It's not so weird.  Not really, Bobby thinks.

He'd been shocked, even uneasy to discover how affectionate his group mates in Korea were; growing up in America breeds a sense of large amounts of personal space, and nobody seemed to have any in Korea whatsoever.  Donghyuk was always trying to hold his hand, Jinhwan wanted to kiss anything that held still long enough, and Junhwe just looked scary but still wanted to cuddle way more than Bobby initially considered necessary. 

So Bobby adapted in the only way he knew how:  By overdoing it completely, in order to prove that he could fit in with their expectations, and over time he got used to Chanwoo's grabby hands and Yunhyeong's lung-destroyer hugs and Hanbin occupying what Bobby perceived as his personal space all the damn time. 

But he's more than used to it, actually; he'd been surprised to find himself seeking out the contact on his own, liking the lack of machismo and the ease between them that came with a free reign of physical affection.  At first it was uncomfortable, and then it was enjoyable, and now it's habit.

It's not that Bobby minds.  He doesn’t. 

It's that Hanbin seems to regard any moment spent not touching Bobby, not holding his hand or carding through his hair or rubbing his shoulders, as time wasted, and Bobby is way more okay with this than he thought he'd be.  

So, he guesses, he's really not okay with how okay he is with Hanbin, because what feels weird is that he likes it so much. 

He likes sleeping in Hanbin's bed because Hanbin is warm and Bobby's usually (always) cold, but he does mind that Hanbin can be difficult to sleep next to.  He mumbles dance counts to himself in his sleep, twitches and tosses and turns, and Bobby is something of a light sleeper, so every time Hanbin makes noise, Bobby wakes up and says some rude words.  Then he drapes himself over Hanbin's back, his cheek against Hanbin's shoulderblades, Hanbin's comfortably nestled against his hips.  Hanbin will always fall still at this, smack his lips sleepily, and hum under his breath. 

It doesn't help that Bobby thinks Hanbin is cute, and it's probably not better that he tells Hanbin often.  And maybe he likes sleeping in Hanbin’s bed because Hanbin is cute, and it helps him deal with the fact that maybe his feelings for Hanbin aren’t entirely platonic. 

Hanbin wakes Bobby at some point during the night, and Bobby comes to with great resentment, mumbling something rude to Hanbin about beauty sleep.  It takes him several seconds for him to realize that Hanbin's not awake, merely dreaming, and the vindictive part of Bobby wants to shake him awake, because Bobby doesn't like being the only one awake if he doesn't have to.  If Bobby suffers, everyone suffers. 

It's only after his brain ticks over a couple times that Bobby realizes that Hanbin's having a very intense dream of some kind, making little noises in the back of his throat and shifting back and forth on the mattress.  Bobby pokes him. 

"Hanbin.  Wake up, you're being weird." Bobby whispers, and Hanbin lets out a quiet moan before rolling half onto his belly, his hips moving against the mattress.  Bobby shakes with a silent ripple of laughter and considers waking him even more seriously, to spare Hanbin the embarrassment of waking with sleep pants pasted to his crotch with , but something extinguishes that urge as Bobby props himself up on one elbow.  He can see Hanbin's face like this, watches Hanbin's lips part and his eyelashes flutter.  He looks pretty like this.  Bobby decides to let Hanbin sleep.  He can always use a little blackmail material, if nothing else. 

Hanbin begins to shift his hips more insistently against the mattress, letting out another noise, and Bobby's hand makes its way to Hanbin’s hip, though he clamps down hard on the urge to do more.  Hanbin is humping the bed in his sleep and Bobby really wants to help him out. 

He doesn't, though.  Bobby's a ert, but he likes to think he's a courteous ert, so he does no more than allow himself to sneak a hand beneath Hanbin's t-shirt to settle flat against his belly, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his fingers, the little involuntary movements of his abdomen as he works himself against the sheets.  For the first time in a long time, Bobby’s not anywhere near cold; he’s suddenly too hot and seized with the urge to get , but he masters that as well.  He keeps careful distance between himself and Hanbin, because he's starting to get hard and there'd be no way Hanbin could ignore that if he woke up at any point.  He doesn't want to distress Hanbin any more than he already does on the regular, which truth be told is probably quite a bit. 

Hanbin shivers, then sighs.  Bobby bites his lip, watches Hanbin twitch and fall still, with another thought to waking him up but deciding against it again for the sake of Hanbin's pride and his own secondhand embarrassment.  He lets himself lie back down, curling up to settle his head against Hanbin's shoulder blades but maintaining a safe distance between his and Hanbin's . 

It's none too soon.  Within a minute, Hanbin sits up with a start, glancing around the room and then down at Bobby.  Bobby doesn't move, pretends to be asleep, and Hanbin gets up to wash, still panting for breath. 

Hanbin's gone for long enough for Bobby to swiftly rub one out, and in the morning, neither of them say a thing. 

*

Bobby's surprised when Hanbin comes to him the next time.  It's usually Hanbin's bed they end up in, as it's slightly bigger, not to mention that Bobby is usually the one that gets cold, and Hanbin always lifts the blankets for him so that Bobby can crawl underneath, kick around until the legs of Hanbin's sleep pants ride up, and then stick cold feet on his shins. 

But it's not often Hanbin comes to Bobby's bed, and he flips the blanket up like it's his own and slides down under the covers next to Bobby. 

"This is a surprise." Bobby remarks, turning on his side to make room for Hanbin.  Hanbin grins; Bobby can see his silhouette against the window. 

"I was cold." Hanbin settles against the pillow, squirming ostentatiously. 

"Hanbin, we both know that's a lie, 'cause you'd have to have ice cubes jammed up your before you ever acknowledged it was cold.  Uh...you don't, right?"

"Don't be gross, I'm freezing." Hanbin snorts, shoving at Bobby lightly, and Bobby grabs Hanbin to blow a raspberry against the side of his neck. 

"Nooo, you're gonna get me all riled up and I need to sleep!" Hanbin whines, his voice too loud in the excitement.  Bobby relents, if only to prevent Hanbin from waking the rest of the damn dorm, and Hanbin leans comfortably against Bobby, throwing an arm over Bobby's waist, head tucked under Bobby's chin.  Bobby drapes his own arm over Hanbin's shoulders, and if cuddling face to face like this is a little more intimate than usual, neither of them say anything about that, either.   

They're excellent about not addressing things until they become serious issues, and Bobby is pretty sure this is going to become an issue sooner or later, because Hanbin's an emotional pressure cooker, and Bobby is the only one who can head him off before he explodes.  That said, Bobby's not really in a hurry to challenge this.  He's too fond of the way Hanbin's legs tangle with his, too comfortable when Hanbin's hand finds the back of Bobby's neck and the short hairs there for the simple pleasure of touching him. 

They don't talk.  Bobby stifles a yawn into one hand and instinctively brushes it over Hanbin's hair, cradling the base of his skull briefly before returning to its place over Hanbin's shoulder, and Hanbin sighs, sounding deeply content. 

*

Okay, Bobby thinks, maybe this is getting a tiny bit out of hand.  One of them is going to have to do something, and Bobby knows Hanbin well enough to know that he won't be the one to bring it up. 

He’s totally okay with the cuddling and the hand holding and the petting, but the grinding on stage is going to have to find some outlet, or Bobby is going to go crazy.  There’s just too much of Hanbin for him to handle without knowing how much of Hanbin he’s allowed to handle.

"So, have you and Hanbin sorted out all that disgusting yet?" Junhwe says casually, leafing through a magazine as he says so.  Bobby doesn't look at him directly, glancing at Junhwe in the mirror, and though part of him warns him not to rise to the bait, the louder part of his mind is white-hot with fury, but he doesn't really understand why.  Junhwe doesn't look up. 

"Nah, I'm saving myself for marriage." Bobby says, mastering his temper and controlling his voice.  He goes back to dabbing at his face with the concealing sponge, but his hand is shaking.  Junhwe shouldn't be able to agitate him like this. 

Then again, maybe it's not Junhwe that has Bobby so agitated in the first place. 

"Please.  You two are gayer than Byun Baekhyun suggestively eating a banana.  Look, some stuff is normal, but you two have some stuff to work out." Junhwe says.  "Watch, Hanbin's going to come in here from Costumes and sit in your lap and take entirely too long to get comfortable, and you're going to stare at him the entire time, and then he's going to hump you on stage." Junhwe purses his lips, and then flips a page in his magazine.  “Maybe we should buy him a hooker.”

Bobby throws the sponge at him.  It bounces off Junhwe's forehead, and Junhwe glances up at him briefly, his expression as stony as ever, as if he’s seen it all before and wasn’t impressed the first time.  Bobby's pretty sure Junhwe's facial expression only changes when he's pooping.

"I'm only half as gay as Byun Baekhyun.  The other half is almost as straight as Jiho-hyung."

"Almost, huh? So...zero percent straight, then."

" off." Bobby says, and Junhwe rolls up his magazine into a cylinder and hits Bobby with it until they're both laughing. 

Junhwe's prediction comes true within minutes.  Hanbin's wearing his Dumb and Dumber leather jacket and pants, his hair teased into a pompadour and slicked with so much pomade it could probably be classified as a new life form.  He's fanning himself with the neck of his t-shirt even as he parks himself in Bobby's lap, ignoring the armchairs around the room in Bobby's favor.  Junhwe glances at Bobby with a barely-raised eyebrow and leaves the room for Costuming. 

Bobby likes to make Santa Claus jokes when Hanbin sits on his lap, but for some reason his mouth isn't working, and his brain isn't helping either. 

"Get a room, will ya?" Donghyuk calls from the other side of the dressing room, and Jinhwan wolf whistles from behind him.  Bobby winks, cocky in order to hide how disoriented he is, but Hanbin says nothing. 

He rests a hand on Hanbin's thigh, curious to see what his reaction will be.  High enough to be sensitive, but not so high that Hanbin might read more into it than Bobby is trying to convey.  Hanbin shifts his weight around, but doesn't move away. 

"Hanbin." Bobby says, his tongue sweeping across his lower lip. 

"Hmm?" Hanbin says absently, tugging at a loose lock of his own hair, staring cross-eyed at it. 

"Nothing." Bobby says, squeezing Hanbin's leg.  Hanbin smiles down at him, and Bobby can’t help but smile back. 

*

They're all too tired to do much after the stage, every one of them starving, the van reeking of guys sweating in leather pants.  Hanbin predictably corners Bobby in the very back seat of the van, in order to lean against him.  This is nice, this is easy; Bobby knows where he stands here, as Hanbin's kickstand, resting together.  He doesn’t have to worry about what this means, because nobody’s being weird about it, not least himself.  In the front seat, Chanwoo has his head in Jinhwan's lap, and Jinhwan is tucked under the arm of a dozing Junhwe.  Donghyuk is stretched out on the middle bench, drooling on Yunhyeong's shoulder. 

Hanbin tucks a hand between Bobby's knees, and Bobby can feel how cold his fingers are through his jeans.  He can also feel something else stirring, and he squeezes his thighs together around Hanbin’s hand, wills himself to think about not that.

Bobby doesn't even bother going to his own bed.  He's in Hanbin's before Hanbin finishes in the bathroom, and Hanbin only looks mildly surprised at this.  He's still got makeup on, eyeliner smudged and smeared across his cheekbones.  His hair is damp from where he'd washed the pomade out hunched over the sink, and chunks of wet hair stick to his forehead, the rest of it standing up in fuzzy clumps from the friction of the towel.  Bobby wants to push the hair off his face, tangle his fingers in the wet strands, and he clenches his fist to keep himself from reaching for Hanbin at all. 

"You still have eyeliner on." He says instead. 

"Couldn't get it off." Hanbin says, frowning.  "I'm out of wipes, and this is as good as bulletproof."

Bobby gets out of bed and retrieves a makeup wipe from his own bag, and when he comes back into the room, Hanbin is brushing his teeth.  "Omf be jus mngt." He says around a mouth full of toothpaste, and Bobby rolls his eyes. 

“C'mere." He says, and Hanbin spits in the sink before standing up to face Bobby advancing on him with a makeup wipe.  It should be funny, even hilarious, but Hanbin looks cornered for some reason, and that's not funny at all. 

"Jeez, relax, I'm just gonna get your makeup off." Bobby cajoles, rolling his eyes. 

"What makes you think I can't do it myself?"

"Because you dicked it up once already.  C'mon."

So Hanbin turns his face up slightly, and Bobby folds the wipe into sharp corners, instructs Hanbin to look up in order to get all the eyeliner from his bottom lids.  Like before, it feels too intimate.  Like he’s testing Hanbin’s boundaries, to see how close he can get before Hanbin bolts.  Bobby scrubs a little at some leftover foundation Hanbin had missed on his chin, tipping Hanbin's face up even more, and then he realizes how close they're standing, how close Hanbin's face is to his own.  The way Hanbin is watching him with half-closed eyes.  Bobby's only just now realized he's cupping Hanbin's jaw with one hand to steady him, and he lets his hand drop slowly. 

"There." Bobby says, and his voice comes out unusually gravelly and low, "I think I got it all."

"Thanks." Hanbin says, after hesitating just long enough for the silence to become heady with potential.  Bobby takes a step back and tosses the wipe into the trash can, and then he's crawling back into Hanbin's bed, still very much wrong-footed, but trying hard to maintain his composure. 

Hanbin comes to bed shortly after too, but they're strangely clumsy with one another.  That's never happened before.  Hanbin can't seem to get comfortable and Bobby's too tired and confused to sleep, so he lets Hanbin adjust, squirm, wriggle, twitch. 

Eventually Hanbin defaults to the last time they'd slept in Bobby's bed together, front to front and half on top of Bobby, legs tangling easily, his face mashed against Bobby's chest, one arm slung over Bobby's waist.  His breathing slows after a few minutes of stillness, and Bobby thinks he might be asleep.  ing hell. 

, he is so whipped for this kid.  .  Hanbin's hand tightens in the fabric of Bobby's shirt. 

It takes Bobby a minute to register the rise of gooseflesh over his skin, and after another moment he recognizes the source as Hanbin's mouth against his throat.  His heart begins to race so fast he thinks for a moment that maybe heart failure is a possibility in one's early twenties. 

"Hanbin?" Bobby says after a minute, and it's embarrassing how high his voice is, even spoken so softly. 

"Hmm?" Hanbin hums. 

"You shouldn't do things like that."

"Why not?" Hanbin says, withdrawing a little.  His mouth is still on Bobby's neck, and the brush of his lips is so teasing Bobby can hardly hold himself back. 

"Cause you're already driving me goddamn crazy." Bobby's proud that the high note has left his voice, but his throat is still tight, his heart still bounding madly in his chest.  His hand finds Hanbin's wet hair and grips at it to steady himself.  Hanbin is practically vibrating with tension against him, but Bobby knows he can't be much more relaxed.  He swallows hard. 

"Goddammit, Hanbin, can I kiss you or what?" The words leave Bobby's mouth in a rush of air, before he can think better of them, and Hanbin tenses even more. 

"Yeah." Hanbin says, and Bobby wishes he could see Hanbin clearly, thinks it's a shame for this to happen in the dark.  His fingers slip from Hanbin's hair to his jaw, tipping his face up like he had earlier, and Hanbin comes to him, eager but too shy yet to bridge the distance between them. 

He feels Hanbin's breath against his upper lip, and he's scared he might wake up at any moment.  Hanbin's hands are warm on Bobby's chest through his tshirt, and Bobby is so, so screwed.  ed.  Boned.  Probably in every sense. 

Hanbin's lips aren't soft, chapped from stage makeup and soothed with lip balm that smells like medicine, but it doesn't matter when Hanbin grabs at him to pull them closer.  Bobby coaxes Hanbin's mouth open, and Hanbin moans quietly, his thighs tightening around Bobby's legs where they tangle together. 

"You're gonna ing kill me one of these days." Bobby rasps against Hanbin's lips, rolling Hanbin onto his back to attack his mouth again. 

"What?" Hanbin says, sounding dazed. 

"Gonna give me a heart attack," Bobby says, his lips moving from Hanbin's mouth to his jaw, "ambushing me like that."

"Wasn't an ambush," Hanbin says, "if that was a surprise to you, you're not very observant."

"Shut up." Bobby's laying on top of Hanbin by now, stretched out along the length of Hanbin's body, pinning him in place. 

But they're too tired to do much more than kiss, and after a minute Bobby rolls off Hanbin, and Hanbin finds his favorite comfortable spot in the pit of Bobby's shoulder. 

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd..." Bobby says, yawning hugely. 

Hanbin doesn't reply immediately, nuzzling his nose against Bobby's collarbone.  "You'd what?"

"I'd your brains out.  Go to sleep, Hanbin."

"We don't have anything on the schedule tomorrow..."

"Good night, Hanbin."