But if I'm Gay and You're Gay, Then Who's Driving the Car?

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/52158049.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: ZEROBASEONE | ZB1 (Korea Band)
Relationships: Kim Gyuvin/Shen Quanrui | Ricky, Sung Hanbin/Zhang Hao
Characters: ZEROBASEONE | ZB1 Ensemble, Shen Quanrui | Ricky, Kim Gyuvin,
Park Gunwook, Han Yujin (ZEROBASEONE), Sung Hanbin, Zhang
Hao (ZEROBASEONE), Ddungjjungham - Character
Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe -
College/University, Idiots in Love, Extremely stupidly oblivious idiots in
love, Haobin Supreme Gay Overlords, Gunwook is driving the car,
Attempt at Humor, Brojobgate, Evil Genius!Gunwook, Explicit Sexual
Content, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-12-10 Updated: 2025-06-24 Words: 109,207 Chapters:
15/18
 But if I'm Gay and You're Gay, Then Who's Driving the Car?
by tianxinglin (besthonestliar)

Summary

In which Gyuvin and Ricky team up to win their university’s annual Best Couple Contest and
knock their sunbaes (last year's winners: Sung Hanbin and Zhang Hao) down a peg.

The problem is, they’re not actually a couple.

Notes

hi :p
gyubrick have been crazy recently so here i am. i have to contribute something.

please enjoy my humble offering :)

and it will take a bit before we get to the fake dating but please bear with me and enjoy the
shenanigans!

PS the chapter titles are not going to make any sense

See the end of the work for more notes

 Ddungjjungham: A Quarter-life Crisis

Ricky averts his eyes, allergic to the public display of affection in front of him. They’re not
even kissing. They’re not even touching. But the steady gazes of loving adoration being
exchanged between Zhang Hao and Hanbin are enough to curdle the strawberry milkshake
sitting on the table. An icky sensation spreads from his chest to his peripheries.

“I can feel their aura even when I can’t see them,” he complains to Gyuvin, who looks up
from his laptop, presumably to see why Ricky is no longer sketching on his tablet. He doesn’t
need to explain, Gyuvin already knows what he’s talking about.

“They’re in love, just let them be,” Gyuvin says, just to be contrary and pokes his tongue out
at Ricky. “You were just as bad when you had a crush on Jiwoong-hyung.”

Ricky levels Gyuvin with a glare that would make a lesser man fall to his knees.

“Do you not enjoy living?” he hisses, kicking Gyuvin’s bony shins under the table. Gyuvin
stiffens and howls in pain, clutching his leg.

Multiple heads swivel round in the library to look for the source of the disturbance. The
librarian shoots them a poisonous expression.

“Anyway, you didn’t find them cute when we got sexiled about two hundred times in first
year.”

Gyuvin acquiesces with a shrug and sticks his tongue out at Ricky.

“Stop distracting me, Kim Ricky,” he scolds, and attempts to mess up his hair. Ricky hisses at
him and bats his hand away. “This essay isn’t going to write itself.”

At that moment, Zhang Hao decides to make his way to their table, his left hand on Hanbin’s
waist and his right hand on Hanbin’s shoulder. Hanbin’s hands are carrying Zhang Hao’s bag.
It’s horrible.

“You troublemakers,” he says by way of greeting. “the librarian is gonna ban you some day.”
Hanbin laughs as if Zhang Hao made the funniest joke in the world, throwing his head back,
cat whiskers appearing on his cheeks.

“Nah,” Gyuvin dismisses. “My knowledge of the Dewey Decimal System is far too priceless
for her to get rid of me. I used to volunteer here.”

“I’ll pretend like I know what that means,” Hanbin says, patting Gyuvin on the head. “Do
you mind if we join you?”
“It might kill Ricky,” Gyuvin says but nevertheless shuffles his chair to make room for their
hyungs.

“Eh, why?” Zhang Hao side-eyes Ricky, pursing his lips. “Quanrui-didi adores us though,
don’t you? He sits down next to Hanbin, moving their chairs so close their shoulders overlap.

“I hate gay people,” Ricky says with a sigh. “You guys make me so homophobic.”

Zhang Hao tuts.

“Don’t be like that, Ricky,” he chides, hitting Ricky on the shoulder. “You and Gyuvin are
also extremely annoying to be around.”

“We’re not even dating though?” Gyuvin points out, coming to Ricky’s defence.

“Exactly,” Hanbin says solemnly, watching the two of them with big shiny eyes. “That’s even
worse.”

“Imagine…” Zhang Hao mutters then shudders.

Ricky and Gyuvin turn to each other, confused.

“Huh?”

Gyuvin finishes the first draft of his essay at seven and Ricky is so hungry he drags all three
of them out the library. He’d finished his milkshake and all his snacks but his stomach was
still howling.

“Nice to spend time with my favourite dongsaengs,” Hanbin says, waving goodbye as they
go their separate ways.

“You say that to everyone!” shouts Gyuvin, waving back.

Ricky is already walking, eager to get home and heat up yesterday’s leftovers. A light drizzle
starts falling, to his dismay. He hates the rain.

“Umbrella,” he says and Gyuvin takes his bag automatically so Ricky can open his black
umbrella for them to take shelter under. Gyuvin holds the umbrella because he's taller and
because Ricky's hands get cold easily. He likes to keep an arm wrapped around Ricky too
under the umbrella, because it's more efficient for them to stay dry if they're closer together.
Gyuvin's weird like that sometimes.

Gunwook is already home when they get home, hunched over his laptop on the sofa. He’s got
his glasses on and forehead wrinkled in concentration. He grunts to acknowledge their
presence.
“We saw Zhang Hao and Hanbin-hyung today,” Ricky tells him. Gunwook nods, but his eyes
stay locked on his screen.

“Kim Ricky! Take your coat and shoes off first!”

“I literally just got home.”

“The umbrella’s dripping water onto the carpet thanks to you.”

“Do you hear how stupid you sound? Your coat’s dripping water too.”

“Your mum’s dripping water.”

“Your brains are dripping out your ears, not that there’s much to-“

“Oh my god, shut up!” Gunwook bellows over both of them, finally putting his work down.
“The only time I have peace is when you two aren’t here.”

“Gyuvin started it,” Ricky says, admittedly childishly. But first things first, dinner!

Once his belly’s warm and full, Ricky is far less irritable. He’s contented and sprawled across
the sofa, hands over his bloated stomach like he’s five months pregnant. Gyuvin chooses that
moment to launch himself on top of Ricky, making him screech like an angry cat.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky says sternly but he lets Gyuvin worm his way onto the sofa, positioning
himself so they’re sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, legs tangled together.

Gunwook looks like he’s contemplating whether to join the huddle, but it’s not a large sofa
and they’re three long lanky men. He decides on settling down cross-legged, facing them
over the coffee table, peering over the top of his glasses like a teacher.

“Yujin’s coming over to stay for this weekend,” Gyuvin announces suddenly. “Hanbin-hyung
has his weekend trip with Hao-hyung. He asked me to babysit.”

“Isn’t Yujin like…seventeen?” Gunwook says. “Can’t he look after himself?”

Ricky thinks back to Hanbin’s nephew, a tall gangly boy who normally looks like there’s
nothing going on behind his eyes (which hides his surprisingly sharp wits).

“Sixteen,” he corrects Gunwook. “It’s still young.”

“Maybe because I’m still nineteen and you two are twenty,” Gunwook defends himself. “The
age gap doesn’t feel as large.”

“Well, I said yes when he asked.” Gyuvin shrugs.

“And when was that?”

“Five minutes ago.”

Ricky breathes out slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. He has no issue with Yujin
coming over – in fact, he’s quite attached to the little guy but sometimes Gyuvin. He’s too
much. Always saying yes to favours without even thinking for a second about himself. That
was how Gyuvin had ended up walking all eight dogs in his neighbourhood at once.

Yujin lives with his uncle Hanbin because he had gotten into a prestigious performing arts
school away from home and rather than be a boarder, his mother had realised Hanbin’s
university wasn’t far from Yujin’s school….resulting in Zhang Hao and Hanbin taking him
in.

“I love Yujin and everything,” Gunwook begins haltingly, looking cautiously at Gyuvin. “But
isn’t Matthew’s party on Saturday?” We can’t exactly take him, is implied in his words.

Hm. Ricky stretches his leg into a more comfortable position, his toes brushing Gyuvin’s
inner thigh. Gyuvin jolts like he’d gotten an electric shock. Ricky is about to mutter an
apology when Gyuvin speaks.

“Why don’t we just bring him?” he declares. Flat silence fills their tiny living room.

“This is Mathew we’re talking about,” Ricky chipps in. Matthew’s parties were always crazy.
Bizarre things happened whenever Matthew hosted. The infamous dance-off between Hanbin
and Haruto with no existing footage, despite everyone filming it. It only lives on in their
memories. The bathtub filled with maple syrup, that Matthew denied having a hand in, and
the unfortunate Taerae who had almost drowned in it. Jiwoong jumping off the roof of the
house while madly drunk, only to miraculously land and roly-poly to a halt, free of harm.

Ricky himself had woken up on a sinking inflatable flamingo, only to discover he was in the
pond of their local nature reserve and being attacked by a horde of violent geese, with no
memory of how he had got there. He shudders at the memory.

Yujin could die there. Or worse, end up involved in the bizarre party event.

“We’ll look after him,” Gyuvin whines. “I’ll keep an eye on him all evening. Nothing will
happen. C’mon! I’m good with kids!”

Famous last words.

Yujin is very excited, to say the least. He seems to have no objection in being ‘babysat’,
although he does insist he’s not a baby. Ricky takes one look at him standing at the doorstep
and his heart wells up with parental adoration. No wonder Gyuvin wants to fight Hanbin-
hyung for custody with him.

“I’ve always wanted to meet Matthew-hyung!” he says, as Gyuvin carries his suitcase into
his bedroom. Gunwook is holding Yujin’s rucksack and Ricky is left to carry the toy hamster
Yujin has also brought with him. “Uncle Hanbin always says he’s too busy to come and look
after me."

“Uncle Hanbin says I have to look after Ddungjjungham while he’s gone,” he’d explained, to
everyone’s confusion.

“You know that’s just a toy, right?” Ricky points out bluntly, squishing the hamster’s face in
his fist. He uses the same tone he had when he started elementary school and destroyed
everyone’s belief in Santa Claus. Yujin tenses up, his hands balling into fists. “That or
Hanbin-hyung’s finally gone senile.”

“Whoa! WHOA!” Gyuvin yells, already sliding in between them to deescalate the situation.
“We do not insult Ddungjjungham in this household.”

Ricky raises his eyebrows, curious as to why Gyuvin is entertaining this delusion. In fact,
he’s confused why Zhang Hao hadn’t shut this ridiculous concept down either, given how
greedy he is for Hanbin’s attention. Is Ddungjjungham meant to be their grandson? That
would make for a confusing family tree.

Gunwook’s lips are pursed tightly and he’s shaking silently, holding back laughter.

“Hanbin-hyung’s quarter-life crisis,” Gyuvin stage-whispers to them. “He’s been treating it

like it’s his pet. Because the landlord doesn’t allow pets.”

That didn’t really explain why Yujin also seemed convinced the hamster is real too but then
again, teenagers are another breed.

Gyuvin is taking the sofa (or so he claims) as he’d insisted Yujin stay in his room. Ricky has
no doubt that Gyuvin will try to wriggle his way into Ricky’s bed at some point in the night
though, so he’d bought a lock for his door for that very reason.

Friday night is spent eating takeout while watching Haikyuu at Gunwook’s insistence. Yujin
had been hooked and the two of them had done an all-nighter binge-watching season one.

Ricky had given up at around four o’clock in the morning, when the blue light from the TV
screen was beginning to give him a headache. He pries Gyuvin off him and goes to brush his
teeth, wondering if he should try clearing up the takeout containers before deciding he's too
tired. Ricky's just about to slip under the covers when Gyuvin patters into his room silently
and gets into Ricky’s bed without a word.

Ricky could kick Gyuvin out if he really wants to. Gyuvin could go and sleep in Gunwook’s
bed, as Gunwook is probably going to end up crashing on the sofa anyway.

Their beds are only three quarters, so two in a bed is possible but more squashed than a
double. The way Gyuvin sleeps is also annoying, he steals the covers, throws his limbs
around and for some reason his feet are always ice cold, no matter the temperature.

Ricky stares at Gyuvin, who has his eyes closed already.

“Ricky…come to bed,” Gyuvin mumbles sleepily, trying to beckon Ricky. His arm falls back
down before he completes the motion and he starts to snore.

Ricky sighs. He could go sleep on Gunwook’s bed now if he wanted. But he ends up like
sardines in a can next to Gyuvin and falls asleep in no time, even as Gyuvin throws an errant
arm around his waist.

The party is in full swing when they get there. Ricky is always fashionably late, with no
exceptions, and given the amount of time he needs to get ready, it’s understandable.

He not only does his own make-up this time, but lets Yujin try on a pair of blue contacts. This
time, he’s opted for the leopard print shirt, which he can pull off, despite everyone else’s
feedback and Gyuvin’s insistence he should try something else. Gyuvin is dressed casually
but he’d let Ricky add some glitter to his face before they left.

Ricky wants to add something more to his face, but he’s not sure what and Gunwook was
getting antsy, as punctuality actually matters to him.

Matthew’s place isn’t that big, but the garden is huge and that’s where most of the fun is
happening. Music is blasting through waterproof Bluetooth speakers and people are dancing
together, drinks dotted all over the patio.

It’s more chill inside the living room, which has been commandeered by Taerae and his
guitar. There’s a karaoke session ongoing, with several members of the choir and acapella
society there.

They find Matthew in kitchen, having become the bartender. He’s got a whole set-up of
spirits and mixers, even a proper mixer. Quite a few people are just watching him mixes the
cocktail, probably because of the way his arm muscles flex as he does so.

“You’re finally here!” he cries, putting down the mixer to hug all of them. When he gets to
Yujin, he lets out a whoop of delight, picking the teen up and spinning him around.

“Hanbin-hyung’s told me so much about you!” Matthew says enthusiastically, patting his
head. “I always tell him he should bring you around but it never worked out.”

Somehow, Ricky suspects this may be on purpose. It’s not that Matthew is a danger to
children, but he brings out the unhinged side in people, especially Hanbin, who likes to keep
a mask of normalcy up in front of his nephew.

“Make sure he doesn’t get a drink,” Gunwook tells Matthew firmly. Ricky notices his eyes,
like many of those around them, also flicker to Matthew’s arms. “Only soft drinks and juice
for Yujin.”
“No problem, dude!” Matthew says, clapping Gunwook on the back hard. “Yujin will be
absolutely safe. I’ll tell Jiwoong and Taerae to keep an eye on him too.”

“Speaking of Jiwoong-hyung, where is he?” Gyuvin asks, looking around. He hadn’t been in
the pool either.

“I don’t know,” Matthew says with a shrug but there’s something off in his tone. “I think he
might be upstairs. He’ll come down eventually though.”

Ricky and Gyuvin exchange a look, they’ve both caught onto it. Well, there’s nothing they
can do for now. Matthew pushes the punch bowl towards them.

“You should try my latest concoction,” he says mischievously, ladling the murky brown
liquid into paper cups for them. Yujin is handed a bottle of coke to nurse, which he accepts,
looking crestfallen. “It’ll give you a great buzz.”

Gunwook shouts a toast and they bump their cups together, some liquid sloshing over the
rim. Ricky takes a sip of the punch and swallows with great effort. It’s absolutely disgusting
and tastes terribly potent.

Well, Ricky wasn’t planning on getting smashed tonight. They still have to look after Yujin,
after all.

“You know, the Best Couple Contest is coming up soon,” says Keita. They’re somewhere in
the garden, perched on a picnic mat on the lawn. It's early May so the evenings are beginning
to warm up. “Do you know if Zhang Hao and Hanbin will enter again?”

Ricky pretends to heave.

“Blegh,” he says, shaking his empty cup. Next to him are Kamden, Gunwook and Junhyeon.
Hanbin had just rang up Gyuvin to see how Yujin was doing and he’d sprinted out Matthew’s
house away from the music to try and conceal the fact their precious baby (and
Ddungjjungham) were both at said party.

“I won’t tell on you,” Matthew had said with a wink at them. “Hanbin-hyung will never find
out Yujin was here.”

“They won last year, right?” Junhyeon says. Gunwook nods at him, draining his cup.

The Best Couple Content is a university tradition started a few years ago by the Student
Union that had blown up in popularity. It had started small, an event where couples did
challenges and the audience voted for the winners, whoever they thought had the best
chemistry or were most entertaining. It had expanded into having several elimination rounds
and a finale that was livestreamed and a whole app had been made for voting.
Zhang Hao and Hanbin had entered last year and won with a clean sweep, easily making off
with the prize, an all-inclusive three day romantic getaway.

“They’ll be even more revolting if they win again,” Ricky complains. Zhang Hao would be
so smug. He still boasted about their win from last year and had spammed his Instagram with
Paris couple photos.

“I’m sure someone can dethrone them,” Kamden says thoughtfully. His head tilts to one side
as he falls deeper into contemplation and spaces out. “Jeno and Jaemin are a really popular
campus couple too.”

“I don’t think they’re competing this year,” Keita says, shaking his head. “Jeno is taking a
year out in New York, from what I’ve heard.”

“Imagine if one of us entered,” Gunwook says, just as Gyuvin returns, giving them a thumbs
up. It looked like Hanbin had been successfully deceived. “We could give them a run for their
money.”

“You do get a free holiday out of it,” Junhyeon says wistfully and flops down onto the picnic
mat to stare at the night sky. “I’m so broke right now.”

“We’re literally all single,” Kamden says bluntly. “How would we enter?”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone is forcefully yanked back to their depressing reality.

“I do want to take Zhang Hao down a peg,” Ricky says. And while he was far from broke, it
wasn’t like he couldn’t appreciate winning something for free.

“How come you don’t call him hyung?” Junhyeon asks curiously. Ricky shrugs.

“Probably because I just call him Zhang Hao in Chinese,” he says. “I try to with other people
around but sometimes I forget.”

The topic turns to something else. Ricky is content to just listen, his mind fuzzy with alcohol.
All the liquid he has starts to make itself known in his body and Ricky drags Gyuvin with
him back to the house so he can relieve himself.

Gyuvin waits dutifully outside the bathroom, guarding it from anyone else as Ricky also
gives himself a onceover and fixes his makeup.

“Do you need to go?” Ricks asks, once he’s done. Gyuvin shakes his head, beaming at Ricky
dopily.

“Went earlier.”

Someone pushes past them, knocking into Ricky and he stumbles forward, his chest bumping
against Gyuvin’s. They end up doing a wild tarantella backwards through one of the open
bedroom doors to regain their balance but the momentum carries them until Gyuvin’s back
bumps against French windows.
They’re in someone’s bedroom, Taerae’s by the looks of the music scores on the desk. The
windows look out into the garden. The nightlights are coming on now, lighting up the patio
floor and flowerbeds.

In their attempt to not fall flat on their faces, Gyuvin’s got a hand gripping Ricky’s waist and
another round his neck. They realise how close they are at the same time and just kind of
freeze.

Ricky feels like he should say something, but he doesn’t know what. Normally Gyuvin would
just let out a laugh then they’d go back to their usual scheduled programming but for some
reason, neither of them move. Ricky just stares at Gyuvin, like they’re frozen in time.

Something catches his attention from the corner of his eye out the window – some kind of
animal is climbing one of the oak trees at the back of the garden and is pretty high up too.

Ricky blinks. It’s not an animal, it’s a person. With baggy jeans and a beanie. Unnaturally icy
blue eyes lock onto his and Ricky’s jaw drops. The contacts he had leant Yujin.

He steps backwards, breaking Gyuvin’s grip on him as panic sets in.

“Yujin,” he manages to stammer out. “Tree.”

“What’re you talking about?” Gyuvin says so Ricky just points, as Yujin climbs higher and
higher. There’s a small crowd gathering around the base of the tree now, cheering him on.
“What the fuck?”

Gyuvin rarely swears, so he’s scared shitless right now.

They sprint towards the tree, pushing through the curious onlookers.

“Get down from there!” Gyuvin hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Han Yujin!
What do you think you’re doing?”

Yujin isn’t just climbing by himself, he’s also got Ddungjjungham with him, tucked in his
sleeve.

Ricky wonders if Yujin is trying to get to the top of the tree just to be at the highest point, or
if he’s looking for something.

Yujin hears Gyuvin’s bellowing and his determined expression drops into one of slight panic.

“Yujin, it’s dangerous!” Ricky calls, straining his voice to be as loud as he can. “Don’t go any
higher, just stay where you are.”

Gunwook’s already run back to try and get a ladder, to find someone else to help. Like
Matthew for instance.

They’d all failed miserably in babysitting. How was this possible? They’d all taken turns
watching over him!
Matthew rushes out the house with Jiwoong and Taerae, mouth wide open in shock.

“This is all my fault,” he pants, doubled over, having sprinted to them. “We were chatting and
I mentioned that I climbed that tree before and found a family of squirrels living there.”

Ricky frowns. Surely Yujin wouldn’t be three meters up a tree just to see some squirrels?

There are shouts from the crowd and Yujin is triumphantly holding a ginger cat in his hand,
quite small one looking to be halfway between a kitten and a fully grown adult.

“He was rescuing a cat?” Gyuvin says in disbelief. “Why is there a cat here?”

Gunwook returns with a ladder from the garage and Jiwoong and Matthew prop it up against
the tree and Yujin passes the cat down to them, looking very pleased with himself in the heat
of the moment.

All’s well ends well, Ricky is thinking to himself. So this was the bizarre event. Yujin
rescuing a random cat.

Yujin starts to lower himself down the branches too, feet sliding down to another foothold,
when one of the branches he’s holding with his hand snaps – and in slow motion, to
everyone’s horror, Yujin falls with a quiet shout.

He lands with a thud on the ground and it’s completely silent – someone had stopped the
music and most of the partygoers are filling up the back of the garden.

“He’s meditating, guys!” shrieks a drunk girl hysterically, and someone shushes her. "No, he's
died!" yells a man back at her.

“Shut the fuck up!” Taerae yells as the crowd begins to mutter in response. His voice projects
magnificently and cuts through the chatter like a knife. "Party's over, now go back home!"

He sounds so scary that people don't even protest, they just start to leave.

Ricky and Gyuvin run over to him and oh god, Ricky’s heart drops in relief as Yujin sits up.
He’s still conscious.

But Yujin is pale, biting his lip in pain. His forearm is twisted oddly and bent out of shape.

“Hyung,” Yujin says tearfully looking at Gyuvin. “I think it’s broken.”

Then he bursts into tears.

 The Rise and Fall of Fat Hambin, and a Soft Launch
Chapter Summary

The aftermath of Chapter 1. Ricky's life goes in an unexpected direction.

Chapter Notes

i am back with a chapter much longer than i expected!

unbetaed atm so excuse any errors but i wanted to get this out asap!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Ricky is sat in the waiting room at A&E, tapping his leg on the floor. They hadn’t called an
ambulance in the end, because Jiwoong was sober and had sped through about five traffic
lights to get them to hospital. Gyuvin, as Yujin’s unofficial third parent had insisted on
coming and with him looking completely shellshocked, Ricky had no choice but to
accompany him. There was no point in Gyuvin looking after Yujin if he had a nervous
breakdown.

It seemed like Yujin’s tears had been caused more by the shock of falling than any actual
damage. He’d been able to stand up and walk without issue. It turns out the misshapen bulge
of Yujin’s arm was actually Ddungjjungham under his sleeve, whose presence had been
forgotten.

Yujin’s arm is still painful and swelling up rapidly but it’s not bent out of shape. No bones are
sticking through his flesh.

Ddungjjungham or alternatively Fat Hambin (as Matthew had gleefully translated into
English) is in fact the main casualty. The chubby hamster not only took the brunt of the fall,
but also potentially saved Yujin’s life.

You see, there’d been a sharp metal nail on the ground where Yujin fell. The doctor explained
to them that had it gone through Yujin’s arm, it could have hit an artery or busted his nerve.
This metal nail is now embedded through Ddungjjungie’s chest, speared right into his heart
(stuffing?). Only a tiny part of the nail scraped Yujin, leaving him with a small cut that the
doctor had given him a tetanus jab for.

But thanks to Ddungjunggie’s sacrifice, Yujin only had a minor wrist fracture. He would need
a cast for 4-6 weeks but the doctor seemed convinced it would heal without any other
complications.

Surely this is the bizarre event of the party, Ricky thinks to himself.

In the waiting room, Gyuvin had been shaking like a leaf, even worse than Yujin himself.

“What am I going to tell Hanbin-hyung,” groans Gyuvin, massaging his brows in distress.
“What am I going to tell Yujin’s mum? Oh god, don’t even get me started on Hao-hyung.”

Yujin is also starting to look scared but for another reason entirely.

“Ricky-hyung,” he says tentatively, as Gyuvin’s currently got his face buried in his hands,
moaning in. “We don’t have to tell Uncle Hanbin where I hurt my wrist, right?”

“You mean the fact that we took you to a party?” Ricky replies. Yujin has a point. If Hanbin
knew it’d they’d taken Yujin to a party, not to mention one of Matthew’s parties, he might
never let them babysit Yujin again. “I think he’d be angrier with us, than you.”

“They’re all going to hate me,” Gyuvin whines, now tugging at Ricky’s arm. “What do I do,
Ricky? Ricky, Ricky, Ricky. Help me…”

“I don’t want to get you guys in trouble though,” Yujin says on Ricky’s other side. “I like
staying with you guys too, I get more freedom.”

Gyuvin keeps blabbering to his left, now smushing his face into Ricky’s shoulder, his chin
digging in. Why is he crying? His tears are wetting Ricky’s new shirt and now his nose is
running, the tip of it bright red in a way that’s definitely annoying and not cute.

“Should I call Hanbin and tell him the truth? Should I make it up? Should I just write a letter
and apologise? Should I get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?”

“Ricky-hyung, do you know how we could fix Ddungjjungie? I think Uncle Hanbin’s going
to cry if he sees him. I can’t sew though. You’re good with clothes right, hyung? Do you
think you could-?”

“Both of you, quiet.” Ricky finally snaps, throwing a hand up at each of them, unable to
focus. “Stop panicking. We can worry about what to do after the doctor sees Yujin.”

The four of them are sitting in the living room like they’re in a World War II air raid shelter,
waiting for the bombs to start dropping. Ricky is generally good at pretending to be
unflappable but even his palms are sweating with nerves.

Zhang Hao and Hanbin are coming over to pick up Yujin today. His bags are packed and all
Yujin needs to do is put on his coat and shoes. Ricky had attempted to patch Fat Hambin up
with his limited tailoring skills, resulting in a row of jagged sutures across his chest.
Their collective fear is rooted in how Zhang Hao and Hanbin will react to the neon green
plaster cast across Yujin’s forearm and hand. Gyuvin was too scared to break the news by
phone, so instead they were going to face it full-on like real men.

The doorbell rings and they all freeze up.

“It’s your uncle,” Gunwook hisses at Yujin but the boy doesn’t move an inch. The doorbell
rings once more and then someone (clearly Zhang Hao) begins spamming the doorbell with
hits.

Ricky rolls his eyes. For God’s sake. He takes the fall and opens the doors, only to
immediately feel extremely single and alone.

He checks out their get-up. Matching necklaces, rings and couple shirts. Zhang Hao
admittedly looks a lot better after his weekend trip, far more relaxed. His hair even looks
fluffier. Hanbin also looks less haggard, the almost-permanent wrinkles in his brow ironed
out smoother.

“Zhang Hao. Hanbin-hyung,” Ricky greets. He winces as Zhang Hao hits him.

“Where’s the hyung for me, you rascal?” Ricky shrugs. They do this slapstick routine every
time they meet.

“Did you guys have fun?”

Hanbin’s face lights up immediately. Ricky can tell there’s a tangent coming.

“Yes, Hao-hyung and I really got to relax. I wanted to go out to the nature reserve but um,”
Hanbin scratches his scalp sheepishly. “We spent a lot of time in the hotel – j-just relaxing
and stuff! We did go to the nature reserve in the end, but in the middle Hao-hyung got tired
and gosh, I ended up having to carry him back home. But then I got a blister on my foot.
Hao-hyung also surprised me with a nice dinner, I’d always wanted to try-”

Ricky tunes him out after a while, letting Hanbin babble on about his weekend as he chivvies
them through the front door.

“Where’s my best nephew?” Zhang Hao calls, stepping into the living room. Yujin cowers,
trying to hide his arm behind his back. “Come give your Hao-hyung a hug!”

The moment of truth is upon them. Yujin timidly shuffles up to Zhang Hao, extending his
arm. Instantly, Zhang Hao’s eyes narrow and his eyes zero in on the cast. Then he lets out a
piercing screech that has Hanbin rushing in, eyes round with panic.

“Yujin, your arm!” Zhang Hao is completely freaking out, checking Yujin all over. The
pieces slide into place for Hanbin and he gasps too.

“Han Yujin!” Hanbin says. “You’ve got some explaining to do.” He wheels around, shooting
laser beams at the rest of them. Gyuvin is unable to take it anymore. Ricky can see the exact
moment his resolve cracks.
“Hanbin-hyung, please forgive me,” Gyuvin starts, getting to his knees when Yujin interrupts
him.

“I fell.” He states simply. “Off a tree.”

“You fell off a tree?” repeats Hanbin in disbelief. “Why were you in a tree?”

“He was rescuing a kitten,” Gunwook chimes in, seeing a chance to save themselves and
omit the party part of the story. “I’m sorry, we didn’t realise till he was halfway up there.”

Zhang Hao looks like he has tears in his eyes and he hugs Yujin tight, to the boy’s protest.

“My sweet Yujinnie,” Zhang Hao says, “You’re so noble!”

His gaze hardens and he suddenly looks like a strict teacher.

“But you have to guarantee your own safety before you help others,” Zhang Hao admonishes.
“Unless it’s an emergency. If other people hadn’t been around to take you to the hospital, or if
your fall had resulted in you landing on your neck, then what? It’s good to be brave, but not
to be reckless.”

Yujin bites his lip, looking slightly ashamed at Zhang Hao’s words. It looks like Zhang Hao is
playing the bad guy today. Hanbin slips an arm around Zhang Hao, squeezing his shoulder.

“You’re alright now though?” he asks Yujin, “How serious is the injury?”

“It’s a minor wrist fracture,” Gyuvin explains. “The doctor didn’t need to set it or do surgery.
They put on a cast just to stop him moving his wrist so it can heal. They’ll see him in a month
again.”

The couple look relieved to hear that. Ricky’s also impressed, things had gone far more
smoothly than he’d anticipated. They’d managed to lie successfully and Hanbin wasn’t
blaming it on their babysitting skills as much.

Until Yujin pulls out Ddungjjungham and Hanbin sees the wonky stitches, some stuffing
peeking through the gaps of his gaping chest wound. He lets out a noise that could be easily
mistaken for a dying wounded animal.

They all watch in silence as Hanbin cradles Ddungjjungham to his chest like he’s
experiencing the death of his newborn.

Gunwook explains how Fat Hambin’s noble sacrifice had saved Yujin like he’s reading off an
eulogy. In the background, Ricky finds himself humming a slow funeral march to match the
mood. Hanbin appears to be blinking back tears.

“Your sacrifice was not in vain,” murmurs Hanbin, stroking Ddungjjungham’s head gently.
“You’ve done well, my friend.”

Wow, Gyuvin really hadn’t been exaggerating the quarter-life crisis. Ricky’s not sure what to
make of the grown man crying over his toy hamster’s metaphorical death.
“It’s fine though,” Zhang Hao says, reaching out and grabbing Ddungjjungham from Hanbin.
He scrummages around in his bag and hands something in a plastic packaging back to
Hanbin, then pockets dead Ddungjjungham.

Hanbin looks confused but takes the package from his boyfriend. Ricky squints too. Inside
the plastic, is an exact brand-new replica of Ddungjjungham.

“Just have this one instead,” Zhang Hao offers, patting Hanbin on the back. Hanbin doesn’t
respond, still staring in shock at the new hamster.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he asks Zhang Hao quietly. Hanbin isn’t smiling.

Ricky feels his stomach drop. Is…Is Hanbin mad at Zhang Hao?

It feels kind of terrifying. The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees. As
much as Ricky complains about how gross they are, he’s suddenly realising that their blatant
love-dovey displays of affection are a necessary evil in this world. Something isn’t right if
they’re not like that.

“You think you can just replace him like that?” whispers Hanbin, his fists clenching around
the packaging.

Gyuvin sidles up to Ricky, hooking his chin over Ricky’s shoulder.

“What’s going on?” he says into Ricky’s ear. Ricky twitches a little at tickling sensation of air
in his ear. He shrugs. Then he wriggles like a fish, because Gyuvin decides to back-hug
Ricky, arms around his waist.

Ricky wants to shake him off but there’s more pressing matters at hand. The very balance of
the universe was in doubt.

Yujin’s also retreated backwards, sitting down on the sofa next to Gunwook. The two of them
appear to be holding hands for moral support.

“Hanbin, you do realise this isn’t the first time Ddungjjungham’s died?” Zhang Hao says
warily, realising he may have made a misstep.

“What?” That one came from Yujin. Hanbin also looks whiplashed, utterly dazed by Zhang
Hao’s words.

“You carry that hamster with you all the time,” Zhang Hao says patiently. “I don’t think you
realised but you’ve lost him a few times. I didn’t want you to get upset about it so I got a few
spares as replacements.”

“You mean this isn’t the original Ddungjjungham?” Hanbin says, looking aghast. The plastic
crunches under his agitated hands. “Who is he? Which version just died?!”

“Ddungjjungham 3.0,” Zhang Hao says. “Now you have version 4.0,”
Hanbin’s eyes narrow. Ricky winces as Gyuvin’s chin digs even further into his bony
shoulder.

“Hyung, we need to talk about this,” he says lowly, swallowing hard. Zhang Hao lets out the
beginning of a sigh, then swallows it back down. It’s too late though because Hanbin’s eyes
narrow even further.

“Let’s head home, Yujin,” he says, the cheer having gone out his voice. Yujin looks
completely terrified.

“Is everything alright?” Gunwook says tentatively, testing the waters.

Hanbin plasters on an extremely fake smile.

“Of course, what’s the issue?”

A bead of metaphorical sweat rolls down everyone’s forehead.

“We’ll see you around!” Zhang Hao says, waving at them. He waves like a robot and then the
two of them trundle off, with Yujin in tow.

The door closes ominously. Ricky takes this as a chance to dislodge Gyuvin, who’s clinging
onto him like a barnacle to the bottom of a ship.

“What the fuck was that?” Ricky says. “Should I be worried?”

“It’s just a toy,” Gunwook says, stretching his arms. “I’m sure they’ll makeup in no time.
They’ve fought about more serious things in the past.”

Ricky waits for Gyuvin’s opinion on the matter.

“They’ll be fine,” Gyuvin says matter-of-factly. “I think it was just scary to watch.” Relief
floods Ricky’s stomach. It looks like he’d been reading too deeply into the whole thing.

“I’m still more surprised we got off without a lecture,” Gyuvin continues. “Yujin took the fall
for us.”

There’s a moment of silence for his sacrifice.

“I hate getting lectured by Zhang Hao,” Ricky agrees. “Although what he said to Yujin was
true.”

The next time they meet Zhang Hao and Hanbin, Ricky realises he was stupid for even being
worried. They were already back to their usual sickening selves. The only difference was
Zhang Hao was walking with a noticeable limp and a few bruises were peeking over his
collar and Hanbin gripping Zhang Hao’s sleeve as if someone was going to rip him away any
second.

They managed to be so attached at the hip that they could have been conjoined twins.
Yeah, Ricky stands by his original statement. They need to be stopped.

“I want a holiday.” Gyuvin wants a holiday.

He’s been banging on about it for days and it’s slowly driving Ricky up the wall. They’re
having breakfast and Gyuvin will complain about holidays. He mentions it at lunch and
dinner, and when he’s under Ricky’s covers, having sneaked into his bed yet again.

“We literally just had spring break,” Ricky had said. “You went to Japan with your family.”

“Holidays with family are different though,” Gyuvin had countered. “I want to go on a
holiday with my friends. You and Gunwook. And Matthew and Jiwoong and Taerae. Yujin.
Everyone.”

Gyuvin looks like he wants to express his frustration physically, through rolling around and
throwing his limbs everywhere on the bed. Ricky gives him a pointed look. Gyuvin is
expressly forbidden from doing exactly that, given the last he’d done it, he’d kicked a bottle
of Ricky’s perfume off his desk.

“That would be a logistical nightmare to organise,” he tells Gyuvin firmly, who pouts at him.
“Everyone would want different things at different times. When to eat. Sleep. Where to go.”

“I think we could make it work,” Gyuvin insists, rolling into a starfish position. “It would be
so much fun. All our friends all together.”

It would be fun, Ricky agrees privately but he doesn’t think it’ll happen any time soon.

“We could go on holiday together,” Ricky suggests, sitting down on the bed next to Gyuvin.
“If you really wanted to.”

“Just us?” Gyuvin says, scrambling into sitting position and leaning in far too close for
Ricky’s comfort. “You and me?”

“M-maybe Gunwook could come too,” Ricky adds hastily, thrown off by the intensity of
Gyuvin’s stare. “But we’ve gone on holiday together before.”

If possible, Gyuvin’s eyes widen even further, to the size of dinner plates.

“What? When?” His eyes narrow and he grabs Ricky by the wrists abruptly. “You guys never
told me about it, what the heck!”

Ricky tries to free himself from Gyuvin’s grip then gives up in the space of two seconds. He’s
got the grip strength of a coconut crab (which by the way, has a grip strength over 10 times
that of humans).
“It was a while ago, I just went with his family to a pension for a few days,” he confesses,
wondering why Gyuvin is so het up. Perhaps he feels left out. “It was before I knew you. In
high school.”

Gyuvin relaxes a little, looking less surprised.

“You’re hurting me,” Ricky says flatly. He releases Ricky’s wrists with a mumbled apology,
massaging them lightly but it’s too late. They’re both red. Ricky hopes they don’t bruise.

“Actually, I’ve also gone on holiday with Gunwook too,” Gyuvin admits sheepishly.

Now it’s Ricky’s turn to be shocked. He stares at Gyuvin, a range of emotions running
through him. Gyuvin waits patiently for him to react, knowing Ricky likes to process things
at his own pace.

Finally, Ricky decides on punching Gyuvin in the stomach. It probably packs as much force
as a pillow but it’s the thought that counts. Gyuvin is nice enough to pretend it hurts and
doubles over.

“Hypocrite,” he says, his lips twisting to the side. “When did you two go without me?”

“Just, um, stargazing,” Gyuvin tells him, “It was when you went back home to Shanghai
during the summer. Just camping. We cooked dinner, had some deep bro talk and listened to
music and chilled. That’s it, I swear!”

“Really?” Ricky is wondering why Gunwook kept silent about it. Did both of them really
forget about it? Or was there something else going on? A pit forms in his stomach but Ricky
doesn’t know why it makes him feel slightly uncomfortable. Maybe he just felt like he’d been
left out the loop.

“We didn’t say anything you don’t already know about!” Gyuvin blurts out, this time
choosing to hold Ricky’s hand, interlocking their fingers. “Seriously, Ricky, don’t be upset.
I’m not keeping any secrets from you! You know everything about me! You know that,
right?”

Ricky looks up from his lap to see Gyuvin’s imploring gaze. He looks so earnest and
desperate for Ricky to believe him.

“Look, I’m not lying,” Gyuvin insists and he unwinds their fingers, instead pressing Ricky’s
hand over his chest, so Ricky can feel the beat of his heart through Gyuvin’s shirt. Sure
enough, there’s a steady, constant thump.

Ricky feels the pulse, his hand getting warmer and warmer with Gyuvin’s pressed on top of
his. It’s somehow comforting. No, he can’t really be mad at Gyuvin, who wears his heart on
his sleeve. Gunwook is the one he’ll have to grill later because Gunwook likes to plan things
through. His actions always have intents and purposes.

Ricky leans his head against Gyuvin’s shoulder, snuggling into him. It’s a sign that he isn’t
mad at Gyuvin. He doesn’t have to say anything for Gyuvin to know.
“Why’s your heartbeat getting faster now though?”

The holiday business comes up again the next day. Ricky’s had it on his mind ever since their
discussion, and the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks a holiday with Gyuvin would
be really nice. It makes sense, after all. Both him and Gyuvin have had a holiday with
Gunwook but never with each other. They have to tick all the boxes.

In his lectures, Ricky had been distracted, thinking of possible destinations. He could take
Gyuvin to LA and show him his house and meet his mum and see where Ricky went to
school. Or go back to Shanghai so Gyuvin can see his childhood home and try all the Chinese
food Ricky loves most. Or they could go somewhere they both haven’t been, somewhere in
Europe perhaps. They could go to Italy and explore the art galleries and eat gelato while they
strolled next to the Arno. Maybe they could go somewhere tropical and warm like Bali and
enjoy the beach and sea.

It would be great fun and Ricky thinks it would be an excellent reward for after exams.
Gyuvin’s always said he loves travelling too and he would be good at finding interesting
places for them to visit and restaurants for them to eat, while Ricky would handle the hotels
and flights and find the best shops.

He’s explaining this all to Gyuvin and Gunwook as they’re walking to the library for their
weekend study session, giddy and excited. Ricky might even be skipping a little. That could
also be the sugar high from the three bubble teas he’s bought in preparation for studying
though.

“Because we’ve both been on holiday with you, Gunwook-ah,” Ricky adds on, to make sure
he doesn’t feel left out. “Although I didn’t know till yesterday.” He mutters under his breath.

Gunwook shrugs, not looking ashamed in the slightest.

“Go ahead,” he says, looking smug, as if he knows something that Ricky doesn’t. He
probably does, just because Gunwook is insanely smart. “No hard feelings.” There’s no
further clarification so Ricky leaves it at that.

Gyuvin has been nodding eagerly throughout Ricky’s ramble but now he’s frowning.

“Ricky, this sounds great and all…but no offence, where’s the money for this coming from?”
They reach the library entrance and scan their cards, going through the barrier one by one.
“My parents aren’t just going to let me jet off somewhere for holiday. I mean, I probably
could beg them but…”

Gyuvin bites his lip, looking troubled.

“I don’t want to shoot your proposal down or anything. It’s just my parents decided to invest
their extra money in properties recently and now my grandma’s got to go to a care home-”

“I’ll pay,” Ricky says simply. It’s no big deal to him. It can be his treat. “Think of it as your
birthday and Christmas present for this year. I’m alright with that. You keep saying you want
to go on holiday.” And I want to make you happy, he leaves out.

They go up a few flights of stairs and find one of the smaller rooms Gunwook had the
foresight of booking beforehand.

“I can’t accept that,” Gyuvin says straight away. “You’re not my sugar daddy!”

A stab of irritation pulses within Ricky.

“Why do you have to say it like that? I’m doing this because I want to. It’s not something
weird!”

“I can’t accept you paying for an entire holiday.”

“You can pay for some other stuff then,” Ricky says shortly, his vision of their beautiful
European holiday crumbling before his eyes. “If that makes you happy.”

Ricky knows he’s wealthy and he’s got privilege. Is it wrong of him to want to use it to make
Gyuvin happy? He’s getting more frustrated by the minute. Why can’t Gyuvin just accept the
gesture? Ricky isn’t just doing it out of selflessness, out of charity for Gyuvin. It’s also
selfish. He himself wants the holiday with Gyuvin!

“You don’t understand,” Gyuvin says with a sigh, but he’s not budging.

“Clearly,” Ricky retorts, slamming his bag down on the table with a bit more force than
necessary. He knows Gyuvin will pick up on it, because he picks up on everything Ricky
does. Apparently not this one thing though.

“Whoa there,” Gunwook says, his eyes darting between the two of them. “Let’s take a deep
breath…” That also makes Ricky feel guilty. He knows him and Gyuvin bicker a lot and
often Gunwook has to mediate. But it’s not just his fault, Gyuvin loves driving Ricky up the
wall, rejoices in it, and Ricky has a short fuse when it comes to him.

“I have my pride too,” Gyuvin informs him, slamming his textbook down on the table harder
as well.

Ricky is about to tell Gyuvin where he can stuff that pride when Gunwook finally intervenes.

“OK,” Gunwook commands with gentle authority. “I have the solution to all your problems.”

“The man, the myth, the legend,” Gyuvin says sarcastically. But he’s listening intently, chin
resting on his hand.

“What if you two could earn a free holiday together?” Gunwook declares grandly. He pushes
his glasses up his nose and Ricky swears they flash like he’s an evil anime mastermind
villain.

“And how would we do that?”

Gunwook holds up a finger. He’s completely in character.

“One moment please.”

They both wait as Gunwook logs in and opens his browser, before presenting the page to
them.

“What’s the Best Couple Contest got to do with us?” Ricky says in confusion. A few seconds
of silence creep by.

“You think we can win the prize?” Gyuvin scoffs. “I think you’re forgetting one very
important thing here. We’re not a couple.”

“Who said you have to be a couple?” Gunwook whispers conspiratorially, beckoning them to
lean their heads in closer, to hear his egregious conspiracy. “They only have to think you’re
one.”

He stands up and walks over to the whiteboard in the study room, and uncaps one of the
whiteboard pens. Gunwook writes ‘The Plan’ at the top and underlines it.

1. Enter the contest

2. Win first prize
3. Free holiday!

Gunwook’s finally lost his marbles. Ricky and Gyuvin’s constant shenanigans must have
broken him. Ricky feels bad. He’ll pay for Gunwook’s therapy.

“Dude, in the nicest way possible, you’re fucking crazy.” Gyuvin says.

“I second that,” Ricky follows up with. At least they’re united on one thing.

Gunwook shakes his head.

“There are three motives we fulfil with this plan,” he says, drawing two arrows on the board.
“The first: Gyuvin wants a holiday. Secondly, Ricky wants to go on holiday with Gyuvin.
The third one is also for Ricky. You find Zhang Hao and Hanbin gross. And who’s going to
be entering the contest this year?”

At that, Ricky has to laugh. He proceeds to do so, till tears gather at the corners of his eyes.

“You think Gyuvin and I can beat the Supreme Gay Overlord and Homotron 5000 in a Best
Couple Contest?”

Gyuvin lets out a snort of laughter.

“It won’t be easy, I admit,” Gunwook says incredibly seriously, not even cracking a smile.
“But you’re forgetting that you have me. Top of the year law student, top three in national
debate competitions, genius extraordinaire. I never said we’re going to play by the rules.”

Now he laughs, chest-rumbling and throaty.

“Mwahahaha!” Gunwook pauses and sucks in a deep breath.

“MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Ricky decides to let the poor guy have his moment. Yeah, Gunwook has officially lost it.

“But don’t you want to come on holiday with us?” Gyuvin says. Gunwook has lost it and
Gyuvin is lost. Good one, Ricky thinks to himself.

“I am…” Gunwook trails off and clears his throat. “I already have plans. For some amazing
cool thing that you will find out in due course.” It sounds like total bullshit but Ricky also
can’t put it past him.

Ricky thinks it through. Yes, it would be one way to get Gyuvin to go on holiday with him.
Last time, Zhang Hao and Hanbin had gone to Paris and had a great time.

But pretending to be a couple with Gyuvin? He winces. That sounds awful. They argue, like,
all the time. Who would buy it?

“Isn’t this contest about popularity?” Ricky points out. “No one’s going to vote for us.”

Gunwook clucks his tongue.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Gyuvin gestures for him to explain further. “You guys will
have a totally different dynamic from Hanbin-hyung and Hao-hyung, who will undoubtedly
be your main rivals. I know you’re thinking about how you argue. People like that. They
think it’s cute. It gives married energy. And Ricky, you’re kind of famous on campus. You
know that, right? We can use that to our advantage.”

Gunwook also lets out a cackle.

“I also have my connections. We won’t be going into this contest blind. I’ll gather
information, coach you to how to behave.”

OK, he’s doing a pretty good job at convincing Ricky. But it’s still a lot to take in. He needs
to think about it. Is this even ethical? They’re hijacking the contest with their own nefarious
motives. They would be lying to everyone except Gunwook.

Oh.

They would have to convince not only all the people watching the contest but all their family
and friends that they were dating too. Ricky’s stomach squirms. They would need to keep this
act up for the whole contest! Who would believe they suddenly began dating, with the contest
just around the corner?
The other issue was…Ricky is a man of many strengths, but acting isn’t one of them. He is
an abysmal actor. He couldn’t act for toffee. He couldn’t act himself out of a paper bag. How
could he look at Gyuvin and pretend he’s his boyfriend with a straight face, without breaking
character?

A thousand thoughts begin to swirl in his head. No, he can’t just agree so easily. He needs to
think this through.

“I’m in,” Gyuvin says next to him. “Let’s do this.”

“The fuck?” Ricky stares at him, incredulous. “B-but this isn’t right! This isn’t ethical! We’d
be lying to win a huge prize!”

“Dude,” Gyuvin says, rolling his eyes. “All reality shows are rigged. It’s like Gunwook said,
a popularity contest. Beside, I’m pretty sure if no one intervenes, Hanbin-hyung and Hao-
hyung will win by a landslide. We can prove we’re a better couple. They already got the prize
this year. I thought you wanted to go on holiday with me?”

Hey now. It sounds like Gyuvin is guilt-tripping him. Of course Ricky does, but he has
worries. Many of them.

“I’m prepared to go all in,” Gyuvin says seriously. “You’re right to question it though, you’ve
always been a good person like that. Me? I’m a little selfish when it comes to what I want.”

Ricky’s resolve is crumbling.

“Gunwook, what’s in it for you?” he asks desperately, looking for a handhold out of this
conversation.

“The most fun I’ll ever have in my life,” shrugs Gunwook. “A test of my abilities. I have a
masterplan.” Of course he does.

“You’re not worried about having to act like a couple with me?” Ricky tries, almost pleading.
He looks around and thinks they’ve all gone crazy. Why are his two best friends both going
along with this so casually? “You’re not going to be grossed out?”

Gyuvin does a double take.

“Grossed out? Have you seen yourself? You’re literally the hottest person on campus.
Anyone would be lucky to date you.” Gyuvin says without a trace of embarrassment or
sarcasm. “Anyway, I’m a great actor.”

Ah. Ricky’s mouth feels a little dry, full of cotton wool after Gyuvin says that.

“But would everyone else around us believe we’re a couple?” It’s Ricky’s final attempt at
questioning what they’re doing. If either of the two can somehow defeat this point, then
Ricky will give in. He’ll do it. He just needs all bases covered, so he’s going into this with no
doubts and an unwavering conviction. “I’ll have to tell my mum…Zhang Hao…we’ll have to
tell Yujin!”
Gunwook sniggers.

“Why don’t you try finding out?” he says, gesturing at their phones.

Ricky can’t believe what they’re doing. Him and Gyuvin are taking a picture together, of
them holding hands at the table. A post for his Instagram.

Ricky’s hands are shaking as he types the caption.

Study date, he puts, and a soft launch.

He posts it without tagging Gyuvin and waits with bated breath as the load button spins
around, until the post finally uploads.

They put the issue to one side and begin studying. Ricky can’t really focus, not when he’s
terrified of what he’s started and around one hour later, he checks his phone.

God, there are hundreds of likes.

He looks through the comments, Gyuvin looking over his shoulder.

seokmattchu THIS BETTER BE WHO I THINK IT IS @the_gyuvinster

taeraeri_ya @the_gyuvinster this you???

j1woo_woo_woongie @the_gyuvinster finally…

mother_hambin1x2 @the_gyuvinster YOU KEPT THIS FROM HYUNG?

na_dubu … @the_gyuvinster

k.ei.ta3vnn3 i think I know who this is… @the_gyuvinster

junhyeon_is_5 @the_gyuvinster WHAT THE HELL BRO

And a comment left ten seconds ago. Ricky gulps.

xx_jjanguri1x2 @shen_ricky QUANRUI?? CALL ME.

“Why the hell is everyone tagging me?” Gyuvin mumbles, looking mystified. Ricky is too.
Gyuvin’s face wasn’t even in the picture. Either everyone knew what his hands looked like
or…or the idea of them dating was actually believable!?

His phone began ringing – Zhang Hao was calling him on WeChat.

“Answer it!” hissed Gunwook, already looking massively pleased.

“SHEN QUANRUI!” Zhang Hao screamed from the phone, so loudly both Gyuvin and
Gunwook could easily hear him. The rest was in Chinese though, so Ricky didn’t need to
worry about them overhearing. “Why didn’t you tell me? Am I not the best ge in your life?”

“My only ge,” Ricky reassures him, his heart racing a thousand miles a minute. “We…we
only made if official literally now.”

Under the table, he feels Gyuvin link their fingers together and feels a bit calmer. He can do
this. He’s Shen fucking Ricky. Gyuvin is his boyfriend. That’s all Zhang Hao needs to know.

“Is he next to you?” Zhang Hao demands, “Let me talk to him too!”

“Um, he wants to talk to you as well,” Ricky says dumbly, putting it on speaker. He passes
his phone to Gyuvin.

“Hey, Hao-hyung?” Gyuvin says cautiously, holding it arm’s length away lest Zhang Hao
starts hollering again.

“ABOUT TIME, YOU STUPID IDIOTS! I ALWAYS KNEW YOU TWO WOULD GET
TOGETHER. BUT YOU’RE BOTH SO DUMB I HAD MY DOUBTS! HYUNG IS
ALWAYS RIGHT IN THE END! HAH!”

Ricky has no idea what Zhang Hao’s talking about.

“GYUVIN, IF YOU HURT RICKY, I WILL KILL YOU. AND RICKY, SAME TO YOU.
HURT GYUVIN AND I’LL KILL YOU TOO. I’LL KILL BOTH OF YOU.”

His voice is so loud the phone screeches with grating static with every word. All three of
them are wincing.

“Hao, why are you shouting?” Oh god, it’s Hanbin. There’s some incoherent muttering across
the line.

“You’re on the phone with Ricky?” Hanbin cries, sounding delighted.

“CONGRATULATONS YOU TWO!” He bellows just as loud.

“Gyuvin! Hyung is so proud of you for figuring out your feelings!” Gyuvin shrugs at Ricky,
who shrugs back.

The call goes on for a bit, Hanbin also threatens both of them then it ends.

The two of them sit back, stunned into silence.

“So, what you say?” Gunwook says, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “We’ve already
laid down the foundations.”

The application forms sits open on his laptop.

“Alright,” says Ricky wearily, thoroughly beaten into submission. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter End Notes

i hope yall enjoyed. sorry i just find the name 'fat hambin' absolutely ADORABLE.

also, gunwook is really having his villain moment. he will be integral to the progression
of this fic. ricky and gyuvin are essentially dumb-and-dumber when it comes to their
feelings.

and yes! haobin have 1x2 in their instagram usernames as a subtle couple reference
(think boysplanet)! they are truly sickening!

lmk how yall found it!

 Ricky Does Not Bring All The Drama-ma-ma-ma
Chapter Summary

The Best Couple Contest starts...

Chapter Notes

i did not realise it's already been a month since chapter two, MY BAD. i published a
mattrae secret santa fic in the meantime if you're interested.

wrote this in one go so watch out for mistakes but it was very fun.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

There are two chapters to Ricky’s university life now. Pre-fake-dating-Gyuvin and Post-fake-
dating-Gyuvin.

Everything changes after that single fateful Instagram post.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Gunwook says, ever the voice of reason. “It’ll blow over once
people get used to the idea.”

Ricky’s not sure if getting used to it is the core issue. People don’t seem to be shocked that
he’s dating Gyuvin, they just seem kinda shocked that it wasn’t official till now. It makes him
question exactly what kind of vibes him and Gyuvin were giving out.

From Ricky’s point of view, him and Gyuvin are best friends. Of course they’re gonna seem
close. Gunwook is his best friend too, but in a different way that Ricky doesn’t have the
words to explain.

“It’s you and me, and your friend Steve,” Gunwook chips in again to say. “I’m Steve.”

Unfortunately, Ricky isn’t chronically online enough to know what obscure reference
Gunwook is trying to make. There are just differences in how they are best friends, it’s that
simple. Ricky lets Gunwook get away with pointing things out that he would’ve beat
Gyuvin’s ass for. He tolerates Gyuvin’s urge to treat all his friends like giant teddy bears,
although Ricky has limits and Gunwook doesn’t mind it as much. The three of them are best
friends and they work together just fine.

There are some things that Gyuvin does though, that Ricky absolutely can’t imagine Gyuvin
would do with anyone else except him. And now that he thinks about it, Ricky doesn’t know
how it’d make him feel if Gyuvin was doing it with anyone else. Calling him ‘Kim Ricky’
and of course, their matching rings. Gyuvin’s not allowed to have a matching ring with
anyone else. Until he decides to get into a serious relationship and get married. Then Ricky
suppose he’ll have to permit it.

He wonders if Gyuvin will surprise his other friends and jump on top of them, grabbing them
by the neck and whispering I-love-you into their ears over and over again till the faceless
friend in question relents and says it back. Did Gyuvin ever do that with Gunwook?

Gunwook makes a gagging noise next to him.

“If Gyuvin ever tried that with me, you wouldn’t hear from him again,” Gunwook looks
faintly green at the idea.

Well, Gyuvin can’t do that with anyone now, anyway. Because they’re ‘dating’. All their
friends know and that means none of them can fool around with anyone else. Especially as
both their families have given their blessings for Ricky and Gyuvin’s relationship. His mum
had asked when the wedding was, much to Ricky’s embarrassment.

Ricky and Gyuvin had talked about it at length, both of them astonished by the response of
their families. Maybe his mum’s just glad he’s in a committed relationship.

“My mum just laughed at me; can you believe it?” Gyuvin said incredulously to him. “And
told me that it was a shame there wouldn’t be any grandkids!”

“That means your mum really likes me.” Ricky had said, trying to be optimistic. “And that
we seem really close. Our friendship is next level.”

“That’s obvious,” Gyuvin said. “I’m just confused why my family think marriage is next. I’m
not even twenty yet, for god’s sake.”

“My family do too,” Ricky admitted and they’d both groaned.

That had been yesterday.

Today the pair of them had been tasked by Gunwook to brainstorm a backstory and to
practice ‘acting like a couple’ while Gunwook went to supervise the debate society’s practice
session.

“I want you to really sell it to me when I’m back home,” he’d commanded firmly like the
overenthusiastic drama teacher Ricky had detested back in middle school. “It’s one thing to
announce it on social media but another thing for it to be seen in person, by people you
know.”

Gunwook had given Ricky an especially stern look and taken him to one side of the room.
Ricky could smell the pep talk coming.

“You’re a horrible actor,” Gunwook said, placing his hands gently on Ricky’s shoulders.
“You need to accept that and get over it.”
Ricky takes great offense to that. It's one thing for Ricky to admit to himself he's a bad actor.
It's entirely another for Gunwook to call him one. He’s an excellent actor in fact, because
everyone on campus finds him so cool and charming, an act that he puts effort into
maintaining. Ricky likes to give off that image and look good, but in reality he knows he’s
just some guy and sometimes he can be a little silly.

“Having a resting bitch face is not acting,” Gunwook stresses, shaking him a little.
Gunwook’s extraordinarily strong, Ricky has never set foot in a gym and he flaps around like
a leaf clinging to a branch in the autumn wind. “And that’s not the same. Remember in high
school when we had drama? Do you remember your marks?”

Ricky remembers them, the one stain on his school record. He’d passed Art with flying
colours and gotten by with average grades in everything else, except for Drama.

“That was only because the teacher hated me,” Ricky argues back. “He was always giving me
bad advice.” It had nothing to do with his acting ability. Ricky knows he could easily make it
as an actor with a face like his.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Gunwook rolls his eyes. “I’m going to give you one tip on
making your relationship with Gyuvin seem believable.”

“Go on then,” Ricky scoffs, waiting for his pearls of wisdom. Gunwook’s acting is hardly
worth an Oscar nomination either. He’s been reusing the same villain laugh for comedic
value for years.

“Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the fact you’re acting. Don’t try to be natural.”
Gunwook says. “Just don’t try! The more you try the worse your acting gets!”

Ricky sneers at him. It’s very similar to what his Drama teacher used to say.

Gunwook leaves with a cheery wave and a ‘toodle-oo’.

Gyuvin makes himself a coffee and then they sit down for their brainstorming session.

Ricky’s now worrying that he’s going to try too hard to not try. Head blank, he thinks to
himself, head empty.

Gyuvin jabs the checklist that Gunwook had left them for moments that viewers of the show
would want to know about.

1. How you got together

2. The first kiss
3. First date

Frankly, Ricky could think of a thousand more things that he and Gyuvin needed to rehearse
and discuss but he supposed they wouldn’t be able to remember it all anyway. These were
apparently the main things they couldn’t slip up on. He trusts that Gunwook knows what he’s
doing.
“How should we have got together then?” Gyuvin says, stretching his arms to their fullest
extent with a groan. “Should we just keep it real? We were friends then we just realised we
liked each other.”

“That’s so boring though,” complains Ricky. “We need something that’ll beat Zhang Hao and
Hanbin-hyung’s getting-together story.”

“Their story’s pretty clichéd too,” Gyuvin retorts and Ricky has to admit he’s right about that.
It had just been a love-at-first-sight thing for them, Hanbin watching Zhang Hao play violin
and Zhang Hao watching Hanbin’s dance performance at a society showcase. “They just play
up the whole thing about them being soulmates.”

“That’s true and we need something that would convince them,” Ricky muses. Gunwook had
said to keep it natural. “Let’s focus on the friends-to-lovers angle then. It’d be even better if
we can use something that actually happened because we won’t seem like we’re lying as
much.”

He thinks about which occasions he had really appreciated having Gyuvin as his best friend.
What would be a moment he could frame as romantic? Huh, there’s a lot now he really thinks
about it.

When Ricky had fallen asleep in the library and had woken up with his coat pulled over him
as a blanket, courtesy of Gyuvin. When a car had splashed through a muddy puddle on the
road and Gyuvin had pulled Ricky to his side to stop him getting dirty. That time Gyuvin
snuck into his bed and he’d hugged Ricky in his sleep. That one had actually made Ricky’s
heart flutter a little. Gyuvin’s future partner was going to be really lucky.

“It has to be something less than a few weeks ago,” Ricky realises. “The timeline needs to
match up with us making it official on Instagram.”

Next to him, Gyuvin also looks deep in thought.

“I have an idea!” he says, looking proud. “When Yujin broke his wrist!”

“Wow! Well done!” Ricky says, clapping sarcastically. “So romantic.”

“No, hear me out first!” Gyuvin crosses his arms. “When Yujin hurt himself, I was just
panicking and running around like a headless chicken. I mean, you were panicking too but
you kept it together better than me. You felt so reliable, and your presence really grounded
me.”

This is the first time Ricky’s heard anything about it. He remembers Gyuvin freaking out,
holding Ricky’s hand in a white-knuckled vice-grip, annoying him to no end with his endless
speculations. It’s rare for Gyuvin to voluntarily admit he thinks Ricky’s cool so he pays extra
attention to his words, basking in the praise.

“I thought to myself, wow, I really do depend on Ricky and he’s always here for me when I
need him. And then I realised I always want to be there for you too, as someone you can
show every side of yourself to comfortably. I want to hold onto your hand forever,” Gyuvin
continues with his story. He’s a naturally excellent speaker and what he says is surprisingly
believable. Ricky feels himself soften too, wanting to hear how Gyuvin’s going to spin this
into how they get together. And he wonders if Gyuvin really feels this way about him.

Not that he’d ever admit it to Gyuvin, but Ricky feels the same way. He depends on Gyuvin
too and he trusts implicitly that Gyuvin will always have his back. Him and Gyuvin are just
such good friends that Gyuvin can pick on Ricky’s feelings easily and it’s difficult to hide
things from him.

“So after that, I realised that wanting to be with you forever goes beyond friendship,” Gyuvin
says. Ricky’s heart starts to beat faster at his words. “That it’s not normal to always want to
hold hands with you, to hug you and that I wanted more than that. I wanted to kiss you too.”

His cheeks flame at Gyuvin’s words. It’s so believable that even Ricky is falling for it.
Unconsciously, he brushes a knuckle over his lips, watching Gyuvin’s gaze follow the
movement of his hand.

“That’s when I realised my feelings and confessed to you. You had always had feelings for
me but had never said anything and then we got together!” Gyuvin finishes. “How’s that? I
think everyone would buy that.”

“Yeah,” Ricky swallows hard, shaking away whatever trance he’d fallen into earlier. “Let’s
go with that.” Normally, he would protest at being the one who falls first, wanting to insist
that he would charm Gyuvin first. However, it fits his personality. Ricky’s definitely the type
who would keep his feelings to himself if he thought a confession would be futile. But who
knows? If Ricky was in love with Gyuvin, he might even tell him. Gyuvin’s so understanding
that he probably would have stayed friends with Ricky even if his feelings were unrequited.

They fall into silence again, thinking about a first kiss.

“Wouldn’t it make sense if we kissed when we confessed?” Ricky suggests. “We can just say
that you confessed to me, I confessed then we kissed.”

“Don’t we need more details? Like, who initiated it.”

“I would,” Ricky says instantly. “Think about it. According to your story, I’ve liked you since
we’ve met. Wouldn’t I be so overcome with happiness that you return my feelings?”

It makes the most sense that Gyuvin would probably confess to Ricky in either of their
bedrooms. Somewhere at home, like they are now.

“I’d say that I’ve always liked you,” Ricky imagines, the scenario playing in his mind. “Then
I’d lean in, like this.”

He sits closer to Gyuvin on the sofa, tipping his upper body forwards till they’re face-to-face.

“Then I’d do this,” Ricky finds himself cupping Gyuvin’s cheeks with both hands. They’re
smooth and warm, getting hotter under his touch as a blush spreads steadily over Gyuvin’s
face. Even the tip of his nose gets pink, like he’s been standing outside in the cold. “And I’d
ask. Can I kiss you?”

Gyuvin breathes out his mouth and Ricky feels the warm air fan over his own face.

“Yeah, you can. Please do,” Gyuvin whispers. “Um, that’s what I’d say, I mean.” Ricky finds
himself feeling lightheaded. Gunwook was totally wrong about him. Ricky is a good actor.
This feels as natural as breathing. Although he does feel weird, but that’s just because this
isn’t something you do with your friends.

He presses his forehead closer to Gyuvin’s, till the tips of their noses brush.

“I’d say, can I really kiss you?” Ricky repeats, his own voice barely more than a ghost of a
whisper. “It still doesn’t seem real-” Gyuvin cuts him off, pressing his lips to Ricky’s.

It’s warm and dry and doesn’t last over a second before him and Ricky both pull away in
shock. Ricky stares down at his lap, biting his lip. This feels weird. It feels really weird, but it
also doesn’t feel wrong. It’s still weird to kiss his best friend, even if that barely passes the
minimum requirements of what defines a kiss.

Gyuvin also looks a little dazed but recovers quickly.

“You’d try to initiate but I’d lean in and actually do the kiss first,” Gyuvin says with a smirk,
looking pleased with himself. “I bet you weren’t expecting that.”

No, Ricky hadn’t. It’s whatever. People kiss without there being anything behind it all the
time. He’s done it too, for truth-and-dare and back when he was experimenting and figuring
out his sexuality. Just practice.

“We’d probably need to kiss at some point in the show,” Ricky says slowly. “It’s good if we
get it out the way now so we don’t feel awkward if we have to get close later on.” That’s the
other thing he was concerned about. Ricky’s not that tolerable of skinship and often bats
Gyuvin away. He’s going to need to get used to putting up with it.

“We should hold hands more too,” Ricky says, reaching out to entwine his fingers with
Gyuvin’s. “And just touch each other casually.”

“Yeah, I guess we can do it more,” Gyuvin says. “Just don’t make it weird.”

“How would it be weird?” Ricky says. “We already do it quite a lot. You do a lot of skinship
with your friends anyway.”

“Yeah but,” Gyuvin looks away. “I’m just not that used to you initiating it.” His voice sounds
tight for some reason.

“You’ve got to get used to it then,” Ricky says and detaches his hand from Gyuvin’s grip,
putting his arm around Gyuvin’s shoulder instead, tugging him closer in. “I’ll do it more, so
you won’t feel weird about it.”

Practice makes perfect, after all. Ricky will keep doing it till it feels natural between them.
Gunwook is satisfied with their backstory. He sends them on a few mission dates for them to
get used to being seen in public together as a couple, not just Gyuvin-and-Ricky. Ricky’s
surprised at how easy it is. Him and Gyuvin just act as they usually do, except they hold
hands almost all the time. Each time they go out somewhere, Ricky makes sure to post it on
social media too, getting his and Gyuvin’s rings in the photo too. He doesn’t shrug off
Gyuvin’s arm around his waist and shoulders or when Gyuvin hugs him from behind when
they’re shopping for jeans. Everyone eats it up and it becomes normal to accept they’re a
thing and people thankfully stop making a huge deal out of it. They basically go back to how
they usually are, with a few exceptions.

The day of the first audition arrives faster than Ricky had expected. It also starts very early on
a Saturday morning. He has to haul Gyuvin out of bed at six o’clock in the morning, because
they need to arrive there by seven. Ricky was already up by five, having done his hair and
makeup meticulously,

He also helps style Gyuvin’s hair but leaves it at that. The instructions had asked them to
come in comfortable clothing and shoes. Gunwook had also warned them that it was likely to
be something sporty. That wasn’t really hard to figure out, Ricky thinks, given that the
location was the sports centre.

Gunwook is still snoring away in bed, the lucky bastard. Only the couples are permitted to
attend the initial round to increase the number of people who actually watch the episode on
YouTube when it’s aired.

“Don’t worry about this one,” Gunwook told them the night before. “You’ll clear it no
problem.”

When they arrive at sports centre ten minutes early, there’s already a line snaking around the
building, composed of couples. The show had been popular last year so it only makes sense
that there are even more contestants than before. The organisers check their names off the list
and give them stickers with the number 64 scribbled on in thick Sharpie, telling them they’ll
be in soon.

It starts to make sense why they’ve been called in so early. The contest is huge and there are
multiple people filming them, even outside.

Ricky links hands with Gyuvin’s at the exact moment the cameras pan to them and then to his
surprise, Gyuvin frowns at him.

“We don’t need to ham it up for the cameras,” he says. “Let’s just be ourselves. Or we’ll end
up looking like try-hards. Like whoever’s over there.”

“My hands are cold,” Ricky lies, grabbing Gyuvin’s hand again. Of course he wouldn’t do it
just for the cameras. Sue him if he wanted to hold Gyuvin’s hand. Was he not allowed to do
that whenever he wanted. “And yeah, why are they sucking face at eight in the morning?”

It’s a couple a few spaces in front of them, both in hoodies. The hoods cover most of the
obscenity but it’s very clear what they’re doing.

Finally, people start yelling from the building entrance and the massive line begins to move.
The hoodie couple are forced to break apart.

“Dude, that’s Seunghan and Sohee!” Gyuvin whispers to Ricky. “We played basketball with
them once! When the heck did they become a thing?”

Ricky remembers them vaguely but not enough to care.

He scans the other couples now, trying to see if there’s anyone else he recognises. There’s
two girls in the front, both scrolling on their phones. Ricky does know them, they’re both on
his course.

“There’s Minjeong and Jimin from my course,” he tells Gyuvin who nods in
acknowledgement. Ricky had known they were dating, of course but he’s still a little
surprised to see them here. There’s actually a lot of people he recognises in his year.

The line stops moving again but there’s still dozens of people ahead of them. Ricky checks
his watch and it’s already been an hour.

“I want food,” Gyuvin whines in his ear. “I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

Ricky ends up ordering a bagel for him and it gets delivered straight to them in line at the
building, along with bubble tea for himself.

“This early?” Gyuvin says, raising an eyebrow but he’s easily distracted by the runny yolk in
his egg and avocado bagel.

They make it through the door forty-eight minutes later and are led through the corridor to
the sports hall. Ricky discovers the reason for the hold-up, everyone is being given name tags
and coloured bibs, being put in groups for something.

“HELLO!” bellows a girl into a loudspeaker, silencing all the chatter in the room
immediately. She’s tiny, her pigtails only making her look even smaller. “Welcome to our
annual Best Couple Contest! I’m Yeri and I’ll be the MC for this year!”

There’s a polite smattering of applause as the crowd takes her in. There are cameras set up all
over the hall too, proper filming cameras on tripods. There’s serious budget here. Or more
likely, the Film and Broadcasting Society are involved.

“We’re very pleased to announce we have over one hundred couples who signed up!” booms
another voice and this time a boy joins Yeri on the small makeshift platform. There’s a bigger
gasp this time as people realise it’s Boo Seungkwan, an extremely popular Youtuber.

“I’m Boo Seungkwan, also known as JejuBoo on Youtube and I’ll be your second MC. It’s an
honour to join the contest, I had great fun watching it last year!”
The two MCs explain the first challenge, a three-legged race. That explains why their groups
seemed to have been sorted by gender. All the people in their group are men and then there’s
a group of women and a third group of mixed-gender couples.

“Each group will have a three-legged race that lasts 100m,” Yeri explains. “Only the top
twenty from each group will make it to the next round. It doesn’t matter if you’re athletic or
not, this is a test of teamwork!”

“Sorry to those of you who have a major height difference as well,” Seungkwan laughs. “But
let’s keep in mind that there’s a limit to how objectively we can measure the best couple and
right now what we need to do is cut the numbers down as much as we can!”

Ricky and Gyuvin glance at each other with a smirk. This is going to be easy.

“Let’s aim for first place,” Ricky says, reaching out to fist bump Gyuvin.

“We’re getting into the second round easy-peasy,” Gyuvin agrees.

The team starts to get the first group ready, passing out the ankle ties. There’s also some
drinks and refreshments at the side for the waiting couples. Ricky’s bubble tea is empty and
Gyuvin strolls off to get them some more snacks.

“Oh, look who we have here?” says someone villainously from behind Ricky and he bristles
instantly.

“Hanbin-hyung,” Ricky says without turning round. If he’s here, then so is Zhang Hao.
“Zhang Hao.”

“Who are you here with then, sitting all alone?” Zhang Hao says devilishly, sitting down
cross-legged next to Ricky. A few people shuffle back to make room for the star couple, such
is their celebrity status. Some even take out their phones to snap a photo. “I didn’t expect you
to enter something like this.”

“Unfortunately, I have, and I’m going to win and beat you,” Ricky says sassily. “Starting with
this race.”

“You actually might rank ahead of us here,” Zhang Hao admits easily, not taking the bait.
“Athletic things aren’t my forte.”

“I’m going to be hard-carrying Hao-hyung here,” Hanbin says and the pair exchange a
sickeningly lovey-dovey gaze. “We’ll take the crown for sure, though.”

“Not with me and Ricky here,” Gyuvin says, having made his way back to them. He passes
Ricky a cupcake and some juice. “Hyung, I love you but you need to make way for your
juniors.”

Hanbin gasps in mock shock, hands flying to his mouth.

“Wow, my Gyuvin has really grown up!” He says, cheeks dimpling. “He’s got a boyfriend
and he’s threatening to surpass me!”
The time passes as they talk and soon enough, Ricky and Gyuvin are standing at the start
line, ankles bound together. They’d already discussed their tactics beforehand, Gyuvin would
call out the steps and Ricky would listen. They’d win, easy-peasy. They have an advantage
height-wise and their stride length is bigger than average.

“May the best couple win!” Yeri hollers and counts down from three.

The whistle blows and the race begins.

“Right!” Gyuvin says and it goes wrong immediately. Ricky automatically takes step forward
with his right foot, the one that’s tied to Gyuvin while Gyuvin steps forward with his own
separate right foot.

Gyuvin stumbles, almost tripping over as Ricky grabs onto him. Zhang Hao and Hanbin are
already ahead of them. As are most of the couples, leaving them already halfway behind
everyone else.

“What the hell, Gyuvin!” Ricky snaps. “This is too confusing!” It’s partly his fault too for not
agreeing on words to use beforehand.

“Sorry!” Gyuvin says. He puts an arm around Ricky’s waist bringing them closer together so
they’re more balanced. “Uh, together!”

Ricky assumes he means their joined legs but it’s still confusing. Of course, they’re doing it
together.

“For fuck’s sake!” Ricky scraps their previous tactic and just starts sprinting full pelt towards
the finish line, dragging Gyuvin along with him. Gyuvin can keep up with him, he’s taller.
It’s his fault they’re behind too.

“AHH!” Gyuvin bellows, caught by surprise. “This wasn’t our plan!” He shouts it so loudly
that there’s a burst of laughter from the people watching at his volume.

Although he’s protesting, they’re actually in sync now, matching their stride length and
rhythm. In no time, they’re almost at the front again. Ricky focuses on running while Gyuvin
just keeps yelling in protest.

“Kim Ricky! I hate you!” Gyuvin protests. Each jab only annoys Ricky more and he speeds
up, hoping Gyuvin will trip. He’s entirely forgotten the competition and is fuelled purely by
the urge to make Gyuvin suffer. “I’m going to fucking break my ankle!”

Ricky just keeps going, one foot in front of another, everything else a blur in his peripheral
vision. He clutches at Gyuvin’s waist till his nails are digging in and ignores Gyuvin. Part of
him wants Gyuvin to trip but really, he knows Gyuvin is more than capable of keeping up
with him. They don’t need to talk, Gyuvin should just be able to read his intentions by
instinct alone.

“I don’t want a cast like Yujin!” is what Gyuvin shouts as they race past the finish line, the
ribbon fluttering to the groudn. Ricky halts immediately and Gyuvin actually does trip for
real, having not quite halted his momentum.

“They had a rocky start but somehow overcame it all!” Seungkwan announces to the cheering
crowd. “In first place from the orange group, we have Kim Gyuvin and…um…Kim Ricky?”

He clears his throat as Yeri nudges him.

“My mistake, Shen Ricky. Although if I’m not mistaken, we all heard Gyuvin refer to him as
Kim Ricky during the race, didn’t we?”

Ricky isn’t listening, blood is pounding so hard in his ears that he can’t hear. He hasn’t run
seriously in years. Decades even. His heart is beating so fast he might go into cardiac arrest.
And Ricky is sweating profusely, like he’s in the Sahara.

A chilled water bottle is pressed to his face while he’s double over and panting.

“Our teamwork is horrible,” Gyuvin says as Ricky straightens up and takes the water bottle
from him, unscrewing the cap and frantically gulping it down. “I’m never doing this again
with you.”

“We would’ve-” Ricky takes a pause to swig some more water. “Lost if it wasn’t for me,
idiot.”

“I had it all figured out!” Gyuvin insists. “You just took off like a maniac and I nearly died!”

Neither of them realise that the entire sports hall has gone quiet to listen to their argument,
even the MCs are watching them.

“My risk was calculated,” Ricky says. “It paid off.”

“But you suck at maths!”

“You said four times eight was thirty-five once!”

“You thought the Pythagoras theorem was about snakes!”

“Well, Gyuvin, remember how you thought that ‘fortnight’ was just a game, not an actual
measure of time!”

“It’s an honest mistake! And you said you wouldn’t make fun of me for that again! What
about when you-”

“I knew you would be able to keep up with me,” Ricky confesses, bringing their rapid-fire
exchange to a halt. Also, he was suddenly aware of the silence around them and he didn’t
need Gyuvin to embarrass him publicly (despite him already doing it to Gyuvin). “I had faith
in your ability to read my movements.”

He steps closer to Gyuvin and maybe this time, he does play it up for the cameras. But it’s
not a lie.
“I did it because I trust you, Gyuvin.”

“Whatever!” Gyuvin pouts, but he looks undeniably pleased by Ricky’s admission. “We won
because of my superior athletic skills then.”

Ricky is about to argue but he bites his tongue for once and puts a sweaty arm around
Gyuvin, sorely tempted to wave at the people watching them.

“Well, uh, getting back on track, can we have the third group, please?” Yeri asks, finally
drawing attention away from them.

Zhang Hao and Hanbin barely scraped an entry into the second round at nineteenth place.
Ricky would have been disappointed if they were to be knocked out so early.

By the time the last race had finished, it was almost five o’clock. The location for the next
round would be revealed in a week and filming would be ironically, in a fortnight.

“You have exceeded my expectations,” Gunwook says in delight, pulling them both into a
hug much to their protests (Ricky’s hair is messy and he needs a shower). “I can’t wait to see
the episode when it airs!”

He lets Gyuvin shower first because he can’t be bothered to move after sitting down on the
sofa. The thrum of water quietens, and the door scrapes open.

“Shower’s free, Ricky.” Gyuvin says, with only a towel tucked around his waist.

Ricky’s all-too used to this sight – Gyuvin always comes out the shower practically naked.
But for some reason, his throat feels dry all of a sudden. God, he must really be dehydrated if
he’s feeling so thirsty. Maybe that’s why his eyes are magnetically attracted to the rivulets of
water running down Gyuvin’s neck, past the divot of his collarbone, the plane of his chest,
his belly button and then being soaked up by that damn towel. Some water would really be
good right now.

“I-I can tell,” he says flatly. “Because you just left the shower. You were in the shower and
now you’re not. So the shower is empty. Because you’re not in it.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Gyuvin says, squinting suspiciously at him. “I know your heart
probably hasn’t gone past one fifty BPM in years, but I don’t think one race should kill you.”

“I’ll kill you,” Ricky responds childishly. and brushed past him to get a glass of water from
the kitchen. He chugs it down but somehow his throat still feels tight, especially when he
looks at Gyuvin.

Maybe I’m coming down with something, Ricky thinks with a sigh as he makes his way to the
shower.
Chapter End Notes

hope you enjoyed. i wasnt gonna make gyubrik kiss yet but it happened. i love my
idiots.

and ofc, gunwook for driving the car

 Strawberries and Cream
Chapter Summary

Ricky doesn't exercise for a reason!

Chapter Notes

ahh i've managed to update this before i hit a month so i'm happy with that!

i hope you enjoy! this totally went off the rails and gyubrik decided to do their own
thing and ignored my plot outline.

also...unedited! it's 1am and i wrote this over 2 evenings.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

As much as everyone kept joking about that three-legged race exhausting Ricky because it
was the first time he’d exercised in years, he really does fall ill.

He wakes up on Sunday and his whole body feels off, head woolly and limbs heavy. Ricky
doesn’t even have the energy to sit up in bed, instead blinking forlornly at the light coming
through his window. Ugh. He wants to die.

He checks his phone and it’s early, barely nine o’clock. Tucking the duvet around himself,
Ricky turns over and dozes off again.

When he wakes up, he feels even worse, his head pounding. The duvet is oppressively hot
and he’s sweating heavily. It feels gross as hell. Ricky wants to shower again, and his
stomach also growls, yet he has no appetite.

There’s the sound of his doorknob turning, and Ricky tilts his head sideways to check who it
is.

Gyuvin looks at him, then frowns. That irks Ricky a little. He know he must look a mess but
he likes to assume it’s in a sexily dishevelled way. If he’s a little flushed with fever, maybe
the natural blush makes him look cute.

“Ricky?”

“Hn.” His mouth is unpleasantly dry too.

Gyuvin walks over to his bed and brushes Ricky’s hair from his forehead with gentle fingers.
Ba-dump. Ricky looks blearily at Gyuvin through crusty eyelids. He’s already dressed and
looks wide awake. There’s an upturned cowlick on his head though.

“You look terrible.” Gyuvin tuts, pressing his hand to Ricky’s forehead. “You’re warm too.”

“You shouldn’t come near me,” Ricky mumbles, batting Gyuvin’s hand away from me.
“Don’t want you to get sick.”

Gyuvin smiles down at him.

“Aw, you’re being so sweet to me, Ricky!” He says, clapping his hands together. “Maybe you
should be ill more often if you’re going to be like this!””

Ricky turns the evil eye on him. Gyuvin, annoyingly, just laughs.

“I’ll get you some water and painkillers. You haven’t eaten yet, either. Do you want to sleep
more?”

Ricky nods in response. It sounds good. He’s ever so warm though. He throws off the duvet
and wriggles out his pyjamas, kicking the bottoms off with his feet and unbuttoning the top
so the cool air hits his exposed chest. Ricky lets out a sigh of relief as he stretches out in his
boxers.

He knows it’s uncharacteristic of him to be so freely exposed but it’s nothing Gyuvin hasn’t
already.

“I’m. Still here…you know” Gyuvin says tightly. “Uh, I’ll go get your water!” He skitters out
the room, bare feet slapping on the floor

Ricky tries to scroll on his phone in the meantime, thumbing through Tiktok but even the
light of his screen irritates his eyes. Ugh, he’d actually had plans for today. He had planned to
go to get the fabrics for his latest designs and meet this kid Zhang Hao had wanted to
introduce him. Ollie, or something?

He croaks an apology to Zhang Hao through voice message to prove he’s genuinely ill and
watches Gyuvin come in, holding a tray.

And because it’s Gyuvin, of course he trips over.

Ricky watches the jug of water go flying towards him, along with the pastries on the plate
like it’s an out-of-body experience.

To be fair, Ricky’s room is permanently in a state of disarray with whatever he’s working on
scattered across the carpet. That doesn’t make the cold water splashing across his body any
less unpleasant though.

Gyuvin had rights himself in time and saves the pastries from an unfortunate death, which
Ricky is very grateful for. There’s nothing worse than flaky pastry crumbled all over the
floor.
Ricky doesn’t even have the energy to dodge. He’s simply soaked, water gluing his fringe
into little spikes that drip into his eyes. His butt’s wet. His crotch is wet. He can’t even rest in
his bed anymore, with his damp sheets and duvet.

Gyuvin waits for Ricky’s outburst, which never comes. Ricky just lets out a deep sigh and if
anything, Gyuvin looks frightened at the fact Ricky isn’t yelling and kicking at him.

“I’m sorry,” Gyuvin says, all sad puppy with droopy ears. “You…you’re not mad?” For some
reason, that makes him mad.

“I’m cold,” Ricky grumbles. “And my bed is wet.”

“You should shower and get warm,” Gyuvin says apologetically, and Ricky suddenly feels
the bed shift under him. He sputters as Gyuvin scoops him up in a princess carry, seemingly
without any effort. He makes the mistake of catching Gyuvin’s eye. Gyuvin smiles down at
him, and Ricky starts coughing, unable to breathe all of a sudden.

What the fuck. This is one motherfucker of a cold.

As Gyuvin traverses the small corridor, Gunwook sees them from the kitchen where he’s
eating lunch. He’s in a blank tank top and probably just got back from the gym. Ricky squints
and sees chicken breast and broccoli on the plate. Oh God. He’s turning into Matthew.

“Are you guys method acting?” Gunwook quips, waving a piece of broccoli on his fork.
“Keep it up!”

“We’re not acting anything!” Gyuvin hisses, elbowing the bathroom door open. “I’m just
helping Ricky! He’s ill!”

He deposits Ricky in the bathroom and averts his eyes. Ah, Ricky had forgot he was still in
his underwear. It doesn’t bother him much, but Gyuvin had always been pretty modest when
it came to seeing others undressed. Which was kind of hypocritical, considering that he
himself regularly paraded around the flat in nothing but a towel. Come to think of it, Gyuvin
didn’t really care when Gunwook walked around in his shorts only. It was only when it came
to-

“Y-you don’t need any help washing yourself, right?” Gyuvin says in a tiny voice. Ricky can
practically see the steam rising from his head.

“I’m not that ill,” Ricky chides him, although he’s already starting feel tired from standing
upright. “You didn’t need to carry me.”

His knees buckle a little and he reflexively grabs onto Gyuvin’s upper arms for support. Of
course Ricky’s body had to betray him and make him look like a fool. He’s shivering too, the
chill of the water separating in.

Ricky tries to step back to get the shower running, only for Gyuvin to grab his arms as well.
Huh. Ricky blinks as a water runs down his hair into his eyes again and suddenly his limbs
feel heavy with the way Gyuvin is looking at him.
It seems like Gyuvin is going to say something and Ricky waits, returning the same intense
gaze with ease.

A few seconds pass and Ricky’s starting to get impatient. He’s gonna get a cold on top of this
cold at this rate. Gyuvin licks his lips, drawing Ricky’s gaze down.

It’s getting weird. And then Gyuvin’s hands run down Ricky’s upper arms, to his elbows,
then to his waist, pulling him closer.

Ricky feels like there’s something stuck in his lungs that he needs to cough up, burning at the
back of his throat but…in an emotional way? Like a cat stuck with a hairball. Gyuvin’s palms
are warm on his cold body and Ricky knows they’re best friends and this is just a fake
relationship, but is it weird if he thinks to himself that Gyuvin looks kinda hot like this,
staring at Ricky like this – his future partner will be so lucky when-

When they both bonk their foreheads together as they lean in, and recoil in pain. But even
with the bright lights of the bathroom flashing in with each throb of pain, their lips find their
way to each other and then Ricky just stop thinking and perceives, moving with instinct.
Warm, soft, hands in his hair, pleasure, heat, wet. His tongue is in Gyuvin’s mouth and his
hands are on Gyuvin’s ass and Gyuvin’s hands are on his chest when Ricky wakes the fuck
up and realises what’s going on.

He shifts backwards, breaking them apart and Gyuvin blinks at him, like he’s just woken up.
Ricky feels like he should be panicking, because this is weird on so many levels, but he’s
calm, despite the rush of blood roaring through his ears.

“I need to shower,” Ricky manages to say, and his stomach drops horribly at Gyuvin’s
swollen lips. Then some panic does actually begin to set in.

“I need to shower, Gyuvin,” he repeats meaningfully. Gyuvin touches a hand to his lips and
then looks back at Ricky, then immediately makes himself scarce.

The water warms up and Ricky is left with to think about what just happened. He steps into
the shower absent-mindedly, water hot enough to scald and gulps.

They’re best friends, pretending to be in a relationship. They’ve kissed for practice before,
but Ricky doesn’t know if this one counts. He doesn’t really know what happened and his
head hurts now, from where they hit their foreheads earlier. Maybe Gyuvin just got too into
the idea that they’re a couple, Ricky as well.

It’s a bit uncomfortable and painful to dwell on it so Ricky just stops trying to analyse it
altogether and hums a song to take his mind off things instead. The imagery does flash
vividly in his mind though and he does wonder exactly what would have happened if Ricky
didn’t stop.

He wraps himself in his towel and remembers his sheets are still wet. Instead, he toddles off
to Gunwook’s room, barging in without a warning. Gunwook is on the phone to someone but
in a rare moment of panic, he cuts the call immediately when he sees Ricky.
“H-hey!” Gunwook says, flustered. “Don’t just come in like that!”

“Can I sleep in your bed?” Ricky says bluntly. He’s ever so sleepy. Ignoring Gunwook, he
just climbs in and lets out a happy sigh as he settles beneath the covers.

“Only because you’re ill,” Gunwook says, tutting at him. “What’s wrong with your own
bed?”

“Gyuvin got it wet,” Ricky says.

“Why not steal his bed instead?”

Ricky glares at Gunwook the best he can.

“Why can’t I steal yours?”

“Damn, okay!” Gunwook gives into him easily with a laugh. “Let me know if I can get you
anything.”

The next day, Gyuvin comes down with a cold too. Ricky has recovered enough that he can
stagger to the kitchen to microwave himself leftovers when he sees Gyuvin about to head out,
with a sniffly red nose, looking worse for wear. His hair looks unbrushed too, sticking up
everywhere. On top of that, Gyuvin appears to have abandoned all fashion sense and is in a
hoodie and jogging bottoms. His socks are odd too, one striped and one black.

“You’re not going to class looking like that,” Ricky croaks at him, his own voice thick and
hoarse with inflammation. “Get back in here now.”

Gyuvin has the decency to look ashamed. He actually cares about his attendance record and
tries hard. Ricky is of the opinion that if the class isn’t useful to him and he has better things
to do, he won’t go. But Gyuvin is a good kid who respects authority.

“I’ll wear a mask,” Gyuvin protests. In response, Ricky presses a hand to his forehead. It’s
burning.

“You have a fever.” Ricky feels extra mum-like crossing his arms while clad in his dressing
gown. “You need to recover, you…”

He searches for an excuse.

“You need to get better in time for the next round of the couple contest.” That sounds good
enough. Gyuvin finally closes the front door and shrugs his backpack off his shoulders,
collapsing on the sofa.
“I’m telling Gunwook too,” Ricky says, whipping out his phone. “So he knows to drag you
home if he sees you on campus.”

Despite not being fully recovered himself, Ricky kicks Gyuvin’s ass into bed, then heads
back to his own room, attempts to do work for about five minutes, then gives up and lays
back down. He sleeps until it’s the afternoon and wakes up feeling like something’s crawled
into his mouth and died.

For the sake of returning the favour, Ricky goes to check in on Gyuvin, bringing him a jug of
water, which he does not spill. Gyuvin’s snoring away, mumbling incoherently in his sleep.
His nose is still pink and daresay, kind of cute.

Ricky finds himself quietly lowering himself onto the bed, just watching Gyuvin sleep like a
total creep. Like he’s Edward from Twilight. Unbidden, his hand reaches out to smooth
Gyuvin’s hair down. He pats Gyuvin’s cheek once then realises he’s smiling. Weird.

When Gunwook gets home, he complains about how he’s now being forced to live with two
biohazards.

“I’m not risking my perfect student record,” Gunwook insists on wearing a mask around
them at all times and makes everyone disinfect every surface they use. “And why is it only
you two? Ricky literally slept in my bed and I’m fine.”

Neither Ricky nor Gyuvin look at each other. Ricky pretends he doesn’t know the reason
why, although he’s pretty sure it’s because oral-oral transmission is a pretty effective route for
transmitting infection. Neither of them bring it up, even as they shuffle around the flat in their
dressing gowns with mugs of hot tea.

Ricky begins to rationalise it eventually. It’s just a thing that happens sometimes. When
Ricky and Gunwook had gotten drunk together one time, Gunwook had gotten sentimental
and kissed him on the cheek. It’s pretty similar. Or that time someone dared Taerae to kiss
Ricky during a game of Spin the Bottle. Everyone kisses each other nowadays.

At the end of the day, they’re just bros who have a bit of a bromance with each other.

By the time of the second round, Gyuvin and Ricky are both in top-tip shape again and ready
to take on any challenge. Well, Ricky still has a bit of a cough and Gyuvin’s still stuffed up
but they’re in reasonable condition.

Despite Gunwook insisting he had an internal source that got him information on what was
happening this round, he still didn’t reveal much to them. During their pre-contest meeting,
he’d told them that it would be easier than round 1, especially as Zhang Hao and Hanbin
would be slightly disadvantaged in this round again.

Except for: “Which one of you is better at baking and decorating cake?”

“Ricky, right?” Gyuvin says. “You’re the one always eating it.”
Ricky shakes his head, even though he’s picking at a strawberry matcha roll cake right this
second.

“I eat cake. That doesn’t mean I make it.” Ricky really should learn to cook but it’s so much
easier to just go on his delivery app instead and get something that’s fresh and doesn’t
include the risk of him blowing up his kitchen. He’s spoiled as a rich kid, he knows, but for
now, there’s no reason why he’d need to bake a cake.

“Just make sure one of you can make a cake and decorate it to a decent standard,” Gunwook
instructs them, in his teacher voice. “And no, don’t look at me. Do you think I bake?”

“You’d look very cute in an apron and chef’s hat,” Gyuvin returns. “Maybe you should.”

“I’m already the brains of this household,” Gunwook retorts. “One of you two should be the
cook.”

“My hands are already full being the young and rich, tall and handsome one,” Ricky rattles
off without any embarrassment as both Gunwook and Gyuvin double over in agony. “Gyuvin
should cook.”

“You do realise cooking is a life skill?” Gyuvin says. “We should all know how to cook.
Especially you, Ricky.”

“Yeah, but we’re talking about baking right now.” Ricky argues back. “I bet I’m a better
baker than you, anyway.”

Gunwook picks up his phone and begins scrolling as Ricky and Gyuvin launch into another
heated debate.

“Prove it then!” Gyuvin says, with a final nasty grin.

Oh, Ricky absolutely will. Just watch him.

“You want to learn to bake?” Jiwoong says suspiciously.

“That’s right, hyung,” Ricky says, in his most adorable maknae voice. He tries to imitate
Yujin’s bug-eyed stare and blinks innocently. “You’re the best cook I know.”

Flour, eggs, butter, sugar, baking powder and vanilla extract sit on the counter. Ricky had
produced it from his canvas shopping bag (for the environment, of course) and announced his
desire to make a cake. He’d come to the realisation that if he asked Jiwoong beforehand, he
would most likely be turned down, because as kind as Jiwoong-hyung was, Ricky was a
terrible cook. He would only confess it under duress, but Gyuvin was far superior to him
when it came to domestic things like cooking and cleaning. A great little househusband. He
nagged enough to be one too.
Ricky kept blinking at Jiwoong and then let out a little pout. It usually worked a treat when
he wanted to get his way. He’d found both Gyuvin and Hanbin were rather weak to it. Hanbin
was just a softie. Evidently, Jiwoong is too and he looks like he’s beginning to crack under
the stare of an earnest dongsaeng.

“Now that’s just creepy,” Matthew remarks, popping into the kitchen. “Knock it off,
Richard.”

Ricky scowls at Matthew, his hold over Jiwoong broken. He was armed to the teeth with cake
ingredients. He’d be damned if he goes home without transforming them into something
more edible.

“Jiwoong-hyung, please?” Ricky pleads, clasping his hands together. “You know I never ask
you for anything.”

“Because you used to find him too sexy and intimidating to be casual with,” Matthew
supplies unhelpfully, brushing off Ricky’s death stare with ease. That’s the trouble with
Matthew. Everything just bounces off him. “Wasn’t that funny?”

“Ricky had a crush on me?” Jiwoong says, looking extremely disturbed. He looks like
Matthew had just said Yujin had a crush on him. It’s good to know Ricky belongs in the same
category of development as Yujin in Jiwoong’s eyes.

“I never did!” Ricky lies smoothly, making a vow to do something extremely terrible to
Matthew later. Well, if he has the energy to. He could just ask Gyuvin to prank him instead.
“People just like to start rumours.”

“Did someone say rumours?” The resident Gossip Girl struts into the kitchen, one hand on
his hip and head cocked to the left. “I’m all ears.”

“There’s nothing like that, Taerae-hyung,” Ricky gestures to the ingredients. “Jiwoong-hyung
agreed to help me bake a cake!”

“I did?” Jiwoong says.

“He did?” Matthew repeats dubiously.

“Wow, that sounds like fun!” Taerae says delightedly, hopping onto a bar stool. “Like an
absolute trainwreck waiting to happen. I wanna watch.”

“Did you have to say it like that, hyung…”

Five minutes later, Ricky has flour in his hair and on his eyebrows. The kitchen looks like a
toddler’s run amok inside it (the oversized toddler in question being none other than Ricky)
and Jiwoong is pulling clumps of hair off his head.

“Stop that, Jiwoon-hyung!” Matthew cries, springing to his feet. “You’re already prematurely
balding!”
Him and Taerae had been of absolutely no use, just perched to the side like two vultures
surveying their prey, occasionally making unfunny comments when Ricky gets something
wrong.

Ricky doesn’t get it. All he had to do was put flour in the bowl. How had half of it ended up
everywhere but in the bowl?

“I am not balding, Matthew.” Jiwoong says through gritted teeth. “Ricky. Butter.”

Ricky dutifully measures it out and thankfully the butter doesn’t fly everywhere. Slowly, the
batter comes into existence. With the help of the scale, Ricky creams butter and flour with a
delightful new invention called a whisk, cracks the eggs (Jiwoong fishes out the eggshell)
and greases a tin (pours oil into it, while Jiwoong facepalms). There’s vanilla extract in there
too, which smells heavenly.

The mess isn’t too bad, Ricky thinks. He’ll clean it up, obviously. The cake is in the tin and
Jiwoong pops it into the oven, setting a timer, wiping his forehead with relief.

“I think I’d be less stressed out with Yujin in the kitchen,” Jiwoong says, collapsing into a
chair. “Jesus Christ, Ricky.”

“I usually just go by Ricky,” Ricky says with a shit-eating grin. Jiwoong raises the oven
gloves warningly at him.

“On the floor now,” he commands. “Plank. Two minutes.”

Two minutes later, Ricky starts cleaning up the kitchen, his abs burning with pain. He wants
to open the oven to see his cake, but Jiwoong had firmly told him off. It would make the cake
sink if he did, apparently. How fascinating.

A warm buttery smell fills the house and Ricky considers genuinely taking up baking as a
side hobby. He hadn’t been awful, with Jiwoong’s help.

“Do you think we could make cookies next time?” Ricky contemplates, having finished
wiping down the counter.

Jiwoong lets out a groan.

“There’s going to be a next time?”

Jiwoong’s a little dramatic, Ricky thinks. He’s pretty sure his hyung had fun, taking charge of
Ricky in an apron and white chef’s hat. He enjoyed it a lot too, honestly. They should hang
out more.

No more disasters occur and with trembling hands, Ricky carefully takes out the golden
sponge cake from the oven, transferring it to the counter without dropping it. His mouth
waters at the sight. Ricky had strawberries and cream in his bag too, he’d wanted to make a
Victoria sponge.
“Can we decorate the cake now?” Ricky says, swallowing the drool trying to escape his
mouth. “It looks amazing.”

“I’m surprised Ricky made something edible that I actually would eat,” Taerae confesses
begrudgingly. They’re all hunched over the cake, admiring Ricky’s handiwork. “Well,
Jiwoong-hyung did most of the heavy lifting, to be fair.”

Ricky shrugs. It’s true.

“Even I’d eat it,” Matthew agrees and silence envelopes the kitchen. He glares at all of them,
outraged. “What?!”

“With all due respect,” Jiwoong begins. “Matthew, you eat like a pregnant woman.”

“Pregnant woman? What? I do not-!” Matthew cries, as if it’s preposterous.

He’s still in denial. Ricky’s seen the food combos Matthew’s put together. They all deserve to
go on r/cursedfoods. Peanut butter and fried eggs on a waffle. French fries dipped in maple
syrup and injeolmi powder. That was only the top of the iceberg. Ricky is suddenly taken
back to a dark repressed memory of cornflakes in tomato soup. He shivers and they listen to
Matthew protest his innocence as the cake cools.

“It’s good if you try it!” Matthew is still shouting, pacing around the kitchen. “None of you
ever tried it properly, that’s why. You can’t just go off appearance! And it’s about the
mentality. You need to be open-minded, think of ingredients as different flavours not things
that must strictly adhere to certain combos-”

“We’ll cut the cake in half and decorate,” Jiwoong whispers quietly into Ricky’s ear. “Cream
first, then strawberries.”

Ricky gets on with it as Jiwoong keeps an eye on him and starts to placate Matthew. He’s
quite the little apprentice. Matthew huffs and puffs but eventually calms down and sits in his
original place next to Taerae.

Jiwoong helps him dust the top of the sponge with icing sugar – Ricky didn’t know sieves
could be that useful – and tada! A beautiful Victoria sponge, filled with strawberries and
cream is sitting before him, made by Ricky.

Why had he even done this again?

He snaps a few photos and is about to send one to Gyuvin when he realises. He’s got to share
the cake with his hyungs, of course. Ricky had been fantasising about dumping the cake in
front of Gyuvin in all its blazing glory to prove a point. But then that would be unfair to
Jiwoong, and all the labour he put into helping Ricky.

The cake is still warm and in front of them so Ricky busies himself with slicing it into pieces
and eating it instead.

He takes five-eights of the cake home, having forced Jiwoong to accept payment to his
baking lesson and calls a taxi back to his place. There’s no way he’s walking around carrying
such delicate goods.

Gyuvin, predictably, doesn’t even believe Ricky made it. He calls his flatmates to the kitchen,
where his cake sits on Ricky’s prettiest porcelain plate. One of the pieces is a little squashed,
but it can’t be helped.

“You just bought it,” he accuses, while Gunwook helps himself to a slice, letting out an ooh
of surprise as he bites into it.

“It’s really good,” Gunwook says and gives Ricky a thumbs-up. It’s nice to know someone
has his back. “Were you practicing for the contest?”

“That’s right,” Ricky nods. “And because I’m a better baker than Gyuvin.” At that, Gunwook
just rolls his eyes.

Gyuvin sniffs the slice of cake suspiciously, still looking for signs of foul play, before he
succumbs to its rich creamy scent and takes a bite.

Ricky’s heart starts pounding in trepidation, watching Gyuvin chew slowly, the gears
whirring in his brain as he comprehends the taste of Ricky’s first ever baked good.

“You really made this?” Gyuvin says, having finally swallowed. “By yourself?”

“Well, Jiwoong-hyung helped,” Ricky admits begrudgingly. “But I did most of it.” He’s
waiting for Gyuvin to say something, and realises that something is praise.

Ricky wants Gyuvin to praise his cake. Ricky automatically grimaces at the notion. Since
when had he been so desperate for approval?

“It’s really good,” Gyuvin says, sitting down at the table and polishing the rest of his slice off
in two gigantic mouthfuls. “You should make more.”

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t be for you,” Ricky says petulantly, still standing at the kitchen
counter and ignoring the warmth that spreads through him at Gyuvin’s words. “I’ll make it
for Gunwook instead.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Gunwook cuts in, raising his arms. “I did not agree to get involved in
this. I’ll eat whatever cake is offered my way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I actually have places
to go, and people to meet.”

With that mysterious statement, Gunwook sweeps out the house, still in that goddamn black
tank top. Ricky’s beginning to wonder if it’s something like a childhood teddy to him. Or a
lucky charm, perhaps.

“Wait, so Jiwoong-hyung helped you make the cake?” Gyuvin says suddenly. “Did you make
it at his house.”

“Yeah, Matthew and Taerae were there too,” Ricky says and watches Gyuvin relax back into
his seat slightly. “But I was thinking of getting more baking lessons from him in the future.”
“Do you think I could too?” Gyuvin says. Ricky grabs his plate and sits down next to
Gyuvin, pulling out a fork to eat his second slice with. There’s definitely something different
about the imperfections of something he’s clumsily baked, the hard work he put into it
making it taste all the sweeter.

“I’m not sure their kitchen is big enough,” Ricky wonders out loud, digging the strawberry
out from between the two pieces of sponge cake. “I think we’d have to do it separately.”

“You’re over Jiwoong-hyung, right?” Gyuvin’s voice sounds weird, kind of tight. Ricky
watches the subtle changes in his expression and realises Gyuvin is bothered by something.

However, the suggestion that Ricky likes Jiwoong is so ridiculous that he just laughs. Gyuvin
doesn’t laugh with him, lips pressed together in a line.

“I don’t know why everyone keeps bringing that up,” Ricky acquiesces, realising Gyuvin
seems to genuinely doubt him. “I just thought he was hot, it was never that deep.”

“Well, I mean,” Gyuvin stammers. “I’m only asking because we’re dating now. And I thought
it might look weird…”

Ricky realises that oddly enough, neither Matthew, Taerae or Jiwoong had brought up the fact
that he was dating Gyuvin while they were making cake. Somehow, they’d been so focused
on the cake, the topic just hadn’t came up.

“I’ll bring it up next time I see them,” Ricky assures Gyuvin. “That we’re dating.” He gives
one of Gyuvin’s hands a little squeeze.

“So don’t worry, okay?”

Gyuvin smiles and squeezes back. Once again, it’s starting to feel a little too real. Just the two
of them in the flat, holding hands.

“You have cream on your mouth,” Gyuvin says, pointing to the corner of Ricky’s mouth.
Ricky brushes at the side of his mouth, sticking his tongue out to try and lick it off.

“Did I get it?” Ricky says, reaching for a tissue. He lets go of Gyuvin’s hand to do so and
dabs at his mouth delicately. “How’s that?”

In response, Gyuvin kisses him. He finds himself pulling Gyuvin in closer, hands tugging
through his short locks. Gyuvin tastes of the strawberries and cream in the cake and Ricky
wants to delve deeper, explore Gyuvin’s mouth with his own. They break apart, not meeting
each other’s eyes.

Gyuvin is panting and Ricky’s own breathes are shaky. They both stand up and fall into each
other again, kissing like the world is ending.

It’s like they’re in the bathroom again, except this time, Ricky can’t bring himself to stop.
Chapter End Notes

yeah. so they weren't MEANT to kiss yet. they werent meant to kiss like that for a
looong time. but gyubrik are just so crazy they couldn't hold back any longer. my fic
outline is in ruins. ricky controls my fingers when i type.

i dont know what's happening. i just get possessed and then wtf. someone STOP them.

much love <3 comments appreciated

also, rating may change next chapter. we'll see.

final P.S. updates should be more frequent. i had 5 really stressful things blow up in my
face so i didnt write for like 2 weeks. but i should be ok now :D
 I'll Put a Strawberry Up Your Asshole
Chapter Summary

Round 2 of the contest. The aftermath.

Chapter Notes

It's been so long... I'm sorry.

Between my grandpa being hospitalised, a mental health crisis, food poisoning and
many others, I've been so out of it.

This chapter is longer than usual though to make up for it!

Also unedited, so probably will have a few errors.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

To tell the god-honest truth, Ricky has never thought about kissing Kim Gyuvin. He can
swear it on his life. Not before this fake-dating business anyway. Even when making up their
fake confession plan and they’d shared that one close-lipped kiss, it hadn’t really lingered in
Ricky’s mind.

This time, Gyuvin pulls away first but he reaches out and Ricky takes his hand and follows.
Gyuvin pulls him into his bedroom and slumps down on his bed, taking Ricky down with
him. There’s a jolt as Ricky collapses flush against Gyuvin, nose-to-nose and chest-to-chest.

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Gyuvin’s eyes are hungry with desire but there’s
something else too that stirs strange feelings in Ricky himself. He isn’t sure what his own
face betrays and isn’t sure if he wants to know what Gyuvin is seeing right now as he looks at
Ricky.

He’s always been able to envision Gyuvin as a romantic partner, as someone’s boyfriend but
it’s always been a distant, shadowy figure beside him, with a blurred face. Not Ricky, never
Ricky.

It’s a shock to him too. Gyuvin’s never given an indication that he wants to kiss Ricky. Yet
here they are, eating each other’s faces off.

His blood feels like lava, scorching throughout his body, heating up more and more with
every heartbeat. Gyuvin’s warm too, as Ricky finds out when his hands have sneak under
Gyuvin’s t-shirt to his chest. In a similar fashion, Gyuvin’s got his hands tight around Ricky’s
waist in a burning grip.

He leaves Ricky’s lips and instead goes lower, nipping along his jaw and down to Ricky’s
neck.

Ricky’s eyes fly open in surprise and he lets out a gasp, which quickly transforms into a
moan as Gyuvin sucks at the junction of his clavicle. It’s a little clumsy but forceful, just like
Gyuvin himself. It makes him go weak and Ricky drops his weight fully onto Gyuvin, no
longer keeping himself propped up.

There’s a second revelation here: Gyuvin is hard. Unless the weight against Ricky’s thigh is a
banana in his pocket. Ricky nudges against Gyuvin there and has the pleasure of watching his
best friend’s face freeze.

“Ricky-” Gyuvin begins but is silenced as Ricky presses a finger to his lips. He’s pretty sure
there’s not a single coherent thought passing through either of their brains right now. There’s
just those little birds flying around in circles like in cartoons, tweeting ‘gay~ gay~ gay~’.

Basically, they might as well be two animals in heat. It’s indeed all instinct and gut reaction
as Ricky lays a hand over Gyuvin’s crotch and hears him make a choked-out groans.
Gyuvin’s long Bambi-like lashes flutter with each heave of his chest as Ricky slides a hand
past Gyuvin’s waistband and touches him, skin-to-skin. Gyuvin’s pretty, Ricky thinks
absently, watching as Gyuvin indents his bottom lip with his teeth, bucking into his hips into
the circle of Ricky’s fingers. Their eyes don’t leave each other for a second.

“Ricky, I’m gonna-” Gyuvin splutters. Ricky tightens his grip as Gyuvin’s cum-face is
officially committed into his long-term memory. He feels his hand get sticky and hastily
withdraws it from Gyuvin’s pants, which now have a stain right in the middle.

Gyuvin breathes raggedly for a bit and then he turns to Ricky once he’s regained his
composure a little.

“Do you want me to…?”

“It’s okay,” Ricky says but Gyuvin pounces on him anyway, pushing Ricky down beneath
him and cupping him without warning. “Hey!”

“You’re hard too,” Gyuvin murmurs to himself, almost like an accusation. “I wanna see.”

There’s the click of Ricky’s belt buckle as Gyuvin clumsily opens it and pulls out Ricky’s
dick, exposing it to room air. It’s kind of embarrassing and makes Ricky want to hide his
face. He wants to hide his face even more when Gyuvin actually starts pumping his hand up
and down Ricky’s length, his palm wide enough that Ricky’s dick disappears under it.

Gyuvin’s doing something crazy with his thumb, pressing it hard to Ricky’s head while
continuing to pump, causing a painfully pleasant feeling of oversensitivity that makes Ricky
vibrate in his grasp. It’s not long before Ricky feels his stomach clench in pleasure and grabs
onto Gyuvin’s wrist to stop him moving as he comes messily into Gyuvin’s hand.
As the cum on Ricky’s hand dries, so does the inside of his mouth. He’s not got any words in
his mouth, his tongue heavy and languid, but the silence is getting more awkward with every
passing second that they refuse to make eye contact. He’s got to say something. Anything to
cut through this wall of tension. Ricky’s starting to genuinely be concerned that if he doesn’t
say something, their friendship is just going to end.

“Thanks, bro.”

Fuck! Ricky had said something. But why the fuck did it have to be ‘bro’? Ricky isn’t even a
bro-type of guy with Gyuvin, he’s only really like that with Matthew. The tiny creatures that
live in Ricky’s brain all come alive and begin screaming at him simultaneously.

You just jerked him off! He just jerked you off! You looked him in the eye as he came into your
hand! And now you hit him with a ‘bro’?!

“Uh, you’re welcome?” Gyuvin replies, looking at Ricky in mild confusion. “I had fun too,
bro.”

“Yeah,” Ricky replies like an idiot. He wracks his head for anything but the word ‘bro’. “We
should wash up.”

Gyuvin nods in agreement and it’s then he realises Gyuvin’s still slumped on top of him. His
weight is kind of reassuring after the earth-shattering incident that is what Ricky’s brain
unhelpfully dubs ‘Brojobgate’. His armpit is way too close to Ricky’s face for comfort and
looks pretty damp with sweat.

“OK, get off me,” Ricky commands in alarm at this startling revelation. “You’re all gross.”

“No, I’m not,” Gyuvin protests, but lets out a winded noise as Ricky knees him in the gut and
rolls off him to the side. “Ow, Ricky. This is abuse.”

“Your armpit near my face is abuse,” Ricky retorts. “Go shower or I will.”

That’s Ricky being nice. He tends to shower last, because he knows he takes the longest as he
refuses to rush and will sing to his heart’s content (or until the water runs cold).

At that, Gyuvin scrambles to his feet. His dick’s still hanging out, dangling limply in Ricky’s
face. Ricky has a moment of cognitive dissonance and desperately thinks to himself that it’s
perfectly normal to see your friends naked now and then. Especially if they’re both guys.
Even if the reason for said nakedness typically wasn’t labelled friendship.

Gyuvin disappears into the bathroom and Ricky finally moves into an upright position,
wincing at the uncomfortable stickiness in his nether regions.

They’re just bros helping each other out, that’s all.

Ricky will acknowledge the elephant in the room. Gyuvin is, like, objectively hot or
whatever. Ricky’s known on campus for his flashy designer clothes and sweeping
everywhere in all black, while dripping with thousands of dollars’ worth of jewellery. He’s
popular in an untouchable way and Ricky knows people’s first impression of him is that he’s
intimidating. That’s why his friendship groups remain close but small. The rest of the people
who are willing to approach him are usually attracted to his seemingly vast wealth.

But Gyuvin’s known differently by their peers, in a way that’s reminiscent of Hanbin-hyung,
not that Ricky would ever draw parallels between Hanbin’s relationship with Zhang Hao and
his relationship with Gyuvin. They’re known for being kind and approachable, the kind of
guy that girls are comfortable getting drunk with or walking home at together. Well, Gyuvin
doesn’t even drink, so there’s that too.

Ricky’s been told dozens of times his features are sharp, striking and he does his make-up to
emphasise that. Gyuvin’s just the opposite, with big, round eyes and squishy cheeks, tall and
gangly with disproportionately large hands. Hands that had felt very nice on Ricky’s waist.

Ricky frowns at that. Anyway, Gyuvin is hot and Ricky can acknowledge it. That his best
friend is attractive. Where Ricky is hard edges, Gyuvin is soft curves. They complement each
other in that way.

The other elephant trumpeting in the room is woefully ignored for now. The one that
demands to know why Ricky and Gyuvin would even be doing all this in the first place.

The third and final elephant gets a nod from Ricky. He never knew that Gyuvin was attracted
to guys. It’s not like Ricky assumed Gyuvin was straight, but in all the time he’s known
Gyuvin, he’s never mentioned liking any guys or having feelings for one before.

Well, Ricky can worry about it once they win the couple contest and go on holiday together.
For now, they need to stay as a fake couple no matter what and Ricky doesn’t want to bring
up feelings talk and make everything weird.

That is, if somehow jerking each other off doesn’t make things weird.

To Gyuvin’s credit, he doesn’t bring up Brojobgate in front of Ricky. In fact, life moves on
quite peacefully, to the point that Ricky almost forgets about it. The keyword is almost. He
absolutely does not spend an obsessive amount of time focusing on the bulge in Gyuvin’s
trousers and how he had held said bulge in his hand.

It’s another Saturday morning of queuing up outside the sports centre for Round 2. The first
round hasn’t aired yet, but a short teaser had been posted on the Youtube channel. Word had
gotten round about Gyuvin and Ricky and they’d both been getting more attention.

They’d both already had fangirls, but Ricky is starting to see another type of fangirl
altogether. The ones that start shrieking when Gyuvin picks him up from class and laces their
fingers together. Or when Ricky adjusts Gyuvin’s collar or something.
“They’re fujoshis,” Zhang Hao explains patiently to him, having joined the two of them in
queue. “Don’t worry, they’re relatively harmless.” Zhang Hao pronounces the Japanese word
with startling accuracy, which is a little suspicious.

“Relatively insane, more like,” Ricky says, leaning back into Gyuvin. The cameras are
panning and in an effort to look extra coupley, Gyuvin is hugging him from behind. “Look,
they’re literally stalking us.”

True to Ricky’s words, a gaggle of girls are hovering on the perimeter of the spots centre,
eagerly craning their heads.

“They might not be for you,” Zhang Hao says smugly. “They could be looking for me.”

Yeah, Ricky supposes it’s a fair point. Zhang Hao was already well-known for being a good-
looking musical genius and everything and since dating the other golden boy on campus, his
reputation had skyrocketed to almost celebrity levels.

Ricky is forcibly humbled as Hanbin arrives on the scene, in a denim jacket and sunglasses.
He pushes his sunglasses past his forehead, sweeping his hair back in the process. The
gathering crowd begin to squeal as he walks through the queue, scanning for Zhang Hao who
also lets out an appreciative sigh at the sight of his boyfriend. Blegh.

“I don’t think they’re your fans either, hyung,” Gyuvin says, over the top of Ricky’s head.
“Look, they’re all filming Hanbin-hyung.”

“They could be fans of me and Hanbin,” Zhang Hao says snippily and for a moment he looks
proud of the attention his boyfriend is getting, then he frowns. “There’s too many people
ogling my man.”

“Well, you did enter a publicly broadcasted competition show about your relationship,”
Ricky points out. “He wouldn’t be as popular if you just kept him to yourself.”

Zhang Hao acts as if Ricky never said a single word and continues to pout at the crowd. Of
course he can’t stand Ricky being right and him being wrong.

“But Zhang Hao-hyung can never resist the urge to show off, can he?” Gyuvin says with a
laugh. “He has the time of his life letting everyone know Hanbin-hyung’s his man.”

“Are you that kind of person?” Ricky asks him, watching Hanbin’s face light up as he looks
over in their direction and starts jogging over.

“Hm, maybe,” Gyuvin says. “I wouldn’t like everyone looking at you and thinking they have
a chance when you’re mine.”

He lowers his voice. Ricky suppresses a shiver as Gyuvin whispers into his ear.

“I mean, I know you’re not really, but you know what I mean.”

“Didn’t your ex-girlfriend say you were jealous?” Ricky thinks out loud.
It had been a brief stint in first year of around two months, some girl Gyuvin had met at a
dance event. Ricky hadn’t really seen much of her or heard much from Gyuvin, surprisingly.
He was normally such a blabbermouth, but he was surprisingly secretive about his
relationship with Gunwook and Ricky. Or maybe he just didn’t tell Ricky very much. Ricky
hadn’t even known they’d broken up till a week later.

“Nah, I wasn’t possessive or anything,” Gyuvin dismisses. “Do you want me to cover your
eyes?”

“Please do,” Ricky begs as Hanbin embraces Zhang Hao. Zhang Hao’s got that sneaky little
glint in his eye that suggests he’s about to put a claim on Hanbin in front of everyone. And
indeed, he leans in and grabs Hanbin’s ass boldly.

The rest is thankfully shielded from view by Gyuvin’s hands.

“I think it’s over,” Gyuvin says and Ricky is jump-scared by the sight of Hanbin twirling
Zhang Hao around. “Oh wait, never mind.” His hands descend in front of Ricky’s eyes again.

They get into the sports centre and this time, there’s a larger centre platform, with tables set
on top. The cameras are set-up around the side and the usual refreshment table.

“Welcome to Round 2, everyone!” Yeri shouts through a microphone. She’s dressed like a
rather puffy cupcake, a cherry headband on her head and has a pink frilly tutu on. “Today’s
going to be lots of fun!”

Seungkwan steps out and there’s clearly some sort of theme in their outfits because he’s got a
birthday cake hat on and the tie of his shirt has donuts printed across the top. Gunwook’s
recon has hit the nail head on because Ricky is certain without a doubt that the challenge is
related to cake-making.

Since Ricky’s first successful cake attempt with Jiwoong, he’d gone to bug his poor senior
one more time and this time made a chocolate cake which had received much praise too, to
Ricky’s great surprise. He might have a talent as a budding baker hidden somewhere.

“I’m sure the more eagle-eyed people among us have noticed that Yeri-ssi and I have also
donned a couple outfit today!” Seungkwan declares, beaming at the crowd. There’s a series
of hoots and whistles as they pose together.

“If only I liked men and he liked women,” Yeri follows up and Ricky watches Gyuvin choke
on his drink next to him and thumps him accordingly on the back. “Any guesses what Round
Two is going to involve?”

“Cooking!” someone yells. Seungkwan lets out a sigh, as if to say ‘really?’

“Baking!”

“Eating!” Gyuvin hollers hopefully over the hubbub.

Ricky bursts out in a fit of giggles and smacks him. Gyuvin lets out a satisfied smirk, pulling
Ricky closer towards him. Ricky’s chest muscles do a weird spasm.
He hears a faint gagging noise behind him and turns around to see a guy with short gelled
black hair, who looks semi-familiar. He’s sitting with half his limbs around another smaller
guy who looks like a freshly hatched chick, with shiny button-black eyes. Maybe he’s
Gyuvin’s classmate or something.

“Says you?” Gyuvin says, turning to the guy with a raised eyebrow. “What are you gagging
about, Seunghan?”

“You’re so whipped, man,” Seunghan says, lips curling into a smirk. “I’ve never seen you
like that, not even with your ex.”

“Is that right?” Ricky jumps in, shooting a sideways glance at Gyuvin, his curiosity getting
the better of him. Bewilderment flashes over his features for a millisecond before his arms
tighten around Ricky, till Gyuvin’s bony shoulder is digging into Ricky’s own.

“Yeah, like Gyuvin never really talked about his ex,” Seunghan says to Ricky, swivelling
over with the other dude trapped between his legs.

Seeing as Gyuvin hasn’t stopped him, Seunghan takes it as a cue to keep talking.

“But he’s always going on about you. Like, I’d almost be tired of it if I wasn’t the same with
Sohee here,” Seunghan gestures at the guy who’s he resting his chin on, who is blinking with
wide, innocent eyes as he listens to them talk. Ricky kinda wants to invite him to join the
conversation, but Sohee seems pretty zoned out.

“What does Gyuvin say about me?” Ricky asks daringly. Seunghan looks all too eager to
expose his classmate and immediately starts.

“Oh, he just babbles on about how cute his Ricky is and how much he loves his adorable
Lovelicky and he always talks about your butt-”

“That’s enough!” Gyuvin finally interrupts, face having gone bright red.

“I’ve heard a lot too,” Sohee finally pipes up. “It feels like Gyuvin-ssi’s liked you for a long
time.”

“Oh,” Ricky hears himself say, voice coming out a tad high. Gyuvin must be a really
convincing actor. But then again, Ricky’s not so bad himself. Zhang Hao’s completely
deluded himself that Ricky’s been in love with Gyuvin for years and never realised and it
hadn’t taken much effort on Ricky’s part to convince him. It was also pretty easy to fool
Jiwoong, Taerae and Matthew when they’d tried to dig into Ricky’s life.

Although to be honest, the three of them were such chatterboxes that they had done all the
work for him. Matthew would ask him a kinda intrusive question and then Ricky would let
out a ‘hm’ or nod slightly then Jiwoong and Taerae would burst out with their own
conclusions.

For example:
“Have you guys gone all the way yet?” Matthew would say and Jiwoong and Taerae would
both hit him on the shoulder in outrage, but Ricky could tell that deep down those nosy little
bastards wanted to know all the gory details.

Handling Matthew’s eccentricities is an art that Ricky likes to think he’s mastered. He hums
noncommittally. Taerae gasps.

“Oh my god, did you really?” he cries and covers his mouth with his hands. “When?”

Jiwoong looks extremely queasy and covers his ears.

Ricky shrugs.

“You know,” he says. And so on and so forth.

Gyuvin’s just stopped speaking and is still a delicate shade of pink.

“So about my butt?” Ricky says and watches in Gyuvin refuse to meet his gaze.

They’ve not been paying any attention to Seungkwan and Yeri explaining the actual game
and their names both get called for their group.

“Um, what are we doing?” Gyuvin says. Ricky shrugs. He wasn’t listening.

“Dunno.”

They end up on the platform and basically the challenge is testing their communication and
cake-baking. The person standing at the front has to give instructions on how to bake the
cake and the other person is blindfolded and has to use their hands to follow said instructions.

Ricky’s got the apron on and Gyuvin’s arms are sticking out from his armpits, acting as his
arms.

“You have forty minutes hour to get this cake in the oven, and if we don’t have enough
footage, we’ll make you decorate it later too.” Yeri jokes but Ricky really hopes they don’t
have to decorate it. It’s going to be exhausting enough directing Gyuvin as it is.

Luckily, they only have to weigh out the ingredients and combine them, as the rest of the
cakes will baked in the portable ovens lined up at the side.

The sports hall has been split into two so they can film two groups at the same time to speed
up the process, with a total of ten couples filming at once.

In their group of five, there’s Seunghan and Sohee from earlier, neither of them looking too
confident. There seems to be more intention with how they’re splitting the groups, and it isn’t
random like Round 1. They must have figured out which couples were most popular with
viewers and they’ve been strategically separated a few into each group so they can have more
screentime, or even, a better chance to win. All survival shows are rigged in some way or
another.
Ricky doesn’t think he’s being arrogant when he’s pretty sure him and Gyuvin are the it-
couple of their group. His Instagram following had doubled ever since Round 1 was released.
He recognises the blond guy next to him because Ricky automatically remembers any other
blond guy on campus. They’re his competitors. This blond guy has a cute little pixie face
dotted with freckles and is with another nerdy-looking brown-haired guy.

“Do you know anyone else in our group beside Seunghan and Sohee?” Ricky asks. Gyuvin
shakes his head. They’re all extras, Ricky decides. Him and Gyuvin are the protagonists and
stars of the show. He needs to get his head in the game and stop worrying about what the
others are doing. Right now, it’s just him and Gyuvin against the clock.

As soon as the contestants place the blindfolds over their eyes and they’re checked to make
sure no one’s cheating, the buzzer sounds.

To be kind, the contestants have been provided with instructions but they’re honestly the bare
bones. There’s a list of ingredients and their weights and then it gets very vague. Cream
butter and sugar, add wet ingredients then dry ingredients. If Ricky had no experience with
baking, he’d have been totally lost.

He can already hear the confusion from the other couples around them.

“How do you cream butter and sugar? Do you add cream to it?”

“Gyuvin, the butter’s on your left,” Ricky instructs and Gyuvin jerks his hand violently to the
left immediately. “Don’t turn so abruptly! You’re gonna knock something over.”

“Maybe you should specify how many degrees to the left then,” Gyuvin grumbles back but
he feels over the table slowly, till his hand grabs the block of butter. Ricky wants to tell him
to hurry up but he just told him to slow down, so he swallows his complaints. If he wants
Gyuvin to cooperate, he needs to make sure Gyuvin doesn’t get too stressed, and they don’t
start to fight for real.

Without Ricky’s prompting, Gyuvin unwraps it.

“Nice,” Ricky says. He should leave some positive reinforcement here and there. In his focus
on making the perfect cake, he had almost forgotten the other role they had to play. “Now we
need half of it.”

“You want me to cut something with a knife while blindfolded?” Gyuvin says in horror. “No
way.”

“Use a spoon to cut it in half then,” Ricky suggests. The butter finally ends up in the mixing
bowl, which Ricky has Gyuvin place on the scale.

There’s, like, ten extra grams of butter but it shouldn’t affect the outcome too much. Ricky
hopes so.
“Sugar next, babe,” Ricky prompts and has to bite his tongue as Gyuvin searches for it across
the counter. “Whatever you do, do not put too much in. Add it slowly.”

Gyuvin promptly misses the opening of the bowl and pours sugar onto the surface of the
counter.

“Stop! Stop!” Ricky shrieks and Gyuvin drops the sugar in fright.

“Why are you squawking like a bird?”

“You’re missing the bowl, you big oaf, that’s why!”

“Oaf? What’s with the medieval insults?”

“Shut up! We need to hurry up and get the goddamn sugar in!”

“I’m trying to, you clod-brained pillock!”

Ricky’s blood pressure rises immediately.

“Two-fifty grams of sugar in the bowl,” Ricky says, squeezing his arms tighter around
Gyuvin to try and get him closer to the edge of the bowl.

Again, they’re off by a few grams, but Ricky doesn’t care.

“Spoon. Then mix till I say so.” Gyuvin puts his muscles to use and Ricky lets him go at it
with gusto.

“I’m pretending it’s your face,” Gyuvin comments and Ricky hugs him extra hard, digging
his fist in below Gyuvin’s sternum and essentially performing the Heimlich on him.

Gyuvin lets out a winded gasp as all the air is pushed from his lungs.

“I need to be able to breathe to finish making the cake, ass-face. What’s next?”

“Two eggs,” Ricky grumbles. He scans their surroundings and is relieved to see that while
they’re a little behind, they’re not doing the worst. The other blond guy is blindfolded and
still has a huge chunk of butter not mixed into the sugar. Over at Seunghan’s end, there’s
flour rising in the air around them although Ricky’s sure they haven’t added the wet
ingredients yet.

“Crack it into the bowl?” Gyuvin asks.

“No, another bowl.” God forbid they get eggshell in their cake. “Can you crack eggs?”

“Can you even cook an egg?” Gyuvin sneers. “You’re even worse at frying eggs than Mark
Lee.”

He proceeds to crack the eggs perfectly into a separate bowl.

“I’m better than Mark Lee!” Ricky can’t let that one slip past him. Mark Lee had been the
Student Union President and ended up going viral for frying an egg so badly that Gordon
Ramsay had cursed him out on Twitter.

“You now have twenty minutes to get your cakes in the oven!” Seungkwan hollers.
“Meanwhile, I’ll be coming round to see how you’re all getting on.”

Gyuvin beats the eggs and gets them into the bowl sharpish. A teaspoon of vanilla extract
later, it’s time for the baking powder and flour.

There’s also a few extra ingredients for them to get creative with for their cake. Fruit,
chocolate, nuts, sweets, coffee amongst the selection, and some strange things for culinary
risk-takers or to catch people out. Ginger, chestnuts, and oddly enough, candied bacon.

Matthew would have a wild time experimenting with those.

Ricky wants to keep it to basics. Simple is more.

Gyuvin disagrees though.

“That’s gonna be so boring,” he whines as he folds in the flour. Ricky instructs him to be
gentle and not to overmix. “We need to do something to make the flavours stand out. We
need to take a risk!”

“Are you a baker?” Ricky says pettily.

“No, but I’m a better cook than you.” Gyuvin responds. “We need to be adventurous! No
strawberries, Ricky. I’m not going to put any on!”

“I’m gonna stuff a strawberry up your asshole,” Ricky mutters quietly enough that the
cameras don’t pick up on it.

“You’re not coming anywhere near my asshole,” Gyuvin says far too loudly, much to Ricky’s
dismay. He’s also found the candied bacon and no matter how hard Ricky is trying to commit
asphyxiation via hugging, Gyuvin isn’t letting go of it. Ricky’s never going to tell Gyuvin
what ingredient he’s holding unless they need it again.

“Bacon and maple syrup!” Gyuvin announces, to Ricky’s total horror. “Matthew-hyung told
me it tasted really good together!”

“Gyuvin no!”

“Gyuvin yes!”

Ricky watches his world crumble to pieces in slow motion as Gyuvin adds the pieces of
candied bacon into their cake mix.

“Not maple syrup,” Ricky says determinedly. “Add chocolate chips instead.” All he can think
of is how disappointed Gunwook’s going to be if they don’t make it through this round
(although Ricky is counting on their popularity to see them through, even if their cake is
subpar).

“Chocolate? That could work,” Gyuvin agrees and he lets Ricky guide him to those.

Seungkwan chooses to pop round their table at the moment Ricky is instructing Gyuvin on
how to grease the cake tin and empty the bacon-maple-chocolate cake into it (Gyuvin had got
his way in the end).

“So, you two caused quite an uproar last time and you’ve been quite noisy today too!”
Seungkwan says, clapping his hands together. “How is the cake moving along though?”

“Well, we’ve taken a big risk with our flavours,” Gyuvin says, “and we really hope that it
pays off.”

“It better,” Ricky adds threateningly. “Because it was Gyuvin’s idea to not listen to me and
take that risk in the first place.”

“Ah, yet another lover’s quarrel,” Seungkwan comments, shaking his head. “Well, you have
five minutes left everyone. Good luck to you both!” In a truly professional manner,
Seungkwan sweeps away.

They’re actually doing surprisingly well for time. They waddle to the oven together, with
Ricky repeatedly threatening Gyuvin’s life if he dares drop the cake tin and only when the
oven closes with a snap does Ricky breathe a sigh of relief. His arms are starting to hurt from
hugging Gyuvin for so long, especially when he’s been trying to suffocate him. He might
have sore wrists tomorrow.

The round ends, not before Felix drops their cake on the floor before it can make it into the
oven, sending cake batter flying across the room. Ricky gleefully suppresses a smirk. He’ll
always be the superior blond.

Gyuvin rips the blindfold off his head, red lines indented into his face. He looks silly, like a
cartoon thief or something. Then he squints in pain from the strong lights of the sports hall.

Ricky is finding it too cute to resist. He pinches Gyuvin’s cheek like a grandma and watches
Gyuvin’s face get redder where Ricky’s pinched, as well as all around the area. His cheeks
are just going red. Ricky thinks he could chew on his cheeks like they’re mochi.

“You look stupid,” he says eventually as Gyuvin pouts. “But you did well. Good job.”

“Oh? Oh? Oh?” Gyuvin looks more-than-pleased. He’s bouncing up and down as he holds
onto Ricky’s hands, jostling Ricky left and right. “Was that a compliment for me? Praise me
more! Another one, c’mon Ricky!”

“Do you want me to treat you like a baby?” Ricky replies.

“I’m your baby,” Gyuvin quips, with a wink. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Thank God the results will be announced online.

Ricky has the pleasure of waving goodbye to Zhang Hao and Hanbin who are still waiting for
their go and they step out the stuffy interior of the sports hall to natural light again.

After this round, the number of contestants will be halved to thirty. Ricky’s cautiously
optimistic of their cake – despite the bacon and chocolate in it. Gunwook might even have
connections that can ensure they make it to the next round.

“Do you wanna get lunch?” Gyuvin says, still swinging Ricky’s hand around. “I’m starving.”

“Why not?” Ricky agrees. “I think Gunwook’s class also finishes soon. I’ll text him to
come.”

There’s a nice noodle place not far from here that they’ve been meaning to go to for a while,
and with Gunwook getting busier with his classes and all the secret sneaking around he’s
been doing (Ricky will prise it out of him), it’ll be nice to have a flat lunch.

“Wait!” Gyuvin cries, just as Ricky pulls out his phone. “I-um-”

“What?”

“Oh, er…” Gyuvin scratches the back of his neck in a suspicious gesture of casualness. “I
thought it was just going to be us two.”

“I was thinking we could go to the noodle place as a flat,” Ricky says, confused. “We haven’t
eaten together for a while. And Gunwook said he heard from someone that it was good.”

“Yeah! You’re right. That’s true. Yeah.” Gyuvin sounds a little crestfallen but he seems to be
agreeing with Ricky. Whatever.

He texts Gunwook about meeting up for lunch.

Busy, sorry! Only got time to grab a quick bite before I have to get back to class.

“Gunwook’s not free,” Ricky informs Gyuvin. “Shall we go to the noodle place anyway?”
Now it’s in his head, Ricky really is craving noodles.

Gyuvin looks kind of constipated.

“Do you…not want noodles?”

“No! Yeah! I want noodles,” Gyuvin replies, in the same jumpy way. “Let’s go, Ricky.”

The walk there is surprisingly quiet. Perhaps all the baking had really tired Gyuvin out. They
get a table for two and as they walk to the back of the restaurant, Ricky has to slam his hand
over Gyuvin’s mouth before he yells.

“Quiet!” Ricky shushes him as Gyuvin’s eyes widen like saucers. Because behind their table,
partially obscured by a partition screen, is none other than Park Gunwook.
“His pyramid of lies finally comes crumbling down,” Gyuvin says smugly, peeking round to
look at Gunwook again. Ricky copies him, needing a closer look.

There’s a bowl of noodles in front of Gunwook, but he’s not digging into them with the
ferocious gusto he usually has. In fact, Gunwook keeps raising his chopsticks, then missing
his mouth and putting the noodles back down.

He’s also styled his hair and he’s got a blazer on, dressed smarter than usual.

Ricky and Gyuvin turn to each other, putting two and two together.

“Is he on a date?” they whisper simultaneously.

But the question is, with who?

“He’ll have to leave with them, surely,” Gyuvin whispers.

They’re so both rattled by their discovery of Gunwook’s secret double life that they jump a
foot in the air when the waiter comes over with their menus.

“I’ll have…whatever that dude there is having,” Gyuvin says immediately, jabbing a finger in
Gunwook’s direction. “It looks good.”

“Uh, sure,” the waiter says, raising an eyebrow at them. His name badge reads Chenle. “I
think that’s the braised beef noodles.

Gyuvin tilts his head meaningfully at Ricky, who gets his message.

“Can I have whatever the other person with him is having?” Ricky says. They can’t actually
see if Gunwook’s alone or not, and this will confirm it.

Chenle peers over at Gunwook’s table and back at them two, clearly judging.

“The other guy with him has the same order,” he says dryly. “So is that two braised beef
noodles?”

“Yup, and a strawberry milkshake,” Ricky says. He hasn’t even opened the drinks menu.

“I’m afraid we don’t serve milkshakes here.” Chenle deadpans. “As it says in the menu.”

Gyuvin flips it open with a fake laugh.

“My bad, sorry!” he says. Ricky bites his lip to suppress his laughter. He feels bad for poor
Chenle but lunch is no longer high on their priorities. “I’ll get the mango juice and my
boyfriend will have the brown sugar bubble tea.”

Ricky almost flinches at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’. He’d totally forgotten.

“Excellent, is that all?” Chenle says, not waiting for an answer. He picks up both the menus
then swoops away.
“So, Gunwook’s with a guy?”

They can’t hear Gunwook’s conversation over the general chatter in the restaurant. They
watch as Gunwook laughs. He twirls some noodles around his chopsticks and leans forward-

Ricky and Gyuvin both gasp as Gunwook feeds his noodles to the mysterious person.

“This is so stupid!” Ricky exclaims. “Didn’t they order the same thing?”

“It’s definitely a date,” Gyuvin decides. “When has Gunwook ever fed us?”

In between bouts of Gunwook-watching, Ricky and Gyuvin move onto to other topics of
conversation as they wait for their food.

“Do you want to go visit Yujin in the afternoon?” Gyuvin comments. “We should see how his
arm is doing. Also, I miss my son.”

“Sounds good,” Ricky slurps at his boba, then has a sudden thought. “We can’t let Gunwook
see us when he leaves the restaurant.”

“Wait, why not?”

“Because then he’ll know that we know that we’ve been spying to us, and that we know he’s
been lying about not being free for lunch,” Ricky says in a rush of words.

“I’m not the problem though,” Gyuvin points meaningfully at Ricky’s hair. “You are. You
couldn’t be inconspicuous in a crowd even if you tried.”

Ricky’s blond hair does glow like a beacon in the dim lighting of the restaurant.

Gyuvin bends down to rummage through his bag and pulls out a slightly squashed baseball
cap.

“You can put that on when he gets up to leave then.”

In the meantime, Chenle comes round with two large steaming bowls of noodles, slices of
beef arranged on top. Ricky feels himself drooling. Automatically, he reaches for his phone to
take a photo.

“Shall I put it on our story?” Ricky tags Gyuvin as a reflex. “Or wait, won’t Gunwook
realise?”

Gyuvin has a devious smile on his face.

“Maybe we should make him sweat a little. Subtly. He doesn’t always check his Instagram.”

Sounds good to Ricky.

“Hand,” Ricky commands, the way one might ask a dog for their paw. Gyuvin intertwines
their fingers, ready for Ricky to snap a date photo. He’s well-trained.
The story is uploaded and instantly starts receiving views and hearts.

Ricky finds himself with a big bunch of noodles being shoved in his face by Gyuvin.

“What?” he demands, trying to push Gyuvin’s arm away from him.

Gyuvin insistently tries to force the noodles towards Ricky’s mouth, splattering soup onto
Ricky’s chin in the process.

Ricky realises his intentions.

“You’re trying to feed me?”

What is this parody of Gunwook and his mysterious date?

“We have the same noodles!” Ricky insists. “I don’t want to try yours.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Gyuvin sighs and reluctantly eats the mouthful of noodles himself. “Can you
feed me then, at least?”

“Why?” Ricky wants to ask, but sometimes Gyuvin is beyond reasoning with.

He scoops up some noodles and thrusts his chopsticks into Gyuvin’s mouth without
hesitation. He said he wanted to be fed, so Ricky’s doing it. He can’t complain.

What, did he want Ricky to say ‘here comes the aeroplane?’

Gyuvin starts choking immediately. A vicious sense of satisfaction arises in Ricky at the
sight. He lets himself enjoy Gyuvin’s pain for a few seconds before clapping him on the back.

“I hate you, Kim Ricky,” he groans.

“Love you too,” Ricky replies mockingly, then freezes.

Has he ever said that to Gyuvin before? His heart races oddly.

“Oh?” Gyuvin starts, both eyebrows raised but then he’s distracted by something else and
grabs Ricky’s wrist. “He’s gone!”

“Who?” With a sinking sensation, Ricky sees that the table Gunwook was sitting at is empty.

He can’t believe Gunwook’s done it. He’s escaped. And what’s worse, he’s probably onto
him and Gyuvin now and will only hide his exploits with even more secrecy.

They have failed miserably. Gunwook: 1000, Ricky & Gyuvin: 0.

Now they’re stuck pretending to date and also pretending not to date in front of Gunwook.
They return home and the whole Brojobgate thing comes to the forefront of Ricky’s mind. It
absolutely cannot happen again.

Yet a mere two hours later after their noodle date, Ricky finds himself fucking his hips
desperately into Gyuvin’s hand, biting into his shoulder. Somehow it just…happened. They
sat down, looked at each other, and the next thing he knows, they’re making out furiously.

Yeah, things aren’t really going great on that front. They don’t talk about it, as usual. Other
than a 'Oh shit, Gunwook’s gonna be home soon, bro'.

Gunwook indeed returns home minutes later and Ricky and Gyuvin have to pretend like they
didn’t just defile the couch he’s now sitting on.

“Why are you two acting weird?” Gunwook says suspiciously. “You’re sitting a metre apart
and haven’t made any eye contact for the last five minutes.”

“How’s that weird?” Ricky tries to reason. “We’re tired of pretending to be a couple all day
long. We need some 'me' time.”

“You two are normally twisted like pretzels on the sofa.” Gunwook returns. “Did something
happen?”

Ricky sweats. He’s not good at confrontation! Especially with a national debate champion.

Gyuvin comes in clutch and saves the day.

“Don’t try and make this about us. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“We know you were on a date today.” Gyuvin shoots accusingly at him.

Gunwook lets out a little laugh, but Ricky knows him well enough to hear the underlying
panic hidden beneath the surface.

“It wasn’t a date,” Gunwook denies, to Ricky and Gyuvin’s sceptical gazes. “I was only
having lunch with a friend.”

“A friend you hand-feed noodles too?”

“Ah, would you look at the time?” Gunwook exclaims loudly, looking at the invisible watch
on his wrist. “I’ve got a Teams meeting.”

He promptly flees the crime scene.

“That was sooo not weird at all,” Gyuvin says.

“Yup,” Ricky agrees.

At least Gunwook seems to preoccupied with his secret boyfriend to poke his nose into him
and Gyuvin's Brojobs.

On Sunday, they pay a visit to Gyuvin's son. Yujin’s home alone and answers the door for the
two of them. He looks unamused.

“How are you, Yujinnie?!” Gyuvin cries, flinging himself at Yujin, careful not to crush the his
injured hand.

“I’m alright,” Yujin says mildly. They follow him up to his room because Yujin had
proclaimed he’s not an adult and doesn’t need to 'host', aka pull out the biscuits and tea tray
like Hanbin apparently does.

Ricky and Gyuvin settle themselves cross-legged on his bed as Yujin spins to and fro in his
desk chair.

“My cast is coming off in three weeks,” Yujin tells them. “My mum's already arranged physio
for my wrist after it gets taken off. Honestly, I’m fine. You didn’t need to check up on me.”

“What, we can’t see you because we want to?” Ricky says with a laugh. “How’s school?”

“I’m the centre in the dance performance for the school festival,” Yujin reveals, with a hint of
smugness. Then he frowns. “If my wrist heals in time. Otherwise that other kid’s gonna steal
my spotlight.”

“Well, the other kid can always have a little'accident',” Gyuvin says breezily.

“Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it, hyung.” Yujin says.

Yujin and Gyuvin play a game for a bit while aricky sketches on his iPad.

“Hao-hyung said you two are dating,” Yujin mentions off-handedly in the middle of a battle.
Gyuvin's character lets out a groan as it dies immediately.

“We are,” he confirms with nervous laughter.

“Forgot to mention it,” Ricky adds, just as awkwardly. For some reason, it’s just harder to lie
to Yujin.

“It’s fake, isn’t it?” Yujin says bluntly. “Right, Ricky?”

“That’s hyung to you, you brat,” Ricky says without an ounce of care.

“I know you don’t mind,” Yujin says, fingers still operating his controller. “You don’t call
Matthew-hyung or Hao-hyung hyung either.”
 He’s got Ricky there.

But, hold on a second.

“What do you mean it’s fake?!”

Chapter End Notes

It's finally here. A little spicy. And they're still dumb as hell.
 All's Fair in Love and War
Chapter Summary

I don't even know how to summarise this chapter. Too many different things happen.

Chapter Notes

see, i promised i'd be faster with an update and i did not lie. i just wrote 4.7k words in
one day. the bulk of this chapter, which is 6.4k words total. im all yaoied out.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Distantly, Ricky notices that Ddungjjungham is perched on Yujin’s bookshelf, whichever

version of the original he is. He wonders if Hanbin has woken up from his delusions about it.
In fact, neither Zhang Hao nor Hanbin have mentioned it since.

“It’s not fake,” Gyuvin rebuts hotly just as Ricky asks, ‘How did you know?’.

“Kim Ricky!” Gyuvin shouts in despair, flinging his controller onto the bed and giving up.

“Hey, chill,” Yujin says, as if he’s the mature adult in the room, not them. “I won’t tell
anyone.”

Gyuvin snorts.

“To think you’d even consider betraying your favourite hyung like that…”

“Loyalty is meaningless in this day and age,” Yujin says solemnly, causing Ricky to side-eye
him immediately. Who hurt him?

“What?”

“Right now, Hao-hyung is still sulking because Hanbin-hyung and I finally decided to come
clean and tell him his cooking sucks.”

That makes Ricky chuckle. Even Sung Hanbin, the simpiest simp of them all, the most
whipped man in the world when it came to Zhang Hao, simply could not stomach another of
Zhang Hao’s concoctions with a smile.

“Zhang Hao’s mad at you though?” Ricky says.

Yujin’s brows furrow and he exhales heavily through his nostrils.

“Even though I usually take Hao-hyung’s side in things,” Yujin mutters. “He’s not just mad at
Hanbin-hyung. He’s mad at me too!”

“I’m sure hyung will come around and forgive you,” Gyuvin offers, which turns out to be the
wrong thing to say as Yujin jumps up off the bed, incensed with a fire Ricky hasn’t seen
possessed with since, well, he climbed the tree and fractured his wrist.

His gestures are a lot harder to take seriously with that neo-green cast being waved around.

“Forgive me!” Yujin cries, aghast. They’ve all completely forgotten about Yujin calling their
relationship fake now. “Hao-hyung should be begging for my forgiveness!”

“How many times have Hanbin-hyung and I got home, only to face the dread, the horror of
Zhang Hao standing by the stove in his ‘kiss the chef’ apron, telling us that dinner is ready?
We sat there, mouths dry and chopsticks clenched in our fists, as we allowed whatever he’s
made to assault our stomach? How many disgusting meals have I choked down just to keep a
smile on Hao-hyung’s face?”

Yujin’s voice gets louder and louder till he’s shouting at the top of his lungs, pacing around
the bedroom in agitation.

Ricky never knew this was something his poor dongsaeng had felt so passionately about.
What a burden he’d been holding onto all this time.

“Yet he’s the one muttering about us being ungrateful and how he’ll never cook for us again!”
Yujin continues. “He said we made a fool out of him by not telling him and trying to spare his
feelings instead.”

“Hey, hey, Yujin,” Ricky placates. “Breathe a little.”

Yujin has his mouth open to continue but snaps his jaw shut, letting out a sullen pout. Gyuvin
smothers him in a hug immediately.

It’s definitely a sticky situation. Zhang Hao has a lot of pride and one of his only weaknesses
is when there’s a skill he struggles to master. It takes him a while to accept that he can’t be a
genius in everything and Ricky can only imagine the blow it must have dealt to his pride to
realise that his cooking was in fact, below average. And that’s putting it kindly.

Ricky had come over for dinner made by Zhang Hao and firmly decided that it was
something he would never experience again in this lifetime.

“It’s no one’s fault, really,” Gyuvin soothes, patting Yujin on the head.

“Maybe Hao-hyung’s fault he can’t cook,” Yujin whispers menacingly under his breath.

“Hey now!” Gyuvin says, shaking Yujin in his arms a little. “What did hyung say about
having a good attitude? Sure, Hao-hyung can’t cook, but there’s lots of things he does do for
you.”
“Fine,” Yujin admits with a huff.

Ricky only hopes Zhang Hao will soften and realise it’s not such a big deal to be bad at
cooking – Ricky himself isn’t great either. And he can always learn properly and go to a
cooking class or something instead. Maybe Hanbin and Yujin shouldn’t have kept up the
façade for so long, but it’s too late to go back in time and they can only move on from it,
really.

Which brings Ricky back to the discussion they were having before Yujin kicked off.

“So, how did you know Gyuvin and I aren’t…like…actually dating?”

“Oh, that,” Yujin says. He’s totally forgotten about it too. “You two are so dumb that you’d
never realise if you had feelings for each other. Hanbin-hyung and Hao-hyung have too much
faith in you.”

Ricky raises an eyebrow, sceptical. Gyuvin also looks immensely betrayed. There’s no use
raising kids sometimes.

“That can’t be it,” he scoffs. “Of course we’d realise. It’s just that we don’t have feelings for
each other.

“My point exactly,” Yujin doubles down with a sigh. He looks at the two of them with an air
of superiority a sixteen-year-old should not possess. Kids these days and their disrespect.
Generation Alpha is doomed.

“?” is what Ricky and Gyuvin verbalise with their respective ‘huh’ noises.

A high-pitched noise interrupts their confusion.

Ricky watches as an orange blur dashes into the room. His gut instinct judges it to be a
mouse and he proceeds to react in kind. He lifts his feet off the floor and scrambles back
towards the wall on Yujin’s bed, and coincidentally presses himself backwards into Gyuvin,
flattening himself like a pancake against the other man.

Gyuvin too is already flat against the wall, but he also winds his hands protectively around
Ricky.

“Oakie!” Yujin calls, picking up the creature in one hand.

It’s the damned orange cat Yujin fractured his wrist for at Matthew’s party.

“Oakie?” Gyuvin echoes. “You named the cat after the tree you fell off?”

“You kept the cat?” Ricky says, staring at the ball of fluff in Yujin’s hand. “I thought...”

He trails off, wondering whether he should burst the bubble.

Wasn’t the whole purpose of Ddungjjungham to circumvent the fact that pets aren’t allowed
by their landlord?
Oakie mewls pathetically at them, so high-pitched it almost sounds like a buzz. Ricky feels it
tug deeply at maternal instincts he didn’t know he possessed.

“Hanbin-hyung stopped giving a fuck about the rules, yeah.” Yujin explains. “And I’m not
the one getting in trouble, so here she is.”

So Hanbin’s quarter-life crisis had resulted in a small-scale rebellion against his landlord.

“Yujin, don’t swear!” Gyuvin admonishes. Yujin rolls his eyes.

“I know you swear, Gyuvin-hyung.”

Ricky can’t blame him Yujin for not taking Gyuvin seriously. Ricky himself swears like a
sailor.

Oakie crawls into Ricky’s lap and instantly coats his trousers in cat fur. She’s so cute that
Ricky manages not to complain. He’s sure he can find a lint roller somewhere. But still. He’s
wearing YSL.

“So what’s gonna happen when the landlord finds out about the cat?”

Yujin shrugs.

“Beats me,” he says, trying his best to look nonchalant. “But I think they’re saving up from
their part-time jobs so they can buy a place when they graduate. Hao-hyung’s been doing
wedding gigs nonstop.”

Oakie moves over to Gyuvin and rolls over, exposing her white belly. They watch as Gyuvin
tickles it and Oakie catches Gyuvin’s finger in her mouth and bites down, nipping lightly. It’s
not a real bite but Gyuvin still yelps and yanks his and away.

“The fuck!” he exclaims, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“That’s why you can’t tell me not to swear,” Yujin says dryly.

A few minutes later, Hanbin steps through the door, having just got out of dance class.
Naturally, upon seeing his favourite dongsaengs here, he invites them to stay for dinner.

“Will Zhang Hao be back soon too?” Ricky asks, as Hanbin starts clattering around the
kitchen, slamming pots and pans around. Gyuvin gets up and tries to help but Hanbin forces
him to sit back down. He doesn’t mess around when it comes to hospitality.

“He may or may not be eating out,” Hanbin says, slamming the lid of the rice cooker shut
with more force than necessary. “Ordering takeout, or he might decide to have ramen for
dinner.”

“This is really getting ridiculous,” Gyuvin says, sounding pained on Hanbin’s behalf. While
Gyuvin loves both of his hyungs, Ricky knows Hanbin is like Gyuvin’s literal brother. His
natural instinct makes him swerve to Hanbin’s side a little more. “You guys should kiss and
make up already.”
Anyway, all’s fair in love and war. Zhang Hao is usually more reasonable than this and Ricky
wonders if a talking-to in Chinese might get him to come to his senses.

Hanbin’s cooking curry and eventually, Gyuvin strong-arms Hanbin into letting him help
chop and peel the vegetables. Hanbin’s clearly trying to put on his best face for Yujin, but the
falling out with Zhang Hao is clearly weighing on his mind. He’s a little distracted and
almost burns the chicken and keeps sighing for no discernible reason.

In the meantime, Ricky’s phone pings as he’s scrolling through Tiktok, with a notification
from the Best Couple Kakaotalk group chat.

The results of Round 2 are now out! Click the link to check who’s still in the running for the
Best Couple of The Year!

Ricky is on it instantly.

“Gyuvin,” he calls, “The results are out!”

Hanbin also whips round in alarm.

Ricky starts scrolling. The page starts with second last place. It looks like Seunghan and
Sohee had made it through. He still doesn’t see him and Gyuvin’s name though, even though
they’ve now reached tenth place.

Ricky’s heart sinks. Are they saying goodbye to that free holiday? He’s actually going to
have to go through with his vow to murder Gyuvin if they lose. Ricky had been hoping he
wouldn’t have to act on it, but even as he keeps scrolling to fifth place – where Zhang Hao
and Hanbin have placed, his heart continues to plummet down into the depths of his stomach.

“Hanbin-hyung, you and Zhang Hao have made it, you’re fifth place,” Ricky announces,
trying not to let the disappointment creep into his voice. It’s so over. Him and Gyuvin are
done with the competition.

“You haven’t seen our name yet?” Gyuvin says in concern. He stops stirring the curry and
comes over to Ricky, peering over his shoulder. He sees Ricky’s poorly concealed expression
of dismay.

“Hey, don’t lose hope,” Gyuvin says and sits down beside him, lacing their fingers together.
Yujin glares at them from the kitchen table, where he’s obediently doing his homework.

Ricky keeps scrolling. Fourth place is Minho and Jisung. Third place is Jimin and Minjeong.
Revealed side by side are first and second place. First place has gone to Kun and Ten and
second place to…to Ricky and Gyuvin.

Ricky drops his phone in shock. Gyuvin catches it with his quick reflexes and reads the
feedback given to them by the judges.

“An intriguingly unorthodox combination of flavours, which worked out in their favour. A
complex palate was needed to achieve this balance of flavours. Light, airy cake, although a
tad too sweet. Overall, a good effort.” Gyuvin reads aloud in disbelief. Hanbin rushes over to
them too.

“You two came second?!” he says, equally astonished.

Ricky is slack-jawed, still holding onto Gyuvin’s hand. There’s just no way the ingredients
him and Gyuvin threw into the cake on a whim resulted in some avant-garde culinary
masterpiece.

“We did it!” Gyuvin cries, the first one of them to break out of their reverie and throws his
arms around Ricky. “I told you the bacon was a good idea!”

“I can’t believe the judge liked that over our Earl Grey lemon cake,” Hanbin says mournfully.
“Did they make Matthew the judge or something?”

Somewhere in the distance, Seok Matthew lets out a sneeze.

That’s honestly what Ricky is thinking too. He can’t believe their rank is so high. It has to be
rigged. It totally could be. Ricky’s almost got 100k new followers on Instagram from the
show alone.

“I think the judge just has good taste,” Gyuvin insists haughtily. “Me and Ricky make an
excellent team.”

“I think it’s rigged,” Ricky admits, much to Gyuvin’s chagrin. There’s the sound of the door
opening. “But I’m not complaining.”

It could even be possible that Gunwook has a hand in this, all part of his dastardly scheming.

“Complaining about what?” Zhang Hao’s voice rings out from the corridor. “Who’s
complaining?”

He already sounds ready to fight, with Hanbin most likely.

Ricky, Gyuvin and Yujin collectively slap a hand to their forehead.

Zhang Hao strides into the kitchen, already going down the warpath, then halts in his tracks
when he sees Gyuvin and Ricky still shell-shocked by the outcome of the second round.

“Having dinner without me?” he says, unable to keep the pout of his voice.

Ricky watches a vein bulge in Hanbin’s temple. Uh-oh.

“I’m getting dinner ready,” Hanbin stresses calmly but Ricky can hear the undercurrent of
frustration. “I didn’t know when you would come home. Let’s not fight, please.”

“Zhang Hao, let’s talk,” Ricky says bluntly in Chinese, looking up at his senior sternly. In a
manner that is rather uncharacteristic of him, Ricky gets up swiftly and tugs Zhang Hao by
the arm into the nearest room, which happens to be him and Hanbin’s.
“What is it, Ricky?” Zhang Hao says, thinking it’s something serious. He sits Ricky down
and snuggles beside him, already speaking in his parental voice.

“Well first of all, we both made it past the second round of the contest,” Ricky says, hoping
to remind Zhang Hao that him and Hanbin are literally the Best Couple.

“Psh, of course, we did,” Zhang Hao dismisses easily. “It’s all because I listened to Hanbin so
well.”

“About that, ge,” Ricky hesitates, thinking of how to continue. He even threw a ‘ge’ in to
soften Zhang Hao up. “Are you guys fighting?”

“Fighting?” Zhang Hao says incredulously, raising both eyebrows. “No, no, of course not!
Everything is fine!” There’s a note of hysteria present in his tone.

“Is it?” Ricky deadpans. He can hear the clattering of bowls and cutlery in the kitchen. They
must be setting the table now. Ricky can do it. He’ll resolve this fight before dinner gets cold.

“Of course!” Zhang Hao says, a glimmer of madness in his eyes. “I’m just not allowed to
cook in this house anymore, because I apparently…lack any sort of culinary talent.”

“Uh-huh,” Ricky says, signalling for Zhang Hao to continue. Zhang Hao turns to Ricky,
clearly feeling torn about confiding in him. Ricky blinks slowly at him and stays silent.

A few seconds pass and the silence successfully breaks Zhang Hao.

“Keep this between just you and me, Quanrui, okay?” Zhang Hao says and purses his lips. “I
feel so humiliated. I feel awful! All this time, I was trying my best to do something for…for
my family!”

It kinda hits like a punch to the gut to hear Zhang Hao call Hanbin and Yujin his family.
Ricky had been prepared to chastise Zhang Hao a little if needed but he can’t. Not when his
Hao-ge looks so devastated.

It sounds like a silly little fight on paper, but now Ricky looks at the situation, it seems to go
much deeper.

They all love each other too much, Ricky thinks fondly.

“I was so happy when Hanbin and Yujin said my food was good,” Zhang Hao continues, and
he lets out a sniffle. Ricky isn’t alarmed by this, Zhang Hao is a crybaby. “And then I find out
all this time, they’ve only been pretending to spare my feelings and I’ve actually been
making them miserable every time I cook.”

Ricky nods and very gently, offers a hand to Zhang Hao who grabs on immediately. Ricky
doesn’t normally do this but Zhang Hao is – well, different. Special enough to get privileges
Ricky doesn’t grant to anyone, except maybe his sister.

“I feel so frustrated that neither of them was comfortable enough to just tell me I can’t cook.
Instead they suffered and bit their tongue just for me. I would never want them to do that for
me.” Zhang Hao says, and that’s the crux of the issue. Ricky can see where he’s coming
from, but he desperately wants them to stop fighting too.

“They had good intentions,” Ricky starts, but Zhang Hao beats him to it.

“They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions,” he retorts darkly. “I just feel so
mad – what if they never told me? What if Hanbin never worked up the courage to just tell
me? I mean, Quanrui, where’s the trust? I thought we could tell each other anything?”

“I mean, Hanbin-hyung did tell you…eventually,” Ricky says. “And I think he’s really sorry.
I think you were so happy and he just couldn’t bring himself to ruin that. And it just kept
going from there.”

“Ah, Quanrui, you’re all grown up now. Look at you giving advice to your da-ge.” Zhang
Hao says, gripping his hand harder. He’s got a claw-like grip that Ricky tries not to squirm
away from as his nails dig into the tender flesh of Ricky's wrist. For the sake of the mood, he
goes for a bashful look and hopes it doesn’t come off as a grimace. “You’re right, I should
just get over it.”

“No, I don’t want to invalidate your feelings or anything,” Ricky says hastily. “But well,
don’t tell anyone I mentioned this, but Yujin's kinda upset because he thinks you’re mad at
him. I think you might have said some things you didn’t mean?”

Zhang Hao’s face pales.

“Yujinnie thinks I’m mad at him?”

“Ssh!” Ricky hisses, looking at the door. It sounds like dinner has started without them,
Gyuvin’s probably figured out what Ricky is doing and is covering his ass. “Could you say it
a little louder?”

Hanbin would be mortified if he knew Ricky was interfering in their relationship. They’re
trying to save his pride as their hyung too.

“Hey, we’re speaking Chinese,” Zhang Hao reassures him.

“Yujin knows his name in Chinese, idiot,” Ricky grumbles and the insult slips out just like
that. “Shit, sorry.”

“Hit me while I’m down, why don’t you?”

“I’m awfully sorry, my favourite ge in the whole entire world.”

“I’ll let it slide this one time, you cheeky brat.” Zhang Hao says gracefully. “I’ll go
apologise.”

He looks like he’s made his mind up now. Yujin was definitely the nail in the coffin for him.
His sword and shield have both been tossed aside.
“Do you and Gyuvin ever fight like this?” Zhang Hao says suddenly, catching Ricky off-
guard.

“What do you mean- oh, uh, all the time,” Ricky says, hoping Zhang Hao doesn’t notice his
slip. Him and Gyuvin haven’t had many big fights, but they do constantly bicker then sulk for
a bit before making up with each other. “I, um, guess we’ve been doing okay. He’s…”

Ricky’s mind flashes back to Gyuvin’s hands all over him.

“He’s treating me well,” Ricky manages to say. “You don’t need to worry at all.”

Zhang Hao lets out a happy sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad,” Zhang Hao says, with a big watery smile and takes both of Ricky’s hands in
his own. “I’m really rooting for you two, you know? I always have been. I think you’re
destined for each other.”

“That’s you and Hanbin-hyung,” Ricky tries to joke, but it comes out too serious. He feels
wave after wave of guilt crash over him for lying to Zhang Hao, who was already upset over
being lied to in order to keep him happy. And here Ricky is, doing the exact same thing.

He doesn’t have the heart to imagine how Zhang Hao will feel when him and Gyuvin end
their fake relationship and inevitably break up.

Not for the first time, serious doubts about what him and Gyuvin are doing creep into his
mind.

“Of course, we’re soulmates,” Zhang Hao says. “You weren’t worried that a fight like this
would do anything, were you? I was planning on forgiving him today or tomorrow anyway.”

Ricky deflates. In the end, he hadn’t really done that much to help them.

“Learn from this though, young Ricky,” Zhang Hao tells him solemnly. “Don’t keep things to
yourself for too long. It’ll always blow up in your face in the end.”

Ricky doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s pretty much doing the exact opposite.

“Of course,” he agrees and pats Zhang Hao on the back.

Back in the dining room, Hanbin looks up cautiously at Zhang Hao, as if he’s a bomb that’ll
explode any moment.

“Yujin, come here.” Zhang Hao holds his arms out. “I could never be mad at you, you silly-
billy.”

Yujin mutters something that sounds an awful lot like 'Ricky-hyung pabo', but he runs up to
Zhang Hao for a big hug.

Hanbin hovers around the kitchen counter, eyes darting around the room. He’s wondering if
Zhang Hao's gonna skip over his presence.
“You too, idiot!” Zhang Hao says. “Come here.”

Ricky silently sidles next to Gyuvin to watch them all hug. Yujin lets out a muffled groan as
he’s squished between the two.

“They’re cute, aren’t they?” Ricky says and it’s only because of his deep talk with Zhang Hao
and all this familial love floating around, okay? Ricky reaches out to hold Gyuvin’s hand,
their shoulders nudging. “They’re really a family.”

“I want something like that in the future,” Gyuvin murmurs, freeing his hand from Ricky’s
grip to wrap his arm around Ricky’s waist instead. “We could.”

“Of course we can,” Ricky agrees. “I’m sure you’ll have loads of kids when you get
married.”

Gyuvin’s always been good with kids. Ricky can’t imagine him with anything but a big
family.

“No, I mean with y-”

“You guys come here too!” Hanbin shouts. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is ruffled but
he looks invigorated, like a new man. “You can't escape the hug!”

“But can I?” Yujin groans, trying to free himself to no avail.

There’s a new problem on the horizon though. Gyuvin’s sexuality crisis. He’s refusing to
admit it outright, but Ricky can read the lines. Gyuvin is definitely questioning something
and he seems to be using Ricky to figure it out.

That’s why they’ve been doing...that. Why Gyuvin initiated all that.

It starts when Ricky has just got out the shower and is trying to read a book. It’s a rare event
(unfortunately), but a new fashion book had caught his eye. It’s useful towards his degree
anyway. Ricky will count it as studying.

Gyuvin had been singing to the newest Ateez eong in the shower and Ricky had
absentmindedly noted the sounds of the shower fading. Then the twist of his doorknob and
Gyuvin stepping in, in a shorts and t-shirt.

Nothing could have prepared Ricky for what comes out of Gyuvin’s mouth next.

“This is gonna sound weird-”

“It already does.” Ricky deadpans.

“-but can I look at your dick?”

“Excuse me?!”

Ricky knows they’re fake dating. But this veers too much into the grey area of things Ricky
refuses to think about.

“Can I ask why?”

“Just out of curiosity,” Gyuvin shrugs.

Ricky scans his face with great suspicion. Gyuvin cant wait possibly be drunk or high, can
he? Would he go this far for dare?

“And why are you... suddenly curious?”

“You know why,” Gyuvin says, with great emphasis on the last word. “I’ve already seen it
and...and stuff, but not up close, like, properly. I’ve never really looked at another guy’s. You
know.”

“Gyuvin, you can just tell me if you think you might be into guys,” Ricky says, crossing his
arms. He crosses his legs too, covering his crotch, already feeling wary. “I’m literally gay,
I’m not gonna judge.”

“I’m not!” Gyuvin denies vehemently, standing awkwardly by the door. “I just want to have a
look. Compare with my own. Just curiosity between bros, y'know?”

And there’s the magic word. Like Pavlov's dog, Ricky’s mind enters a blissful state of
cognitive dissonance.

“Fine, whatever.” Ricky says irritably. He wriggles his pyjama bottoms down his hips, so his
underwear is out. “Have a peek till you’re satisfied.”

“Cheers,” Gyuvin says, swinging a long leg over onto the bed. He lies flat on his stomach
between Ricky’s legs. The position is pretty suggestive, Ricky can’t ignore that. Neither can
his dick.

“Don’t get in the way of my reading though.” Ricky emphasises, as if he hasn’t been reading
the same sentence over and over since Gyuvin got on the bed.

He’ll actually get through this chapter before he sleeps, he swears on it.

Being cool meant a certain irony, being outside of mainstream society and viewing it with a
certain amount of suspicion...

Warm fingertips touch his waistband and Ricky loses focus. Gyuvin doesn’t pull it the whole
way down but enough for Ricky’s flaccid dick to flop out.

Ricky resumes reading, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on his dick. His dick is great. As
pretty as him He’s been told that several times. But usually he isn’t flaccid.
Nice people were not cool. Nice people did not have tattoos and piercings.

He’s not gonna stay flaccid for long. He hears Gyuvin suck in a breath through his teeth.

“Nice.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He feels the ghost of Gyuvin’s fingers against him. Is he measuring Ricky’s size with his
fingers or something to compare to his own? As a kind of ego boost, perhaps?

Nice people were not cool.

Oh shit, he’s already read that part.

“Are you getting hard, Kim Ricky?”

Ricky resolutely ignores him, despite the fact he can feel the tickle of Gyuvin’s breath. Why
is he breathing on Ricky’s dick, for fuck's sake?

It’s unsexy, it’s weird and somehow not awkward, but somehow Ricky is half-mast now.

Now, almost everyone who thinks he or she is cool or “different” has a tattoo, but now it’s
not cool, because it is mainstream.

The book is also starting to annoy Ricky. It’s starting to feel like a personal attack on his
seventeen-year-old self.

Tattoos are still cool, fuck you author.

“You are hard,” Gyuvin marvels and pokes a finger at Ricky’s tip. “See, it’s kinda wet here.”

-now it’s not cool -now it’s not cool -now

“I thought you weren’t gonna touch!” Ricky explodes, slamming his book down. He can’t
read any longer. “Of course, I’m gonna get hard if you try to freaking fondle me.”

Gyuvin looks up at him, not at all apologetic, blinking innocently at him. Shameless. Ricky
had thought he’d be more shy about all this. Well, Ricky’s glad Gyuvin feels safe enough
with Ricky to figure out whatever he has going on. It’s not like he has anyone else to go to, in
all fairness. They are ‘dating’, after all.

“Do you get hard if anyone touches you then?” Gyuvin says and he wraps his fingers around
Ricky. Dear sweet Jesus. Ricky squeezes his eyes shut. Why does this keep happening?
Always some variation of Gyuvin and his hand on Ricky’s dick.

“Of course not,” Ricky replies. Not even the prettiest girl he’d ever met in high school and
her equally gorgeous boobs had done anything for him. Then he realises he’s walked right
into Gyuvin’s trap.
It’s not his fault. Who can think straight (ha!) when they’re getting jerked off by someone?
It’s because Gyuvin is a guy too, and Ricky’s brain likes that.

“It’s not because of you,” Ricky says. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Would you do this with Gunwook then?”

Ricky’s eyes fly open immediately in revulsion and he pins Gyuvin with a glare.

“Can you just…stop talking?” he hisses. “And just…” Get on with it. Ricky makes a crude
hand gesture that delivers the message very clearly.

“All you had to do was ask,” Gyuvin says cheekily and doubles the speed his hand is moving
at.

Ricky’s book lies forgotten on the bed till the next morning.

At Gunwook’s advice on what the next round will be on, Ricky decides to become a gym bro.

“My ever-reliable source has given me a vital piece of information,” Gunwook says, hitching
his glasses up his nose with two fingers. All he needs is the light to reflect off the lenses in a
brilliant flash and boom, he’s an anime Megane-kun. Ricky only knows that because he’s a
fellow weeb.

“Do we have to have meetings like this?” Gyuvin complains.

Gunwook’s forced them to sit around the dining table with the lights dimmed, and the blinds
have been shut. Three tea lights left over from Christmas are flickering at the centre of the
table. It’s very reminiscent of a séance.

“My plan, my rules,” Gunwook declares. “From what I have heard, the next round will test
physical strength and endurance. I have faith in Gyuvin on that front but Ricky, well.”

“Who won the three-legged race?” Ricky says.

“I won’t say exactly what you guys have to do, or it might look suspicious if you’re too good
at it,” Gunwook explains. “But you’re going to need to work on your balance, core strength
and flexibility.”

“I do that at dance,” Gyuvin says with a shrug. “And at the gym.”

The last thing Ricky wants is to work on any of that. His flexibility is great though. He can
almost do the splits. And he’d managed to hobble around pretty well that one time his sister
had got him to try her platform heels.
It’s just the core strength. Ricky can barely plank for one minute.

“You better do your part then, Ricky.” Gyuvin says superciliously. “We’ve come so far in this
competition. It would be a shame to drop out now.”

Ricky kicks him under the table, catching him right on the shin.

“Also, this round will take the number of couples from thirty to twenty,” Gunwook taps the
bullet point on his Powerpoint presentation that no one is paying attention to. Gyuvin is too
busy rubbing his leg. “That’s a third of the contestants getting eliminated.”

“I can work out basic proportions, yes,” Ricky snipes, still feeling on edge from Gyuvin’s
comment.

“Those are steel-toed boots!” Gyuvin interrupts. “What if I can’t compete in the next round
now?”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“I’m your baby-”

“QUIET!” Gunwook bellows, so loud that the candles blow out with the gust of air he
produces. The entire kitchen plunges into darkness.

“Fine, I’ll become a gym bro,” Ricky says, in lieu of a peace offering.

One of the tea lights flicker back on, illuminating Gunwook’s face from underneath in a
sinister glow.

“That’s my boy.”

When it comes to the gym, who else is their to turn to, except their resident gym rat
Matthew?

“Don’t call me a rat,” Matthew whines. “Or you can try and navigate the machines by
yourself.”

Matthew, their resident gymbro, has kindly volunteered to show Ricky around the gym.
Apparently, it’s best to do combination exercises to improve his strength, not just sit-ups,
crunches and planks.

Ricky had tried to do one home pilates video and had been left feeling like he’d just
completed marine-level military training. He has no idea why there’s a pink pilates princess
aesthetic. It feels more like he’s going to war.
Ricky’s all ready to go, in his gym gear and massive water bottle. It’s an ungodly hour right
now, the clock having just hit seven in the morning.

That was the sacrifice Ricky had to make in exchange for Matthew showing him around. As
well as treating him to breakfast afterwards.

Matthew’s got a thin jacket zipped right up to the collar now, but Ricky’s certain that once the
workout gets more intense, Matthew’s gonna be in his usual black tank top. Ricky has seen
those outrageous muscles of his.

They start with a quick warm-up and Matthew takes him through a series of dynamic
stretches before telling Ricky to have a quick jog on the treadmill if he wants. Ricky does not
want. He sets it to a high tempo walk and sets off, while Matthew says he’s going to fill a
water bottle. Ricky will increase the speed to a jog. Eventually. He has to take baby steps
after all.

From his vantage point on the treadmill, Ricky can see most of the gym.

He watches Matthew walk over to the water station and unscrew his waterbottle, when
Gunwook comes down the stairs, from where the changing rooms are. He’s already in that
black tank top of his. It’s Gunwook’s only gym outfit and he wears it religiously. Ricky’s had
a sneak peek in his wardrobe and there’s about five of them.

He must be following in Matthew’s footsteps then. Gunwook’s gym journey started a few
months ago and while he does lose Ricky when he starts talking about random muscles and
exercises, at least they haven’t lost Gunwook to the typical gymbro diet of chicken breast,
broccoli and rice diet, although Gunwook does count his macros now.

Gyuvin’s also been going to the gym for a while, but he’s not as obsessed as Gunwook with
lifting higher weights and doing reps. It’s mostly just for his overall health. Gyuvin says he
doesn’t have abs. Ricky had told him he didn’t need them. His face is enough as it is. Abs
would only be a bonus, Ricky supposes. It’s not something Ricky finds to be a necessity.

Matthew’s now engaged in conversation with Gunwook. They’re standing quite close
together and Ricky narrows his eyes as Gunwook places a hand on Matthew’s bicep, just over
his tattoo. He didn’t know Gunwook knew Matthew like that.

Curiosity sated, Ricky pops off the treadmill and ironically, jogs over to where the pair of
them are. Maybe Ricky can become a real gym bro. He just needs the right kind of
motivation.

“Gunook!” Ricky chirps, skidding to a halt behind him. “Didn’t expect to see you here!”

“And I did not ever think I’d see you here,” Gunwook replies. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

“It’s May,” Matthew chips in, but he smiles indulgently at Gunwook.

“What were you guys talking about?” Ricky drawls, leaning against the wall. “Ooh,
flavoured water!”
Next to the plain old water fountain is another drinks dispenser, some fancy electrolyte-
replenishing thirst-quenching sports drink that comes in different flavours.

Ricky punches in his code and frowns at the selection of flavours. There’s no strawberry. The
closest he gets to that is ‘summer fruits’.

“Honestly, they all taste like ass,” Gunwook informs him. “Except the coconut and pineapple
one. And make sure you make it extra strong. Otherwise it just tastes like water with a
coconut floating inside it.”

“Like a forgotten memory,” Matthew adds.

Gunwook laughs way too hard and way too loud at this.

Ricky’s lip doesn’t even twitch.

“You and Matthew seem very friendly,” Ricky decides to point out, just to test the waters.

“Yeah, we’re gym buddies,” Gunwook says with a shrug. “We spot each other a lot when we
bench.”

“We’ve been seeing each other a lot too,” Matthew says with a big toothy smile.

Hook, line and sinker. He doesn’t miss the way Gunwook panicks.

“Oh?” Ricky says, reeling Matthew in. He selects the coconut and pineapple flavour and
watches the machine start to fill his bottle. “When was that?”

“I’ve gotta go get started,” Gunwook interrupts, red at the ears. “Nice seeing you two
around!”

“Always nice seeing you,” Matthew says and holds his arms out with a pout that matches
Zhang Hao’s in force and lethality. “But where’s my hug?”

Ricky’s grin could rival that of a great white’s. Oh, Park Gunwook. You can try to run and
run. But you can’t hide. The jig is up. It’s officially over.

For once, Park Gunwook: 1000, Ricky: 1.

He can see the conflict in Gunwook’s eyes, the battle between giving Matthew what he wants
and betraying his secret to Ricky.

“Fine,” Matthew says with a humph.

“Hey, hey, wait!” Gunwook says and Ricky stifles a snort behind his hand as Gunwook wraps
his arms around Matthew, almost picking him up. “There, happy?”

“Very,” Matthew says. “C’mon, Ricky. I want to see what your max rep is on the bench
press.”
 That sounds like medieval torture to Ricky but he obediently follows Matthew into the
weights section. He’s glad he’s got someone with him, because it looks incredibly
intimidating. All these jacked dudes huffing and panting, lifting weights that are probably
double Ricky’s own bodyweight.

“So, you and Gunwook, huh?” Ricky can’t resist mentioning. He slides onto the bench on his
back. “How long has that been going on?”

“What, our friendship?” Matthew says, oblivious. “Quite a while.”

He shows Ricky where to grip the bar.

“I’ve got five kilos on either side of the bar so we can start with thirty,” Matthew says, in
gym mode. “Try giving that a go.”

Ricky makes a valiant attempt. He manages to lift thirty and bring it down to his chest but
that’s where it all goes wrong. He cannot for the life of him raise his arms.

“Matthew,” Ricky grunts, sighing in relief when Matthew easily lifts the bar off him with one
hand.

“Maybe we should just try the bar,” Matthew says with a frown. He takes off the weights
from both sides.

If Ricky can’t even bench the bar, he’s actually going to kill himself.

“Do you hug Gunwook a lot?” Ricky says. This time he succeeds in lifting the bar and feels
slightly proud of himself. Until Matthew tells him that it’s below the average for even an
untrained woman to bench.

“Oh, Gunwook is perfect to hug,” Matthew says, while loading more weights back onto the
bar. They’re going to give twenty-five kilos a go now. “He says we have to hug every day.”

Ricky is in the middle of his attempt at twenty-five when Matthew says this and promptly
loses his grip on the bar.

“Wait-” Matthew finally realises he’s just put his foot in his mouth.

“Matthew,” Ricky croaks, trying to lift the bar. He can, Ricky knows he can but he’s just
shocked that his hypothesis is one hundred percent correct now.

“I got you, I got you,” Matthew says frantically and relieves the weight on Ricky’s chest.
“Um, oops.”

“Explain,” Ricky commands. “Now.”

Chapter End Notes

yup. it's maetgeon...
who managed to predict it...? the clues have been there...the tank top, gunwook's gym
obsession. i have been hinting...i dont know if the more eagle-eyed readers have
suspected this...?

i didnt expect the whole haobin fight and make-up thing to happen either but it did and
wow i just love yuehuaz family so bad. and yeah. i always plan my chapter but
something unplanned sneaks in every time.

comments very appreciated and love u all :D

besthonestliar x
 Unfolding the Gunwook Lore
Chapter Summary

Gunwook is no longer allowed to remain cool and mysterious...

Chapter Notes

look at me providing almost fortnightly updates! (the next update is probably gonna be
slow now im not on holiday and back in the dungeon known as medical school)

if this chapter doesn't make much sense its probably bc ive been slightly loopy for the
past few weeks. on that yaoi cocaine, as they say.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Ricky had not expected Matthew to turn his need for information into motivation for Ricky to
do a full workout.

“I’ll explain after you do a set of eight,” Matthew says with an evil grin. “I know you’ve got
it in those skinny little arms of yours.”

Ricky prefers to call them slender. He hadn’t even been able to protest because he’s already
lifted the barbell off the hook, transferring the weight onto the two threads otherwise known
as Ricky’s biceps.

He’s properly focused now, driven by a burning desire to know about Park Gunwook’s
personal life.

Oh God, Ricky thinks. He’s running on yaoi power.

His gym motivation can be simplified to the urge to know if two men kiss or not.

He’s done with the first set before he knows it. Ricky completes it with ease.

Matthew gives him a thumbs up and beckons Ricky off the bench.

“So...” Ricky prompts.

“Rest up, I’ll do my set now,” Matthew instructs firmly. Ricky watches in awe as Matthew
adds thirty kilos to each side of the bar, making it a whopping eighty kilos. That’s triple what
Ricky’s doing.
“Wait, what do you mean?”

Matthew can’t answer, he’s too busy huffing and grunting with exertion.

“You didn’t think one set was all we were going to do, did you?” Matthew pants. His
forehead is shining with sweat. “It’s time for set two!”

At the end of set two, Ricky realises with a sinking heart that there’s a set three.

“How many freaking sets are there?” Ricky grits out. His arms are heavy and burning like
they’ve never done before.

“Four,” Matthew says with a shrug. Ricky doesn’t miss the evil smile. “One more to go.”

They alternate through the sets and finally, Ricky is free from the fucking bench press.

How the hell was he sweating like he’d been running for miles from lifting his arms up and
down?

“Are we done...?” Rickys arms swing limply to and fro as he walks, with their own free will.

“Oh no,” Matthew says. “We’re doing full body today. I’ll show you how to deadlift.”

There’s more?!

“Give me something,” Ricky pleads. “What’s your relationship with Gunwook? When did it
start?”

“Since the party.” Matthew grants him. “I can’t tell you everything just like this. You need to
unlock the lore with every gym session you do.”

“You can’t just...paywall your life with a gym subscription!” Ricky says, absolutely aghast.
“Just...tell me?”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Matthew says grandly. And then he makes Ricky deadlift four
sets of eight. Even if Ricky is just practicing his forma and technique with the bar, his thighs
still burn with pain.

He’s got the spark of a madman. Just like Gunwook, Ricky realises with faint horror. How
hadn’t he seen it coming?

Gunwook and Matthew are both competitive, driven, overachievers. Gunwook is more subtle
and conniving about it whereas Matthew throws everything to the winds and takes the
plunge.

Gunwook also loves cute things. He’s got a display of cute little figurines in his rooms and a
big pile of plushies that he hugs in bed. Matthew is easily a suitable real-life alternative. He's
even a little squeaky.
Matthew...well Ricky doesn’t know Matthew’s taste to be exact but he knows that something
unspeakable had gone down between Jiwoong, Matthew and Taerae that is only known
between the three of them. Even Zhang Hao and Hanbin aren’t privy to that knowledge.

Either way, it’s clear as day Gunwook is fucking whipped.

Now, not only are Ricky’s arms dead but his legs too.

“Matthew, please, I can’t do anymore.” Ricky is this close to begging on his hands and knees.
“Why do people do this to themselves?”

“Well, it not only improves your bone health and overall well-being, it also makes me look
hot as fuck,” Matthew says, flexing at him. “Why are you doing this to yourself then?”

The wall of the gym appears to tilt sideways. Ricky blinks and it focuses again.

“Why am I doing this?” Ricky asks himself. For Gyuvin. To win this stupid couple contest so
we can go on holiday together.

“For Gyuvin,” Ricky answers honestly.

“What, he’s not satisfied with your body?” Matthew raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t he completely
obsessed with you?”

Well, recently it’s Ricky’s dick that he’s been obsessed with.

“Don’t change your body for another guy, bro!” Matthew says, while dragging him towards
another machine.

Bro.

Ricky’s gut clenches with heat subconsciously.

“No, I just promised him I’d improve my overall health,” Ricky blags on the spot, and
watches Matthew’s gaze relax. “I should exercise more anyway. What’s this?”

“Pull-up bar,” Matthew answers. “Just see if you can do one. If not, just hang there for as
long as you can. I’ll teach you scapula pull-ups.”

Ricky’s not sure how he’s meant to do anything with his hands twitching limply by his sides
but he’ll give it a go.

“I’ll catch you if you fall,” Matthew reassures him.

Ricky takes a deep breath and grasps the handles of the bar.

“Very romantic of you, Mashu.”

He lasts all of thirty seconds. And of course Matthew makes him do it four times. He literally
has to piggyback Ricky into a Western breakfast café of their choice.
“Are you guys going out?” Ricky demands. He’d ordered a strawberry milkshake and
waffles, while Matthew had opted for a savoury breakfast. A full fry-up. “Seok Matthew. Do
you want me to hear it from you or Gunwook?”

Ricky doesn’t add that he’s going to interrogate Gunwook anyway. Maybe he’ll threaten his
best friend’s life or something. Hold his plushies for ransom. Gyuvin will only be too eager to
help.

“Fine,” Matthew acquiesces, more easily than Ricky expected. To be fair, Ricky did complete
the most gruelling workout of his entire life for this tidbit of information. It had better be
juicy enough to attract a horde of bees. “We fucked after the party.”

Ricky’s fork clatters loudly on the table, startling the nearby diners. Matthew sure didn't
disappoint when it came to doing crazy things. His whole life was like one massive sitcom.
But Gunwook? No way.

“Are you sure it wasn't someone else?” Their Gunwook, hooking up with someone at a party?

“I’m pretty sure it was him, yeah.” Matthew levels Ricky with a flat stare. "I might be a slut
but I remember the person the dick in my ass was attached to."

"I didn't mean it like that, Mashu." Ricky belatedly realises he had just implied Matthew has
sex with so many people that he can't remember clearly who is who. "I'm just surprised. That
it's Gunwook."

"What, that he'd go for me?" Matthew's getting back at Ricky and making him sweat a little
for his comment. Fair enough.

"No, that he'd do something like that."

"Like what? What are you implying?"

They bicker like that for a few minutes. Matthew knows perfectly well what Ricky means.
Not that Matthew's a player or anything. Gunwook is just the epitome of a good kid, a
teacher's pet. A responsible drinker. He's quite risk-averse. Ricky wonders what happened
that night to lead to this particular series of events.

“I can’t believe Gunwook was getting his dick wet while Gyuvin and I were worrying over
Yujin’s life at the hospital,” Ricky says thoughtfully, after a long slurp of his milkshake. “And
you too!”

“It wasn’t right after!” Matthew denies vehemently. “We just stayed together and then we fell
asleep after hearing from Jiwoon-hyung that Yujin was alright. And then the next morning-”

Matthew goes bright red and doesn’t finish his sentence.

“I get the idea.” Ricky doesn’t particularly want to think about Gunwook and Matthew going
at it either. “Is it official now?”

Matthew avoids his gaze and digs into his fry-up with renewed gusto.
“Oh, Matthew...” Ricky says sympathetically. “Do you want me to have a word with him?”

“No, no, it’s not him, it’s me.” Matthew says quickly. “Let’s retire this topic for today. I’ll tell
you the next time you come to the gym with me.”

Ricky doesn’t know if there’ll be a next time. He heads home for a shower (he’s not stepping
foot into a manky gym shower and risking athlete’s foot), and other than a slight heaviness to
his limbs afterwards, Ricky is in surprisingly decent shape.

His plan for the rest of the day is to wash up and then head to the studio to work on his piece.
The day passes uneventfully and inspiration strikes. Ricky gets absorbed into his canvas and
by the time he looks up at the clock, it’s well past seven.

When he gets back home, it’s eight. Gyuvin is in the living room and bounds over to the door
as Ricky comes in, lolloping like a large dog.

“Why are you so late home today?” He whines. He insists on helping Ricky out his coat and
shoes, then traps him in a hug. “Missed you.”

“Get off,” Ricky says, pushing at him half-heartedly. His heart softens though. It’s nice to
have someone welcome him home like this, waiting on him.

“Say it,” Gyuvin grumbles in his ear. “Then I’ll let go.”

He purposely digs his chin into the crevice of Ricky’s shoulder, till it’s painful.

“I didn’t miss you though,” Ricky returns. “Do you want me to lie?”

It’s the truth. Ricky had only been thinking about his painting. Being in close proximity with
Gyuvin is also getting dangerous for him. He tries to will the blood in his body away from his
nether regions.

“Are you at least happy to see me?” Gyuvin’s being awfully persistent today.

“I’ll be happier if you let go.” Ricky feels Gyuvin’s arms tighten even further around his
torso. “Yes, whatever, I’m so happy to see you!”

He rubs his ribs ruefully, shooting a glare at Gyuvin, who wags his metaphorical tail.

A subtle scent of strawberries in the air catches his attention and Ricky follows the trail
through the living room to the kitchen. On the counter is Ricky’s favourite strawberry matcha
drink, accompanied by a strawberry matcha cream cake. It’s even from Ricky’s favourite
café, one that’s pricier than average.
“Gyuvin?” Ricky enquires, as Gyuvin lollops into the kitchen behind him, and latches onto
Ricky’s back like a limpet. “Wow, you really missed me that much? I might even call you
hyung!”

He might even voluntarily hug Gyuvin. To make Gyuvin happy, of course. Not for himself.
Look at his generosity, haha.

“Nope, not from me,” Gyuvin says and eyes the dessert with suspicion. “But it’s cute you
thought it would be! Haha!”

“Why would Gunwook treat me?” Ricky says, then a light bulb dings in his head. An image
of Matthew drizzling an obscene amount of maple syrup onto his pancakes at breakfast
comes to mind. He had obviously passed things onto Gunwook. “Oh, I see.”

He sits down and tucks into his sweet treat immediately. Damn, Ricky forgot he hadn’t had
dinner yet. The hunger suddenly makes itself known and Ricky finds himself digging in
ravenously, nearly forgetting to breathe and chew his cake.

“Why would he treat you?” Gyuvin asks, sitting down next to him and looking envious. “Can
I have a bite?”

Gunwook walks in to see Ricky rattling the metal spoon against Gyuvin's teeth as petty
revenge for Gyuvin stealing a mouthful.

“Not even gonna ask,” he says but gives Ricky a meaningful glance.

“I got the message,” Ricky drawls, giving Gunwook a thumbs up. “You don’t want me to tell
anyone about you and Matthew, right?”

Gunwook groans as Gyuvin flails backwards and falls off his chair with a nasty thud. Ricky
hopes he hasn’t hit his head. Eh. It wouldn’t make much of a difference anyway.

“I knew I should have waited to intercept you at the door. Stupid law society meetings!”
Gunwook bursts out, wringing his hands. “And Ricky, why do you have to be such an idiot
sometimes?”

“Oops?” Ricky says nonchalantly, making a poor attempt to play innocent. He really didn’t
mean to!

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Gyuvin yells, getting up and drawing himself to his full height. “You
and Matthew?! You guys have been keeping secrets from me?”

“Don’t tell him anything, please!” Gunwook begs, actually pleading in a rare occasion.
“Ricky, doesn’t our years-long bond mean anything to you?”

“Hey, don’t put me in such a tricky position!” Ricky says in alarm. “Can’t I just tell him?”

“Yeah, can’t he just tell me?” Gyuvin adds, crossing his arms in a huff. “It’s not nice to leave
me out.”
“I’m not staying for this discussion,” Gunwook cries, hurrying to the front door. He pulls on
his coat and shoes. “I’m going to Matthew’s. Ricky, you can deal with the moral conflict of
whether to betray me or not by yourself.”

The door slams ominously behind him. Ricky and Gyuvin also hear a distinctive groan of ‘oh
shit’ from Gunwook. Oh, it’s just started raining outside.

Gyuvin is nice enough to wait for Ricky to finish his cake and drink before he pounces. He
follows Ricky silently to his room and watches Ricky pretend to ignore him, changing from
his outdoor clothes into something more comfortable. Ricky then lies down on his bed,
crossing his legs. He needs to text his mum.

Almost predictably, Gyuvin jumps onto the bed too, sitting cross-legged at the end.

“Ricky,” Gyuvin whines. “What’s going on with Gunwook? Is Matthew his boyfriend?”

Ricky scrolls through his phone aimlessly. He will tell Gyuvin, eventually. Even if Gunwook
asked him not to. He snorts to himself. By throwing Ricky to the wolves (Gyuvin), Gunwook
was fully aware there was no way Ricky would be able to survive the night without Gyuvin
extracting the desired information from him.

Now it would just be a curious experiment of what Gyuvin would do to him.

“Why’re you laughing?” Gyuvin protests, tugging at Ricky’s legs and uncrossing them. “Tell
me, tell me, tell me!”

“Because you look funny,” Ricky says instantly.

“Haha, how clever of you, Kim Ricky.”

Gyuvin starts tugging at Ricky’s ankles, pulling Ricky down from his comfortable position
where his head was resting against the headboard.

“Matthew went to the gym with you, right? What happened there?” Gyuvin keeps at it with
the questions and pulls both of Ricky’s socks off and throws them onto the floor, just to be
annoying.

Ricky continues to ignore him. It’s fun. Gyuvin’s always riling Ricky up so it’s nice to get
some sweet revenge. He feels cool hands encircle both his ankles and almost jerks upright
when Gyuvin begins tickling away.

He clenches his teeth and continues to scroll through his messages. Most of his Instagram
DMs are from random people and he just marks them as read. If they’re annoying, they’re
getting deleted. Luckily for Ricky, he’s not particularly ticklish.

“Don’t ignore me, Ricky-yah!” Gyuvin stops tickling at Ricky’s legs and sits down, right on
Ricky’s belly. Gyuvin might be a skinny boy, but he’s a very large skinny boy.

Ricky lets out a winded groan, dropping his phone in surprise. It rolls out his hand and
annoyingly, disappears down the headboard. Great, he’s going to have to fish it from the gap
between the wall and bed later.

“I’m gonna throw up all that cake on you,” Ricky warns, trying to shoo Gyuvin away. “If you
don’t get off right this second-!”

Gyuvin obliges and shuffles backwards, his ass perched right on top of Ricky’s crotch.

“Tell me everything, don’t make me beg,” Gyuvin continues to beg. He sounds so silly.
“Look, I’m already beginning now.”

Gyuvin bounces up and down as he whines and side to side, all over Ricky’s junk. Blood
rapidly rushes down south and this time, no amount of willpower can get rid of his body’s
reaction to it. Is Gyuvin just playing around, or is he intentionally instigating something?

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you,” Ricky teases, feeling pleased when a steely glint appears in
Gyuvin’s eyes. The battle of wills is somewhat amusing him. That is, until Gyuvin finally
abandons all pretences and grinds his ass very obviously against Ricky.

“What the fuck, Gyuvin!”

“Will you tell me now?” Gyuvin says, rolling his hips languidly as he delivers wave after
wave of pleasant friction to Ricky Junior. “I think you want to.”

“Get off,” Ricky wheezes but all the fight’s been…ground out of him. Is Gyuvin-is he
attempting to seduce a confession from him? It had been all sorts of goofy, yet the sight of
Gyuvin towering above him, even in his silly t-shirt and ratty-tatty shorts, grinding away is
doing something to him. Maybe he enjoys it. Being under Gyuvin.

Now that is a train of thought he refuses to explore right now. He’s treading on dangerous
waters.

“When did it start, Ricky?” Gyuvin lowers his voice to barely more than a whisper, leaning
forward and placing his hands on Ricky’s chest for leverage. “When did it start between
Matthew and Gunwook?”

Ricky bucks against him, chasing his own release. He can’t think straight like this. He can
also see Gyuvin’s hard too, the front of his shorts tented.

“Let me come first,” Ricky says, to his utter mortification. Gyuvin stops moving
immediately.

“Oh, look who’s begging now?” Gyuvin says happily. “Now, answer the question, my dearest
Ricky!”

He gyrates his hips in a slow circle, making Ricky exhale with a sharp groan.

“The party,” Ricky manages to say, albeit shakily. “Matthew’s party. They fucked.”

“Very good,” Gyuvin says, rewarding Ricky with faster movement. “Give me something
more. There must be more.”
“It’s not official,” Ricky stutters, then lets out a yelp as the hands on his chest brush lightly
over his nipples. “I-think-something-is-stopping-them,”

“But what?” Gyuvin inquires. He sits back and wipes his forehead, which had been
dampening with sweat, with the hem of his t-shirt. Ricky gets a lovely view of Gyuvin’s
torso, all tapered waist and lean muscle.

“I don’t know,” Ricky sighs. “But Gunwookie is whipped.”

Gyuvin nods, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Anything else?”

“Nngh, I’ll tell you everything later if you hurry up and move!” Ricky spits at him, reaching
out and pulling Gyuvin down on top of him. He can feel Gyuvin hard against him and this
time they move in tandem, and both let out a groan.

“You look wrecked,” Gyuvin says, staring at Ricky. Ricky wonders exactly how wrecked he
looks for Gyuvin to be stare at him in a way that he can’t describe as anything but longing.
Hungry with the desire to eat Ricky.

Ricky bucks his hips up irritably. Somehow, it also pisses him off a little.

“Whose fault is that?” he snaps and watches Gyuvin squeeze his eyes shut as he gets a taste
of his own medicine.

“M’sorry, Ricky,” Gyuvin says. “I had to do what I had to do.”

It’s way more intimate like this, lying down together. Ricky realises they’ve never done
anything in bed before. It’d always been on one sofa or the other.

Gyuvin’s hair flops over his eyes and he pushes it backwards futilely, only for it to flop back
into its original position, a move that many girls seem to go crazy over. Ricky looks at his
thin, pink lips.

They’re dry again, the skin starting to peel. Ricky wants to moisten them. He wonders if
Gyuvin can feel the desire rolling off him in waves, if Ricky can successfully hide it from
him. Gyuvin can often read him like a book and at times, it feels like he stares right through
Ricky’s eyes, into his soul.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,” Ricky admits, dragging his gaze away from
Gyuvin’s lips with great effort. They’re just lying there, almost face to face, close enough for
Ricky to feel warm air ghost over his face with every breath Gyuvin takes. “Gunwook and
Matthew.”

“I thought he might have had something going on with Junhyeon,” Gyuvin confesses. “They
seemed very close.”

They’re finally at a standstill, a volatile truce that is likely to boil over any minute, given that
Ricky is still hard as a rock and can feel Gyuvin isn’t much different.
“Gunwook has always liked small, cute things.” Ricky says. “Matthew fits into that. Even if
he’s a gym rat.”

He expects Gyuvin to follow it with some other comment on their best friend’s new
relationship.

“I do too,” Gyuvin says instead, leaving Ricky baffled. “I like small, cute things.”

Well, yes, Ricky supposes, to an extent. Gyuvin loves little animals. Children too, even the
annoying kind with runny noses and hands that are permanently sticky, who don’t listen to
adults and scream too much. He likes cute little keychains and stickers, but so does Ricky.

But in a relationship? Ricky doesn’t know about that.

“Like your ex?” Ricky says with a sour taste in his mouth. He doesn’t like to bring her up,
given that Gyuvin pretty much kept him in the dark about her. It still rubs him the wrong way
because Ricky feels kinda betrayed by that. That’s why he doesn’t like hearing Gyuvin
mention her either. She was never a part of Ricky’s life and isn’t a part of Gyuvin’s anymore.
Thankfully. Ricky only says that because he missed Gyuvin a lot when he was always off
spending time with her, although he’ll take that to the grave.

“No, I meant you.” Gyuvin says, throwing yet another curveball at Ricky. Ricky can’t help
the blush that comes to his cheeks, even though plenty of people call him cute – Gunwook,
Hanbin, Zhang Hao all say that. It’s because Ricky can be a little silly.

But why does it feel different coming from Gyuvin?

Ricky’s fingers hook themselves in the fabric of Gyuvin’s t-shirt and he can’t help but pull
down, so Gyuvin’s lips crash against his.

The delicate balance they found splinters and falls away and Ricky finds himself desperately
grinding upwards while he kisses Gyuvin hard, as if he wants to swallow him whole. The
hunter has now become the hunted.

Ricky comes in his pants embarrassingly fast and rides it out till Gyuvin comes too, with a
sharp whine against Ricky. The oversensitivity kicks in while Gyuvin is coming down from
his orgasm and Ricky bites down hard on his bottom lip, till Gyuvin stills.

They stay like that for a minute, till Ricky pushes Gyuvin off before he has to wash dried
spunk off himself. His underwear is also gonna end up stained too.

Once they’re clean, Gyuvin follows Ricky back into bed, sneaking under the covers too. He’s
really been extra clingy today.

“What do you mean though?” Ricky says. He lets Gyuvin loops his arms around Ricky and
pull him close, effectively spooning him. “I’m not small. I mean, I can be cute but I typically
don’t give off that vibe.

“You’re smaller than me,” is Gyuvin’s explanation, nuzzling against Ricky’s neck. “And of
course you’re cute to me, Lovelicky.”
“I never said I want to be your cute little thing.”

“Too late,” Gyuvin shoots back. He pulls Ricky even closer. “You’re trapped now.”

It should be a sweet moment between friends, but Ricky’s lecherous mind has to go ahead
and ruin it. He knows Gyuvin is big. Ricky’s hand can barely fit around him. But now he can
feel Gyuvin presses against his ass, almost humping him.

Ricky’s convinced Gyuvin is doing it on purpose until he hears a loud snore rattle through his
eardrums. For God’s sake. Ricky hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet. But he doesn’t want to lie
here, trapped with Gyuvin against him, and have a horny crisis. He shuts his eyes too.

When Ricky wakes up, he suspects he’s been the victim of a serious road traffic accident. Not
only is it still pitch black, but he can also feel a heavy weight crushing down on him. Any
attempt to move his limbs only results in an excruciating amount of pain radiating through
his whole body. His bones must be broken. Ricky can’t move.

“Help me,” Ricky croaks. “Help me!”

The weight on top of him shifts, applying pressure to Ricky’s ass, which hurts so much Ricky
screams in pain.

It’s a warm weight on him, Ricky realises with horror. A body. Someone else who had been
in the car with him.

“I need an ambulance,” Ricky says. His mouth also feels disgusting, like something has
crawled inside and died.

“What the hell are you blabbering on about at 3am?” the weight says. Oh, it’s Gyuvin. “Why
are you screaming?”

“I can’t move.”

He winces as Gyuvin climbs off him. His back hurts terribly too, the slightest movement
making him hiss. The light switches on and Ricky further winces as the room lights up,
stinging his eyes. He blinks rapidly to adjust.

Oh, he’s in his room. On his bed. The memories of last night slowly come back to him. Ricky
can feel a headache coming on due to things he doesn’t want to examine, so he focuses on the
source of his problem instead, which is standing at the side of the bed, staring at Ricky with
concern.

“I’m dying,” Ricky groans.

“Are you sure?” Gyuvin says uncertainly, blinking the sleep out his eyes. He’s only in his
boxers. Sometime during the course of the night, he’d stripped off his t-shirt.

Ricky tries to sit up and the pain that kicks in forces him back down on the bed immediately.

“I’m literally dying,” he repeats. “And this is how you treat me?”

“Should we go to hospital?” Gyuvin says, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s still night, so
we’d have to go to the emergency department.”

Ricky has no idea. He just doesn’t want to be in pain anymore.

The bed shifts beneath him and Ricky lets out a whimper of pain as the world tilts. Gyuvin’s
scooped him up in a princess carry, eyes burning with determination.

“Let’s get you to hospital then,” Gyuvin decides, elbowing Ricky’s bedroom door open. “I
just need to put on my socks and shoes.

“A t-shirt might be a good idea,” Ricky adds. He feels like a big baby.

In all their kerfuffle in getting ready, Gyuvin bangs Ricky’s foot against the wall, making him
wail in pain. He trips over a shoe on the way down to the front door and almost drops Ricky
too.

“What kind of circus is taking place out here?” Gunwook’s dulcet tones are heard. The
corridor light switches on. Hm, maybe it would have been a good idea to do that earlier,
before Gyuvin tripped over fifty-eight different things.

Gunwook stumbles out his room, looking livid. His eyes are bloodshot and he’s in his
pyjamas, eyes barely wider than a slit.

“Explain.” His voice is gruff and rough with sleep.

“I’m just taking Ricky to the hospital because he said everything hurts,” Gyuvin says with a
shrug. “And he can’t move. He’s convinced he’s dying.”

Gunwook stares at them in disbelief.

Then he walks up to Gyuvin and proceeds to poke every part of Ricky’s body, making him
writhe as his limbs begin burning.

“Gunwook, what the fuck?” Ricky protests.

“You pair of absolute dumbasses,” Gunwook groans. “You don’t need a damn hospital.”

“But why else do I feel like this?”

“You’re just sore from working out, you troglodyte!” Gunwook exclaims, rolling his eyes.
"It's called delayed onset muscle soreness for a reason!"
Ricky is too scared to tell Gunwook he has no idea what a troglodyte is. He guesses that it’s
not a compliment.

Gyuvin isn’t as scared though. He was always the type of kid to stick his hand up in class and
ask a dumb question. This time is no different.

“What does troglodyte mean?”

“It means you’re stupid!”

“Oh.” Gyuvin pouts.

“Now go back to bed, the pair of you,” Gunwook commands. “Gyuvin, get the whining
princess a hot water bottle and some paracetamol. I’m going back to sleep.”

He stalks back into his room, slamming the door. Gyuvin and Ricky exchange a look.

“Never poke a sleeping bear with a stick,” Gyuvin says sagely. It doesn’t make complete
sense, but it kind of fits so Ricky gives him a nod.

Ricky finds that he indeed feels better in the morning. He can move…a little but he’s just
extremely sore all over. He can barely lift his arms to massage shampoo into his hair and had
enlisted Gyuvin’s help instead. At this point, Gyuvin’s seen his dick enough times for Ricky
to not care about nudity in front of him.

Gunwook had descended into the kitchen with a face like thunder at his sleep being
interrupted. He’s typically a heavy sleeper but last night there must have been too much noise
for him to handle.

“When did you get back from Matthew’s?” Ricky asks him over breakfast. Gyuvin’s feeding
him his toast because Ricky doesn’t want to move his own hands.

“Around eleven,” Gunwook says. There’s almost a whole loaf of bread on the table, made
into buttered toast. “You told Gyuvin, didn’t you?”

“Well, I did kinda make him,” Gyuvin says, coming to Ricky’s defence. “And you would
have told me eventually...right?”

“Yeah, why didn’t you?”

Gunwook looks uneasily at them.

“It wasn’t me,” he says, sounding a little sad. “Matthew didn’t want anyone else to know
yet.”
 Ricky bites into his second slice of toast and relishes in the warm golden butter oozing over
his tongue.

“Is it,” Ricky hesitates then decides to throw caution to the winds. “Because of whatever
happened between him, Taerae and Jiwoong?”

“I thought we didn’t talk about that,” Gyuvin speaks up with a wince. “Wasn’t that, like, an
unspoken rule?”

Gunwook sighs heavily, deep in thought. He looks conflicted and gnaws on his bottom lip.

“You two dumbasses seriously have to promise not to tell anyone else what I tell you,” he
says solemnly. “Not a single soul. That includes your parents, Hao-hyung, Hanbin-hyung,
anyone else. And don’t let Matthew, Jiwoong or Taerae know that you know.”

“Of course,” Ricky and Gyuvin reply instantly. They’re both dead serious about it too.
Gunwook is entrusting them with something huge. There’s no way either of them will betray
his trust.

Beside, Ricky is also desperately nosey and really wants to know exactly what happened.

“What we say in this room stays in this room,” Gyuvin adds.

Gunwook opens his mouth to speak and Ricky awaits his story with baited breath.

“You see, it all started with that bathtub full of maple syrup…”

Chapter End Notes

the funny thing is i havent even planned what the mattraewoong lore so if anyone wants
to share ideas for how a bathtub of maple syrup can lead to drama between
mattraewoong and subsequently affect the trajectory of geonmaet's relationship and why
it must be private, feel free to share in the comments.
 Pink Pilates Princesses
Chapter Summary

The lore is finally revealed. Ricky's life continues to be chaos.

Chapter Notes

yeahh my bad but the update is here <3 it's my longest chapter yet, so there's more food
while i write the next one.

some part is in taerae's pov for the sake of lore, which kinda deviates from the usual
style but i hope the reveal was worth the wait, pls enjoy!

unedited as usual.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Gunwook starts to tell Matthew’s version of events of that fateful day at the party.

“Is this the bathtub of maple syrup that Taerae-hyung apparently almost drowned in?”
Gyuvin chips in.

“Ssh,” Ricky chides, putting a finger over his lips. He’s afraid too many questions will break
the spell and snap Gunwook out of it, and he’ll suddenly clam up and change his mind about
letting them now.

It goes something like this:

To this day, no one knows the culprit. Sure, Matthew has a giant supply of maple syrup that
he had especially brought over from Canada to last him throughout his time at university, but
he would never waste it. How his stash of maple syrup had ended up in the bathtub is
uncertain – was it just a prank? Was someone out to get Matthew? If that was their intention
however, it had been a total miss.

At parties, people get drunk. Taerae is amongst that group of people. He wanders upstairs,
completely smashed, needing to take a leak. But he’s wandered away from his friends and
he’s wobbling and teetering as he climbs the stairs. Taerae enters the bathroom and because
his balance is shot and his reflexes are scrambled, he trips over the scale left out near the
door. Only to land headfirst in the bathtub of maple syrup.

Now, if you’ve ever tried going underwater, it can be unpleasant if you’re not expecting it. If
your devil of a friend (who you should really cut off for this, honestly) thinks it’ll be a bundle
of laughs to watch you panic in a large body of water. Water shoots up your nose, burning
and stinging and you might swallow a gulp or two (along with a small fish if you are at the
beach). At least when you swallow water, it goes down easy. Syrup clogs your throat,
sticking to your tongue. You can’t really inhale at all, as if being smothered and the scent of
maple syrup invades your airway. It’s hard to even move when you’re upside down, terribly
drunk and so confused you don’t even realise what’s happening, until you can’t breathe.

Taerae had falls sideways and is almost submerged in the syrup, so much that it’s overflowing
from the walls of the tub. In his drunkenness, it doesn’t register to him for several crucial
moments that he can’t breathe. He’s three-quarters of the way in the tub, stuck like a turtle
turned upside down on its shell. He could just twist and get up, but in his state, his
coordination is so poor that he just flails, distantly hoping someone finds him. Many thoughts
run through him, like maple syrup tastes gross but it tastes fine when it’s Matthew, this is very
embarrassing, Mum I love you, who’s the murderer, I never told Jiwoong-hyung everything.
Taerae’s whole life starts to flash through his mind as he starts to choke on the pure volume
of syrup in his increasingly clogged up airways.

In a speak-of-the-Devil moment, Jiwoong happens to come up the stairs, like a knight in

shining armour. This knight happens to be shirtless, sweaty and high as a kite, eyes red from
sharing Keita’s joint, but he’s good at staying calm in a crisis. He also needs to pee. Jiwoong
enters the same bathroom as Taerae and immediately perceives the syrup and the person
inside. The scenario doesn’t add up, but Jiwoong is high, and his base instincts tell him this
person needs help. He plunges his arms deep into the syrup and extracts Taerae, who upon
getting air, starts gagging and gasping for air.

Jiwoong is actually a trained first-aider (hence his calm response to Yujin’s fall too), and he
gives Taerae five back blows, then two abdominal thrusts, until most of the syrup has been
expelled into the sink and Taerae is very much alive.

“Hyung,” Taerae says hoarsely, now much soberer. “Why is there a bathtub of syrup in
here?”

Jiwoong just giggles. Taerae notices his bloodshot eyes and puts two and two together.

“I don’t know. But why were you inside it? Did you want a syrup bath?”

“No, hyung. I tripped,” Taerae says and groans at the state of himself. His hair is drenched in
syrup and so are his clothes. He quickly starts to take off his shirt and trousers because
they’re heavy when coated but his fingers slip on the buttons. Something wet is in his face.

Jiwoong is trying to wipe his face with some wet wipes, getting the syrup out his face.
“You need help?” he says, voice still giggly. Taerae nods and gives up, letting Jiwoong help
with taking his shirt off. Whatever. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Jiwoong gives his
hands a rinse too and then he starts to unbutton the fly of Taerae’s jeans, but these are the
tight ones that Taerae has to suck in a breath to squeeze into. It’s kind of hard to take off. The
floor is also getting sticky as the syrup that had spilled out the bathtub begins to dry. Jiwoong
has no choice but to pull Taerae close to him, till his face is buried in Jiwoong’s chest.

Then he hooks his thumbs into Taerae’s jeans and pulls down hard. Finally, the trousers slip
down, past the curve of Taerae’s ass so they’re left around his thighs. It took Jiwoong so
much effort that he’s panting from the exertion.

“No wonder those jeans look like they’re painted on,” Jiwoong says wryly. “I’m glad I didn’t
have my shirt on, or it would have got ruined.”

Taerae lets out a snort. He’s just had a near-death experience and here’s Jiwoong fussing over
his shirt. It shouldn’t be funny, but it is.

“You know,” Taerae realises. He’s got his trousers down by his ankles, while Jiwoong is
shirtless and holding onto his waist. “If someone saw us, they’d totally think we’re about to
fuck.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” Jiwoong says, looking sharply towards Taerae. “If they did?”

“Well, the door is wide open for one,” Taerae says and his body then also realises the
precarious position they’re in. “I’m not that into being watched.”

“Then why were you dressed like you are?” Jiwoong murmurs, hands creeping down to
Taerae’s ass. Taerae shudders.

“What the hell is going on?” says the unmistakeable voice of Matthew. They both whip
around in shock.

“First off, why’s the bathtub full of maple syrup? Second, why are you covered in it? Third,
are you guys fucking?” Matthew demands, marching into the bathroom, standing on a non-
sticky patch of floor. He slams the door behind him and locks it. “I want an explanation.”

Taerae’s head spins at all the questions. Him and Jiwoong step apart, but all that reveals is the
semi in his pants. Matthew’s eyes rove over it, an eyebrow raised.

“One, I don’t know. Two, I fell in,” Taerae begins. “Three, Jiwoong actually pulled me out.”

He looks at Jiwoong for help. There is a small complication here. Him and Jiwoong are
fucking. They’ve been hooking up for a while now at random times. But the problem is…that
Taerae’s a bit of a slut. Jiwoong is too. That’s precisely one of the reasons why they’re
fucking around. Except, Matthew’s also a bit of a slut. And Taerae’s actually been hooking up
with him too. He’s been fucking both his flatmates secretly, not telling the other about it. And
now, it’s all gonna blow up in his face.
“Well, are you asking if we’re about to fuck right this instance or if we fuck in general?”
Jiwoong asks, which really does not help at all. He sounds slightly nervous and is nibbling on
his bottom lip.

Matthew uncrosses his arms and sits on the toilet lid, crossing his legs instead.

“It depends on what you two are willing to tell me,” He says simply, watching both of them,
looking a lot calmer than before.

“We’ve hooked up before,” Jiwoong confesses suddenly, looking guiltily at Matthew. “But
Matthew, you can’t be that mad that we didn’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Taerae finds himself asking curiously.

“Because I didn’t tell you that I’ve also hooked up with Jiwoon-hyung,” Matthew confesses,
also looking guilty.

Taerae’s jaw drops as he looks from one to the other in shock. What?

“Jiwoong-hyung…you’ve been hooking up with Matthew too?” Taerae says, still

gobsmacked. “When? For how long? More than once?”

“For a while,” Jiwoong admits, looking apologetic. “Around the same time we started
hooking up.”

“Is it a bad time to say I’ve also hooked up with Matthew?” Jiwoong’s jaw drops now and he
looks over at Matthew, who’s also looking like he’s just been hit in the head.

“Matthew, you’ve been hooking up with me and Taerae?”

“Well shit,” Matthew says. “It looks like we’ve all been fucking around.”

They all look at each other and burst out laughing.

“I’m sure you can guess what happened next,” Gunwook says solemnly into the stunned
silence. Wow, Ricky had been so absorbed by his storytelling that he almost felt like he’d
been in the room watching it unfold.

“Did they start arguing?” Gyuvin says, like an idiot.

“No, you dolt.” Gunwook says immediately. “They’re drunk and high. What the heck do you
think people do in that situation?”

“Say sorry and make up?” Gyuvin tries again, at the same time Ricky speaks.
“Have a threesome?”

“Have a WHAT?” Gyuvin shouts, looking at Ricky in abject horror. “Them three? No way!”

“Yes way,” Gunwook breaks the news grimly. “Then they woke up the next morning, all
stuck to the floor because of the syrup.”

“So what do you have to do with this?” Ricky says in confusion. Great, Matthew, Taerae and
Jiwoong were all secretly fucking each other, then decided to keep fucking but in the same
room. “Are they actually romantically involved with each other? Is Matthew cheating on his
throuple with you?”

Gyuvin’s completely broken at this point, and is hanging limply in his chair, looking like
every word Ricky says is draining his lifespan further. He looks genuinely close to death, so
Ricky gives his hand a rejuvenating squeeze.

“Well, me and Matthew-hyung got with each other at the next party,” Gunwook says, cheeks
flaming as he admits it out loud. “But they were still all dancing around each other at the time
and basically, it’s just complicated.”

“Is it?” Gyuvin says sharply, looking indignant all of a sudden. “Can’t he just call it off and
go public with you? You like him a lot right, Wookie?”

Gunwook looks a little torn.

“Well, yeah,” He admits. “Matthew-hyung’s just still coming to terms with his feelings for
me…and that he just sees Taerae-hyung and Jiwoong-hyung as friends, so I’m just giving
him time.”

“He’s not still hooking up with them, is he?” Ricky asks with a frown. He hopes Matthew
isn’t someone who would mess his best friend around like that, it would kind of break his
worldview. Matthew is too cute to be an asshole like that. There’s no way. Obviously, the
world isn’t so black and white but Ricky still stands by what he said.

Gunwook looks pained.

“Maybe at the beginning,” he says in a tiny voice, that has Ricky’s heart clenching in anger.
“But guys, we weren’t official then! It just happened and I guess I realised I liked Matthew-
hyung more than I thought.”

The silence is more chilling than anyone expected, which must be why Gunwook jumps up
onto his feet, like he’s facing the debate competition of his life.

“C’mon, if you hooked up with someone, you can’t expect them to be exclusive with you
after!” Gunwook says firmly, his words following a practiced cadence. “Before you guys say
anything. I chased Matthew-hyung. I badgered him till he gave in. I’m determined to make
him choose me. I know what I’m doing. I have a plan.”

The tension deflates from the room in a way that reminds Ricky of how when he’d blow up a
balloon when he was little, then release it and watch it fly around the room with a sloppy
farting noise. Maybe it’s the dramatic way Gunwook just revealed himself to simultaneously
be loser of the year and gigachad of the year. There’s something uncharacteristically brave
and stupid about his quest but if Gunwook has a plan, who is Ricky to stop him?

Gunwook’s plans always come to fruition. And if they don’t, then he simply makes another
plan.

“Bro, you’re mad as a hatter,” Gyuvin says, aghast. “I respect the grind but damn. You’re
crazy. Unhinged. Bonkers. Out of your mind. Insane. Bananas. Cuckoo. Loopy. Bats. Off
your rocker. Barmy. Got a screw loose. Dotty. Away with the fairies.”

Ricky and Gunwook exchange an exasperated look as they listen to Gyuvin exhaust his
vocabulary. Eventually he runs out of words and just starts applauding Gunwook with such a
lonely slow clap that Ricky pinches both of Gyuvin’s hands together and lower them back
into his lap.

“I hope you and Matthew end up together happily ever after,” Gyuvin blurts at Gunwook.
“You have my blessing.”

“I never asked for it,” Gunwook fires back immediately but he gives Gyuvin a fist bump. “I
appreciate it though.”

The attention swivels to Ricky, who is looking down at his cuticles.

“I’ll see what happens,” Ricky decides. “I can’t just let Matthew have you so easily. I have to
play the role of the protective best friend, seeing as Gyuvin’s already waiting to walk you
down the aisle.”

“Hey! I’m protective,” Gyuvin protested. “I just trust Gunwook to do the right thing. He
knows better than me here.”

“It’s always good to have someone on the lookout,” Ricky returns. “Good cop, bad cop.”

“So about this whole incident, do you want us to just pretend like we didn’t hear anything?”
Gyuvin says.

Gunwook shrugs.

“Yeah, just don’t tell anyone. I’m not worried about you though.” Gunwook turns to Ricky.
“Under no condition can you let this slip out, even by accident, got it?”

Ricky gives him a salute. He doesn’t know how he’s going to prevent that, but he can
definitely try his best.

“But wow, your situation is so much crazier than ours,” Gyuvin says, back on the ‘crazy’
train of thought. “I always thought your love life would be simple.”

“I don’t know about that,” Gunwook says, crossing his arms. He raises an eyebrow at the two
of them. “You two have it pretty complicated.”
Ricky and Gyuvin look at each other in horror. Does…does Gunwook know that they’re
doing…well, that?

“Huh, of course,” Gyuvin blusters with a horrible false bravado that makes Ricky want to
smack him. “It’s so confusing how we should act sometimes.”

“Yeah but there’s nothing confusing in our real love lives,” Ricky makes sure to emphasise.
Even with whatever is happening between him and Gyuvin, they are still firmly at best friend
status. “Unless Gyuvin has something else he wants to share with the room?”

Gyuvin raises both hands in defence, eyes wide. His gesture is even wilder and more abrupt
than usual, which doesn’t go by unnoticed. His hands are shaking slightly too.

“No way!” Gyuvin says. Even his pupils are shaking, flickering left and right. “The only one
I have in my heart right now is Ricky!”

“Really, it’s only me in your heart?” Ricky echoes after their conversation. He’s chosen to sit
in the living room to continue making sketches on his iPad. Gyuvin had a similar set up,
sitting next to Ricky with his laptop out, although he’s not actually doing any work right now,
just scrolling through YouTube Shorts.

“I mean, yeah.” Gyuvin said. “I’m not looking for anyone else right now, am I? I’m currently
taken with my boyfriend Kim Ricky.” He points finger guns at Ricky as he says so, with a
goofy grin on his face. He looks stupid, as usual, but somehow it feels more endearing than
usual. It feels a little easier recently for Ricky to admit to himself that Gyuvin’s presence is
like a soothing balm.

“But, seriously,” Ricky emphasises, crossing his legs. This position is going to kill his back,
but he keeps finding himself hunched over as he gets increasingly absorbed in drawing.
“You’re not interested in anyone else?”

If Ricky wasn’t so bothered about the detail of the fabric he was drawing, he would have
noticed Gyuvin’s frown.

“Why, are you?” Gyuvin asks, sounding far too serious. He lets out a cough, then his tone
returns to something jauntier. “Have you got the hots for someone?”

Ricky pauses, genuinely considering it. He’d found his gaze sometimes slipping towards a
senior in his art class, Jeonghyeon but other than that, Ricky hasn’t been with anyone. It’s the
longest dry spell he’s had unless he counts Gyuvin.

Should Gyuvin count? Ricky does not have the hots for him, surely not. He can’t even take
him seriously half the time. But his mind flashes back to the searing kisses they had traded
and…the rest of it. His heart lets out a sinking feeling.
Maybe Ricky doesn’t just think of his best friend as attractive. Just maybe, as a result of all
their brojobs, Ricky’s a little attracted to him as well. It’s nothing, Ricky is sure. Just
conditioning. His body just reacts more to Gyuvin because of what they keep doing. His
mind is more likely to dive to sex with Gyuvin around.

Sex? Sex with Gyuvin? That wouldn’t happen. That absolutely isn’t going to happen. Ricky’s
mouth suddenly feels dry. A throbbing pain starts up in his head.

“Answer the question, dude,” Gyuvin says, throwing a cushion at him. Ricky is still so
horrified he imagined fucking his best friend that he doesn’t even react and it hits him in the
face.

“What are you spacing out about, god?” Gyuvin grumbles, springing out of his position on
the sofa. “Making me look like a bully.”

Ricky’s still having an out-of-body experience. He and Gyuvin can’t have sex. They would
never have sex. That’s just…some theoretical concept. It wouldn’t happen. It can’t happen
because, well, how would they be friends if they had sex?

“Hello? Earth to Ricky?” Gyuvin says, squeezing onto the sofa with Ricky, sitting opposite
him, also settling into a cross-legged position as well. He waves a hand in Ricky’s face,
finally startling him out his reverie. Ricky blinks and absent-mindedly paws at the hand in his
face, grabbing onto it as a reflex.

“You look like a cat trying to play with a toy,” Gyuvin comments, rotating his wrist so his
hand slips into Ricky.

Wow. Gyuvin’s suddenly here in front of him, a lot closer than before. That shouldn’t bother
Ricky, especially when they’ve been much closer. But after the horrifying freight train that
had just trundled through his mind, Ricky’s thoughts are still floating in the gutter and he’s
suddenly perceiving all these new things about Gyuvin.

Like sure, he’s felt Gyuvin’s hands a million time, but only now does he appreciate just how
big they are. And his hands aren’t the only big thing about him.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Gyuvin says. Ricky feels himself being pulled
forwards before he registers the hands around his ass, and suddenly he’s in Gyuvin’s lap.

“Like what.” Ricky tries to deadpan and fuck, it comes out more like a croak. “Hey, let go.”

“I wish I could see inside your brain,” Gyuvin says, almost wearily. “I don’t understand what
goes on in there.”

“I bet if I could see inside yours, it’d be empty,” Ricky jibes back easily, finally feeling less
off-balance. Yes, that’s how they act around each other. “I just spaced out, it was nothing.”

Gyuvin seems to want to squish onto the sofa with him and Ricky’s comfortable enough,
leaning back on the side while his legs are tucked around and behind Gyuvin’s waist. He
picks up his iPad and resumes drawing.
“I’m taking a break,” Gyuvin says, tone shifty. “Can I look at your dick again?”

Ricky draws a giant line through his drawing. Thank god for the wonders of digital art and
the undo button.

“Why…again?” Ricky says. If he really focuses, he’ll be able to start colouring the sketch
soon. Trust Gyuvin to hit Ricky with his I-want-to-look-at-dick revelations right when he
actually wants to get work done. “Tired of yours?”

“I just like how it looks,” Gyuvin says simply, without so much as a blush on his face.
Scarily, he seems even calmer than the first time. “Pretty please?”

Ricky tries to turn him down. He really does. But Gyuvin’s been learning his weaknesses
since Day 1 and it turns out, it’s really hard to focus when a thumb keeps drawing circles
over your hip bones.

For the most part, Gyuvin really does just look. Occasionally, he touches Ricky but not
enough for him to be rattled enough to get hard. And Ricky is genuinely too focused on his
drawing and by the time he finishes, in a direct contrast to last time, Ricky’s relatively
unbothered but Gyuvin clearly is, given how he looks totally bricked up. The bulge at the
front of his trousers is obscene.

“I’m finished,” Ricky says and tucks himself back in. His voice remains as soft as his dick.
“Playtime’s over.”

Gyuvin looks confused. Maybe he’d been hoping for a bigger reaction from Ricky. Or maybe
he didn’t expect himself to get so turned on by Ricky’s dick. Ricky doesn’t know and he
doesn’t want to ask (and too scared of the answer).

“It’s not fair,” Ricky finds himself saying. He suddenly remembers Gunwook is in fact at
home in his room. There’s faint Japanese music in the background, so Ricky sincerely hopes
he’s muscling in for a hard study session, to the point he tunes out all noise around him.

It would be quite hard to explain why Ricky just had his dick out in the living room. The only
explanation Ricky can come up with on the spot is that his dick had some kind of rash that he
needed someone else to see, but he’s not exactly eager to try and convince people his dick is
diseased.

Anyway, why is Ricky always the one feeling like he’s whoring himself out to Gyuvin?
He’s…he’s literally letting Gyuvin objectify him down to his dick.

“What’s not fair?”

“I keep showing mine, you have to show me yours too,” Ricky demands, like a petulant
toddler. “Let me see.” Why the fuck am I doing this again? To get even with Gyuvin.

Gyuvin’s jaw drops.

“What, just because I looked at yours?” Gyuvin exclaims. His hand subconsciously move to
cover his crotch with his hands.
Ricky nods emphatically but Gyuvin still looks sceptical.

“Do you even want to look at my dick?” Gyuvin says incredulously. “This feels like bullying.
I will if you actually want to see. Not if you just want to make fun of me.”

Ricky snorts.

“I’m gay. Of course I like seeing dicks. Kinda comes with the territory.” Ricky dismisses
easily. “Now drop your pants. I won’t take that long.”

“That’s scarier,” Gyuvin protests feebly but he’s already beginning to unbuckle his belt.
“You’ve got way more material to compare me against. I haven’t seen anyone else’s dick
beside yours.”

“What?” Ricky says genuinely surprised. “Not in the changing rooms? The showers? You’ve
never accidentally seen Gunwook’s?”

“Ew, no, don’t mention him!” Gyuvin gasps, scandalised. He shyly lowers his underwear. His
dick is straining against his briefs and flops out, hard and pointing along his thigh.

Ricky’s seen Gyuvin’s dick, duh, but he’s never really taken the time to closely observe. He
already knew Gyuvin was big but it really is girth-wise as well. Ricky wonders how girls are
able to take it. He’d read somewhere that girls had different vagina sizes and only so much of
the dick could go in before it hit their cervix or something.

“Is this the biggest it gets?” Ricky asked, taking everything in, both dick and balls. Jesus
Christ. Gyuvin’s balls are huge too. “Your max hardness?”

“Not 100%,” Gyuvin admits with a flaming scarlet face. “Ricky, please, this is so
embarrassing.”

“Says the person who made me do it,” Ricky replies, which shuts Gyuvin up immediately.
“Have a taste of your own medicine.”

“But you were doing other stuff at the same time!” Gyuvin protests. “You weren’t paying
attention. And I don’t think you even mind that much. Because you’re a pervert.”

“Says the person who keeps asking to look at my dick,” Ricky mutters under his breath.

“You can do something else while I look,” Ricky points out. He runs a finger down the vein
on the side of Gyuvin’s dick. Gyuvin’s cut, unlike Ricky so he can see his glans clearly. It’s
very red. It twitches upon Ricky’s touch.

“But you said you wouldn’t take very long.”

“Maybe I’ve changed my mind. I might draw it.”

“You’re not drawing a portrait of my dick.”

“Why not? You think your dick’s ugly? Aw, that’s sad for you.”
“You know I never said that, you annoying little b-fuck!” Ricky wraps his hand around
Gyuvin’s dick, effectively cutting him off. Cool. He can just fit his fingers around it. How
long is it? He estimates around seven inches.

“How long is it?” Ricky knows Gyuvin has measured it. Every guy he knows has done it at
some point in their life, including him.

“Nineteen centimetres when I’m fully hard,” Gyuvin says, voice barely above a whisper. He
looks completely mortified. That, and he’s about to combust any second. “I am now.”

“What, because of me?” Ricky teases, just like Gyuvin had done. Fine, maybe he should be
nice and jerk Gyuvin off. He seems pretty close already.

And then there’s rustling from Gunwook’s bedroom door.

Quick as a whip, Ricky retreats into the empty sofa and Gyuvin scrambles to do up his fly
and buckle his belt. Gyuvin Junior is unfortunately left hanging.

Gunwook emerges from his room, stretching his arms above his head.

“Do you want to order takeout? I don’t have food left and I can’t be bothered to cook,” he
says.

“Sure,” they agree simultaneously, not daring to look one another in the eye.

Zhang Hao is in his pink princess pilates phase and is currently trying to drag Ricky into it
too. Ricky had agreed to the pink outfit but had paled when Zhang Hao told him that he
would be attending the pilates class in it. Somehow the idea of actual pilates being part of the
equation hadn’t registered in his head.

Especially as just like him, Zhang Hao didn’t really exercise. Well, he did go to the gym with
Hanbin a lot, but Ricky suspects it was more to ogle Hanbin rather than actually exercise. He
shouldn’t be too judgemental. Zhang Hao probably has built some muscle and stamina. It’s
just not very visible.

“So, why pilates?” Ricky asks him.

“The outfits are cute,” was the simple reply. For someone so smart, Zhang Hao was
sometimes surprisingly childlike with his approach to things.

“But, like, what about the actual pilates?” Ricky attempts to ask Zhang Hao.

“I liked couple pilates with Hanbin,” is what Zhang Hao has to say on the matter. “I’m sure
this will be fun too.”
Ricky isn’t so sure. He knows firsthand that pilates is actually much harder than it looks but
he’s hoping this won’t be the case.

They’re standing by their mats, right at the front because the instructor happened to be
Matthew, of all people and he had demanded they stay close to him. He’s also in a pink outfit,
which makes Ricky afraid they look like a trio. He can feel his reputation sinking by the
second.

“Did you know he was teaching?” Ricky had hissed at Zhang Hao when they’d entered the
studio. He doesn’t really need to answer the question because Matthew had given them a
wave like he was expecting them.

“Yeah, of course,” Zhang Hao blinks at him guilelessly. “That’s why the class is free for me.”

“Then why did I have to pay!?”

“Because you’re rich.” Zhang Hao deadpans.

“No, the point is why did you get a discount because you know Matthew, but he didn’t give
me one?” Ricky cries. He’s so going to grill Matthew about Gunwook after this lesson.

He hopes the mats are clean and no one else’s sweaty body has been pressed on top of it.
Ricky sniffs tentatively and thankfully doesn’t smell anything weird.

Matthew starts off with a warm-up that Ricky gets through easily enough. The caveat of
being right at the front is that Matthew’s ass is constantly in his face. It’s very perky. It also
becomes a welcome distraction when Matthew starts the real pilates and Ricky begins to
experience pain that he thinks can only compare to something like childbirth. Fuck.

If only Gyuvin’s ass was nicer to look at. All kinds of weird thoughts are racing through him
to relieve the pain. What had Gunwook said before? Gyuvin’s ass was just two small
potatoes. Enough about Gyuvin’s ass. Matthew wants them to roll onto their back for abs.
Jesus Christ.

It’s when he’s sweating and panting, leg about to give out but Matthew still demands for
them to hold it and…pulse! Fuck the pulsing. Ricky can barely take the abuse to his limbs
any longer.

“Now we’ve done this leg,” Matthew pauses, looking far too happy and not out of breath.
“Let’s turn over to do the same on the other leg!”

People who are so chipper during exercise need to have their brains examined, Ricky thinks.
He looks to the side to see how Zhang Hao is holding up and is vindictively reassured by how
he’s completely lost his composure. Ricky is not the only one dying here. Zhang Hao is
flopped out on his mat, limp as a noodle.

“Matthew, isn’t this a beginner class?” Zhang Hao murmurs to him. He gets into position but
his leg is barely able to lift past forty-five degrees. Ricky’s torture sessions must be paying
off somehow because he’s actually managing to keep up, despite great effort.
“It is,” Matthew confirms, beginning to raise his leg on the other side. “Maybe you should try
my senior class next time. If you’re over sixty, there’s a 10% discount.”

“And you’re telling me this because...?” Zhang Hao says tremulously.

After the cooldown, Ricky and Zhang Hao are left unable to vacate the studio, both staring at
the ceiling, coated in sweat and breathless from exertion. Matthew just stands above them
and laughs and laughs and laughs. He takes a photo as well, for good measure.

The next class is starting and Matthew eventually kicks them out, virtually carrying them
outside.

“Never again,” Zhang Hao says and Ricky agrees wordlessly. They have to support each
other’s weight to make it past the door, where they then collapse onto the nearest bench.

“I’m not flexible enough for this,” Ricky adds, wincing as he feels the sting around his hip
flexors. “There needs to be a pre-beginner’s class.”

“Oh, I’m flexible alright,” Zhang Hao says with a slight sneer. Ricky rolls his eyes. “I just
don’t think my muscles are designed to withstand such intense stress.”

They eventually call an Uber because they don’t even have the strength to walk or catch the
bus. Zhang Hao gets dropped off first. Ricky considers going in to see Oakie and Yujin for a
moment, but his body protests the activity. They wave through the living room window and
Ricky rolls down his tinted window to wave back, until Zhang Hao crawls through the front
door, disappearing into the house on his hands and knees.

Back at home, Ricky is checking out his gains in the mirror. His arms seem a little more
defined than before, but he can’t be certain. His legs feel more muscular too and strangely
enough, so does his butt.

“Maybe you have a sleeper build,” Gyuvin says, watching Ricky flex in front of the mirror.
He had been on his phone but now he’s watching Ricky watch himself too.

“What’s that?” Ricky says. “I like sleeping.”

“Never mind,” Gyuvin sighs. Ricky eventually learns Gyuvin was referring to himself. He
works out quite frequently, but it doesn’t translate into his frame like Gunwook’s who was
already being mistaken for a university athlete during high school.

“Do you think my butt’s gotten bigger?” Ricky frowns, twisting to the side to check his side
profile. “Like Jiwoong-hyung?”

“It looks the same.” Gyuvin says bluntly.

Ricky swears it’s a bit bigger. There’s no way his trousers were that snug on him before. And
it feels like muscle, not fat. His ass feels like a rock when he feels it.

“I think it’s bigger,” Ricky insists, now looking craning his neck to look at his butt from
behind.
“It doesn’t feel bigger if I think about the last time I grabbed your ass.”

“And when was that?” Ricky doesn’t even register when Gyuvin slaps his butt or gropes him
anymore because of how often it seems to occur.

“Yesterday.”

“It could have grown overnight.”

“Maybe if you had a BBL.”

“Well, maybe I did.” Ricky says with a huff. Maybe his butt is the same size then. But he
won’t let Gyuvin win. “I still think it is. I feel it.”

“Says the same guy who felt he was dying after one workout at the gym,” Gyuvin bites back.
“Do you want me to analyse the parabolic curve of your ass and calculate the gradient? I can
then compare it with the previous gradient of your ass in old photos and we can objectively
see if your butt got bigger.”

Ricky wrinkles his nose.

“No, that’s just weird,” he tells Gyuvin. “Don’t be such a freak.”

Gyuvin shrugs at him as if to say, ‘well I tried’.

“I’m surprised you even know how to do that,” Ricky says. He should go take a shower now
and wash away the sweat from today.

“Ricky, I’m smart,” Gyuvin whines beseechingly. “I’m literally on course for graduating with
a first.”

Gyuvin is good at his degree. So is Ricky actually. But whatever academic intellect they
possess completely evaporates when they’re together.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ricky acquiesces. “You’re super smart. That’s why we’re friends. If only your
ego wasn’t bigger than your IQ.”

“Me?!” Gyuvin cries, aghast. He pulls himself off the bed to tussle with Ricky, grabbing him
from behind. “Let’s be real, Gunwook is the brains of this friend group. But you’re 100% the
ego.”

Ricky struggles in Gyuvin’s arms briefly then remembers he’s too tired from yoga to escape
so he gives up.

“Oh,” Ricky remembers. “Do you want to try a few couple yoga poses? Hao-hyung showed
me a few that he’d tried with Hanbin?”

If Ricky’s gonna try them, now’s a good a time as anything. He knows he’s going to wake up
sore and stiff as a board, so while it hasn’t set in, he can goof around with Gyuvin.
“I think there’s even trio yoga too,” Gyuvin says. “We should try that with Gunwook as
well.”

The biggest area of open space is the living room. Ricky and Gyuvin move the coffee table to
the side, as well as any objects they might kick and then get to it.

The first few are easy enough, the standing ones where they lean back and support each
other’s weight. The sitting ones are easy too, it’s the same principle.

“Isn’t this just us planking on each other?” Gyuvin says, jabbing a finger at the photo on his
phone. “That looks stupid.”

“Dibs being on top,” Ricky says immediately. “I’m not having your feet by my face.”

It’s a bit wobbly but Gyuvin is doing a straight arm plank, while Ricky holds onto Gyuvin’s
ankles and does the same, his feet resting on Gyuvin’s shoulders.

“Your feet smell horrible, Rik.”

“No they don’t.”

“Smell if yourself then, jeez.”

Ricky’s feet never smell. Not even after a full day of hiking up a mountain trail or basketball.
It’s just not possible.

The final pose on the link Zhang Hao had sent him has one person in the back doing the
downwards facing dog while the other person is bent at ninety degrees, their feet on the first
person’s hips as they support themselves in a handstand-like pose.

“Why are we even doing this?” Gyuvin asks, staring at it with a sigh. “It doesn’t even seem
useful.” Ricky is inclined to agree but it is kind of fun too. Maybe exercise can be for him.

“It’s not just exercise,” Ricky says. “It’s also improving our trust in each other.”

“Yeah, but I already trust you?” Gyuvin says with a shrug. “I guess you don’t trust me…”

“Of course I do!” Ricky says hotly, curling his lip at Gyuvin. “Don’t even joke about it.”

Gyuvin gives him one of those big teethy smiles, the kind that sometimes makes him look
like a killer clown.

“OK, last pose, let’s go. I want to eat dinner.”

They play rock-paper-scissors which Ricky loses and now he has to be the weight-bearing
one. He gets into the downwards facing dog, his hands on the rug.

“Tell me when you’re going to- argh!” Ricky screeches as he feels Gyuvin’s feet suddenly
land on his hips without warning. That idiot! Ricky always told Gyuvin when he was about to
transfer his weight to him.
Ricky crumples like a house of cards on the floor, sliding forwards to land on the carpet with
a thump. As he destabilises, so does Gyuvin and he lands right on top of Ricky, knocking the
wind out of him. Ricky emits a shallow, wheezy gasp as Gyuvin’s impact deflates his lungs.

“Can you tell me when you’re going to jump up?” Ricky grumbles underneath him. He tries
to wriggle from where he’s trapped beneath Gyuvin’s weight when he hears Gyuvin’s sharp
intake of breath.

Ricky’s about to ask what’s wrong, but then he realises the precariousness of their position
too. Gyuvin on top of him, his dick nestled on top of Ricky’s ass. It makes Ricky think of sex
with Gyuvin. And that’s exactly what he should not be thinking of. Hadn’t Ricky (and the
other voices in his head) just decided that it should not happen at all costs?

“Sorry, um,” Gyuvin shifts his weight but he just grinds against Ricky instead and lets out a
little gasp. “Shit.”

Ricky’s ears are on fire. He can feel it. Gyuvin rocks against him again and moans. Ricky
now has a much clearer idea of how it would feel if they were to fuck. It would be something
like this, only with less clothes and layers between them.

“Sorry, it just feels good,” Gyuvin breathes, voice ragged. “I’ve got blue balls. I can’t help it,
ah.”

Ricky is definitely not hard as a rock himself.

“It’s fine,” Ricky says, voice strained. “Embarrassing for you though, bro. Are you going to
come in your pants like a teenager?”

“Shut it,” Gyuvin pants and having gotten Ricky’s permission, frotting even harder. Ricky
feels the pressure and heat against himself and bites his lip. He can’t moan. That would be
even more embarrassing. Gyuvin pushes himself up, supporting himself on his elbows and
just…humps Ricky like a dog.

It’s beginning to feel like a bad porno. Something titled like: I Fell on My Bro and Now My
Dick’s in His Ass. How was Ricky meant to explain to anyone that this had just happened
because of a fall? Not even he would believe it if he had heard it from someone else.

“I’m close,” Gyuvin whispers and his hips spasm for a second, then he collapses back on top
of Ricky, dead weight.

“Get off now, you’re heavy.” Ricky demands, jabbing him in the side. He needs Gyuvin to
get up first too, so he can hide the raging boner in his pants. For some reason, he doesn’t
want Gyuvin to see it. How turned on he was even if he just lay there as his best friend rutted
against him.

“That felt good,” Gyuvin says with a sigh and rolls off him. “My balls hurt. Thanks, bro.”

“You’re welcome,” Ricky says dryly.

“I looked it up too. Apparently, the proper name for blue balls is epididymal hypertension.”
Ricky gets up stiffly and heads for the shower, ignoring him.

“I’m washing up first,” Ricky says, half-running to the bathroom.

“No wait! I literally came in my pants!” Gyuvin dashes after him. “I don’t want to wait for it
to dry!”

Too late, Ricky’s already locked the door and Gyuvin can do nothing but bang futilely against
it.

“We can shower together!” Gyuvin cries desperately. “Save water!”

Ricky considers for a full second. No. Who knows what’d happen if they were both butt-
naked in a room together.

Gunwook’s predictions are as spot on as ever. It’s the Saturday of the third round, where the
thirty couples will now be cut down to twenty. Ricky’s almost forgotten the entire reason they
entered it and began this ridiculous farce.

As their coach, Gunwook makes sure to emphasise it to them.

“This round will be physically difficult,” he says, clapping them both on the shoulders as they
prepare to leave the house. The contestants had been sent an email and told to wear
comfortable clothes they can move around, which had been more of a giveaway.

“That makes things more unpredictable,” Gunwook says. “You two have to stay fully focused
if you want to win. And there’s a new element too. This time, they’re letting some people
watch in the audience. Don’t let them distract you.”

“Are you going too?” Gyuvin says, puzzled. Gunwook’s still in his pyjamas.

“Nah, I have better things to do,” Gunwook dismisses easily. “We’re not far along enough in
the competition for me to attend. The tickets aren’t free. How do you think they’re scraping
the budget for the prize, beside streaming it on YouTube?”

Fair enough, Ricky supposes. It’s the same old routine, queueing up, chatting to some of the
other couples, then heading in. Zhang Hao and Hanbin find them as usual, and they sit
together.

Gunwook’s prediction rings true and there’s some stands set up, with a larger crowd of
people than Ricky had been expecting. He supposes they’re something like influencers with
how big the show has been online. Even people from other universities have been tuning in.

Yeri and Seungkwan are in godawful Lycra leotards and garish neon legwarmers today.
“Hello folks! Welcome to Round 3 of the Best Couple Contest!” Yeri shouts into the mic,
looking very enthused. “This is the first time having our live audience here, so everyone
better be on their best behaviour here!”

The audience cheer enthusiastically. Next to Ricky, Gyuvin looks a little green.

“What?” Ricky whispers to him, nudging Gyuvin.

“I have stage fright,” Gyuvin says in a small voice.

“Since when?” Ricky hisses, squinting at him. “You’re literally a sports player?”

“This is different,” Gyuvin mumbles. Ricky puts an arm out and sighs as Gyuvin scoots into
him.

Great, so now Ricky has to manage a jittery Gyuvin on top of whatever physical activity
they’re doing.

“Of course, our lovely audience have all signed an NDA that stipulates they can’t say a peep
about what happens till we air this round,” Seungkwan reminds the crowd, who nod in return.
“So, the reason we asked everyone to dress comfortably today…”

“And judging from our lovely outfits,” Yeri continues. “You will be competing in…
COUPLES YOGA!”

There’s a chorus of groans from the contestants.

“Don’t be like that,” Seungkwan announces, hands on hips. “If this makes our lovely couples
feel any better, this will be the last physical challenge we have in this contest. Oops, am I
allowed to say that?”

“Well, regardless of that, it’s too late,” Yeri says. “So, if you’re the kind of person who hates
exercise, you just need to not be one of the ten couples eliminated today to stay in the
running and remain exercise-free.”

They’re going to be doing three yoga poses which will be assessing three different
parameters – trust, strength, and balance They’ll all have to hold each pose for as long as
possible and then their times will be averaged. The couples with the highest average times
will then go to the next round.

Ricky glances at Zhang Hao and Hanbin. Much to his surprise, they don’t look too worried.
In fact, they both look determined, ready to fight.

Zhang Hao’s words from yoga echo in his head. Him and Hanbin had done couples’ yoga.
Alarm bells begin ringing in Ricky’s head. Maybe him and Gyuvin aren’t the only ones
cheating in this competition. Did Hanbin and Zhang Hao happen to take an interest in couples
yoga…or do they also information on what rounds are coming up?

If so, they’re going to be even tougher opponents to beat.

 “OK, everyone, let’s get into our first pose,” Seungkwan declares, and a LED projector
flashes an image onto the screen. “Beginning with trust…let’s go!”

Ricky thinks it’s bullshit. All the exercises need a combination of trust, flexibility and
balance anyway. The first pose has both couples on their knees, feet flat on the ground and
they have to hold hands while leaning backwards. It’s not as physically taxing but they have
to balance their weight against each other.

Him and Gyuvin get onto the mat and Ricky takes a deep breath.

“We can do this,” he tells Gyuvin, who still looks a bit sickly. God, Ricky needs to think of
something extra powerful to hype Gyuvin up and rid him of his nerves. “We’re the best
couple here. You’re the best boyfriend here, okay?”

Gyuvin’s jaw drops. Had that been too much?

“Rik,” Gyuvin sniffs. His eyes begin shining – is he tearing up?

A loud smack echoes through the sports hall as Gyuvin slaps his palms against his cheeks.
They’re turning red rapidly, but Gyuvin finally looks composed and determined.

“For our holiday,” Gyuvin says, a steely glint in his eye. “We’ll come first, even if my arms
and legs fall off at the end.”

Well, Gyuvin doesn’t need to go that far. But it’s the spirit that counts, Ricky thinks. He feels
much more relieved now Gyuvin’s got his head in the game.

The whistle blows and they scramble into position.

Chapter End Notes

oh ricky you silly billy...

i almost forgot we had a whole couple contest to get through. how are we only on round
three...when there's 7 in total. and im already on 40k words. sweet jesus.
 Macaron Mischief
Chapter Summary

Something shifts.

Chapter Notes

I'm so sorry for taking forever but real life was beating my ass. Between mental health
issues, a scumbag assaulting my sister, a family court case and my father possibly
secretly eloping, a lot has been happening. I don't know if anyone reads the author notes,
but I really did not write for weeks. However, the meds seem to have kicked in and I feel
a lot better.

Do expect more consistent updates (I'm aiming for 2 weekly but once a month might be
more realistic!)

Enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

About ten seconds in, Ricky’s neck begins to ache. Has his head always been this heavy?
Gyuvin must be having an easier time. He’s a lot fitter for one, and secondly his head is about
half the size of Ricky’s. To his horror, he can also feel Gyuvin’s hands growing slippery with
sweat as they hold onto his forearms.

Maybe they should have powdered their hands the way professional sports athletes do. If they
slip out their pose and lose just because of Gyuvin and his sweaty palms, Ricky will cut his
hands off. Gyuvin might have to lose his limbs after all.

But Gyuvin’s got the grip strength of a gorilla on his side and his fingertips are pressed hard
enough into Ricky’s skin to bruise, although Ricky hopes not. Gyuvin’s also got a good grip
on Ricky’s arms, his fingers circling around with enough room to touch.

The problem in fact, is still Ricky. The strength it’s taking him to balance and hold onto
Gyuvin is more than the amount he usually exerts and even with Matthew’s training camp
from hell, there’s a ceiling to the amount Ricky can improve in two weeks.

“We are now one minute in!” Seungkwan announces, sounding far too happy for Ricky’s
liking. Only one minute? Not one hour?
“Neck hurts,” Ricky grumbles to Gyuvin who simply tightens his grip on Ricky. Gyuvin’s
actually pretty strong. His stomach does an odd backflip at this thought even though it’s
hardly a new realisation. Gyuvin’s not the only strong person he knows either. Gunwook is
strong too.

“I’ll kiss it better after, sweetheart.” is not what Ricky expects to hear in reply. It takes
everything in him to not suddenly let go in shock.

“Oh, what have we here?” Yeri says gleefully, as the audio director undoubtedly picks up on
their ‘flirting’. “How are you two doing? Ricky-ssi?”

“Ouch.” Ricky deadpans into the microphone being shoved into his visual periphery.

“Oh dear!” Yeri remarks, not sounding at all sympathetic. “What about Gyuvin-ssi?”

“My Ricky here is struggling but I know we’ll make it through this round,” Gyuvin says
smoothly, not even struggling for breath.

Five minutes later, Ricky gives in, only after making sure over half the couples have already
fallen down. Miraculously, Hanbin and Zhang Hao are still holding on. Maybe their couple
yoga thing was genuinely paying off.

The second pose they have to do looks so difficult that every participant does a double take.
Essentially the person on the bottom is holding the person at the top up with two feet and one
hand, while the person at the top is facing the ceiling, with an outstretched arm and leg.

Gyuvin decides to be the base, so Ricky is trying his best to look elegant and poised in the
air, as his core muscles ache with the effort it takes to remain aloft. He is grace, he is
elegance, he is-

“Hic!”

Of all reasons to flunk out of the couple contest, hiccups has to be the dumbest one of all. But
Ricky can’t help the spasm of his diaphragm as he lets out a silly little hic while balanced
precariously above Gyuvin. He can start to feel Gyuvin’s toenails digging into his back. How
long are those things for Ricky to be able to feel them through Gyuvin’s socks?

“Well, shit,” Ricky mutters under his breath. He holds onto his foot even tighter, afraid that it
will jerk out his grip if he hiccups again.

“It must have been that zero cola that you drank earlier,” Gyuvin suggest unhelpfully from
beneath him. “Maybe you swallowed too fast.”

“That’s fine and dandy,” Ricky says blithely with thinly veiled sarcasm. “But what -hic-
about how to stop these -hic- stupid -hic-cups?” He’s so going to lose his balance. The
hiccups are the strong kind, where your entire torso arches with the force of it. He had
already wobbled dangerously mid-talk.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Gyuvin says breezily. “I’ve got you. I have long toes. Like fingers.
They’ll hold onto you.”
It could have been romantic, in another dimension.

Ricky has some choice words on exactly what Gyuvin can do with those finger-like toes of
his but he bites down on his lip to suppress his next hiccup, brow furrowing in concentration.

Ew. His forehead is getting all sweaty. Ricky can feel the droplets of sweat trickling
unpleasantly down the side of his face, even beading on his nose.

Gyuvin might have finger-like toes, but his toes are still toes and do not have the dexterity of
a thumb. He is, despite evidence otherwise, not a primate.

The final straw – or the final hiccup rather, has Ricky tumbling from his spot in the sky
towards the yoga mats on the floor. All sorts of thoughts tumble through Ricky’s mind as he
loses balance as well. He’s fallen way too early. They’re going to lose the competition and
then it’s goodbye to his holiday with Gyuvin. Ricky will simply have to force Gyuvin to let
Ricky be his sugar daddy, even if it’s against his will. But if they’re not in the contest, what
reason do they have to keep dating? Then what happens between them? What about their…
their whatever-the-hell-it-is?

He expects to feel hard foam and a sharp pain in his back as he lands but instead it’s fleshy
and sort of bony. There’s still a sharp pain as said bone digs into his back.

Gyuvin has scrambled to shuffle on his side to catch Ricky, who lets out one loud surprised
hiccup as Gyuvin catches him in his arms. The crowd suddenly goes silent at their display
then coos.

“I said I’ve got you, haven’t I?” Gyuvin says into Ricky’s ear, hands settling around Ricky’s
hips. Then he breaks out into noisy coughs, as if hacking up a lung. “God, that winded me.”

Strangely enough, they don’t move out of position and continue to just lie down on the yoga
mat together, squinting at the bright ceiling lights. They’re indoors, surrounded by cameras
and a large audience, yet they’re acting as if they’re lying on a grassy hill staring at the stars
on a romantic date alone.

Of course, it’s in a ridiculous moment that Ricky has a ridiculous realisation. If they do lose
the contest, Ricky would not want to stop whatever this is they have going on. This fake
dating of theirs. He likes it. He likes being able to say Gyuvin is his boyfriend.

Gyuvin’s sweaty fingers clutch at Ricky’s and he chokes down the words that suddenly
bubble up in his throat.

Yeah. Maybe he should have seen this coming.

In hindsight, Ricky starts to feel incredibly stupid. Imbecilically, moronically, fantastically

stupid. For a second, he forgets the competition completely and bathes in the sensation of
warmth in his heart that had formed from Gyuvin catching him.

For the first time since they started their sham relationship, Ricky stops blocking out his heart
and lets himself feel. The emotional hairball that has been building up in his stomach finally
gets coughed out. It’s slimy and disgusting and full of love.

He turns to look at Gyuvin and sticky sweet adoration bubbles up in his chest. Gyuvin is
smiling at him dopily, head tilted to the side. The crooked grin that Ricky has seen so many
times. Ricky can’t pinpoint exactly when he fell but he knows something is definitely there.
He wishes he could kiss Gyuvin, right here in the sports hall.

“You OK?” Gyuvin murmurs, catching Ricky’s gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Of course, Gyuvin doesn’t have a clue. Something prickly scrapes through Ricky like rose
thorns and he sits up abruptly, resisting the urge to claw at the pain in his chest.

“We should get up,” Ricky says shortly. “I’m fine.”

Gyuvin nods at him and dusts himself off.

Of course, Ricky has to go and be an idiot and fall for his possibly questioning, but most
likely straight best friend.

Straight guys can be pretty gay, from his experience. They have a bit of ‘fun’ with other guy
friends and by that, they sometimes mean they jerked each other off. It’s not ‘gay’ to them, if
they tack on a ‘no homo’ at the end and go onto marry women and have kids.

Maybe that’s Gyuvin. Maybe it isn’t. But Ricky doesn’t know for sure and he’s not about to
ask. He’ll just have to squash this secret flat and stamp it down till the competition is over, till
after their holiday and they’ll inevitably break up. He can’t ruin what they have and make
everything weird not just between him and Gyuvin, but Gunwook too.

Gyuvin directs a worried look at Ricky, who has unknowingly been standing in the same spot
for the last minute as Jimin and Minjeong are still in their pose. Girls are scary strong, Ricky
thinks. The pain of period cramps that Ricky had heard about from his mother and sister was
probably similar to the muscle ache from these yoga poses.

He shakes his head, as if he can physically shake all his thoughts out his head too. OK. Back
to business. No I-like-Gyuvin revelations are allowed when they still have the last round of
couple yoga to win.

“Sorry about earlier.” Ricky says. “If it wasn’t for those cursed hiccups.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Gyuvin says and slings his arm around Ricky’s waist. “I know
we’ll kill it for the next pose.”

The peanut gallery in Ricky’s brain immediately starts up even with the casual hand resting
on Ricky’s hipbone. A large scrolling banner in all capital letters blares in his brain. YOU
LIKE GYUVIN! YOU LIKE GYUVIN! YOU LIKE GYUVIN!

Ricky’s just going to have to learn to ignore the sudden onset of self-consciousness that has
sprung up. He’s just extra aware of Gyuvin’s proximity, his smell and his body’s physical
reaction to it.
It will work out. Somehow.

“The final pose is now up!” Seungkwan shouts as Jimin and Minjeong finally clatter to the
ground in defeat. It had been almost eight minutes.

“We’re gonna have to hold this for double the time of everyone else to guarantee a spot,”
Gyuvin says to Ricky.

“I know,” Ricky groans miserably.

“We got this.”

They automatically raise their hands for a fist-bump then pause, both realising
simultaneously that it isn’t a very couple-y thing to do.

Ricky refuses to hold himself responsible for his next action. He’s still reeling from his
massive realisation earlier, after all.

He grabs the back of Gyuvin’s neck and presses their foreheads together.

“This is for the cameras,” Ricky whispers to him. Lies, lies, lies, the peanut gallery chant.
Then he leans in and pecks Gyuvin on the nose.

It’s hardly more than a fleeting touch, and lasts less than a second but Ricky is at imminent
danger of bursting into flames at any second. The crowd also reacts, sounding pleased.

As for Gyuvin, his eyes have gone to the floor and they flit back up nervously to meet
Ricky’s. He’s feeling shy?

Gyuvin bites down on his bottom lip as a massive grin spreads across his face. It’s like he’s
trying to contain it but it doesn’t work.

“What…what the hell,” mumbles Gyuvin and he’s turning red steadily. He brushes a finger
over his nose, where Ricky’s lips have been, then smiles again, this time carrying something
furtive that Ricky can’t read.

“It looks like Ricky-ssi is trying to cheer up his boyfriend after their accident during the
second pose!” Yeri announces. “But now enough lovey-doveyness. Let’s get this show on the
road and into our final pose!”

It’s a pose that him and Gyuvin have practiced before, funnily enough. The one where they’re
both planking on each other. They get into position and the timer starts.

This time, Ricky steels himself through the pain and the burning of his abs. The motivation in
his mind gets more selfish – this holiday isn’t just so that they can go on holiday together.
It’ll be a few days where it’s just him and Gyuvin, where Ricky can have him all to himself,
before they have to go back to the real world, before it all ends.

Ricky is actually disgustingly sweaty, perspiration trickling down his forehead and onto his
the bridge of his nose. It’s the sweatiest he’s been in his life. There’s even a possibility his
armpits are getting sweaty, as horrific as that sounds.

“Gyu,” Ricky breathes harshly, exhaling through his teeth. His own hair has fallen in his
eyes, obscuring his view of everyone else. “You good?”

Gyuvin lets out a grunt of agreement.

“It looks like Jimin and Minjeong expended too much energy on the last pose!” Ricky hears
Seungkwan announce. “Oh no! It looks like they’re first to fall this time!”

The audience lets out a sigh of dismay at the early upset.

“But four couples are still going even past the first minute,” Yeri adds. “That’s actually really
impressive guys. I can plank for a minute and a half at most. Let’s see how fit our couples
are.”

Ricky promises to himself that he will last at least two minutes. Or until his body just gives
up and he collapses. Then a lightbulb flashes in his head.

Ricky will keep going until Gyuvin stops. Ricky will win. He’s not just competing against the
other couples, but Gyuvin. He will not lose to Kim Gyuvin.

With this new burning desire to win, he hears the announcement that the timer has reached
three minutes. Apparently Minho and Jisung are still standing and whoever Kun and Ten are,
they are beginning to flag. As for Hanbin and Zhang Hao, Ricky hasn’t heard them be
announced as out.

“They really want this!” exclaims Seungkwan. “We are now approaching five minutes, and
we still have three couples in the running!”

Ricky can feel his limbs shaking with exhaustion and thinks wistfully of his bed at home. It’s
fine. Gyuvin is planking and carrying Ricky’s weight with him as well. This is nothing.

Holiday. We have to win the holiday.

Ricky chants this over and over to himself, desperately repeating this mantra in his head.
He’s so focused that he only realises it’s all over when Gyuvin crumples beneath him, arms
giving out in exhaustion.

“They had a rocky middle but Ricky and Gyuvin hold the final pose the longest!”

Ricky can’t believe they actually did that.

“Gyuvin, you’re actually amazing, you know that?” He gives Gyuvin a grateful pat on the
bottom from where he’s still slumped over the mat, fuel tank completely empty.

They find out if they’ve advanced immediately as it’s not hard to tally up their times and
average the scores. The couples wait with baited breath as the results flash onto the screen.
Ricky lets out the breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding when he sees their names
flash up on the screen. Perhaps he hadn’t needed to be so dramatic. They were only cutting
down the number of couples from thirty to twenty. Him and Gyuvin place a respectable
eighth, more than scraping through.

Surprisingly, Zhang Hao and Hanbin are fifth. They join up with Gyuvin and Ricky on the
way out of the sports hall, with Hanbin clapping Ricky on the back.

“Good game!” Hanbin says, flushed and cheery. “I’m impressed you two managed to outlast
everyone on the last pose! That one’s very tricky.”

“It’s because Ricky started going to the gym,” Gyuvin says proudly, thumping Ricky on the
back. “He’s improved a lot.”

“The yoga session with me probably helped you a lot too,” Zhang Hao adds with a frown. “I
should’ve have let you come with me.”

“Nah,” Ricky dismisses. “You’re going to be stuck with us till the finals, where Gyuvin and I
will take you down.”

Amidst the excitement that is the competition, training season starts up for Gyuvin. Ricky
had somehow totally forgotten that Gyuvin is a member of their university’s baseball team –
mostly because Ricky has no interest whatsoever in the sport.

“I’m a lot busier because I got promoted to first-string,” Gyuvin informs Ricky over a furious
Mario Kart tournament on the Switch. “Nationals are coming up.”

“Do you have positions in basketball?” Ricky had mistakenly asked.

“Baseball, Ricky.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

“Well, I play right field when I field. But when I bat, I’m clean-up,” Gyuvin says proudly.
Ricky nods, as if any of these words have meaning to him.

“Oh, great!” He says mechanically.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

“Maybe…”

In the meantime, Ricky finds a new annoyance pops up in his life, delivered unto him by
none other than Zhang Hao. Remember when Ricky had got a cold and cancelled on some
kid Zhang Hao wanted him to take under his wing? He’d finally gotten his shit together and
met up with Liu Tianyue, more commonly known as Ollie Liu.

Ollie had wanted tips on his portfolio for Art, staring at Ricky with big starry eyes. He had
looked ecstatic when Ricky followed him back on Instagram.

“I can’t believe Ricky Shen is following me back!” Ollie had crowed, looking far too pleased.
Ricky was hardly a celebrity, or even an influencer. He did have a lot of followers, but it
wasn’t like he had sponsorships or was a brand ambassador.

“Thank you?” Ricky said, attempting to be polite. “It’s not a big deal.”

It’s not like he tried to have a skinny ratio. It’s not his fault that tons of people follow him.
Obviously, he’s only going to follow people he knows.

However, from their first meeting, Ollie starts to pop up everywhere like he’s the head fanboy
of Ricky’s fanclub, which may or may not exist, according to who you talk to.

The closest way Ricky can describe it by comparing Ollie to Colin Creevey, that kid in Harry
Potter who was always trying to take photographs of him everywhere he was going.

“Your fashion is so cool and inspires me,” Ollie gushes as he materialises outside the studio
session Ricky is scheduled to attend. Like, how does Ollie even know his timetable?

“You should make what-I-eat-in-a-day videos,” Ollie pouts at him as he bumps into Ricky in
his favourite coffee spot on campus. “I think a lot of people would want to watch them!”

It’s starting to feel like Ricky has a new self-appointed manager.

“Aw, he’s just a fan,” Zhang Hao had dismissed with a flick of the wrist. “I’m sure it’ll wear
off soon enough.”

“It feels like borderline stalking,” Ricky grumbles back. “I don’t want to put up with it any
longer, but I also can’t bring myself to be mean to him.”

Zhang Hao exhales heavily, before beginning to look sheepish.

“It may be partly my fault,” he explains. “I might have hyped you too much to him.”

Ollie is well-meaning, at least.

“You were just trying to be nice,” Ricky says as he shrugs it off. “I can’t blame you for that.”

Gunwook and Gyuvin are no use at all. The whole thing is just incredibly funny to them and
they make no attempt at concealing their mirth as Ollie ‘runs’ into Ricky for the 5th time this
week. That doesn’t seem like a big number, until you consider that it’s only Tuesday.

Even if they take the same course, Ollie still operates on a different schedule. There is no way
they’re meeting coincidentally that often.
As Gyuvin sinks back into training, Ricky regrettably sees him less often in the evening as
Gyuvin is still running laps of the field or swinging his bat while the sun sets.

“Ah, the passion of youth,” Gunwook breathes wistfully as they walk past the field to pick
Gyuvin up for dinner after practice. “I wish I had time to be on a sports team.”

“Basketball was fun in high school,” Ricky agrees. He had been on the team with Gunwook
as well. “But it was tiring to do so much every day.” Not to mention the amount of food
Ricky had gone through, as a ravenous active teenage boy. He had been eating at least three
bowls of rice with every meal.

“My memories only live on through sports anime,” Gunwook remarks mournfully. “Haikyuu
it is.”

The sun casts a red tint over the grounds as the clock ticks to seven in the evening. As Ricky
and Gunwook approach the chain-linked metal fence of the practice grounds, the baseball
team are packing the equipment away.

Gyuvin eventually jogs over to them, still in his uniform. Those trousers really cling. It does
not go unnoticed by Ricky that Gyuvin is filling out more of his uniform, the fabric of the
trousers stretched taut around his thighs and calves. It’s not just his legs, however. His
shoulders are distinctively broader, and his arms corded with muscle.

Ricky would have never previously described his libido as high, but he feels like he’s going
through a second puberty. He’s now had an embarrassing number of wet dreams about
Gyuvin and wakes with a raging hard boner that he has to take care of during his morning
shower. Perhaps this is how being in heat feels like.

Even now, he feels a slight rush of heat as he casts his eyes over Gyuvin and how perky the
uniform makes his butt look.

“Hey guys!” Gyuvin chirps with a wave. His bag’s slung over his shoulder in an effortlessly
cool manner. “Where we heading to?”

“I don’t really mind,” Gunwook shrugs, with a glance at Ricky. “You got a preference?”

“I don’t mind,” Ricky says quickly. It often comes down to him making the decision, so he
wants to change that for today. “Gyuvin, you pick.”

“Huh?” Gyuvin raises his eyebrows. “You’re not craving something specific?”

Ricky isn’t. Maybe he wants gukbap. But he doesn’t really mind.

“Nah.”

“You’re a really bad liar, you know.” Gyuvin accuses him. “Spit it out.”

If Ricky was such a bad liar, then Gyuvin would have picked up by now that Ricky’s boners
were specifically caused by Gyuvin, not just because he is gay and wants to fuck around. He
does not say this out loud.
“I always choose, you should choose for once,” Ricky retorts as Gunwook looks on in
bemusement.

“Well, I want to eat what you choose.”

“Ugh, why are you so annoying?”

“What?! I’m trying to be nice!”

“So am I!”

Gyuvin lets out a scoff.

“How am I meant to feel happy if you’re not?” It’s phrased in a way that implies this is a
rhetorical question.

Ricky nervously adjusts the cufflink of his shirt as his heartbeat spikes.

“Oh!” Gunwook exclaims, in a reference to a specific TikTok of a white girl and raises a
scandalised hand over his face. If you get it, you get it.

It takes Gyuvin a second to realise that the neurons in his brain have drastically misfired. A
look of horror overcomes him.

“Oh, it looks like my mum is calling me!” Gyuvin blurts out, raising his phone out of
nowhere and dashing past them into the distance. “You guys pick a place!”

“That totally wasn’t odd.” Gunwook states. He looks like he’s trying not to burst into giggles.
“So, why don’t you choose where we go?”

They end up at the gukbap place Ricky’s been eyeing up after all. Gyuvin had returned in less
than thirty seconds, slung an arm around both of them and the odd lapse in their conversation
never brought up again.

Amidst the spirals of steam rising from the bowls of gukbap, Gunwook signals for the
ahjumma to bring over a bottle of makgeolli and two glasses, as well as a coke for Gyuvin.

“Is it just me, or has Hao-hyung been looking worn ragged these days?” Gyuvin says,
blowing on a hot spoonful of rice.

“I heard from Matthew that he’s been falling asleep in class,” Gunwook shares, with only a
slight blush at the mention of Matthew’s name. He has refused to provide any updates on his
situationship as of current but is apparently working on it.

“That’s not like him,” Ricky frowns. Zhang Hao is a star pupil. No one ever catches him
slacking. Not until now, it seems.

A few minutes of digging on social media reveals that Zhang Hao has been captured playing
the violin at multiple weddings in the past weeks. As a campus sweetheart, Zhang Hao is
often videoed without his consent, something which only really adds to his burden to present
himself as a respectable member of society.

It becomes clear that Zhang Hao is most likely overworking himself on trying to balance
coursework, exams and the new part-time gig he’s started doing.

Ricky doesn’t really know what to do about this, except to contact the advertised service in
Zhang Hao’s bio and essentially add a bonus to every gig he gets, upping his pay. This will of
course be kept hush-hush from Zhang Hao. He doesn’t know why Zhang Hao is suddenly
trying so hard to earn money, but Ricky is well aware his ge is too stubborn to ever accept
help upfront, so the only way Ricky can beat him at his own game is sneaking around.

In the meantime, the Ollie Dilemma is partially resolved by a genius idea from Matthew. He
had warily come around their house with Gunwook (who looked like he was going to bounce
on Matthew any second) and had listened in on Ricky’s daily moaning.

“Why don’t you just find him a friend to distract him?” Matthew asks, as if it’s obvious. “He
obviously can’t have very many if he spends all his time researching you.”

That’s a fair point, actually. With Zhang Hao’s help, Ricky invites Ollie to dinner at Zhang
Hao’s house, on a weekend when Yujin is over. As expected, Ollie is over the moon to be
invited. It goes much better than expected and surprisingly, the normally shy Yujin is
instantly as thick as thieves with Ollie and they make friends instantly. Oakie takes a liking to
him too, stretching in a figure of eight around Ollie’s ankles.

Yujin, ever the little shit, doesn’t hesitate to ask Ricky and Gyuvin how it’s going when they
have a moment alone as Ollie goes to the toilet and Zhang Hao and Hanbin are pattering
around in the kitchen.

“How’s your dating going?” Yujin asks, with beady little eyes that glitter with mischief. He’s
petting Oakie while sitting cross-legged on his bed, like some kind of evil supervillain
stroking their pet. Oakie’s purrs fill the room with some nice ASMR.

“Fine, thank you,” Gyuvin says, with a warning glance. “Ricky is the best boyfriend anyone
can ask for.”

That’s pretty nice praise to hear, even if Gyuvin isn’t being entirely serious.

“Gyuvin and I are still deeply in love,” Ricky jokes back, except he wishes he wasn’t joking.

Gyuvin is called to help set the table, so Yujin turns his attention solely to Ricky.

“Hyung, what are you two going to do when the contest ends?” Yujin says. He sounds
genuinely curious and not at all ill-intentioned, but it still sends a jolt of fear through Ricky.
“Are you going to break up after the holiday getaway?”

“We haven’t discussed that yet,” Ricky admits, and the look of worry Yujin shoots him is
eerily parental. He must have picked that up from Hanbin or Zhang Hao. “Don’t worry, we’ll
sort it out.”
“Mm,” Yujin says then tilts his head as Ollie returns from the toilet and his attention returns
to his new friend.

After Ricky’s realisation of his feelings, he has proudly managed to keep his trap shut and not
blab to a single person about it, except for his mother. Ricky can’t lie to his mother. Except
that in all his panic, he had forgotten that he’d already told her several weeks ago that him
and Gyuvin was a couple. He had rung her up in a panic and informed her in a trembling
voice that he has feelings for Gyuvin.

“And the problem is?” His mother had bluntly asked. “Isn’t he your boyfriend? I bloody hope
you like him.”

“Uh, I just realised I like him a lot more than I realise,” Ricky confessed to her and feels the
blood rush to his cheeks even with these innocent words.

It’s becoming a steady distraction as this crush fully unfurls and stretches its wings, then
burrows into the nest it has made in Ricky’s heart. In this increasingly odd metaphor, the egg
has been sitting in Ricky’s chest for a while but ironically enough, this Best Couple contest is
what has made it hatch.

You know it’s time to sleep when you start to compare your crush on your best friend to a
chick hatching. Ricky doesn’t think he’s making sense anymore. A lot of things aren’t
making sense now that Ricky wonders what will happen with these cursed feelings of his.

Zhang Hao’s wise words of advice come back to haunt him.

Don’t keep things to yourself for too long. It’ll always blow up in your face in the end.

Ricky knows there is truth to this but for now, nothing has blown up yet, so Ricky’s just
going to keep doing what he’s best at doing. Nothing. He’ll address it when it blows up.

It reads almost 2am on the clock. He really does need to go to bed. Tomorrow, there’s a
baking session scheduled with Jiwoong (and Taerae will inevitably be there because he wants
free baked goods). This time, Gyuvin is coming along too. It’s the first time Ricky and
Gyuvin have gone over to their house as a couple for a sober adult event, so they’re going to
have to be on their best behaviour to appear as a real couple.

Well, it’s not going to be hard for him anymore, Ricky thinks bitterly. He can just treat
Gyuvin the way he really wants to, without Gyuvin knowing it’s all real for him.

Yujin’s words from that evening’s dinner stick in his mind. They have to talk about it at some
point, don’t they? But Ricky can’t bring himself to burst their bubble.

He makes a promise that will likely come back to bite him in the future. Ricky will not bring
up the end of this fake relationship at all. He’ll wait for Gyuvin to do that. He refuses to
mention it first. At least one thing has been decided, even if it’s still another act of passivity.

When Ricky’s alarm goes off in the morning, he is sorely tempted to snooze it.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” Gyuvin crows, traversing Ricky’s bedroom in two steps
and swiping his curtains open. Unwelcome rays of sunshine seep under Ricky’s eyelids.
“We’re going baking!”

“Urrffff,” Ricky complains, rolling over and pulling his covers over his head. “Let’s
reschedule to the afternoon.”

“We can’t” Gyuvin whines. He jumps onto Ricky’s bed, causing the springs to let out a loud
groan. Ricky lets out a groan too as the bed judders with Gyuvin’s disturbance. “I have
practice in the afternoon.”

With that, he pulls the covers back down, once again blasting Ricky with light. He
immediately scrunches his eyes up and grimaces.

“Screw your practice,” Ricky says. “Just skip it.”

“Kim Ricky, you know the coach would kill me,” Gyuvin says and starts shaking his
shoulders. “I told you to go to bed early.”

“I did,” Ricky lies. “I’m just still tired.”

“You were scrolling on TikTok till the early hours of the morning weren’t you?”

“No, I just couldn’t sleep,” Ricky insists. He had been on TikTok but not for that long.
Gyuvin doesn’t need to know that part. He’d been kept up thinking of the idiot right in front
of him. “I think I’m getting insomnia.”

Bad liar, his ass. Ricky’s lying skills must have levelled since he realised he needs to hide his
feelings. He feels guilt pool in his stomach as Gyuvin’s eyes become concerned.

“Really?” Gyuvin says, suddenly sounding apologetic. “Do you need to go back to sleep? We
can call it off if you’re really too tired.”

Ricky’s starting to feel bad enough that his body is waking up. He opens his eyes wider and
realises he’s adjusted to the light.

“It’s fine, I’ll get up.” Ricky says. “I don’t want to make a habit of sleeping in too late.”

“Would it help if I sleep with you?” Gyuvin says, like a bolt from the blue. “Maybe it’ll help
you relax.”

Ricky blinks. Then he blinks again.

“Huh?”

Currently, the idea of Gyuvin in his bed is the opposite of relaxing. There’s a thousand things
that Ricky now needs to worry about. Gyuvin might hear his heart beating or he might
attempt to cuddle Ricky and he’ll get a boner. They’re kinda long past that stage when it
comes to self-consciousness about seeing each other naked and there’s been enough whoring
around to admit that they are at least, somewhat sexually attracted to each other.
But as Ricky has stated, straight men can have quite a relaxed definition of what messing
around with their bros is. It’s not too deep for them to mess around. But romantic and
emotional attraction is a whole new ballpark. There’s some worry that deep in the night,
wrapped in Gyuvin’s tender embrace, Ricky will blurt out something stupid that he cannot
take back.

“I can sleep in your bed too,” Gyuvin offers upfront. “We can cuddle. You know I give great
cuddles! My ex said they really helped her sleep.”

“I see.” Ricky says stiltedly. “Um, maybe we can try that if nothing else works.”

“It doesn’t have to be a last resort,” Gyuvin sniffs. “The offer’s always on the table.”

Do you want to kill me, is what Ricky thinks. Gyuvin must be an oblivious dunderhead if he
thinks Ricky, a gay man, will not fall absurdly in love if they start sharing a bed.

“You climb into my bed whenever you want already,” is what Ricky ends up replying in lieu
of a hard no or a desperate yes. “Besides, you kick me in your sleep and steal the covers.”

Ricky adds an extra shot of espresso to his coffee (which is heavily diluted with milk and
sugar) in an attempt to wake himself up more for their baking session. They’re going to be
making macarons for some random reason. Ricky thinks Jiwoong may be pulling more
difficult recipes out in an attempt to put Ricky off from having another baking session with
him. From Ricky’s admittedly superficial knowledge of baking, macarons are pretty technical
to make. It seems like quite a step up from the chocolate chip cookies they had made after the
strawberry sponge cake. Or it could all be quite innocent, and Jiwoong is simply really, really
craving some homemade macarons.

Ricky lets out a yawn as Gyuvin rings the doorbell as they wait at the porch of the house. He
wants to rub his eyes, but that would smudge his carefully inked eyeliner. He’d had to go
heavy with the concealer to get rid of those dark bags.

“Welcome!” Taerae says as he answers the door. “I finally get to see you two together!”
Gyuvin bounces on him in a smothering hug, which Taerae allows him to do for five seconds
before prying him off.

“Yeah, I’ve been really busy,” Gyuvin says apologetically. “No time for partying with
training season. But now I’m here, I’m ready to bother you for the rest of the day, hyung.

Taerae rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you dare.”

They traipse into the kitchen, where Jiwoong has set up the ingredients. It is looking
impressively professional. The ingredients have already been weighed out into little bowls
and there’s some fancy-looking equipment set out on the counter. Well, a piping bag and food
colouring. Ricky still thinks they’re pretty fancy contraptions to a noob like him.
“Hyung!” Gyuvin yells and makes a flying leap at Jiwoong, causing both of them to land in a
heap on the tiled floor.

“Gyuvinie,” Jiwoong groans, voice muffled by Gyuvin’s arm being pressed into his face. “At
least warn me.”

“Just happy to see you!” Gyuvin says happily, extricating himself from Jiwoong. “I don’t
know anything about baking but I’m excited.”

It turns out that macarons are made out of meringue and almonds. Jiwoong painstakingly
explains the details to them, which goes over both their heads. In one ear and out the other, as
they say. Something about folding in almond flour with a French meringue and then they pipe
and bake the macarons and make a filling.

“Strawberry flavour?” Ricky wheedles, pulling out a punnet of premium strawberries, the
ones that are individually wrapped in clingfilm. “Please, Jiwoong-hyung?”

“Fine,” Jiwoong groans. “What flavour do you want yours to be, Gyuvin?”

“Mango.”

“I should have known.”

“What about yours?” Taerae says, kicking his legs as he rests his elbows on the dining table.
“Jiwoong…hyung?”

Now that Ricky and Gyuvin are aware that those two have hooked up, or are possibly still
hooking up, the overfamiliarity between them makes a little more sense. Ricky is observing
things that he’d never noticed before, like how Taerae’s eyes flit unabashedly to Jiwoong’s
lips and down his body, and how Jiwoong does the same when he thinks Taerae isn’t looking.

When Taerae passes by Jiwoong to open the cupboard for a mug, his hands casually rest on
Jiwoong’s hips as he moves past. It’s so blatantly obvious that Ricky wonders how he ever
missed it.

As they cook, Jiwoong is focused on what they’re actually doing, constantly redirecting
Gyuvin’s wandering hands and Ricky’s careless ones so they don’t fuck up the ingredients,
which are pricier. Like, who owns ground almonds anyway?

Taerae is more focused on doing the talking and he’s normally quite good at keeping up a
conversation by himself, full of knowledge of the latest drama and gossip between the people
in his major. But inevitably, today his focus is on Gyuvin and Ricky, and his goal is clearly to
pry out as much information as possible on how they got together and any couple stories they
have to share.

If Ricky is honest, they had concocted the story of how they got together so long ago that
he’s almost forgotten all of it. It hadn’t been real, anyway. He only really remembers
something about Gyuvin pretending to confess and then kissing him. That part had been real.
 To Gyuvin’s credit, he does a lot of saving their ass. In his spare time, he seems to have
created and memorised a storyline for their romance.

Things are going well with the baking too. Ricky pipettes a few drops of pink food colouring
into his macaron mix as Gyuvin colours his yellow. Jiwoong is going all out and is making
his pistachio flavoured, colouring them a mint green.

They pipe their macaron mix onto sheets of baking paper that have the circles drawn out on
them, courtesy of Taerae, who Jiwoong had cajoled into helping them out.

Gyuvin is cross-eyed, with his tongue sticking out in concentration as he pipes his bag, trying
his best to not overfill the little circles.

Taerae chooses to ask a probing question at this exact moment.

“So, Gyuvin. Are you bi or did Ricky manage to turn you gay?”

“I’m straight,” Gyuvin says absent-mindedly and continues piping, unaware of his error. All
his careful storytelling from earlier bursts into flames and charrs into cinders and ashes. Oh
Kim Gyuvin. You mega-watt idiot.

Ricky’s stomach drops. A small creature also wails and dies inside of him at Gyuvin’s
declaration. Of course, he’s still straight even after everything they’re doing. A sudden urge
to crawl into a hole and die takes over him. The urge is so incredibly compelling that Ricky
looks wistfully out at the lawn on the garden and wonders how long it would take to dig a
hole big enough for him there.

“Good joke,” Taerae says instantly. “…Right?”

Jiwoong looks at Gyuvin expectantly. Ricky finds that he is too.

Gyuvin finally registers the silence in the room and his eyes widen.

Chapter End Notes

YEAH. So Ricky has finally realised. But the road ahead is still long...

Longish author note again, but I just saw that this fic has reached over 300
subscriptions...I'm honestly so bowled over and touched there are 300 people getting
email notifications when I update and care about this silly little fic of mine. Thank you
all so much. This is actually my most successful fic of all time, and I write it without
much going on in my head. You are all wonderful.

Also, I hope this chapter is still funny. I don't feel as confident about it so I hope it's still
fun and enjoyable,
 Two Boiled Lobsters
Chapter Summary

AWOOGA!

Chapter Notes

im never promising an update time ever again, one week my ASS. but thank you for all
the lovely comments, im doing a lot better.

i had a plot outline for this chapter and proceeded to ignore most of it.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Gyuvin stares at the three of them like a deer caught in the headlights. Him and Ricky
accidentally make eye contact and Ricky is confused to find that Gyuvin is the first to look
away, unable to hold his gaze. His eyes trail up from the floor, then to the cupboards, then to
the ceiling, before trying and failing miserably, to stare down Taerae.

Taerae is normally sweet as a peach, and just as juicy but there is unmistakable judgement in
his eyes.

Jiwoong’s focus also flits to Ricky, examining the emotions on his face.

“I-I’m straight ‘cos I’m only gay for Ricky,” Gyuvin says, but it comes out very nervous-
sounding. “Haha?”

Taerae clucks his tongue and makes a disbelieving noise.

“How are you still in the closet when you have a boyfriend?”

“I’m Rickysexual,” Gyuvin tries again, cowering under the combined force of Taerae,
Jiwoong and Ricky’s judging stares. His eyes find Ricky’s in a panic, for once at a loss for
words. It’s funny, because Gyuvin barely ever stops talking. He’s a yapper but he’s not
smooth. That’s Gunwook.

“Save me,” Gyuvin mouths to Ricky, withering even further as Taerae’s derision increases.

A beat or two pass as Ricky processes everything. As usual, he’s a second behind.
“Don’t bully him too much, hyungs,” Ricky wraps his arms around Gyuvin in a dramatic
improvisation. “He’s still figuring it all out. He’s a baby gay. I’m the first dude he’s ever
liked.”

“You never mentioned that,” Jiwoong says, disbelief clouding his voice. “It seems like an
important detail to miss out-”

“Ricky’s right,” Gyuvin says, as if confessing. It sounds oddly sincere. “Ricky’s the only guy
I’ve ever had eyes for. I’ve never been attracted to any other guy since before or after
meeting Ricky.”

Now it’s Ricky’s turn to gawp at him. It’s a crazy thing to say. He can feel the blood rushing
to his cheeks as his heartbeat ramps up.

“You can’t just-just say stuff like that!” Ricky cries, taking a step back from Gyuvin in shock.
His chest squeezes like someone’s using his heart as a stress ball and they’re very, very
stressed. “My heart!”

That’s right, play it off as a joke. He adds just enough screech to his voice for it to be funny,
rather than incredibly panicked.

“That’s actually kind of crazy,” Taerae acknowledges with admiration, his eyebrows
descending form the heights of his forehead to their original position. “No one? No one
else?”

“Surely there must be a single celebrity,” Jiwoong presses on. “Aren’t you a fan of that San
dude from Ateez?”

Gyuvin shakes his head. His cheeks are blotchy red too, but whether with embarrassment or
with the same panic Ricky has is uncertain.

“He’s cool. He’s hot,” Gyuvin agrees. “But I’m not attracted to him the way I am for Ricky.”

At these words, they lock gazes. It’s the way Gyuvin says it slowly, yet with conviction that
makes the hairs on the back of Ricky’s neck prickle. Arousal hits Ricky so fiercely that it
feels as if he’s jumped off a ten-metre platform and smacked into the water at terminal
velocity. Fuck this baking. Whatever the fuck they’re making. He wants Gyuvin, right now,
right here, right this damn second.

Ricky descends into such a carnivorous frenzy that he only wakes up when Gyuvin grabs him
by the wrists, stopping him in his tracks. Ricky instinctively tries to rip his hands out of
Gyuvin’s grip, but Gyuvin holds firm. Ricky does not budge an inch, still stuck in his fake
boyfriend’s hold.

He’s suddenly nose to nose with Gyuvin, hands on his shoulders.

Jiwoong is watching them with a fascinated horror.

“There was nothing straight about that,” he comments. “I think I need my eyes bleached,”
“I don’t think Ricky knew that he was Gyuvin’s gay sexual awakening till now,” Taerae
agrees in disbelief.

“Literally nothing happened!” Gyuvin yelps, looking worriedly at Ricky. His eyes say ‘you
good, bro?’.

“Only because you stopped him,” Taerae says snidely. “He was about to devour you whole.”

Oh yeah. Ricky’s not even in his own house. He’s not even in a bedroom. He is in his friend’s
kitchen.

“Hum-hum,” Ricky says, clearing his throat, which has gone strangely dry and crackly.
“Jiwoong-hyung, could you finish off the macarons?”

“The hell, Ricky?” Gyuvin hisses, fingers tightening even more around Ricky’s wrists. It has
no effect, except to make Ricky extra fucking horny. Ricky has frankly, never been so horny
his entire life. He’s never wanted to jump someone’s bones so badly, to the point that he is
literally more than willing to flake on his friends in order to just be alone with Gyuvin so they
can do something – something he’s not even sure of, not even sure of what Gyuvin wants-

It’s like he’s a cat in heat, wanting to hump whatever is nearest him. Which is Gyuvin, in this
scenario.

“Those are some powerful hormones,” Taerae mutters to himself. “Jiwoong-hyung, why
don’t you and me finish the macarons?”

He bats his eyelashes beseechingly, sidling up to Jiwoong in another very not straight display.

“I want to do more than just stand on the sidelines,” Taerae says. “And look at them. They’re
about to stick their tongues down each other’s throats.”

He turns his signature fuck-my-hole eyes on Jiwoong, who looks like he’s also forgetting
about the macarons.

“We need to bake them first,” Jiwoong says weakly. “Or all that aeration will go to waste.
Then we can. Yeah.”

“Sounds good to me.” Taerae now looks incredibly smug and sidles away from Jiwoong, then
picks up the piping bag of mango macaron that now lies abandoned on the counter. “Oi!
Newlyweds! Don’t fuck in my house!”

“We’re not!” Gyuvin shrieks, utterly scandalised, but it’s enough of a cue for Ricky to gather
his things and to start tugging Gyuvin out the kitchen, towards the front door. “I swear we’re
not!”

“Young love is so beautiful,” Jiwoong’s voice rings from the kitchen. “Enjoy it while you
can!”

By now, Ricky has got his coat and shoes on and his bag in his hands. It’s only a twenty-
minute walk back to their flat but he’s called a taxi, which will arrive in five minutes.
“Gyuvin, hurry up!” Ricky whines. He’s going to kiss him. He’s actually going to kiss him so
hard.

“Ricky, the fuck is going on?”

“We can talk at home,” Ricky gabbles, already trying to open the front door. His head is
dizzy.

As soon as the door slams, Ricky finds himself tugging Gyuvin into a death grip, nuzzling his
face into Gyuvin’s neck as if he’s trying to burrow inside it. He just needs to touch him. It
occurs to him dimly that Gyuvin was probably making all of this up to save their dating
claim.

Gyuvin’s clearly taken aback, but he still hugs Ricky back, one hand gently cupping the back
of his neck, fingers threading through strands of his hair, and other settling on his waist

“Maybe it would be better to talk now,” Gyuvin says. “Is it about earlier?”

Ricky looks up sharply. He can hear the taxi approaching them down the road.

It might be unfair of Ricky, especially if Gyuvin is genuinely confessing Ricky is his sexual
awakening, but Ricky doesn’t care anymore. The furrow of Gyuvin’s worried brows as he
lifts Ricky’s chin to look at his face closer drowns out any semblance of reason. All he can
focus on is the blood pounding in his ears, pressure mounting in his head.

It might be unfair, but Ricky gives Gyuvin his best bedroom eyes. He knows he’s hot as fuck.
And that some part of Gyuvin knows that. Eyes half-open, mouth slightly open, lips pouted
outwards.

“Home first,” Ricky insists, in barely more than a whisper.

Gyuvin’s eyes widen, and he exhales shakily.

“Yeah,” he says. “OK.”

He spends the entire taxi journey leaning on Gyuvin, stretching the seatbelt till he’s almost
lying on his lap. He wonders what Gyuvin thinks about this. There are lines that can be
crossed and then there’s this.

Gyuvin types in the security code and they rush into the elevator, watching the numbers
change until there’s a ping. Ricky unlocks the door and they at least have the presence of
mind to speedwalk into Gyuvin’s room and shut the door before Ricky pounces on him.

Ricky did say he was going to kiss him. Right on those chapped lips that need lip balm. It’s
whatever, Ricky has moist lips. It’ll balance out.

Gyuvin makes a choking noise as Ricky closes the distance, teeth scraping over Gyuvin’s
bottom lip. Then he’s kissing Ricky back, just as forcefully as Ricky was. There’s a staggered
waltz as they step backwards towards the bed, until Gyuvin falls back first, Ricky clambering
on top of him.
Now, he really isn’t a fan of the phrase ‘their tongues battled for dominance’, but it’s the best
way to describe it. Ricky feels himself let out a horribly embarrassing whimper when Gyuvin
reaches down to squeeze his ass, the two of them unconsciously grinding against each other.

It’s never been so desperate before. There’s spit sliding down their chins because the kiss has
gotten too wet and messy, turning sloppy in their shared enthusiasm. As they kiss, Ricky
slides his hand down Gyuvin’s chest, downwards till he’s feeling his hardness through his
trousers.

Gyuvin lets out a moan, hips bucking against Ricky’s thighs.

“Just keep lying there,” Ricky says, then breaks away and gets off the bed.

“Whuh?” Gyuvin says. He looks just as wrecked as Ricky feels, eyes unfocused and hazy.
His belt buckle clinks as Ricky undoes it. He doesn’t bother tugging Gyuvin’s trousers down
and simply pulls down the elastic band of his underwear to free his dick. Which is nineteen
centimetres as Gyuvin had described, and fully erect. “Ricky, what-”

Ricky’s already got his lips around Gyuvin’s cock, licking a circle around the head. It’s wide
and he can tell it’s gonna make his jaw ache if he keeps going. He pulls off to will saliva to
gather in his mouth and spits into his hand, trying to get everything wetter. Better slide.

Deepthroating is not his greatest skill. His mouth is small and he can barely get a few inches
of Gyuvin in his mouth before he starts wanting to choke. Luckily he’s only wearing a casual
shirt that he doesn’t mind getting messy for baking, because the collar feels wet. All that spit
sliding down his chin.

But Ricky has hands and what he can’t reach, he strokes.

Gyuvin’s producing quite the symphony of noise as Ricky gets into it, writhing on the bed
and fucking into Ricky’s mouth erratically, as if he has no control over himself.

“Rik, fuck, what the hell,” Gyuvin says, then lapses back into a series of moans and grunts.
Giving feels like receiving right now. Every sound from Gyuvin has Ricky so incredibly
turned on that he feels like he could maybe just come untouched in his pants right now.

“Mm,” Ricky mumbles. He’s trying not to let Gyuvin’s massive dick slip out his mouth. He’s
sucked quite a few dicks in his time, but it’d never been so gratifying for him as it is now. He
tries to take more in and feels the tip bump against the back of his throat, then Ricky tries his
best not to gag.

“God!” Gyuvin whines and then Ricky feels hands in his hair, tugging lightly. He isn’t sure if
Gyuvin is trying to pull him on or off his dick. “Ricky, I’m gonna-soon-if you don’t-”

In response, Ricky only hollows his cheeks further to increase the pressure. Gyuvin lets out a
cry of desperation and his hips judder. The taste in Ricky’s mouth gets incredibly bitter and
he tries not to choke on the absolute flood of come sprays down the back of his throat.
Ricky’s kneeling at the foot of the bed, cross-eyed in his concentration to not let any come
dribble onto the collar of his shirt, while Gyuvin is splayed out like a giant starfish, looking
like he’s just been hit on the head with his own baseball bat.

He pulls off, trying his best not to spill anything on his clothes. While he's okay with flour or
sugar getting on it, allowing come to stain it is going too far. In his focus, Ricky fails to
realise he is basically gargling a mouthful of come and coughs.

It’s hideous. It starts to dribble down his chin in white rivulets.

By this time, Gyuvin’s recovered enough from his knockout orgasm to sit up and stare at him.
His hair is immaculately tousled, despite no one having touched it. Maybe Gyuvin was
running his own hands through his hair because of Ricky’s mind-blowing oral prowess.

“Why-why aren’t you spitting it out?” Gyuvin croaks, cheeks rosy. His limp dick twitches
feebly. “Do you want a tissue or something?”

As if glugging Chinese herbal medicine, Ricky instead swallows heartily then wipes his lips.

“Tissue,” he says, stretching out a hand.

“Sweet Jesus,” Gyuvin replies and hands one over. “We really should talk but like…do you
want me to take care of that?”

He gestures at Ricky’s crotch. Ricky had almost forgotten about himself too. He considers it
briefly.

“Sure,” Ricky says and unbuckles his trousers, sliding them gracefully down his thighs.
“Have at it.” Then he flops backwards onto the bed.

“That’s such an unsexy thing to say,” Gyuvin mutters.

“Yeah but you find me sexy, don’t you?” Ricky jabs back. “Or will we be talking about that
later?”

“Later,” Gyuvin says heavily and continues to slide Ricky’s trousers completely off.

“You don’t need to pull them all the way down.” Ricky points out.

“I, um, wanted to try something,” Gyuvin said. “Cos you did too. Earlier.”

“You don’t have to blow me,” Ricky says, although he’s positively drooling at the idea.
“Like, you can just use your hands.”

“Well, I was thinking…never mind,” Gyuvin’s face flames and he decides it’s better to get to
it, as Ricky had said, and instead of normally sticking his hand down Ricky’s pants as usual
when they’re having a quickie, he pulls them down too, leaving Ricky’s bottom half
completely naked.
It’s starting to feel a lot more gay, and a lot less best-friend brojob. Ricky keeps it to himself
though, in case Gyuvin suddenly realises this too and freaks out, or worse, runs away. Is this
not pretty close to sex?

Ricky’s already pretty wet and Gyuvin’s hand slides easily up and down his length. This is
just the usual. Ricky’s familiar with it but now he’s so much more aware of those squelchy
feelings in his chest, it feels way more intense. It’s much harder to stay quiet and keep those
exhales from becoming louder moans.

Then Gyuvin’s other hand joins the party, trailing down to his balls, playing with them.
That’s new. They’re usually pretty neglected.

“Upping your game?” Ricky says, opening one eye to look at Gyuvin. Gyuvin’s biting down
on his bottom lip, looking very focused. He’s also getting hard again.

Then Gyuvin’s hand trails even further downwards, skating over Ricky’s perineum, to press a
single dry finger against Ricky’s asshole. All of Ricky’s nerves burst into flames.

He had not at all been prepared for that and startles so much that his dick slides out from
Gyuvin’s hands.

“Is-is that OK?” Gyuvin asks, now starting to look mortified. “I dunno, I just thought you
might like it…but, um, never mind.”

“Gyuvin, it’s fine,” Ricky says, also feeling himself turn scarlet. They probably look like two
boiled lobsters. “You can try.”

GAY SEX!?

Ahem. Does this mean, that Gyuvin would potentially be open to gay sex with Ricky? This
seems worlds away from his earlier declaration of alleged straightness. Or is Gyuvin just
falling into straight-man logic of it’s not gay if he doesn’t bottom?

The tip of Gyuvin’s saliva-soaked finger enters him and Ricky stops thinking about it. And
about anything in general.

If you told him that Gyuvin would have a finger up his ass two months ago, Ricky would
have laughed. And if you had told Ricky he would be immensely enjoying it, then Ricky
would have punched someone.

Gyuvin’s obviously inexperienced in the realm of fingering guys, but his fingers are long
enough that they brush against Ricky’s prostate easily – it’s not that hard to find, honestly
and then it’s all uphill from there.

With the added sensation of Gyuvin’s two fingers up his butt, Ricky can’t shut up at all. He
wails like a dying cat. His body is overwhelmed with the sensation.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky pants, ignoring the way his back is starting to arch off the bed. God, can
Gyuvni tell he’s coming off as too enthusiastic? “Gyuvin!”
“Yeah, you close?” Gyuvin murmurs. Ricky can only describe the look in his eyes as
entranced. “You gonna come for me, baby?”

Huh!?

Ricky is so flabbergasted that his mind lags well behind his body. He comes so hard that his
eyes roll back briefly and his vision goes all fuzzy. All the while, he’s still trying to process
what Gyuvin just said.

The aftershocks leave Ricky feeling like a soft drink, with carbonated bubbles tingling
throughout his body.

Gyuvin lies down beside him and Ricky automatically connects their lips again, despite the
fact the inside of his mouth still tastes like Gyuvin’s come.

Gyuvin kisses him back without hesitation this time, pressing his body against Ricky’s, till
they’re as packed as sardines in a can. It’s less frantic now the sexual energy has faded.

When Ricky opens his eyes to stare into Gyuvin’s, all he can see is panic reflected back at
him.

Ah. How exactly do they ‘bro’ their way out of this one? If Gyuvin isn’t prepared to accept
whatever the hell this is, and if he doesn’t have feelings for Ricky – he doesn’t think so, then
this friendship might as well be fucked. And Ricky can’t let that happen. He’ll take this weird
in-between over him and Gyuvin never talking.

“Ricky,” Gyuvin starts but is cut off by Ricky’s thumb pushing down on his lips. He is
effectively silenced.

“I’m tired, do you want to take a nap?”

“Ricky, you said we’d talk.”

“Later,” Ricky says and grabs Gyuvin from behind. “Wanna sleep.”

“OK, sure,” Gyuvin says with a sigh, letting Ricky become the big spoon. “That was fun.”

“I liked it,” Ricky agrees, feeling his eyelids droop. “We’ll have even better chemistry for the
next round.”

“Huh?”

“For the next round of the competition?”

“Oh yeah,” For some reason Gyuvin sounds crestfallen. “Yeah, good practice.”

They do not talk about it after they wake up. But for Ricky, this event lands someone on his
top ten most embarrassing moments, because despite how cool and suave he is, Ricky is a
dude. He’s still pretty cringe and embarrassing, because he’s just some guy. He sometimes
say ‘skrr’ unironically.
But dragging Gyuvin all the way home just because Ricky wanted to have his cock in his
mouth is some level of thirsty desperation he hadn’t even known he had possessed. He also
didn’t know that Gyuvin would be into fingering him, but that’s a can of worms he’ll open
later.

Well, after the nap, it’s actually Gunwook that wakes them. There’s a series of knocks on the
door that jolt Ricky out of sleep, but he’s still not fully conscious. The knocking intensifies
into outright banging.

“Dude, I think the door might break,” says a chipper voice that sounds eerily like Seok
Matthew.

“They aren’t picking up their phones!” Gunwook says, sounding muffled from behind the
door. “I just wanna check that they’re OK.”

“Maybe they’re fucking.”

“I don’t think so,” Gunwook says slowly. “I don’t know if they’re at that stage yet.”

“Have you seen the way they look at each other?”

“They’re both very stupid, okay?” Gunwook replies and that’s when the conversation
officially stops making any sense to Ricky. What does him being stupid have to do with it?

There’s a scrape and the click of a lock – Ricky now knows he needs to get a deadbolt fitted
into his room because Gunwook can apparently pick locks, then the door swings open.

The shriek from Gunwook is what helps Ricky realise that he is naked below the belt. Gyuvin
too.

“Where’s the fire?” Gyuvin yells, sitting bolt upright in bed all of a sudden. He jumps to his
feet, looking around in a rush, till he realises that he too is naked down below and had been
running around like a headless chicken, dick swinging like a freaking pendulum. “The fuck?”

“Looks like they had sex to me,” Matthew retorts, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow
at Gyuvin. His eyes rove over the bird nests that are their hair, the rumpled bedspread on
Gyuvin’s bed and their state of undress. “You should pay up.”

“We didn’t even have a bet going?”

“We didn’t have sex!” Gyuvin shouts, diving back into bed and covering both of them up.
“This isn’t what it looks like!”

“Why are you getting all shy now?” Matthew smirks. “Taerae and Jiwoong already told me
how you left their house just to bone.”

“We didn’t!" Gyuvin howls, although at this point he should really give up on this lost cause.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Matthew continues to probe. “You’re literally dating each other.
People who date each other commonly have sex.”
“Stop saying sex!” Gyuvin shouts, putting his hands over his ears.

Gunwook is unable to resist this chance to wind up Gyuvin and joins in.

“Intercourse!”

“Coitus!”

“Rumpy-pumpy!”

“Dumpster diving!”

“Browning the sausage!”

“Wetting the willy!”

“I’m just going to stop you right there,” Ricky interrupts, not at all sorry. Poor Gyuvin looks
scarred for life. “Yes, we’re a couple. We fuck. Gyuvin is still a prude, that’s all. We are
alive.”

Then Ricky lies back down on the bed, eyes closed. He wishes he could go back to sleep. In
his dream, Gyuvin hadn’t just stopped at fingers.

The next round is pretty uneventful, mostly because unlike the couple yoga challenge, there
was absolutely no way that Ricky or Gyuvin could have failed this one.

It was pretty simple, really. Couple makeover. Each partner creates a new look for the others
and votes decide which twelve couples make it to the next round. They’re both fashionistas,
so Gunwook doesn’t even bother with any advice and simply claps them on back.

Obviously, they take first place.

From then on, round five narrows twelve couples to eight, through a spot-the difference
challenge. The other couples get to change five things about one partner and the other partner
has to spot the differences.

Ricky was also confident about this one, because he pays close attention to the details of his
appearance and so does Gyuvin. Ricky’s chosen to be the one to spot the differences between
him and Gyuvin. He marches to the booth with a stool inside and sits down on the hard,
wooden thing. The outside is draped in a thick, black fabric that doesn’t let light through. The
contestants have five minutes to decide what to change about Gyuvin.

Zhang Hao and Hanbin had already taken their turn and Zhang Hao had found all five
differences in under a minute. He was so good that it that Ricky suspected he was cheating,
but with Zhang Hao it was possible that he was just that smart.
“And…time is up! Ricky, please identify any differences that you notice about Gyuvin!”
Seungkwan announces Ricky adjusts the collar of his shirt then emerges from the booth, to
scan Gyuvin up and down.

“One of his socks are slightly lower than before,” Ricky says, then squints. “He’s got one
more button done up on his shirt.”

Just to add to the fun of the show, he throws in a witty comment.

“He also looks dumber than five minutes ago.”

“Hey!”

Yeri and Seungkwan accept this as a joke and gesture for him to continue. If too many people
identify all five differences, then they’ll be ranked in how fast those differences were found,
so Ricky doesn’t have much time to spare.

“Someone’s retied his shoelaces,” Ricky decides, with a note of uncertainty. “Gyuvin always
double-knots his.”

There’s a surprised murmur from the audience who must have not been expecting him to get
it.

That’s only three differences though. There’s still two more to go. Ricky looks Gyuvin up and
down several times, then walks over to spin him around. He leans in extra close to look at his
face in detail.

“Someone’s drawn a fake mole on him with eyeliner or something.”

“Very good!” Yeri cheers. “Ricky only has one more difference left to find before he
completes this challenge.”

Gyuvin looks like he’s bursting to say something, but keeps it zipped for the sake of the
competition. It shouldn’t be too hard. Gyuvin and Ricky had carefully memorised what the
other was wearing for the sake of today’s round and had practiced several times. They’d
dressed plainly, so not too much could be changed, such as one of Ricky’s earrings being
removed.

“I think it might be his hair,” Ricky says, but he’s not sure. “Or something else on his
clothes.”

After another moment of observation, he frowns. No, they still look the same. The sound of
the timer ticks behind him, and the pressure mounts. Ricky knows that he’s already slower
than Zhang Hao’s time right now. But it’s more important to find all five differences as that’s
compulsory for them to pass this round.

“They’ve changed his…hands?” Ricky tries, hoping he isn’t falling into a trap. “I swear
Gyuvin usually has his right hand clasped over his left, but now his left hand is over his
right.”
“Ding ding ding! One hundred points!” Seungkwan shouts and the crowd burst into applause.
“A very impressive performance by Shen Ricky!”

And with that, they’re already in the quarterfinals, the number of final couples having been
whittled down to eight. There’s him and Gyuvin, Zhang Hao and Hanbin, Kun and Ten, Jimin
and Minjeong, Yuqi and Seoyeon, Changbin and Hyunjin, Minho and Jisung and the token
straight couple, Chan and Sana.

There ends up being another celebratory dinner with Zhang Hao and Hanbin afterwards, with
the bonus addition of Matthew and Gunwook in a malatang place that Zhang Hao had picked.
Luckily for Ricky, the hotpot is divided into two sections, one spicy and one with clear broth.

Gunwook had hugged both Gyuvin and Ricky upon learning that they had made it to the final
eight, all three of them sporting evil triplet grins. The path to a free holiday grows ever closer.

Ricky wonders if Gunwook will ever tell them where all this information on the competition
has been coming from. He’d said he’d only reveal his source if they won.

“To protect my inside source,” He’d said solemnly.

“Is this a triple date?” Zhang Hao asks, with a glint in his eye. “Gunwook and Matthew?”

Ricky and Gyuvin peer at them in interest too. For Gunwook’s sake (and because Ricky had
been so preoccupied with his own issues), neither them have really pressed the issue of
what’s going on between them tow, preferring to let him work it out himself.

But it has been sounding good. Matthew’s been coming more over and he disappears into
Gunwook’s room, not emerging till hours later, looking thoroughly debauched, usually with
multiple hickeys down his neck and chest. It often looks like he’d had a fight with a vacuum
cleaner and the vacuum cleaner had came out victorious.

Then Matthew goes into the shower, and sometimes Ricky hears the door open and close
from his room, suggesting Gunwook has also gone in. He would call it dating, but then him
and Gyuvin seem like a couple, but are not actually dating.

“We’re official,” Gunwook confirms shyly, just as Matthew blurts out ‘hell yeah!’. They both
freeze and stare at each other for a second, before raucous laughter erupts across the table.

“Finally, bro!” Gyuvin cries and pulls Gunwook in for a one-armed bro hug. “And you too,
Matthew-hyung!”

“I knew it,” is what Ricky chooses to say. “Mostly because Taerae and Jiwoong seem like
they have hearts in their eyes for each other and it’s been like that for weeks.”

The atmosphere instantly goes awry. Matthew and Gunwook both stiffen up. Gyuvin pokes
Ricky in the butt from where they’re sitting together, at an angle where no one else will
notice.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Hanbin says, all confused hamster face. “Also,
what?”
“I knew,” Zhang Hao chimes in quietly. “That Taerae and Jiwoong were working things out.”

“Why doesn’t anyone ever tell me anything?” Hanbin mutters with a frown, but he doesn’t
look mad. “This is just like Ddungjjungham all over again, hyung.”

There is currently a Ddungjungham sitting at the table with them, dressed in his own plastic
yellow raincoat to protect him from any splatters of spicy malatang oil during their meal.

“Only because I caught them basically fucking in the library,” Zhang Hao says with a stab of
irritation. “Then was sworn, no, threatened into secrecy.”

He raises an eyebrow at Hanbin who accepts this explanation without any further complaint.
To prolong the silence, a waiter then arrives and starts to put down plates of meat in front of
them.

“They were doing what?” Gunwook shrieks, scandalised. Lamb slices, beef slices, pork
slices, ribeye and sirloin. Ricky also spots some shrimp paste and fish balls. The hotpot is
gonna be so good, he’s already drooling.

“That’s why I never mentioned it,” Zhang Hao says in a way that is both snappy and calm.

“I think we also have some squid coming,” Ricky chimes in and frantically starts to add
vegetables to the clear broth. “Let’s start cooking.”

“No, you still haven’t explained,” Hanbin says in confusion. “What on earth do Taerae and
Jiwoong – congrats to them, have to do with Gunwook and Matthew?”

“Nothing,” Ricky says and tries his big pouty gaze on Hanbin, the one with the shiny boba
eyes. He’s aware Hanbin has a weak spot for him and Ricky never hesitates to take advantage
of it. It’s catching up to him that he shouldn’t have said anything.

Gunwook had literally sworn them to secrecy about ever mentioning the three-way
relationship between them. Yet Ricky had still blabbed and worst off all, he had done it in
front of the person who he had promised to keep the secret for. He can’t even play it off or
beg Zhang Hao to not tell anyone he knows too or something.

He needs Hanbin to drop it.

“C’mon hyung,” Ricky says, in a poor attempt at changing the subject. “The potato slices are
really good. And the tofu.”

He tips both of these items into the sides of each hotpot base and they plop in with a splash.

“I think some oil just landed on Ddungjjungham,” Matthew points out acidly, giving Ricky
and Gunwook a death glare. “Right on his face.”

Hanbin lets out a little scream that causes half the restaurant to turn in their direction. Zhang
Hao begins to rustle in his bag.
“No, hyung!” Hanbin scowls, grabbing Zhang Hao’s hands. “I don’t want another damn
version!”

Gunwook looks very sheepish. It seems like he wasn’t supposed to have told them either. But
best friend privileges will aways prevail.

To their advantage and Matthew’s quick thinking – Ddungjjungham is actually safe and is
now kitted with an umbrella, the devastating emotional impact of oil staining
Ddjungjjungham is enough for Hanbin to forget what they were talking about and drop the
subject.

When most of the hotpot has boiled away and they’re left fishing for overcooked morsels in
the broth, too full to order any more, the conversation turns towards more adulty stuff, like
their future and their careers. The atmosphere becomes sombre as they’re reminded that
eventually they will all part and go their own way in the world.

“I’m thinking of doing a Masters after graduation,” Zhang Hao confesses, rubbing a hand
over Hanbin’s knee. “Hanbinnie has a year of industry placement and this was we can stay
together till he graduates too.”

“Yeah, but I know what Hao-hyung wants is to do that Masters in China,” Hanbin says with a
frown. “He can easily get into really good universities there.”

“Baobei, you know that’s not what is most important.”

“I don’t want to hinder your career,” Hanbin insists. His eyes are big and sparkly but Ricky
could also put it down to the spice of the mala hotpot. Everyone’s lips are glistening and oily,
swollen from the amount of capsaicin in their food. Except Ricky, because he only ever ate
out the plain broth.

“If that’s Hao-hyung wants to stay here, then he should,” shrugs Matthew. “I believe in him.
He’ll be successful in whatever he does.”

“And,” Ricky chips in. “Career success isn’t everything. I’m sure Hao-hyung knows what his
priorities are. You, and also Yujin. Doesn’t he have another year left till he graduates high
school too?”

Hanbin slumps in his chair, looking slightly defeated. He clearly still feels like he’s holding
Zhang Hao back from something great.

“But there’s also the money,” Hanbin says. “I don’t know if we can afford to rent here
another year, even with both of us working. Yujinnie’s parents do contribute too but our
stupid landlord is still raising the rate.”

“Um,” Zhang Hao says. “We do, actually.”

“Problem solved?” Gunwook says hopefully. “Hyung, I’m pretty sure you would do the same
thing for Hao-hyung, don’t feel so burdened that he’d do the same for you. Maybe you
should stop focusing on what could happen and just go with the flow.”
“Wait, but how?” Hanbin insists, turning to face Zhang Hao. “I have my dance lesson stuff
and you have your violin gigs but that can’t possibly cover it all!”

Ricky bites down violently on his bottom lip to maintain a poker face. Ah, the anonymous
benefactor who has secretly been adding bonuses to Zhang Hao’s performances. Good deeds
won’t always bring good rewards but it sure as hell feels good when it pays off.

“Why do you look like you’re holding in a shit?” Gyuvin whispers into his ear. In response,
Ricky kicks him in the shins underneath the table. To his credit, Gyuvin doesn’t make a
sound, but his eyes water in pain.

“Then you two will graduate the same time as us if you stay on another year!” Gunwook says
cheerfully. “Unless we do a Masters too…”

“Then Hao-hyung can just do a PhD,” Gyuvin jokes.

“Are you three still going to live together next year?” Zhang Hao asks curiously. “I mean, I
know you’re all best friends, but now you and Gyuvin are a thing and Matthew and Gunwook
are a thing, are you going to get your own places?”

Ah, the guilt of lying to your trusted older hyung and ge. Ricky, Gyuvin and Gunwook are
left speechless. None of them had really thought about it and Ricky had just assumed they
would be staying in the same flat for the next year, the three of them. Matthew coming into
Gunwook’s life had been a totally unexpected factor.

But also, him and Gyuvin are still blatantly lying about being a couple yet dear, sweet,
oblivious Hao-gege is asking Ricky whether they’re going to live together.

“We haven’t really thought about it,” Gyuvin speaks first, looking very surprised. “I just
assumed things would be the same.”

“Yeah,” Matthew echoes. “I don’t think me and Gunwook have to live together, although that
would be nice too.” He shrugs.

Realising the conversation is getting a little awkward, Hanbin hastily switches the topic to his
upcoming dance showcase then the bill is paid and they go head off home. Zhang Hao and
Hanbin take their leave, leaving the four of them.

About five minutes later, their paths diverge yet again.

“I’m going to stay at Matthew-hyung’s place for tonight,” Gunwook announces, and him and
Matthew swiftly march away.

Four is suddenly two, and it’s just him and Gyuvin walking together. It was warm out earlier,
but now the sun has just set, the night chill is creeping into the air. The streets are still lively
and bustling but as they walk out of the throng of restaurants and bars towards their flat,
everything ripples to a standstill. The only sounds present are the hum of the cicadas in the
bushes.
There’s a sentimental feel to the evening and after the conversation about their futures, Ricky
is starkly reminded that there’s only so many times him and Gyuvin will still walk this path
home.

“Have you ever thought about what will happen after the contest?” Ricky musters up the
courage to ask, fuelled by terrifying concept of change.

“After we win the contest, more like,” Gyuvin corrects, then seems to think about what Ricky
is actually asking. “What do you mean?”

“Us,” Ricky says, looking straight ahead at the road. “Like, our dating thing. We can’t keep it
going forever, surely. Zhang Hao and Hanbin-hyung literally think we’re going to move in
with them. My mum thinks we’re going to get married. I’m starting to feel pretty bad lying to
everyone about something so big.”

Gyuvin remains very silent throughout Ricky’s little speech.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Gyuvin says quietly, and it comes out strained. “But, I
mean, would it be so bad to live together, just you and me, especially if Matthew and
Gunwook do stay together?”

Of course it wouldn’t because I have a crush on you, Ricky thinks.

“No, but you know that’s not the point,” Ricky says, feeling weary all of a sudden. Ever since
he’s realised he’s down bad for Gyuvin, all their little brojobs have been doing a number on
his vulnerable little heart. “We need to break up eventually. Stop doing everything.”

He won’t say it out loud, but Gyuvin should be well aware of what Ricky is referencing.
Gyuvin can’t possible think things can carry on like this forever? Ricky will explode well
before that. And they have to just, break up. How is Ricky meant to explain they’ve actually
lied about being a couple to win a free holiday and were fucking around, but no, they’re just
bros?

“We need to break up?” Gyuvin says, like the thought has never occurred to him. “I mean,
yeah, I suppose you’re right. Like you said, it can’t go on forever.”

Is Ricky simply delusional or is there a hint of sadness in Gyuvin’s voice?

“Why don’t we discuss what to do after we win the contest?” Gyuvin says. He’s stopped
walking, so Ricky pauses alongside him. “I don’t want to think about change, it’s scary. Let’s
just enjoy the present.”

Spoken like a true problem-avoider, but Ricky is very much onboard with it. He hadn’t
wanted to ask Gyuvin about their arrangement and had broken his promise of leaving Gyuvin
to speak about it. But if Gyuvin’s willing to let their relationship limbo between friendship
and lovers for now, Ricky will take it.

He takes Gyuvin’s hand in his, now an automatic reflex. They’re so accustomed to holding
hands everywhere they go.
 “I don’t see anyone on the road though,” Gyuvin says.

“Method acting,” Ricky assures him, and tries to quell the flutter of his heart.

Chapter End Notes

yeah, i didnt account for ricky suddenly going into heat in my chapter plan but he
needed gyuvin really bad so that's how we ended up here.

also skipped 2 rounds bc they're such a headache for me to write in 'full' lol, but wow we
are down to quarterfinals...with only 3 rounds left. and they still haven't sorted their shit
out lmaoooo
 Snails and Worms
Chapter Summary

“This is why you’re with Gunwook,” Gyuvin says. “Freaks of a feather flock together,
or something like that.”

Chapter Notes

ive added a particular favourite tiktok of mine into here, and it's a sizeable reference so
let me know if you catch it.

slow updates i know :/ im sad abt it too

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Ricky had been reluctant to let go of Gyuvin’s hand even when they’d arrived home. In an
unusually clingy manner, Ricky kept his hand clamped around Gyuvin’s even as he went to
the toilet, forcing Gyuvin to awkwardly stand there as Ricky peed.

“I mean, you’ve seen it all before,” Ricky says, whipping it out casually.

“Still,” Gyuvin says, red-faced and facing the wall. “You could just let go of my hand.”

Ricky ignores him.

It had been a quite a weird end to the evening out. Surprisingly, Gyuvin doesn’t complain
about how he’s been unofficially handcuffed to Ricky and kind of just follows him around the
house. Most likely, it tied back to the conversation earlier. The end is in sight. He’s said those
words out loud, and Ricky can’t take them back. The conversation about moving in together
had made things all too real.

So, with whatever time they have left – whether it’s until the end of the holiday or a bit after,
Ricky decides he’s simply going to treasure every moment they have as an almost-couple.

“Are you going to let go of my hand soon?” Gyuvin says, starting to get twitchy on the sofa.
“I’m going to shit myself soon.”

Reluctantly, Ricky releases Gyuvin from his hold. It is kind of nice to be able to use both of
his hands, he supposes.
“Don’t take too long,” Ricky says. He’s dropped all pretences today and is feeling
surprisingly raw, vulnerable and honest. He wishes he could burrow so close into Gyuvin that
they entwine, kind of like that couple in the freaky horror manga Gunwook had showed them
a few months ago. The boy and the girl had turned into two snaky creatures, twisted
themselves into a plait then plummeted into the depths of the sea.

Okay, maybe not quite like that.

Gyuvin gives Ricky’s shoulder a reassuring pat.

“I’ll empty my bowels as fast as I can, Ricky,” he assures him, shooting two finger guns at
him. If it was anyone else, Ricky would have got the ick. It is icky, but it’s bearable coming
from Gyuvin. Adorable, even. Ack. It’s all circling back round. Ricky constantly whined
about how disgusting and lovey-dovey Hanbin and Zhang Hao are, only to now be affected
by the same disease.

Gyuvin rockets off to the toilet, leaving Ricky alone with his thoughts. He starts his evening
skincare routine, removing all his make-up and changing into comfier clothes.

There’s a lot to unpack. The whole thing is just so complicated.

Then Ricky frowns to himself.

Well, not really.

TLDR: Ricky is in love with his best friend. They are fake dating to win a contest. They’re
going to break up after they win and then Ricky will nurse his broken heart and unrequited
love forever.

That’s all there is to it really.

He tosses his makeup-stained cotton pads in the wastepaper basket on the floor. It doesn’t
sound like a very good time for him, does it?

There’s option two, but it seems pretty ridiculous. In which he and Gyuvin do not break up
and just keep ‘dating’, but this simply isn’t going to work. At some point, Gyuvin would need
to settle down with a real partner who he actually loves. He can’t imagine Gyuvin agreeing to
this option. Adding onto that, Ricky’s not sure how much faking he could do before he loses
it altogether. And he’s already coming pretty close to his last straw.

There’s a third and final option but Ricky’s already shot it down. He could take a risk and
just…confess to Gyuvin. Tell his best friend that he’s fallen in love with him.

What would he even say?

“Hey, I know we were fake dating before and you’re not gay. But can we keep doing that,
except for real?”

It sounds stupid in even his head.

If Gyuvin rejects him, Ricky will be forced to change his name and go into hiding. Or kill
himself. If it ruins their friendship permanently, then Ricky will just kill himself, full stop.

On the teeny-tiny off-chance that Gyuvin somehow reciprocates Ricky’s feelings, then
everything is rainbows and sunshine, Ricky supposes. But it’s the risk of everything else
crashing down around him that stops him from trying.

“Ricky, I’m back and ready for bed,” Gyuvin says brightly.

Ricky looks at his best friend in what he considers to be a dramatic, lovestruck way. He takes
a really good look at him.

Gyuvin is kind and sweet. He puts up with too much of Ricky’s bullshit but also creates most
of said bullshit. He’s got toothpaste smeared around his mouth and his brown hair is damp
from the shower.

Ricky takes in Gyuvin’s knobbly knees and crooked smile, the crinkles around his eyes and
his chest starts hurting like someone’s cleaving it in two. God. He doesn’t just want this man
as his boyfriend. Ricky wants to marry him. He wants to put a ring on Gyuvin’s finger and
for them to promise to love each other until death do us part.

Ricky might call Gyuvin a dumbass on the daily, but he’s smart and hardworking to boot. He
cares for people so deeply that he forgets to put himself first at times. Ricky wants to be the
person who does, when Gyuvin forgets. To remind Gyuvin to love himself.

I love you, Kim Gyuvin. I fucking love you, you stupid, stupid, idiot.

Ricky doesn’t realise he’s crying till Gyuvin’s eyes widen in shock and he’s cleared the room
in two strides to be at Ricky’s side.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” Gyuvin says, crouching down beside the stool Ricky’s
sitting at to look up at him. “What’s wrong?”

Ricky’s lip wobbles.

“Nothing,” he says, cursing his emotions. “I’m just tired.”

He hastily wipes at the corners of his eyes and stands up.

“I’ll go wash up now.”

Ricky doesn’t expect Gyuvin to suddenly grab him at the elbows, spinning him around so
they’re face to face. Gyuvin’s eyebrows are downturned, and he’s frowning as he gnaws at
his bottom lip.

Oh, how Ricky wishes Gyuvin was his. The thought only threatens to make him tear up
again.

It’s quiet in the bedroom, save for the sound of Ricky’s shaky breathing, coupled with the odd
sniffle.
“You can tell me anything, you know,” Gyuvin says seriously, looking right into Ricky’s
eyes. “I’ll always be there for you. You’re my best friend.”

And that’s exactly the problem, Ricky thinks. He smiles bitterly.

“I know, Gyu,” Ricky says. “I promise, it’s nothing. I just need to sleep.”

He walks to the bathroom, his heart pounding in his ears. He needs to get a grip.

When he returns, Gyuvin is in his bed. Ricky climbs in and ever so naturally, like breathing,
Gyuvin wraps his arms around him.

“Night, Rik.”

“Night.”

The quarterfinals are filmed a little differently. Ricky and Gyuvin already know what it’s
going to be, thanks to Gunwook but they still weren’t expecting to be split up immediately
upon entering the building.

Another perk of making it so far into the contest is they no longer have to wait around for the
camera crew to set up, as the scale of this round is smaller. It’s beginning to feel like a real
TV show, with Ricky and Gyuvin now having to do those interviews in a quiet room. The
producers want to know what they think of the other contestants so Ricky and Gyuvin gladly
fan the reality show flames between them and Zhang Hao and Hanbin, swearing to take them
down.

“They’re our rivals, the targets we’ve set our sights on in this contest,” Ricky says, looking
directly into the camera. “The world has seen enough of them. They need to move over.
We’re the next It Couple on this campus.”

It was cringey and cliché but the producers loved it, clapping and high-fiving amongst
themselves. They also gave Gyuvin similar cues for interview and the two of them exchange
information on the things they’ve said.

“I said we’re going to be so disgusting that Hanbin-hyung and Hao-hyung pale in

comparison,” Gyuvin says with satisfaction. They’re waiting for their turn on the sidelines,
overlapping with each other so thoroughly that they could be Siamese twins. He drops a kiss
to Ricky’s hair. “My sweetie-pie.”

“Watch the hair,” Ricky growls through gritted teeth. “Honeybun.”

The audience don’t need to know that Hanbin and Zhang Hao are close friends of theirs. The
rivalry angle has allegedly been great at drawing viewers into the show, with rabid discussion
online of their beef.
During their official quarterfinals meeting, the three of them had sat solemnly in the meeting
room, which was funnily enough, Matthew’s room. Much to their surprise, Matthew had also
come in and joined them. Ricky assumes that it’s because Matthew is clued onto their evil
scheme as Gunwook’s boyfriend and doesn’t make too much of it.

“I figured that now we’re this deep into the contest, and me and Matt are official…”
Gunwook grins dopily at his boyfriend, who beams back at him. They honestly give Hanbin
and Zhang Hao a run for their money. “I figured I could share the source of my insider
information with you two.”

Ricky stares.

“So what’s the source?” He asks flatly. Besides him, Gyuvin lets out a snort.

Gunwook gestures at Matthew, who winks at Ricky. Ricky wrinkles his brow.

“Is he going to tell me the source?” Ricky asks, still confused. Gyuvin facepalms.

“Babe,” Gyuvin starts then coughs. “I mean, Ricky. Are you okay?”

“What?” Ricky snaps at him. “What’s not okay?”

“Matthew is the source, you blockhead.”

“Says one blockhead to another,” Ricky mutters under his breath, quiet enough for it to not be
audible.

“Shut up,” Ricky tells him. “I knew that.”

“Of course you did,” Gyuvin agrees sarcastically. “Just like how you knew the sun turns into
the moon at night.”

“I was five!” Ricky hisses. “Don’t start. You convinced yourself you got bitten by a worm
last year. They don’t even have teeth!”

“For real?” Matthew interjects, looking utterly amused. “On the other hand, snails have
twenty thousand teeth. They’re harder than diamonds.”

It’s so random that for once, Ricky and Gyuvin actually stop arguing to stare at Matthew
together.

“This is why you’re with Gunwook,” Gyuvin says. “Freaks of a feather flock together, or
something like that.”

“Yeah, it’s actually birds,” Gunwook says, rolling his eyes. “And I’ll have you know that
some snails cannibalise each other.”

“Weren’t we talking about Matthew being your insider source on contest information,” Ricky
says, saving them all from further snail trivia and bringing them back to the original purpose
of the meeting. Maybe it was slightly his fault that they went off-topic, but if he’s to blame,
so is Gyuvin.

“Yeah, that,” Gunwook says. “It’s kind of crazy how it happened.”

Long story short, Gunwook had chanced across Matthew in a strange coincidence. As part of
Gunwook’s 101 extracurriculars, he sometimes volunteers as part of the university helpline,
to direct any students with problems to proper avenues of support.

This is set before the party, before Matthew and Gunwook fucked, after poor Yujin sprained
his wrist. It’s part of the hidden lore that Ricky never managed to unlock during his gym
sessions with Matthew.

Matthew had called about something inane – neither of them remember what is anymore but
Gunwook had recognised his voice. They were really hitting it off on the university helpline
of all things and one thing had led to another, then Gunwook was meeting Matthew at the
student restaurant near the Student Wellbeing centre.

Matthew, being the blabbermouth he was, dropped that he had overheard details of the
contest from a friend and knew someone who also blabbed to him about the different rounds
– someone called Mark, who was also friends with Yeri.

So all of the secret meetings between Matthew and Gunwook hadn’t all been dates, some had
actually been recon meetings to gather information.

“They still sound like they were dates though,” Gyuvin says. “The meetings were just an
excuse. Or part of the date agenda.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” Gunwook glowers. “So, that’s that. I figured Matthew can just
directly tell you what he knows.”

“Yeah, so this round is going to be testing couples on how well they know each other,”
Matthew shares. “Essentially, they’re going to ask you personal questions about each other,
which might be a little juicy.”

“Sounds easy,” Ricky replies and indeed, he thinks he’s got it in the bag. “But what kind of
juicy questions are we talking about?”

“I reckon the producers are going to want saucy stuff,” Gunwook says. “Think back to what
Zhang Hao and Hanbin were revealing last year. First kisses, first dates, exes and that kind of
things. And then some cuter stuff like remembering each other’s favourite things and facts
about each other.”

Ricky doesn’t know shit about Gyuvin’s ex though, other than the fact she exists. He’s
cooked if they ask him any details.

“But I don’t think it’s just about what you get right or wrong,” Matthew says, stroking his
chin thoughtfully. “It’s also about how you answer it. I believe it’s not down to how many
questions you get right. The audience votes their favourite couples now.”
“So this round is just a popularity contest,” Gunwook summarises. “Don’t worry about
getting things wrong. Your goal is to entertain the audience.”

Ricky recalls his words and calms down at the venue. It’s getting livelier each round, as the
audience now can identify all the couples by name and there’s even people holding banners
and pictures of him and Gyuvin, rooting for them.

Maybe if him and Gyuvin were K-pop idols, life would feel something like this.

“I’ve never really asked you about your exes though,” Gyuvin takes the opportunity to ask
him. “You should run through a few with me, while we have time.”

“It’s not like you tell me about yours though,” Ricky says, feeling cagey. “You should go
first.”

“I mean, there’s nothing to say, really.” Gyuvin shrugs helplessly. “Not much happened and it
wasn’t that deep. Like, I don’t know what you want to know.”

“Her name, for starters?” Ricky suggests dryly.

“I don’t know if that’s really relevant,” Gyuvin says, shooting a look at the ceiling, as if the
right answer will appear there. “Just know what she has nothing on you, baby.”

And like that, Gyuvin manages to worm his way out of it. Maybe there had been something
written on the ceiling.

“So, your exes?” Gyuvin chimes, pulling them back to the start.

“No one important either,” Ricky says with a shrug. “A few girls when I was teenager before
I realised I was gay. A few people in high school. I dated a nice guy called Seungeon for two
years then we split up before university.

“Wait,” Gyuvin says, looking thunderstruck. “You never said you dated someone for two
years! That’s literally how long I’ve known you!”

Ricky shrugs. Him and Seungeon had just been lonely and gay, both of them had known it
wasn’t serious and they would part ways eventually. They just got along pretty well and were
attracted to each other. Sexually compatible. Kind of like him and Gyuvin before Ricky had
his Realisation Moment.

“How have I never heard about this?” Gyuvin demands, squishing Ricky’s cheeks with his
long fingers and forcing Ricky’s chin towards him. The onlookers in the crowd start howling
behind them at the obscene display but neither of them notice.

“Yew never ashked,” Ricky answers the best he can, with his lips smushed together. Gyuvin
releases him, looking awfully conflicted. “It never came up?”

“I can’t believe you,” Gyuvin says and somehow, he almost sounds mad at Ricky. Which
only makes Ricky feel a sting of irritation. Why does Gyuvin have the audacity to be mad at
him when at least Ricky can tell Gyuvin the name of his ex-boyfriend?
“I just can’t believe it,” Gyuvin sighs to himself again and Ricky jerks his head in the other
direction.

“At least I can say his name,” Ricky says haughtily. “Yoo Seungeon. We still catch up time to
time. We follow each other on Instagram and I have his Kakaotalk.”

“You do?!” Gyuvin says, the point completely flying over his head and plummeting into the
depths of hell. “Have I ever met him? Who is this guy?”

Across the room, Gunwook is desperately face-palming and trying to signal SOS to them in
semaphore. It appears the students on the committee have noticed their little tiff and are
starting to pan into their drama, their tense body language extremely obvious. A portion of
people are no longer paying attention to the questions between Zhang Hao and Hanbin are
openly staring at them.

“Why do you need to know?” Ricky says, biting back venom in his voice. It’s not like they’re
dating for real. Gyuvin doesn’t get to act like he’s-he’s jealous or something. Or is he just
surprised that someone would actually like Ricky enough to date him for so long?

“Surprisingly, I’m quite the catch,” Ricky says evenly, plastering a fake smile at Gyuvin. “A
lot of people want to be dating me, you know.”

“I know that, sweetheart,” Gyuvin says. Again, with the pet names. He looks as if he’s trying
to figure out whether to be angry or not. Now he just looks slightly confused. “Me included.”

It looks like Gunwook has finally managed to catch his attention. A hard poke to Ricky’s side
makes him realise where they’re having their not-so-little tiff.

“We can talk about it later,” Ricky decides, uncrossing his arms and settling back into
Gyuvin’s chest. “After this round, puppy.”

“Right,” Gyuvin replies in a strangled voice.

As expected, the crowd eat up every word Zhang Hao and Hanbin say. Zhang Hao is sassy
and regularly makes sarcastic quips towards the crowd, mocking them in a way that causes
everyone to giggle. Hanbin just radiates sainthood with his smile and his soft replies. Any
question about Zhang Hao has been beaming and it’s (pathetically) clear how down bad he is.

Zhang Hao isn’t any better, eyes repeatedly darting towards the partition that separates him
from Hanbin. Both of them are visible to the audience, as they want to film each couple’s
reaction to the other’s questions.

During Jimin and Minjeong’s round, Ricky and Gyuvin have to follow the crew to get mic’ed
up for their turn.

They’ve stopped squabbling about their exes, but there is a bit of a strained atmosphere
between them. Ricky only hopes it doesn’t show. At least their selling point is the fact that
they’re always arguing.
“Kiss for good luck?” Ricky ends up offering diplomatically to clear the air. His heart rockets
as he asks. He can see the cogs churning in Gyuvin’s head before he nods.

“We can fight after we win,” Gyuvin agrees and they both lean in and bump their foreheads
against each other.

“Fuck!” Ricky squeezes his eyes shut with a grimace, then feels a feather light press of lips
on his forehead.

No fair. Ricky wants to get his turn too. He blinks one eye open and wrenches Gyuvin in by
the collar, plopping a nice wet kiss on his cheek.

His lip gloss leaves a faint imprint on Gyuvin’s cheek. Gyuvin frowns at him and
instinctively raises his sleeve to wipe at his face.

Ricky catches his hand.

“Leave it on,” he mouths as the sound crew motion for them to shut the fuck up because their
mics are going to be switched on. “Looks good.”

Gyuvin’s going to look so claimed by Ricky in front of everyone. It makes him feel giddy. So
giddy that he’s not even really mad about Gyuvin’s ex anymore.

“Next up to the panel, we have the up-and-coming rivals of last year’s champions, Ricky and
Gyuvin!”

The two of them step up to the platform to cheers and shouts, which Ricky wryly notes are
louder than the other contestants.

Seungkwan and Yeri gesture for them to take their seats at either side of the partition.

On Ricky’s side, Seungkwan stays beside him, while Yeri is on Gyuvin’s side. He can see the
whole crowd and makes out Gunwook’s thumbs up.

They’ve got this.

“Want to toss a coin for who gets to answer the question first?” Yeri asks. Ricky chooses
heads and Gyuvin tails. The coin flips and yeah, it’s Ricky’s turn first. They’re both
responding to the same questions.

“Do you want to start off with the good, bad or ugly?” Seungkwan asks Ricky teasingly. He’s
wearing a bowtie, like a formal talk show host.

“Let’s start with good,” Ricky says. “If we get mad at each other early on, I won’t be able to
say anything nice about Gyuvin later on.”

This provokes laughter from the audience.

“Let’s go then,” Yeri says. “We have eight questions, as you’ve heard already. Some will be
the same as the other couples, but a few are wildcards, so be warned.”
“Number one, what do you love most about your partner?”

Ricky hums under his breath, looking upwards at the bright lights.

“That’s easy,” he says calmly. “Gyuvin’s caring. Not just to me, but everyone. He’s full of
love.”

Seungkwan coos in adoration, nodding approvingly.

“It’s what drew me in from the very start,” Ricky adds. “Even when my Korean wasn’t as
good, he was always patient with me and included me in everything.”

“Alright,” Yeri says and there’s a shuffle as it’s Gyuvin’s turn. “Fire away.”

“Everything,” Gyuvin says beside him. He makes it sound rather sincere. “It’s hard to pick
something in particular. I love how Ricky is nice but pretends he isn’t. I love how focused he
gets when he’s excited about something. I love how reliable he is. I also love-”

There’s a pause as Gyuvin hesitates.

“Someone’s whipped,” Yeri comments snidely. “Did you want to keep going?”

“I’ll keep everyone here all day if I do,” Gyuvin says.

Ricky’s chest starts to ache again. He badly wants to push the partition out the way and jump
on Gyuvin. His fingers itch so Ricky pushes his hands under his thighs and tries to look
focused.

“Next, what’s the most romantic thing Gyuvin has done for you?”

Ricky skips the vulnerability and settles for a comedic answer. It’s a complete lie, but it’ll be
memorable.

“Let me hold his dick when he pees,” Ricky deadpans. There’s a choking noise on the other
side of the partition.

“Okay…that was unexpected!” Seungkwan says. “Gyuvin?”

“When Ricky drew a portrait of me for my birthday,” Gyuvin answers. “We weren’t even
dating yet, but I was touched.”

The next question is also simple enough: if you could change one thing about your partner,
what would it be?

Ricky figures to win this, they need a mix of funny, honest and romantic answers. He just
answers that he wishes Gyuvin would take better care of himself. Gyuvin says he wish Ricky
did his make-up faster, which makes him scowl. They’re not allowed to talk to each other
during this, so Ricky rolls his eyes at the audience instead.
They move into the more antagonistic questions, like what Gyuvin’s most annoying habit is,
which is how he regularly jumps on Ricky and squashes him. For Ricky, it’s how messy he
leaves the bathroom.

No, they wouldn’t break up with each other, even for a billion won.

“I already have that,” Ricky declares grandly. “A billion won couldn’t get me a Kim Gyuvin
anyway.”

“I might,” Gyuvin says. “I’m not sure Ricky is worth the trouble.”

Their Tom-and-Jerry routine is going brilliantly.

“Would you still love Gyuvin if he was a worm?”

Ricky considers it. Instead of Gyuvin, he’s got a pink wriggly thing that can’t talk. That’s just
disgusting. But it’s still Gyuvin inside that tiny little worm brain. But it’s a worm. It’ll
probably die in a few days.

That’s actually really sad now he thinks about it. It must be a curse. Why would Gyuvin
become a worm?

“I would cut him in half over and over again till I have millions of Gyuvins,” Ricky decides.
“Then he would be immortal and I could build a worm mansion for all my Gyuvins to live
in.”

Seungkwan looks intrigued and a little scared of his answer, then it’s over to Gyuvin.

“Would you still love Ricky if he was a worm?”

“Hmm,” Gyuvin says and Ricky just has a bad feeling in his stomach that whatever his
answer is, it’s going to be ridiculous. “Depends how long it was.”

“Oh, OK,” Yeri says, taken aback. “Forever? As in, a permanent transformation.”

“No, I get that,” Gyuvin replies. “I’m asking about the worm.”

“You’re…you’re asking how long the worm would be?”

The crowd start muttering to each other, bemused.

“Well yeah, I can’t really give an informed answer otherwise.” Gyuvin says. That little shit-
stirrer.

“But wait, why do you need to know the length?” Seungkwan asks. Their turn is going to
overrun but it seems both of the hosts are so intrigued about his logic that they’re willing to
let it slide for the sake of content.

“Because you didn’t specify?” Gyuvin says, like it’s obvious.

“Um okay,” Yeri says. “Let’s say, average worm length.”

“Yeah, I’d still love Ricky then,” Gyuvin says, and Ricky breathes a sigh of relief. “As long
as he told me in advance.”

Ricky feels a vein begin to throb in his temple. He had just given such a romantic reply to the
question? And Gyuvin has the gall to say it depends on being told in advance.

“He would tell you that he’s turning into a worm?” Yeri repeats dubiously.

“No, told me the length,” Gyuvin says maddeningly.

Ricky can’t bear it anymore. Gyuvin will love Ricky if he’s a worm. And Ricky will force
him to admit it right here, right now, in front of everybody.

“But Yeri-ssi is telling you now,” he says, aware he’s breaking the rule of the round. But this
is going to be good content. That, and Ricky is fuming. “Stop being silly.”

At Ricky’s input, there’s a scrape as Gyuvin rises off his chair.

“That doesn’t count,” Gyuvin says. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”

Ricky can see his head poking over the partition, being the giant he is.

“Why do you need to brush your teeth?” Ricky exclaims and he too stands up to face Gyuvin.
They glare at each other over the partition.

Gyuvin is just fucking around and Ricky knows because he’s smirking ever so subtly.

“So you don’t get cavities...?”

“Forget the length!” Ricky says. “Would you still love me if-?”

“But how would I calculate it?”

“Calculate what?”

“The density.”

“You’re calculating the density of the worm?!”

“Not without the length, I’m not” Gyuvin says, one eyebrow raised haughtily.

The entire venue is silent, and everyone is listening raptly to their exchange.

“Okay, let’s go back to the start,” Ricky heaves a sigh. “You wake up and find out I’ve
magically transformed into a worm overnight. Normal length, average density, from the
ground. Would you still love me in that scenario?”

“Look,” Gyuvin raises both hands in the air. “I understand the question, I’m just trying to
clarify. Like, would other people know about this?”
“That I’ve turned into a worm?”

“No, that I didn’t know the density.”

“No?”

“Okay good,” Gyuvin crosses his arms. They’ve edged sideways away from the partition, so
now they’re just glaring at each on stage. “I was worried about missing baseball practice.”

“Why would you miss baseball practice?” Ricky yells.

“I can’t, because I’m out of authorised absences,” Gyuvin says. “You know this, babe.”

Ricky exhales with barely concealed rage.

“Don’t worry about the practical implications,” he says very slowly, with a calm, controlled
tone. “Just treat it as a yes or no question.”

“So I have to calculate the density later?”

It’s official. Gyuvin is on acid or something far more sinister.

“No, you’re not supposed to calculate the density at any point!” Ricky cries, jabbing a finger
into Gyuvin’s chest.

When had they gotten so close together? Where are they again?

“Then why didn’t you say that?” Gyuvin says, daring to sound cluelessly innocent.

Ricky can see through him. Ricky knows better.

“Because it doesn’t make a damn difference!”

“Maybe to a worm it doesn’t,” Gyuvin says imperiously.

“Forget it,” Ricky huffs. “You better watch your back when you get home.”

“Um, guys?” Yeri says. She lets out a meaningful cough. “We still have one final questions, if
you two could get back to your seats.”

Ah, yes. The contest.

They quickly gabble the final question – why do you two think you have what it takes to win
the contest and then their turn is over.

The minute they’re off-stage, Ricky tugs Gyuvin to the side.

“Toilets,” he mouths at the producer.

Gyuvin whistles merrily.

“No more bullshit,” Ricky says. “Would you love me if I was a worm?”

An unexpected note of pleading makes its way into his voice. Pathetic. It’s just a question,
Ricky.

Gyuvin stares at him. Then he bursts out laughing. He doubles over and laughs and laughs
and laughs. He’s clutching onto the walls for support, knees sagging.

“You…” Gyuvin wheezes. “You’re serious about this!”

“What about it?” Ricky snaps.

“Ricky, I’d love you even if you were a dung beetle,” Gyuvin chortles, unable to suppress his
mirth. “Even if you were a virus that caused a worldwide pandemic. I’d happily let you infect
me and use me as a host.”

“Good,” is all Ricky has to say. “Glad to hear it.”

Gyuvin shamelessly puckers his lips out.

“A thank you for securing possibly the funniest moment this contest has ever seen?” he asks.

“Kiss my ass,” Ricky responds.

They’re number one in the vote ranking, edging out even the favourites – Minho and Jisung,
as well as Zhang Hao and Hanbin.

It was all down to the worm question. Afterwards, the students had told Ricky and Gyuvin
that they can’t just break the rules again but the clip was just so funny that they couldn’t
really kick them out the contest because of it.

“You see?” Gyuvin says triumphantly. Gunwook and Matthew had met up with them outside,
laughing their asses off. “All it took was for me to piss you off a bit.”

“No, because you two are literally going viral,” Gunwook says, holding out his phone.
“Someone’s posted the clip of your argument from TikTok onto Twitter. Dude, there’s fifty
thousand likes!”

Ricky has to give it up to Gyuvin, grudgingly.

Gyuvin heads off to baseball practice shortly and Gunwook swivels around on the kitchen
stool to face Ricky, with a shark-like grin.

“So,” Gunwook says, interlacing his fingers deviously. The villain laughter comes out.
“You’ve finally realised.”
“Realised what?” Ricky crosses his arms and remains standing.

“You might be able to fool Gyuvin, but you can’t fool me,” Gunwook says smarmily. “Not
when I’ve known you for this long. You’ve realised you have feelings for him.”

“Well, duh,” Ricky says dismissively. Play dumb, play dumb. “We’re dating.”

“Real ones,” Gunwook emphasises. “You love him. You want to marry him. You want to
have his babies. You want to-”

“Shut it!” Ricky hisses, his cheeks flaming. “I don’t- how the hell do you know?”

“Hehehe,” is all Gunwook says. “Teeheehee.”

“Don’t just laugh!” Ricky glares at him. “Fine. It’s true.”

He raises an eyebrow, challenging Gunwook to say something about it.

“I think you two can make it work,” Gunwook says genuinely. “I think it can work out.”

“Hah,” Ricky scoffs. Gunwook might have cottoned onto to Ricky’s feelings but he has no
idea just how complicated the situation is between them. “We’ll see about that.”

“Oh, we will,” Gunwook says ominously. “If I have anything to do with it.”

He then refuses to elaborate anymore on this.

The results of the quarter finals are then announced on social media, revealing their four
semi-finalists.

Ricky and Gyuvin, Zhang Hao and Hanbin, Jimin and Minjeong and a surprising dark horse
– Changbin and Hyunjin. It must have been the way those two had kept referring to each
other as ‘wife’.

“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting you two get this far,” Zhang Hao admits to Ricky over a large
durian. Ricky has to breathe through his mouth to bear the stench. If Zhang Hao wasn’t
literally his brother in everything but blood, he would have left. Unfortunately, he is not part
of the population that enjoy the pungent fruit. “I have to admit I’m impressed by your game.”

“We wouldn’t have entered if we weren’t serious.” Ricky tells him. “I’m going to win that
holiday for Gyuvin no matter what.”

“Ah,” Zhang Hao says wistfully. His breath wafts durian towards Ricky, who has to use
samurai levels of self-restraint to not gag. It’s far by the worst food obsession Zhang Hao has
had of late, the previous one being gopchang. “It feels like it was only days ago when you
two were snot-nosed little brats pulling on each other’s pigtails.”

“I was eighteen when I met you?” Ricky is mystified.

“Exactly.”
 The semi-final is more relaxed then the previous rounds too, much like the question round.
More content for the fans of the show, almost.

They’re so close to the end, to victory. Their free holiday and then whatever the clusterfuck
will happen after. Ricky isn’t sure whether to be excited or dreading it.

The prompt is handed to them on a card.

For once, they’re not filming at the sports hall. Instead, they’re instructed to arrive at the
student square at the centre of campus to await further instructions.

The only information they had been given is to dress in black tie as well as bring a change of
clothes after the results were announced.

That’s easy enough for Ricky. It’s like his default dress code. He gets the pleasure of decking
out Gyuvin in his own clothes, with another wave of possessiveness washing over him.

He even convinces Gyuvin to let him do his makeup. They’re going to look great. Couple
clothes, couple make-up.

“We’re hot as fuck,” Ricky says smugly. They snap a series of mirror selfies to post on social
media when this round drops.

Gyuvin and Ricky arrive promptly at eleven thirty. They line up next to Zhang Hao and
Hanbin, as the other two couples arrive. They get their mics on and Seungkwan and Yeri pull
up.

“You’ll be pleased to know you won’t be seeing much of us today,” Seungkwan says into the
cameras. “We’ll be peacing out after this.

“We have a long fun-filled day for you all,” Yeri announces to them. “A romantic day of fun
for the viewers to watch. No one will be narrating anything, you’re simply free to enjoy the
day together as we film from afar.”

“On your itinerary today,” Seungkwan unrolls a small piece of paper from his pocket. “You’ll
be visiting a Japanese one-star Michelin restaurant, with thanks to our sponsors.”

Ricky is impressed. These places are expensive, and coming from him, that’s saying
something. It looks like the contest is bigger than he had imagined.

“That’s all thanks to our amazing contestants for getting our show so hot on the internet!”
Yeri chimes. “Following that, we’ll be heading to a theme park to do some activities that
you’ll be told later, with a small challenge at the end.”

“Enjoy!”

Chapter End Notes

I had a period of writer's block because I felt a bit unsure of this fic's direction and lost
faith in my writing for a little, I don't know it felt a bit boring. But I'm happy with it
again and excited to write the next chapter. We'll see how it goes, I have a lot of things
lined up teehee.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter :D

 Tunnel of Doom
Chapter Summary

In fact, he can read the English on the menu faster than the Korean but-but- some days,
he’s just feeling…feeling kinda…babygirl?

Chapter Notes

felt really sad i hadnt updated then wrote 7k in one go to compensate. if life wasnt so
obsessed with fucking me over at every opportunity...sigh

this chapter ended up 10k long. i hope that makes for a good enough feast to make up
for the wait.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Predictably, everyone starts hopping up and down with excitement as soon as the
announcement is made.

“Free food!” Zhang Hao squawks, doing a little ‘happy’ dance while Hanbin unsuccessfully
tries to shush him. He’s simply too full of joy to be stopped and continues bouncing up and
down on his heels.

“I guess we’ll be eating in private rooms,” Gyuvin ponders out loud. “Or our audio will all
get mixed up.”

Some kind of unknown reality TV instinct seems to be hitting him as Gyuvin continues to
think aloud. Perhaps in another life he’d been on a ruthless cutthroat survival show or
something.

“It just seems too good to be true. Something about this.” Gyuvin continues. “There’s no such
thing as a free lunch.”

“Perhaps this show has somehow made the university a ridiculous amount of money,” Ricky
suggests. “Or this is sponsored so there’s a discount. This is promo for the restaurant too.”

Behind them, he notices Zhang Hao and Hanbin are looking ridiculously couple-y and
realises him and Gyuvin need to step up their game. The two of them have their arms around
each other, so they’re glued together from the seam of their shoulder down to the waist.
They’re basically doing the three-legged race all over again, except without a rope
connecting them.

Ricky sighs to himself. The only metaphorical rope tying them together is the red string of
fate. How very beautiful and romantic.

Meanwhile, Gyuvin is eyeing a crowd of pigeons by the riverbank, as if holding back the
inexplicable urge to rush at them, probably while barking. He’s actually a huge dog. He’s just
a puppy trapped in the skinsuit of a tall handsome boy.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky commands. “Don’t chase the pigeons.”

“What?!” Gyuvin sputters, looking offended. “I wasn’t going to, what the heck?”

“I saw the way you were watching them.”

“I only have eyes for you, babe!”

Ricky stares flatly at him.

“We need to act more couple-like,” he mouths at him. He jerks his head in the general
direction of Zhang Hao and Hanbin, who are admiring the weather as if the sky is vibrantly
blue and full of heart-shaped clouds.

“Carry me,” is what Gyuvin responds with. “You should carry me!”

“Why should I carry you?” Ricky sneers. “You should carry me.”

“My legs are sore from baseball practice,” Gyuvin coaxes. “I was running laps till I
collapsed.”

“No one forced you to play that ridiculous sport.”

“I know you check out my ass when I’m in my uniform.”

“How do you know-no I don’t!” Ricky says, scandalised. “Shut up!”

Gyuvin gives him a sleazy grin.

“I know you love me, Kim Ricky.”

Ba-dump ba-dump. Ricky feels panic creep up on upon him.

“Fine, hop on,” Ricky says stretching his arms out towards Gyuvin. He’ll princess-carry the
baby as far as he can then. If that’ll make him shut up. And he did say his legs were sore,
after all.

His knees almost buckle as Gyuvin’s weight drops on him all of a sudden, because he’s
decided to take a running leap to launch himself on Ricky’s back.

“You’re taller than me,” Ricky wheezes, winded. “You could have just climbed on.”
“Sorry,” Gyuvin says, without an ounce of apology in his voice. His legs are so long that they
cross over around Ricky’s waist. He digs his chin into Ricky’s shoulder. “Teehee.”

Now, he has to be doing that on purpose. No one says teehee unironically.

He adjusts Gyuvin’s position and continues down the street. Sushi Matsumoto is just a few
blocks down on the left. It shouldn’t be that hard to walk Gyuvin all the way there.

“Hey, piggyback me too,” Zhang Hao suddenly demands behind them, jabbing Hanbin in the
sternum. Hanbin's eyes light up at the suggestion, because of course they do.

“Don’t copy us,” Ricky threatens, glaring at Zhang Hao as hard as he can – which is to say,
very softly.

“This is a free country,” is the rebuttal, as he climbs onto Hanbin’s back.

Ricky rolls his eyes and keeps moving onwards. Gyuvin digs his heels into Ricky’s side, like
he’s got spurs on his shoes and Ricky is his trusty steed.

“Go, Rik, go!” he cries, slapping Ricky on the bottom for good measure.

Ricky speeds up, but only very slightly, from a slow walk to an average walk.

“What, are we having a piggyback race?” says Hyunjin curiously.

“No,” Ricky says heavily but it’s too late.

The question has already reached everyone else and before he knows it, Hyunjin is on
Changbin’s back and Changbin is running full pelt towards the restaurant.

“After him!” Zhang Hao demands, having caught on to the competition. Except, there is no
competition.

Even the girls are running towards the restaurant too, Minjeong screaming shrilly as Jimin
charges down the street after Changbin, and somehow hasn’t fallen over with the high heels
she has on. Girls are truly amazing.

“Ricky! We have to run too!” Gyuvin shouts, the grip on Ricky’s shoulders tightening. His
fingers dig into Ricky like claws.

“I am not running,” Ricky hisses, continuing at his slow pace. There’s not even a prize for
this. He’s not messing up his makeup and hair with sweat or wrinkling his clothes just for the
bragging rights of an unofficial piggyback race.

Besides, slow and steady wins the race. No one actually has the stamina to run that far and
Ricky marches past everyone, cool as a cucumber, while they’re all sweaty and panting in the
lobby.

They’re separated into private rooms, where there’s a cameraperson in each corner. The
decorations are in a traditional Japanese style, featuring sliding doors and tatami mats, with
hanging wall art of cranes and mountains.

The two of them sit down cross-legged at the low table and skim over the menu. Fun fact:
Ricky loves sushi. Raw fish is an acquired taste that he acquired early on as a child. Other
kids begged their parents for cheeseburgers. Ricky begged for ikura and uni.

He’s very excited. Even if he orders sushi, like, all the time, Ricky’s not been to this
restaurant yet.

They flip through the menu, so excited at the prospect of free food that they forget they’re
meant to be stacking couple points and acting for the cameras.

“Fuck, it looks delicious,” Gyuvin mutters, rifling through the pages. Ricky nods eagerly.

There’s a good mix of the classic sushi rolls, as well as more avant-garde takes on sushi for
them to try.

“I want to try so many of these,” Ricky says, already feeling drool threatening to leak out of
his mouth.

They’re interrupted by the sound of the sliding door opening. But instead of a waiter, they’re
unfortunately greeted by the sight of Seungkwan.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Seungkwan says chipperly, as if he hasn’t just crashed their
romantic date. “This is a surprise challenge!”

“Girl, be serious,” Ricky mutters under his breath. He is not in the mood for whatever the
bullshit is going to be thrown their way now. He just wants to have a peaceful lunch and
enjoy his sushi on his wonderful date with Gyuvin.

“It’s simple!” Seungkwan continues, blasting their ears with his microphone. Why does he
need a microphone? They’re in an enclosed space. In a little room. They are perfectly capable
of hearing him, for crying out loud.

He feels Gyuvin poke him in the shin with his toe, his eye twitching in Ricky’s direction.

Shit. His stink eye must be obvious. Ricky clears his throat and schools his features into a
more camera-ready expression.

“I’m up for the challenge,” Gyuvin says, with the fakest smile ever. His nostrils flare weirdly
as he tries to perform a smile. “Go on, Seungkwan.”

Another poke.

“Yeah, lay it on us,” Ricky deadpans.

“You’re going to have to order your meal in English!” Seungkwan exclaims, as if he’s just
revealed something amazing.
“But this is a Japanese restaurant?” Gyuvin says in confusion as Seungkwan leaves with a big
grin and no further explanation.

“I suppose people are less likely to know Japanese compared to English,” Ricky muses to
himself. “Still, what’s the point of this?”

“I knew there was no such thing as free lunch,” Gyuvin says sombrely, flipping through the
menu glumly. Then he squints at Ricky.

“Why are you even complaining? You can literally speak English?”

“Shut up, Gyuvin,” Ricky says desperately, but it’s too late. He doesn’t want to do this stupid
mission and order food. “No, I can’t? I literally failed English in school.”

Gyuvin raises an eyebrow sceptically.

The cameraman also looked confused now. Ricky has spoken English multiple times on the
show, in a way that clearly demonstrates some level of fluency.

“You have lived in America for several years,” Gyuvin says very slowly. “Your family home
is in LA-”

“You’re ordering,” Ricky interrupts.

“Excuse me?!”

“Are you hard of hearing, or what?”

“No, I’m just so utterly confused by the utter stupidity you’re exhibiting right now.”

Gyuvin’s mouth straightens into a flat line.

Seriously, Ricky doesn’t want to order. He wants to relax. It’s one of those moods. There’s
nothing stopping him from ordering. He could totally order himself if he wanted, and easily
in English at that. In fact, he can read the English on the menu faster than the Korean but-but-
some days, he’s just feeling…feeling kinda…babygirl?

Or, maybe, lazy.

“You said utterly twice,” Ricky snickers, right as Gyuvin snaps the menu shut, successfully
provoked.

“You!” Gyuvin cries, slamming his hands on the table. “What’s your problem?”

Ricky decides to pull the big guns out. This is a reality show, after all.

He bats his eyelashes at Gyuvin and gives him a pout, mimicking the way Zhang Hao often
acts when he wants something from Hanbin.

Gyuvin lets out a shudder. It must feel too familiar to him.

“Gross, what is that?”

Ricky ignores him and continues. OK, maybe channelling Zhang Hao’s energy isn’t the right
strategy here.

“I don’t wanna order, Gyubi,” Ricky says, in the most ridiculous display of aegyo. “Can
you…can you order for me…please?”

Gyuvin wilts immediately. He just needs one more push.

“Please, babe,” Ricky says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table and his face in his
hands. He tilts his head to the right. “For me?”

“Ugh,” Gyuvin groans, but Ricky can see his resolve cracking. He knows Gyuvin too well.
Gyuvin loves doing things for people. He loves making people happy.

He is a people-pleaser but the bickering nature of their friendship makes it hard for Ricky to
demand things outright.

But what if Ricky gives him another incentive?

He sneaks his hand under the table, fumbling around till he manages to grasp Gyuvin’s ankle.
Predictably, Gyuvin straightens up from his slouch all of a sudden.

Ricky maintains eye contact as he runs his hand along Gyuvin’s leg, till he’s grasping his
knee. All it takes is a little squeeze and Gyuvin comes crumbling down like a tower of bricks.

Ricky feels a little bad for taking advantage of their perpetually horny state for this, but what
did his mum always say? Work smarter, not harder.

“Fine,” Gyuvin says, ears turning red. He scoots backwards on the tatami mat, away from
Ricky’s wandering hand, a hand placed strategically over his lap, over his crotch.

Ricky resists the urge to leer at him.

“I’m just gonna go to the toilet quickly,” Gyuvin says, in a strange voice then pushes the
sliding door open so hard that it rattles in its frame, before disappearing down the corridor.

In the meantime, Ricky peruses the menu and composes a list of everything he wants.

Gyuvin takes a few minutes to return, and when he comes back, he seems a little sweaty,
which is kind of odd. Ricky is too focused on his order to think much of it for now.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky says with a gummy smile. “I want this one…and this one…and this one…
can you order them for me, please?”

“C’mon Ricky,” Gyuvin wheedles in one last attempt. “Your English is better than mine.”

“I know you can do it,” Ricky says encouragingly. “You went to an English kindergarten.”
At the moment, the waiter comes in and asks for their order, in English.

“Ah, uh!” Gyuvin startles at his appearance. He frantically starts pointing at items. “This
one…and this one…the cheese and steak…”

He reels off a rather long list, which they’re going to have no problems demolishing. Gyuvin
can eat like a bear.

“…and a ginger ale, please,” Gyuvin says, in extremely passable English. See, Ricky knew
he could do it. Gyuvin’s English is pretty good, he’s just shy. Ricky’s just giving him the kick
he needs to flex his bilinguality. It's only going to make him even more popular on the show.
Like, a reveal of his hidden charm or something.

“Wait,” Ricky whispers, nudging Gyuvin’s foot under the table. Gyuvin stiffens again,
evidently conditioned for a repeat of earlier. “Gyuvin, this one too.”

“Just say it to the waiter!” Gyuvin hisses at him.

Ricky gazes at him insistently. He could just open his mouth to speak. But it's soo much
easier to just tell Gyuvin what he wants.

“The-the creamy salmon too,” Gyuvin stutters out. He looks like he’s going to explode soon.

“Anything else?” the waiter asked, glancing between them.

“No, that’s everything,” Gyuvin says, as the waiter closes his notebook and slides it back into
his pocket.

Ricky comes to the dire realisation that they haven’t ordered the Caliifornia rolls. He informs
Gyuvin promptly.

“You order it then,” Gyuvin pleads.

“One more time, one more time,” Ricky coaxes him. He links Gyuvin’s fingers with his
across the table.

“Uh, excuse me?” Gyuvin stammers, blushing bright red, just as the waiter has stepped out
the room and is about to close the sliding door. “One California roll please.”

“Okay, anything else?” the waiter repeats. He’s staying polite but Ricky can feel a hint of
irritation emanating from him.

“Ah, no thanks, thank you,” Gyuvin says as the waiter turns around.

Ricky gives the waiter a thumbs up, then realises it’s pointless, because he can’t see him.

“The things I do for you, Kim Ricky,” Gyuvin says, burying his face in his hands. “That was
so embarrassing, you know?”

“There, there,” Ricky says, patting him lightly on the head. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
Whatever that means. Gyuvin is having the same thought too, staring at Ricky with a mixture
of fear and possible horniness. Ricky is used to having that effect on people, but there’s
something especially delicious about it coming from Gyuvin.

The rest of the meal passes quite smoothly without any further interruptions from the crew
and plates upon plates of sushi begin to pile up on their groaning table.

Ricky eats till he feels like he’s going to explode, while Gyuvin continues to absorb
everything he hasn’t eaten endlessly like a black hole. They successfully polish off every
grain of rice on their table.

“That was…something,” Gyuvin groans out, cradling his stomach like he’s expecting his
newborn any to pop out soon. “God, I can feel the food coma about to hit.”

“The food was amazing,” Ricky agrees, massaging his own belly. Gyuvin crawls over
sluggishly, weighed down by the pure volume of food in his stomach to poke Ricky in the
bellybutton.

“Don’t!” Ricky shrieks, sliding away from him. “I’ll throw up on you!”

“Your tummy is cute, hehe,” Gyuvin says, and tries to poke him again.

Ricky tries to kick him in the face, but Gyuvin wraps a hand around his ankle and yanks so
hard Ricky collapses backwards onto the tatami floor.

The sliding door conveniently slides open to reveal Yeri, whose eyes widen like saucers.

The cameraman (who both of them had completely forgotten about) is also sweating
nervously. Well, they had also offered him some of their food during the meal, but he’d
stayed professional and refused.

“Alright…” Yeri says, raising her eyebrows unsubtly. “Just wanted to tell you guys that we’re
going to the theme park next and to get ready to leave."

“Cool,” Ricky croaks and sits up, managing to land a single kick to Gyuvin’s forearm. “See
you.”

“I’ll pack up too,” the cameraman says, and hastily boxes up the camera before rushing out
the room.

“Is it just me or do you think that Yeri thought we looked suspicious?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

There’s a small coach parked in front for them to climb into. Ricky and Gyuvin cram into the
back row with Zhang Hao and Hanbin and they all make small talk with the other two
couples as the coach travels to Lotte World.

“Ooh! I’ve never been here!” Zhang Hao cries as they pull up to the main entrance. Ricky
feels a fond smile creep across his face. An almost parental feeling washes over him. Is this
how Zhang Hao feels about him, sometimes?

Zhang Hao is always incredibly cute when he’s excited. Ricky nods his head approvingly.
Never change, Zhang Hao.

Yeri and Seungkwan are waiting for them at the entrance, grinning like evil twins.

“So, before you can go off and enjoy the rest of the attractions by yourselves, there’s two
challenges we need to ask you to complete,” Seungkwan says.

“You’re going to take turns to go through a haunted house together,” Yeri says, eyes gleaming
menacingly.

Immediate protests start up from almost everybody except Ricky. He’s actually not that easily
scared by creepy things. The real world is far scarier than the occult to him.

Gyuvin on the other hand begins shaking like a leaf and clings onto Ricky’s arm.

“No way,” he whispers, the blood draining from his face. “I can’t do this..”

Ricky turns to look at him.

“I mean, ahem,” Gyuvin clears his throat noisily. “Don’t be afraid, princess. You can always
hide behind me if you get scared.”

“More like you’re going to be hiding behind me, you scaredy-cat.”

“I’m not a scaredy-cat!” Gyuvin protests, crossing his arms. “Not anymore. I’m all grown up
now.”

“Since we went to the haunted house last year?”

“You’d be surprised what a year can do for some people,” Gyuvin replies sagely. Ricky
leaves it at that.

Zhang Hao and Hanbin both look like they’re going to crap their pants, as do Jimin and
Minjeong. Even Hyunjin and Changbin are holding onto each other for dear life.

C’mon, is Ricky the only realist here? They’re in a freaking theme park, for crying out loud.
The décor is fake, the props are just decorations and all the creatures jumping out at them are
just normal workers who are paid to scream in their face.

It’s not as if they’re going into a real haunted house in the middle of a dark forest. If you get
too scared, you can always leave. The actors aren’t allowed to actually hurt them. It’s gonna
be a piece of cake for Ricky.

Although, he does suppose it’s more entertaining for the viewers if he’s scared. Maybe he’ll
try to act a little surprised inside.
“Hold your horses!” Seungkwan calls out, trying to settle the muttering. “Then we have one
final activity. And don’t be worried, it’s not scary this time.”

“Or, it could be scary, if you’re the emotionally distant type, I suppose,” Yeri muses to
herself. “But I don’t think you would’ve made it this far in the contest if you were. We’ll tell
you about it once you make it out of the haunted house.”

“If you make it out of the haunted house, that is,” Seungkwan says, with a wicked grin.

Hanbin lets out a little scream of fear at his words.

On the short five minute walk from the theme park entrance to the haunted house, the
cameras film the collective deterioration of everyone’s mental state.

“Is this what the viewers really want to see?”

Gyuvin is still complaining which only convinces Ricky that he’s terrified, despite his
repeated insistence otherwise.

The inside of Lotte World is swarming with people. Unfortunately for them, they’re not
important enough to have the entire theme park just for themselves so the air is packed with
the screams of children and adults alike as the rollercoaster shoots around the interior of the
building and groans and clunks of rides. Combined with the various songs playing for each
ride, it’s a deafening cacophony of sound.

Some people pause to watch as they go by, having spotted the cameras, probably wondering
if they’re influencers or K-pop idols or something. Maybe in another world.

Even though they just gorged on sushi, Ricky feels his stomach growl as they walk past snack
stands of hotdogs, churros and skewerse of seotteok-seotteok.

There’s even a drink stand with...is that a strawberry milkshake?

The haunted house is tucked at the back of theme park, a dark portal of doom compared to
the bright colours elsewhere. It’s as if all the sadness and negativity of Lotte World has been
sucked into this one corner.

Artificial candles cast flickering shadows over the backdrop of the haunted house, which is
covered in fake spiderwebs and wrangles of ivy cast over menacing-looking concrete blocks.
Eerie music and static crackles over stealthily positioned speakers.

The screams of the current people in the haunted house cut through the air.

“Now, who wants to go first?” Yeri says gleefully.

There’s a silence around the room as everyone glances around nervously, hardly daring to be
the first one to brave the terrors that await.

Gyuvin looks like he wants to turn tail and run and without realising, is subconsciously
edging further and further behind Ricky’s broad shoulders, although the top of his head still
peeks out.

Well, in Ricky’s opinion, it’s best to get it over and done with. He can only imagine that
Gyuvin’s going to get more and more jittery awaiting their turn, and be on the verge of
shitting himself.

Ricky thrusts his fist in the air.

“Looks like we have ourselves a volunteer!” Seungkwan cries, nodding approvingly at

Ricky’s boldness.

“Noo, what the hell?” Gyuvin moans next to him.

“Gyuvin, we’re going to have to do it at some point,” Ricky tries to convince him. “It’s like
ripping off a band-aid.”

He grabs Gyuvin’s clammy palm in his.

“Look, we’ll be just fine,” Ricky says, puffing his chest out. “I’ll protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting,” Gyuvin says immediately. “I’ll protect you.”

“No, I’ll be protecting you,” Ricky corrects, feeling wronged. “I’m not even scared. You are.”

“You will be.”

“Is that a threat, Kim Gyuvin?”

Well, Gyuvin definitely isn’t scared anymore, now he’s all riled up. Both of them are staring
daggers at each other, determined to protect the other.

Gyuvin is clearly going to be Ricky’s damsel in distress. He’ll bet his life on it. The second
they go inside, he knows Gyuvin is going to whimper like a little baby and cling onto Ricky
for dear life.

“Thanks for going first,” Hyunjin whispers to them gratefully as they pass the other couples
to the entrance.

Ricky shrugs in return. It’s no big deal, seriously. And he’s totally right. Gyuvin’s turning
green.

Hand in hand, they step inside the entrance to the haunted house.

It’s completely dark, save for a dim bulb in the corner of the room. It looks like some kind of
laboratory inside. There are cracked test tubes in dusty racks on the table and faded brown
papers scattered over the floor.

Ricky hears Gyuvin suck in a shaky breath next to him.

“Scared already?” Ricky taunts, although he feels his heartrate spike a little. It’s just the
atmosphere, that’s all.

“You wish,” Gyuvin retorts but he’s gripping Ricky’s hand so hard that he’s crushing Ricky’s
fingers.

They just need to walk through all the rooms, then it’s over. Why do people like haunted
houses so much? There’s not much to it, really.

There’s a faint rustle as the two of them amble towards the table, then Ricky feels a cold hand
clamp around his ankle.

“Ah-SRRHJGKL!” Ricky lets out a shriek that is most unlike him and flings himself onto
Gyuvin, quite literally. He leaps and wraps both arms and legs around him.

“Ha, and you said I’d be scared, you wimp- WHAAA! THE HELL!” Gyuvin must be getting
the treatment on his ankle because he jumps about a foot in the air – Ricky hears a dull thud
as his head no doubt collides with the ceiling. He is one tall motherfucker, after all.

It’s quite an impressive show of strength, considering Ricky is still hanging onto him like a
sloth.

Gyuvin’s still yelling and kicking his legs in some kind of surprisingly impressive Irish dance
imitation.

“Shut UP!” Ricky yells over him, raising his voice to almost unheard levels. “Dumbass!”

Gyuvin freezes, long enough for Ricky to gracefully unmount from his steed.

“I’m not a dumbass,” Gyuvin says petulantly, and they stagger into the next room.

The only difference is they’re now stuck to each other like two magnets, glancing around
warily.

Now that Ricky’s gotten over the initial scare, he’s onto their gimmicks. He looks at the lines
of hospital beds in this next room that’s imitating an hospital ward. Each one has a dummy on
it. That’s easy. One of them will be an actor and jump out at them or something.

He releases Gyuvin, determined to prove his coolness and strides up to each bed.

“Look, at some point one of them is going to be real,” Ricky says. He feels the hand of the
first one, then the next. “Fake. Fake. Fake.”

He gets to the end of the beds, then frowns.

“Why is this one fake too?” Ricky wonders out loud. He was expecting to feel warm flesh
and for the actor to grab him.

“Behind you! Ricky!” Gyuvin shrieks suddenly.

“What?”

Ricky looks over his shoulder, his heart skipping a beat, only to see nothing there.

“Ha, got you.” Gyuvin snickers, sounding ever so pleased with himself.

Ricky watches in muted horror as a menacing figure in a lab coat and gas mask comes up
behind Gyuvin, brandishing a syringe with a large, thick needle.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky whisper-shouts. His throat is dry all of a sudden. “G-Gyuvin, behind you!”

“You can’t pull the same trick on me, Kim Ricky,” Gyuvin admonishes, wagging a finger at
him, completely unaware of the peril he’s currently facing. “That’s so lame.”

“No, I’m being serious!” Ricky says. God, should he just abandon this idiot and run for it?

No, he can’t. That’s his dumbass fake boyfriend. Ricky loves him too much to lose him to a
mad scientist.

The syringe descends towards Gyuvin’s neck and Ricky moves on instinct.

“Don’t touch him!” Ricky screeches and he makes a spectacular flying tackle towards the
mysterious person – who he just then remembers is an actor, as they both collide in a pile on
the dusty floor.

“Fucking hell,” the actor groans, as Ricky kneels over him on all fours.

Fucking hell indeed! When had Ricky become so immersed in this fake haunted house
experience?

It doesn’t matter, he reasons. He’s just saved Gyuvin, who is widemouthed with shock as he
realises that Ricky in fact had not been lying.

“I-I told you I’d protect you,” Ricky stutters out, in a meek attempt at bravado.

“I do not get paid enough for this,” the actor groans on the floor. Ricky extends a hand to
help him up.

“Sorry about that, bro,” Ricky says and they progress to the next room.

Gyuvin recovers enough to make another joke.

“That’s so sweet of you,” he says. “You thought I was in real danger?”

“Shut it,” Ricky grumbles, embarrassed. “If it was real, I’d leave you for dead.”

“He loves me so bad!” Gyuvin sing-songs, as they thread through bookshelves and moth-
eaten armchairs. “He can’t live without me!”

“Shut up!” Oh, the sweet irony of his words.

The next few scares are less eventful, in which they escape from some mad test subject
zombie creatures until they finally reach a long corridor, where light glimmers at the end.
Ricky never thought he’d admit it, but he’ll be relieved to see the light of day again.

And then they hear footsteps and a sinister electric whirring.

It doesn’t even make sense with the plot of the haunted house for there to be a chainsaw-
wielding maniac! But he’s there and running towards them, full pelt.

Ricky really hopes the blades of the chainsaw have actually been removed for safety reasons.
Because his body has frozen to the spot. Now he knows what would happen to him in an
emergency. Flight or fight – his body chooses freeze.

But then, Gyuvin throws himself in front of Ricky, blocking him from the chainsaw man.

“If you want to get to him, you’ll need to go through me first!” Gyuvin announces defiantly,
hands splayed out.

Ricky’s heart skips another beat, but this time it isn’t out of fear. His Gyuvin is such a
sweetheart, sacrificing himself for Ricky like this.

When he realises neither of them are running, the chainsaw guy kind of just slows down as he
gets closer.

“I’m not actually allowed to hurt you guys, you know?” he says, sounding exasperated. “The
exit is just ahead of you.”

Ricky grabs Gyuvin’s outstretched hand and tugs the two of them through the thick fabric
obscuring the exit and they blink as the light hits them.

“See, I protected you too,” Gyuvin says proudly, once they’re out.

“Good boy,” Ricky says tiredly, out of steam. They collapse onto a bench at the side.

The crew and rest of the couples give them a round of applause, then Jimin and Minjeong
volunteer to go second. Somehow, they hear both the couple and the actors screaming.
Something odd is happening inside.

Changbin and Hyunjin are next and there’s a lot of screaming from the two of them two and
it takes them twice the time of Minjeong and Jimin to emerge from the exit. They must have
been scared so stiff that they hadn’t even been able to move.

Finally, it’s Hanbin and Zhang Hao’s turn. The grand finale. By now, him and Gyuvin have
shaken off any remaining nerves from their turn and are just chilling, whereas Zhang Hao and
Hanbin have a white-knuckled grip on each other.

They disappear into the haunted house and within seconds, Ricky hears Zhang Hao’s
signature crow-like squawks, clashing horribly with Hanbin’s high-pitched shrieks. Truly a
match made in heaven, he thinks. They scream the entire way through, followed by a lot of
crashes and shouts of pain.
“Their throats must be raw,” Gyuvin winces, massaging his own Adam’s apple in sympathy.

When Zhang Hao and Hanbin emerge, they look a mess. Their hair is rumpled and they’re
limping. It turns out they’d kept their eyes shut the entire time and had navigated the haunted
house blind, which also explains why they took such a ridiculously long time.

Everyone is utterly worn out from the experience.

Thankfully, this is the only hard part of the day. The next challenge really isn’t much of a
challenge, it just involves them all having to take a ride through the ‘Tunnel of Love’,
whatever bullshit that is.

It better not have any jump scares or Ricky will riot. They listen listlessly as Seungkwan
rambles on for a bit about how they’re encouraged to share their true feelings and confess
anything they haven’t admitted already about themselves – if they’re comfortable sharing it
with the audience.

Like the haunted house, there isn’t much to the ride. It’s just a small boat floating along the
water through a dimly lit tunnel that appears to be adorned with fairy lights and flowers on
the inside.

It’s…kind of tacky looking, if he’s honest.

Nevertheless, they have the rest of the day to spend at Lotte World, so what’s one more lame
ride?

Ricky and Gyuvin clamber into the little wooden boat, which has hearts and gaudy cherubs
carved into the side. The seats are purposely narrow, forcing them to settle very snugly
against each other. He tucks himself into Gyuvin’s side, feeling Gyuvin’s arm automatically
settle around his waist.

Ricky resolutely ignores the thrill that runs through him at this. There’s bigger fish to fry
right now. At least it doesn’t matter if he sends goo-goo eyes at Gyuvin on camera. He’s just
in character.

The boat clinks against the rails and speeds off into the tunnel, slowing to a gentle walking
pace when the light from outside vanishes and Gyuvin’s brown hair is muted by the shadows.

Aside from the gentle sloshing of water lapping up against their boat, the two of them are
silent. However, Ricky’s mind is already buzzing with thoughts.

The finals of this competition is in two weeks, the holiday one week after. The deadline for
their relationship draws ever closer.

The producers want some kind of moment between them, something more intimate and
touching, but Ricky doesn’t know what to say right now, even if he disguises it as an act. The
only sentence pushing at his lips is ‘I don’t know if I can go back to being just friends with
you after this’.
But maybe this in itself is also a romantic moment. Ricky and Gyuvin are so often depicted
as going at each other’s throats onscreen that maybe the silence is all that’s needed.

Ricky reaches for Gyuvin’s right hand and intertwines their fingers. Gyuvin isn’t saying
anything either, but he gives Ricky’s hand a little squeeze. One of them has to, before the ride
ends.

“I’m glad we entered the contest,” Ricky says finally, as the boat makes a turn around the
corner. “I’m glad I got to do this with you.”

He hesitates, glancing briefly at Gyuvin, who tilts his head towards him, lips curving in a
faint smile to signal he’s listening.

“I’m glad I have you,” The words roll off his tongue slow and sincere. Ricky braces himself.
He can blame it all on the magic of this tunnel for his ‘performance’. He was feeling inspired
in the moment. “I don’t think you know, Gyuvin, how much you mean to me.”

Television static seems to crackle in his chest as Ricky stares ahead into the distance,
followed by fear. Has he said too much this time? It’s what the producers want for this
contest, at least. They’ve met their requirements.

He can’t bring himself to look to the right and see the expression on Gyuvin’s face. Ricky’s
too afraid of what he’ll see. But he has no choice to listen to what he has to say in return.

He hears a soft chuckle and feels another squeeze of his fingers.

“Kim Ricky,” Gyuvin says, then he swallows audibly. “I don’t think you know how happy
that makes me feel right now.”

Ricky exhales in relief – he’s not sure if that’s what it is. But the knots in his stomach
unclench and he lets himself lean his head on Gyuvin’s shoulder, overwhelmed with the
desire to be closer to him.

“I think…I think,” Gyuvin starts, then falls silent. This time, it’s Ricky’s turn to encourage
him with a squeeze of the hand. “Meeting you was the best thing that happened to me since I
turned eighteen.”

Is it too corny if Ricky feels tears gather in his eyes? He blinks frantically, looking upwards
at the ceiling, willing himself not to embarrass himself on camera.

“I’m just happy to have had the privilege of falling in love with you.” Gyuvin says and Ricky
feels his entire world tilt on its axis.

There isn’t time for Ricky to say anything back, because the ride turns its final corner and
brings them out the tunnel.

Gyuvin’s words have him biting his lip so hard that it could be bleeding. He leaves the
Tunnel of Love in a daze, not listening to a word of what the MCs and producers tell them
next.
Gyuvin is quiet too, the two of them having not looked at each other since they’ve gotten off
the ride.

Ricky is biting his tongue – he desperately wants to ask Gyuvin if he had meant it. But all he
can imagine is how much of a desperate idiot he’ll seem if Gyuvin was just acting and how
it’s going to fuck everything up. He can’t. Not here, in public.

They all filter off into small groups, the producers packing up their cameras. All the footage
they need has been secured, and the couples are free to enjoy Lotte World to their heart’s
content for the rest of the day.

“What…what do you want to do, Ricky?” Gyuvin says. Even the way he says it sounds
strange.

Zhang Hao and Hanbin have headed off to the food stalls, leaving the two of them still
standing by the Tunnel of Love, still in their trance.

“I don’t mind,” Ricky says.

The way they’re talking feels weird and wrong. They’re both being unnaturally careful in
how they speak, unable to look each other in the eye. It’s the one thing Ricky has always
been worried about – making things awkward.

He reassures himself that it’ll pass in a few minutes, just like how it had done after they’d
first kissed, gotten each other off.

But it feels so much heavier than all of that. Ricky doesn’t think he can cut it by clapping
Gyuvin on the shoulder and saying: ‘Hey bro, great acting in there from us!’, then going
about their day. Even the power of ‘bro’ isn’t enough to diffuse the situation.

They agree on the rollercoaster and start to walk over towards it, still caught in this thick,
unpleasant silence.

In the end, Gyuvin is the one to break it. He slings an arm around Ricky’s shoulder, casual as
anything.

“The last line was believable, right?” Gyuvin says uncertainly. “It’s all thanks to you
speaking first. I really didn’t know what to say. But I could tell you meant what you said and
I kind of carried the vibe over.”

Ricky nods stiffly, not trusting himself to speak.

“But you really are my best friend, Ricky,” Gyuvin says seriously. “I really couldn’t have
pulled off acting in this contest with anyone else. I mean it.”

Ricky schools his features into something vaguely resembling a smile. Why had he gotten his
hopes up? Of course it wasn’t that deep. He shouldn’t have been projecting so hard onto
Gyuvin.
A few months ago, he would have been ecstatic to hear that Gyuvin considered him as his
best friend. It’s cruel how sharply the words sting now.

Forget it. It’s not happening. He needs to get his head straight. This is his best friend Gyuvin,
not his boyfriend.

“I couldn’t have done it with anyone else either,” Ricky admits truthfully. Quick, change the
fucking subject. “We did well. I’m sure we’ll win the popularity vote to make it into the
finals.”

Gyuvin nods, pumping a fist in the air.

“The holiday is so close I can practically taste it!”

When the footage for this round comes out a few days later, Ricky and Gyuvin’s socials
collectively blow up and the number of followers they have skyrockets. Even Gyuvin’s dog
Eumppappa back at home gets more followers on her Instagram account.

They can only cross their fingers and hope that they receive enough votes to make it into the
finals. The competition is stiff but unlike the other contestants, they have Gunwook on their
side.

“Trust me, you’ll win the vote,” is all he says.

Ricky doesn’t know if Gunwook is threatening people into voting or if his connections
simply extend that far, but he trusts him enough to relax, knowing they have it in the bag.

Ricky gets his fair share of teasing from people around him for his dramatics in the haunted
house, but he takes it in stride, because however embarrassing he was, Gyuvin was just as
bad, if not worse.

There’re also a few troll comments, as you always get on the internet, even when it’s just a
random university contest. Those don’t bother Ricky either, because he knows they’re either
losers or jealous of him. He is young and rich, tall and handsome, after all.

The worst part is actually the reception to him and Gyuvin in the Tunnel of Love. All the
comments on how cute they are, how obviously in love they are – those are the ones he can’t
bring himself to read and Ricky learns to close the page immediately if he sees anything
about it.

Even if anyone mentions it in person, he quickly dismisses it and changes the subject.

For the most part, Gyuvin and Ricky had a fun time at Lotte World, went on all the big rides
like the rollercoaster and log flume and had gorged themselves on snacks.
They had arrived home, and they’d collapsed into bed together, drained of all energy before
even eating dinner. Gyuvin still cuddles up to him and Ricky has half a mind to push him
away, but he’s so tired he accepts it and simply falls asleep.

Gunwook wakes both of them up when he returns from library, kicking open the door to
Ricky’s bedroom and yelling for them to wake up, demanding updates on what happened.

“And dinner’s ready,” he adds.

They sit around a lukewarm pizza in the kitchen as Ricky and Gyuvin fill Gunwook on the
meal, then the haunted house. They collectively trail off when it comes to the Tunnel of Love
and Gunwook directs a pointed glance at Ricky.

“We just had to confess something and make it look touching,” Ricky summarises,
attempting to gloss over it as quickly as possible. “Gyuvin and I basically did our bromance
but with more behind it. If you get me.”

“…Yeah, I get the picture,” Gunwook comments, reaching for the final slice of pizza. “Good
job, both of you.”

Despite the sushi and snacks at the theme park, Ricky and Gyuvin manage half of it between
them, Gunwook devouring the other half.

“What about your day?” Gyuvin ask, yawning mid-stretch, mouth wide open. “What did you
do, Wookie?”

“Studied, saw Matthew, terrorised the Law Society members, the usual,” Gunwook supplies
freely. “Started making a revision timetable for finals.”

Ricky and Gyuvin both groan.

“Dude, why would you bring that up before the end of the contest?” Gyuvin complains. “I
was living a life of ignorance and bliss till you mentioned it.”

“I don’t know about bliss, but you’re definitely always living a life of ignorance,” Ricky
can’t help but slip in.

He’s not that gassed about the news of finals either. Not with the ninety-nine problems in his
life, that can all be traced back to the clueless guy sitting next to him.

Well, his course is more about coursework than exams, but this means Ricky’s going be
spending more evenings holed up in the studio desperately trying to finish his sketchbook and
final pieces before they’re due for presenting.

With the news of finals, all three of them really do knuckle in for some revision, which
means more time in the library and seeing less of each other. Gyuvin’s also at the height of
baseball season, so Ricky barely sees him around the house.

That means nothing really happens between them for the next few days, except for the fact
Gyuvin always sleeps in Ricky’s bed and hugs him. He doesn’t really know how to feel about
it.

They’ve spent so much secret time in close proximity that Ricky misses Gyuvin like mad
even if they’re only apart from morning to evening.

A week later, the polls for the finals close and the results are announced.

Ricky’s in the studio looking at his canvas with his eyes crossed when his phone starts
vibrating. He ignores it, more focused on trying to make sure he doesn’t fuck up the textures
on his oil painting.

His phone starts buzzing again, so Ricky huffs and puts his paintbrush down, wiping his
forehead and no doubt smudging paint on himself in the process. He jabs a clean finger on his
phone.

“What,” he says, annoyed at the disruption to his creative process.

“RICKY!” Gyuvin hollers into his ear. Ricky pulls the phone away from him and sets it on
the table. That wasn’t even on speaker and it deafened him.

“That’s my name, well done,” he mumbles, going back to mixing the precise shade of
vermillion he needs.

“Dude, listen!” Gyuvin bellows, the sarcasm bouncing off him. “WE MADE IT TO THE
FINALS!”

“Of baseball?” Ricky says, absent-minded. Is it just his imagination, or is the antlers of the
deer slightly wonky?

“The COUPLE CONTEST, OH MY GOD!” Gyuvin shouts, exasperated. “We made it! We’re
one more round away from our holiday, Ricky!”

It finally clicks.

Ricky feels a massive grin break out over his face.

“We did it?” he says, breaking out into laughter. “We actually fucking did it?”

There’s no way. There’s no goddamn way.

“We fucking did, man!” Gyuvin cries and he lets out a few whoops of celebration. “And
guess who our opponents are?”

Ricky already knows what Gyuvin is going to say even before he says it.

“Zhang Hao and Hanbin,” they say in unison.

Not only is their free holiday coming, it’s also time for Ricky’s petty revenge. They’re going
to take down the most perfect couple in the world.
As per usual, Gunwook has even managed to acquire details of the finals.

“This one’s going to be spicy,” Gunwook says. “They’ve really outdone themselves.”

Matthew grins deviously.

“What?” Gyuvin demands, elbows on the table and leaning forwards. “It’s not R-rated, is it?”

“Calm that dirty mind of yours, boy,” Gunwook chides with disapproval. “Of course not.”

“Well, you did call it spicy,” Ricky points out. He’d been thinking along the same lines as
Gyuvin himself.

“Get this,” Matthew says, lowering his voice to a stage whisper. “A blindfolded kissing
challenge.”

Ricky feels his eyes roll into the back of his head. Of course it’s something ridiculous.

The logistics are as follows – each couple is blindfolded and handcuffed. They have to spin
around fifteen times then attempt to kiss each other on the lips. The first couple to kiss wins.

It’s both simple and very complicated.

“You two have a week from finals,” Gunwook says. “So it’s time to start practicing. I’ve
already acquired the goods.”

He pulls out two sets of fluffy handcuffs and blindfolds.

“These better not be used,” Ricky says, glancing at Gunwook and Matthew warily.

“They were on sale,” Gunwook shoots back, glowering at him. “Anyway, even if we did have
handcuffs, no way in hell would I lend them to you.”

“Yeah babe, you’d be chained to the bed instead,” Matthew adds blithely. He smiles with the
innocence of one thousand angels when everyone looks at him in disgust. “What? It’s true.”

“Hyung, please,” Gunwook begs, ears burning bright red. “Just because it might be true.”

“Oh, no, I’m not playing around, it’s definitely true,” Matthew protests in utter obliviousness.

Gunwook drags Matthew out the door with him, face glowing like Rudolph’s nose. This
leaves Ricky and Gyuvin sitting at the dining table with handcuffs and blindfolds. It’s
certainly not weird or anything.

Ricky also hasn’t kissed Gyuvin for an entire week. It’s getting so bad that he’s holding back
from begging. If it wasn’t for his pride, he would have collapsed like a house of cards.

“Should we…practice then?” Ricky suggests tentatively, picking up one of the fluffy
handcuffs gingerly, as it bites.
“We can just put our hands behind our backs for now, I think,” Gyuvin says, also eyeing them
cautiously. “As a trial run.”

Ricky breathes out through his nose and tries to stay calm.

“You wanna do it in your room or mine?” he asks. Shit, he hadn’t meant for it to come out
sounding like that.

“I don’t mind,” Gyuvin says, gnawing on his bottom lip nervously. “I think the living room
has more space though.”

“We’re going to need an open space for this,” Ricky realises belatedly. “If we wanna practice
properly.”

“I have more floor space, let’s use mine for now,” Gyuvin decides.

Gyuvin had said they didn’t have to use the handcuffs, but Ricky can’t help but be a little
curious about them. There’s a key that comes with each pair too.

He slips his wrist into one of the cuffs, clicking it shut, tugging it against his wrist.
Interesting.

“You try it on too,” Ricky demands, pushing the other pair towards Gyuvin. “Put it on!”

“Why though?” Gyuvin groans but he puts his wrist out and lets Ricky cuff one of his wrists.
“We shouldn’t both put them on, how are we gonna get out of them?”

“Well, then it can just be one of us at a time, duh,” Ricky says, and before Gyuvin can react,
he clicks the other handcuff around his wrist, guiding Gyuvin’s hands behind his back.
Gyuvin is effectively trapped.

“Hey, you dickhead!” Gyuvin realises, trying to grab the key from Ricky. “What are you
doing?!”

Ricky snatches the keys and jams them down the pocket of his trousers and runs to Gyuvin’s
room, laughing his ass off as Gyuvin takes off after him.

“You asshole, unlock me!” Gyuvin cries, marching into the room. The door slams shut
behind him.

Ricky sits down on Gyuvin’s bed and smirks at him. The key is tucked under his ass, snug in
his back pocket. Gyuvin’s range of motion is severely limited with his hands handcuffed
behind his back.

He clearly knows it too, because instead of making any attempt at trying to free himself, he
just launches himself at Ricky, pinning his torso to the bed with Gyuvin’s body acting as
deadweight.

“How is this going to help you free yourself?” Ricky says, in a mild panic. “You’re still
trapped.”
“I’m going to lie on top of you till you suffocate and die,” Gyuvin growls in return, looking
down at Ricky. He can feel the warm air coming from Gyuvin’s mouth when he speaks.

“I have arms though,” Ricky says and he shoves Gyuvin off him, rolling him over to the side.
Without his arms to steady him, Gyuvin has no choice but to flip over onto his back.

In an act of quick thinking, Ricky then grabs the blindfold on the desk and pulls it over
Gyuvin’s eyes.

Now he has a handcuffed, blindfolded Gyuvin lying before him.

“Fuck you, Kim Ricky,” Gyuvin seethes, wiggling like a worm. He really is defenceless now.
He could stand up, but he can’t see and he can’t even take off the blindfold by himself.

Is this what a power rush feels like?

Ricky cackles evilly.

Truth be told, he’s still a little salty about the Tunnel of Love. It’s not really justified, if he’s
rational, but Ricky almost feels played. At this point, he’s close to waving his dick in
Gyuvin’s face and screaming at him – “You see this thing! You fucking love it! You and me,
we’re sexually compatible, what’s to say we can’t be compatible romantically too?!”

Of course, because he’s not completely insane, Ricky had just sulked for a few days instead
before being sensible about it.

“If you want me to unlock your handcuffs, say please hyung,” Ricky announces. “What do
you think? Please, Ricky-hyung?”

He can feel Gyuvin’s annoyance radiating off him in waves.

“Go fuck yourself!” Gyuvin squawks. “When hell freezes over.”

In his indignance, his t-shirt rides up his abdomen, revealing a strip of skin that is extremely
enticing.

Ricky moves before he thinks, sliding a hand across Gyuvin’s midriff.

“What the-?” Gyuvin’s breath hitches. Ricky watches as rosy blotches appear on his cheeks.

Ricky had just been thinking of how he could piss Gyuvin off a bit, but now he’s starting to
realise this is pretty hot. Kind of kinky.

Gyuvin seems to think so too, because he lets out a gasp when Ricky trails his hands lower,
towards the strings of Gyuvin’s sweatpants.

“Can you call me hyung now?” Ricky says, smoothing his palm over the growing bulge.
Gyuvin squirms under his touch.
“I don’t think this is what Gunwook had in mind when he gave us these,” Gyuvin says
breathlessly. “Nngh!”

Ricky watches the Gyuvin’s abs flex as he tenses up as Ricky ghosts his hand over his crotch.
He realises he’s also hard as a rock from watching.

The bed creaks as Ricky steps onto the mattress, lowering himself till he’s kneeling over
Gyuvin. Gyuvin registers his movements but remains pliant, simply waiting.

He rucks Gyuvin’s shirt up his chest, taking the chance to ogle Gyuvin’s waist. Their build is
pretty similar but Gyuvin has much bigger hands. Ricky can’t quite get a hold of Gyuvin’s
waist the way he can with Ricky.

As he tries to fit his hands around Gyuvin’s waist, Gyuvin exhales harshly at the skin contact.
Of course, Gyuvin can’t see. He can’t predict what’s going to happen. It makes each of his
reactions bigger, jumping with trepidation at every touch and squeeze.

Ricky slides his hands upwards till he reaches Gyuvin’s chest. His pecs are bigger than
before.

“Baseball training has been paying off, huh?” Ricky muses to himself and out of pure
indulgence, gropes at Gyuvin’s chest like they’re boobs.

“Hey,” Gyuvin groans out. “I’m not a girl.”

“No shit, Captain Obvious,” Ricky replies, relaxing his weight onto Gyuvin so he can feel the
erection poking against his butt. He grinds against it and flicks his thumbs over Gyuvin’s
nipples at the same time.

“Ricky-!”

“C’mon, you can add a hyung onto that,” Ricky says, still not letting go of that. He’s not a
stickler for age hierarchy by any means and forgoes formalities if necessary but he knows it
matters to Gyuvin and that’s what he wants to get at.

Gyuvin finds it embarrassing to submit and call someone hyung, even in games. He gets all
giggly and huffy about it in a way that Ricky can’t get enough of. It’s adorable.

Ricky could just have his way with Gyuvin right now if he wanted to. Lube himself up and
just bounce on it.

Quite the scandalous thought, he knows but Ricky thinks it’s unfair to expect him to think
rationally when he’s got Kim Gyuvin, bound and willing in bed.

He pulls Gyuvin’s sweatpants down, watching his cock flop out. It almost pokes him in the
eye as it stands to attention, flushed dark red and drooling at the tip.

Ricky wants to put his mouth on it again. He thinks back to the one afternoon of madness
and remembers the heavy weight of Gyuvin on his tongue, the pressure in his throat.
So what if he’s a bit of a cockslut?

Ricky repositions himself and gets off the bed again, pushing Gyuvin’s thighs wide open –
Gyuvin lets out another beautiful sound at that, then he stabilises himself by holding onto
said thighs and takes Gyuvin into his mouth.

“Ah!” Gyuvin bucks into his throat, back arching off the bed. There’s an obscene gagging
noise as it hits the back of Ricky’s throat. Surprised by the response, Gyuvin’s dick slips out
of Ricky’s mouth, leaving a glistening trail down his chin.

“This is not practice,” Gyuvin says weakly.

“Don’t see you complaining though,” Ricky says and gets right back to it.

There’s something very fulfilling to the soul about watching Gyuvin get all whiny, panting
and gasping but unable to do anything but beg. And he breaks, eventually.

Ricky can feel him getting close, the cadence of Gyuvin’s breathing growing more erratic and
pulls off again.

“You’re still not going to call me hyung?” Ricky asks, voice rough from the abuse of his
throat. “I might just go take a nap in my room.”

“Argh…” Gyuvin lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine…god. Please, Ricky-hyung.”

Ricky lets out a delighted laugh.

“One more time?”

“Ricky…hyung,” Gyuvin says through gritted teeth and Ricky is all to happy to oblige,
finishing him off with long, hard sucks and keeping his mouth on Gyuvin even as he comes,
till he’s shaking and asking Ricky to pull off.

Ricky swallows and winces at the bitter taste in the back of his throat, then wipes whatever
mixture of bodily fluids is on his chin off with a tissue from Gyuvin’s nightstand.

Gyuvin’s spent, chest heaving with exertion. Ricky leans down over him to press a chaste
kiss to his lips.

“We got there in the end,” Ricky says. Feeling merciful, he pulls the keys out his pocket to
undo the handcuffs.

It’s a mistake. As soon as the cuffs click and open, Gyuvin whirrs into action. He springs up
from the bed, bare ass out and reverses their roles, pushing Ricky down onto the mattress.

“If you wanted to suck my dick so bad, you could have just asked,” Gyuvin says teasingly.
“You didn’t need to handcuff me for that.”

“Oh please,” Ricky says. “You loved that.”

“Yeah,” Gyuvin agrees surprisingly easily. “Your head game is great. Makes me wanna return
the favour.”

He proceeds to unzip Ricky’s trousers. Ricky processes it a beat too late.

“Wait, you’re going to-?” Ricky is left with little warning as Gyuvin holds him down by his
thighs and suckles at the head of Ricky’s dick.

It’s clumsy and sloppy, clearly the moves of someone inexperienced and doing it for the first
time. Gyuvin’s teeth nudge against Ricky’s dick on occasion, sometimes dangerously close to
scraping him but what he lacks in technique, he makes up for with pure enthusiasm.

Ricky’s glad he isn’t blindfolded so he can watch everything up close, the way Gyuvin is
swallowing him down, eyes watering as he pushes past his gag reflex.

It slips out of him by accident.

“Good boy,” Ricky says, almost unconsciously. Fuck, it’s not just the blowjob. It’s the fact
that it’s Gyuvin, trying so hard for him – for god knows fucking why.

He’s so horny that Ricky just wants to blow his load in his beautiful face and watch pearls of
come drip from Gyuvin’s eyelashes.

Ricky’s never been this much of a freak. Gyuvin just makes him into one.

“It’s good,” Ricky chokes out, small whimpers escaping his mouth. “Feels good, Gyuvin,
close-“

Ricky grabs of fistful of Gyuvin’s hair to warn him that he’s close, to push him off. Just as
Gyuvin gets the message and shifts backwards, Ricky comes.

It might just be the best orgasm he’s ever had, produced by the worst blowjob he’s ever had.
And as if God had heard his prayers, his come is spattered over Gyuvin’s face, trickling down
his cheek.

“Fuck, sorry,” Ricky says, reaching to pass him the tissues.

Gyuvin wipes the come off his face, but he looks proud of himself.

“We should actually practice for real now.”

They do practice for the rest of the following week, whenever they get the time. The
handcuffs and blindfolds also get used for other nefarious purposes, but Gunwook doesn’t
need to know what the fluffy handcuffs are currently going through or the things they have
seen.
They’re pretty much recovered from the awkawrdness that had hung around for a few days
following the Tunnel of Love, and once again they seem to be back to business, fumbling
around with each othe rat every given opportunity.

Maybe it’s because it’s finally sunken in that they’re at the finals and it really may be the last
chance for Ricky to fuck around before he finds out. He instigates things constantly, whether
it’s trailing his feet up Gyuvin’s calves at the dinner table, or when they’re in bed, and Ricky
will roll over and look at Gyuvin with a dark, heavy gaze that makes his intentions clear.

Ricky knows that the more he lets himself go, the more that he doesn’t hold back, the more
the heartbreak will hurt later. But when Gyuvin is next to him, the pain seems worth it, if not
just for these few moments Ricky will forever replay in his memories.

On the day of the finals, they’re instructed to arrive in black tie. Both of them own
formalwear, so it’s not really a tall request. Ricky even books out an appointment at the
tailor’s so they can look their best.

Rather than the sports hall, this time, the producers have managed to rent out a small venue,
commonly used for conferences or meetings.

Ricky isn’t nervous. He’s been constantly dizzy from the amount of spinning they’ve been
doing but it’s paying off. The time it takes for them to orientate themselves has considerably
shortened. Gyuvin’s athleticism may also be the key to their victory. Something about his
excellent special-visual abilities and proprioception, honed by his intense baseball training.

They’re sitting ‘backstage’ – really just a small seminar room along with Zhang Hao and
Hanbin, getting micced up and awaiting instructions.

The audience is quite loud, filled with their friends – Gunwook, Matthew, Taerae, Jiwoong
amongst others. Zhang Hao and Hanbin had attempted to ban Yujin from the venue, but
somehow he’d sneaked in with Ollie and was at the back. It’s slightly embarrassing what
they’re going to be doing but it’s just a simple kiss. They’ll keep it PG.

It’s going to be the final time that Seungkwan and Yeri come into their makeshift waiting
room to haul them onto stage and MC for them. Ricky wouldn’t say he’s going to miss doing
the contest, but it had been good fun overall.

Hanbin and Zhang Hao look dapper in their suits, with blue and pink roses pinned to the
front.

“May the best couple win,” Hanbin says solemnly, raising an imaginary wineglass.

“We promise not to rub our victory too hard in your face,” Gyuvin says, joining the toast,
downing his own invisible glass of wine.

“To free holidays,” Ricky chimes in.

They all look to Zhang Hao, who lets out a yawn at their theatrics.

“I always win,” he says simply. “I'm Zhang Hao.”

Chapter End Notes

im so ready to be done with this fucking couple contest. like we're finally at the fucking
finals about time.
 The Real Driver
Chapter Summary

The aftermath of the contest. The result of the finals...

Chapter Notes

hi i know it's been a fat minute (2 months but ssssh) but in exchange, this chapter is 10k
words long (accident).

Hope yall are still enjoying their adventures!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

First come the handcuffs. Ricky lets Seungkwan click them into place, hands behind his back.
He’s calm because this all feels familiar, nothing new to see. If anything, a flame flickers
within him when he feels the cool metal grip his wrists. Gyuvin pinning him down and
jerking him off until he was so sensitive he’d gotten tears in his eyes.

No, now’s not the time. Shen Ricky, focus on the task ahead of you.

The moment the blindfold takes away his vision, Ricky zeroes in on his other senses.
Gyuvin’s wearing extra loud shoes and Ricky can tell by the timing of the strides that he’s
now walking away from him, into place, around ten metres or so.

One of Gunwook’s more ridiculous suggestions was that they try to master echolocation
before the contest. It hadn’t happened, obviously but Ricky does feel more in tune with
Gyuvin in a way he hasn’t experienced before.

If he guesses, they’re about five metres apart. Whether they’re in a straight line, Ricky isn’t
sure. They can’t speak to each other either. It’s just going to be them fumbling around to the
crowd’s amusement.

For fun, Zhang Hao suggested that they all put on lipstick, too, so they would leave marks if
they missed. The production crew really liked that, so Ricky also has blood-red lips on top of
everything.

“Three, two, one!” Yeri roars. “Let the finals begin.”

To make things even harder, once Ricky reaches his spot, he gets spun around a few times,
almost losing track of where he’s facing. If he guesses correctly, he’s probably facing the
audience.

Ricky starts spinning at a moderate speed, but not enough to completely lose his balance. He
pivots on one foot, counting the number of turns in his head. The dizziness starts to build
around the seventh spin but he keeps going, until he’s certain it’s fifteen.

“Someone’s completed their turns already!” Seungkwan shouts and the crowd cheers. “Oh
and we have another one!”

If the MCs haven’t moved from where they were standing that also helps Ricky re-orientate
himself. He staggers a little to the left but quickly rights himself before he falls on his ass.

Right. Footsteps. He steps in what he hopes is the right direction, shoes letting out a click.
Hah. He knew wearing wooden heels would help.

He hears a distant click to his right, then focuses his ears. Gyuvin said he would tap his heel
twice to indicate it was him.

Click-click.

Bingo.

The trouble is, they can’t make it look too obvious that they’ve already strategized, or it’ll
raise suspicions. Well, Ricky could always come out and say that they’re quick thinkers, but
neither he nor Gyuvin are well-known in this contest for being brainiacs.

But they also can’t be so slow that Hanbin and Zhang Hao end up taking the final round.

Ricky shakes his head to try and rid himself of the world spinning under his feet and moves
towards the sound of Gyuvin’s shoes.

It would be helpful for Seungkwan or Yeri to commentate on what’s happening but it seems
they’ve been instructed not to clue them in too much, so besides a few oohs and aahs, they
aren’t saying anything of substance.

In their time trials, Ricky and Gyuvin had managed to complete the challenge in roughly
forty-five seconds, forty-one as their best record. It should logically be enough to win,
according to Gunwook, but competitions are unpredictable.

It’s so frustrating that they can’t speak. Ricky clicks his heel on the ground twice as well,
trying to disguise it as him stumbling for the crowd’s entertainment. He does hear the noise
level increase as he does so.

He can hear Gyuvin coming closer, perhaps only a metre away. They just need to collide in
some way, then they should be able to somehow kiss. It’s pretty lucky that they’re a similar
height. But then again, so are Zhang Hao and Hanbin.

Ricky shuffles along until he feels himself bump into something firm. Except, it’s definitely
not the front of Gyuvin. It’s his ass. Great, he’s facing the opposite direction. So Ricky needs
him to turn around.
He kicks the back of Gyuvin’s calf to signal this and listens to the shuffling sounds of him
turning to face him.

Okay, this he can do. Ricky’s had plenty of practice after all.

With their hands behind their back, Gyuvin and Ricky press as close together as possible, till
they’re lined up from chest to groin. The moment their noses and chins brush each other, it’s
all intuitive from there. Vaguely, Ricky notices the crowd has gone silent.

That helps. It feels like they’re alone, just the two of them, practicing at home.

They find each other’s lips and Ricky closes his eyes behind the blindfold. They’d said they
keep it short and sweet, but Gyuvin doesn’t let go, latching onto Ricky’s bottom lip a little
longer than necessary.

They haven’t kissed so publicly before, not like this, anyway.

Ricky does not want to start making out with Gyuvin onset and begins to tilt his head back,
but then he feels Gyuvin’s tongue poke between his lips, and oh well, it won’t hurt to indulge
a little, surely?

He has no idea how long is left on the timer but then the whistle blows shrilly, ringing across
the sports hall.

“Stop what you’re doing right now, couples!” Yeri screams. “We have a WINNER!”

Because the challenge followed a time limit of two minutes, none of the finalists will know
who’s won until it gets announced.

When the handcuffs are undone, Ricky pulls the blindfold over his head, squinting from the
bright lights above him.

Gyuvin is beaming at Ricky, lipstick smeared all over his lips and chin.

Fuck, Ricky hadn’t gotten that aggressive, had he?

Automatically, the two of them turn to look at Hanbin and Zhang Hao who are also standing
close together. Hanbin has lipstick smeared all over his face, on his nose, cheeks, and even
his forehead.

There’s no way of knowing if Ricky and Gyuvin have beaten them.

The knot in Ricky’s stomach tightens until it’s pulled as taut as a bowstring. This is what
they’ve been working for. This is meant to be the reward for their…fake dating. The reason
why they’ve been lying to the whole world, just for this holiday.

It had better not be for nothing.

And besides, Ricky doesn’t want everything to end yet, not for a few more days if he can
help it.
The four of them assemble on the podium next to Yeri and Seungkwan, nervously awaiting
the results.

“It’s been a long run, but we have now come to the end of this year’s Best Couple Contest,”
Seungkwan starts, reading from his cue card. “We’d like to thank everyone involved,
especially our contestants, but also you…”

Ricky resists the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, they’re going to take forever to actually get
to the results. He tunes out the rest of the speech thanking all the viewers for their voting and
time, then the organisers of the show.

“Now, let me remind you all that the first-place prize for this contest will be an all-expenses
paid couples’ weekend getaway trip!” Yeri says. “On behalf of our sponsors, we’d like to
thank…”

Oh, there they go again.

“Our runners-up will receive a luxury hotel spa day and dinner together, sponsored by…”

Can they just get to it already!? Ricky wants to scream. He reaches out for Gyuvin’s hand and
squeezes it tightly instead to vent his frustration. Gyuvin squeezes back, giving Ricky a
subtle nod. His hands are unusually sweaty.

“We will now be revealing the location of the holiday!” Yeri says, gesturing to the big screen.

The first thing Ricky notices is that the photos look like they’re somewhere in Europe. It
can’t be Paris though, that was where Hanbin and Zhang Hao went last year.

“Lisbon, Portugal!”

Oh, well, Ricky wouldn’t have expected that, but he’s certainly not going to complain.

JUST TELL ME WHO WON!!!!

“Sorry for keeping our lovely couples in suspense,” Seungkwan says with an amused
expression, clearly power-tripping over how long he can stretch things out before he
announces the winner. “I’ll put you out of your misery now.”

“Can the crowd count down from three with me?” Yeri shouts, gesturing to them. “In,
THREE, TWO…AND ONE!”

“The winners of the 2024 Best Couple Contest are…Kim Gyuvin and Shen Ricky!”

Even though Ricky’s been hoping to hear these words for the last fifteen minutes, scratch
that, for the last three months, it is another thing entirely for it to become his reality.

In a state of shock, he freezes into a statue. It’s all slow motion from there on – the cheers and
screams of the crowd, Gunwook punching his fist in the air in victory along with Matthew’s
triumphant grin, Seungkwan and Yeri turning to hand them the trophy, and the smiles on
Hanbin and Zhang Hao’s faces as they clap for him and Gyuvin.
If Ricky freezes and underreacts, then Gyuvin is the exact opposite. Yeri thrusts the trophy
into Ricky’s dangling arms and he stumbles as he wills his muscles to hold onto the plastic
trophy.

Gyuvin’s reaction is ridiculously over-the-top. He stumbles backward, hand over mouth, eyes
as wide as dinner plates, and trips over his own feet, landing butt-first on the floor.

And to think Ricky is in love with him.

As a laughing Hanbin hoists him up, Gyuvin’s still peering around as if he can’t believe it.

“Ricky!” Gyuvin cries, snatching the trophy from him and raising it above his head with both
hands as if they’ve won the Premier League or something. “We’ve made it! We’re going to
Portugal, baby!”

Ricky nods stiffly. To think this crazy scheme had worked. The credit has to go to Gunwook
and Matthew.

“IT’S HOLIDAY TIME, KIM RICKY!” Gyuvin hollers and then Ricky feels the ground part
ways with his feet as Gyuvin hauls him upwards by the waist, twirling him through the air.

“Put me down at once!” Ricky hisses furiously.

Gyuvin complies a second later, looking sheepish.

“Sorry, got too excited,” he says.

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed,” Ricky growls.

“A word from the winners…?” Yeri says a beat later, offering the mic to the two of them
awkwardly.

Well, um. Ricky automatically reaches for it and then when he’s holding it in his hand, he
realises he actually has to say something.

“Uh, first of all, I am actually very happy,” Ricky says monotonously. “I’m just still
processing. I’m sure it’ll hit any moment.”

Now, what else?

“I’ve always wanted to travel with Gyuvin,” Ricky continues. “Thank you for making my
dream come true. A big thank you to everyone who supported us, you’re the best. It’s a big
honour to win.”

He turns to Hanbin and Zhang Hao.

“You two were great rivals,” Ricky says with some cheek. “Sorry for taking you down, but it
need to be done.”

Zhang Hao shakes his head at him, but he’s beaming at Ricky.
“I’ll treat you to dinner later,” Ricky promises.

And then he needs to say something to Gyuvin.

“I know we only entered this on a whim so I can’t believe we got this far. None of it would
have been possible without you,” Ricky says genuinely. “And throughout this…I’ve learnt so
much more about you, and seen different sides of you. I think we’ve gotten closer and
stronger together than before.”

The crowd all coo at his words, so he must be doing a good job. There’s no need for acting
here.

He takes a deep breath and takes Gyuvin’s hand in his. Gyuvin looks at him, almost…
expectant.

“If I wasn’t in love with you before, then I definitely am now,” Ricky confesses sincerely,
with a smile, as a knife twists in his heart.

Gyuvin only grips onto his hand tighter. Ricky is too afraid to see the expression on his face
so instead he looks to the crowd.

There, he’s just bared his heart in front of everyone. On some level, he hopes Gyuvin realises
he meant it, even if the idea terrifies him.

Gyuvin gently takes the mic but doesn’t let go of Ricky’s hand.

“For me,” he says. “It’s been you since day one.”

Ricky is startled for a second then he remembers, ah right, that was their getting-together
story or was it? Around the time Yujin broke his wrist. Well, the audience are certainly
buying it, and so are Zhang Hao and Hanbin.

Gyuvin thanks everyone else and then the mic gets passed to Hanbin and Zhang Hao, who
both give very gracious, eloquent speeches.

“We had the crown last year, but now we’re passing it down to our hoobaes,” Hanbin says.
“May you wear the crown of ‘Best Couple’ well until it’s time for the next contest.”

“Well deserved,” Zhang Hao says, as he congratulates the two of them. “You were stiff
competition and worthy opponents. I want to see all the photos of you two when you get to
Portugal!”

The audience claps in agreement raucously at this, then suddenly some flowers get brought
out onto the stage for the MCs Yeri and Seungkwan, who have to thank everyone yet again.
The camera crew come out and take a bow and there’s a lot of celebrations and kerfuffle to
wrap everything up.

By the time they’re actually allowed to vacate the premises, Ricky feels utterly wrung out.
He’s using every last muscle to keep upright. Zhang Hao too, is not looking so good.
They’d also had to take photos with about fifty random people in the audience, which had
only encouraged more and more people to line-up for them as if they were actual celebrities
or something. Ricky wishes he could tell them he’s just a boy, a very lost and confused one at
that. So very lost that he could join Peter Pan and his crew.

His voice is starting to go hoarse from the amount of times he’s thanked someone. Luckily,
he gets to be attached to Gyuvin through it all, and his presence is comforting enough for
Ricky to hang on.

“Normally I’d say we should have dinner together, but I want to crawl into a dark room for a
few hours,” Zhang Hao says, looking bedraggled. “Hanbin, take me home, please.”

Hanbin, miraculously, seems unscathed, but immediately starts fretting over Zhang Hao.

“We’ll talk later,” he mouths to them before he’s whisked in the opposite direction by Zhang
Hao.

That leaves the two of them standing outside the sports hall, with a few remaining stragglers
still peering at them like they’re exotic zoo animals.

“You wanna go home too, right?” Gyuvin says. He’s not sagging despite Ricky leaning about
half his body weight onto Gyuvin.

“Yeah, let’s just celebrate with Gunwook and Matthew,” Ricky agrees weakly, so they begin
the walk back to their flat.

When they started the contest, it had been early spring, so the nights would have been
shrouded in a misty chill. But now the temperature remains ambient, the sun still blazing a
downward trail through the sky.

Now the shock of winning has dissipated, and reality has sunk in, Ricky begins to feel
uneasy. It’s a bit late to get all ethical now, not after they’ve won this contest after cheating
the entire way through it but Ricky’s starting to feel bad about taking the first prize when:

1. They’re not a real couple

2. They cheated

It had kind of been all hee-hee ha-ha when they were just competing, but now Ricky can’t
shake the feeling that the prize should have gone to a real couple, who can’t afford to go on
their own trip together.

Do they really deserve it?

But Gyuvin wouldn’t be able to afford a trip with him, it’s true. And while Ricky does have
plenty of cash at his disposal, he doesn’t have enough to fork out for such a luxurious trip.
His mother gives him a more-than-decent allowance each month, but a lot of their family’s
money are non-liquid assets, like their art collection and house.

Oh, who’s he kidding? Ricky’s still a rich second-generation kid who goes around flashing
designer labels and orders takeaway from five different restaurants, invoking small-order fees
just to hit his cravings.

Perhaps Hanbin and Zhang Hao should have been the ones to win again. They’re the ones
who are more strapped for cash.

As they walk, this train of thoughts eats away at Ricky, making the sinking weight in his
stomach heavier by the second, to the point that he can’t hold it in anymore.

The words explode from his mouth in a stream of verbal diarrhoea.

“Gyuvin, it’s not just me who’s starting to feel bad about winning, right?” Ricky says
pleadingly. “When we cheated our way through? Should we have really won? Can we really
accept the prize? I mean, as much as I want to go on holiday with you, I don’t know if I can
anymore. I feel so bad about the whole thing.”

Gyuvin doesn’t say anything immediately, so Ricky continues on.

“Especially as I know that Hanbin-hyung and Zhang Hao are saving up so they can afford to
rent the same place next year. Even if they went to Paris last year as a prize and we also kinda
entered the competition just to dethrone them. Gyuvin-ah, I feel like my head’s going to
explode!” Ricky blurts in one breath.

Now he’s panting from the exertion of walking and talking at the same time, but luckily,
Gyuvin halts in his tracks.

Or not. Ricky feels apprehension bubble inside him. What if Gyuvin doesn’t feel the same
way? And Ricky’s just ruined what should be a happy day for them…and essentially
implying that he thinks they should pull out of all this. Which defeats the whole point of them
entering this competition to begin with. Or if Gyuvin’s offended and thinks that Ricky
doesn’t want to go on holiday with him anymore and is just using this as an excuse? Or-

Suddenly, his chin brushes over the shoulder of Gyuvin’s black trench coat. Gyuvin’s
wrapped him in a tight hug, right in the middle of the street in broad daylight – well, the
approaching sunset.

“I told you you’ve always been a good person like that,” Gyuvin murmurs into Ricky’s ear.
“You know, I had half a mind that you would say this. You already mentioned it before we
even entered, but you still went ahead with it, for me right?”

“Well yes,” Ricky says, not wanting to say it outright. I would do anything for you, dumbass.
“Who else would it have been for?”

Once he gets over the fact that they’re hugging it out on a sidewalk and obstructing the
pavement (people are giving them a wide berth), Ricky raises his arms and hugs Gyuvin
back, because it is a pretty comforting position to be in.

“So it’s up to you,” Gyuvin says softly, loosening his grip so he can look at Ricky face-to-
face. “What you want to do. Whether you want to give the prize to Hao-hyung and Hanbin-
hyung, or even tell them we cheated, I’m on board. I won’t be mad.”
“You won’t?” Ricky blinks, momentarily speechless. He hadn’t realised it was that easy.
“You don’t mind?”

Gyuvin’s expression sags a little.

“Well, of course I want to go on holiday with you,” Gyuvin says and reaches up to cup
Ricky’s cheeks with his palms. “But what’s the point in going if my Ricky doesn’t feel happy
about it?”

Ba-dump.

If Ricky was an anime character, his nose would have started bleeding profusely.

“I’m not your Ricky,” he stammers weakly, trying to ignore the small creatures jumping
around for joy inside his chest. “Don’t be so cheesy.”

“Whatever,” Gyuvin shrugs with a final squeeze of Ricky’s cheeks. “You love it, really.”

And that’s the trouble, really.

Well, Ricky doesn’t have to be rash. He’ll sleep on it before he decides anything. Because if
they don’t go on the trip, him and Gyuvin need to talk and sort their shit out or something.
And he still would rather avoid that.

“Congratulations!” Gunwook and Matthew yell in unison as Ricky and Gyuvin walk through
the door, and there’s two small bangs as they pull open two party poppers in their face.

Once Ricky’s finished spitting confetti out his mouth and brushing it out his hair, they sit
down to a celebratory dinner of chicken and cola. He tries to brush the events from earlier out
of his mind. Gunwook had put in so much work for them, and he’d been rooting for them all
along. Ricky doesn’t want to spoil the mood for him as well.

“You know, it was so close,” Gunwook tells them as he shreds the meat off the bones of a
defenseless chicken wing. “You and Gyuvin were only a couple of seconds faster.”

“I was holding my breath for real,” Matthew says, grabbing a cheese ball from the box. “I
mean, given they’d been practicing too.”

The crunching of chicken ceases dramatically as Gyuvin, Ricky, and Gunwook collectively
turn to stare at Matthew in confusion.

Matthew remains happily oblivious as he swallows the remainder of the cheese ball until he
realises he’s the centre of attention.
“What?” Matthew chirps, then falters. “Oh, what I said earlier? They just look as if they’ve
been practicing too, ‘cos they were so good too.”

“I’m not buying it,” Gyuvin deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

“Neither am I,” Ricky says, crossing his arms.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Gunwook declares with finality, eyeing his boyfriend with suspicion.
“What did you mean by that?”

Matthew gives them a beseeching look.

“C’mon guys,” he whines, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Can we do this later? After
we finish the chicken?”

“NO.” The three of them chime in unison.

Matthew groans.

“What’s the point of a man if he’s not going to stick up for me when I need it?” he grumbles.

“You said they had been practicing too,” Gunwook says loudly, acting as if he hadn’t heard
him. “Implying they knew what the final round task was.”

“Ah, my Gunwookie is too sharp,” Matthew sighs fondly, even in his exasperation. He looks
defeated. “Fine, okay. They did know.”

“And how would you know that?” Gunwook says, exactly like a lawyer cross-examining a
witness on the stand.

Matthew’s big cow eyes put up a valiant fight as Gunwook flags a little, but ultimately the
strength of his candour shines through.

“How do you know that?” He repeats sternly. “And where did they get that information
from?”

Ricky almost feels bad for the interrogation Matthew is going through, the keyword being
almost. Because he feels a thin thread of hope start to form.

If they were both cheating…

Well, in a true ethical sense, then they should both withdraw from the competition and the
couple in third place should win.

But Ricky’s happy enough with the train of thought that if they’re both cheating, then he feels
a lot less awful about accepting the holiday prize to Portugal.

“Me and Hanbin are best friends,” Matthew defends himself. “We go way back. Of course I
know everything about him.”
“Matthew, you’re still hiding things…”

“Okay fine!” Matthew dramatically flings himself out of his seat. “This has been a weight on
my chest anyway. I’m sorry guys, I’m a double agent.”

“Huh?” Gyuvin and Ricky look at each other, puzzled.

“I’ve been supplying information to both Gunwook and Hanbin,” Matthew confesses. “I’ve
been helping both of you cheat in this contest while keeping it a secret from both of you at
the same time. Fucking hell, it feels good to say that out loud.”

Ricky’s jaw drops to the floor. Gyuvin gawps at him, while Gunwook lets out a groan.

“I knew you were hiding something,” Gunwook said, facepalming. “You’re telling me you
told me your business with Taerae and Jiwoong just to throw me off the trail?”

“I panicked, okay?” Matthew cries. “Do you know how hard it’s been for me to live with
these divided loyalties?”

“I mean, no one forced you to do it…” Gyuvin points out astutely.

“But I wanted one of you to win,” Matthew pouts. It’s honestly a huge advantage to be as
cute and squishable as he is. It really makes it extremely difficult to stay mad at him for long.
“And I had the power to do something about it.”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Ricky says solemnly. “Who knew Matthew
was the real mastermind after all?”

“I can’t believe Gunwook just got played,” Gyuvin agrees. “I never thought I’d live to see the
day. By his own boyfriend no less.”

“We thought Gunwook was at the wheel,” Ricky follows on. “But it turns out Matthew’s been
driving the car all along.”

Meanwhile, Gunwook is left too gobsmacked for words.

“You…how…” he stutters at Matthew, who bats his eyelashes apologetically. “You scare me!
You’ve played me for a fool! You’ve made a mockery out of me!”

A tad melodramatic, but it gets the point across well enough, Ricky supposes. 10/10 for
delivery, 5/10 for cringe.

“Me?!” Matthew gasps, radiating naivety and innocence. Ricky shivers slightly. He can’t take
that angelic smile at face value anymore. He’s underestimated Matthew. He’s not your typical
happy-go-lucky guy. He’s a genius. Wow, him and Gunwook really are made for each other.
They probably initiate complex mind games as foreplay.

“You would have done the same if it had been Gyuvin and Ricky competing against each
other, don’t say that you wouldn’t!” Matthew protests.
“Argh, fine!” Gunwook says. “You win this one, Mashu Seok!”

Everyone has completely forgotten about the chicken, which is starting to go cold. Ricky
continues to help himself to fries and pokes Gyuvin, handing him a drumstick. Gyuvin gives
him a toothy grin. They watch the live entertainment as they continue eating.

“But you’re going to have to make up for it somehow,” Gunwook whines sulkily.

“You’re just annoyed that you’re not the ‘smart’ one between us anymore,” Matthew says
smugly. “Suck it up, bro.”

Ricky and Gyuvin both wince. A little too dead on.

Gunwook staggers as well, as if truly dealt a fatal blow.

“You…you’re incorrigible!” he splutters. “Ack! You fiend!”

“Don’t worry, babe, I can still make it up to you,” Matthew gives Gunwook a look that Ricky
really wishes he would reserve for the bedroom.

“Alright! Bzzt!” Gyuvin lets out a warning buzz, making an ‘X’ sign with his hands. “Have
some decorum.”

“You were sucking Ricky’s face off during the finals,” Gunwook retorts. “That was never
part of the challenge.”

Gyuvin chokes on his food.

“Yeah, it wasn’t,” Ricky says. “What was that about, huh?”

Sue him if he wants to make him sweat a little.

“Just got carried away in the moment,” Gyuvin explains hastily. “And it gave the audience
what they wanted to see. Don’t think I haven’t seen the comments.”

Ricky shudders. The constant requests for the tape…

“Anyway,” Matthew switches the subject back to their latest scandal. “You two would have
won without cheating anyway. Your popularity votes were sky-high all the way through.
Regardless of the challenges, people loved you guys as a couple.”

He fixes Ricky with a steely look, almost as if he’s reading his mind.

“Don’t feel guilty about taking the prize,” Matthew says. “Not when I worked so hard to
procure it for one of you two. You beat Hanbin and Zhang Hao fair and square. You were on
the same playing field. I made sure of it.”

“That’s right,” Gunwook adds firmly. “Especially you, Ricky. I know you. You would have
made it to the finals regardless. And then it was an even match. You two simply came out on
top and won.”
Gyuvin gives him an encouraging smile as well.

“Why’s this all about me suddenly?” Ricky complains.

“Because we all know you’re a huge softie,” Gyuvin says, rubbing a hand over Ricky’s knee.
“Sleep on it, okay?”

They clear up together after dinner and retire to their respective rooms. At this point, Gyuvin
only sleeps in his room if he has to get up early for baseball practice and doesn’t want to
wake Ricky. There’s no reason to continue to share the room, but it seems to have become a
habit for them, and Ricky sleeps better when Gyuvin is there anyway.

“Let’s go,” Ricky tells Gyuvin as they lay in bed together. “I want to go with you.”

Gyuvin lets out a giggle.

“Was it bad of me to hope that you’d change your mind?” he says. “I’d respect your decision
either way, but I’m so excited! I’ve never been to Europe, and now I get to see it with you.”

“Me too,” Ricky agrees. “As in, I’ve never been to Portugal. That’s a first for me too.”

The details of the trip come through by email the following morning. They’d already known
about the dates beforehand but it’s going to be next Friday, and they’ll set off Friday evening,
returning to Korea on Monday. Due to the university's absence policy or something annoying,
they only get one day off during term-time.

In the few days leading up to the trip, Ricky and Gyuvin find themselves the center of a lot of
attention wherever they go, even more so than before. The fame had been exciting at first, but
they’re both tired of it at this point. Ricky takes to hats and sunglasses when he just wants to
pop down to the convenience store without being asked for a photo.

He supposes that’s the price they’re paying for the holiday. And really, once they graduate, it
will all go away.

Ricky updates his mum with the news that they won, as does Gyuvin with his parents.
Naturally, they’re happy for their sons and just tell them to have a good time.

“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do,” Ricky’s mum says but she winks at him.

“Mum!” Ricky groans. “Stop it!”

“Oh relax,” she says. “We’re both adults. Stay safe, darling.”

Ricky chooses to interpret that as not doing anything risky while out on holiday.
The weather is scheduled to be hot and sunny, so Ricky invests in some good sunscreen, and
rummages through his collection of hats, and sunglasses trying to decide what to bring, while
making sure he packs swimming trunks, goggles, sandals and light summer clothes. He’s also
bringing all his hair and skin products with him, which take up a decent amount of room.

Here's the real dilemma.

Ricky stares forlornly at the lube and condoms in his drawer. Should he bring them? Is it just
going to be two bros in a hot tub sitting six feet apart, or are they still going to be in couple
mode?

Well, there’s no harm wishing, is there. And oops, in they go. His hand slipped. If Gyuvin
sees them, he can be as weirded out as he wants or they can…actually make use of them.
They haven’t ‘done’ anything since winning the competition, which is what leaves Ricky
unsure of where they stand with each other.

Both him and Gyuvin have their belongings neatly packed a day beforehand, which is unlike
them to be so organised. But then again, Ricky has never travelled with Gyuvin, so it could
be that Gyuvin is organised when it comes to holidays.

Sometimes holidays are what make or break friendships. Ricky doesn’t dare think what it
might do to them. Situationship is not quite the right word for it either.

When Friday comes, Ricky’s life feels more like a surrealist movie than ever before.

Record scratch. Freeze frame.

Yep, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I got here, about to go on a free couple’s
vacation to Portugal with my best friend who I’ve been fake dating for the last three months.

He muddles through morning classes in a haze, and it’s obvious, even to his professor that his
heart isn’t in it. She even congratulates him on the holiday, which he awkwardly accepts.

Because the flight to Portugal is long as hell (15 hours from Seoul, seriously??), they’re
taking an early afternoon flight so by the time they arrive in Lisbon, it’ll be 9pm there.
They’re going to be exhausted, but Ricky’s hoping the excitement of the trip will tide them
over until they crash out into bed on the first night.

Gyuvin’s digging into his mum’s kimchijjigae and rice when Ricky arrives home at lunch.

“I’m getting my fill of Korean food just in case,” Gyuvin explains, wolfing down the meal
with gusto.

“You know we’re only going to be away for three days?”

Ricky is kind of a hypocrite here, because he’s also eating Chinese for lunch. And just in
case, he’s packed some ramen in case he starts getting serious cravings in Lisbon.

Gunwook joins them at some point then mysteriously, whisks Gyuvin away with him.
“We need to talk,” he says to Gyuvin, with no further explanation. Ricky just watches as
Gyuvin follows Gunwook into his room. He just continues digging into his smoked fish and
rice. Man, that sauce is something.

When he finishes his lunch and Gyuvin’s still inside, Ricky quits waiting for him. It’s been
ten minutes. Seriously, what the heck are they discussing? The taxi’s going to be here any
minute.

He makes some last-minute checks on their inventory, making sure they have their tickets,
passports, and hotel check-in details, but Gyuvin’s still in there. Ricky stalks up to the door
and is just about to knock when it swings wide open.

“ARGH!” Gyuvin screams as he sees Ricky. He slides around him and retreats into the
bathroom.

He’s obviously freaking out if he’s this jumpy. Travelling nerves? What on earth happened in
that room?

Gunwook appears in the doorframe, humming so casually that Ricky can tell it’s a pretense.

“What did you do to Gyuvin?” Ricky hisses at him. “Why does he look like he’s seen a
ghost?”

“Just reminded him of something he should really know by now,” Gunwook says cryptically,
and Ricky realises that he’s not going to expand on it any further than that.

“Is this something related to me, by any chance?” Ricky asks flatly.

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies,” Gunwook replies unfathomably, which pretty
much answers his question, that yes, it is related to him.

Fear suddenly hammers at Ricky’s heart. He enters Gunwook’s bedroom and shuts the door
behind him.

“Don’t tell me you…” Ricky begins menacingly then lowers his voice. The last thing he
needs is for Gyuvin to overhear. “About that.”

“God, Ricky, who do you take me for?” Gunwook says. “Of course I didn’t tell him that.”

“Fine, alright.” Ricky immediately feels himself deflating. His phone vibrates in his pocket.
That’ll be the taxi.

Ricky bangs impatiently on the bathroom door.

“You better finish whatever you’re doing in there right now,” he shouts. “The taxi’s here!”

With a click, the door opens. Ricky doesn’t hear a flush, or water running though. Gyuvin
steps straight out, with that same spooked expression from earlier.

“What were you doing?” Ricky asks cautiously but Gyuvin waves him off.
“I always have my best thoughts in the toilet.”

Ricky decides to leave it at that.

They clamber into the backseat once their luggage has been loaded into the boot. As the taxi
driver starts the engine and pulls out from their flat, the excitement begins to set in. Him and
Gyuvin are going on a trip together!

Then their taxi takes the junction into a main road and slows to a dead halt as walking-pace
traffic surrounds them.

“Are you kidding me?” Ricky sighs, glancing at his watch. “I hope this doesn’t take too
long.”

The flight is in three hours and this is meant to be a half-hour drive. Because of the first-class
tickets, they have more leeway when it comes to checking in. But this traffic doesn’t look
promising at all.

He nudges Gyuvin with his shoulder and continues to be puzzled as Gyuvin startles like a
deer in headlights, banging his head on the ceiling of the car.

“What’s gotten into you?” Ricky says, starting to feel concerned. “Are you ill or something?”

He places a hand over Gyuvin’s forehead, feeling for a temperature.

“You’re warm but not feverish,” Ricky says. “Do you feel sick? I have travel sickness pills if
you need them.”

“Bwah.” Gyuvin responds, flushing a deep shade of red. “I mean, yeah, I’ll take one. Are
they the sedating kind?”

“Not a clue.” Ricky passes him the box so he can read the side effects himself. “But seriously
Gyuvin. You’d tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

Gyuvin swallows the pill with a gulp of water and nods.

“Just give me an hour,” Gyuvin says. “MY stomach’s feeling a bit weird. But I’m sure it’ll
pass.”

“Is it to do with whatever Gunwook wanted to talk to you about?” Ricky asks. He reaches out
for Gyuvin’s hand. “I won’t pry if it’s meant to be a secret but I don’t want you all stressed
out when we’re about to go on holiday together.”

“Don’t worry about it, Rik,” Gyuvin says stiffly. To Ricky’s shock, he withdraws his hand
from Ricky’s grip and tucks them in his pockets. “I’m going to nap until we get to the airport.
Can you wake me up when we get there?”

Then he closes his eyes, leaving Ricky none the wiser.

Vaguely, Ricky wonders if this is payback from Gunwook for the events of the chicken
yesterday, and insinuating Matthew is smarter than him, so in return he’s done a little
psychological warfare. That could never be true, Gunwook himself is rooting for Ricky and
Gyuvin, although Ricky’s still not optimistic about his chances.

Especially not now. Whatever Gunwook had been intending to do, whether to help Ricky or
not, must have backfired.

He only hopes that the rest of the trip will be okay.

Miraculously, when they arrive at the airport, they’re on time and when Ricky pokes Gyuvin
in the ribs to wake him up, whatever funk he was in earlier has disappeared. He returns to
acting like the same old Gyuvin and happily lets Ricky holds his hand as they walk through
the airport, even as Gyuvin’s pushing the luggage trolley with one hand.

They head over to check in and once that’s done, they go through security, then find the first-
class lounge. An hour remains till take-off. They set their stuff down, then go to raid the free
buffet, which consists of breakfast pastries, cheese and ice cream and a range of drinks.

Gyuvin loads up a plate and they sit back down in their little booth. Ricky has acquired a
glass of Prosecco.

“They’ve got a menu for hot food as well,” Ricky says, pointing at the QR code at their table.
“Do you want anything?”

“I shouldn’t have had so much lunch,” Gyuvin says regretfully. “The selection looks good.
Ooh, galbitang.”

“Have some fruit salad or something then,” Ricky suggests, picking blueberry pancakes for
himself. “Or share my pancakes.”

He spoon-feeds Gyuvin a bite then decides the rest belongs to him. They’re soft and fluffy
and dissolve in his mouth like candyfloss.

Both of them have dressed comfortably for the long-haul flight, but Gyuvin still looks far too
good in his jeans and jacket. Ricky decides to tell him as such.

“What’s gotten into you,” Gyuvin grumbles, but he seems pleased by the compliment. “You
look really good too.”

“Now it just feels like you’re only saying that because I said it to you first.”

“Hey, if you can compliment me, why can’t I compliment you back?” Gyuvin protests.

A while later, they walk to the terminal and board their flight and settle into their seats next to
each other. The plane takes off while the two of them hold hands, their matching rings
clinking together between their intertwined fingers.

As the plane climbs higher, Ricky turns to sneak a glance at Gyuvin, only to discover he’s
already watching Ricky. Gyuvin turns his focus back to the movie he’s watching on his own
screen, refusing to acknowledge it.

Eight hours later, even with the in-flight meals, snacks, wifi and free movies on demand,
Ricky is getting bored. And boredom is dangerous.

Gyuvin for reasons unknown, is doing a Kung Fu Panda movie marathon. The first three
films are available. Ricky waits until the boss battle of the second film has finished before he
reaches out to sneak his hand underneath Gyuvin’s blanket, searching for his thigh.

As soon as Gyuvin registers the grip on his thigh, he shoots Ricky a panicked look.

“What?” Gyuvin whispers. Ricky lets his fingers climb upwards till he’s palming the front of
Gyuvin’s trousers.

“I’m bored,” Ricky whispers, slow blinking at him.

“You’re crazy,” Gyuvin hisses in a whisper then bites his lip as Ricky manages to unzip his
fly and caress Gyuvin’s soft dick, which is quickly stirring.

“Just stay quiet,” Ricky says calmly. The last meal’s been served and the overhead lights are
off, most of the plane is winding down to sleep as it’s night time in Korea.

He’s only got one hand at his disposal, so Ricky takes his time working Gyuvin to full
hardness over his underwear. When Gyuvin’s hard enough, Ricky pulls down the elastic band
of his boxers and frees his dick.

Gyuvin lets out a little groan that he attempts to disguise as a cough as Ricky drags his thumb
over the head of his cock, trying to siphon whatever precome he can to use as reduce the drag
of his hand as he pumps Gyuvin.

“Damn, I’ve barely done anything yet,” Ricky says with a grin, letting go of Gyuvin’s dick to
play with his balls. “Don’t get us caught.”

“Easy for you to say,” Gyuvin mutters through gritted teeth. “We shouldn’t be doing this,
Ricky, fuck.”

“I’ll stop if you ask,” Ricky says. Plus, Gyuvin hadn’t done anything to push his hand away.
In fact, he’s bucking ever-so-slightly into Ricky’s fist. “You want me to stop, Gyuvin?”

“No,” Gyuvin admits, sounding mortified. “Don’t stop.”

As Gyuvin white-knuckle grips the armrests of his seat, he accidentally mashes an entire
array of buttons and the reading light turns on out of its own accord, illuminating Gyuvin’s
face.

His bottom lip is red and swollen from how hard he’s biting down on it, eyes squeezed shut
as he tries not to lose control. His face is flushed, sweat coating his forehead under his bangs.

As the light turns on, an attentive flight attendant walks over to their seat. Ricky stops
moving his hand but keeps it there. He feels Gyuvin twitch against him.
“Sir, but we ask that all passengers keep lights off after 11 pm to allow the other passengers
to sleep,” she says apologetically. “If you want to read, could I ask you to use this dimmer
nightlight here?”

“Sorry,” Gyuvin says breathlessly. “It was an accident.”

“We’ll turn it off,” Ricky promises and reaches over to turn it off.

Once the flight attendant walks away, both of them exhale in relief.

“Oh my god,” Gyuvin gasps. “I thought I was gonna die.”

“Let’s hurry up,” Ricky agrees and goes a bit harder, despite the ache in his wrist. Luckily,
the wet slick sounds of Gyuvin rutting against his hand are drowned out by the mechanical
hum of the plane.

“Ricky,” Gyuvin warns him. He reaches his own hands under the blanket, laying one over
Ricky’s as he comes, the other holding a tissue which he catches his load in. Impressively,
Gyuvin manages to stay quiet, only releasing a heavy exhale.

He slumps back in his seat, mentally and physically drained.

“I’m gonna wash my hands,” Ricky says, getting up to go to the bathroom.

He locks the door behind him and takes in his flushed face.

Ricky can’t believe he just publicly jerked Gyuvin off on a plane and what’s more, he loved
every second of it.

He hadn’t thought he would be joining the mile-high club, but Gyuvin proves too difficult to
resist.

Well, overall it had gone quite well.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Occupied,” Ricky calls back irritably.

“It’s me,” Gyuvin says from outside. “Let me in, you bastard.”

The door unlocks and Gyuvin squeezes himself in. There’s hardly any room, even in the first-
class bathroom. It simply wasn’t built for two six-foot men to stand inside.

Gyuvin has to stand behind Ricky to fit in, and even then, the two of them are sandwiched
together.

“I can’t believe you made me join the mile-high club,” Gyuvin says in exasperation. “I could
have got come all over my jeans.”

“Dry-cleaning exists?” Ricky suggests.

“Or worse we could have been arrested for public indecency!” Gyuvin semi-shrieks. “What
if-?”

“Why did you come here, Gyuvin?” Ricky interrupts him, rinsing his hands under the tap.
“To yell at me for giving you a hand job?”

That shuts him up.

“What-what do you think I came for?” Gyuvin says apprehensively. “To return the favour?”

Well…Gyuvin might have just come, but Ricky can still feel him pressed against his ass.
Ricky himself is hard as a fucking rock.

“I mean, that’s why I assumed you wanted to come into the bathroom,” Ricky trails off.
Perhaps he’d been presumptuous. “You could’ve just waited for me to finish if you wanted to
wash your hands or piss.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Gyuvin admits. “I guess my body just moved and I ended up here. I just
wanna touch you.”

He untucks Ricky’s shirt from his jeans and slides his hand up Ricky’s shirt, till he’s cupping
his chest, squeezing deftly at his pecs, thumbing his nipples.

“Mmn,” Ricky lets the noise out more from surprise than anything. His knees sag and he ends
up bucking backward, pressing his ass against Gyuvin’s crotch.

“Whoa, still sensitive,” Gyuvin hisses. He keeps one hand on Ricky’s chest, while the other
undoes his belt and sticks his hand down Ricky’s pants.

“Aaaieeeyyyaaah,” Ricky wheezes, smacking his hand. “Your hand is freezing. Freaking
icicle fingers.”

“Warm them up for me then?” Gyuvin says, pulling his hand back up to grab Ricky’s chin
with those cold fingers.

It’s incredibly unhygienic but Ricky lets Gyuvin shove his fingers in Ricky’s mouth,
swallowing each one down to the knuckle, even if he chokes a little.

To make matters worse (or better), the bathroom mirror reflects everything they’re doing.
Ricky can see the drool leaking down his chin as Gyuvin warms his fingers in Ricky’s mouth
while squeezing at his nipple.

When sufficiently warm, Gyuvin sticks his hand back down Ricky’s pants, going at it with
fast, rough, strokes.

Ricky’s got his hands planted on either side of the mirror to stay upright, tongue lolling out
his mouth as Gyuvin strokes him, trying to keep the moans to a minimum. The walls are ever
so thin.
“God, you make me crazy,” Gyuvin breathes against Ricky’s neck. “You don’t know half of
what I want to do to you.”

Ah- what?

Ricky’s vision turns into fuzzy static as he blows his load all over Gyuvin’s fingers (and
unfortunately, inside his pants).

When he comes to, he realises Gyuvin has a hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

“Do you want the whole plane to hear you?” he whispers. His grip tightens around Ricky’s
waist. “I don’t want them to hear how you sound either.”

Jesus. If Ricky packs a punch, Gyuvin certainly hits back twice as hard. The trip is already
starting with a bang, pun intended.

The successive hand jobs tire the two of them out enough to sleep. They get cleaned up and
change into pyjamas before settling down for the night.

When Ricky comes to, it’s from the flight attendant shaking him awake.

“An hour until landing,” she tells him.

Ricky takes the time to change back into fresh clothes and clean himself up a little. He can
see the houses of Portugal from down below. He sees red tile roofs and stone buildings. It
looks very different to Korea. It reminds him more of the other countries in Europe he’s been
to, like Italy and Spain.

The sun is already setting, which feels novel, considering they’ve just woken up for the
Korean morning.

The plane touches down at Lisbon Airport at 9pm. By the time he and Gyuvin have passed
immigration, collected their luggage and boarded the taxi, it’s past ten o’clock but both of
them are wide awake.

Gyuvin is awestruck as they leave the airport, craning his head out the window to admire all
the buildings around them.

They’re staying at the Olissippo Lapa Palace Hotel, a 5-star hotel that is pretty much the
complete package. There’s swimming pool access, a gym, spa, buffet breakfast, and
interestingly on the list of amenities and services ‘soundproofed’ rooms.

The taxi starts to shake as the tires roll over uneven cobblestone, before pulling left through
iron-wrought gates in front of a stately peach-coloured villa.

The taxi doors are opened by doormen in formal attire, who greet them warmly in English.

Ricky bites back a laugh as Gyuvin stutters out a thank you in English to them.
“What room are you staying in?” the doorman asks them. Their luggage is already being
loaded onto a trolley by the porter.

“The Royal Suite?” Ricky says, reading off their booking.

“Ooh! Lucky!” The doorman says. He looks between Ricky and Gyuvin, then catches sight
of the rings on their hands. “Are you two here as a couple? Honeymoon, perhaps?”

Ricky doesn’t think the doorman would even believe them if he said they were friends. And
he’s tired and musty from the flight.

“That’s right,” he says and the doorman smiles at them, giving them a thumbs-up.

“Reception is this way,” he says, gesturing to the left.

They check in and are told to wait a few minutes, which Gyuvin and Ricky spend admiring
the lobby. It’s stunning, warm-toned marble floors and mosaics on the walls, sofas and
armchairs clustered to the sides. Ricky can see the entrance of the hotel restaurant, as well as
a bar and smoking room. In the center of the reception, there’s a table with vases of fresh
flowers. It’s utterly pristine.

Ricky’s been to a few five-star hotels, but he still finds it very impressive how beautiful a
hotel can be. Gyuvin is similarly awestruck, unable to suppress his excitement, which he
expresses through bouncing up and down on the spot.

The doorman fetches them and takes them up a wooden lift to the fifth floor.

“This is one of our exclusive suites,” he informs them. “It’s part of the original Palace and the
only one of its kind in the hotel, beside the Tower Room suite.”

They follow him through the corridor until they reach the end. Beyond there, there’s another
small wing, which they walk through. The carpet is spongy beneath his feet. The doorman
unlocks their door and Ricky and Gyuvin look at each other.

“Whoa…”

“That’s what most guests usually say,” The doorman laughs. “The bathroom is on your left,
with a jacuzzi.”

They’re standing in a small room, already with the bathroom on the left and wardrobes on the
right. Beyond that is an entire sitting room, decorated with 19th-century furniture. A
chandelier dangles from the high ceiling, and sconces adorn the walls. If it looks so beautiful
at night, Ricky can’t imagine how it’ll look when the sun rises and it’s full of natural light.

Beyond the sitting room, there’s a king-size bed, some more fancy-looking chairs, a TV and
French windows that lead out to a massive terrace.

The doorman explains breakfast and pool access to them, before asking if there’s anything
else they need.
Ricky and Gyuvin hastily thank him and give a tip. As soon as he leaves, they turn to each
other and start screaming. The rooms are meant to be soundproof, after all. And they seem
very far away from the other rooms.

“This is INSANE!” Ricky cries, looking around. “Man, I’m so glad we came!”

“Once-in-a-lifetime experience for sure,” Gyuvin agrees.

There’s another knock on their door, which is the porter delivering their luggage.

Once he leaves, the two of them choose to step out onto the terrace to take in the night view.

“Why did you say yes when the doorman asked if we were here on our honeymoon?” Gyuvin
asks him.

Ricky hesitates.

“He was already thinking it,” he says in a neutral voice. “I didn’t want to burst his bubble. I
saw him looking at our rings.”

At the mention of their rings, Gyuvin looks at his own, stretching his hand out and admiring
it from afar.

“Can you imagine if you were here for a honeymoon?” he asks.

The view is gorgeous, even if it’s dark. In the distance, Ricky can see the swimming pool and
hear children screaming.

“My honeymoon?” Ricky says sharply. “Or do you mean our honeymoon?”

“Well, that’s pretty much what this is, isn’t it?” Gyuvin says. “A romantic couple’s getaway
trip.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same as a honeymoon, is it?” Ricky argues for argument’s sake. “It’s
not as if we’re actually married.”

“What if was real?” Gyuvin manages to stun Ricky into silence with that one. “If we were.”

“Well…well,” Ricky stammers out, his chest constricting painfully. It feels like the blood is
burning in his veins. “I’d say this is a good place for it. If we were married.”

They stand in silence for a moment, as a cool breeze blows over the terrace. It’s starting to
get a little chilly out. They should head in soon.

“Mr and Mr. Kim,” Gyuvin says. “Kim Gyuvin and Kim Ricky.”

“I’m not taking your name,” Ricky says. “Why don’t you become Shen Gyuvin? Right, I’m
cold.”
He turns back inside. They need to unpack and shower. Maybe they can go see the swimming
pool or something if they’re not tired yet.

Him and Gyuvin organise their shoes and clothes inside the wardrobes at the entrance and
check out the bathroom. There’s a large bathtub, a double sink, as well as a jacuzzi tub, as
well as a shower.

“I think I’m gonna shower,” Ricky decides, then looks at Gyuvin. “Unless you want to go
first?”

“Nah, you can,” he says. “You keep saying you feel gross.”

“Cool,” Ricky says. He discovers bathrobes on the back of the door. “Do you wanna do
anything tonight like swim, or nah?”

“I’d rather stay in,” Gyuvin admits. “I want to call my family and send some photos to
everyone. You?”

“Fine by me.” Ricky takes off his jacket and hangs it up. “I’ll go figure out how the shower
works.”

He fiddles with the taps and eventually manages to taper it to a normal water pressure, rather
than a garden hose and lower the temperature from scalding to comfortable.

Ricky’s taking his shirt off in the bathroom when there’s a knock.

“It’s unlocked,” Ricky says. He strips off his shirt just as Gyuvin comes in. It’s no biggie.
Nothing he hasn’t seen. “What?”

“I was thinking…” Gyuvin swallows as Ricky unbuckles his trousers and kicks them off. “Do
you wanna, like, shower together?”

Ricky can hardly believe his ears.

“You want to…shower with me?” he says, embarrassed at how faint his voice sounds.

“Might as well save time,” Gyuvin says, looking everywhere but at Ricky. “To tell the truth,
I’m dying to shower as well. And this one’s quite big.”

“Okay, whatever,” Ricky agrees. He just wants to get under the water as soon as possible.
“I’m going in. Just join whenever.”

He hopes he’s coming off as casual, because internally he’s screaming. In Korea, Ricky and
Gyuvin are best friends who fuck around. But in Portugal, Ricky and Gyuvin are a married
couple on their honeymoon, apparently.

As soon as Ricky steps under the water, he starts washing his hair, because he’s worried he
won’t be able to focus on much once Gyuvin comes in. He can hear Gyuvin undoing his
trousers, the sound of his clothes hitting the floor. Ricky’s purposely facing the wall so he’s
not watching him strip.
Why does it matter really, when Gyuvin’s going to come in naked?

And when Gyuvin does join Ricky in the shower, he stands far too close for comfort, enough
to make the hairs on the back of Ricky’s neck prickle.

For a few minutes, they actually do shower, both of them washing their hair as normal with
their backs to each other. So maybe this is just going to be a normal shower between bros
after all. All that trepidation for nothing.

Then they simultaneously reach for the bodywash, hands brushing.

Ricky knocks Gyuvin’s wrist out the way, trying to pump some into his hand, only for
Gyuvin to swat at his hand.

“Oi!” Ricky says.

“Says the one who shoved me out the way first!”

“I didn’t shove you!”

“Same difference!”

Somehow it turns into a wrestle for the bodywash, the two of them pushing at each other as
the showerhead continues to rain hot water on them.

Then Gyuvin hugs Ricky from behind, pulling Ricky away from the bodywash. It seems he
intends to spin them around, so he can get closer access to it, except for the fact they’re
completely naked.

Ricky stiffens in panic as his bare ass presses right into Gyuvin’s junk. Gyuvin does spin
them around, triumphantly pumping the bodywash into his hand, then also freezes as he
realises Ricky has stopped struggling.

“Oh.” Gyuvin says dumbly.

“Oh.” Ricky echoes in kind.

It feels like it was a total accident but c’mon, there’s no way Gyuvin didn’t see this coming.
Asking to shower with him, right after they’d jerked each other off on the plane, and thinking
it wouldn’t lead to something like this.

And now Gyuvin’s put Ricky in this position, he’s not going to just let him off. Ricky steps
backwards, until he’s got Gyuvin sandwiched in between him and the wall, and then as if
they’re in that cramped little aeroplane bathroom, grinds backwards against him. He feels
Gyuvin twitch against him immediately.

“Ricky,” Gyuvin groans. He reaches up to run his hands down Ricky’s arms. Ah, they’re
covered in bodywash.
 “Was this what you wanted?” Ricky asks, reaching down to touch his own aching hard-on.
“When you asked to shower with me?”

“No! Honest!” Gyuvin cries, letting out a pitiful moan as Ricky continues to rock against him
at the same time. “I really-wasn’t-planning-anything.”

“Hmm,” Ricky hums. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”

“Seriously,” Gyuvin whines, reaching down to Ricky’s hips and pulling Ricky flush against
him. The head of his cock slips between Ricky’s cheeks, sliding over his hole.

Ricky gasps at the sensation, a full-body shiver coming over him.

“Fuck,” he pants out. “Gyuvin, please, do that again.”

On command, Gyuvin repeats the movement, except this time he parts Ricky’s cheeks with
his hands, so he can slip his cock further between them. Ricky bends over and plants his
hands on the opposite wall, breathing raggedly.

“Fuck, fuck,” he says, grasping for words. With one harsher thrust, Ricky feels the head of
Gyuvin’s cock catch against his hole and wants to pass out.

“You feel amazing,” Gyuvin says, continuing to slide his cock against Ricky.

If someone saw them now, they’d fully think he and Gyuvin were actually fucking, full-on
penis-in-hole action.

This kind of thing is new to both of them and it doesn’t take long before Ricky spurts white
all over his hand, pumping himself as Gyuvin rocks against him. He can feel his hole
clenching reflexively as Gyuvin glides against it.

God, he really wants Gyuvin to fuck him, for real. He wants to feel Gyuvin inside of him.

A few more thrusts later, Gyuvin comes too, all over his ass.

The water has managed to stay hot throughout their shenanigans. They finish the rest of the
shower in silence, washing up properly before stepping out in their bathrooms.

“Scroll on our phones in bed?” Gyuvin suggests, once they’ve changed into their pyjamas.

Ricky nods. Fucking hell, is it going to be like this for the rest of the trip? He’s not sure if
he’s going to survive it.

Chapter End Notes

OK so the aeroplane sex wasnt originally in the plan, but as you can see Ricky got
bored, so here we are lol.
thanks for reading!
 Uncivil Unrest
Chapter Summary

First day in Portugal (O-O)!

Chapter Notes

exams are over...ik last update was 20th jan...my bad...but this chapter ended up long as
fuck so there's that i guess...

we are reaching the end too, folks. im excited.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Once Ricky’s finished updating his story and deciding which photos are going to Instagram,
he puts his phone away to charge for the night. He’s also created a private folder reserved just
for photos of him and Gyuvin on this trip that no one else gets to see.

For example, the blurred selfie of them in bed that Gyuvin had just snapped, making peace
signs at the camera. Then he brings the phone closer and kisses Ricky on the cheek, startling
him terribly. This too is captured on his phone and he refuses to send Ricky the photo.

“Just for me,” Gyuvin smugly sing-songs. Ricky’s too tired to do anything about it and just
decides to burrow under the covers and try to sleep.

They have a grand king-sized bed that is big enough for each of them to stretch out on and
even possibly fit another person on, but they end up shoulder to shoulder regardless.

Ricky wakes up to the sound of his phone alarm buzzing and habitually rolls to the right to
silence it, only grasp thin air. He blearily widens his eyes a slither and locates the source of
the sound more by instinct than sight.

“Why’d you set that bloody thing?” Gyuvin groans.

It takes a second after Ricky opens his eyes and stares at the crystal chandelier dangling from
the high domed ceiling to remember that he’s not at home. He’s in Lisbon, with his not-
boyfriend Gyuvin.

“Damn.”
He turns over to face Gyuvin, only to see he’s already watching Ricky with sleep-crusted
eyes. He puckers his lips at Ricky.

“NO.” Ricky croaks, mouth dry as a desert.

Now he remembers why he set that alarm at the buttcrack of dawn. They have to leave the
hotel by nine so they can catch the train to the tour booked for them in that other city, Sintra
or something.

Regardless, Gyuvin tries to plant one on Ricky, who tries to wriggle away. It’s a fruitless
attempt as Gyuvin pulls Ricky against him, so he can successfully press their lips together.

Ricky can feel the heat pooling in his cheeks already even though he’s got sleep-crusted eyes,
a dry tongue and morning breath.

“I’m going to the toilet,” Ricky says, throwing the duvet off and climbing to his feet.
Goddamn, it’s only seven and he’s already flustered by Gyuvin. And he’s completely naked
from last night.

“I hate to watch you leave, but I love to watch you go!” Gyuvin says dreamily as Ricky
walks across the room. “Slow it down…make it bouncy!”

“Don’t objectify me before breakfast!” Ricky calls, without bothering to look back.

Half an hour later, they’re dressed and ready to head down for breakfast. The hot weather has
Gyuvin in ripped jean shorts and a t-shirt, with a sunhat drowning out his face, covering his
eyes. There’s something very…doggish about it.

Especially when Gyuvin tugs on Ricky’s arm when they walk the wrong way to hotel
restaurant and whines at him about it. It’s not Ricky’s fault this hotel is a massive maze of
marble and granite. He has to massively resist the urge to call him a ‘good boy’.

Ricky’s got a silky white top on, enough to deflect the sun and to keep himself cool. They get
a table for two outside on the patio and both get coffee, which arrives in ornate teapots and is
accompanied by miniature jugs of milk.

The buffet selection isn’t huge, but everything on it looks good. Breakfast pastries, along
with pastel de nata, fresh fruit along with sausages, eggs, bacon and tomatoes. There’s
yoghurt and cereal on the side, along with cold cuts of thinly sliced ham, smoked salmon and
a variety of cheeses.

The two of them pile their plates high with food and return to their table, Gyuvin with his
hands full, one plate stacked high with all the cakes and pastries they haven’t tried before and
the other loaded with cooked meat.
“Protein.” Gyuvin says, through a large mouthful of scrambled eggs.

It’s a perfect start to the morning, full of holiday vibes. It feels like a real holiday, you know?
As if they’re going on some big adventure into the unknown.

They take the taxi to the station and board the train and Ricky marvels at the sight of Lisbon
during the day. It’s so very different to Asia, both Korea and China, yet some parts that he
glimpses suddenly takes him back. Gyuvin is snapping photos and keeps wowing and oohing.
The driver is friendly too, asking where they’re from and where they’re going. They make
some small talk on the way and then manage to buy train tickets and locate their platform on
time.

“So, what are we actually doing there?” Ricky asks after a moment. He had read as far as the
travel route so they didn’t fuck up and miss the tour, but beyond that he’d left it to Gyuvin.

“Um, I have no idea. I just looked at where we need to go once we get off the train, and how
to get back home,” Gyuvin says, scratching his head sheepishly. “Wait, did you want me to?”

Ricky shrugs.

“I was just wondering.”

“I guess it can be a surprise,” Gyuvin resumes looking out the window. The view is alright,
but nothing breathtaking. Fields and buildings and stuff. Nevertheless, Ricky tries to catch a
few shots. All of this is going on his Instagram story. “The tour guide-y people would be
telling us about it too. Anyway, Ricky. Pose.”

Ricky only has a split second to prepare his usual rizz face for the camera but manages to
gaze coolly into the lens of Gyuvin’s phone. It’s not that difficult, it’s his default expression.

“No!” Gyuvin cries, glaring at him. “Stop making that face!”

“That is quite literally my face,” Ricky says, rolling his eyes. “What do you want me to do
about it?”

Gyuvin looks like he’s on the brink of exploding, eyebrows raised in affront and mouth
already open to protest.

“No, that’s your usual camera face!” Gyuvin launches into a tirade, one that is worn thin from
how many times Ricky’s heard him run through it. “You see, normally when we’re together
you just look all cute and soft, but when we take pictures, you turn into Mr Young-and-Rich-
Tall-and-Handsome and I can only ever get a picture of you smiling if it’s candid! I want to
see the other side of you in photos for this trip! And only I get to see them.”

Gyuvin pouts dramatically then starts up again before Ricky can even begin to think of a
rebuttal.

“You might think you’re so cool but ninety percent of the time, you are just a cutie!” Gyuvin
exclaims. “And god help me if you try to look like anything but a cutie!”
“Um…well…” Ricky blinks in an effort to process all of this. “I, well. I’m flattered you think
I’m so cute, but I can’t really think of what to say. That I haven’t already said the first
hundred times you mentioned this.”

The spinning brainrot cat meme part of his brain is just jumping up and down saying
‘Yippee! Yippee!’ because Gyuvin thinks he’s cute. Like duh, of course he does, Ricky
already knew that. Gyuvin says it about five times a day about him. It’s not a big deal. Yet
Ricky’s blushing like an idiot.

“Just try to smile in more pictures!” Gyuvin says, brandishing his phone. “Take two.”

Ricky sighs. He tries to pull his face into a convincing smile this time, and tugs the corners of
his lips unnaturally high, baring his teeth. Gyuvin recoils into his seat.

“I didn’t say try to recreate the clown smiling from It!”

“HEY!” Ricky barks, shooting laser eyes at him. “I’m trying to smile!”

Ricky tries a different kind of smile, trying not to show his teeth as sinisterly but Gyuvin still
makes a face.

“Sue me, I’m not good at these fake-ass photo smiles!” Ricky hisses at him and tries to grab
at Gyuvin’s phone. “Delete it!”

“No!” Gyuvin cries, clutching his phone dearly to his chest and shies away from him. Ricky
claws at his hands, trying to extricate it.

The people sat in the carriage are definitely staring at their back-and-forth with varying
degrees of judgement as Ricky tries to swipe his phone.

Oh god. A bead of sweat rolls down Ricky’s forehead. They’re not one of those tourists are
they? The rowdy obnoxious ones.

“Whatever,” Ricky hastily offers, sitting back down before they truly make a scene. “Submit
it for a casting call if they ever make a third It film then. I don’t care.”

Instead he opts for the silent sulk, turning away from Gyuvin and staring out the window.
He’s not mad in the slightest, but it’s so much funnier to pretend he is.

Predictably as always, Gyuvin panics. He looks genuinely troubled by the gesture.

“No, Ricky, I didn’t mean it,” he wheedles then cups a palm over Ricky’s cheek, trying to get
him to turn to face him. “You look amazing, baby.”

Ricky’s heart jumps immediately and he can feel himself melting, but he can’t give in that
easily. What on earth does that make him?

A whipped fool. They say Cupid is blind. And dumb and deaf and stupid.
There may be also a part of him that is enjoying Gyuvin’s pain. He can practically see the
cogs turning in his head as he tries to think of a way to pacify Ricky.

“There’s nothing wrong with not being able to force smiles for photos,” Gyuvin attempts,
reaching out to lace his fingers through Ricky’s. “I’ll just have to make you laugh lots and
lots, so I can snap lots more smiling photos of you.”

The train rattles along the tracks as Ricky acquiesces and leans into Gyuvin’s space.

“Just messing with you,” Ricky admits, unable to stop the satisfied smile spreading across his
face at Gyuvin’s words.

“There it is!” Gyuvin exclaims and whips his phone out in a flash. “Beautiful.”

People shuffle around them in the carriage, getting on and off, while the two of them stay in
their own little world, right until the train stops off at Sintra.

The minute they exit through the station doors, they’re bombarded by hustlers who are
specifically targeting tourists to try to offer lifts and tours through Sintra. Ricky has to tell
several of them firmly that they already have something arranged as they trudge along
through the thicket of people.

Gyuvin scrolls through the emails they were sent for the holiday, until he finds whatever day
trip tour package they’re meant to be on.

“Over there,” he says, pointing at a small coach in the distance where a tour guides in
eyewatering orange polo shirts are waving flags. “That’s the one for us. Leaves in ten
minutes.”

As they get closer, Ricky astutely observes that the tour guides are in fact East Asian. The
tour guides give them a welcoming smile and once they confirm their tickets, ask them to hop
on board in accented English. Ricky climbs up the steps and nods his head in greeting to the
driver then falters at the sight before him.

All he can see is permed white hair and the smell of flowery perfume saturates his nostrils.
There are grandmas everywhere, staring at the two of them with inquisitive eyes. Alright, it’s
a slight overexaggeration. Ricky thinks he can see a few middle-aged women who haven’t
quite hit senior citizen status yet.

“Is this really the right one?” Ricky whispers to Gyuvin. “Why are we part of an Asian
pensioner group?”

“Man, don’t ask me,” Gyuvin whisper-replies. “I didn’t book the damn thing.”
The ladies break out into chatter as Ricky and Gyuvin settle into one of the remaining seats at
the front and Ricky realises absently that he can actually understand what they’re saying.

Not only are they grandmas, they’re Chinese grandmas. His suspicion only increases tenfold.

“Let me see those tickets,” Ricky says, snatching Gyuvin’s phone from him. “This is a
Chinese-based tour company. I’m, like, almost certain it’s all going to be Chinese.”

“Is that bad?” Gyuvin asks him, hoisting the rucksack off his back to rummage inside for his
water bottle.

“No, it’s fine,” Ricky says, shrugging his shoulders. “I just didn’t think it would be Chinese.”

Shortly after they’ve sat down, a few more people come in – noticeably all women and the
door to the coach slides shut.

A lady in the opposite row leans towards them curiously.

“You…not Chinese?” she asks, with raised eyebrows. Gyuvin shrugs his shoulders.

“No…I’m Korean,” he says. “But uh… nǐ hǎo, wǒ jiào Gyuvin.”

The old ladies all watch with renewed interest.

“Ah!” The first old lady says, looking delighted. She claps her hands together. “You can
speak Chinese?”

“He can speak some Chinese,” Ricky says in Chinese as well. “He learnt it from me. I’m
from Shanghai.”

It’s just what he’d expected from well-meaning old ladies.

“You two boys are so handsome!”

“Are you in university? What are you studying?”

“How old are you?”

And after the tour guides finish their introduction of the day (also in Chinese, so Ricky
translates for Gyuvin), ulterior motives finally start floating to the surface.

“Are you single? Do you have a girlfriend? Look at my granddaughter! Are you interested?”

Gyuvin can’t understand everything, but it’s easy enough to pick up on cues and judge the
tones of their voices – and how they’re clearly all holding back the urge to pinch them on the
cheeks and coo.

The photographs of young women in their twenties being proffered their way on smartphone
screens are also more than enough for Gyuvin to deduce the general gist of things.

“No!” Gyuvin says in choppy Chinese. “No thank you. Me and him. I love him.”
“Oh!” A collective round of gasps go around them. “Oh.”

“Ah…you are gays?” Someone finally says out loud. “Boyfriends?”

“We’re dating, yes,” Ricky confirms to the old ladies, with a sinking stomach. He swears to
God, if they dare make any trouble about it. He has connections, OK and he’s not afraid to
threaten them. Because Gyuvin is the most specialest boy ever and if they make him feel sad
or uncomfortable, then Ricky will blow up the entire coach and fill the air with the smell of
sizzled hair, grandmas or not.

He gives them a dead-eyed stare, with a raised eyebrow.

“You got a problem?” Ricky says in a neutral, pleasant tone. “We’re on a romantic couple
holiday together and if any of you have a problem with it, I really don’t care. I’ll even pay
you to live with the discomfort for today.”

He beams at them, his demeanour totally incongruent with his words.

“Wait, what are you saying?” Gyuvin says, quirking his head at him.

“Just explaining how we won this trip,” Ricky says with a shrug.

“Oh, alright,” Gyuvin says cluelessly with a sappy smile. “I might nap, Rwik. I feel a bit
sick.” Ricky gives him a gentle glance and swipes his hand over Gyuvin’s knuckles.

“You want painkillers?”

Gyuvin shakes his hands and relaxes back into his seat, closing his eyes.

“Now he’s carsick,” Ricky says to them. “Don’t you dare make him feel worse.”

“Oh, I’m too old to care about all that,” one of the ladies says with a scoff. “None of us do,
right everyone?”

There are a few reluctant nods but eventually they all do nod, much to Ricky’s relief.

“You think I’ve never fooled around before?” one of them even says.

“My only question is though…” The others grandmas look at this lady sharply, shaking their
heads in warning, but she ploughs ahead regardless. “Is it tough dating as a Korean-Chinese
couple? Surely there must be cultural differences?”

Ricky engages them in conversation for the rest of the journey to Palacio de Pena, explaining
his life. It’s heartwarming in fact to be able to converse in his first language.

The weather is idyllic, boundless blue skies and not a single cloud in sight, meaning the
views from the famed mountain top castle are going to be gorgeous. The travel really could
have done better to match the perfect holiday aesthetics that nature had going.
Instead, as soon as the coach puffs its way out of the station, the speed quickly trickles down
to a slow crawl. It’s probably the contributing factor to why Gyuvin feels sick, all the
constant changes in velocity and momentum, the accelerations and decelerations are enough
to make anyone dizzy.

In fact, Gyuvin isn’t the only one who’s starting to feel under the weather, no pun intended.
The coach snakes through narrow roads and rumbles over uneven cobblestone, setting
Ricky’s teeth on edge. It seems as if everyone and their dog is going to the palace.

As old ladies do, they have all sorts of homemade travel remedies that start to get passed
around the coach, as if this is some kind of homeopathic market.

Ricky has his own solution too – if sucking mints counts. Gyuvin gets plied with various
salves and balms in the process, which he accepts up to a certain point before he makes an
apologetic gesture to the ladies.

He takes a glance at Gyuvin, only to discover that he has fallen asleep, mouth hanging open
as he dreams of chasing sheep or something.

When they finally pull into the hilly carpark about two hundred years later, Ricky has never
been gladder to breathe fresh air and stand steady on his own two feet again. The worst part is
that they’re not even at the destination yet, there’s still a twenty-minute uphill walk.

“God, this better be the best damn castle I’ve ever seen,” Ricky grumbles under his breath as
they start the ascent.

Well, he may be exaggerating. If a bunch of old ladies can make it, he definitely can.

Minutes later, Ricky is eating his words. Him and Gyuvin are hunched the fuck over as they
leg it up the hill. Meanwhile, the pack of old ladies have left them in the dust.

“What the hell powers them?” Gyuvin groans.

As the castle comes into view, Ricky grudgingly admits that it’s pretty cool. He wouldn’t say
it was stunning enough to completely take his breath away, but it’s still a grandiose structure.
They pass through a faded stone arch, mossy with age. The front of the castle is teeming with
visitors.

The castle itself must have been restored or is very well-preserved, as in stark contrast, it
remains a vibrant mustard yellow, with red and grey coating the other parts of the structure.

Ricky tries his best to listen to what the tour guide is saying and translate it to Gyuvin, but
some of the historical and architectural vocabulary is beyond what he knows in Korean, so
what he conveys may be a little patchy.

“Alright, we’ll leave you two hours to explore the palace before we all meet back down in the
carpark for the next place. There’s a restaurant and café if you would like to have food but be
aware it’s pretty crowded, so try to make good use of your time!”
It is obscenely crowded as Ricky and Gyuvin try to navigate their way around and find a spot
they can stand and watch the world go by. It’s as expected of going to a popular tourist
destination on the weekend. but that doesn’t make the view any less breathtaking. Gyuvin is
similarly amazed.

“Is all of Europe like this?” he asks Ricky.

“I dunno, it really depends,” Ricky replies. “Some foreigners probably think that China,
Japan and Korea are quite similar so while Europe might seem similar to us, there’ll
definitely be some individuality that we might not see.”

They have a look around the perimeter of the castle, following a walking path that forces
them to move in a slow, single-file line, made even slower by everyone stopping to pose and
take photos.

Ricky catches Gyuvin by surprise by suggesting they ask someone to take a photo of the two
of them together before he does.

“I thought you’d never ask!” Gyuvin exclaims, looking as bright and sunny as the harsh rays
beaming down on them. It’s literally so fucking hot right now, especially as it creeps towards
noon and the sun surges higher into the sky.

Ricky thanks his make-up for staying pristine and wipes the sweat from his forehead with a
sigh.

They bump into the senior entourage a few minutes later and they’re only too pleased to be
photographers for their handsome young subjects. Heck, they’re positioning Ricky and
Gyuvin like they’re professional photographers, and commanding them to change their
expressions, tilt their heads a little to the left, and scowling at people so they stop walking in
front of the camera and blocking the way. All in all, they’re a formidable team.

They’ve got the two of them holding hands, hugging, and even trying to pressure them to
kiss, but locking lips in front of dozens of strangers is too much for them.

“Which actually makes no sense considering everything we did for that contest,” Gyuvin
says. “I wonder why it feels different.”

Ricky thinks he knows why but is afraid it will break the magical spell if he says so. The
contest was all for show, a performance. If they pretend to be a couple here when no one is
going to catch them out, who are they doing it for? And that remains the elephant in the
room.

Gyuvin must catch on though, because he lets the words trail into silence without looking to
Ricky for an answer. Ricky wishes he could peek into his head to see exactly what kind of
mental gymnastics are going on inside to justify the fact they’re holding hands right now.

They’ve gathered up to join the queue to have a quick look around the interior of the palace
before they have to go to the next location. The ticket person scans their passes and the two
of them wander through the many grandly furnished 19th-century rooms.
“I wouldn’t want my house to be like this though,” Ricky decides. “It’s too busy. But the art
is nice.” He snaps a few pics that could perhaps be useful for what he’s working on back at
school.

“It’s more cluttered than our hotel room,” Gyuvin agrees. “I think it’s beautiful, but I’d be
stressed out trying not to destroy all the centuries-old priceless antiques.”

“Better to put it on show,” Ricky replies.

There’s such a high flow of people that they’re swept along by the wave, so Ricky doesn’t get
to look that long at each room, which is kinda annoying. But they also don’t have much time
left when they’re done with the interior anyway.

“Is there anything else you want to see before we walk down through the foresty part?” Ricky
asks Gyuvin. “I think we’ve seen it all.”

Gyuvin makes a face.

“Well, actually…” He says. “I saw there was some log chateau thing on a sign when we were
hiking through the forest. Can we go check it out?”

“Why not?”

Famous last words. As they amble down the path to the carpark, Gyuvin points out the little
chateau sign that deviates from the main path. The dense forest gives them a welcome break
from the sun though and casts a murky green light on everything. It’s also far cooler and
refreshing.

But ten minutes later, they’re still seeing signposts towards this chateau. They’ve only
wandered deeper into this massive forest and Ricky’s danger radar is blipping.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Ricky says. “Like, how far away is this damn
place?”

Gyuvin pushes his hair back to wipe the sweat from his forehead and shrugs at Ricky.

“I don’t know…?”

Ricky grimaces at him, then pulls out his phone.

“What do you mean it’s still a fifteen-minute walk!” Ricky cries, glaring at Google Maps.
“No fucking way, we’re going back.”

“We might as well just go though.” Gyuvin wheedles, clasping his palms together to beg
Ricky. “C’mon, we’re already over halfway there.”

Ricky doesn’t know. The dirt trails look endless to him. And he’s not going to speak up about
it, but he can feel his shoe starting to rub at his heel.
“Do you really want to see this damn building so badly?” Ricky says with a sigh. “It can’t be
that good?”

Like, why are they the only people walking in this area? If it was so beautiful, then the path
should be flooded with tourists.

Gyuvin looks away sheepishly.

“Uh, I guess I also liked just being alone with you,” he says, turning a delicate shade of pink.

Ricky fumes internally. This freaking guy! He can’t even be annoyed because of how hard his
heart is beating at Gyuvin’s words.

“We’ve been alone with each other all evening and…” Ricky purses his lips. “All night and
all morning. Hasn’t that been enough for you?”

And even if they were people around, they’ve still been side by side the entire day. But Ricky
supposes they haven’t really touched each other at all, not since last night.

The bead of sweat rolling down Gyuvin’s neck suddenly makes him gulp. Without realising,
they’ve stepped closer, hidden from view by tree branches in a small clearing.

“How could it be enough?” Gyuvin mumbles, ears just as pink as his cheeks. “I mean, just
look at you.”

Ah, fuck.

Ricky doesn’t know who leans in first, but they meet halfway, teeth clacking together with
their combined force. Gyuvin can’t just say things like that and expect Ricky to still see him
as fucking friend afterwards.

They literally were going at it last night, so why is Ricky kissing him so desperately, chasing
Gyuvin’s lips as if he can’t get enough?

It’s just a little kissing too, but he can feel the blood rushing down south already. And so can
Gyuvin apparently, when Ricky closes his hand over not-so-little Gyuvin.

“Ricky!” Gyuvin hisses, looking scandalised. He pulls away from Ricky, with shiny lips and
a starry look in his eyes. “What are you doing? You can’t right now – not right here! We’re-
we’re in public?”

In response, Ricky grips Gyuvin’s junk even harder and watches as Gyuvin bites his lip and
lets out a whimper.

“No one’s walked down this path for the last five minutes.” Ricky says. It must be the effects
of European air or the heat today that’s making him do this.

Or it’s the irresistible urge to defile Gyuvin, who is both scared and horny, nervously
scanning their surroundings, while his dick throbs in his shorts. Ricky spits on his hand, then
slides his hands down Gyuvin’s underwear.
“Isn’t this a historical site?” Gyuvin mutters into Ricky’s neck. He’s leaning a lot of weight
onto Ricky in fact, curling in on himself as Ricky jerks him off with fast, rough strokes.

“Well I can stop if you’re so afraid of desecrating it,” Ricky says, sliding his thumb back and
forth over Gyuvin’s slit. Gyuvin lets out a guttural groan in response, grabbing onto Ricky’s
shoulder for support.

“No, don’t!” Gyuvin gasps, shuddering into Ricky’s palm. “Nngh, Rik, I’m close.”

“Yeah?” Ricky says. “Even though we’re right out in public? Where anyone could see you
blow your load?”

“Stop it,” Gyuvin moans, as Ricky quickens his pace. “This is all your fault.”

Now that literally isn’t true. Gyuvin is way stronger than him. If he really wanted, he could
have pushed Ricky off anytime. Gyuvin should get off his high horse and stop pretending to
be so innocent.

“Maybe I don’t mind,” Ricky finds himself saying. “Because even if everyone sees you like
this, they’d know it’s only for me. Because of me. Is that right, Gyuvin?”

“No, they can’t see,” Gyuvin gasps. He reaches up to tr y and cover his mouth. “Nah, no,
that’s, ha, embarrassing.”

“What, if they knew that you’re all mine?” Ricky says feverishly, the words spilling from him
thoughtlessly. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying exactly but he feels so powerful,
standing here in the woods, with Gyuvin barely able to string words together simply because
Ricky’s got a hand on his dick. “That I’m the only one who can touch you, the only one you
look at, the only one who can have you like this. No one else, because you fucking belong to
me, Kim Gyuvin.”

Gyuvin comes so loudly that a group of birds take flight when he lets out a trembling moan
and comes into Ricky’s hand.

“Whaddafuck,” Gyuvin babbles, resting his forehead on Ricky’s shoulder. “You’re crazy,
Ricky. I can’t believe you just jerked me off in the middle of a forest in Portugal.”

Ricky can’t quite either. Even if he’s still bricked up in his own trousers, the post-nut clarity
is hitting him too. He can’t believe he said a load of such cringy shit in the heat of the
moment.

You fucking belong to me, Kim Gyuvin.

Ricky lets out a shudder of second-hand embarrassment. What trashy alpha male romance
line is that?

Gyuvin must mistake his silence for something completely different because he abruptly
leans in to give Ricky a quick peck.
“You want me to return the favour?” Gyuvin says, with huge, round eyes. “I mean, I don’t
mind.”

“No, it’s okay,” Ricky says quickly. His mind is distracted by other things, namely how much
of his horny speak Gyuvin had actually been processing. Hopefully not much. “I don’t think
we have time.”

“Aw, but I feel bad,” Gyuvin says, gesturing to Ricky’s crotch.

“You can make it up to me later,” Ricky says, then realises his hand is still covered in come.
He’s about to rummage through his bag for a tissue, when Gyuvin catches Ricky by the wrist.

“Allow me,” Gyuvin says and his tongue skates over Ricky’s palm, cleaning it off. It’s
disgusting kinda, because Gyuvin’s eating his own come off Ricky, yet it’s so damn hot of
him.

Gyuvin takes each of Ricky’s fingers in his mouth, till he reaches the knuckle, until Ricky’s
hand is just wet with saliva.

Ricky still needs a wet wipe in the end, so Gyuvin hadn’t actually been that helpful with
cleaning. The intended effect had still been achieved however, because Ricky spends the
entire walk back trying to calm his raging boner.

They arrive back at the coach a minute late, dripping in sweat from running back through the
forest. The chateau sadly remains a mystery, but you know what, Ricky reckons the new
memory they just made in Portugal was worth it.

“How was it, everyone?” the tour guides ask and that launches the old ladies into a frenzied
discussion.

Gyuvin and Ricky mostly keep to themselves on the twenty-minute drive to the next
destination – the Moorish castle. The tour guide talks about the history behind it, which
Ricky explains as best as he can to Gyuvin. Essentially, this castle is a bit older and run
down, more of a ruin than a usable standing building.

Similarly to the palace earlier, there’s a short walk from the attraction’s entrance to the castle
itself. When they get past the ticket office, Gyuvin ominously turns to face Ricky.

“You wanna race?” Gyuvin suddenly says with a mischievous grin.

“In this weather?” Ricky says incredulously, then puts his game face on. “You bet I do.”

What can he say, a race is a race.

“Loser pays for lunch!” Gyuvin yells as they suddenly both scramble forwards down the
footpath.

“Boys,” Ricky hears the rest of the tour group mutter as they take off.
This castle isn’t as crowded, so they’re not really causing that much chaos as they thread
through the tourists, who look at them like they’re insane.

Ricky finds himself blocked by a couple of slow walkers and curses under his breath as
Gyuvin gains on him, speeding ahead by a few metres.

Fuck, he’s actually getting tired as well. He’s not exactly dressed for exercise and Gyuvin is
wearing shorts, which is a clear advantage.

Ricky resumes a walking pace and watches Gyuvin’s little head bob up and down along the
rest of the path, not even looking back once to check where Ricky is.

When Gyuvin finally reaches the castle gate, he looks behind him then makes an adorably
confused expression as he doesn’t see Ricky anywhere near him.

Ricky bursts out laughing.

“Hey!” Gyuvin squawks as Ricky comes into view. “Why did you stop?”

“Because it was funnier to watch you run by yourself,” Ricky says and snorts into his hand.

Gyuvin glares at him, but there’s no heat behind it. He grabs Ricky’s hand silently and they
walk through the gate together.

“We should not have ran,” Gyuvin says in dismay, staring at the ruins of the castle, which
consists of steep, uneven wedges of rock masquerading as stairs, leading upwards along the
wall of the castle.

“Looks like I’m just a genius,” Ricky shrugs, dusting off the non-existent sweat on his
forehead. Gyuvin’s face is still red and glistening with exertion. “Maybe we should race to
the top of this one as well.”

“Shut it.”

They walk around for a bit and take in the views, snap some photos and that’s all there is to it
really. They regroup and have lunch in the centre of Sintra – octopus and clams, then have
time for a quick walk around the shops. Ricky picks up a few gifts and souvenirs to take back
home and forces Gyuvin to carry the bags, just because he can.

While they’re browsing the shops, Ricky is looking at the jewellery when he gets a call from
Gunwook. Gyuvin is flipping through some posters, looking engrossed, so Ricky steps
outside to take it without interrupting him.

“Ola,” Ricky says.

“What?”

“Hello in Portuguese, dude.”

“Oh right.” He can literally envision hear Gunwook shaking his head in exasperation.
“What’s up?” Ricky says. “We’re in Sintra right now. If you’ve been checking my story.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gunwook says. “Are you alone?”

“What now?” Ricky says with a sigh. “What’s this about?”

“You and Gyuvin, obviously!” Gunwook says. “Has anything happened? Have you confessed
to each other? Are you becoming a real couple? Did Gyuvin talk to you about something?”

“Slow down buddy, one question at a time,” Ricky sighs and scrolls through the questions
Gunwook had just dropped. What had happened? More sex. Had they confessed, like, for
real? Absolutely not. Are they a real couple? He wishes. Had Gyuvin…spoken to him about
something?

“What would Gyuvin be speaking to me about?” Ricky asks suspiciously. “This has your
work written all over it. What have you done?”

“Ha…haha…” Gunwook laughs sheepishly. “But honestly Ricky, it’s now or never. Isn’t this
the best place to get honest with each other, especially as it’s just going to be the two of you
for the next two days?”

“Yeah but what if it all goes wrong,” Ricky whispers into his phone, looking back over his
shoulder to check that Gyuvin isn’t coming over. “Then this will just become the worst time
of my life and this entire trip and its memories will all be ruined. Aren’t you a bit too
optimistic, Gunwook?”

“Look Ricky,” Gunwook says. “I am too invested in you guys for this not to work out. Ugh,
don’t think of it as something selfless on my part. I know you won’t believe me, but you’re
both in love with each other and would be a great couple. If you don’t act on this soon, things
are gonna get ugly no matter what. And it would really suck if you two ended up not talking
as my best friends. So it’s really in my own self-interest.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Ricky replies dryly. He doesn’t know why Gunwook’s
chosen to act like a tsundere now of all times. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten. What the hell
has this got to do with Gyuvin telling me something?”

Ricky has a sudden flashback to the jittery frightened creature Gyuvin became hours before
their flight to Portugal. Gunwook had said something to him back then. He’d promised it
wasn’t about Ricky’s feelings, but whatever it was had still left Gyuvin severely spooked.

“Is this something you told him the reason why he was acting so weird at the time?” Ricky
exclaims into the phone. Irritation streaks through him. Even if Gunwook’s intentions are
good, is it not Ricky’s choice to choose what ends up happening? He’d like to be in control
for once, thank you very much.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe you should stop meddling!” Ricky snaps into the phone, suddenly angry. He’s
surprised at himself too. Outbursts are not like him. “I know you like to be the mastermind
and evil genius all the time, but-but this isn’t just a game, Gunwook. This is real life – my life
that you’re messing with, you know?”

“Whoa, Ricky, this isn’t a joke to me,” Gunwook interrupts, a panicked cadence evident in
his tone. “I’m dead serious about this too. This isn’t about me being right, you have to
believe me.”

Some of Ricky’s ire flickers out, but he still feels unsettled.

“Well, maybe you should just let things play out,” Ricky says churlishly. “If it goes wrong, it
is what it is. Did you also call Gyuvin too, to have a pep talk with him?”

“Caught me red-handed,” Gunwook admits. “C’mon Ricky, I promise you it’s nothing crazy
that I did. But promise me you’re not going to push the subject with Gyuvin. If he brings it
up, it needs to be on his own terms.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?” Ricky demands in frustration. “It’s about me, isn’t it? Don’t I
have a right to know what’s going on?”

“I have to respect Gyuvin’s privacy too,” Gunwook says apologetically. “Look, I just
reminded him of a conversation we had long ago. That’s all.”

But whatever the contents of said conversation were must have been earth-shattering.
However, Gunwook’s clearly not divulging anything, so it’s pointless to press further.

“I’m still mad at you,” Ricky says, but he’s already slightly regretting his outburst from
earlier. “I swear, if you’re the reason why things get fucked up…” He’s already doing a pretty
good job himself by pretending things are okay, but it won’t hurt to scare Gunwook a little.

“Just believe in all of us,” Gunwook says with finality. “Yourself, me and Gyuvin. Because
that’s all I’m holding onto right now.”

There’s a beep as he hangs up, leaving Ricky dumbfounded.

Gyuvin’s also coming out the store now, head snapping side to side as he looks for Ricky.

Ricky really wants to get him to spill the details. He has to physically bite his tongue when
Gyuvin makes a beeline towards him and holds his hand, linking their fingers.

Once again, Ricky’s having a ‘what-the-fuck-are-we-doing’ moment. He shakes his head

physically, as if he can really unjumble the messy thoughts inside, then leans his head on
Gyuvin’s shoulder. It’s time to go back to pretending. They’re dating. This is their romantic
holiday.

He pecks Gyuvin on the cheek.

“Did you miss me?”

“I was away from you for five minutes, bro,” Gyuvin retorts but his expression softens,
nonetheless. “Of course I did.”
The final stop before they go home is Quinta da Regaleira, another palace. Luckily, the
palace isn’t the only interesting thing about the area. Ricky’s actually read up on this one
before coming. The area surrounding the palace is now a huge park that has lakes, grottoes,
wells and fountains to walk around there too. Maybe he can incorporate it into his art
somehow.

Ricky spends the next half an hour on the coach sulking about life and trying to dispel his bad
mood before it affects Gyuvin too much, not that he’s hiding much. As fun as it is being just
the two of them, it also means that Gyuvin’s attention is 100% on him, all the time. He has
nowhere to hide, not really.

So Ricky had just put his AirPods in and said told Gyuvin he was going to take a nap on the
way. Here he is now, with his eyes closed, trying not to think about the inevitable.

Maybe Ricky should take a chance and tell him. On the last day of the trip or something. If
everything crashes and burns, they can just ignore each other at the airport and on the way
home on the plane. And if it goes well. Well, sex. Ricky suspects his future will contain a lot
of that.

Well, if it goes bad, Ricky resolves to head into the Itaewon gay clubs and do something
reckless and stupid. Either way, sex will happen.

It’s not a firm ‘no’ on the confession front, more of a lukewarm ‘maybe’. Ricky will think
about it later.

As expected, the next palace is beautiful. Ricky soon forgets his bad mood and perks up as
they stroll through the palace and chapel, marvelling at the Gothic architecture. The gardens
have him geeking out even more, as Monteiro’s belief in primitivism is relayed through the
wildness of the nature. No neatly pruned shrubs and flower patches, just nature left to thrive
and function on its own.

Gyuvin is appreciative of the sights, but not as much as Ricky. He’s forced to listen to Ricky
rattle on about how pretty everything is and is stopped every five metres as Ricky takes yet
another photo.

The wells are his favourite, a spiral staircase that descends into the grounds. The gardens are
fascinating that way actually. There’s a whole bunch of underground tunnels that have several
ways to get inside, through the Labyrinthic grotto, the Eastern grotto, Leda’s cave.

Ricky makes sure to drag Gyuvin through the palace extra fast so they can spend more time
inside them.

It’s getting late now as well, with them having to leave in forty minutes. The palace isn’t
letting anymore people in, so the gardens gets emptier and emptier as the two of them mill
around, occasionally bumping into some old ladies. Most of the people are staying above
ground though. Ricky likes the tunnels though. They’re nice and cool and the columns are
cool to look at.

Within the network of underground tunnels, they stumble on an alcove of rock off to the side
that blocks them from view. Ricky is giggling at his own joke, when Gyuvin takes the map
that he’d taken from the entrance and unfolds it, placing it on the floor.

“What’s that for?” Ricky says, looking at Gyuvin with suspicion.

Gyuvin doesn’t respond, but whistles casually before he kneels down, then looks up at Ricky
expectantly. Then lowers his gaze to stare face-to-face with Ricky’s crotch.

Ricky steps back instinctively, right into the wall of rock behind him. For fuck’s sake. He
probably has a dust cloud settling into his shirt now.

“What are you doing?” Ricky says, voice tight. He can guess the intention, but there’s no
way. Not Gyuvin, who had just been so embarrassed about earlier.

“I said I’d make it up to you later, didn’t I?” Gyuvin says with a shrug. He checks his watch.
“We have just under half an hour before we need to get back to the coach. That should be
enough time, right?”

“Time to do what?” Ricky says, flabbergasted, although Gyuvin can literally see the bulge
forming in his trousers in real-time. “You could barely handle it earlier! And why are you on
your knees?”

“Cos I want you in my mouth,” Gyuvin says, as if it’s straight-forward. “I’m saying I want to
suck your dick in the underground tunnels of the Quinta da Regaleira.”

A wave of horny pulses so powerfully through Ricky at his words that he has to grab onto the
wall behind him for support. Ricky’s dick is clearly visible along his right thigh, even in the
dark.

“I’m thinking you too want your dick sucked in the underground tunnels of the Quinta da R-”

“Alright, shut up!” Ricky hisses, face flaming. It was one thing to be the one giving the
handjob earlier, but truly another thing to be on receiving end. “Fine, just don’t take too
long!”

“That’s your problem, not mine,” Gyuvin says, before he reaches out to unzip the front of
Ricky’s trousers. “LOL, you already have a wet patch.”

“Don’t fucking say ‘LOL’ out loud right when you’re gonna blow me,” Ricky says
indignantly, right as Gyuvin licks a wet stripe along the head of his dick. “Fuck!”

It’s not like Gyuvin has been getting dick-sucking lessons in his spare time (unless he’s lost
his mind, also who the fuck else’s dick would he be sucking-) but for some reason, he’s so
much better than before.
Why’s Ricky the one who’s nervous and has his heart hammering in his chest, while Gyuvin
slobbers over Ricky’s dick like it’s the tastiest thing he’s eaten in Portugal thus far?

It would also be embarrassing for Gyuvin if they were caught, would it not? If anything,
Ricky reckons it would be more embarrassing to be caught on your knees with dick down
your throat versus just having someone sucking on you.

But Gyuvin seems cool as a cucumber, swallowing Ricky down with a suspiciously practiced
ease. Whatever fellatio fellowship Gyuvin had embarked on, Ricky needs to get to the bottom
of it.

Or it could simply be the fact that they’re in an open space, where anyone could walk by and
see what filthy depraved perverts the two of them are. It’s not even like in the forest earlier;
they’re quite literally defiling the gardens here.

Oh well. Ricky squeezes his eyes shut and his hands reach out instinctively for something
other than the wall to hold onto, which happen to be Gyuvin’s hair as his dick is submerged
in the hot, wet cavern of Gyuvin’s mouth.

Gyuvin makes a muffled noise as Ricky’s fingers rake against his scalp and he pulls off Ricky
with an obscene pop to stare at him open-mouthed. Ricky’s dick bounces upwards to poke
him in the forehead. Does Gyuvin like that…? The hair-grabbing?

“Why did you stop?” Ricky groans, tightening his grip on Gyuvin’s hair and tugs lightly,
experimentally.

Gyuvin’s eyes go a little cloudy and his tongue lolls out.

“That’s nice,” Gyuvin rasps with a little shiver and then he’s swallowing Ricky down without
hesitation.

Even in the murky grey gloom down here, Gyuvin is still the prettiest thing Ricky has ever
seen, eyes watering at the corners as he gags down on Ricky.

Ricky’s been testing his hypothesis out too, tugging Gyuvin’s head forwards, forcing him to
take Ricky further down his throat.

It’s a lot louder here though, the sex sounds echoing down the tunnel. Ricky is biting down
hard on his bottom lip trying not to let any sound out.

He’s also trying his absolute hardest not to start thrusting his hips freely and throatfuck the
ever-loving-fuck out of Gyuvin and is tugging at Gyuvin’s hair in warning when the worst-
case scenario happens.

Footsteps echoing down the tunnel and carried voices. Ricky can’t understand what language
it’s in, but they need to stop right now, even if they’re decently hidden.

He tries to push Gyuvin off him, only to find that Gyuvin’s attached his mouth to Ricky’s
cock like he’s been glued onto it.
“Hey, you crazy bastard!” Ricky whispers under his breath, shoving at him. “Can’t you hear
those damn footsteps?”

Unbelievably, Ricky has to admit that his dick has just gotten even harder at the risk.
Goddamn it. Out of all things Ricky thought he would discover on the trip, having an
exhibitionist streak was not one of them.

The voices are getting louder too, and Ricky gives up, powerless to struggle against Gyuvin,
as he holds Ricky in his mouth, staying perfectly still so at least the sloppy wet blowjob
sounds stop echoing down the tunnel.

The universe must be on their side today though, because the footsteps and voices thankfully
start fading away as they turn towards another direction. Ricky lets out the breath that he
didn’t even know he was holding. His knees are starting to ache too, from how tense he had
been for the last minute.

But then Gyuvin starts moving back and forth again and Ricky lets out a warning groan and
then lets loose. Fuckinghellllllllllll is what Ricky thinks for several blissful moments as it
feels like he comes buckets into Gyuvin’s mouth and all over his face.

Into Gyuvin’s mouth. All over his face?

Ricky cracks an eye open and is greeted by the sight of Gyuvin with white streaks decorating
his face. When it had gotten too much to swallow, Gyuvin must have pulled off and the
remaining amount had just landed all over him.

“Fifteen minutes left,” Gyuvin croaks, tapping his watch. A glob of cum drips off his chin
and onto the map on the floor.

“We can’t get come on the floors of these tunnels,” Ricky realises slightly late and staggers
into action, passing around tissues and wet wipes to clean themselves off. “I can’t believe we
just desecrated a historical monument together.”

What’s next? Full-on anal in the middle of the street? In the hotel pool? That sends a
unexpected shiver down Ricky’s spine, on second thoughts. He’s a useless degenerate.

“At least we were together,” Gyuvin says soppily. “Heehee.”

It’s only when they step out into the light that they catch sight of each other and realise that
there’s more to adjust. Gyuvin’s hair currently resembles a bird’s nest and his shirt is askew
on his neck. Ricky’s back is covered in dust.

Yet again, they end up panting and red-faced as they run for the coach, late again. The old
ladies are not impressed.

They take a final photo in front of the castle to commemorate the day trip and then it’s back
to the station. Ricky ends up with a whole new bunch of contacts in his Weibo, the grandmas
all forcing him to promise to visit if he goes back to China and saying they’ll take him out for
dinner.
“Bring your boyfriend too!” One of them hollers as a goodbye. Ricky smiles to himself. It
had been nice to have a slice of home with him.

Then Ricky and Gyuvin clamber onto the train, bearing gifts and souvenirs, completely
exhausted. There had been barely any time to just drift around aimlessly. It had been a tight
schedule, marching from ancient building to ancient building. That and the stress of doing
naughty forbidden things twice in one day had spiked his adrenaline incredibly and worn him
down to the bone.

Ricky was more than ready a for a bed. A grave, a coffin, a hole in the ground. Anything
would do.

They stop off at the first restaurant they see near the station and just have steak and fries. It’s
pretty basic but the two of them are too tired to care. They stumble like zombies through the
reception and down to their rooms.

Ricky had wanted to check out the pool and sauna but finds he wants nothing more than to
close his eyes and check out for today. Gyuvin had said he wanted to see the gym as well but
he’s also barely awake.

They’d been floating in and out of sleep the whole way home on the train as well. Gyuvin
insists on calling a taxi back to the hotel once they’ve finished dinner too, so they get back at
record speed.

“I should shower,” Ricky mumbles as the room door slams behind them. “Brush teeth. Make-
up off.”

Instead he staggers to the bed and flops down on it and shuts his eyes.

“No, babe,” He hears Gyuvin say softly. Arms pull him upwards off the bed and Ricky
frowns in irritation. He’s so warm and cosy on the bed. Who dares to interrupt him.

Gyuvin, apparently.

He coaxes Ricky to the bathroom and thrusts his toothbrush at him, toothpaste already
squeezed on top. They brush their teeth together, although Ricky spends about ten seconds
with the toothbrush simply dangling from his mouth as he stares at his reflection in a daze.

“Hey, get moving, Kim Rik,” Gyuvin chides, giving him a poke.

Ricky thanks the hotel design for giving them two sinks as he spits the foamy toothpaste
slurry out and rinses out his mouth.

Gyuvin is at his side again, this time armed with a cleansing wipe. He sits Ricky down on the
lid of the toilet seat and ever-so-gently, begins to wipe the make-up off Ricky’s face.

“Very nice,” Ricky says blearily. “Good boy…good boy…friend. Good boyfriend.”

Gyuvin lets out an uncharacteristically high-pitched giggle.

“You’re so cute like this.”

“What about shower…” Ricky finds himself saying, weakly gesturing at the showerhead.
“We need. Shower.”

“We can do it tomorrow,” Gyuvin says, and he forces Ricky to rinse his face again before
pulling him back to the bed.

“Where’s your pyjamas?” He hears Gyuvin mutter under his breath, before realising they’re
still in the suitcase because both of them had gone to bed naked on night one.

Ricky doesn’t want to rustle around for clothes right now either. He just starts stripping,
pulling his shirt over his head and chucking it randomly across the room. Unzips his trousers
and kicks them off.

“I guess that’s an option too,” Gyuvin says flatly. Ricky wonders if he’s watching him. Hopes
that he thinks Ricky looks cute and sexy and every positive adjective ever.

He wriggles under the duvet in only his underwear and lets out a sigh of relief as the cool
sheets hit his skin. The lights are still on, but Ricky immediately feels twice as drowsy.

“Gyuvin…” Ricky tries to say, but it comes out slurred and more as ‘Qubing’. Ricky had
thought he’d gotten rid of that habit. “Come…sleep. Bed. Now.” God, he’s been reduced to
monosyllables.

“Coming, my Ricky,” Gyuvin says. There are the distant sounds of clothes rumpling as
Gyuvin either gets changed into pyjamas or strips off – Ricky doesn’t know, he’s half-asleep.
But he registers the mattress dipping as Gyuvin settles under the covers and pulls Ricky close
to him, hugging him to his chest.

“Did you have fun, baby?” Gyuvin says slowly. He sounds like he’s about to fall asleep any
second too.

“Mn,” Ricky attempts, finding that moving his lips have become a highly strenuous action.
“Mm-hmm.”

“Night-night,” Gyuvin says. It feels like an echo. Ricky doesn’t have the energy to respond
and starts to go under. He’s asleep but not quite, letting out an involuntarily little snuffle-
snore noise. “You’re so cute when you’re asleep, Rik. Or is it just because…”

Ricky hears – or rather, perceives Gyuvin swallowing. His limbs are like lead beneath him.
He might imagine it, but Gyuvin’s arms grip him a little tighter. Slightly more warm pressure
against his lower back.

“…I love you…”

What. That’s important, what Gyuvin just said. Very important. Life and death, actually. But
he’s on the brink between consciousness and dreams and Ricky succumbs to sleep.
 His dreams are strangely detailed, oversaturated and lurid with colour. Of course, Gyuvin is
there, he always is, the re-occurring side character, party to his ridiculous adventures. Ricky
realises they’re just fucking on the table at the breakfast buffet. So it’s going to be one of
those dreams then. Well, he’s not complaining in the slightest.

There’s something dancing in the background but it’s just outside of his peripheral vision.
Every time Ricky tries to look at it, it just moves out of the corner of his eye, so he gives up
and switches his focus to the fact that Gyuvin is dining on his ass in front of everyone in the
buffet. Hell yeah. Horny sexscapade dreams are the best. What was that thing he was trying
to remember again?

In the early hours of the morning when Ricky comes too, he’s got morning wood sitting stiff
and heavy against his leg. But erection aside, he feels as if he’s forgotten something really
important. Something he should really remember. But no matter how hard he wracks his
brains and searches through his dreams and thinks back to the previous night, he can’t recall.
Whatever it was, it seems, has been lost forever.

All’s that left is the nagging sensation of wrongness as he rolls over, only to enter dreamland
yet again.

Chapter End Notes

uhh yeah. ricky you idiot. gyuvin, too.

 Melt Inside My Pocket
Chapter Summary

welcome to the longest chapter i have ever written in my life...

Chapter Notes

ok it's been 2 months...but this chapter is massive. i also really wanted it to be something
i'm happy with as it's an important one.

this is now my longest fic EVER which is also insane.

happy reading!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

If yesterday was hot, today is sweltering. Ricky can already feel sweat beading at his temple
just from sitting outside to eat for breakfast. It’s times like this where he really wishes he
could give up on his aesthetic and be all whatever, but the influencer in him insists he at least
keeps presentable and dress well. Even so, he’s still in shorts, a very rare sight indeed.

“I can’t believe you’re exposing your knees to the public,” Gyuvin says in amazement as he
inspects Ricky’s choice of clothes for the day. “I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s
ankle for the first time.”

A bit of an odd remark, all things considering.

“Well, try and control yourself,” Ricky ribs back, feeling a slight flush of heat that has
nothing to do with the weather. “I may even bare a little bit of thigh, if you’re lucky.”

Gyuvin bursts out laughing like Ricky’s said the funniest thing ever.

“Hah! You’re so cute, Ricky!” Gyuvin says, clutching his stomach. “I mean, you’re also
showing your toes for free.”

“So are you?” Ricky points out. “Actually, you’ve been wearing sandals almost this entire
trip, so don’t even start.”

Gyuvin has nice feet actually, Ricky thinks absently then frowns to himself. That’s going too
far. He eyes his own toes and wiggles them in his shoes. His feet are definitely better. If they
were in a foot-pic-selling competition, Ricky is confident he would win.
“My toes are beautiful,” Gyuvin says automatically. “People keep telling me that.”

“They do?!”

Gyuvin shrugs nonchalantly.

“I sometimes get random Instgram DMs asking if I do feet pics.”

“There’s NO way,” Ricky insists. “When do you even show your toes on Instagram? I think
that’s the real issue we need to address.”

“Sometimes I’m wearing slippers in my story?” Gyuvin says tentatively, then squares up.
“Besides, when did it suddenly become non-socially acceptable to show feet? We’re not
actually Victorian.”

“I don’t know,” Ricky sniffs. He watches a fly try to settle onto their shared fruit plate. He
swats lazily at it and it flaps away, only to try and dive-bomb onto the fucking honeydew
immediately. Stupid fucking insect with its psychedelic little bug eyes, rubbing its eyes
smugly as it terrorises them and robs them of the freedom of their peaceful breakfast.

“Why can’t the damn fly go eat somewhere else?” Ricky grumbles, swiping at the air yet
again. His fist frustratingly closes around nothing. Yeah, at this point, he doesn’t even care if
he squishes the fly against his palm and feels its insides explode all over his skin, he just
wants it gone. “Damn five-star hotel but still has flies.”

“Well, in all fairness, we did choose to eat outside,” Gyuvin tries to reason, and he too swipes
his hands together unsuccessfully, resulting in a lone single clap echoing through the patio.
“Maybe we should ask the waiter to do something about it.”

Ricky chews the last piece of smoked salmon on his plate in annoyance.

“What, ask him to stand next to us with a flyswatter?” Ricky considers it for a moment. “But
now that just feels kinda mean.”

“You’re right,” Gyuvin agrees. The fruit plate is also emptied, save for the juice glinting off
the plate. Yet that damn fly swoops low right for the pastel del nata.

“No!” Ricky cries and slaps his hand down – he overshoots and whacks his palm right into
the plate. Egg custard flies everywhere, all over the table and some into his hair. “For
FUCK’s sake!”

Gyuvin looks on at him with a constipated expression, as if he’s about to laugh but knows
very well that he isn’t meant to, if he wants to continue living.

“Heh…hehe…” Gyuvin chuckles uncontrollably, leaning in to flick bits of custard out of

Ricky’s hair. “I’m sorry, Rik, you look so funny right now.”

“Get it out!” Ricky huffs, almost about to put his face in his hands, but thankfully remembers
in time that they’re still covered in the remains of breakfast. “We’re eating inside tomorrow.”
This time they actually need to walk out from the hotel, on the cobblestone that has been
heated so thoroughly by the sun that Ricky swears the air is shimmering above it.

“I reckon we could fry an egg on that pavement,” Gyuvin says, squatting down to poke at the
floor. “God, it’s warm enough to burn skin.”

The back of his neck is glistening with sweat, even with the near-constant buzz of the super
powerful electric fan Gyuvin had packed. Ricky just knows he’s going to feel his shirt get
stuck to his back as the day progresses. The sun isn’t even all the way up in the sky, so it’s
only going to get hotter.

Despite that, his fingers are still curled around Gyuvin’s, even if their palms are both damp
with sweat.

They’re just exploring their way through the today, so it’s far more laidback than yesterday,
without any time constraints on when and where they need to go. The streets roll past him
and Gyuvin as they sit together in the mustard yellow vintage tram, and Ricky takes in all the
sights and sensations, looking from shopfront to shopfront, looking upwards to the Juliet
balconies, catching glimpses into the lives of ordinary people as their windows flash past.

They stay in a comfortable silence for the ride, absorbing the view until the tram climbs its
way up the slope, finally juddering to a halt.

Ricky and Gyuvin make their way to the railing, thankfully under the shade of a tree and
stare down at the city of Lisbon, transformed vibrant as it soaks up the sun, a glow cast onto
the terracotta roof tiles, and white walls so blindingly bright Ricky pulls his sunglasses over
his face, offset by the brilliant blue sky draped behind it all.

There’s something indescribably tranquil about standing still and watching the city bustle
with life below them, as the subtlest of breezes ripple past, only enough to barely lift the
fronds of hair on the back of his neck. Nevertheless, it’s a small comfort.

It makes Ricky feel how small his existence is all of a sudden – how in this country, he is just
another tourist, a single person standing and appreciating a view that is most likely mundane
to those who live and breathe here. There will be no record of this later, except within his
memories.

Photographs and videos are not enough to capture the moment, and all he can do is hope that
his eyes capture the sight and his heart captures the feelings it evokes, and that his mind
remembers it all. He is naught but a man, standing still and watching life go by.

But Gyuvin is right here beside him, sharing this experience and somehow, that is what
makes it far more special. Gyuvin is seeing what Ricky sees, feeling the same breeze rustle
his clothes. Although Ricky cannot see into his heart, when they look back on today, Ricky
can simply mention the view and know that him and Gyuvin will share a look of mutual
understanding, the moment engraved into their hearts.

How easy it is to take it for granted, just to stand quietly with the person you love more than
anything, who is humming contentedly beside you. The weight of his emotion baffles Ricky,
as he squeezes Gyuvin’s hand a little tighter, a pang erupting across his chest.

“It’s so blue,” Gyuvin says in awe, gesturing to the sky, voice thick with emotion. “It feels
like summer.”

“It does,” Ricky agrees. “Our summer.”

It’s good to know that Ricky’s not the only one who’s feeling it. Perhaps it’s the ridiculous
turn of events they took to be here together at this point in time, or just the climbing
temperature.

A few minutes later, it’s photo time. They each pose with the scenery and ask someone for a
few quick shots of them together, before they wander into one of the many architectural
structures that is either a church, convent or monastery, of which Ricky isn’t sure. He eyes
the board by the visitor’s desk. The Church and Monastery of São Vicente de Fora.

Either way, they slowly amble through the walkways, commenting here and there on the
paintings and the azelujo – countless blue-white ceramic tiles depicting different stories and
scenes. They then head up to the roof, where a friendly man offers them a drink that comes
complementary with their ticket. Gyuvin gets a plastic wineglassful of mango juice, while
Ricky has actual red wine in his. The earthy flavour of red fruits spreads across his tongue.

Today has just been views and more views, combined with a little history. It’s stunning up
here as well, and they once again lapse into silence as they sip at their drinks, exceedingly at
peace. They finish up with a round of photos and then Gyuvin’s stomach lets out an audible
growl.

“Lunch time?” Ricky says dryly.

“Maybe,” Gyuvin says with a grin. “What do you want?”

“Somewhere where it isn’t too hot,” Ricky says immediately. It had been pretty comfortable
inside the church due to it all being made of stone, but the minute they step back outside, the
blast of heat is like a slap to the face. The breeze only offers a temporary relief, before Ricky
feels like he’s slow roasting in his own clothes.

After twenty minutes of walking down the hill and navigating Google maps to find
somewhere with more options to eat, it’s so hot it’s almost unbearable. Tourists are crowding
out the narrow paths on either side of the road and there is very little shade coverage offered
by the buildings around them.

Ricky said he wouldn’t be picky but him and Gyuvin both turn their nose up at the more
touristy-looking places with English menus, so they continue walking down the hill.

“What about here?” Gyuvin says, gesturing to a restaurant. There are people sitting outside,
talking in not-English, which Ricky can only presume to be Portuguese. If local people are
happy to eat then, then it should be good enough for Ricky.
“If there are seats inside,” Ricky agrees, far too exhausted to walk further. They really should
have looked around and booked a place if he’d have known they were going to end up being
this fussy about it.

The waitress ushers them in and thankfully the restaurant is air-conditioned inside. It’s also
classy and looks well-decorated to a level that Ricky’s art-snob taste agrees with.

“We’ve barely done anything but why do I feel exhausted,” Ricky says, flipping through the
menu.

“Well, there is the eight-hour time difference,” Gyuvin points out with a yawn. “Yesterday
was also a military exercise. Like, jeez. Isn’t this meant to be a romantic getaway?”

“It’s definitely been romantic,” Ricky says carelessly, the words flying off his lips before he
even realises. The damn elephant in the room trumpets loudly. Fuck, he has to salvage this
somehow. “You agree, right?”

There. The burden is nicely passed over to Gyuvin and if he says he disagrees, Ricky will go
drown himself in the hotel swimming pool.

“Uh, well, um-” Gyuvin’s eyes widen in panic as he begins to stutter. “I-”

“Would you like to order some drinks?”

Ricky almost screams in frustration. Goddamnit!

They order two lemonades, and Ricky orders the picanha, while Gyuvin orders some kind of
fish stew that both of them give up on pronouncing and awkwardly points to the menu
instead. The waitress deposits a basket of bread accompanied by olive oil and balsamic
vinegar to the table, then they go silent.

Unlike the silence earlier, this one is far pricklier and more uncomfortable to sit through. It’s
the uncertain kind where Ricky wants to say something to break the spell but also isn’t sure if
he wants to. He also wants to bring up what he said earlier, but hadn’t he agreed himself that
he wasn’t going to do anything to rock the boat?

“I saw a shop selling some of those bacalhau things earlier,” Gyuvin says as they wait for the
food. “Can we get some afterwards? Apparently, they’re one of the foods you really have to
try there.”

“Don’t see why not.”

They lapse back into that awful silence, which is only broken when they thank the waitress as
the food arrives.

Ricky’s mouth waters at the sight of the steak, but also the savoury smell wafting from
Gyuvin’s stew.

“Can we share?” he blurts out, before he can stew (pun not intended) even longer in how icky
he feels. “You want some of mine?”
Gyuvin nods at him with quick little jerks of his head, almost looking relieved. Ricky picks
up one of the pieces of steak with his fork and puts it onto the bread plate to slide over to
Gyuvin.

“Thanks bro-I mean Ricky.” Gyuvin says offhandedly, then rips a piece of bread off his slice
to dunk into his stew.

Meanwhile, Ricky morosely chews on his picanha. It’s absolutely delicious – smoky and full
of that deep beefy flavour, but he can’t help but wonder why the hell Gyuvin felt the need to
correct himself. Why did he correct himself when calling Ricky bro? Are they not…bros?

The steak lodges in his throat like a furball. It cannot mean what Ricky thinks it means. It
cannot. No. Ricky would still call Gyuvin bro or dude occasionally, even if they were
together. Gyuvin would too, wouldn’t he?

This is one of the worst parts about being in love. You can’t move past shit without
overanalysing and overthinking like an idiot.

“I hope this food counts as authentic,” Ricky muses as they leave. “But even if it isn’t, it was
still damn good.”

“Totally,” Gyuvin agrees, letting out a small burp that he tries to cover with his hand. Ricky
snorts at the sound. Fortunately, the street is so busy that no one else pays attention.

They head up the hill and past a few shops to enter the place selling bacalhau. There’s an
assortment of pretty delicious looking fried foods lining the counter, along with the famed
fishcake in question.

“We can’t have too many though,” Gyuvin says mournfully, looking through the glass. “We
have the fancy dinner thing tonight, don’t we?”

They end up taking six to go, then decide to walk a little further to digest, before trying to
find a taxi back.

Gyuvin bites into one of the bacalhau as they amble down the road and he makes a noise of
approval.

“Mmm, it’s good, Ricky, try it!” He shoves the bacalhau towards Ricky’s mouth.

“Whoa, whoa, careful!” Ricky cries, dodging him. He doesn’t want greasy breadcrumbs
smeared all over his face. Instead, he takes another out the bag and bites into it, then nods at
Gyuvin.

“It’s good,” Ricky says through a large mouthful. “What was that thing you keep saying…
who made this?”

Gyuvin bursts out laughing.

“Stop, why are you so cute, Ricky?” he says, clapping Ricky on the back between laughs.
“Yeah, who made this?!”
They pass through a large street market, selling all kinds of things, antiques, clothes, ancient
Portuguese tiles that allegedly date back to the 15th century (Ricky’s gonna take their word
for it). Him and Gyuvin each buy a pair of matching trousers, with patchwork-patterned cloth
stitched across them.

“Couple outfit,” Ricky says, nudging Gyuvin, unable to resist. The weirdness from lunch has
thankfully dissolved which Ricky is insanely relieved about, given that they’re going to be
having a two-hour long dinner together tonight.

The market is fucking massive and quite fun to explore, but they turn back to the hotel earlier
than planned because of the heat. The two of them are laden with purchases may be more fun
than necessary. Ricky now owns a slightly rusty carving knife and fork, with deer feet for
handles. He considers it twenty-five euros well-spent.

They take turns to shower after they return to the room and then it’s time to get ready for
dinner.

As part of the prize, part of the hotel package is also a seven-course dinner in the hotel
restaurant that requires formal dress. Ricky has no clue if there will be other people there, or
it’s just them. He supposes they’ll have to find out.

That leaves them with approximately an hour and a half to chill and get ready. Ricky puts on
a chill RnB playlist as he blow-dries his hair and starts styling it, keeping an eye on the time.
Gyuvin had tried to press for returning home an hour later, but Ricky had put his foot down.

“We need time to get ready,” Ricky had hissed. “Don’t forget we need to shower and do our
hair. It’s not just make-up!”

Gyuvin had looked sheepish.

“And I’ll do your make-up too,” Ricky had promised in a threatening sort-of way. Gyuvin
just shrugged.

Gyuvin is a tall man with broad shoulders, just like Ricky, but he’s also a pretty boy. Ricky
knows that more people see him as pretty than Gyuvin, but tonight he’s determined to make
Gyuvin just as, if not, even prettier than him.

Ricky agonises for a bit over whether he should slick his hair back entirely or leave a few
strands over his forehead like he usually does. He ends up going with his usual style, with the
logic that simple is best.

Once Ricky’s hair is done, he also does Gyuvin’s, styling it in fashionably tousled way,
giving him little curls that make him look painfully cute. A bit of eyeliner, glitter and blush
later, Gyuvin looks mouthwatering. Ricky wants to bite one of his cheeks and chew on it like
mochi.

It’s not that Gyuvin has anything against make-up, but it’s just not something he’s in the habit
of wearing. It’s the same with his fashion. He’s not super experimental with his choices, but
if Ricky encourages him enough, he’ll do it.
Ricky likes dressing Gyuvin up and Gyuvin knows it.

That’s why he sits patiently against the headboard of the bed, while Ricky kneels in between
his legs, dolling him up.

“Make sure you leave enough time to do yours,” Gyuvin tells him, while trying to keep his
face as still as possible. Earlier Ricky had poked him in the eye with a brush, and they’d had
to take a five-minute break while Gyuvin waited for his eye to stop watering.

“Don’t you worry about me,” Ricky had said, brandishing his brush at Gyuvin. “I’m gonna
make sure you look fucking awesome.”

“Go crazy,” Gyuvin had mumbled as Ricky highlighted the bridge of his nose in a ‘what the
hell, sure’ type of tone.

Doing Gyuvin’s make-up also gives Ricky a great excuse to stare at his face in a way that
can’t be considered creepy and admire how freaking handsome and beautiful he is. And he
can just grab Gyuvin’s chin and tilt it up and down, in the guise of applying something to his
face.

Gyuvin can’t say anything either, he just has to watch in silence, eyes following Ricky,
sometimes going cross-eyed as Ricky leans in closer.

He has to fight back the increasing urge to lean in and kiss Gyuvin senseless, to say ‘fuck
dinner’ and have his way with him right there and then.

Ricky inadvertently catches the drift of a new scent as he works on Gyuvin’s make-up. He’s
almost finished. Gyuvin doesn’t need much anyway, Ricky is highlighting his features more
than anything.

“Is that a new cologne?” he asks, eyes squinted in concentration. “It doesn’t smell like you.”

The unfamiliarity of it feels jarring, a continual blip on his radar.

Gyuvin makes a ‘humph’ noise to confirm.

“All done,” Ricky says, leaning back to appreciate his handiwork.

He watches Gyuvin watch himself in the mirror, looking curiously at himself. First shyly,
then looking more appreciative of his new look.

“You made me look so hot,” Gyuvin lets out a whistle, looking side to side and watching how
half his face glitters with under the light. “Thanks babe – erm, bro – I mean, yeah, thank you,
my good fellow.” He suddenly looks frazzled.

Not this again. Ricky sucks in a breath between his teeth.

“You’re welcome, pal,” Ricky replies, in the dryest most sarcastic tone he can muster.
“Move.”
“What? Oh, you need to do your make-up, right,” Gyuvin mumbles and gets up abruptly.
He’s only in his dress shirt, crisp and freshly pressed along with his boxers. Ricky feels
amused by it. It’s typically the get-up Gyuvin wears when he has online meetings.

He’s seen Gyuvin’s bare legs countless times, but combined with the few buttons that are
undone, the softness of his features accentuated by Ricky’s make-up. Ricky just wants.

“Wait,” Ricky finds himself saying in an odd voice. “You’ve got a – uh –“He gestures at
Gyuvin’s face vaguely.

Gyuvin blinks at him, tilting his head to the side, nodding for Ricky to fix whatever he needs
to.

Lip gloss can always be re-applied, Ricky thinks, as he transfers half of Gyuvin’s lip gloss to
his own lips. They’re as soft as ever, tasting chemically sweet.

“I think I got it,” Ricky says, pulling away, feeling immensely satisfied. His whole body feels
tingly, as if he’d pushed a fork into an electrical outlet. “You might need to do your lips again
though.”

He deposits the little tube of lip gloss into Gyuvin’s hand, and when Gyuvin doesn’t respond,
Ricky pushes his fingers inwards, so they curl around it securely.

Then he shifts past Gyuvin to sit on the stool and uses the mirror to quickly do his own make-
up, not bothering to look at Gyuvin and try to gauge his response.

It appears that today he’s had enough worrying about what Gyuvin is thinking. No, tonight is
about Ricky and what he wants.

With his hair and make-up finished, Ricky swivels round to face Gyuvin, who’s scrolling
through his phone while sitting on the sofa. In the time Ricky was getting ready, he had put
on his evening attire, waistcoat buttoned up and a tie hanging loosely around his neck. Ricky
recognises the tie. He’d got it for Gyuvin’s birthday last year.

“How do I look?” Ricky asks.

Gyuvin drops his phone at the sound of Ricky’s voice, startled. It’s not just Ricky being
crazy. Gyuvin is jumpier today.

Gyuvin stares at Ricky’s face for a few seconds. Then his gaze slides downwards.

Oh, of course. Ricky’s bathrobe has conveniently slid down one shoulder, exposing his collar
bones enticingly in a totally not-on-purpose way. Or at least, that’s how Ricky wants it to
seem to Gyuvin.

“You look beautiful, Ricky,” Gyuvin says with great effort, wrenching his gaze back to
Ricky’s face. “You always do.”

It’s not like Ricky doesn’t get his fair share of compliments but it’s the ‘always’ that gets to
him and makes Ricky’s heart twist in his chest, Gyuvin dealing a heavy blow. His bravado
falters under the intensity of Gyuvin’s gaze.

“You…you really think so?” Ricky says, suddenly made shy by the weight of his words.
“Always?”

Gyuvin’s face contorts with conflict, eyebrows knitting together and mouth scrunching up.

“Yeah.”

“Even that time when I got wasted and threw up over your shoes in the club and all my
make-up was running down my face like black tears?”

“Yeah…?” Gyuvin says, now looking confused.

“Even when we were pulling all-nighters in the library and I hadn’t slept in days, was living
off delivery food and hadn’t washed my hair for a week straight?”

“I remember that!” Gyuvin says, then frowns. “I mean, what do you want me to say. You still
didn’t look ugly.”

“But you still thought I looked beautiful?” Ricky insists, hating how desperate he sounds.
What is he playing at, fishing so desperately for more praise from Gyuvin? Is this what he
has been reduced to?

Or Ricky can choose to blame it on the Portuguese air. The heat maybe. It’s making him act
out in ways he would never have imagined. He pointedly chooses to ignore the stream of cold
air rushing in from the air conditioner of their perfectly temperature-controlled room.

“I mean, yes, you looked beautiful even then,” Gyuvin says quickly, tripping over the words.
“But Ricky, it’s not about how you looked at the time. There’s just beauty in the way you are.
The way you exist.” He says it plainly and matter-of-factly, as if that’s just a norm for Kim
Gyuvin. There’s no question behind it, no beseeching tone, seeking to appease Ricky. It’s a
factual statement.

A fatal blow to the heart. A definite KO. Ricky bites his lip, stricken. Part of him is over the
moon. Of course he would be, to hear that from the person he loves. But he’s also furious and
part of him wants to tell Gyuvin to shut up. That you’re not allowed to say that to me.

“Oh.”

That’s all he can say.

“Thank you, Gyuvin.”

Ricky says it softly but sincerely.

“For the record, you too.”

He says it so quietly that he doesn’t know it Gyuvin catches it. He doesn’t want to think
about it.
This time, it’s genuinely an accident when his bathrobe slips further down his shoulder,
flashing a nipple. Effortlessly sexy. Whatever, Ricky can get on board with that.

Gyuvin’s eyes lock straight onto it, letting out a shaky exhale that signals something so
obvious Ricky feels his cheeks flame.

It would be so easy for him to shrug the other shoulder, let the bathrobe slip off fully, untie it
and…

No. They have to go downstairs in fifteen minutes. There isn’t time. Get your damn head out
of the gutter. They exchange glances and Ricky has to count to five to control himself and not
launch across the bed and land on top of Gyuvin.

Instead he gets changed, staunchly facing the wall and trying to ignore the feeling of being
watched. He’s certain Gyuvin is staring, but Ricky’s not going to entertain his fantasies by
turning around and confirming it.

They make it down to dinner without any major incidents, dressed immaculately to the nines.

The hotel restaurant is almost empty, with only a few other tables occupied. It’s a nice space
not decorated too grandly to the point of feeling stifling, retaining a comfortable easy
atmosphere yet still looking impressive. There’s a full-length fresco running across the entire
ceiling of landscape and sky, white wooden chairs with red cushions.

“Do you have a reservation?” The man at the entrance asks the two of them.

They’re seated by the window, which gives them a nice view of the pool. There are still
people floating around in the water and lounging on the deck chairs, as the sun slowly sinks
into a candyfloss pink horizon.

The waiter comes by promptly to introduce this evening’s dinner to them, a five-course
tasting menu. After he’s done, another member of staff passes their table, with a massive
wicker basket full of different bread rolls for them to take.

“I know the dress code was formal, but I didn’t think this would be such an extravagant
affair,” Gyuvin says in an undertone to Ricky. “Like, this feels like proper fine dining.”

“And you know what that means,” Ricky says with a chuckle. “Tiny-ass portions of food.”

“I know,” Gyuvin whines. “I’m still gonna be hungry after this. We should order take-out or
something.”

“You never know,” Ricky shrugs. “Maybe we can try and eat their entire breadbasket.”

They slice and butter three rolls while they wait for the first course to arrive, a tiny glass of
something bright green, which is a melon and mint foam. The two of them knock it back in
one sip.

“Feels like I had some juice,” Ricky says. “Nice and refreshing, but it’s still just foamed up
melon.”
He takes a sip from the recommended white wine and swirls it around his mouth. Not bad.
Gyuvin, surprise surprise, has a tall glass of freshly squeezed mango juice beside him. On the
adjacent table is the rest of a full pitcher.

“Man goes crazy for mangoes,” Gyuvin says, lifting his glass for a toast, without as much as
a flinch from his absurdly bad pun. Ricky still laughs, then considers drowning himself in the
swimming pool again.

Course two is also about five mouthfuls, consisting of tuna tartare, tapioca chips with a
mustard and berry puree, and what appears to be rehydrated shitake mushrooms.

“Oh, we have protein,” Gyuvin says between giggles as the food disappears in seconds. The
tuna tartare would barely fill out a tablespoon.

A bowl of something vividly green appears for the next course and Ricky has to resist the
urge to kick Gyuvin as he whispers ‘puku puku pow pow’ under his breath, as the waiter
introduces it as pea cream soup with crispy bacon and ‘cheese ice cream’.

They finally get something resembling a main course, a tiny chunk of red mullet the size of
Ricky’s finger and a spoonful of sweet potato puree smeared across his plate, topped with
exactly one floret of charred cauliflower the size of his thumb. He’s starting to wonder if
that’s how they measure things down in the kitchen.

There’re three drops of something else on their plates too, which turns out to be cauliflower
puree.

“Are they low on cauliflower or something?” Gyuvin says, eyebrow raised, as Ricky purses
his lips to stop himself laughing out loud. “I feel kinda bad though. The food is nice and it’s
free. It’s just. Where is it.”

It’s true though. It’s the fourth course and it’s a square inch of slow cooked Iberico pork belly
on yet another bed of pureed vegetables, with more bunch of vegetables in a little stack.
These are kiddie portions. Infant-sized.

Both of their eyes widen as they bite into the pork though, as it dissolves straight over
Ricky’s tongue.

Gyuvin doesn’t miss a beat.

“Who made this?”

“Gyuvin, stop it!” Ricky says but he’s snorting along with him, almost choking on his food.

He’s glad they’re almost done, because across from them is a large party of ten, that looks to
be some kind of family gathering, from the grandma right down to the grandkids and Ricky
can tell that they are not going to be peaceful.

Dessert is mystifying, to put it politely. The waiter explains it’s an alcoholic ice cream with
pineapple, as well what appears to be egg yolk soaked in sugar syrup, which is a traditional
kind of Portuguese sweet. He wants to like it out of respect for the culture; he really does, but
the texture and the sweetness confuses him.

Meanwhile, Gyuvin takes one bite of the ice cream and his face screws up in disgust.

“Why’s it so bitter?” he says in horror. “And not in a good way like coffee. This is meant to
be ice cream?”

“Alcohol does that,” Ricky supplies helpfully, as Gyuvin sighs, despondent about the ice
cream.

Ricky ends up eating all of the ice cream, while Gyuvin eats their pineapple and encharcada,
so it works out in the end. Altogether, Ricky had really enjoyed it. It also helped that Gyuvin
looks otherworldly beautiful thanks to Ricky and acts as excellent eye-candy to make-up for
the abysmal sizes of their portions.

That’s the end of the meal, but not the dining experience. The waiter leads them out the
restaurant, to another room on the side, with a full bar and live piano music.

“If you would like to sit and order any tea or coffee to finish off the evening,” he tells them.

They don’t sit for long, because five minutes later, Gyuvin remembers that they’ve actually
got something booked in with the spa for nine and it’s already:

“Eight fifty-nine,” Ricky says in dismay and they both rise up abruptly and walk out the
room as fast as they can without looking rude or disorderly. “Where is the freaking spa?”

“I think it’s by the indoor pool,” Gyuvin says, scratching his chin as they speed-walk across
the atrium. “We need to take the stairs.”

“I’m impressed you remember,” Ricky says. His own sense of direction in his hotel sucks.
It’s the fact that they have two sets of elevators and stairs, which give access to different
areas in the hotel. Confusing as hell. “It’s your superpower.”

“I thought my superpower was always being able to catch food in my mouth, but that works
too,” Gyuvin says. “I can have more than one.”

“What’s mine then?”

Ricky hasn’t really thought about it before. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s been able to put
with all this bullshit in his life for so long without going insane. Or the ability to draw
perfectly winged eyeliner with no effort at all. He doesn’t have a clue.

“Being young and rich, tall and handsome,” Gyuvin replies without missing a beat.
“Obviously.”

When they stumble through the glass doors of the spa, Ricky is a little short on breath and
praying whatever was booked for them isn’t going to be cancelled. A massage, a facial, he
could do with something relaxing after the ordeal of today and yesterday. He had winced this
morning when he’d gotten out of bed this morning, as a dull ache shot through the soles of
his feet even as they made contact with the carpet.

“Kim Gyuvin...Shen Ricky,” Gyuvin gets out between breaths at the desk. “Appointment. At.
Nine?”

The two women at the desk give him a look of mild disdain that slips through the cracks of
their professionalism and Gyuvin flounders a little.

It must be one of those little clauses in the bookings that say ‘arrive ten minutes before your
appointment’ or something. Ricky’s guess is not only are they five minutes late, but they’re
also officially fifteen minutes late.

“Sorry we’re late,” Ricky adds in abruptly, putting an arm around Gyuvin for moral support.
“Um. Dinner overran.”

The women look slightly mollified.

“You have a full-body massage booked, is that correct?”

Ricky lets out a small whoop.

That sounds like a fucking dream.

“Would you prefer to be in the same room or separate ones?”

“Same room, of course,” Gyuvin says immediately, then gives Ricky a cautious sideways
glance. “Right?”

Ricky just nods.

They’re led into a dimly lit room, mostly illuminated by candlelight. In the middle of the
room are two massage beds, with two neatly folded bathrobes on top. The room smells like a
mix of potpourri and aromatherapy, soothing but very heady. With all the food in Ricky’s
stomach, the drowsiness hits him like a ton of bricks.

The two women leave so they can both take off their stuffy dinner clothes and change into the
robes, Gyuvin scrambling out in no time, clearly glad to be free of it. Ricky isn’t as fussed;
it’s basically his usual style.

“I’ve never gotten a massage with someone in the room,” Gyuvin says, in nothing but his
underwear. Ricky can see it, the bulge, hanging down Gyuvin’s left thigh. He tries to avert his
eyes and wonders is it normal to be this horny.

Ricky doesn’t ever think he’s been this horny ever, not even with those raging hormones
during puberty. It had been terrible, even during dinner. He had found himself hyper-focused
on Gyuvin’s movements, when his lips closed around his glass of damn mango juice, leaving
a pearly smear of lip gloss, or sauce on the corner of his mouth.
Not even that, he just saw the veins of Gyuvin’s hands as he used his knife and fork, and that
alone filled Ricky with bubbling desire.

It had been approximately forty-eight hours since Gyuvin had sucked him off in an
underground cave, and Ricky was already parched like a man dying from thirst.

“Are you checking out my dick?” Gyuvin’s voice rings through the room with the force of an
air raid siren. Normally, Ricky would insist he wasn’t until his dying breath. But instead,
what comes out is:

“So what if I was?”

That leaves Gyuvin looking flummoxed, mouth open like a fish gasping for air.

The unspoken question hangs behind them: what are you gonna do about it?

They stare at each other with rapidly rising sexual tension until Gyuvin realises he hasn’t
even put on his robe. He looks away and the moment ends. Ricky’s blood had began to rush
southward and now his body feels confused, as if unsure whether to redirect the blood back
to his brain or to his dick.

Whatever that had been, the spark has already been lit, fizzing in their collective
consciousness. When the ladies come in and they lie down on the massage beds, him and
Gyuvin exchange a look that makes Ricky shiver inadvertently.

Gyuvin, for how soft he usually, has a hardness to his gaze, an edge sharpened by hunger, and
not from the piddly portions of their meal.

On the flip side, Ricky’s alright with not being stuffed as he’d probably throw up if the
massage therapist pressed too hard.

The women come in as Ricky lies face down, looking into the hole of the bed, while she
really gets to work on him. She peels the robe off his upper half and Ricky hears the click of
a bottle as she oils up her hands. He has to resist the urge to make a lube joke.

Ouch. The massage therapist has a firm hand. Like, he’s talking about a really firm one. His
shoulders are tense beyond belief and as soon as she digs her thumbs into Ricky’s trapezius,
he almost lets out a scream.

Instead, he tries to just breathe slowly and deeply, exhaling through his mouth as she begins
what feels like assault on his body.

It all goes to hell when a knot on his shoulder gets located and this massage therapist goes in
with determination, rolling her fingers over it and ‘twanging’ it.

“Ah!” Ricky can’t help it. It’s forced from his mouth when he feels her knuckle mash into
him. She immediately releases the pressure, and he lets out a sigh of relief. Next to him, he
can hear Gyuvin’s breathing heavily too, letting out a hiss as his muscles get poked and
prodded too.
Ricky doesn’t want to be the only one who moans in pain, so he privately hopes Gyuvin does
too. He doesn’t want to look like a wimp. Regardless of the massage not being a pain
tolerance competition, and this is just some strange mind game Ricky has created, and the
fact that moaning and groaning is standard massage behaviour, Ricky still feels embarrassed.

Not towards the massage therapist hearing him, but Gyuvin. Which also makes no sense
considering Gyuvin has been the only one hearing Ricky moan at all for months, when
they’re doing their little brojobs. And these aren’t even sexual moans. Ricky’s just in sore and
in pain.

Again, Ricky’s just going to blame the heat (and ignore the air conditioner cycling cold air
into the room).

He’d thought his shoulders would be the worst of it, but when the massage therapist’s hands
descend to his lower back, Ricky also descends into a world of pain. Is this the cost of having
carrying around such a fat ass? He’s joking, of course, but the pain makes him so feel so
loopy that he briefly considers it could be true.

“Ahh…ngh..aaAAAAaaH…ah…ughh…ohh…hiyaAAaaah…oh!”

The above sounds is just a small excerpt of the selection of noises that Ricky produces over
the next ten minutes. He literally feels like his shoulders, freshly loosened and relaxed, are
tensing up again. Ricky’s toes curl as he feels fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot and he
feels like he’s sweated all his make-up off, despite the room being relatively cool.

But at the same time, it feels so good. His brain feels all mushy like cotton wool and he’s
drooling into the facehole of the massage bed (whatever you call it), limp like a rag doll.

The massage therapist covers up his top half and starts oiling his legs. Ricky silently prays
for mercy. Gyuvin still hasn’t made an audible sound, the loudest he had gotten being a small
grunt.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky says, voice muffled. “Are you alive?”

“Hah,” Gyuvin says, voice equally muffled. “Just about.”

“I think I’m going to have a sore throat tomorrow,” Ricky says, realising how croaky he is
right now.

“You sure?” Gyuvin replies.

Whatever that means.

“Would you like to make it a certainty?” Ricky retorts, wincing as the massage starts on his
legs. Thankfully, it’s nowhere near as tender as his back.

“What?” Gyuvin says, sounding wildly taken aback.

“What?” Ricky replies, confused.

There’s a moment of silence, offset by the ambient music that Ricky has somehow only
noticed just now.

Then it hits him how his words may have been interpreted and heat coils in his stomach for
the nth time this evening.

Well, if Gyuvin’s offering-

“Aaah!”

This time, it’s Gyuvin who lets out a shout of pain.

Ricky’s ears perk up, suddenly on full alert. This is ASMR. This is his Cocomelon.

“Ah…ughh…ahh…”

Oh, it’s simply music to his ears. Gyuvin’s little staccato moans, voice tight and whiny as his
massage therapist abuses the hell out of his legs.

Ricky really hopes he doesn’t get asked to turn over, because he’s got a boner.

“Could you please turn over?”

Aw, fuck.

“Yeah, hang on, just need to stretch,” Ricky lies, shuffling around and trying to extend his
floppy limbs. Think terrible thoughts. Zhang Hao and Hanbin getting it on. His face
reflexively contorts in disgust, and he feels his pole slowly dropping the flag, deciding it’s
safe to turn around.

When he lifts his face from the now sweaty face-hole, the light in the room is blinding. It
comes at him with an intense ferocity, despite how muted it is in reality. Ricky’s had his eyes
closed for so long he can’t adjust and squints at his surroundings. It’s enough to distract him
from the one-man symphony that is Gyuvin and his moans.

“You still wanna order food after the massage?” Gyuvin asks him. It sounds like he’s far
away, as if Ricky’s underwater. He shakes himself back into alertness and blinks a few more
times, watching the world make sense again.

“Hey, I asked if you want food,”

Ricky hears him loud and clear.

“I’m guessing you do.” He assumes Gyuvin must still be hungry then.

“But do you?” Gyuvin stresses.

“I’ll get something if you do, yeah.”

“Alright. We can ask reception how it works on the way back.”

Conversation flows a lot easier when you’re not speaking into the void of the facehole.

Then Gyuvin lets out another groan and Ricky clenches his teeth, counting backwards from
1000 by subtracting seven each time. This is going to be a long ride.

When the massage ends, the therapists hastily leave the room and tell them they’re free to go
once they’re changed, no doubt eager to get off work. Now Ricky is expected to get up, it
takes him a minute to recalibrate his body and realise he in fact has functional limbs, and that
he isn’t a sentient pile of goo.

“You need a hand there, Kim Ricky?”

Gyuvin’s already up, robe laying forgotten on the bed. Ricky blinks at his shirtless figure,
once again drawn to the area of his body where his top half joins his bottom half.

Ricky wiggles on the bed uselessly.

“I don’t think I can walk anymore,” Ricky says, with a sigh of defeat. He thinks he’ll have to
give up here.

He’s being a drama queen. Give him a minute and Ricky will peel himself off this bed. Or
roll off, whichever alternative is easiest.

“In that case,” Gyuvin says decisively, then Ricky watches him bend down, slide one hand
under Ricky’s knees and the other under Ricky’s shoulders. The ground tilts beneath him as
Gyuvin raise him off the bed in a princess carry.

Ricky feels his shoulder press against Gyuvin’s bare chest and suppresses a shiver. Enough.

“We need to get dressed,” Ricky says, hitting Gyuvin feebly on the chest so he puts him
down.

They slip their fancy evening clothes back on as fast as they can, Ricky leaving a few buttons
undone on his shirt and running a hand through his messed-up hair, so it doesn’t look like
he’s just gone through a windswept tunnel.

“You sure you can walk?” Gyuvin asks him, looking cheeky. Ricky feels his cheeks burn
unexpectedly. Ever since his impulsiveness earlier in their room, all their exchanges have felt
loaded with underlying intentions, which are yet to be defined. No one is giving any direct
answers, so in lieu with the day’s events, Ricky answers his question with another question.

“What are you gonna do about it if I can’t?”

“Huh?” Gyuvin says, face carefully blank. “Leave you on the floor to crawl back to our
room, of course.”

“You want me to come crawling back to you?” Ricky quips, eyebrows raised.

“Would you?”
They stand in front of the elevator and watch the numbers change.

This isn’t talking. It’s just question after question. The energy is all off, nothing like their
usual back-and-forth.

Ricky goes still, just as the elevator dings.

If anything, he would say they’re flirting. Ricky hadn’t even realised that he’d slipped into
his flirting mode. This is the way he talks when he’s on the prowl during a night out and has a
biological itch he needs to scratch.

It’s odd. Because as long as all of this has been happening, none of it felt like flirting. It was
just Ricky and Gyuvin arguing, looking at each other and then things just happened.
Spontaneous, unpredictable, uncalculated. It was always a spur-of-the-moment decision, an
impulsive urge.

Even the messing around in the shower, which had been the closest to sex they’d ever gotten
had been a result of them fighting over bodywash.

Flirting isn’t always planned, but once you slip into that kind of exchange, it sets up an
expectation, the possibility of something more.

He can’t quite remember who started it, but Ricky knows he’s flirting with Gyuvin, and that
Gyuvin is flirting back with him.

The reason it feels so foreign to him is because he’s never seen Gyuvin flirt. Is this what he’s
like with other people? What he was like when he was getting together with his ex-girlfriend?

Does Gyuvin even flirt with people? Ricky sure doesn’t want him to. It’s not as if Gyuvin
doesn’t have game, but he’s just such an excellent catch that he rarely needs to use it on
anyone. People just fall straight into his lap. Ricky is a prime example.

“I would never crawl,” Ricky decides primly, as the doors slide open. “I’d just walk. And you
would lollop.”

“Lollop?” Gyuvin says in outrage. “I do not lollop!”

“Yes you do,” Ricky tells him seriously, but it’s offset by the playful gesture he makes.
“You’re one of life’s lollopers.”

No. There’s no way Gyuvin has game in that kind of way. As in, he’s not out here rizzing
people up intentionally with cheesy pick-up lines and coming up to people and asking if
they’re ‘open-minded’.

He’s just so painfully honest and sincere that anyone with a working pair of eyes can tell that
the real Gyuvin is exactly what he presents to the world. The real Gyuvin is kind, sweet and
lovely, with a penchant for teasing. He has a heart of gold.

But damn, does he piss Ricky off sometimes with his antics. If Gyuvin was all good and holy,
like a saint, then Ricky supposes it would make him less interesting. Being too perfect is
boring. A bit of mischief adds dimension. He can’t ever imagine a life where they’re not at
each other’s throats, bickering away.

As the elevator rises, Ricky feels Gyuvin’s hand slip into his without a word. He looks at
Gyuvin, who resolutely avoids his gaze.

Ricky grazes his thumbs over Gyuvin’s knuckles, intentionally slow, and watches him flinch.
He feels Gyuvin’s palm grow damp and sweaty.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky tries to be casual about it. “I think the massage therapist missed a spot on
my legs earlier. Could you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Finish off the massage for me, duh,” Ricky wheedles, lying through his teeth. “I don’t want
to have one sore spot when the rest of me is all relaxed.”

“You can reach your legs,” Gyuvin says. They walk back to their room hand in hand.
“Massage it yourself.”

“But the point is I want you to,” Ricky pouts. “C’mon Gyuvin.”

If it wasn’t blatantly obvious, Ricky is instigating. He’s not too bothered about the end result
as long as it’s R-18. While it’s true Ricky could be more direct about it and suck Gyuvin’s
face off, Ricky’s playing coy. Today has been all about light touches and teases, so he’s going
to continue that theme.

In his head it plays out something like this: Gyuvin will massage his legs, and Ricky will
guide his hands higher and higher up Ricky’s thighs and maybe (hopefully) in between them.
His dick jumps in his trousers just thinking about it. And if that’s not enough, then Ricky will
offer to massage Gyuvin. His hand will accidentally brush his dick or something. All total
coincidence.

They change into something more comfortable and casual. Ricky just puts his pyjamas on.
It’s not the sexiest of looks, but hey his pervert brain supplies, at least it’s easy to get out of.

He lies down on the bed, about to tell Gyuvin he wants his massage now. Unusually, there’s a
small pit in the bottom of his stomach, a knot of anxiety. A hint of self-doubt, which has been
growing inside of him ever since Ricky made his decision to say something before the trip
ends about them.

“Can we order something before I do your legs?” Gyuvin asks. He’s in a loose white vest and
his boxers, forgoing his shorts.

That means there’s only one layer of fabric between Ricky and-

“You’re still hungry?”

God, Ricky had totally forgotten about that. He exhales heavily through his nose, trying to
quell the horny frustration that threatens to boil over into rage, and opens the first food
delivery app on his phone he sees.

“Have a look and choose something then,” Ricky says, sliding the phone into Gyuvin’s
hands. “I’ll just have a drink.”

Had there actually been something in the air earlier, or has it all been one-sided for Ricky?
This is why Gyuvin is so frustrating. Fuck this, man. Gyuvin can just eat more at breakfast
tomorrow. Does he really need a late-night snack?

“You found anything?” Ricky asks, forcing himself to be interested. He really wants to throw
the phone out the window. But he also doesn’t want to let his precious Gyuvin go hungry at
night, with a rumbly tummy. That would be awful. It would break Ricky’s heart.

Ricky debates to himself for a second, then pulls his pyjama bottoms off, leaving him in just
his pyjama tops and briefs.

“C’mon,” he whines to Gyuvin. “Order it, then come and massage my legs. I want to go to
sleep soon.”

He flashes his legs at Gyuvin and watches his nostrils make a weird contraction as he pulls a
face.

“C’mon, Qubing,” Ricky repeats. He’s really pulling out all the stops now. “I’ll get cold in
the room with the AC on.”

“I can turn it down,” Gyuvin replies immediately. He taps at the phone a few times and
passes it back to Ricky. “I ordered a kebab. You have a look.”

Ricky hits the checkout button instead and pays immediately. His appetite is not for food.

“Gyu,” he says, lying down and wiggling his toes in Gyuvin’s direction. “Hurry up.”

“Is this because of all that foot talk in the morning earlier?” Gyuvin says, with a tentative
glance at Ricky’s toes. He suddenly grabs Ricky’s feet, a hand around each foot. Ricky bites
back a noise. The skin contact sends a rush to his brain, static exploding like fireworks
behind his ears.

A tickly feeling runs through Ricky, and he squirms, as Gyuvin caresses his feet, massaging
them softly. This had not been a direction he had been anticipating. Feet had not been
involved when he fantasised about Gyuvin.

“What, are you suddenly a foot guy?” Ricky says, thrown off. He watches Gyuvin circle his
ankle with his thumb and index finger. “I’m ticklish there, dude.”

The dude slips out unconsciously. It’s just too engrained in him. And it should really kill the
mood – although what fucking mood this is, Ricky has no clue.

Gyuvin lifts Ricky’s foot up and kisses the top of his foot unexpectedly.
“The fuck?” Ricky cries, jumping back, but Gyuvin’s got a firm grip on him. “What are you
doing?”

“I dunno,” Gyuvin says absently. “You wanted me to touch your feet, didn’t you? That’s what
I’m doing.”

“I didn’t say like-like that!” Ricky screeches, letting out a hiss as Gyuvin licks the along the
arch of his foot. “Is this not gross to you?”

“They smell nice,” Gyuvin says, giving Ricky’s toes a sniff. “Like whatever oil they used in
the massage earlier.”

Ricky can’t believe how nonchalant Gyuvin’s being about this. Also, he has serious questions
to ask about how long Gyuvin’s been concealing this foot fetish. Worse of all, Ricky is
allowing this to happen. He is allowing Gyuvin to look curiously at his toes and Ricky
doesn’t know where to draw the line. He would have never let anyone else go anywhere near
them, even if they asked. That’s how bad it is.

There’s surprisingly little Gyuvin could ask of Ricky and have him say no to. Unless it leads
to extreme public humiliation. But that’s already happened far too many times when he’s
with Gyuvin anyway.

Gyuvin sticks Ricky’s big toe into his mouth and sucks on it. Ricky makes a noise like a fire
engine siren and turns just as red.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you,” Gyuvin laughs, dropping Ricky’s feet back onto the
mattress. “I’m not into feet.”

“Because that display was of someone totally disgusted by feet,” Ricky deadpans. He can see
the light reflect off the sheen of his own foot, where it’s still wet with Gyuvin’s fucking
saliva.

“Look, I don’t love feet,” Gyuvin corrects him with passion. “I just don’t find it disgusting.
It’s just part of our bodies. Plus, your feet are part of you. It would never be gross to me.”

This has to be one of the most embarrassing conversations he’s ever had. He’s gone brick red.
Ricky is also mortifyingly bricked up from Gyuvin fucking around with his toes. He might as
well rename himself Bricky.

The mortifying ordeal of being in love with Kim Gyuvin. Ricky is about to try to catch a
glance of Gyuvin’s crotch to see if he’s been affected by this at all, but Gyuvin turns around
and heads to the bathroom, bringing back a bottle of lotion, which he squeezes all over his
hands.

“I’ll massage you for real,” Gyuvin promises and actually starts kneading circles into Ricky’s
calves. “Ignore all that.”

Wait. Ricky is still bulge-scouting. But then he feels himself start to melt into goo at
Gyuvin’s ministrations and lies still, eyes sliding shut.
Yes, ignore the suspicious Ricky foot exploration, just like they’ve been trying to ignore the
fact they’ve had their dicks in each other’s faces for the last few months. The air feels
noticeably more charged with tension than before.

Gyuvin is only massaging lightly, not truly invested in straightening out every one of Ricky’s
muscle fibres like the massage therapists earlier. Once or twice, he pokes a previously
kneaded spot on Ricky’s feet that the massage therapist focused on earlier and Ricky will
wince. It’s sore and the feeling is not dissimilar to when you poke a bruise.

Gyuvin spends a minute or two on Ricky’s legs, then his hands skate over Ricky’s kneecaps,
skipping them entirely and going straight onto Ricky’s thighs. There’s no way he hasn’t
noticed the way the front of Ricky’s briefs has been slowly filling out, unless Gyuvin truly
has not glanced at his crotch once.

Ricky’s thighs aren’t sensitive, but he’s so overloaded with anticipation that they tingle
wherever Gyuvin touches, and those touches drift higher and higher. Perhaps Gyuvin has
caught onto Ricky’s unspoken code of seduction. That’s not very impressive though. Ricky
had as much subtlety as a cat in heat wailing and humping the furniture.

Gyuvin places a hand on each knee and pushes them apart wordlessly.

Ricky lets out a sharp audible exhale. This position screams sexual intention, no matter how
he slices it.

“Just so I can get your inner thighs,” Gyuvin says quietly, then strokes up the seam of Ricky’s
thighs, stopping just short of his balls.

Ricky’s so hard it’s literally poking Gyuvin in the eye. There is no way he can’t tell how
turned on Ricky is. Yet Gyuvin seems to pay it no mind, still massaging at his thighs gently,
fingers occasionally skimming the fabric of Ricky’s briefs.

Of all the times to play dumb, this is really not it. Ricky could have moaned long ago but he’s
been desperately biting his tongue. He decides he’ll do something that’s either very risky or
stupid, or both. But his brains are addled by how horny he is.

“Let me take this off,” Ricky announces boldly, sitting up. “So you can get to the top of my
thighs properly.”

He wants it to be one smooth motion, akin to a flourish, as he whips off his briefs and looks
at Gyuvin in all his naked glory, as if this is something perfectly normal. Normal to do
between friends, not him and Gyuvin per se, because him and Gyuvin have blurred the
boundaries of normal friendship into a messy smudged line. Also, Ricky is very much in love
with him. That’s an important factor too.

He fumbles with his underwear in a most undignified way, struggling to get it down over his
butt. It could be nerves, horny anticipation or his fingers are simply slippery with sweat
despite the ambient temperature of their room.
“Let me help with that,” Gyuvin hooks his fingers around the waistband and slides them
down Ricky’s legs, past his knees, down to his accursed toes. There they lay, an unsightly
blemish on the otherwise crisp white sheets, freshly made by housekeeping.

So there Ricky is, naked from waist, cock flushed and leaking from the tip, pointing up at the
ceiling in a proud salute, just happy to be there.

Gyuvin has the audacity to look at the time on his phone.

“Wonder when the food’s going to arrive,” he wonders aloud. “Can you check on your
phone?”

Is the game they’re playing? Does Gyuvin want Ricky to beg? Does he want Ricky to grovel?
To be all desperate.

There’s no way. Ricky may be desperate, but he has some semblance of pride. Everything is
all Gyuvin’s fault anyway. If he hadn’t been so stupidly handsome and kind, then Ricky
wouldn’t have fallen for him anyway. And you know, when Ricky flashes back and thinks to
how it all started, Gyuvin is the one who really initiated the first step. He was the one who
suddenly descended on Ricky like a pack of wolves, claiming his lips when Ricky was weak
with malaise and fever, unable to fight back.

Ever since then Ricky had been subject to a slow torture as his feelings deepened and
awakened.

He grits his teeth with determination and thinks how ridiculous it is that he’s checking the
status of a doner kebab with chips while he’s got a boner. Does Gyuvin want that kebab more
than him? When it comes, Ricky’s going to shove it up his asshole so Gyuvin has to eat it out
of him.

That thought alone is so feral and unhinged that Ricky freezes entirely, appalled by his own
mind and what it just conjured up.

“The fuck,” he whispers to himself. “The actual fuck.”

“What?”

“Twenty minutes,” Ricky says. It’s starting to feel confusing. He can’t tell if Gyuvin’s hungry
eyes are for him or for that kebab now. This makes him want to kill himself on multiple
levels. Is he thinking about Ricky’s meat or the kebab’s meat? Is the white sauce in Gyuvin’s
mind garlic mayo or the kind filled with sperm?

Ricky wonders how many braincells it’s possible to lose in one sitting. Gyuvin just stands
there and looks at Ricky maddeningly, with those maniacal hungry eyes, like he wants to
devour Ricky – or a late-night greasy doner kebab.

Ricky does not want to be compared to food. It feels mildly objectifying. He’s this close to
offering Gyuvin an ultimatum between him and the kebab.
“Ah, for fuck’s sake!” Ricky cries, the bedsheets wrinkling in his fists. “God damn it. Kim
fucking Gyuvin, I’m going to fucking kill you. I hate you so much.”

“Hey now,” Gyuvin blinks at him owlishly. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Don’t fucking play with me, Kim Gyuvin-ssi,” Ricky growls in warning. “You know exactly
what you’re doing!”

“I’m not doing anything,” Gyuvin says and most shockingly of all, it sounds somewhat
genuine. “I-you asked me to massage your legs. I am. What else do you want?”

Ricky lets out a little scream of frustration.

“Just fucking PUT IT IN ALREADY!” Ricky bellows, scarlet-faced, then turns around
immediately so he can bury his face in his pillow.

Oh my god. Forget public humiliation. This is going to be enough to send him to the grave.

“What?” Gyuvin says distantly.

“You heard me.” Ricky says, voice muffled into his pillow. He realises he’s now got his bare
ass in Gyuvin’s face. He’s just going to lie here face down until he suffocates. Then his ghost
will have the vicious satisfaction of watching Gyuvin struggle to enjoy the motherfucking
goddamn kebab while Ricky’s dead body is next to him.

He feels pressure on his shoulder, Gyuvin trying to turn his face to the side. Ricky lets
Gyuvin turns his face to the side so he can peer up at him.

“Say that again, Kim Ricky,” Gyuvin breathes and if he had been hungry before, now he’s
famished. “Repeat it for me. What. What do you want me to do.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Ricky says, burying his face back into his pillow.

The bed dips as Gyuvin sits down on the side and simply hooks his hands under Ricky’s
armpits and hauls, pulling Ricky into lying across his lap.

“I know that’s not what you said,” Gyuvin says, head hanging so low that fronds of his
hairbrush Ricky’s forehead. He still looks good even from below, when his face is upside
down like this. “Please. This is important.”

“Do like watching me humiliate myself?” Ricky says, feeling any of that horny bravado left
dry up. Resentment, anger and shame are setting in. His dick is curling in on itself in
embarrassment too.

“I’m begging you, Kim Ricky.”

Well, that changes things.

“You’re begging, are you?” Ricky says. He hates how he’s immediately perked up. “You’re
begging me?”
“That’s right,” Gyuvin says quickly. “So say it again.”

What gives?

“Fucking put it in,” Ricky reiterates. “Just put your goddamn dick inside me and fuck me,
you asshole.”

“It’ll be your asshole though, won’t it?” Gyuvin quips, a massive grin spreading across his
face. “You want me to fuck you, Ricky?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t know,” Ricky mutters, squeezing his eyes shut. Now he’s said it
again, he really wants to die. He rolls to the side, trying to hide his face in Gyuvin’s tummy.

“I just needed you to say it,” Gyuvin breathes, not letting Ricky burrow away in his
bellybutton. “I needed to hear it for real.”

He leans down and finally, fucking finally, kisses Ricky. It’s tender and soft. It feels beautiful.

It’s also not enough.

Ricky, renewed with strength, rolls of Gyuvin’s lap and latches onto him enthusiastically,
kissing him furiously. Every atom of him is desperate with need. Gyuvin’s head makes a faint
clunk as it hits the headboard from the force with which Ricky pounces on him. Gyuvin
matches his energy, returning his kiss fervently, gripping onto Ricky’s butt for dear life just to
stabilise himself against the headboard.

“Gyuvin,” Ricky breathes when they pause for breath, panting as his lungs scream for relief
and he has to sit back to gasp for air. He had not remembered to breathe at all. Ricky surveys
the damage he’s done. Gyuvin’s lips plumped up from where Ricky’s sunken his teeth into
his, out of accidental desperation, hair sticking out like a bird’s nest.

Gyuvin looks like thoroughly wrecked, breathing just as heavily as Ricky. For a few seconds
they breathe in tandem, even their hearts seemingly synchronised.

“I-” Gyvin starts and Ricky shushes him with a kiss. He doesn’t want too much talking. He
doesn’t want any discussion, anything that could break the spell.

“Don’t say anything,” Ricky says, still keeping a finger pressed to Gyuvin’s lips. “Just feel.”

“No, I mean,” Gyuvin says, lips moving against Ricky’s lips. “Do you need me too, like, prep
you?”

His tongue snakes out of the corner of his mouth, sucking on the tip of Ricky’s finger. Ricky
is fascinated by how impossibly hot it is.

“Yes, like last time,” Ricky says, getting off the bed. His legs feel like jelly. He can’t believe
this is finally happening. About time. In hindsight, it had been a long time coming. They
would have gone all the way eventually.
He staggers over to his suitcase and blindly scrabbles around for the lube and condoms that
he packed, pulling them out triumphantly, tossing the packets into Gyuvin’s laps.

“Don’t say anything,” Ricky instructs him, before lying back down. “Just get on with it.”

It’s not Gyuvin’s first time fingering him, so Ricky is pretty relaxed. That makes it easier for
both of them. Gyuvin rips the sachet open, and Ricky’s dick has visceral reaction to the
sound. He hasn’t even touched himself this entire time, but he’s been so wet his precome is
shining from where it’s been smeared all over Gyuvin’s abs.

“Let me know if it hurts at all,” Gyuvin says and then Ricky feels warm fingers encircle his
hole. There’s less hesitation this time and Gyuvin gets to it, pushing one finger up to the
knuckle past Ricky’s rim.

He can’t help but let out a gasp, even though it’s barely anything. Ricky has to blame it on
something. The heat. Ah, fuck the heat. It’s obviously because of Gyuvin.

That’s why he feels like this, a trembling wreck when Gyuvin only has him speared on one
finger. Seeing how enthusiastic Ricky’s response is, Gyuvin adds a second.

Ricky pushes back against him with small needy moans as Gyuvin nudges three thick fingers
against his prostate. You know what it is too. He hasn’t had sex in months. Like, full-on
penetrative sex. Aside from Ricky’s own hand (and a grateful nod to the vibrator hidden deep
in his wardrobe), that one time with Gyuvin had been the only occasion.

“I feel like you’re getting used to this really fast,” Gyuvin sounds like he’s in awe, as Ricky’s
there with both hands pressed over his mouth, drooling into his palm. “Is it because you’ve
been horny ever since we had the massage?”

“You knew?” Ricky says, garbled.

Gyuvin adds one more finger and the stretch burns so deliciously that Ricky lets out a
punctuated gasp.

“I know you, Kim Ricky,” Gyuvin says in exasperation. “You took far too long to turn around
earlier.”

Why is that Gyuvin can read him like a book, but Ricky’s still here performing psychological
analysis on what’s going on in Gyuvin’s head, and he’s none the wiser.

“So if you know me,” Ricky bites out, “You know how badly I need you inside me.”

“Holy shit, Ricky,” Gyuvin says, pulling his fingers slowly out of Ricky with a wet squelch.
“Let me live.”

Ricky blinks at Gyuvin slowly and watches through half-open eyes as Gyuvin wrangles with
the condom packet unsuccessfully.

“My fingers are slippery from the lube,” Gyuvin complains, still scrabbling with the plastic
edge of the packet. He tosses a few packets to Ricky. “Help me out please.”
Ricky had been planning on sinking further and further into the mattress until Gyuvin was
ready, but he sees that he’s needed here. He’d been so preoccupied by the thoughts of getting
dicked down that foreplay hadn’t really been on his mind. Gyuvin still has his boxers on and
when he sits down on the bed, Ricky can see the tip of his dick poking out of his boxers. A
grower and a shower.

He briefly envisions what’s going to happen next and almost combusts on the spot.

“Get naked,” Ricky demands, ripping the condom packet open with practiced ease. Gyuvin
discards the white vest and shimmies his boxers down his thighs, then kicks them off his
ankles.

Ricky lets out a low whistle, then shuffles across the bed. He takes Gyuvin’s length in his
hand, and feels it pulse hot and heavy as he rolls the condom over it. Gyuvin’s eyes are swept
shut and Ricky can see the glitter on his eyelashes; make-up smudged on his face from the
ferocity of their kisses.

Gyuvin’s dick bobs against his stomach comically as Ricky lets go and he lets out a giggle.

“What?” Gyuvin demands, cheeks red.

“It’s just cute,” Ricky shrugs and pokes at it, watching it wiggle around.

“Stop treating it like a toy!” Gyuvin says, looking utterly mortified. “Your dick is doing
exactly the same thing.”

“But the difference is I don’t care about it.”

“Why are you choosing now to be annoying, Ricky!” Gyuvin cries, reaching out for Ricky’s
dick in retaliation. He’s stopped by the sound of knuckles rapping smartly against their door.

“I have the delivery food for Mr. Shen.”

Not the fucking kebab!

If looks could kill, lasers would have come out of Ricky’s eyes and eviscerated Gyuvin on
the spot. All of his previously relaxed muscles tense right up again.

The two of them look at each other like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming lorry.
Neither of them moves an inch.

“You get it,” Ricky hisses under his breath. “You wanted the food.”

“No, you,” Gyuvin replies, standing in an awkward crouch. He looks like a fool. “They’re
asking for you. It’s your name.”

Neither of them budge, now locked into a stalemate.

Gyuvin looks immensely torn between the urge to stick his dick in Ricky or to answer the
door in a prompt manner, so the person outside doesn’t have to wait too long and start to
think they’re rude.

“Just leave it outside please,” Gyuvin says beseechingly after waddling over to the door.

“No problem, it’s outside,” The staff member by the door says. Ricky hears the distant sound
of plastic bags rustling and feels the tension slide out of him.

“So,” Ricky says sarcastically. “Are you going to eat that first…?”

He spreads his thighs apart as enticingly as he can, stretching at his hole with both hands so it
gapes a little more.

“…or are you going to leave me hanging?”

“Thank you, God, Jesus, the universe,” Gyuvin mumbles under his breath then takes a
running jump from the door, leaping onto the bed like a long jump athlete. The mattress is
memory foam, so at least it doesn’t let out a creak.

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” Gyuvin mutters to himself, now kneeling between Ricky’s
legs, looking at him reverently.

“What?” Ricky says, blinking at him. He hooks his feet around the back of Gyuvin’s thighs,
tugging him closer in. “Hurry up. If you’re fast enough, maybe you can eat your damn kebab
before it gets cold.”

“Screw the kebab,” Gyuvin says absent-mindedly. He appears to be distracted, not that Ricky
can blame him. He knows he looks damn good. “Can I-?”

Something nudges against his entrance, radiating intense heat.

“Please do,” Ricky tells him, right as his heart starts raring to go, accelerating to a hundred
beats per minute. The anticipation has him wound tight. “I’ve been waiting for so long.”

Shit. He wasn’t meant to say that.

“How long?” Gyuvin says abruptly, eyes inky black. He stares at Ricky unfathomably.

“Long enough,” Ricky says, hoping the panic isn’t evident. “Am I going to have to sit on you
and put it in myself before you-ah!”

Right on cue, Gyuvin moves, bracing himself by gripping tightly onto Ricky’s thighs. Ricky
feels the intrusion, the delicious friction of Gyuvin pushing in and bites down hard on his lip.
Finally. Fucking finally. The grip on his thighs tighten to a point that it’s almost painful.

He watches Gyuvin’s eyes squeeze shut as his head fully pops past Ricky’s entrance. Gyuvin
lets out a ragged breath.

“Are you okay, Ricky?” Gyuvin asks, turning to look at Ricky with watery eyes.
Ricky nods rapidly. Gyuvin’s big, yeah, but the hardest part is already over. He’s not gonna
lie, he had cursed every single deity under the sun as Gyuvin’s head nudged against his hole
and started pushing, but the urge to take Gyuvin had won out against the protest from his
asshole, screaming that this is not what it is for.

“You can move,” Ricky says, seeing the way Gyuvin is trying desperately to keep still.
Gyuvin relaxes slightly and Ricky feels him slide deeper inside until his balls are pressing
against Ricky’s butt.

He still looks as if he’s holding back from having a good time, which is not at all what Ricky
wants.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Gyuvin.” Ricky says hazily. He feels so stuffed and full that his
words aren’t coming out as clearly as he wants. He needs to provoke Gyuvin a little. “Are
you scared you’re gonna destroy my asshole?”

“What, no!” Gyuvin says, with deep crimson flush spreading down to his neck and up to the
tips of his ears. “It’s just that…well. When I was with my ex, they complained I was too big
and hurt them.”

“That’s not the case with assholes,” Ricky gives him a flat stare and wriggles to adjust his
hips on the bed. Gyuvin lets out a pitchy moan. He wishes he didn’t keep repeating the word
asshole. It feels terribly unsexy. “And I’ll let you know if it hurts too much, seriously.”

“You’re not the biggest I’ve ever taken anyway,” Ricky lies nonchalantly. Also, if Gyuvin’s
going to bring up his goddamn ex here, he feels entitled to a little goading to make sure he
has a good time. “So I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

It works a treat. Gyuvin’s gaze finally shifts from nervous and apprehensive to something
fiercer. He wants to prove himself now. He wants to make Ricky feel it.

Ricky feels Gyuvin drag against his walls, pulling almost all the way out before he slams
right back in, all the way up to the hilt.

A strangled cry is punched out from him by the sheer amount of force Gyuvin uses.

“Did you feel that?” Gyuvin says, eyes alight. He thrusts aggressively once, twice, three
times in succession, Ricky crying out louder each time. “I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t
walk tomorrow.”

It could be a threat or a promise. Ricky thinks Gyuvin might actually deliver on it.

“Yeah?” Ricky says, consciously having to pitch his voice as to not have it come out in a
whine. “I don’t believe you, bro.” That one’s for the weird slips Gyuvin’s been making all
day.

Gyuvin fucks into him again, hard, but this time, he pulls Ricky closer by the thighs so it hits
even deeper. The change in angle also means Ricky’s prostate gets hit better and he lets out a
moan.
The next minute doesn’t leave any clear memory in Ricky’s head as Gyuvin fucks into him
with abandon, his bony hips colliding hard with Ricky every time. Ricky finds himself
wailing brokenly, no longer in control of his vocal cords. The slight pain at the beginning
lends itself readily to pleasure and a wonderful melting sensation floods through his nether
regions.

When Gyuvin slows down, he’s sweaty as hell, face shiny with effort. A drop of sweat drips
from his chin onto Ricky’s belly. He slips out of Ricky, panting as he wipes at his forehead.

“Let’s change position,” Ricky announces, turning around onto all fours. “It’ll be easier for
you.”

Gyuvin nods wordlessly, still trying to catch his breath.

Ricky’s knees feel weak and jelly-like. He honestly isn’t sure if he can hold this position
without collapsing into a pile on the bed.

“Your hole,” Gyuvin gets out, sounding awestruck. “It’s all red and, like, gaping.”

“Thanks to you,” Ricky replies, wiggling his hips at him. “C’mon, let’s go again.”

“Thanks to me,” Gyuvin echoes. That must fire him up because he doesn’t give Ricky any
warning before he slams his massive cock into him.

“Aaah!” Ricky yells. He wobbles and falls down onto his elbows, unable to hold himself up
as Gyuvin pursues an unrelenting pace.

Distantly, he feels Gyuvin slow down and grab onto both of Ricky’s wrists. He pulls Ricky’s
arms behind him, using his hold on Ricky’s wrists to get the momentum he needs and fucks
upwards into him. Ricky’s upper half is pulled off the bed and into the air, suspended entirely
by Gyuvin’s strength.

His tongue is hanging out the corner of his mouth, drool gathering at the sides too as Ricky is
essentially speared on Gyuvin’s cock, feeling like Gyuvin is impossibly even deeper than
before.

He stares down with blurry vision and blinks, feeling hot tears drip and run down his cheeks.

“I think I can see you,” Ricky murmurs, looking at his belly. He might be going crazy, but he
swears he can see a very subtle outwards curve that shouldn’t be there when he’s got his torso
stretched out.

“What?” Gyuvin says, halting abruptly. He switches his grip so he’s holding both of Ricky’s
wrists with one massive hand, while the other hand caresses Ricky’s stomach, then pushes
down. Ricky jerks violently against him.

What a fucking strange feeling.

“I’m not sure,” Gyuvin says. He pulls Ricky closer to him, so he can place both hands over
Ricky’s belly. At this point, Ricky’s like a ragdoll, limp and useless. Gyuvin’s got Ricky’s
entire weight against him.

Gyuvin starts moving and with each thrust, his hands push down against Ricky, where the
bulge is. It creates that weird feeling again, which has Ricky trembling like a leaf. Gyuvin is
pressing into him to see if he can feel himself inside Ricky, he thinks absently. The concept of
this is so hot that Ricky moans even louder.

He reaches down to tug at his own cock, feeling like he doesn’t really need to do much before
he comes. He’s gotten pretty close a few times.

His vision swims as Gyuvin keeps going. He can hear Gyuvin whimpering too, letting out a
series of desperate noises. It’s like he wants to fuck Ricky so hard he turns him inside out.

Presently, Ricky realises Gyuvin isn’t just making random noises, he’s saying Ricky’s name.

“Rik, Rik, Rik,” Gyuvin is moaning with every thrust.

“Gyu,” Ricky attempts to respond, but it’s all slurred and barely comprehensive. “Gyu…
Qu…bing.”

“Hah,” Gyuvin gasps, hot air rushing against the back of Ricky’s neck. Ricky is sweating
buckets too, despite him barely doing any of the work. He can feel Gyuvin’s sweat as his
chest presses into Ricky’s back.

“Rik, I’m close,” Gyuvin gasps, still pistoning his hips with impressive speed. The combined
stamina he’s built up from baseball and working out has made him truly a force to be
reckoned with in the bedroom. Like, RIP Ricky’s butthole.

“Good,” Ricky says faintly, his eyes fluttering. The only downside of this position is he’s not
going to be able to see Gyuvin’s face. “Good boy.”

“Rik,” Gyuvin whines desperately, hips rutting with an erratic rhythm. “Ricky, please.”

“Come for me,” Ricky says, pumping his own dick and chasing his release at the same time.

Gyuvin goes still as he comes into the condom. Ricky lowkey wishes it wasn’t there but he
can feel Gyuvin pulsing inside him. That’s enough to push him over the edge too and Ricky
follows suit, vision blacking out as he orgasms harder than he has for a long, long while.

In the aftermath, they lay there for a few minutes in a sweaty tangle of limbs, trying to catch
their breath. No thinking about the implications of this just yet just basking in each other’s
presence, the revelation of knowing each other intimately in an entirely new way.

Gyuvin’s eyes are red and teary. He lies on his side and stares at Ricky, looking dazed, as if
he’s just been struck by lightning.

No one says anything, not wanting to break the peace.

Ricky instead kisses Gyuvin gently, hoping that none of his feelings are conveyed through it.
The pain in his chest returns three-fold and worsens to something excruciating as Gyuvin’s
 lips stretch into a slow smile in response, giving him a soft, dopey look.

This is truly the line of no return, Ricky thinks to himself. Part of him had been foolish
enough to believe that maybe once they fucked, these feelings might quieten down, now his
needs have been satisfied.

Gyuvin hops off the bed to tie off the condom and throw it away before it goes weird and
gummy, then gestures at the bathroom.

Ricky nods, too tired to fight back as Gyuvin scoops him up and carries him into the
bathroom. Instead of the shower, he goes for the bathtub, letting the taps run. His legs buckle
slightly as Gyuvin sets him down and Ricky has to hold onto the towel rack to keep his
balance.

Trying to destroy his desires have only strengthened them. The human heart is a complicated
thing. In setting a fire to burn down a single tree, the flames have caught onto the entire
forest, sparking a raging inferno that flickers from branch to branch, setting everything alight.
Ricky doesn’t just want, he now yearns with every fibre of his being.

The two of them climb into the bathtub, Gyuvin carefully holding onto Ricky and sit amongst
the bubbles without a word, seeking each other’s touch.

Rather than his hunger being quelled, his appetite has been whetted into something
monstrously endless.

It’s foolish to even try to think that all this will go away with time.

Ricky’s resolve is set. They’re not leaving Portugal without addressing this, addressing them.

Chapter End Notes

yeah so they finally did the deed. this chapter kicked my ass but i think it turned out
alright. i mean please lmk.

also i havent gotten round to replying to everyone's comments but please know i see
every single one of them and they always make me smile <3

also life update: i am officially graduating from medical school. this fujo is about to be a
doctor.
End Notes

this is a fake dating au but i also suck at keeping things short and there will be multiple
sidequests...hope you like the stories of 2 idiots in love.

please let me know if you like this, and i will try my best to be consistent with updates but no
promises hhhh

talk to me about zb1 on my twt: @besthonestliar

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