Chapter Text
“...and it’s like, wow, sexy, you know? I always forget what I’m saying anyway because he leans in all close and stares at my lips and all of the thoughts just fly right out of my head. He’s the perfect man, I’m telling you. I think he’s staying over again tonight too.”
“Wow,” Hanbin says, nodding in what he hopes is an encouraging manner, “that’s great. I’m glad you’re happy.”
Matthew grins. “Thanks.”
“I never thought I’d hear about you dating someone, but I guess this guy is special.”
“Oh,” Matthew says, wrinkling his nose, “we’re not dating. It’s just— I don’t know, having fun.” Before Hanbin can process that, Matthew continues. “Speaking of fun, hyung wants to go to a party this weekend. You know, like, a party. He said he just wants to show me off, but you should totally come. You could even meet someone for your own fun. Kinky fun.” Here Matthew wiggles his eyebrows, as if Hanbin might have somehow missed the implication.
Hanbin sighs. This weekend he’d mostly been planning to mope, which Matthew knows. He’d probably planned out this whole conversation just to lead up to the party invite. “I don’t know.”
“Hyung,” Matthew whines.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into anything so soon after…”
If he’d been hoping for Matthew to soften at the reminder of his recent breakup, that was clearly just wishful thinking. “It’s been weeks,” Matthew says bluntly. “You don’t have to find some guy to marry, but you should let loose a little.”
If it were anyone else asking, Hanbin might have found it in himself to say no. But then Matthew grabs his hand and smiles again, and Hanbin is terribly weak for any pretty boy who tries to push him around, even the sweet dongsaeng that Hanbin really wishes would share just a tiny bit less about his kinky sexual adventures in casual conversation.
With defeat in his voice, he asks, “Is there a dress code?” and manages a chuckle at Matthew’s ensuing victorious whoop.
/
The party is located in a multi-bedroom apartment with high-end fixtures and more white furniture than Hanbin would ever be comfortable living around.
“One of hyung’s friends is rich,” Matthew explains as they walk in. “This is actually him living way below his means. Kind of a sore subject, though, so don’t bring it up.”
Hanbin nods. Don’t bring it up. Easy. He very intentionally stops fiddling with his outfit — a windbreaker he’ll take off in a moment covering a semi-sheer black shirt and tight jeans. He has to fight the urge to keep adjusting it, and he knows wandering around in just the top will be an exercise in confidence. Matthew had called him crazy hot earlier as they were getting dressed, and Matthew’s roommate Haruto had helped him with a haphazard smoky eye, so he’s hoping the other attendees are dressed similarly. Hanbin likes to stand out (he wouldn’t be a dancer or a Gemini if he didn’t), but he’s not exactly looking to stand out for the wrong reasons, even if Matthew keeps reassuring him that tonight is going to be amazing.
They step in to see a small crowd, and Matthew immediately runs over to Jiwoong. They make out. Intensely.
Hanbin sighs a rueful laugh and strips out of his windbreaker, putting it in a pile with the other jackets and cover-ups as he takes off his shoes. As Matthew promised, it’s all men tonight, and Hanbin is relieved to recognize some of the people who are not actively engaging in a liplock at the moment.
Yoon Jongwoo, former dance team captain, saunters over with a grin. His leather vest shifts a little as he walks. “Sung Hanbin! We weren’t sure you’d come.”
“I had to see what all the fuss was about.”
“You can never resist a party for long.”
Hanbin grins, still rueful. “Caught me there.”
“You nervous?” Jongwoo asks. “First time, right? And no offense to him, but Matthew doesn’t seem like he’s going to be much help from here on out.”
Matthew is still kissing Jiwoong. Hanbin, unfortunately, agrees with Jongwoo’s perspective on that one. “I’m a little nervous,” he says, and then adds, cutely, “but less so now that hyung is here.”
“Nice try, but I’m not playing tonight.”
That coaxes a laugh from Hanbin. He relaxes a little, following Jongwoo further into the living room. “That’s fine. I’m not sure I will either.” He doesn’t add that the primary reason behind that is a fear of publicly making a fool of himself. Not saying it doesn’t mean that Jongwoo can’t guess, but it makes Hanbin feel a little better to pretend it’s just a preference.
Jongwoo shows him over to the bracelet table anyway, where thin corded bracelets in different colors sit in helpfully labeled bins. A printed sheet reads: We have newbies tonight! Be nice, and take your dicks to a private room (NOT the main bedroom, that one is locked) if you’re doing anything sexual. Someone has added some particularly obscene remarks underneath with a red pen. Hanbin laughs, and feels Jongwoo laughing next to him.
A distant part of himself wants to freeze once the moment comes to actually choose a bracelet, but Hanbin forces himself to push through, and he picks up a dainty pale green one to signal Open to playing, submissive.
“This is fine,” he says to himself. “This is normal. I’m so calm.”
Jongwoo laughs. “You’ll get used to it, I promise. No one here will judge.”
Hanbin nods tightly.
Jongwoo’s hand comes to squeeze his shoulder. “I mean it. Anyone gives you trouble, just let me know.”
“Okay, hyung. Thank you.”
“Now let’s go mingle, yeah?”
Hanbin nods again, this time slightly less tensely, and lets himself be led into the fray.
/
“Don’t look now,” Jongwoo says about thirty minutes later, “but Hao has been staring at you since you walked in.”
Hanbin rolls the name around in his head until he comes up with a match. Hao. Zhang Hao. The one with the sharp eyes and the pretty hands. “In an interested way?”
“No,” Jongwoo deadpans, “in a way where he’s looking to kick your ass. Yes, obviously in an interested way. He’s cool. I can vouch for him.”
“Should I go over?” At Jongwoo’s unimpressed look, Hanbin steels himself. “I’ll go say hi,” he tries again, more decisively, and Jongwoo nods.
It’s nice to get his approval, but that does mean that Hanbin needs to follow through on that promise and find Zhang Hao.
He turns out to be in the kitchen, chatting happily with Keita and a tall, blonde boy Hanbin doesn’t recognize. They all look intimidatingly gorgeous in their own all-black getups and delicate jewelry, and Hanbin almost chickens out then and there until Keita looks up and brightens.
“Hanbin-ah! We thought Matthew would never get you out to one of these.”
All of their eyes are on Hanbin after that. Keita looks nothing but friendly. The one Hanbin doesn’t recognize has a blank expression, almost unimpressed, and Hanbin resists the urge to apologize for intruding. And Zhang Hao just cocks an eyebrow. If it isn’t just Hanbin overthinking things, it looks like he’s pressing down the suggestion of a smile.
“Ah,” Hanbin says, trying not to flutter his hands around nervously, “yeah, I’ve just been busy with work.”
“Work?” asks Zhang Hao.
“I’m a dancer.”
Zhang Hao hums. “That must be intense.”
“A little, yeah. Mostly it’s fun.”
Keita laughs. “Don’t worry about him, hyung. If our Hanbinie doesn’t overwork himself every single day he’ll wither and die.”
Hanbin feels his ears go hot.
The sound of a voice from the main room calls out for someone named Ricky! before he has to summon a rejoinder. The blonde man looks up and nods to them as he exits the room.
“I should go see what everyone’s up to,” Keita says, and hugs them both before exiting the kitchen.
Hanbin is about to do the same — make an awkward excuse, retreat to safer territory — when Zhang Hao asks, quietly, “Is this your first party?”
Hanbin’s ears must go even redder at that, but he manages a bashful grin. “That obvious?”
“Keita implied as much earlier,” he says, and follows that up with, “but yes, a little.”
When he smiles at Hanbin’s embarrassed half-whine, Hanbin almost loses his breath. He really is pretty. And he’s wearing a delicate corded bracelet indicating that he’s a dom and he’s open to playing, and it’s making something flip in Hanbin’s stomach like the top of the rollercoaster, right before the drop. Hanbin has no reason to expect that Zhang Hao will want to try anything, especially now that he knows Hanbin is a newbie, but Jongwoo had said he was staring, and Hanbin is tired of holding himself back.
He scratches the back of his head. “Not your first, though, I’m guessing?”
“Not quite.”
“Do you usually have fun at them?”
Zhang Hao nods. “They’re fun, yeah. And it’s nice to catch up with friends. But I like meeting new faces too.”
“And, um. Do you ever…?”
“Play?” Zhang Hao prompts. Hanbin nods quickly. “Sometimes, if someone catches my eye. Or if I catch theirs.”
“Jongwoo-hyung said you noticed me when I walked in,” Hanbin replies impulsively.
Zhang Hao’s ears pinken, but his expression doesn’t collapse in on itself the way Hanbin’s own does when he’s feeling embarrassed. “I did notice you.”
Hanbin’s heart feels like it’s pounding in his chest. He can practically taste the race of his own pulse. Under the nerves, he finds that he doesn’t necessarily mind the adrenaline; it reminds him of being onstage, and despite the weirdness of it the analogy brings him enough comfort to make an offer without crumbling on the spot. “Would you want to play at all tonight? With me?”
“Nothing serious for your first party,” Zhang Hao says, “not without discussing more, but you can kneel for me if you want.”
“Oh,” Hanbin breathes.
Zhang Hao smiles again. This one is smaller, quieter, the round half-curve of a moon. “Sound okay?”
“I’ve never— I’m really new. I might not do a good job.”
“You might not do a good job at kneeling quietly on the floor next to me? Are you planning on acting out?”
“No,” Hanbin says quickly, “no, of course not.”
Zhang Hao takes a step closer to him. His smile sharpens a little when he sees Hanbin swallow. “You’re cute, Hanbin-ssi.”
“Just Hanbin, please.”
“Hanbin,” Zhang Hao repeats. Hanbin has never dropped formalities with anyone so fast in his life. “It’s okay if you’re too nervous. You don’t have to rush yourself.”
Hanbin takes a moment to sit with the offer. Very quickly, he realizes that the only thing holding him back is the general sense of nervousness that comes with doing something new for the first time. Every other part of him wants. He wants to kneel quietly. He wants to experience the rush of embracing a part of himself he’s hidden for so long. And he wants to do what he came here to do: get out of his own head and have some fun, no matter how scary it might be to push at his own boundaries.
“I’d like to,” he says. “Do what you suggested, I mean.”
Zhang Hao reaches over, telegraphing his movements, and lands a hand in Hanbin’s hair when Hanbin doesn’t protest. He ruffles it around, smiling to himself as he destroys the work Hanbin had put into getting it to lie flat for once.
“There,” he says, once Hanbin’s bangs are an unsalvageable mess. “Go take a minute to fix your hair and then come find me in the main room if you still want to. I’ll sit on the couch and you can kneel right at my side. Okay?”
It’s a relief to have a task. Hanbin agrees readily and sets off to find a mirror.
/
With his hair meticulously fixed and fixed and then fixed again, Hanbin decides he’s ready to go, and he approaches the living room slowly, trying not to look too eager or too nervous. It’s silly to worry about what the others will think of him, anyway — he personally knows about half of the guests already, and by this point the crowd in the living room has dwindled to just ten or so people, including Matthew where he’s still perched cheerfully on Jiwoong’s lap. Keita, Jongwoo, and Kuanjui are talking to a couple of people Hanbin recognizes from earlier, one of whom seems to be demonstrating wrist ties on another, and Zhang Hao is, as he promised, sitting to one side on an empty couch.
Matthew brightens when Hanbin walks in. “Hyung! Are you having fun?”
“Yeah, I am,” Hanbin says.
Matthew grins. “I told you,” he replies, and he sounds so genuinely thrilled that Hanbin can’t begrudge him the smug edge to his tone. “You just had to be yourself!”
That encouragement is the last boost Hanbin needs to make his way over to the couch.
Each step feels like it takes a million years, but when he gets to the arm of the couch, looking down at Zhang Hao, it feels like he somehow teleported over here, ears hot and anticipation all coiled up in his chest. There’s a pillow on the ground.
Zhang Hao doesn’t react until Hanbin has finished sinking to his knees, and even then he only says, “Comfortable?”
Hanbin nods, though he’s not sure it’s true. He’s not physically uncomfortable, but he’s feeling awkward in his skin, not sure where to put his hands. Should they be folded in his lap? Palms up? Behind his back? Maybe he’s doing this wrong. His gaze is fixed on the floor.
“Can I touch you?” Zhang Hao asks next, and Hanbin nods more eagerly.
A warm palm cups the curve of Hanbin’s shoulder, squeezes once, and then migrates to rest lightly over the nape of his neck. Hanbin immediately relaxes into it.
They stay like that for a few moments, just long enough that the tension in Hanbin’s shoulders starts to ease. Zhang Hao hasn’t said anything, which must be a good thing, right? At the very least, Matthew would probably speak up if Hanbin were embarrassing himself right now.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Zhang Hao nodding to someone, and Kuanjui and Jongwoo both come over. Hanbin tenses at the incoming attention, but Zhang Hao squeezes his neck gently and Hanbin remembers that his task is just to be quiet and still. He can do that.
“You move fast,” Jongwoo says from somewhere to his left.
Zhang Hao chuckles. “Not really.”
Kuanjui laughs too. “Hao knows what he wants. And it’s not his fault our Hanbinie is so pretty.”
Hanbin has always been easy for praise, but it lights up his brain even further when he’s in a vulnerable position like this, and it makes him want to duck his head and shy away from it just to stop himself from asking for more.
“Did you need something?” Zhang Hao asks mildly.
Jongwoo’s answer is genial. “Just checking up on him.”
“It’s been sixty seconds,” Zhang Hao answers, “generously,” but he doesn’t sound like he’s bothered, and a few moments later Jongwoo is kneeling in front of Hanbin with a soft smile.
“Hey,” he says, every bit the warm presence Hanbin knows and appreciates, “doing all right?”
“You can answer,” Zhang Hao tells Hanbin.
Hanbin was about to reply without a second thought, but he almost chokes on his tongue at the implication that Zhang Hao might want control of— that someday he might— “I’m good,” Hanbin manages to spit out. “Thanks, hyung.”
Jongwoo ruffles his hair, laughing when Hanbin scrunches his face up in displeasure at having to fix it later, again. “Good. You need anything, just shout.”
Zhang Hao sighs again, sounding amused. “Or he can tell me directly. But I already told him we’re not doing anything intense tonight. And it’s bad etiquette to intrude on a scene, which I know you know.”
“You love my bad etiquette,” Jongwoo retorts.
“I really don’t.”
“You used to.”
“Bye, Jongwoo-yah,” Zhang Hao says. Hanbin can hear the smile in his voice. As Jongwoo steps away, Zhang Hao’s hand starts moving again, now coming up to scratch lightly at the hair at Hanbin’s nape. It’s a gentle touch, and it sends pleasant shivers down Hanbin’s spine. “Sorry about him,” Zhang Hao says, quietly, just to Hanbin. “He’s nosy.”
Hanbin resists the urge to shake his head, and is rewarded by more soothing touches. “It’s okay. He knew I was nervous.”
Zhang Hao hums. “And now? Still nervous?”
“Yeah,” Hanbin admits. “But not as much as before. This is nice.”
“We can stay like this,” Zhang Hao says, “or I can give you a little more.”
Hanbin licks his lips reflexively. “What would a little more entail?”
“I could tell you how good you’re being for me, for example. Or I could give you some tasks or instructions. Something to make it slightly harder. Nothing scary, I promise, I know you’re already putting a lot of trust in me.”
Something in Hanbin’s stomach leaps at the idea of praise like a fish on a hook. “Um,” he says, and tries to force the words out. The first thing, he imagines saying, or you could tell me— but even just that is a frightening step.
Come on, Hanbin, pull yourself together.
He ends up abandoning that request. For now, he manages to say, “I could do a task. Something for you. If you wanted me to.”
“Because you’d enjoy doing something for me?”
“Yes,” Hanbin says, still quiet but more confident now. Giving himself over to instruction has always been a talent of his. It’s always a relief to get it right, to complete the task, to tie the knot and walk away from it. Hanbin is good at working hard and listening well.
Zhang Hao laughs, low. “Cute.”
Hanbin keeps his hands in his lap.
“We’ll start easy,” Zhang Hao says. “Would you go get me a glass of water from the kitchen? Don’t spill, and don’t get distracted.”
It’s so easy Hanbin almost chafes at the kid gloves, but he recognizes that Zhang Hao is trying not to overwhelm him. “Okay,” he says.
Standing feels like it takes longer than usual, like his limbs are moving through liquid, but eventually he leverages himself upright and makes his way to the kitchen.
The crowd is still fairly thin over here, and it’s a clear line to the fridge. Hanbin is careful with his motions. He takes a glass out of the cupboard. He takes the water pitcher out and pours the glass most of the way full, and then stops and stares at it. Should he add a little more? Should he pour some out? Zhang Hao had said not to spill, but Hanbin isn’t worried about carrying a glass across a room. Unless he should be? The overthinking spirals faster than he’d expected it to.
Hanbin is supposed to be good at this. He’s on easy mode. Anxiety keeps threatening to make his hands tremble. He stares at the glass like it’s going to run away from him.
“Hanbin-ah,” comes Zhang Hao’s voice from the other room, “everything okay?”
“Yes!” he calls back immediately.
The check-in grounds him enough to put the pitcher away and take the glass in his hand. It’s cool against his skin, which helps, and he laughs at himself a little for being so silly.
It’s a glass of water, Hanbin-ah. You’re fine. You’re bringing it over to the really hot dom who’s taking you under his wing tonight, and then you’re going to kneel back down and things will be out of your hands again.
It’s amazing how quickly he’d gotten attached to sitting at Zhang Hao’s feet. He nudges himself out of the kitchen and back to the couch, where Zhang Hao is waiting with a small smile on his face, between fond and amused, like he finds Hanbin— cute, he’d said. He radiates easy confidence.
He takes the glass Hanbin hands him and takes a long sip, eyes shut and throat working. “Ah,” he sighs when he’s done, exaggerating with a wink in Hanbin’s direction, “I was thirsty.”
The goofiness startles a giggle out of Hanbin, and Zhang Hao grins at him. “It’s okay?” Hanbin can’t stop himself from asking.
Zhang Hao’s expression softens. “Yes, thank you.” He nods towards the pillow where Hanbin was kneeling before, and Hanbin sinks back down to his knees, head tipping forward a little when Zhang Hao’s hand finds his shoulder again.
“I wasn’t sure how full to make it,” Hanbin admits.
“Perfectionist, huh?”
Hanbin smiles sheepishly. “Very much, yeah.”
“You did well.”
The rest of the tension slips from Hanbin’s jaw, and a warm glow takes its place. “Okay. Good.”
“Up for more?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” Zhang Hao says, “hands behind your back.”
Hanbin pulls both arms behind his back, grabbing his left wrist with his right hand. He ducks his head lower, not wanting to catch anyone else’s eyes, and Zhang Hao doesn’t instruct him otherwise. The hand on his shoulder starts tracing back and forth from left to right, nails scratching lightly against the t-shirt where it rests over Hanbin’s upper back. It’s so immediately soothing that he has to snap his eyes open, focusing on maintaining his posture and not just melting into the touch.
“Is this okay?” Zhang Hao asks.
“It’s nice,” Hanbin whispers.
“Can I blindfold you?”
Hanbin breathes out through his nose, combating the shock of arousal the question sends through him. “You— yeah, you can.”
Zhang Hao’s answering smile immediately lights up Hanbin’s insides. It takes a moment for Zhang Hao to acquire the blindfold, which came out of a drawer somewhere and looks like a fancy eye mask, all black. “It matches your outfit,” Zhang Hao notes.
Hanbin ducks his head and lets Zhang Hao put it over his eyes. Immediately, the world goes quiet. With his hands behind his back and his vision taken away, all Hanbin can do is listen, but the sound is coming through fuzzy, distant. Already he feels some part of himself sinking into the feeling.
“Good. Stay just like this and count to one hundred in your head for me. One for each breath in and one for each breath out. Let me know when you’re done.”
“Okay,” Hanbin says. He can do that.
By the count of forty, he’s found a blissful flow, feeling more relaxed than he has in— Hanbin doesn’t even know how long. Months, maybe. His whole world has narrowed down to the task at hand and the nails still scratching gently over his back. It’s meditative to track his breaths like this. To slow them down. He can feel his clothes on his body and the hand on him and the occasional tickle of his hair on his forehead when the air conditioning hits it just right and rustles it around.
There are conversations happening around him, he knows. He can hear Zhang Hao’s voice right above him, Matthew’s bright laugh, Jongwoo’s low grumble. But he’s not tracking any of them, really. He’s here and not here. He’s focused, and it’s such a relief to feel any amount of quiet in his own head that he finds himself clinging to it.
Part of him is tempted to lose count by the time he gets up to ninety, just to keep feeling this way, but Hanbin doesn’t want to lie.
“One hundred,” he says when he gets there.
“I’m taking the blindfold off now,” Zhang Hao warns, and pulls it off of Hanbin’s eyes, giggling when Hanbin blinks against the light.
Hanbin takes a moment to collect himself before gazing up at Zhang Hao.
Zhang Hao is already looking at him, that same light still dancing in his eyes. “Good boy.”
Oh, Hanbin thinks, pressing his lips together against whatever expression is trying to break free. His face feels hot again.
Zhang Hao nods to himself, looking satisfied. “I thought you’d like that.”
“Hyung,” Hanbin whines.
Zhang Hao tweaks his ear fondly. “Are you complaining?”
Hanbin shakes his head quickly, and a gentle silence settles, just for long enough that he starts feeling pressure in his knees, the threat of an ache that hasn’t quite been realized yet.
“I have to leave in a bit,” Zhang Hao tells him, “so we can stay like this for just a little longer, and then we can talk before I have to go, okay?”
Hanbin nods. “That sounds good.” He’s a little nervous about what they’ll talk about, but he’s heard enough of Matthew’s stories and deep-dived enough guilty times online to know debriefing is generally recommended even for lighter scenes when you’re with a new scene partner, and Zhang Hao seems like the conscientious type.
“Sorry,” Zhang Hao says unexpectedly, “I know logistics aren’t very sexy.”
“I think they can be,” Hanbin answers.
Zhang Hao says something under his breath, too quiet for Hanbin to hear, and then, “All right. Shake your arms out. Sore? Okay?”
Hanbin releases his wrist and stretches. “I’m good. I’m flexible,” he adds, “like, more than most people,” and then covers his face with one of his hands. “Because of dance. I mean, in bed too, but. I didn’t mean to imply, um—”
Zhang Hao snorts an inelegant laugh. “You can imply if you want.”
“Okay, then I am very flexible in both fun and non-fun ways.”
“Sexy,” Zhang Hao deadpans.
Hanbin groans again, but he’s laughing too. He doesn’t understand how this back and forth can feel so comfortable, especially considering he’s still on his knees and he only met Zhang Hao tonight, but he can’t deny the ease of this conversation. Zhang Hao feels more like someone Hanbin has known for years than a stranger. How have they overlapped socially so much and never met before this?
But some part of Hanbin is grateful, too. If they’d met earlier, he’s not sure he’d have had the guts at all to ask for this. To get him a glass of water, to breathe at his feet. To let himself flush and bloom like a flower at kind words.
“Hyung,” Hanbin says, feeling himself leaning back into that soft place he’d gone when he was counting, “can I rest my head on your leg?”
“Of course,” Zhang Hao says, nodding. “Come here, rest in a more comfortable position.”
He’s guided to shift to the side, far enough that his butt is on the floor now, pressure on his knees releasing and blood flowing back through the previously constricted veins. It’s a little sore, and the relief is welcome. Hanbin pillows his head on Zhang Hao’s narrow thigh, letting his cheek squish out in the way he’s usually self-conscious of, and shuts his eyes.
Time goes mushy after that. He doesn’t fall all the way asleep — or at least he thinks he doesn’t — but the seconds pass in drips and drops, external input hazy and his brain quiet.
At one point he hears someone say, “I’ve never seen him this relaxed,” and then a low chuckle in response from someone else, and he almost surfaces before he feels someone trace his hairline gently from his forehead down to his jaw and he lets his attention spin back out into softness.
A month ago, Hanbin’s boyfriend was breaking up with him for being So fucking high strung all the time, seriously, it’s exhausting. Hanbin works hard and worries. Hanbin reaches for goals so lofty other people wouldn’t even bother aiming for them. It makes sense that he wasn’t compatible with a partner who found the edge of Hanbin’s ambition miserable, but that doesn’t mean Hanbin didn’t take it personally. He’s always felt like he’s too much.
Here and now, Hanbin can’t even access that worry. He’s contained.
Eventually, though, the calm has to break.
“Hanbin-ah.”
It takes him a moment to realize he’s being addressed. “Hm?”
“You wanna come back up for me?”
“Mm,” he says.
A quiet laugh. He feels the leg under him tense and then untense. “Did you fall asleep?”
Hanbin pouts and makes a dissenting noise.
A squeeze to his shoulder, and then a gentle pat on the arm. “Open your eyes, then.”
Hanbin peels his eyes open. It takes a moment for the room around him to come back into focus. Above him, Zhang Hao’s expression is patient and amused, and when he smiles Hanbin smiles back.
“How are you feeling?”
Hanbin takes stock. “Good,” he says. He blinks a few more times. “My legs are a little…” he makes a vague sound, still processing, “but I feel really good, honestly. Thank you for taking care of me, hyung.”
The very tips of Zhang Hao’s ears go endearingly pink. “Thank you for letting me.”
“Did you, um. Did you still want to talk?” Hanbin feels terribly shy asking. There’s a vulnerable little pit in his stomach that tries to chastise him for opening his mouth, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Kuanjui hugging people, initiating goodbyes. Had they come together? Hanbin isn’t sure. “Or if you have to go, that’s fine too, no worries.”
Zhang Hao grabs his hand and tugs him up. “Really quick,” he promises, cutesy now.
Hanbin blinks, startled, and jumps up onto his feet before he topples over. He follows as he’s dragged into a bedroom, which appears to have been undisturbed over the course of the night.
It’s quiet in here, especially when the door clicks shut behind them.
“How are you feeling?” Zhang Hao asks again, and this time Hanbin feels a bit more present.
“Good. Um, a little embarrassed, maybe?”
“Embarrassed because it was your first time subbing? Or another reason?”
Hearing it said so plainly makes Hanbin’s ears go hot. “Just because it was my first time, I think. And it was kind of public.”
“Yeah, parties like this can feel kind of, hm… exposing?”
“Right.”
“But you did it!” Zhang Hao’s eyes are warm when he smiles. “And you were lovely. You did everything I asked you to.”
“You didn’t ask me to do anything difficult.”
Zhang Hao pauses and looks Hanbin over assessingly, tilting his head to one side. “I can’t tell if you’re actually this humble, or if you’re fishing for more praise.”
Hanbin splutters. “No— I don’t— it’s not—”
“Cute,” Zhang Hao coos. “Okay, I’m going to give you my number. Call me tonight if you start feeling weird. Or message me. You can message me even if you’re not feeling weird.”
Is Hanbin being hit on? It’s been a while since anyone who knew his name flirted with him. He holds his phone out when Zhang Hao makes a grabby hand for it and watches him key his number into the contacts.
“Weird how?” he thinks to ask. “Like I’m regretting it?”
“Hmm, it’s a little different for everyone. We didn’t do anything super physical, so it probably would be emotional. If you start feeling really ashamed, or worried. If you wonder if I think you did well — which I do, and I can remind you if you need. I’m not trying to scare you! It’s more likely you’ll get home and go to sleep and be completely fine. But you took to submission really well. It might leave your head spinning, that’s all.”
Hanbin nods, taking that in. “No, that makes sense. You’re very thorough.”
“I try to be. There are a lot of assholes out there, okay? It might seem like I’m doing too much, but I hope you expect this level of diligence from anyone you play with. Don’t settle.”
“I’ll try to remember.”
“Good.” Zhang Hao checks on him one last time before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hopefully I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah,” Hanbin agrees, dazed, smiling. “Hopefully.”
/
Hanbin had expected to go home and process the night on his own, but Matthew follows him out of the taxi with his usually cheerful smile. “Sleepover,” Matthew explains, “obviously, what kind of friend do you think I am?”
Hanbin tends to be an early riser even on his days off and Matthew is a relentless, unrepentant snorer, but Hanbin’s always been terrible at saying no to him. And anyway, there’s a part of him still feeling vulnerable enough to be grateful for the company. “Of course,” he replies. “Silly me.”
Matthew hums happily to himself as they walk inside and kick off their shoes.
“Hungry? Thirsty?” Hanbin asks.
“Do you have anything sweet?”
Not really, is the answer, so they knock heads looking at Hanbin’s phone and order milkshakes for delivery.
Hanbin had been hesitant considering the late time, but Matthew opted to steamroll him as usual. “It’s healthy! Like, good brain chemicals and stuff. I always have them after parties or any time I hang out with hyung and it always helps, trust me.”
Matthew chatters about his own night while they wait for delivery, detailing just how much time he’d spent perched on Jiwoong’s thighs talking to other people and then launching into a story about how he really wanted to suck Jiwoong off but decided not to so he could keep an eye on Hanbin instead. It’s simultaneously very sweet and very crass. Hanbin has known Matthew long enough to find the balance not at all surprising.
The milkshakes arrive, and they sit cross-legged on Hanbin’s living room floor, between the small couch and the smaller coffee table. Hanbin takes a sip of the cold drink and makes a happy noise, tipping his head back against the couch.
“I told you,” Matthew says, drinking his own shake too.
Hanbin just laughs. They spend some time like that, drinking and sitting on the floor with their shoulders pressed together and backs against the foot of the couch. They stick to idle gossip at first: who came with who, Keita’s new job, Jongwoo’s apparent history with Zhang Hao. It’s fun. It’s easy.
After they finish their drinks, though, Matthew shifts around so he’s lying on the floor with his head in Hanbin’s lap, and he looks up with sparkly eyes as he asks, “So what was tonight like for you? Did you have fun?”
“Of course I had fun.”
Matthew grins. “Good.”
“Can I ask,” Hanbin starts, and gets shy for a moment before pressing through with the question, “what did I look like from the outside? Was it weird?”
Matthew gasps in immediate offense, wiggling around so his face is half-smushed into Hanbin’s stomach. “Weird!? Hyung, no way, don’t even think that. You looked really cool! And peaceful. It was nice to see you like that. You’re always so stressed out.”
Hanbin laughs. “It was nice to feel like that,” he admits. “It’s… I know that was pretty light.”
“Oh yeah, you should hear the way hyung makes me scream sometimes.”
“I’d rather not,” Hanbin says delicately.
Matthew just grins, unrepentant. “I mean, yeah, Hao-hyung was going easy on you, but you were nervous for your first time subbing for someone. And you’re not someone who has a really easy time letting go of control anyway. So it probably felt like a lot, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So it’s fine!”
Matthew’s cheerful demeanor chips away at Hanbin’s anxieties. “So it’s fine,” he echoes.
“Right, unless you’re like, dropping.”
Hanbin doesn’t think he’s dropping. He wouldn’t necessarily know what that feels like, but from everything he’s read — and, he recalls, from Zhang Hao’s gentle but firm warnings as he’d left the party earlier — he can’t imagine it would feel like this. Hanbin feels cozy, happy, and a little clingy. That’s all pretty normal for him, even if it’s amplified tonight.
“I’m not,” he says, more confident than he feels. “Are, um. How are you feeling?”
Matthew’s answering giggle is high in pitch, and he rests his head on Hanbin’s shoulder. “I’m amazing. Did I mention Jiwoon-hyung is super sexy?”
“Once or twice,” Hanbin teases.
“Don’t forget,” Matthew responds, and then he nuzzles closer, letting Hanbin thread an arm around his shoulder, and it’s like it was during university, before Hanbin’s enlistment, when things were simpler. It’s not so different now, Hanbin reflects. They’re still best friends. They’d still bury bodies for each other. Hanbin would still let Matthew drag him into all kinds of trouble, and Matthew would let Hanbin drag them both back out.
They stay like that for a long time. Eventually, though, Hanbin untangles himself from Matthew for long enough to brush his teeth and haphazardly splash some water on his face, and then he falls asleep on the couch and dreams of everything he did with Zhang Hao, and a lot more.
/
He wakes up to a message: Hanbin-ah! Are you free this morning?
Hanbin is not awake enough to answer immediately, but he is awake enough for last night’s events to all come rushing back into his mind at once. He makes an aborted little noise, trying not to wake Matthew, and then tries to wrestle himself back to a place of feeling cool and collected. I’m free, he sends back. It’s only been a few minutes since Zhang Hao texted. What did you have in mind?
Breakfast! Zhang Hao responds. He adds a cute sticker, and Hanbin smiles and sends back his own.
Sounds good. Just tell me when and where.
/
“You can call me Hao-hyung,” is what Hanbin is met with when he sits down at the table in the crowded, recently-opened cafe. “Or just Hao, whatever. I don’t care about that stuff. It’s only fair anyway, if I’ll be calling you Hanbin.”
Zhang Hao — Hao, Hanbin corrects in his head — is windswept and pretty today, glasses perched on his nose and tidy sweater in contrast to his look the night before, which had been sleek and mostly black but just as put together. He’s drinking an iced coffee with caramel and each time he picks it up and puts it down it seems to have his full attention, each movement careful and slow.
“Okay, Hao-hyung,” Hanbin replies with a smile.
They exchange some more pleasantries, but Hanbin’s pastry hasn’t even arrived at the table when Hao offers, rather bluntly, “I wanted to ask what you’re doing next weekend. I’ve been thinking about domming you more — maybe some light impact play, even tying you up — and figured I would see if you’re interested first.”
Hanbin immediately feels better about the sheer amount of embarrassing, hyper-fixated, horny dreaming he’s been doing about Hao in the last 12 hours.
“I’m interested,” he says quickly. He’s aware they’re still in public, ears heating.
Hao grins. “I hoped so. We shouldn’t jump straight to bondage — oh, don’t make that face, I’m being responsible — but I bet we can find some other things to get up to together. How’s Friday night? Or do you work?”
“I teach a class on Saturday mornings but I’m free Sunday, so Saturday night would be better for me.”
“Great, let’s do that. Dinner first? Or strictly business?” Hao waggles his eyebrows at the word business, as if Hanbin hadn’t already picked up on the innuendo.
Hanbin imagines a miniature Matthew in his head reminding him he needs to get over his ex. “Dinner would be great. Would you like me to bring something?”
They hash out logistics, opting instead to go to a restaurant (Hao promises to make reservations) and then head back to Hao’s after that. Hao reminds him to bring comfortable clothes to sleep in, and not to plan anything too early the next day. “You slip into a submissive headspace really easily,” he tells Hanbin, as if it’s a normal conversation topic in a cafe. “Which isn’t a bad thing at all, but I want to keep a close eye on you after.”
Hanbin doesn’t know whether or not he’s embarrassed by the observation. “Okay.”
“Great,” Hao says, clapping his hands together. “I need to get to an event, but you can message me if you need anything.” Hanbin doesn’t know what he’d need from Hao. He endeavors to find an excuse anyway.
“Have fun.” Maybe someday Hanbin will be getting invited to Hao’s events, and can sit in the crowd and cheer for him. It’s all too easy to go into daydreaming mode. Hanbin, a serial monogamist, gets lonely without a hand to hold.
He makes loose plans to go bother Gyuvin at his apartment tonight and demand some cuddles, and tries not to be any more forward than he already has been — even if Hao seems to be returning it at just the same level.
/
The week passes more slowly than Hanbin could have imagined. He teaches his classes and gets distracted partway through running a combination because he’s in his head fixating on the particular angles of Hao’s cupid bow and the veins on his hands.
He messages Hao that evening, alone in his tiny apartment and despairing at the one-track mind he now has: How is your week going? ^^
Hao replies quickly. Busy as always. Looking forward to letting off some steam this weekend. A cute boy told me he’d let me boss him around.
He follows that up with a gif of an animated sun sparkling in the sky with a bright smile.
Hanbin buries his face in his hands and screams silently.
Sounds fun, Hanbin replies. ㅎㅎ. I’m looking forward to it too! Can’t wait actually!!
He stares at the extra exclamation point on his last sentence. Does it make him seem deranged? Hao had expressed excitement first, after all, but as the minutes pass without another reply he starts to get nervous. Eventually, Hao just sends a heart back, and Hanbin frowns as his own anxiety kicks up.
Impulsively, he calls Matthew.
“Hanbin-hyung!”
“Hey.”
“What’s up?” His side of the line is noisy. He must be out right now.
Hanbin grimaces. “Is this an okay time to talk? Sorry, you sound busy.”
“It’s a great time,” Matthew assures him. Hanbin listens as Matthew says something quietly to whoever he’s with, and then as the landscape of filtered noise shifts until it’s much quieter. “I came outside, I’m set. Are you good, man?”
“How do you know Jiwoong isn’t going to lose interest in you?” Hanbin asks in a rush.
Silence. It only takes a few seconds for Hanbin to realize that question probably wasn’t very well considered given his audience.
“Sorry, I just— I’m asking for a friend. The friend is me, and said friend is thinking about Zhang Hao.”
“Are you guys gonna keep scening together?” Matthew asks.
“I think so. We’re seeing each other Saturday. He said he wanted to tie me up but that we shouldn’t do that yet.” He whispers the last sentence, but can’t hide his petulance.
Matthew laughs. “He’s right, hyung. Like, okay, unless you know yourself super well, you probably shouldn’t go to hardcore bondage straight away with someone you don’t know. But even with someone who’s… vetted, I guess, by your friends, he doesn’t know your limits yet. I’m not sure you even know your limits yet. And sometimes when I do stuff that’s super intense, I just like. Forget Korean. You probably wouldn’t, but it’s hard to communicate anyway when you’re in outer space like that. It’s good to wait.”
“No, you’re right.”
“You guys could have sex, though!”
Hanbin sighs.
Matthew continues, exuberant now that he’s on the topic. “That’s how Jiwoong and I eased in. We kind of traded off between escalating kink stuff and sex stuff. It worked perfectly.”
Hanbin cannot imagine Matthew and Jiwoong have ever eased in to anything. Still, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in sleeping with Hao. He’d take a makeout session, even. A kiss.
“You’re thinking dirty thoughts,” Matthew teases. “Ah, Hanbin-hyung is all grown up.”
“I am older than you,” Hanbin grouses, but they both know Matthew doesn’t care, and Hanbin doesn’t really either. “I guess,” he allows, once Matthew is done giggling, “I just worry that he’ll want to be with someone more experienced. Especially if we have to wait to try stuff because I have to go so slowly.”
“You’re a total catch, dude.”
Am I? Hanbin wants to ask. He shakes the thought away as best he can. “I don’t want him to get bored. That’s all.”
“Well,” Matthew says, “from what I hear, Hao-hyung is like, super selective about who he plays with. Him wanting to see you again within a week is practically unheard of. I wouldn’t worry about boring him. He wouldn’t have reached out if he didn’t like you.”
Hanbin knew this already, but it helps to hear it out loud. “Right. And it’s fine that I’m new to this world.”
“Super fine,” Matthew agrees. “Plus, some doms are into that, so if it gets him hot that’s actually a bonus.”
Hanbin exhales, feeling his shoulders drop as he smiles. Matthew is always Matthew. “Thanks, Seokmae. I think I just needed to freak out at someone for a minute.”
“What are best friends for?”
“You know I always have your back too.”
“Duh,” Matthew says. “And anyway, I don’t know Jiwoong is going to stay interested in me. Just saying. But he hasn’t gotten sick of me yet, and if he does then I don’t think he’d be mean about it.”
Hanbin’s heart squeezes in his chest, sympathy temporarily outweighing his usual fond frustration at Matthew’s inability to let himself be vulnerable with Jiwoong, who is his boyfriend in everything but name. “We can’t predict the future. But I think he really likes you.”
“Okay, okay. Anything else, hyung?”
“That’s all. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Byeeee,” Matthew sings into the phone, and then he hangs up.
When Hanbin looks at his screen, he’s received another text from Hao: Let me know if you need help picking your outfit for Friday ;) Hanbinie is so handsome, he must have a lot of options to choose from.
So maybe he didn’t need to worry about playing it cool after all.