Archive of Our Own

The summer Gyuvin had turned sixteen years old he attended his first high school soccer camp. It wasn’t any different from Middle School soccer camp except for the meaner coaches and all the pubescent boys being made fun of by one another when their voices sounded too high or too low.

And it was different because it was his first time meeting Shen Ricky and therefore also the very first identity crisis of his life. Because he was the prettiest boy Gyuvin had ever laid his eyes on and he had never before thought a boy was pretty.

Ricky was perfect to Gyuvin in literally all aspects—he was only freshly sixteen but he already had bleached hair and pierced ears which made him so cool; he was beautiful, he was taller than Gyuvin and, most importantly, he was really good at soccer.

Gyuvin was pretty sure he had never seen Ricky in Middle School (he was sure he would have remembered someone as mesmerizing if they had shared a classroom) which could only mean that he was new to the city and the High School he would attend after summer.

He felt a bit sick thinking about it. Because being new means everyone wants to be friends with you, especially if you look like Shen Ricky.

Thus, Gyuvin had very quickly decided to take on the task of being the first one to befriend him—and to do the best job at it, too, while he was at it.

For someone looking as intimidating as the blond teenager—with his designer clothes and chains around his neck—he was easier than anyone to befriend, a boy in a foreign country who was looking for friends just the same as every one of the other boys.

Falling in love with Ricky came just as naturally, Gyuvin thought, when he discovered that his heart performing a break dance every time he was near the boy was in fact not a sign of him going into cardiac arrest but rather having developed a massive—but thankfully not fatal—crush.

Gyuvin asked him out in the winter of the same year with a bouquet of pale pink flowers and a box of chocolates he had contemplated about getting for fifteen minutes before his brother got tired and threatened to walk out of the store without him—and while their honeymoon phase seemed to last forever a certain someone was set on throwing a big fat wrench in their works.

That or, well, those certain someones were Ricky’s parents who—if you put it nicely, which Gyuvin refrained from doing most times—just so happened to be a teeny tiny bit overprotective.

At first, it was barely noticeable for Gyuvin—he just thought that having a curfew for your sixteen year old son was perfectly normal and maybe his parents were just more chill than most, trusting him to stay safe and return home without them having to watch his every step.

It was when they stopped giving Ricky permission to come over to his house or spend the night, that he was getting a bit worried. Not for him because he could deal with seeing Ricky in school, although it still felt odd to not be able to go on dates as often anymore, but more so about Ricky who always told him See you tomorrow with the saddest look in his eyes.

Soon after that he started getting grounded more often than not. Ricky always assured him that it wasn’t because they were dating and that his parents didn’t care if he was dating a boy or not and all Gyuvin could do was trust his words because he wasn’t able to confront his parents, anyway.

It was like they thought of Ricky as a Rapunzel they had to keep locked up in a faraway tower so he wouldn’t dare get too close to anyone.

Gyuvin asked Ricky about it during lunch one time when they had already been dating for a year and yet, another one of their dates got canceled last minute, as he watched his boyfriend spiritlessly poke around the food in front of him.

“Have they-“ he paused and looked at Ricky’s chopsticks stop moving for a second, before he started picking up and dropping pieces of his rice once more, “Have they always been this controlling of you? Your parents, I mean.”

Ricky shrugged lightly and straightened his back to turn his body more towards where Gyuvin was sitting, putting his chopsticks onto the dish tray, where they were supposed to go if you don’t feel like eating, anyway.

“They have, pretty much. It got worse the older I got, I think. I honestly thought that it was only because of LA that they were so worried all the time because it does kind of make sense there? But now, well, you know this, it doesn’t really make sense.” A tiny smile appeared on his lips but it couldn’t quite reach his eyes. Gyuvin felt his fingers twitch under the table but he stopped himself from reaching out because, after all, they were still sitting at their lunch table.

“But you’re happy now, though? With me? Even if we can’t go on dates all the ti-” Ricky poked his chest and a small ow left his lips even if it didn’t actually hurt.

“I’m always happy with you—even if you’re annoying.” He grinned as Gyuvin pressed his hands over his heart and shook his head, earning another poke to his chest from the older boy.

“It’s really not your fault. I don’t want you thinking that way. If being with you meant being locked into a tower like… what do you always say? Rapunzel or something? I would seriously think about growing my hair out just so you could get up there to be with me. Hey, don’t laugh, I am trying to be serious here.” But he was also smiling and Gyuvin’s heart did a backflip because he once again realized that school air would always be a foreign concept to Ricky. He would not be surprised if he was actually a secret prince who had his crown stolen at birth and was forced to live in a tower to keep himself undercover.

“Give me a kiss and I’ll think about getting that ugly white horse with those big teeth to save you.”

Ricky’s ears turned a crimson color at the end as his eyes scanned the room from left to right, making sure no one was staring at them—because while he didn’t care if anyone knew they were dating he still had enough class left to not be caught showcasing any kind of pda in school. The kids in their class would never let them live it down.

He reached for his chopsticks again, just coincidentally slipping out of his grasp and dropping right into Gyuvin’s lap. Ricky gave Gyuvin his best shocked face, who had to close his eyes to stop himself from laughing before the older boy leaned forward to grab them while leaving a kiss on his cheek.

“You’ll get something better later if you behave, okay?” Ricky’s eyes stayed on Gyuvin’s face, hand closed around the chopsticks in his lap and the latter gulped hard, blinking twice. Then he nodded, because he might be a stupid puppy in Ricky’s eyes most of the time but he knew how to listen to his boyfriend.

Ricky leaned back and put the chopsticks back to their earlier position on the table. “Don’t be too sad about today, will you? I’ll try asking them about studying together tomorrow.”

He leaned back in his chair, moving away from Gyuvin and fishing his phone out of his back pocket to check his messages. Gyuvin raised his eyebrows when Ricky’s lips formed a small o. “I completely forgot about that… Soccer practice starts today. You’ll be there, right?” Ricky raised an eyebrow demandingly, showcasing his big, brown eyes and who was Gyuvin to argue with him like that.

Not that he would ever willingly miss soccer in the first place.

So Gyuvin nodded and just then a soft singsongey dingdangdongding called them back to class.

—

Gyuvin knows that the summer he turns nineteen years old will be his last high school soccer camp summer. He knows that it will feel different from all the summers he had spent playing soccer before, with the knowledge that it is going to be his last one.

He will experience soccer with Ricky one last time before they will hand that teenage passion off to some other kids, ones they may have met but don’t know and for whom they hope to make just as many memories of love with the sport as they did.

The early summer sun is poking Gyuvin’s eyes and he regrets not bringing the baseball cap his mom had offered him before he left for practice. He had passed Ricky’s house on the way, as he always does (he is a straight A student in the boyfriend subject, after all), but no one had answered when he rang the bell nor had Ricky responded to any of his messages or calls. That wasn’t worrying per se since it was a very much frequent occurrence—even though drought was probably the better word to use, since Gyuvin does actually feel a bit deprived—since his parents take his phone from him every once in a while but Gyuvin still doesn’t like it when it happens. Especially on a soccer day, which Ricky would never ever willingly miss and his parents knew that.

He ducks his head just in time to avoid getting hit by a flying ball, kicked by one of the students a grade below him, bright purple hair making the boy easy to identify. He makes a face at Gunwook but the latter just laughs and runs back to the end of the line of boys waiting for their turn at offense training.

Since Gyuvin is one of the graduating students he sometimes helps the coaches during practice, going through drills with the younger boys one on one if they need any extra help. Two weeks of practice remain before Gyuvin knows their final matches will roll around before they go off to summer camp altogether—until they eventually all scatter off to the four winds for summer break and his last soccer season will be over. A sigh escapes him as he gets back on his feet to trudge towards the benches for something to drink.

If Ricky were here Gyuvin would get a bottle out for him too, no questions asked because one look from Ricky’s big eyes was enough to make him fold and treat him like the spoiled cat Gyuvin turned him into over the years.

Gyuvin lifts his hand to his forehead in an attempt to shield his eyes from the sun as he watches the boys run around on the field, simultaneously brushing his sweaty bangs out of his face. He knows he should focus on the game, maybe run a few laps to keep his muscles warm or analyze the players’ moves—but all his mind keeps going back to is his boyfriend probably sitting alone in his room going through piles of books he definitely doesn’t need nor is interested in but that his parents keep making sure he is studying.

The thought makes him feel a little sick but to Gyuvin it sometimes feels like they don’t even like their son as a person—only the idea they made up for him way before he even came to be a part of this world. He doesn’t tell Ricky that though, because they’re still his parents and he knows that Ricky wouldn’t want to badmouth them even though he’s likely thinking the same thing—in secret. Stupid sweet boy.

It has been three hours since he last saw Ricky and told him See you later and I love you because Ricky would pout if he didn’t remind him that he does in fact still love him. It’s not something Gyuvin needs to be reminded of a lot because he is sure of it anyway but he knows that Ricky needs more assurance in his relationships. He wishes he could tell that to two certain people but they’re going to be his parents-in-law at some point so it is better to not get on their bad side.

At least, that’s what he needs to keep telling himself. Deep breath, in and out.

Having strict parents wasn’t a foreign concept to Gyuvin, even before he met Ricky. Since his parents aren’t exactly short of money his mom was always scared he would get abducted or worse—which is very paranoid of her but she’s his mom so he doesn’t judge her—so he of course had some curfews to abide by. But it had never gotten to the point of being locked up in his room or having all his electronics taken away.

Gyuvin throws his water bottle on top of his bag and hopes it doesn’t get too warm in the sun because drinking lukewarm water in this thirty degree weather simply feels gross. He digs his phone out of the side pocket of his bag but apart from his sister sending him two stickers (she probably wants some pocket money) and a hi from one of the guys in his class (he probably wants a copy of the homework) it’s as devoid of any updates from his boyfriend as ever.

The phone joins his water bottle and he runs back onto the field and into the sun, immediately warming his face and he is this close to a genuine smile—until he wants to turn around to tell Ricky who isn’t there to sunbathe like he should be.

Gyuvin blows the hair out of his face and starts running around the field maybe once or twice and maybe even thrice. He runs until his legs won’t let him and then walks down the rest of the track, hoping he won’t feel like fainting anymore. He eyes the other boys, still running around and kicking balls by the goals for half a minute before he walks over to join their drills.

The usually tiring remainders of practice pass by in a flash and before he knows it the kids are running off towards the lockers, arms full with bags and water bottles. Gyuvin watches them with a fond smile because the times where it was him and Ricky running away to get changed as fast as they could in order to get some cheap ice cream from one of the convenience stores near the soccer fields without their parents knowing now seem so far away even—though he could swear it was just yesterday.

Now, he’s an adult. Which means he helps the other adults clean up the field, picking up stray balls and collecting the clothes left behind by the kids in their hurry.

Gyuvin almost jumps out of his skin when someone puts their arm around his shoulder, too lost in thought while picking up and stacking the cones along the penalty arc. “Good job today.” Coach Jung is grinning right in his face and Gyuvin mirrors his expression.

“I’m glad you’re still showing up to practice despite the year being almost done anyway. I had a lot of seniors who would just stop coming the closer summer came.” Gyuvin snorts and shakes his head. “You know I would never.”

Coach Jung nods and lets go of Gyuvin’s shoulder. “Where’d you leave your other half at today, though?”

Gyuvin has to pretend like he doesn’t feel his ears heating up at the way he referred to Ricky and him. “I don’t know for sure, either. Probably studying.” Which is partially the truth but he knows Ricky wouldn’t like it if he went around telling everyone how his parents treat him, even when he is sure Coach Jung knows about it anyway.

“Well, tell him we missed him today.”

“I will.”

“Alright, you go off too. I’ll finish everything here so don’t worry about it and just go wherever you need to be.”

Gyuvin laughs and waves him goodbye. Before he can get too far away though, Coach Jung yells his name and takes something out of the pocket of his pants, throws it in Gyuvin’s direction, who catches it just before it hits his chest.

He opens his hands to find a very familiar set of keys connected by a Disney’s Bambi keychain. Gyuvin looks over to him with a confused expression on his face but Coach Jung only laughs. “To make up for the missed practice. We still have two games left, remember? But don’t forget to lock everything when you leave.” Gyuvin is trying to wrap his head around what he meant for a good five seconds before it dawns on him and he shakes his head with a laugh.

Coach Jung is still looking his way with a smile, a soccer ball under one arm and the cones he took from Gyuvin before in his hand. It is the kind of picture you would glue into your journal with a bunch of stickers around it and write at least a paragraph of sentiments next to it.

It looks just like summer. It looks like the grassy green summer Gyuvin is best friends with. The summer that feels like ice cream and betting who can spit the cherry pits the farthest with his siblings and tired legs and salty hair and, most importantly, Ricky and him and soccer, which has always tied them together.

—

Gyuvin’s hair is still damp and he is wearing his soccer shoes when he arrives at Ricky’s house, but he’s not cold despite the sun having set half an hour ago. Truthfully, he feels a bit stressed, the snacks stuffed into his backpack and a small bouquet of flowers in his hand reminding him of his run around the neighborhood not more than an hour ago. He had done his best to shower, change, get his clothes home and to eat a little of the leftovers from dinner before he had told his mom he’d be back a bit later and that he had taken the keys, just in case.

And sure, Ricky is definitely not asleep yet so he wouldn’t have needed to rush like he did but showing up to his boyfriend’s house in the middle of the night might still be a bit over the top, even for him.

He has snuck onto the property enough times to know where to climb over the exterior wall without being spotted by one of the security cameras. Gyuvin narrows his eyes at the flowers in his hands before he sighs and bites down onto the stems, reaching out for the rough surface and pulling himself up and over the stones.

Ricky’s room is at the east end of the estate and, luckily for him, therefore close to the greenhouse his mom likes to tend to when she’s not currently up in her son’s business—which isn’t exactly something she frequents. Gyuvin is thankful for her hobbies, though, because it means there is an unlimited source of pebbles right by Ricky’s bedroom window. It’s almost like the Shens want him to come by and lure their son out of his bedroom with a couple pebbles and some snacks.

Gyuvin kneels down next to the bed of pebbles and picks up a few, weighing them in his hand—always careful to pick the ones that aren’t too big so he won’t accidentally break anything that belongs to Shen property.

The pebble creates a little tink sound as it hits the window Gyuvin aimed for, knowing it’s one of the windows on the left side of Ricky‘s room. A room he knows like his own, despite never being allowed inside for more than a few hours—but the hours he can spend with Ricky, in the space that’s entirely him he makes sure to memorize every book, every nook, all the tiny pictures telling him of a life without Gyuvin and his current one he is experiencing with him. Gyuvin hopes that their pictures together will at some point outnumber the ones without him—but he is almost certain they will. They will spend more seasons together still, on different continents and in different contexts but Gyuvin knows that Ricky will always be the constant in his life making all the change worth it.

A second pebble hits the window and he throws a third one right as the clear sound reaches his ears. He is already reaching for a fourth one when he sees movement behind the sparsely lit window and a second later it is pulled open by the boy Gyuvin has dreamed about all afternoon, blond hair falling softly into his face. The scene feels like a reenactment of every cheesy romance drama Ricky has made him sit through, but they’re all worth it because he can hold Ricky for the entirety of the episodes without having to worry someone will take his boyfriend from him—and for this view, because he couldn’t describe it as anything else but sweet.

“Oh, dear princess, how come you are locked away up there, when your beauty should be shown off all over the country?” Gyuvin starts, trying not to raise his voice too much as to not wake Ricky’s parents—but that would never stop him from still acting as unserious as ever and he bows deeply after finishing the sentence.

Ricky snickers playfully, elbows propped up on the windowsill but plays along because he’s just as silly. “What is that I spot—a strong and mighty prince on his way to save me from my miseries?”

“Always, if you wish. I came the long way from my house to this yard so I could see your infamous beauty with my own two eyes.” Ricky’s eyes turn into two crescents and he laughs as he watches Gyuvin stand there—his knight in shining armor, in all the glory he can emit in his shorts and the t-shirt Ricky had picked for him last spring, dirty cleats barely visible in the dim light. “Though, I must admit, you’re still a bit too far… Would you do me the honor and descent from your chambers with a pair of sneakers and a hoodie so I am able to admire you from a far better distance?” Gyuvin bats his eyes but he doesn’t think Ricky can actually make out any of his features in the dim light.

The blond steps back from the open window to grab some things while Gyuvin carefully puts the pebbles he was still holding onto back into the stone bed they were laying in. When he lifts his head once more his boyfriend is back at the window, carrying a small backpack. He looks a bit reluctant to get out of the window even though Gyuvin knows he has technically done it before.

“Don’t worry. I will catch you when you’re on your way down here.” Ricky makes a face at that, one leg already outside of the house. “You actually think you can catch me?” “Duh. You weigh no more than a feather.” Ricky puts his head back and laughs before he swings his other leg over the windowsill, balancing against the house wall while pulling the window only almost closed so that he can still get back inside later. Gyuvin lays the flowers next to his own bag onto the grass and walks towards the house where Ricky is trying to make his way down.

He really does look cute like that, feet moving slowly and hands trying to find a hook in the material. Like a cat just learning how to use its paws to get up and down things, Gyuvin smiles.

“Hey. You really do have to catch me, though.” Ricky whispers, face still angled towards the wall in front and underneath him as he slowly moves down into the direction Gyuvin is standing in. “Of course.” Gyuvin watches as his gray sweatshirt gets pushed up slightly when he extends his arm, revealing a centimeter of skin between the waistband of his black pants and the soft material of the top. His fingers itch with the desire to just reach out and pull him off the wall like he’s a kitten holding onto the forbidden couch cushions. He is sure Ricky would stretch his limbs like a cat, too.

Ricky’s feet are only a hand’s width away from the grass when he pushes himself off the wall into Gyuvin’s waiting arms, wrapping around Ricky’s wide shoulders and narrow waist. He turns the older boy around so that they are face to face as Gyuvin still holds onto him.

“Hi, Rapunzel,” Gyuvin says and squeezes Ricky’s waist with a grin. “Hi,” Ricky answers, a bit out of breath. Gyuvin’s fingers trails over the fabric of the dark sweatshirt all the way down to the hem and until his fingers touch the bare skin underneath, feeling the immediate gooseflesh spread over his stomach and hips, probably reaching all the way down to his arms. He draws a few circles onto Ricky’s skin, eyes locked onto Ricky’s dark ones, flying all around their space just not Gyuvin’s face. Gyuvin smirks and drags his fingers higher up Ricky’s rib cage until the blond boy slaps his hand and tries pushing him off himself with his palms.

“Stop touching me like that in my parents’ garden,” he mumbles, ears crimson.

“Like what?”

“You know exactly what I mean. And there are security cameras here.”

“There aren’t any around here and you know that just as well,” Gyuvin counters but he steps back anyway, watching the way Ricky’s eyebrows furrow just the tiniest bit. He extends his hand for Ricky to grab and even though he is obviously trying to sulk a few sympathy points out of Gyuvin he takes it anyway.

Gyuvin pulls him back to where he left his backpack and reaches for the flowers, offering Ricky the bouquet of pink tulips with a little curtsy and he takes with a smile, visibly pleased about the present.

“Let’s go. We still have places to be tonight.” Gyuvin grins and tugs at the hand he is still holding onto, shouldering the backpack at the same time. They sneak past the greenhouse and the almond trees and the flower patches until they are standing in front of the far edge of the estate wall, separating the neat yard from the streets of Seoul.

Gyuvin had been more than surprised the first time he had been at the Shens’ house—not only because of the fancy building but also because they had been living in pretty close proximity for the last months since he knew Ricky and Ricky had been to his house and never said a word to Gyuvin about it. When he had asked the blond boy about it he had only shrugged it off and continued doodling cats and dogs all over his homework saying he didn’t think Gyuvin would care. As if! Ricky is practically his neighborhood neighbor and he hadn’t put that to use at all before that moment!

Gyuvin gets onto one knee and holds his palms out to Ricky, who looks at him like he is suggesting they buy the bad brand of strawberries—overall very moonstruck with his eyebrows pinched together.

“I’m giving you a legs-up, dummy,” Gyuvin explains without Ricky even having to utter one of the questions currently fluttering through his head.

“Oh,” Ricky answers simply, the intention behind the pose obvious now. “Yeah,” Gyuvin replies, still on one knee and wriggles his interlocked fingers a bit, like trying to magically make Ricky do what he wants of him. Which he does, a second later, carefully stepping on the hands and letting Gyuvin push himself further up the wall until it’s easy to just swing one leg over and jump down the other side. Gyuvin follows a moment later, landing next to Ricky with a soft thump.

He holds his hand out for Ricky to hold onto again—which he does, of course—and is once again enthralled by how small his palm feels in Gyuvin’s. Nothing about Ricky is small per se but if you heard Gyuvin talk about the blond boy without knowing him you would think he was three heads smaller and definitely half as wide as Gyuvin.

“What were you doing before I came here?” Gyuvin asks while briefly eyeing the pink flowers peeking out from his backpack.

Ricky just shrugs, the hand that isn’t holding onto Gyuvin’s stuffed into the pocket of his pants. “Not much honestly. I looked over my notes on Korean history and then tried doing some math homework but I couldn’t focus at all so I just continued working on that watercolor project I showed you before. It’s not like my mom comes to check on my work or me.”

“Makes sense. It’s honestly far too hot outside to stay in your room and study all day…” They pass by a few more irritatingly flawless buildings, each one whiter than the last, before they finally leave the neighborhood. The sky is just dark enough to see the Seoul skyline clearly in the distance, twinkling like it is trying to compete with the stars above.

“The walk is a bit far by foot.” Gyuvin watches the cars rush by them, even at this late hour the city is still as busy as ever. “But since we’re together it will pass by in a breeze.” He winks at Ricky who cringes at the bad attempt of a pick up line. Gyuvin laughs and tugs at Ricky’s arm slightly, prompting him to move in the right direction.

“How was practice today?” Ricky asks after a while when they have already left Cheongdam. The air has gotten colder without the blazing summer sun but Gyuvin’s hand is warm and the hoodie is more than enough to keep him from freezing, even though Ricky tends to run cold more frequently.

“It was nice. The kids were a hyper mess though—more so than usual. Can you believe?” Ricky laughs because, yes, he can imagine the picture very well. Maybe a little too well, after all the hours he spent on the fields trying to convince the kids to put the pieces of grass they knocked out while playing back where they belong and to not take the insects back home as pets because no, their parents would not be delighted at the sight of their new friends.

“Yeah. I missed them today. It was boring to spend the afternoon without them.”

“They missed you, too.” Gyuvin smiles and watches Ricky whose gaze is still fixed on the street in front of them. “They asked me where you were so I had to come up with something cool to make them go back to playing.” Ricky laughs and shakes his head because Gyuvin is just very silly.

“Gunwook missed you too, today. There aren’t many people from his grade anymore and I had to help Coach so I think he felt a bit lonely without you to bother.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Ricky grimaces but there’s a smile on his lips anyway and Gyuvin can tell how much he wanted to be there.

“I did too. Miss you, I mean,” he says and smiles.

“We saw each other all day in school today,” Ricky counters, though Gyuvin can see the way the tips of his ears are turning redder by the second. It’s too nice, too easy to get Ricky all flustered. Gyuvin only has to make one cringey comment, one compliment and Ricky is blushing and spluttering under his eyes. There are only little things in his life that bring him more joy than teasing Rick does.

“Okay, but that was like five hours ago.”

“You’re so stupid. How do you go to sleep at night without me, huh? That’s definitely more than five hours.”

“I don’t,” Gyuvin says, with all the fake distress he can muster up dripping from his voice, his free hand clutching his chest. “I can’t ever sleep without you by my side.” Ricky scoffs and pushes Gyuvin to the side with their joined hands, making him stumble a bit—but most if it is acting anyway to make it seem as dramatic as possible.

“Sure, Romeo,” he answers and laughs at the way Gyuvin is trying to make puppy eyes at him.

“No, but I’m serious. I really did miss you. I always miss you but practice could never be practice if you aren’t there. You know that, right?” Gyuvin straightens again, eyes fixed on Ricky’s face as always.

Gyuvin has always loved soccer, even before he met the strange boy with the pretty eyes during the soccer camp that one summer, and he will always love it, even if he doesn’t play anymore and has to sit in an office from sunrise to sunset.

Before, soccer was always just a sport, though. A fun sport, sure. But it was nothing more than an activity his parents encouraged him to do.

Now, soccer is fun. It is running around with his best friends all afternoon and teaching each other fun tricks. It is love, in the form of Ricky who he is sure he was meant to meet in every life, not just this one where he helps him sneak out his parents’ house at midnight but also the one where they start a rock band or open a coffee shop somewhere far away from Seoul.

“I do,” Ricky tells him, quietly but the certainty in his voice is obvious and Gyuvin squeezes Ricky’s hand lightly, a smile on his face. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

Ricky looks up from where he was inspecting the pavement to examine the tall buildings at the sides of the road. They crossed a busier street a few minutes ago, rushing over the pavement like they were running from someone. The neighborhood looked like every other in Seoul, tall apartment buildings with underground garages to make up for the little space. Gyuvin isn’t really familiar with the area since he usually takes the bus to get to practice—and while Ricky lives to the east of the fields he lives in the opposite direction. He can remember maybe two occasions where Gyuvin had been allowed to sleep over at Ricky’s and they had walked the route together—but Gyuvin knows that Ricky also tends to frequent the bus over having to get up early and walking all the way to school.

Gyuvin pulls Ricky around the corner of one of the buildings, walking right into a smaller alley surrounded by plush trees—growing white blossoms and small apples and rich green leaves, though any of it is hard to see in the faint light of the surrounding light posts and singular neon advertisement panels.

Ricky’s steps falter for a second, head turning to Gyuvin in light speed. “What…” his eyes are big and Gyuvin feels a sudden urge to bite into his skin. “You’ll see,” he tells him with a smile as they continue walking down the path until they reach the metal gate seperating the wild trees from the green soccer courts of their high school property.

Gyuvin reaches into the back pocket of his shorts and pulls out the keys he had gotten from Coach Jung earlier today, dangling them in the air between them.

“Surprise,” he tells Ricky, a smile dancing across his face.

“How the hell did you get those?” Ricky asks. The surprise of the moment is written into his face but it doesn’t hide the obvious excitement from his features.

“Coach Jung gave them to me today so I could take you here,” Gyuvin answers him and he is a bit proud of himself as well, although it was mainly Coach Jung’s idea to bring Ricky.

“I also figured you would feel lonely being at home all day so,” he lets go of Ricky’s hand for a moment to carefully open the gate—it definitely needs to be renovated soon but they’ll need to host a few more fundraisers if they want to get started on it this year still, “I thought you’d cheer up from some one-on-one practice. With me—the best soccer player you will find around here.”

Ricky laughs, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. “You sure are throwing a lot of words around yourself tonight.”

“Why, it’s definitely true.” Gyuvin nods, all self confidence as he walks onto the dark soccer field, still facing Ricky to maintain eye contact with him. The latter softly closes the gate behind himself before he speeds up his steps to catch up to Gyuvin. He nudges at Gyuvin’s palm with a finger, missing the skin to skin contact even though Gyuvin had let go of him not even two minutes ago. Gyuvin is a nice obedient boyfriend, though—most of the time, at least—so he lets Ricky slide his hand into his.

It’s darker here than on the streets they just walked by because there aren’t any light posts installed in between with court lines and green grass. Although the millions of hours spent on practice definitely ease the task of crossing the field together, Gyuvin thinks, satisfied.

The locker rooms are to the left side of the gate they just walked onto the field through, home to all the equipment they get out during practice, the showers and the lockers. Additionally, Gyuvin guesses, the breaker box he has never even laid eyes on before because he has never felt the need to turn the floodlights on himself.

“Uhm,” he says, eyeing the differently colored switches and buttons. None of them are named or even numbered and he has no idea which one might be the one he is looking for. Ricky’s brows are knitted together as he stands next to Gyuvin, trying to figure out their meanings as well.

“I’ll just… try some and you have to tell me if the floods turn on?” Gyuvin suggests and Ricky nods a little, taking a step to the side to peek out from the room onto the field.

Gyuvin hesitantly flips a yellow one up. He doesn’t immediately get shocked by the box, which is very relieving, but there’s also no bright light coming from the direction Ricky is looking so-

“Nope. Turn that back off.”

Gyuvin does exactly that and tries a few more—one of them turns on the sprinklers and Ricky almost jumps onto Gyuvin’s back because of how fast he backs away from the door—until the lights flicker and eventually fully wake up to illuminate the soccer field.

The grass is as summery green as you would want it to be and the few spots some of the boys teared out from running have already been fixed and are only barely visible still—even with the knowledge of them being there.

“Do you think it’s okay to play with these?” Ricky asks, showing off his black converse, red socks peeking out from underneath. Truthfully, Gyuvin would have told him to put on some others if he hadn’t wanted to surprise him with the visit but it will still be good enough. He trusts Ricky’s skill on the field enough to not worry about some Converse. Therefore he just says “You can do it,” and takes one of the soccer balls from the bag they are stored inside.

Gyuvin’s hand finds its way onto Ricky’s butt as he walks towards the field, making the older boy flinch at the sudden contact before he whips his head around to look at Gyuvin with the blankest expression on his face, not even trying to hide his dismay. Gyuvin throws his head back and laughs, pulling his hand back just to slap it against his back again.

“Hey,” Ricky’s voice is almost whiny as he complains, trying to remove his hand unsuccessfully.

“You would think you’re used to this by now,” Gyuvin says with a grin but lets go of him to step forward onto the grass.

He drops the ball in front of his feet, kicking it back and forth from one foot to another for a moment. Then he flips it so he can balance it on the tip of his left shoe before kicking it up to catch it again.

“Wow,” Ricky stretches the word, leaning against the door frame of the little room, eyes trailing after the ball, “the biggest show off I know is back on the field.”

Gyuvin looks up from the grass without lifting his head, eyes locking with Ricky.

“But it turns you on.”

“You’re such a freak.”

Gyuvin cackles but doesn’t deny it because there’s no use. It’s not like he would disagree with Ricky.

“Go stretch. Wouldn’t want this kitty cat to hurt his delicate body,” Gyuvin teases, throwing the ball at him but Ricky catches it with ease, still trying to appear as unimpressed as ever although his eyes are glittering from amusement and the light of the floods above their heads.

Ricky takes a step towards Gyuvin on the dewy grass, kneeling down and bending his arms over his head—left, right and left again. He gets back up once he is satisfied with whatever result he was looking for and bends over slowly, never breaking eye contact with the tall boy in front of him. Gyuvin blinks a couple of times as he eyes Ricky’s moves, the way his pants stretch over his thighs and the sweatshirt slips up his back to reveal a sliver of the skin of his lower back.

“If you keep that up we aren’t going to play much soccer tonight,” Gyuvin says, a little suddenly, when Ricky is rocking back and forth on the balls of his foot, arms now purposely over his head in order to lift his shirt up enough to showcase his flat stomach and the barely visible seam of his boxers. It’s Ricky’s turn to laugh now because he does know exactly what he is doing and what effect it has on the taller boy. He jumps up and down on the grass a few times, blond hair bouncing up and down from the movement, trying to further warm up his body to be able to keep up with Gyuvin, who had already gone through a full practice session today, before slowly walking over to the taller boy.

“Alright, show me what you worked on today,” Ricky tells Gyuvin, eyes gleaming teasingly under the floodlights and the array of stars in the sky, a smile tugging on his lips.

And because if Gyuvin is a game token, Ricky is the dice and they work together like someone put it on paper somewhere, a foolproof manual on Gyuvin moving to Ricky’s song—so he does exactly what he is told.

“You bet,” Gyuvin grins and jogs off to somewhere on the opposite side of the field, a soccer ball still under his arm. Ricky watches from where he is still standing by the lockers, not yet wanting to dart off into whatever direction but rather giving Gyuvin exactly what he wants—the satisfaction of looking at his tricks.

Gyuvin proceeds to move over to some kind of fast moving dribbles, controlling the ball between his feet as if this really is just a video game he is currently in. Ricky knows that it isn’t really something he would use in a game because it’s far too technique-y to use against some poor teenagers from Goyang in a friendship match because he’s not that mean on the field.

What he wants right now is to show off his skills in front of his boyfriend. And he is honestly succeeding because he does look really cool like this, Ricky thinks. With his hair ruffled and messy, without a fancy uniform and his brows slightly furrowed in concentration—it is easy to tell he moves this well because he genuinely loves to be here. On the dewy grass, with a soccer ball beneath his feet and Ricky in his heart, on his team.

He makes his way back to Ricky rather quickly, eyes never leaving the ball before he kicks it up a few meters in front of Ricky. But he had already expected it—because you don’t spend half a decade on a soccer team with Kim Gyuvin and don’t pick up on his antics at some point—so Ricky raises his hands just in time to catch the ball from where it’s flying towards his face.

Gyuvin looks like a proud puppy like this, standing in front of Ricky with a wide grin on his face, awaiting praise and Ricky thinks he can almost see him wagging his tail if he quints hard enough.

“That looked so cool,” Ricky tells him, trying not to sound too proud before setting the ball down on the grass next to him and walking straight towards Gyuvin with deliberate steps. He resists the urge to ruffle through Gyuvin’s auburn locks or stroke under his chin only by cupping his face in his hands and leaning upwards to press a kiss on his lips. He tastes like strawberries. “I wish everyone could see how cool you are here.” Gyuvin’s ears have turned a pretty shade of pink, the color moving down his neck slowly. “But I’m still glad I’m the only one to see you like this. Then I won’t have to fight with anyone for your attention.”

Ricky is obviously joking—though the little ones do tend to cling to the boy a lot, demanding Ricky should share Gyuvin with them—but he watches Gyuvin’s expression transform from the smug smile on his face just now to a fonder look, one that Ricky knows is reserved only for him.

“You will never have to fight for my attention with anyone ever. It’s all yours.”

And Ricky can feel the way his ears heat up as his heart swells, so loved he has to try not to melt away from all the heat pulsing through his veins at this moment—even when it is so easy to do. His hands move from Gyuvin’s face to his shoulders and curl into the soft fabric of his tshirt, trying to keep his heart from racing away.

“Are you getting shy now?” Gyuvin whispers, hand reaching for one of the blond strands of hair framing Ricky’s face and twirling it between his fingers. His hand finds its way through his hair to the back of his head and he softly guides his head up to give Ricky another kiss. It is tenderly soft as their lips connect and so agonizingly sweet his grip tightens on the fabric, as to not give Gyuvin the satisfaction of knowing what he does to him. Gyuvin is maybe five centimeters taller than Ricky, at most—but kissing him like this always makes Ricky feel like Gyuvin is incredibly tall, with the way he has to tilt his head up slightly to comfortably reach Gyuvin’s lips with his. It feels unfair.

“You’re too cheesy for me,” Ricky answers, reluctantly pulling away from Gyuvin again. “Like a giant cheeseball. I… thought I was supposed to be the cheese cat here.” The silence between them stretches painfully, the attempt of uplifting the too sweet moment hanging between them for a second. But it seems to work, miraculously so, because Gyuvin does laugh. Ricky’s heart flutters as he breathes out.

“Why, you like this. You like it when I tell you how much I like you,” Gyuvin starts with a sly smile, pressing a kiss to his nose, and Ricky tries to pull back from the way his cringey comments make him feel—because they should just be that. Cringey and embarrassing. Instead, Ricky finds that he somehow does like them though. Gyuvin’s hand is still tangled into his hair, keeping him in place, so Ricky just squeezes his eyes shut to avoid having to make eye contact with Gyuvin, “and how you’re so pretty,” another kiss to his cheek, “and smart,” and the other one, “and talented,” a kiss to his jaw, “and so so lovely.”

A kiss to his lips, just for a second, but Ricky’s heart picks up its pace, never used to all the sweet words spilling from Gyuvin’s lips all the time. “My Lovelicky. Mhm?” Ricky opens his eyes slowly, one after the other, immediately locking eyes with Gyuvin’s dark brown ones, crinkling at the corners from the smile on his lips, obviously very pleased with the current circumstances.

“You’re stupid,” Ricky says after a second, dumbly and little convincing, even to his own ears. Gyuvin throws his head back and barks a laugh into the night sky, for only the stars and him to see.

“Sure,” Gyuvin simply agrees but because he is a tease he adds, a sing-songy-tune in his voice, “stupidly in love with you.”

Ricky rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a smile as to not give Gyuvin the pleasure of showing him how much he actually likes the sweet talk and failing miserably.

He leans forward again because none of the words on his tongue would make any sense right now, anyway. Actions speak louder than words, right? He connects his lips with Gyuvin’s. It feels funny, because they’re both still smiling but Gyuvin reciprocates the kiss as soon as he registers what Ricky wants from him, tongue sliding in between Ricky’s lips far too easily, exploring the place appreciatively. Ricky yelps in surprise but the sound is immediately swallowed by Gyuvin. He hadn’t really expected Gyuvin would actually go further than what they were doing before because, while it is easy to forget like this, tangled up with one another, they are still in a semi public open space. But Gyuvin doesn’t seem to care much, continuing to lick into Ricky’s mouth with relish—and maybe liking it a little too much for someone who said he wanted to come here to play soccer and not to make out.

Not that Ricky is necessarily complaining.

The little pleased noises he makes are swallowed as soon as they as much as try to leave his mouth.

Ricky can feel the heat radiating from Gyuvin’s body through the fabric of the shirt, now probably crumpled for the rest of the night from where he is fisting it by his shoulders, even on this still warm summer night. Everything around him feels warm, his head, his cheeks, his stomach, his lips, where they are connected—he swears he can feel how the floodlights are heating up the entire space too.

Floodlights? Ricky thinks drowsily, much too busy dealing with Gyuvin’s lips on his and his hands lightly pulling onto his hair—until the sharp realization that floodlights typically mean soccer and with that he remembers what the hell they are doing in the first place—making out on their high school’s soccer field after sneaking onto the property in the middle of the night.

It does feel a bit wrong, considering how he usually jumps around the field with the eighth graders about once a day.

If it is even possible, Ricky thinks his ears get even hotter than they already are, flustered by it all. All there is on his mind is Gyuvin and his tongue and his lips and his hand on the back of his head, fingers stroking his nape and—Ricky, pull yourself together.

The only thing his horny teenage brain can come up with at that moment is separating them with force—because he honestly wouldn’t willingly let go of Gyuvin anymore if they don’t stop in this second—so he puts all his energy into his palms still pressed against Gyuvin’s chest and pushes him away as strongly as he can. Fairly enough, it usually isn’t a lot of force but has the surprise factor on his side.

Gyuvin makes a surprised sound as he stumbles backwards, cheeks red and lips swollen and wet—he looks like a mess. Which just makes him look even hotter? Despite the whole situation. Maybe especially because of that.

But only before Ricky remembers he probably looks the same way, only maybe worse, because Gyuvin had absolutely taken his carefully styled hair apart with his hands just a moment ago. He is panting slowly, trying to refill his lungs with as much air as possible in the littlest amount of time.

His eyes flicker over to where Gyuvin is standing an arm length away from him, eyebrows raised and looking confused, a question already forming on his face but Ricky is faster as he turns his head to look at the soccer ball a few metres behind them both. A smile is starting to form on Ricky’s face, never really having left anyway, and he straightens his legs, as well as he can because he does feel a bit weak in the knees right now, and turns around to kick the ball towards the closer one of the goals from where they are standing, running after it a moment later.

Gyuvin looks surprised for a second, taken aback by whatever idea had formed in Ricky’s head when they were still catching their breath, until he realizes what exactly is happening. But Ricky has already scored a goal by then, grinning at Gyuvin and retrieving the ball from the net to kick towards the latter.

“Kim Ricky, you are playing dirty,“ Gyuvin huffs, stopping the ball with his foot when it reaches him.

“You’re one to talk. Just admit you find more fun in shoving your tongue down my throat than playing soccer,“ he is obviously teasing, but Gyuvin gasps as if greatly scandalized.

“Wow, you are damaging my reputation here,” he responds, shaking his head as Ricky walks towards him. “I fear there isn’t a lot left to damage in the first place…”

Gyuvin snorts before kicking the ball behind himself and running after it. He hears Ricky say something nasty, probably also running after him but he has a head start and thus scores a goal for himself right there.

“One to one for Kim Gyuvin,” he throws his hands into the sky and rejoices once and then again because his favorite activity is being a pain in Ricky’s neck.

“You wish,” Ricky gasps when he catches up to Gyuvin, taking the ball from him and kicking it a few metres away. “We’re playing until five. Good luck, Shim Gyuvin.”

A one on one soccer game might not sound like the toughest thing out there because it’s just one ball and the rules seem easy enough but if you have ever run across a soccer field a couple of times you know that it’s not quite a walk in the park.

Their score is four to three for Gyuvin what feels like an eternity later and Gyuvin thinks he might puke. Still, he does have a reputation to uphold—even if it is Ricky, especially Ricky because he will never let him live this down—so he keeps running after the stupid soccer ball like the good dog he is.

By the time the score is four to four for Ricky he thinks he has had enough of the game for the whole summer. Sure, it is fun because it’s Ricky and it’s soccer and it’s summer—the three things he likes the most. But he is sweating buckets and truth to be told, they are equally as good so whenever Gyuvin scores a goal, so does Ricky five minutes later and whenever Ricky does Gyuvin follows just as quickly.

It takes them another while to raise the score to five to four in Gyuvin’s favor before they finally fall onto the grass close to one another. For it being so late in the night the grass still feels warm under Gyuvin’s arms and he likes how it tickles his legs.

Neither of them talk for a minute or so, too busy trying to regain control of their lungs, until Ricky says, “You had a singular practice more than me so basically… cheating.”

Gyuvin cackles from where he is laying star legged on the grass and rolls over onto his stomach to be closer to Ricky and nods somberly. “All I needed to surpass your skills, babe,” he teases and Ricky hits his shoulder. He barely feels it. Nyangnyang punch.

Gyuvin catches his fist in the air when he wants to pull it back, thumb stroking over the pale, soft skin and pink knuckles.

“Hey,” Gyuvin says, more quietly than before because it suddenly feels so still all around them, now that they have stopped running and playing and panting, that he feels scared to disturb that peace. “How are you doing, Kim Ricky?”

His eyes only focus on Ricky’s big, dark eyes and his white blond hair. To Gyuvin he looks exactly like the shy teenager he was when they first met, like the boy he first fell in love with over shared seasons and doesn’t plan on ever falling out of love with for the rest of his life.

“Always good, Shim Qubing. Like this. When we’re together I always feel good.”

Gyuvin dips his head down to plant a wet kiss on Ricky’s forehead. It earns him a grimace from the blond boy but he doesn’t attempt to wipe it away.

“You’re such a flirt,” Gyuvin tells him with a grin and Ricky returns it happily. He knows how to play this game, after all.

Gyuvin rolls further towards Ricky onto his back, who shuffles away a little to give Gyuvin enough space to lie down next to him. Ricky’s shoulders are surprisingly warm even through the hoodie and Gyuvin suddenly feels cold in only his tshirt.

He wishes to share all that heat with Ricky; like a man born in the coldest part of Antarctica, starving for someone’s body heat all his life. One of his hands slips under the material to rest over Ricky’s waist. Gyuvin can feel him shiver under the touch of his cool fingertips.

“Do you see that?” Gyuvin extends his other arm towards the night sky, pointing towards a collection of stars so rarely visible through Seoul’s bright city lights and all the emission collected in the city throughout the day.

“Yeah,” Ricky breathes.

“It might just look like a star but it’s actually a planet. Like somewhere really far away on some… planet where there are only strawberries and mangos. And two of them are us—not like this but like them. Where we still found each other, even though we are fruits who can’t talk at all.” (Ricky giggles and mumbles something along the lines of Good for me but Gyuvin chooses to ignore it.) “If they can, I am sure they are also looking up into the sky at this moment. And there,” he moves his finger towards another few faraway stars, more distant from the strawberry-mango-cluster, “I’m probably a dog and you’re some fancy kitty cat I can’t keep myself from running after. Pretty similar to this one.” Ricky shows all his teeth as he laughs and Gyuvin turns his head to the side to watch.

“Why, are you denying your identity as a fancy kitty cat? Because you can’t. I literally lured you here with snacks and toys.”

His fingers on Ricky’s waist squeeze the skin lightly and the boy squirms under Gyuvin’s touch, pawing at his arm.

“Never,” Ricky says breathlessly and shakes his head, biting down onto his bottom lip to avoid making any sounds. “After all, with all your entitlement how could I ever be anything else?”

Gyuvin’s lips rise into a grin then, because he is so smitten with his boyfriend he would smile at anything he does—no matter how stupid the conversation or how late in the day. He moves his fingers down his stomach to the waistband of his boxers in his pants and pulls it back a little before letting it go to snap against his skin slightly. Ricky gasps at the unexpected sensation just as Gyuvin pulls his hand away to lay on his own stomach.

“What’s wrong with you,” Ricky whines and Gyuvin shakes his head while laughing.

“You’re just too cute. Actually, all your sweetness makes my teeth ache,” Gyuvin presses his palms against the sides of his cheeks and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to actually look hurt to the other boy.

Ricky rolls his eyes while changing positions so he is laying on the side next to Gyuvin, head propped up on his hand.

“Then, as your resident caretaker I will do my best to ease your pains. Tell me where it hurts exactly, Sir,” he speaks, too familiar with Gyuvin’s antics now.

The latter pops one of his eyes open, considering his options.

“Right here,” he taps his index finger against his cheek before moving over to the other side and doing the same thing there. “Also here, and here.” One tap to his chin and one to his lips because he is a simple person at heart.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Ricky says dryly before he leans down to give a peck on one of Gyuvin’s cheeks and then on the other as well. “Are you starting to get better then?”

“Barely so,” Gyuvin sighs and Ricky resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

“That leaves no option but to continue with the treatment then.”

“Sounds awesome.”

Ricky snorts. He closes the distance between them again to kiss his cheeks a couple of times before moving around the area on his chin and the outline of his lips. Gyuvin hums in contentment, hands moving over Ricky’s arms and to his thighs to pull him forward onto his lap.

“How’s now?”

Ricky is a bit breathless, hands laying flat against the fabric of Gyuvin’s tshirt.

“I feel like it actually is getting slightly better,” Gyuvin comtemplates until he nods with full conviction, lips pursed and Ricky raises an eyebrow. Full judgement.

Gyuvin doesn’t mind.

“You’re probably my worst patient.”

“You have other patients?” Gyuvin furrows his eyebrows in irritation and Ricky deadpans while shaking his head.

“It’s surprising how someone with your kind of grades can act this stupid,” Ricky responds but doesn’t wait for Gyuvin to answer before he leans back down to kiss him on the lips this time, successfully shutting him up.

The kiss is sloppy, starting out far messier than before their game and Gyuvin makes a pleased noise into Ricky’s mouth, grip tightening on his legs. His tongue moves over his teeth to find Ricky’s just as the older boy pulls back to sit up straight. He flicks his fingers at Gyuvin’s forehead and Gyuvin frowns at him from underneath.

“Get a grip,” Ricky tells him, rolling off his lap back onto the grass next to him.

“You’re always so mean to me…” Gyuvin complains while still rubbing his slightly reddened forehead with one hand, the other one searching for Ricky’s and finding it on the grass field to intertwine their fingers. Ricky lets him, of course, because he is a nice person.

“But,” Ricky halts to look Gyuvin in the eyes, voice quiet suddenly, “you love me for it, anyway.”

“I do,” Gyuvin replies without needing to think about it at all, leaving not even a second of doubt between them. “I love you. I always love you. Even when I beat you in soccer and when you beat me. And when your grades are better than mine—especially if they are. And when I can’t see you and when I can. In summer and fall and winter and-“

“I love you, too,” Ricky interrupts him, voice as softly quiet as usual. “I love you most when I am with you but I think being apart makes me realize it more. So I guess being grounded is good for something, right?” His laugh feels forced and Gyuvin wants to do nothing more than to take Ricky and put him in his backpack to take him home to always keep him close—keep him happy.

“You don’t have to excuse their behavior with something like this,” Gyuvin tells him firmly, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I wish you wouldn’t need to.”

“Me too,” the blond tells him, voice raw and when Gyuvin sits up he pulls Ricky along with him so that he can cup his face in his hands. Ricky blinks at him slowly, ever like a gentle cat.

“You are worth so much more than what your parents make you out to be and I want you to always know that. I love you, no matter where you are but I wish you can be yourself—that should be your priority. Not to please them or to please me but to live life for yourself. Promise me you are happy, mhm?”

Gyuvin lets go of Ricky’s cheeks to stretch his pinky out to him.

Ricky chuckles, eyes shining like the stars above and breaths an Okay. He hooks his pinky around Gyuvin’s, moving his thumb forward to press them against one another. Sealed.

“Wow, I feel so relieved now,” Gyuvin jokes, moving his shoulders back and forth like he just ran a marathon or sat through a six hour exam. Ricky giggles at him because that’s what teenagers in love do.

“I’m happiest with you,” Ricky admits, a smile on his lips and Gyuvin hopes it never fades.

“Although,” he pushes himself off of the grass and stretches his hands out for Gyuvin to hold onto, “there seems to always be plenty of time to get sappy when we are together and never enough to get out onto the field and play.”

Pretty wise words, Gyuvin agrees.

“Alright, make peace with the fact that I will beat you a second time,” he teases, patting some blades of grass off his pants.

“You wish,” Ricky simply answers only to dash off to where they left the ball before their little break.

Gyuvin doesn’t follow for a moment. He looks after Ricky and watches him kick the ball back and forth a few times, light hair falling into his face. They will have to meet up to dye his roots some time next week, probably.

If someone would have told him he would turn into the older boy’s personal hair stylist a few years ago he might have laughed in their face—because who is he to deal with any type of chemical products at this age? But eighteen year-old Gyuvin finds the most joy in simply being in Ricky’s presence so if that involves applying bleach on his roots so gladly be it.

When they’re together, they’re just Gyuvin and Ricky. They don’t have to be someone’s son or brother or classmate or teammate or mentor. They are the same Ricky and Gyuvin they were when they met at soccer camp at fifteen and at the same time, they are the same Gyuvin and Ricky they are when they walk to the convenience store together after practice, buying each other the exact flavor of ice cream they know the other person loves.

Their feet move in the same way and even their hearts’ rhythm seems to match when Gyuvin tries to listen.

It is easy like that, when it’s just them. Easy to forget about strict parents and bad grades and the scrapes on their knees you can never really be careful enough about during practice.

When it’s just summer and soccer and Gyuvin and Ricky.

That is when the world spins the smoothest and Gyuvin’s heart feels the most at ease, beating in steady sync with Ricky’s—even when someone tries to keep them apart.

Summer can never be locked up in a room, in tries of drowning it in books—because Gyuvin will never cease finding a way to bring summer to Ricky.

Summer is Ricky just as much as it is Gyuvin.

Summer is always theirs.