Work Text:
Changbin parks his car in his driveway after the adrenaline raising ride, saving himself from several crashes while he was just sobering up from the alcohol. He tosses his head back to try and take a breather and recoup himself; which he immediately regrets because of the throbbing headache bouncing around his skull. He can’t even believe that this body is his—that he is the one doing all of this to himself. This is his life and he can’t seem to take charge, turning to drugs, alcohol and sex to find an escape. Each time he finds himself in the blinding and solaceness of his refuge in Ketamine and Cocaine and the occasional shot of “the strongest thing you got.” As he sits in his car in silent reminisce, with only the hum of the engine and heater, does he really feel reality daunting on him. The longer he sits and lets time pass, the longer reality forces its way through the walls of his makeshift refuge, and at that point he knows all too well how to repair those walls. He reaches to turn the car radio on and shifts through the center console of his car for that familiar clear baggy holding his escape. There is no noviceness to his next actions. He lightly taps the baggie onto the back of his dormant hand and quickly snorts it. He sits back waiting for his refuge to be built back up.
Tonight felt like the worst of all his bad nights. Like he is in a competition with himself to see if it can get worse and worse, and at the moment his self-destructive side is winning. When he thought he couldn’t go lower—he has. It seems as if he can’t stop himself- that he likes the pain in his muscles as he forces himself to continue. He always had an issue with his body seeming to move before he could even get a chance to think. His mouth moving a mile a minute before being able to think twice. He’s learned how to shut up to prevent any more mishaps. He was always good at that. Staying silent instead and listening rather than messing something up by even daring to open his mouth for a breath. Drugs and alcohol seem to lessen the effect of his words. When he talks inebriated it tends not to feel as damaging, and self-deprecating. Although, there is one set back he has when he is on his way back down from whatever high he has reached—That lingering thought in the back of his mind that he will never reach that same high he reached when he was younger.
That’s when it finally hits him. The high hits him, and he accepts with open, desperate arms. He lets his mind clear for that brief window. For those few minutes he sits there he can somewhat enjoy living. Taking all these drugs and chasing a thrill that he most likely can never feel again. No intoxicants seem to compare to the out of body high he had when making out with his best friend. It makes him feel guilty at times—knowing that it is partially his fault they got broken apart. Nothing will compare to the blissed out state he was letting his friend fuck him behind his parents’ back. No amount of drugs or alcoholic escape could tear that memory from his brain. He’s afraid even if he suffered from a concussion, he’d still remember. That’s his biggest issue. Remembering. Sometimes he’d wish that life was just a one day thing. Something that entailed whatever stupid thing you did the day before held no weight. Where you can destroy yourself the day before and come out the next day unscathed and with no recollection of the prior events.
He decides to leave his car, shoving the baggie in his pocket of his jacket. Leaves crunches beneath his feet as he exits his car but the sound seems to bounce off his ears, leaving the rest of the world to hear it; except him. Normally he would be overwhelmed by all these noises, thoughts, and emotions. He slams his car door locking it and making his way to his house. He fumbles around with his keys supporting himself up by resting his forearm on the front door. He recognizes that he might’ve gone a bit overboard tonight. Various drugs and alcohol coursing through his system from the start of this day. He can barely remember what transpired but he could care less. He rather not know what stupid thing he did “the day before”.
He finally opens the door and is shocked still when he sees the last thing he wanted to see today—if not at all. He squints making sure he’s seeing things right. He can’t tell if it’s the vast amount of intoxicants in his system or if he’s really there standing in front of him.
“Changbin…” The man says cautiously not knowing what to think. Changbin looks horrible and he’s stunned to see him like this. This is not the Changbin he knew. Who was this?
“Fuck Chan,” Changbin finally lets his body relax seeing his house wasn’t broken into or anything of the sort. It’s just Chan. “Jesus Christ go home.” He tosses his keys on a table beside him.
“I- I…just wanted to stop by and check on you. You were taking a very long time so I just lounged here for the day.” Chan is able to snap out of his shock and check Changbin out. “It seems you spent most of your day…out.”
They both know what Chan meant. Changbin was not “out” running errands or doing anything meaningful with his time. He was too busy getting drugged up and partying his little pathetic life away trying to reach some form of just living.
“Go home Bangchan,” Changbin starts taking off his boots before stopping to look up at Chan to get his point across. “I mean it.”
Chan stands in silence taking it all in. His friend looks horrible, and he never knew this was brewing inside him. “You’re not okay Changbin.”
“Do I look okay?”
“I didn’t - I didn’t know, you- you always look so…-” Chan trails off. He is used to seeing Changbin with nothing but smiles and a bright face. He didn’t know he was hurting this bad. He always thought Changbin was the happiest of all of their friends. It appears he was wrong. In fact Changbin might be the most broken of them all.
Changbin throws his shoes aside and scoffs, “What? Giddy with life? I fucking wish.” Changbin slurs out into the air angrily.
Changbin pulls the black denim jacket off his shoulders, revealing a lot more about how he spent his night out. A big red hand mark is now visible around his neck along with other deeper marks in his skin. The tight black short sleeve beneath his jacket reveals bruised marks around his wrists. Chan immediately feels himself broil with anger becoming protective over his friend.
Chan walks closer to Changbin as he hooks his jacket up on the rack, “Who did that to you? Who hurt you like this?”
“It’s none of your business.” Changbin pushes past Chan into his house, heading for the kitchen. For some reason he feels his breath hitch and his throat close with the walls of it covered in fiery flames.
Chan follows closely behind him, “Changbin tell me,” He demands expecting no less than an answer or an explanation to come from his mouth.
Changbin turns around abruptly, forcing Chan to freeze in his tracks from bumping into him. “Get this through your thick fucking skull now. I don’t need to tell you shit. But because you want to know so goddamn bad, fine I’ll tell you. I slept with some dude tonight. No, I don't remember his name. And yes I asked for this.”
Chan is speechless, he doesn’t know what to say. How could he say anything to that? He can’t tell an adult what to do and what not to do with themselves. Who is he to tell Changbin to not let himself get manhandled in bed like his body is just something for some stranger to use? Who is he to tell him that? Who is he to force this information out of him at all? But he will still try.
“You can’t let these people do these things to you.” They both finally stop in the kitchen and Chan grabs hold of Changbin’s wrists holding them tenderly. “You also need to stop with the drugs and alcohol. I mean look at you. Your eyes are bloodshot and you can barely stand up.”
“I can assure you the standing issue is not just the drugs and alcohol,” Changbin intended for that to hurt Chan; searching for every little thing that gets under his skin. He is tired of him getting under his own—not even, he is tired of his lack of control over his skin- his own body.
Changbin gets out of his grasp and gets a water bottle from the fridge. This whole situation mixed with his activities today is draining himself worse than he’s ever been drained before. Today might actually be the day where he experiences his drought.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave a long time ago?” Changbin sets the bottle down on the counter.
“Only if you tell me when this all started.”
Changbin for a brief moment diverts his attention away from Chan. Does he really not know? He feels his eyes heat up and his closing throat now roaring with irritation. His eyes hurt like hell and his body hurts like hell. But nothing hurts more than seeing the man in front of him.
“When you entered my life. When you entered and fucking left it Chan!” Changbin can’t seem to hold back the tears from escaping his eyes, painfully one after the other, squeezing the last emotions out of him. Wringing him dry.
Chan watches Changbin in silence. He knew the answer to his own question without Changbin having to answer it. How could he not? He knew all too well how Changbin ended up as ruined as he is now. It was his own fault he just never really accepted that it really affected Changbin much because he always acted strong for the rest of them.
“Changbin- I-…I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I didn’t leave you because I wanted to. Your parents-”
“Don’t you think I know Chan? I lived with them for fucks sake. Of course I knew, but yet you couldn’t be man enough to stay…fucking coward.” At this point Changbin is sobbing his tears blocking his already poor vision, his anger spitting out in Chan’s direction.
“Fuck Changbin, I loved you. I still do. I just thought you already moved on. You are always so happy you made it seem like you were living your best life.” Chan reaches for Changbin’s wrist again but Changbin pulls away before he could get the chance.
Changbin feels like throwing up, the nausea hitting him like a wave. He can’t tell if it’s everything he put in his body or this pitiful conversation but he needs it to stop before he collapses. Before he could do any of that he feels Chan’s hand snaking through his hair and the other pulling him closer by the waist.
“I mean it. I still love you Changbin so much. It hurts to see you like this, it really does. I had no idea. I am sorry that it was me that made you feel this shitty.” Chan’s eyes are full of truth and genuine admiration.
Changbin hasn’t seen those eyes of his look like that in so long, and for that period of time he’d wish for the day he’d see them again. When he saw Chan look at his new partner like that he thought it was all over—that his life was completely over. Everything around him came crashing down, and he did along with it. The sleepless nights, the drugs, the alcohol, the sex, the look for something stronger than the next to help drown himself from the whirlpool around him. None of it ever helped deep down.
Chan pulls them together kissing Changbin, their lips moving against each other like they never left from that fateful night back then. Both of them knew immediately what to do. Changbin grabs at the back of Chan’s neck desperate to get closer, deeper with him. He cranes his neck opening his mouth for Chan wanting him to slide his tongue in like they did back then. Although the kiss is more experienced and coordinated then their last years ago the same feeling is still there. The same euphoric rush that made both of them feel light headed and tingly.
Back then Changbin had always been the star child. Listening to his parents, creating the best image for their business, but when it finally came to his own desires they didn’t even let him have one. His wants never came to fruition like his parents promised they would. Someday, they always said and then went back to their endless and meaningless phone calls. Dare he say it’s his own parents fault when they caught him and Chan making out in his room one day. If only they allowed him to have at least some sense of childhood and attention he wouldn’t have seeked it through his friend. Maybe he wouldn’t have fallen so helplessly in love with him.
His parents were quick to throw Chan out of their house and tell Changbin that he was never to be seen with any boy, especially Chan, ever again. It would only hurt the company’s image, Changbin honey, you know that, his mom would say sweetly and mother-like. He’d wince every time he heard that sweet tone of hers. At least his dad didn’t pretend to care, he was always blunt and straightforward. When he saw him with Chan the first thing he said was how he better break out of that faze of his soon. That he couldn’t be seen around a son who let himself get fucked by other guys. No not in this industry. His dad was never the same. After everything he became more cold and acted as if anything he did for his son was just his legal obligation. He acted as if Changbin was a pesky chore that he had to get out of the way. He always left some snarky remark, reminding Changbin of his homosexuality and how much he was disappointed to have an embarrassing son like that; how he was easier to handle when was younger.
After everything Chan acted as if nothing had happened. He moved on, starting a relationship with someone new. Changbin had to stay close with Chan only because all their friends knew each other. As the years went on it just became more and more unbearable seeing him with different people. But he never let that jealousy show. He had already perfected how to cut his losses and ignore what he truly wanted. He couldn’t have Chan then and he can’t have him now even now that he’s left his parents a long time ago. Except he hated Chan for acting like everything was fine. He hated him for never coming back, apologizing or even acknowledging what happened in their past. All they were now was just ‘best friends’. Anyways, that's how Chan introduced their relationship. At the time Changbin didn’t mind because his parents wanted him to uphold their holy image. But, as time went on he couldn’t help but despise greetings, because he knew when going somewhere new and meeting new people he’d have to hear that rehearsed introduction.
Chan groans into Changbin’s mouth finally recognizing how bad he had been waiting for this moment. How long he had been waiting to hold Changbin close, not some guy or girl he happened to meet at the park or online. He wanted a relationship with Changbin not anyone else, and now he finally dug those old feelings back up. He assumed Changbin had moved on from their fling in their childhood. Just something two curious boys in their teens going through puberty would do. But Changbin wasn’t just a curiosity to him. He was truly—and still is—the love of his life. Chan can feel himself near tears and choked up to the point where he has to look away from Changbin.
“I’m sorry Changbin. Shit. I didn’t mean for everything to turn out like this. I guess it just all spiraled for the worse.” Chan turns to gaze into Changbin’s eyes. Chan is unable to stop the tears from rolling down his cheek, “I shouldn’t have strung you along for as long as I have and I am sorry for that.”
“No, I am sorry for letting my parents have control over my life for as long as they have. And, I am sorry for not communicating my feelings to you.” Changbin wipes Chan’s tears away. “I want you to stay, please don’t go. Not this time.”
Chan smiles, “You know we had our first kiss in your parents kitchen. We were getting popcorn before starting a movie. You all of a sudden turned to me and then you kissed me.”
“Well that kiss was a lot messier and uncoordinated.” Changbin laughs wholeheartedly for the first time in a very long time.
Chan pushing Changbin gradually gets him against the counter behind them. He puts his thigh between Changbin’s legs, applying a light pressure. “Your confidence was enough to pass. I bet it still is, the only difference is you have a lot more experience now.”
Changbin smiles, putting his hand up Chan’s shirt, feeling the ridges of Chan’s abs beneath his palm, “And these are still here.” He uses his eyes to gaze up at Chan keeping his head trained down. “What about your…boyfriend?”
“We broke up some time ago. I guess the drugs and alcohol affected your perception of time and situational awareness.”
Changbin feels guilty hearing those words. He almost can’t believe he spent the prime years of his life making memories he doesn’t even remember. Memories not even worth remembering.
“I still have some…if you feel like you might need a bump before getting involved with me again.” Changbin tries to humor the situation. Yet he is not entirely joking he wouldn’t mind—in fact, encouraging that Chan has something in his system before going any father.
“Where is it at?” Chan sticks his hands in the front of Changbin’s pants pockets. Changbin immediately puts his hands up so Chan can do his pat down. When Chan finds nothing in Changbin’s front pockets he reaches into Changbin’s back pockets.
Changbin smiles at the little space separating the two of them. “It’s not on me.”
“Well where is it?”
Changbin leads Chan back to the front of the house where he hung his jacket up. He searches the pockets of his jacket not recalling which pocket he half hazardously shoved his lifeline into. He finally pulls it out waving the little baggie for Chan to see.
“Have you ever taken Ket before?”
Chan shakes his head, “I’ve seen people do it though, I got it.”
Chan carefully takes the baggie from Changbin’s hand. He is surprised at the firm grip he had on it when he first tried grabbing it. But, it quickly loosens and now Chan is looking down at the baggie in his hand. Chan immediately makes his way back to the kitchen before Changbin can comprehend what he’s doing. He empties the entire thing in the sink and turns the faucet on. All Changbin can do is stand and watch in shock.
“I’m sorry Bin but if our relationship ends up going any farther, I want it to be with the real you not the doped up version. Plus, it’s not good for your body or mind to be so dependent on these things to feel good.” Chan throws the small baggie out in the trash.
Changbin turns away suppressing the anger and anxiety from exploding when seeing his lifeline washing down the drain. He slightly calms down when feeling the pressure of a hand make its way on his waist and another on the side of his face. Chan turns Changbin’s face towards him.
“I love you so much—and because I love you so much I want the best for you, and all that starts with making sure you aren’t destroying yourself with drugs.” Chan pauses for a second looking into Changbin’s disheartened eyes. “But, I am sorry that I did that and made you feel a certain way.”
When Changbin feels himself slowly sober up from all the drugs and highs. He immediately acts on muscle memory, grabbing Chan’s face and desperately kissing him again. The sudden movement startles Chan and makes it easier for Changbin to push his back, forcing him against the fridge with a grunt and sticking his leg between his. Changbin slithers his hand under his shirt and starts to kiss and suck at his neck, distracting himself by hyperfocusing on trying to find the spot that gets the biggest rise out of Chan. Chan grabs his waist pulling Changbin’s waist closer to his. The rush gets to Changbin’s head and feels that rush he had during their rendezvous back when they were younger. He lets his younger self take over running his hand and tongue over the areas he recalls being on the more sensitive side. His hands feel right on Chan. He tastes almost exactly what he did back then. This is the one time he is kissing someone again and it does not taste or reek of alcohol and drugs. He can’t help but feel bad that Chan has to taste his mistakes and misery on his tongue and body.
Chan pulls Changbin off of him by his hair, “I have been waiting for this moment for forever, Bin. And, as much as I don't want this to end…I refuse to do anything with you today. You look exhausted and I don’t want to drain you any more.”
Changbin’s head falls onto Chan’s chest and he hugs Chan tightly around his waist with a huff. He can’t believe he almost tried to use his friend as a means for a distraction. It had been so second nature for him to jump to sex as a coping mechanism when he wasn’t able to turn to drugs or alcohol. Plus, the exhaustion really is kicking in now that Chan had pointed it out. He’s been running on three hours of sleep trying to escape seeing Chan in his nightmares. He also has been trying to escape all the other nightmares about everything else in his miserable life.
“C’mon let’s get you in the shower, changed, and put to bed. You definitely need it.”
Changbin doesn’t move quite yet, his thigh still right where it was before and his head now free of Chan’s grip, “I am sorry. I am sorry that I am not as strong as you thought I was. As I’m supposed to be. This is so embarrassing, I never wanted you to see this.” He shakes his head into Chan’s chest.
“I know, Bin,” Chan pats his head, “I know. But, I’m glad I did. What kind of friend…or whatever I am to you now- would I be if I can’t be there for you when you’re like this.” He ruffles Changbin’s hair.
Changbin lifts his head off Chan’s chest and looks at him with round eyes, “What do you want me to be to you?”
“How about I take up the title as your ‘experimental secret teen boyfriend’, once more. Or perhaps a not so secret matured boyfriend.” Chan chuckles, putting his arms around Changbin’s neck.
A smile slowly creeps on Changbin’s face, “I want nothing more than that.”
Chan tilts his head and goes in for another kiss. Changbin reaches up into his addictive lips. His lips feel better than any other combination of drugs and alcohol he’ll ever ingest. The only difference between the two is that he’ll never be able to forget this. The golden lines of Chan’s lips will forever be etched in his brain. His hands move up to Chan’s face holding the side of his face. Chan moves his hands tracing Changbin’s shoulders and stopping there to grip them. He gently pulls Changbin off of him with a smile.
“I guess it’s official,” Chan grabs Changbin’s hands and admirably looks into his bloodshot eyes. “Okay let’s get you to the bathroom. I mean it this time.” He pulls Changbin along with him, leading him to Changbin’s bedroom to help him with his shower.
Changbin stumbles after Chan quickly snatching the water bottle he left on the counter. He is starting to feel nauseous and lightheaded. This has been too much excitement and rekindling of old relationships for the day. Too many ups and downs and emotions for today. He is normally used to the same three emotions of guilt, hate, and exhaustion. But now. Now that he had finally let go of the tumorous burden he had been letting grow far too close to his heart he feels lighter. Metaphorically—of course—because literally he feels like he gained one hundred pounds in just one day. Maybe the drugs actually have been doing more damage than good. He humours himself stumbling in the bathroom, allowing Chan to take the bottle out his hand and lift his shirt over his head. When Chan gets the shirt fully off his body he can see the wince on his face no matter how much he knows Chan prepared himself to see such a scene. Chan sets the shirt down on the sink counter and reaches out to Changbin’s abdomen lightly grazing over a particularly painful looking bruise. Chan looks up at Changbin, his eyes look like they are tearing up, but it doesn’t last long before he blinks them away and turns around.
“Oughta get your pants off. I’ll get you a change of clothes. And uh…” Chan clears his throat, his hand on the bathroom door handle, “…put some Aloe Vera on those.”
Chan walks out the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Changbin looks in the mirror. He hadn’t really paid much thought every time he had passed a mirror and looked at the bruises covering his body. They always made him feel good in the moment. Perhaps he felt like he needed the pain and punishment. He needed to feel the disgust in his own body. He touches the same bruise that Chan had so tenderly given his alleviating touch. Although his touch is not nearly as comforting, he had accidentally pushed down too hard getting a hiss out of him. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hits him like a punch to the gut. Now, he is hunched over his sink and emptying his bowels into it. He rests his forearms on the sink gasping and reaching to turn the faucet on. His head wasn’t hurting before it definitely is now. His throat burns and the taste of stomach acid and regurgitated alcohol on his tongue doesn’t put him at ease.
“Fuck,” He mutters as starts to properly rinse the sink clear of any vomit with his hand. The least he could’ve done for himself was make it to the toilet or even the tub. Yet, he can’t even go out of his way to do that for himself. He is always making things harder than it needs to be. He cracks open his water bottle and takes a swig from it.
When done he rids himself of the rest of his clothes, throwing his belt on the floor and steps out of his pants. He turns on the shower as he discards both socks. He keeps the water cold both to sober him up and because he fears he’ll faint in the shower if it’s steaming. For the first few minutes the cold makes his whole tense up, but it doesn’t last long before he gets used to it. Plus, he’s had his fair share of cold showers. Changbin sticks his whole head under the water, weaving his fingers through his hair brushing it back. He grabs soap, his cloth and quickly lathers it up before taking it to his body. He scrubs his whole body finding comfort in the shower. He always did. He always felt that what disgusting thing did earlier would be washed down the drain. Although, it most definitely is not true, it put him at ease to live the fantasy. He massages some soap in his hair to get rid of the stench of alcohol, sweat and sex from his body. He then sticks his head under the shower head then lifts his face to the water. He runs his hands through his hair washing the soap out. He feels slightly better now that he is clean and devoid of any disgusting action he did earlier.
When done with his cleansing he turns the shower off and steps out the shower grabbing his towel and starting to dry off. He follows Chan’s recommendation by applying Aloe Vera to all the parts of him with bad bruising. That’s when he realises Chan never came back with his change of clothes. He finishes drying off and wraps the towel around his waist. He leaves the bathroom, shuffling his way in his bathroom and to his closet to search for something he is in the mood to wear—at least until Chan is gone. He throws on a grey sweatpants and a black hoodie. He feels comfortable wearing baggy clothes. It’s a stark contrast from spending his day sexualizing himself and destroying his body. Although, the outfit is not entirely out of seeking comfortable lounge wear. It is more out of embarrassment. He is hiding himself from Chan, his neck, his arms, his legs, even the shape of his body. Chan becoming his unofficial boyfriend in the span of seconds is slightly overwhelming to think about. He doesn’t think he can quite spill his guts or display all his imperfections to him just yet. Shame is what it is. Half the time he is too ashamed to even look at himself in a mirror or a passing window let alone allowing other people to peel back the layers and see him for who he really is.
He puts on a pair of slides and heads to his bedroom door to search for Chan. Soon as he opens the door he is hit with the admitted delicious smell of something cooking. He follows the smell to his kitchen where he is met with Chan’s back. As he gets closer he sees Chan’s arm moving as if he’s stirring something. Changbin decides to just sit down at the island watching Chan do his thing. Normally he would go on his phone to keep his mind occupied from going off into the deep end of self-hate and dark thoughts—But, something about watching Chan seems to put him at ease. Chan just exudes this comforting and loveable energy that can even melt the frozen fortress that he has built up for himself. He watches Chan do his thing for some time longer, watching as he uses a kitchen spoon to pour what he has now deducted as soup into two bowls.
Chan finally turns around to be met with Changbin, whose hair is still damp and is now wearing a new outfit, “Oh my gosh, I forgot to get your clothes. I’m so sorry. You know how I get when my head is running a mile a minute. All I could think about is how you would want to eat after a long day and how-”
Changbin puts a sole pointer finger to his own lips and—as gently as he can—shushes Chan. “It’s okay, Chan. I only needed to take like five more steps to reach my closet. You’re overthinking is fueling my own and I really can’t afford my headache turning into a migraine.” Chan pushes one of the bowls towards Changbin and Changbin unconsciously smiles at how kind Chan is.
Chan returns his smile with a warm smile leaning his elbows on the opposite side of the table. He starts to eat his own bowl of soup, “Well it’s good I made Kongnamul-gukbap for the both of us.”
“It tastes amazing by the way. I really don’t deserve you,” Changbin stirs the contents of the bowl around before taking another sip from his spoon. “Or your cooking for that matter.”
“Don’t talk or think like that. Of course you deserve me.” Chan stops eating to give him a very serious yet genuine stare. For some reason it immediately causes all the self-doubt thought to leave Changbin’s head.
Changbin just nods and looks down into his bowl, avoiding Chan’s eyes. They both eat in silence—not that it is a problem for Changbin. Frankly, he is too tired to speak. Every time he has spoken to Chan he has felt exasperated. Changbin has finished all the solids and has now brought the bowl to his lips to drink the rest of it. Chan watches him admirably finish the meal he just made. He is happy he was able to make something that the other man enjoys even in his state.
He watches Changbin starting to leave his chair and quickly stops him, “No. Leave it. I’ll clean it.” Chan quickly reaches over the island to grab Changbin’s dish.
Changbin allows it to happen, at the moment he is too overwhelmed by everything to fight Chan over washing a dish. Changbin puts his elbows on the table and rests his head in his hands watching as Chan scarfs down his food so he can quickly clean both their dishes and join Changbin. Chan grabs his finished plate and Changbin’s as he turns around to wash them out in the sink. He turns the sink on and gets to work scrubbing their dishes, the pot and utensils he used to make the soup. His heart is far too big to leave Changbin with all these dishes to clean while dealing with everything he went through today.
“We just established our relationship and you are already domesticated?” Changbin coos tiredly tracing his finger over the granite top.
Chan shakes his head, placing the now cleaned dishes in the drying rack, “Well how can I resist when you just exude ‘I need to be cared for’ energy.” Chan shakes his hands and then dries his hands with a hand towel in the kitchen.
Changbin can’t dispute that. He’s the one struggling with various addictions after all. Although, he’s sure Chan enjoys it. Enjoys caring for people and being of service one way or another. Changbin for sure likes caring for others himself but he also enjoys being pampered; which he doesn’t seem to reward himself with too often. As already established he is willing to let people use him and his body harshly more times than none to his own detriment. He just never really liked feeling or being seen as helpless. Perhaps he just needs the change. Maybe instead of finding comfort in damaging himself, he should accept Chan’s overindulgence. Changbin removes his gaze from the melded sediments of his table top to Chan who has started to make his way around the island to Changbin.
“Did I say something wrong?” Chan questions softly, getting closer to Changbin on his side of the counter.
Changbin looks up at him, shakes his head ‘no’, and slowly blinks, “I’m tired. I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me.”
Chan wants to say ‘of course he wouldn’t leave him’ but Changbin abruptly standing up and grabbing his wrist, cuts his need to give reassurance off. He leads Chan back to his room and into his bathroom. Without any words Changbin bends down and takes a toothbrush from beneath the sink cabinet. He hands it to Chan and he accepts it with a smile. Changbin is welcoming him to stay the night in his home. He would never turn down such an opportunity. Plus, considering the day Changbin has had, he wouldn't want to leave him alone anyway. Both of them brush their teeth together, when both of them are finished Changbin offers his closet to Chan and allows him to relax in his bed while waiting for him. Chan does as he’s told and exits the bathroom while Changbin uses the toilet. He rummages through Changbin’s closet in search of something he feels he can sleep in comfortably. He eventually lands on a pair of black shorts and a baggy white shirt. He steps into the shorts and takes his old hoodie off to start and puts the white shirt on when Changbin steps out of the bathroom.
Chan slides the shirt over his head, “I can sleep on the couch,” He assures him, figuring that despite them agreeing to a relationship, that maybe immediately sleeping next to one another might be moving too fast. Especially, considering they both might have some unresolved grief between the two of them.
“I want you here. With me. Please.” Changbin pleads with his words slurring sleepily as he gets closer to Chan.
When Changbin gets close enough so he can hold the sides of the other man’s face. He gives Chan a light peck on the lips. Which automatically causes a smile to sneak across his face, his dimples allowing themselves to be known. Changbin can’t help but melt at the sight. There are those beautiful dimples he’s been having nightmares about. It is safe to say that his nightmares will no longer be those but instead dreams. Dreams about his now boyfriend, without a need to feel guilt or regret of what he couldn’t have.
If that wasn’t convincing enough Chan doesn’t know what else could possibly be, “How can I say ‘no’ to that?” He lets Changbin lead him into the bed.
Both situate themselves under the covers and surprisingly Changbin is quick to snuggle up against Chan’s body. He feels like he’s found a new refugee. He knows Chan is a great replacement for whatever he’s been doing. He actually feels like he doesn’t need to be ashamed of who he is and what he’s done with Chan. Changbin nuzzles himself into the other man’s neck resting his hand on his chest. He almost instantly falls asleep, his warm breath brushing against Chan’s neck. The whole moment is so surreal for Chan. All he can think about at the moment is all the resources he needs to find to help Changbin. All the time, patience, and energy both him and Changbin will need in the foreseeable future. Before his thoughts can force him into a sleepless night of planning out the future, Changbin stirs, nestling impossibly closer.
Chan sighs and whispers to the unconscious Changbin, “Ah, okay I get it. I’ve got the message.” Somehow Changbin is able to feel his unrestlessness even in his sleep, it seems.
Chan takes the hint from the universe and decides to just live in the moment. He leaves a light kiss on Changbin’s forehead and closes his eyes. He falls into a deep sleep with Changbin’s hand over his heart and his warm breath anchoring him in the reality of the current. A place where he doesn’t need to reminisce of what he lost but who he’s now gained—The love of his past life.