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One hour left until midnight.
Hanbin chews on his lip as he sits on the living room couch in the group dorm. Beside him, Ricky and Gyuvin bicker like a married couple again while they play a racing game on the TV with Gunwook, who sits below them, legs splayed out on the carpet. Shouts and the rapid clicks of game controller buttons moving back and forth fill the room. The couch jostles with each cheer, each stomp in frustration, each slap on the shoulder. Despite the clamor around him, Hanbin can only think of one thing.
Hao.
Hanbin bought a birthday gift for him. Something special. Something meaningful. Something that, if all goes well, will hopefully convey all the feelings for him that cannot be expressed in words—a skill that normally comes quite easily to him. His heart bubbles in anticipation for the moment he will reveal it to him.
He could bring the box with him into Hao’s room well before midnight, but the indent of it in the pocket of his sweatpants would be too obvious. A hoodie or jacket pocket wouldn’t be suitable either—not necessarily because it would be seen, but rather because Hanbin doesn’t usually wear long sleeves in the dorm, especially not during the sweltering summer months. It would look too suspicious; he favors tank tops and bare skin, after all.
So, he will simply set a timer, and get the necklace when Hao is properly distracted in his room. Not exactly a foolproof plan, but he knows that he’d rather sell his kidney than miss the timing. Nevermind that he is obsessively checking the clock as is, anyway.
Time passes. His foot taps rapidly, almost rhythmically, on the floor. A sensation akin to pure adrenaline flows through his veins, making his nerves jumbled, yet alive with excitement.
Goosebumps rise on his skin; the hairs on the back of his neck stand erect. Turning his head, he sees Hao walking briskly to the center of the living room. He stands right in front of the coffee table, blocking the TV. His hair appears damp and disheveled like a lion’s mane, pushed back by the panda-themed spa headband sat atop his head. A dark gray t-shirt and cotton shorts hang loosely from his slender frame. He pulls out the pink toothbrush previously sticking out of his mouth and points it accusingly at the trio of gamers.
“Hao-hyung, move out the way—”
“I’m so close to beating Gyuvin—”
“I don’t care who’s beating who,” Hao says. “Can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to do my nighttime routine and will not be disturbed by your bickering.” He protrudes his lips for maximum effect, an action which makes Hanbin’s heart stop, but does little to nothing for the other boys beside him. If he squints his eyes, Hanbin can see the foamy, sky blue remnants of toothpaste sticking to his lips.
Gyuvin presses a button on his controller, pausing the game. An 8-bit jingle briefly rings from the TV. “Sorry, hyung,” he says. “I didn’t realize how loud they were.” He gives a not-so-subtle side eye to Ricky and Gunwook.
“They?” Ricky says with a frown. “Kim Qu-bing, you are included in this too, you know.”
“If anything, you were the loudest one,” Gunwook snickers while covering his mouth.
Hao’s pout grows deeper. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Just—please be mindful, okay? Can you do that for your favorite hyung?”
The trio nod, muttering words of apology.
Hao starts back to his room, toothbrush still dangling in hand. Body reacting before his mind, Hanbin shoots off the couch and strides over to Hao before he reaches his bedroom door. He grabs his free hand, stopping him in his tracks.
“Hao, are you about to go to sleep?” Hanbin asks, lowering his voice.
“After I freshen up, yeah. Why?”
“Don’t.”
The volume of the living room TV lowers around the corner; the clicks of the game controllers cease.
Hao’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. “Don’t? Why?”
Hanbin opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. This wasn’t part of the plan. Quick, improvise.
“Um… what if I just wanna talk?” He mentally facepalms.
“You just want… to talk.”
“Yeah,” he says with a bit more confidence powering his voice. “I just want to spend time with you.”
Hao’s nose scrunches as he studies Hanbin for a bit. Hanbin wants to shrink under his piercing gaze. After a moment, an easy smile makes its way onto Hao’s face. The tension melts from his shoulders, and, seeing this, Hanbin’s body also relaxes. “C’mon,” he says, cocking his head towards the direction of his room. He readjusts their hands so that he is the one leading Hanbin to the door.
As Hanbin takes one look back at the entrance to the living room, he sees Gunwook’s inquisitive eyes peering at them from around the corner. They make eye contact and, instead of being flustered or surprised, Gunwook simply gives him a knowing wink.
Hao steps into the doorway first. He takes a few long strides to his small, twin-sized bed. The mattress bounces as he plops down onto the gray sheets, one leg draped haphazardly off the edge. Hanbin follows suit, neatly sitting on the bed with criss-crossed legs. The bed creaks slightly under their weight.
“Bin-ah, you wanna talk?” Hao asks, a smirk beginning to curl his lips upward. “Let’s talk.”
***
Thirty minutes left until midnight.
The pair speak in hushed tones about any and everything under the sun. Every time Hao says something even remotely funny, a laugh never fails to escape Hanbin, as if Pavlovian. Nothing is off the table, from their home lives, to their ongoing album promotions, to the latest annoying thing the manager did, to their hopes and dreams for their future as a group—for their future together.
They sit close, their proximity almost certainly abnormal for anyone who would happen to walk in on them. Hao’s face is barely a hand’s length away from Hanbin’s. Hanbin can admire the many dark moles adorning his face up close this way; he can relish the way his eyes drip with fondness as he listens to him speak. On the soft bedding, their fingers rest together, lightly interlocked.
I wish I could stay here forever with you, just like this, Hanbin thinks. However, time is of the essence, and forever isn’t promised—at least not for tonight.
***
Hanbin checks the time on his phone.
Two minutes left until midnight. It’s time.
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Shh—it’s a secret,” Hanbin says. He fully grabs Hao’s hands and, as if he is holding a fragile flower, raises them up gently to his face.
“Alright, Bin-ah, but if this is another one of your tricks, I’m never forgiving you,” Hao says with a pout as he covers his eyes.
Hanbin breathes out a huff of amusement. “Please, you don’t even believe that.”
Before Hao can respond, Hanbin leaps off the bed and quickly says, “I’ll be right back!” as he hurries out the door.
He rushes across the hall to the room he shares with Taerae and gingerly opens the door. The room is pitch black, save for the dim light creeping into the room from the cracked door. Hanbin can make out Taerae’s fluffy hair peeking out from his blanket, can hear his soft snores fill the room. Turning on his phone’s flashlight, he carefully, yet swiftly, tiptoes across the wooden floor, making his way to his side of the room. He opens his bedside drawer, and lifts the mound of neatly folded shirts to grab a small, dark gray box with a bright red rose enclosed behind a glass frame. A thin navy ribbon wraps around each side of the box and is tied into a neat bow at the top. Perfect.
Hanbin skirts across the hallway back to Hao and Gunwook’s room. He unlocks his phone one more time before stepping in, glancing at the timer. Ten seconds left until midnight. Taking a deep breath, he re-enters the room, anticipation and nervousness bubbling in his stomach.
“Binnie? Is that you?” Hao asks, still sitting on the bed with his hands covering his eyes.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he responds, taking a seat back on the bed. His knees knock hollowly against Hao’s. He opens his phone. Three seconds.
Taking one last steadying breath, Hanbin says, “Okay, Hao, you can remove your hands now.”
Hao does so and blinks open his eyes to stare at Hanbin, a question dancing in those big, brown irises of his. Before Hao can react, Hanbin feels his lips soften into a warm smile, like ice cream melting on a sunny day, as he stares directly into Hao’s gaze and gingerly raises the gift up to his chest. “Happy birthday, Hao.”
Hao’s breath hitches in his throat. Hanbin revels in the way his eyes go wide, genuine surprise filling his gaze. He becomes a statue momentarily, lost in Hanbin’s eyes. Then, he glances down at the gift, and gasps softly.
“F-for me?” He asks, gaze flitting between Hanbin and the present.
Hanbin giggles fondly, warmth pooling in his chest. “Of course, who else would it be for?”
“Can I open it?” Hao asks, timidly taking the box in his hands.
Hanbin nods, the smile on his face growing impossibly wider.
Hao gently unwraps the navy ribbon and places it beside him. He seems to take a moment to admire the craftsmanship of the box, tracing his fingers along the smooth glass where the rose lays, eyes unblinking and trance-like. He marvels at it like an art critic. The atmosphere in the room goes quiet; it feels as if even the drop of a pin could be heard. His fingers travel downward until they find the miniature drawer in the bottom half of the box. He pulls it open, and the expression that dawns on his face rivals the most stunning sunrise. He appears stricken with an emotion Hanbin isn’t sure he can name.
“Oh Hanbin…”
He lifts the necklace up into the air, its silver chain balancing delicately on his fingers. On the end of the pendant are two small metal rings connected by a tiny sparkling diamond. The rings encircle a round moonstone the color of the sky. Its shades of blue morph and bend in the reflection of the harsh lights overhead, like the silhouettes of coral reefs under ocean waves. It shimmers brightly, but the shine of the metal dims in comparison to the gleam of Hao’s eyes as he gazes upon the most precious pearl in the sea.
“I don’t even know what to say. It’s beautiful.”
“It has meaning, too. Remember the bus? The word we taught each other, all those months ago?”
“Wait. Is this what I think it is?”
Hanbin simply nods.
Hao’s eyes are blown wide; they glisten with wetness. “Can you still say it in Chinese?”
Hanbin leans forward and rubs his nose gently against Hao’s. “Hǎitún,” he whispers against his lips.
A single tear cascades down Hao’s cheek. “You remembered.”
“I always do when it comes to you.”
Hao’s face scrunches together like a sheet of paper crumpled, and he begins to fully cry. He hangs his head down, shoulders quivering with sobs. His trembling hands lay in his lap, tightly gripping the necklace and holding it close. He appears smaller, more vulnerable this way. Hanbin is momentarily stunned.
“Hao, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
What sounds like a mix between a choke and a sob comes out of Hao’s throat, and he glances up at Hanbin with puffy, tear-stained eyes. “Okay?” he asks. Looking down at the necklace still woven around his fingers, he murmurs, “How can you just say things like that, and expect me to be alright?”
Hanbin chuckles. He lifts a hand and lovingly wipes away the tears that flow from Hao’s eyes like streams from a mountain. The remnants make his skin glisten. Hao stills, and sniffles as he watches Hanbin’s every careful move, every gentle swipe of his hand. Hanbin says nothing, but smiles, and waits for him to catch his bearings.
Hanbin drops his now wet hand, and it finds Hao’s easily; they intertwine like two lost souls meeting again. Their fingers tangle and bend easily to each other’s will, coming together in perfect harmony—a match made in heaven. The necklace rests securely in their mutual grip.
A sigh escapes from Hao’s mouth, and he begins to stroke Hanbin’s palm tenderly with his thumb. “I was pretty nervous back then, you know?”
“Hm?”
“The van. When they drove us to film that intro segment for Boys Planet.” His gaze drops down to their joined hands, and his lips curve into a fond smile. “Of course, I wanted to do well while filming my parts and making my introduction as the G group center. But that wasn’t the only reason why I was nervous.”
Hanbin feels his mouth tug upwards. “Safe bet I can guess why.”
Hao doesn’t look up. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”
Hanbin’s cheeks stretch into a full grin. His heartbeat feels faster, lighter; the tips of his ears begin to burn.
Noticing the silence, Hao finally glances up. Although his expression is unreadable, his eyes glimmer brightly as he peers at him. However, he can never hold a stare with Hanbin for too long, a cute habit Hanbin has noticed since that cold, fateful day in December. He averts his gaze again, cheeks becoming pink.
“You were so radiant,” Hao continues. “I wanted to get to know you more, back then. Both of us becoming centers and ending up in the same van that day was the perfect opportunity to do so. I was… too shy to strike up a real conversation with you before,” he admits, biting his lip.
For a moment, Hanbin sits, dazed. From the very moment Hao walked into the Star Level Test room with the rest of the Yuehua trainees, violin in hand and wide, intelligent eyes grazing over the audience of trainees, Hanbin was drawn to him. Even after they revealed to each other that they chose the other for the “Shiny Boys” visual pick, something that surprised yet thrilled Hanbin to no end, they never became closer beyond quick smiles and hurried greetings while passing each other in the hallways. However, Hanbin hungered for more. He never failed to look for him in a room; his heart would race every time he finally caught his eyes. Who knew that Hao was just as enamoured with him as he was from the very beginning?
Hanbin’s stare falters briefly, then he meets Hao’s gaze again. “What if I told you that I also wanted to talk to you properly back then, but never found the right time until the van?”
“Then I would tell you to try harder next time,” Hao says, stifling a smile.
“Communication goes both ways, Hao.”
He giggles. “I know. I’m glad we finally talked to each other during the van ride, though. It felt like… it was meant to be,” he says, eyes sparkling.
“Me too,” Hanbin replies, heart glowing. He isn’t sure how he appears right now, but he feels as if their current expressions are mirrors of each other. He smiles like a fool.
“Do you remember how long we talked?” Hao asks.
Hanbin laughs, light and airy. “Practically the entire time, to and back.”
“The driver was probably sick of us.”
“I’m sure we grew on him.”
Something compels Hanbin to spill more of his heart to Hao. His mouth feels like it has a mind of its own; the words escape from them before his brain has a chance to stop them. “I’ve never told you this before,” he says, looking down bashfully, “but not long after we taught each other ‘dolphin’ back then, I actually bought a Chinese book.”
Hao’s eyebrows raise. “What? Like, to learn?”
“Yeah. You’ve influenced me more than you realize.”
He regards him for a moment, eyes glittering. “That explains it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those times when I used to come in unannounced to your dorm room and you would quickly hide something away. I assumed it was a private diary or something, but no—you were studying this entire time. Studying for me.”
Hanbin’s ears burn. “Ah, when you put it that way, it’s kind of embar—”
“No,” Hao interrupts. “It’s cute.” His hands, still wrapped around Hanbin’s, squeeze tighter, more firm. “And it’s touching. One of the things I admired most about you then, and still do now, is how willing you are to learn more about me and my culture. Not everyone does that. I don’t think I’ve ever told you just how much that means to me.” His lip quivers, and his eyes begin to water. “Thank you for taking the time to learn at least a little bit of my language, just as I have yours.”
Hanbin feels a tightness in his throat, as if a stone somehow became lodged there. The familiar warm rush of wetness clouds his eyesight. He fights back tears. It dawns on him then just how important this moment is for the both of them. Hao has been open with him before, but this is unlike anything he has ever witnessed. Something special seems to permeate the air around them.
He removes one of his hands to tenderly cup Hao’s cheek. “I’ll always love all parts of you, you know that.” He moves his hand down to the necklace wrapped in their grasp.
“Speaking of Chinese,” Hanbin continues, “Look at the necklace again—I have another surprise for you there.”
Hao’s mouth parts slightly open. “Really?” He grabs the necklace and looks more closely at the moonstone pendant, twirling it around with his fingertips. After a moment of staring, he looks back up at Hanbin with a frown. “I don’t see anything, though.”
“Because you’re looking in the wrong place,” Hanbin says. He gently tugs and shifts the chain of the necklace so that the clip sits in Hao’s fingers. “Look here.”
Hao leans forward and peers at the small, silver clip. On the very end hangs a small, cylindrical metal plate with miniature Chinese characters engraved in them. There are four of them, which read: yù hé yǒu yuán. A chance meeting destined by fate. In other words, the perfect representation of their relationship. Hanbin may have spent countless nights scouring the internet for the perfect romantic four-character idioms in Mandarin, and may have also talked Ricky’s ear off about said phrases for self-proclaimed “scientific purposes,” but Hao didn’t need to know that. Instead, he simply hopes that his dedicated research and care has paid off.
At first, Hao simply stares at the engraving, moist lips trembling ever so slightly. Then, as if blown by a strong gust of wind, he throws himself into Hanbin’s arms, almost knocking him back with his force. His body shakes, and the sounds of quiet sobs fill the air. More than a few sodden tears drop onto Hanbin’s bare shoulder, but he doesn’t mind. He merely holds Hao, arms securely wrapped around his abdomen, and lightly pats his back in comfort.
After an indiscernible period of time, Hao removes his head from its home on Hanbin’s shoulder and looks him square in the eye. His eyes are reddened, yet glisten like a lake at night. The remaining tears on his face shine like diamonds. Raw emotion sharpens his gaze, and pierces Hanbin right in the heart. Hao looks at him intensely, as if he is trying to commit every facet of his face to memory, as if he is trying to freeze time with his gaze alone.
A wet smile makes its way onto Hao’s face. He chuckles, face scrunching adorably.
“I don’t think I’m going to be with anyone else other than you. You’re my one and only, Hanbin. Is that a crazy thing to say?”
Hanbin’s breath hitches in his throat.
“Not if I feel the exact same way.”
For a moment, it seems as if everything in the air suspends in time. Then, everything crumbles away as their mouths crash together, noses almost bumping together as they do so. Hao’s slippery lips taste of salt, still drenched with tears and spit, but Hanbin doesn’t mind. Their lips perform the dance reserved for only them, as they have countless times prior to this moment, but something feels different. The air around them feels charged with white-hot electricity. Butterflies roar in Hanbin’s stomach, his heartbeat increasing tenfold as Hao kisses him with all the passion in the world, red as pomegranates. He rests his hands on Hanbin’s chest, gripping the soft cotton of his tank top almost desperately. All thoughts vanish from Hanbin’s mind as if an apparition, replaced with the faint smell of baby powder, the sound of Hao’s faint moans, and the now mildly damp strands of hair tickling Hanbin’s fingertips as he caresses Hao’s soft cheek.
Hanbin feels as if his chest will burst with love. Love. This is what this is. He knows he has loved Hao for a long time now, but all other days seem to dim in comparison to this very moment, having Hao in his arms, kissing him like he will perish otherwise.
Hanbin parts first to catch his breath, resting his nose lightly against Hao’s. He feels Hao’s heavy breaths fan his lips, and can see the way his ribcage gasps for air. He glances up, and the dark, drunken look in Hao’s eyes almost stops his heart all together. Their hands find each other easily again.
“Bin-ah,” Hao whispers delicately against his lips, “this is the most thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. I need you to know that.”
“Gege, you deserve it. I thought hard about what to get you, you know?” A fire blazes behind Hanbin’s eyes and engulfs his heart as he continues, “And what better gift to give you than one that symbolizes us?”
“Don’t make me cry again,” Hao whines, averting his eyes as tears already begin to form in them. Despite this, a grin slowly appears on his face. The more it widens, the more Hanbin feels warmth spread within his body.
Hao sits back and holds the necklace up. “Can you put it on for me?”
“Of course,” Hanbin replies, softly scooping the necklace from his hands.
Hao turns around on the bed and lowers his head slightly, exposing his long, slender neck. Hanbin pauses for a moment to take in the situation. He feels as if he is in a trance, as if he would wake up soon and find out that this was all merely a dream. He quickly pinches himself on the arm, just in case. Nothing changes except for the sudden appearance of mild pain where he gripped his skin. So, this is real life after all.
He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then finally lifts his arms over Hao’s head and draws them back so that the necklace chain lays around Hao’s neck. He secures it gently, and taps Hao’s back lightly to let him know that he is finished.
Hao turns back around and surges forward, surprising Hanbin with another sweet kiss. After he gets over the shock, Hanbin closes his eyes, drinking in the watery sensation of Hao’s lips on his. When Hao pulls back, his expression is ethereal, almost blissful. His cheeks are still moist from earlier, so Hanbin raises a hand to wipe away the wetness. Hao leans into the touch, gazing up at him with besotted eyes.
“Now I can wear your love for me wherever I go.”
***
One hour after midnight, Hao and Hanbin lay entangled in each other’s arms on Hao’s twin bed. It is dark in the room, save for the pale moonlight illuminating the thin silver curtains which shield the pair from the outside world. The sounds of soft kisses and faint whispers fill the space around them. Whispers of hope, of love, of the future. Hanbin’s gift sits proudly on Hao’s collarbone, cuddled protectively between them. The thin comforter which covers them is warm, but not as warm as the feeling of Hao pressed against him, cold hands roaming his body. He is grateful that he told Gunwook to sleep in his and Taerae’s room for the night.
All in all, Hanbin feels as if he has been made whole.
During a brief lapse in their makeout session, Hao raises a finger to Hanbin’s lips before he can lean in for another kiss. “Bin-ah?”
“Yeah?”
He draws his hand back and lowers it to the necklace, delicately tracing the ocean blue pendant with his fingertips. It twinkles under the reflection of the moonlight. Love dances in his gaze.
“You make me believe in soulmates.”