Work Text:
“Um— excuse me, but can I have your number?”
Gyuvin looks up from doodling in the margins of his notes to see a curly-haired brunette wearing the cafe’s traditional apron uniform, her eyes half-lidded as she wrings her hands out in front of her. Her hair is curled and she’s biting down on her lip a little — wouldn’t that hurt? — and, oh. She has a Pikachu pin attached to her apron, how cute. Anyway, Gyuvin swears that she’s seen her before, but where…?
Ah! That’s right. She was the barista that took his order a few minutes ago. Oops.
“Number? For my order? I don’t think it said anything… on the receipt…” His words draw out a little longer when he fishes through his belongings, attempting to find the receipt in question. The flustered look on the waitress’ face goes unnoticed by the man, and she hurries to correct him.
“No, sir. I mean, your number—”
Twirling his pen with his fingers, Gyuvin hums. “Well, I’m pretty sure it didn’t say anything on the receipt. Is there something wrong with what I got? I hope not.” Painfully dense, he casts a worried look in the girl’s direction. “Please don’t tell me you guys ran out of strawberries. See, I ordered a mango-banana smoothie and an Americano, but I also ordered a strawberry cheesecake, which my partner really likes, and y’know, he’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t get that cheesecake.”
“Your… partner?” The girl asks, both disappointedly and with no subtle amount of shock, but it goes unheard as the door to the cafe opens with a bell jingle. Gyuvin’s world seems to revolve in slow-motion when a blond man in a trench coat that swallows his narrow frame, complete with luxury sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, strolls up to his table casually.
Gyuvin and the waitress can only watch in awe as he slides into the seat across from Gyuvin, folding the sunglasses into the pocket of his coat and shrugging off the garment, revealing perfectly proportionate shoulders and collarbones to absolutely die for (yes, Gyuvin would.)
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, then realizes that he is, in fact, not alone with Gyuvin, his eyes briefly glancing up at the girl. “Who’s this?”
“Oh! She was going to ask me something about our order. So?” Expectantly, Gyuvin looks up at her. The waitress opens and closes her mouth several times — her eyes not leaving Ricky in his entirety, filled with a mix of wonder and pure indignation — before nodding with red cheeks and leaving in a matter of moments. “Or not.”
Ricky stares at him blankly. “Are you sure she was asking you about the order?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because…” The blond sighs, incredulous, and hangs his coat over the back of his chair. “You seemed to be in the middle of something when I walked in.”
Gyuvin sticks his bottom lip out in the way he knows Ricky hates, after two years of being official partners. “You jealous, Ricky?”
“Never in a million years.”
“Come on, baby. You can tell me anything.”
Frowning, Ricky reaches over the table to swat his hand and steals the notebook from Gyuvin’s possession, tracing his ring-garnered finger over the doodles. Gyuvin watches him and laughs.
Really, there’s nothing much to it if someone bothered to look into the records enough:
Kim Gyuvin, 24 years old, 6’1 with legs way too long for his body. Majored in sociology and minored in political science, back when he was still a university student, and graduated with colors not quite flying but good enough. Bisexual, thanks to a three-hour Skype call with his two brothers. Runs on social interaction and pure, unbridled love for existence (and energy drinks.)
Shen Ricky (Quanrui, formally, though Ricky insists on Gyuvin calling him Ricky), 2 months older than Gyuvin, give or take. He’s not quite sure what his personality type is but Gyuvin insists on him being C-U-T-E. Majored in business administration thanks to his family’s legacy, then met a certain brunet and jumped ship almost immediately. Gay— not that Gyuvin cares about the long list of boyfriends Ricky’s had, or whatever. Becomes the clingiest person in existence after midnight.
They became acquainted with each other about 3 years ago, when the two of them were still university students. Remarkably, it manifested at Hanbin (Gyuvin’s older brother) and Zhang Hao’s (a close friend of Ricky’s) wedding: just before the ceremony, the wedding rings had gone MIA. With the two men in distinct emotional states — Gyuvin was, to say the least, bored to death, and Ricky had enough of Hao’s whining— they combined their prowess and solved the mystery relatively quickly (Hanbin’s insane ex-girlfriend sabotaged the whole thing out of spite and jealousy. Gyuvin… kind of gets it. To say that Hanbin isn’t the embodiment of husband material would be a straight-up lie.)
Although the story jokingly ran through their families for a few months, it garnered them quite the reputation, and thus began their story as business partners (and a newfound friendship!) Their cases went from missing suitcases to stolen cats (seriously) to arguments over property, and currently, business is booming. The two of them are currently in the process of traveling across their home state of California to investigate the background of a decently-sized corporation's CEO. It’s not exactly what younger Gyuvin had expected as a job, but nowadays Gyuvin is happier than ever— he gets to meet people he wouldn’t have known otherwise, he’s able to pursue something he finds interesting, and he spends all of his time with Shen Ricky.
Oh, Ricky.
There’s nothing much to their practical history if a stranger bothered to look into their records, sure. But there’s one thing only Gyuvin knows (and a handful of other people, but they all signed Gyuvin-equivalents of NDAs regarding the matter): Kim Gyuvin is madly and imperatively in love with Shen Ricky.
“So,” Gyuvin starts, planting his palm flat on the surface of the table. Said table has now been effectively covered with food plates and drink coasters and Gyuvin’s notepad and various other things that they need for their case. “I’ve been talking to Wonyoung about maybe taking a week into the city to investigate further there. She knows a few people, so we’ll get cozy, ask them a few questions… Bam, case closed, background investigation done and dealt with.”
Ricky’s brows furrow; he bites into a small slice of the cheesecake, digging the fork into the pastry to cut off another slice. Leaning forward, he offers the fork in Gyuvin’s direction, and Gyuvin eats it happily, humming at the sweet taste of the strawberries. “Jang Wonyoung? Your ex-girlfriend?”
You know this already, Gyuvin wants to say, but he’s preoccupied with eating the cheesecake he’d ordered for Ricky.
Back in the day, Gyuvin thought that everything would start and end with Wonyoung. She pursued law and was rather good at it; they went together almost beautifully, two attractive rich kids with natural charisma. It came crashing down in a high-end store’s dressing room. Wonyoung was getting a dress tailored and Gyuvin was watching and then she said, “I’m going to break up with you.”
The thing is that Gyuvin was unfazed by this. He thought he was in love with her, but was he really? He didn’t know where the reaction was at the time and he still isn’t sure where it is now— all he could really ask in return was, “Why?”
Wonyoung, looking beautiful and perfect with her eyes trained on her reflection in the mirror, laughed something sweet, akin to the sounds of silver bells. “That’s why, Vinnie. That’s why.”
They’re still friends, of course, because she’s Jang Wonyoung, who is now a wildly successful attorney and model. (It maybe helps that her text messages with Gyuvin consist 50% of clothing advice and 50% Gyuvin’s voice messages of him crying over Ricky.)
“Yes, Wonyoung, my ex-girlfriend. I’ve talked to you about the situation a gazillion times! You saw her a month ago,” Gyuvin replies, taking a sip of his smoothie. “You always act surprised whenever I mention her.”
“It’s just…” Ricky’s voice tries off, and he stabs the fork into the cake another time to hold it up to his lips. Shit, he’s attractive. It doesn’t exactly help that Ricky kitten-licks the cheesecake residue off of the fork afterwards, leaving nothing to Gyuvin’s imagination. “It always surprises me that you’re so close to your ex-girlfriend, that’s all. Wonyoung is a cool person.”
Gyuvin laughs something amused. “I mean, my stance with Wonyoung doesn’t exactly affect our friendship, does it?”
A beat of silence draws out too long.
“… Does it?”
Ricky hurries to recover. “No, not at all,” he insists, offering another bite of the cheesecake to Gyuvin in record-time, but his pink cheeks don’t go unnoticed. Gyuvin swallows the sweetness with his eyes trained on the way Ricky downs the rest of his Americano with bashfulness. “City trip, you said?”
A good thing about being friends with a guy for so long is that Gyuvin is able to pick up on practically any mood change that Ricky has. He lets the cake melt on his tongue, pondering the question. “City trip, yep, just you and me. A lot of the stuff we do will be work-related, buuut…” He bites down on his bottom lip and pauses for dramatic effect to make sure that Ricky is listening— sure enough, the blond has his head tilted to the side in typical catlike fashion. “I asked her if it’d be plausible to go sightseeing a little, visit some stores… She said that as long as we stay on track the first few days, the rest of the time is ours.”
Ricky’s lips purse and he looks quickly at the ceiling in consideration. His brows furrow. “Stores? Are you sure? The city usually has high-end stuff, and you said that you hate how pompous all of the people seem.”
“‘Course I’m sure. I’m not going for them, I’m going for and with you,” Gyuvin replies all matter-of-factly, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, settled on the topic. Seriously, is it so illogical for him to accompany his best friend to look at whatever haute couture he likes? While he reaches for his mango-banana smoothie, the realization hits that they kind of don’t have anywhere to stay in the city. “Hey, do you know any good luxury hotels that have those cool sauna baths? Ricky?”
When he looks up, Ricky is staring at him with a look. Gyuvin isn’t sure what it is, but he can point out quite a few things: wide eyes, raised eyebrows, parted lips, and—
A smudge of cream. “Oh, let me get that for you.” Without thinking much at all, Gyuvin’s leaning across the table and gently dabbing the corner of Ricky’s mouth with a napkin. He studies the area with utmost care and attention before nodding, satisfied, and sits back down. “So, about the hotels—”
“You’re seriously going to those stores with me,” repeats Ricky, slowly. Didn’t we just go over this? “The stores that you hate because I take too long trying out colognes and you’re always forced to smell them off my pulse points. The stores where I pull you into the dressing room and make you model random items of clothing for hours. The ones that you, Gyuvin, allegedly have hated ever since you left home for college.”
“What, is it a crime to change my mind?” He levels Ricky with a look of his own: challenging eyes, equally raised eyebrows, and a crooked grin. “Like I said, we don’t go into the city often for the fun of it. I’m willing to do that with you. For you.”
Ricky stares at him a little longer, then digs back into the cheesecake. His fork prods against the plushness of Gyuvin’s lips until Gyuvin opens them and accepts the pastry. “Am I allowed to ask why?”
“No,” replies Gyuvin, but he answers anyway, “Maybe just ‘cause I want to. Have you ever thought of that?” The cheesecake fills his mouth with sweetness, pure bliss; he allows himself to admire Ricky from across their cluttered table, and wonder if the other’s pink cheeks have anything to do with him.
Initially, the Infamous Gyuvin Bisexual Skype Call wasn’t supposed to become some fucked-up online discussion about Gyuvin’s sexuality. It had really started with Gyuvin’s whiny spam messages in their siblings group chat regarding some problems he was having with communication, and Hanbin had messaged back ‘ please just call us I can’t read what you’re saying,’ and before anyone knew it they were forced into a Skype room.
Gyuvin, for one, practically shouted into his computer’s microphone without any regards to the other two members of the call: “Why didn’t anyone tell me having serious discussions was so hard!”
“What the—” Hanbin winced and visibly took an AirPod out of his ear to hurriedly adjust the volume on the device. “Gyuvinnie, what?”
Things would have been so easy in another life. But his brothers were far, far away, and Gyuvin was at home yet it didn’t really feel like it. The usage of Skype had hit him like a bus— they were truly separated as a trio for the first time ever. Hanbin lived with his husband, Gyuvin was staying with their parents for the time being after graduating, and Yujin himself was in his university dorm.
“It just is,” Gyuvin mumbled and frowned. There wasn’t much to say other than that.
“Hyung, be more specific.” Yujin was present for about two seconds before the sound of clicking keyboards and occasional curses returned. Without their parents hovering over his shoulder during break, he’d returned to his League of Legends kick.
“So… Ricky.”
Hanbin blinked. “Communication problems with Ricky? I thought your business was going well. What’s up?”
In the background of — based on Gyuvin’s limited view with Hanbin’s camera — the dining room, Gyuvin saw movement until one soft-looking Zhang Hao appeared next to Hanbin, the latter moving over to make space for the newcomer. Hao delicately plucked an AirPod out of Hanbin’s ear and leaned in towards the camera, only to say, “Are you talking shit about Ricky?”
“Language,” Yujin deadpanned.
Gyuvin shook his head frantically. “What? I’d never talk shit about Ricky!”
“Aw, what a shame. I’d join in. He’s dense as— actually, you’re both dense,” Hao had responded rather bluntly, accompanied by sticking his bottom lip out in a pout. “Get your act together, okay? It physically pains me to see you two running in circles. Anyways, Hanbin, I’m going out for brunch with Kuanjui.”
“Okay, honey.” Hanbin happily accepted a kiss on the forehead from his spouse, who gave the AirPod back and directed something of a glare to the camera before leaving. Gyuvin thought it was simply unfair how Zhang Hao dropped “get your act together” and then left without an explanation.
“Gross,” commented Yujin. The assumption was that his game time with Ollie was over and he seemed to be finally paying attention to the call. “Anyway, hyung, what’s going on with Ricky?”
“Just— he’s so stubborn,” Gyuvin groans. “He keeps rejecting my, uh, concerns. It’s annoying, I just want to see him happy.”
“What… kinds of concerns,” Hanbin very slowly asked.
“Well, after we solved a rather hard case involving me, him, clown costumes, and an inflatable pool — don’t ask — I took him out to a restaurant to celebrate and he seemed fine. Then, a week later, he started distancing himself from me and denying my gifts.” All thoughts of pools and clowns aside, the memory brought a frown to Gyuvin’s lips. He loved seeing Ricky, and the idea of distance if they’d become official work partners only months prior.
Yujin took a swig of his gallon-sized chocolate milk jug (where did that come from) and sighed. “Can you be more specific? I feel like we’re missing some crucial details.”
“He kept saying things like…“ Gyuvin paused and pitched his voice lower. “Gyuvin, you don’t need to come with me everywhere if you don’t want to. Gyuvin, I’m only going to the grocery. Gyuvin, stop clinging onto my leg when I say I’m going to the bathroom. Gyuvin, I don’t need a bouquet of roses for no reason—“
“What the heck are you on about?”
“I should’ve opted for the tulips, right?” Gyuvin solemnly nodded. Deep down, he knew Gunwook was right about flower choices, but he personally thought the roses looked a lot better against Ricky’s overall color scheme. “Yeah, I definitely should’ve.”
“No, no,” sighed Hanbin as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I meant, Gyu. I mean… Why exactly are you buying roses for Ricky? Not to mention the fact that you’re allegedly clinging onto him when he does anything. I don’t think I can recall a time where you’ve acted this way with anyone else.”
Gyuvin sat there with his laptop warm in his lap, and thought about it. The answer came to mind naturally: “I just wanted to do something for him. Is that so weird nowadays?”
There was a dull silence between the three of them in the call, then Hanbin quietly muttered, “Usually, only people in relationships act this way.”
“Wonyoung,” Yujin suddenly said. “Wonyoung-noona. You never acted like that around her.”
That, in all of its entirety, threw Gyuvin off. He swore that he and Wonyoung were the closest of couples. He remembered holding her hand during concerts, and being there for all of her Model United Nations conferences, and kissing her on the cheek whenever no one was around…
Ah. That was the problem, wasn’t it? He performed the bare minimum for her. Gyuvin felt a pain strike his headache— yeah, he deserved that. (He made a mental note to send a long apology in the form of a phone call to her later.)
With Ricky, he went above and beyond for reasons incomprehensive. There was a great pause in their call, where no one — not even nagging older brother Hanbin, who usually always had something to say — dared to say a word. The realization dawned on Gyuvin very slowly at first, then suddenly all at once; the pain in his head disappeared, replaced by a very blunt, god, I’m so stupid.
“So…” Gyuvin laughed a tad sheepishly, calling the attention to both of his brothers who wore matching fatigued faces. “About that bisexuality WikiHow quiz you sent me months ago, Yujinnie…”
More often than not, Ricky and Gyuvin’s ‘detective work debrief’ dates at cafes devolve into something more than just debriefings. Otherwise, there would be no reasonable explanation for Ricky scolding him over eating moldy bread loaves.
“Gyuvin, just because you toast the bread before eating it doesn’t mean it’s safe to eat.” Ricky massages the bridge of his nose, pinching it with his thumb and forefinger. For the first time during the hour (two? three?) that they’ve been at the cafe, Ricky looks properly muddled, especially for someone who has spent the last few years of his life dealing with Kim Gyuvin’s Shit (™).
Gyuvin shrugs. His smoothie’s nearly finished by now, so he offers it to Ricky and pushes it across the table; he deftly ignores the way Ricky’s lips close around the straw, the straw that he’d used to suck up the smoothie as well. “I got lazy! I already ordered food for the day and I didn’t want to order again. Plus,” he snaps his fingers, certain that the logic will shut Ricky up for good, “I live alone— my apartment, my rules.”
“I don’t know how Hanbin and Yujin put up with you when you were all children.”
“I’ll have you know that they loved my dirt cakes, thank you very much.” Truthfully, Hanbin hated playing pretend with him and Yujin: Gyuvin was always the chef and always gave Yujin more pretty flowers on top of his misshapen mud piles than he gave Hanbin. He wasn’t going to give Ricky the benefit of knowing that, not in a million years. “I’ll admit that I do miss living with them sometimes. I’m always out of the apartment, anyway, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling lonely.”
The most important acceptance of Gyuvin’s life was knowing that he is far from someone with superpowers. The “average” middle child since birth, and he’s nailed the part, too: he’s not an academic force of nature in the way Hanbin is (for heavens’ sake, he’s pursuing a PhD) , and he isn’t a jack-of-all-trades like Yujin, with his computer science prowess and several awards for painting and top spot in a national dance team. Gyuvin’s superpowers of sorts are his innate charisma and perfect looks and the fact that he did a sport every season. It’s nothing special, but he’s grown out of his personal insecurity by now.
After the words leave his mouth, though, Gyuvin feels something shift in the world and thinks that, maybe, he has superpowers, because at the back of his mind, he gets the feeling that this is a turning point in his life. He doesn’t know why, or how, and he knows that he’ll surely figure it out by the time he’s grown old, but he knows for a fact that it is an irrevocable consequence. Completely irreversible. Entirely significant to the life of Kim Gyuvin as it is known today.
Ricky opens his mouth, and then closes it. His tongue swipes along the seam of his lips. He looks at Gyuvin, then casts his gaze down to their table. There are empty cups and cheesecake residue on a plate and Gyuvin’s notebook and Ricky’s phone (flipped to the side where his phone case is visible— it’s a cute matching set with Gyuvin’s) and miscellaneous things, and their belongings mesh so comfortably, Gyuvin realizes, to the point where he doesn’t know where he starts and Ricky ends.
“You could just live with me,” says Ricky, effectively snapping Gyuvin out of his thoughts. The other bites down on his bottom lip, arms crossed over his chest, and he nods to himself slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, you definitely could, if you want.”
“Wait— what,” Gyuvin manages to say after a few moments of mentally popping open bottles of champagne and then wondering if Ricky is being serious. “Ricky—”
“There’s…” He’s nervous, Gyuvin notices, from the way that his fingers are tapping on his bicep, and the way Ricky’s eyes never quite linger on Gyuvin’s for too long. “I don’t know why it just came to me now, I live in a penthouse and literally have a spare bedroom that no one has used for ages. And, well, we’re business partners that come from wealthier upbringings, so rent discussions wouldn’t be a problem… It’ll solve your loneliness problem too. But,” starts Ricky, then he shuts his mouth again, wringing his shaking (shaking?) hands out on the table, tonguing the inside of his cheek.
It becomes apparent to Gyuvin that he isn’t worried in the slightest about the potential living situation— rather, he’s more than ecstatic. What he’s worried about is the fact that Ricky seems so nervous asking about it, especially after knowing each other for so long.
“Ricky,” mutters Gyuvin and reaches out to cover Ricky’s clasped hands with his own.
“It wouldn’t cause that many problems, no? We’re at the point where I’m comfortable seeing you every day. It is entirely up to you, though, I was just thinking—”
“ Ricky,” he says louder, and laughs. Ricky finally connects their eyes; for all of his designer clothing and hard stares and vivid blond hair, he’s making himself seem rather small. It should be a little alarming how easily Gyuvin is able to smile his best smile at him, the one that he saved for his mother and Yujin’s high school graduation and his 24 birthday celebrations. He takes his other hand and envelops Ricky’s in both of his own, breaking his tight grip in order to thread their fingers together. “I’d like to live with you.”
The other’s breath hitches, and he stares down at the table where their linked hands rest. “You aren’t joking, are you?”
“Unless you want me to be, and that’s far from what you want, right?” Gyuvin takes his hands away, but not for too long, choosing to lean over the mess of items strewn about their table and poke Ricky’s cheek to get his attention. “Obviously I can’t move in right at the moment, but… I’d really like to. I swear! Let me just get my stuff arranged first and all that.”
Ricky looks doubtful at first when he says, “Yeah,” but follows it up with a more self-assured nod. “Yeah, of course.”
Satisfied, Gyuvin leans back in his seat. “We’re good?”
“We’re good,” replies Ricky, then he smirks. “Seriously, someone has to keep you and your odd liking for moldy foods in check.”
He seriously can’t go ten seconds without making sure my life isn’t easy, huh? Gyuvin sticks his tongue out at him, pushing down the unmistakable butterflies in his stomach. I really like him.
Ricky slurps down the rest of the smoothie with an amused sparkle in his beautiful eyes (they’re a rather normal shade of brown, but he finds Ricky’s everything beautiful.) “Did you get here with your car?”
“Mm? No, I took the bus.” Gyuvin leans forward, resting his chin in his hands. “‘Sup?”
“Let’s go to that pet store near your place,” Ricky mumbles, mirroring Gyuvin and leaning in just so to reach out and gently tap Gyuvin’s forehead. He moves back and retrieves his coat from the back of his chair, slipping it on with practiced ease. “I want to see if they still have that dog that looks like you.”
Gyuvin frowns, muttering, “We don’t look that alike.” He still finds himself sweeping all their belongings into his leather messenger bag— it was a birthday gift from Ricky, actually, and Gyuvin doesn’t remember the last time he insisted on using a regular bag or a backpack. He gives the table a quick once-over, quickly bows to the waitresses (sorry for rejecting you!) and scrambles to follow after Ricky, who’s already getting out of his seat and moving towards the exit.
Their steps match in stride; Ricky pulls him in once he’s within reach, tucking his arm through Gyuvin’s.
“Wasn’t this about work?” Gyuvin wonders out loud, wonders when they’ll stop making excuses to hang out together under the guise of professionalism. “Just how much of our conversation was about work, Shen Ricky?”
“Please don’t pretend like you care.” When Ricky laughs, Gyuvin feels the aftershocks of his heartbeat, threatening to shatter the delicate panes of his chest. Ricky isn’t significantly smaller than him, but his hand tucked into the inside of Gyuvin’s elbow fills him with something warm— had someone told him Ricky was the manifestation of the stars in the sky, he’d believe it. “Oh. Gyuvin, are you going to drive?”
“Am I?” He can’t find it in himself to mind the sudden demand, attached to the feeling that Ricky induces in him just by existing. Gyuvin chuckles something fond, holding the door open for Ricky to pass through, and follows behind, his eyes memorizing the blond’s side profile to memory. “I always end up doing so when you’re around, anyway.”
“Ginger ale on the rocks, please.”
The bartender stared at him with an unreadable expression. “Sir, you mean ginger ale with ice, right.”
“Yeah, please. Isn’t that what I just said?” Gyuvin pouted, and watched the bartender let out an exasperated sigh, getting to work on his simple drink. It was way too early in the day to get wasted or pre-game— was pre-gaming even acceptable if the event in question was a wedding? Surely his parents would write him out of the will if he got severely intoxicated at his older brother’s wedding, especially when things are going horribly.
The grooms were in states of disarray due to the sudden disappearance of their wedding rings. Well, Gyuvin knew Hanbin definitely was. He was usually the calmer type, but he was starting to get snappy at anyone who dared question his actions, and Gyuvin hated when Hanbin got snappy. So, here he was at the hotel’s bar, looking for a way to escape the madness (and maybe do a little snooping around as to the rings’ whereabouts.)
The ginger ale cup slid down the counter just as someone took the seat next to him. Gyuvin raised the cup to his lips and eyes the stranger with interest. He was not expecting to meet the hottest guy in the entire state of California and possibly the entire world. (He’s straight, but he can appreciate a good-looking guy, can’t he?)
The first thing that Gyuvin noticed was the impressive blond of his hair, clearly bleached but not to the point where it’s unattractive. There was also a tattoo on the side of his neck, reading out the words ‘role model.’ He wore the same suit that Gyuvin was wearing, except in full white and excluding the suit jacket, meaning—
“Hey,” he exclaimed, catching the attention of both the bartender and the newcomer. “By any chance, are you attending Sung Hanbin and Zhang Hao’s wedding?”
In no time at all, Gyuvin is immediately being checked out by the blond man; he repressed the urge to blush after the other’s lips turned up in a small smile. “Yes, I am— whiskey sour, please,” the blond directed towards the bartender, then turned back to Gyuvin. “Oh. You’re Kim Gyuvin, aren’t you? One of Sung Hanbin’s younger brothers.”
The hot guy knows my name? Gyuvin grinned into his drink, putting it down bashfully. “Hell yeah I am. Where d’you know me from? I feel like I’d remember you if I saw you before.”
“Should I be flattered?” And he’s got a sense of humor. Gyuvin chuckled, causing the other man to smile— honestly, Gyuvin hoped that he wasn’t the only one sensing the immediate chemistry between them. They were getting along extremely well for two strangers in the midst of chaos. “Zhang Hao is an old family friend of mine: guess you could say he’s practically my brother. He was showing me some pictures of Hanbin and his family, and your face is familiar,” the other mumbled with a nod towards the bartender, taking the whiskey sour from his hands and taking a swig. “I’m Shen Quanrui. Call me Ricky.”
“Ricky it is, then.” Gyuvin extended his hand and was pleasantly surprised to receive a firm handshake in return. It was the textbook corporate boss handshake, the one that his dad taught him when he was younger. He’d have to bring it up to Ricky later. “Oh, shouldn’t you be with Hao, then?”
To his mirth, Ricky snorts. “ God, don’t even bring up Hao right now. I’ll go insane if I spend another minute in that hotel room with him.” The cup hung precariously between Ricky’s fingers, and the man seemed so calm about it. Gyuvin could only stand by in awe. “Kuanjui and Seungeon are consoling him right now, I think, and Ollie’s out allegedly looking for the rings, but I’m pretty sure he just needed an excuse to leave. But, uh. Zhang Hao yells whenever he feels any strong emotion. My eardrums were about to explode.”
Gyuvin hid his smile behind his own cup, nodding rather enthusiastically, because what the hell. This guy— this Ricky guy was on the exact same wavelength as he was, and they’d clicked surprisingly fast. Most of the time, it was Gyuvin initiating conversations then ultimately realizing too late that the other person was not paying attention to him.
With Ricky, though… Was it weird for Gyuvin to confess that he felt things would be different?
“Hanbin’s really just slowly losing his mind. Matthew had to usher everyone out of the hotel room, me and Yujinnie included, even though we’re his brothers. That’s how bad it got. So,” he mused, raising his glass up, “I guess there’s a reason why they’re getting married, huh?”
“Cheers to that,” Ricky murmured, lightly tapping his glass against Gyuvin’s. They both laughed, taking sips of their respective drinks. (The bartender had decided to stop eavesdropping on their conversation out of pure disgust.) “A crazy person needs an equally crazy person to level themselves out.”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t be mean. Hanbin’s not half as dramatic as Hao is.” Gyuvin might be slightly miffed with his mess of a brother, but he’ll certainly defend his name. “Plus, if you think Hao’s dramatic, you should have seen Hanbin’s ex-girlfriend. She’s, like… the worst person to walk the planet— I don’t even know how she landed Hanbin as a boyfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend? Tell me about her. I don’t have anything better to do.” Ricky stepped down from his seat, one hand shoved in a pocket and the other holding his drink. He motioned for Gyuvin to follow, tilting his head to the side in a way that made him resemble a cat. And, well, who was Gyuvin to deny a cat-like boy such a request? “Let’s go on a walk, Kim Gyuvin. My legs are restless from worrying about what Hao is up to.”
“Sure thing.” Jokingly, Gyuvin extended his arm to Ricky, and his heart skips a beat when Ricky actually slips his arm through Gyuvin’s. Ricky was, in fact, seemingly unaware of the moral dilemma Gyuvin was going through: is it incorrect to link arms with a man when you are straight and you don’t know if he is? Does he think I’m hitting on him? Must I act like all other straight men in order to avoid this conundrum? “Hey, maybe we’ll find the rings while we’re at it. We’ll get along pretty well, won’t we?”
Their drinks in hand, Ricky led them through the hallways of the hotel, a small smile on his face and his arm joined with Gyuvin’s. The experience alit something in Gyuvin’s stomach, curiosity bubbling in his gut; he didn’t know why, but he felt like his senses were on fire solely by sticking to Ricky’s side amongst the other oddities of their now-intertwined life. “If you want the serious answer,” Ricky told him, while tilting his head the slightest bit higher; Gyuvin observed him and laughed, feeling at ease for the first time in days. “I have a feeling we will.”