In a way, he was glad the man had to rush out to meet his friends and didn’t have the time to help him sort his hair right away. Despite having decided there was no way around accepting the man’s help, that didn’t change that he was still terrified of it and if he could he wanted to put it off as long as possible.

On the other hand, waiting even longer before it was finally over was its own kind of torture, because it gave him more time to think.

There was so much the man could do to him when he was that exposed and vulnerable to him. He had to actively force himself to focus on something else to avoid imagining all the horrible scenarios that could arise. Water and soap getting in his eyes and burning like fire, blinding him, was definitely one of the tamest possibilities.

His worst fear was that the man could easily push his head under water while he would be leaning over the sink, drowning him; or at least making him feel like drowning.

The thought alone was enough to make his lungs burn all over again, making him choke as if he was already breathing water again.

Trembling, he got up and walked to his window, looking outside in an attempt to distract himself, focus on something different. He couldn’t think of that, couldn’t let his mind go there.

Yes, there was a possibility the man could do that, but that didn’t mean he would do that. Until now, the man had never indicated that he planned on doing something as cruel as that to him, so the possibilities were at least just as high that he wouldn’t do it and really just planned on helping him get his hair clean and sorted.

Clutching to the wood of the windowsill, he stared outside onto the rainy streets. There was a relatively narrow garden patch under his window, the grass unkempt and patchy, surrounded by puddles of mud. A few old-looking lawn chairs gathered moss where they stood around an equally as abandoned looking table, and some broken toys lay scattered along the wall of the neighbour’s house. It was a desolate picture, and he let his gaze travel further, out of the little garden.

He could only see parts of the parking lot in front of the house, and only just hear the cars that passed on the street. Maybe… from the living room, he should be able to have a better view of that area.

Without a second thought, he turned away from the window and went to the living room, approaching the large windows there. As predicted, he had a better view of the parking lot and the street from there. But he soon realized that he could also be seen from there, and retreated to the edge of the window to hide behind the open curtains as he looked outside.

People hurried quickly out of their cars and into the buildings, trying to avoid the rain and not sparing a single glance up to him. Others hurried along the sidewalk covering themselves with umbrellas, avoiding puddles and the spray from the passing cars.

Unconsciously, he wrapped the curtains he was hiding behind around himself. It was a horrible weather outside, the one he disliked the most. Cold and wet and dark grey… He shuddered, glad that he was inside a warm, dry house and not out there.

A small, dark blue car pulling into a parking spot right in his line of view caught his attention after nothing happened for a while, and he watched a man climb out of it. His heart picked up speed before he consciously realized it was the man, and he stood rooted to the spot as he watched the man open the back door of the car and take a bag out before locking it and hurrying towards the building he was in.

He waited a little longer after the man had disappeared, indecisive if he should go back to his room or stay here. He was pretty much hidden, anyway…

He made the decision to go back to his room just seconds before the man’s key turned in the lock of the door, rooting him to his spot in the middle of the living room for a second. Maybe he could still make it if he hurried-… He couldn’t, the door opened just as he was stepping into the hallway, and he immediately jumped back into the living room.

The man had seen him, though.

“Hi, Hongbin.” He greeted calmly, not in any rush to take off his shoes and coat after setting the bag down.

His heart beat frantically as he hid behind the doorframe to the living room, but eventually he decided to peek around the edge of it into the hallway, to see the man wipe the dirt off his shoes with a rag before putting them away on the little rack under the coat-hanger.

“I didn’t expect it to take so long at Hakyeon’s, it’s almost lunch time now. Are you hungry yet?” The man glanced over his shoulder at him, adjusting his socks that had slid down a little as he’d taken off his shoes in the meantime.

“I am, a little. Hakyeon got us fresh fish from the market this morning; well, he bought it for himself but got way too much, so he decided to share some of it with us. If you ask me, he’s probably hoping there will be leftovers from whatever we make of it that he can have. Anyway, I’ll make sure there are. He’s probably going to poison himself with his own cooking skills one day, so I’d rather make enough for him to eat, too, occasionally.”

The man wore a fond smile as he talked about his friend, and he was a little fascinated by the emotions displayed on the man’s face as he talked about the other man.

He took a cautious step back, though, when the man picked up the bag he’d set down and moved a few steps down the hallway. He turned to go to the kitchen, though.

A little wave of relief rolled over him as he found the path clear to go back to his room, but then again… He didn’t feel the need to go back anymore. Rather, he was curious what the man was doing in the kitchen, and he moved noiselessly to the door that connected the kitchen and the living room, peeking around that edge.

The man spotted him there soon enough, but didn’t move to approach him as he pulled out plates, pots and pans, starting to prepare the fish for lunch.

“Hmm, this fish is kind of greasy… I think I’m going to try something different today…” The man mused at some point, looking up at him then.

“Do you like breading?”

His eyes widened a little, surprised to be addressed so suddenly.

“I-… I don’t know…” He really wasn’t sure.

The man nodded pensively.

“Alright… I’ll make some with and without breading. You can tell me later which one you liked better, if you want.” The man decided, pulling out more plates and things from the fridge and cabinets under his curious gaze.

“Ah, damn…” The man muttered quietly after a little while, shaking his head as he looked at his egg and flour covered hands.

“Hongbin, are you still there?”

His breath hitched slightly in his throat, but he peeked further around the edge of the doorframe.

“Can you help me? I need another plate, but my hands are dirty right now…” The man lifted his hands to demonstrate his predicament.

He stood frozen in place, not sure what to do.

“Did you see where I got these plates from? I need another one of these, I don’t want to stack the breaded filets on each other so the breading doesn’t get ruined. Could you get me one?”

He hesitated, his heart beating frantically, but he took a tentative step inside the kitchen. The man stayed where he was, keeping his hands over the counter so as not to get crumbs all over the floor.

He kept as far away from the man as possible without raising suspicions as he moved to the right cabinet and got a plate out, never leaving the man out of his gaze as he did so. The man didn’t move, though, waiting patiently until he brought the plate over, setting it on the counter just close enough for the man to be able to reach it, but not him, before hastily taking a step back again.

The man smiled at him, though, pulling the plate a little closer and placing the freshly breaded piece of fish on it.

“Thank you for your help, Hongbin.”

He bit his lip and lowered his head as the man’s words made his stomach swoop weirdly, and retreated slowly but swiftly back to the door to watch the man finish preparing the fish from there. The man didn’t ask him for help again, and he was glad for it; when the man started frying the fish, the delicious scent it emanated threatened to have him throw caution to the wind and lure him into the kitchen, and he had to make a hasty retreat to his room.

It didn’t take long after that until the man knocked on his door to bring him his share of the food, leaving him alone to eat.

He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t content with that. He wished the man hadn’t left as quickly, even though him staying usually meant that he had to wait until he got to eat; simply because he didn’t dare approach the food with the man that close next to it.

Still, he didn’t mind, he found. It was worth it, in some way. He didn’t like being alone as much as he tried to make himself believe, even if the only option was the man’s company.

But it was no use mourning that fact, either, so he simply sat down in front of the chair and started to eat. Both versions of the fish were delicious, both the breaded and the un-breaded filets. He wouldn’t be able to say which he liked more. He would have to tell the man he liked both equally and couldn’t choose, even if that might be unhelpful.

He finished eating long before the man came to pick up the tray, as always, and this time the man lingered before he left.

“Did you like it?” The man asked curiously, and he nodded.

“Both…” He added.

The man smiled.

“I’m glad. Any preferences, though?”

He shook his head.

“I liked both… the same.”

The man sighed, and he tensed a little.

“Same here. I was hoping you could tell me which one is better, because I couldn’t tell myself. Ah well, looks like I have to wait for Hakyeon’s verdict… Or just keep making both versions.”

The man’s tone was nonchalant and relaxed, and he allowed himself to relax a little, too, when the man shifted his weight and the tray to rest against his hip, his free hand resting on the door handle.

“Anyway… Uhm, if you still want my help with washing your hair… I’ll be in the living room or the kitchen, most likely; whenever you’re ready, just come over, ok?”

It was a question, but not one the man was expecting an answer to. Still, he nodded, his stomach once again in a knot.

With a soft parting nod, the man stepped back and into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.

As soon as the man was gone, he scrunched his eyes shut, his hands rising to his head and gripping his mated hair as he hit his head softly against the top of his knees. He was such an idiot; why couldn’t he just get up and get it over with? Ask the man to help him now and be done with it as soon as possible? Why was he pushing it off so long? It would just make it worse the longer he had time to worry and imagine all the horrible scenarios that could -potentially- arise.

He let his head thump against the wall behind him, not quite that softly, after letting go of his hair.

He was stupid.

And he could do nothing about it.

It took him ages to gather enough courage to venture out to find the man and ask him to get it over with. Well, that was the intention, anyway. He found the man in the living room, where he’d said he would be, and he was once again doing something on his laptop. Contrary to the last time he’d found him there, he didn’t seem as focused, though, and spotted him almost immediately in the doorway.

“Oh, hey…” The man greeted him, and he took a deep breath before taking two steps inside the living room, his eyes stubbornly fixed to the floor even though he would have liked to lift them at least a little as he prepared to talk to the man.

“I… I was wondering, if we-… I… I mean, if you-…” He flinched, his brow creasing harshly as he took another deep breath. “Can you… help me, now?”

The man closed his laptop slowly, sitting up and placing it on the coffee table.

“Of course. Any time, if you’re ready.”

He took a deep breath, despite his stomach being firmly locked in a knot that hindered his breathing somewhat.

“I… I am. As ready as I’ll ever be…” The last bit was barely more than a whisper, and he wasn’t sure the man had even heard that.

Either way, the man got up from the couch slowly, motioning for the hallway.

“Alright, then. Lead the way.”

It took him a moment to react, it not really sinking in just yet that it was really happening, that he was about to let the man near him when water was involved. He felt a little sick, but he did as told and hurried into the hallway, waiting around the corner until the man had reached it, too, and then heading towards the bathroom. Again, he waited for the man before he slipped inside, and waited in the corner furthest from the door until the man came inside, too.

The man pushed his sleeves up as he entered the bathroom, heading to the cabinet holding the towels first and pulling out three of the dark blue ones, which he set down on the counter. From the corner by the shower, the man produced a stool that he set down in front of the sink before addressing him.

“I thought it would be better for you if you kneel on the stool while I wash your hair. It should be more comfortable.”

He didn’t move from where he was, just nodding lightly once, and the man frowned a little.

“Hongbin… Are you sure you are ready and want to do this now?”

It felt as if his heart plummeted out of his ribcage in that moment, and he nodded vigorously, taking a few steps forward even though he felt like running in the opposite direction; not that he could go far there, anyway, but still.

“I… do!” He tried to reassure, closing even more of the distance between them until he was standing on the other side of the stool. The man was still frowning a little, but then sighed and relaxed his features again, reaching for the towels.

“Alright…” He shook the first towel out and folded it in a different way, then formed a U with it. “I’m going to ask you to put this around your face and hold it there, ok? That way, the water can’t run into your face. Can I show you how?”

He hesitated, but then nodded. Still, it cost him endless willpower to stay where he was while the man approached him, and he couldn’t help scrunching his eyes shut when the man lifted the towel to his face. He felt nothing but the towel touching his forehead, temples and jaw, though, and dared to open his eyes again. It was as if that was the signal the man had waited for.

“Ok… This is how you should hold the towel, ok? When you’re ready, get on the stool and I’ll put a towel around your shoulders, too, so we don’t get your clothes wet.”

He wasn’t ready, of course, but still climbed up on the stool. Once there, though, his bravery left him and he gripped the edge of the sink tightly instead of holding onto the towel, which fell to his feet. He could feel himself starting to shake and his chest constrict, as slowly but surely every single scenario he had imagined before started playing in his head.

He didn’t see the man frown and his expression becoming worried, nor did he notice him bending down to pick up the fallen towel.

“Hongbin…” The man called softly, and he did hear that, turning towards him with his eyes barely focused.

The man kept a short distance between them, he could tell that much, though.

“Hongbin, I can tell you are scared out of your mind. What is it that you’re scared of?”

A shiver ran down his back, making him shake slightly, but his vision cleared a little at the man’s gentle tone. He wasn’t sure how to answer him, though, or if to answer at all. His grip on the sink tightened, as did the knot that was his stomach. Forcefully, he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“T-to… To be-… drowned.” He rasped eventually, against his own will, and the man’s eyes widened in what could only be described as shock.

“W-what?”

He felt himself shaking again, his breathing unsteady, and he averted his eyes from the man to his hands.

“To be… pushed under water. With my face… so I can’t breathe…” He gagged slightly, memories resurfacing that made breathing hard even though he wasn’t drowning… yet. Why had he admitted that? Why was he allowing the man to know about that fear? He was giving the man information to use against him in a way that would affect him worse than anything else.

A slight commotion from where the man stood got his attention on the here and now again, making him look up quickly. He almost jumped when he saw the man leaning heavily against the counter, knuckles protruding as he gripped the fallen towel in his hand tightly, while his face looked so pale it bordered scary.

“Hongbin… Oh, Hongbin, I… I would never do that to you! I couldn’t- I couldn’t. How could anyone, I-…” The man shook his head, lowering it, and he was surprised to see tears gathered in the man’s eyes.

The man caught himself quickly, though, even if a tear managed to escape as he looked up again at him.

“I could never do that to you, Hongbin. Not that, and not anything like that. I would never want to hurt you in any way. All I want is for you to be safe and happy, and I would never do anything to compromise that. I swear on my life, I would never lay a hand on you to hurt you.”

Confusion was the main emotion he felt as he watched the man, who lifted his free hand now to wipe at his tears. He would never have expected to see the man crying, and even less so about anything to do with him. Yet here they were, and he couldn’t find another explanation other than that it must be him that had affected the man like that.

He hated it, though. He didn’t want to see the man crying, sad. It was wrong. The man shouldn’t feel like that, and definitely not because of him!

He averted his gaze, unable to look at the man any longer and lowered his head.

“I’m sorry….” He whispered, though he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. He really was sorry, though.

“Don’t apologize, please. You did nothing wrong…” The man replied, taking a deep breath as he shook the towel he was holding out and folded it again neatly.

Another deep breath later, the man looked up at him again.

“So, shall we wash your hair now? Or would you rather do it another time? I promise you, I would never push you under water. And we can take as many breaks as you need to. I’ll be as careful as possible not to get water anywhere else but on your hair and on your head where it needs to go.”

He bit his lip, still staring at the sink. He was a little shaken, but not in a way that made him want to run away and hide, like usually. It was rather in a way that made him want to go through with their plan to sort the mess on his head more than ever. Seeing the man cry, even if just very few tears, had changed something about the way he saw him drastically, in a way he would have to analyze further, but later. Now was not the time.

“Ok…” He nodded, and tentatively reached out for the towel the man was holding.

The man handed it to him quietly, and he tried to put it back to his face like the man had showed him earlier.

“May I…?” The man cleared his throat, and he looked up at him, giving a small nod when he realized he was offering to help him adjust the towel in the right way.

The man tugged it a little further up, a little to the sides, until it sat right, and with a deep breath he leaned forward, over the sink.

“Towel for your shoulders is coming…” The man announced quietly before draping the second towel over him, tugging it into place to cover his arms and neck.

“Are you ok? Can I turn on the water?” The man asked next, and he gave a small nod.

Still, it startled him a little when the water started running, though he was surprised it wasn’t splashing onto him immediately. Peeking up as far as he could, he spotted the man’s hand shielding the water away from him as he adjusted the temperature, and then the intensity of the flow until it was flowing rather softly from the tap, not hard enough to splash.

The next thing he noticed, the man was filling a small bowl with water.

“I’ll start wetting your hair now. Tell me if it’s too hot or too cold, ok?”

He nodded minutely, but he still jumped when he felt the water wetting the top of his head.

“Is it alright?” The man asked tentatively, and he needed a moment to process the question, forcing himself to relax a little.

“Warmer, please…” He eventually decided to answer, and the man adjusted the temperature.

“Ok, coming again…” The man forewarned, and this time he didn’t jump when he felt the water on his head. He merely tensed, but then the flow was gone again already.

“Better now?”

He only nodded, and the man filled the bowl again.

“Can you turn your head a little? To the left.”

He turned his head, and the man hummed.

“I meant the other left, to the windows, but it’s ok. Stay like that, I don’t want to get water in your ears.”

And then he felt the man’s hand on his ear, and he couldn’t help but twitch in surprise. He felt the water run over his head, soaking his hair and scalp, and he expected it to run into his ears at any moment, but it didn’t. The man instructed him to turn his head to the other side, and the procedure repeated itself. His whole head was getting wetter and wetter, and heavier due to his soaked hair, which the man was brushing forward pretty gently, not tugging on it even once. But despite his fear, he didn’t get any water into his ears. They felt damp on the outside, but inside they stayed blissfully dry, and so did his face.

He had to fight hard not to react outwardly when the man’s fingers sunk into his hair and brushed over his scalp, firm but gentle, sending a fierce shiver through his body.

The man stopped, retreating his hand.

“Are you ok?” The man asked, worry in his voice, but he found it hard to respond.

“Y-yes.” He eventually managed to croak, wondering why his voice was failing in that way.

“Ok, if you’re sure… I’ll put shampoo in your hair now, ok? Is apple-cinnamon scent alright?”

He only nodded in affirmation, still wondering what was wrong with his voice, and then he felt the man’s hands on his head again. He managed to hide the new shiver that ran through his body, only tensing slightly as he felt the man massage the soapy, fresh-smelling substance into his hair.

“I won’t take long, promise.” The man reassured him, but it was surprisingly not what he wanted to hear. He didn’t mind the man’s hands in his hair, not at all.

“It’s ok…” He whispered, hoping the man would hear it anyway. His eyes fell shut quickly as the gentle massage continued, and he bit his lip eventually when rather pleasant shudders ran down his spine, one after another.

He almost didn’t hear the man announce when he was done shampooing his hair, but he vaguely registered him announcing he’d start pouring water on his head again.

The first load was alright, still, but as the man started pouring the second bowl of water over his head, he yelped when some of the soapy water splattering into the sink landed on the side of his nose. The man stopped pouring water immediately.

“Shi- Are you ok?”

He took a deep breath, moving one hand to wipe at his face, then adjusted the towel again and nodded. He could tell the man was even more careful when he continued washing the shampoo out, but still, it splattered again, and he spluttered when the water came too close to his lips.

Before the man could even ask, he shook his head, muttering “Stop.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it probably wasn’t the man actually stopping pouring water.

“What’s wrong?” The man asked, and he shook his head again, feeling soapy water still running out of his hair into the sink.

“It’s splashing…” He eventually answered, and he heard a small “Oh…” from the man.

“One second, ok?” The man asked, and then his hands were back in his hair, gently squeezing some more of the water and soap out for a minute before he felt a towel being draped over his head, wrapping around his hair.

“Come up…” The man helped him as he sat up, and he blinked, a little disoriented. He blinked again when he spotted his own reflection in the mirror, looking weird in the fogged up glass and with the towels around his head.

Then he spotted the man standing next to him, looking a little contrite.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would splash this bad in the sink… Are you alright?”

He nodded, taking the towel he’d been holding to his face to wipe at it instead.

The man moved a little forward.

“Hold on, can I…?” The man reached for the towel, and he handed it to him. Gently, the man wiped at a spot on his forehead, brushing away some foam he hadn’t noticed was even there.

“Your hair is still really soapy, but we should get all that soap out of it so it doesn’t become even more matted… Do you think you can handle it?”

He worried his lip a little, eyeing the towel the man was holding.

“We can take more breaks, if you want…” The man offered, and he thought about it. He wasn’t worried about the water on his head anymore, it didn’t even feel that bad anymore. What he couldn’t stand was the splatters to his face…

Again, his eyes wandered to the towel.

“Can I…” He started, and the man quickly picked up on what he meant, handing him the towel back. Instead of putting it back how it had been before, he unfolded it, then folded it only once in the middle and covered his whole face with it before leaning back over the sink.

“Huh? Is that ok, Hongbin? Can you breathe alright like that?” The man worried, but he nodded. It was ok. The towel was damp, but he had gotten used to damp towels against his face from washing himself every day. It was alright.

“Ok, if you’re sure… I’ll take the towel off again…”

He waited patiently, and then water was on his head again. It splattered in the sink and wetted his hands, but that was bearable. In fact, he forgot all about it when he focused on the man’s hands on his head again, massaging, combing, protecting his ears. Until he felt him squeeze the rest water out of his hair eventually, brushing it back again.

“We’re done with the shampoo; your hair is clean.” The man announced eventually, and he sat up carefully. The room had gotten darker around them since he’d last looked up, was the first thing he noticed.

The second was a drop of water coming loose from his hairline and starting to run down his forehead. It didn’t go far, though, the man wiping it away quickly and wrapping the towel that had been on his shoulders around his head to trap the wet strands.

“Was that alright?”

He nodded.

“Do you think you could endure that a little while longer, like that?” The man motioned at the towel in his hands. “It’s just, if you could, I would wash your hair again real quick with some conditioner, which would help immensely later, to untangle all the knots and brush it…”

He only thought about it for a split second before he nodded. He could endure the water flowing over his head when it was the man washing his hair.

He didn’t hesitate putting the towel in front of his face again and leaning over the sink, but he could imagine the face of surprise on the man, based on the little noise he made. The man was there quickly, though, unwrapping the towel again and uncapping a bottle before working another substance into his hair. This one didn’t foam, he could tell, but it smelled just as nice. And it felt nice, how the man’s fingertips caressed his head again, especially behind his ears. He bit his lip hard, eyes scrunched shut to avoid letting the noise that was building up in his throat out.

All too soon, the man was done washing the conditioner out of his hair, too, and this time when he sat up, he felt a little wobbly. The man had the lights in the room in the meantime, since it was almost dark outside now, and he blinked against the bright, artificial light, his eyes taking longer to adjust.

“Do you want to dry your hair on your own, or can I help you?” The man asked gently, but all he was able to do was nod. The man interpreted it as the ok to help him; which it had been, too.

Indicating him to tilt his head back a little, he unwrapped the towel from his head and started ruffling his hair carefully with it. It was a weird sensation, but it wasn’t bad. It left him… almost giddy, if he could even feel like that.

“We should let it dry like this instead of using the drier for now… That way, it’ll be easier to brush. What do you say I make us a quick dinner now and we untangle your hair afterwards?”

He didn’t object, and after the man had given him a dry towel to put around his shoulders to keep his hair from dripping all over him, he stumbled back to his room for the time being, where he flopped down on his blanket and for the first time felt how tired he was.

He had worried for nothing, he found. Neither did the man torture him, nor had washing his hair been as horrible as he’d thought it would be in general.

Lazily, he reached up with the towel to dry his ears, at least their outside, first. He could tell his hair was still a mess, but at least it was a somewhat clean mess now. And it smelled good.

In fact, his whole head felt good, too, despite being wet. And he knew exactly why. The man’s hands had felt heavenly as they massaged his scalp, truly. There was no way he could deny that to himself. He actively hoped this wasn’t the only time the man would help him wash his hair, too.

He huffed to himself.

About an hour ago, his thoughts had very much been the opposite of now! Then again, back then he hadn’t known how gentle the man would be, and how good it could feel to have his hands in his hair. Nor had he had any actual proof that the man wasn’t a monster with the sole purpose to do him harm.

Well, he hadn’t actually thought like that about the man anymore, but one could never be cautious enough. But seeing the man tear up there…

He shuddered, the memory not sitting well with him. There was a weird feeling in his chest when he remembered the sight of tears in the man’s eyes, and he hated it. He didn’t want to think about it. But it was also that sight that made him see the man in a new light, somehow. At least slightly. It was as if that was the first actual proof he needed to see that the man wasn’t completely cold-hearted. Now he could believe at least that.

His thoughts were interrupted by the man knocking, and he invited him in.

“Thank you…” He thanked the man quietly as he put the tray down, and his stomach once again did that weird swooping feeling it had earlier when the man had thanked him for his help, when he saw the surprised yet happy expression on the man’s face that quickly melted into a warm smile.

“You’re welcome. Enjoy!”

The man left again all too quickly, and he focused on eating. He could tell it was a quickly prepared meal, but it was no less delicious or filling. It was quick to eat, too, though, and he finished it in no time, once again leaving him with nothing to do.

For a little while, he sat trying to dry his hair further, but he quickly got bored of that. He couldn’t wait to have the man help him with that again.

Then again… He didn’t have to wait. Of course, he could wait until the man came to pick up his tray and then go to him afterwards for help, but… He could also bring the tray to the kitchen himself and see if he found the man on the way. It would be less work for the man; surely he wouldn’t mind?

His resolve was set pretty quickly, and he put his plan into action. He found the man lying on the couch in the living room, but he either didn’t notice him passing by the open door or chose not to react. He left the tray on the counter in the kitchen, where he found only little space between dirty dishes and open packets of ingredients that hadn’t been put away again. The chaos made him flinch and he hurried out of the kitchen, finding himself quickly in the door to the living room.

There, he halted, his resolve beginning to falter. The man was distracted and didn’t notice him, and minutes passed where he simply stood there and waited, growing more and more anxious with every second that passed. If he didn’t do anything, the time would come where the man usually went and picked up his tray, and he would still be standing there.

He started to wonder if it had been a good idea to bring the tray to the kitchen in the first place, and if it wouldn’t have been better to just wait, like usual. Quickly, his thoughts began to spiral, picturing multiple scenarios of what could happen now, and what could have happened if his actions had been different before. It was a toxic spiral that he found himself caught in way too often, and it caused him to miss the first time the man called his name.

“Hongbin? Are you alright?”

He jumped, startled out of his thoughts, and saw the man already sat up on the couch, eyeing him with a worried expression. Involuntarily, he took a step back into the hallway, his heart speeding up uncontrollably, and the urge to run back to his room overcame him. He didn’t give in, though, clutching the edge of the doorframe tightly to keep himself from running away.

“I-… yes. I… I was wondering… Can we… I mean, my hair, it’s dry…” He stuttered, and the man’s features relaxed.

“You mean we should go on and brush it now?”

He took a deep breath, relaxing a little as he exhaled.

“Y-yes…”

The man nodded pensively.

“Ok… Want to come here and sit down while I get a brush and comb? It’s more comfortable here than in the bathroom, and since it might take us a while…”

He had to take another deep breath to steel himself before he stepped into the living room, approaching the couch after the man trailed off. He still made sure to keep a relatively fair distance between him and the man as the latter got up to go get the things he’d said he would. He made no move to sit down, though, waiting for the man to return.

The man didn’t comment on it as he came back in, sitting down in his usual spot on the couch and patting the space beside him.

“You can sit down here, so we can get started…” The man invited calmly, but still, he hesitated. He didn’t want to sit on that couch.

His eyes remained trained on the floor next to the man’s feet as he fought to keep his throat from closing up with dread while he sorted his thoughts and what he wanted to say.

“I-… I’d rather… I mean, it’s better if I just-…” He exhaled deeply motioning at the floor in front of the couch. “It’s… better if I sit on the floor…”

The man nodded calmly.

“You can sit wherever you want to. Do you want a pillow to sit on?”

He shook his head, quiet but decidedly, and eventually approached the man to sit down on the floor at his feet. He was so stiff and nervous, it was a wonder he managed to move at all, and having the man behind him wasn’t helping. He hadn’t even been this nervous before the man helped him wash his hair!

Well, ok, maybe he had been. Actually, he definitely had been, but his nervousness had evaporated quickly when the man had actually started washing his hair, replaced and overwhelmed by the pleasant feeling of the man’s hands in his hair, practically caressing his head. It were those thoughts that helped him relax, and only when he had he noticed the man had yet to move behind him, waiting patiently.

“Better now? Is it ok to start?” The man asked softly, and he nodded minutely.

“Ok. I’ll just… check how we should go about it first. I’ll touch your head now, ok?”

Again, he nodded, grateful the man told him once again when he would be touching him instead of just going in. As much as it became bearable and even nice after a while, it was hard to tolerate his touch at first even with the warning; not knowing when the touch would come when he couldn’t see it was one of the things that put him on edge, and the man announcing it before he touched him minimized at least that stress factor.

Again, though, it didn’t take long before he got used to the man’s hands running through his hair, gathering it, parting it, sorting strands from one side to the other.

“Your hair is really matted, even now after washing it. I’ll try very hard not to hurt you, but I can’t guarantee that I won’t get stuck with the brush or comb eventually and tug on a few strands accidentally.” The man announced after a little while, one hand coming to rest lightly on his shoulder.

“I know…” He answered quietly, more distracted by the warmth of the man’s hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but he thought he might not hate it, even if it was a foreign touch.

“Ok, then. Let’s see what we can do.”

He couldn’t avoid his ears twitching with a bout of irritation when he felt the brush tug on his hair at first, but he quickly got used to it. It didn’t exactly hurt when the brush got stuck, it was merely a little unpleasant. After a while, though, he got so used to it he barely felt it anymore.

They sat in silence, his thoughts focusing on everything and nothing while he felt the man work his way through the mess he called his hair. An hour passed, maybe two or three; he had no idea. He didn’t care, either. As time passed, the tugs on his hair became fewer, the brushstrokes longer, the man’s hands slipped through the strands easier; it bordered hypnotizing. He certainly felt content as he sat there, lost in the feeling of the brush and hands in his hair, sorting it only, eventually, as no more tangles seemed to stop them. He didn’t want the feeling to stop, reveling in the tender touches that sorted and ruffled and sorted his hair again, especially at the base of his ears.

Shudder after shudder, exceedingly pleasant in nature, ran through his body until he felt as if his whole body was vibrating.

Actually, it was, and the realization was like a bucket of ice water dumped over him. A fear so potent like he hadn’t felt since he’d woken up shackled in the cage he was supposed to die in at the shelter slammed into him, and with a lightning fast movement that didn’t even register with himself he jumped, turned around and blindly bit the first thing he could reach.

A gush of a warm liquid leaving a coppery taste on his tongue brought everything back into focus like yet another bucket of ice water, and he scrambled away hastily just as a pained cry reached his ears.

Bile rose in his throat as he realized what he’d done, fear rooted deep in his bones as he did the only thing he knew to do in that moment; he ran.

The short distance to his room down the hallway was nowhere near far enough away to appease him, and he hastily hid in his corner, even if it provided no real shelter. Curled up tightly in the blanket he’d automatically snatched up, he waited for the worst, anxious tears and panicked sobs blinding and deafening him to the world around him that he was sure he would be forced to leave all too soon.

*#*#*#*

Taekwoon sat staring at his bleeding hand, his face contorted in a mixture of shock and pain, unable to process what just happened.

His hand throbbed violently, four deep punctures -two on each side- oozing blood at an alarming rate. Acting more on instinct than anything else, Taekwoon eventually rushed to the kitchen, holding his bleeding hand over the sink and rinsing it under a stream of cold water. He hissed as the water burned in the wounds, turning a deep crimson as it washed the blood away.

The bleeding eventually lessened, even if the wounds throbbed just as painfully as ever as he turned off the water and wrapped a clean dishtowel around his hand.

What had gotten into Hongbin all of a sudden? One moment he was purring, leaning into his touch, even, and the next he turned around and sank a set of vicious fangs into Taekwoon’s hand that he hadn’t even known he had.

Clenching his teeth tightly, Taekwoon made his way to the bathroom, hoping to find the first aid kit quickly, and that it would be enough and he didn’t need to find a hospital at this time of the night.

What would he even tell them, when it was so very clear that he’d been bitten? There was no way he could admit Hongbin had bitten him; there was a ninety percent chance the hospital would contact the authorities about it, and if they found out about Hongbin’s status as feral they most definitely were going to take him away, and he didn’t dare think about what would happen to the boy then.

He couldn’t say it had been an unknown hybrid in the streets, either, since that would lead to a witch-hunt resulting in even more pain and suffering for innocent hybrids all over the country.

No, he couldn’t go to a hospital, and he didn’t know of any doctor he could trust, either.

Disinfecting the wounds and covering them with an antibiotic ointment had to be enough, and then he had to find out what had caused Hongbin to bite him in the first place. He didn’t know what, but he was sure he must have done something really bad for Hongbin to react like that, and as soon as the angry red wounds were hidden under a couple layers of gauze his thoughts focused solely on finding Hongbin and making sure he was alright.

He didn’t bother putting the first aid kit back together and stow it away for now, instead making his way over to Hongbin’s room to knock hesitantly on the door.

He might have expected for Hongbin to not answer, but nothing prepared him for the anguished cry of “No!” that answered him almost immediately. His heart clenched painfully as he took a surprised step back, staring at the door as if it, too, had bitten him.

He wanted to knock again, talk to Hongbin, but decided against it. It was too obvious that the hybrid was extremely upset, and as much as it hurt to admit to himself, he could understand that he was probably the last person Hongbin wanted to see right now.

Clenching his teeth tightly, he lowered his hand that he’d already risen to knock again, taking another step back. His heart felt heavy and ached with every beat, but he forced himself to turn around and go away, back to the living room or wherever, and leave Hongbin alone.

He had no idea what he had done, no idea what had startled or hurt Hongbin, but whatever it was, he hated himself for doing it.

For an hour, he managed to busy himself cleaning away hair from Hongbin that had fallen out, covering the couch and carpet, as well as the drops of his blood that had stained the carpet in the living room and tiles in the kitchen. It was getting late, but there was no way he would be able to sleep, and his throbbing hand was the least of the reasons for that.

Gathering as much courage as he could, Taekwoon quietly made his way down the hallway again, but he halted even before he could knock on Hongbin’s door. Broken sobs could be heard through the wood barrier, and every single one of them was like a stab to Taekwoon’s heart.

Biting his lip, he didn’t hold the tears back that battled their way to freedom, instead turning away and shuffling to his own bedroom.

It really was late, and he had to go to work early tomorrow, even though he knew he would get nothing done there. He needed to rest, as much as that seemed impossible right now.

Before going to bed, he locked his door; if Hongbin really had a hint of feral in himself -which Taekwoon couldn’t entirely be sure he didn’t anymore, his hand proving to be a painful reminder of that- there was a chance he might seek out revenge during the night. And even if Taekwoon felt he probably deserved whatever Hongbin might want to do to him, he also admitted to himself that he was too much of a coward to take it.

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A/N: Hi, sorry this so late :( I've been crazy busy working three jobs and on my parents' farm this past month, and even got a fourth job this monday *wipes at sweaty brow* it's a tough life, and sadly writing is what suffers most from it.

Now, it's taken me quite some time to convince myself becausel I felt so awkward and weird/wrong doing this, but I've created a ko-fi account now, and if any of you like my work enough to think it's worth a few cents you might have to spare, it would mean the world to me (and I wouldn't have to defend every second I spend writing as fiercely because it's wasted time I could spend working a fifth job...).

Please don't feel obligated to donate, but if you can and want to, you can do so here.

Thank you to everyone who supports this story and/or my others, be it by "buying me a coffee", commenting, subscribing, upvoting, recomending/talking about it with others or simply just reading, it all means a lot to me.

<3