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You really would’ve thought that for as rich as Ricky was, he would’ve stayed somewhere a bit nicer. Gyuvin meant this in the kindest way possible—truly. He thought this with the utmost concern, even if he hated Ricky’s guts. Deep down, Gyuvin’s kindness came from Ricky’s doorknob in his hands, broken away from its handle. And even deeper down, Gyuvin’s concern stemmed from him being stuck in the bathroom—with Ricky.
Gyuvin usually never set foot in Ricky’s house, but he shared his apartment with Zhang Hao, who was in a relationship with Hanbin and Matthew. Hao was hosting a Halloween party, and practically everyone begged Gyuvin to come. Well, not everyone, but about half of Gyuvin’s friends attempted to convince him. Once Hanbin got to him, Gyuvin reluctantly agreed. He was sick of telling everyone he didn’t want to see Ricky only for them to reply with a question about their relationship, or if they were dating.
Even though they were both freshmen, Gyuvin had managed to piss off Ricky every chance he got. They were only a few months into their college careers and Ricky already hated his guts. He would only respond to Gyuvin’s comments and jokes with sarcasm and eye rolls. Gyuvin couldn’t seem to please Ricky, no matter how hard he tried.
Eventually, Gyuvin gave up. If he couldn’t befriend Ricky, he decided he’d make Ricky miserable. Though he seemed to get the same response—no matter what Gyuvin did, Ricky would answer with short, snarky replies. Gyuvin was about done with Ricky’s bullshit, and he didn’t want to go to a party and deal with whatever he would put him through.
But Gyuvin would rather die than see Hanbin-Hyung upset, so after looking through his closet, Gyuvin figured Prince Gumball was doable with his wardrobe. Besides, Junhyeon had a fake crown, and Matthew promised to do his makeup. Nobody had to know that he threw together his costume in the final few days before Hao’s party.
Gyuvin could manage this. Ricky wouldn’t ruin his Halloween.
Then he showed up, and Ricky dyed his hair black, wearing a Marshall Lee costume, and Gyuvin wanted to commit arson—or murder, whichever was more convenient at that point. Ricky wore skin-tight ripped skinny jeans, complete with Timbs and his red flannel. His black v-neck showed off his chest quite nicely, and Gyuvin wanted to shove him into a wall.
“What the fuck did Ricky do to his hair?” Gyuvin hissed into Matthew’s ear, prying him away from Zhang Hao. Matthew frowned—never a good sight—and glanced in Ricky’s direction. Ricky was laughing, drinking from a red solo cup, and talking to Keita about God knows what. Gyuvin glared.
Unfortunately for Gyuvin, Zhang Hao only invited a handful of people, but he was an introvert—unlike his other friends. So no wonder four people asked Gyuvin to come since his group mainly coincided with Matt/Bin/Hao’s friends. If he had to guess, Gyuvin thought there were less than twenty people in the shitty apartment.
“Oh, that? Hao told me he was gonna help him dye it for the party,” Matthew said. He sipped his drink, but Gyuvin paid no attention—eyes monitoring Ricky carefully. How dare he? The fucking audacity Ricky had to go and dye his hair black—Gyuvin wanted to pin him against the wall to make out with him or choke him out, but both options stemmed from the rage festering inside his chest.
Gunwook had told him (multiple times) that wanting to make out with someone and knock their teeth in wasn’t normal. Only four people knew about the intricacies of Gyuvin’s Ricky problem—Gunwook, Junhyeon, Matthew, and his little brother, Yujin. Yet they all told him the same thing: he had feelings for Ricky, having a rival was gay, he was pathetic, etc., etc.
Gyuvin cursed himself for being gay. Gyuvin decided he could just cry in the bathroom and text Junhyeon about the whole thing, then return to the party as if he didn’t need a break to sob over his rival’s new hairstyle. He sighed and asked Zhang Hao where the restroom was.
“Oh, there’s one upstairs,” Zhang Hao answered, but he pursed his lips, furrowing his brow. “The door has been acting up, though. Ricky can help you out—”
“No, really, I’m okay for the moment, actually—”
“RICKY!” Zhang Hao screeched, catching his attention. Gyuvin felt like melting into a pile of bubblegum for someone to step on. Instead, he just sighed. He squeezed his eyes shut. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Maybe Ricky would disappear, too. That’d be nice, Gyuvin thought. That’d solve a lot of my problems.
“What’s up?” Ricky asked as he made his way over. Gyuvin opened his eyes, scowling. Black hair dye stained Ricky’s neck—not like Gyuvin was staring, but he also noticed fake vampire bites underneath his tattoo. Gyuvin gulped.
“Can you show Ricky how to use the bathroom upstairs? Y’know, the door ‘n stuff,” Zhang Hao asked. Ricky nodded as he spoke, but he was looking at Gyuvin. Was Ricky checking him out? No, Gyuvin was being delusional. Ricky was obviously trying to fight, considering his furrowed brow. Ricky tore his eyes off Gyuvin and patted Zhang Hao on the shoulder.
“I got you, Gè,” Ricky said with a smile. He motioned for Gyuvin to follow and turned without looking back. Gyuvin sent a desperate, pleading look toward Matthew, but he only shrugged and sent a reassuring thumbs up. Gyuvin groaned but followed Ricky upstairs nonetheless, jogging to catch up.
“The doorknob in this one keeps jamming on the inside,” Ricky explained as they walked up the stairs. Gyuvin trained his eyes on the floor instead of Ricky’s ass. Stupid fucking Ricky and his skin-tight skinny jeans. “I’ll come in with you at first just to show you, fine?”
“Sounds like you wanna see my dick or something,” Gyuvin said. Ricky scoffed, and though he couldn’t see his face, Gyuvin was positive he rolled his eyes. Predictable. Gyuvin smiled and laughed to himself quietly.
Ricky led him into the bathroom—cramped, complete with a tiny bath/shower combo and a counter with barely any room due to all of the products crammed on it, which was placed next to the toilet. Gyuvin maybe had a foot of space between Ricky and him—pressed against the back wall, Ricky’s back turned to him as he shut the door.
“Lemme show you how this works,” Ricky sighed. Gyuvin stepped closer, hesitant. He peered over Ricky’s shoulder. “So you just have to lift the door up, kind of? And you jiggle the doorknob and pull—” Ricky demonstrated, maneuvering the door until it opened. “—and there you go. You try.”
Gyuvin wiped his palms on his slacks. “You sure?” he chuckled, but Ricky only nodded him onward, stepping aside. They switched places, shuffling awkwardly.
Gyuvin wiggled the doorknob, but the damn door wouldn’t budge. He glanced back at Ricky, who raised his eyebrows impatiently, crossing his arms. Gyuvin tried again, lifting the door as Ricky instructed, but Gyuvin must’ve done something wrong because the handle popped off, sending Gyuvin flying backward into Ricky.
Gyuvin wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that the bathroom was too small for them to fall on the floor together, which meant Gyuvin ended up smushing Ricky against the wall. Ricky groaned while Gyuvin scrambled to get up.
“Jesus Christ, are you good?” Gyuvin asked, pressing his back to the (handleless) door. He stared at Ricky, wide-eyed, heart racing.
Though Ricky didn’t roll his eyes, Ricky didn’t cuss Gyuvin out or threaten to beat him up—Ricky slid down the wall and laughed. Gyuvin wasn’t sure if he’d heard Ricky laugh before—well, that wasn’t true. He’d heard it in passing, from the sidelines, but never up close. It was really, really nice—Gyuvin wanted to bottle up the sound to keep on his shelf. To cherish it.
“You fuckin’ broke it?” Ricky asked, taking a deep breath, not answering Gyuvin’s question. Gyuvin nodded slowly, and Ricky turned to the side to cover his smile, snickering. He brushed his bangs out of his face. His hair was down for the first time in his life (or at least, for the first time Gyuvin had seen it.) Gyuvin struggled to keep his fingers to himself, to run his fingers through the freshly dyed black hair. Without all the product and hair spray, Ricky’s hair looked soft—Gyuvin wondered how Ricky would react if he tugged on it. If he’d gasp or moan, or maybe—
“Thanks, actually,” Ricky interrupted Gyuvin’s horny internal monologue. Gyuvin swallowed hard and hummed, returning his attention to Ricky. His voice was soft, though a hint of seriousness glinted through the joking manner he presented with. “We’ve been needing a new doorknob. I can blame this on you.” Ricky paused, swallowing. He glanced up at Gyuvin. “Really, thanks.”
“Oh, you know me,” Gyuvin rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, laughing. “Can’t take me anywhere without breaking shit.”
Ricky laughed at that, his smile bright, sweet. He tossed his head back, leaning against the wall, his neck stretched out. Gyuvin’s chest tightened. Dizzy. Gyuvin was spinning, or maybe the room was. Perhaps it was the sickeningly sweet high that Ricky gave him, but Gyuvin was dizzy.
Maybe he was a little gay for Ricky.
Maybe Ricky would ruin Gyuvin’s Halloween, but Gyuvin didn’t mind all too much anymore.
“So… what’s our escape plan?” Gyuvin asked. He lowered himself to the floor and pulled his legs up underneath him. Ricky shrugged.
“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t have my phone on me,” Ricky said. “I’m the DJ. My phone’s with the speakers.”
Gyuvin snorted. “What about Bluetooth, dipshit?”
“The signal cuts up here, asshat. D’you have yours?” Ricky said, kicking Gyuvin lightly. Gyuvin felt around in his pockets and went quiet. He had planned on texting Junhyeon, but his phone must’ve fallen out when he ran to catch up with Ricky. Fuck. He remembered being too busy checking out Ricky’s ass, and then they were in the bathroom, and then the doorknob broke…
“I think I dropped it,” Gyuvin whispered. Ricky groaned.
“Dude, they can’t hear us up here. We’re gonna just have to wait.”
Gyuvin’s eyes bulged out of his head. “What do you mean ‘we’re just gonna have to wait’?!” Gyuvin cried. He curled into a ball, head between his knees. “What the fuck? We’re gonna be stuck here forever!”
“Says the guy who broke the doorknob in the first place,” Ricky grumbled. Gyuvin’s head shot up, and he glared, pouting. Ricky straight-up giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re cute when you’re mad, dumbass. You look like a puppy, like, it’s sad.”
Gyuvin hoped to God that the excessive blush Matthew applied, combined with the shitty bathroom light, could hide his flushed cheeks. Ricky flinched, eyes widening—and Gyuvin could tell he was fucked.
“I-I mean—”
“I’m sorry—”
They both spoke at the same time, interrupting each other. They stared.
Gyuvin was the first to break. He started laughing, head hitting the door lightly. Ricky followed suit—only egging on Gyuvin. He doubled over, clutching his stomach. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. And though Gyuvin originally planned to come to the bathroom and cry out of frustration, the bundle of overwhelming emotions no longer swirled inside his chest like a stormcloud. He no longer wanted to deck Ricky or knock his teeth in. Gyuvin wasn’t upset about being trapped with Ricky, but he was a bit upset that he had to have his gay revelation when Ricky was less than a foot away from him. He was sure Ricky could smell the vanilla perfume Matthew dabbed on his neck. Ricky could probably see how fast Gyuvin’s chest heaved, rapidly rising and falling with his quick heartbeat. Gyuvin could smell the vodka Ricky drank on his breath, mixed with the blue raspberry KoolAid that stained his tongue.
“You are cute, you know,” Ricky mumbled, staring softly at Gyuvin. He rested his head on his knees, neck forward. Gyuvin blinked at him, swallowing caramel. His throat felt thick—he couldn’t speak. Gyuvin just stared. His mouth parted slightly as if could say anything, and he could feel Ricky staring at his lips. Ricky flushed red, glancing at the tiled floor. “Forget I ever said anything, Gyuvin. Really. Let’s just forget tonight ever happened and—”
“What if I don’t want to forget?” Gyuvin whispered. Ricky’s neck practically snapped off, whipping up to look at Gyuvin, eyes narrowed.
“Don’t fuck around with me, Gyuvin. I’m being serious.”
“I am being serious!” Gyuvin snapped, retreating immediately, like a dog after biting his owner. He flinched at his own tone. Ricky raised his eyebrows. “I-I—What I meant to say is that I don’t… hate this. And I kind of like it when you call me cute.” Gyuvin mumbled the last sentence, biting down on his lip. He looked down, fumbling with the hem of his sweater. He tugged at a strand of pink thread, wishing he could unravel himself, too.
“You do?” Gyuvin could hear the smirk on Ricky’s face. He glared at Ricky, who just laughed, crawled over, and sat parallel to Gyuvin. Their arms touched in the cramped space, Ricky’s hand hovering over Gyuvin’s. Gyuvin flipped over his palm, intertwining their fingers. He felt the sweat on Ricky’s palm and giggled.
“I really like it when you call me cute, actually,” Gyuvin said softly, turning to face Ricky. His face was so close—their noses almost touched. Gyuvin watched Ricky’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed, his eyes fixated on Gyuvin’s lips as he licked his own. “You’re quite cute yourself, y’know.”
“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” Ricky teased. Even if that was the worst pickup line he had ever heard, Gyuvin nodded, a whine escaping high in his throat—and Ricky’s mouth was on his in less than a second.
Gyuvin gasped, kissing Ricky as if he needed to, like kissing Ricky was vital to his survival. Gyuvin squeezed his hand, and Ricky squeezed back three times, melting him like sugar in the rain.
Gyuvin could get used to this. He climbed on Ricky’s lap, pulling his unbuttoned flannel away from his shoulders. Gyuvin wrapped his legs around Ricky’s waist and tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, his other hand still entangled with Ricky’s. Ricky pulled him closer, pressing their lips together once more. He was desperate, rougher with his kisses the second time around— impatient.
Gyuvin gasped when Ricky bit down on his bottom lip. Ricky used the moment to slide his tongue across Gyuvin’s lip and slid his tongue into Gyuvin’s mouth. Gyuvin wasn’t prepared for Ricky to be a good kisser—but Ricky was hot, so Gyuvin figured he should’ve expected more from him in the first place.
“You make cute noises, too. It’s so fucking unfair,” Ricky mumbled against his mouth. Gyuvin giggled. Ricky pressed chaste kisses to his cheeks as Gyuvin laughed. With his free hand, he traced designs into the sensitive skin of Gyuvin’s neck, making him shiver. “Can I leave marks here? Is that okay, Gyu?”
Gyuvin was already too far gone on the idea of Ricky leaving marks on his neck—he whined, nodding. “Please, Ricky.”
“Don’t need to beg, love,” Ricky teased before leaving delicate kisses along Gyuvin’s pulse point. He licked a stripe along the tender skin, Gyuvin’s blood rushing to his head at the motion. Then Ricky bit down—not too hard, but hard enough to make Gyuvin yelp. Ricky smirked against his skin. He switched between lapping and sucking Gyuvin’s sensitive nape. Gyuvin panted, heart racing—the fact that Ricky could feel his pulse under his tongue only made it quicken.
Ricky moved to another spot, lower on Gyuvin’s collarbone. Then another. Gyuvin gasped at each new bruise Ricky left on his skin, each hickey he kissed.
But Gyuvin was getting bored (and a bit horny) as his neck became sensitive to touch. He whined and tugged on Ricky’s hair, mashing their lips together. Ricky whimpered into their kiss, and Gyuvin was sure the world could be burning around him, and he wouldn’t care. He was too focused on Ricky—how he tasted vaguely of KoolAid still, how he was beginning to sweat in the heat of the small room, bodies pressed against each other. Gyuvin had let go of his hand, gripping Ricky’s shoulder for balance instead. Ricky placed both of his hands on Gyuvin’s waist. His thumbs slid underneath his sweater, rubbing at Gyuvin’s bare skin.
Gyuvin was damn near close to popping a boner if not for someone knocking on the door. Ricky pulled away, head hitting the door with a quiet thud. He cursed silently, squeezing his eyes shut. Gyuvin held back his laughter with his hand.
“Are you two good in here?” Gunwook asked, voice muffled. “It’s been a while, and we thought someone should check on you guys—”
“Uh, Gyuvin?” Ricky muttered, staring at Gyuvin’s neck. “It looks like you got mauled—sorry.”
“Dude—what the fuck?” Gyuvin hissed, clambering out of Ricky’s lap to look in the mirror. Yeah, he was right. It looked like Ricky had devoured his neck. Gyuvin was bruised with blooming hickeys on his collarbone, tender markings covering the right side of his neck. Ricky stood up, placing his hand on the small of Gyuvin’s back.
“Looks good on you, though,” Ricky mumbled into the right side of his neck, and Gyuvin had to bite his lip to keep himself quiet.
“I can hear you guys, you know—” Gunwook said.
“We’re fine, Gunwookie,” Gyuvin sighed. “I broke the doorknob. I’m trying not to kill Ricky as we speak.”
Ricky snorted. Gyuvin turned and flicked his forehead lightly.
Gunwook was silent for a moment. “I have a hard time believing that, but okay. Do you want me to try to get you guys out?”
Ricky shrugged at Gyuvin, almost to say, ‘You’re the one that has to deal with the hickeys—you decide.’
Gyuvin simply offered Ricky his hand. Ricky stared at it—and grabbed Gyuvin’s hand, taking it in his own. Gyuvin smiled—gummy, tender, and so very sweet—and Ricky blushed. Gyuvin could get definitely get used to this.
“Yeah, let us out, Gunwook,” Gyuvin said and squeezed Ricky’s hand three times.
Ricky squeezed his back three more.
(Gunwook ran around the apartment, screaming about how everyone owed him and Matthew five bucks. Gyuvin couldn’t care less—he was too busy staring at Ricky to notice everyone coughing up their money.)