Chapter Text
As Zhang Hao looks around his room at the remnants of yet another failed long-term relationship, remnants that seem taken directly from a “good gifts for your partner” listicle that he can absolutely see his ex looking up on Naver, he realizes it’s time to make a change.
He is no longer going to waste his time on men whose presence in his life amounts to a few polaroids, a necklace, a mug, and a t-shirt. He is going on strike until further notice. No dating. No sex. He will take a sabbatical and focus on his family, his friends, and his thriving career as a violin instructor.
He grabs his least favorite totebag (navy, no print, boring) and makes quick work of throwing in everything Hyunwoo ever gave him before bounding down the stairs. He hears the blender whirring as he rounds the hallway corner into the kitchen, and isn’t surprised to come across Ricky’s best friend Matthew concocting something revolting in their kitchen.
“Ricky, bro, seriously, the raw chicken is what makes it good– oh! Heyyy Zhang Hao!” Matthew pulls him into a quick, bracing hug, the only kind Matthew knows how to give. Ricky gives him a small nod of greeting. “How are you doing? I heard about the breakup, man. Brutal. You need anything?”
“Yes, actually,” Hao replies, pleased with how he deftly responds in English despite the fact that his rapidfire stream-of-consciousness monologue for the past few hours has been entirely in Chinese. He takes a moment to really feel pride in himself for it. Sure, English might be his second language, a language that he’s spoken for the majority of his life, but how many people in the world are trilingual? Not that many, Hao thinks. Maybe he should respond to Matthew in Korean, just to really remind himself how exceptional he is– Korean, the toughest, because he didn’t even have the benefit of learning it as a child. (But then he remembers that Matthew consistently refers to their house as an “English Oasis,” a safe haven where he can speak freely without having to translate in his head, and decides against it.) He gestures to the bag in his hand, and tilts his head at Ricky. “Disposing of the remnants.”
“On it,” Ricky says immediately, reaching out to take the bag from Hao with the appropriate amount of disgust on his face, like he’s being forced to pick up a bag of dog shit.
“Not really much to even sell,” Hao adds, with an appropriate air of dismissiveness. “One year with him, and that’s all I have to show for it. But that doesn’t matter now. This is never going to happen again, because,” he pauses for emphasis, “I’m done with dating. I’m focusing on myself.”
“Yeah man, that’s the spirit!” Matthew claps him on the back. “Know your worth, the right guy will come along when you’re not even looking for him.”
“No, that’s it exactly. I’m not looking,” Hao says emphatically. “If the right guy came along I wouldn’t even know because of how much I’m not looking.”
“Totally,” Matthew agrees, giving him a wink. “Totally get you. This is the time someone else looks for you. You know I have guys I’ve been dying to set you up with. You just haven’t been single since I’ve known you! Isn’t that crazy?”
“Mashu,” Hao says, heaving one of his heaviest sighs. “You know you’re like family. So as I would say to Ricky, please respect my wishes.”
“Awww,” Matthew says, a bright smile crossing his face. “Bro! That’s so nice.”
“You’re serious about this?” Ricky asks, raising an eyebrow. “Like, seriously?”
“Yes,” Hao says. His voice is resolute. Firm. “One year minimum.” Ricky visibly fights back a laugh; Matthew just smiles. Hao feels rage start to bubble up inside him, the way he always does when he can tell he’s being underestimated. “What? You don’t think I can do it?”
“It’s just hard to picture,” Ricky says, with a non-committal half shrug. “You haven’t been single for that long since, uh….” He pauses for a second. “Oh. Never.”
“Ricky,” Hao says plainly. “I didn’t have my first boyfriend until I was 14. I had 14 years of being single.”
“Sure, that counts.”
“And then there was that period after Seowon, before Hyunwoo,” Hao adds.
“No, that was like 4 months–”
“--Where I was basically emotionally not in a relationship with Seowon for the last 9 months of that relationship. So that’s a break of over a year too. Also, I’m stubborn,” Hao concludes briskly. “Spite alone will propel me onward.” He realizes he’s been standing up for far too long, and pulls out a stool from the kitchen island and climbs up onto it. “Even if I haven’t done it before, I will now. And you know what? You should be nice to me. Because surely you realize what this means for you. With our mother.”
Ricky looks stricken. His brother is known for being taciturn; the last time Hao saw him react with such obvious horror was the last time they went back to LA, when he found out Urban Decay was discontinuing his favorite eyeliner. Hao had seen him go through the five stages of grief in real time, ending with him listlessly wandering around a mall in Culver City. “No. You haven’t told her yet, have you? Because there’s still time to change your mind. There’s actually so much time to change your mind. You need to change your mind.” With each sentence, he comes a little closer to the marble kitchen counter that separates him from Hao. By the end of it, he has his palms flat on the counter.
“I have taken this bullet for you for 26 years,” Hao says, reaching out a hand to gently pat Ricky’s arm. “As the loving brother that I am. But now that I’m on sabbatical, it’s your turn.”
“Am I missing something?” Matthew asks, cocking his head to one side. Hao gestures at Ricky to explain.
Ricky sighs heavily. “Alright. So… you know how our mom is like… really accepting? Well. The thing is. People, including you, probably think that’s great. And it is great, of course. It’s objectively great. But it also means we don’t get a lot of privacy with our love lives. She just. Loves having two gay sons. I never even came out to her, she just, like, assumed– don’t say it. The point is–”
“The point is, our mother loves both drama and making sure her sons find love,” Hao finishes. “And for 26 years, I have kept her fed with the drama of my love life, which I have been happy to do because I am a doting son, and it makes her happy. And I have respected Ricky not being in a place where he wanted to date.”
“Which is still true!” Ricky says, tone pleading. “I’m just so socially awkward and hard to love. This has brought a great pain upon me, as my low self-esteem has been laid bare for others to see. To mock. To belittle.” He widens his eyes, and puts his chin into his hands.
“Nice try,” Hao says, very sweetly. Ricky’s face immediately reverts back to normal. “I’m going to call her and tell her right now about this update.”
“No, don’t-”
“Mama, hello, how are you,” Hao says in English, for Matthew’s benefit. “Just a real quick heads up for you. I’m no longer going to date. I’m taking a year off from dating. Minimum. Yeah. Yeah. Exactly. Mhm. Ugh, you’re the best, I knew you’d understand. No, no mama, as I said, I’m not really open to that right now, but... Exactly. Mhm. What’s the guy’s name? Now that’s a great idea. I’m sure he’d love that. Yes! Send me his Instagram when you have a moment. Okay. Love you too. Bye.” He clicks off his phone.
“‘I’m sure he’d love that,’” Ricky repeats icily. “What have you done.”
Hao’s phone chimes; he quickly opens it and clicks into the Instagram profile his mother has sent through. “Apparently, she had already had someone in mind for my rebound. And now, she has someone in mind for you to take to your birthday party.” He bites back a laugh as he scrolls through the profile. “Wow, he has a really unique sense of style.” He hands his phone to Ricky.
“No, no, no,” Ricky groans, and clutches the phone to his chest like he’s a dying soldier in a war movie. “Gege, please,” he tries, weakly. “I don’t want to go out with this guy.”
Matthew finally abandons his blender in the sink as a lost cause and trots over to Ricky, plucking the phone from his hand and taking a look. A look of bemusement crosses his face, and he pinches Ricky’s side. “Aw, don’t be like that. He’s cute! What do you not like?”
“Matthew,” Ricky says, voice very even, “please look at these pictures again. And this time, imagine me on a date with this person. Imagine that guy, wearing that,” He points to the image containing Taerae’s red hoodie/red hat combo, “on a date with me, wearing this.” He gestures to his own leather jacket and crisp white dress shirt. “Think about the aesthetics. Think about the clashing. That’s not even getting into what our professional couple photos would look like–”
“Come on, I’m sure he wouldn’t wear that for a professional couples photoshoot,” Matthew says.
“I want to note that the fact that you’re referencing the concept of professional couple photos in the first place indicates just how ready you are for this,” Hao adds, very seriously. Ricky flicks him off.
“I will say, you might need to teach him how to take a good photo,” Matthew concedes, flipping the phone around and enlarging the second most recent photo. “Like, why is this one so blurry? The rest in this post aren’t that bad. Weird that he made it the first photo.”
“See, that settles it. I can’t have a boyfriend who doesn’t know how to take a good photo of me. That’ll be, like, a big part of his duties as my boyfriend. Oh, god, he has a whole highlight devoted to just cars– oh, Hao-hyung, she’s texting you again.”
Hao takes the phone back from Matthew and opens his chat with his mother. “Ah. Apparently she met him at that car show she went to a few weeks back. Started chatting with him as soon as she realized he was gay, which apparently was so obvious.”
“Cars,” Ricky says flatly. “Cars and bad fashion.”
“Apparently he plays acoustic guitar at church.”
“Oh, that makes sense, there’s a lot of guitar videos on here,” Matthew says, continuing to scroll.
“Cars and bad fashion and acoustic guitar at church,” Ricky repeats listlessly.
“Ricky, my guy, you have a giant angel tattoo. That’s at least a little religious.”
“Sure, but it’s aesthetic, Matthew. It’s sexy. Playing acoustic guitar at church isn’t sexy or aesthetic. Do you really think this guy is my type?”
“Was Brandon my type?” Hao counters. “Or Yichen? Or that guy who spent our entire first date talking about NFTs?”
“Guys,” Matthew says, cutting off whatever rebuttal Ricky had opened his mouth to say. “Not to overstep, but like… have you thought about maybe just… telling her you don’t like her meddling in your love lives?” Hao immediately feels a sense of revulsion. He sees Ricky looking at Matthew like he’s just grown three heads. “Okay, okay! Sorry! Just a suggestion. You’re right. This totally works too.”
Hao’s phone chimes again, an alert he set to remind him he has to get changed to leave for his first lesson of the day in roughly an hour. “I gotta go. Please don’t put raw chicken in a blender and drink it.” He pets Ricky’s head affectionately, and then Matthew’s in turn. Matthew looks like a happy golden retriever when he receives his. Ricky shares no such expression. “Aw, don’t make that face. Think of how good you’ll feel knowing you’re sacrificing your happiness for mine.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Ricky says grumpily. Hao hops off the stool and gives them both a cheery wave, before retreating from the kitchen.
As he climbs the stairs back to his room, he can faintly hear Matthew saying that he has a great idea that’s going to solve all of Ricky’s problems, which piques his curiosity enough to almost have him doubling back. But no, he has to stay on course. The first rule of his new era is to not get bogged down by distractions.
–
Sung Hanbin sits in his office, staring at his re-organized desk with a sense of pride. He imagines this is what birds must feel, when they bring back the final piece of straw to make a perfect nest, knowing that the structure is finally sound enough to hold their children. He ponders a birds’ nest he saw a few weeks ago; on first glance it wasn’t anything special, made of straw and twigs and grass, but upon closer look Hanbin noticed an inexplicable blue feather sticking out of it. Hanbin couldn’t envision any structural purpose for such a beautiful addition, so figured it was decorative. The final touch, made by a particularly ingenious bird.
He reaches into his totebag, remembering that he had indeed envisioned having this exact thought pattern when he left his house this morning, and had stuffed a snow globe featuring cherry blossoms that he’d bought from a gift shop in Osaka a few years back. He carefully places it under his computer monitor, and bam. Complete.
He loves days like today, where he doesn’t have to do anything but get his life in order, retreating back into the comfort of organization when he’s feeling at a loose end. Hanbin doesn’t do great without structure, and, as a dance instructor and small business owner, he doesn’t have a predictable 9-5 schedule with consistent days off. There will always be an extra class that his boss wants him to cover at the last minute, and Hanbin accepts the requests nine times out of ten. If he’s going to take over the studio within the next five years, it’s important for him to be amenable, to prove himself as reliable and dedicated.
His small professional boyfriend business, Hanbin Connect, gives him even less structure, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
As someone unused to having things just fall in his lap without hard work, becoming a professional boyfriend was unexpected. It happened like this: a family friend of Hanbin’s had begged him to be her date to her brother’s graduation, forlornly discussing an auntie’s incessant gossiping. Hanbin reluctantly agreed, his dismay for deception losing out against her passionate pleas, and the evening had gone swimmingly. Within minutes of meeting him, the gossiping auntie had been rendered speechless, fawning over Hanbin’s face and smile and kind eyes and subsequently asking for permission to take a photo of him to send to her daughters (a request that Hanbin was, of course, more than happy to oblige). Her father, the only member of her family not immediately won over within the first sixty seconds, was swayed after Hanbin casually struck up a conversation with him about baseball before the graduation began. He’d ended the evening by planting the seeds for an amicable breakup down the line (he was interested in going to graduate school abroad, sadly) and the effusive gratitude of his friend. The jubilation he felt at having succeeded eclipsed even the worst thing about the entire experience (having to memorize facts about baseball), and left him buoyant and self-satisfied. In his diary that night, he’d reflected on the experience from start to finish and cheered himself on for taking a step outside of his comfort zone. He realized he’d even be open to doing it again, should the unlikely opportunity arise.
And then it did, through the typical grapevine way. His family friend told a friend, that friend told a cousin, that cousin told a neighbor who had both a controlling mother and a wedding to attend. And just like that, Hanbin had client #2.
After that, it happened like nesting dolls. One spawned another, and another, and another. There were more weddings and graduations, and then birthdays and anniversary parties. After two months, he had done six one-off fake boyfriend events. Not huge numbers, by any means, but definitely showed there was a market for his services, services he was starting to see as actual services, and not just favors for friends and friends-of-friends. The amount of work he was putting in far surpassed a mere favor. Moreover, when he wrote out all the costs he incurred for the six one-offs (e.g. suit rentals, transit, hours of research eating away at his free time) and weighed them against the compensation he was receiving for it (none, except for the free food, drinks, and knowledge that he’d made someone happy) he realized what he was doing wasn’t sustainable. He had two choices. He could either take himself off the fake dating market, or legitimize his service into a real, sustainable, second job.
In the end, it wasn’t really a choice. The extra income would help him achieve his eventual goal of owning his dance studio, and, for Hanbin, nothing was more important than that. And why not do something that, at least so far, was easy and fun, that he clearly had a gift for? He took pride in how much work he had done for his six clients so far. He deserved to be compensated appropriately.
He began to write out a business model. Firstly, he decided to only offer his services for one-off engagements. While there was undoubtedly a market for longer-term fake relationships, he just couldn’t see it working well in practice without getting complicated. More crucially, it would severely limit the amount of clients he could see on a monthly basis, lest he get an unsavory reputation. After he felt confident in that decision, he created a fee structure that corresponded with the services offered, detailing the amount of hours he would be spending on each aspect of his service.
From there, he attacked the second most pressing issue: privacy. Obviously, professional boyfriend services would need to be discreet. To that end, he created a password-protected website for his intake form, and decided his primary method of promotion would be through word-of-mouth. He additionally created a new Instagram account, also private– access would be granted upon the client signing the agreement. It felt smart, for realism, for him to have an Instagram account that he could share with clients. And it would crucially allow them access to a bank of photos should any prying relatives doubt the existence of their very real boyfriend prior to meeting him in the flesh. He populated it with photos that gave off the exact vibe he was going for: kind, polite, respectable, dependable.
(His photographer was Park Gunwook, one of his dance students, who offered to take the photos for free when Hanbin confided in him what he needed them for. Gunwook’s motivations were simple; he was fascinated by the concept of a professional boyfriend and wanted to know more. A month later, Hanbin had as many photos as he could possibly want of himself holding bouquets of flowers, riding bikes, cutely but delicately biting into croissants. And he had an intern.)
It was thrilling to see his business go from ad hoc to legitimate, like the transformation of a pencil sketch into a work of art. Every day, more of his business model got filled in, and it provided him the same sense of comfort and security that he gets from creating his monthly budgets and organizing his desk. As much as Hanbin is trying to be more spontaneous and carefree, he knows himself. And to know himself is to know he is fundamentally incapable of starting any sort of new adventure without seriously interrogating what his end goal is and how he feels about it.
How did he feel about this? What was his end goal? Sure, Hanbin was money motivated like any other man whose long-term career goal was the chaotic, unpredictable world of dance studio management. But there were certainly easier, less complicated ways to make money. Why was he choosing this way? What did he want to accomplish with this particular professional endeavor?
The answer came to him at his mother’s cafe. It hit him like lightning. He felt alive. Suddenly, it all made complete sense. He had found the missing piece that had prevented him from fully understanding what he was doing.
He pulled out his notebook and began neatly and clearly outlining his business ethos, his mother bemusedly shaking her head and bringing him tea after tea. He still comes back to the pages, sometimes, when he’s dealing with a particularly difficult case or is feeling demoralized. The words ground him and remind him of his goal, remind him of his why.
-
People rarely seek fake boyfriends in a vacuum. In order to provide a holistic service, it is necessary to first understand why the client needs a professional boyfriend in the first place. It is necessary to look into what interpersonal dynamics are at play that make honesty feel impossible for her. Since many clients engage the services of Hanbin Connect to make their parents or other relatives happy, taking time to understand their family dynamic is very important before doing anything else for the client. Of course, this will involve more work…
But it will also involve more reward :)
-
After that, everything made sense. And then the work could begin. It was beautiful, really, to see how his professional boyfriend service could change lives for the better. And as the weeks and months passed, he saw the fruits of his efforts.
It isn’t always that his client ends up telling the truth to her family, but it also isn’t never. In the lead up to and aftermath of the one-off event, he has plenty of time to interrogate a family structure and uncover communication issues. And while he cares for all his clients equally, he does harbor a special fondness for the ones who have ended the experience by standing up to their controlling parents, or coming out as a lesbian, or expressing their own lack of interest in having a long-term romantic partner. Those are the cases he loves.
He knows his clients love it too. They might not always be ready to realize the only way out is through, but most of them get there. And while they are not necessarily always aware of this underlying goal of Hanbin’s, he doesn’t view himself as dishonest. It’s right there in the fine print of the MOU he has all clients sign upon him taking their case (drafted by Gunwook):
Services include but are not limited to:
- One-off attendance at gatherings such as, inter alia, weddings, birthdays, graduations, anniversary parties, karaoke nights, funerals and zoo trips.
- Complimentary professional and tasteful couples photos to be posted on social media for the duration of the arrangement
- The provision of written correspondence of a romantic nature (letters, cards, texts, emails)
- Emotional guidance with regards to complex interpersonal dynamics
- Free wardrobe consultation to ensure cohesion
There’s only one thing that is less than ideal about his business. He really, really wishes there was a demand from men needing fake dating services from Hanbin; a sign of Korean society’s progress regarding gay relationships. But, as he always reminds himself, it’s probably better this way. The lack of attraction to his clients does make his ability to compartmentalize very easy. He thinks developing feelings for a client would be more of a complication than it’s worth and, as he has learned from the many, many films and television shows on the subject, it happens more often than not.
Hanbin isn’t in a place where he wants to date, nor is he particularly bothered that he hasn’t ever had a long-term relationship. The way he sees it is: the right person will come along when they come along. There’s no use trying to force it, particularly when he has many other proverbial fish to fry. Not when he has two careers, a 5-year plan, and countless family members and friends to devote his energy to. Love will find him when he’s ready for it.
He snaps out of his trip down memory lane and looks around his office and thinks about what to tackle next in his organization goals. His office is on the smaller side– a converted storage closet in the dance studio that his boss had said was fine for him to use– and he’s still figuring out how to make it feel less cramped. He’s just in the middle of sketching out a diagram of the office to start to mind map solutions when his phone lights up.
–
Mashu
hyung!!!!!! 2 min away from your office mind if I stop by? Potential client with me!!
–
Hanbin takes a deep breath, and then another. He feels conflicted: on one hand, an interruption to his day in the form of a surprise client isn’t ideal. On the other hand, Seok Matthew is his best friend who he loves fiercely, and who probably thinks he’s doing Hanbin a favor with a drop in client.
Ah, Mashu. If Hanbin’s office sanctuary is a bird’s nest, Matthew is a fox who has ended up in the wrong nature preserve. He’ll never destroy the ecosystem, though, because he’s sweet and kind.
He sends a thumbs up reply, followed by a lemon heart sticker for good measure to signal he’ll be happy to see him. He then sends a text to the front desk to let them know he has guests coming, and then pulls up his intake form on his computer in preparation.
“Hyung!” Matthew throws his arms around him as soon as Hanbin opens the door. Immediately, the last of Hanbin's irritation at his interrupted day is neutralized. “Sorry for the surprise drop in!”
“Aww, anything for my Mashu,” Hanbin says as they pull apart, instantly ruffling Matthew’s hair. It’s only then that he notices the man standing next to Matthew. “Oh, hello! I’m–”
“Oh, yeah, sorry! Ricky-yah, this is Sung Hanbin! I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to introduce you two, oh my god. Insane of me, for real.” He says this last part in English. “Hanbin-hyung, this is Ricky! He’s my friend from that English speakers in Korea club at school, I think I’ve told you about that? Ricky-yah, Hanbin-hyung graduated from our school, but I’ve actually known him forever. Our uncles are best friends, so I’ve gotten to see this guy every time I’ve come to Korea to visit since I was like, an infant.”
“Nice to meet you,” Hanbin says, bowing. Ricky returns the bow and gives him a little nod, but doesn’t say anything. He looks painfully uncomfortable, and Hanbin feels fascinated by his choice of wardrobe for what is a relatively warm May afternoon. He’s wearing a long, leather duster jacket that he hasn’t taken off, a crisp white shirt, silver earrings and rings, a pendant necklace of a knife. His hair, bleach blonde, is perfectly sculpted, and he’s wearing makeup- a simple smoky eye look that does add to his whole “fallen angel” vibe. It impresses Hanbin. He gestures to them both to sit down opposite him at his desk.
It’s only then that Hanbin realizes the unusual situation he’s in, and his excitement grows. When he speaks, it’s less calm and collected than normal. “So, uh, Matthew says you’re a prospective client? Excuse my surprise, I just don’t tend to get male clients!”
“Oh yeah, his family is super progressive,” Matthew says, patting Ricky on the back for emphasizing the super. “They remind me of your parents for real. And dude, his brother is also gay. Isn’t that crazy? Woke family for real, haha. Not that you can’t be woke and be gay. Or that if you’re gay you’re woke, but you know. Oh, sorry bro! I’ll shut up. You probably want Ricky to answer. Ricky, do your thing.” He gestures at Ricky to speak. Ricky looks like he wants the floor to swallow him up. Hanbin gives him one of his most encouraging smiles.
“Right,” Ricky says slowly, after roughly ten seconds of painfully stilted silence. “Uh… I’m not really sure where to begin. Matthew didn’t really give me a full overview of what it is you do. He just said it’s a ‘To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before’ thing.”
“Ah, no worries,” Hanbin says brightly. “We can get into everything in a second. Let’s start simple. There’s actually an intake form, I’m not sure if Matthew showed you–” Matthew shakes his head, but doesn’t lose his big smile. “Got it, no problem! It tends to make things easier, but, that’s fine. I can fill in your answers for you right here.” He gestures at his computer. Ricky nods quickly. “Okay, great! I actually got it all up and ready anticipating this. Let’s see… alright. Got your name, so that one’s easy! Age?”
“22, uh. It’s my birthday in a few weeks, actually.”
“Great! Happy birthday. And, within my service range! Email address?”
“Uh… charismabossba- you know what, Matthew will text it to you, that’s. Probably easier,” Ricky says sheepishly. Matthew gives Hanbin a thumbs up.
“Alright,” Hanbin says, giving him an easy smile. Ricky looks at least slightly less alarmed and uncomfortable, which Hanbin takes as a win. “Right! So, as Matthew indicated, I run a professional boyfriend service. I really tailor it depending on what the client needs. I do one-offs– weddings, graduations, that kind of thing– ah! Excuse me, I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe you should tell me about your situation. Why are you looking to hire a professional boyfriend?”
“To be clear, I didn’t know that was exactly what I was doing when Matthew brought me here,” Ricky says, giving Matthew a sharp look that does nothing to dampen the smile on Matthew’s face. “But… I guess he’s not wrong that it’s something I might need soon. Or now. Probably really soon, actually. For my birthday party.” Hanbin gives him an encouraging smile. “So… um. As Matthew mentioned, my older brother is gay. We grew up in LA, moved to China for a while, and then, uh, Hao-hyung wanted to come here for university to do music. So we all just, sort of like, moved with him when he went. We’re close. I guess that’s not really relevant.”
“Any facts you want to share are relevant,” Hanbin says kindly. He already feels fond of this obviously close-knit family.
“Okay. So, uh. He’s always had boyfriends. Like, he’s only four years older than me but it feels like he’s had boyfriends since I was born. And our mom is amazing, really accepting, like Matthew said, but. Maybe a little too accepting, haha. She really wants us to find love. And kind of meddles. And Hao-hyung, um… Matthew, you tell the rest of it.”
“No worries, bro. What Ricky’s trying to say is– Hao-hyung is a big dater. Loves serious long-term relationships. Man cannot stay single. So their mom had a lot to focus on with him, right? Left her little time to focus on our boy here or to pressure him to date anyone. She loves matchmaking too. But Hao-hyung just broke up with his last boyfriend, which, not to be rude, was super needed because he was mid. Hao-hyung isn’t like, dying about it or anything, but he says he wants to focus on himself, and not date for at least a year, so. Mama Zhang is focusing back in on Ricky. And Hao-hyung mightttt have fanned the flames a little bit today by calling her and telling her he’s done dating, and bam, immediately she’s telling Hao-hyung about some church oppa guitar player guy she wants to set Ricky up with so he can have a date for his birthday bash, and Ricky’s really not into those vibes.” Matthew claps Ricky on the shoulder. “So then I was thinking, oh, you know what Ricky needs? A professional boyfriend! And what are the odds that I actually know a guy who does that? And that guy is the guy I’ve also been trying to introduce to Ricky in a friend capacity for like six months anyway? Things work out for real. Anyway, we’re thinking he just needs you up to and including the birthday thing. By then, Hao-hyung will probably find someone anyway and she can focus on him again, because, again, he just really cannot stay single, poor guy. Does that all make sense?”
“Yeah,” Hanbin says instantly. He feels pure delight in every iota of his being; so much about this scenario thrills him he’s not even sure where to begin. He tries not to look too eager, given Ricky is still giving off a startled deer vibe. A startled mortified deer. In all black. Hanbin lets himself imagine a deer in a leather jacket for a moment to amuse himself. “If I can just say, I think it’s really wonderful that your mom is so accepting. I’d love to meet her. And your brother. And anyone in your family! We can of course talk strategy later, but here’s what I’m thinking. You said the party is soon, right?”
“Uh, yeah, a few weeks. May 20th.”
“Great! So what I’m thinking is, you engage me today, sign the MOU, and I get started right away. We already have a great meeting story! We can keep it just like this. Our mutual friend Matthew decided to matchmake.”
“And I would’ve done it for real, if I didn’t know you guys weren’t each other’s type,” Matthew interjects. “Oh, sorry! I mean, I’m not wrong but.. haha.”
Ricky bites back a laugh, and exchanges a quick look with Hanbin. Hanbin has to say, one of his favorite things about being gay is being able to wordlessly communicate like this. Off that quick look, he knows two things: Matthew was dead on, and both he and Ricky are in agreement on that fact, and the lingering tension disappears from the room.
“Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking.” Hanbin grabs his work notebook from the top of the stack in front of him, briefly admiring its beautiful, simple sky blue cover before getting down to business. He grabs his favorite pen, clicks it on, and opens the notebook to the first blank page. He draws a horizontal line across the page. “So, if Matthew introduces us around now…” Hanbin draws a box on the far left, and writes “introduction” in it, and today’s date, May 3rd, above it. He adds another box to the other end, writes “birthday party” inside it, and adds May 20th above it. “Right, so. We have our first date this week, because this introduction goes so well, haha. You don’t say anything to your mom at first, for realism—”
“That actually won’t be a problem, because she’s going back to LA for the next week or so to see my dad. He’s there for a work thing for a few months, so. That might be good?”
“Even better! So when she comes back, you very feasibly could have started dating someone. And then you can tell her when she gets back. We have one introductory meeting, you, me, your family. And then, of course, I’m your date for the birthday party! And then… do you think you’d need it to last much longer than that? Because usually, I plant the seeds for why it isn’t going to work out long-term at the event itself and don’t offer services beyond that one-off event, but for Matthew, I could bend the–”
“No no, don’t worry. Hao-hyung will find someone within that time,” Matthew says sagely. “I just know it.”
“Well, great!” Hanbin says, smiling one of his most winning smiles. “So you’ll keep me posted. Easy enough for us to just fizzle out. Nothing bad has to happen. Just a first love, not built to last. But we can go into the specifics of our breakup later.” He doesn’t bring up the other thoughts coming into his head, the vision in his head beginning to form featuring himself, Ricky and Ricky’s mother and brother, sitting around the living room table, discussing their feelings about communication and boundaries. Ricky’s only just now starting to relax. Hanbin isn’t about to be the metaphorical shotgun to his startled, leather-wearing deer. “If that all sounds good to you, I’ll get all of this written down now in the form. And then I’ll have my assistant send over the agreement and fee structure. If monthly payments are needed, just let me know.”
“Oh he does not need that,” Matthew says with a giggle. “You just send through that invoice whenever you’re ready, hyung.” Ricky makes a face and elbows him.
“Great!” Hanbin says again. “Now, of course, I use the utmost discretion, to keep up the scheme. Obviously this falls apart if people know. My website is password protected, and all my social media for my dating persona is kept private. No one will know of this arrangement except the two of us, and, well, Matthew. And my assistant. But, you mention you have a brother. Normally, I’d propose keeping the entire family in the dark, but some people prefer to tell their siblings if they’re close with them. It’s up to you, I just need to know so I know who to say what to. You said you’re close with your brother?”
“Yeah,” Ricky says immediately. “We are, but…” He trails off. Hanbin’s interest is piqued at his hesitancy, and waits with bated breath to see if Ricky is going to elaborate. It’s not normally this early on in his cases where he gets real insight into what’s going on within a family unit beneath the surface. A potentially fraught sibling relationship would be a key data point for him. His brain begins whirring, trying to figure out how he might subtly tease more information out of Ricky, before he remembers it’s probably too soon. Unless it isn’t. Just as he’s about to speak, Ricky’s placid expression turns devious. “But I also want to prank him. As payback. This is the funniest option.” Oh.
“Yeah, it’s lowkey his fault,” Matthew agrees. “Also, Hao-hyung is really straightforward. I don’t trust he wouldn’t blow the whole thing anyway. This is the right way to go.”
“Alright,” Hanbin says, trying not to let his disappointment show. “Then, if you could add all your socials on my phone.” Hanbin unlocks his phone and switches to his professional Instagram page. “This is me. Oh, and of course add me on Line. I promise I’ll limit my messages, haha.” Ricky nods and takes the phone from him and begins entering his information. “The other thing I want to mention is that this works best when we stick as close to the truth as possible. It’s easier to remember that way. It might feel silly, but what I tend to do with clients is actually act out all the things we’re saying are happening. So for example, Matthew is introducing us right now, on this day, at this time. So, when we tell your mother how we met, we say, ‘Matthew dropped by my office and brought Ricky and introduced us, because he thought we’d be a good match. There was a mutual attraction, and then we exchanged socials. It escalated from there.’ Keeping the bare bones the same to avoid confusion, just with all the added romantic details. Does that make sense?”
Ricky hands back Hanbin’s phone to him, and nods. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
“Fantastic. And what’s great is I can actually get all the details I need to know while pretending to! For example, I’d probably ask, are you in school?”
“Uh, yeah,” Ricky says. “I’m in my last year. Fine Arts at Hongdae. I’m primarily interested in painting right now.”
“He’s also a fashionista, as you could probably tell,” Matthew adds, gesturing to Ricky’s outfit. He claps his hands together in delight. “Hm.. yeah, let’s get into this. What makes Ricky Ricky?”
They spend a few minutes addressing that question, during which Hanbin gets the basics of Ricky’s life and history. He finds out he was born in LA, but lived in Fujian for many years before moving to Korea. His father is an ad executive who still travels to LA frequently. His mother owns a fashion brand that Hanbin hasn’t heard of, but Ricky assures him she’s the most stylish person he knows apart from himself. Finally, Ricky’s brother is a 26-years-old who loves durian, teaching violin, and tormenting Ricky with threats of guitar-playing church oppas.
Once they’re gone, Hanbin reviews his notes and is thrilled to see he has more than enough to go on. He’s already mentally picking out an outfit he thinks Ricky’s mom will love– stylish, bold, a little less boy-next-door and a little more male model. He turns to a new page in his notebook and switches from the pen he was using to a sleek fountain pen he only uses for page headings. It feels specifically fitting for Ricky’s aesthetic. He thinks for a moment of a good name for the project, and then writes “Operation Ricky” at the top. Simplicity never hurt anyone.
–
10 days after ending things with Hyunwoo, Hao is proud to say he feels like he’s landed on an excellent post-breakup aesthetic. Namely: one where he looks hot and takes up hobbies.
It has taken a little bit of trial and error. Tiktok’s algorithm pushed hobbies on him that weren’t conducive to him looking hot. Gardening and running just made him sweaty, and not in a sexy way. Bullet journaling was too time consuming, boring, and, no matter how many different photos he took of himself with a pen in his mouth, supremely unsexy.
Today, he woke up determined to solve this problem, and called his most aesthetically-inclined friend who instantly lobbed a number of ideas in his direction for post-breakup hobbies. The first few Hao vetoed (poetry writing, weightlifting, painting) but then Jiwoong struck gold when he suggested cooking.
Hao realized in an instant how perfect it was. He could picture himself in the aesthetic cooking photos so easily: sleeves rolled up, hair artfully disheveled, not making eye contact with the camera as he chopped a cucumber. It was perfect. He excitedly got off the phone with Jiwoong and went to the kitchen, determined to not leave until he had successfully made something good.
Unfortunately, he’s deflated when he realizes he forgot he needs to go to the grocery, that the odds of their kitchen having everything he needs for the braised short rib stew recipe he found in one of his mother’s cookbooks are low. He sighs heavily, and slumps into a chair in the dining room, allowing himself twenty minutes of wallowing before bravely going to the store.
He’s just in the process of feeling supremely sorry for himself (and maybe closing his eyes for a mini nap) when his brother’s voice breaks him out of his haze.
“Were you cooking?” Ricky calls from the kitchen.
“Huh?” Hao calls back. He can hear him, technically, but he feels like being a brat. Ricky dutifully walks from the kitchen to the wide open living room where Hao is lounging.
“I asked if you were cooking.”
“Oh. Well. As it turns out, no,” Hao says grumpily. “Kitchen’s all yours if you want it.”
“Um, yeah, maybe later,” Ricky says, faux casually. Hao instantly knows something is up. “I was actually wanting to talk to you about something, if you have a minute.”
Hao frowns, and immediately motions for Ricky to sit down next to him. “Of course, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, um, everything is good. Everything’s really good, actually.” Ricky smiles, showing a decent amount of his teeth. More teeth than Hao has seen in his mouth in a smile in a long time. “So! Funny story, actually. You remember a few days ago when Matthew was over? And you and mama were talking about setting me up with that… person?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Matthew and I actually ended up talking about it after, and he really got me to see your point of view, actually. About mama. And also, everything you’ve done over the years. It really… made me see why you said what you said. And… you do deserve to take your year off dating. I should’ve been more understanding about that. I did sort of assume you were pretty checked out of the relationship a few months ago, because you were saying all that stuff about how mid he was, but now I see that I was misreading.”
“I appreciate your apology,” Hao says graciously.
“Yeah. But like, I can’t go out with that guy. Which is what I was saying to Matthew, and he said he had a friend he thought would be perfect for me. Apparently, he’s wanted to introduce us for ages but it’s never been the right time. So he just asked the guy if he was available, and he was, so we met up with him, and… yeah. It’s only been a few days, but I wanted you to be the first to know that we’re actually going out now. We’re dating.” He accentuates the words with jazz hands, which he visibly regrets a millisecond later.
Hao’s brain takes a few seconds to process that information.
His first thought is that Ricky must be lying. The manner of speaking and the jazz hands alone are awkward and unconvincing, even if he could move past the concept of Ricky voluntarily agreeing to go out with a stranger. Plus, coming right after their mother (and Hao, fine) threatened the church oppa set up? No. He wants to mess with Hao, and get their mother off his back. The timing is too suspicious.
Except. What if Ricky isn’t lying? The problem is, Hao doesn’t actually have any evidence for how Ricky would act upon setting up his first ever date. Maybe he would do jazz hands. Maybe it would take a situation exactly like this, something silly and unpredictable, the threat of having to feign interest in Formula 1, to propel him headfirst into romance. And Hao might love teasing Ricky, but Ricky is still his beloved younger brother. What if it turned out Ricky was being genuine and Hao’s first response was to laugh in his face and call him a liar?
No, that can’t stand. Supportive older brother mode first, investigation later.
“Gege?” Ricky prompts, after Hao realizes the silence has probably stretched on a bit too long.
“Sorry! I’m just surprised,” Hao says warmly. He thumps Ricky’s shoulder with his palm. “But that’s great! Wow! Who is he? Tell me everything about him! Do I need to, like, go and make sure he is treating you well? Do you want me to do that?”
Ricky looks at him in disbelief for a moment, before quickly schooling it into something more neutral. “Oh! Thanks! Uh. No, haha, all good. He’s nice! Really nice.” Casually, he adds, “And it’s new, so. Definitely too early for that, yeah.” He looks painfully uncomfortable which, Hao thinks, does track for how this conversation would go.
“Anyway,” Ricky continues, “his name is Sung Hanbin. He’s three years older than me. Uh. He’s a dancer, actually. A dance teacher, too.” He pauses. “ENFJ.” He pauses again. “If I were to list some other things about him, I would say that he has a very close relationship with his family, specializes in tutting and waacking dance styles, and has a large perfume collection.” The Naver Wiki-like description prompts Hao to add a notch to the “this is a lie” column in his head. (Particularly the ENFJ part. His brother has no tolerance for MBTI.)
Unless. Unless that was the only way Ricky knew how to talk about it, to fall back on basic facts before having to reveal too much. His brother is a true enigma.
“He sounds very interesting,” Hao says kindly. “Can you show me a picture?”
At this, Ricky brightens. “Yes! Of course.” He opens his phone, to where the Instagram page is already loaded. “You can scroll through it if you want.”
Ricky continues talking. Hao knows he’s talking. He knows there are words coming out of his mouth, ones that may swing the pendulum either way from “Ricky’s boyfriend is definitely real” to “Ricky’s boyfriend is definitely fake” but Hao doesn’t hear them. Can’t hear them, in the face of the most beautiful man he has ever looked at appearing in front of him in tiny boxes.
Hao has looked at a lot of men. Hao has, fine, yes, dated a lot of men. Hao has spent many, many hours of his life thinking about beautiful men. Thousands of them. His Tiktok feed is constantly showing him them, even when he (like now) isn’t even particularly looking for them. Hao didn’t think he had it in him to get bowled over by beauty anymore; that seemed like something that was better left to his past, when experiencing attraction was new and everything made him feel insane. He’s supposed to be less insane now. He’s supposed to be on a year-long break from this kind of thing.
He was wrong. Staring at Sung Hanbin’s perfect insane face makes him realize that. He looks like a Kpop idol. He looks like a literal Kpop idol. He looks like every one of Hao’s wet dreams came to life and merged into one perfect man.
He’s terrified to see full versions of the photos, but he, mutely, in a trancelike state, opens the most recent post.
He doesn’t know how much time passes as he takes in every detail of Sung Hanbin, now in full focus. It feels merciful that Hanbin at least isn’t looking into the camera, isn’t staring into his soul or anything. It gives him some much needed distance. Staring at Hanbin is like staring into the sun; he has to focus on specific details of Hanbin in the photo so as not to get overwhelmed by the entirety of him. His brain can’t handle it. He feels crazy.
“Alright, that’s enough stalking for you,” Ricky says, and the phone is viciously plucked from Hao’s hands, forcing him back to earth. “I actually am about to go meet him anyway-, oh, I have to leave soon! But I’m glad we could have this chat, gege, really.” He gives Hao a warm smile, and then gets up from the sofa. Hao follows him as he heads to the front door and begins putting on his shoes, which are, of course, black suede shoes to complement his suede vest and black denim jeans.
“Oh, where are you two going?” Hao asks, hoping it comes off like an absentminded curiosity and not the feral need it absolutely is.
“I’m actually not sure. He says he’s going to surprise me, so I’m just going to meet him at a cafe and then we’ll go from there, I guess,” Ricky says with a shrug. It’s the first thing he’s said about Hanbin that comes out smooth. “Are you doing anything tonight?”
Hao rattles off his evening cooking plans monotonously, mentally counting the seconds until Ricky is gone so he can execute the plan rapidly forming in his brain. Ricky expresses his understandable skepticism and fears regarding Hao’s cooking adventures, reminding him where the fire extinguisher is, before waving and finally, finally, leaving.
Hao sets his phone timer for 5 minutes, just in case Ricky forgets something and needs to run back, and begins pacing the kitchen. He runs through his violin lesson plan for one of his five year olds that he’s seeing tomorrow morning, plays through Lightly Row in his head, and then his phone alarm goes off and he runs upstairs, straight to Ricky’s room.
He looks from the Macbook sitting on Ricky’s desk to the iPad on his bedside table, and mentally debates. Both will likely be logged into Instagram. The Macbook undoubtedly would provide him much more information than the iPad would if he wanted to snoop and find out what’s really going on with his brother and Hanbin, which is momentarily tempting before his conscience catches up with him. He can’t invade his brother’s privacy. Plus, the Macbook is password protected with a long, complicated password Ricky changes from time to time. The iPad’s code is 4 digits and, given how many times Hao has seen Ricky unlock it, he has a feeling he knows what it is.
He fishes out his phone from his pocket, tiptoes over to Ricky’s bedside table, and takes a photo of it to ensure he puts the iPad back in the right position. He carefully picks up the iPad, and goes to sit at Ricky’s desk, placing the iPad on top of the closed MacBook. There’s a moment of adrenaline when he goes to type in the password– would Ricky still be using the numbers that spell out R-I-C-K, at the age of 22?-- and sighs in relief when 7-4-2-5 does indeed open the iPad. And from there, everything is easy and methodical. He does it with the same calm and controlled series of clicks that he uses every time he needs to block someone on all social media platforms. He opens Instagram. He goes to Ricky’s profile. He goes to his followers tab. He finds Hanbin’s profile. He clicks into Hanbin’s locked profile.
Seeing all the photos he only got a glimpse of there, in full, for his viewing pleasure is almost too much, like it’s his birthday and he has 50 presents to open and doesn’t know where to start. He desperately wants to screenshot to preserve the quality, but there’s too many unpredictable variables involved in screenshotting all the photos he wants to and sending them to himself from Ricky’s iPad over email or messaging. He settles for the next best thing: he pulls out his phone, and going one by one, opens each of Hanbin’s posts, enlarging the full caption where necessary, and takes a photo of each of them.
He says he’ll only do five. Then ten. Then twenty. And once he’s hit twenty, he realizes there are no limits to his depravity and he should stop pretending otherwise. The only saving grace is that the account is relatively new, so there’s less than a hundred posts in total; Hao realizes with disappointment there’s no way this is his only account. The photos are too stylized and professional. He goes back to check Ricky’s follower list again, but his thorough scroll does not reveal any accounts that look like they could be a slutty Hanbin finsta. It’s a disappointment, but it’s okay. He has enough.
Once he’s placed the iPad safely back in its original place and is back in his own bedroom, sitting on his bed with his back propped up against the headboard and a phone full of images of what is potentially his brother’s boyfriend, the manic haze driving his actions fades and he is filled with guilt. This is his brother’s boyfriend. What is he doing? He can’t jerk off to his brother’s boyfriend’s photos. That’s a line he won’t cross. That’s a line he will force himself not to cross. He will be a good brother, even if it means denying himself what he wants more than anything in the world.
Unless Hanbin isn’t actually Ricky’s boyfriend. In which case, it’s fine.
Hao replays his conversation with Ricky in his head, looking for any hidden signs that he might’ve missed. But no, it’s still a 50/50 for him. Maybe 60/40, if he allows himself to give more weight to the Naver Wiki thing. He remembers the MBTI again, which bumps it up to 80/20. Unless Ricky has become a believer in MBTI…? Crazier things have happened, he supposes.
But no. He’s probably right. He just needs to know for sure.
He sees the sun beginning to set outside his window. It would be a nice background for the first time he jerked off to Hanbin, if that is something he does get to do. That thought propels him to open his phone and call the one person who he knows can help him.
“Zhang Hao!” Matthew’s cheery voice answers after one ring. “How’s it going? Ricky told me you heard the big news, right? Isn’t it great?”
“He did,” Hao says. He makes his voice sound as sweet as possible when he says: “He actually told me everything. It was a very open and honest conversation.” He pauses, expecting Matthew to take the bait. Matthew does not. “Very revealing,” Hao adds.
“Aww, good! Love a sibling heart-to-heart. You’re making me realize I gotta call my sis. It’s been too long.” Hao grits his teeth. Just as he’s about to reply, Matthew continues: “Seriously, though. I’m glad he told you! And just so you know, Hanbin’s a great guy. I’ve known him since I was a kid. And he’s hot! Did Ricky show you a picture?”
Hao is really glad this isn’t a video call. “Uh, yeah, might’ve,” Hao says, very casually.
Matthew doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Y’know, it’s actually funny,” Matthew finally says, words slow and measured. “When I first met you, what, six months ago? I actually thought to myself, ‘whoa, this guy would be perfect for my friend Hanbin,’ but obviously you were dating Hyunwoo at the time. And then when I found out you broke up, I thought, ‘maybe now!’ but you were like, ‘no, Mashu, please respect my wishes, I’m not dating for a year,’ and I felt that. Seriously. And then I thought, was I looking at the wrong brother? And then bam! It all works out. The universe is so funny.” He pauses. “Just out of curiosity, haha, was I right?”
“Okay, so Ricky is not actually dating Hanbin,” Hao says, and the relief he feels is amplified when Matthew’s rushed protestations prove he is 100% right. “Mashu, it’s okay. I’m not going to tell our mom. And I won’t tell him you let it slip.”
“I didn’t even! You’re just, like, ugh. It’s that science brain, seriously.”
“You have a science brain too,” Hao reminds him. “Weren’t you pre-med?”
“The past tense is crucial. But seriously! You think he’s hot, right? He’s so your type, right?”
Hao doesn’t like lying, but he also doesn’t need any more humiliation tonight. “Gotta go, my kitchen is on fire. Bye, Mashu!” He turns off his phone before Matthew has a chance to reply.
The relief he feels is palpable, nearly sentient. He excitedly settles in for a morally acceptable jerk off session, not letting himself think about what he might have still been willing to do had the call with Matthew gone a different way. There are some stones that can be left unturned.
–
After the initial intake with Ricky, Hanbin spends a busy few days juggling dance classes, time with family, exercise, and updating his wardrobe to fit Ricky’s tastes. He learns from Matthew that this should take priority; a major strike against the church oppa apparently was a ‘mismatch in aesthetic.’ (“Just like, do the opposite of this,” is what Matthew had said on the phone, after he’d sent him a screenshot of the guy’s Instagram page.)
He orders rush delivery of a few fun pieces that he thinks will match Ricky’s vibe well, a vibe he has been studying extensively through a thorough scroll of his Instagram, and invites Gunwook over for his feedback the day before the first meeting. He’s a little nervous, but feels having an outfit decided on will do a lot to ease his nerves. He also uses a soothing mantra, reminding himself that he has successfully fake dated many people before now, and he will again. He is in control.
“I’d say no to the leather vest,” Gunwook says. He’s reclining on Hanbin’s bed, munching on an apple slice. Hanbin’s mom had handed him a whole bowl when he arrived. “The silk black shirt is nice. But maybe too similar. Can you show me the moodboard again?”
Hanbin pulls off the leather vest and goes to sit next to Gunwook on the bed. He pulls out his phone and navigates to his photos. “It’s more like an anti-moodboard. The opposite of this.”
Gunwook sits up and takes a look at the photos. “Ah, right. You said. Taerae.” He looks straight ahead, as if he’s about to recite the solution to a complicated math problem. “Ricky’s mother wants to set him up with Taerae for his birthday party. Ricky would rather die than have this happen, so he’s getting a fake boyfriend to ensure that it doesn’t happen.”
“Yep.”
“I’m so glad my mom doesn’t require me to have a date for my birthday parties,” Gunwook says sagely. “That’s something I take for granted. This is why I like this job, hyung. It always prompts me to look at things differently.” He peers at the screen closer. “The outfit in the blurry photo isn’t that bad. I think this guy just isn’t doing himself any favors by not knowing how to take a picture. It’s an easy enough fix.”
“Yeah, he needs someone like you to guide him,” Hanbin says with a smile. He grabs his notebook from the desk by his bed and begins reviewing his notes.
“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Gunwook says slowly. “Wait, hyung, I actually have a great idea. You know how you’re always saying part of fake dating is preparing for the worst? What if Ricky’s mom still invites this Taerae guy to his birthday, and he ruins the whole thing?”
“I don’t really think that’s likely, but I do appreciate you flagging that,” Hanbin says kindly.
“Right, but what if it did? That’s a situation we do not want. So I’m thinking, I track him down, make him my fake boyfriend. Remember, how we talked about me following in your footsteps? The mentorship?”
Hanbin doesn’t exactly recall that, but he knows better than to argue and trigger Gunwook’s dormant debate team persona. He’ll go path of least resistance here. “That’s a great idea, Gunwook-ah. Just be careful when, uh, stalking him? Maybe don’t stalk him, actually. That would probably be for the best.”
In an instant, Gunwook hops up from Hanbin’s bed and grabs his messenger bag from the back of his desk chair. “Hyung, you don’t have to worry about that. I would never do something that could be legally classified as stalking.” He pops the last apple slice in his mouth, waves, and runs out of the room.
Hanbin gives himself a moment to laugh and then gets back to reviewing his intake notes and plan of action.
In short, he doesn’t know a lot yet. The surface level explanation for Ricky’s fake boyfriend need does seem legitimate enough, but that’s how it always is. He draws a large rectangle in the middle of the next blank page in his notebook and writes RICKY in big bold letters. Then, he adds an arrow out of one side of it, and adds a box on the other side of that arrow that says MOTHER. He adds another arrow on the other side, draws another box, in which he writes BROTHER. He adds some question marks for good measure.
That’s what it is, really, when he gets right down to it. A big question mark over Ricky’s mother and brother. He just doesn’t know very much about either of them yet, and that’s the problem. One of them, or both of them, is the key.
He decides on the black silk shirt and a pair of black jeans, and then reviews his notes on Ricky’s life once more. Satisfied that he’s done all the needed intellectual and sartorial prep work for the first meeting tomorrow, he settles down for a much-needed nap.
–
After the potentially ill-advised but morally acceptable jerk off session, Hao spends a busy few days not doing much of anything, except for one thing.
He’s a man possessed. The demon is Hanbin. Hanbin has possessed him. Hanbin is inside of him. Hanbin should be inside of him–
And that’s how it starts, and how it continues, and how it ends, always, with his hand shoved in his sweatpants, experiencing the best orgasm he’s had in years. Each time is better than the last. It feels especially embarrassing given Hanbin’s photos aren’t even revealing. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he ever saw a revealing one. He remembers reading about a science experiment where rats were hooked up to something and learned that if they pressed a certain button, they’d feel pleasure. The rats starved to death pressing that button, refusing to take breaks to eat and drink. That’s what Hao fears for himself if he were to see a Hanbin Nude.
He reminds himself that technically, his rule was that he wouldn’t date for a year. He didn’t say anything about masturbation, or even casual sex.
But would he even want casual sex with Hanbin?
The problem is, it doesn't stop with the pictures. He has to learn more. He finds himself replaying all the Naver Wiki facts he learned from Ricky, too humiliated to ask any more, on a loop in his brain. He finds himself searching for information about what ENFJs are like. He learns they’re born leaders and protagonists, and harbor a deep emotional connection to other people. (Hao wonders if they tend to be tops. Naver does not have any conclusive information about that.) He researches perfumes. He doesn’t look up Hanbin’s dance videos, even though he could, because he knows that’s a box he should keep shut. He is frankly afraid of what his brain and body would do with that information.
He would probably have caved and tried to get information out of Ricky by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s barely seen Ricky and not had the chance. For that, he’s grateful. He supposes Ricky is around less because he is supposed to have a new boyfriend. Where does Ricky go when he’s pretending to be with Hanbin? What if he’s actually with Hanbin? Hao feels a destabilizing rush of jealousy, and that’s when he realizes he might be in way, way too deep.
He has enough self-awareness to know cutting himself off won’t work, so he tries to at least limit his exposure. He throws himself back into work, allowing himself one Hanbin photo a day. He bakes an elaborate cake for Jiwoong from scratch. He sets a record for how many different fruits he can put in one smoothie.
He tries to avoid, to the best of his ability, the awareness that he will unquestionably have to meet Hanbin soon and somehow not be a lunatic about it.
–
When the day comes to meet Ricky’s family, exactly 10 days after their first meeting, Hanbin feels prepared.
He had decided, and Ricky had quickly agreed, that the best way to do it was to appear suddenly, with flowers, when his mother would be back from her grocery shopping, the day after returning from her trip. It would indicate, among other things, that Hanbin is a considerate young man who makes a habit of dropping in unannounced to bring presents.
Ricky answers the door with a slight nod. “Hey, uh. Thanks for coming. Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
“Not at all,” Hanbin says brightly. He quickly gets out of his shoes and gestures to the flowers in his hand. “Where should I put these?”
“Oh, right, thanks for that, um. Nice touch,” Ricky says, his voice painfully stilted. He takes the flower bouquet, red and white roses, from Hanbin’s hands. “I’ll just, yeah, take those for now. My mom will enjoy getting to find the perfect vase for them, I think. Do you want a drink or anything?”
“I’m okay,” Hanbin says. “Thank you, though.” An uneasy silence descends over the room, as Ricky looks anywhere in the room apart from at Hanbin. “Are you nervous?”
Ricky tilts his head to the side. “No. It’s not that. It’s just, like, weird. Lying to my mom and brother, I guess.”
Perfect lead in, Hanbin thinks. He’s not about to waste an opening to start gently planting the seeds in Ricky’s mind why he doesn’t feel like he can be direct with his mother. Before he’s able to ask Ricky to elaborate, though, the sound of a keycode being typed in stops him.
A panicked look crosses Ricky’s face, as the door opens and a tall, very well-dressed woman carrying bags of groceries enters the apartment.
She doesn’t notice Hanbin immediately, too busy saying something admonishing in Chinese to Ricky and foisting off the grocery bags on him, and taking off her shoes. Hanbin uses the few seconds to take in her appearance; she’s tall, thin, impeccably dressed in a pair of stylish jeans and a pink silk shirt. Hanbin is suitably impressed. When she locks eyes with Hanbin, he can see she has a suitably intense face. Hanbin feels like he immediately understands her.
“Oh! Hello! Ricky-yah, you didn’t tell me you had a guest,” Ricky’s mom chastises, switching to Korean.
“Sorry, Mama,” Ricky says bashfully. “This is- uh–”
“Sung Hanbin,” Hanbin says smoothly, bowing deeply at her. “It is an honor to meet you. Can I assist with the groceries?”
Ricky’s mother stares at him, transfixed. “Oh my, you’re handsome! Where did you come from?” She looks from him, to the flowers Ricky is awkwardly trying to hold amidst the bags of groceries. “And did you bring those?”
“Ah, yes, I’m sorry to drop in unannounced, if I had known you would be here, I would’ve gotten an extra bouquet,” Hanbin says smoothly, as Ricky hurries to the kitchen island to deposit the bags of groceries. He usually can tell when his more risky lines will go over well with a mother. As expected, she smiles in delight. And then, realization dawns across her face.
“Wait, these are for–”
“Mama, why don’t we all go sit down,” Ricky says, coming back into the entryway. They had prepared this part of the script thoroughly, and it sounds much less stilted than it did two days ago. Hanbin feels a swell of pride in his chest.
When they’re settled in the living room– Ricky and his mother on the couch, Hanbin in a loveseat opposite them– they perform their play.
“So, um, this wasn’t how I expected this to come out! I wanted to wait until it was a bit less new but, well, this one, he just loves to surprise,” Ricky says, punctuating the last word with a little nod to Hanbin. Hanbin holds up his hands in a ‘sue me’ gesture.
“This one,” Ricky’s mom repeats, barely containing her thrill.
“And I really am sorry to ambush you on a beautiful Sunday, but I do hope the flowers can bring some joy,” Hanbin says with a smile.
“It is no problem,” Ricky’s mother says, voice firm and resolute. “None whatsoever. Because– does this mean–”
“Hanbin is my boyfriend,” Ricky says, with a slight smile that Hanbin watched him practice in the mirror. “Uh. We became official last week, but we started seeing each other right before you left for your trip. Matthew introduced us.”
“Matthew,” Ricky’s mother says in reverence. “I’ve always loved him.” She takes a moment to collect herself, for the giddy euphoric expression to fade. “Well. Isn’t this marvelous news! Does anyone want a drink? Should we make a toast? But of course, Hanbin, my dear, please tell me everything about yourself. How did my socially awkward son charm you?”
“Mama,” Ricky says through gritted teeth, cheeks immediately flushing.
“What? I’m sure you’ve told him that it’s your first relationship– I’m sorry, that’s why this is such a surprise, darling Hanbin! A very welcome surprise, but a change–”
“Mama!”
“Of course, I would be delighted to talk about all the reasons I fell for your son,” Hanbin says earnestly. “Especially since, I’d say so much of it comes from your incredible parenting.” Ricky’s mother claps in delight; Hanbin sees out of the corner of his eye Ricky very much trying hard to keep a straight face. “I’d say, first and foremost, it was his–”
But Hanbin isn’t able to finish that sentence for two reasons. First, he’s interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing, and a voice calling out a greeting in Chinese. Second, he’s interrupted by the fact that the world stops.
Hanbin isn’t sure what happens to the time that passes in the 20 or so seconds it takes for Zhang Hao to take off his shoes at the door and come into the living room to greet his family. He wishes he’d paid more attention when Gunwook described all those “really fascinating, hyung, seriously” scholarly articles he reads about time dilation, space, earth, the stars, the galaxy. He wants a more detailed metaphor to describe what’s happening to him, to explain the way the world is refusing to spin anymore, that seconds are failing to tick by as they should, that nothing is as it should be. All because Hanbin is in the room with his soulmate for the first time, and that has to be honored. Galactically.
Zhang Hao is beautiful, at a level his brain can’t quite comprehend. He first grounds himself in Zhang Hao’s outfit, finding that a safer thing to focus on than the details of Hao’s perfect, perfect face and body. Zhang Hao is dressed in a white t-shirt and sweatpants, paired with an oversized zip-up hoodie. He has one silver dangle earring in, and a few rings on his fingers. On his nails are pink, sparkly flower stickers.
And he has the most beautiful eyes Hanbin has ever seen. His lips make Hanbin want to bite them. He has moles, quite a few of them, that Hanbin wants to trace with his finger. His neck, is–
Hanbin wants to lick his neck. That’s all there is to it.
There was a time before he knew Zhang Hao, and now there’s now. Nothing else matters. Not fake dating Zhang Hao’s brother, not impressing their mother. Everything that he thought his life was before is now permanently changed. He looks into Zhang Hao’s eyes and he knows nothing will ever be the same again.
The only thing that jolts him out of his daze is Zhang Hao addressing him directly. Something in his brain kicks into gear and tells him very sternly to not miss the first words his soulmate says to him out loud.
“Nice to meet you,” Zhang Hao says, bowing. “Uh, right, you’re Ricky’s boyfriend?”
Hanbin feels faint. Of course his voice is sexy. He quickly bows in response and gives him a warm smile. “It is very nice to meet you.” There was a second thing Zhang Hao said. A question. Hanbin can’t find it within himself to answer. He can’t find it within himself to say anything other than the thing that feels more true than anything in his life, painful as much of an understatement as it is– it is indeed very, very nice to meet Zhang Hao.
“It’s nice to meet you, yes, my name is Sung Hanbin,” Hanbin says.
“Ricky’s boyfriend,” their mother says. “Sit down with us! Dear Hanbin was just telling me about how he fell for our Ricky.” Hao nods quickly and goes to sit on the couch next to his mother.
Is Hanbin hallucinating or can Hao not make eye contact with him? Hanbin wants to make eye contact with him, so badly. And it makes sense for him to. Ricky and Hao’s mother basically served it up on a platter to him, the ability to direct every single thing to Hao. Which is great for Hanbin.
“Right,” Hanbin says. “Uh… as I was saying–”
“The first meeting,” Ricky prompts tersely.
“Of course! Ah. Well. It was…” Hanbin cuts off. His script doesn’t feel like it fits anymore. The words are in his brain, but he can’t connect his brain to what he’s saying out loud. Especially because Hao is looking at him now, expectantly. Their first time making eye contact feels like having sex. “It was one of those moments where your whole life changes. I felt… drawn to him. In a way I never have with another person. It was like time stopped. And I just wanted to know everything about him. But on some level, I felt like I knew him already.” He can’t tear his eyes away from Hao’s. He doesn’t care about how he looks. He doesn’t care about anything other than wondering when and how he can get Hao alone.
But then Hao suddenly breaks the eye contact and jumps up. “Ah! I forgot, oh no. I have a. A call with a prospective student. In five minutes. I’m so sorry. It’s so nice to meet you.” He bows slightly and jogs out of the room.
“Excuse him,” Ricky and Hao’s mom says apologetically. “He’s a music teacher, Ricky might’ve told you. It’s a taxing job.”
“I can only imagine,” Hanbin says, feeling his heart start to stabilize again now that Hao is out of his vision, but also a sadness he can barely cope with.
One of the best things about Hanbin is he can have conversations on autopilot. He lets part of his brain handle the rest of the first meeting, going back to following the script as needed. And then the back of his brain works on what has become the most important thing in his life. Figuring out how he can see Hao again.
–