Sanghyuk did make lemon tea.

When Hongbin arrived at the flat Sanghyuk’s parents rent him, he was welcomed by a smiling Sanghyuk and a mug of still hot tea that was shoved into his palms right after he took his shoes off. He looked at Hongbin expectantly until the latter finally took a sip of the tea.

“How is it?”

“Really… nice. It’s actually very good!”

“Call me chef,” Sanghyuk grinned, and Hongbin shook his head, smiling.

They have been sitting in front of the TV for hours now, Sanghyuk gradually sitting closer and closer to Hongbin on the couch as they played something that Hongbin eventually found boring. Sanghyuk opens a different game now, starts it, and talks about it so excitedly Hongbin feels the weird urge to coo at him.

(He mentally slaps himself a few times to refrain from that.)

“No, that’s not how you do it.”

Hongbin looks up at Sanghyuk with a questioning look. Sanghyuk looks patient as he scoots even closer to him, placing his hands over Hongbin’s on the controller. He covers Hongbin’s fingers with his own and blinks up at the screen, guiding Hongbin’s fingers to the right buttons, shooting once, shooting twice, but Hongbin pays no attention to the game, rather he watches Sanghyuk’s hands as they slide lower, holding his.

It’s a warm feeling not only on Hongbin’s hands as they melt into Sanghyuk’s palms, but also in his chest and head and stomach, but he only realizes the cause of it when he glances at Sanghyuk’s face. It’s the boy’s gaze that enchants Hongbin: something similar to happiness glinting in his eyes when he looks into Hongbin’s, then blinks down at Hongbin’s lips, only to meet his eyes once more before his eyelids flutter closed and he leans in.

Hongbin panics more than ever. He draws back, pulls his hands out of Sanghyuk’s grip, and backs to the end of the couch, only stopping when the small of his back hits the armrest. Sanghyuk opens his eyes and looks confused for a second before his expression turns into a disappointed one, making Hongbin want to punch himself repeatedly until his face becomes unrecognizable.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I–“ Hongbin stutters and he feels like there’s not enough air in the room for him.

“It’s okay,” Sanghyuk says, one of his hands reaching out for Hongbin, and a moment later he drops it back on the couch like Hongbin is a frightened wild animal he’s trying to tame. He smiles, but it’s nothing short of sad. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

Hongbin shakes his head briefly, and pulls his knees up to his chest to rest his forehead on them.

“Hongbin, I swear I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” Sanghyuk says, and for the first time since they met, Hongbin hears his voice shaking a little. “But please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re a good guy,” Hongbin replies, feeling the tears prickling his eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re… you’re a good guy.”

“Is that what’s wrong?”

Hongbin lifts his head to see a surprised smile on Sanghyuk’s face. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but Hongbin knows he wants to brighten the mood, and he appreciates that.

“Yeah,” Hongbin mutters, and Sanghyuk’s eyebrows twitch curiously. “You’re great and I’m… I’m not.”

Sanghyuk takes a deep breath and crawls closer to Hongbin. He examines him as he cautiously lifts his arm to brush Hongbin’s fringe out of his eyes, making Hongbin’s heart throb painfully in his chest.

“You’re seriously the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” Sanghyuk says, his fingers gently prodding at Hongbin’s now, and Hongbin holds his hand timidly, not sure if it’s right. “I wouldn’t want to be around you if I didn’t think you were awesome. I like you a lot, but if you don’t like me like that, I can accept that too. All I want is to be at least your friend, okay?”

Hongbin averts his eyes, and lets out a sigh to try calm down. Sanghyuk is everything anybody could be looking for in someone; in a friend, in a boyfriend, anything. But he’s too good, too good for a mess like Hongbin, for someone with so many flaws he can’t find a single positive thing in himself, because the defects overshadow them all. He has no right to expose Sanghyuk to all those miserable things when he’s so wonderful on his own.

“I like you like that too,” Hongbin mumbles in a raspy voice, “but I’m not sure… I don’t think I deserve you. I’m a failure.”

Hongbin’s head falls back onto the top of his knees, and he only realizes he’s gripping Sanghyuk’s hand too hard when Sanghyuk tries to move his numb fingers a little. Hongbin tries to let go, but Sanghyuk won’t let him.

“Okay, listen,” Sanghyuk says, and Hongbin peeks from above his knees, still half-hiding behind them. He sees Sanghyuk fixating his eyes on the upholstery of the couch, and he thinks he sees a small blush on the boy’s face too, but he’s not entirely certain. “This is going to be awkward as hell, but if this makes you snap out of whatever’s come over you, then it’s worth it.” Sanghyuk puts his other hand on Hongbin’s, holding his palm between both of his own, smiling a little. “The first time I saw you stumble into the classroom and drop your phone I thought you were pretty damn cute. And then you smiled at me, and that was where I lost it all,” Sanghyuk chuckles, taking a deep breath as if the whole thing he’s about to tell is incredibly cringe worthy. “If it weren’t for Jaehwan bumping into you, I probably never would have dared to approach you. And this is where the most embarrassing part comes.” Sanghyuk glances up at Hongbin who now rests his chin on his right knee, but then Sanghyuk returns to examining the upholstery immediately. He shrugs. “I don’t know. I kind of believe in all of these fate and destiny and whatever things and I just felt like… When we talked in the lounge after our first class I was so nervous, because–“

“You didn’t seem nervous.”

“I was!” Sanghyuk laughs. “I was, because there you were, and you looked breathtaking and you had that amazing voice and I felt this thing–more like thought it, actually–, that I wanted to talk to you all day everyday and get to know you and be by your side whenever I can, which was silly, because I only met you an hour before. So yeah, I… I’ve pretty much started to feel that it was… meant to be? For us to meet?”

Hongbin groans, his face distorting into a grimace.

“Yeah, it’s cheesy, and I’m sorry!” Sanghyuk laughs again, and Hongbin’s breath stutters, only halfway escaping his lungs. “But this and the fact that I think you’re a wonderful person are the biggest reasons why I like you.”

Hongbin looks down at their hands, his own still sandwiched between Sanghyuk’s, and he feels remorse creeping up in his throat, making him feel like throwing up. If Sanghyuk really means all of what he said (and he definitely looked sincere while saying those things), it all makes Hongbin the bad guy again. He never really believed Sanghyuk would find him interesting; poor nervous, lame Lee Hongbin who appears to be an insensitive jerk most of the time but actually has mental and emotional battles with himself twenty-four-seven. But doesn’t that mean that he’s never actually believed in Sanghyuk? That he’s never actually bothered to get to know him?

Hongbin’s eyes burn as he suppresses his tears. He buries his face into his shoulder and murmurs: “I’m not wonderful, Sanghyuk. You don’t… you don’t know me.”

“I know enough about you to have an opinion about you, and my opinion is that you’re just as much a good guy as you think I am,” Sanghyuk says, and Hongbin can feel his gaze on himself. “I know that you’re jittery all the time when you’re in public. I know that you put two sugars into your lemon tea, which I honestly can’t understand, because what’s the point of lemon tea if you’re going to make it sweet? I know that you straighten your hair because you don’t like it to be curly, but do you know how cute you look when a wavy strand peeks from behind your ear? I know that you’re left-handed, but apart from writing, eating and playing the guitar, you do everything else with your right hand. And recently I learnt to distinguish between your forced and honest smiles. Of course I don’t know you that well yet, but all the things I know about you now are cool, they’re good, because they make you who you are. Do you believ–“

Sanghyuk can’t finish his sentence, because suddenly two hands cup his face (an index finger almost poking out his left eye), and a pair of chapped lips gets pressed on his. Hongbin kisses him like he never did with anybody; drawing back and kissing again until his ears ring with his own heartbeat, until he can feel Sanghyuk’s arms around his waist, pulling him closer. It hurts–feels much like when every inch of your skin aches with fever, but it’s a positive aching, something Hongbin could never explain to anybody who hasn’t experienced it yet, and he doesn’t even want to; there’s no need for words, and that’s partly why he made Sanghyuk shut up. The other part of the story is that Hongbin feels incredibly touched and something more, something way more intensive that makes him want to hold Sanghyuk in his arms until he breathes his last.

“So are y–“

Yet another one of Sanghyuk’s sentences gets cut off by Hongbin’s lips on his and his weight on Sanghyuk’s lap as the boy falls back on the couch, Hongbin hovering above him, half kneeling on a controller as he deepens the kiss. He feels a smile on his mouth and another joining it right away, and it’s then that he realizes that he has leant into Sanghyuk’s fingers under the strands of his hair; it’s then that he finally breaks the kiss with the happiest grin that has probably ever appeared on his face.

“You know,” he starts, but his voice is too hoarse, so he clears his throat, not missing the oh-so-familiar mischievous glint flashing in Sanghyuk’s eyes, “what you said was really creepy. I’m glad you know those things about me, but, please… don’t ever tell me about them again.”

“I was trying to be romantic,” Sanghyuk grimaces.

“Yeah, well, don’t be,” Hongbin smirks. “Not this way.”

“What way then?”

“Just shut the hell up,” Hongbin mouths against Sanghyuk’s lips.