This chapter contains a WARNING for the use of ONE ABLEIST WORD. If this is upsetting for someone, please skip the part with the bold words.

Hakyeon holds a moan as Wonshik pushes the collar of his shirt down to his neck, teeth slightly scrapping at the sensitive skin. His hips involuntarily move to press down Wonshik’s lap, smirking to himself when he feels the growing bulge beneath him and the hands around his waist tightening, possibly leaving marks of fingers in their wake. While he’s normally not one to enjoy the marks left behind by his lovers – he refuses to think of judgmental eyes and disgusted scowls – he’s in a mission here.

His life has been a mess for the past week and he could use the distraction. Especially after finding out of Sanghyuk’s betrayal – why didn’t he tell him about that other boy, Ken? Why is he making new friends? Aren’t Hakyeon and Taekwoon enough? Is Sanghyuk hiding something else?

Wonshik is just perfect to provide this distraction; he’s clearly interested in Hakyeon and is very handsome. Very skilled too, once Hakyeon got him going, if a little too chatty.

As if knowing his thoughts are straying from the moment, Wonshik bites down the junction between his neck and shoulder; the sound that escapes his mouth is completely involuntary and too loud for a public space. Thank whatever inspiration had come to him when buying his ticket – he hated horror movies, with all their gore and nastiness and a great amount of nooope – for this movie in particular.

Sanghyuk is the one who loves scary movies and has the time of his life when the trio decides to watch one; Taekwoon is little more than a scaredy cat in these moments, and Hakyeon makes good use of his vocal chords at every other noise, which to Sanghyuk seemed to be the perfect opportunity to laugh his off, the bastard. Those are one of the few moments that some of the perpetual frown – he’ll get wrinkly so young – that mars his face softens and he shows the childish side of him. As much as Hakyeon hates horror movies, he’s learnt to appreciate them.

Here he goes again, thinking of the person he’s trying to forget; Hakyeon really needs to stop. He’s on top of a very handsome man, being thoroughly ravished by said man’s talented mouth and yet, he’s still thinking of Sanghyuk.

Goddamnit.

Call him an obsessive control freak, a dependent , it’s not like he doesn’t know it himself. Hakyeon keeps a tight control of his life, and he maintains such control by having 3 constants:

One: having Sanghyuk by his side.

Two: having Taekwoon by his side.

Three: dancing.

…

Wait.

Wonshik’s kisses don’t burn hot on his skin, not anymore. In fact, he can’t feel anything other than the frantic thudding of his heart beating against his ears. It’s like his entire body went numb with the thought.

Hakyeon thinks of his constants again, and comes back with the same order; first Sanghyuk, followed shortly by Taekwoon and his dancing. Then he thinks of it again, and again, in seconds that feel more like hours. He can’t remember the last time the order was any different. Taekwoon came first in his life, that is true, but Sanghyuk always seemed to need him more, from that time where he fought with fists a pain that came from the heart to now. Taekwoon is his lifelong friend, his brother in all but blood, and Sanghyuk?

Calling Sanghyuk a friend is… weird. They are playful and supportive with each other, yet… Doesn’t feel right to call him a mere friend. His dongsaeng? In a way yes, Sanghyuk is younger than him, even if his constant frown and height are misleading. They have petty fights like siblings too, so why when he thinks of Sanghyuk as a younger brother – like Taekwoon, who is so frail, who needs protecting in a totally different way – his whole being revolts against it?

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It is the first day he has free since the beginning of rehearsals; in all his life, Taekwoon never imagined those plays took so much effort out of someone, especially considering the way the actors perform, swift and effortlessly when onstage. His throat hurts and never in his life has he used his voice quite as much. He’s thankful that no one quite expects him to talk – a part of him knows that they don’t want to talk to him –, for he isn’t sure he’s capable of doing so.

For some reason, despite the throbbing pain and the tiredness, Taekwoon has never felt as… complete.

From as long as he can remember, Taekwoon has had problems with communicating. As a child he had no friends, and only his abilities with sports avoided the bullying that certainly would have come; yet, for many years it was considered a game for the other children to do their best in making him talk. Being the youngest of four and the only male, he was used by his sisters; a pretty doll for their playhouse. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded, yet... Taekwoon got used to be quiet. After meeting Hakyeon, someone who could see and interpret every twitch in his features, he didn’t have to worry constantly about being misinterpreted. The slightly older boy didn’t have such qualms either, talking anyone’s ears off at every given opportunity, carrying a conversation by himself.

Life in the theatre is a 180° turn. He doesn’t have much – or at all – experience in acting, which makes communicating with his seniors unavoidable if he wants to do his best. No one there is watching the way his lips press in exertion, or if he blinks a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ after a question asked. They all talk over themselves during breaks, and have no patience for insecurities. Their eyes follow him, the acting students measuring his every step, waiting for the moment he’ll fail, the experienced actors amusingly following those interactions. His head seems to be in a constant state of hurting and yet, it’s a good pain.

He’d always loved singing, music the balm which soothed his anxieties. Studying it had been obvious at a point in his life, and focusing in composition meant he wasn’t forced to deal with the same judging eyes that follow him now. He could spend hours on his piano, playing softly. It didn’t matter he felt like there was a piece of his self missing, he was content, and that was enough. Now, the exhilaration of performing is feeling this empty space.

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Somewhere in the campus, Hongbin hears a group of girls gushing about how much they missed seeing the Ice Prince’s pretty face and immediately heads to the B1.

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One moment the sun is shining above Taekwoon; on the other, it’s gone.

He opens one eye begrudgingly, wondering why it suddenly vanished.

Hongbin’s head is covering the sun, face shadowed as it is framed by a halo of light, all-encompassing beauty making the sight angelical; if Sanghyuk were here, the boy would have immediately wiped out his phone to record it.

“Hongbin-ah,” his voice sounds raspy, smaller than normally.

“Hyung!” a pair of dimples make themselves known, in a bright smile that overshadows the shiny sun behind him. “It’s been so long since I saw you! How are you? Is it true that you got a role in a famous play? Are you eating well? How about your throat, does it hurt?”

The rapid influx of questions isn’t normal coming from Hongbin, but it’s been some time since he last saw the younger man and admittedly, he is in a way happy that Hongbin seems to have been thinking about him, worrying even.

“Just tired.”

Hongbin snorts, and how even that can make him handsome is a mystery. Beautiful people are scary in that way… “Having to deal with a bunch of dramatic stuck up s it’s no wonder you’re tired. If it were me, I’d have already poisoned their sparkly water.”

An unexpected guffaw bursts through Taekwoon’s throat; he covers his mouth in embarrassment at the weird noise, feeling his cheeks redden.

The smile in Hongbin’s face widens, and he sits by Taekwoon’s side, hugging his knees. “I have a friend in the theatre department, and they said the gossips are running rampage; how you’re an intruder, how you seduced the professor’s daughter and she begged him to help you get the role, that you are in fact a chaebol that bought your place into the play…”

He can’t help but groan at the younger’s words. It’s not like he wasn’t aware there were rumors floating around; for some reason everything he, Hakyeon and Sanghyuk did was enough motive for gossip. People seemed to look at them like an exotic exhibit. To some point, he understood people’s uncertainty when dealing with Sanghyuk – the boy had a past reputation, and probably someone from his old school went to this University as well – and Hakyeon’s fame – he has been winning dance competitions since elementary school – but him? Silent, shy, dull Taekwoon? Made no sense in his head.

Ice Prince. Angel Voice. The Compositor.

Teacher’s . Arrogant Bastard. Retarded.

His face must denounce his unhappiness, because in one moment Hongbin is smiling and in the other, he’s above Taekwoon, legs on each side of his hips, hands on each side of his face.

“Those rumors are all bull, okay?! Hyung is talented and deserves to be in this play, no matter what the stuck-up, delusional gossipers say!”

Hongbin speaks with vehemence, a frown on his forehead and pursued lips – his dimples are also visible like this, and Taekwoon finds it funny, as he had to that moment associated their presence with a smiling Hongbin. He covers the sun completely with his body and the fuzzy fabric of his jacket brushes slightly over one of Taekwoon’s cheekbones, prickling at his skin. From this close, Hongbin’s eyes are slit like a cat’s and his unblemished skin almost calls for Taekwoon to touch. Weirdly, Taekwoon’s heart starts to beat frantically against his ribcage as he notices all these small details, and a sensation akin to anxiety gurgles in his stomach. It’s nothing like he ever felt before, not when playing, not when composing or singing. It leaves him panting for breath.

Cat-like eyes trace a path from his heaving chest to his mouth, dry and open to gasp for air. It could be his imagination or a change of light, but Taekwoon, in that one second, sees as those eyes sharpen and dilate, like a predator who is preparing to pounce.

The moment is gone when Hongbin notices what he’s done, all but throwing himself away from Taekwoon; the sun is sudden and merciless in his eyes, and the wind is colder than before.

“, , I’m sorry hyung!” Hongbin apologizes, clasping hands in front of his face. “, I swear I don’t go around climbing on top of people when they don’t want me to! , what the hell am I saying…? I mean, I just wanted to emphasize a point to you! Yes, you had this sad, awful look on your face and I know I can say sometimes, so I had to be sure you didn’t think that I believed any of those rumors!” he rambles.

Like this, Taekwoon can see the blush that spreads all the way from Hongbin’s cheeks to the tips of his ears. In any other time, maybe he would have found it cute, yet he hasn’t quite recovered himself, heart still beating furiously. He lifts to a seating position, a hand on his chest. Is Hongbin able to see his heart from his position? It sure beats like it’s trying to break free from its place. As always, the right words are lost to him.

“Language,” he whispers, sounding breathy to his own ears, “Hongbin-ah, you don’t know me.”

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Hongbin looks at Taekwoon, the Ice Prince, to see pale skin flushed brilliantly and red lips open slightly, wisps of platinum hair falling around his face like threads of gold that reflect the sun, and he feels a tug on his heart. Something akin to hunger boils in his blood, a deep possessiveness settling on his bones. This man who is as beautiful as an angel and as tempting as sin incarnate, untouched by the common, vulgar crowd, is looking at him like this: Confused and flushed, hand on his heart as if to keep it from jumping out.

Hongbin isn’t the romantic or clinging type, or even the jealous, possessive type, so all this influx of feelings is new to him.  His past relationships had, in fact, ended because his past partners had considered him too negligent on maintaining the relationship, too cold towards someone he was supposed to feel deeply for. They were always insecure – again, it’s not arrogance, it’s just how people react to him – about their position in his life, and in the end, apparently didn’t find what they needed in him.

Some break-ups made him sad for a week, others he couldn’t say he cared much; he stopped doing relationships when those became too complicated, instead preferring casual outings and sometimes a hookup. He isn’t by far a man like Wonshik – who he just knows wants to be courted and dined like in he novels he refuses to admit to liking – or a cryptid like Jaehwan, with his mysterious, existent(?) relationships.

Yet, he is affected by him. “I’m trying to, dumb hyung.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

Taekwoon’s face continues bright red.

“Why?”

The question is unexpected, loaded with more than Taekwoon can possibly know. It causes an internal struggle inside Hongbin as he tries to come up with an answer that won’t immediately tell his true intentions. He doesn’t want to say sappy stuff – the thought makes him gag – but if it’s the way to Taekwoon’s heart, he’ll have to cook something up, and fast. It doesn’t help that Taekwoon’s cute, confused, embarrassed face is distracting him from thinking.

“Caramel loves you, and I believe animals are good character judges,” he finally says, not heaving from disgust at the corniness, “I thought that you couldn’t be a bad guy, even if you walk around with that guy who always looks like he’s constipated or just murdered someone.”

Wow, really smooth Hongbin. Way to go. Go and offend 1/3 of the tight-knit trio like an , bravo.

A new sound takes him mind out of its self-flagellation moment.

Taekwoon holds one hand over his mouth to cover it, but that doesn’t stop the giggles that escape through it. Soft looking grayish hair falls all around his face, sunlight making the strands glow like sparkling glass, a sharp contrast to his flushed skin. His giggles transform his entire face, breaking the normally blank face to show a perfect – if a little silly – smile, eyes clenching like small moons.

This, right here, at this moment, is like finding gold at the end of the rainbow; an oasis after walking on the scorching sun.

It is probably the single most beautiful thing Hongbin has ever seen.

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Honestly, life is a little hard right now, but I found solace reading your past comments and writing, so I hope this chapter, while not very long, is satisfactory enough.

Again, every mistake is my own; no beta'd.

Stay home if you can. Take the vaccine. Wear a mask. Take care of yourself.