Ever since Sanghyuk took back the one part of himself he never thought he ever could, he’s been feeling a lot more confident. The nightmares don’t come as badly nowadays, and in the past two months, he’s never felt the urge to hide under his bed (literally) from monsters that should only exist in his memories. It’s a lot of progress.

It’s so much progress that he’s starting to feel bored having so much time to himself. He puts it all into his role as Hongbin’s protector.

I need another recipe. He texts Minhyun as he’s taking a break from the “Circulatory System” worksheet that came with his science textbook.

Egg wrapped in kimchi fried rice wrapped with seaweed. He gets a reply a few seconds later, because Minhyun never pays attention in accounting class.

Wow, sounds good. Then, Why did you even decide to take accounting? You hate math.

Sanghyuk grins at the, You know what? I have no idea. I don’t understand anything that’s happening right now. that comes almost immediately after.

He does make it for dinner, and it does taste as good as it sounds. He makes muffins for dessert – strawberry cheesecake – and they’re so decadent that Hongbin makes Sanghyuk promise to make it at least once a week. Sanghyuk had laughed it off, pointing out all the parts he could have done better, but he’s forced to concede once Hongbin starts poking his side annoyingly.

Sanghyuk does more homework after dinner, before knocking softly on Hongbin’s door and waiting for Hongbin to invite him in.

“What’s up?” Hongbin drawls, finishing the last of his coffee as he goes back to his worktable, leaving the door open behind Sanghyuk.

“Nothing,” Sanghyuk says softly. “Just thought I would come here to play some PSP.”

“Sure,” Hongbin smiles. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Sanghyuk takes a step towards the armchair before turning 180 degrees and choosing to settle on top of Hongbin’s bed. He stretches out (not unlike a cat) and grabs a pillow to sandwich behind his head. It’s only the third time he’s taken such liberties in Hongbin’s room, but he doesn’t know why he hadn’t done it earlier. Everything around him smells like Hongbin and not just Hongbin – it’s the smells of where Hongbin sleeps and picks out his clothes and works and dreams. It’s great, and so much better than merely interacting with each other in the common areas of the house.

He spent months not being able to even touch a bed. On some days, lying down on furniture belonging to Hongbin was the hardest thing to do in the world. But after he got used to it – He feels held in the palm of Hongbin’s universe, the way he sometimes holds Hongbin in the palm of his very own world. Holding each other, keeping each other up.

“How’s studying coming along?” Hongbin asks, making finishing touches on his photos.

“It’s okay.” Sanghyuk says absentmindedly. “Ah shucks, I just lost.”

Hongbin laughs. “Sorry.”

“Nah, this level is hard.” Sanghyuk replies, starting the game over again. “Work is okay. It's getting harder, though.”

“You’re starting on the high-school grade level, right?” Hongbin saves the .psd file. “I saw your textbooks on the table yesterday.”

“Yeah.”

“What subject do you like the most, so far?”

Sanghyuk pauses his game. “Probably history or physics, I think. They make sense.”

“I majored in physics. Did you know that?” Hongbin smiles at the bewildered expression on Sanghyuk’s face. “I topped the nation for the physics suneung.”

“Then…” Sanghyuk asks, confused. “Why… are you a photographer?”

Hongbin laughs. “Can’t I be both?”

***

Hongbin is really (like, really) enjoying the amount of skinship Sanghyuk is suddenly willing to extend to him.

It’s not like they’ve been zero touch this past year and a half, of course – Hongbin had been all over that idea once he realized that Sanghyuk wouldn’t break apart or die from a hand on the shoulder. But it was always him doing the touching. Sanghyuk doesn’t really return it, unless it’s just the brush of an arm or a high-five. Occasionally, when he’s in a bad way, he’ll reach out to grasp at Hongbin’s shirt, just shy of grabbing an arm or, for god’s sake, outright telling Hongbin that he needs a hug. 

No, Sanghyuk only shows how desperate he is for touch through his eyes. And it’s the most distressing thing Hongbin has ever seen, even now. Because he doesn’t know how to solve it, or make it go away. There’s not enough of him to do that.              

Regardless, it’s a surprise when Sanghyuk suddenly starts initiating contact. It starts out whenever Hongbin is stuck in a bad mood – Sanghyuk leaning against his leg during movie times or standing shoulder-to-shoulder as they do the dishes, two bodies joined by a perfect line from triceps to hip. But then, these occasions bleed into days where Hongbin isn’t even sad, where Hongbin doesn’t need any comforting. Recently, they happen almost every time they hang out.

Hongbin wouldn’t describe it as a… natural progression. In fact, it felt a little contrived at first, like Sanghyuk had something to prove. He had called Daewon hyung in a panic, asking if Sanghyuk was angling or overcompensating for something, or if he should do something to reciprocate. Daewon hadn’t had an answer (I’m not a mind-reader, Hongbin!), just told him to wait it out and see.

It’s been two months and things haven’t blown up in his face, so he’s ready to accept this as the new norm. There’s no loss for him anyway, except being reminded more poignantly every time they touch that he could never have Sanghyuk in his lifetime (but that’s something Hongbin can pretend he’s absolutely fine with and he is, as long as no one knows how much sleep he’s losing over it).

It’s great, being able to share this part of himself with Sanghyuk. This touchy, needy, insecure part of himself that can only be satiated by skin contact and good music. If Sanghyuk’s sudden change is behaviour he ought to be worried over, he really doesn’t know how he could bring himself to stop it. Hyo Shin hyung’s songs paired with Sanghyuk lying on his thigh, eyes closed towards the ceiling, is the most blissful combination he’s ever known.