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Zhang Hao’s roommate was a dud.

By no means was that a horrid thing. To Hao, it was quite possibly the best conjured result of his random roommate assignment as a graduate student. 

To put it into perspective, it is necessary to understand that Hao was not always this desperate for a dud-like roommate. No, rather, the past four years of going to a top university in Shanghai China had traumatized the poor boy in terms of roommates. One of which had decided the most esteemed gift he could possibly grace Hao with was making his issues of an insomniac the entire flat’s problem. Singing karaoke on late evenings and causing a ruckus when everyone was trying to sleep to burn his boredom. Hao had kicked him out with a small adjourned gift with the other roommates of melatonin gummies. It felt, well, appropriate. The second roommate to roll into the empty room of the flat was no better.

This one was a man that Hao and his friends still gossip about to the present day, even with them all back home in Shanghai and Hao in South Korea. This roommate was simply put, just that bad. 

The man would always end up with a new man in his sheets. Well, it would’ve been just a tinge better if he kept that sanctioned to just his own sheets. But to Hao’s dismay, he walked through his front door after his classes back home to too many vulgar scenes to count. He blames the suspiciously shaped stain on his precious couch on this roommate.

Therefore, Hao wasn’t even asking for much when looking for a roommate. 

He’s approximately two months into his first year of graduate school and his roommate seems to be slowly, but surely, growing on him. The man was a year younger than Hao, a senior as an undergraduate psychology major. But if there was one way to describe the man in the most simplest terms, he exuded the aura of a classic inexperienced virgin. 

Now, Hao was no means of a sex God. He would say he’s about a mile away from the experience of his previous roommate back in China, but he’s had his fair share of flings, hook-ups, and the unoriginal experience that every gay man has to go through being the homoerotic friendship in high school. So to say he was well-acquainted with the topic of sex would be the best way to put it.

His roommate? Nowhere close.

Sung Hanbin was, well how could Hao say this nicely, quite abnormal. At the prime age of twenty-one, Hao’s almost ninety-nine percent sure this roommate of his (Hanbin) hasn’t seen anyone else’s genitals but his own. Every morning without fail, Hao witnessed the other in a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses that sat heavily atop his face, paired with this stupid black and blue checkered flannel that he just so happens to button all the way up to his chin. He hasn’t seen Hanbin speak of a woman, let alone speak to one, a brewing theory that perhaps Hanbin was secretly gay. But then again, Hao had also never seen Hanbin speak of a man and the only man he ever really spoke to was Hao, so that defeated his second theory. Hao comes up empty-handed and all he’s really concluded is the other is a virgin who's too afraid to speak to anyone romantically. 

Though, Hao wasn’t one to complain. Hanbin, even with his absolute nerd-like get up that never ceased to show in his outfits or behavior, was the sweetest roommate Hao could ever ask for. Unlike the horror stories Hao had read online about randomly assigned roommates, Hanbin left post-it notes around the house for the exact opposite reason.

He’d litter the rooms with small messages that would make Hao smile, little notes on food he would cook for the older and leave in the fridge. Some days Hanbin would even wait for Hao despite his late classes, falling asleep on their shared dining table in hopes of a shared meal together.

Hao felt like a horrible person for ever speculating about the other’s sex life, especially to the extent of his scrutiny. 

He feels even worse on nights like these, when he’s out with his friends in a bustling club and Hanbin is left alone in their shared apartment. But Hanbin hadn’t asked to join, nor was he one to complain, only chirping a quick ‘be safe!’ message as Hao walks out the door, nose already too busily buried in his textbooks.

Hao throws back a shot, his clothing feeling uncomfortably itchy as more and more bodies collide into one another around him.

“You’re not one to not enjoy a night out,” His friend Kuan Jui notes, taking a careful sip of his own drink, “No one’s catching your eye?”

Hao’s best friend Kuan Jui had a knack of dragging him out, especially when knowing of Hao’s dry spell since entering graduate school. Hao would argue with the other that he was too busy to be partying at the clubs and that his knees were beginning to creak, he’s only twenty-two but that’s besides the point, but Kuan Jui was not one to listen. He believes the best way to relieve stress is to get either your shit-rocked by alcohol, or perhaps another person.

“We’re in a collegetown,” Hao replies pointedly, “I feel like an elderly man bordering on the retirement home compared to everyone here.” He sighs at the end as he eyes the people in the room. 

Kuan Jui blinks at the flashing lights, the music booming in both of their eardrums as the flash of pink lighting catches onto the gleam of the man’s eye shadow, “Ge, you ever think you’ve wasted your makeup on a bad night out?”

Hao nods with a slight pout, “I think tonight’s one of them.”

The two end up stumbling back to their home’s, this night-out being getting their shit-rocked by alcohol. Though a small part of Hao wished it wasn’t alcohol but another person.

“Ge,” Kuan Jui slurs as he leans onto Hao, his arm slung over Hao’s shoulder. They’re about a block away from Hao’s apartment, the two’s shoes trudging against the concrete sidewalk the entire climb back, “You know, I found this website if you ever need to de-stress.”

His hands are fumbling at his phone as he also tries to hold himself upright. 

When Hao’s eyes catch a glint of the glowing screen of Kuan Jui’s phone he almost sobers up completely and throws his best friend to the side of the curb. It’s a camboy website, the sides of his screen filled with sketchy ads and some even look like it would give his cellular device a whole new invented virus.

“Jui-ya,” Hao breathes in through his nose, “This is—”

“Genius right?” Kuan Jui hiccups after his words, “If someone can’t get you off, you might as well do it yourself!”

Hao smacks the backside of Kuan Jui’s head, a nice resounding thud that echoes into the street. His friend clutches the back of his head as a small ‘ow’ leaves his lips, even though Hao hadn’t used much force behind the hit. He deserved that . His best friend could not be serious right now, there is no way, absolutely no way Hao would be rendered to such useless methods. He would never.

“This is so low,” Hao squeezes his eyes shut as he fights the urge to smack Kuan Jui again, “This is actual degenerate behavior.”

Kuan Jui whistles lowly as he rubs at the back of his side, evidently a lot more sober from the hit, “Don’t knock it till you try it,” He raises his eyebrows suggestively, “I bet you wished you were getting knocked up right now—”

Hao’s leg shoots out as he tries to kick at Kuan Jui before he can finish his sentence, the other bursting into a loud laugh when Hao misses.

“Go home—” Hao seethes through his teeth.

“I’m just saying, there’s some pretty good stuff–”

“Go.” Hao pushes at Kuan Jui’s back in the opposite direction, “Home.”

“Fine, fine,” Kuan Jui holds his hands up like he’s surrendering, “I’m leaving.”

That’s how Zhang Hao, aged twenty-two years old, a proud anatomy and physiology major, finds himself cooped in his dark room with only his computer’s glowing screen as the only light source.

Kuan Jui wasn’t entirely to blame since Hao was on this website of his own complete accord. But it would soften the blow on his ego just a tad bit, therefore Hao dictates this action to be completely and utterly Kuan Jui’s fault.

To say this was embarrassing would be an understatement. While scrolling through the website, Hao’s finger had slipped off his mouse pad and accidentally clicked on some home-made video. Loud noises of high-pitched moans and whimpers filled his entire room which had a grown man scrambling to close the tab while letting out a consequent yelp as he practically flew off the bed. 

This was a horrible idea.

But he keeps scrolling. It’s like some cosmic force (horniness) was drawing him in, his eyes glued to his computer screen as he tried to find something worth stomaching. 

Something catches his eye and he finds himself clicking in before his rational mind can take over.

It’s nothing extreme like the other videos he’s seen or the random live videos that pop up to the side of the main screen. It’s just a man on livestream, a black pair of sweatpants that are pulled too dangerously low to be considered innocent. He’s wearing a wife beater, a black one to match his pants, the collar low enough that his collar bones jut out like little marble statues, begging to be touched. Hao’s breath hitches when he focuses on the three dainty tattoos that sit right between those bones, the sun, the moon, and the stars.

The setup of the man’s room is dark, shrouding absolutely every corner of Hao’s computer screen in darkness. Yet it highlights the prime view in the middle of the screen, the man himself.

His shoulders are broad, wide enough that it covers almost the entirety of the screen. But at his waist, his build draws in, depicting the epitome of the most tantalizing, mouth-drooling sight of a man. His muscles peek from beneath the tank top, the fabric folding in right at the lines of the muscles, and accentuating the ones on display in his upper arms and forearms.

Hao has to wipe the drool that slips from the side of his mouth.

Unfortunately for Hao, the man’s face isn’t even showing, and even worse, he isn’t speaking. Though Hao would place his bets that the man must be just as appealing as his body.The streamer hums to himself in this low strum that comes from the deepest spot of his throat, fingers drumming on the table in front of him as he reads the comments that fly by the screen in record speed. Hao notes that all the comments share the same sentiment, vulgar words asking for more and more obscene views that the man in the video isn’t complying to.

Hao feels himself growing hot and he entirely wants to blame it on the alcohol he had consumed an hour prior. Any mortal being could tell that it wasn’t just alcohol that was affecting him.

Hao gulps when the man’s fingers tap against the table again, noticing just how thick each finger was. Finger pads calloused with years of use, knuckles jutting out the side. Hao swallows once again, just imagining the slide, how the knuckles would catch the sides of his rim, how they’d stuff—

He needs to get his mind out of the gutter.

A loud sound that resembled coins clattering on a table rang from his computer and a quick notification flashed across the screen. It was one of the website's tell-tale features of letting both the streamer and the audience know there was an immense donation paired with a request.

User: XXX_hayun875 donated 60,000,000 won to Binnie_9 with a request of: fingering.

The man on Hao’s screen leans forward, his chest coming in closer to the camera. His tank top subsequently slides lower, giving Hao, and the audience, a free show of the pecs that lay beneath the thin fabric. The man seemed to be reading the notification with great earnestness before sliding back into his seat. The sight almost makes Hao come alone and he wished he weren’t alive to admit that aloud. The man’s legs spread wider as he gets comfortable in his chair and one arm flies up to place his hand behind his head, a perfect display of his bicep and another tattoo that runs along the inside of his arm.

A loud scoff comes from the streamer, a finger pointed at himself. He quickly holds up a finger and waves it back and forth, like he’s telling the audience he wouldn’t perform the action. Comments flood in, some irrationally angry as they cuss out the streamer, others begging for some other form of entertainment. Hao hasn’t said a word in the chat, too intoxicated with the way the man plays the stream like a fiddle. 

Instead, the man on Hao’s screen brings out a closed fist, holding it up to the camera lens for the audience to scrutinize. Question marks fill the comments like a sea, but Hao’s beginning to understand where this is going when two fingers go up to a hole formed by his closed fist and circling it.

Fuck it, Hao’s hands creep beneath his waistband. Is he really going to be doing this?

The answer would be yes when he sees the streamer coat his closed fist in a filthy amount of lube, the contents dripping onto the table like a slick substance. The noise is only amplified with the pure silence coming from the streamer, the microphone picking up nothing but the noise of lube hitting skin and the sticky substance getting moved by his fingers.

Hao follows his motions, fingers creeping to his own hole, circling the rim slowly as he watches, eyes so incredibly focused. He had completely forgotten any kind of lube before crawling into bed because after all, who would've known this is where he would be after scampering around the sketchy website.

Hao draws his fingers back out of his pants, licking each digit with a copious amount of spit before sliding them back, allowing himself to completely indulge and give in to the sight before him.

The streamer took his time, slowly encircling the hole he’s created and letting his fingers dip in. He draws them out just as quickly, like he’s teasing, like he’s testing the waters, and so does Hao. He follows every step like he’s in a trance, forcing himself to not just plunge his fingers in and succumb to a quick self-pleasure session. 

When the streamers fingers do finally break in, it’s the most erotic noise on the planet, a loud squelch when his fingers dive in. Hao mirrors it on himself, head thrown back when the intrusion he’s been dying for crashes into him with no apparition. He can’t believe he’s getting this worked up by a man fingering his own closed fist. Hao closes his eyes, trying to free his mind from thinking too much of the logistics, because if anything, it’ll deny him of the budding sensation that’s growing in the pit of his stomach if he really thinks about what he’s doing.

The streamer continues his ministrations, finger plunging in and out of the tight hole he’s created, curling his knuckle up as if feeling for something more. Hao’s doing the same, curling his finger up to prod at that familiar spongy spot and letting out a quiet moan.

It feels so wrong, yet so right.

The scene is incredibly lewd, Hao sucking in his cheeks when his fingers graze against his own walls just right. Biting his lip to prevent the whimpers that are threatening to spill from his lips, suddenly remembering his roommate was just across the thin wall behind his headboard and any small noise he lets slip would echo right through.

It seems to only spur him on at the thought, the idea that his roommate could hear everything. Possibly even knock when hearing his noises of distress and walk in. Hao’s thighs shake as they snap shut on instinct from the pleasure, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

The streamer’s fingers drag on the uptake, the skin catching onto his knuckle, almost creating the same sight of a muscle rim. The quiet groan leaves Hao’s lips, following the man when he inserts a second finger alongside the first. The stretch is nowhere near something Hao hasn’t taken before, but the noises that collide within his room, the loud squelch from his computer, along with his panted labored breaths that choke out with every stroke has his fingers digging into the sheets for purchase. His toes are curling as the hot sensation builds in the base of his belly, heels digging into the mattress to prevent himself from orgasming on the spot.

Hao gets sent over the edge when the streamer inserts a third finger in the makeshift hole, Hao finally allowing all three of his own fingers to slide home, all the way to the base of his knuckle. The lucrative amount of lube the man had added was all Hao needed, watching the liquids spurt out his closed fist like it were squirting. The faceless man treated his own hand like a pocket pussy, persistently shoving his fingers in and out. 

Hao sees stars, face flushed as his back arches to escape the pleasure. It hits him in waves, his eyes squeezed shut as a choked out noise comes strangled out of his throat. It’s the first time it’s ever been like this, his hand cupped around the swell of his ass and his fingers plugged right by his prostate. He can’t stop coming. 

With one last twitch, a small rope of cum leaves his dick in earnest, and Hao falls back onto the bed, body completely spent.

The streamer hadn’t stopped, fingers still sloppily inserting and exiting his fist. A wash of realization drenches Hao, his sweat-soaked t-shirt suddenly too sticky to his body, the noises from his computer too loud, and Hao’s exiting the tab, a flush of embarrassment coloring his face as he snaps his computer shut.

He’d never do that again. Never.

Hao lies on the sheets, entirely too hot and an ‘everything’ shower already planned in his mind. His clean hand flies up to his forehead, pushing the sweaty bangs away from the skin, face glistening with the aftermath of his actions. He had to forget this ever happened. Why had he even opened the website? Clearly, Kuan Jui had recommended it as nothing but a joke.

Hao had a dignity to keep and he’d never utter a word of his midnight rendezvous to anyone. Not even Kuan Jui. Even if it had been the best self-inflicted orgasm of his entire life.

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It had been a month since the entire ordeal, the situation melting into the back of Hao’s mind as he continued his life as normal. The memories would flash in his mind every so often, especially when on call with Kuan Jui and he had suggestively asked if Hao had checked out the website.

Hao had denied. Of course.

But there were other factors in Hao’s life that were being altered and his focus had entirely shifted. Abysmally for that matter.

Hao was beginning to change his perspective on his roommate.

The man was still a dud, there was no changing of that perception, but Hao was finding himself growing fonder and fonder of the younger man as time between them stretched on.

Despite his attire, which Hao had advised to never wear again paired with the fact that Hanbin seemed to buy more checkered flannel after the comment, Hanbin had doted on Hao in a way that the older man never knew was a capability of a person.

Hao had always been the one to take care of others. Born slightly before the classic school year started, Hao was always the oldest of his grade, oldest of his class. He had grown accustomed to the role of being a caretaker, looking after his fellow friends on a late-night out, or cleaning up after all his horrible roommates in the past. But with Hanbin, things just seemed to come, well, differently . 

For one, the younger found a great optimistic joy in taking care of Hao. He took it upon himself to cook for them every night, especially when Hao had his classes that went well into the night. Some days he’d even wait outside of the building for Hao when he knew the older had a lab. Those particular days, Hao would be cooped up in the laboratory, too busy trying to figure out what exactly a titration could possibly be when he’s been in the same class for half a semester. He would then be welcomed by Hanbin while he’s exiting with a gleeful anecdote already prepared to be shared.

Their lives fell in rhythm with one another, a steady tandem of push and pull. Hao found himself reaching forward and giving more to Hanbin, even offering to wash the others' plethora of colored flannels with his own clothing. Hanbin always offered a helping hand, even in ways Hao would never have to find a way to ask.

Yet there was another sensation brewing within Hao and the revelation had come as quickly as it had begun to commence.

It had been a night right after one of Hao’s labs, the two walking shoulder to shoulder down a dimly lit street that led them back to their apartment. Haos’ backpack had been slung over Hanbin’s shoulder, the younger insisting he carry it for the other, his own backpack worn over his own shoulder. Hao was dressed in a hoodie that fell all the way to the midst of his thigh and Hanbin in his definitive flannel, the collar of it brushing against his chin from how high he had buttoned it.

That night, neither of the two were prone to be the talker, Hao too tired after a long day, his neck aching from being hunched over the microscope where no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see anything. His lab partner would then remind him to take off the lens cover on the microscope, Hao making a mental note to never pair with the same person again. Hanbin seemed tired, his eyes almost screwing shut on a multitude of occasions. The only thing keeping him from falling forward and landing splat onto the concrete floors were the two backpacks that sit over his shoulders like sandbags to prevent it from happening.

Hao had walked ahead, arms tucked behind his back as he finally broke through their comfortable shared silence, a wide smile on his face as he teased the younger.

“Sung Hanbin!” He called, spinning around as he walked backwards in front of the other, “You shouldn’t fall asleep while walking.” Hao would chide the other, watching Hanbin stumble over his own feet.

“Whatever you say,” Hanbin mumbled, “Hyung.”

Hao stilled in his walking, Hanbin oblivious to the sudden stop. He skidded right into Hao, his body colliding against the other with a quiet thud. Hao began to laugh, his chest filled with bubbly huffs that leave his lips, letting out remarks about Hanbin’s poor sleep schedule as Hanbin regains his balance.

“I’ll sleep earlier, after my midterms.” Hanbin grumbled, his head slumping forward and hitting Hao’s shoulder. His whole body had crumbled, allowing Hao’s stiff position to bear most of his weight.

Hao stilled in his teasing, arms hesitantly lifted as if he’s debating whether he’s allowed to touch Hanbin or not. The answers to his question come immediately, Hanbin using his hesitance as an opportunity to wrap his arms around Hao’s waist, pulling him closer as Hanbin practically nuzzles his nose into the junction of where Hao’s neck meets his shoulder.

“You smell nice.”

The words come out as a whisper, Hanbin’s lips moving against Hao’s skin right where he’s the most sensitive. The slight brush on his neck has Hao flushing from the tip of his toes to the top of his head, an awkward hand coming down onto Hanbin’s back and giving it a pat. What else was he supposed to do?

He can feel the heat of Hanbin’s body clinging to his, the way his arms press in on Hao’s sides like he’s caging him in. Every breath that Hanbin took was felt on Hao’s neck, the hairs on the back of his neck rising when Hanbin exhaled, a soft ticklish sensation.

Hanbin lifted his head for a moment, his glasses had slid off the bridge of his nose to rest at his chin. Large brown doe-eyes stared straight into Hao’s soul, his lashes an astonishing length when no longer masked by his thick frames. His lips were curled the slightest as a smile, a small child-like giggle leaving his mouth before he buried his face back into Hao’s shoulder.

Hanbin sighed against Hao’s skin and a tingling sensation was spreading through the older’s body like a wildfire. Home. This felt like home.

Drumming. Something was hammering within Hao’s chest, fluttering like a bird taking flight, bursting at the bones that keep it enclosed, Hao wrenching his body free from the other’s grip. His hands are placed on Hanbin’s body, pushing him away from his own. Hanbin blinks blearily, like his brain was a bit slow on processing anything. Hao stares down at the sidewalk, staring at the cracks on the floor and gazing at the dirt marks on his shoes. His breathing isn’t coming out right and he already knows what this means. 

It sits on the tip of Hao’s tongue. He bites down onto it as if he could swallow it.

“Hanbin-ah,” Hao’s still staring down at the floor, keeping the other an arms-width away in fear he could hear the same noise strumming in his ears, his heartbeat, “I completely forgot I had other plans.”

His sentences are wobbly, coming off high-pitched and Hao’s face grimaces. He’s never quite had the aptitude of being a good liar, his lips pressing into a thin line as another excuse slips from his lips.

“I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth, Hao taking off running in the opposite direction. He hadn’t actually had plans, his shoes slapping against the floor as he rounded the corner, finally out of the other’s view. His breaths come out in aggressive huffs, mirroring his thudding heart. He slowed his speed down, doubling over his knees as he leaned against the brick wall of the closest building.

Fucked wouldn’t even be the right word to put it.

Hao buried his face into his hands, still feeling the heat radiating off his cheeks when he smushed them against his palms. His brain had turned into a goo, rubbing his face like a man in despair as he raked a hand through his hair. 

Hao had found Hanbin downright beautiful. The quick moment Hanbin’s head had snapped up, the glasses fell off his face and all his features had seen the light. The stupid grin he had given Hao, the stupid dazed expression, the stupidly long lashes, all convincing Hao that his heart had stopped. His hand slapped his mouth as the daunting realization dawned on him, a gasp leaving his lips.

Zhang Hao likes Sung Hanbin.

Hao shook his head. There’s no way. Not that it would be impossible for him to even fathom the idea of liking Hanbin, since the course of that nature seemed too natural, too inevitable. But was Hanbin the type to even like people? Hao had seen Hanbin as something almost untouchable, the man more worried about his upcoming tests than even involving himself with people, let alone romantically. Hanbin was the top student of his grade in one of the largest universities of South Korea. He would have no need to date, only the need to graduate top of his class.

Hao wonders if getting a lobotomy in the twenty-first century is still a viable option.

────────────────────

Hao learns to live with it.

Crushes are no stranger in Hao’s life and being Hanbin’s roommate makes the whole situation a lot more jeopardizing as he lets it ruminate in his mind for a bit longer. Numerous things were at stake here: Hao potentially losing the best roommate of his life, losing Hanbin in his life altogether, or worse off, Hanbin not even seeing him in the same way Hao had always seen the other. What if Hanbin was simply not attracted to Hao and only saw him as a blurb of a human body with a head of hair?

The possibilities of that were slim, but never zero. 

Hao sighs into his textbook, body sprawled on the living room floor as he rolls his head to the side. He had been studying for his upcoming exam, one for his class that required him to memorize the positions and functions of the muscular, skeletal, and urinary system. He had gotten so bored of its contents his mind had decided to run to the thought of Hanbin and it seemed to be doing that a lot more often since his revelation. 

So much for learning to live with it.

Hao squints his eyes at the diagram on his textbook before dejectedly giving up, thunking his forehead against the floor as another exasperated sigh leaves his mouth. He had tried every studying method in the books, even going online to try the absolutely deranged mnemonics the web could offer. The only one he was able to remember was ‘TIRE’ for the abdominal muscles: Transverse abdominis, Internal oblique, Rectus abdominis, and External oblique. He even tried a rendition of the song ‘Head, Shoulder, Knees, and Toes’ and found the tune too annoying and had shut it off after approximately thirty seconds of the video playing.

Hao props a knee up, his shorts sliding a bit higher up his thigh as he gets comfortable, a string of complaints coming from him as he flips the page to the urinary system. Who cares about the kidneys anyways?

The door behind Hao clicks open before the third sigh can be ripped from his throat, the familiar chirpy voice of Hanbin breaking through his mental battle with his younger self for choosing such a major.

“Hyung, I’m home.” Hanbin greets from the door, the sound of his shoes slipping off and grocery bags getting hauled inside. 

Hao looks back over his shoulder, “Bin-ah? Did you get me my favorite snacks?” He pipes, mouth already watering at the crinkles of the bags. He knows Hanbin already has, he just asks for good measure.

Hanbin’s nose crinkles, “Yeah. Durian.” He names the fruit like it’s terribly wronged him, Hao letting out a giggle as he shook his head, face back to being buried in his textbook.

There’s the click of the fridge opening after a pause, Hao knowing the other was busying himself with stocking up their fridge. They claimed to alternate chores, one week Hao getting groceries and Hanbin getting them the next, but Hao couldn’t help but sense the younger get inexplicably angry when Hao ever performed a chore around the apartment. Always reprimanding him stating that he can do it better, giving some lame excuse on why he should be the one sweeping. Hao was not one to complain, though a part of him is convinced if this continues on for a moment longer, he’d grow to be too spoiled.

Hao splays his legs behind him, shifting on the floorboards as he can feel his hip bones practically digging into the ground. He glances down at the bean-shaped kidneys on his textbook and drops his head to the floor, should he just take it? Let himself fail? Maybe he can beg his professor to bump his grade if it drops that low.

“What are you doing?” Hanbin questions, his feet padding against the floor as he approaches the other.

Hao lets out a moan of distress, “Studying for my anatomy exam,” He pouts his lips as he rests his head onto his arms, “Bin-ah, I have no idea how you score so well on your tests. I think my grade is up to fate at this point.” 

There’s a moment of silence, Hao glancing up at the other who had stopped beside him. Hanbin’s peering at him through the lens of his glasses, lips pursed like he’s considering something. There’s something about the angle of which Hao is viewing Hanbin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, hair a bit disheveled, and his brooding gaze focused on no one else but Hao. 

Hao gulps. 

“I can help you.” Hanbin offers softly, a hand reaching out to help pull Hao up. He says it so quietly Hao almost doesn’t catch it, legs scrambling beneath him as he stands up.

Hao cocks his head to the side, eyeing Hanbin as his brows furrow in confusion, “You? Help me?”

Hanbin nods.

Oh Hanbin. Hao laughs to himself as he shakes his head, of course his sweet roommate would want to help him out, that was just the nature of Hanbin. But Hao likes to indulge the other, choosing to play along as he swings himself to the side, “And how do you plan on helping me?” 

Hao says it playfully but Hanbin doesn’t give him a response.

Alternatively to what Hao was expecting, Hanbin moves swiftly, bending over to grab a pack of sticky-notes Hao had strewn to the side while studying. He holds them up, grabbing onto Hao’s hand and placing it onto his palm. He gives the colored sticky-notes a nod with his chin and then points a finger at himself.

“Use me.”

Hao chokes on his own spit, briefly allowing himself to cough and cover it as if he’s clearing his throat. The suggestion sounds so vulgar from Hanbin’s lips, his innocent-look of his flannel and glasses a complete contrast to the way the two words roll off his tongue.

Does he even know what he’s saying?

Hanbin’s still waiting for a response, studying Hao through his glasses with a gaze a bit more calculative than what Hao’s used to.

Hao can only offer a weak nod, allowing himself to get dragged to the side as Hanbin hands him a pen, casually waiting to the side, waiting for Hao’s next action. There seemed to be a switch in the other that completely flicked on, Hanbin’s gaze almost a bit too sharp, glancing up and down Hao’s figure like his eyes could devour him whole. Hao’s suddenly a bit too conscious of how far his own shorts had rolled up his legs. 

So suggestive in nature. But perhaps Hao was thinking too much. Hanbin wasn’t the type . There was no need to get so caught up in his words.

“How do you want me to do this?” Hao whispers, one hand holding a stack of sticky-notes and the other with a ballpoint pen. He thinks he must look stupid, standing there with both hands held out in front of him.

Hanbin doesn’t answer him with words, only rolling up his sleeves in response. He moves slowly and meticulously, rolling back the cuffs of his flannel before sliding the material upwards, all the way up to his elbow. It’s the most amount of skin Hao had ever seen exposed to the other, thinking his mind might just explode on the spot.

“What?” Hanbin muses, “Come on, aren’t you an anatomy major? Don’t tell me you can’t even label the muscles on the forearm.” Hanbin flexes his forearm at his words and Hao’s mouth goes dry. 

The second half of his words register in Hao’s mind, the muscles that pop out almost distracting him from the direct challenge Hanbin had just laid out. 

Hao was never one to back down from a challenge.

“Try again.” Hao scoffs, rolling his eyes as he takes the sticky pad, writing out quickly with his pen, ‘flexor carpi ulnaris’, taking the small paper and placing it right onto the muscle that runs from Hanbin’s pinky up to his elbow. He teases a bit, just for the fun of it, letting his finger trail over the spot where the sticky residue is, hiding it under the guise of trying to get the paper to stick. After all, when is he going to get another opportunity like this?

Hanbin smiles, “That’s one correct.”

Hao glares at him, mouth curling, “You don’t have to remind Sung Hanbin.” He says the other’s full name, hoping he sounds just a bit more intimidating but the smile on Hanbin’s face that continues to persist tells him otherwise. 

Hao continues. ‘Flexor carpi radialis’, taking the note and smoothing it down on the muscle that runs from Hanbin’s thumb to his elbow. Hao works in silence, soon filling the other’s forearm with the labeling for the muscles and bones that sit beneath his skin with color-coded sticky notes.

“All correct.” Hanbin notes, Hao taking a step back to admire his own handiwork. He’s doing better than he thought and if it has anything to do with the fact that Hanbin looks the most attractive he ever has with his forearms on full display is no one’s business but his own. 

Feeling a rush of confidence, Hao puffs up his chest in defiance, “So Mr.Sung, liking it so far?” He hums to himself, “Maybe indulge me a bit more and let me label the rest of your arm?”

He expects Hanbin to refuse. To blush and hold his arms over his chest while he teases Hao for being a pervert. Or maybe even let out a light-hearted joke that the sight wouldn’t come for free. But Hanbin doesn’t do any of that. He simply nods his head, fingers working at his collar to begin to undo his buttons.

Hao is beginning to think he’s bitten off more than he can chew.

Hao’s head automatically swivels in the other direction, doing everything he can to not hyper-focus on the scene of his now two-month long crush stripping in their living room. If he’s blushing, he can’t even tell, since it almost feels like his entire’s body is pumping blood to the surface. His earlier confidence disintegrates at Hanbin’s bold move, the noise of each button popping loose echoing in his ears. 

Perhaps that was what came with Hanbin’s inexperience. Perhaps he hadn’t a clue the current effect he was having on Hao.

The room was shrinking, Hao’s breathing coming out more labored than intended. He’s going insane. Psychosis. He’s going into Hanbin-induced psychosis.

“Hyung,” Hanbin’s finger taps tentatively on his cheek, “You can’t label me while staring at the opposite wall.” 

Hao swallows thickly, giving a shaky nod and getting to work. Hao does it all while staring at the floor or the walls behind Hanbin, doing the absolute most to prevent himself from looking too closely at the now-shirtless Hanbin. If there was a strongest soldier award, Hao thinks he would personally take the cake.

Muscular system. Yes, he needs to focus on anatomy. 

He works through the bicep and tricep as quickly as he can, bruising fingers that jump from Hanbin’s skin when they skim just a bit past the paper. He even spends extraneous time to note the long-head and the short-head of the bicep and triceps, all to keep his focus on anatomy. He was studying after all. 

Hao’s fingers brush at Hanbin’s neck as he places the next sticky-note, the trapezius, right at the muscle resting beside Hanbin’s shoulder. Hao’s eyes flicker over and he grabs a sticky note and moves into the skeletal system, quickly jotting down ‘clavicle’ and placing it right atop the other’s collarbone. The bones jut out as if desperate to be labeled, Hao scraping the surface with his nail ever so slightly.

Hao’s breath gets caught in his throat, noticing between the clavicle bones sit three tattoos. The sun, the moon, and the stars. They’re inked beautifully, a dark black that contrasts the other’s brighter and much smoother skin. Hao gets a strange sense of deja vu at the sight, like he’s seen them somewhere before, but he gulps and turns away before he can look for too long to remember. He was not about to be caught ogling the other’s collarbones. Not in this day and age.

There’s something that moves in the corner of Hao’s vision and he watches as the other’s throat visibly moves, like he’s swallowing with an impossibly dry mouth. 

“Turn around.” Hao whispers, his hand still caught atop Hanbin’s shoulder. The touch is too much, Hao drawing his hand back as Hanbin turns for his back to be facing Hao. Hanbin rolls his shoulders back, the skin dimpling on the muscles on his back as he stretches out his arms.

Hao was going to die of a heart attack at twenty-two.

Stay focused, he had to stay focused. 

Hao writes out the next two, ‘left deltoid’ and then ‘right deltoid’ placing the notes on the corresponding muscles. He continues downward to Hanbin’s waist, noting the left and right obliques. Hanbin’s skin ripples when Hao places the sticky-note on Hanbin’s right, a strange urge to touch, to skim, to brush, anything to feel the younger’s skin against his own. Hao was greedy and if this was a bit too self-indulgent, so be it. Using the younger’s blindness with his back facing him, Hao takes advantage of the compromising position, tracing his finger like a ghostly figure along the other’s spine that pokes out in the middle of his back.

That’s it, that’s all he’ll do.

Hao draws his finger back, curling the joint as a thought circles his mind. This was so wrong, he shouldn’t be touching Hanbin like this. Not when the other is oblivious to the thoughts that circle Hao’s mind. He was an A-class pervert, God, maybe he was actually a horrible person.

Something lurches and Hao finds his wrist in a tight grasp, the movement so quick he almost hadn’t even realized it happened. A quiet gasp leaves Hao when he finds Hanbin had spun around to face him, his face pinched like he’s been holding something back.

“Do you know the effect you have on people?” Hanbin asks the question lowly, his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose as he eyes Hao warily.

Hao’s mouth goes dry, “What?”

Hanbin hesitates before he speaks, lips curling inwards as if he fights off the urge of what he’s about to say.

“You can’t just touch people like that.” Hanbin’s eyes darken as the phrase rolls off his tongue like a plea, “You can’t just,” Hanbin shakes his head, “Lie in the living room with those ridiculously short shorts on, riding up the skin of your ass.”

Hearing Hanbin cuss is substantially more lewd than anyone else, the way his gaze hardens, his mouth flattening to a straight line, his ears an off-pinkish. Hao’s hand in Hanbin’s grip slackens, his mouth parting. He’s suddenly too aware of the fact he’s standing face-to-face with Hanbin, the other completely topless with nothing but a pair of slacks adjourning his bottom half of his body.

“Fuck Hao,” Hanbin breathes out, the curse so incredibly crude, “Tell me you don’t want this.”

Hao’s frozen. His limbs have melted, the grasp of Hanbin on him the only sensation his senses were even picking up on. His own breathing rings in his eardrums, every inhale and exhale tremendously loud, teeth grazing on his lower lip. His mind is frozen.

He wants to answer, but he can’t help but question what Hanbin’s intentions were. The connotation spoken by just about anyone else wouldn’t have made Hao so confused. But this was Hanbin that was speaking and the only thing keeping Hao from pouncing is that fact alone, this was Hanbin.

Almost as if sensing Hao’s apprehension, Hanbin brings Hao’s hand closer to himself, pressing Hao’s fingers against his sternum, right beneath his chest, “Do you,” a beat, fingers dancing across his skin, “Hear it?”

Hao does. There’s something pounding beneath his fingertips, loud and steady, slowly picking up when Hanbin presses his hand even closer. It forces Hao’s hand to go flat against his sternum, smoothing over his skin, scorching him with a licking flame that consumes Hao whole.

God, he wants to kiss Hanbin so bad.

“Hao,” Hanbin’s voice is borderline begging at this point, his eyes drooping behind his glasses like a kicked puppy, “Stop me if you don’t want this.”

A beat. 

Hao’s breathing is much more shallow, blood coursing through his entire body. A flame is eating him alive and the next thing he knows, his fingers are knotted in Hanbin’s hair and he’s slamming their faces into each other. It’s hot and quick, wet lips against one another, Hanbin sighing into the kiss. The younger cups his hand on the back of Hao’s neck, deepening the kiss with a throaty groan, his chest pressed flat against Hao’s racing heartbeat.

It’s everything Hao could ever ask for, Hanbin’s tongue prodding at his lips and they part on instinct. Hanbin works more efficiently and effectively than anyone Hao’s ever kissed, testing every corner of the cavern of Hao’s mouth. He suckles on Hao’s bottom lip, glasses bumping against Hao’s face with every swipe he delves deeper. Then there was the smell, the soft supple milk-like scent that teeters to the realms of persimmons, emitting in waves off Hanbin’s face that presses so dearly close to Hao’s.

Was Hao wrong? Was Hanbin more experienced than he let on?

His nose bumps into Hao, his glasses effectively falling down his face and the innocent look that Hao was so accustomed to blossoms across Hanbin’s face. He lets out a smile that’s the epitome of purity, eyes crinkling and a sheepish chuckle.

“Sorry,” Hanbin mumbles quietly, a blush forming across his dimpled cheeks, “I can’t see.”

He stammers through the words, breaking through the thick tension that hangs between them like a plank. Hao can’t help but laugh, helping Hanbin place the glasses atop his face, using his forefinger to push the nose bridge of it to force it upwards, “All better.” Hao sings.

God he’s so cute. The endearment flows into Hao, a smile mirrored on Hanbin’s face. As if overcome with a sudden rush of adrenaline, Hanbin wraps his arms around Hao’s waist, the older letting out a quiet whimper of surprise.

Hao flushes a bright pink, watching Hanbin’s eyes widen at the noise.

Hao attempts to pull his body back, escaping from the look of surprise on Hanbin’s face. He’s mortified, a choked noise of embarrassment escaping his mouth as he pushes away from Hanbin’s body. But Hanbin’s grip is unrelenting. Instead, he moves them backwards, toppling Hao back-first into the nearby couch. Hanbin lands over Hao, his arm placed on either side of him as a glint catches his eye.

“I’m not done with you quite yet.” Hanbin hums.

“What?” Hao wonders aloud, head still a bit dazed from diving into the couch, though the cushions had helped with the fall. He resists the urge to pinch himself to ask himself if this is really happening. 

Hanbin’s fingers dance at his sides, overtly cautious with how he touches Hao’s skin. His fingers grip at the sides of Hao’s shirt, inching the fabric up inch by inch, Hao letting out a petulant whine for Hanbin to quote unquote, “Hurry the fuck up.” He wishes he could be reasonable, maybe even play into the persona of being older and more experienced. But it all crumbles in Hao’s mind when Hanbin is pressed so close.

Hanbin only shakes his head, abandoning Hao’s shirt and settling between Hao’s legs. His glasses catch onto the lights in their living room and his chest is still littered with a couple sticky-notes that hadn’t quite fallen yet. He looks just as he did the night before, but he had been studying his psychology notes the night prior, not encoding every detail of Hao’s body to memory.

Hao can’t even begin to admire the sight, Hanbin’s hands are stroking his thighs, riding his hands up and down the soft skin, kneading his fingers just around the innards and massaging outwards.

“Bin-mm—” Hao chokes out at the tingling touch, already feeling a bit sticky southwards. His hips buck upwards, embarrassment flushing his entire body when he sees Hanbin’s brows shoot upwards. Was he just that sensitive because of his dry spell, or was it just the effects of Sung Hanbin?

Hanbin’s face melts and he looks excessively ecstatic at Hao’s reaction, a grin replacing his lips as he continues at Hao’s shirt. He lifts the fabric, exposing Hao’s skin to the cold air with a flickering touch, finally pushing it all the way so that Hao’s chest is fully exposed.

“God,” Hanbin throws his head back, his full throat on display as the words come out muffled from him biting down on his lower lip, “You’re so beautiful.”

Hao can’t even reply, body turned to putty in his hands. What was Hanbin even doing to him? Turning his head to the side, afraid of even staring into the eyes of Hanbin that haven’t left Hao and his body since they’ve begun. 

“You know,” Hanbin marvels aloud, letting his hands roam freely all around Hao’s exposed top, “Psych majors are also recommended to take anatomy.” He says off-handedly, “I learned all about this last semester.”

His fingers go up to flick at Hao’s nipple, then rubbing the bud between his fingers. Hao whimpers at the friction, arms thrown over his face in pure mortification. But Hanbin doesn’t cease, only spurred further on when he notices Hao hiding.

“I’d rather see your face hyung,” Hanbin tuts, fitting both of Hao’s wrists in one hand and pinning it above his head, “As I was saying, this is your pectoralis major hm?” Hanbin pushes onto Hao’s upper chest. When Hao doesn’t answer, head too busy spinning, Hanbin flicks at his other nipple to get him to focus.

“Hyung, you’re the anatomy major here, you have to tell me if I’m right or wrong.” Hanbin teases, but he continues, as if he’s hopelessly dedicated to bringing out more and newer noises from Hao, “This is your rectus abdominis,” Hanbin’s fingers are trailing down Hao’s stomach, pushing down flat against his abs with the palm of his hand, “Your obliques,” He smooths his hand over Hao’s waist, pinching at the skin there, “Your adonis belt,” He’s dangerously close to Hao’s waistband letting his hand trace the v-shaped line that dips into Hao’s pants.

Hao’s letting out choked out noises, so turned on just from Hanbin naming each muscle as he outlines Hao’s body. Was he supposed to find this as exhilarating as it feels?  It’s almost as if he’s studying Hao like an art piece, determined to pry apart each and every muscle and inspect every groove and curvature. Hao’s completely lost in the art, succumbing all his needs and pleasures to the other.

Hanbin pulls down Hao’s boxers and pants down in one go, leaving the fabric beneath the cleft of his ass as Hao lifts his hips to aid the other. A small voice within Hao reminds him he shouldn’t be this compliant with Hanbin’s actions, but he disregards it. He couldn’t possibly listen when Hanbin’s perched between his legs looking as disheveled as Hao feels.

“Hyung, this is your adductor longus, no?” Hanbin presses the inner area of Hao’s thigh, earning him a loud high-pitched whine to which Hanbin only chuckles, his hands so close yet so far.

He seems to ignore Hao’s aching problem between his legs, continuing his teasing touches.

“Sung Hanbin,” Hao yelps when Hanbin’s hands continue to inch upwards yet nowhere close enough, “If you don’t hurry up. I’ll kill you.”

“Ooh,” Hanbin whistles, a singular brow cocked upwards, “Threatening.” 

Hao can’t even get a witty remark in because Hanbin’s already inching two fingers towards Hao’s lips, sliding them between his top and bottom and quirking his head to the side, “Open up hyung,” He had freed his hand from holding onto Hao’s wrist and used that hand to tap at Hao’s chin, asking him to follow obediently.

Was that a challenge?

Hao does what any rational man would do. He takes them in. His tongue swirls around the knuckles, putting on a show as he looks up at Hanbin through his lashes, fluttering them up and down. He knows he’s quite a sight like this, pink pouty flushed lips wrapped tightly around the digits, hollowed cheeks to provide a suctioning sensation, tonguing the muscle around and between Hanbin’s knuckles. The knuckles jut out ever so slightly on the side of Hanbin’s fingers, the joint specifically wider than other parts of his finger.

Hanbin pulls out his finger, Hao letting it catch onto his lip on the drag out.

“Fuck,” Hanbin groans, “I think I could come from just looking at you.”

Hao flushes. He’s never been with someone so vocal about their attraction to him, so used to sex being something that happens in a flash. Just the perfect amount of time to de-stress, nothing more, nothing less. But Hanbin liked taking his time, stretching out the moments before he even got to explore his body, like he’s savoring the side dishes before he gets to the main entree. He showers Hao in compliments outside of sex too, loving to make off-handed comments whenever Hao looks good, sometimes even when he doesn’t look all that great.

Hao is beginning to learn that Hanbin likes worshipping him.

There’s a finger prodding at Hao’s entrance, Hao’s head lifting from the couch to watch Hanbin. A rush of panic suddenly fills Hao as he grabs at Hanbin’s wrist, his eyes rounded as he asks,

“Wait,” He eyes Hanbin, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Hanbin laughs, “Hyung,” He pushes Hao back onto his back, Hao’s backside hitting the sofa with a thud, knocking the air from his lungs, “Let me take care of you.”

Hao bites back the comment he wants to make. Had he read Hanbin entirely wrong?

He knows he did when he feels Hanbin circling his ring of muscle. Hao’s body jumps, a bit more sensitive knowing the wet sensation is his own saliva that coats Hanbin’s fingers. Hanbin dips his finger past the ring, fluttering, quick, before drawing back out.

“Bin-ah,” Hao whines, “Please—”

The plea ends up in a choked moan, Hanbin’s finger sliding all the way to the base of his finger, curling upwards as he prods for that specific spot. His fingers are thick, so incredibly so that Hao has to bite the inside of his cheek from letting out the most pathetic noise of his entire career. Hanbin works with Hao’s body like it’s his own, fingers dragging against his walls that has Hao clawing at the couch.

Something occurs in Hao and his breath hitches. The feeling is familiar. So incredibly familiar that—

Hao’s eyes snap wide open, propping his body onto his elbows as Hanbin works him open, the younger incredibly focused on the task at hand. His eyes are zeroed onto Hao’s hole, watching it swallow his finger as he pushes in, curls up, and draws back out, deliciously trekking his fingertips against Hao’s walls. Hao only gets a quick second to study the other before he throws his head back as a wave of pleasure wracks through his entire body. Focusing was a near impossible task with Hanbin’s silence, fingering Hao open with a singular digit.

But he’s determined, bringing his head forward to resume the inspection of the other. 

The tattoos. The one’s between Hanbin’s chest. Realization comes like the morning dawn.

“Are you–” Hao pants, “Are you Binnie?”

Hanbin freezes, finger caught on the ring of muscle. Instead of looking surprised, a smirk grows over his features, Hanbin dipping his head forward to peer at Hao over his glasses, “Hyung, why do you know about Binnie?”

“I–” Hao scrambles for an answer, but Hanbin’s already plunging his finger back in, this time accompanied by a second finger, almost as if encouraged by Hao’s question. All the older can muster is a whimper, Hanbin playing his body like he knows it through aged time, even though this was the first-time they’ve ever lain together. There’s a hot coil building in the base of Hao’s stomach and he can already tell he’s close to unraveling.

“You know hyung,” Hanbin mumbles, inserting a third finger after a couple drags of his second finger, noticing that Hao had adjusted quite well to the new intrusion, “Every time I was on stream, I was thinking about you .” His last word comes out like a whisper, “I kept thinking what it would be like to be this close to you.”

Hao’s mind is everywhere all at once, thinking how deep into the night he had fingered himself to a faceless streamer, not knowing it was his roommate in the room across from his, putting on a complete show while imagining it was him. 

“I imagined just how tight you were,” Hanbin massages at Hao’s prostate, “Wondered how warm and hot you would be inside.”

“Oh God,” Hao all but yelps, “Bin-ah I think I’m close.”

“It’s okay,” Hanbin coos, “Come for me.”

It’s the noise that sends Hao over the edge, the loud squelch that comes from his hole and the mix of his saliva. Hao’s body feels like it’s been electrocuted, body lifting from the couch as his orgasm comes in a constant wave, one after another. If he thought his orgasm from watching the stream two months ago was good, nothing could compare to the real experience, Hao completely seeing white as Hanbin works him through it. Finger still plunging in and out, scraping at his sensitive spot with a newfound vigor.

Hao can barely breathe, resting his arms over his face as two revelations come to him. He just came from Hanbin from his backside only, dick completely untouched. Secondly, Hanbin was the same faceless streamer with far more experience than Hao could’ve ever anticipated.

“Hao,” Hanbin hums, “What are you thinking about right now when I’m right in front of you?” He’s turned back to his innocent self, sliding onto the heels of his feet as he kneels between Hao’s legs, a pout on his lips as he peers at Hao through his glasses. The image completely contrasts his shirtless build, almost looking comical at the way Hanbin's face is so desperate and his body is so incredibly built. God, the disparity from Hanbin’s usual get-up, the look when he begs, and when he’s diving himself knuckle deep inside of Hao is all too much. 

So fucking attractive.

“I’m thinking about,” Hao nudges his foot against Hanbin, “How I want you inside of me.” He breathes in through his nose before exhaling out his mouth, the last condition coming out barely above a breath, “Bare.”

“Oh,” Hanbin’s eyes light up, a gleam flickering across his orbs, “Oh really?” It’s less of a real question and more of a provocative invitation. 

Hao nods.

“Anything for you my princess.” Hanbin salutes goofily, Hao laughing out loud, completely displacing the mood they had created. It breaks through the tension, Hao relaxing a bit into the cushions as he tries to process all that he’s learned in such a short amount of time.

Hanbin is Binnie. Binnie is Hanbin. Hao got off to a livestream of Hanbin long before he knew he liked the other. What were the odds?

There’s the sound of rustling, Hao glancing down to watch Hanbin undoing his slacks. First his belt, fingers working on the metal clasp and discarding it off to the side. Hanbin’s fingers unbutton them before unzipping the entirety of it, sliding them off his legs. Hao notes the wet patch that had formed around the outline of Hanbin’s dick, the other’s length a monstrous size.

“Shit,” Hao whispers, “You’re huge.” Was he even going to fit?

Hanbin knocks his fingers against Hao’s forehead, Hao’s hands flying up to his forehead to rub at the stinging sensation, his lips frowning.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, I’ll stretch you more if you’d like.” Hanbin adds.

Hao shakes his head, “No,” He feels like a desperate virgin again, reborn under the hands of Sung Hanbin, “I need you,”

Hanbin stares at him.

“Now.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Hanbin slides in with a bit of difficulty, the slide dampened with Hanbin slicking his entire length up with Hao’s own cum. The two both gasp at the intrusion, Hao’s eyes feeling like they’re bulging out of his head from the sheer stretch. Hao wiggles the lower half of his body, hoping to help accommodate as his eyes are screwed shut. He’s so incredibly big, hao convinced with every press of Hanbin’s hip deeper into himself, that his thick cock is slowly tearing through his walls.

Hanbin peppers his face in soft kisses, his glasses still occasionally bumping against Hao’s face as he noses against his chin and neck like a dog in heat, “Hyung, you’re so tight.” He whimpers into Hao’s skin, suckling at the base of Hao’s neck.

Don’t say that. I’ll come.

Hao hadn’t realized he hadn’t said a word aloud, only punched out noises that came straight from his gut. He can only nod to let Hanbin know he was okay, tears springing in his eyes not from pain, but pure frustration if Hanbin wouldn’t pick up his pace and spear him through the middle with his cock.

Hao jostles against the couch when Hanbin draws his hips back and thrusts back in, like he’s searching to reach the deepest parts of Hao’s core. A loud moan is getting drawn from both of them, Hanbin’s head thrown back and Hao gripping onto the couch like it's his lifeline.

His previous orgasm seemingly made him more sensitive, every draw of Hanbin’s hips sending an electric current straight to Hao’s spine. He’s dangerously close to coming and it hadn’t even been thirty seconds of the real thing. Hao biting hard down onto his lip to try to distract himself,, but it was growing more and more difficult as Hanbin was fucking into him like he knew every crevice of his being, the way he likes to be plunged into, snapping his hips at an animalistic pace like bringing Hao to an orgasm was the best reward he could ever receive.

“You’re so big,” Hao blabbers, “So big.” His body acts on instinct, hips lifting chasing its final destination of pure pleasure.

“Hao,” Hanbin mutters, driving his hips in the particular angle that draws out every possible noise out of Hao, “I was reading the other day—” Hanbin groans himself when Hao clenches down on him, orgasm crashing through him before Hanbin can finish speaking.

A loud broken moan, Hao twitching against the couch, legs shaking as his second orgasm rips through him with no warning, ropes of hot cum shooting from his neglected cock. There’s spit leaking from the side of Hao’s mouth but he’s too ridden with the haze of his second orgasm to even acknowledge let alone bring a hand up to wipe it away.

But Hanbin’s still thrusting, pulling Hao down onto his cock with an even stronger force.

“I was reading up about squirting for my reproductive health class,” Hanbin moans, “Something about how only the female anatomy can perform it,” He wraps a hand against Hao’s stomach and pushes down, right where his bladder sits, “Because men’s refractory periods are much longer than women.”

Hao’s gone, mind barely processing a single word as Hanbin whimpers through his thrusts. It’s all borderline too much, Hao delirious as he scratches at the couch and thrashes beneath Hanbin, “But I was thinking about how pretty you would be,” Hanbin continues, “Squirting hot liquid all over as I milk you through enough orgasms.” 

Hao’s prostate is beyond abused, Hanbin treating it like a landmark with every thrust of his hips, anchoring all his force into hitting the nail on the head. He’s pistoning Hao’s body against his own, manhandling his limp body with his own arms, slamming Hao down onto his dick with his hands around the older’s waist.

“You can do that for me, can’t you? Hm, baby?”

Hao only nods through his tears, brain half-conscious. He’s out like a light before he can even begin to count how many orgasms Hanbin manages to rip out of him.

────────────────────

When Hao comes to, he’s waist deep inside of his apartment’s bathtub, curled up with his knees pressed together as a solid wall sits behind him, keeping his body from sliding underwater. He can’t seem to recall how much time had passed, a soft kiss placed on his shoulder, Hao blinking through the touches that seemed almost scared to brush against him.

“Hm?” Hao mumbles, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds as he groggily lifts his head. It would be the biggest mistake of his life, Hao immediately feeling a pain shooting up his spine at the action. But there’s a hand placed right against it, soothing it through small circles.

There’s the noise of water splashing, a weight resting onto his shoulder as he looks to the side, “You awake?” Hanbin hums.

Hao has to take a moment to really realize it’s him at first. Hanbin had abandoned his glasses to settle in the bath, hair damp with water that’s pushed back to reveal his forehead that’s usually shrouded by his bangs. He can’t help but giggle, a weak arm lifting to press a finger against the exposed forehead.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” Hanbin mumbles against Hao’s shoulder, arms pulling Hao closer by the waist to lean into his chest. Hao can’t help but notice how clean he feels, hair and scalp tingling as if Hanbin had spent an immense amount of time washing through it. There’s nothing gross between his legs, though he does feel extremely numb from the waist down.

Hao makes a clicking noise with his tongue, “I do know that.” Hanbin hums in agreement.

They share a moment of silence, the warm water soothing the muscles that feel tight all around Hao’s body. He wishes he could spend an eternity like this, wrapped in Hanbin’s arms as they lay in a bathtub together, bodies pressed closely, but the intimacy of their position isn’t in any suggestive nature. Rather, they bask in one another’s company, flushed skin being an indicator of just how close they’ve gotten.

“This isn’t,” Hanbin stutters a bit, nose pressing into Hao’s neck as if he can’t get enough, “This isn’t a one-time thing, is it?”

Hao turns his head to face Hanbin, seeing how the older had effectively drooped at the question. A wide-eyed pleading expression painted all across his face, so entirely different from the Hanbin that Hao had seen mere hours before.

“Well,” Hao squints at Hanbin’s face, trying to read between the lines, “Is that what you want it to be?”

Hanbin frantically shakes his head, water droplets cascading with his hair that shakes free.

Hao breaks out into a smile, “Then it isn’t.”

A loud sigh sounds from the younger, his face back to being pressed into Hao’s neck, “Oh good,” He breathes in, as if inhaling Hao’s scent, “Because I might’ve already told my mom about you.”

Hao mouth gapes, suddenly pulling away and immediately regretting it when his back groans in response, a shooting pain that sports from his spine to his leg. What had Hanbin possibly done to his body? No, no, what was Hanbin telling his mom already?

“Don’t look so alarmed,” Hanbin whispers, “It’s just—” he pauses, splashing his arms in the water beneath them, “Hyung, I really like you.”

“You do?” Hao replies, praying he doesn’t sound as hopeful and desperate as thinks he does. His brain short-circuits and Hao presses back into Hanbin’s touch, enjoying the heat the younger emits when his own body runs a bit more on the colder side.

“I wanted to ask you to be my boyfriend the day I moved in,” Hanbin chuckles to himself, “But I was afraid I’d scare you off.”

Hao’s suddenly filled with a sense of remorse. He remembers how months ago he had spent so much time speculating about Hanbin’s sex life, coding him as a geek who never saw much value in romantic relations. Yet here they were, Hao sitting between Hanbin’s legs as they soak themselves in their shared bathroom.

“I used to think you’d never date,” Hao blurts out, before correcting himself, “Well, dat ed . You dressed yourself in those flannels and were always more focused on your studies than anything else.” He grimaces at his first impression of Hanbin, “You were like someone always out of reach to me.”

“Then what about now?” Hanbin questions, his head rolling to the side on Hao’s shoulder, “What do you think about me now?”

Hao can’t help but laugh when he answers, “I think you’re a freak. You little psycho.” 

Hanbin giggles in response, the noise loud and musical as his chest rises and falls against Hao’s back, “Then since I’m a freak, would it be too soon if I asked you now?”

Hao can’t help but tease the younger for a moment longer, turning his head to gaze into Hanbin’s eyes as his lips curl upwards, fighting off his smile, “Ask me what?”

“Hyung.” Hanbin whines.

He lifts a hand, fingers raking through Hanbin’s hair. Hao was having way too much fun with this, “Bin-ah, what is it that you want to ask me?”

Hanbin takes in a deep breath, his words coming out shaky as his cheeks flush with a prominent red, “Hyung, can I be your boyfriend?”

Hao purses his lips, “Can you?”

There’s the noise of water moving, Hanbin crossing his arms and pulling away from Hao, “Hao.” He says sternly, but it comes off much less threatening from Hanbin's pouting.

Hao presses his back further backwards, crashing into Hanbin as he lets out a hum, “I’m sorry,” He laughs through his apology, “I’m sorry Bin-ah. Of course I will.”

Hanbin’s eyes immediately light up, a melting grin replacing the scrunched brows and jutting lower lip. His arms go to wrap around Hao’s again, no longer sulking by himself in the corner of the bathtub.

Hao was learning many things about the younger in the mere twenty-four hours they spent together. Hanbin was one to sulk, like a drooping puppy in an everyday sense. In the sheets however? A complete and utter monster, the stinging pain that hasn’t subsided in Hao’s back was enough proof.

A sudden memory of their shared intimacy resurfaces and Hao melts against Hanbin as he asks.

“Hanbin-ah,” Hao gazes at the younger who stares at him with stars sparkling within his eyes, “Would you ever let me join you for a livestream?”

“Join me?” Hanbin echoes, “I was kind of hoping you’d forget about it.” He murmurs, almost as if speaking to himself. He sounds hesitant as he continues, tender fingers skimming across Hao’s stomach like a nervous tick, “Hyung, don’t you think it’s weird?”

Hao shakes his head vigorously, “No, I think it’s hot.” He says it so bluntly he even surprises himself, an embarrassed cough coming from Hao as he tries to downplay his comment, “I think it’s hot or whatever.” Hao waves his hand as if dismissing the words.

“Then I’d let you join.”

“Really?” Hao perks up immediately, his voice coming out higher than intended.

“Yes really. Hyung, I’d do anything you asked me to.”

Of course he would.