Chapter Text
This is the happiest Hao has been in a while.
If someone told him months ago that he’d be struggling to carry heavy boxes up the stairs of a rooftop apartment he’s going to share with his best friend of ten years, he probably would’ve taken it as fate and immediately convinced Hanbin to do it with him. Which is exactly what he did two weeks ago.
Their parents had already paid for their dorm rooms right after they finished the admission process, everything settled and decided. They would both live in the dorms, unfortunately not as roommates because the demand was insane, but at least they’re on the same floor, which means walking to class together whenever their schedules match and doing all the things they used to do during weekly sleepovers anyway.
Hanbin will still drag Hao into gaming sessions he pretends to hate, and Hao will still force him into new bl dramas he swears he’s not interested in. They’ll complain the whole time but always give in. Honestly, in Hao’s opinion, there’s no better bonding activity than lying side by side, throwing insults at each other, both affectionate and not so affectionate just to make the other lose, or dissolving into loud giggles when a scene gets too ridiculous. Hao always chooses the softest, coziest shows for them to watch, anyway.
That’s also how the idea of being roommates started. One late night, halfway through a drama where childhood friends move in together and inevitably fall in love because of forced proximity, Hao felt something click.
Having a painful crush on your best friend for almost two years isn’t exactly easy. Hao isn’t planning to confess, not yet, maybe not ever, but he decides he can at least be more obvious now. He’s going to try to be a little more honest with how much he wants to be around him, hoping Hanbin might eventually start seeing him as something other than just his best friend. It’s terrifying, honestly, but living together has to make things easier. Maybe it’s stupid and he’s just a hopeless romantic, but he can’t help thinking they might end up with the same kind of happy ending he keeps watching on screen.
Thankfully, Hanbin got way too excited about the idea almost immediately, and together they built an embarrassingly detailed PowerPoint presentation to convince their parents. It took effort, a lot of pleading, and more promises than Hao can remember, but they somehow managed to find a rooftop apartment about an hour away from campus. Not exactly ideal for students, but they’re determined to make it work. Anything to live together.
“I want to die!” Hanbin exclaims in Mandarin, dropping the last box onto the floor with a dramatic groan. A phrase Hao taught him, of course. Hao has spent years teaching him very useful phrases, but Hanbin, bless his heart, only remembers the worst ones.
A laugh slips out of Hao as he sprawls across the couch, cheeks bunching up like apples while he watches Hanbin suffer. He made the younger bring up the last of the boxes minutes ago, too tired to continue. Shoes scrape loudly against the floor as Hanbin drags himself over and kicks the side of the couch with one foot.
“Move over.”
Hao only shakes his head, not even attempting to get up. “There’s literally another couch right there,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“No, I want this one,” the younger insists stubbornly. Before Hao can even protest again, Hanbin is already grabbing him, lifting his head and shoving himself down onto the couch instead. Hao grunts at the sudden movement and immediately swings a hand up to smack his shoulder once.
“Ugh!” he whines, glaring up at him, though the effect is ruined the moment he catches the smug smile spreading across Hanbin’s face, followed by an infuriating little wink. “You’re so fucking annoying,” Hao mutters before laying back down, shifting until his head rests comfortably on Hanbin’s lap.
One of Hanbin’s arms comes around him automatically while the other scrolls through his phone. Hao fights the sudden urge to shove the device away. Pay attention to me, Hanbinnie.
Instead, he presses closer, nuzzling into Hanbin’s soft stomach with a quiet hum. Hmm… so soft.
Like always, he ends up melting into the feeling, rubbing his head against him like a needy cat asking for attention. These days Hanbin is constantly glued to his phone, so he barely reacts, unless Hao starts tickling him through the thin, slightly damp tank top.
“Stop it!” Hanbin laughs, squirming as he bats his hands away.
Tilting his head back, Hao pouts up at him, only to find Hanbin’s eyes still completely locked onto the screen. Curious now, he twists around, trying to peek at whatever has him so focused.
“So,” Hao starts slowly, adjusting himself, but Hanbin immediately lifts the phone out of reach. Hao narrows his eyes. “Oh, that’s suspicious. Sung Hanbin, what are you doing on your phone?” he demands, pinching at Hanbin’s thigh to force him to show it.
Hanbin just raises the phone even higher, laughing under his breath. “Mind your business, Zhang Hao. You’re so nosy.”
He absolutely is, and he has no intention of stopping. Hao pushes himself up, bracketing Hanbin’s hips as he leans over him, one hand planted on his shoulder for balance while he tries to grab the phone.
Cheating, as usual, Hanbin suddenly pulls him flush against his chest, the phone disappearing behind Hao’s back while he hurriedly hides whatever he was doing.
“Let me go!” Hao groans, struggling against his hold, but even in the middle of fighting him off, he can’t stop noticing every single point of contact. His chest pressed against Hanbin’s, warm hands wrapped around his waist, practically sitting in Hanbin’s lap. It makes his head spin a little, if he’s being honest. Hanbin might be laughing now, but he definitely wouldn’t be if Hao suddenly popped a boner.
Thankfully, Hanbin lets go a second later. Hao practically launches himself off his lap, stumbling over a few unopened boxes as he backs away just to breathe.
“You can’t just hold me like that, you weirdo!” he gasps, unable to hide the breathlessness in his voice. Fuck, that could’ve ended weirdly.
Hanbin blinks up at him from the couch, looking genuinely confused as he pushes himself upright. “What?” he teases, like Hao is even remotely in the mood for that right now. “You’re suddenly too big for hugs? You used to cling to me all the time in high school.”
“Well, we’re adults now and…” Hao trails off, words dying somewhere in his throat as heat rushes straight to his face. He lifts a hand to his cheek, checking it like that’s going to help somehow. “Anyway,” he says quickly, abandoning the topic before it can get worse, “what are you hiding on your phone? Since when do you hide anything from me? I literally know your password.”
Instead of answering, Hanbin scrambles to his feet, about to escape, but karma works fast. He kicks straight into one of the big unopened boxes and immediately collapses onto the floor with a loud groan, clutching his ankle.
As the amazing best friend Hao is, he starts giggling first before finally walking over.
“Ice, ice,” Hanbin whines, already rubbing at his ankle with a miserable expression.
Hao crouches down and leans closer, bringing his ear right next to Hanbin’s just to be annoying. “What did you say? I can’t hear you.”
Hanbin shoves him away hard, which only sends Hao into another fit of laughter. “You’re so evil! I’m going to die from pain and my blood will be on your hands, you maniac!”
“You can’t die from a simple ankle injury, baby,” Hao shoots back, standing to check if the bottles of water they shoved into the fridge earlier are cold enough. Obviously they don’t have ice yet. Stupid Hanbin. “Don’t start crying,” he adds over his shoulder.
“Shut up,” Hanbin hisses.
The water isn’t that cold, but it’ll have to do. Hao walks back and carefully presses the bottle against Hanbin’s ankle while the younger looks up at him with a dramatic pout.
Not the deadly pity face.
He should look away so Hanbin doesn’t manipulate him again, but he’s weak and ends up staring anyway.
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” Hanbin suddenly says, catching him off guard.
Oh. Good. No secrets.
“But promise not to laugh at me first.”
Hao’s mouth twitches, already threatening to smile as he reaches up with his free hand to brush Hanbin’s bangs away from his forehead. “Hanbin, I’ve seen you do the most embarrassing things. I would never laugh at you.”
“I’ve been using Grindr,” Hanbin blurts out.
Hao immediately breaks into laughter before he can stop himself. The loud sound fills the apartment, and through watery eyes he sees Hanbin’s expression darken right before a hand smacks his arm and pushes his touch away. Hanbin always comes up with the worst possible lies just to get out of situations.
“You’re joking, right?”
Hanbin bites down on his lip and looks away.
Oh.
Oh. He’s not joking.
The realization hits like whiplash. One second Hao is laughing because obviously Hanbin wouldn’t download a dating app, because Hanbin has never been that type, not in high school when everyone else was dating, not when he always said he wasn’t interested. The next second Hao feels something crack quietly in his chest as it sinks in.
Hanbin has changed. He does want to start dating now that they’re in uni. And Hao wasn’t even a possibility he considered.
He downloaded a fucking dating app first.
Still, Hao tries to play it off. He can’t let it show how much this bothers him. Besides, dating apps are awful anyway, everyone just wants hookups, and Hanbin will probably realize that soon enough and delete it. It’s fine. Hao’s fine.
He forces a smile. “Good luck getting a boyfriend, Hanbinnie.”
Since hiding things from each other has never really worked between them, Hanbin sighs almost immediately and tilts his head, studying Hao’s face, trying to read what’s underneath. A hand comes up to rest on Hao’s waist in a soft, absentminded gesture, thumb rubbing lightly through the fabric of his shirt.
“Come on,” he says, fingers curling until he’s lightly fisting Hao’s shirt. “We’re in uni now. I’m sure you want a boyfriend too, right? Let’s actually try and find partners and have the real uni experience. We can’t both stay sad virgins forever.”
“I don’t need anyone, because I have you,” Hao says, bitterness slipping into his voice. The honesty sits there between them, so obvious, and for a second he hopes Hanbin will hear what he actually means.
Of course, he doesn’t.
“But you’re different!” Hanbin insists, voice going oddly high. “We can go on friendship dates and stuff, but I can’t like kiss you or have sex with you…”
The words hit so hard Hao almost stands up and walks straight out of the apartment. For a brief, desperate moment he considers going back to his parents and asking if it’s too late to cancel the lease and move back into the dorm, somewhere far away from Hanbin and his stupid honesty. Hanbin says it so casually, like the idea of kissing him is ridiculous, like it’s something that would never even cross his mind.
Meanwhile Hao has lost count of how many times he’s jerked off imagining Hanbin’s hands instead of his own, how many times he’s caught himself staring at his lips and wondering what it would feel like just once. Hanbin always says they’re the same person, that they have everything in common, except apparently not the one thing that matters most.
“Okay then,” Hao mutters, not bothering to hide how fucking annoyed he is anymore. He pulls the bottle away from Hanbin’s ankle a little too abruptly and stands, heading for the kitchen. “I hope you meet someone you can kiss and have sex with. I’ll just be alone for the rest of my life.”
“No you won’t. You’ll find someone too,” Hanbin calls after him, his voice drifting into the kitchen, and it only makes Hao grip the counter tighter while briefly considering grabbing a pan and knocking some sense into him until he finally understands that Hao doesn’t want someone else.
He wants him.
When Hao walks back into the living room, he kicks a few boxes out of the way harder than necessary, making his way toward the couch where Hanbin is already back on his phone. The heaviness in his chest won’t go away, and honestly, the only thing that might fix it right now is curling up next to him again, pretending everything still feels simple.
“Hey,” Hao calls, earning nothing more than a distracted hum in response. He shifts closer anyway, settling against Hanbin’s side and wrapping an arm around him, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. “Since we’re obviously too tired to unpack, why don’t we watch something together? There’s this new bl that just came out and I think you’ll like it…”
He sighs when it becomes painfully clear the younger isn’t listening at all, thumbs moving quickly across the screen. “Hanbin, I’m talking.”
Hanbin turns toward him, pretending like he’s about to put the phone away, but the excitement written all over his face shows he can’t wait to get back to whatever he’s doing or whoever he’s texting.
“What?” Hao asks flatly.
Instead of answering right away, Hanbin fully faces him, smiling so brightly it hurts to look at. Who’s making him smile so much? He reaches for Hao’s hands, squeezing them the way he always does when he’s excited to share something.
“I’ve been talking to this senior from our uni on Grindr,” he says, words tumbling out quickly. “And surprisingly he lives around here too. He said maybe we could meet at a cafe. Do you think I should go?”
Hanbin blinks at him expectantly, but Hao already knows this isn’t really a question. It’s written all over his eyes that he wants to go. Meanwhile Hao just wants to stay home on their first day as roommates, curled up together watching a drama he picked specifically because it reminds him of them—childhood best friends slowly falling in love. Instead, Hanbin wants to meet someone new at some boring cafe and drink something equally boring, probably ordering wrong because Hanbin never knows what actually tastes good without Hao choosing for him.
Soon he’ll be too busy with strangers to even talk anymore.
Hao can’t stop the frown settling onto his face.
“Hey,” Hanbin murmurs softly, reaching out to smooth it away with his thumb. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to.” His voice drops, excitement fading almost immediately, and guilt twists in Hao’s chest because now he’s the one ruining the mood.
He really doesn’t want him to go. Not at all. But there’s no way they can enjoy a drama if Hanbin keeps thinking about someone else the whole time.
“You should go,” Hao says quietly, because Hanbin should. He should go and maybe realize he’d rather come back here, to their apartment, to Hao. The chances of that feel close to zero, but Hao refuses to admit it to himself. If he does, he might actually lose it.
“Right?” Hanbin perks up instantly. Then he leans forward and pulls Hao into a tight hug. “You’re the best, Hao. I love you, I love you.” He pulls back to press a quick kiss to Hao’s forehead.
The gesture makes Hao feel unbearably small, like he might melt straight into the couch from how warm and soft his chest suddenly feels, even while he’s actively sending the person he’s in love with on a date with someone else.
“I’ll buy you cake on my way back,” Hanbin continues, clearly trying to make up for it already. “What flavor do you want?”
A smile slips onto Hao’s face at his words, heat creeping into his cheeks as he momentarily forgets about the elephant in the room. “Pick one for me,” he says, suddenly giddy despite everything.
Hanbin nods eagerly and jumps off the couch. “I’ll just shower and then I’ll go. It’ll be quick, I promise,” he adds, still glancing back like he needs Hao to be completely okay first.
That has to mean something, right? The way he keeps checking.
So Hao doesn’t stop him. He waits in the living room while the shower runs, helps dig through half opened boxes to pick out an outfit, even fixes Hanbin’s collar before he leaves.
“Come back soon,” Hao says, waving as Hanbin walks down the stairs.
Afterward, he stays out on the rooftop, watching until Hanbin disappears down the street.