The bedroom is illuminated by the bright orange hues of dawn, most of the furniture streaked with gold. Hongbin rubs his eyes sleepily, rolling onto his side with the duvet tangled around his entire body, none of it staying on the other side of the bed.

The sunlight dances slowly on locks of dark hair a few feet away from him, the rays conjuring a magical halo around Taekwoon as he stands in front of the floor mirror, adjusting the knot on his favourite white spotted black tie. He fixes a stray strand of his pushed back fringe, checking the cufflinks on his white dress shirt before he would reach out to the shelf, sprinkling some of his favourite Versace perfume behind his ears. His black suit jacket rustles loudly as he puts it on, buttoning only the top button, leaving the bottom one undone with the expertise of a gentleman having all points of the suit etiquette memorized and seeped into his veins.

He turns around and glances at the bed, eyebrows twitching when he notices a sleepy Hongbin blinking curiously at him. Hongbin pushes himself up in the bed, crawling to the side, so when Taekwoon walks up to him to bend down and cup his cheeks he wouldn’t have to mess up his suit.

“Good morning,” Taekwoon says, pressing a short kiss to Hongbin's lips. He must have just shaved; his skin is smooth where it was prickly last night, the scent of his aftershave lotion still lingering there and mixing with his perfume.

“I stole the blanket again,” Hongbin says, closing his eyes and tentatively putting a hand on the back of Taekwoon's neck, careful not to mess up either his hair or his attire—Taekwoon tends to be sensitive when it comes to his appearance before work. “Thought I was getting better at this whole sharing thing.”

Taekwoon laughs softly, resting his forehead against Hongbin's.

“Because I kept pulling it back away from you,” he says, gently caressing Hongbin’s right cheek with his thumb. “But I’ve realized it’s too tiring.”

“Maybe we should use two.”

“Mm,” Taekwoon murmurs dismissively. “It’s good the way it is.”

He kisses Hongbin again, this time a lot deeper; he tastes like toothpaste and bitter coffee and morning and happiness—Hongbin sighs into his mouth longingly, the action feeling way too pathetic, even though he feels the corners of Taekwoon's lips curl up at it.

“Can’t you stay at home just for today?” Hongbin asks, pulling back, looking up into Taekwoon's face. His boyfriend lets go of his cheek with one hand to wipe at the inner corner of Hongbin's left eye, making Hongbin furrow his brow in annoyance as Taekwoon rubs the sleep off his face.

“You know I can’t,” Taekwoon replies, straightening up, lacing his fingers with Hongbin's.

“Workaholic,” Hongbin grumbles.

“Stop sulking,” Taekwoon says and pecks the top of Hongbin's head. “Good luck on your exam.”

Hongbin tenses up, his fingertips digging into the back of Taekwoon's hand, an intense wave of panic coursing through his body and making his heart race inside his chest, a lump forming in his throat. It’s not that he forgot about his Anatomy exam—how could he have forgotten about it when he’s been studying for it for a month—it’s just that he managed to quiet the threatening whispers of the anxiety felt over the whole thing, and now, with Taekwoon saying it out loud, the weight of the responsibility has fallen back on him, crushing his bones.

“I don’t want to do it,” Hongbin breathes, standing up jerkily to throw himself into Taekwoon's arms, hugging him close, elegant suit getting creased or not. “I can’t do it. I’m going to fail again.”

“No, you’re not,” Taekwoon says, burying his face into the crook of Hongbin's neck, holding him tight by the waist. “You’ve studied so much, you’ll be great. I trust you, Bin-ah.”

“Don’t say that,” Hongbin's voice breaks, and he keeps his eyes shut tight so he won’t tear up. “It’ll feel worse when I it up.”

“All right,” Taekwoon mumbles, pressing a soothing kiss to Hongbin's neck. “All right, just don’t be so nervous. I’ll be thinking of you all day. Call me as soon as you’re done, okay?”

“Okay,” Hongbin replies.

Taekwoon pulls back, smiling warmly at Hongbin, and while it doesn’t make his anxiousness disappear and it’s not an honest, happy smile, Hongbin appreciates the effort.

Taekwoon makes for leaving the bedroom and Hongbin keeps clinging onto him, holding his hand tightly as they make their way through the living room, Taekwoon having to put on his shoes using only his left hand. When he’s already standing on the porch, Taekwoon turns to Hongbin again, taking a deep breath as if he wants to wish him luck again, or maybe just say some words of encouragement. In the end, he only squeezes Hongbin's fingers still wrapped around his palm, and a moment later, he disappears on the corridor.

Hongbin flinches when he feels the weight on his shoulder, his mind getting forcefully yanked out of the dream.  When he sees Taekwoon's fingers on his shirt, he lets out the breath he was holding.

“Gosh, you scared me,” he mumbles, turning around in his chair.

Taekwoon has his brows knit in that ever concerned way that makes Hongbin feel uncomfortable for the sole reason of Taekwoon having too much to worry about in his life even without him. He must have just got home: he’s shed his suit jacket and his tie is hanging loosely under the collar of his shirt of which he has rolled the sleeves up over his elbows. His hair is slightly ruffled, messy fringe only a shadow of the styled up look he left with. And, Hongbin thinks, if there’s anything more breath-taking than Taekwoon looking sharp and ready to leave for work, this is definitely it.

Taekwoon glances at the screen of Hongbin's laptop, blinking back at Hongbin with a disapproving twitch of his mouth.

“I know,” Hongbin says, “don’t be mad at me.”

“We’ve been over this, Bin-ah,” Taekwoon replies, crouching down in front of Hongbin, steadying himself with his hands on Hongbin's knees. He watches as Hongbin reaches out to play with the silver ring on his left index finger, and says, “I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

“A part-time job won’t kill me,” Hongbin reasons, tilting his head towards the screen with a list of several advertisements. “I’ll be fine.”

“I literally just caught you knocked out on top of your laptop.”

“It’s finals period,” Hongbin shrugs.

Taekwoon shakes his head with a sigh and stands up, flicking Hongbin on the forehead playfully, earning a surprised cry for it, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah,” Hongbin says as he follows Taekwoon into the kitchen.

Taekwoon opens the door of the fridge, peeking in, looking for the leftover from last night, and Hongbin, shuffling his feet and biting his lower lip until it hurts, stands in the doorway.

"Woon-ah," he says quietly.

"Hm?" Taekwoon murmurs, placing the plastic box of fried rice on the counter, not looking at Hongbin.

Hongbin takes a deep breath, swallowing back the burning sensation that makes its way up his throat. He walks closer to Taekwoon, gingerly pressing a shaky hand against his back, on the creased material of his shirt for a few seconds before his fingers curl into it and a loud sigh leaves his mouth. Taekwoon freezes up for a second, turning around slowly, dislodging Hongbin's hand, but immediately taking it into his own when he sees Hongbin's expression. Hongbin doesn't want to cry, he won't cry—if anything, he's going to throw up from the anxiety, but that difference must not reflect on his face, because Taekwoon leans in closer, brow furrowed in a worried manner, cupping Hongbin's cheek with his free hand.

"Bin-ah, what's wrong?"

"I'm overreacting it," Hongbin blurts out, unsteady and choking up on the words.

"Overreacting what? Did something happen?"

"I don't— I can't talk about it," Hongbin shakes his head and steps closer, pressing his forehead against Taekwoon's chest. The long fingers in his hair soothe him so much he groans into Taekwoon's shirt, heart beating so fast it might break out of his ribs and move in with Taekwoon's inside the other’s body. "Can you," he mumbles against the white fabric, "can you just— kiss me?"

There's a moment of stillness, Taekwoon's hand halting in Hongbin's hair and Hongbin panics, the lack of the soothing caresses making his heart sink. Then, very slowly, Taekwoon holds Hongbin's face in both hands, turning it up and pulling him even closer, pressing his lips against Hongbin's.

The whimper that escapes Hongbin is nothing pretty or cute—it's plain desperate and miserable, but it encourages Taekwoon to open his mouth and kiss him deeper, one hand sliding back into his locks and twirling them around his digits, pulling lightly, because Taekwoon knows exactly how to calm Hongbin when he's upset. He lets Hongbin hold onto his hips until his fingers dip into Taekwoon's flesh, the sounds Hongbin makes turning more and more pitiful by the second.

With a last, careful bite to Hongbin's lower lip, Taekwoon pulls back enough to look at him.

"Better now?" he asks quietly, eyes shining beautifully as he searches Hongbin's face, but Hongbin shakes his head no.

Two big hands hold him by the waist as Taekwoon picks him up only to have him seated on top of the table, spreading his knees gently and standing between them, pecking Hongbin's lips a few times.

“Did you fail?” he asks quietly, looking up into Hongbin's eyes.

Hongbin's heart goes crazy, seemingly trying to suffocate him by jumping into his throat, sweat breaking out on his hairline as he shuts his eyes, biting his lower lip and trying to disappear. He soon feels a pressure against his forehead, Taekwoon's breath tickling the skin of his face, the tips of their noses touching. Hongbin's chest aches as Taekwoon rests his hands on his thighs.

“I’ve lost my scholarship, too,” Hongbin whispers, feeling alarmingly numb on the inside. “I’ll either have to pay the entire tuition fee for my remaining four semesters or… or I’ll have to drop out and pay back the scholarship I’ve used up during the last two years. I just can’t— I’m unable to do either of those…”

Taekwoon's fingertips dip into his flesh just a little bit harder than it would be comfortable and Hongbin's eyes snap open, his gaze tied to Taekwoon's when he pulls back a little, hands still on Hongbin's thighs.

“We’ll figure something out—I’ll figure something out,” Taekwoon says, and he means it—his eyes are hard and there’s determination in the way they shine; the caress with which he tucks a lock of hair behind Hongbin's ear ever so calming. He leans in as close as he can, lips touching Hongbin's softly, working against his as he says, “Stop thinking about it for now.”

It’s easy to stop thinking about anything with Taekwoon between his legs and him, with his arms thrown around Taekwoon's neck, chests flush, the kiss invading all of his senses.

Taekwoon will figure something out.

Until then, he will hold Hongbin tight in his arms and make him forget about all of his worries.