They start the day with breakfast, and Sanghyuk almost freaking out from Hongbin wanting him to take his oral temperature so they settle with a hand on the forehead instead.

Hongbin spends the whole day teaching Sanghyuk how to work a phone and the internet function, and even though Sanghyuk refuses (doesn’t straight up say no, but definitely withdraws back into himself) to type anything into the searchbar without Hongbin telling him what to type, he’s sure that the boy will come around one day. The only two contacts in Sanghyuk's phone belong to Hongbin and another stranger – Cha Hakyeon hyung, that Hongbin swears is the only person he trusts so Sanghyuk should too. The PSP proves to be a great interest of Sanghyuk’s and he goes a whole hour without looking up at Hongbin. The only voids in silence happen when Sanghyuk asks Hongbin if he can use the washroom and Hongbin patiently reminding him that he doesn’t need permission.

Its well into the afternoon when Hongbin looks up from his work to see Sanghyuk smiling. It’s not a big one, just a tilted smirk on his face. And even before he can bite his tongue, he blurts out, “You should smile more.”

Sanghyuk startles, then looks down at his screen bashfully. “H- Haven’t had a lot of smile about.”

Hongbin wets his lips. “Maybe you should start.”

“I’d like that.” Sanghyuk says, turning off his PSP with a small click. 

He looks like he has something to say, spine ram-rod straight and eyes trained on the floor in front of him, so Hongbin gives him a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Anyway, hyung, you’ve been so – um – good to me these past few days and I hope I’m not being a – a nuisance or – a burden or what – whatever. You – I mean, I can – I can do things around the house, really. I don’t have to lay around all day. Hyung.”

Rolling his eyes playfully, Hongbin shakes his head. “You can do whatever you want, Hyuk-ah. I like having you around as a friend. You’re a better conversationalist than my tablet for starters, but since you want it, let’s split chores then.”

“Is that – Is that, okay? I mean I could do everything –” Sanghyuk slows as Hongbin raises an eyebrow at him. “I know you’re busy.”

Hongbin gives a small hum of approval. “Okay, let’s split chores. You can wash the dishes for breakfast and lunch. I’ll do the dinner plates and taking out the trash. Which days do you wanna wash the clothes?”

Sanghyuk is more than a little taken aback that he was just asked for his opinion. Him. The person that no one ever noticed or cared about. Hongbin wants to know what he thinks. And it feels absolutely horrible, to be handed over the decision to choose. This was another tactic – His Sirs asking him to make a decision then setting him up to fail. He always – always fell for it because he was naïve like that until one day he didn’t fall for it. One day it got carved into his skin so deeply that nothing could ever push it out. Ever since that day, he’s so willing to hand his life over to whoever owns him, so willing to avoid making choices if he can help it. The wolf in his belly gnaws on the walls of his organs, and a searing pain runs through his stomach. The bile rises up his throat and he chokes it down, but it only makes the anxiety worse. 

“It’s okay.” Hongbin suddenly says with a smile and it hardly reassures Sanghyuk. “You can do it.”

Sanghyuk looks absolutely terrified but he pushes it down with visible effort. “I don’t know, I don’t know – I can do it every day, if you… if you want me to. I like – I like doing the laundry.”

Hongbin laughs a hearty laugh that tightens Sanghyuk’s muscles all over again. “Okay, that’s cute. Never knew anyone liked the washing machine. I’ll hang up the clothes then. Whoever has time to take it down folds it. Sounds good?”

Sanghyuk nods. He’s not in trouble. And that’s… good. That’s good.

“You know, the last time I was living with someone, he was so untidy I almost died. I spent more time cleaning after him than I did studying. It was horrible. Probably the only reason why I almost got held back. Maybe I’ll introduce him someday. You’ll like him, I think.”

“Hyung?” Hongbin turns immediately to look at Sanghyuk. The sunlight catches on the side of the boy’s face and in that moment, he doesn’t look broken or hurt, just goddamned pure.

“Did you – Just now, um did you… call me Hyuk?”

Sanghyuk knows that a long, long time ago “Hyuk” was a huge part of him. Someone that he loved so much it hurt had used “Hyuk” all the time, and no matter how many times his Sirs tried to erase “Sanghyuk” from him, “Hyuk” was always there. Perpetual. Infinite. Never-fading. The way he sees it is that it’s almost like learning how to ride a bike. You learn it once, you never forget, and how could he ever forget the muddy memory of a friend’s sleeping face, an orphanage’s sandpit, a kind smile, a swirl of colour in nightmares, even if it was so long ago? It was the only thing he had – still has.

“Is that okay? I don’t want to – trigger you. Or anything.” Hongbin knows that being called artwork after that incident would always gave him panic attacks and all his friends had to learn to recognize him by a new name. He would never want to hurt Sanghyuk in that way, would never want anyone to feel like they’re going to suffocate to death because of a name.

And then Sanghyuk takes him by surprise. “It’s okay. I like it, hyung.”

It wasn’t that big of a thing, just a nickname, but at least it was something. It was something that meant a whole lot to the both of them. For a split second, Hongbin allows himself to think that maybe progress isn’t hard to attain, and even if it were, it would be worth it at the end of the day.

“Alright, Hyuk-ah.”

The boy’s cheeks bloom red but he doesn’t seem disgusted by the idea. His voice takes on a low tone as he whispered, “Okay.”

As the sun sets and the sky falls into a glorious hue of purple, red, and blazing orange, “hyung” doesn’t sound so much like a “Sir” anymore. What was once a title became a pretty title spoken with Sanghyuk’s slowly softening tongue. The sharp edges aren’t there anymore, just the slight pucker of the lip, the curl of the tongue, the tremulously pronounced “Hongbin hyung”. It goes unnoticed by Sanghyuk but Hongbin knows body language. He knows when someone trusts him and he also knows that trust is just about the hardest thing to find in the world.

He’s very honored.

***

Sanghyuk stares at himself in the mirror, turning his body in every awkward angle possible to take a good, hard look at himself. His body still looks the same but his face is getting chubbier, wrists thicker. Hongbin took the weighing scale out of the bathroom after the day Sanghyuk came clean about his little problem but the circle of his fingers are good instruments of measurement still. He genuinely wants to be better, just doesn’t know if he deserves to eat, or drink, or be around Hongbin hyung, or live.

He quite honestly doesn’t really know anything, so he just stares right back at his face, the sharp contours almost curving gently under his relentless eyes, hair hanging limply at the sides of his ears. He stares right at it like it doesn’t belong to him, then attempts a smile but it comes out as a desperate failure. The lifting of his lips and fake curve of his eyes look like it’s happening on someone else’s expression and he thinks he understands why Soojin Sir used to tell him that his body isn’t his anymore. He feels like he’s just taken two steps back from where he was in the afternoon.

Sanghyuk has half the mind to give up this road of salvation and save Hongbin of all the trouble in the process. He could, he realizes. He really could just lie down and let the bad things catch up on to him. Unhinge himself and let the past continue to destroy him. But then he dismisses the thought and just steps into the shower, trying so hard not to look at his own body. Once or twice, he catches sight of his bruises just starting to morph into rings of dirty green and almost pukes.

The fog starts to mess with his head so he gets out the moment he hears the voice of Jooncheol Sir, feeling himself start to shake through the scalding air and his almost boiling blood.

***

Hongbin tries to push his luck over dinner, plate of spaghetti fresh out of the microwave because that’s the best Hongbin can do. Sanghyuk hasn’t had a food problem since the last one, neither has he shown discomfort so this is the first meal that both of them are eating the same amount.

 “Hyuk-ah. Wanna watch a movie?” Hongbin asks, with a tone that spells of casual, and hopes that at the very least Sanghyuk knows what his favorite movie is.

But then there is that look again – deer in the headlights.

“Um – Um yeah. Yeah, sure hyung.”

Hongbin’s face clouds over slightly but his voice is still even and sincere as he asks, “You know what you feel like watching?”

“Anything would be fine, hyung. I don’t… not like anything.”

Hongbin heart drops a little at how much Sanghyuk is trying to be normal, to be okay. Maybe it’s for himself, and maybe it’s for Hongbin, but at that moment he just really wants to tell Sanghyuk that it’s okay if he hasn’t seen a movie in ages and that it’s okay to not know anything about normality.

They put on The Royal Tenenbaums in the end and a few jokes manage to reach Sanghyuk. Mostly it’s Hongbin laughing by himself but he can see that light in Sanghyuk’s eyes and the slowly relaxing body posture. He even drops a few crumbs on the floor without looking guilty and apologetic – just picks them up without even looking at Hongbin. It feels so domestic and stupidly innocent that Hongbin himself almost gets thrown off the edge because it’s been a long time since he’s lived with anyone, or rather, since he’s not felt completely alone. In many ways, he’s grateful to Hyuk. He just hopes he’s doing the right thing for the boy too.

Then again, right now, right here, the both of them are alright. Maybe not completely okay, maybe not completely happy, but it’s definitely something in between. Hongbin thinks it’s something they both can get used to living with, given enough time.

It’s a good day.