Work Text:
Gyuvin is not unloyal. He’s a shit liar with no such thing as a brain to mouth filter, which explains why he’d blurt out his plan of going to Target to find some hot guy in his political science class that makes him feel a little sick.
In the grand scheme of things, there’s no reason for Gyuvin to be pulling up his hood and walking around like there’s someone trying to get him. But he’s a Walmart employee, and while he only works to pay for his college education (so he can see the hot guy that he thinks is named Quanrui), Hanbin, the manager on his shifts and unfortunately one of his close friends, has a severe attachment to saving money and living better. He probably has a live laugh Walmart sign somewhere in his house, especially with the whole Target vs. Walmart beef circulating online. And, unfortunately, it’s not just an on shift thing.
Gyuvin peers his head around one of the displays, looking to see if the man he’s looking for is at the register. Quanrui wore a red choker to class once and Gyuvin had done so much digging (read: talking to his favourite Costco employee, Matthew) once he found out that he worked at Target. He needed to see the male in red.
“Um, hi,” an employee starts, making Gyuvin turn his head around, eyes wide. His name tag reads “Hao”, and Gyuvin thinks he also recognizes him from class.
“Hi.” Gyuvin responds. Damn, at least at Walmart they give out stickers. “I’m alright for now.”
Hao doesn’t look convinced, but the customer is always right. Gyuvin walks away from him awkwardly, now knowing that Quanrui is not at the register.
He tries the clothing section first. It’s not as open as the one at Walmart, making it an absolute maze to go through. He’s not sure he’ll find Quanrui at this point.
“Sir, do you need any help?”
Gyuvin turns around at the low, velvety voice, and chokes up when he sees Quanrui– Ricky, his name tag reads– looking at him. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted as he waits for an answer, and Gyuvin was right when he said that Ricky would look amazing in red.
Gyuvin’s staring. Ogling, even. He gets that slight feeling of wanting to throw up, with his heart beating faster. He has anxiety medications for this, for god’s sake, but his hands start to shake and he knows if he gawks at Ricky any longer, he’s going to start shaking his entire body and then he’ll have a panic attack and then he’s going to embarrass himself in front of his crush–
Gyuvin exhales. “Yeah,” he says, his voice coming out choked. “I, uh, need something in red.”
Red. Gyuvin is going to cover his nose and mouth in smiley face stickers so he can’t breathe and choke himself with a chord from the technology section. He should’ve taken his meds.
Ricky’s lips curl into a slight smile. “Right,” he says. “Is there a particular style you’re looking for?”
Gyuvin squeezes his eyes shut, just so he can stop looking at Ricky for a moment. “Anything,” he says, rushed.
“Anything,” Ricky repeats, slowly.
Gyuvin nods.
“Follow me.” Ricky starts moving, and Gyuvin opens his eyes to follow. He stares at Ricky’s heavy shoes, which make louds sounds against the floor, but the constant thud is enough to soothe Gyuvin’s mind enough to be back to normal and not as on edge as he was even once he walked inside.
Ricky shows him a few shirts, and Gyuvin nods along to his words. Ricky should be majoring in design with the amount of knowledge he has, but maybe it’s his minor.
Ricky suddenly stops talking, snapping Gyuvin back into the present. He looks at Ricky, completely unsure what he’s supposed to be saying or replying to. Crushes do not make the phobia any better.
“Um,” Gyuvin says, eyes darting around. He picks up a random red T-shirt that he has to make sure to never accidentally wear to work. “I’ll take this one.”
“Lovely choice,” Ricky says in classic customer service speak. Gyuvin realizes that he won’t get to hear his voice any longer and straight up panics.
“Thank y-you,” he stutters out, hands already starting to shake again. He knows that the number one thing he wants to do in situations like this is leave, but now he doesn’t want to.
Ricky seems to notice the shaking this time based on the way that the T-shirt is wavering in the air. He places his hands on Gyuvin’s arms, preventing them from shaking but not stopping Gyuvin’s heart from pounding any faster. “Take a deep breath.”
“Right.” Gyuvin takes a breath, but he chokes halfway through like he’s crying and has to restart. He needs Ricky to not be this close to him.
He just about gets the last bit of an exhale out before they’re interrupted by a voice that Gyuvin already recognizes as Hao’s. “Quanrui!” he yells, followed by something in Mandarin.
Ricky replies, letting go of Gyuvin, before turning to the younger. “Sorry, gotta fly. Always happy to help.”
Gyuvin shoves himself into the centre of one of those circular ranks, kneeling down so his head doesn’t poke out thanks to his long ass legs and he hyperventilates for a few minutes before emerging.
Gyuvin clutches his guilty pleasure purchase to his chest.
Hanbin doesn’t look impressed. “You’re late.”
“Am I late,” Gyuvin starts, “or are you just ea–”
“Your shitty Spiderverse references don’t have any effect on me.” Hanbin’s eyes drop to Gyuvin’s bag. “What’s in there?”
“Nothing,” Gyuvin answers, the slightest bit too fast. “Well, nothing that isn’t normal.”
Hanbin keeps his eyes narrow as he watches Gyuvin clock in. “The terror child will probably be coming in soon.”
“He’s not a terror,” Gyuvin argues. “He’s my baby.”
“He’s 16.”
“Yeah, a child.” Gyuvin throws on his Walmart apron.
Hanbin sighs. “By the way, you’re working register since you were late.”
“But–”
“You can serve smiley face stickers when you’re on time.”
Gyuvin huffs, pinning his name tag on. He makes his way to the register, where one of his coworkers that he doesn’t care enough to learn the name of grumbles, clearly annoyed at Gyuvin’s lack of punctuality as they trade off.
The first person that Gyuvin ends up assisting is Matthew, who looks at him with way too wide of a smile.
“Hi,” Gyuvin exhales.
Matthew grins. “You were at the forbidden red store, weren’t you?”
“Why do you know that?”
“Canadian Tire taught me to learn where everything is at all times.”
“Yet you’re never at your actual job.”
“Costco Wholesale loves me.”
Gyuvin remembers his own job at that moment, scanning Mathew’s items. “There’s… a cute guy that works there, okay?”
“Fork found in kitchen. Crazy stuff, Gyuvin. Every hot guy works a random retail job.” Matthew pays for his items. “You went there just for a guy? Weren’t you scared of cute ones or something?”
“Yeah, but I have to start somewhere.” Gyuvin hands the bag to Matthew. “Come again.”
“Visit me first.”
Gyuvin rolls his eyes. “Sure. Have a wonderful day.”
A few more customers roll in, Gyuvin glad not to be caught in the midday rush hour leftovers, and his line slowly starts to trickle down to the occasional person.
“Yujinnie!” Gyuvin practically cheers as Yujin slams his weekly regulars down on the counter. “My favourite child, how’s it going?”
“Your only child,” Yujin huffs.
Gyuvin frowns at that. “What’s up with you?”
“I’m just…” Yujin trailed off. “Shouldn’t I just pay?”
“There’s no line behind you.” Gyuvin doesn’t accept the money that Yujin places on the counter. He leans down to Yujin’s height instead, which isn’t much of a gap. “C’mon, you can tell hyung what’s going on with you. You know, when I was your age–”
“Okay, fine,” Yujin sighs. “I think I like someone.”
Gyuvin straightens up. “That’s it? You and I are practically in the same boat, then. Why does it make you so mad?”
“I don’t know.” Yujin rocks back and forth on his feet. “I mean, you know how much I’ve wanted to be normal–”
“Yujin, being demiromantic is completely normal. There’s someone you’ve hung out with a lot, you’ve gotten close enough to feel attracted to them, and that’s fine. Do they know you’re demi?”
“He knows.” Yujin’s face scrunches up. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.”
Gyuvin ruffles the younger’s hair, getting a scoff from him. “I’m happy for you, Yujin. You can try showing you like him? You know, being touchier, complimenting him more, or–”
“I don’t take advice from someone who tried to make out with Hanbin.”
“I was drunk and–”
“Gyuvin.” Hanbin’s voice breaks through the conversation. “You aren’t paid to stand there and talk, are you?”
“Fuck off,” Gyuvin mutters, finally accepting Yujin’s money. “Okay, Yujin, go get ‘em.”
Yujin presses mouth into a straight line, which Gyuvin knows is a smile. Directed at him, at least.
“One more thing.” Hanbin stares at Gyuvin. “I appreciate your love for the enemy, but maybe focus on here first.”
Gyuvin is going to kill Matthew.
Gyuvin gets to class and sits down early, like he always does, daydreaming about some place where he doesn’t have to see Walmart vs. Target TikToks on his for you page every day.
“Oh, hey!” Ricky’s voice cuts through Gyuvin’s empty thoughts. Instead of taking his usual spot in front of Gyuvin where Hao sits next to him, he slides into the empty seat next to Gyuvin. He smells like strawberries. “I didn’t know you were here!”
“Yeah,” Gyuvin murmurs, his throat going dry. He’s pretty sure that no medications or breathing exercises will stop his head from spinning and his heart beating out of his chest. “I’m, uh, definitely here.”
“I can see that, you silly goose.” Ricky ruffles Gyuvin’s hair, and the fact that he’s touching Gyuvin is a lot for the younger to take in. Ricky, as in Shen Quanrui, as in half of the kids in this stupid political science class have a crush on him Ricky Shen, is not only not in his usual seat, but flirting with the kid next to him.
Maybe Ricky’s not flirting. Maybe he’s just talking normally. Gyuvin hopes he’s flirting. Hao walks in, a mere few minutes later, squinting when he notices where Ricky’s sitting. He moves up the steps quickly, saying something to Ricky in Mandarin.
Gyuvin has never wanted to understand a language more, based on the way that Ricky giggles at what Hao says. The younger replies, Hao adds something, and Ricky blushes before smacking his arm.
Hao walks away after that, and Gyuvin doesn’t know what to say. “Um, what was that about?”
“It was…” Ricky shakes his head. “Nevermind. What’s your name?”
“Kim Gyuvin.”
“Alright, Qubing,” Ricky starts, fishing his pencil case out of his backpack, “don’t think I haven’t noticed that chewed-up pencil that you’ve been taking notes with.”
Gyuvin has to admit that the pencil he uses to take notes with isn’t exactly the prettiest thing. Still, he wants to protest, but the sudden nickname(?) and Ricky’s nimble fingers opening the golden zipper on the white pencil case stop him. He pulls out a mechanical pencil, one of the nice ones with a large grip at the bottom. Ricky holds it out to Gyuvin, and their fingers brush together. Gyuvin wonders how this looks– the Ricky Shen is just casually giving out free pencils.
Ricky very obviously isn’t aware of the fact that he’s everyone’s campus crush. Gyuvin watches people pass up the steps, looking at the two of them with envy in their eyes.
“Thanks,” Gyuvin mutters.
“Keep it.”
Oh, this is big. Gyuvin, Kim-just-some-guy-Gyuvin, gets to keep a pencil that belongs to Ricky-prettiest-person-alive-Shen. He will never chew it. He’ll have to buy another pencil case just for this pencil so that he never loses it. He might actually cry if he does.
Ricky’s hand rests on Gyuvin’s shoulder, and Gyuvin freezes for the ten minutes left before class starts. Usually, he’s not one to be that token annoying student, he and Ricky doodle on the edges of each other’s notebooks, whispering to each other with small giggles dotting between. Hao does glance back at them a few times, clearly wanting to say something but deciding against it each time. Gyuvin thanks him for it.
He also thanks Ricky for giving him his schedule, because one day he can stand in front of one of his lectures with a bouquet of carnations.
After talking to Ricky, Gyuvin finds him a little less terrifying. Maybe he has a chance.
Gyuvin hates Wednesdays. He has the most classes that day, starting early and ending late, and he works that day too. Thankfully, he shows up to his shift on time, and Hanbin decides that it’s only an award to hand him a sticker sheet and lead him to the front door. At least there’s a light at the end of this dark, middle of the week tunnel.
Hanbin sticks a motivational sticker to Gyuvin’s cheek, and the two of them greet anyone who walks through the door. They also start giving out stickers to any kids they see, Gyuvin smiling and remembering his dreams to be a social worker as he works.
Work goes… well. Gyuvin’s actually smiling halfway through the shift, though having a conversation with Hanbin shouldn’t be a highlight. Still, it’s fine.
Until Gyuvin hears a certain voice.
“Gyuvin?”
Gyuvin freezes, eyes wide as he turns to both Ricky and Hao. This is… bad. He stares down at his blue getup, name tag confirming that yes, it is him, if Ricky can’t tell by the way he’s starting to shake. He took his medication, for god’s sake, but this is completely unexpected.
Gyuvin looks at Hanbin and freezes. Hanbin looks between him, Hao, and Ricky. There’s confusion on his face, and Gyuvin desperately wishes that someone will walk inside or someone else will say something, because Gyuvin doesn’t know if he can say anything without bursting into tears over how pretty Ricky is. Even disappointment looks good on him.
“Welcome to Walmart,” Hanbin says awkwardly, holding out a sticker as a peace offering.
Hao is the one who snatches it up, saying something in Mandarin to Ricky with a roll of his eyes before pressing the sticker to the younger’s chest. It makes an interesting contrast against Ricky’s designer clothing choices. The two of them walk between Hanbin and Gyuvin without saying anything more.
Hanbin takes one look at Gyuvin’s face. “Do you, um, want to go to the back?”
“Please,” Gyuvin exhales.
When they get to the back, Hanbin has to wrangle Gyuvin’s anxiety medications out of his hands (because Gyuvin tries to shove 12 pills down his throat at once). He then sits through Gyuvin’s half-an-hour emotional breakdown, which consists of crying, silence, ranting, and a tad bit of screaming. Walmart doesn’t need greeters, anyways.
By the time the whole ordeal is done, Gyuvin’s eyes are puffy and red, Hanbin’s shoulder is damp with tears, and there’s snot on both of their aprons. “Thanks, Hanbin,” Gyuvin mutters, sniffling through the two words because he’s still recovering. “You’re a trooper.”
“Troop I must,” Hanbin replies softly.
Gyuvin wipes his snot off on his white sleeve, regretting it immediately. “I’m being so fucking dramatic,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“Gyuvin, you don’t have to apologize for having a fucking panic attack.” Hanbin pulls Gyuvin’’s head back onto his shoulder. “You’re already a little afraid of him, and I know that something that might just be a little secret can feel so vulnerable. Even if it’s something like this.”
“It’s just online drama.”
“I can tell it’s more than that, Gyuvin.” Hanbin pulls him in for a hug, and Gyuvin sniffles into his ear. “It’s general fear of fucking up. Actually, you should talk to Matthew about this. He knows what it’s like.”
Gyuvin draws back. He really doesn’t deserve Hanbin. “Thank you,” he chokes out before bursting into tears.
Hanbin brings the younger’s head to his shoulder again and rubs Gyuvin’s shoulder, whispering soothing words of advice and validation as he pulls him in close.
(At some point, Jeonghyeon, one of their fellow coworkers, walks into the break room to find them. He opens his mouth to speak, but Hanbin presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head. Jeonghyeon leaves promptly after that, understanding, and Gyuvin decides Hanbin doesn’t deserve half the shit Gyuvin gives him.)
Gyuvin stumbles into Costco Wholesale the next day, hoping that Matthew isn’t working at the register. He wanders through each of the aisles, watching the boxes of items slowly decrease in size.
He finds Matthew in the office furniture area, free cookie samples on a tray that he offers to every single passerby. When Matthew’s eyes land on him, he holds out a cookie as Gyuvin approaches. “Free sample?”
Gyuvin groans like a zombie and makes a break for Matthew’s shoulder.
“Whoa, there.” Matthew pats Gyuvin’s back lightly when the younger slumps against him. “More than a free sample. What’s going on, Gyub?”
“I blew it.” Gyuvin tries not to be too loud, because the people floating around the aisle looking for rolling office chairs do not need to hear about his heartbreak. “I screwed up and now Ricky is never going to look at me ever again because he found out that I work at Walmart and apparently Expect more, pay less is worth more than any sort of rela–”
“Gyuvin, you’re hyperventilating.” Matthew places a hand on each of Gyuvin’s shoulders. “I need you to breathe, especially because you didn’t take your meds today like you’re supposed to.”
“How did you know?” Gyuvin asks through sniffles.
“It’s quite obvious when you do versus when you don’t.” A small, almost bittersweet smile comes onto Matthew’s face. “Look, Gyuvin, when I worked at Canadian Tire, there was this really cute boy who’d come in every day. It was summer, so I had taken to working every day. We hit it off at the cash register and it seemed as though everything would be going to plan until I completely embarrassed myself in front of him.”
Gyuvin stays quiet, urging Matthew to continue.
“Now, I should mention that the day before, he revealed to me that he was only there for vacation, and he was going to leave at some point. So when I did that embarrassing thing—that I, as much as I love you, will not tell you because you can find it out yourself—I thought it was the end. I thought that was the last I’d see of him.
“Gyuvin, do you know who I’m talking about?”
Gyuvin shakes his head.
“It’s Taerae.”
Gyuvin’s eyebrows furrow. “You and Taerae did long distance?”
“It wasn’t that far, but yes, before I moved for uni. Point is–” Matthew takes one of his samples and eats it, and Gyuvin can’t bring himself to tell Matthew that he isn’t paid to do that because the older deserves it after his story, “gay men do dumb things in front of and for hot men. That’s just a fact of life, and we can’t control it. What you can control is what you do after. I fumbled my way through an awkward conversation with Taerae and ended up with his number. Now I know you and Ricky have some…” Matthew tries to find the right words, “interesting circumstances due to what’s going on online at this moment, but you just need to talk to Ricky and tell him that you don’t care if he’s a Nando’s employee or an underpaid, underemployed 7-11 servant. You just like him. And that’s fine.”
Gyuvin feels much calmer. “I see why you were employee of the month now.”
“Twice,” Matthew winks. “Now take a free sample and go get ‘em, tiger.”
The cookie is as dry as a Popeye’s biscuit eaten in the Sahara desert, but it gives Gyuvin confidence (and a bad cough that has everyone in his aisle staring at him) that he desperately needs if he’s going to set things straight with Ricky.
Gyuvin’s first stop is by Walmart to grab one of the spare vests, now wearing the logo and his name tag with pride, alongside his red shirt that he has hidden in a corner. The same one he bought at Target. When he and Ricky swapped schedules, they did so to know when the other was free, but they didn’t get a chance to actually meet up before Gyuvin fucked everything up. If he isn’t mistaken, Ricky’s going to get off shift in around 20 minutes.
He doesn’t have time.
Still, because he’s at Walmart, he takes the time to drop by their potted plant section. He needs to see if he can find the best flowers for Ricky. The thing is, he can’t find any carnations, and those are the only flowers that really matter to him.
8 dollars and one hell of a scolding from an (off-shift) Hanbin later, Gyuvin exits Walmart with the red shirt, the blue vest that says both Walmart and his name, and a potted cactus.
It’s when he’s halfway through the parking lot that Gyuvin remembers a few things. One, he has no car, two, Ricky’s Target is half an hour away by foot, and three, the bus he might’ve been able to get on just disappeared and the next one doesn’t come for another twenty minutes.
“Need a ride?”
Gyuvin turns around to see Hanbin, who has his car keys in his hands. He sighs in relief. “Are you for real? Like, are you going to–”
“We’re going to Target so you can hand a cactus to some guy that you’re in love with.” Hanbin starts walking towards his car, and Gyuvin follows behind quickly. “Matthew told me most of it.”
Gyuvin slides into the backseat so that he can set down his cactus and change. Hanbin rolls down the windows, puts on a playlist as well as his sunglasses, and peels out of the Walmart parking lot. Gyuvin strips off his shirt, changing into the red one. A snug fit, but it’ll work. At least Ricky pointed him in the right direction.
Gyuvin finishes getting his attire on, looking up at the road ahead to find an insane amount of backup.
“Shit,” Hanbin mutters under his breath, and Gyuvin is pretty sure he’s never heard the older swear. “How much time do we have?”
“Um,” Gyuvin looks at the time on the dashboard as Kick It softly plays through the car. “He gets off work in 10 minutes.”
“So five. Fuck it.” Hanbin turns his wheel sharply to the left, Gyuvin nearly screaming at the sudden action. “At least I know a shortcut.”
The road that Hanbin starts speeding down is completely empty, the fast sounds of the car quite frankly scaring Gyuvin a bit. Hanbin meets eyes with him through the rearview mirror. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Gyuvin replies, throat dry as he clings to the cactus.
“Took your meds?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Hold on.” Hanbin clicks his tongue, swerving right this time. Gyuvin has never seen this side of Hanbin before, and while it’s slightly terrifying, he can’t help but admit that Hanbin is a cool fucking hyung.
(And he still doesn’t deserve half of the shit that Gyuvin gives him.)
Hanbin pulls in front of Target with eight minutes (three, because who wants to work the last five) left in Ricky’s shift. He turns around to face Gyuvin, who probably looks completely shocked based on the way he scoffs.
“At least we lived,” Hanbin reasons, pats Gyuvin on the shoulder. “Just let me know if you’re coming home with me or Ricky.”
“Thank you so much, Hanbin,” Gyuvin replies, pulling himself out of the car. “Seriously.”
“I’ll be inside at some point.”
When he steps into Target, he can see Hao giving him the nastiest glare in existence from the register, as well as the weird looks from passerby, but he’s on a mission. He thinks of Matthew’s little pep talk, cookie included, and Hanbin’s comforting aura (that Gyuvin’s perception of had been completely destroyed in the last fifteen minutes).
He tries the first section he remembers– clothing. Sure enough, Ricky is there, organizing a group of skirts that Gyuvin knows would all look amazing on Ricky.
Okay, Gyuvin. Focus now, simp later.
“Hi,” he opens.
Ricky perks up at the voice, but glares at the face. “Hi.” He looks Gyuvin up and down, eyebrows only furrowing more as he takes in the red shirt, blue vest, and the cactus.
Gyuvin stands awkwardly with his hands wrapped around the pot of the cactus.
“Do you need any help?” Ricky deadpans, eyes on his wrist. He’s clearly tracking the minutes left in his shift.
“Nope.” Gyuvin holds out the cactus. “I wanted to get you flowers– carnations, actually, but there weren’t any at Walmart.”
Ricky’s face scrunches up. “You brought me Walmart flowers– well, no, a cactus?”
“It’s like a trade. I get a Target shirt and you get a Walmart cactus. Besides, cacti are all about facing adversity and being resilient. Especially when the circumstances that you’re offered.”
Ricky’s face softens, and Gyuvin makes a mental note to thank Taerae– who he needs to meet in person anyway– to help him with finding a plant with a good enough meaning. Ricky seems to be impressed by Gyuvin’s knowledge.
“Oh,” Ricky says, velvety voice exhaling the word.
Gyuvin starts to smile, taking a deep breath (he might feel a little nauseous with the intensity that Ricky looks at him, but he’s not full out panicking). He’s about to spew out his love confession before a shout from down the aisle interrupts them.
Both Gyuvin and Ricky whip their heads around to see that Hao and Hanbin are arguing with each other. Hanbin glances down the aisle at them, waving his hand at Gyuvin to encourage him to keep going. At least the argument gets contained.
“Right. As I was about to say…” Gyuvin sighs. “I really like you, Ricky. If, um, I didn’t make it as obvious as it felt.”
Ricky doesn’t say anything, but his expression encourages Gyuvin to say even more. “I also have venustraphobia, which is why I keep having a mental breakdown every time I’m around you.”
“Ah,” is what Ricky says. He finally takes the cactus from Gyuvin. “I don’t like cacti.”
“Oh.” Gyuvin can read the room. He knows where this is going. Ricky, undeniably desirable Ricky, worldwide-campus-crush Ricky, Target-employee-whose-shift-is-over Ricky, doesn’t like him back. The anxiety that had been in the back of his mind– what if he said no?– came to the forefront of his mind. “I didn’t expect you to, y’know, like me back or anything,” he starts overcorrecting. “I just needed to get that off my chest, and–”
“But I like the colour pink.” Ricky taps the pink pot of the cactus. “And this cactus is kind of shaped like a dick. And I like dick.”
Gyuvin doesn’t know what to expect when Ricky places the cactus on top of some skirts that he hasn’t yet hung up. “And,” Ricky continues, walking right up to Gyuvin, “I like you.”
Ricky’s lips come onto Gyuvin’s completely unexpected, his hands cupping Gyuvin’s cheeks. Gyuvin stands completely frozen, unable to comprehend everything that Ricky has just said and done. Is he planning on keeping the cactus? Because I have a little bit of a severe attachme–
Ricky pulls away, seemingly not hurt by the fact that Gyuvin has still not moved since the last time he spoke. “You have really nice lips,” he murmurs, a hand snaking around Gyuvin’s neck to tangle into his hair. His breath is hot against Gyuvin’s lips, as though he’s anticipating more.
“Likewise,” Gyuvin starts, but he cuts himself off to connect their lips again before Ricky can pull back farther. The older tastes like strawberries. Gyuvin brings one hand to Ricky’s slim waist, just above his ass, while the other takes its place on Ricky’s chest. Thank god it’s closing, because getting caught making out in the Target clothing section is not on his bucket list nor his bingo card.
When Ricky relaxes slightly, his jaw falling open easily, Gyuvin pushes his tongue into Ricky’s mouth. He tastes like strawberries, and Gyuvin wants more of it. He gropes Ricky’s chest lightly, and the highly inappropriate sound that Ricky lets out is enough to make the two pull away from each other.
Ricky is panting by the time they pull away, which has Gyuvin’s mind wandering. His lips are puffy and red, already falling apart from just a kiss. Gyuvin wants to wonder more, but then he remembers the store is closing and they don’t have time to be thinking about shit like this. Not now, at least.
“Fuck,” Ricky exhales. He straightens up, finally having caught his breath, picking up the cactus (Damn it, he’s keeping it, one part of Gyuvin sulks, but you also gave it to him the other says) and cradling it in his arms. “Thank you. A lot. Really.”
“Can we date?” Gyuvin blurts out, probably because borderline making out with his crush and making him moan has now affected his struggling brain to mouth filter, which already didn’t have a strong track record. In his defense, liking someone doesn’t exactly mean that they’re ready for a relationship. Especially Ricky, who seems to be everywhere on campus. Always. It’s not exactly–
“Of course we can, Gyuvin.” The way that Gyuvin’s name sounds rolling off of Ricky’s tongue has him leaning in to capture Ricky’s lips again.
Ricky pulls back, giggling. Gyuvin could listen to it on repeat. “Stop it,” he says weakly, punching Gyuvin’s chest lightly.
Gyuvin doesn’t “stop it”, kissing Ricky again. It’s innocent enough this time, less of them kissing and more of them just smiling with their lips bumping together occasionally.
“Shen Quanrui, please stop making out with your boyfriend in aisle 7 so that we can close.”
The two of them pull away from each other, Ricky glaring down the aisle at one of his coworkers standing at the intercom mic to perform his best attempt at yelling. “Chen Kuanjui, please mind your damn fucking business.”
“I am minding our business, because guess whose shift manager suddenly disappeared before closing without a trace?”
As if on cue, the phone in Gyuvin’s back pocket buzzes. As Ricky goes to help Kuanjui shut down the place, Gyuvin fishes it out to see a message from Hanbin.
비니형
» Okay nevermind don’t text me I hope your confession goes well so you can get home!!
Me
» you went off with hao didn’t you
비니형
» …No
Me
» aha
» well it went well so have fun!!
» and use protection
비니형
» You’re one to talk at the moment
Hanbin isn’t even aware that Gyuvin made out with Ricky while he was still on the clock, but it’s always felt like the older knows more than he should. Since Ricky is gone, Gyuvin takes off his vest and wraps it around his arm, picking up the cactus that Ricky has left on the table again.
Once Ricky returns to the clothing aisle, Gyuvin follows him like a lost puppy until they leave. He watches Ricky slip out of his work uniform and put on his ORGASM DONOR hoodie (“Why does it…” Gyuvin starts, trailing off. “It’s a fashion statement,” is what Ricky says in response, and Gyuvin already knows that you’re not supposed to question Ricky’s fashion sense), following him as they leave as well.
It’s Hao’s car and Ricky’s keys, but Gyuvin is the one who gets into the driver’s seat. Ricky rests his head against Gyuvin’s shoulder as they drive, and Gyuvin enjoys the late night moment until he realizes where he’s actually going– well, actually, the fact that he doesn’t know that information.
“Where are we going?” Gyuvin asks. Ricky stirs on his shoulder, and he realizes he woke up his boyfriend.
“Yours,” Ricky says with a yawn.
“We’re going to my tiny ass dorm?” Gyuvin lowers his voice now that he knows that Ricky is recovering from waking up. “And where will you sleep?”
“With you?”
“Ricky, as much as I’d love that, we’re both over 6 feet tall and those beds are tiny.”
“Please?” Ricky begs, the tone not quite fitting his voice but still making Gyuvin swoon nonetheless.
Gyuvin presses his lips into a thin line, trying to avoid smiling as he adjusts his direction to go towards the dorms. He glances in the rearview mirror at their cactus, which sits comfortably in the backseat, cushioned by Gyuvin’s vest.
They’ll make it work.
(And if Gyuvin ends up having to carry a drowsy Ricky inside only for the older to settle on top of him, that’s between him and Ricky. Especially if they wake up late for their Friday morning political science class and Ricky has to wear his ORGASM DONOR hoodie in public. That’s just between the two of them.
And Gyuvin’s friends, unbeknownst to Ricky it may be.
But mainly Ricky and Gyuvin.)