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Riku does whatever he wants with Yushi, and Yushi always lets him. Which, in theory, is fine. Harmless, even. Except it stopped feeling that way the moment people started noticing. The moment their friends began to exchange those looks, the ones with the raised brows and knowing smirks that said oh, we see how it is.
It first happened three months into their friendship—late night, half-empty diner, fluorescent lights flickering like they’re also tired of existing. Yushi’s halfway through stabbing at his cold fries when Daeyoung looked up with the kind of face people make right before saying something they shouldn’t.
“Are you guys… a thing?”
Back then, Yushi choked so hard on his milkshake that Riku had to pat his back with exaggerated sympathy.
“Relax, Daeng,” Riku said, grinning like it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard in his entire existence. “You’ll be first to know if I’m dating Yushi.”
He said it so easily, like it was some sort of a running joke. The kind that gets funnier the more it is repeated. And then—because Riku was apparently born to be Yushi’s personal torment—he turned to him and winked.
The wink was so unnecessary, Yushi thought. Cruel, even. He could practically feel it etching itself into his brain in HD clarity. For the next three days, he saw it everywhere—behind his eyelids, on the reflection of his phone screen, on the back of his cereal spoon. It looped in his head every time he tried to do something productive.
Riku’s stupid grin…
Riku’s stupid wink…
That was three years ago.
Three years, and still, whenever someone leaned in with that same sly smile and asked, “So… what are you guys..?” Yushi could feel the ghost of that wink flash across his memory like an unwanted pop-up ad.
It shouldn’t have meant anything.
But then again, nothing ever did with Riku—until it did.
The latest interrogation came courtesy of Sion.
It was late afternoon—the kind of hour where the sun turned everything gold and soft around the edges, and the campus quad looked almost pretty enough to make up for the week of academic suffering everyone had just endured. The air buzzed with relief and exhaustion. Someone was playing music from a portable speaker; someone else was passed out on their backpack.
Yushi sat under a tree, legs stretched out, his back pressed against the trunk, and his phone glowed faintly in his hand. Beside him, Sion lay sprawled on the grass, one arm thrown over his eyes, radiating the kind of smug peace that came after surviving a hell week.
“Seriously, Yushi,” Sion said suddenly, voice lazy but sharp around the edges. He rolled onto his side, squinting at him through the sunlight. “What’s going on between you and Riku?”
“Nothing,” Yushi replied automatically, his thumb hovering over Riku’s last text ten minutes ago. Almost done... Wait for me!!!
He stared at it a second too long again. The message had no business sounding that endearing.
“Uh-huh.” Sion’s tone was all disbelief and a little too amused.
Yushi sighed, “You know he’s just like that with everyone.”
Sion raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Like—” Yushi struggled for a moment, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “Clingy. Touchy. Riku.”
Sion’s laugh was sharp. “Dude, he’s not like that with anyone else.”
That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Riku hugged Ryo and Saku sometimes... Sure, they would usually protest with every ounce of their being, but it still counted. Right?
“Look,” Sion continued, leaning forward now, “all I’m saying is that the whole ‘he’s just like that with everyone’ excuse doesn’t really fly when he texts you goodnight every night and updates you about his every waking moment.”
Yushi was about to respond when his phone buzzed in his hand. A new text from Riku: Are you still there? Almost done fr this time!!
Sion caught the small smile tugging at Yushi’s lips before Yushi even realized he was smiling. “See?” he said, grinning. “That’s what I’m talking about. He texts you all the time.”
Yushi frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn’t. Because Sion wasn’t exactly wrong.
Yushi leaned against the wall outside Riku’s department building, one foot propped behind him, the other tapping restlessly against the concrete. The sun was almost gone now—half-dipped below the skyline, bleeding gold into lavender. The air had that hazy, in-between quality that comes right before evening, when everything feels a little slower, a little softer.
The campus was nearly empty. A couple of birds darted low across the quad, and somewhere far off, laughter carried faintly through the wind. Most students had already disappeared—either home, or off celebrating their hard-earned freedom. But not Yushi.
No, Yushi was exactly where he always was: waiting for Riku.
His phone screen dimmed, then locked, and he tapped it awake again just to have something to do with his hands. Every few seconds, his gaze would flicker toward the stairwell. Nothing. Then again. Still nothing.
Until finally—he heard Riku before he saw him. The click of his shoes on the stairs. The faint hum of a song Yushi didn’t know the name of, but had learned by heart anyway—it was Riku’s favorite lately, the one he’d been playing on repeat for weeks.
Yushi couldn’t help it. He smiled.
Then Riku appeared at the top of the stairs, framed by the last golden spill of sunlight, and it was almost cinematic—messy hair catching the light, face brightening the second his eyes found Yushi.
“Yuu-chaaan!” Riku’s voice bounced down the stairwell, far too loud for the nearly-empty building.
Yushi barely had time to react before Riku came barreling down the steps, arms outstretched. He stopped just two steps away, paused dramatically for half a second, and then let himself fall forward.
Of course, Yushi caught him, steady as always. He’d gotten good at this over the years.
Riku smelled as sweet as he is, his head resting on Yushi’s shoulder as if it belonged there. Yushi didn’t realize he was smiling again until he felt his jaw starting to ache from it.
“Long day?” Yushi asked, his voice soft.
“Exhausting,” Riku sighed, still leaning into him like all his bones had turned to jelly. “Carry me home?”
Yushi laughed, gently prying Riku off. “Not a chance.”
Riku leaned back, lips curling into a pout that didn’t even last a full second before it melted into a grin. “Fine. Let’s just go to your place, then. It's Friday, right?”
Yushi nodded, pretending his heart wasn’t pounding at the way Riku’s smile was just for him.
“Yeah,” Yushi said, voice low, more to himself than anyone else. “It’s our day.” Finally.
Yushi’s apartment always felt a little too big for one person, but on Fridays, when Riku bursts through the door like he owned the place, it finally feels just right.
Riku kicked his shoes off haphazardly before flopping onto the nearest soft surface. This time, it was the beanbag chair Yushi had bought on a whim that one time he and Riku went to the flea market.
“I’m dead,” Riku announced dramatically, draping an arm over his face. “Today killed me. Carry my legacy, Yushi.”
Yushi closed the door behind him, locking it out of habit, and raised an eyebrow. “Your legacy of skipping all-nighters to binge-watch animes and still acing your exams?”
“Exactly.” Riku peeked out from under his arm, his grin lazy and proud.
Yushi rolled his eyes and tossed his bag onto the couch. “Hungry?”
“Always.”
“I was thinking ramen—”
“Perfect!” Riku sat up immediately, as if the mere mention of food had revived him. “I’ll help.”
Yushi narrowed his eyes. “You never help.”
“That’s not true!” Riku protested, already padding into the kitchen behind Yushi. “I did the dishes last time.”
“Yeah, and you broke two plates,” Yushi pointed out, grabbing the ramen packets from the pantry.
“That I replaced the next day. Come on, that was one time! When will you let it go?” Riku whined, pouting.
Yushi chuckled, shaking his head as Riku hovered beside him, watching intently as he set the pot on the stove. Riku didn’t do anything particularly useful—he mostly leaned against the counter and poked at random utensils—but his presence filled the space in a way Yushi had grown hopelessly accustomed to.
When the ramen was finally ready, they carried the bowls to the couch. Riku insisted on sitting so close their knees touched, even though the couch was more than big enough for two people.
They ate in comfortable silence, the sound of noodles slurping and the low hum of the TV in the background.
“Wanna watch something?” Riku asked once they’d finished eating, his voice soft and a little drowsy.
“You’re just going to fall asleep halfway,” Yushi teased, taking their bowls back to the kitchen.
“I won’t this time,” Riku promised, though he’d made the same vow almost every week for the past three years.
By the time Yushi came back, Riku had already queued up a movie on the tv and spread out on the couch like a cat taking up more space than necessary.
“You’re not even going to leave me room to sit?” Yushi asked, crossing his arms.
Riku patted the empty cushion beside him without looking up. “There’s plenty of room. Come on.”
Yushi sighed but sat down anyway, tucking one leg beneath him to avoid Riku’s sprawled limbs.
The movie started, some romcom Riku had chosen at random, and Yushi found himself more focused on Riku than the plot.
He wasn’t sure when it happened—maybe sometime between the second chase scene and the lead characters’ dramatic rooftop confession—but Riku’s head found its way to Yushi’s shoulder.
Yushi froze for a second, his pulse jumping, but Riku didn’t seem to notice.
“You okay?” Riku murmured, his voice heavy with sleep.
“Yeah,” Yushi said quickly, willing his voice to stay steady.
Riku hummed, his eyes fluttering shut.
And just like that, Yushi was wide awake, hyperaware of the weight of Riku against him, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his skin.
This wasn’t new. Riku always ended up like this—tangled up with Yushi in ways that felt too intimate for just friends but were never discussed, never acknowledged.
It was normal.
Meaningless.
At least, that’s what Yushi told himself as he leaned back against the couch, careful not to move too much, and let Riku fall deeper into sleep.
And if his heart ached a little at the thought, well, no one had to know.
The movie ended about an hour ago, but Yushi hadn’t moved. He stayed still, letting Riku’s steady breathing fill the quiet room. Outside, the city buzzed faintly in the distance—cars passing by, muffled voices from a nearby street. But inside, it was just them, the glow of the tv screen casting soft shadows on Riku’s sleeping face.
When Riku shifted, Yushi’s gaze dropped to him automatically. His hair was a mess, sticking out in odd directions, and his cheek was pressed against Yushi’s shoulder in a way that would leave a faint red mark later.
“Riku,” Yushi said softly, not because he wanted him to wake up, but because it felt impossible to say nothing at all.
Riku didn’t stir.
With a sigh, Yushi reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, awkwardly maneuvering it over both of them without dislodging Riku.
He should’ve been used to this by now—the weight of Riku against him, the quiet closeness that felt too good to be real. But it always made his chest ache, this constant push and pull of almost.
Yushi’s thoughts wandered, picking apart memories like petals on a flower. All the little moments that made up their relationship. The way Riku insisted on texting him goodnight every night, even if they were both on the verge of sleep. The way Riku would insist they match their schedules so they could keep doing the same things over and over together—breakfast, morning walks to school, studying together during their long vacant time, waiting for each other so they could go home together too. Or the way he always found excuses to touch Yushi—hugging him, tugging on his sleeve, poking his side, leaning against him like it was second nature.
And the way Yushi would always let him, because what else could he do? Push him away? Pretend he doesn't like it?
The quiet stretched, the soft rhythm of Riku’s breathing lulling Yushi into a haze of half-thoughts.
But then Riku stirred, a faint groan slipping from his lips as he buried his face deeper into Yushi’s shoulder.
“Yuu-chan…” Riku mumbled, his voice muffled and heavy with sleep.
“Hm?”
Riku nuzzled against him, his words slow and slurred like they were fighting their way out of his mouth. “Why didn’t you wake me up? My neck hurts.”
“You looked comfortable,” Yushi replied softly, amused.
Riku lifted his head just enough to blink up at him, his eyes half-lidded and glazed with sleep. Then all of a sudden—
“You know what, I just realized… you’re kinda too nice to me,” he said so randomly, his tone shifting to something whiny.
Yushi felt confused for a moment, but then he chuckled. “Is that a bad thing?”
“It’s not,” Riku mumbled, dragging the blanket tighter around himself as he shifted to sit up. “But it’s weird… We never fight, you know?”
“What?” Yushi frowned, startled by the sudden turn in the conversation. “Why would we fight?”
“I don’t know…” Riku trailed off, his voice lilting and pouty. “It’s just weird. Three years, and not even one fight. Don't think that’s not normal...”
Yushi snorted. “Maybe we just don’t have anything to fight about.”
Riku shook his head, rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy toddler. “That’s not true. We totally do,” he said, drawing out the last word in a whine. “I’m annoying, too clingy, and—”
“You’re not annoying,” Yushi interrupted, his voice calm but firm.
“I am,” Riku insisted, his voice rising into a soft, sleepy whimper. “I talk too much. I’m clingy. I drag you around everywhere. I call you all the time. I’m just… too much. If it were anyone else, they’d probably get sick of me by now.” He paused, his brows furrowing slightly. “You’re just really patient with me, you know? Like… too patient. If you were Ryo or Sakuya, they’d yell at me by now or tell me to leave them alone. But you never do.”
“You’re not annoying, Riku,” Yushi said firmly, leaning forward slightly so Riku could see how serious he was. “You’re just… you. A little mischievous and loud and kind of a handful sometimes, sure, but that’s not a bad thing… You make everything more fun. You make people feel special, like they’re the only person in the room when you’re talking to them. You’re thoughtful in ways you probably don’t even realize, like how you always check if I’ve eaten, or remind me to bring my umbrella when it looks like it’ll rain.
“You’re not too much,” Yushi continued, his voice softening. “You’re just right. And I don’t think I could ever get tired of you, no matter what you do.”
Riku stared at him, his eyes wide and glassy, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Then, slowly, his mouth curved into a small smile.
“I really hope you don’t,” Riku murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Get tired of me, I mean.”
“I won’t,” Yushi said, his tone steady. “I’ll never get tired of you, Riku.”
Riku let out a soft hum, his smile growing as he shifted closer to Yushi, resting his head against his shoulder again. “Good,” he mumbled, already drifting back to sleep. “Because I’d be really sad if you did.”
Yushi didn’t say anything after that. He just let Riku stay where he was, the weight of his head against his shoulder grounding him in the quiet, comforting reality of their shared space.
The sunlight filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, as Yushi stirred awake. He blinked a few times, stretching lazily before realizing that the usually energetic Riku was sitting cross-legged on the couch, staring out the window.
“Morning,” Yushi greeted, his voice still thick with sleep.
Riku turned his head, flashing a brief smile. “Morning.”
Yushi squinted at him. Something felt… off.
Riku was quiet, unusually so. And while it wasn’t alarming, it was enough to make Yushi frown.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” Riku replied quickly, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “Just woke up a bit earlier than usual.”
“You sure?”
Riku nodded. “I’m fine, Yushi. Don’t overthink it.”
Yushi decided to let it go for now. He got up, stretching again before heading to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. Riku eventually joined him, shuffling to the table without saying much. They ate in relative silence, the usual banter and noise replaced by the clinking of utensils.
When the dishes were cleared and Yushi couldn’t take the quiet anymore, he leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and fixed Riku with a pointed look.
“Okay, spill,” Yushi said.
Riku looked up from his mug of coffee, blinking innocently. “Spill what?”
“You’ve been weirdly quiet all morning. What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Riku replied too quickly, his tone a touch defensive.
“Riku…”
Riku sighed, his fingers drumming idly against the mug. “I was just… wondering what could possibly make us fight.”
Yushi blinked. “That’s what’s been on your mind?”
Riku nodded, his expression oddly serious.
Yushi rolled his eyes, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “We’ve already been through this. There's nothing, Riku. I can’t think of anything.”
Riku tilted his head, his lips quirking in a half-smile. “Seriously? There’s nothing that could make you mad at me?”
“Nope,” Yushi replied easily.
Yushi leaned back against the counter, arms still crossed as he watched Riku stir his coffee absentmindedly. The silence stretched between them, heavy but not uncomfortable, though Yushi was determined to break it.
“You’re really stuck on this, huh?” Yushi finally said, his tone light.
Riku’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I just think it’s weird. Three years, and no fights. Like, not even a little argument. How is that possible?”
“We’re just good at communicating,” Yushi said with a shrug.
Riku snorted. “You mean I’m good at annoying you, and you’re good at pretending it doesn’t bother you.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Yushi replied honestly.
Riku narrowed his eyes, leaning forward like he was preparing for a challenge. “Okay, what if I delete all your saved game progress on purpose?”
“Maybe I’d be upset for about five minutes and then make you grind to get it all back,” Yushi replied without missing a beat.
“Okay, what if I canceled on our weekend plans at the last minute?”
“You’ve done that before, and I didn’t care.”
Riku clicked his tongue. “You didn’t care because you knew I’d come over the next day to make it up to you.”
“Exactly,” Yushi said with a shrug, crossing his arms.
Riku chuckled, drumming his fingers against the table. “Fine. What if I ate the last piece of cake you were saving for yourself?”
“Come on… you do that to me all the time,” Yushi replied with a shrug. “I’m okay with that, I can always just buy another one.”
“And if I forgot your birthday..?” Riku said, narrowing his eyes as if daring him.
Yushi turned, leaning against the counter with a small smirk. “Then I’d just guilt-trip you into buying me something extra nice to make it up to me. Easy.”
Riku tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “What if I... started ignoring you for no reason?”
“Impossible,” Yushi said confidently, crossing his arms.
“Why?”
“Because you’re Riku,” Yushi replied simply. “You can’t go five minutes without talking to me, let alone ignore me.”
Riku let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. “How dare you call me out like that!”
Yushi laughed, shaking his head. “I’m just telling the truth.”
Riku huffed, feigning offense, before his expression softened into something more contemplative. “Okay,” he said, his voice quieter now, “what if I got back together with my ex?”
Yushi’s smile faltered, the question slicing through the casual banter like a knife. He tried to brush it off, focusing on the dishes in the sink instead of Riku’s piercing gaze. “You’re not going to do that,” he said quietly.
“Maybe not… But what if I did?” Riku pressed, his voice softer now but insistent. “Would you get mad at me?”
Yushi’s hands stilled, and he let out a slow breath. “Riku—”
“No, seriously,” Riku cut him off, “if I really went back to him, would you get mad at me?”
Yushi gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles white. He wanted to say yes, wanted to tell Riku how the thought alone made his chest ache. But instead, he took a deep breath and turned around, meeting Riku’s gaze head-on.
“I guess it depends,” Yushi said finally, his voice quieter than before.
“Depends on what?” Riku asked, his brows furrowing.
“On whether you’re happy,” Yushi said quietly, his chest tightening with every word. “If you’re really happy with him, then I’d support you. I wouldn’t get mad.”
Riku tilted his head, watching him closely. “Why not?”
Yushi’s fingers tightened around the edge of the counter even more as he forced himself to answer honestly. “I just couldn’t… because if you forgave him and gave him another chance… if you kept going back to him, even after everything… then that probably just means you really love him. I can’t do anything about that.”
Riku’s expression softened, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “You wouldn’t even try to stop me?” Riku asked, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.
Yushi hesitated, his chest tightening. “If he makes you happy—can make you happy,” he said again, “why would I?”
Riku leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he studied Yushi. For once, he seemed unsure of what to say, his usual confidence replaced with something quieter, more introspective.
“And what if I got a new boyfriend?” Riku asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Yushi froze, his heart stumbling at the question. He met Riku’s gaze, his lips twitching into a strained smile. “Why would I be upset about that?” he said, forcing a laugh that sounded painfully fake.
Riku didn’t laugh. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand again as he studied Yushi, his expression unreadable.
“You’d really be okay with that?” Riku asked softly, his voice almost challenging.
“Of course,” Yushi lied, the words catching in his throat. “It’s your life. You can date whoever you want.”
Riku hummed, leaning back in his chair.
Yushi felt like he was balancing on a tightrope, every step precarious and uncertain. He turned back to the sink, focusing on the clatter of dishes to drown out the pounding of his heart.
Riku didn’t press further, but the silence that followed felt heavy, charged with everything they both couldn’t say.
The first day after Riku left for home, Yushi didn’t think much of it. People get busy. Plans come up. It wasn’t unusual, right?
But it felt strange. Off.
And it was weird how he noticed the silence immediately. At first, it was just the small things—a morning that didn’t start with a good morning text from Riku. He told himself not to overthink it. Maybe Riku was just busy, or he’d slept in.
But then it kept happening. Riku would still reply when Yushi texts him, but his responses were short and flat, like they were coming from someone else entirely.
Riku also always texts first. Updates him about the smallest things—what he was eating, where he was going, what he thought about the latest TikTok trends. But now, their conversations felt hollow, like he was holding something back. And whenever Yushi tries to keep the conversation alive, Riku would casually cut it off with vague excuses: Sorry, I’m busy rn. I’ll text you later.
But later never came.
Yushi didn’t want to be dramatic. He knew he didn’t have the right to demand Riku’s time, especially when they weren’t even… anything. But it felt so wrong. Riku has always been with Yushi. He wasn’t just a part of his day; he was the whole thing sometimes. He was the one who dragged Yushi out of bed for late-night snacks, the one who called him at ungodly hours just to ramble about his day, the one who made Yushi’s phone feel like it would never stop buzzing.
But now, the silence was deafening.
It got worse when Riku told him, out of the blue, that he was heading to their province for the week. The message came while Yushi was brushing his teeth, groggy from another restless night.
Hey, forgot to tell you I’m going to the province for the break. On the bus now. Talk later!
Yushi stared at the message for a long moment, toothpaste foaming in his mouth. He had to read it twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Riku was already on the bus.
He didn’t know what to feel. Disappointment? Hurt? No, that was too much. Too dramatic.
It's not like Riku needed his permission to leave. But the silence stung in a way Yushi didn’t expect. Riku had always been the type to come to him first—blurting out every thought, every plan, as if Yushi was some kind of anchor he couldn’t move without. So why did it feel like this time, he’d been left out of a conversation that used to be theirs by default?
It wasn’t like Yushi would have stopped him from going. He just… he thought Riku would have said something. Maybe even spent a little time with him before he left. Maybe even said goodbye in person.
He shook it off. It wasn’t a big deal. No. It shouldn’t be.
The days crawled by.
Yushi kept himself busy with anything he could think of. He cleaned his apartment until every surface gleamed. He caught up on his favorite dramas. He even tried baking, which was a disaster he didn’t want to think about again.
But no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the emptiness that settled over him.
Riku’s texts were sporadic at best. Sometimes, he wouldn't reply at all, and when he did, it was just to say goodnight. That was it. No updates about his day, no random tangents about the weird things his relatives said.
Yushi missed him.
It was an ache he didn’t know how to soothe, a hollow space that Riku had unknowingly carved into his chest over the years. He didn't realize just how much his world revolved around Riku until Riku wasn’t there.
Riku was his sun, the center of his orbit, the constant warmth that kept him moving. Without him, Yushi felt untethered, spinning aimlessly through a dark and silent void.
By Friday, Yushi couldn’t take it anymore.
Yushi stared at his phone, the clock glowing 12:00 AM. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating, but the ache in his chest pushed him forward.
I miss you, Riku...
He hit send before he could second-guess himself, then tossed his phone onto his nightstand and buried his face in his pillow.
The admission felt too vulnerable, too raw. But it was true.
Riku was always there, always a presence in his life. Even when they weren’t physically together, he was still there—texting, calling, sending silly videos or stupid memes. Yushi never had to miss him, because Riku never gave him the chance.
But now, he missed him so much it hurt.
He fell asleep with his chest feeling heavy, hoping that when he woke up, Riku would have replied.
The next day, Yushi woke up to sunlight streaming through his curtains and a sense of unease he couldn’t shake. He reached for his phone immediately, his heart pounding as he unlocked it.
No reply.
His message was marked as read, the time stamp mocking him.
Yushi stared at the screen, the weight in his chest sinking deeper. He tried to rationalize it. Maybe Riku had fallen asleep, or maybe there was a bad reception in the province.
But the doubts crept in anyway. What if something was wrong? What if we weren’t okay?
They weren’t in a fight. Everything had been fine before Riku left, hadn’t it? So why did it feel like the ground was shifting beneath his feet?
Frustration bubbled up inside him, and he tossed his phone onto the bed with a groan. He didn’t know what to do, how to fix this.
All he knew was that he missed Riku, and he couldn’t bear it.
Yushi didn’t bother greeting Riku that morning.
It wasn’t out of pettiness, he told himself. He was just upset. He ate a lazy brunch, the eggs on his plate overcooked because he wasn’t paying attention, and then slumped onto the couch to watch whatever random show Netflix suggested.
But even as the noise of the TV filled the room, his mind was somewhere else. Somewhere with Riku.
He hated this. Hated the unfamiliar weight pressing on his chest, hated how much space Riku took up in his head, even when he wasn’t around. He hated how he couldn’t just let it go.
Sometime after the credits of the third episode rolled, Yushi fell asleep.
When he woke up, it was dark outside. His phone screen lit up as he checked the time—6:02 PM. There were a few unread messages from his friends, so he rubbed his eyes and started replying.
Most of them were casual check-ins: Daeyoung asking if he wanted to grab a late dinner, Sakuya complaining about something mundane, Ryo sending a video of a cat that looked suspiciously like the one Yushi used to have.
Then there was a message from Sion.
Sion: Hey, aren't you coming to my party tonight?
Yushi stared at the message for a long moment, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. It was Sion’s birthday. Yushi had completely forgotten. He typed back quickly.
Yushi: Sorry, hyung. I don’t feel like it tonight. Happy birthday, though.
Sion’s reply came faster than expected. However, he didn’t expect it to feel like a slap.
Sion: Riku’s here though?
Sion: Are you guys ok???
Yushi froze.
His heart stuttered in his chest as his brain scrambled to make sense of the words.
Riku was at the party? Here?
No. That couldn’t be right. Riku was in the province. He’d told Yushi so himself. Why would he suddenly be back without telling him?
Unless…
The bitterness in Yushi’s stomach twisted into something heavier, sharper. He didn’t want to believe it. It had to be a mistake. Maybe Sion was trying to bait him into coming.
But then another message came through, this time with a picture.
Yushi hesitated before opening the image. When he did, it was like all the air left his lungs.
There Riku was, laughing with their friends. His dimpled smile was bright, his face glowing with happiness, like everything was fine. Like he hadn’t left Yushi on read. Like he hadn’t gone days without talking to him properly.
Yushi’s chest tightened, the bitterness swirling in his throat. Riku’s back. He’s already here. And yet he hasn't said a word to him.
Why?
He stared at the photo for what felt like an eternity, his emotions a tangled mess of hurt and disbelief.
Yushi clenched his jaw and looked back at their last conversation.
His heart sank even further.
The last message was still his: I miss you, Riku...
Left on Read.
He thought about ignoring Sion’s message, about shutting his phone off and pretending none of this was happening. If Riku didn’t want to see or talk to him, maybe he should just stay away.
But the ache in his chest didn’t care about logic. It didn’t care that he was hurt, or bitter, or frustrated. He missed Riku too much to let his pride win.
After a long moment of staring at the screen, Yushi’s fingers moved almost on their own.
Yushi: Fine. I’ll be there.
It wasn’t hard to find Riku.
The thing about Riku was that he might have been the life of the party, loud and boisterous in most rooms, but he had his limits. It didn’t matter how extroverted he seemed on the surface; after a few hours of constant interaction, Riku would retreat to a quiet corner with a drink in hand and let the noise of the party fade into the background.
Yushi knew this. He knew him. Knowing he’d been at Sion’s party for hours, Yushi figured Riku would be tucked away by now—somewhere quieter, where he could recharge. So, as soon as he stepped inside the party and glanced around, his instincts guided him to the far corner near the bar.
And there he was. Riku sat perched on a stool, one hand loosely gripping a drink, the other holding his phone, which he seemed to be staring at blankly. His shoulders were slightly hunched, his posture more subdued than usual.
It was so distinctly Riku. Even in a crowded space, his presence felt like it reached out to Yushi, tugging at something deep in his chest. He really missed him.
Without hesitation, he made his way toward Riku. A friend greeted him in passing, calling out his name, but Yushi barely registered it. His eyes stayed locked on Riku.
It wasn’t until someone mentioned his name again, louder this time, that Riku’s head shot up. He closed his phone with an almost frantic motion, his gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on Yushi.
The surprise on Riku’s face was evident, his lips parting slightly before curling into a smile—a faint, hesitant one that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yushi!” Riku said brightly, though his tone was too practiced, too strained.
Yushi didn’t smile back. His expression remained serious, his eyes fixed on Riku’s face, and when Riku noticed, his own smile faltered.
When Yushi reached him, he placed one arm behind Riku’s back, leaning in just enough to invade his space and braced his other hand on the bar counter, boxing him in gently.
“Yushi…” Riku’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
Yushi ignored the way his heart raced at the sound of his name, low and quiet on Riku’s lips. Instead, he turned his head slightly to ask the bartender for a drink. He pretended not to notice how Riku stiffened under his arm.
Riku smelled familiar, that sweet, comforting scent laced with just a hint of alcohol. It made Yushi’s chest ache. He’d missed him so much it felt unbearable, like the week apart had stretched on for months. And being this close to him again only made it worse.
He wanted to pull him close, to bury his face in the crook of Riku’s neck and breathe him in. He wanted to tell him how much he’d missed him, how unbearable it had been without him.
But instead, he leaned just a little closer.
“So when did you get here?” Yushi finally asked.
Riku flinched slightly at the question. “Uh… I came earlier today,” he admitted.
“Straight here from the bus?” Yushi pressed.
Riku nodded, swallowing hard. “Um... Ryo-chan picked me up from the terminal and brought me straight here.”
Yushi studied him carefully. Riku wasn’t lying—his eyes darted just enough to show his nerves, but not in the way they did when he was trying to spin a story. Still, there was something he wasn’t saying.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I could've picked you up myself.” Yushi asked, his voice softer now, though the weight of his emotions pressed against his words. “I… really missed you, Riku.”
Riku swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He couldn’t meet Yushi’s gaze, his eyes fixed somewhere near Yushi’s shoulder.
“Riku,” Yushi said again, quieter this time. It was almost a plea.
“Are we okay?” he asked, his voice trembling. “Are you mad at me? Did I… did I do something wrong? Anything that upset you?”
Riku’s lips parted as if to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he shook his head. “We’re okay...” he said softly. But when he finally turned to look at Yushi, his eyes were glassy, on the verge of tears.
Yushi’s heart clenched.
“Riku,” he said gently, stepping even closer. “What’s wrong?”
Riku shook his head and reached out, his hands clutching Yushi’s shirt as he leaned in. It wasn’t a request—he didn’t even have to say it. Yushi knew what he needed, and he was more than willing to give it.
He wrapped his arms around Riku, pulling him close, feeling Riku’s face press against his shoulder. He could feel the shaky breaths Riku took, the way his fingers gripped him like he was afraid he’d let go.
“Shh,” Yushi murmured softly, running a hand up and down Riku’s back. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“I missed you too,” Riku choked out, his voice muffled against Yushi’s shirt. “I’m so sorry.”
Yushi froze for a moment, then pulled back just enough to look at him. “Sorry for what?”
Riku shook his head, avoiding his gaze as he hugged him tighter. He didn’t say anything more.
They stayed like that for a while, long enough for the chatter of the party to fade into background noise. When Yushi finally pulled back, Riku’s face was flushed, his eyes rimmed red but dry.
“Do you want to go outside?” Yushi asked gently.
Riku nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah...”
“Okay,” Yushi said, guiding him toward the door. “Let’s get some air.”
The night air was cooler than Yushi expected, but Riku’s hand was warm in his, gripping tightly like he was terrified of letting go. They hadn’t spoken since stepping outside, the noise of the party fading behind them as they found a quiet spot by the garden fence. Yushi stole a glance at Riku, whose head was slightly bowed, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Are you feeling better?” Yushi asked softly.
Riku nodded, though his grip didn’t loosen. “A little,” he said, his voice quiet.
“So… do you mind if I ask you what’s wrong?” Yushi asked hesitantly. “What made you upset?”
Riku looked up at him then, his eyes dark and glassy under the dim light. “I just… missed you,” he admitted, the words so soft Yushi almost didn’t hear them.
That wasn’t the whole truth—Yushi could feel it. But he let the silence linger, waiting to see if Riku would say more. When he didn’t, Yushi leaned back against the fence, his heart tugging painfully at the sight of Riku’s furrowed brow and pursed lips.
Then Riku broke the silence, his voice small and unsteady. “Yushi… would you really not mind if I... got a new boyfriend?”
The question hit Yushi like a gut punch. For a moment, all he could do was stare.
“Do you want me to tell you the truth?” he asked after a beat, his voice low.
Riku’s lips parted, trembling slightly. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But… I want you to say you’d be upset… I guess…”
And just like that, the world tilted on its axis.
Yushi stared at Riku, who stood there looking impossibly vulnerable, his cheeks flushed from alcohol—or maybe from embarrassment. He wouldn’t meet Yushi’s gaze, and the sight of him, so unsure, so unlike his usual bold self, made Yushi’s heart ache. There was meaning in his words—Yushi was sure of it. He just wasn’t sure he could believe it.
Yushi exhaled slowly. “You’re right. I’d be upset,” he admitted, his voice low and sincere. “If you got a boyfriend… or if you get back together with your ex.”
Riku’s expression didn’t change at first, but then his lower lip jutted out into a pout, his eyes welling with tears. He shook his head, his voice trembling as he replied, “No, you wouldn’t. You’re just saying that because I told you—”
“I wouldn’t get mad,” Yushi interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “But I’d definitely get hurt and upset.”
“You’re lying,” Riku insisted, his words shaky. But Yushi didn’t stop.
“I’m not lying,” Yushi said, stepping closer. “Because if I’m being honest, Riku… I only want you for myself.”
Riku froze, his wide, tear-filled eyes snapping up to meet Yushi’s. The way the light caught the sheen of his tears made them shimmer like stars. He looked so beautiful like this—ethereal, even. It wasn’t fair how beautiful he was, even when he was on the verge of crying. Yushi hated seeing him like this, but he couldn’t stop himself from staring.
“I didn’t tell you the first time you asked,” Yushi continued, his voice softer now, almost reverent, “because I thought what I feel shouldn’t matter.”
Riku’s brows furrowed, his lips trembling as he whispered, “Of course it matters. You’re my best friend.”
“Just your best friend,” Yushi pointed out, his voice breaking ever so slightly on the word just. “I don’t get to have a say in what you do. Or who you want to go out with. Or who you want to love and spend the rest of your life with. It doesn’t matter what or how I feel. What matters is whether you’re happy or not. And as your best friend, all I can do is support you for that… Even if I’d hate it. Even if it’d hurt me. Even if I wanted it to be me.”
Riku’s mouth fell open slightly, his gaze locked on Yushi’s as though the words had physically pinned him in place.
Yushi had to look away. If he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from doing something impulsive—something reckless, like pulling Riku close and kissing him senseless.
“Why…” Riku began, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the cool night air. “Why would you hate it? Why would you want it to be—”
“You know why, Riku,” Yushi said, turning his gaze back to him. “You’re not stupid.”
“But…” Riku swallowed hard, “But I want to hear it from you…”
Yushi took a deep breath, his chest tight, and when he finally spoke, it was with every ounce of honesty he could muster.
“Because I love you, Riku.”
Riku inhaled sharply, his eyes widening, and Yushi pressed on.
“I thought I already made that clear when I said I want you for myself only.”
Riku’s lips quivered as he bit down on them, clearly trying—and failing—to keep himself from crying.
“Why else would I talk to you every single day? Why else would I want to be with you all the time? You know how much I like my solitude, but you’ve always been an exception to that. Why else would I agree to match my schedules with yours? I’d always do it even if it meant waking up so early on most days because you’re the first person I want to see every morning.
"I don’t even eat breakfast before you—but it’s my favorite thing to do now because I get to spend it with you. Even if the coffee tastes bad or the bread we bought was too dry, it doesn’t matter. You make everything worth it.
"You know how much I value my personal space. So why else would I let you hug me, hold me, lean on me anytime you want? It’s not because I’m too nice, or because I tolerate you too much, Riku—I let you do all of it because I love you. I am in love with you, Riku. That’s why.”
By the time he stopped talking, Riku was sobbing. Tears streamed down his face as he raised his hands to cover half of it, his shoulders shaking with the force of his cries.
And even though Yushi thought Riku looked heartbreakingly beautiful, he still hated seeing him cry. So he stepped forward, pulling Riku into his arms. Riku clung to him immediately, burying his face in Yushi’s neck as his arms wrapped around his shoulders.
Riku’s embrace was so tight it nearly hurt, but Yushi didn’t care. He held him just as fiercely, his heart aching but full, his lips brushing Riku’s temple as he whispered, “It’s okay, Riku,” his voice steady and low, every word meant to reassure. “You don’t have to say it back—”
“No,” Riku interrupted, his voice sharp despite the tears. “No… It’s not like that…”
His words caught in his throat, and Yushi could feel the moment Riku’s breathing hitched, like he needed time to pull himself together. Slowly, Riku pulled back, just enough to look Yushi in the eyes, his face still red and streaked with tears.
“The truth is…” Riku’s voice wavered, his lips trembling as he spoke. “I got sad—upset—when you said you wouldn’t mind if I got a boyfriend.”
Yushi blinked, startled, but he stayed silent, letting Riku finish.
“I wanted you to care,” Riku continued, his voice quieter now. “I wanted you to say you’d be upset. That it would hurt you. And when you didn’t, I thought…” His voice cracked, and he looked away, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I thought you didn’t care. And I thought you’d only say that if you just saw me as a friend. Because if you didn’t care, then it meant you don’t feel the same…”
Yushi’s chest ached at the sight of Riku trying so hard to hold himself together. He reached out, his hand cradling Riku’s cheek with a tenderness that made the other’s breath hitch.
“It didn’t help, you know,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “Distancing myself. I missed you so much, and it only made me sadder. And then I thought you were mad at me, or that you didn’t care because I stopped talking to you properly.”
Yushi’s heart twisted. “I was never mad at you, Riku.”
“I know,” Riku said, his voice breaking. “I swear I didn’t mean to do it on purpose, but I hated it. I hated being away from you. I hated being upset because of you. I hated missing you. It hurt so much.”
Yushi didn’t think twice. He pulled Riku closer, his arms circling the other’s waist as he pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I really hated it too,” he murmured against Riku’s skin.
Riku let out a shaky breath, his hands clutching the fabric of Yushi’s shirt. “Did you know… I went home as soon as I saw your message saying you missed me?”
Yushi stilled, his heart pounding in his chest.
“I wanted to see you so badly,” Riku continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “But when I got back, I didn’t know how to face you. I didn’t know how to explain why I’d been ignoring you. I thought you’d hate me, or think I was being stupid. And maybe I was. But I hated how much it hurt when I thought you didn’t care about me the way I care about you.”
Yushi cupped Riku’s face, forcing the other to meet his gaze. “Of course I care, baby,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “I always care when it comes to you. But I can’t do anything if you want to be with someone else—”
“You’re stupid if you think I’d want to be with someone else,” Riku interrupted, his voice firm despite the tears still shining in his eyes. “I’m in love with you, too, Yushi. I thought it was obvious.”
Yushi’s lips parted in surprise, his heart skipping a beat.
Riku pouted, and Yushi couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips.
“No, actually,” Yushi teased, his tone playful. “I couldn’t tell.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Riku exclaimed, his voice rising in indignation. “You said you let me do those things because you love me, but don’t you think the reason I do those things with you is because I love you?”
Yushi grinned, feigning cluelessness. “Nope.”
“Oh, shut up!” Riku smacked his arm lightly, though his pout softened into a small smile. “I love being with you. I want to spend time with you, hold you, hug you, lean on you, talk to you, see you—all of it. Because I’m in love with you!”
Yushi chuckled. “I just thought you were like that with everyone. But I’m like… extra special because I’m your best friend.”
“See, that’s just stupid,” Riku muttered, crossing his arms. “Daeyoung is my best friend, and I don’t do those things with him because I’m not in love with him.”
“Well, I guess now I know.”
Riku rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Yushi in a tight hug. Yushi hugged him back just as tightly, burying his face in Riku’s shoulder.
When they finally pulled away, Yushi looked at Riku, his gaze soft and full of warmth. “So, what now?”
Riku tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I think now’s the time to kiss me.”
Yushi let out a soft laugh, his heart soaring. Then, closing the small distance between them, he kissed him—gently at first, testing, as if trying to memorize the softness of Riku’s lips. Riku responded almost immediately, his hands reaching up to grip the front of Yushi’s shirt, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.
Yushi’s hands settled on Riku’s waist, steadying him as their mouths moved in sync. Riku tilted his head slightly, giving Yushi more access, and Yushi took it, his lips brushing softly yet insistently against Riku’s. It was intoxicating, the warmth of Riku’s skin, the faint taste of something sweet lingering on his lips.
Riku broke away for a breath, his forehead pressing against Yushi’s as he let out a shaky laugh. But before Yushi could say anything, Riku leaned in again, capturing his lips with more urgency this time, his fingers threading through Yushi’s hair. Yushi let out a low hum of surprise but melted into it, his hands tightening on Riku’s hips as if anchoring himself. The kiss was messy and desperate now, full of everything they’d been holding back, and it felt like the world around them had completely disappeared. Only them, and this moment, existed.
By the time they pulled apart, Riku’s cheeks were flushed, and his lips were red. He rested his forehead against Yushi’s, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Can I stay at your apartment for a few days?” he asked softly.
Yushi chuckled. “You want to make up for all the days you spent away from me, don’t you?”
Riku grinned, pressing a quick kiss to Yushi’s lips. “Exactly.”
Yushi chuckled, nodding. “Alright, baby. You can stay as long as you want.”