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Justice is not everyone's right—Sung Hanbin has learned this the hard way.
There is no such thing as being punished for your crimes, and bad people don't have to live with the consequences of their evil. They repent with no real intention behind it in a foolish circus conducted by a sadistic showman as society plays the public. After that, however, their lives go on, free and unchained.
Hanbin has always thought of himself as an ethical person—with morals that hold his very core with strength and keep him grounded.
He knows not to steal, something his mother has taught him in kindergarten.
Talking back to a professor was a sign of rudeness, so he never did it. He was aware of what social etiquette meant, and he had mastered all cues that belonged to it.
Hanbin never littered, not even when his friends in high school revered themselves as cool enough to fill their lungs with nicotine, throw the butts anywhere they pleased, or when they trashed markets with attitude and entitlement.
Not once had he been rude to someone nice. Sung Hanbin, noble and with the warmest soul; so much affection and joy to offer the people he loves that he feels it spill over sometimes.
Just as blood is currently dripping from the cold head of the hammer in his right hand. Hanbin hears the satisfying drops hit the marbled floor, ringing reassurance that he is doing his job well.
The pungent smell of disinfectant manages to slip under his thick mask, and he scrunches his nose at the random hints that hit him every now and then as he swings his arm.
Some sweat is collecting under his hair, clinging to his forehead and nape, and he breathes heavily when the yelling comes to an end.
The man on the floor has his eyes closed, a demon that gets to rest even after being the reason for so many others' nightmares.
He takes his hand, carefully covered with black gloves, away from the unconscious man's mouth, and he observes what's unfolding for him. The blood spattered all around like the artistic child of a maniacal painter obsessed with crimson, the mangled hands that lay lifeless on the sides of the slim body.
Hanbin is a role model of a citizen. An adamant, respectful follower of the rules, whether it was about constructs or the rigid ones of the law.
He loves deeply and cares for his friends—always the one who received the kindest and warmest praises from his peers and relatives.
He is nice to nice people; it's what he has grown accustomed to doing. Hanbin will be the most cordial being to a good person and the worst nightmare for an evil one.
Like the man with dark hair sticking on his face and a sharp jaw slack that has his head dropped on the floor.
He watches and watches for minutes, Hanbin, as he reminds himself of why it is so deliciously satisfying to see bad people hurt.
The lesson comes to him after high school, in a dark and isolated street by the school building—it comes to him as a revelation, as he clashes his fists against the face of his best friend's bully, the best friend who had to leave Hanbin and the city just to escape from the constant tortures.
Hanbin had hit the other boy until his whole body trembled with rage and violence, until his hands hurt and bled in big gushes of red, until his throat grew tired of screaming at the one responsible person for ruining someone's life.
Someone who was kind, sweet, and who didn't expect to find such cruelty in the world. Someone who couldn't be heard by the people in uniforms whose job was supposed to protect him.
That evening Hanbin held a life between his wet fingers, slipping away the more he let his anger take over him. He heard dozens of "Sorry"s being breathed out, hiccuped in-between cries while he kept dragging the body back, careless of the noise.
Just like the other boy had been with his best friend's pleas.
After that day, Hanbin vows to himself, under a big, pretty moon, that he will paint every devil that roams freely red until he brings something new to life.
His own reinvention of justice. Reshape it into something more gruesome but honest—back to its initial, primordial sense.
So, Hanbin becomes justice.
A few years later, his life changes slightly at first when he meets Zhang Hao. Then it distorts completely, crumpled like foil—chaotic and erratic—and then it takes shape, a new one that hardens and looks like it holds more significance, somehow. It becomes rich with meaning, something to look forward to, exciting and raw.
Zhang Hao is merely smiling when he sees him the first time, surrounded by the group of friends he has.
They're all chatting animatedly, and Gyuvin is moving, half hugging Matthew while telling Hanbin about his old friend from China as Gunwook talks to the new presence in his friend group.
Zhang Hao has just transferred to the university to finish his last year of studies. He has been to this country before, he tells Hanbin with a smile and a straw between his teeth.
Hao had to go home to be with his family but was now ready to move back, study hard, and accomplish all his goals.
Hanbin finds it entrancing—the way the beautiful man talks and laughs. His cheekbones rise every time his lips curve into a smile or when he winces at something not so funny that Gyuvin says.
Zhang Hao has a solid work ethic; he also learns while they sit down in the cafeteria. He loves studying, putting hours and hours into working even when a lot of times he is smart enough to get lessons incredibly quick.
He is a single kid and loves his family dearly, which is the main reason he has left home to become great and make them proud.
They spend hours talking and exchanging information about each other—something that seems to startle his other friends around the table, who start sheepishly finding very dumb excuses to leave them alone one by one.
Hanbin would scold them, probably, if it wasn't for the fact that Zhang Hao holds inside of him every precious notion that Hanbin ever considered associating to love.
Zhang Hao has fair skin, a result of many products used on him; Hanbin is sure of that. His eyes are a very deep brown, almost black, and he likes to wear make-up, even if barely noticeable. He tells Hanbin that he likes the feeling of the brush against his skin, giggling.
Hanbin replies with a completely dumb smile that he thinks looks pathetic, but he can't help the enchantment that conquers his heart when looking at the new person he has met.
Pretty, skinny fingers belong to Hao, and to a violin, Hao belongs. He tells Hanbin about his adventures with said instrument and all the tiny little scars with figments of a life he is just learning about, a life he finds sad not having shared before.
Hao likes salty snacks and walks by the river. He enjoys spending time alone just as much as he treasures moments with his friends. He loves durian, reading books, and watching romantic comedies that keep him anchored to a TV for weeks.
Hanbin likes Hao; he makes that assessment approximately half an hour spent with the older man.
He likes Hao and everything that he represents, all the values he shares with him, and all the details he shows off to the world, superficial and unapologetic.
Hanbin grows greedier every second that goes by—he needs to know more; he needs to know everything about Zhang Hao and make him know how perfect Hanbin is for him.
How he will never find someone as perfect for him as Hanbin.
With a heavy heart, he says goodbye to Zhang Hao after a couple of hours of drinking iced coffees and talking. Hao tells him to speak informally to him, calling him hyung from now on when he sees him, and he has no clue about the way Hanbin clings to those words like a lifeline.
He nods and waves his right hand in the air, watching the man with honey brown hair leave him, the slim silhouette getting smaller until he disappears from Hanbin's sight.
Nothing is ever the same.
It does start with small actions. Hanbin asking Gyuvin what Hao's courses are just so they can all go out more often as a group. He wakes up half an hour early to meet Hao at the café on campus, where he learns Hao stops by every morning before class.
It's a coincidence met with warmth—Hao is rather grumpy in the morning, he learns, but he still tries his best to smile brightly at Hanbin.
"Oh, Sung Hanbin." He greets him with knit eyebrows and a yawn that he covers with an open hand. "You come here too?"
Hanbin says hello, bowing politely and receiving a gentle pat on the arm.
"You really don't have to be so formal." Hao giggles in melodic deep laughs and leaves the hand around Hanbin's arm—something that urges Hanbin's cheeks to flush with shyness. "I already told you you can call me hyung."
He nods, pushing himself not to dwell too hard on the physical contact. "I like their coffee." It's another lie he shamelessly informs the other with.
Hanbin has no clue what this cafe's drinks are, but it will become his favorite place in town if it means seeing Zhang Hao rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of a hoodie too big and pouting, deep in thought about what to order.
Hao spents a few more minutes adorably mumbling and complaining about his lessons and what a horrible night of sleep he has had while sipping a hot latte.
He notes that Hao is extremely cute.
He does things with either extreme sex appeal or with incredible cuteness that leaves Hanbin speechless. He annoys his friends with sweet pouts and likes to be taken care of just as much as he loves taking care of others. Gyuvin lets him know that Hao most definitely likes to be taken care of more than the latter option.
Hanbin puts all this information in little drawers in his mind, and when he has the time, he uses his little journal, which he usually adopts for the contemporary history class.
Sung Hanbin can't help but be head over heels in a matter of weeks, and Hao becomes all he can think about.
Of ways to see him more often, on how to meet him again, when to plan an encounter, what other stories Hanbin doesn't know about, and how he can get Hao to share them with him.
He thinks about Zhang Hao when walking, when eating, showering, and in bed at night while blinking at the white ceiling, the same ceiling he finds in the morning after cracking his eyes open and Hao is there contaminating his every thought.
Hanbin wants to do something about it—he really does. Something good, possibly, so when it gets too much some nights, he shakes his head and gets up from the bed.
He takes one of his black masks and one of his black hoodies, taps on his phone to look for the months' worth of research on the evil he knows infests the city's streets.
Hanbin thinks about Hao when tracing hints and stories of lives that are just waiting to be found by Hanbin's own personal justice. Hao is there when he sneaks into a new apartment, one that belongs to a cancerous cell of society.
His thoughts are made bright by jutted-out bottom lips that take the shape of little laughs and interested eyes when he slams infected human flesh with hits.
With blood constellations adorning the dirty living room and the hardwood floor, laments from a man who never once asked for permission before taking what he thought was his right, Hanbin thinks of Hao. He imagines a world just for Hao where he takes cares of all the evil people so that they will never touch Hao.
Hanbin clocks hit after hit with the precision of a hawk, and he revels in the pain that the man under him shares—big cries that are muffled by Hanbin's hand on his mouth, comically large eyes that beg to make it all stop, to have mercy.
Bad people don't show the same kind of regard to the ones they hurt, so why should Hanbin?
The next day, Hanbin finds himself at the school's cafeteria, lazily sipping some soda from a can at lunchtime.
Everyone around him has their mouth full when he sees Hao approach the table—an outline in his peripheral vision that dominates his attention completely.
He looks beautiful today, too. With a simple yet captivating shirt that clings to his body perfectly, hugging every curve and grasping every line, and comfortable jeans. Hanbin never thought he would see the day he would be jealous of fabric.
Hao is flashing a cute smile before even sitting down, greeting everyone with a polite bending of his body and placing his brown bag on the seat opposite Hanbin—their eyes meet just for a moment, and it has Hanbin yearning for more.
"What are we talking about?" It's the first thing the older one says when he steals a little snack from Gyuvin. His long legs cross under the table by the movement and the tiny nudge that hits his shin.
Hao is awfully quick to direct the smallest "Sorry." towards him, unaware of the fact that Hanbin would let him do much worse if he wanted to.
"We were talking about the project for a class we share but I've got something juicier." Gyuvin has his big eyes darting from each person around the rectangular table. "They found another victim."
Hanbin doesn't show any emotion—he casually raises an eyebrow just like almost everyone who is looking at Gyuvin, and he keeps eating some rice.
"What victim?" Matthew, by his side, mumbles the question in confusion with a mouth full of spicy something he didn't have time to notice. "Oh, do you mean the person who's been going around beating people up?"
The hold on his chopsticks stiffens slightly, and Hanbin lowers his head with some of the food on the plate. His friends keep chatting.
"They're not just people," Gunwook intervenes while stretching his right arm to rest it on Matthew's chair. "They're criminals that got pathetic sentences compared to what their crimes were."
Gyuvin nods vehemently. "There's plenty of accounts across all social media digging stuff up to help whoever is doing—" he takes a sip of water. "All the beating."
Hanbin pushes down the urge to smile given how many hours he has spent on said accounts, noting things down. All articles about reduced sentences for sex offenders, scammers who had ruined lives, assaulters—anything, really. Anyone who he felt didn't have their fair share of justness brought on them.
He shivers at the memory of the endless amounts of comments, videos, reports, witnesses' testimonies, and evidence of the atrocities they had to go through just for the legal system to betray and abandon them.
"Do you guys remember that piece of shit doctor that used to abuse his patients when they weren't conscious?" Gyuvin talks in big gestures and with big emotions, something he has always found endearing.
Hao hums for everyone as a signal for the other to continue talking. Hanbin steals a quick glance at the man in front of him, eyes quickly dashing from a detail to the other—the pretty, light eyeliner on his lids, a small mole under his right eye, and smudged pink color on his full lips.
"He was found in a pool of blood in his studio last week, and someone found the video from an officer's body camera." He wipes his hands on his dark jeans and pats himself down to find his phone.
He takes the chance to maybe peer for a few more seconds at Hao, but he falters when he finds the other's eyes already on him, mirroring something akin to interest. The corners of his lips tentatively turn upwards, and the small, curated smile is reciprocated in a matter of seconds.
Zhang Hao resembles magnificence—more so when smiling. Accompanied by high cheekbones that make tiny wrinkles around his eyes appear and a glimpse of white teeth too.
In the meantime, Gyuvin has found his phone and is now showing all of them a very shaky video of a very familiar face.
Hanbin has to control his eyes from darkening at the recalling of the facts that are unraveling right before him. He remembers it all, and most importantly, he knows the doctor will remember what he did for the rest of his life.
"Oh, my God." The words slip past Hao's lips as he looks at the images on the screen. "Are those his hands?"
"What is left of them, at least." Gunwook murmurs behind a hand on his mouth. "Can't say he didn't deserve it."
Hanbin agrees.
"Well, he's for sure not going to be able to perform surgery ever again." Gyuvin comments, taking the phone to himself again and pressing some more.
"I doubt he will be able to eat, let alone be a doctor." Matthew places his chopsticks on the table. "I lost my appetite."
Gunwook chuckles near him, and Gyuvin shakes his head. "They found like hundreds more videos of him assaulting unconscious women on his laptop, and he is apparently asking to be sent to prison again."
"What?" He participates in the conversation just for show, a little theatrical version of Sung Hanbin that has no clue of what is happening.
Gyuvin parts his eyes with the screen to stare at him. "The streets are saying he got a warning. He either gets back in prison on his own to serve his fair sentence, or whoever butchered his hands is going to finish the job next time."
"That's terrifying." Matthew whispers out. "Doesn't that scare you guys?"
Gunwook takes the question and scoffs out loud, his cute features contorting into amusement. "Why? They're only targeting the scum of the earth. They're doing all of us a favor."
The actor Sung Hanbin hums slightly around his chopsticks, with reservations. The Sung Hanbin whose bones still hurt from the revenge he has gotten is giving himself the smuggest of looks.
"I guess," Matthew whispers. "It's good in order to scare off other criminals too, right?"
The boy by Hao's side nods again. "Agreed. There's far too many assholes roaming around with no repercussions for what they did."
Matthew pushes his plate away from him with a hand, intent on eating no more. "I just don't know if violence is the right answer, that's all. But I understand why they do it."
"What do you think, Hao hyung?" Gunwook points at the newest addition to the friend group with his chin, curious to know his opinion on the subject given his quietness.
The man in front of him shrugs both shoulders and takes another salty chip from Gyuvin's bag. "I think it was about time someone stood up to this shitty system and kicked some ass."
It's a sentence that drops a layer of silence on the group. Gunwook is nodding in agreement, Gyuvin and Matthew let the words sink in, and Hanbin's eyes must probably be sparkling with veneration.
Some newfound pride digs deep into his chest, drilling until it reaches his heart and lights it up on fire. Zhang Hao thinks what he is doing is right.
Charming, cute, and enchanting, Zhang Hao approves of him.
Hanbin's smile is impossible to stop—he licks his lips and bites down the flesh to hold down the gloating.
Hao doesn't seem to notice; he goes back to stealing chips from Gyuvin, and he gives Hanbin a questioning raise of an eyebrow, eyeing the can in his right hand.
Hanbin gives it in a heartbeat and beams at the happy reaction it gets from Hao while the others at the table change the topic of conversation and venture into the terror that pursuing journalism is.
That evening Hanbin lies in bed, smiling to himself and fantasizing about realities where he gets to touch Hao and be his safe light, his only point of reference in the world while everyone struggles to stay relevant in his life.
He wants Hao entirely and with no limits, and he wants Hao to want him back just with as much ardor, if it's even possible.
That night, deep into the darkest hours, Hanbin's hands dip in red again, and the smile never once disappears from his lips while he hunts down and devours the next person on his list.
Because Zhang Hao thinks that Hanbin is right—he shares his same beliefs and is secretly cheering him on as he deals with the evil souls polluting the good.
They decide to meet again only a few days later because Hanbin's will makes it possible. He calls Hao the night after the talk in the cafeteria while he walks the deserted streets of the city back home, one clean hand on the phone and the other inside the pocket of his jacket. Hanbin asks him to meet for breakfast at his place.
Hao sounds way too excited, and it brings a smile to Hanbin's face too as he turns the keys of his apartment inside the keyhole.
He can't seem to fall asleep after hanging up and showering with almost boiling water. Hanbin stares at the wall of his room, with his jaw hurting from the unhealthy amount of happiness he feels, if that's even attainable.
“Don’t touch that,” he scolds the moment he sees the other take the pack of flour in his hands. He immediately receives the dirtiest of looks from a frowning Hao sitting on the sturdy table in the middle of the kitchen.
“Can you let me do something?” He groans, swinging his legs up and down and putting down the flour, his forehead full of contradicted wrinkles as he stares at him.
“Absolutely not, Gyuvin warned me about your nonexistent cooking skills,” Hanbin answers, mixing the curry in the little pot one more time before letting the spoon rest on the counter and turning around.
“How was I supposed to know that garlic doesn’t need to turn black?” Hao is pouting as he walks towards him, shortening the distance between them.
He takes the package of flour and sets it aside even further from the older, just in case, but Hao seems to notice, and he lets out a huff of air in indignation.
"It’s called having common sense, hyung, he giggles softly, trying not to let his eyes wander over the other man's exposed thighs, the black shorts riding dangerously up his leg revealing mouthwatering portions of skin. "How can someone so smart and skilled be so bad at something?” he laughs, teasingly, receiving a playful kick in the shin in response.
“Ouch,” Hanbin complains, holding the injured part of his leg, faking pain, “You’re such a violent person.”
Ironic enough.
Hao simply shows him his tongue, basically blowing raspberries at him like a little kid, which manages to widen his smile even more.
Hanbin has also learned during the weeks of knowing Zhang Hao that he is a walking mix of contradictions in the best way possible.
He is so effortlessly funny yet the most diligent person he knows—a hardworking, serious soul who puts his all into everything he does but at the same time so childish and cute it was almost impossible for Hanbin not to start falling in love with him.
It was inevitable, really, no matter how hard he tried to keep all the overwhelming knots of emotions that gradually became uncontrollable at bay. But watching Hao had been easier than he first expected too, following him around and getting to know him better. It had been so easy that Hanbin could not resist the temptation.
“I’ll have you know that I am good at everything, cooking included.” Hao drags the last words out, mocking him even more with a floating index pointing right at his chest.
Hanbin gets closer at that, holding the finger touching his white t-shirt with his whole hand and so close he can smell the slight coconut perfume he has now learned to associate with Hao.
“It's fine not to be perfect at everything, you know that, right?” he raises his eyebrows, questioning him. The other mirrors the smile Hanbin himself has plastered on his face.
“I know you're not talking,” he rolls his eyes, pulling him closer by the hand as he opens it to hold it—Hanbin is almost between his legs now, his chest moving a little bit faster at the closeness, their eyes meeting so easily as always, reciprocating smiles and fingers interlocking so naturally.
Hanbin really should not be talking—he's far from perfect. He's flawed, humanly so, and with the best intentions in mind.
Now, he wants to make life better for Hao, too. He hurts with one more person in his thoughts, with sparkly eyes and playful grins that make Hanbin inhibited, and as the biggest oxymoron: sweet and violent, simultaneously.
Hao looks beautiful under the morning rays coming from the window of the kitchen, the brown strands creating an angelic crown over his head. He has told him he looks good with this hair color since they got closer and more comfortable with each other—constantly commenting on it as soon as the light hits it prettily during specific times of the day.
He has pretty eyelashes that have the tiniest bits of mascara still in them. His lips seem a little bit dry, and there's no sign of makeup covering the pretty moles on his face he likes observing.
The cute one on the right, right under his eye, and its sibling on the other cheek—Hanbin wants to know how many kisses could cover the space between them.
Three, maybe four if he pressed his lips shortly on his perfect nose.
Hanbin has been wanting to kiss Hao for what feels like multiple lifetimes.
He has thought of kissing him since the very first time they met, the day after that at the cafe, two days later when they met by accident around the campus, weeks in motion when they talk in the cafeteria, and every day since then, every hour spent with him, every giggle, and every smile they shared; he has wanted to kiss him.
Because Hao is so easy to admire and adore, and it's even easier to have little recurring dreams about lives where kissing him doesn't seem that far-fetched. Where they are each other's whole reason for breathing.
As he lets his eyes caress the soft lines of Hao’s face, the thought of kissing him has never felt this pressuring. His hand is conquered by the other's hand, their eyes are locked, their breathing is heavy, and Hao rolls his eyes in that one way that makes him go insane.
Taking the last step forward to completely close the distance between their bodies and lips has never felt more natural.
And Hao kisses the same as he talks and poses and smiles. With so much genuineness and charm that Hanbin's whole body goes limp for a few seconds before Hao's fingers grip at his shoulders, and he is brought back to Earth.
They separate for a moment, uncertain on how to proceed, but Hao smiles cutely at him, showing a bit of white teeth, and he tucks Hanbin's hair behind his ear. "Took you long enough."
They don't talk about it anymore. They cook and laugh and keep each other company until the afternoon when Hao has to leave him to go study, and Hanbin stares at him blankly from the door.
There is no other kiss, and Hanbin regrets not taking more of those steps in the right direction—showing Hao how serious he is about his feelings, how carnally he wants him and needs him.
But they part with a lingering promise that opens endless possibilities. Hao smiles at him and tells him, "I'll see you later, Hanbinie." with a teasing shadow dancing in his eyes, and Hanbin nods, watching him go away.
Merely two days later, Hanbin is pressing two fingers against his temples and circling his skin for some relief. He's growing tired of the deafening music in the house, the drink in his hand tastes too bitter, the clothes cling to his body uncomfortably, and all he wants to do is leave.
But he has to stay and be patient.
When Gunwook first told them he would hold a party for the conclusion of their semester, Hanbin was slightly interested but not that eager to join in.
"Have you seen Hao hyung?" He asks Gyuvin when he enters the kitchen and is close enough to his ear.
Hanbin tries to keep a normal voice, but the anticipation is killing him. He has been waiting to talk to Hao again since three days ago in the cafeteria, and he hasn't had a chance to do so for far too long.
Gyuvin hands a bottle of water to a boy beside him and shakes his head towards Hanbin with furrowed eyebrows. "I think he went upstairs, but I'm not sure."
The upbeat music is becoming awful to listen to—it's loud and not at all to Hanbin's liking. The only reason he even confirmed his presence was just because he overheard Hao enthusiastically telling Matthew he would be there tonight.
He follows the younger's direction and ventures into the sea of sweaty people dancing in the space. He finally finds the stairs and climbs them, joyous to notice the decrease in people as he keeps going.
Gunwook's house is rather huge, and he's thankful for the empty hallways he's met with upstairs. He sighs out loud, leaning with his back against a wall once he's out of sight from everyone, and grunts into a hand.
Did Hao decide not to come at the last minute?
"Hey, you."
His head snaps to the sound, and his eyes widen, amazed to see soft-looking brown hair and a figure that is far too tempting to belong to anyone but Zhang Hao.
The man looks at him from afar—his right shoulder resting on the door frame of the room he just popped out of.
"Hyung," he gulps some saliva; the electrifying shock of finally meeting him sends shivers along his spine. "You're here."
Hao only raises a hand, signaling him to get closer, and Hanbin does so at a bewildering speed.
He looks beautiful—of course, he does. He has a new make-up style on, one he hasn't worn since knowing him. His eyelids are colored with darker shades than usual, almost smoky, with a sharp edge that steals Hanbin's heart.
"You're here too, Hanbinie."
He approaches, and right when he's about to lean on the wall to talk with Hao, the man disappears inside the room again, dragging Hanbin with him. Not physically, per se, but he has the power to make Hanbin follow him even by just moving some place. Like a moon orbiting around its planet.
The room is just a plain bedroom, probably one that serves the purpose of hosting guests.
He doesn't really care about observing the interior of it, not when Hao struts in front of him with a simple pair of baggy jeans and a low-cut white shirt that hangs off his shoulders beautifully.
"Are you enjoying the party?" Hao asks, but Hanbin is already snorting while he takes a seat on the big bed by the left in the room. He makes sure to close the door behind him, just so they can have more privacy and share an intimate moment for once.
Hao follows his moves with his eyes, smiling as he picks with his teeth at the nail of a hand.
"Yeah, me neither."
Hanbin sinks into the mattress and sighs, blissful of being in Hao's presence. "I'm more comfortable here, if I'm being honest."
Hao laughs, with that loud and endearing laugh of his that embroils all his facial features in it. "I agree."
"You look very pretty tonight." The praise is ripped from his brain and put into the world for Hao to listen to, and it seems to be received well. Hao's cheeks flush slowly with some pink hues; Hanbin notices even when the room is dipped in mostly darkness.
But Hao doesn't stop there; he takes a few steps towards Hanbin and smiles at him until he's standing right before him. "Do you want to kiss me again, by any chance?"
Hanbin would do unspeakable and terrorizing things for another chance at kissing him. However, he frowns softly when Hao moves. "What are you doing?" he manages to blurt out when Hao clutches at his waist and starts sinking down on his knees.
Hanbin wants to stop him, somehow, because the idea of having Hao kneeling for him is preposterous. He should be the one begging and crawling at the other's feet just for a chance to touch him, but the roles seem to be antithetical to what Hanbin had originally thought.
"Don't you want to?" Hao pushes the weight of his body against his calves, and he sits on the black carpet, peering at Hanbin with a few strands of hair covering his forehead.
He gapes, speechless, and gulps down saliva that makes the inside of his mouth water. "Absolutely, but—"
Hao's slim fingers are already curling around the knuckle of his leather belt—confident and experienced. "Then let me."
His hands find the bed under him, planting themselves on the sides of his body as he watches Hao undo the belt, slowly and with every intention of killing Hanbin by the way he never backs down from direct eye contact.
The room is so quiet; if not for the muffled music coming from downstairs, he can hear every little sound made by the metal buckle. It's simultaneously fraught with agitation and deadly exciting. "Do you like me?"
Only thinking about replying negatively to the question has him in shambles. What kind of insane person would ever say no to that?
"Of course I do, hyung." He shakes his head and also rubs off the absurdity of the inquiry.
The pathetic growing boner he has inside his briefs is supplicant to get attention, and he almost feels ashamed by it—the man on his knees, however, mirrors everything but disapproval.
"I like you too, Hanbinie." Hao shares, then. The belt is undone, both sides of the black strap are lying on his lap, and there are more curious fingers creeping to the two buttons of his jeans. "You are always so nice to everyone, so sweet and caring."
The hands slide down the zipper easily, and Hanbin jerks his hips upwards to help Hao lower his pants like he's under the influence of some substance.
"Always so polite and with the warmest eyes."
Hypnotized, he gawks at the prettiest face he's ever seen in his life, focused solemnly on Hanbin—his pleasure. It sends the most wicked shiver along his spine.
Hao's fingers come to a halt, just as they threaten to dip inside Hanbin's white briefs. "But with me," he begins, licking his lips just for a short moment. "Sometimes you look at me like a psycho."
His breath hitches, and his whole body tightens with tension. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said," Hao confirms with no hesitation. "Like you're about to eat me whole."
I want to, Hanbin considers. Despite his way of thinking, he should disagree—tell Hao that he sounds crazy and that it's fruit of his imagination.
He stays silent, instead, and Hao doesn't seem to mind. "Don't get me wrong, I like it."
And Hanbin's entire world stops spinning at that. He beholds the sight between his parted legs with slightly wide eyes, not sure what to make of the words he just heard.
"I like the way your eyes darken when you look at me only," Hao whispers, nudging for Hanbin to let him slide down the briefs too. He does, just enough to let his dick spring free; a few chills from the change in temperature cause some goosebumps to appear on his arms. "It makes me dizzy and eager to see what that stare specifically entails."
He wouldn't even be able to tell him the things he would do to Hao and the stuff he would be willing to do to please him.
Hao brings the right hand to his mouth and gives the palm a long lick—the saliva reflects under the dim LED lights of the bedroom, and Hanbin's cock twitches immediately in interest.
As soon as his hand is lubricated a little, Hao's tongue retracting, his cold finger finally wraps around Hanbin's dick. The touch is fiery, and the first few pumps Hao gifts him are merely a test.
Hao tilts his head to the left as he finally leaves Hanbin's eyes to concentrate on his member; a sheepish smile is shown before he hums in content. "Can you show me?"
The inquiry is abrupt, and it destabilizes Hanbin. "Show you what?"
"The look, and what it means," Hao raises his head. "I want to know."
Hanbin is left speechless once again by the incredibly cryptic person talking to him, demanding and touching him. His fingers squeeze at the base of Hanbin's cock, managing to make him gasp harshly.
"Can you?"
There is nothing Hanbin can do if not nod. "Yes—yes, I can."
The corners of Hao's lips turn into a new smile he has never seen before since meeting him. It's sly and furiously attractive, like he wants to be eaten whole. "I have no hard limits, but I will pinch your thigh or pat it a few times if it gets too much."
"No hard limits?" Hanbin repeats the words even if interrupted by a breathy moan when Hao's hand starts picking up the pace.
The other nods, with the slightest raise of one eyebrow. Teasingly, he smiles. "I would enjoy it for you to take control, even if it hurts a little."
He has to exhale slowly, with trembling lips at the prospect of what Hao is offering to him. Of what he's serving on the prettiest tray—himself with a little bow wrapped around the neck, asking so nicely to be wrecked.
Hanbin is observing more of Hao's face, studying the expression and reading it as if to understand just how much he means it. But Hao still has that provocative smile plastered on his plump lips, the shadow of hunger and lust playing with the lights in his eyes.
His hand moves before he can really ponder on what to do—his back straightens, and the fingers of his raised arm disappear into Hao's soft hair.
He only pulls once, a small trial to assess how comfortable the other man is with it, and by the little moan that escapes his mouth, Hanbin's sadistic smile can't be stopped. "Pinch or pat."
Hao nods with a smile that only grows wider when Hanbin slaps away his hand from the base of his dick and replaces it with his own. "Choose a word, too."
The impatient side of him, the one that has grown fond of observing Hao enter his classes, meet his friends, and drink coffee in the afternoon, is erratic and begging to be set free. The other part, however, is calm—the one that reveres Zhang Hao and hopes for nothing more than to be seen by him and be the only relevant person in his life. He wants to wait, and please, Hao, let him see how good he can be.
Hao thinks for a few seconds when he places both hands on his thighs, and Hanbin combs through his hair gently before gripping it again. "Durian."
Hanbin chuckles lowly at the randomness of the word, but he hums positively. "Okay, durian it is. One durian, and we stop."
"Yes." The confirmation is all he needs to really take a deep breath and let his other free hand take Hao's chin. He moves the other closer to his lap, even dragging him until his glossy lips are a breath away from his cock.
He only has to stroke his dick up and down a few times to let it all in—the vision between his legs. An impatient Hao who stares at him with glistening eyes and lips, so eager it almost makes Hanbin feel like…
Hao parts his lips, and his pink tongue sticks out to lap at his dick, a small lick that makes Hanbin's long eyelashes flutter in reaction.
It seems that Hao is trying to seize him up, just like Hanbin is doing by directing his cock to press against Hao's lips; a few beads of pre-cum get smeared on the glossy petals, and he feels even more out of breath.
It makes Hanbin feel like…
He parts Hao's lips easily as they let the cock enter his mouth, sliding in with no opposition—he even feels the vibrations of a low moan engulf him completely.
"You have no idea," Hanbin starts when he sees Hao sink down his length, enveloping more and more of his cock with pretty eyes still holding his gaze. "You really have no idea."
There are thousands of admissions he wants to make at the same time. Endless words to use to describe how exactly he feels when Hao gives him this much attention as he looks at Hanbin like he's the sole reason he exists.
Hao's lips stretch to take more of him, and Hanbin lets him for a few moments—curious to learn this new side of the other.
He takes off the hand from his dick to rest it on the bed and uses it as leverage while he pushes Hao's head down with his free one, rather firmly.
It's already feeling way too hot, but having Hao whimpering around his cock with hallowed cheeks and wet eyes is something he never thought he'd be lucky enough to witness, let alone experience firsthand.
When he thinks it gets too much, he hints for Hao to breathe by pulling his hair a little, and the other complies in a heartbeat.
Those sinful lips are swollen and red, lip gloss smeared all over them like fresh paint. And he waits for Hanbin. Hao waits for Hanbin to do as he pleases, showing batting eyelashes and his polite hands still on his thighs. Waiting.
It dawns on Hanbin at that moment when Hao sits so close to his throbbing cock without moving but only looking up to him that Hanbin feels like a god.
Zhang Hao's personal god to orchestrate every movement, every order he has to give that will be accepted with trepidation and obedience.
"Fuck," he curses under his breath, before he pushes Hao back, his mouth already opened to greet him. "You really have no idea."
The other seems content with the outcome as he lets out small mewls even when so full of Hanbin that he has drool dripping down his chin.
Hanbin sets a pace that pleases him—it is slow and harsh. His fingers are draped in deep brown locks as he uses Hao to follow his orgasm. Up and down, with the lewdest noises he thinks he has ever heard in his life, with Hao's throat contracting every time he presses more and more.
He drops his head and shuts his eyes closed while Hao takes him completely once again, the tip of his cock against the wetness of his throat. Hanbin only lowers his gaze again when he hears a few sputters and cries from under him.
The scene almost makes him come immediately—Hao's hands are not so politely positioned; they're palming at his own reaction, desperate for relief while big tears break from his round and beautiful eyes.
A few streams of salty liquid mark his cheeks as he still lets Hanbin hold all the control, even when his lips are quivering and his whole body tensed.
He still looks at Hanbin like he's his savior and Hao just a devoted subject who would do just about anything for him, who would make Hanbin the core of every prayer.
Hao's pretty eyes shut harshly, a sign that he can't take it anymore, and Hanbin is gentle enough to let him breathe again because he has the power to do so. He drags Hao off his cock by the hair, a loud pop that fills the room when he separates from the reddened head, and Hao pants.
He coughs a few times, more tears breaking free when he does, and his perfect cheekbones flush with crimson splashes. He's disheveled and has no control left in him. It's definitely something new.
In the weeks he has been following Hao, he has never looked like this—only the beautiful, charming, and eccentric side has been shown to Hanbin, but this… This is addictive.
This is a totally different type of high, his new favorite kind of drug, and he will never live without it ever again.
Hao is blatantly affected by the cruel session he just had to endure, but he's also visibly aroused by it.
"Hyung is so pretty," he whispers without much thought behind it. There are many other things Hanbin wants to say, the majority of which would probably scare both of them, but he will keep them to himself. For now, he just has to make Hao know how beautiful he is. "So cute."
The other seems to gloat at the praises, his already flushed cheeks deepening in color as he breathes heavily and gulps down saliva, wincing with one side of his face at the feeling.
"I'm going to ruin you, hyung." It's a promise he exhales in one breath, holding Hao's nape and tilting it enough to be able to see the beauty in front of him better. "I will make sure you won't need anyone else ever again."
Hao's little gasp is rich with need, and he nods at Hanbin, dumbly and with hope flickering in sparkling pupils.
"No one will ever compare." He starts slipping down a very dangerous slope after that. He holds Hao's scalp and stands up, dragging Hao's body with him by the side, who willingly follows and blinks in confusion.
Hao doesn't reply at all; he stretches his pretty neck more to look at a now standing Hanbin that combs his hair out of his face with one hand.
He exposes some forehead, humid strands staying out of his face as he keeps brushing them back. "I am the only one worthy of you."
The man on his knees has the most blissed expression on, hanging on every word said to him.
He should get rid of his jeans entirely just to make it easier for Hao, but he doesn't have the capacity to deal with anything other than the other right now.
"Is my pretty hyung listening?" He taps on Hao's left cheek gently, just two small nudges that get him a small sound of pleasure.
"Yes," Hao replies with a sultry whisper. "I—yes, I am." His eyes dart from Hanbin's face to the cock so close to his lips, and he gulps.
"You want my cock in your mouth that badly?" Hanbin's sick brain is beaming at the way Hao stays quiet—a tacit, shameful reply that is better than a multitude of words.
He pumps his dick a few times with the hand that leaves his cheek before taking it to Hao's mouth, which opens up for him instinctively.
Hanbin wants to say he loves him, that he really meant what he just confessed, that he's the only one suited for Hao, and he will make sure no one else ever sets eyes on him as long as he's alive.
Hao takes all of him again, enveloping and sucking his cock like it's second nature. Beautifully waiting for Hanbin's hand to push and pull at his heart's content, and he doesn't only do that.
With the new position, he can simply thrust into Hao's heat with all the freedom he wants. He bucks his hips and grunts at all the hotness invading him, surrounding him and giving him everything he needs.
"You'll be only mine, hyung," he groans as he moves in and out swiftly, past slippery lips and a path of saliva that makes it impossible for Hanbin not to become delirious.
He lowers his head and looks at Hao, still intent on keeping eye contact, a twisted and victorious light in his eyes when Hanbin stares him down. "You're mine now."
The light flickers only when they become full of tears, watery and glassy as Hao swirls his tongue around his cock, engulfing all of him, dainty nose brushing against the skin at the base of his length.
He catches Hao's hands grabbing at his own lap again, a visible bulge constricted inside the jeans—hence why Hanbin doesn't feel like a merciful god. He wants Hao just like this, crying and drooling just to taste him and take more of him, on his knees in a prayer made of whimpers and lust.
Hanbin uses him, with both hands on Hao's beautiful hand, lost in dark hair, until he sees white, and his whole body tenses up at the release that comes from the orgasm he reaches.
Hao is willingly receiving everything Hanbin has to offer, even with his whole face wincing at the invasion. He comes inside Hao's mouth with a deep, strained moan, and he only lets the other off the hook when he is almost done, pulling Hao off his length.
"Are you okay?" he asks, but Hao is gasping and coughing again with contained spasms and with harshly shut eyes.
The man rests his forehead against Hanbin's thigh, and his hips buckle and grind on the floor as he notices Hao's hand being deep in his jeans, stroking and pumping his own dick until he comes inside them.
He stares at Hanbin with an apologetic glance, and he might get hard again just from this moment alone, but he pushes back Hao's hair again and lets him lean on his left leg.
"I'm okay," Hao finally tells him with a cute, hoarse voice. "I'm better than okay, really."
Hanbin smiles as he milks his own cock of the last few drops of cum that threaten to fall—Hao is there before they do. He catches whatever Hanbin has left to give him with his tongue, only stretching his upper body to meet the sticky pearls.
He feels more warmth surround his leg, and Hanbin notices part of Hao sitting on his boot as he shifts slightly to be more comfortable.
The hand stays in his hair, brushing it and caressing Hao's cheek with fondness. Hanbin comes to the conclusion that he really wants to be Hao's religion.
"I'm going to search for some tissues, is that fine?" he asks the man with fluttering eyelashes, but he doesn't reply.
"Hao hyung?"
A low hum finally finds its way to Hanbin.
"Tissues."
"Ask me out first, and then you can do whatever you want."
His pulse quickens at the sudden outburst, especially since his dick is still out, and they both must feel uncomfortable.
But of course Hanbin cheers in his mind, almost drops to the floor by Hao's side, and cries to thank him for even considering him.
"Should we go out on a date this weekend?" He stutters, embarrassingly so, and Hao's lips smile with content.
"I would really like to." He nods with a cheek pressed on Hanbin's thigh and then separates to let him freely find something to clean them off.
Hanbin doesn't immediately, however. He raises his briefs and jeans back up and bends his knees to get on Hao's level to look at him.
Neither of them speaks first, and Hanbin arms himself with bravery to lean into Hao's lips and exchange a single, short kiss.
Admittedly nasty after said lips just gave him a blowjob, but Hao is still Hao, with the flavored lip gloss still lingering on the pink pillows that taste like raspberry.
"I think I need a shower," the older man whines softly with a pout, and Hanbin can't help but chuckle. "I can't believe I came in my pants."
Hanbin ends up finding some tissues and helps Hao the best he can. They also leave the party with not one single regret, and Hanbin drives Hao back home in his car as he watches the other warm his hands by the small air ventilation that blows out hot air and sing songs that play on the radio.
It's unnerving how he has to fake not knowing where Hao lives. Following directions that he knows by heart already and mistakenly taking a wrong turn on purpose, reassured by Hao's loud and entertained laugh.
He kisses Hao once more that night when he pulls him by the collar of his white jacket, and their lips meet on top of the armrest between them. It's still sweet, and it still fills Hanbin with a fire that burns every organ inside of him. He wants more.
When he sees Hao exit the vehicle and flee inside the building, he misses him already. He wants to take more of him, consume him completely until all he knows is Hanbin.
Dating Hao is like abusing the finest form of drug—it annihilates Hanbin and builds him back up again every time they meet.
Every time he kisses him, because now he can do that freely. Every time, Hao takes Hanbin's hand into his when walking when it's not too crowded. All the little details he can add to his already extensive list of Zhang Hao knowledge.
He takes him out to his favorite places, spoils him rotten with every little thing his heart desires, brings the world on the palm of his hand, and Hao lets him do it all while taking care of his heart.
Hao, steadily and with a pace that scares him, becomes his everything, and it hits him one night specifically when they decide to sleep together.
Hanbin’s sleep is interrupted some time during the night, a cold breeze making goosebumps appear on his arms, so he gets up—trying to dodge the corner of the bed that has left multiple bruises on his legs—and reaches for another heavy blanket on the armchair to get back in bed and cover Hao with it.
He pauses after tucking Hao in and takes a deep breath, his sleepy eyes trying to adapt to the chilly wave of light the moon casts on his bedroom from the big window.
A natural smile appears on his face before he rests his head against the pillow again; the man beside him squirms a little before getting closer to his body.
He wants to press his lips against Hao’s until he can manage to draw them from memory—trace them with his own, every little line when they’re dry and chapped after he stays outside for too long, and meet them when they’re soft, smooth and glazed with one of his many scented lip glosses.
Hao is lovely, in a heart-aching way—one that undresses Hanbin of all his restraints. One that rips into his chest and revels in squeezing his beating heart, working hard just to love Hao.
In that moment, Hanbin realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for the man in his arms.
That one single thought is put to a test not too long after that night of revelations. It's one early evening, and he's studying and reading the same paragraph in his book until it all becomes blurry ink.
Right after starting over for the hundredth time, the phone on the desk rings with a cheery ringtone, and he smiles at the name that appears on the screen. "Hao?"
"Hanbin, hi." He frowns immediately at the weird feelings he gets from hearing Hao's voice.
"I—Are you free right now?" The older man asks him, his eyebrows knit even more at the request.
Hanbin hums positively. "I am. Is something wrong?"
There is a heavy exhale, and Hao clears his throat before talking again. "Yes, I mean no. I'm okay, I just—"
"I've been in a very small car incident, and my car is blocked here, and there's this guy, and—"
His pulse quickens, and he stands up from his desk in a heartbeat. "What do you mean, incident? Are you hurt? What happened?"
The keys of his car are on the table in the kitchen, and he finds them immediately. He puts his shoes and black jacket on while Hao's sweet voice fills his ears.
"I'm not hurt, I'm fine. This jerk came out of nowhere, and now—" He is interrupted by another unfamiliar voice that storms in and covers Hao completely.
"Who are you calling a jerk, you punk? I should kill you for what you did to my car, do you know how much it will cost getting it fixed?"
Hanbin's hand stops at the door handle of his apartment, and he clutches the metal in a grip that turns his knuckles white. "Send me your location." He tries to stay calm and collected, even with the idea of someone threatening Hao, his Hao, like that and not being able to do anything about it.
"I wasn't talking to you, you fucking piece of shit." Hao seems to be doing fine at defending himself, at least with words, and it does soothe Hanbin a tad. But his whole body is on fire, and he needs to be with the other man before snapping.
"Hao, location. Now."
The man on the phone sighs deeply. "Yes, okay. I'll send it now. I have to hang up, my phone is about to die."
Hanbin slams the door shut behind him and curses at the new information. He was hoping to stay on the phone with Hao until he got to him to make sure everything was okay.
"Okay, I'll be there soon."
The drive to the location Hao sends him is nothing but a blur—his mind is busy running all kinds of scenarios. All of them end up with one stranger's face drowning in a sea of red liquid as Hanbin lets all his frustration out, but he remains composed. He needs to be.
He finally gets closer and slows down when he sees two cars by the side of a not-trafficked road—he recognizes Hao's black car and the silhouette of the man wearing a white puffer jacket and blue jeans.
Hanbin turns the car off after parking it right behind Hao's car and counts to ten before getting out; the cold air hits him again, and it does help with the heat that he feels creeping on his cheeks.
"Hao," he calls for the other, and Hao is quick to come to his side, hugging him gently and groaning into his neck. "Are you okay?"
The older man parts ways a little and nods, but Hanbin can make out the blushing marks under his eyes. He has been crying and rubbing his eyes.
Hao cried.
"I'm fine really, I'm just frustrated and angry, and this idiot is just—" he gulps. "I already called for assistance, and they'll get the car. Can we—" He looks tired. "Can we just go, please?"
Hao cried.
His eyes gander at the scene past Hao, fixating on the other person present. A man who looks around their age, maybe older, and who is pacing up and down the side of his car—the bright blue of the vehicle almost hurts his vision.
He turns back to Hao; his big round eyes are already set on him, and he softens all features completely, relaxing his eyes and pursing his lips. "Get in the car, I'll be right behind you."
Hao's eyebrows knit and his teeth relentlessly pull at his bottom lip. "Don't even try to reason with him, he's totally insane."
Hanbin chuckles internally. He has not seen real insanity yet. He presses a thumb over Hao's right cheek—right over the small mole that paints his skin—and smiles warmly. "I just want to talk with him, maybe we can settle this amicably."
Hao lets out an adorable scoff but follows Hanbin's orders and walks towards his car.
Hanbin, on the other hand, stretches his neck before taking the first steps forward—his black boots stomp on the asphalt, and he catches the attention of the stranger.
"Who the fuck are you, now?" the man questions, spitting on the ground as he sizes Hanbin up with a dirty look. His dyed blond hair is unnerving him even more, for some reason. "Where did the other talkative motherfucker go?"
He has to tell himself multiple times that Hao is right behind him, watching from the car, and upset so he can't be the reason for more added stress. He repeats the notion again and again, and once more, and then he plants his gaze on the man.
Hanbin walks past him, reaching the hood of the blue car—he taps on the hard surface and makes sure to be out of Hao's sight. "Did you apologize?"
The man gapes at the question and lets out an irritating breathy laugh. "What did you just say?"
Hanbin needs to provoke the other until he approaches him, away from the lingering and curious eyes that he knows belong to Hao.
"Did you apologize? By the damage to both cars, I can assume you were in the wrong. Did you apologize?" He should be rewarded for the self-control he's exhibiting, really, considering the way he has been talking to Hao.
"I'm not apologizing to anyone," the blond says with his thin lips curled in an unpleasant manner, but he does move the first steps into Hanbin's space. "He should be the one begging for forgiveness, and he's going to pay for what he did."
Ironically enough, the rude asshole finally is close enough for Hanbin to swing his right arm across the space between them and grip harshly at the dyed and fried hair.
Before the shorter man can do anything about it, Hanbin is smashing his face into the hood of his car. The sound of the forehead thudding on the surface is utterly satisfying.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The complaining starts even earlier than he expected. "Let me go right now before I—"
The yelling is interrupted by Hanbin raising his hand, pulling the blond hair, and smashing it against the car once more.
Another string of swearing comes out, and his arms twist to try to get to Hanbin, but he's already blocking the man and bending slightly to get close to his face.
"Are you going to apologize?" He questions as he smells the disgustingly sharp perfume on the other's skin, tickling his nose.
"No, I'm not going to fucking—"
Hanbin is promptly replying with another hard hit, and he might strengthen the hold on his hair and let his fingers dig into the scalp with the intention of hurting him as much as he can this time around.
This one must have really hurt because the man's arms decrease their energy, and they die down by the sides of his body.
Hanbin is being eaten alive by anger—it's a monster carving its way to his heart and the more he hears struggling and painful groans from the other, the faster his chest moves.
"You're going to apologize and pay for all damage, or I swear I will change the oil of this bullshit of a car with your blood." It's a whisper he almost spits in the other's face. With venom and through gritted teeth that make his jaw clench. "Talk to him like that again, and I will kill you."
The threat seems to be working its magic.
"Okay, okay—" the blond stutters out with panicked breaths, and Hanbin lets go of him slowly to make sure he won't fight back. "I will."
He pats down his clothes—a horrible colorful hoodie and perfectly ironed black pants—while stealing glances at Hanbin. He is scared, Hanbin notes, and nods to himself with satisfaction.
"Move," he orders, crossing his arms and nudging with the chin to the last car in line by the road.
They walk together, with Hanbin right behind him. He really hates every single thing about the other man, from his clothes to the perfume to the mannerisms. Even the way he walks is rubbing him the wrong way.
Hao opens the door of the car when he sees them and blinks a few times at Hanbin before turning to the reason his fingers are pulsating and his migraine is acting up.
"I'm—I'm sorry about the incident. I will take care of all expenses." It's short and concise, Hanbin thinks, but if the apology is not convincing to Hao, he will make sure the man puts more effort into it.
"Fine," the man with brown hair only says stolidly but with what Hanbin recognizes as a confused shadow in his features. However, it seems sincere, or maybe it's just Hao's way to communicate he wants this to be over as soon as possible. "I'll wait for the road assistance to come, but that's it."
The blond moves his eyes to Hanbin, as if to ask his permission to flee the scene or perhaps if the apology was heartfelt enough.
If it was up to Hanbin, he would have towered over the asshole and broken him into pieces after the first time insults were directed at Hao.
But his boyfriend looks exhausted, and his eyes are slightly puffed and still flushed, so he tilts his head at the insufferable bastard and makes him disappear back to his own car.
Hanbin gets quickly inside his car, too. And Hao is already there, staring at him with inquisitive eyes. "What did you?" he asks him as soon as he places a hand on the steering wheel.
Hanbin makes a little pout that shows confusion—albeit, fake. "Nothing."
Hao narrows his eyes and studies Hanbin's face. He can see the deep coffee irises travel on his features, on his lips and cheeks, then on his hands. "His right cheek was all red."
"It's pretty cold today."
"Hanbin."
He turns to Hao, and they hold each other's gaze, silently. One questioning, one harboring secrets.
"You're not paying, and he apologized; isn't that good news?" Hanbin lays back against the seat and reaches for Hao's hand with his own. His cold fingers intertwine easily with Hao's in the space where the handbrake is.
"It is, but—" Hao begins, biting the inside of his bottom lip in the way he does when nervous. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me."
Hanbin has to resist the urge to coo obnoxiously loud at the older man, and he brings Hao's hand to his lips to leave a gentle, short kiss on the back of it.
He really has no idea Hanbin would die for him if Hao asked him to.
"I'm okay as long as you are, hyung," he wholeheartedly admits. "That's all I need."
The older man blinks and purses his lips with worry, but he nods.
Hanbin clings to Hao like a tattoo for the rest of the week, careful to still leave him some personal space but always around him to make sure he is doing well. Hao seems to enjoy the special treatment way too much by the way he drags Hanbin inside a bathroom stall of the school just to let Hanbin fuck him until he's a trembling mess.
The truth is that Hanbin has to do something now, especially when he keeps scrolling through the myriad of proofs and testaments of those affected by the man he wants to kill. And more so when the man he wants to kill happens to be the one that made Hao cry.
Not figuratively, Hanbin ponders on the way to the pub he knows he will find the one man he needs to get his hands on. He has never wanted to kill someone more in his entire life—not when he was one breath away from the chance of doing it, but now.
When he sees his target stagger his way from the bar counter and reach for the door in the back, it gets him outside the small street, dangerously close to where Hanbin's car is. Where Hanbin knows there are no cameras.
He doesn't really have to do much. Kim Taeho is known to use all sorts of drugs to entertain himself and use them on other people too—on girls and boys who swallow them with no consent.
The man teeters and clashes right by some trash cans, and Hanbin watches with nothing but disgust under his mask and black cap. It doesn't take a lot of effort to fake friendliness, hook an arm around his waist, and tell him he's there to help him go back home.
Kim Taeho follows him like a moth to the flame, limping and so out of it he stutters random words that are supposed to be sexy or sultry. Hanbin takes him to his car and expectantly witnesses the blond man fall on the back seats, unconscious and limp.
Hanbin whistles a few tones while driving outside the city, the radio playing songs he really enjoys as he pulls up to his cabin. He drags the body inside and drops it on the floor for now, pulling a chair from under the table and a few more tools he will need.
He ties him up on the chair, not struggling even once and squeezing the flesh with rope until he's satisfied with the red marks it leaves around his wrists. He plays with a knife in his hands, Hanbin, waiting for the man to regain consciousness, to play with him, and then bring peace to his victims.
Kim Taeho starts waking up only when Hanbin hits his forehead with steady slaps and then moves along to his right cheek.
The other cracks his eyes open, and Hanbin snorts at the way they only seem to grow wider and wider as he stares at him and then his surroundings.
The cabin is almost empty and with no hint about their whereabouts—it's just something he loves about the family property that everyone but Hanbin wanted to sell.
He takes off his mask, with no rush in his movements. "I really have done a lot of thinking while you were out."
A black cloth between his teeth renders it impossible for him to speak, so he decides to rock his body on the chair, panic and desperation taking over as he tries to free himself. It's not happening any time soon, Hanbin wants to put his mind at ease.
"See, I did some digging," Hanbin starts, pressing the point of the knife on the other hand's index until it stings. "And I did not like what I found, Taeho." He talks with a formal tone, deliberately so just to mess with him even more.
The man widens his eyes until they're comically large, his whole body freezes, and Hanbin shows his most satisfied smile. "Something specifically got my interest. Do you want to hear about it?"
Taeho contorts and shakes his head; the gratifying first tears start falling, and Hanbin hasn't done anything yet.
"About this one boy two years ago, who made the fatal decision of going out with you one night. Club with you, have fun, flirt, and do all sorts of stuff we love to do." He starts with already built-up anger burning in his chest.
"The boy who was found dead that same night, by the side of the street, hurt and alone." His voice is cold, and yet it is brimmed with empathy—towards the many people the man in front of him has toyed with, like they're objects alive only for him to play with.
The mere thought of Hao being one of those makes the vein in his neck throb in fury.
"You killed him with that little blue car of yours, didn't you?" The question is purely rhetorical even if he has zero evidence at hand. But Hanbin has learned, in the past year, that there is only one thing that will make people reveal their true selves.
Fear.
He watches as the man's Adam's apple bobs heavily, the fabric between his teeth twitches as the tears keep pouring.
"You just left him on the side of the road, ran away like the fucking coward that you are, and let your family deal with it." Hanbin clicks his tongue. "Well, your family's money, at least."
"But that's not the whole story, is it?" Hanbin continues, fueled by the salty rivers that wet the skin of the killer in front of him. "You did something to him in that car before the accident."
The man shakes his head, and Hanbin grows more angry because he does not like being lied to—especially when he holds the truth so vividly. So he nods at the negative answer and plants the knife right in the space between the man's parted legs with a swift motion. A loud whimper gets past the black fabric on his lips.
"Do not lie to me."
He tries to speak, a mumbling mess, only manages to find Hanbin, and he rolls his eyes while tugging on the cloth and setting his mouth free. "He didn't say no," the man yells immediately. "He wanted to do it, he didn't say no, and he didn't stop me."
"And the fact that he was drugged and incapable of even saying no means nothing to you?" Hanbin tilts his head, picking up the knife again when another whimper gets out. "Drugs that you forced him to take, in case you forgot."
"Did you want to get your hands on the man from last week, too?" Hanbin asks, tilting his head. "The talkative motherfucker who you apologized to?"
For the first time, Hanbin is scared of his own reaction when faced with the truth.
The man on the chair blinks furiously, but he doesn't answer. He swallows more saliva and lets more tears run down his cheeks.
The silence tells Hanbin more than words would, and there is no stopping the way his fingers curl into fists as he stares the man in the eyes.
"No—No, I didn't." The scumbag must have noticed Hanbin's physical response at the quiet acknowledgment, and it does not alleviate his anger at all. It just foments it even more. The rage is consuming him as multiple visions of the man in front of him touching Hao fill his already vexed mind.
"I can't believe I thought of giving you a quick death for a split second." His voice is unrecognizable, even to Hanbin himself. He has never felt this much wrath, and it blinds him.
The mop is swaying left and right at Hanbin's command, picking up the last stripes of blood that paint on the laminate floor. He has already gotten rid of the body—drove for thirty minutes to the abandoned graveyard outside town and disposed of the heavy body into a new personalized hole.
The white t-shirt he has on is clinging to his body and causing a few beads of sweat to collect at the sides of his head, but he wipes them away with his free hand as best as he can.
There are still splashes of dark crimson on his body, and he sighs at the thought of having to wash it all off before leaving the cabin. Hanbin glances at the little formation of solvents and products he has out to clean everything and sighs one more time—his whole body hurts.
Dragging a full man, for he doesn't even remember how long, might have taken a toll on him, but he has at least accomplished his latest mission, so if only cleaning remains to tick off his list, he is fine with it.
He takes only one moment to press a hand on the sore muscles of his nape when the phone inside the pocket of the blue rubber apron dings multiple times. Careful not to extend the blood anywhere else, he fetches the phone with his clean, naked hand, and a warm smile brightens his features.
Haobao <3
"Hanbiniiieeee are you coming tonight?"
"I'm boreddd"
"I'm so boredddd Hanbiniieee :("
He smiles spontaneously at the stream of texts and swipes his thumb on the screen.
You
"I will be there in a couple of hours, is that okay?<3"
Haobao <3
"Hours????"
"That's like a lot of minutes"
"Too many to even count, I feel weak in the knees"
The curve of his lips must look so incredibly dumb while he reads, but he can't help cooing at the little black letters on his phone, his brain already hearing Hao's voice as he scans through the texts.
You
"Just two, I promise. Will you still be awake by then?"
Haobao <3
"I'll try my best :("
"What are you doing btw? Can't you just leave and come here instead?"
He surveys the room where he is right now, the floors almost clean and the water tinted with a feeble red at his feet. The silence that only the countryside can offer, with a few sputters of noise every now and then given by the big freezer Hanbin keeps in the kitchen.
The rubber glove he has on one hand is starting to stick to his skin, and the blood does certainly not help—but he is almost done, and the prospect of spending the night with Hao rekindles a fire of willpower in him.
You
"Just taking care of something I can't postpone, sorry hyung."
Haobao <3
"Yeah, when you should be taking care of me instead :("
"So unfair"
"Oh, how will I ever survive this"
"My whole heart is hurting"
"I will die for real, I can feel it"
A small chuckle slips past Hanbin's lips and he rests the other hand on the broom as he replies back to the older man.
You
"I'll be there before you know it<3"
The next text he receives is not a text per se—it's a photo. A selfie of Hao in bed with the cutest pout in full display and the duvet he recognizes immediately casually thrown over his shoulders.
The fabric does nothing to cover, really. Hao can trace Hao's shoulders and collarbones, the smooth skin that he reveres like it's the only reason he lives for.
He gets another notification.
Haobao <3
"Miss you"
Hanbin takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he lets the intense emotions he feels for the man on the other side of the phone wash over him.
You
"You really are the prettiest."
"I'll be there in an hour, is that better?"
"And I miss you too <3"
Haobao <3
"10 minutes would be better but I will accept the hour offer"
"I'll wait"
"Hurry up"
After that, a string of hearts and kiss emojis comes through, and Hanbin can't do anything but beam and reciprocate with even more of them.
He places the phone back in its place and starts cleaning up with more motivation—with speedy hands on the broom and by taking care of all the dirty clothes and equipment. He tidies up the bottles of solvents under the sink and washes himself up in the shower.
It should horrify Hanbin how easily he cleans up, with gentle strokes and the most perfumed soaps he loves the scent of. He does not feel remorse nor the need to wash off his sins with gloomy feelings, scrubbing his skin clean until he gets to the flesh.
Hanbin feels peaceful.
He does even when patting down his raven black hair with a towel, looking at his reflection in the mirror. The sharp eyes staring back like pits of darkness, the soft nose reddened by the hot water, the pink lips that Hao has called pretty many times.
Hanbin is at peace because the evil is not—and if he's responsible for one less person tainting earth with cruelty, then he will also feel pride.
He hums fun and upbeat tunes in the car on the way to Hao, and he taps two fingers on the steering wheel while murmuring the words of the songs he knows.
When pulling outside Hao's residence, he finds the perfect parking spot and presses the button of the older man's apartment with a blinding smile on his face. The main door cracks open after a ding, and Hanbin climbs the stairs, eager to have Hao in his arms again.
The other is already waiting for him at the doorstep of his apartment, with chestnut brown hair peeking from the door frame and two hands gripping it.
"It's been one hour and a half, you liar." It's the first thing Hao tells him, and he chuckles when approaching him.
Hanbin apologizes immediately. "I know, I'm very sorry."
Hao's eyes are narrowed into two thin slits, carefully scanning Hanbin even when he gets in front of him. So close, he can already smell the sweet coconut scent that he is so fond of.
"You said one hour." He changes the weight to the other leg.
Hanbin nods, rueful and with what he knows are soft eyes on him. "I'm truly sorry hyung."
The other crosses his arms on his chest, sticking his nose in the air and with dark eyebrows drawn together. "You have a lot of begging to do, Hanbinie." Hao chortles, but he still leaves a big space at the door for Hanbin to come in. Hanbin closes the door behind him and follows Hao.
"I didn't expect to study for that long, but you know I have that really hard exam at the end of the month," which is not entirely false since Hanbin really has to put more effort into studying if he doesn't want to stay behind in his academics.
Hao is walking past all the furniture in his apartment, by the plants—even though he keeps complaining about not keeping them alive—and the TV that is turned on, playing some drama he thinks he recognizes.
"You could have told me it would have taken you long."
"I tried to, but you're—" The cold stare sent to him from Hao's bed is enough to make him pause and press his lips into a thin line. "I'm sorry."
He wants to smile at the little scoff, and he does end up chuckling a little when taking off his jacket and dropping it on the bed beside Hao, his arms close around the other's waist, and they both lie down on the soft and comfortable mattress.
"You're going to sulk some more?" He mumbles against Hao's naked arm, leaving one soft kiss.
Hao giggles into the sheets before showing more of his face to Hanbin, like a dream Hanbin has had more than once.
"I just missed you," Hao admits, blinking a few times and fixating his gaze on Hanbin's hair and then on his lips. He leans in to press their lips together, and their smiles meet in the middle.
"I missed you too, Hao," he replies sincerely, holding him more in his embrace. "I think I miss you all the time."
Hanbin is in a really good mood the next day. He has woken up in Hao's bed, surrounded by his warm arms, and gently pats his nicely scented hair to kiss him good morning.
They have breakfast together, Hao pushing Hanbin's arms away so that he can swoop nonchalantly on his lap and eat the hot soup Hanbin had prepared for both of them. Hao had spent half an hour snoring softly against Hanbin's chest and mumbling facts about fruit that are good for you, half asleep with his eyes closed while Hanbin scrolls to read the latest news on his phone.
It's idyllic, and it has Hanbin questioning his whole life. There is nothing he would rather do than stay with Hao and spend all the time with him. Know what his opinion is on the smallest things, imprint his fingertips on Hao to make sure he never forgets about him, and breathe the same breath as the older.
Hanbin is in a very good mood… until he isn't.
And it's all thanks to what he sees when getting out of class and walking with no rush to the cafeteria where he knows Hao is waiting for him.
When he steps inside the big hall, however, Hao is not alone. There is a man he has never seen before, not even by accident in the hallways of the building or at parties.
He's tall, with long legs and very loud red hair—Hanbin's right eye twitches just by looking at how close he is to Hao.
What he decides to do is casually drop by the pair talking by the emergency exit doors. He takes big strides and sides with Hao to assess the situation firsthand, but the stranger treats him as a mere ghost. Only nudging in his direction, not even bothering to keep up appearances and greet him.
Hao tentatively touches his back with one hand, a gesture that soothes the most twisted and dark parts of Hanbin.
"Just think about it, I would really like to take you out for dinner sometime." The blunt demand made by the red-haired man leaves Hanbin speechless, to say the least, even when he has just joined the conversation.
Hao looks uncomfortable—he can tell by the way he picks at the skin around a nail with two fingers and by how he keeps changing the weight of his body from one leg to the other.
It does not stop the stranger with small, close-set eyes in his mission. He touches Hao's arm with a hand and leaves it there while staring at him. "Really think about it, hyung."
Hyung?
Hanbin is sure this is the first time the two have even met, let alone exchanged sentences informally. Hao seems taken aback, but he politely nods. "Okay."
"That's all I needed to know—" he turns to Hanbin with indecisiveness, and his eyes must not communicate warmth by the quick turn he does with his body, not before giving Hao another "Think about it!" while scampering away.
"Wow, that was super weird." Hao whispers, lowering his head and glancing at the phone in his hand.
Hanbin gives a quick look and snorts with disgust at the bright screen where a big number and a contact name make their appearance. "You really exchanged numbers?"
Hao's cheeks fill with air, and then he exhales. "He told me he wanted my number for a project, and he knew almost all the people in my class, so I did after he introduced himself, but—"
Hanbin's jaw clicks painfully. "He clearly made you uncomfortable. How can someone be so fucking oblivious?"
"I will just let him down easy when I have the time to deal with it," Hao pouts, wrapping his arms around one of Hanbin's and cooing at him by kissing his cheek. "Are you jealous?"
He doesn't want to hide it at all. "Yes," he replies dryly, staring at Hao's eyes and trying to relax his tensed-up muscles.
"My cute Hanbinie has nothing to worry about; let's go eat lunch." But Hanbin does worry, and it becomes all he can think about for the next hours.
He begins outlining his plan that same night after he sees the scene. Hanbin's hands still prickle with jealousy, and its venom only spreads further in his heart, contaminating everything present along the way—eating him alive.
Hao doesn't seem to heed his behavior, mostly because Hanbin is a master at hiding it. He treats Hao just like always, with gentle kisses and feather-like caresses, because it is what Hao deserves.
The person ineligible for that treatment is the guy who tries to flirt with Hao, and he will do something about it.
So, when the chance presents itself, when Hanbin has his hands on Hao, carving his body in the way he loves doing, the plan unravels in front of his eyes.
Searching for Hao's phone is not a difficult task—it takes him only a few seconds to catch the black device with the pink cover on top of the bed. It's not even hard to unlock it since he knows the passcode by heart, and searching for the number he wants is even easier than all previous missions.
What's difficult is keeping up a pace that won't let Hao whine and complain when Hanbin slows down or takes his time to push into him.
But he has something to do, and he dials the number masterfully before throwing the phone by Hao's head, pretty brown strands of hair moving at the sudden object when his head tilts.
Hanbin brings his hand back on Hao's thigh, moving it to the perky ass in front of him again and gripping at the flesh when he thrusts inside Hao again, with more fervor.
The older man lets out a strangled moan, and his hips twitch to meet Hanbin's action. When the first beeping sound comes from the phone, only then does Hao wake up from the dazed trance of being fucked by Hanbin.
He gasps at the bright screen and the name that appears on it, and Hanbin has a front-row seat at the way his beautiful eyes widen in shock before turning to him.
"What are you doing?" he manages to blurt out with heavy breaths, shoulders tensing and back muscles flexing.
"Just calling your little friend for a chat. The one that wanted to take you out," Hanbin replies casually, pulling out of Hao for a moment to revel in the sight of the pink ring of muscles just waiting for him, wet from the unholy amount of lube he has used. "Remember?"
Hao's right hand flies to take hold of his phone, but Hanbin is way quicker and way too impatient. He grips the other's wrist quite firmly and twists the arm on the other's back before he slips inside Hao again—the lewdest of noises fills the room, mixed with Hao's desperate cries of pleasure.
"Hang up," Hao tries, but the words die in his throat at the relentless thrusts that Hanbin reserves just for him. "Hanbin, hang up right fucking now. You know I will do it anyways—"
"Hao hyung?"
A new voice comes muffled from the phone, some loud music playing in the background. "Hao, hello?"
"Don't be rude, answer him." Hanbin whispers in sweet tones, even when ruining Hao.
The man under him has the most deliciously flushed cheeks, one that can only be shown to Hanbin and the other pressed against the white sheets. "Yes, hi, Junho."
The pathetic stammering has Hanbin biting his bottom lip, satisfied to the bones by the repetitive little letters. Because of him.
"Do you need anything? Let me go outside to talk. I'm at a club right now."
Of course, the useless boy is out at clubs trying to score even after making his disgusting advances to Hao ten minutes into their first chat—fake smile on his lips while talking to the older, brushing fingers on Hao's arm and ruffling his hair in the way that made Hao uncomfortable.
Hanbin should do worse than what he's doing now, but he won't because he would rather die himself than deeply upset Hao.
The person in his thoughts tries to escape the hold Hanbin has on his wrist to grab the phone, but Hanbin shakes his head at the cute attempt.
It's marvelous how weak Hao gets when opening up to him like this—no strong resolve, no strength in him, just a cute doll that demands Hanbin to fuck him senseless and pleads him to give him more.
"Tell him you won't see him." He grits through his teeth.
"What's up, hyung? Is everything okay? Do you want to meet so we can talk better"?
Hanbin's hold only gets tighter around Hao's wrist, and the fingers of the other hand dig into the flesh of his ass, pulling and leaving red marks. "Tell him."
Hao's tongue peeks out to wet his swollen lips, and he finally speaks. "I can't—I don't think I will accept your offer."
"What?"
Hanbin sinks into Hao deeper, probably hitting the right spot when he feels the other's body quiver under his touch, long legs trembling at the strong thrust that jolts him forward.
"I don't—I don't want to go out with you." The shaky whimper that slips past his lips is just the cherry on top for Hanbin, really. "I'm sorry."
Hanbin frowns. Hao shouldn't be sorry at all. The man on the phone should thank God he even got a chance to talk to him in the first place, look at Hao up close, and receive a smile from him.
"What? Why? I thought—" The man clears his throat; the scraping of a lighter accompanies it. "I thought you were going to think about it, and it's only been a day. Take some more time, Hao. I can wait."
But Hanbin really can't. He groans impatiently and buries his cock even deeper in Hao, bathing in the shower of little mewl leaving the other's mouth.
"No—I'm just seeing someone else at the moment, and I don't think—I don't—I'm not interested."
Hanbin nods at the words like a madman. Hao is not interested in him, he will never be. Not when Hanbin treats him better than that scumbag ever will.
"Oh," the response on the phone is filled with disappointment, and Hanbin gloats. "It's okay, then. Don't worry, I understand."
"'m sorry," Hao hiccups, but it irks Hanbin again. The way he has to apologize for rejecting him, like it isn't his right to do it.
"Goodbye, hyung. And take care of yourself, you sound sick, so let me know if you need—"
Hanbin cuts the call by launching forward just enough to press on the red circle. After that, he lets Hao's wrist loose, but the arm doesn't move one bit.
"You're fucking crazy." It's the first thing Hao tells him when he lowers his head against the sheets to look at him with a bewildered stare.
Oh, you have no idea.
Hanbin chuckles and picks up his pace, both hands on Hao's body—touching and gripping and taking it all in, fired up by new motivation.
"He was rude and persistent, and you clearly have no intention of going out with him, am I wrong?" He asks, thin fingers of his right hand sprawled on Hao's lower back. The beautiful, beautiful curve of his back that bends slightly to take Hanbin's cock better. "Am I wrong?"
Hao seems at a loss for words. He huffs out some strangled whimpers and then, finally, shakes his head to agree with him. "No."
"I know." He goes faster and deeper, with strong motions that make Hao's legs almost give up, but Hanbin holds him by the waist to keep him steady. "You're too precious to give guys like him a chance."
Their moans find each other in the space between them—heavy and hot. Their eyes meet, and Hao looks just outwardly. Pretty, dilated pupils locking with his as his parted lips let out craving cries. "You're mine, hyung."
Then, Hao smiles. It's just one corner of his mouth, but Hao is smiling with twinkling eyes and shimmering sweat adorning his forehead, and Hanbin is sure he would do anything to keep Hao for himself and himself only.
"You're fucking crazy." Hao repeats, grinding his hips against Hanbin's cock and burying both hands into his brown hair, gripping at it. "God, you're crazy."
Hanbin can feel the orgasm that is about to hit him, and before he can even register Hao coming untouched on the covers of his bed, he's coming himself while deep inside the other.
"You will only ever be mine."
"Do you remember that one guy that gave me problems a few weeks ago?"
Hanbin fakes naivete and raises an eyebrow in confusion. It is unclear who Hao means specifically because there had not only been the bastard from the car accident but also the delusional asshole who asked him out. "Who?"
"Car guy, that obnoxious blond guy with his dumb blue car."
Ah, yes. Hanbin remembers.
He nods, turning another page of his book, although his attention has now decreased grandly.
"He disappeared."
Hanbin gulps and closes his book by pushing the sides of the hardcover together. "What do you mean?"
"Some articles are out saying he has disappeared for days, but they think he must have taken some cash and fled the country with some big drugs to sell."
Hanbin shakes his head. "Rich people."
Hao looks at him weirdly as he approaches Hanbin, falling gracefully on his legs and sitting on his lap to hook both arms around his shoulders.
"Do you believe that?"
Hanbin frowns as he takes Hao into his arms. "Why wouldn't I? He seemed like someone who abused drugs. Looked like a crazy bastard, too."
Hao hums lowly. "Feels like something is out there defending my honor." It's nothing but a small joke that is followed by a high-pitched giggle, and Hanbin chuckles too.
But it does feel like more, and it makes his insides twist with trepidation.
"Divine justice, probably." He comments, brushing a strand of honey brown hair out of Hao's face. He tucks it gently behind his ear and stares at the pretty painting in front of him.
Hao gives him an enigmatic smile—one he hasn't seen very often and one that excites him enough to make his blood boil. "Do you think it will keep protecting me?"
The air is grave with some sentiment that they seem to share—not for the first time since the start of their relationship but never with this intensity and understanding.
Does Hao know?
"I think nothing will ever happen to you as long as I'm here."
Hao's eyes move to his lips shortly, and they go back to looking into Hanbin's eyes. They read and communicate and keep Hanbin close to his soul.
"I'm okay with that." Hao nods, leaving a soft kiss on his lips and dipping his face in Hanbin's neck, gently caressing the skin with the cold tip of his nose.
Hanbin holds his entire existence in his arms and relaxes his whole body into the couch's cushions.
He will avenge death and kill with no compassion for Hao and for justice to have meaning again. Hanbin is just lucky the two purposes overlay perfectly.