Sometimes Sanghyuk gets good dreams – uplifting flashes of yellow and orange, like sun shining on your face when you have your eyes closed, flecks of dust dancing across the expanse of the universe. They chase away the darkness in short paint of light, forcing pain to retreat off the canvas of his busy mind. But Sanghyuk never remembers what the dreams are about when he wakes. He never remembers the whole dream, only flashes of scenes.

He knows there’s always a young boy in it with him, and a playground. Swings, slides, see-saws. There are pebbles hidden in their pockets when they run along home. The rocks weigh down their pants so much that they can’t stop giggling as they try to hold their waistbands up. There’s a scary woman at the door, but they don’t care, because there’s another woman inside that’s nice. A woman who cooks potato stew in the kitchen, and serves it hot. Because she’s nice. She’s really nice.

She always hides their pebbles for them – for Sanghyuk and his friend, and she says they’re great boys to be around. Sanghyuk calls after her whenever he leaves and in every dream she turns around. He never stays long enough in the dream to see her face.  

***

“Let’s get you changed out of this, okay? Your shirt is wet and dirty.”

“Sorry,” Sanghyuk ducks his head in shame. “I’m sorry. Sorry. I’ll pay you back.”

“Hey,” Hongbin reaches out and touches his grazed cheek. “I didn’t even buy this for you. It was a present from Taekwoon hyung, remember?”

Without the desperation to survive, every other emotion he has suppressed has started to kick in in the last five minutes. He’s tired, and confused, and mostly confused. He’s not quite sure if he’s supposed to anticipate Hongbin’s anger, or if he’s supposed to be apologizing, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to apologize for, or maybe it is his fault, or maybe he’s been bad. He always tries so hard to be the person that Hongbin hyung wants, and he can’t deal with not being that.

“Okay, sorry, still.” Sanghyuk mutters softly, like a secret. “Don’t tell him, okay? Don’t tell him. Don’ want him to get angry.”

Hongbin smiles and Sanghyuk wonders what’s funny. He doesn’t get it. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

Sanghyuk shivers involuntarily. “Was I – I’m sorry. Am I still good? Am I, am I –”                     

“You were so good, Hyuk-ah. You were really brave. I know you were.”                                     

That’s good. The muscles in his stomach relax a bit. He’s good. Or – maybe – Someone – Someone said he wasn’t good. Someone said he was weak. That he was too needy – Someone – Jaehwan hyung –

“Are you sure?” Sanghyuk swallows. “Are you sure I was good – I, I got myself home. I did. I tried my best.”

“You did a good job,” Hongbin continues to card his fingers through Sanghyuk’s hair. “It was very good of you. What a brave kid. But let’s get you out of this for now, okay? Don’t want you getting sick. It’s cold.”

Sanghyuk nods, silently muttering the word “brave” over and over again. Hongbin helps him up, and he stifles the sounds of pain with the shape of “brave” on his lips.

Hongbin closes the curtains so the living room is dark, and stands behind Sanghyuk even when Sanghyuk needs help taking off his shirt. It’s privacy in the sweetest form – Hongbin doesn’t want to hurt him, or take advantage of him. He just wants to help… And if Hongbin wants to help, it must mean he has been good. A drowsy smile finds its way onto his face.

“Can you look at me, Sanghyuk-ah?”                          

He opens his eyes and Hongbin looks directly into them; looks directly into him. His soul. His emotion. The fresh sweater he’s wearing is keeping him warm – and it smells like Hongbin. That’s good. It’s good. Hongbin wouldn’t have lent him his clothes if he wasn’t good. Hongbin wouldn’t have tried to keep him warm if Hongbin didn’t like him.

“Oh no,” Hongbin says softly. “Oh no. Oh no. Are you dropping?”

“I’m not –”                                                                                                                 

Hongbin’s words don’t register for a while. And then it snaps him back down like gravity.

No wonder everything feels so distorted, like he’s on stage; a relentless pressure to perform perform perform. He’s constantly thinking of how to please Hongbin, whether he’s – he’s being good, whether he’s – of course he’s not good, he can’t stop thinking of touching Hongbin, this is what Daewon told him about, stupid, Hongbin is not a dom, why is he looking for trouble, he’s stupid, Hongbin can tell how broken he is, how worthless, he shouldn’t have let this happen, he can’t believe he didn’t even notice, it’s just a sweater, Hongbin would never want to touch him, he’s so stupid, oh God, he’s so stupid, so stupid –

Sanghyuk brings his knees up to his chest in an attempt to still his pounding heart. His stomach doesn’t fold the way he wants it to: it collapses completely, like a building coming to the ground. He winces, breath hitching.

“Oh .” Hongbin is so close that Sanghyuk can feel the intonation of each word on his cheek – he wants to feel Hongbin’s lips on his bare skin – no – no, that’s crazy, he’s so under, he doesn’t know what he’s saying –  he doesn’t want that – he doesn’t want to be touched anymore –

There is a gargantuan compulsion to get on his knees and Sanghyuk almost feels his body starting to move – to get into position, but he’s not sure if he’s imagining it or not.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Hongbin says slowly, grabbing Sanghyuk’s hands tightly, pulling them away from where he’s digging into his palms. “I don’t mind. Just calm down for me, okay?”

“I’m sorry.” Sanghyuk’s voice cracks embarrassingly but he continues. Everything about this situation is humiliating. He needs to get his head straight now, now, now. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m bad. I’m sorry. I – I can handle it myself, I p – promise. I am, I am. I can be good. But I’m – I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t apologize.” Hongbin runs his hands from Sanghyuk’s shoulders down to his wrists and the touch brings him back just a little bit. “Don’t apologize. You’re okay. You’re alright. You just breathe.”

Sanghyuk gasps in a breath of air, blinking slowly. “I’m sorry – Oh. Sorry. I –”

He’s trying not to freak out, because that’s messy, but it feels like everything hitting him in the gut at once and he should be bringing himself up but he can’t, he’s going further down he can feel it. There are walls coming up, but his heart feels like it’s crumbling. Everything is going backwards and it’s so confusing, and he just wants to be told what to do –

“It’s overwhelming, right?” Hongbin keeps touching him gently, like he wants to. “I know it’s overwhelming. I know how it feels. But you just relax. I’m here, I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

Sanghyuk almost wants to break apart: shatter into pieces, knowing that Hongbin has felt this overwhelmed before. Hongbin doesn’t deserve to hurt the way he does, doesn’t deserve any bad emotion in the world. Not for one second. He doesn’t deserve to feel as bad as Sanghyuk feels right now.

“I – I’m okay. I can bring myself up. It’s okay.” He’s getting anxious, hands curling in the sweater, eyes on the verge of not being able to see. But Sanghyuk resolutely doesn’t cry.

“I don’t mind.” Hongbin his hair, pressing nearer into him. “I don’t mind at all, Hyuk-ah. You’re amazing. I know you can do it on your own. But I’m going to try and help you.”

Sanghyuk nods but his headspace is so messed that he doesn’t even know which way is up. There’s so much panic, and fear. He’s a wreck. A complete mess. Just when he thought he was getting better – he was so stupid.

“Relax, Hyuk-ah,” Hongbin holds up a palm. “Just breathe. Starfish?”

Okay. That’s an instruction he can follow. He knows what that is. Its – He can be good.

Sanghyuk tucks his chin against his knees and follows. He hangs onto Hongbin’s palm with his eyes and it feels so good, doing what he’s told.

“You’re doing real well,” Hongbin says, and he sounds genuinely proud. “You’re doing so, so well.”

Hardly anyone has said that and meant it before these months, so it makes Sanghyuk glow. He feels a blush working its way up his ears, he feels the blood returning to his body.

“I just want to be home.” He says after a while, even before he knows that he’s saying it. It doesn’t make sense, but it feels right. It feels like he’s scrubbed off a little bit of the cold that he got from being knocked down to the ground.

“You are home.” Hongbin whispers, looking a little bit helpless. “Promise.”                

“Sorry.” Sanghyuk mumbles dazedly, even nonsensically.                                      

“I know you don’t believe it yet, but you are. Whenever you need a home, I’m here.”

Lungs clatter with air. Both their lungs.

Hongbin can’t believe he just said that. Sanghyuk’s universe gets nudged back a little bit more into its place.

“Ah – But – But it’s okay.” Hongbin smiles nervously. “You don’t have to worry about that. For now, just let me take care of you.”

Hongbin leaves him for a while, promising to come right back. He does with rolls of bandages and band aids about forty two seconds later. Sanghyuk lets the ice packs get secured to his body with the cloth, one settling right over his hurt rib and he sighs in half-pain half-relief. Hongbin puts a band aid over the small cut on his face, holds the peas there, and lays him back down on the couch.

“I’m here.” Hongbin says quietly, voice smooth as silk. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You just try to sleep.”

Sanghyuk feels the fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. And he closes his eyes. Sleep takes a long time to come, trying to cut to his mind through the foamy mess of confusion; Hongbin eventually pulls out a book to read next to him, one hand flipping the page, the other hand icing Sanghyuk’s face. Everything hurts, but somehow this feels better than sleep.

[A/N]: Will be answering all questions in the comments as a sort of QnA as we race towards the end of Ghost Boy!

Enjoy Shangri-La everyone : ) 

Also, starfish breathing