Chapter Text
There’s a million things Hao doesn’t know and it should be terrifying, but through it all there is no feeling like the one he has right now. Because right now, right this very second, it just feels like he’s running away.
After ditching his parents, Yujin and Ricky all in one swoop, he had packed hurriedly, left for the airport, and boarded his plane all before the people who cares about him realizes Hao is missing. That, honestly, is the achievement of a lifetime. At least, his lifetime. The lifetime that Hao knows that exists anyway. It’s kind of hard to put a meaning to what a lifetime is when he doesn’t actually know what his real lifetime had consisted, especially anything past six months ago.
Zhang Hao. 25 years old. Born in Nanping, China. Only child to his Mom and Dad. Best friend to one Ricky Shen and (mother to one) Han Yujin.
These were all of the information that were dropped on Hao’s lap when he woke up from his accident with no memory whatsoever of what had happened before or during. Then, of course, his family realized that he didn’t just have no memory of the accident but also of what had happened before and every single thing of his whole fucking life. For some reason, that realization had set-off the protective instincts in his Mom’s head and that caused Yujin and Ricky, although both younger than him, to be extra protective as well.
Overhead, Hao hears the announcement, “We are now starting the descent to Vancouver. There will be some slight turbulence so please buckle your seat belt and stay seated.”
The plane makes its descend to Vancouver International Airport and Hao feels his stomach churn the same way that the plane drops to the ground and the whole thing bounces. There is chattering in the background, but he isn’t listening. In fact, he can’t really say he remembers what has happened the whole plane ride anyway. Everything is a blur to Hao the moment he took out his luggage from underneath his bed and stuffed it with his belongings.
Welcome to the story of my life, Hao thinks bitterly, but he immediately regrets it.
It isn’t as if his family and Yujin and Ricky hadn’t been the best anyone could ask for, because they absolutely have been. They were so, so patient (too patient, he sometimes thinks) with him as he navigates this new life. Ricky offered to house him in his apartment while his parents (with Yujin) had moved all of his personal belongings to Ricky’s spare bedroom. At least, he thinks they’re his personal belongings. Hao doesn’t know what is his and what isn’t his after all.
“We have now landed. Our team would like to welcome you to Vancouver. The local time is 3:17 pm. The weather is cloudy with a chance of rain. Thank you for flying with us, and we hope you have a good stay!” The cheery voice of the Captain booms overhead and this is somehow a signal for everyone to start grabbing their bags and luggages from under the seats or from the overhead bin.
Hao lets the whole plane leave in a flurry as he just stays sitted, eyes trained and looking out the window, staring at the clouds on the sky and the gloomy weather that currently reminds him of winter in Seoul more than he would like to admit.
“Sir? Do you need help?” A kind faced flight attendant asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Help. Hao loathes the word. He knows, of course, that he’s being irrational because he shouldn’t be hating on something that he needs. But he just can’t stomach what this word means for him the last few months.
All Hao seems to need is help and be helped he has been. His Mom and Dad helped re-introduce himself to him before they then helped re-introduce the rest of his extended family to him. Yujin helped him re-learn how live again like what food to order, which vegetable he liked and which ones he should push to the corner of his plate. Ricky was a little less pushy, more carefree, but there was no other word for how he took Hao in other than to help him. And was that not a little sad? Ricky and Yujin are helping their best friend live his life again even though said best friend has no idea of their history together.
Hao smiles bashfully up at the flight attendant as he tells her, “Sorry, I must’ve dozed off or something—I hadn’t realized we’re here. I’ll be fine, thanks.”
The flight attendant smiles at him understandingly in response.
Hao would rather drop dead right now than be offered more help again. But he didn’t want to be rude so he moves, reaching for his bag and stretching his legs in the process. He then stands up to grab his small luggage tucked away as the last one in the overhead bin. “Thank you for all your work!”
The flight attendant nods back at him, as she lets Hao stroll over to the front of the plane where another flight attendant and the Captain are standing. He smiles and nods over to them too and then he finally steps out of the stuffy plane.
Freedom, at last.
Luckily, the airport has arrows and signs hung everywhere so Hao hadn’t actually gotten lost as he made his way to the rent-a-car booth. He felt silly as he finds himself wishing real life had arrows like this to show him the way as he’s sure it would make his life a lot easier, but then he realizes bitterly that not everyone needs a sign. Not everyone lost years of memory like him.
Hao sees the rent-a-car sign and figures that being bitter can wait until later.
As soon as Hao has his bags tucked safely at the back, the address entered in the GPS system, and is sitting in the driver’s seat of his rented car does the reality of everything he’s done finally hits him like a truck (ha, that’s a joke at the expense of the truth considering he had been hit by a truck. See, Hao still has a sense of humour!). He’s run away to a different country. He’s actually a plane ride away from his family and friends who actually knows him and could help him, and he hasn’t even told them what he’s done.
Shit. What has he done? What had he done? What is he supposed to do now?
But as the blood rushes in his veins and his thundering heart continues to beat, he knows he’s made the right decision.
Zhang Hao has no idea who he is, not anymore, and he knows he won’t find it in the small tidbits of his life that his family, Yujin and Ricky had been feeding him for the past six months. Because no matter what they tell him, no matter what he learns, he still doesn’t feel like it’s enough. He still feels like there’s a gaping hole in the middle of his chest and he needs to find out what it is.
(Hao knew he can’t really rely on himself to figure out what exactly he is looking for since he knows he’s missing quite a lot of puzzle pieces about his life, but he just instinctively knows. He knows he’s missing something and he won’t find it by sitting in front of the television in Ricky’s apartment and going to doctor’s appointments escorted by Yujin.)
With shaky hands, Hao starts the ignition and lets the whole car rumble to life, effectively calming him down by a bit. The GPS on his right tells him where to go and, like how unfair his whole brain had decided to choose which memories he could remember, he drives because that’s something his body does remember how to do. So he leaves the airport and gets onto the busy road of what he can only assume is everyone else leaving the airport, too.
At the back of his mind, Hao wonders if this trip will even solve anything.
Hao had found the notebook tucked inside a pocket of one of his coat that his Mom had grabbed from what was his old apartment right when they found out from the doctors that he won’t be getting his memory, thus his old life, back anytime soon. It was summer when the accident had happened so Hao actually hadn’t had a need for a coat until the weather started getting cooler.
Then one night while Ricky had brought him out of their shared apartment to walk around the streets of Seoul, Hao placed his hand inside the pocket to warm himself up and that was when he felt the small notebook. He immediately tucked it back in, afraid that Ricky would see and take it away from him. Everyone had taken it seriously when the doctor had advised them not to shock Hao with memories, to let it happen gradually. Thus, whenever there’s anything new they think might shock him, they immediately take it upon themselves to guard him (from what? Hao seriously wishes he knows the answer) from it.
Hao had waited until Ricky had fallen asleep before he had even locked the door of the spare bedroom—technically his bedroom—and then he opened the notebook.
The notebook was mostly empty and the disappointment immediately flowed through him. But Hao had not given up as he flipped through the pages again. Thats’s finally when he sees it—sees the one page nestled between the other empty ones. There was an email address, not the one Hao’s been using, with the password for it written down too.
In a hurry, Hao scrambled for his laptop as he shakily typed the email address and password on the page. He’s both excited and afraid of what he could see because this one things felt like it was just his to know.
When Hao’s laptop had finally opened the email address what he found were three things: two plane tickets to Vancouver, Canada bought in his name, a booking of a cabin, and then a cancellation of one of the tickets on the same day of his accident. That was all there was. No other names and no other clues.
Hao didn’t sleep that night as his mind went crazy with speculation: Whose second plane ticket was that? What was in the cabin in Canada? Why did he cancel the ticket the day of his accident?
And all these questions were the reason for how his plan had started taking place.
The cabin is right up ahead, Hao could finally see it. It looks quaint as it’s nestled under a mountain of snow. There was no snow in Vancouver, but as he went farther up north the roads starts becoming covered in white. Now he is sure he is actually near a mountain, or most likely on one if the elevation are of any indication, and it’s an amazing view to see the cabin just waiting for him, surrounded by trees covered in snow.
It’s scary now that he’s here. Hao still has half a mind to just turn back now, but he knows that if he does he would have to face his family and friends without anything to show for. He’d go back to being helped, to being hand held through every part of his life and god, he doesn’t think he can stomach that. So with a shaky breath, he continues on until he’s parked.
The cabin is pretty, is the first thing he’s really noticed. It looks cozy and he wonders for the hundredth time if he’s been here before, if he’s seen this place before, and if he was here with somebody else that time. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever find out.
There must be a fire going inside because there’s smoke blowing from the chimney. Hao is already standing in front of the door but then he stops and he furrows his eyebrow in worry. Why is there fire burning inside? Is someone else inside? Had he mistaken the dates on the booking? Is there someone else here? Had pre-accident Hao also cancelled the booking but it wasn’t noted on the email? Just as Hao was starting to worry his lip and wonder again if he should just turn back now to save himself the embarrassment, the door opens and smacks him right on the face.
“Hi — oh no, I’m so sorry,” a melodic voice greets him.
The force of the hit isn’t too hard, but it is enough to put him a little off balance. When Hao looks up from nursing his forehead, he sees the most beautiful man in front of him. Seriously, Hao is not exaggerating. He may not remember anything from beyond six months ago, but he believes he would remember if he has seen some more beautiful that this man with his black tousled hair and bright brown eyes before.
“Oops?” Hao says in response, smiling pleasantly and hoping he doesn’t look like an idiot. He clears his throat because the beautiful man is just standing in front of him, staring at him with his mouth slightly ajar. Hao figures he should probably explain himself before he’s mistaken for a crazy person. “I’m sorry I was just standing out here being a creep—I was debating if I should come in and check since it appears I might have, uh, made a mistake? My name is Zhang Hao and I had a booking? For this cabin too? Are you the owner? Actually, is there another cabin with the same address because if so I’m so sorry for—“
The beautiful man still is looking at him weirdly, but he opens the door more and gestures for Hao to come in, “You look like you’re freezing and I would really rather not let all the heat get out,” he explains.
Hao feels himself turn red in embarrassment. However, it is very cold so he didn’t even hesitate and steps inside the door, where the other man is standing. Hao finds that he is almost the exact same height as the beautiful man. When he realizes he’s been looking too much, he immediately averts his eyes away just so he’s not caught staring at the man intently. Instead, Hao looks around.
The cabin looks just as picturesque inside as it had outside with the fire burning, sofa covered with blankets, and a kitchen that looked like a dream. Then he realizes he is technically now snooping and that’s also impolite so he turns to look at the beautiful man, who now has his eyebrows deeply furrowed as if he’s analyzing Hao.
“I’m not a serial killer? I promise,” Hao blurts out and he inhales when he realizes what just came out of his mouth. But before he can take it back, the beautiful man’s face transforms as a smile spread through his lips. Hao counts that as an absolute win. “Anyway as I was saying, I’m sorry for just showing up here when you’re obviously all settled in. I must’ve made a mistake with the booking and really, it can’t even be my mistake since I don’t even remember booking this—“
“You don’t remember booking this?” Beautiful man suddenly asks, the smile now replaced with a confused frown.
Hao resists the temptation to reach out and card his fingers through the man’s hair, or to wrap his arms around the beautiful man. And he should really ask what his name is before he accidentally calls him beautiful man to his face.
“What do you—“ the man proceeds to ask, but Hao isn’t listening.
“Sorry, um, what’s your name? I just — I feel like I’m so impolite by not asking for yours,” Hao asks rapidly, unintentionally interrupting the man as he buries his hands inside his coat pockets so that he won’t make loud gestures in front of him, embarrassing him even further. “My name is Zhang Hao.”
Beautiful man’s confusion turns to what Hao thinks now resembles as worry. “You—yeah, you already said. I’m Hanbin. Do you—actually, Hao hyung, do you mind if I make a call? Just for a minute or so, I just really need to make this call. You can take a seat, make yourself a cup of coffee in the kitchen and warm up, hm?” The beautiful ma—Hanbin gestures to the kitchen as he takes out his phone.
“Uh, sure? I promise I won’t snoop!” Hao grimaces as he sounds exactly like someone who is about to snoop, “Besides your coffee and the cup, I guess? I need them to make coffee, so of course I need to touch—.”
Beautiful man—Hanbin, Hao reminds himself—seems to find this amusing because for a second he grins before his face falls again and he clears his throat. “Help yourself to anything, Hao hyung. I’ll be right back.”
Hanbin walks away hurriedly and there’s the sound of a door as it opens and closes in the background. Hao himself felt confused because one moment he is getting smacked on the face by a door, the next he’s invited inside to continue his rambling, and now he’s left alone to make a cup of coffee in a stranger’s kitchen. But as he hears harsh voice coming from the farther end of the cabin, he figures there’s no good time as now to turn and make coffee.
It’s been a long plane ride, not to mention the drive up the mountains and then he might even get kicked out later so he’ll have to find a place to stay. He deserves this cup of coffee so Hao will damn well enjoy it.
Hao finds a moka pot and after looking around he immediately spots the coffee beans. He carefully fills the bottom part of the moka pot with water, puts the coffee bean in the middle, and then turns the stove on to start his coffee. While waiting Hao walks towards the fire to heat up. And if it just so happens that it’s closer to where Hanbin is taking the call, then it is all just a coincidence.
Hao strains his ears trying to listen, but he only catches tail ends of Hanbin’s part of the conversation.
“WHAT— how has no one— fine. No, no, I won’t—“ Muffled by the door, Hanbin sounds like he is in pain, “—I can’t.”
But like Hanbin had promised, his call did only take a few minutes because then he’s strolling back to where Hao is standing awkwardly by the fireplace, trying to look inconspicuous as if he wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. Hanbin doesn’t seem to notice though because he just makes a beeline to the kitchen and grabs a cup and puts it besides Hao’s own one.
“Hope you made enough coffee for two, hyung,” Hanbin says and then heads for the sofa.
The other man looks shaken, as if his whole world had just tilted on its axis and he was left to grab ahold of something to keep him standing. He has his eyes closed as he covers his face with his palm, resting his elbows on his knees. Hao wishes he could do something to help, but he’s probably just intruding and the sick feeling of being someone else’s burden is back in full force.
“Hey,” Hao breaks the silence just as the moka pot whistles and he jumps to take care of it. “I’ll take care of that.”
Hao pours coffee into Hanbin’s cup and that’s when he decided that he should leave the man be. He severely wants to stay and drink coffee, but he knew he’s intruding and the man looks like he needs time alone to figure out whatever it is that upset him from the call earlier. So Hao put his cup to the side and places the moka pot back on the stove. He grabs Hanbin’s cup, instinctively putting the same fixing as how he usually drinks his coffee and cringes. Oh no. He didn’t even ask him—Hao really is not helping himself right now.
“Um, hope you’re okay with cream on your coffee since I accidentally poured some on yours,” Hao walks the cup and places it in front of Hanbin.
The other man moves his hands away to look at the cup and then at Hao, silent and intense as if he’s trying to figure something out. It made Hao nervous because he, himself, is still trying to figure things out after all. “Thanks, I—uh, I drink coffee with cream and two sugars,” Hanbin responds and grabs the cup by its handle before taking a long sip even though it must burn in his mouth. “That’s perfect. Thank you, hyung.”
Hao felt himself preen at the praise before he realizes that he should’ve been saying his goodbye rather than appreciating the praise. “Anyway,” he clears his throat and it gets Hanbin to turn his attention onto him, his eyebrow quirking in question, “I should probably go. I must have made a mistake with the booking.”
Hanbin looks at him unblinkingly and Hao can’t figure out now if the other man is trying to figure him out, or if he was trying to memorize his features. He hopes it is the latter rather than the former. Before Hao can feel too self-conscious though, the other man breaks the silence.
“Do you have anywhere else you could stay at, Hao hyung?” Hanbin inquires.
No. Hao figures he could start driving around until he finds a motel, a hotel, or a bed and breakfast. Or he could also just sleep in the car until he can drive back to the City tomorrow. It is getting dark outside and he hasn’t slept properly yet. “I’m going to head back to the City to find a hotel,” he answers instead.
“At this hour and in this weather?” Hanbin gestures to the open window where it one could see that it is now dark out but also see the fluttering of snowflakes hitting the glass. “I don’t want to open tomorrow’s news to someone finding a frozen body—your frozen body. You should just stay here until you figure out tomorrow’s plan. You don’t even have to share a bed with me. There’s another bedroom… I’m not sure if you knew.”
Hao had not. He really should’ve read the booking much more carefully. The truth is that he hadn’t because of the fear that someone was going to catch him with it and then he won’t be able to run away. Now, though, he wishes he had because he’s stuck in a country with his return flight not leaving for another two weeks. He could ask Ricky for help booking a flight, but just the idea of it makes him want to hurl himself down the mountain he just drove up in.
Between calling his family or his best friends for help to get back to Seoul or staying in a cabin with a beautiful stranger, there really should have been no surprise that Hao is choosing the latter.
(Hao is a sucker for beautiful men.)
Sung Hanbin. 24 years old. Born in Cheonan, South Chungcheong Province, South Korea. Older brother to one sister. Soon to be an official teacher at Harbour Dance Centre in Vancouver, BC.
Hao sits on the sofa with his legs folded underneath him as he listens intently to the way the fire crackles in the background, the every breathe of Hanbin’s words, and the intermittent whistle of the wind howling in the background. The cabin is illuminated yellow with the light hanging overhead them and there’s a warm cup of hot chocolate in his hand. For once in his (six month) life, everything felt right.
Luckily the two of them manages to grab Hao’s sparse belongings from his car right before it started snowing harder, the kind of snow that stuck to your clothes and melted until it seeped to the center of your body. They tucked the luggages inside the spare bedroom, shaking the snow in the foyer before they could track it inside the cabin.
“Stay the night? Please? I don’t want you driving out in that…” Hanbin had said, offering again as if to show how sincere he was. He looks like he actually cares for Hao and was even anxious about the answer he’s waiting to hear. “Please?”
“Of course,” Hao answers, eyes wide as he saw Hanbin’s smile brightened. “Thank you.”
After Hao changed into more comfortable clothing, he and Hanbin sat on either end of the sofa with the fire warming up between them. The two of them seems to just enjoy bouncing back stories, with Hanbin awkwardly introducing himself and a brief nature of his backstory. Hao listens, eagerly lapping up all information he could hear.
“How about you, gege?” Hanbin finally asks when their stories had finally dwindled down. It isn’t uncomfortable, just a companionable silence. But throughout the whole time it seems as if Hanbin wanted to say something, as if he’s itching to ask, “Tell me your story?”
Tell me your story. God, what was Hao’s story?
“You can take your time, hyung. I have all the time in the world, or, at least, the next two weeks.”
Hao has never had to tell his story before. When he first woke up, the doctors were there to tell his family and his friends what had happened. When Hao has to navigate through life right now, someone from his closest circle would always be there to explain what happened (the short version, of course). But he’s never had to explain himself, not with his own words.
“I’m Zhang Hao.”
“So you said already, hyung,” Hanbin’s voice was patient, calm and soothing. “Tell me something else.”
“Will you tell me something about you, too? In return?” Hao asks, nibbling his bottom lip. He’s a little nervous to ask, but there is something about the way Hanbin looks at him that makes him a little braver than he usually is. “Please?”
“Of course,” Hanbin nudges his socked foot on Hao’s knee.
“Okay, so—“ Hao took a shaky breathe in as loud wind howled outside of the cabin.
“Breathe in, breathe out, gege,” Hanbin nudges his socked foot on Hao’s knee again, a little softer this time. “You don’t know who I am. And I won’t ever judge you for it, hyung. We have unlimited supply of hot chocolate, coffee, chips… we can do this the whole night, if we have to.”
The soft way that Hanbin is talking to him makes Hao feel—even though they literally just met each other not a few hours ago—as if he was there for Hao. It isn’t the same way that Hao’s family and friends makes him feel. He can’t pinpoint what it is, what the difference was. So, Hao finally breathes in and opens his mouth to word vomit.
“I—I don’t know who I am. At least, not beyond who I was before I got into an accident six months ago,” Hao explains. He felt like he hasn’t spoken this out loud (because he really hasn’t) at all and now saying the words to the world makes it more real. “After I woke up from the accident, the doctors told me that I banged up my head pretty badly during the crash and that may have caused me to lose all memories.”
Hao distinctly remembers the way everyone’s faces dropped and even though it wasn’t his fault, he felt guilty. He continues on, “It was, just, uh, it was devastating for my family and my best friends to watch me look at them and have no idea who they are.”
Hanbin looks at him, his foot now tucked under Hao’s legs. “But it’s worse for you, isn’t it?” he asks quietly.
Gulping, Hao couldn’t look up to face Hanbin so instead he traces random patterns on his joggers. “I can walk, talk, eat and drink but I didn’t even know my Mom’s name, or when I was born, or who I was before I got hit by that truck. Everyone had to figuratively hold my hand while I was just… so lost. I felt trapped in my head, a fairly empty brain, mind you.”
And for the first time, he voices out loud, “I had to get away.”
“That’s why you’re here?” Hanbin quirks an eyebrow when Hao finally met his eyes. There’s no judgment there, though. Just kind, understanding eyes meeting Hao’s.
“Yeah. See, I found this notebook, you know? In one of my old coats that my Mom picked up from my previous apartment. Inside it is just an email address and a password. I logged in and that’s where I found the plane ticket and the booking,” Hao explains. He does not mention the cancelled second ticket because he doesn’t know if that was something he could even begin to explain.
There is something unreadable in Hanbin’s face, as if he’s had to school his expression into something more neutral. Hao wishes he could actually read Hanbin’s expression enough for him to know what the other man is thinking. Not for the first time tonight, Hao wonders if he would be able to keep Hanbin in his life as a friend, or if Hanbin would walk away from this with a funny story of that one time a stranger with memory problems walked in on his holiday and crashed it.
There is a tree branch hitting the side of the cabin, not loud enough for it to be worrying, but enough for it to echo in the otherwise empty place. Hao concentrates in breathing and the sound of the tree brushing the roof of the cabin to calm his racing heart. His fingers stopped tracing patterns in his joggers and instead found solace in the bottom of his pink sweater.
Hanbin is quiet on the other side of the sofa, his tucked in socked feet warm through the layers of clothing that Hao could make out (or it may just be in his head because certainly there was no way Hao could feel the skin through their clothes, right?) the way his fingers were moving beneath it. It may have just been a minute, or a second, or a minute and a second before Hanbin stretches his other feet so that his two socked feet are now nudging Hao’s crossed legs.
“What are your plans for tomorrow, gege?” Hanbin asks, the change of topic almost leaving Hao dizzy with confusion. Hanbin laughs a little when Hao makes a face at the question, but seems to pick up on the confusion his question had brought about. “I just—you ran all the way here to get your own footing and you find me instead. Don’t tell me you’re just planning on going back without… you know…” Hanbin stops, not finishing his sentence.
“Without?” Hao prompts, moving his legs so that Hanbin’s socked feet are now trapped underneath him much tightly.
Hanbin tries to kick him, not at all lightly that Hao felt himself wince and thank goodness it wasn’t his more… delicate parts that are on the line. So, Hao retaliates by uncrossing his legs, ungracefully he’s sure, pulling his knees up and letting his own socked feet pin Hanbin’s underneath them. He smirks as he watches as Hanbin try to kick his way out of this, but to futile attempts.
Laughter rings in the air, much louder than the fire and the wind and the tree branch combined. The two of them didn’t stop until they are almost halfway to the floor from their intense socked feet battle that caused them to slip down. Luckily there was a rug, because Hao’s back probably wouldn’t thank him for the position he ended up in.
“Truce?” Hanbin stands up and offers his hand to Hao—a helping hand.
Hao pretends to ponder the offer for a few seconds, but he felt Hanbin nudge his side so he cracks and takes the offered hand. “Truce,” he confirms, shaking Hanbin’s hand seriously as if it is a business deal that they were confirming rather than the ridiculous promise of not pushing the other off of the sofa.
The huge grandfather clock chimes 12 o’clock, shocking the both of them and causing them to snap their head back to look at it. Hao hadn’t realized how much time had passed by until he actually sees the time and finally feels how tired he really is. He tries to stifle a yawn, but Hanbin catches him in the act and raises an eyebrow.
“Time for bed, come on.” Hanbin declares unanimously, grabbing the cups from the coffee table and walking towards the kitchen. Hao follows and watches as Hanbin carefully washes them and left them on the drying rack to dry.
“Thank you,” Hao offers sheepishly, “You made the hot chocolate and you also had to wash the cups.”
“No problem, gege,” Hanbin grins.
Gege. Hao hadn’t immediately noticed when Hanbin started calling him that earlier and by the time he had, it felt awkward to question it when he’s been answering to it. He wonders why Hanbin is calling him this when they never discussed his nationality.
Actually.
Hao hyung.
Now that Hao thought about it, they have been speaking in Korean since he arrived. How did Hanbin know Hao was Chinese? Was it the name? And even if, why would Hanbin be calling Hao gege? And how did Hao know to speak Korean to the other man? Surely he is the first one to speak and that is definitely before he heard the other’s name. The numerous questions are making him dizzy and he figures that maybe he would just ask Hanbin directly.
“The washroom is over by the end of the hallway. It’s all yours to use to get ready if you want to take a bath tonight. I already took a shower earlier before you arrived and my bedroom has an en suite toilet and sink so I can get ready for bed there,” Hanbin interrupts his thought process as he walks towards the darkened hallway and Hao follows, halving his steps so he’s not walking ahead of the other man. “You brought necessities with you?”
“I, uh, not really? I kind of sneakily packed when everyone else was busy so I only managed to grab my clothes and personal belongings—“ he explains, suddenly feeling like an idiot for not having prepared at all.
“Hey, I wasn’t questioning you, hyung. No worries. There are spare everything under the sink, all brand new, so feel free to use them,” Hanbin pats Hao’s arm as he yawns, his hand lingering. “I’m tired so I’m going to get ready for bed, too. I’ll see you tomorrow?” The question at the end is pointed, as if Hanbin is a little afraid the answer isn’t going to be the one he wants to hear.
Hao took a chance as he replies, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The answering smile tells him that is the right answer. “Good night, Hao gege,” Hanbin whispers in the darkness before he turns to open his bedroom door and walks in.
Hao stands in the dark hallway for a second, just staring at the closed door and repeating the way Hanbin whispers Good night, Hao gege over and over in his head.
Is it selfish of Hao to wish that they could be friends? Hao hasn’t made any friends himself, not that Ricky and Yujin weren’t his friends because they are, but Ricky and Yujin were previous Hao’s friend more than they were his and most of the time it’s pretty difficult to compete with his own self.
Before Hao could do anything ridiculous like knock on Hanbin’s closed door and ask him if they could stay friends even after he leaves the cabin, he opens the door to his own temporary lodging and walks inside.
* * *
There was a fire blazing behind the brown eyes Hanbin loves with the entirety of his being, but this time it was not the kind of friendly fire that he would usually know won’t hurt him. Right now he knew that if he’d dare put his hands close, he was going to get burnt. There might not be a cure for him if that happens.
“Please, please tell me I’m misunderstanding this,” Hao hyung pleaded, eyes red-rimmed.
Hanbin watched as his fiance, the love of his life, paced around their apartment. His feet has been creating circles around their rug that Hanbin, if he squinted, see all the times he’s accidentally dropped chips on them. But Hanbin was helpless and he can only look at Hao hyung with his hands on his sides, not even feeling like he has the right to reach out. So he doesn’t.
“I’m sorry, Hao gege…”
“So you want me to, what, cancel the wedding, cancel the adoption, and leave my bakery?” Hao asked, sounding a little high pitched. He’s running his hands through his hair, messing the blonde locks that Hanbin loved so much.
“No! I just need this opportunity, I’d make connections and—“
“By moving to a different country, Sung Hanbin!”
Hao was not wrong and Hanbin knew that. He was asking his fiance to cancel the wedding they’ve already been planning for half a year, to cancel the adoption process they’ve already started, and for him to leave the bakery he inherited from his family and the bakery he’s worked hard his whole life to take over. Hanbin was basically asking Hao to drop everything they have in their life here, in Seoul, and follow him to Canada.
Hanbin was selfish and he knew he can’t ask Hao of that.
So maybe the answer was… “Maybe you should stay here, Hao gege. It’s not fair for me to ask you to leave your dream just on the off chance I’d be able to achieve my own dream in Canada.” Hanbin proposed. And he hated himself for not even thinking of the implications of what this job offer meant before he accepted it.
Hao shook his head, the tears now freely falling from his eyes. God, Hanbin wished he could reach over and wipe them away rather than be the reason for them. “What does that even mean, Hanbin-ah? You’d live in Canada and I’d live here, and then what? Tell me! Tell me what that means for our relationship! Forget the wedding and the adoption and the bakery—what about us? What about me…?” he asked, voice so little and so low.
“I—“ And Hanbin stopped. Because he hasn’t really thought of it. He has always just thought Hao hyung was always going to be there right beside him. Now that he was faced with the reality of everything, now that he has the option of moving and the opportunity was right there on his lap, he felt the magnitude of how monumental this was, not just for him, but for Hao hyung, and for their relationship. For the future of their relationship.
When Hanbin looked up to meet Hao hyung’s eyes, he saw his fiance look crushed. He stepped closer and gasped, a pain shooting through his own veins, when Hao hyung took a step back from him. It shouldn’t hurt this much, right? It shouldn’t feel as if your whole world suddenly tipped in its axis, spun too quickly before abruptly stopping on the opposite side.
“You… are you breaking up with me, Sung Hanbin?” Hao gasped, eyes wide and disbelief colouring his tone.
No! Dear heavens, no! Hanbin was just about to disagree when he paused in realization. Wasn’t that what Hanbin was doing without knowing he was actually doing it? He was not going to ask Hao hyung to give up the dream he had worked so hard to achieve, but he was asking him to cancel their wedding, the adoption and the rest of the future together that they’ve already planned. He was asking Hao hyung to stay in Seoul while he moved to Canada. And what exactly did that mean for them?
“I’m sorry, gege…” Hanbin doesn’t want to say the words out loud, but he was. His mouth was working by itself to break Hao hyung’s heart and his in the process. “I guess… I guess I am.”
“Hanbinnie?” Hao’s voice sounded broken. There was complete silence before Hao’s words broke him even more, “I’m sorry. I’m not the right person for you. I’m so sorry.”
Hanbin hated himself for being the cause of that voice, for being the cause of those tears, and mostly, for breaking Hao’s heart by not answering. He let him go, away from him, and he knew immediately that this was the biggest mistake of his life.