Outsider
Title: Outsider
Rating: PG
Pairing: Han Geng/Kim Jaejoong (JYJ)
Warnings: Mushy as hell
Word count: Around 2600
Summary: No one has ever made Hangeng feel this warm
A/N: Wow it's my first Oneshot. I love crossover a whole lot okay. And no, this ain't any crack pairing, shit is real. From what I know Jaejoong was from the first and few ones that ever talked to Hangeng when he first came from China, and was the one who taught him Korean, so yeah feel free to ship it please. Thanks.
That one track that inspired me to write this yeah
It was funny how Hangeng could write poems in his native tongue so easily, words coming out fluid and without any hesitation; it was also funny how sometimes fate liked to play such tricky schemes on life and somehow made him end up stuck up in a country where he knew no one, nor could talk to no one, since everytime he tried communicating he was laughed at or frowned upon.
It was funny to him since all he would do on his spare time, besides trying to gain some sleep or trying to find anything edible, was to write poetry to no one in particular. For someone who came moneyless and homeless from their hometown, with only their dancing skills as the shield that would protect them from being thrown away from the company, it wasn’t really that hard.
It could have been better, Hangeng sometimes allowed himself to think that, but hey, he was actually expecting much worse than this.
Still, the fact he was obviously trying very hard was easy for anyone to see. People who had been there for less time than him held already much higher chances of debuting first, be it either for their much greater talent, or for the fact they came from a much wealthier and influential family, or perhaps because of their better looks; it didn’t really matter, Hangeng was still trying very hard to fit in, with not much success, of course.
He spoke no Korean, and no one in Korea would talk in Chinese with him. Sometimes he was mistreated and discriminated because he was Chinese, and Hangeng couldn’t help it. It embarrassed him; not the fact he was Chinese, but the fact he seemed so inoffensive and helpless, almost pathetic, a defenseless giant having his nerves wrecked by poisonous, annoying dwarves.
He would write anything that would cross his mind, trying to make it sound as elegant and perfect as ever, but he still had no one to share his scribbled down thoughts with. It wasn’t like he tried approaching new people, it wasn’t like new people tried approaching him either.
It was just that way, he was the loner who hanged out with no one in particular; sometimes he would be the stupid Chinese man who didn’t talk; what the hell was he doing there in Korea when he didn’t speak the language, not even a bit?
Hangeng sighed again as he gathered his stuff back to the pack he used to carry along when he practiced. He had been dancing the crap out of his body for more than fifteen hours that day solely and his limbs felt numb, he was hungry, sleepy, and somewhat moody.
He opened his box of lunch he had prepared at home earlier only to remember he had eaten it a few hours ago, letting out a worn out sigh he just closed the box, placed it back into the backpack and decided to focus on anything else that wasn’t food or his starving stomach.
He was sure if he would just ignore it and let it go on the hunger would eventually realize Hangeng wasn’t going to do anything to satisfy it and it would just go away.
Slowly, he searched through his backpack again and pulled out a ball pen and the notebook he always carried along. The notebook was old, and the pale shade of the rusty-yellowed sheets could easily be noticed, but it was the only notebook he could keep with him when he left China.
Slowly Hangeng started writing, composing short fragments of poetry with everything his mind came to think about. Be it food, starving, the nice kids that practiced alongside him, those stuck up ones that thought they were better than anyone else…
His stomach grumbled; he then remembered he hasn’t had anything in more than three hours and there were still a few good hours left until he could go rest to his dorm.
Suddenly a deliciously smelling heat overwhelmed his senses and Hangeng found himself staring down a very good looking fried egg accompanied by tomato sauce and cheese that was graciously placed into a plastic bowl that was being held right beneath his nose.
He noticed the pair or skinny arms that held the recipient and tracked them down to the slender frame attached to them. Right above the slim torso he could see a head with raven hear and deep dark eyes that looked into him with such intensity it sent Hangeng’s spine short, sporadic shivers.
“Here, you can have this” the rose petals the man tried to pass off as lips opened, and Hangeng wondered if the man wasn’t actually a male Asian Barbie-doll version brought to life.
Hangeng uttered a broken ‘thank you’ in Korean before taking the bowl out of the stranger’s hands; okay, not exactly a stranger, he thought; Hangeng was pretty sure it was that, and he quoted, ‘pale ice prince whom that Yoochun dork is so protective of’ Heechul liked to talk about; he had seen him on practices, and he could tell the boy was very much liked by everyone.
“No problem” the soft voice replied calmly. “I myself cooked it…I was planning on eating it but you can have it now”
“I…cannot…eat…this yours…” Hangeng tried replying. He knew his Korean wasn’t the best, but he had been quite sure he could at least form a coherent short sentence, but somehow his tongue was seemingly tangling itself within his mouth this time around.
“It’s okay…you need it more, you have a dance practice next, while I can already go home”
The stranger smiled and Hangeng’s stomach twitched in some kind of discomfort?
“Thank you…” the eldest muttered.
“By the way, what’s your name?” the boy asked, his huge eyes captivating Hangeng. ‘He looks like he just popped out of a cartoon’ he thought to himself.
“Huh?” the raven hair tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out what the older just said. “What did you say?” Oh, so was he thinking out loud again?
“Uh…” Hangeng hesitated. He surely didn’t know how to reply, even though he was sure he had already learnt how to present oneself in his Korean classes, his mind was not working alright. Something was surely going wrong. “I- uh…Hangeng…uh…China, no, Chinese, uhm…”
He had to stop talking. He was obviously making a fool out of himself, and it was of no help the fact this very interesting creature was struggling to keep his face straight instead of bursting into laughter.
“Your Korean is so cute!” he said, almost squealing, covering his pearl white teeth with his gracious hands. “But you don’t say it like that…you say it like this: My name is Jaejoong, I am Korean, nice to meet you…”
Hangeng blinked twice, thrice. His mind quickly trying understanding what exactly was it the boy said.
“Except that you have to replace the Jaejoong and the Korean with your name and nationality instead” he quickly added.
“My name is…uh…Hangeng…and I am china…”
“You are not China, you are Chinese” the young male called Jaejoong corrected, smiling heartwarmingly.
“Oh, yes…I am Chinese” Hangeng amended.
“Oh, so you are the Chinese trainee who recently arrived?” Jaejoong quickly seemed to brighten up. “Hankyung, right?”
“Uhm, yes…” Hangeng tried responding, not yet fully used to being called by his Korean name his teacher gave him.
“I have seen you dance, and you are so fantastic! You are so skillful!”
“Thanks”
“Heard you were chosen over more than three thousand other contestants…man that’s what I would call talent!” Jaejoong quickly beamed, smiling gently. Hangeng couldn’t help but feel flattered; it was the first time someone ever praised him like that ever since he got there, he could even feel the blood rush through his cheeks. “Your dance is so smooth and you make it seem as if it was the easiest thing on earth!”
Hangeng looked up to the boy that was sitting next to him and smiled.
“Oh but I am being too rude!” Jaejoong quickly added. “I haven’t even presented myself properly! My name is Kim Jaejoong, I am Korean, and don’t speak a word of mandarin, so sorry if I can’t understand what you just said before…I am a trainee too”
“Jae…Jaejoong” Hangeng tried repeating the name.
“That’s right; that’s my name”
“Nic- nice to meet you…” Hangeng tried saying
Jaejong smiled kindly, which pretty much made Hangeng’s stomach twitch again.
“Nice to me you too, er, Hankyung? Is it okay if I call you that?”
“Yes, it is okay” Hangeng replied, glad that he could blurt out coherent words at last. Jaejoong then tapped the hand he was holding the plastic box with.
“You should eat now” he suggested sheepishly. “You must be starving, and I only keep bothering you with my silly questions…feel free to eat now”
Hangeng obeyed, and he seriously could have sworn it was the best meal he had ever tasted ever.
“Does it taste good?”
“Yes, it does” Hangeng replied, and then proceeded to take another munch of the egg.
-
Time flies, and Hangeng could have sworn he couldn’t feel the fleeting days of that 2001. He shrugged the passing seasons as mere days or weeks and when he looked again at the calendar, it was February of 2002. It officially had been a year ever since he arrived to Korea, and although he missed his homeland and his family and friends dearly, he wasn’t normally one to cause such a big fuss about it. Or even so, he couldn’t possibly say he was feeling sad about not being right now at home; nostalgic, yes, but never sad.
It was funny, he thought, how the same day of his arrival collided with Jaejoong’s birthday.
He lent the youngster the gift carefully wrapped in bright neon blue envelope paper.
“Happy Birthday, Jaejoong” he said in a low, voice, still not confident on his newly-acquired Korean skills, courtesy of spending his morning and afternoons with Jaejoong, who was kind enough to teach him Korean.
Jaejoong’s eyes smiled, alongside his lips. To Hangeng the goosebumps (or twitching, whatever they were) he got whenever he was close to Jaejoong were already a custom, and he quickly got used to feeling them. He liked that feeling anyway so it wasn’t like he was complaining at all.
“Thanks” Jaejoong bowed, holding the gift close to his chest. “May I open it?” he asked.
“Sure” Hangeng replied.
Tearing off the wrapping, Jaejoong soon was facing a black box. It was of medium size and by looking at it you could work out the product that lied within wasn’t of a well-renowned brand, but Jaejoong didn’t care, he just opened it.
He found inside a dragon-like shaped pendant made of light-colored glass; it was big, and somehow heavy. Jaejoong stared in awe at the present.
“Do you like it?” Hangeng asked.
“It’s beautiful” he replied, almost automatically.
“Mother, eh, she sent it to me…but you like it better”
The youngster embraced the eldest, a warm smile taking over his beautiful features as her could feel warm tears of joy rolling down his white skin.
“Thank you; thank you for everything…you have been so kind to me it’s almost a blessing…”
Hangeng hugged him even tighter, holding him closer to his chest.
“Thanks for being my friend too…” he tried replying.
Jaejoong broke apart the embrace; he searched through his pocket in aims of finding something in there. He finally pulled out a much tinier envelope and proceeded then to give it to Hangeng.
“Here it is” he simply stated; blushing a little bit due the embarrassment of his being a much tinier gift.
“Why?” Hangeng looked up.
“This is also a gift…for you” Jaejoong tried explaining, gaze diverting away; as if fearing his friend could actually see the way he felt by looking at him in the eye, the fact he had such big orbs wasn’t of any help at all; they always mirrored his ulterior being. He constantly wondered if he would really become that of a great liar when he becomes famous -if he ever gets to debut, of course. “Hankyung hyung, it’s been a whole year ever since you came here, and I am so glad I got to meet you”
Hangeng just simply smiled, feeling a tad uneasy for the fact his heart was thumping so hard it was almost deafening him. Grabbing the box from Jaejoong’s hands, he proceeded to open it.
Within the pack there was a letter -a handwritten one, he noted, and a little dragon-shaped charm for a cell phone -which he didn’t own since he couldn’t afford one at that time.
“It’s…beautiful…” he said.
“I bought it thinking of you…”Jaejoong said, blushing a little. “You know, a dragon is sometimes quickly associated with China…so I wanted you to remember your land”
Hangeng smiled awkwardly; making eye-contact with the other lad, smiling almost immediately.
“I miss China a lot”
“I suppose you do” Jaejoong quickly smiled, covering his pearly white smile.
“But…I have friend …so the pain is less” Hangeng quickly added, pulling down Jaejoong’s hands from his mouth.
The hugged each other, holding each other close to their hearts. Jaejoong quickly his raven head into the foreigner’s chest and Hangeng couldn’t help but inhale the other’s sweet essence -vanilla. And they stayed like that for some more time later, in silence, since any more words weren’t really necessary at all, and Hangeng wondered whether his Jaejoong -the friend he held most dear to his heart, could hear the crazed beat of his heart, which could as well resemble the acting of a runaway horse.
“My hands are cold” Jaejoong quietly murmured, Hangeng looked down at him.
Holding the youngster’s hands with both of his, separating them from Hangeng’s frame, he united both pairs of hands, making sure he covered Jaejoong’s with his totally; he placed them on his chest, and proceeded to pull Jaejoong into yet another embrace.
“Are you cold now?” he asked.
“No, not anymore…thanks” Jaejoong hid his flushed face discreetly into Hangeng’s chest again.
If Hangeng’s Korean wasn’t so bad, he would have liked to tell the young boy that was now breathing hard into his skin that he wanted him to feel the same warmth he felt rise within his insides whenever he was with Jaejoong. Because Jaejoong made him feel as if he wasn’t really an outsider in such a strange town, because Jaejoong made him feel wanted, or at least not despised at all.
Because no one has ever made Hangeng feel this warm; at least not in his short life span.
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Rating: PG
Pairing: Han Geng/Kim Jaejoong (JYJ)
Warnings: Mushy as hell
Word count: Around 2600
Summary: No one has ever made Hangeng feel this warm
A/N: Wow it's my first Oneshot. I love crossover a whole lot okay. And no, this ain't any crack pairing, shit is real. From what I know Jaejoong was from the first and few ones that ever talked to Hangeng when he first came from China, and was the one who taught him Korean, so yeah feel free to ship it please. Thanks.
That one track that inspired me to write this yeah
It was funny how Hangeng could write poems in his native tongue so easily, words coming out fluid and without any hesitation; it was also funny how sometimes fate liked to play such tricky schemes on life and somehow made him end up stuck up in a country where he knew no one, nor could talk to no one, since everytime he tried communicating he was laughed at or frowned upon.
It was funny to him since all he would do on his spare time, besides trying to gain some sleep or trying to find anything edible, was to write poetry to no one in particular. For someone who came moneyless and homeless from their hometown, with only their dancing skills as the shield that would protect them from being thrown away from the company, it wasn’t really that hard.
It could have been better, Hangeng sometimes allowed himself to think that, but hey, he was actually expecting much worse than this.
Still, the fact he was obviously trying very hard was easy for anyone to see. People who had been there for less time than him held already much higher chances of debuting first, be it either for their much greater talent, or for the fact they came from a much wealthier and influential family, or perhaps because of their better looks; it didn’t really matter, Hangeng was still trying very hard to fit in, with not much success, of course.
He spoke no Korean, and no one in Korea would talk in Chinese with him. Sometimes he was mistreated and discriminated because he was Chinese, and Hangeng couldn’t help it. It embarrassed him; not the fact he was Chinese, but the fact he seemed so inoffensive and helpless, almost pathetic, a defenseless giant having his nerves wrecked by poisonous, annoying dwarves.
He would write anything that would cross his mind, trying to make it sound as elegant and perfect as ever, but he still had no one to share his scribbled down thoughts with. It wasn’t like he tried approaching new people, it wasn’t like new people tried approaching him either.
It was just that way, he was the loner who hanged out with no one in particular; sometimes he would be the stupid Chinese man who didn’t talk; what the hell was he doing there in Korea when he didn’t speak the language, not even a bit?
Hangeng sighed again as he gathered his stuff back to the pack he used to carry along when he practiced. He had been dancing the crap out of his body for more than fifteen hours that day solely and his limbs felt numb, he was hungry, sleepy, and somewhat moody.
He opened his box of lunch he had prepared at home earlier only to remember he had eaten it a few hours ago, letting out a worn out sigh he just closed the box, placed it back into the backpack and decided to focus on anything else that wasn’t food or his starving stomach.
He was sure if he would just ignore it and let it go on the hunger would eventually realize Hangeng wasn’t going to do anything to satisfy it and it would just go away.
Slowly, he searched through his backpack again and pulled out a ball pen and the notebook he always carried along. The notebook was old, and the pale shade of the rusty-yellowed sheets could easily be noticed, but it was the only notebook he could keep with him when he left China.
Slowly Hangeng started writing, composing short fragments of poetry with everything his mind came to think about. Be it food, starving, the nice kids that practiced alongside him, those stuck up ones that thought they were better than anyone else…
His stomach grumbled; he then remembered he hasn’t had anything in more than three hours and there were still a few good hours left until he could go rest to his dorm.
Suddenly a deliciously smelling heat overwhelmed his senses and Hangeng found himself staring down a very good looking fried egg accompanied by tomato sauce and cheese that was graciously placed into a plastic bowl that was being held right beneath his nose.
He noticed the pair or skinny arms that held the recipient and tracked them down to the slender frame attached to them. Right above the slim torso he could see a head with raven hear and deep dark eyes that looked into him with such intensity it sent Hangeng’s spine short, sporadic shivers.
“Here, you can have this” the rose petals the man tried to pass off as lips opened, and Hangeng wondered if the man wasn’t actually a male Asian Barbie-doll version brought to life.
Hangeng uttered a broken ‘thank you’ in Korean before taking the bowl out of the stranger’s hands; okay, not exactly a stranger, he thought; Hangeng was pretty sure it was that, and he quoted, ‘pale ice prince whom that Yoochun dork is so protective of’ Heechul liked to talk about; he had seen him on practices, and he could tell the boy was very much liked by everyone.
“No problem” the soft voice replied calmly. “I myself cooked it…I was planning on eating it but you can have it now”
“I…cannot…eat…this yours…” Hangeng tried replying. He knew his Korean wasn’t the best, but he had been quite sure he could at least form a coherent short sentence, but somehow his tongue was seemingly tangling itself within his mouth this time around.
“It’s okay…you need it more, you have a dance practice next, while I can already go home”
The stranger smiled and Hangeng’s stomach twitched in some kind of discomfort?
“Thank you…” the eldest muttered.
“By the way, what’s your name?” the boy asked, his huge eyes captivating Hangeng. ‘He looks like he just popped out of a cartoon’ he thought to himself.
“Huh?” the raven hair tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out what the older just said. “What did you say?” Oh, so was he thinking out loud again?
“Uh…” Hangeng hesitated. He surely didn’t know how to reply, even though he was sure he had already learnt how to present oneself in his Korean classes, his mind was not working alright. Something was surely going wrong. “I- uh…Hangeng…uh…China, no, Chinese, uhm…”
He had to stop talking. He was obviously making a fool out of himself, and it was of no help the fact this very interesting creature was struggling to keep his face straight instead of bursting into laughter.
“Your Korean is so cute!” he said, almost squealing, covering his pearl white teeth with his gracious hands. “But you don’t say it like that…you say it like this: My name is Jaejoong, I am Korean, nice to meet you…”
Hangeng blinked twice, thrice. His mind quickly trying understanding what exactly was it the boy said.
“Except that you have to replace the Jaejoong and the Korean with your name and nationality instead” he quickly added.
“My name is…uh…Hangeng…and I am china…”
“You are not China, you are Chinese” the young male called Jaejoong corrected, smiling heartwarmingly.
“Oh, yes…I am Chinese” Hangeng amended.
“Oh, so you are the Chinese trainee who recently arrived?” Jaejoong quickly seemed to brighten up. “Hankyung, right?”
“Uhm, yes…” Hangeng tried responding, not yet fully used to being called by his Korean name his teacher gave him.
“I have seen you dance, and you are so fantastic! You are so skillful!”
“Thanks”
“Heard you were chosen over more than three thousand other contestants…man that’s what I would call talent!” Jaejoong quickly beamed, smiling gently. Hangeng couldn’t help but feel flattered; it was the first time someone ever praised him like that ever since he got there, he could even feel the blood rush through his cheeks. “Your dance is so smooth and you make it seem as if it was the easiest thing on earth!”
Hangeng looked up to the boy that was sitting next to him and smiled.
“Oh but I am being too rude!” Jaejoong quickly added. “I haven’t even presented myself properly! My name is Kim Jaejoong, I am Korean, and don’t speak a word of mandarin, so sorry if I can’t understand what you just said before…I am a trainee too”
“Jae…Jaejoong” Hangeng tried repeating the name.
“That’s right; that’s my name”
“Nic- nice to meet you…” Hangeng tried saying
Jaejong smiled kindly, which pretty much made Hangeng’s stomach twitch again.
“Nice to me you too, er, Hankyung? Is it okay if I call you that?”
“Yes, it is okay” Hangeng replied, glad that he could blurt out coherent words at last. Jaejoong then tapped the hand he was holding the plastic box with.
“You should eat now” he suggested sheepishly. “You must be starving, and I only keep bothering you with my silly questions…feel free to eat now”
Hangeng obeyed, and he seriously could have sworn it was the best meal he had ever tasted ever.
“Does it taste good?”
“Yes, it does” Hangeng replied, and then proceeded to take another munch of the egg.
-
Time flies, and Hangeng could have sworn he couldn’t feel the fleeting days of that 2001. He shrugged the passing seasons as mere days or weeks and when he looked again at the calendar, it was February of 2002. It officially had been a year ever since he arrived to Korea, and although he missed his homeland and his family and friends dearly, he wasn’t normally one to cause such a big fuss about it. Or even so, he couldn’t possibly say he was feeling sad about not being right now at home; nostalgic, yes, but never sad.
It was funny, he thought, how the same day of his arrival collided with Jaejoong’s birthday.
He lent the youngster the gift carefully wrapped in bright neon blue envelope paper.
“Happy Birthday, Jaejoong” he said in a low, voice, still not confident on his newly-acquired Korean skills, courtesy of spending his morning and afternoons with Jaejoong, who was kind enough to teach him Korean.
Jaejoong’s eyes smiled, alongside his lips. To Hangeng the goosebumps (or twitching, whatever they were) he got whenever he was close to Jaejoong were already a custom, and he quickly got used to feeling them. He liked that feeling anyway so it wasn’t like he was complaining at all.
“Thanks” Jaejoong bowed, holding the gift close to his chest. “May I open it?” he asked.
“Sure” Hangeng replied.
Tearing off the wrapping, Jaejoong soon was facing a black box. It was of medium size and by looking at it you could work out the product that lied within wasn’t of a well-renowned brand, but Jaejoong didn’t care, he just opened it.
He found inside a dragon-like shaped pendant made of light-colored glass; it was big, and somehow heavy. Jaejoong stared in awe at the present.
“Do you like it?” Hangeng asked.
“It’s beautiful” he replied, almost automatically.
“Mother, eh, she sent it to me…but you like it better”
The youngster embraced the eldest, a warm smile taking over his beautiful features as her could feel warm tears of joy rolling down his white skin.
“Thank you; thank you for everything…you have been so kind to me it’s almost a blessing…”
Hangeng hugged him even tighter, holding him closer to his chest.
“Thanks for being my friend too…” he tried replying.
Jaejoong broke apart the embrace; he searched through his pocket in aims of finding something in there. He finally pulled out a much tinier envelope and proceeded then to give it to Hangeng.
“Here it is” he simply stated; blushing a little bit due the embarrassment of his being a much tinier gift.
“Why?” Hangeng looked up.
“This is also a gift…for you” Jaejoong tried explaining, gaze diverting away; as if fearing his friend could actually see the way he felt by looking at him in the eye, the fact he had such big orbs wasn’t of any help at all; they always mirrored his ulterior being. He constantly wondered if he would really become that of a great liar when he becomes famous -if he ever gets to debut, of course. “Hankyung hyung, it’s been a whole year ever since you came here, and I am so glad I got to meet you”
Hangeng just simply smiled, feeling a tad uneasy for the fact his heart was thumping so hard it was almost deafening him. Grabbing the box from Jaejoong’s hands, he proceeded to open it.
Within the pack there was a letter -a handwritten one, he noted, and a little dragon-shaped charm for a cell phone -which he didn’t own since he couldn’t afford one at that time.
“It’s…beautiful…” he said.
“I bought it thinking of you…”Jaejoong said, blushing a little. “You know, a dragon is sometimes quickly associated with China…so I wanted you to remember your land”
Hangeng smiled awkwardly; making eye-contact with the other lad, smiling almost immediately.
“I miss China a lot”
“I suppose you do” Jaejoong quickly smiled, covering his pearly white smile.
“But…I have friend …so the pain is less” Hangeng quickly added, pulling down Jaejoong’s hands from his mouth.
The hugged each other, holding each other close to their hearts. Jaejoong quickly his raven head into the foreigner’s chest and Hangeng couldn’t help but inhale the other’s sweet essence -vanilla. And they stayed like that for some more time later, in silence, since any more words weren’t really necessary at all, and Hangeng wondered whether his Jaejoong -the friend he held most dear to his heart, could hear the crazed beat of his heart, which could as well resemble the acting of a runaway horse.
“My hands are cold” Jaejoong quietly murmured, Hangeng looked down at him.
Holding the youngster’s hands with both of his, separating them from Hangeng’s frame, he united both pairs of hands, making sure he covered Jaejoong’s with his totally; he placed them on his chest, and proceeded to pull Jaejoong into yet another embrace.
“Are you cold now?” he asked.
“No, not anymore…thanks” Jaejoong hid his flushed face discreetly into Hangeng’s chest again.
If Hangeng’s Korean wasn’t so bad, he would have liked to tell the young boy that was now breathing hard into his skin that he wanted him to feel the same warmth he felt rise within his insides whenever he was with Jaejoong. Because Jaejoong made him feel as if he wasn’t really an outsider in such a strange town, because Jaejoong made him feel wanted, or at least not despised at all.
Because no one has ever made Hangeng feel this warm; at least not in his short life span.
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