“Why did you kiss me, then?” he almost looked empty, this time, like he was tired of all his lies, of all his excuses, like he just wanted the truth. He wished he could know what he was thinking, what he thought of him, because maybe it would’ve been easier to know what to say, how to fix this. If there was anything to be fixed, still. If they weren’t already broken beyond repair.
 
He stared up at the younger, knowing that he looked lost, confused and suspended between so many other emotions he wouldn’t even have been able to say how many. There was nothing he could do. Nowhere to run. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want this; he didn’t want to hurt him. He shouldn’t have asked him to stay, but he had, and now he had to live with the consequences of his own actions.
 
The answer was that he didn’t know, that he’d looked so beautiful and so adoring in the low light of that dark room, that he’d been drunk and it’d helped him not think, for just a moment. It’d made him believe that maybe he could try again, that he wasn’t broken, just bent.
 
But he’d been wrong, and all the memories of the mistakes he’d made had come flowing back to him and he’d felt like drowning, realising that he was kissing a drunk friend who he knew was in love with him and yet didn’t think he could ever truly love back. He’d already cared too much, and he hadn’t wanted to try and love him just to find out that he couldn’t when it was already too late, when breaking up with him would’ve meant breaking his heart.
 
He looked away, looked at the floor, his voice stuck in his throat. Hanbin probably took it as a chance to keep going, to spit everything he’d kept inside of himself for months in his direction, and he couldn’t truly blame him. “And, what, did you think losing you wouldn’t hurt me? You say you never meant to hurt me, but how didn’t you realise that losing you would hurt me the most?” he didn’t know why he hadn’t, he really didn’t know.
 
No, he had thought about it, but he’d told himself that he would get over him, that he would forget him, because he knew how easily people forgot him. He’d told himself that losing him would hurt way less than having to suffer because of his carelessness, but he hadn’t realised that Hanbin wouldn’t know that.
 
And it seemed like he hadn’t forgotten him, yet, and he didn’t understand, because he was so forgettable, so unimportant, so pointless he—he didn’t know why, but his mind felt like it was going in overdrive. Maybe it was a mixture of everything, of the fact that he was stuck in his room, that he was in pain, and the younger had simply stormed in his room, angry at him for being so stupid.
 
He was starting to feel angry at himself for everything. If he’d just tried to talk to Hanbin, before pushing him away telling himself that he couldn’t love him and fearing the younger would get tired of him. He was terrible with communication, he knew. Now, he didn’t know what else to do.
 
Without any warning sign, tears started to stream down his cheeks, before he could stop them. He kept looking down, biting his bottom lip to keep in the sobs that would’ve inevitably left his throat if he didn’t.
 
He felt the need to cover his face with his hands, but he couldn’t do that, or the younger would notice that something wasn’t right. It seemed that the painkillers had completely disintegrated his self-control and his ability to hold things in and pretend he was fine. He’d always been good at pretending, but§ it seemed that everything was crumbling to pieces, in that moment.
 
He didn’t want to cry, he didn’t want to cry in front of him, he didn’t want him to read right through him and understand everything. The problem was that he didn’t know what there was to understand, he didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know if he wanted him to leave him and find so much better than him, or if he wanted him to stay, because he knew he was hurting him by constantly pushing him away too. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what to do anymore. And it hurt to see how much willing Hanbin was to fight for him, to stay with him, when he knew he wasn’t worth it even a single bit. He hated being so weak, but he couldn’t help it. He wished he could be perfect, but he wasn’t; it was something difficult to accept, but he wasn’t perfect and he would never be. He wished he could always know what to say, always know how to get out of every situation without hurting anyone, but he didn’t. He didn’t and he’d only caused a mess he couldn’t get out of.
 
He almost gasped out loud when he felt arms wrap around his shoulders and he was pulled into an awkward one-armed hug; he half-collapsed against Hanbin’s side, feeling like an idiot. It felt so unfair for him to be the one crying when everything had happened because of him, because he’d preferred to run rather than to face the consequences of his own actions. But he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take anything anymore; he was so tired.
 
He moved his arms around the younger’s waist and pressed himself against his chest, legs curled up close to his own body, starting to sob uncontrollably. He felt like an idiot and yet he couldn’t stop. Hanbin didn’t say anything and just let him cry, caressing his back softly, as if he was trying to calm him down. He was so sweet; he didn’t deserve him.
 
He didn’t get why he was still there with him after everything he’d done to him, why he didn’t hate him after all the times he’d hurt him and lied to him. He blurted out those words before he could even realise he’d done that.
 
“Why are you still here?” his voice was muffled and on the verge of breaking, mixed with his tears, but the younger seemed to have heard that question, considering how he stiffened for a second and his hands halted their movement. He didn’t want him to think that he was trying to push him away once again, because, if he had to be honest, he really wasn’t.
 
He’d missed having him so close, so close it was difficult to tell where one began and the other finished, he’d missed his arms around him and his warmth seeping through his cold heart. He wanted him to stay, just for a second, a second suspended in eternity, if he couldn’t stay with him forever, if he couldn’t get past all the mistakes he’d made and the wall he’d built between them.
 
“I can’t leave if you don’t tell me why you’re crying,” he eventually heard Hanbin murmur, in his dazed state; he sounded lost, confused, and like he truly couldn’t understand his behaviour, and he couldn’t, either. This time, he knew he couldn’t lie, and actually had to say the truth. He’d already lost him, there was no point in hurting him more than he’d already done. Just for once, he could be honest, didn’t matter how much it would hurt.
 
Slowly, he pulled himself away from him, finding it harder than he’d thought it would be. He looked at him, and realised just how close they were. So close he could feel his breath cutting off for a second and could swear there was an hint of blush on his cheeks. He felt like he was taking advantage of their situation and yet, unable to stop himself, he took his face into his hands, observing him, like he’d wished he could do for months.
 
Oh, how he had missed him. He didn’t even know why he was crying, he didn’t truly know, and didn’t feel like it was right of him to be comforted, but he needed to give him an answer as best as he could. He couldn’t even find the strength to lie, looking into his soft and gentle eyes. He deserved the truth. He knew that, once he started, he wouldn’t have been able to stop.
 
He sighed, closed his eyes for a second, bit his lip once again and told himself that it was time to face his fears. If he didn’t want to do it for himself, at least he could do it for Hanbin.
 
“I tried to push you away because I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said again, and he noticed how the younger was frowning, as if he still couldn’t understand what he meant by that and why he couldn’t understand that he had hurt him. He did understand, he just hadn’t found anything else to start with.
 
Feeling himself shaking slightly, he absentmindedly and softly caressed Hanbin’s cheekbones, and he seemed to deflate against his hands. “I know it’s stupid to say, I know. I should’ve been honest with you since the start, but I—I was scared. I am scared. I didn’t want you to realise that I’m not the person you think I am, that I’m a mess and I didn’t want to stay with you longer and keep hurting you with my stupidity and—” he stopped, swallowing hard, knowing that he needed to tell him everything. Everything, even what he still didn’t want to say out of fear. “And I didn’t want to try to love you back and ultimately hurt you with my carelessness. I pushed you away because I thought you would easily forget me if I did it while I still could. But I’m an idiot. And I’m starting to think maybe I did it out of selfishness to begin with because I haven’t felt the way I feel about you for anyone in such a long time I didn’t know how to take it,” he finished in a breath, feeling like he was about to drown.
 
He’d said it. He’d said it, he’d been honest, for the first time in probably years. He didn’t know what was going to happen, now. He didn’t know. He didn’t know if the younger could forget everything he’d said, everything he’d done, and stick with him. Hell, he didn’t even know if he was still in love with him, although there were many signs that indicated that he still was. That didn’t mean he was going to react well to what he’d told him. That didn’t mean he was going to be willing to forgive him after everything he’d done.
 
He’d tried to explain himself, but it didn’t feel like it was enough, it barely felt like it was something; he just hoped he could at least somehow understand why he was such an idiot, if nothing else. He was fine with whatever happened. He told himself that he would be fine if he looked at him in disgust and walked out of the door, telling him that he didn’t want to see him ever again, because everything he’d done was unforgivable. He hadn’t forgiven himself yet, and he doubted he would ever do, if he lost him again. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense, nothing of what he’d done made sense, he realised. But he couldn’t take anything back, now.
 
He hadn’t even realised he’d taken his eyes away from him, but he looked back at Hanbin, finding him staring forward, like he couldn’t even see him, seemingly confused, taken aback, like he didn’t know what to say. There was so much he could read in his pupils, and it scared him. He didn’t know what was going to happen, and time seemed to stand still, until the younger blinked, shaking his head slightly. For a second, he thought the worst, but then, Hanbin seemed to fully come back on earth, finally focusing his eyes back on him.
 
“Can—can you say it again? I think my mind his having problems catching up with—uh, everything,” he eventually said, his cheeks rosy and his voice unsure. Seungyoon couldn’t help but chuckle; he wasn’t mocking him, he just really found him incredibly adorable when he was that shy. Everyone had this image of him being a confident and cheeky guy, but that couldn’t have been more different than the truth. He was so awkward, but he liked that of him so much. Still laughing, he lightly squeezed his cheeks.
 
“Ah, you’re so cute,” if he’d been blushing before, his face suddenly became as red as a bell pepper, and he blinked repeatedly, like he was trying to hold himself back from doing something terribly embarrassing. Well, he’d just told him the truth, after all.
 
He felt stupid once again, realising that he was smiling, with tears still drying on his cheeks, without even knowing why he’d cried in the first place. There was such a mess of emotions in his heart, he didn’t know how to deal with it anymore. At least, it seemed that Hanbin hadn’t taken that badly. He just didn’t know how to take it at all. “I said that I have feelings for yo—” he didn’t get to finish his phrase, because Hanbin’s lips found his. It was a kiss that lasted barely a second, and yet, he could feel that his lips were just as soft as he remembered, from that night he’d deluded himself he could forget for months. He hadn’t expected him to make the first move, but he wasn’t complaining. He truly, truly wasn’t.
 
Unable to help himself, he let his lips curl up in a happy grin, taking his face back into his hands and kissing him back, without even letting him time to realise what was going on. It was somehow of a bolder kiss, and yet, he could feel that the younger wasn’t certain of what he was doing enough, felt inexperienced, like he didn’t know what he was supposed to do; the first time, it’d seemed that alcohol had washed away all of his fears, but now, he knew he was afraid of messing up.
 
He kept kissing him softly, their lips barely clashing against each other, holding his chin into his hand. When they broke apart, their breath was slightly uneven. His eyes fluttered open, and he felt his heart skip a beat, the realisation that he’d kissed him again hitting him hard. He couldn’t believe it. When he’d walked into his room what felt like hours before, he’d never excepted that it would end that way.
 
“Never—” the younger said, stopping for a second to his lips, close to him; he had to fight back the urge to kiss him again. “Never push me away again, please,” his voice was barely a whisper, but he could perceive how hurt he’d been by all the times he’d tried to walk away from him, to leave him like he wasn’t worth anything. He felt incredibly guilty about it, and he doubted he would ever stop.
 
The problem was that, now, he didn’t know where they stood. He didn’t know what they could become. He’d finally told him how he felt for him and it was clear that Hanbin still felt the same, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything for sure, but he knew he wanted to try to love him. Because it was what the younger deserved. Someone who would love him properly, without holding back because of fear.
 
“I won’t. I promise,” he murmured back, softly caressing his cheek; the younger was looking at him with such adoration in his deep eyes he almost felt sick. He couldn’t believe he’d pushed him away. But after all, he’d done it in fear of watching that exact adoration dissipate from his eyes when he realised he was different from the person he thought he was. He just had to be honest with him, maybe. That was already a starting point. Then, they would figure it out, he hoped.
 
He smiled, softly, taking one of his hands into his own. “I—I’ve realised that losing you would damage me way more than the fear of falling in love. I’m not walking away again, Hanbin-ah,” he added, after a moment, and he knew he meant it. He didn’t know where they were going to go from there, but he wanted to try. Really.
 
He must have had a hint of something vulnerable in his eyes, something that Hanbin immediately caught on, as if he could read right through him. It scared him, and yet, it made him feel safe, for some reason. The younger raised his free hand and slightly patted the side of his face, smiling sideways, in such an adorable way his heart hurt.
 
“I love you,” he uttered, his voice soft and careful, like he was afraid those words could injure him. They couldn’t, because he already knew. He hadn’t taken it well, the first time he’d told him, out of exhaustion, but he’d been ready, this time. He’d been ready to accept them. He couldn’t say that back, but he hoped the younger could understand that he wasn’t ready for that yet, that he needed more time to heal, to be with him. “And I want to stay with you. If you want that too, I mean. I know you’re scared, but it’s okay. I can’t change that, but I want to help you heal,” he was blushing, slightly, like he wasn’t sure of his own words, but he was grateful. It seemed that he was saying so much more with those words, so much more he didn’t know if he deserved. It was like he was trying to tell him that he was worth it, and he wanted to love him, without thinking about ‘what ifs’ or ‘buts’, without worrying about the future, and just wanted to see where the road would lead them. He was worth trying. “Do you—do you want me to stay?” the younger eventually asked, seeing that he wasn’t answering anything. He’d just been lost in thoughts, marvelling over the fact that a person he’d thought he’d lost was there with him; and nothing else seemed to matter.
 
Instead of giving him a proper reply, he gently grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him back for another kiss. It was still something careful, slow, timid, but it felt like it was enough, way more than enough.
 
They didn’t separate for a while, and Seungyoon found himself with his back against his mattress, Hanbin hovering over him, cautiously, as if he didn’t want to hurt him, remembering why he’d stormed into that room to begin with; his fingers were tangled into his fair hair. “So—do you want me to—” Hanbin mumbled, out of breath, almost against his lips, breaking the silence once more.
 
“Yes, I want you to stay,” he responded, laughing softly, kissing him once again. He truly couldn’t get enough of his kisses; he didn’t know how he’d thought he would be fine without him forever.
 
He’d been so stupid. He’d hurt both of them over and over just to get to the starting line again. But it was fine that way, maybe, because he couldn’t go back and erase his mistakes; he could only go forward, and try to be the best of himself, try to make it right. And he was going to, he thought, as he lay beside Hanbin, caressing his cheek and thinking about him, him and only him. He really didn’t know where they were heading. But it didn’t matter, as long as they were together. They had time, they would figure it out.
 
If only he’d know that they didn’t, that the clock was ticking and everything was going to fall apart and collapse to the ground just a few days later. If only he’d known.

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A/N: Hanbin is so shy because it’s realistic and no, I don’t take constructive criticism. And I’m sorry if the angst is ever present even in the happy chapters, I think angst is just my middle name.

Spoiler: I’m extremely sorry for what is going to happen in the next chapter, but the drama won’t leave me be (this time it’s not really my fault, I swear)