#lim hanbin

Soft pads brush against Nohea’s bottom lip as his eyes trained, sparkly and longing, up through his bleach blonde locks at another boy who seemed to be the center of his entire world in this heartbeat. His hair is messy and unkempt, having just woken up from a bedhead-worthy nap and his baggy tee shirt barely hangs off his deceivingly thin shoulders. He’s more filled out than he looks from a distance; his love for oversized clothing and material that doesn’t cling to his frame certainly didn’t help much either. Hidden below the duvets, he wore nothing but some pair of Calvin Klein boxers into bed, the silky sheets brushing tenderly against his inner thigh when he sits up a little farther on his ass. 

The other boy, just slightly older than he, had just roused Nohea awake for a meal, warm and prepared by himself and one of their mutual friends. And although Nohea could smell the decadence that wafted through the heavy door of his living quarters, the blonde haired boy finds himself much more attracted to something else. 

The dark orbs that were like pools of dark chocolate, warm and inviting. They swirled and regarded Nohea so respectfully, so dotingly, that he couldn’t help but be drawn; even in his sleep-ridden state.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention at the moment- er, a lie; it was partially the reason, perhaps, but there was something else.

Worry.

Concern for something.

A turmoil that swam in those dark eyes, shielded by thick, pretty lashes. Something was happening- had happened, and his best friend wasn’t happy about it. More than anything, the look is what pulls any lingering grogginess away from Nohea’s mind; effectively sobering him up. 

“What’s wrong?” The blonde boy mumbles quietly, equally gentle hands reaching up to hold his company’s wrist. But it only wrapped delicately around smooth, warm skin. As if afraid that the other boy could shatter like glass or disappear if he held on too firmly. “Did something happen while I was resting? Are the others okay? Maddox?” He murmurs in question, while bringing the other boy’s palm to his lips so that he could press soft affections against his warmth. 

The other, with sable brown locks and those dark eyes full of chaotic thoughts that were evidently not so well hidden, shakes his head and lets his shoulder sigh. The other man allows Nohea to continue with his affections, too burdened by everything else to protest- or maybe he wouldn’t have protested at all, regardless. 

“Just wanted to check on you, is all. There’s a lot going on right now.”

“I know there’s more than that.”

“Well, you’re not well- that’s one. But I guess you’re right. Arlen wrapped himself up with the authorities again-”

“Again?”

“-Again. Cypress is still locked away in isolation because of the last attempt-”

“As it is expected.”

“-Mhm.. Maddox is physically okay, but he’s mentally exhausted, you know? Worrying about all of us like the type of dude he is. But most of all- I miss you. I wish I knew what was making you so sick.”

Again, Nohea presses another kiss to his best friend’s palm. The sentiment makes him tingle, from the place where his lips made contact to the sable haired boy’s skin, to every end of his body; through his veins, down his spine. 

“It’s just how it is, you know? Can’t change the hand that’s been dealt.”

“But I wish I could! I wish you were healthy enough to be active, again.”

“Me too. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, please.”

“Can you just stop being so goddamn stubborn for like two minutes and listen to what I have to say?”

“Yeah and what do you have to say that isn’t lecturing me all the time? That’s all I hear from you, you know. You did this wrong, you did that wrong- there’s never a time where we actually see eye to eye these days and it’s so fucking annoying- you’re so naggy and I hate that about you.”

“Well maybe if you stopped getting into trouble for two seconds and listened to what I had to say, we wouldn’t be in this mess. You think I want to nag at you? But what if Arcadia decides you are no longer worth anything? What if they decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth? What am I supposed to do if they take you and I can’t be there to stop it? Do you even know what you put Maddox through all the time too? You’re such a brat all the time these days and it’s fucking insufferable.”

Well the last bit there hurt.

Angry words and harsh pants from two young men going head to head echo and bounce across their shared bedrooms. No one else is present around them- everyone else has decided to hide from the terrors and the drama that they knew would explode from both the ever exhausted Harlow and ever irritable Arlen. 

Arlen was always in and out of trouble.

Harlow was always stressed as hell.

They almost made the perfect family dynamic- with the stern older brother and the one who had nothing to lose. 

Which meant that their arguments often blew in proportions until neither of them could handle being within even 10 feet of one another. Someone always ended up with more than they asked for- this time, Arlen was the one force fed the consequences of his actions.

Yet his stubborn nature kept him from apologizing or even trying to seem apologetic for the problems he caused. It wasn’t his fault! They were suffering because of the facilities!

He wants so terribly badly to scream at Harlow. To yell at him some more for being equally stupid- uh, stubborn, for not seeing the physical and emotional tolls.

But Arlen finds himself clamping his jaws shut at the mention of Maddox. 

Maddox Kang. 

Their poor friend who, although didn’t seem like he batted much of an eye at any of his questionable choices, often suffered the most while pulling strings behind the scenes to get him out. 

Even if Maddox tried to hide his pain, Arlen knew of it too.

The same way Harlow was aware- too aware, almost. 

The thought of Maddox makes Arlen swallow harshly, to try and rid the knot growing in his throat at the thought of his friend’s suffering. He tries not to think about how his consequences always hit Maddox hardest- like the sharpest slap on the cheek. He tries to swallow down both his stubbornness and pride.

For Maddox. Not Harlow.

“Fine… maybe you’re right just this once.” He concedes simply.

Still finding it too shameful in his headass to admit more. 

Harlow takes what he can from Arlen, regardless.

Both boys shut up as Harlow tips his head slightly in acknowledgment. 

Starry eyes and rosy cheeks and hair softer than the finest strands of silk, a young man stood in his little space, even as the rain poured from the dark sky above. Sable colored hair stuck matted to his temple, and his clothes clung to his frame; but nothing seemed to matter when the soft hands of another brushed against Harlow’s cheekbones and tilted his chin oh so gently. 

It didn’t seem to matter that it was storming, that the rain was pouring and that both men would eventually be so cold, they’d end up shivering in the rain– or have to huddle inside to avoid sickness. It didn’t seem to matter that thunder rolled in the distance, or that there might be impending lightning too. 

It didn’t seem to matter when Harlow looked up at the man that was not much taller than he and all he could see was the kind of adoration he’d been yearning for. Doting, but not too soft- but soft enough for Harlow’s knees to buckle under his own weight, if not for the strong arms wrapped around his waist, holding him up from absolutely crumbling.

Unspoken words hang on both men’s tongues, but neither of them were particularly one for mushy sentiment. No one hesitated, yet no one wanted to speak the words that hung in their thoughts when in the presence of another.

I love you in every universe. Perhaps, someone wanted to proclaim.

If there was a parallel world, there would be another me for another you. Maybe the other would have reflected.

But no one said anything; the pair only stood together in silence, under the pouring rain. 

While love watched them with his own set of adoring eyes. 

Happy to speculate on the fruits of his labor.

Although Jace hadn’t been entirely sure of himself of the two- a rare flash of insecurity, really, amid his usually confident self, he could see it now.

Like a movie with their lives unfolding in front of the lovebirds– oh it could be so sweet. 

A romance that bloomed like the prettiest flowers, they could live their lives together in each other’s company, reminded that despite the hardships and the unfairness of the world, they would have one another to rely on; another shoulder to cry on, another heart to carry. 

Hidden from the mortal view, but with his chin resting in his palm, propped by an elbow, love loved it all. 

But realizing all too soon that these ‘kids’ would eventually catch something from being out in the cold for far too long- as romantic or enticing as kissing in the rain could be, Jace almost mentally wills them inside. 

And thankfully- it kinda works. When he sees one of the two- Torrence, point for the house, before the two begin to move. 

Again, Jace watches the two young men.

But as soon as they were out of sight, love stepped out into the open too, allowing the still pouring rain to soak him to also soak him to the bone. 

The soft squeak of bare feet across laminated floors is the only sound that exists in a mostly silent, dark apartment. It’s maybe around three in the morning and most of the boys had long gone to bed for the night. Tucked away under their covers- as the trio tried to do, when they weren’t cramming for their one final and all. All seems quiet.

Until a fridge door creaks open, the light from within the fridge easily flickering to blind a certain boy with a little too much of an appetite for so early in the morning. His hair is messy and his pajama top is but an oversized, baggy muscle tee that barely hung onto his frame; outlining just how lean he was- though not thin, with the way his muscles flexed under smooth, pale skin. 

The soft rustle of some bag coming out of the aforementioned fridge is the next noise to echo faintly through the room. But not for long, when a voice calls from down the hall.

“Eating so late into the night? You know that’s bad for you.”

A voice pulls Harlow Lim from his thoughts and causes the young man to jump abruptly from his place. He wants to squeak, but pushes it down for the sake of not waking up his roommates. The one that wasn’t currently catching him red handed, anyway.

“Jesus christ- you scared the living shit out of me.” Harlow grumps as he holds out the bag of carrots in one hand and condiments in the other. Closing the fridge door gently, he turns to look at the other man- Arlen, who had accidentally invaded his little… escapade in their shared kitchen. 

“My bad, man.” Arlen laughs, loud and unabashed until Harlow hushes him for fear of rousing Maddox from his slumber too. It didn’t need to be a party in the kitchen right now. It wasn’t Harlow’s goal. “But you really weren’t that subtle, you know. You really were squeaking like some mouse rummaging through our pantry, with all that noise you were making. ‘D make a bad robber, that’s for sure.” 

The eye roll Arlen receives in response is earned. 

But both boys eventually settle into their dining table together, pulling out seats, as Harlow sets the bag of carrots and the jar onto the table. Arlen finds himself automatically grabbing a plate too. Unfurling the bag, Harlow doesn’t think twice when he dips his fingers in to grab the first orange bit out of the bag. He gives the bag a good shake and allows them to fall into the plate as well. 

And all seems fine- Harlow all but shoves a piece into his mouth, while Arlen watches on in mild disgust. “Dude, are you not gonna wash them first? Do you not wash these first? Give me that!” Without waiting for a response, Arlen is quick to swipe the plate from in front of Harlow and beelines for the sink; even as his buddy continues to crunch the one between his teeth. 

The sound of boys tripping their way out of the rowdy third-rate club early in the morning is met with a cleared throat and crossed arms of disapprovement. Looking up from their stumbling steps, arms slung around one another’s shoulders in an attempt to keep themselves from falling, the bunch of them don’t quite know what they were expecting when they met the stern eyes of Maddox Kang.

Said boy in casual attire- nothing more than a flannel, some undershirt, and a pair of jeans. It’s too late- er, early in the morning, to be dressing up nice. Especially when picking up your friends from the damn club.

Nohea is the first to open his mouth, dressed in some equally casual ‘fit and eyes somewhat apologetic, as his muddled mind tries to find something to say- an excuse, an apology, anything to avoid the wrath that he knew Maddox kept somewhere locked within him. He comes up blank though, the world around the man spinning and- how many drinks did he take? Or perhaps his body was still buzzing from the other various activities.

Before Nohea could find it in himself to sober up and confront Maddox’s imposing form, Arlen speaks up- a little too loudly, instead. Taking the spotlight for himself, in all his dark, and generally broody glory. Not to mention he dressed to impress… clearly. (Maddox always thought Arlen was built with godly intentions in mind, but he was never going to admit that- not now, at least.)

“Well, if it isn’t the goody two shoes who thought he was too good to drink with us tonight.” The words slur towards the end and although Arlen had wanted to sound intimidating- Maddox certainly wasn’t fazed. “We had fun, you should have joined in instead of staying home like the loser you were being.”

“Yeah? And if I did get wasted with your ass, who would pick you up at the end of the night, huh? Who would take my place- walk in my shoes?” Maddox knows he’s being irrational and arguing with Arlen in the state that he was in- it was no use and nothing but a waste of time. But the young man couldn’t help it. Irritation clung to his chest, suffocating and tight. Ungrateful asshole.

“Stop being a boring voice of reason, will you? There’s a reason why people say living is dangerous. It keeps things interesting and less… dead. Ya know.”

Before Maddox could continue to argue with his best friend, the third in the trio stands up a little taller than the others and takes a slight stretch in his shoulders before closing the distance between himself and Maddox. 

A hand comes to rest against broad shoulders and Harlow shakes his head gently. “There’s no use arguing with him. He’s definitely had more drinks than I can count tonight. So excuse his behavior, but thanks for picking us up.” Harlow gives the irate boy’s shoulder another gentle pat, “At the very least, I can say I appreciate it. And they will too… in the morning, after they’re hungover and shit.” 

He’ll learn his lesson after that. Is what Harlow wants to say. He knows he’s already made too many excuses for their friend, though.

“Speak for yourself! This asshole didn’t wanna club with me!” Somewhere from behind, Arlen’s voice is indignant, but Harlow quells the waves crashing through Maddox. And the young man merely lets his shoulders sag in a sigh. 

“Well, thank god you’re at least somewhat sober. I mean Nohea’s not that bad either, but I swear, if I had to pick up Arlen’s dumb ass up alone, we probably would have fought right this instant.”

“You love him, though. Drunk or sober, he’s still your best friend. And our friend too.”

And maybe Harlow was right. 

But for the moment- Maddox Kang had never felt distaste for a person more. 

Distaste.

“So, you got any other plans today other than lounging around?”

Laying under the overgrown willow tree with the sunlight filtering through like the mottled pelt of a cat through the leaves, Harlow Lim takes in the just slightly cool morning air. An arm is thrown casually over his eyes as if to shade himself from the sometimes intrusive light whenever the leaves of the tree sway in the soft morning breeze. His dark hair is a stark contrast against the green hues of the grass below him, thick and healthy, and hiding the dirt it thrived in. Beside him, sitting with his back against the thick, strong trunk of the same tree, is another boy with an equally thick book in his lap, the pages flipped to some random spot; though it’s unclear just how much the latter had indulged himself in. His frame blended in much more smoothly with the willow tree and the shade, however. Unlike Harlow. 

Harlow hums to himself in thought. But he doesn’t give the other boy an answer right away. 

The other, Maddox, wasn’t usually in a rush to know anyways. Perfectly content to be relaxing in the crisp morning, just as he was. Under the guard that shielded his persona, the boy was equally as calm as Harlow. If not even more so apathetic. 

It’s summer. Bright and warm. And neither of the boys had anywhere to be or an itch to scratch, to do more than simply enjoy their time. The rustle of the low lying leaves around the pair is peaceful, gently lulling the friends into a slowed down pace. As if their heartbeats have also slowed to match the tranquility of the air today.

Alternatively- things were just quieter and calmer without Arlen’s busy self to fill the void.

Although Harlow loved his friend and roommate all the same. 

He finds that he quite likes this kind of slow pace too.

And so he lets Maddox wait a little bit longer. 

But eventually, the boy laying in the prickly grass lifts his arm off of his eyes and peels one open to gaze at his friend. The one who’d gone back to the text in his lap, presumably believing he would get no response from Harlow. 

“Maybe. It’s a pretty slow day today and I think Arlen’s too busy with some other stuff to hang with us today.” 

Eventually comes a reply, mumbling almost under Harlow’s breath as he moves back into his original position. Without hesitation, he slots his arm back over his eyes, resting against the bridge of his nose and lets out another slow breath. Appreciative and deeply considerate. 

Maddox hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything else to add onto the sentiment. His eyes don’t leave the book to spare another glance, even as he turns the yellow-aged pages. Harlow would have questioned just how much he’d absorbed from the text; but he doesn’t find the energy in him to try this time. 

Instead, both boys allow themselves to enjoy the quietness of each other’s company. Although the grass equally prickles both boys’ skin, no one says anything or complains. Not when everything else seemed quite perfect for a slow morning with a quiet buddy. 

Even if one of them wasn’t exactly being productive at the moment.

“Let’s just leave Arlen to it then, and enjoy the quiet for a bit, yeah? It’s not a luxury when he’s around.” Although perhaps Maddox had poor word choice, both boys knew he meant well. 

It’s just a nice morning.

He just didn’t want to ruin that. 

“You say that like you’re not usually with him; if I didn’t know the two of you better, I’d say you prefer his company more than mine.”

The rustling sound of a conflict breaking out echoes through the otherwise mostly quiet and almost too pristine common area. 

A boy with his lower lip cut and a heavy bruise forming high on one of his cheekbones is shoved into the closest wall to the pair. His hair is messy and his eyes are dark and wild, despite the grunt that is punched out of his lungs at the impact. He resists the urge to wince in pain, but the string travels from his shoulder blades and down his spine, regardless. The arm that braces Maddox Kang against the wall is strong and firm, keeping the young man from fighting back with his body; instead, they’re in each other’s faces, eyes fierce and breaths mingling together in hot puffs against one another’s faces. Maddox regards his aggressor with a hatred that’s nothing short of menacing. 

But the other young man, Arlen Ahn, doesn’t let up; nor does he hesitate under the intensity of the situation. He himself, with his strong chest puffed and build of solid muscles tight and ready for action, sports a scratch of his own against his cheek- the resemblance of nails clawing at his skin sitting so high up it very nearly touches the corner of his eye. Dangerously close. 

Both boys pant with the effort exerted in their not-so-little skirmish, but neither of their resolves want to crumble under the weight of the other. And so they find themselves in a locked position, unable to back down, for fear or for pride. 

Arlen watches the way Maddox’s wild, sable brown fringes fall into his face, the way the other young man has to shake his head in a desperate attempt to pull them away from his face, dirtied and practically sticking with a sheen of sweat. And maybe just a tad bit of blood too. His own choppy, short-clipped hair is not nearly as messy as Maddox’s right now. Equally dirty however, absolutely, and somehow- the man finds his opponent to be much more… charming at the moment. 

When the aggressor realizes that his prey couldn’t escape in the position he’d been pinned to, Arlen couldn’t help but smirk proudly, knowing Maddox would be able to catch it, despite the proximity. They’re so close in one another’s spaces that their noses are practically touching.

“What, are you looking for a deal with the devil?” A sadistic style of mirth sits heavy on Arlen’s tongue and he grins, feline-like and deadly. It didn’t help that the government assigned role for Arlen, though most of his teammates simply referred to him as Ren, had been demonic in nature- quite literally. Azazel the Revived Demon. “Careful my little sweetheart, if you don’t give up soon, you’ll burn up, hot as hell.”

The sound of a tongue clicking against the roof of Maddox’s mouth makes the muscles in ‘Ren’s body twitch. Not good enough- not the reaction he was looking for. Screams through his mind. “What am I gonna do with a soul anyway? It’s not like I’ve got much to look forward to. Though I think I’d be hotter than hell once I crawl out, don’t you think?.” Although his words cut like the incisors of a canine, the ever-present lilt tells Arlen that Mads isn’t even considering his threat a serious one. The Rogue Maverick seemed quite fitting of the government assigned role, at this moment.

Annoying little brat.

Although Arlen wants to say more, a firm grip on his shoulder pulls the man’s attention away from Maddox and looking up- both boys spy the familiar face of Harlow Lim. The look in his eyes is pointed, an unamused look sitting pretty on his features. 

“Let go of him, will you, Ren? You two are like bad pets. Or the kitty and the puppy who can’t seem to get along.” The tone of the third boy to join is exasperated to say the least. Not that it surprised any of the trio. 

Pulling Arlen off of Maddox, Harlow makes a shooing motion towards the former and holds out a hand for the latter to take. Taking his turn to haul Maddox from the wall, he gives the young man a once over and a gentle pat on the shoulder, huffing as he takes another look at Arlen.

“Let me guess, who started the fight this time? You or Maddox, because my bet is on you right now, Arlen.”

Looking offended, yet the man being mildly admonished couldn’t find his voice to protest. He did start the little tussle after all. As it was normal for him to do so. Like a bad kid who only knew how to break the rules and hurt his peers in this goddamn cage of a government facility. 

“Yeah, whatever. So what if I did start something? It’s in my blood, remember?”

A soft, yet stern hand from Harlow ruffles Arlen’s hair messy. He doesn’t protest, despite what someone else might think. 

“If you can’t play nice, then leave Maddox alone, he’s not your toy.” The tone from Harlow is final and Arlen says nothing more.

He really shouldn’t, but Maddox feels just the tinge of pride and smugness as the government deemed ‘Devoted Archangel’ takes his stance in the scuffle. It’s not even as if it makes much of a difference to Maddox; he had never been one to rely on another for support or anything of that sort. 

But anyone who was against Arlen at the moment (this one or any other, honestly) was a friend of his. 

He couldn’t help the slight smirk that breaks across his face, despite all efforts to keep it hidden under the expressionless mask.

Of course, Arlen catches it from the other side of Harlow. Of course it immediately makes the other boy’s blood pressure rise again; always the ticking time bomb of the three. 

“What are you so smug about, you little bitch– just wait until I get my hands around your neck-”

“Oh, that’s kinky.”

“You–”

Needless to say, it’s Harlow who has to cut the pair off from one another for the afternoon. After all, he wasn’t Arcadia’s assigned peacekeeper for nothing. Unfortunately.

[x] 

Later, it’s Maddox with his hand wrapped in a tight fist around the leather material of Arlen’s collar though. 

Much to the ‘demon’s anguish.

Heh.

It’s past dusk by the time Harlow Lim makes his way up the complex and unlocks his shared apartment door. The sun’s well below the horizon by the time said door swings open, weighted and slow. It’s already past eight into the evening by the time Harlow slips off his sneakers and slides his bag off his shoulders. His loose fitted jacket is shed off next, hung on the rack next to the door; and the young man’s left in only his oversized tee and some pair of sweats he’d deemed vaguely appropriate enough for his library study trip. 

The apartment is mostly dimmed, the lights only conservatively turned on to the lowest setting available- an agreement the boys had made about saving energy when they first moved in together. Harlow still remembers when he offered to pay any extra electricity bills if it’d help- but the others merely declined his offer, spewing something along the lines of ‘if we’re not going to be using the lights in that room, it’ll just be a waste to leave it on, anyway’. But the young man still believes it’s partially in fear of going over the set limit every month. (Although their monthly rent for the unit bundled in the utilities, anything over the cap was out of pocket- their own to pay.)

It’s quiet when Harlow steps into the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water. Save for the soft murmurs that sing through their common room not far off. 

There’s a single lamp by the couch in the common room. The rest of the lights dimmed to the lowest, much like the rest of the apartment. 

Harlow tries not to intrude, as he makes his way towards the voices, knowing that they must have come from his two current roommates. The third, named Blue, moved out just recently to live with a boyfriend of his- or whatever. Leaving the nest, sort of speaking- and leaving the other boys to their own devices; not that they needed him to look after their asses, though. 

By the entryway, the young man catches two shapes in the darkness, one lounging casually on the couch, another with his head in his lap. 

The former of the two is all dark and broody, sinful looking with the way the light flickers off his tanned, toned skin. His eyes are sharp and his physique is broad and for the most part- he’s the most intimidating both inside and outside of Harlow’s close circle of friends. But he doesn’t look intimidating now; and despite Harlow’s angle, he could still make out the gentle softness in his eyes as he looks down at the second boy in his lap, whispering softly between the pair as he fondly pets the other’s hair. Arlen Ahn. Or Ren, as he called himself. 

The latter, Maddox Kang, lays with his head in Ren’s lap, hair already a mess with the way Ren had been seemingly mindlessly playing with his hair- for who knows how long, Harlow isn’t sure. Maddox’s own physique is hidden in the shadows of the common room, melting into the darkness wherever the soft, artificial light couldn’t quite reach his skin. It muddles his silhouette into Ren’s. But his face is gentle, unlike Ren’s, with crescent shaped eyes and plush-pink lips. Harlow would have been a fool to think he was fragile in any way, however; strong muscles rippled under smooth, milky-pale skin. The product of a strong athletics-involved career. It’s just that Maddox happened to carry more delicate features- an a style that couldn’t be more different from Ren’s.

Together, the two looked like they fit together in a way that the universe had called for them to. Complimenting one another; and if Harlow hadn’t known any better, he would have felt a little left out right about now. 

But he knew (better).

Like best friends who have been seeking each other out for all their lives, the pair had always been inseparable in a… strongly bound sort of way. Not brothers or bound by blood, no. But best buddies, the kind that were glued to one another’s side and ready to step into action at a moment’s notice. Harlow could count more than once when Ren had gotten a little snappy at someone who flew too close to the sun and tested his patience… 

“So… y’all gonna just continue ignoring me and not welcome me home, or what?” Harlow’s voice breaks the silence, full of mirth.