Chapter Text
It starts, as many things do, at a party.
Well, Ricky’s not quite sure if you could even call it a party. He would know, of course, and he’s very sure that meeting up with friends at one of their houses (or apartments, in this case) to hang out doesn’t quite qualify as a ‘party’. But Gyuvin insisted that because alcohol was present, it was a wild occasion that his child (a seventeen-year-old boy) could not attend.
Ricky had shrugged and left Gyuvin and Yujin to argue between themselves.
It seems that Yujin had won that argument with the stipulation of an eleven o’clock curfew, and since it’s now two in the morning he’s been long gone. Gunwook had left with him too, saying that he ‘didn’t want Yujin to feel left out’, and Matthew had… something due, so he’d scurried off soon after.
The short hand on the clock that Ricky is pretty sure Gyuvin can’t read is disturbingly close to three, but he decides that he doesn’t really care because he’ll still have Sunday to sleep off whatever stupid decisions he makes.
Which just leaves the four of them – Hao, Gyuvin, Ricky, and Hao’s boyfriend Hanbin – sitting in what would be a circle but is more like a square. Gyuvin, Ricky and Hanbin have all had a few drinks from Gyuvin’s slightly concerning alcohol stash, but as Hao is driving Hanbin home he’s downed several cans of zero sugar cola instead. In the absence of any other activity, they’ve returned to the old classic – truth or dare.
After confessing to have indeed stolen Gyuvin’s prized winter jacket, Hao has turned his target to Ricky, who picks dare because he’s not a coward.
It’s been several seconds and Hao is still staring at Ricky like there’s a secret he doesn’t know, except the secret is about him so he should know, but Hao has very perceptive eyes and Ricky wavers under his gaze, forgetting that Hao really should have given him his dare by now.
“Ricky, I dare you to kiss Gyuvin,” Hao finally says, and Ricky sighs, nods, and looks down at Gyuvin, who’s splayed over his lap. It’s a similar position to Hanbin, who’s lying face down on Hao’s left thigh and mumbling like he’s a forty-year-old alcoholic, not a twenty-something with perfect grades and a part-time job.
“Gyuvin,” Ricky coaxes, and his best friend sighs, sits up, and leans forward to give Ricky a quick peck on the lips. He smells like pepperoni pizza and mangos – not the greatest combination in the world – and Ricky has to pause there for a moment to make sure some of his lipgloss gets onto Gyuvin’s lips because they’re so dry it’s disturbing.
“Done,” Ricky says, and Hao frowns, eyebrows twitching down in the same way they do when he misses a note, except now he’s somehow disappointed in Gyuvin and Ricky’s poor kissing performance.
“That’s it?” Hao asks, running a hand through Hanbin’s hair. Hanbin rolls over, now face up, and wriggles his way even further into Hao’s lap.
“I mean, we’re two straight guys,” Gyuvin says, and Ricky nods assent. “I’m not gonna like, make out with him.”
Hanbin snorts, then coughs out a laugh, then chokes on air before sitting up. “Sure,” he says, voice drowsy. “Sureee,” he drawls out again, presumably because he thinks they didn’t get the message the first time.
Gyuvin rolls over, sitting up properly and shooting an annoyed glance in Hanbin's direction. “Hey, what does that mean?” he says, and when Hao looks between Ricky and Gyuvin pointedly he shuffles away. Ricky frowns at the added distance. “I’m totally straight! I mean, I had a girlfriend and everything, and Ricky posts all those thirst traps for his fangirls.”
“They’re dance videos,” Ricky mutters under his breath.
“And I know I totally like girls,” Gyuvin continues, “like, I had all those crushes in school! And I’m not into guys at all.” Noticing Hao’s expression, he adds, “I admire San for his performances! It’s like, a man-to-man thing, I’m not interested in him like that. Ricky and I are just friends.”
“Right. That’s why you and Ricky gave each other birthday rings and said you’re married, and that’s why you’re constantly together whenever we see you. That’s why you call each other your ‘soulmate’ and joke about being ‘boyfriends’. And that’s why anyone who knows both of you thinks you’re dating.”
“And you kissed each other without even hesitating,” Hanbin pipes up.
“That was a dare, and the rings were a joke,” Ricky says, frown deepening when Gyuvin tucks a hand further into his lap and he notices it's the one wearing the ring he gave him. “And we’re best friends, friends like each other and hang out together. It’s normal for good friends to be close, and like you said, the ‘boyfriends’ thing is a joke, we’re boys who are friends. And I’m going to lunch with that girl from my art class tomorrow.”
Gyuvin nods along to his perfect defence until he mentions lunch, turning to him with an almost offended expression. “Wait, which girl? What’s her name?”
Ricky shrugs. “I forgot.”
“You forgot? Why are you going out to lunch with a random girl?”
“She's pretty, she draws well, and she likes the same dramas I do,” Ricky says simply. Did her name start with an H?
“Okay, but I like the same dramas as you,” Gyuvin replies, voice beginning to rise.
“Yeah, but you drew me as a stick figure when we traded drawings of each other for that couple challenge.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” Hao grumbles, pulling Hanbin upright. “Hanbin, you have work tomorrow, right?”
“Mhm,” Hanbin hums, even though tomorrow is Sunday and he doesn’t work on Sundays because his mother needs him to look after the neighbour’s kids while she has lunch with every other mother within a five-kilometre radius. Hell, tomorrow isn’t even Sunday anymore, today is Sunday, and Hanbin isn’t looking after five elementary-age children with a hangover and no sleep.
Hao pulls him to his feet regardless, tugging him behind himself like he’s a lost puppy.
“Hey, wait!” Gyuvin calls, scrambling up and following the pair. Ricky trails far behind him, because he’s been sitting so long his legs have fallen asleep. “I didn’t get my turn!”
“Gyuvin, you would’ve dared me to lick the counter or something,” Hao says, not turning back. “Then called me a coward even though you never clean your damn counters.”
Gyuvin falls silent, a dead giveaway that he really did want Hao to lick his counters.
“Exactly. Thanks for having us over, Gyuvin! It was fun, wasn’t it, Hanbin?” Hao pats Hanbin’s shoulder.
“Yeah!” Hanbin answers, face crinkled up in a smile so radiant it could split off and host its own solar system. “See you at dance!”
Hao waves at them, pulling Hanbin along down the stairs. A few moments after Gyuvin shuts the door, there’s a suspiciously loud thump .
—
“So… are you going to go home now?”
Ricky pauses, mouth full of day-old pizza. “Huh?” He’s been sitting at the small kitchen table, eating through Gyuvin’s leftovers as Gyuvin recounts various high school stories, some of which Ricky had been involved in but that he listens to nonetheless. It’s been a few minutes of silence now, but they’ve never had to fill the space between them with noise. It’s enough to just be in each other’s presence.
“It’s like, almost four in the morning. I’m not kicking you out or anything, but don’t you wanna go home?”
Ricky glances at his watch, confirming that it is in fact almost four in the morning. But– “Gyuvin, even if I’m not completely wasted, I don’t think I can drive.” He’s still drunk enough to slow his brain down, and even though he could stay sort-of composed at this level, if he drove he’d probably run over a pedestrian or two.
Gyuvin’s mouth forms a little ‘o’, as if that was something he hadn’t considered when giving them alcohol. “Oh, uh…”
Ricky picks up the last slice of cold pizza, brain catching up to his words and realising that yes, he can’t drive home, and logically, he should just stay over. But that idea is somewhat awkward when considering that he’s currently in Gyuvin’s apartment, and it’s an apartment that Gyuvin lives in alone. Despite looking like a broke college student living off of cup noodles and a dream, in reality his parents are rather wealthy and as willing to support his ‘fuck around and find out’ method of living as Ricky’s, although on a much shorter timeline, and part of that involves covering rent for an apartment closer to a university so that Gyuvin can carry out his dreams of independence.
It would just sound like a nice way to abandon their son if Ricky didn’t know how much they really did care for him, but he’s personally seen how much they love him, thus making this an act of love by inadvertently saying they trust Gyuvin to take care of a whole apartment.
(That trust is misplaced, in Ricky’s honest opinion.)
It’s a two-bedroom apartment, which would be perfect if Gyuvin hadn’t completely renovated the second bedroom into his designated ‘party space’ by removing the bed and then dragging in a couch (that Ricky had to help him carry up three flights of stairs), as well as a wooden table with one leg they had to duct-tape together. Even though he’s technically living off of his parent’s money, Ricky knows more than anyone else that Gyuvin’s determined to only ‘burden’ them with rent.
“You can stay over if you want,” Gyuvin says, breaking his train of thought. “I mean, I’ll just sleep on the couch or whatever.”
It takes a moment for Ricky’s brain to catch on to the issue with his words. “Wait, you’ll sleep on the couch? No, I should sleep on the couch. Your body’s too long, anyway.”
“We’re almost the same height,” Gyuvin replies, and Ricky mentally adds this as a way to get Gyuvin to admit he’s actually as tall as him (he’s not, but he can dream). “It’s okay, I’m used to sleeping on couches anyway.”
“Yeah, but not in your own home!” Pizza and seat abandoned, Ricky gathers his coat and walks back to the Party Room. Gyuvin follows him, apparently determined to claim the couch for himself. “It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I’m not making you sleep on the couch!” Gyuvin argues. “You’re like, a guest or whatever.”
“This is your place, and I’m staying unprompted. It’s only fair that I figure out my own arrangements. And you’re not making me sleep on the couch–”
“Well, either way it’s bad manners. It’s my place, I make the rules, and the rules say you’re not sleeping on the damn couch!”
“Gyuvin, I’m not sleeping in your bed,” Ricky snaps. “Come on, just give it up. See, I’m happy on the couch.” He isn’t, cramming his body into a position that’s vaguely reminiscent of a fetus.
“You look uncomfortable,” Gyuvin says.
Ricky has no counterargument.
—
In the end, the bed is left empty in favour of a nest of blankets on the floor. Gyuvin’s dug out an obscene amount of old quilts from the dusty boxes in his wardrobe, as well as a sleeping bag too small for either of them. They’ve also dragged sleeping mats in – it seems that a stipulation of Gyuvin’s pre-paid apartment was that they could store some old things in his rather empty cupboards.
The two of them pile the blankets and quilts up until it makes a somewhat comfortable surrogate bed. As he’s shuffling in between a quilt with a floral pattern that could only be loved by some old ahjumma and a Pokémon blanket, Ricky thinks to himself I should have just slept on the damn bed . Then his brain immediately shoots that down because, for some reason, the thought of making Gyuvin sleep on the couch is unbearable.
—
Ricky wakes up with a crick in his neck and the feeling that he has three legs instead of the usual two. The answer reveals itself when he struggles and wriggles up in the pile and finds Gyuvin’s leg tangled between his. As his brain slowly catches up to his body he also finds one of his arms is buried underneath Gyuvin’s torso and Gyuvin has a hand splayed over his waist.
A glance at the watch he neglected to remove before sleeping informs him that it’s twelve past two, and he jolts upright. He had something important today, right?
Yawning, he slaps his hand at the floor for an embarrassing thirty seconds before finding his phone. After dismissing all the missed alarm notifications, he gets his answer in a series of texts from hana (art).
hana (art)
I'm at the cafe
where are you
are you late?
did something happen
I'm leaving.
let me know what happened.
if you even care.
– 12:23 pm
Well, shit.
r
sorry i was hungover
like really really sick n stuff
this wasn't going to be a date right?
– 2:13 pm
It’s technically not a lie, right? His head hurts a little and that qualifies as a hangover. Before he can dive into the moral dilemmas of half-lying, a reply comes, shockingly fast.
hana (art)
yeah i should've guessed
no way you were interested in me
lol ok the rumours were true
it’s okay
see you in class
– 2:15 pm
Rumours? Ricky’s pretty sure there’s no serious dating rumours about him going around. Jokes, sure, but most people in his art and dance classes have assumed they’re all out of his league. It’s not an image he really likes, but if it’ll keep would-be suitors from bugging him, he’ll take it.
r
rumours?
– 2:16 pm
[You can no longer message this number.]
Yeah, he kinda deserved that.
“Ricky?”
The mumble of Gyuvin’s morning voice is all too familiar to Ricky, who turns to him and watches him disentangle their legs.
It strikes him then that Gyuvin is usually woken by his litany of alarms and wakes him in place of their useless ringing.
He must have been even more drunk than Ricky.
—
After bundling the blankets in the corner (to Gyuvin that’s enough to qualify as cleaning), they sit down at the rickety party table to feast on even more leftovers. Ricky’s currently slowly chewing through cold cake and taking cautious sips of stale lemonade, mindlessly scrolling through his social feed.
“Weren’t you supposed to go out for lunch with that girl?” Gyuvin asks through a mouthful of rice.
Ricky looks up and shrugs helplessly. “Guess we drank more than I thought. I missed it by a few hours, so I’m pretty sure she hates me now. I mean, I didn’t know her that well. It’ll just be awkward to see her in class.”
“Oh, okay,” Gyuvin says, and Ricky swears he sees the ghost of a smile on his lips before he leans down to take another bite.
“I think I’m mostly fine now, so I’ll leave after we’re done eating.” Ricky takes another bite of his cake, wondering why he’s even helping Gyuvin clear out his fridge. “I have a painting I need to finish soon, and I’ve procrastinated on it enough already.”
“Ohh, good luck! You better show it to me, otherwise I’ll punch you.” Gyuvin bundles his hand into a fist to act out his impending assault.
Ricky lets out a little chuckle. “Of course.” He’s always shown Gyuvin first, anyway.
—
Well, that’s a bit of a dilemma now.
Ricky would show Gyuvin his painting if he wasn’t stuck staring at a perfectly good still life of roses and trying to figure out what’s missing.
It should be fine – he’s well aware that his talent for art far surpasses many others. That isn’t some unfounded and braggadocious claim either. He’d been hesitant to be so proud in the past, but the praise from other teachers and students alike and the many competitions he’d won had cemented the fact that his hard work had paid off. He knows he’s good at art.
So that’s not the issue, the issue is that there’s something else wrong with it and it’s nagging at his brain and yet he can’t figure out what’s wrong with the damn thing. The roses are beautifully painted, the glass vase detailed with a careful hand and a meticulously painted streak of sunlight streaming over the whole piece to tie it all together.
And yet, as Ricky sits back to admire his work, he keeps feeling some kind of emptiness looking at it. He struggles to put a name to the emotion as he finally gives up and begins washing his brushes. He’ll just have to try harder.
“Gunwook, is it evil to kinda mess with your friend’s dates?”
Gunwook pauses, a spoonful of cereal slowly dripping milk into his bowl and halfway to his mouth. “I guess? It depends on why.” The spoon completes its journey to his mouth and he frowns as he swallows. “Gyuvin, did you do something again?”
“Maybe? Hey, what do you mean by again ?”
“This is about Ricky, isn’t it.” It’s not even a question; Gunwook’s stare pierces through Gyuvin as he crunches loudly on his cereal despite the fact that it’s four in the afternoon.
Gyuvin rolls his eyes but starts talking anyway, desperate to get it out of his system. “Okay, so after you left the party with Yujin last night we were playing truth or dare, right? That’s not important actually, but after I kissed Ricky we had an argument – well, a scuffle, like it wasn’t bad we were just bickering, and Ricky mentioned he was going to lunch with some girl. And I didn’t really care, but that morning he slept through all his alarms like usual, but they woke me up and I remembered that lunch thing, but I kinda… didn’t want him to go? So I didn’t wake him up and just fell asleep again.” Gyuvin’s out of breath by the end of his detailed testimony, looking to Gunwook and waiting for him to impart his words of wisdom.
Gunwook looks at him in muted horror and completely ignores the important parts in favour of blurting out, “You kissed Ricky?!”
“Dude, is that all you took away? Hao dared us so we kissed. Can you answer the actual question?” Gyuvin’s wringing his hands together at this point, deliberating over the ethics of maybe-possibly interrupting a date so badly that Ricky’s would-be girlfriend hates him now.
“We’re talking about that later,” Gunwook says, pointing his spoon at Gyuvin threateningly. “But to answer you, yeah, that’s kind of mean. Not completely fucked up mean, but why didn’t you want him to go out for lunch?”
“That’s the thing! I don’t know why, I just… felt weird imagining him with some girl he barely knows.”
“Gross.”
“Not like that! But dude, I don’t even know what I’m feeling. What reason do I even have? I just… help me out here!”
Gunwook’s spoon clinks against his bowl. “... I think it would be better for you to figure that out on your own.”
Gyuvin stares at him. “What?”
Gunwook shrugs. “It sounds really personal, man. I don’t think I can help here.”
Gyuvin can’t muster up a response, face frozen in a perplexed expression even as Gunwook finishes his cereal and stands up to put his bowl away.