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If there was one thing to know about Gyuvin, it was that he was a giver, no questions asked. Whatever it was – hugs, gifts, compliments, advice, the truth – he was willing to give it to the best of his abilities. This was an unwavering fact; his friends and the members would frequently tease him for the very expensive (and frankly very over-the-top, considering the fact that Gyuvin could barely recall the special occasion) ring he gifted to his ex-girlfriend when he was thirteen, and more recently, the massive pink ring that he proudly presented to Ricky during his birthday live, glowing velvet box and all. Despite Ricky’s threats to land a punch on him upon receiving the tacky little toy, Gyuvin did not miss the endeared smile on his face that matched his own, which he knew was the honest reaction that he hid behind his feisty demeanor. To be completely honest, he was secretly sweating on the inside that somebody – the staff, Hanbin hyung, or God forbid, Ricky himself – would catch onto the desperate truth behind the grand gesture of his gag gift, but he’s almost certain that he was able to pull through with his usual obnoxiousness dialed up a notch to pass it off as a simple joke between friends. The fact that he was able to give Ricky such a symbolic gift, a joke or not, left Gyuvin feeling giddier than it should’ve—but he casts that thought aside and just barely catches the corners of his mouth upturning involuntarily at the mere memory of Ricky’s soft laugh.
He pulls his mind out of the memory and wanders his gaze upwards to where Ricky sits on his bed, one hand loosely gripping his phone and the other fiddling with the ring on his finger. He casts his gaze back down at the three hundred dollars in the shape of a Gucci key ring snug around his own index finger. The more he stares at it, the more Gyuvin has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from blurting out something stupid like, “Hey Ricky, I’ve always thought of us as best friends, but we have matching rings and all, so like…what are we?”
Gyuvin is extremely relieved when Ricky’s voice stops him from reenacting what could’ve been at the very top of his list of ten most embarrassing moments of his entire nineteen years of life.
“Teach Kim Gyuvin to say Ricky is a handsome guy,” He hears Ricky read a comment in Chinese – and Gyuvin barely registers that Ricky must be on live – before he’s being beckoned.
“Hey Gyuvin, I’ll teach you something in Chinese.”
“Sounds good.”, Gyuvin agrees, because he prides himself in being the best Mandarin speaker of the group after Zhang Hao and Ricky, and he’ll never pass up a chance to ensure his spot as the reigning champ (technically that makes him third best, but whatever).
“Ricky is a handsome guy.”
Gyuvin narrows his eyes, “I don’t want to, it totally sounds like a compliment.”
“No, but they’re nice words.”
If there was one thing to know about Gyuvin, it was that he was a giver, no questions asked. But sometimes, just sometimes, the evil whisper of greed tempted Gyuvin to tease and take before he deemed it worthy of a reward. More often than not, the victim of his whims was none other than Shen Ricky.
This is just one of those instances: Gyuvin is adamant on being difficult because he can, and he feels like getting on Ricky’s nerves. Ricky purses his lips a little and glares at him from across the room like an annoyed little kitten, and Gyuvin almost screams. He wonders what kinds of reactions he can pull from the other if he keeps denying him.
“Ricky is a handsome guy,” Ricky repeats, not relenting.
“Ricky is…not handsome?”
He honestly doesn’t really know what he just said, just that “bù” means “not” and that whatever Ricky is trying to make him say sounds like a compliment. Gyuvin can easily formulate basic sentences in Chinese, thank you very much. He didn’t earn his spot as Ricky's best friend for nothing; he put in his blood, sweat and tears to communicate with Ricky better when they first met at Yuehua all those years ago.
Ricky makes a whiny noise in response that sounds a little too much like a wounded animal. They both snicker after a beat, but Gyuvin can hear the pout in his voice that only makes him want to be even more annoying, because if he was being completely honest, he finds Ricky’s reactions absolutely adorable. (What? That must’ve been his lack of sleep speaking.)
“How do you say it? Ricky what?” Gyuvin tries again, shaking his head as if that would physically fling his strange thoughts away.
“Ricky is a handsome guy.”
Yeah, that’s definitely a compliment.
“Ricky…..is ugly.”
He’s only joking, because objectively speaking, anyone with eyes can see that Ricky was the most beautiful being to ever grace this Earth, and Gyuvin must’ve saved at least a thousand people and cured cancer and ended world hunger in his past life for him to be lucky enough to be able to call himself Ricky’s best friend. That definitely wasn’t Gyuvin’s personal opinion though. It was just a scientifically proven fact that Ricky was breathtaking as fuck. Totally objective.
When Ricky doesn’t quip back like he usually does by calling him stupid or uglier or anything of the sorts, Gyuvin quickly glances up to catch a glimpse of Ricky rolling his eyes with a smile playing on his lips – but he can sense the tinge of sadness in his carefully constructed expression.
“Alright, alright!” he hears himself speaking before he can even think, “Ricky…is a handsome guy.”
“That's right,” Ricky’s smile morphs into something more genuine, and he nods his head a little in response to Gyuvin’s cooperation.
“What does it mean?”
“Oh…your Chinese is good,” Ricky suddenly deflects, and it's so obvious, but Gyuvin can’t help but preen at the compliment.
“Really?”
“I mean- no, yeah…” Ricky mumbles while shifting the angle of his phone as he checks himself out on his screen, refusing to spare even a glance in Gyuvin’s direction. Ricky might think he wormed his way out of his inquisitive gaze, but he should know Gyuvin well enough to know that he doesn’t give up this easily; after all, Gyuvin takes being a pain in Ricky’s ass seriously like it’s his full time job that pays the bills and feeds the (imaginary) kids.
“What does it mean?” Gyuvin pushes again.
“Nothing. It's just…words of truth.” Ricky replies with a mask of nonchalance.
“You…what is it! Just tell me, what are you saying?”
“Nothing.”
“What does it mean.” Gyuvin cringes at his own desperate tone but manages to push through, “Kim Ricky, answer me.”
“Ah, it means, like, handsome…” he finally explains in a soft voice, casting his gaze down meekly.
But Gyuvin is doubtful, because seriously? He was acting all weird over a simple compliment? This cannot be the same guy that unabashedly films Tik Tok thirst traps for literal hours, banishing Gyuvin from the bathroom and subjecting him to an endless loop of Justin Bieber’s Boyfriend until he gets the perfect shot. Even now, Ricky keeps his gaze locked to his screen and refuses to meet Gyuvin’s eyes.
“I think it's something strange.”
“It's not.”
“Really?”
“Yup,” Ricky sing-songs, once again shifting on the bed. From the way he’s positioned now, Gyuvin can see all of his facial features: soft plushy lips and distinctive sharp eyes. The dorm’s soft lighting casts over Ricky’s features, highlighting the smooth unblemished skin of his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose. The silver cross hoop earrings in his lobes dangle gently, grazing the sides of Ricky’s jaw as he shifts. His eyes blink slowly as he concentrates on the screen – probably trying to read the onslaught of comments that flood his live – but Gyuvin is not too sure anymore because he’s too preoccupied with trailing his eyes across the soft edges of Ricky’s lips and watching as he darts his tongue out to wet his lips, and suddenly the room gets too hot, too small, too stuffy. He absolutely does not want to think of the implications of the sudden urge to stride over to his best friend, grab his face and make out with him on the spot. Nope. He quickly attempts to turn away before Ricky can catch his gaze, but his jerky action must have looked odd because Ricky calls his name softly and tilts his head a little as if to ask if he’s okay. All Gyuvin can do is to offer him a weak smile before squeezing his eyes and pointedly ignoring the image of Ricky’s mouth burned into his retina.
Gyuvin stays in that position for a while, trying to redirect his mind away from his best friend. He knows his efforts are useless when he catches his thoughts wandering back to the way Ricky’s slender fingers combed through his blonde hair, no longer styled perfectly but still retaining its volume thanks to the excessive amounts of hair gel it gets subjected to every day. He remembers how a few stray pieces of hair fell into his pretty face during practice earlier and how badly Gyuvin wanted to gently tuck them behind his ears whilst staring deep into his eyes, the other members be damned. Gyuvin lets out a frustrated groan at his own thoughts, which must have been louder than he thought because within a few seconds, he hears Ricky bidding goodnight to the Zeroses on his live.
“Yah, Qubing, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he shoots back, but he knows Ricky isn’t convinced; his voice sounds weak, even to his own ears.
“Then stop acting stupid. If you keep moaning in the corner while I’m on live, they’re gonna think you’re jerking off or something.”
“I wasn’t-” Gyuvin panics, his face and ears heating up at the sudden accusation.
“Well I know you weren’t, but they can’t see you from this angle, and you know how analytical they can be.” Ricky taunts, “It’ll be all over the news in seconds, ‘Kim Gyuvin of rising rookie group Zerobaseone caught masturbating on live’-”
Gyuvin whines as he launches himself at Ricky, slapping his hand over his best friend’s mouth to shut him up. Gyuvin faintly registers the small thud of Ricky’s back meeting the wall behind him, and he watches as the initial shock in his eyes melt away into something that looks like a challenge. His other hand lands square onto Ricky’s lap, stabilizing Gyuvin’s entire weight as he nearly bashes his head into the wall because he launched himself a little too enthusiastically in order to save himself from further embarrassment. The result? Gyuvin’s effectively trapped Ricky against the wall whilst hovering over him on his bed.
Right as Gyuvin begins to recollect his scattered sanity from their sudden close proximity and their very compromising position (if he had to pick between being caught like this by either Hanbin hyung or Yujin, he would choose the secret third option of packing up his belongings and moving to Sweden, never to be seen or heard from ever again), Ricky does the unimaginable - he leaves a wet stripe right onto Gyuvin’s palm as he licks it, topped off with a bite that leaves Gyuvin yelping and retreating his poor hand back with a scowl.
“Oh my God, Ricky, that’s gross, what the fuck is your problem?”
“You deserve it for calling me ugly. Have you seen me?”
Has Gyuvin seen him? Yes, he has. Many, many times. In fact, he thinks he stares at Ricky a little too often, and whilst he’d be able to list an infinite number of adjectives to describe his astounding visuals, ugly would never be one of them.
Not that he wants admit this.
Instead of providing a verbal response, Gyuvin dramatically rubs his wounded hand whilst glaring at Ricky through his bangs, which had fallen into his face from the sudden movements. Ricky just raises an eyebrow and smirks as if to say, “Well? Do you think I’m ugly, Kim Gyuvin?”, and Gyuvin gets the sudden unbearable urge to wipe the cockiness off of his face, stat.
Before he can catch himself, Gyuvin is slipping both of his palms against Ricky’s own and interlocking their fingers. He presses his torso against Ricky’s own so that he can ghost his lips over the shell of his ear before murmuring,
“I think you’re a really handsome guy, Kim Ricky.”
Ricky freezes under him for a solid five seconds before he attempts to cover his face with his hands, except he can’t because his fingers are tightly intertwined with Gyuvin’s.
“Gyuvin,” Ricky starts, but the words die on his tongue when his eyes meet Gyuvin’s, who pulls back just enough to stare at him intently with an unreadable expression on his face. The only way he knows that Gyuvin is just as affected as he is is by the red flush blooming up his neck. Caught in a daze, Ricky slowly reaches his cold fingertips to brush against Gyuvin’s heated neck, which elicits a shiver from the other. Holy shit, he thinks, before he uses his hands to gently guide Gyuvin’s face closer to his. Ricky vaguely hears Gyuvin’s breath hitching before he feels warmth pressing against his lips and belatedly realizes that Gyuvin is kissing him. It’s fleeting but sweet, gentle in a way that makes Ricky bashful.
After a few prolonged moments of heavy breathing and staring at one another, Gyuvin finally gathers the mush that his brain has turned into and breaks the silence with a very eloquent,
“Um.”
Nice. Way to go, Gyuvin.
But then the realization of what he just did comes crashing onto him like a bucket of cold water, and within milliseconds Gyuvin is scrambling off of Ricky and back into his own bed on the other side of the room.
“Fuck, Ricky, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I- I mean, I promise I didn’t mean to, it just kind of happened and I just thought-”
Normally, Ricky would let his best friend ramble on for the sake of making fun of him later. But this is not one of those situations, so he quickly cuts him off.
“It’s okay Gyuvin, I liked it.”
“I’m so, so sor- wait, what?”
“I liked it.” Ricky repeats, eyes wavering but ultimately landing on Gyuvin’s face with a determined look.
Gyuvin opens and closes his mouth like an idiot, unable to form a coherent sentence in response. Ricky takes his silence as a cue to continue,
“I liked it. Did you?”
“Yes! I mean, yes, I enjoyed it too.”
Ricky snorts at that, breaking the tension. “Enjoyed? What are you, an old man?”
“Yah, stop laughing at me!”
They both glance at each other and then burst into a fit of giggles, completely melting away the built up tension along with Gyuvin’s fears that he had possibly majorly fucked up his friendship with his bestest friend in the world.
“We should go to bed. We have a schedule tomorrow and the makeup noonas would kill us if we had dark circles for the shoot,” Ricky says with a yawn.
“Are we not gonna talk about it?”
“Gyuvin, it’s three am. We have all the time in the world to talk about it when we’re not sleep deprived,” and as if Ricky can sense his anxiety, he adds, “don’t worry, the fact that I like your stupid ass won’t change by tomorrow morning.”
Gyuvin is left there to process those words as Ricky pulls his blanket over himself, turning away onto his side. How the fuck was Gyuvin supposed to sleep after what just happened? He’s going to need at least five business days to reprogram himself back into a functioning human being.
“Oh, and one last thing,” Ricky adds,
“I think you’re pretty handsome yourself.”
Yeah, Gyuvin isn’t going to survive this.