Work Text:
“Come with us tonight,” Euijoo asks in the morning, when Nicholas is still asleep.
“No,” Fuma promptly rejects him.
He tries again after a late breakfast, when all three of them have gathered in front of the play station. Nicholas supports him. “Yeah, come with us, hyung.”
“No,” Fuma rejects them. “Concentrate on the game.”
Euijoo loses first and continues badgering him. “Come on,” he whines. “You might just meet someone.”
“No.”
Nicholas is taking another nap when Euijoo approaches Fuma again.
“Please, Fuma-hyung,” he begs. “Someone needs to make sure I don’t run off again when Nico dances with me.”
Fuma doesn’t tell Euijoo that Nicholas had already begged him to come the day before, for similar reasons.
Fuma had moved in only half a year ago, when Taki told him about a free room in their shared flat. On the first day, Fuma had asked Nicholas whether he and Euijoo were a couple. On the third day, Fuma had asked Euijoo whether the two were aware of each other’s feelings.
Both of them had looked at Fuma in shock, stammering something about being best friends, and why did he think that, and had the other said something? And both of them had found him again a little later, confessing their feelings and making him pledge secrecy.
And since then, literally nothing had changed. They seemed to have gotten used to being the ‘two best friends in a room’ without ever actually kissing.
“Euijoo, you were planning to confess exactly four times before, and my presence never helped,” Fuma reasons wearily.
“It’s going to be different tonight,” Euijoo insists.
“Like the last three times?” Fuma raises an eyebrow, and Euijoo grumbles something, slinking off to his room.
He’s moved under the shower when Nicholas quietly sits next to Fuma. “Please,” he just whispers, picking at the fluffy blanket on Fuma’s lap.
“Nico,” Fuma sighs and puts down his book. He knows he has to be more gentle with him. “I do want to see you finally get it together. I just don’t see how I can help.”
“No, but,” Nicholas pouts. “You’ll be there.”
Fuma tilts his head.
“It will help,” Nicholas insists.
“How?”
“You can give me the final push,” Nicholas says, but it sounds like a question.
“I can’t do that. Either you’re ready or not,” Fuma responds.
“Well, you’ll be there when- if- if he rejects me,” Nicholas mumbles quietly.
“Oh, Nico.” Fuma’s arm comes around his shoulders, squeezing him against his chest tightly. He wishes he could just put them out of their misery, but it’s not his place.
But Nicholas isn’t finished yet. “Okay, final try: The kids are coming. You need to protect them.”
Fuma rolls his eyes. He hadn’t known that. “They’re adults...,” he trails off, and Nicholas immediately senses an opening.
“They’re babies,” he repeats with a sly grin.
When Euijoo comes back into the living room, Nicholas leaps over to him and raises his hand. Euijoo immediately holds his own up to give him a high-five. “Huh?”, he asks.
“Hyung’s coming!” Nicholas cheers and hurries away to put together his outfit.
“How did he do that?”, Euijoo questions Fuma immediately.
“You didn’t say Harua was going,” Fuma grumbles.
“Right!”, Euijoo exclaims and snaps his fingers. “Your one weak spot.”
“You’re not going like this, are you?”, Nicholas asks, frowning at Fuma’s oversized t-shirt. It seemed like as soon as Fuma had agreed, he could be cheeky again.
Fuma looks down at himself, shrugging. “Why not?”
“Because you’re hot,” Nicholas almost shouts. “What if someone catches your eye, and you’re wearing” – he squints at the print – “an anime shirt?”
Fuma runs a hand over his face. “It’s a game. And no one will catch my eye, Nico,” he groans.
“Let me dress you,” Nicholas says excitedly, his eyes curving up in excitement.
Euijoo giggles from the couch. “He won’t leave you alone until you agree.”
Euijoo himself has already gone through three outfit changes at Nicholas’ urging. He’s wearing one of Nicholas’ reformed shirts now, white with the sleeves ripped off, and a thin grey necktie loosely draped around his neck. The black pants have more pockets than Fuma thinks is necessary, but they look good on Euijoo’s long legs.
It doesn’t seem like he has a chance, so Fuma sighs in defeat and Nicholas jumps and runs into his bedroom.
“You know he’s been waiting for this,” Euijoo laughs fondly.
“I’ve got it,” Nicholas is muttering as he returns with an armful of clothes. He holds up a skirt to Fuma’s waist, tilting his head and throwing it aside. A tiny crop top is also discarded. “Layers,” he mumbles to himself.
“Wear this first,” Nicholas says and throws a simple white tank top at Fuma.
Fuma wastes no time and pulls his shirt off, while Nicholas shyly averts his eyes and glances at Euijoo. But the other is looking at his phone.
Fuma grins to himself as he slips the top over his head. When Nicholas isn’t looking, Euijoo will be. “I’m not going in this only,” he warns.
“No,” Nicholas agrees, “here.” He hands Fuma a light piece of fabric, in colours Fuma can’t really identify. He holds it up and sees that it is a sheer shirt with short sleeves and white details on the shoulders and waist.
“Hmm,” Fuma hums, aware that Nicholas is looking at him with pleading eyes. “Not bad.” He shrugs it on and buttons it up. It is dark enough with some splashes of colour to only be revealing if you looked more closely. And Fuma wouldn’t be letting anyone close enough.
Nicholas beams at him, tugging at the fabric a little and assessing him from top to bottom. “The pants are good,” he mumbles, approving Fuma’s baggy jeans and black belt.
“Done?”, Fuma asks, growing impatient. This was already 500% more effort than he usually puts into his outfits.
“Wait,” Nicholas holds up both hands. “Hair and accessories.” He claps his hands together and makes a begging motion. “Please.”
“Euijoo,” Fuma whines and looks over to the couch. “Stop him.”
Euijoo shrugs helplessly and makes the bracelets on his usually bare wrists jingle. “Sorry, hyung.”
“No earrings,” Fuma orders first of all, and Nicholas nods eagerly. “No makeup.”
“Okay,” Nicholas digs a little pouch out of the pile of clothes and looks through it. He blindly hands items to Fuma. “Index finger. Middle finger same hand. Here.”
While Fuma puts on a black and silver bracelet, Nicholas slips behind him and fastens a heavy chain necklace around his neck.
“Nicholas,” Fuma warns. “That has got to be enough.”
Nicholas comes around and nods, happy with his work. “Just do your hair like when you go to work, like up with the side part over your forehead,” he says and waves a dismissive hand.
Fuma has to admit that Nicholas has a clear vision. He is now turning to Euijoo, who looks at him with wide eyes when he realises he is being pointed at.
“You! Make-up!” It is not a question. Fuma leaves for the bathroom before the two start bickering.
This is exactly why Euijoo doesn’t like Nicholas doing his make-up. They are sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing each other, and he can see the frown of concentration on Nicholas’ forehead and his slightly open mouth while he gingerly paints Euijoo’s lips. He’s too close, he doesn’t like it. He loves it.
Nicholas suddenly looks up and Euijoo quickly draws his gaze away from his mouth. Nicholas’ eyes are lined with smudgy black, but they still look soft as he takes in Euijoo’s face. It’s not much better than the red tint on his plush lips.
“Really no eyes?”, Nicholas whispers, a slight pout in his voice.
Euijoo shakes his head minutely. He’s let him do it before, but it is too much. He cannot take feeling Nicholas’ soft breath on his face without seeing him. Not today, when he wants to keep his wits.
Nicholas blinks and bites his lips, drawing Euijoo’s attention there again. It feels like they are even closer now and he instinctively leans away slightly, but the distance doesn’t seem to decrease.
Euijoo becomes aware of Fuma leaning against the door, watching them with a fond and exasperated smile on his lips. “Fuma-hyung is waiting,” Euijoo whispers, and Nicholas startles, shifting back.
“Let’s go?”, Fuma asks gently.
Euijoo nods and gets up. His legs have fallen asleep and his knees buckle, but Nicholas’ hand immediately closes around his elbow. “Let’s go,” he murmurs.
Fuma has wedged himself into the innermost corner, right next to Jo leaning against the wall. He has a good overview of the club from there without running into the risk of being involved in any dancing or interaction with strangers. Not that he’d even take notice when they appreciate him or dare make advances. And for all their interest in his love life, especially their younger friends are strangely possessive of Fuma.
Euijoo knows how good of a dancer he is, but he’s never seen Fuma dance ‘in the wild’, only studying choreos in the studio or occasionally their living room, if Nicholas needed help. But that isn’t what he invited Fuma for anyway, so he’s happy to leave him be.
Yuma and Harua come back with drinks, giving the most toxically coloured and probably sickeningly sweet one to Fuma. As long as he has that, he’ll probably complain only little.
Taki and Maki arrive with their usual flavour of chaos – almost tumbling over the dance floor, barely avoiding taking someone down and laughing all the way. Yuma watches them approach with equal amounts disdain and amusement, but Nicholas and Fuma immediately headlock one each to subdue them.
Maki struggles against Nicholas’ hold and eventually manages to hide behind Harua, while Taki goes on a kissy offense and Fuma pushes him off and onto Jo immediately. The flustered but giddy smile that appears on Jo’s face always manages to satisfy Taki in a way that calms him down.
“How come you’re here?”, Maki asks, stealing a sip from Harua’s drink over his shoulder. “You hardly ever come out, Fuma-kun.”
Both Nicholas and Euijoo freeze, unbeknownst to anyone but Fuma, who shrugs. “Modelling Nichol’s wardrobe, obviously.” He opens one arm and turns a little, and Yuma and Maki reach out to touch his chest. Nicholas looks absolutely satisfied.
Harua grins. “That reminds me I still have some of your clothes, Nico.”
“Don’t we all,” Maki mumbles, and it is true. Fuma is really only indulging Nicholas, but most of their friends trust him with all things fashion. This night, at least three of them are wearing clothes that he gifted or lent them.
And even on the spot, Yuma has already tugged one ring off Fuma’s finger and claimed it for himself, while Fuma’s given the other back to Nicholas, who only pouts a little bit about it.
“Haven’t missed them yet,” Nicholas drawls and waves Harua off. A little sparkle appears in Harua’s eyes at his easy nonchalance. How cool, his entire face shouts. Fuma and Euijoo exchange a glance, endeared to his admiration of Nicholas.
Fuma’s already paid for another round of drinks, mainly because his own was empty, when the music suddenly stops. The DJ had somehow failed to prepare for the changing shifts. The people on the dance floor continue swaying, but conversations are dying in the awkward pause.
Jo sighs, and everyone turns to him. “I should apply to be the DJ,” he mumbles, colour rising in his ears.
“You really should,” Fuma nudges him with a smile while the others nod. Jo has the most eccentric taste and always the perfect song for any occasion, not to mention his love for technology.
"We should go right now, actually," Yuma suggests and grabs Jo's elbow. Jo naturally struggles against him, sending Fuma pleading eyes.
Nicholas turns to watch the two DJs haltingly shuffling past each other, in and out of the booth. Yeah, he can imagine Jo up there, smoothly handling the transitions.
In the silence, they become aware of a little commotion near the entrance. A tall man is pushing through the crowd, whispers and murmurs rising behind him. Partly perhaps because he is wearing a long winter coat, but certainly mostly because he is very very goodlooking.
He lets his eyes wander over the entire room, easily towering over most dancers, and his blond hair shines under the club lights, framing a small, young face.
Yuma whistles through his teeth. “Who is that?”
“He’s coming over,” Jo notices. And indeed, the man is looking right into their corner now, striding across the dance floor without any regard for the curious club-goers shifting around him.
Nicholas moves right next to Euijoo. He sort of regrets making him look that good tonight. He was doing it for himself, not for anyone else, and he doesn’t like the way the guy’s eyes are sparkling as he makes his way over to them.
“What is he doing here?”, Nicholas suddenly hears Fuma gasp, and he’s never seen such genuine shock on his roommate’s face. But by then, the man has reached their little group, rushing past Nicholas and Euijoo and launching himself into Fuma’s arms.
Nicholas has also never ever seen Fuma stumble. Now he’s almost toppled over by the impact, but the other man holds him tightly in his arms, bending him backwards and pressing their lips together.
The music has picked up again, but Euijoo still feels like a hush remains fallen over their corner. No one speaks a word, and almost everyone is either gaping at the two or each other.
“Kei,” Fuma breathes out when he lets him come up for air.
“Hi,” Kei whispers back. He smiles brightly and leaves another small kiss on the corner of Fuma’s open mouth.
Fuma shakes himself out of his stupor and immediately grabs Kei’s hand. “Let’s go.”
“Why?”, Kei asks and tugs on his hand. He smiles into the round and raises his free hand. “I want to meet everyone. Hi!”
Fuma pulls him closer with a strong arm around his waist and whispers into Kei’s ear for an inappropriate amount of time. The rest of them can’t seem to look away and they are treated to an interesting emotional journey flashing over Kei’s face.
“Alright,” Kei mumbles, when Fuma has finally leaned back, fixing the side of his face with an intense stare. “It was nice meeting you. But we’re off!”
But before Fuma can drag Kei away, the newcomer suddenly reaches into their little group of onlookers, still standing frozen apart from Harua trying to avoid Maki nudging him, and pulls out Taki, who struggles half-heartedly.
Kei hooks an arm around his neck and pecks the top of his head.
“Hi, little brother,” he beams at him, and Taki automatically smiles back. “We’ll catch up later, yeah?”
Fuma puts a light hand on Euijoo’s arm. “Is that okay?”, he whispers to him and Nicholas.
Euijoo nods quickly, wide-eyed but smiling. He briefly wonders why he is also addressing Nicholas. And he should probably stop staring at Kei so much, but he can’t wait to interrogate Fuma later.
His older roommate raises a warning finger. “Don’t come home too soon.” Euijoo probably grins enough for the both of them, and he can feel Nicholas’ eyes on his face. “Or better yet,” Fuma continues, “get a room.”
Euijoo splutters but before he can hiss something back, Kei has laid a hand on the small of Fuma’s back, underneath the sheer shirt, and gently but firmly guides him away, all the while sending blinding smiles to everyone.
It’s like the crowd parts as they make their way outside the club.
As soon as the pair is out of sight, everyone turns to Taki, who rolls his eyes and starts groaning.
“Spill!”, Maki shouts.
“He’s just my cousin, but we grew up together,” Taki counts off on his fingers. “He’s working in Korea for a year. Did you really think Fuma was going to SHINee concerts for three weeks?”
Harua’s mouth falls open, but Taki continues undeterred: “They’ve been together for years, I don’t know. Fuma just started showing up to family events one day.” He looks at his fingers in confusion. “Anything I missed?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”, Yuma hisses and reaches for Taki’s collar.
Jo’s broad shoulder conveniently diverts his arm, and Yuma resorts to swatting at him instead.
“I don’t know?”, Taki squawks. “Not my place? Not interested? You’d bother him about his love life even more then?”
“Hey!” Harua’s hand is too quick for Jo to stop. He’d been strangely quiet since Kei’s sudden appearance, and Euijoo can guess why. Harua liked to call himself Fuma’s favourite child after all, even though it was Yuma who’d known him before everyone else. Well, except for Taki, apparently.
Maki squeezes Harua’s side, and this time he doesn’t move away.
“That’s kind of just how he is,” Taki mumbles, suddenly apologetic for something that wasn’t his fault. “The first time I met him, he introduced himself as Kei’s roommate. It was Kei who told me they were together.”
“Wow,” Euijoo aptly summarises their shared feeling after another moment of silence.
“On that note, has anyone figured out Fuma-kun’s birthday yet?”, Maki suddenly pipes up.
“March,” Harua chances a guess, and Nicholas immediately disagrees: “It’s gotta be in winter.”
Yuma is turning to Taki again, who shifts to hide behind Jo. “I don’t know,” he shouts. “I swear!”
“Well, ask your cousin,” Maki retorts.
“Not now,” Euijoo groans when Taki whips out his phone, but Jo is surprisingly faster at stopping his hand.
“I can’t believe you have no game while your cousin is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen and dating Fuma-kun,” Yuma whines.
“I can,” both Harua and Maki say at the same time, and Maki picks up Harua’s hand to give him a high five while Taki huffs and puffs.
“Hey, if you’re related, will you look like him when you’re older?”, Yuma continues and asks Taki. “I might just unblock your number.”
Taki rolls his eyes again, unimpressed. “I see your notifications when I send you memes, I know you don’t actually have me blocked.”
Yuma shrugs with an easy grin.
“I can’t believe Fuma didn’t tell me anything,” Harua pouts, still not over it. “He always acted like a relationship was the last thing he was interested in.”
"I guess that wasn’t a lie for once,” Maki shrugs. “He wasn’t interested in a relationship. I just figured he was probably aro or something.” Jo nods along quietly.
“Ugh,” Nicholas groans. “And I was always pestering him about going on dates.” He’d always had that idea that he needed Fuma to date first, before – anyway, for courage.
He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder and doesn’t need to check to know it’s Euijoo. “Why is he like that, seriously,” Euijoo mumbles, just loud enough for the two of them, no real criticism of Fuma but more of a show of understanding that feels like it is just for Nicholas.
“Oh finally, at least we can dance to this,” Yuma cheers when a faster beat vibrates through the club. He is determined not to let the absence of their secretive friend dampen anyone’s spirits and pulls Euijoo and Nicholas to the dance floor by their wrists.
It goes like always. Euijoo glances at Nicholas one time too many, and Nicholas eventually turns to him, breaking up their little triangle. Yuma doesn’t mind – he has too much fun dancing around them on his own. The music is actually fine now, and he sings along lightly while Euijoo and Nicholas are doing their weird little thing. Where Euijoo will just exist, and Nicholas orbits around him as if caught in gravity.
He will mirror his moves, exaggerate them to draw a flustered smile from Euijoo, will sway closer until they can feel each other’s bodies without touching. Euijoo’s eyes do not focus anywhere in particular, while Nicholas occasionally glares over his shoulder, at people looking at Euijoo with a little bit too much interest.
It’s fun to watch, usually. But both of them seem tenser today. Anxious. Expectant. They get like that sometimes, Yuma would know. Nicholas cannot allow the sliver of space between them for long. He rests a hand on Euijoo’s waist lightly, letting the moves of his hips push and pull him.
It almost seems like Euijoo doesn’t even notice, gaze absently roaming over the crowd. But he drifts minutely closer to Nicholas, and he never lets him lose touch.
Jo eventually picks Yuma up with a polite but firm ‘Excuse me’, when a persistent stranger dances a little too closely to him, their usual routine. Yuma clings to Jo’s arm with a smile and lets himself be led off the dance floor and back to the others, not without sending a lingering smirk and eyebrow wiggle in their direction.
Then it’s just the two of them, like it felt all along. Euijoo is aware how they must look to everyone around, because no one is making a move on Nicholas, which was simply objectively unlikely. He’s gone for a chic, dark look today, a wine red dress shirt, silver accessories and black heels that almost raise him to Euijoo’s height.
He knows what they must look like to everyone around, because now he is only looking at Nicholas and Nicholas is only looking at him. He wishes it was like that. He is scared to try to make it so.
Nicholas registers Euijoo’s gaze on him. It feels different again tonight, like it sometimes does. Like Euijoo is discovering Nicholas all over again, eyes roaming from his collarbones to his glinting piercings. Euijoo’s full attention on him never fails to make Nicholas tingle from the top of his head down to his toes.
It almost spurs him into action. If Fuma had still been there, he would have given him the stern nod Nicholas had been hoping for and needed to make his fucking move. But he has left, and Yuma as well as Jo, his last rational hope, are watching the youngest three perform some sort of skit, judging by the amused looks on their faces.
He looks back at Euijoo, who is still staring down at him, eyes slipping down to his lips. Nicholas’ hand flexes around Euijoo’s waist.
Euijoo slowly lifts his arms and rests them on Nicholas’ shoulders, swaying comfortably. The weight is not unwelcome, makes Nicholas feel less as if he was going to ascend any second, and Euijoo’s skin feels hot against his neck. Nicholas never feels smaller than in moments like this, when Euijoo looks at him and it doesn’t really look like he is expecting anything, but Nicholas still wants to get it right, to give Euijoo everything he doesn’t even know he wants.
He puts his other hand on Euijoo’s waist as well, and his nails catch on the seams of his own shirt as he grabs it tightly. Nicholas can feel the shudder that runs through Euijoo’s torso, and their thighs brush against each other when they step even closer into each other’s space. Nicholas continues scratching Euijoo’s side lightly and sees how his eyelashes flutter when one pinky slips underneath the shirt and grazes above his waistband.
One of Euijoo’s arms suddenly slips off his shoulder, but before Nicholas can catch it his palm comes to rest on his chest. Maybe this is how it happens. There is no way Euijoo can’t feel Nicholas’ hammering heartbeat.
But that is when he himself notices the blush on Euijoo’s cheeks. He didn’t put it there, at least not with make-up. Euijoo seldom gets like this – not from alcohol, not from dancing. Only from Nicholas’ silly flirting, since the very first day they met in Japanese class. Nicholas hasn’t been teasing tonight. He means it.
Euijoo’s eyes are downcast, fixed on his own small hand above Nicholas’ heart. His cheeks are pink and glowy, and the club lights reflect on his glossy lips, and Nicholas watches to his heart’s content as long as Euijoo isn’t looking.
Not quite content.
He will do it. He will kiss his best friend. He will tip the balance, and nothing will be the same again.
Euijoo's face is suddenly much closer, though Nicholas doesn't remember having moved. He can feel his breath on his lips, smells the bright orange cocktail he’s had.
He has to do it right now.
“Heyyy,” Maki slides in next to them, and they startle apart. The youngest seems completely unaware as he blinks at them, red-cheeked and grinning wildly.
“Are you drunk?”, Euijoo asks. The tension is broken. Nicholas takes another step back.
Maki’s eyes sparkle as he drawls: “Nope! But we’re out of drinks!”
Maki had turned twenty a few weeks ago, but he was still happily sending the others to the bar to pay. “I think you’ve had enough, bro,” Nicholas sighs and pinches his cheek.
“Non-alcoholic is fine,” Maki chirps and skips back to their corner, where Harua is holding up two empty glasses with his cutest smile.
“Alright,” Euijoo mutters, unaffected as if all of this wasn’t very important to him, his touching, being interrupted, the way he’d definitely leaned in first. Nothing is not important to Nicholas, when it comes to Euijoo.
But he still looks up at Nicholas, now a safe space apart. “Come help me carry them?”
Nicholas follows Euijoo closely, a hand hovering over the small of his back, not daring to touch when he usually would. But he still sidles up close to Euijoo when they’re waiting for their next round of drinks at the bar. “So what do you think?”
“Hm?”, Euijoo absently smiles at him. “Fuma-hyung and Kei…-san?”
Nicholas nods curtly. His eyes are sharp, and he probably doesn’t even notice he’s sort of glaring at Euijoo.
Euijoo knows not to take it to heart. He tilts his head. “Also kind of sorry we always tried to set Fuma-hyung up, I guess.” But he shrugs and grins right after. “His own fault though, with his half-truths.” It still feels like a consolation meant for Nicholas.
“Yeah,” Nicholas grumbles, but he hasn’t quite gotten the answer to the question he never asked. “What about Kei?”
“Hm?”, Euijoo repeats. “He looks nice.”
Nicholas nods, almost satisfied, when Euijoo adds: “Hot, too.”
Nicholas freezes, ignoring the drinks the bartender is lining up in front of them. Kei looked entirely different from him. Euijoo picks up three, as many as his hands can grab. He nudges Nicholas and points at the rest with his chin.
But Nicholas only blinks at him. “Hot?”
Euijoo rolls his eyes. “Yeah. You think so, too, don’t you?”
Nicholas can’t disagree, but he hasn’t fallen for ‘hot’. He’s fallen for clumsy, smart, a little shy, unfailingly nice but direct, and occasionally shockingly sexy.
“But I prefer someone my age.” Euijoo’s face is neutral as he says this, but he is staring straight at Nicholas.
“What?”, Nicholas blurts out. “What do you mean?”
“Get the drinks,” Euijoo orders and turns to leave.
“Wait,” Nicholas scrambles to pick up the four glasses. “Wait. What do you mean?”
He rushes after Euijoo, sloshing half of the drinks all over his shirt and the dance floor.
Euijoo and Nicholas end up taking Taki home with them. After a few too many sips from everyone’s drinks, he’d finally admitted how much he'd missed Kei, and Euijoo had spontaneously offered him their couch to sleep on.
Nicholas isn't even mad, looking at Taki's sleepy happy face, wedged in between them on the subway home.
It does mean they can't really talk. Euijoo is leaning against the door, a loose arm thrown over Taki’s shoulders. His fingers brush against Nicholas whenever they are jostled by the train. He’s got a frustratingly easy smile on his face, like he knows very well that the ball is in Nicholas’ court.
Nicholas sighs involuntarily, and Euijoo gives him a quizzical look. “All right?”, he asks.
“Yeah,” Nicholas mutters. “I guess.”
Euijoo doesn’t press, nudging Taki. “Hey, we’re here.”
While they’re climbing up the stairs to their apartment, Taki giggles nervously. “You think they’re… done?”
Euijoo had almost forgotten about Fuma’s warning. “I mean,” he glances at Nicholas. “It’s been a few hours, right?”
Nicholas shakes his head with a grin. “No comment. Want me to go in first?”
Taki is close on his heels, however, quickly slipping out of his shoes and tiptoeing into the hallway. There is a faint light coming from underneath Fuma’s door, but everything is silent.
Euijoo releases the breath he’s been holding and whispers to Nicholas: “So much for hyung’s stamina.”
Nicholas snorts, quickly covering his mouth when Taki looks over.
“Think I can knock?”, the youngest asks.
“No!”, Euijoo and Nicholas hiss.
They quietly wash up and tuck Taki in on the couch, buried under all their spare blankets, where he falls asleep in a matter of minutes.
And then they’re standing in the corridor between their bedrooms, and still there is nothing to say. Euijoo smiles gently at Nicholas, laying a hand on his doorknob. "Good night, Nichol," he murmurs.
Nicholas automatically smiles back. "Good night," he responds.
Euijoo disappears in his bedroom first, and as soon as his door falls shut Nicholas lets his head bump heavily against his own. Well, it isn’t like this hadn’t happened the last few times Nicholas was determined to put the end in friends.
He’ll just sleep very badly and try again.
Euijoo wakes up to someone screaming.
He bolts upright in his bed and runs into the living room, where Taki is hanging off of Fuma's shoulders, struggling for Fuma's hand that he is holding out of reach.
"What the hell?", Euijoo exclaims, and Taki turns to him, trying to climb onto Fuma's back. Fuma is just laughing at him, easily balancing their combined weight.
"Help- me," Taki huffs and stretches to reach for Fuma's extended hand. "These- guys-"
Euijoo squints and then he finally sees it. A simple silver band on Fuma's ring finger. Fuma doesn't wear accessories if Nicholas doesn’t make him.
He gasps as he meets eyes with Fuma. His older roommate doesn't even need to say anything.
Euijoo rushes back into the hallway to barge into Nicholas’ bedroom but gets distracted by a confused and barely dressed Kei stumbling out of Fuma's room. Fuma’s boyfriend – fiancé!? – smiles sleepily when he spots him.
“Morning,” he croaks. “Euijoo, right?”
Euijoo nods and tries to ignore his bare legs. “Then the vampire guy glaring at me from behind your back last night was Nicholas?”, Kei continues, and Euijoo nods again.
Kei glances at the little wooden letter N on the door Euijoo was about to enter through and smiles. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
Euijoo turns to the door and pushes the handle. Then he turns back to Kei. “Do you think-”, he starts.
“Yes,” Kei immediately says, eyes softening.
After a few moments without any reaction from Euijoo, Kei nods, very big, very slowly. Euijoo doesn’t know this guy. Kei doesn’t know Nicholas and him. But he’s really only needed someone to tell him out loud what he’s known all along already.
He finally sends Kei a smile, slips into Nicholas' bedroom, and gets himself a boyfriend.