." Hao exclaims, staring at him with wide eyes that glimmer. "I told you to sleep."
"I did sleep for a few hours." The confession has Hao slapping his arm, and he fakes being in pain. "But I kept thinking about it, so I read it after every lecture and on my way here and while taking a break."
"You're crazy," Hao smiles. "Very diligent, though."
"I just—" Hanbin shrugs. "Need to know what happens."
"Did you like it?"
Hanbin hums, pondering on how to regulate his thoughts. "I think the overall message is what got to me."
Hao blinks and lets him speak.
"No matter how many what-ifs and regrets fill your brain, the reality is that this life is the one we're living, and that past is just the past."
"The past is just the past indeed." The corners of Hao's mouth are curled curiously. "Finding life worth it is difficult. Just like finding meaning and purpose is."
"It is, but we are privileged enough to have dreams."
Hao parts his lips, and the smile falters a little. Hanbin would like to know the reason behind it; just take a minute to enter Hao's beautiful mind and extrapolate all its thoughts and affections and keep them close to him.
"Sometimes I wish I didn't have one," Hao whispers, and Hanbin only gets more morbid about knowing what lies behind his words.
"What do you mean?"
Hao shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know, it gets really hard at times," he sighs. "To stay on top of everything, give your all to every aspect of your life."
"Well, it's okay to not be at your best every now and then."
Hao purses his lips and breathes out a small "Yeah."
"Yeah, it's okay every now and then." He repeats, it feels like more to himself than to Hanbin.
He is leaning against the wall by Hao's room, waiting patiently for the other to come outside and scrolling through some texts in the meantime.
The usual buzzing excitement he has felt lately is back, tugging at his stomach; the want to see and talk to Hao again is overpowering all his other senses, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other.
The door on his right finally opens, and Hao peeks through the frame with bouncy pink hair, gaining his attention.
He can't resist the urge to scare the older man, so he screams a little "Boo" that is reciprocated by a string of curses that echo in the empty hallway.
Hao touches his chest with one hand and slaps Hanbin on the shoulder with the other. "Are you fucking crazy? Oh, my God."
Hanbin laughs out loud and even holds his belly with both arms. "You're so easy to scare."
"Sung Hanbin, I will kill you one day," Hao threatens him, snapping his head to the other side as he starts walking.
"I'm sorry," Hanbin giggles still, almost cooing at the adorable pout that he notices before Hao had turned away. "You really give amazing reactions, though. I might do it again very soon."
"And I will have to talk to your ghost," The other talks through the sulking. He presses the button to call the elevator and gives him a dry look. "Watch your back from now on."
The elevator doors open, and Hanbin smiles. "You are really not that scary."
Hao seems to take the accusation at heart because he just waits for the doors to close before he corners Hanbin on the mirrored wall. His smile drops incredibly fast, and his mouth goes dry when he smells Hao so close to him.
The other cocks his head to the right and holds Hanbin's stare with a tension that is completely new and takes him off guard.
"You have no idea how dangerous I can be," Hao whispers, placing a hand on Hanbin's chest and making him gulp. "Sung Hanbin," he articulates his name in a way that sends shivers along his spine, and it tickles his nape oddly.
The elevator doors open, and Hao strides outside with his long, elegant legs. He can't do anything but follow him and stare at his back.
The cold air hits them, and Hanbin assumes they'll both get inside his car, but Hao stops at the sidewalk, and they look at each other when Hanbin holds the handle of the car door.
"I can't be an active member of the club tonight," Hao lets him know, and he parts his lips.
"Oh," he tries to hide his disappointment. "That's okay, don't worry."
"But—" Hao bursts into a little cheerful yelp, "I brought you a book anyway."
He wants to know why Hao can't be with him tonight. The need to know is eating him alive, but he smiles nonetheless and walks to Hao to take the book he's taken out of his bag.
"It's one of my favorites of all time," Hao shares. "Don't cry too much."
"That's not disheartening at all," he mumbles, holding a book and gulping at the feather-like touch when their fingers brush on the cover.
He shouldn't dig deeper. Hanbin should really only wish him a good night and leave, but his brain is going so fast, and he needs to make it stop somehow. "Why?"
Hao frowns deeply. "What?"
"Why can't you stay tonight?"
Hao looks away, his eyes moving to the street ahead of him before going back to Hanbin. "I have a date."
Ah.
Hanbin swallows heavily. "That sounds nice."
"I don't know, we'll see." Hao shrugs, zipping up his coat. "He seems okay."
"Have fun, Hao."
"Thank you," the other whispers with a small smile, walking away.
No music helps him that evening. He turns off the radio halfway through his apartment, and his chest burns.
You stupid, stupid man. Of course beautiful, interesting, funny Hao has a date. It's only logical for him to be on one. Hell, Hao should probably go out on dates every single night.
He can't sleep, and his thoughts are louder than ever when he lies in bed. Hao is with someone else that isn't him while he agonizes in his room, using any kind of entertainment that can pull him out of the deep pit of worries that he's buried himself in.
"Hello, handsome." Hao tries to greet him, but he's barking the moment the older man takes a seat.
"Do not hello handsome me," Hanbin grits through his teeth. "How dare you recommend such a soul-crushing book?"
Hao has the audacity to giggle at his suffering while Hanbin looks at him with wide eyes.
"I deserve it; I deserve it."
"Of course you do," he yells. "I cried so much I couldn't even tell snot and tears apart at some point."
Hao booms in a laugh that momentarily makes Hanbin even forget what he's complaining about.
"Okay, but how beautiful was it?"
Hanbin pouts and rolls his eyes. "It was amazing," he whispers, not sure he wants to yield yet.
"What did you say?" Hao mocks him, and he's already taking off his shoes, and there is nothing Hanbin can do to stop him, really.
He has tried many times before. He even threatened the elder to cut his feet off, but Hao had just sent him a kiss and shushed him with a dismissive hand.
"It was amazing," he says again, a tad louder. "I actually underlined a passage that really—" he pauses, not sure words are enough to explain how he felt the first time he read that part in particular while on the couch of his living room, wet pages and wet eyes. "It really stuck with me."
Hao raises an eyebrow, and a smile appears. "Please, I would love to hear it."
He scrolls through the pages to search for one specifically; he even memorized the number.
"I am thinking of beauty again, how some things are hunted because we have deemed them beautiful." He hears Hao acknowledge the words, as if he was hopeful until the very end to hear Hanbin read these ones in particular.
"If, relative to the history of our planet, an individual life is so short, a blink of an eye, as they say, then to be gorgeous, even from the day you’re born to the day you die, is to be gorgeous only briefly."
With his eyes separating from the page, he turns to Hao and finds him with eyes glistening.
The man with pink hair bobs his head up and down. "Did you see I had it underlined too?"
Hanbin hums. "Yes, with the blue pen, right?"
"Yes," he rebuts. "The first time I read it, I was so touched by it I couldn't even get up from my bed to look for a pencil. A blue pen was the closest thing, so I just used that instead."
Hanbin smiles at the small anecdote as he imagines Hao running around searching for something to write with. "The whole book is simply impossible to describe in words."
"It really makes you think," Hao murmurs. "Little Dog's trauma and his relationships. How important it is for humans to feel, let themselves feel, and connect with others."
Hanbin's smile has no intention of leaving his lips. "You speak so nicely, Hao."
In all fairness it is pretty random for him to tell him that, but Hanbin couldn't help it.
"I try," Hao lowers his head.
He clears his throat, not wanting to make Hao even more uncomfortable. "But you're right about the book," Hanbin says. "Finding meaning in the fleeting moments is something I will keep in my heart for a long time."
"The whole book, really," he adds as he strokes the cover of the book. "It makes me feel hopeful about myself."
"About yourself?"
Hanbin hums. 'Like I can grow from the words and find the real version of myself. One that doesn't have to please the rest of the world. And there are so many different themes that create such an interesting mix."
"Class labor, trauma, race, war," Hao licks his lips, overwhelmed by his own list. "It's so packed with so many meaningful thoughts and stories, you have no chance but to let it all in and let him narrate to you."
You're so beautiful when you talk, Hanbin would like to say.
"And," his lips fill with air. "How he depicts the power of language in this story is—" he chokes, touched just by thinking about it. "It's the bridge between all people, and yet his own mother couldn't understand his words, but there is so much more that matters when connecting with someone."
"Identity, culture, love."
"Yes," Hao whispers. "I resonate a lot with his prayers to be simply seen and understood."
You really have no idea how beautiful you are, Hao. He wants to hold the other's hand and kiss them for hours, squeeze them in his own, and let his lips bring him comfort.
But Hanbin sighs and nods. "It was a beautiful read, thank you."
Hao reciprocates the smile. He suddenly gets a glimpse of a distant memory that has been staggering him for way too long.
Should you? No, you shouldn't. Mind your business, Hanbin. Seriously, mind your business.
"How did the date go, by the way?"
You fucking idiot.
"The date?" Hao repeats rather shocked. "Oh, the date."
Hanbin stays quiet, his chest moving faster as he waits for an answer.
"It was a disaster," Hao rolls his eyes, and Hanbin draws breath again.
"What? Really?"
Now, Hanbin tries intensely hard to sound disappointed. Whether or not a shy smile gets past his demeanor is not something he can control.
"I don't know, he was very talkative but in a suffocating type of way, you know?"
"Oh, I know." Hanbin nods with fervor. "Yes, it's awful."
Hao shrugs. "He was kind of pretty, but yeah—nothing much apart from that."
Pretty.
He says the word in his head so many times it sounds weird.
Pretty? Pretty as Hao?
He steals a quick look at the other man.
No, it's impossible.
But normal pretty, perhaps? Hanbin feels a little nauseous, and it's terribly awful for him to be this jealous when he's simply Hao's friend.
Hypocrite.
"If he's that pretty, maybe he deserves another chance?"
Liar.
Hao shakes his head and laughs. "He's not that pretty."
Are you happy now?
He nods understandingly, drawing Hao's hair with his eyes, then his perfect nose and his high cheekbones that perk when he smiles.
You're truly awful for being this happy.