Archive of Our Own

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

i. imitation of obliviousness

The idea came to Fuma before their flight to Taiwan. He was watching Nicholas squabbling with Taki, the younger voicing his complaints yet never pushing him off.

Taki huffed, "Seriously, why do you have to mess up my hair?"

There was this big beaming smile on Nicholas' face as he answered, "Because I love you, Taki-chan~"

It was said in jest but the underlying feelings of it are true. Nicholas bothered people because he cared. Yuma snorted and then he was joining forces with Nicholas to bother Taki.

A perfectly normal, perfectly domestic scene without any particular importance.

Still, Fuma's mind played a cursed loop of Nicholas' voice like a stuck tape.

The word for 'love' never felt heavy when it was Nicholas saying it. He said it all the time; to his family, to the members, to the adoring crowds who cheered his name.

He answered all 'I love you's in so many different languages on live too. Giggling and stumbling over pronunciation in a way that would surely make Lunés gush. He used it to talk about his newest fashion items, new animes, and even new songs he liked.

So many different things that made the word feel light, effortlessly rolling off Nicholas' tongue like he had an unlimited supply.

Fuma's own mouth felt glued shut half the time. Maybe it was a consequence of being a self-proclaimed solo player. It was hard to say those kind of declarations out loud, much less even think them in his mind.

It was easy for the fans. Everything he did on and off stage was a grand performance after all. He meant it, but the persona he put on made it easier to say nonetheless. But he could never be casual about the word itself, and especially not to Nicholas.

Nicholas held too many of Fuma's complex feelings without even knowing it. Hell, Fuma didn't even know that Nicholas would be the type to be well… his type. It felt weird to say that but Fuma had never fallen for anyone quite like Nicholas before.

If he had some inkling then maybe he could be better prepared, build some better defenses and shield himself from the sheer amount of feeling that built up in his chest when Nicholas so much as looked in his direction.

Fuma's mind replayed Nicholas' voice again, recreating the way he singsonged as he went through the syllables in such an annoyingly affectionate Nicholas-way.

Fuma felt like kicking himself for being so engrossed in it.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't at all jealous. There. He said it. He'd be the world's biggest liar if he said he didn't want Nicholas to say such a thing to him. And Fuma liked to lie, but not about this.

Not about Nicholas.

Fuma had lost count of how many times he had tried to, though. He had quite a long and tumultuous denial phase back when he started realizing his feelings. That the squeezing in his stomach when he saw Nicholas wasn't some rare illness but instead just a symptom of lovesickness.

Seriously, they were even in their fourth year of being a group. Fuma would like to think he had improved a little bit. He could admit it now; his fondness for Nicholas.

It didn't matter what Kei and Euijoo had to say about it. Safe to say, they did have a lot to say especially when he was in denial. Fuma had been subject to a lot of teasing, more so from Kei but he wasn't safe from Euijoo either. They teased him often about wanting Nicholas' attention.

Now Nicholas' attention wasn't hard to keep if you were interesting. But Fuma was seldom interesting. Both to watch or as a target.

Somehow Nicholas paid attention anyway. It made Fuma nervous whenever Nicholas' eyes turned to him, akin to the feeling of a giant spotlight being shined on him. Which was weird, because he got giant spotlight shined on him everyday for a living. He should be used to it. But he wasn't used to it because it was Nicholas.

Somehow there were many things that Fuma felt like allowing when it came to the younger. He liked Nicholas' rapt attention, the way his eyes sparkled when he wanted a reaction out of Fuma. Fuma liked indulging, he liked holding back, liked watching all different manner of expression cross over his face.

But what stumped him most was how to keep Nicholas' attention on him. He knew how. He had observed the other members enough to know what would keep Nicholas around. The exact type of topics, or questions, or even the things to say.

If Fuma was someone braver, then he maybe he would try. But he wasn't. Even now, he somehow retained the same shyness he had when he was a kid staring longingly at someone on the playground, praying they would notice and invite him to play.

So all he could do was try to keep Nicholas' attention for as long as he could when he was graced with it. It was akin to negotiating with a cat. A well-placed comment here, a little poke there. A compliment or two thrown into the mix.

Surprisingly Nicholas was easy to fluster when Fuma complimented him. He didn't have enough gameplay to compare, but usually Nicholas could take things in stride when it came to compliments from what he saw on broadcasts. But every so often he would duck his head, smile soft as he would return Fuma's compliment with his own. And since Fuma couldn't stop himself, he would compliment him back.

'A compliment prison', was what their fans called it jokingly online. Fuma found the name to be cute and somewhat accurate. Yes, he sometimes ego searched social media to see what people said about him, and yes, he liked seeing their fans enjoy him and Nicholas' interactions too. Sue him for being curious.

But on the cusp of departing to Taiwan, Fuma felt a bit insatiable.

There was this undercurrent of knowing. Everybody probably felt it. Everyone was anticipating it, even their fans. Nicholas always came more alive in Taiwan after all.

Comfortable in his own skin as he was, he somehow sank into it even more when they were in his home country. The easy confidence backed up with sharp knowledge as he helped the members and staff navigate the city.

Fuma thought Nicholas was already amazing, knowing so many languages at once. But Mandarin was different. It was in his blood. Instinctive and quick and worn in just so, like a well-loved blanket.

With everyone being Japanese, Euijoo and Nicholas stood out. But everyone could meet Euijoo in the middle, giving him familiarity in Korean. The same couldn't be said about Nicholas. Sometimes, Fuma wondered if he ever felt lonely. Being able to speak a language that none of them could reciprocate.

Despite it all, Nicholas was always so earnest about teaching them. It was evident, in the way his eyes would brighten whenever someone would ask to learn a phrase or word. He was a patient teacher, going through the tones slowly and showering the members with compliments every time.

As they get called to board the plane, a thought crossed Fuma's mind.

Before he could think too hard, Fuma moved in behind Nicholas. He tapped him on the shoulder. Nicholas turned, smile already on his face as he tilted his head. Like a cat.

"Um," Fuma suddenly felt at a loss of words. Fuck. He should've thought this through first before he— "How do you say 'I love you'? In the Taiwanese dialect."

Understanding dawned on Nicholas instantly, his face brightening, "Oh! You wanna know more advance stuff, huh?" Fuma nodded, unable to meet his eyes suddenly. But Nicholas doesn't make it easy.

He ducked his head, following Fuma's faltering gaze, "It's actually kind of similar. You know it in standard Mandarin, right? Wǒ ài nǐ?"

Oh. His head was going to start spinning from how tight his chest felt.

"Y-Yeah," Fuma parroted the syllables back. "Wǒ ài nǐ."

Nicholas nodded, "That was really good, Fuma-kun! So for Taiwanese dialect, they say something similar."

Something dreamy flickered over the younger's face as he looked at him, "Guá ài lí."

And Fuma felt something shift in his chest. Miserably he realized that he's so fucked.

He wanted to keep hearing Nicholas say those words in his home language, even if Fuma didn't understand it. He wanted to hear the way it rolled effortlessly off his tongue, so bad it made him dizzy.

The meaning will come to him eventually, aided by the warm gravel of Nicholas' voice as he patiently holds his hand through the tones. In the brightness of his smile and the delight in his eyes when Fuma finally gets it right.

And he knew that now was the moment. That this trip would be it.

Taiwan would give him the perfect excuse.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

ii. homecoming blues

Nicholas had been abuzz since they stepped foot on the plane. He couldn't keep himself from bouncing his knee. He felt kind of bad for Fuma, who had easily slipped into the plane seat next to him.

Fuma, who was dressed casual, dark jacket and a plain white tee with jean clad legs in a comfortable spread. And the hat on his head. Which, would've been fine and normal if it wasn't the very hat that Nicholas had spent time desigining and prototyping to perfection. Wenoism, Nicholas' own fashion collection, had dropped just days prior.

Each of the members claimed their sets at the practice rooms the day before. Kei took a shirt, flannel, and hat. Harua, ever the glutton for fashion, took one of everything. The members displayed different ways to congratulate him, and they all decided to come to Taipei wearing his collection.

Fuma had looked at him, his eyes twinkling, 'Good job, Nicholas. Everything looks wonderful.' The older had the hat in his hands, marveling at the details. And there it was now. On Fuma's head. It stood out against Fuma's light hair, the silver accent glinting against the light. Something nagged at his stomach at the sight but that wasn't the point.

The point was, his knee was bouncing and he didn't want to disturb the older. Fuma had his phone out so maybe he wasn't necessarily gaming but…Nicholas wanted to be more still. But he couldn't.

It was the prospect of going home.

Home wasn't really a place, Nicholas knew that better than anyone. Being shipped around to America and back as a kid taught him that. Home back then was in the comfort of his jie's arms, being able to sleep wrapped in her embrace or the way her hand would always ruffle his hair. Nicholas had cycled through many iterations of home since then before finally landing on this.

The dorm shared with nine, genkan piled high with shoes, couch littered with plushies, and the gaming console plugged into their TV. The soft throw blankets that Kei had bought so they could have comfortable movie nights together. The way they always ordered extra servings of food because someone was bound to come out of their room as soon as they smelled it. The way they always woke Nicholas up last because they knew how much he hated mornings.

But his home country always held a different kind of ache.

The ache of what could have been if he had stayed, for one. But also the ache of familiarity and loss as he watched the places he grew up in change and warp into something entirely new. Just like he did. Returning to his homeland a person changed each time.

And yet there was this undercurrent of something hammering in his heart. Something new and strange and different. An urgency he didn't feel last time they were here. A missing anxiety replaced by a spark of something so entirely strange.

Nicholas jumped when something touched his knee.

Fuma looked at him a little apologetically, his finger crooked where he had poked Nicholas, "Sorry. You were just…about to vibrate out of your seat. Are you…okay?"

God. Of course Fuma would notice.

It wasn't like Nicholas was particularly good at hiding in general. But Fuma somehow always knew how to find him. Not the time, Nicholas reprimanded himself. He could think about Fuma and about Fuma-related feelings later.

"Yeah," Nicholas exhaled and Fuma shifted, his knee pressing against Nicholas' own. He couldn't help but still. A zap ran up his spine as he cursed their tiny economy seats. Someone was snoring in the seat behind them, and Nicholas was half sure it was Taki but all he could focus on was the small point of contact between them.

"I'm just… I don't know, it's not really nerves," Nicholas felt tongue tied in more ways than one. "It's just…we're coming back. I want to do better and give them the best show ever."

Fuma nodded, cautiously asking, "Your family?"

"Not just them." The pressure on his chest felt uncomfortable almost. Nicholas pressed his palm over his heart. "Just…everyone. They're watching now, in Taiwan. Waiting for our next move. And I want to make Luné proud too." Fuma nodded again and Nicholas felt the pressure loosen. Was it possible for Fuma to have that effect? All Nicholas had to do was tell him something and it somehow felt better.

But then Fuma leaned closer, his newly dyed silver strands brushing his forehead, "I want to do well too. We all do. We want to make you proud. I think it's a feeling we all share."

"You always do well," Nicholas said, entirely too soft to be heard over the rumble of the plane. But in their proximity, he was sure Fuma heard him because his eyes softened.

"We always do well," Fuma corrected gently. "Taiwan isn't ready for the new and improved Wang Yixiang." It was probably supposed to be a joke, but Nicholas felt his shoulders raise a little. Fuma's words had that kind of effect on him.

"Since I'm trying to improve," Fuma's eyes cast downward and his knee shifted away. "Can you check on my Mandarin pronunciation?" Now it was Nicholas' turn to move into Fuma's space, eager to help.

Fuma was far from the best at Mandarin pronunciation. Maki was scarily good at picking up tones, and Jo had been diligently practicing for a long time so those two had the upper hand. But Fuma was nothing if not persistent. He didn't give up, repeating tones in that gentle and puzzled voice of his.

"No, no," Nicholas laughed as Fuma accidentally said a completely unrelated word. "Like this." Before he could think better of it, Nicholas held his hand. He moved Fuma's hand in the direction of the tone as he repeated it. Fuma let him, eyes fixed on the movement of their hands.

Focus, Nico, focus. He needed to focus on letting go of Fuma's hand because he was done teaching.

But then Fuma held his hand back, moving it through the tones, "Dà…jiā de yīng…xióng…? Is that correct?" Nicholas realized that he had been dazed too long when Fuma's eyes suddenly met his.

Nicholas let go, pressing his shoulder blades back against the seat, "Yeah. Um, you can say it a bit faster. But it's good so far. They'll think it's cute."

Fuma tested the words out again, silently mouthing them before nodding, "And then what about 'I love you everyone'?"

"Oh, it's the same as I said earlier," Nicholas hesitated to move closer but Fuma's hand was hovering. He grabbed it again, trying to ignore the spark. "Wǒ ài nǐ-men."

Fuma's eyes aren't on their hands this time, instead on Nicholas' face, "Wǒ ài nǐmen."

"That was really good," Nicholas' voice cracked in the middle and he watched as Fuma smiled a little at the compliment. This was seriously not good. Fuma wasn't even saying it to him, and yet—

"How about the other dialect?" Fuma prompted, hand moving Nicholas' own in the shape of the tones. "Guá ài lí…men?"

Nicholas heart was squeezing but for an entirely different reason now. He swallowed a little before smiling, "You're a natural, Fuma-kun."

For a second neither of them moved. It felt like a game of chicken and for once Nicholas was completely okay with losing.

He looked away first, down at their still entwined hands. Fuma's finger tapped a rhythm on the back of his palm, one, two, three, one two three, guá ài lí—

The rattle of the plane's food cart made Nicholas pull his hand away. The steward's beaming smile made Nicholas' stomach swoop as they handed them a little bag of snacks and asked them for their drinks.

Fuma asked for a coffee and Nicholas got an apple juice. Nicholas' hand was still carrying a hallucination of the warmth Fuma gave him as he held his juice.

The steward left and Nicholas exhaled quietly, "That scared me."

Fuma's chuckle startled him a little and when Nicholas looked, his smile was hidden behind his coffee cup, "Thought you didn't startle easily."

Fuma was poking fun. At him. Nicholas tongued at his cheek to keep from smiling too much before he nudged his knee with no retort. Fuma nudged him back a little and Nicholas tried not to be too obvious. Tried not to look so in love.

Which was hard when the person you have feelings for was right next to you.

If it were up to Nicholas, then he wouldn't fall for someone he had to work with everyday. It was a dangerous line to toe, especially in their line of business.

But Nicholas did. That was, fall for Fuma. Hard and fast. One day Fuma was just an older member and sub-leader. The next Nicholas was head over heels for him. Well, it didn't happen that quickly. But it might as well have.

Their relationship wasn't easily defined in the beginning. He wasn't close in age, like Kei. He was the same age as Euijoo, but didn't share any of the responsibilities of a leader. He didn't need reassurance like their younger members.

Him and Fuma existed in a sort of limbo.

Fuma was a steady existence. Nicholas had observed that since the first time they had teamed up in &Audition. But he valued his individual time more than any of the others, something that Nicholas also quickly picked up.

Contrary to that, he would stretch himself to accommodate. At least, he used to do that more during their early days. Too quick to say yes to anyone, Fuma always looked exhausted back then.

Everybody's hero. Dàjiā de yīngxióng.

Nicholas tried to help in anyway he could. He used all the admiration the younger members had for him to allow the other members more rest. Playing with the younger members was hardly work for someone like Nicholas. Still the relief he saw from Euijoo and Fuma was real.

Fuma knew. He noticed, of course, what Nicholas was doing. He looked sometimes, when Nicholas was with the younger members. If Nicholas ever caught his eye, he'd nod. An undertone of gratefulness, a pat on the shoulder, a moment of silence shared in comfort.

What they had was a quiet easy relationship, which turned into whatever this was as Fuma opened up and Nicholas got more comfortable.

Because turned out, Fuma liked to be bothered sometimes. He even admitted it himself on a radio show. He liked to be teased and paid attention to just like everyone else. He just…very rarely asked for it.

Nicholas tried to be normal, to give him attention like he did to everybody else. He was honestly a bit scared that Fuma would push him away. But so far the older had been nothing but equally receptive or passive to his attempts at…well, Nicholas didn't really know what to call it. Attempts at getting Fuma's attention? Making sure he doesn't feel left out or lonely?

You mean your terrible pursuit at flirting, whispered the Byun-Euijoo-shaped entity in Nicholas' mind. Since when did he have one of those? And how does he get a refund?

In his defense, he wasn't terrible at flirting. It was just…Nicholas didn't know what to do around Fuma.

Whatever. Nicholas wasn't one to get so hung up so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

That was, until he saw his sister.

You see, Nicholas loved his sister. He'd looked up to her all his life and she was one of his biggest sources of inspiration. She was smart and wittier than Nicholas was. And on top of that, much braver than Nicholas could ever hope to be.

So he couldn't help but freeze when his sister leaned in, mischief in her eyes as she whispered, "How is it with you and your yīngxióng?"

"Jie," Nicholas hissed before looking around. Of course the hero in question was unaware, sitting somewhere near Nicholas' Bà, who was unabashedly talking to them all in a mix of English, very broken Japanese, and gestures.

His jie merely chuckled, "Aiyah, you're still just little Xiang-Xiang, hmm? All shy around your crush?"

"Can you please stop?" Nicholas would've buried his head in his palms if he hadn't already gotten his base make up done for their soundcheck. "Nothing's happened between us."

"Really?" She giggled softly. "What happened to your bravado last time? You said you'd finally make a move?"

Nicholas nudged her with his elbow, "You can't trust me when I'm tipsy, jie."

Her face softened, "You're Wang Nicholas. The heart of &Team, pride of our family, prince of Taiwan. Why are you so afraid of him?" Nicholas' face soured with every lofty title she held up to him, but he understood her point.

"Because so many things could go wrong," Nicholas heaved out a breath. "Maybe it just won't work out and I'll end up making everything so…awkward."

"Hmm," His sister mused before tapping her chin. "He's been stealing glances at you since earlier though?"

And because Nicholas had the subtlety of a three year old, his head snapped up, searching. Of course what greeted him was Fuma's eyes which were indeed pointed in their general direction. Fuma looked away for a moment, embarrassment radiating from his body language before he gave Nicholas a small smile.

"Aiyah, you lack self-control," She said smacking him on the shoulder as she stood. "I'm going to go talk to him. Maybe I'll rough him up a little bit." At least she gave him a wink before walking over. She had more tact than to approach Fuma right away, so she sat in his vicinity before moving closer.

Nicholas tried not to be nosy about it, but he saw the moment Fuma did say something, probably in that adorable accented English of his. There was an itch somewhere to know exactly what was said because he was greedy for it. For Fuma's words and compliments and the parts of him Nicholas could hoard away.

Nicholas joined his bà instead, sitting next to Yuma as they talked about their shared love for yán sū jī. He tried to swallow the curiosity, even as he waved at his family as they left and even more when they lined up to go up on stage.

Except Fuma was there, right next to him. They didn't follow a certain standing order when doing soundcheck so it usually was dependent on how quick they were in lining up. But it felt like some sort of specially designed torture to have Fuma so close to him right now.

"Your sister asked me about you," Fuma said, into the quiet space between them. The others were still getting touch ups and in-ear monitors adjusted. Nicholas almost thought the words were a hallucination.

"Really?"

"I couldn't speak to her well," Fuma continued, not looking at Nicholas but instead fiddling the bracelet at his wrist. "But she asked me if you were happy these days."

Nicholas shouldn't ask but the words come out anyway.

"And what did you say?"

Fuma paused his movements, eyes trailing upward to his face now, "That you've been happy. That Taiwan always makes you happier than you already are."

"Oh really?" Nicholas couldn't help the little bit of teasing in his tone. "Is that how you see it?"

Instead of rising to the bait Fuma gave him a once over, eyes dragging over Nicholas' figure with purpose, "You look that way to me now."

Huh. Does he? Was the Wang Nicholas of yesterday different from the one today? Was he happier just being in a country that was his own?

The more difficult thing to discern was what would make Fuma say such a thing. It was in the implication that Fuma saw him; watched him closely enough to see the tiniest differences. Which couldn't be. Certainly he wasn't different enough for Fuma, of all people, to notice.

It was like Fuma knew that Nicholas didn't believe him, because he nudged him, "Okay, help me go over the intro again?"

Nicholas let it go, helping Fuma fix his tones under his breath as the stage hummed with excitement. Their fans must've entered the hall, the shouts of their names being carried through backstage.

"Standby!" One of the staff said in English and about half the group understood it, tapping the other half to cue them in.

Fuma repeated everything quickly, like a pragmatic list he didn't want to forget, "Dà jiā hǎo. Wǒ shì &TEAM de Fuma. Dàjiā de yīngxióng."

Then finally, quieter, Fuma whispered, "Wǒ ài nǐ," and like he had almost forgotten he tacked on, "Luné."

"Mhm," Nicholas echoed because he couldn't help it. "Wǒ ài nǐ." Fuma nodded like the reminder was entirely necessary and they were on stage.

Nicholas' heart sang as the fans called out to him by his given name. He used to not like it, he thought it was a waste because he had a stage name, the name he used whilst being a part of &TEAM.

But that didn't erase the ties he had to his given name. To the name his parents gave him when he was born, a promise of soaring into the sky with greatness.

And he loved it now, hearing the crowd cheer his given name loud and clear with his in-ears out.

Wang Yixiang! Wang Yixiang!

The members all smiled at him as they watched him soak it up.

Nicholas brought the microphone to his lips, barely containing his smile as he shouted, "Wǒ lái le!"

I'm back. I'm home.

Nicholas laughed along as the members do their introductions, fumbling through their Mandarin pronunciations while some said things with absolute confidence.

When it was Fuma's turn, he delivered with precision even though it was just soundcheck. The younger members complained that he got extra practice backstage, and all eyes fell onto him. Nicholas simply shrugged and the older let out a small laugh.

Soundcheck and the main performance blend together. All Nicholas remembered was the bright beaming smile he had on his face during certain songs. He got his position wrong during Run Wild, too much excitement pumping through his veins as the members pointed at him.

And during Big Suki, he had expected Fuma to do his normal thing— the very normal thing of manhandling Nicholas that he enjoyed a little too much— yet instead he put up a cat ear for him. Nicholas couldn't do anything but laugh at that, fondness in his throat.

By the end of the performance, Nicholas couldn't tell what exhausted him more, laughing so much on stage or the actual performance. All the members looked the same, exhausted yet glowing from the performance and the vibe.

And also the crazy humidity in the concert hall. Everyone looked positively drenched in sweat. Nicholas had to bite his tongue from making a comment about how Euijoo and Taki looked like two wet dogs.

By the time they made it to the restaurant, Nicholas had turned Fuma's words over in his head again.

Taiwan always makes you happier than you already are.

Fuma wasn't sitting next to him. He was all the way across the table and usually Nicholas wouldn't mind the distance, but…

Nicholas sunk lower into his seat, letting his legs stretch out, purposive in his movements. He tapped something with his foot and Fuma froze mid-chew. His cheeks were puffed up a little from whatever it was he was eating. He didn't flinch away, even as Nicholas hooked his foot behind Fuma's ankle.

Fuma swallowed before tilting his head, looking at Nicholas with question in his eyes. The rest of the table hadn't noticed and Nicholas didn't feel any braver than before so he settled for shrugging.

Still, Fuma didn't move his foot away as he continued eating and Nicholas couldn't resist doing something. He slid his shoe up a little more before tapping a gentle rhythm against the older's calf.

One, two, three. Wǒ ài nǐ. Guá ài lí.

Fuma looked at him again, chopsticks halfway down like he was about to say something. Instead, he picked up a xiaolongbao from the bamboo steamer, placing it carefully in Nicholas' bowl.

The older mouthed, "Eat." and Nicholas gave in. He shifted, sitting up a bit to maneuver the dumpling onto his spoon. But then, just as Nicholas was about to eat, Fuma pulled Nicholas' foot back, tapping his shoe.

It was the same pattern— one, two, three— being returned back to him. Something terrible and warm flooded his chest at the gesture. Fuma couldn't possibly know what it meant, but Nicholas felt the phantom butterflies anyway.

As if that wasn't enough, Fuma placed a piece of chicken onto his bowl for good measure. Nicholas bit into the xiaolongbao, letting the hot soup burst in his mouth, against his lips. The warmth of it was good, distracting from the part of his heart that was beating out an easy and familiar rhythm.

Dinner ended with Nicholas' foot still hooked behind Fuma's ankle and everyone being none the wiser. Nicholas didn't look at Fuma anymore, for fear of confessing to him right then and there.

Nicholas sank into his hotel room mattresses and dreamt of a different type of visit to Taiwan with just them two. One where he could hold Fuma's hand, and lead him down the streets where he spent his youth. One where he would take Fuma to his childhood home, introduce him to his family the way he wanted to. One that would end sealed in a kiss, a simple band against his left ring finger that would match Fuma's own.

Nicholas woke up with the ghost of a kiss on his lips, vows never said stuck in his throat.

Harua was stood over his bed with a pillow, menacing even with his bedhead. Nicholas didn't even want to know what he had planned if he hadn't woken up.

"C'mon," he rasped out. "We have a concert to prepare for."

Nicholas scrubbed his eyes like it'd take away the memories that never happened and spat out toothpaste and heartbreak into the sink. His eyes were a little red as he stared at himself in the mirror.

Nicholas slapped himself lightly on the cheeks. He needed to be normal. He could be normal. He just needed to look at Fuma and feel nothing and go about his day.

How hard could that possibly be, right?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

iii. gravity, inevitability, and falling

Impossibly hard. A herculean task. A trial by torture.

It was impossible for Wang Nicholas to act normal in any sense around Murata Fuma.

"You're being dramatic," That was Euijoo because Euijoo hated him. Both in real life and in his head, the younger was unhelpful.

Nicholas groaned, "You don't even get it."

Euijoo flicked his forehead then.

"Ow—"

Evil. So very evil of him. At least the members were gone so they couldn't see the exchange. It was just him and Euijoo in this more secluded waiting room.

"I can't look at him anymore," Nicholas said into his palms, falling back on the couch. "I keep seeing it happen in front of my eyes."

It, being the wedding. His mind kept summoning the image of Fuma in a suit, Fuma smiling at him and holding his hand, Fuma kissing his palm with a ring on his finger—

"Maybe, if you actually said something, you could do something about the wedding you so very clearly want," Euijoo said, sitting somewhere above him. When Nicholas tilted his head back, Euijoo was staring down at him.

"It's not about the wedding," Nicholas pouted. Because it really wasn't. It was about Fuma. About how Taiwan felt like the land of false hopes with every 'I love you' they exchanged under the guise of practice.

"I never thought you'd be this scared," Euijoo said, voice quiet. "I thought you'd be…"

Braver. Unafraid. That was how a lot of people saw him. And Nicholas was brave but he could never be unafraid. Not about the person he loved.

"You're always showing him you care," Euijoo shifted, his leg nudging Nicholas' crown. Nicholas lifted himself, letting Euijoo's thigh settle under his head. "What's the difference between that and saying something?"

"Everything?"

"Nichol," Euijoo pinched his cheek this time.

"Okay, okay," Nicholas swatted his hand away. "If I say something, and it all goes wrong…promise you'll be there?"

Euijoo got this look on his face for a moment, like he knew more than he let on, "I'll treat you to ramen if that happens. But it's not going to. So you need to treat me to ramen if it works out." Nicholas didn't say anything to that. If it works out. The world's biggest 'if'.

The door clicked open and of course it just had to be Fuma. The older scanned the room, unfazed as he looked from Euijoo to Nicholas. Nicholas knew he wouldn't care. Fuma didn't see him like that.

But there was a flicker of hesitance in his eyes, "Is this a good time? Are you two okay?"

"We're fine, Fuma-kun," Euijoo answered before poking at Nicholas' head. "This idiot was a bit too excited to sleep."

Concern materialized in Fuma's eyes, "Do you want to go last then? I can tell the others to change the hair-make order."

"No, it's fine," Nicholas batted Euijoo's hand away. "What did you come in here to tell us?"

"Oh, right," Fuma rubbed the back of his neck. "The snacks we ordered are here."

As if on cue, Nicholas' stomach gave a rumble and he shot up, "Sign me up."

"The others ordered boba too," Fuma said, almost careful as he let Nicholas out of the room. Nicholas followed him back to the other room, distance between them measured like Fuma was counting steps. "I told them to get you one too."

Nicholas stepped right in front of him, erasing the space between them. He placed a solemn hand on Fuma's shoulder, "Fuma-kun. Have I ever told you that you are my favorite?" Fuma's eyes widened a little, clearly caught off guard. Pretty, Nicholas' mind commentated, cute. Fuma's lips parted like he was going to say something—

"What is this, a k-drama?" Someone snorted and Nicholas whipped his head around.

Nicholas scowled, "You little—" before launching himself at Yuma.

He was grateful, he supposed. Any longer with Fuma looking at him like that would probably end up in something he would regret doing. Or saying.

The nervous energy was still there when he got on stage. The memories of the dream had faded a bit but Nicholas tried his best not to be looking at Fuma or near him while they were doing soundcheck.

But then Fuma was there, entirely too close yet Nicholas allowed it. Leaned back as Fuma's hand settled on his shoulder. His words were a wash of low tones over the sound of the crowd, curling against his ears, "What was it again? The Hokkien? Wǒ ài nǐ and…guá ài lí?"

Nicholas nodded, "Mn, guá ài lí." He half-turned, wanting to say more but Fuma's eyes were already on the crowd.

Sparkling as always as he smiled wide, "Luné, guá ài lí!" His pronunciation still wasn't the clearest but it didnt matter.

Nicholas muttered a reply, purposefully soft under his breath, "Guá mā ài lí." I love you too.

Fuma's hand stayed and that steady rhythm was being tapped against the slope of his shoulder, one two three, guá ài lí.

Nicholas forced his eyes away for a moment, to see the crowd cheering for Fuma. He turned to the older again with smile, but Fuma was already pushing away from him, eyes still on the crowd.

He liked the little proud look on Fuma's face as he gave Lunés a thumbs up. It almost made him wish that he wasn't himself— not Nicholas from &TEAM but merely one of the fans in the crowd. He would be anything if it meant receiving Fuma's affection so easily.

Backstage, Nicholas couldn't help but wonder if there would be video evidence of it. Of the way Nicholas stared at Fuma as he declared his love for his fans. If they would catch the words Nicholas whispered under his breath. If they would know by looking closely that Nicholas was madly in love with Fuma while Fuma himself was none the wiser.

It didn't matter. Nicholas pushed the thought far away because for now what mattered was this. The stage. The lights and the introduction that he had rehearsed many times in his head.

The moment Nicholas stepped onto the stage, it felt like that undefined urgency finally slotted into place. He turned his head, slow and practiced and like accelerant that had caught, the world was set ablaze.

The crowd's cheers were deafening, competing with the rapid thud of Nicholas' heart in his ears. The steady tempo from his in-ears uprooted him, and he raised his head to see them.

His team. His family. His home, shared in the hearts of eight others.

The concert felt like a raging wildfire. All too quick, they had run through their first three songs. The members introduced themselves, speaking their excitement into words.

When it got to his own introduction, Nicholas took his in-ear out, "Wǒ lái le! &TEAM de Wang Yixiang-desu!" The members chuckled a little at his words. And Nicholas got to chose a few people to say some Mandarin phrases.

He looked at his members, his eyes drifting to Fuma naturally. The older was all the way on the other side of the line. Nicholas half-wished they were a little closer.

"Okay, Fuma-kun," He found himself saying. "Let's go."

Fuma's shoulders jumped, "Me?"

Nicholas could see the camera change, the older's face all over the big screen. Fuma's smile stretched out wide, "Luné! Wǒ ài nǐ!"

The crowd cheered and Nicholas tilted his head. How odd. It wasn't like Fuma to forget. He was usually so good at remembering every little detail, meticulous to a point. Especially since they were just practicing earlier.

He raised his microphone again, "What about the one I taught you?"

Fuma looked a bit startled, "But it's wǒ ài nǐmen, right?"

"Mhm, but what about guá ài lí?"

Fuma brightened, "Ah! Luné, guá ài lí!" His pronunciation slipped a bit, the l turning into an r-sound, but everyone understood him perfectly. It hit Nicholas right in the chest that he wanted it. Wanted Fuma to say it just for him to hear.

More than that, Nicholas couldn't take his eyes off the screen, where Fuma's expression shifted into looking pleased with himself. The camera shifted and Nicholas saw himself. More specifically the dumb, lovesick expression on his face. He shook it off, "Okay, next person!"

From then on, Nicholas poured out everything he had into this concert. He spent a lot of time looking into the crowd when he wasn't focused performing, and more often than not, there was always someone looking back. There were various expressions of happiness and excitement. Different banners with all iterations of their names, with welcome back messages, and cheers— all for them. It made his heart full from the amount of warmth that filled each and every crevice of his being.

His eyes would land on the members too, simply looking at them. At the way they moved and danced and smiled because they were here. Nicholas' hometown. A concert hall just down the street from where he grew up.

Nicholas lost count of how many times he caught the members' eyes, smiling at them dumbly in the middle of each performance. He was sure he caught Kei looking at him once, and Euijoo a few times. But worst of all, Fuma was looking at him too. Fuma whose face broke out into a childlike grin as soon as Nicholas met his eyes.

When Nicholas sang out to the crowd and they sang back to him, wonderful and bright, it finally felt like all the anxiety, worry, and other forms of unease had finally faded from his mind. He sent kisses toward his family in the crowd, he jumped around as much as he could for their never-ending Chincha Okashii. Even Euijoo was jumping around with him.

As they got off stage after their encore after an encore, Nicholas felt ridiculously light. A drifting wind could've probably stolen him away if it weren't for the heavy arm that immediately pulled him close. To his surprise it was Kei.

"Good job up there," Kei murmured, voice soft and mushy in a way that sounded close to crying. "I love you so much, Nico."

Nicholas wrinkled his nose, laughing a little into their eldest's shoulder, "That's so sappy."

"Shut up, I'm being emotional," Kei pulled back to ungracefully wipe at his eyes. Thank goodness the concert was over or else their makeup noona would've thrown a tantrum.

"I love you too, hyung," Nicholas tacked the honorific on, a lump in his throat. "Thank you for debuting with me." Kei instantly punched him in the shoulder and Nicholas grabbed the spot.

"Ow—"

"Don't say stuff like that!" Kei said, turning around thought Nicholas didn't miss the new tears lining his eyes. "Anyways, we need to get changed! We're going to your house, right?"

And that was right. His parents had invited them over. Well, the members who were still up to it. Unsurprisingly, Maki insisted on coming and so did Kei. Jo also volunteered to come, and—

"You're coming with us too, right, Fuma?" Kei hooked an arm around Fuma's shoulders. Fuma stumbled a little, hand on his bag and quite literally put on the spot. Nicholas tried not to look too hopeful about it.

"Well…" Fuma said, hesitance clear in his voice. Nicholas convinced himself that he had no hope. Fuma liked to have his alone time. Why would he ever say— "If there's good food?"

Nicholas' head snapped up and— oh, everyone's staring at him. He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, "Yeah. Um, my ma's going to order us some food from a restaurant. Any preference on cuisine?"

"Dude, we've gotta get our fill of Taiwanese food," Maki said, throwing an easy arm around Nicholas' shoulder. "Please tell me you'll order lots of meat."

"We'll order meat for you. And rice for you, Jojo…and, do you two want anything in particular?"

When Nicholas turned, Kei looked strangely pleased with himself while Fuma coughed into his fist. There was a slight tint to his ears like he was embarrassed.

"Hmm? What was that?" Kei said while elbowing Fuma.

"Food?" Nicholas repeated, trying not to think about what Kei might've said to elicit such a reaction. "Do you want to eat something specific?"

"Anything you want, Nico," Fuma said, before weakly adding on. "You're the local." Kei coughed, or maybe he was trying to stifle a laugh because he had a massive smile on his face. It must've been some sort of inside joke. Kei and Fuma had those, probably. Something pulled tight in his stomach. Then he let it go.

The five of them piled into the car and Maki started playing another Mandarin song Nicholas once sang. Nicholas laughed at all the mispronunciations, squished into Kei's side as he rocked them side to side. Their manager told them not to be too rowdy but the complaint fell on deaf ears.

When they arrived at home, Nicholas fell into his Mā's open arms. He gave her a small spin, grinning when she started smacking at him to let her down.

"Cheeky as ever," She said, before moving to hug the other members. His jie was there too. She had told him that she took a few days of leave so she could see him.

"When else am I going to see my baby brother?" She had said over the phone. But seeing her in front of him right now made Nicholas ridiculously happy.

"What's with that grin?" She teased before ruffling his hair. He batted away her hand but she pressed in closer, "Shouldn't you save that for your yingxiong, hmm?"

This time, Nicholas didn't immediately turn around, "Jie, please." Still, he couldn't help but look back. Like an unrequited Orpheus whose Eurydice didn't need saving. Fuma was being ushered to sit by his Mā. It was funny, to see a tall, bulky guy lowering his head and being so careful around his Mā. It also made his heart hurt.

She smiled like the cat that got the cream, "Alright, alright. Just teasing." Maybe this was where he got it from, he realized then. His proneness to teasing others. The quick wittedness he sharpened under his jie's gaze.

That was when his Bà clapped, "Yixiang, tell them all to sit. The food will be here soon, for now let's drink!"

"Bà," Nicholas said nervously. "Is that a good idea?"

His Bà remained resolute, "Afraid I'll drink you under the table? Tell them it's on me."

Predictably, all hell broke loose right after. His Ba cracked open a new bottle of plum liquor, insisting on mixing drinks for everybody. Maki immediately got goaded into a drinking game, and Nicholas could only watch as his Bà won two times in a row against their youngest. Nicholas nursed his second cup, laughing alone as Maki started pouting. It wasn't like Nicholas could've warned him that his Bà was unbeatable when it came to these kind of drinking games.

Everything which would've been funnier if Nicholas wasn't sat right across from Fuma. Fuma looked relaxed, eyeing Maki over his own beer glass and Nicholas felt something kick in his stomach. There was something about seeing Fuma so loose, his limbs draped over the back of the couch that made Nicholas want to look at him more.

"Stop staring," His jie said as she nudged him. "Pour me another one instead." Nicholas felt his cheeks flame a little, alcohol settling into his veins at an alarming rate.

"Tyrant," Nicholas grumbled but he poured her another glass.

"Yixiang, help me with the food," His Mā called out.

"I'm coming!" He replied before slipping out and into the kitchen. His Mā was there, the sight so nostalgic that he stalled for a moment. It felt like childhood, when Nicholas was Yixiang, waist-height and peering over the countertop whenever his Māma cooked. Only now he easily towered over her, and her hands were slowed down, relaxed with age.

"Xiang-Xiang," His Mā said in that tone of hers. "Go bring this out quickly, your friends must be starving."

Mechanically, he brought out the plates and plates of food. It seemed they had ordered plenty of meat dishes, much to Maki's apparent delight. Maki, who now had a guitar in his lap, while his Bà taught him how to play the song they had sung in the car moments before. Kei was cheering them on, phone in hand as Jo used the flashlight on his phone as a makeshift penlight.

Nicholas watched for a moment before noticing that Fuma wasn't there. He made eyecontact with his jie, who just tilted her head toward the hallway.

There, against the door jamb was Fuma. He was smiling, something softer that didn't usually show up on camera. It was his real smile, Nicholas thought, the kind that only showed up when he wasn't being watched. Except he was being watched, because Nicholas couldn't take his eyes off him.

Nicholas didn't realize he was walking up to him until Fuma's eyes drifted, finally meeting his own. The brief eye contact had him pausing, and for a second Nicholas hesitated to say something. Fuma simply looked at him, not saying a word.

"Um," Nicholas' tongue felt heavier, and all of a sudden he was aware of the laughter happening in front of them. His eyes swept over the tipsy mass before going back to Fuma, who seemed to still be looking at him. "Do you want to go somewhere quieter for a bit?"

Fuma nodded, "Sure."

So Nicholas led, walking down the darkened hallway and looking back every few steps to make sure that Fuma was there. If he thought he was Orpheus earlier, then he was certainly Orpheus now. Except, nothing would take away his Eurydice if she didn't know of his devotion.

When they reached the last door, Nicholas opened the door quietly. Or, tried to. He must've been out of practice because a small squeak sounded.

"There's an angle for that," Nicholas said absentmindedly. "To make sure it doesn't squeak."

"This is…" Fuma looked out at the room.

"Oh. Yeah. My room," Nicholas sat down on the bed. The sheets smelled fresh, his Mā must've changed it recently for his return. He thumbed over the small flowers on the pillowcase. "Haven't been in here in so long."

Fuma took a slow turn around the room. There…really wasn't much that was interesting. Certificates of excellence, medals and trophies for badminton. Framed photos of him and his b-boy crew, polaroids and other photos pinned onto the wall. Drawings and scribbled notes with test reminders. Everything that he had left behind when he got scouted and moved to Korea long ago.

A perfect time capsule of Wang Yixiang before he became &TEAM's Nicholas.

Even then, the blank parts of his walls were plastered with more stuff. There was a shelf in the corner with all their albums, everything neatly chronological. There were framed newspapers from the last time they had done their tour in Taipei. There were slogans that people either gifted, or his Mā had splurged on.

It neatly bordered the past Yixiang, consolidating that life with who he was now. His childhood photos hung with posters of him, and his trophies stood next to photos of them receiving awards.

Fuma's fingers brushed over one of the medals with a clink, "You really tried everything when you were a kid, huh?" Nicholas hummed out his reply. Fuma looked at everything with such rapt attention, taking in Nicholas' past with such curiosity. Fuma cared.

Surely it wouldn't hurt to try?

"I have a crazy theory," Nicholas started, tongue feeling a little loose. A little braver but no less unafraid. "You…didn't need to practice Mandarin. With me."

Fuma didn't react and Nicholas felt the need to keep talking, "You're always so…capable. You could've…searched it up, but instead, you—"

"And why would I do that?" From anyone else, the question might sound sharp. Defensive. But the way Fuma said it felt like some sort of admittance. Like he wanted Nicholas to keep going, to keep picking him apart because there was something there.

"I don't…" Nicholas searched Fuma's face. There wasn't anything special there, Fuma's eyes were as assessing as always. But it felt different, somehow. "You're…"

He stood, pressing in closer like the distance was what was off. To his surprise, Fuma did shift. His eyes softened a little, hands coming up to Nicholas' shoulders to stop him from getting too close.

"Oh," The moonlight cut through the room, illuminating part of Fuma's face. "You're blushing."

Fuma released a long sigh, "You don't have to say that part out loud."

But it was true. Fuma was averting his gaze now, and with his tilted face came full view of the flush mantling his cheeks. Hazy pink in the paleness of the moon and streetlight.

Nicholas wanted to reach out to touch. He shook his head free from the thought, taking Fuma's wrist instead. Nicholas settled down onto the bed, watching Fuma sit, posture rigid like he was being interrogated.

"I liked hearing you say it," Fuma turned to face him, still not quite looking at Nicholas. "There's something about when you speak Mandarin…it's different. Beautiful, in a way."

"You…like my voice in Mandarin?" Nicholas wasn't purposefully trying to be obtuse. His heart was beating a frantic melody against his throat, Japanese tones tangling against the roof of his mouth. He was just…

"Am I understanding that right?" Nicholas asked, feeling a bit helpless. He wanted to add something about it being his fourth language. Something about how he didn't want to misunderstand.

But then Fuma moved.

His hand settled over Nicholas' in a death grip, clammy palm to clammy palm. "It's not just that," There was hesitation in Fuma's tone as he continued. "I…liked hearing you speak it. To me."

The sentence arrived like a hit to the solar plexus.

It. Nicholas turned the sentence in his mind, winded. What was 'it'? He recalled the phrases they had practiced. A simple introduction, some hellos and goodbyes but most importantly—

Fuma's finger tapped at the back of his palm nervously, in intervals of three. One, two, three, one two three, guá ài lí.

"You could've... I would've…" Nicholas trailed off, squeezing their entwined hands. Fuma didn't say anything more but he didn't pull away.

Euijoo's voice rattled in his head, What's the difference between that and saying something?

The difference was the risk. The difference was the world.

But to Nicholas, the world as it was narrowed down to this: the man he'd been in love with for so long, sitting in his childhood bedroom. An almost confession floating between them.

If Nicholas didn't say anything he'd regret it for the rest of his life.

Nicholas could do it afraid. He did so many things afraid, certain stages, photoshoots, bungee jumping. A confession should be nothing, yet Nicholas felt himself tremble and tilt as he fully turned towards the older.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Nicholas started. Fuma nodded, and Nicholas brought their entwined hands between them.

He took a breath, all shaky exhale as he admitted, "I meant it. Every single time."

Fuma inhaled sharply. Nicholas braced himself for…he didn't know what he was bracing for. But he couldn't take his eyes away from the bottom of Fuma's face. At the surprised part of his mouth. Trying not to look him in the eye

That was why he missed it when Fuma's hand trailed up to his cheek. He flinched a little, before letting it settle over his skin. But then Fuma was pulling himself closer. Nicholas closed his eyes against the sight of it.

"Can I also tell you a secret?" Fuma's voice spilled out like smoke, hushed and low.

Nicholas gave a single nod.

"Could you look at me while I do?"

Nicholas was helpless to open his eyes.

This time, there was no moonlight to illuminate his expression. From this close, Nicholas didn't need it.

There was a nervousness to Fuma's expression that Nicholas had only seen a handful of times before. Before important performances at award shows, or MC-ing gigs. Fuma seldom physically looked nervous. Yet here he was, brow furrowed and front teeth pressed into his bottom lip like that could alleviate the tension.

And then he was speaking.

"I meant it too," Fuma's voice was lighter than a breath. "That's why I was so afraid."

There was a pause, probably for longer than necessary while Nicholas processed the words. The words, punctuated with a rendition of Fuma's voice as he spoke Nicholas' language. As he secretly confessed in a language— not his own, but Nicholas'.

"You like me," Nicholas heaved out, the syllables fragile yet heavy.

Fuma smiled, something just for him, "You like me too…right?" Nicholas nodded at the words and Fuma's thumb brushed over his cheek. "I'm sorry it took me so long to—"

Nicholas pulled him in until Fuma was mere centimeters away, "Don't apologize. Please don't I—" Nicholas squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, opening them to find Fuma staring.

"Then I won't," Fuma's other hand carefully found Nicholas' waist, simply holding. "Wang Yixiang, 我爱你."

我爱你 (wǒ ài nǐ). The words he wanted to hear from Fuma in his own mother tongue. The very reciprocation he was waiting for all along.

His heart cracked open in the cavity of his chest. Nicholas leaned in, right until he could feel Fuma's breaths against his lip. He smelled faintly of alcohol and cologne and sweat. Nicholas wanted nothing more than to feel him even closer.

"Again."

"Wǒ ài nǐ."

"Once more."

"Wǒ ài nǐ, Nicholas."

"One more time, please."

"I'll say it as many times as you want," Fuma's lips brushed against his with each syllable. "Guá ài lí, Yixiang."

Nicholas melted into the kiss like it was instinctive. Fuma accepted him like they'd done it a hundred times before. It was a bit clumsy, nothing more than a press of lips but Nicholas felt undone by it. By the warmth of Fuma's breath against his, by the hand that held his face gentle, by the words still being murmured against his mouth.

All iterations of love that Nicholas had taught Fuma over the past few days.

It all felt like too much. But this time around he didn't feel any fear. He knew that Fuma would be there to catch him, so he let himself fall.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

iv. your love, a turning page

Kissing Nicholas didn't feel at all like what Fuma had expected. He had expected confidence, the breath rushing out of his lungs prematurely with a squeeze.

But this?

This was more perfect than Fuma could've ever imagined.

Nicholas was soft against him, all edges worn down by the sheer intensity of feelings between them. His lips were soft, his cheeks were soft when they pressed close enough, even the faint shuddering of his breath was soft. He tasted a little like the plum liquor they drank earlier and Fuma would've gotten drunk on him if he could.

But then a sob escaped the younger's lips, right into Fuma's waiting mouth. Fuma tried to pull back but Nicholas' hand fisted into his shirt, chasing him harder. But then their lips stifled another half-sob and Fuma firmly pried himself away.

The evidence was there against Nicholas' cheeks, dripping down to his chin. Fuma's chest went taut with horror.

"Are you okay?" Fuma started wiping at the tears, watching as Nicholas' eyes fall open a little, brow pinched. Nicholas looked unfairly beautiful like this too, even as he stuttered through another breath.

"Happy," Nicholas said in Japanese, the end of the word tapering off into a sob.

幸せ (shiawase). Happiness as a state of being. Long-lasting contentment.

Relief flooded him instantly. These tears weren't sad. They were evidence that Nicholas felt the same. Happiness in its truest form, warm against Fuma's palm and salty when their lips meet again.

Fuma held Nicholas close with a hand at his nape, being careful to avoid his hair. He kissed at Nicholas' tear stained cheeks, pressing a few more over his damp eyelashes. Against his temple, and down to his jaw before finally, once again over his mouth. Nicholas returned the intensity tenfold, his lips dizzyingly insistent against Fuma's own.

When Nicholas pulled back for a breath, his forehead stayed pressed against Fuma's own. Fuma forced himself to open his eyes, not wanting to miss a single moment because…

Nicholas had said it. He said it first. Fuma had always been a coward when it came to his feelings. But Nicholas. Sweet, brave Nicholas had taken that first step toward him in defining the feelings between them.

He meant every word, Fuma's brain reminded him and something kicked unfairly hard in Fuma's stomach. It still felt unbelievable even like this, with Nicholas half-on his lap trying to catch his breath.

Fuma brushed away the last of the tears as Nicholas finally opened his eyes. There was something there. Trust, Fuma thought, and something that was probably love.

"I…" Fuma started. But he felt at a loss. Usually he could string together words under the guise of false confidence. Right here in front of Nicholas, all the usual confidence he wielded had fled.

There was a knock on the door and Nicholas pulled away a little further. His hand still stayed tangled with Fuma's own.

"Come in," Nicholas said in English, hands scrubbing at his own eyes.

Nicholas' sister was there, head popping into the room, "Yixiang, the food's getting cold, everybody's…" Her eyes finally looked at Nicholas. Even if Fuma didn't understand her words, he knew what anger looked like in someone's eyes.

For a moment Fuma considered getting on his knees and bowing down to her, but then Nicholas piped up, voice hoarse, "Happy tears, jie. Don't kill him with your glare."

Whatever Nicholas said must've been enough. Her stare softened going from Fuma to Nicholas to Fuma again. She stepped in further, rubbing over Nicholas' cheek before settling her stare on him. Like this he understood where Nicholas got his intimidating face from.

"Ten minutes," She said in crisp English. "Take care of him." She then turned on her heel, walking out of the bedroom in seconds. Fuma's mind processed the words. He wasn't the best at English, but he understood that she was giving them a time. The second sentence…

"She said, 'Take care of him', just now," Nicholas said, sniffling lightly. "Anyway, we have ten minutes to get out there before my Mā knocks. She's worried the food's gone cold." The younger started fussing with his hair. Fuma moved to do the same with his own.

"How do I look?" Nicholas asked, turning to face him.

"You look…" Beautiful, Fuma wanted to say. Even with messed up hair and red-rimmed eyes, Nicholas couldn't be anything less than beautiful. Instead Fuma settled for, "They'll definitely know you were crying."

"Fuck," Nicholas said, the English expletive rolling off his tongue with a groan. "Help me fix my hair at least." Fuma hesitantly moved a few of the strands around, flattening down a small section that was sticking up. Nicholas stayed obediently still. Rather it felt like Fuma was the one being watched.

"I don't dislike getting my hair touched all the time," Nicholas mumbled, looking down. "It's just sometimes. And when people do it without permission."

Fuma nodded, "Okay."

Neither of them moved. Nicholas' hand wormed its way into Fuma's own again, but…

"You could tell them that you started getting emotional when you saw your room," Fuma said, not moving an inch.

"That's a good excuse," Nicholas said, swinging their arms in place.

Fuma could be responsible. He should be, but it was so hard when it came to Nicholas.

"Let's go before your mother comes knocking?" Fuma said, tentative. In a predictable turn of events, Nicholas pouted.

"One more kiss?" He asked, and who was Fuma to deny him?

He leaned in, intending on a short peck, but Nicholas' hand said otherwise. It slid up to his nape, holding Fuma firm against him. His lips parted a little, tongue swiping at Fuma's bottom lip with intention. The gasp was punched out of his lungs as Nicholas pulled back, looking pleased with himself.

"Sorry, I just…I've been wanting to do that all day," Nicholas sighed and Fuma couldn't help but gape at him a little. Nicholas smiled before pulling at their still-combined hands.

The living room looked like a mess, half-eaten dishes strewn about. More importantly, Jo was flushed up to his ears and Maki was lying down on the ground with the guitar on his chest. Kei seemed to be the most coherent, talking to Nicholas' father using a translator app.

The person who looked up first was Nicholas' mom, instantly pulling her son to sit and scolding him. Or what Fuma thought was scolding. Nicholas didn't let go, instead pulling Fuma next to him.

"Yes, yes, I'll eat," Nicholas replied before speaking to him in Japanese, voice still a bit quiet. "What do you want to try?"

"Fuma would eat dirt if you asked him to," Kei drawled, cushioning his head on his hand. Fuma couldn't help but frown at the comment. He most certainly would not.

Nicholas seemed to find it funny, a quiet laugh escaping him, "There's no way I'd ask that. Here, you're avoiding greasy foods, right?" Nicholas pushed forward a bowl of rice, veggies and what looked to be steamed fish on top. Fuma had to stop himself from reconfessing his love to the younger right there and then.

"Don't be fooled," Maki said before hiccuping. "He's jus' tryna not eat veggies." Nicholas flicked his shoulder. Then Maki sat up, looking very seriously toward Nicholas, "Didya cry? Your eyes're red."

Nicholas blinked, "Um, yeah. I was looking at my bedroom and I got super emotional all of a sudden, so…"

Jo stood up all of a sudden, walking around and stoically sitting behind Nicholas before pulling him into a hug. Kei snorted so loud he had to cough as Maki joined in on the hug. Maki let out a few 'it's okay to cry's and 'we're here for you's which Nicholas had to take in stride. Not to mention his mother's cooing and coddling.

Fuma made eye contact with Kei who mouthed to him, "Holding hands." before nodding his head down.

Fuma's hand flexed in Nicholas' hold.

They were caught.

He knew that nothing would get past Kei, but it still astounded him to see it happen so quick. Still he was grateful to have him here. Fuma nodded a little and Kei's smile grew.

Then the eldest was clapping his hands, "Okay, that's enough. We'll let these two eat and then go back to the hotel, okay?"

When the time came, Kei managed to push Jo and Maki out of the door with their manager's help. Fuma went next while Nicholas brought up the rear.

He lagged behind, waiting for Nicholas.

He knew that this would be goodbye for now. Nicholas had a magazine shoot tomorrow and then they had their flights right after. There would be no more time to say goodbye to his family then.

Fuma tried not to get caught waiting, but his luck seemed to have run out for the day. When Fuma looked up, he came face to face with Nicholas' father.

"Ah," Fuma bowed a little to him.

Nicholas' father had this serious expression on his face, before he clapped Fuma on the back. It was warm, like the feeling of meeting a relative you haven't seen in a while.

He pulled out his phone, starting to speak into it. Speech-to-text. It was so Nicholas that it made Fuma smile.

It took another moment for the mechanical Japanese voice to read out, "Fuma-san, thank you for coming tonight. Thank you for watching over my son. All you members are family to us and to Yixiang."

Fuma shook his head, before saying, "Of course" in his rusty English.

Nicholas' father smiled, and there was something so reminiscent of the Nicholas he knew there. Maybe it was the smile lines, betraying the serious expression on his face by insinuating joy.

Then he was saying something else, the voice spitting out, "Our Yixiang isn't good at being subtle. He cares for you a lot. So please take care of him."

The insinuation made Fuma pause. How much did he know of the extent of Nicholas' feelings? Of Fuma's own?

Nicholas' father tilted his head before re-emphasizing, "Yixiang cares for you a lot."

Fuma nodded, "I know."

In theory, Fuma knew that Nicholas was fiercely protective of the members. But Fuma thought that he was somehow exempt from that level of care. It was startling to realize now just how wrong Fuma of the past was.

Nicholas' father said one last thing into his phone, looking directly at Fuma. His broad palm rested against his shoulder as the voice said, "Please protect his heart."

He placed a hand over his heart, "Xin."

Fuma understood even without the translator, "Heart."

Despite not sharing a language, a clear understanding settled between them.

"Okay?" The older man asked in English.

Fuma nodded, determined, "Okay."

Nicholas walked out with his mother seconds later, looking a bit puzzled, "What are you doing here?"

Fuma half-shrugged, "I was waiting for you."

"What did you say?" Nicholas asked to his father who just shook his head before turning to Fuma. "What did he ask?"

"Secret," Fuma said in English and Nicholas' father errupted into laughter, clapping him on the back merrily.

Nicholas' mother beamed as she looked at him, untangling from Nicholas to pull Fuma into a hug.

She sounded sweet as she spoke, tones and words immediately lost on Fuma, "The group's steady shield. You'll watch over our Yixiang, right?"

"Mā," Nicholas muttered in a weak complaint as she pressed a kiss to Fuma's cheek, patting it.

All Fuma understood was Yixiang. Whatever was said Fuma readily agreed with a quick 'yes'. She gave his arm one last squeeze before letting go.

Nicholas replaced her soon enough, settling by Fuma's side as he looked back at his family.

"Come back soon, didi," Nicholas' sister called out from the door in English. That much Fuma understood.

Nicholas answered, "I will." before they were walking back to the van.

When they looked inside, Maki and Jo seemed to be dozing off in the backseat with Kei taking shotgun next to their manager. Nicholas took the middle seat despite there being no need, his thigh pressed against Fuma's as he buckled himself in.

Nicholas didn't quite look at him. His eyes were on the window, watching as his neighborhood faded away into unfamiliar streets and high rise buildings.

His expression looked subdued and quietly— very quietly over the rumble of the engine and the conversation up front— Fuma could hear the soft hitch of his breath like he was holding back a cry.

The younger's hand was fiddling with the buttons on Fuma's flannel and he was grateful because that gave him a chance to pull out his phone. He clicked on his chat with Euijoo.

fuma:

> Euijoo, can you please do me a favor?

Euijoo, probably on his phone watching something, replied instantly.

euijoo:

> sure, what is it hyung?

fuma:

> Switch rooms with Nicholas for the night?

euijoo:

> ??????????

> HYUNG WHAT THE HELL??

Oh. Right.

That probably wasn't the best way to word things, now that Fuma was thinking about it. He understood what Euijoo could be thinking, along with the sudden request to switch rooms.

fuma:

> Not like that.

> He's just|

Fuma wasn't sure how to put it. Sad? Heartbroken? It was a different emotion than both of those. The steady click of Nicholas' rings as he worried over the buttons made him pause. Fuma settled on this,

fuma:

> We talked a little at his house. I'll tell you more tomorrow.

> But I don't want him to be alone tonight.

> He looks…

Fuma sent the last message, incomplete as it was. Euijoo's response felt like a balm.

euijoo:

> i get what you mean. i trust your judgement.

> i'll bring his stuff over.

And then a second later.

euijoo:

> and tell nico he owes me ramen when we get back to japan.

Fuma almost wanted to ask but he held back. Whatever that was, it was between Euijoo and Nicholas.

By the time they reached the hotel, Kei and the manager had wrangled a sleepy Jo and Maki each. Fuma watched with abject fascination as Maki muttered English to Kei under his breath while Jo turned into a ragdoll in their manager's arms.

"You two will be alright to go on your own?" Their manager asked and they exchanged a look. Fuma tried not to focus on how Nicholas' eyes looked red under the lobby's bright lights.

"Yeah, we'll be fine," Fuma said, letting his hand lift to Nicholas' back. Nicholas relaxed into the touch as they entered the elevator. The others got off on the fourth floor while they stayed on till the fifth.

As they stepped out, Fuma deftly steered him toward their rooms. Nicholas and Harua's room was 519, but Fuma kept pushing him towards his and Euijoo's.

"What's going on?" Nicholas asked, glancing at him sidelong. There was no resistance as Fuma pushed him forward, palm now against his lower back.

"I asked Euijoo to switch rooms with you for the night," Fuma murmured, just as they reached the door. "We'll share a room together."

"You're serious?" Nicholas said, clearly searching. Fuma patted his hip in confirmation before searching for the keycard in his bag.

When he looked up again, Nicholas was staring at the doorplate, "That's…a coincidence."

"What is?" Fuma didn't quite understand even as he tapped them in.

"The room number," Nicholas said, waiting on Fuma as he chained the door and locked it. Precautions. He didn't like sleeping with the door unchained, just in case.

"Five-two-zero," Nicholas continued when Fuma turned around. "It's internet slang in Mandarin, for, y'know," Nicholas rocked a little on his feet, all nervous energy, "I love you."

"Oh," The syllable jumped out before Fuma could stop it, really. "That's…that is a coincidence."

Fuma's nails bit into the skin of his palm. Was this how Nicholas felt earlier? When Fuma was saying those exact same words to him in his mother tongue?

It was puzzling, really. Fuma had heard those words being uttered so many times from Nicholas. But now the proximity made Fuma's heart ache.

He almost missed Nicholas stepping closer to him, eyes filled with intent as he backed Fuma up against the hotel room door. Hysterically, Fuma felt a bit like he was being hunted. Just a bit.

"Fuma-kun, I wanted to tell you as well," Nicholas reached for his hands, bringing them between their bodies. "I've loved you for years and I was deathly afraid that it— my feelings, would somehow, um," Puzzlement fell over Nicholas' face before he settled on a word. "Bring ruin to the group?"

Fuma almost wanted to laugh at the word choice. It was so silly, so out of place for such earnestness. But he kept quiet.

"You're just…how do you say?" Nicholas' brow furrowed again. "Ah, my brain isn't working right now. I'm getting jumbled up."

Fuma brought him closer, "It's okay. You can continue another time." Nicholas frowned a little, but Fuma knew that look. It wasn't real upset, closer to disappointment than anything.

Nicholas stared at him for a moment, "I can say this at least.

"I love you."

好きです (suki desu). Short and straight-forward and so very overwhelming all the same.

Nicholas edged in closer, pressing a kiss to Fuma's cheek, right above the clench of his jaw, "I love you so much, Fuma."

Fuma's hands reached out, eager to touch, "You're seriously…" Nicholas let him, Fuma's hands putting them chest to chest.

"Can we kiss again?" Nicholas asked, mere centimeters of heated air between them. Fuma's tongue swiped at his bottom lip, savoring in the way Nicholas' eyes tracked the movement.

"Mhm," Fuma pulled him in at last, their lips meeting in a tender slide. Nicholas' hand fisted at Fuma's flannel, pressing him against the door.

It was as mind-numbing as the first time, Fuma's hand drifting down to Nicholas' back to cradle him closer. Nicholas moved slow against him, languid like they had all the time in the world.

They pulled apart, though it could hardly be considered that as they panted into each others' mouths. Fuma's eyes snapped open only to see Nicholas looking at him. The younger pressed another short kiss to the corner of his open mouth.

"愛してるよ," The words were whispered but it hit Fuma right in the gut.

愛してるよ (aishiteruyo). I love you in its deepest form. He pulled back a little more, cupping Nicholas' face.

"That's quite a serious claim," Fuma tried to jest but there was something painfully honest and shaky about the sentence.

"I know," Nicholas said before tilting his face, pressing a kiss to the inside of Fuma's palm. "I told you, I meant it." Nicholas was being serious. Fuma could see it in his eyes.

So he brought the younger's face closer. Nicholas bent under his touch like a flower following the sun. Except Fuma wasn't the sun, he was greedier and all consuming because all he could think about was wanting more and wanting to be close.

When they kiss again for the…Fuma had already lost count of how many they shared. All he knew was that it felt right every single time.

Except this time Fuma felt the heat of the burning sun under his palms and against his lips. Maybe Fuma wasn't the sun, but the flower and the trees bending to Nicholas instead.

Nicholas' lips parted, head tilting between Fuma's palms as his tongue brushed over Fuma's bottom lip again. He was helpless to melt under Nicholas' touch, his own mouth parting under Nicholas' lead.

Heat suffused his chest as Nicholas experimentally licked into his mouth. A noise punched out of Fuma's chest, one that he didn't know he was capable of. It felt—

Hot. Wet. Slick.

The adjectives bounced around his head and he didn't know what to do but to respond. His tongue brushed against Nicholas' own and it felt so foreign yet right that he froze a little.

Nicholas pulled back with a smile. They were still close, still unwilling to part even for a second. His mind felt frazzled as he gulped down a breath. The air between them was humid despite the air conditioning blasting overhead.

"Was that okay?" Nicholas asked, his own hand at Fuma's jaw.

"Y-Yeah, I just," Fuma leaned closer, his nose brushing Nicholas' temple. "That was new."

"New bad or new good?" The younger's breath hit Fuma right against the collarbone and it made him shiver.

"Good, um…"

Nicholas hummed, "What was it like?"

And this was probably an opportunity for Fuma to say something sexy. But what came out of his mouth instead was, "Wet…and um, I tasted a bit of the…yan su ji you were eating earlier. At the beginning."

For a moment the air stilled. Fuma felt a thousand regrets line his throat.

The next moment Nicholas was tilting back, a laugh tearing out of his chest, "That's what you paid attention to?"

"No, wait—"

"Wow, I have to practice being more hot or something," Nicholas said between his laughter. Please don't, Fuma said internally, You're already hot enough to leave me tongue tied.

Nicholas considered a bit, "You did taste a bit like green beans as well, but—" Then he was off again, laughing away.

Nicholas always laughed with such reckless abandon. It was even more emphasized by the length of his neck as his head tipped back. It almost looked like he would fall.

He wouldn't. Fuma had his arms around him, holding him close.

After Nicholas had finally stopped laughing enough, he hopped into the shower.

"I'll seriously be quick," Nicholas had said before closing the door.

Fuma collapsed onto the bed, knees weak. Truth be told, the door was doing a lot of the heavy lifting of keeping him upright earlier. Nicholas just had that kind of effect on him.

When he pressed his fingers to his lips, he could almost feel Nicholas there. Pure, phantom sensation, seared so very clearly into memory.

This was bad for him. Now that he had gotten a taste, he'd want it always.

The door clicked open like the world knew what Fuma was thinking. Nicholas stepped out, towel around his waist and neck. His hair looked dripping wet as he made his way over to where the hairdryer was.

Fuma couldn't take his eyes off his chest and waist, at the way the muscles on his back rippled as he turned. He'd seen this before. Nicholas' bare body. Usually in flashes between changing for performances. But it was foreign like this. To be able to look and keep looking like Nicholas had given his permission.

He snapped himself out of it, standing up, "Uhm, I'll go now." Nicholas hummed his reply.

Fuma took the quickest and coldest shower of his life. He stepped out with damp hair, the Eevee shirt he packed sticking slightly to his front.

He found Nicholas was lying on the bed. Starfished out and picking at something on the bottom of his shirt. His eyes looked a bit distant and Fuma wondered what he was thinking about.

So he asked.

"What are you thinking about?"

Nicholas doesn't flinch, almost like he was keenly aware that Fuma was there. He did turn, his body shifting to look at Fuma, "Hmm. About home."

Home was a difficult word to place for them, too many buildings and countries bearing that name.

Likely sensing Fuma's confusion, Nicholas continued, "About my family and Taiwan. About you guys. About how it'll probably be a while till we come back."

And really, it is regretful. Fuma wished that their schedule had a bit of give, but between the Mixpop concert and their own, there was only so much time. They didn't even have time to go to the night markets like Nicholas had wanted to. And tomorrow…

"You have a schedule tomorrow, right?"

Nicholas reached out toward him and Fuma complied, mattress dipping with his weight. Nicholas immediately turned his face against Fuma's thigh, voice muffled, "A photoshoot with Maki early in the morning."

Fuma smiled a little, patting his shoulder, "Well, you two can have breakfast together, at least."

"You're right," Nicholas said but his voice sounds a bit different. More choked up. Fuma ran his hand down Nicholas' back and he tightened his grip against Fuma's shorts.

No doubt that if he was in his room with Harua that he would've been crying in the shower or something similar. Nicholas wasn't one to cry often and definitely not in front of others.

"S-Sorry," Nicholas said after a while, his shoulders shaking from the force of his breaths. "I'll g-get you dirty." He tried to move away but Fuma held firm.

"I don't care about that," Fuma said gently and Nicholas let out a half-sob. "You don't have to apologize for crying. Not about this and not ever."

"Can you, um," Nicholas took in another wet breath, turning his face toward Fuma. All glistening eyes, reddened nose, and bitten lip. "H-Hold me? It's so stupid, but—"

Fuma gathered Nicholas into his arms.

It was simple, really, since Fuma had no thought of refusing him. He shifted so that Nicholas could lean comfortably onto him, Fuma's side flush against the bed. Nicholas' hand clutched at his shirt as he released another cry. The sound of it vibrated against the skin of Fuma's neck, sinking deeper into his bones.

Nicholas didn't stop crying for a while. Fuma didn't mind. The shoulder of his shirt was damp with tears but it was better than letting Nicholas cry on his own. Finally, Nicholas' hand unfurled from where it was holding Fuma close.

Fuma looked down, finding that Nicholas was already looking up at him. He sniffed a little, staring up at Fuma with imploring eyes. Fuma reached forward, wiping residual tears from Nicholas' eyelashes and cheeks.

Nicholas caught his wrist at his second pass, "I-It's dirty."

"It's not dirty," Fuma pulled his hand free, resting his hand against Nicholas' cheek. "I told you, it's fine."

Nicholas leaned against his palm though he frowned a little, "Ugh, my photoshoot. My eyes are going to be so puffy."

Fuma thumbed at his under eye, brushing over his sensitive eyelid, "You'll be fine. Just dunk your face in ice like K-hyung does."

"You hate me," Nicholas mumbled though he didn't try to break free, instead staring at Fuma's chest.

Ah. The shirt.

"It'll dry."

"But—"

"Eevee will be fine, Nico," Fuma smiled a little at the familiar pout on the younger's face. "Let's go to sleep?"

Nicholas didn't reply verbally, but he did move out of Fuma's arms. His hand wrapped around Fuma's wrist, crawling toward the top of the bed.

The request was clear but Nicholas still hesitated, "It's okay if you don't want to. You need to rest well, so..."

Fuma shook his head, "I want to."

And Nicholas was still searching despite his words, eyes running over Fuma's face like he really couldn't believe it. Fuma rolled his eyes, shoving Nicholas back into the pillows.

"Stay there, I'm grabbing the pillow from the other bed," Fuma said before saying softer. "Stop second guessing."

"I'm not," Nicholas said weakly. Usually Fuma was the liar but here Nicholas was. At least Nicholas was a pretty unconvincing liar. If he wasn't then Fuma would've been in trouble.

Fuma gathered the pillows, placing it on the bed. He turned off the light but Nicholas was eerily still. "Well? Are you going to scoot over?"

Nicholas' cheeks reddened, obvious even in the dark, "Who was the one telling me not to move?" Fuma didn't answer that one. It was cute how he listened so well sometimes. Something he might use against Nicholas in another situation.

Now that they were side by side again, Fuma felt it was surreal. Just that morning, Fuma was thinking about how to squeeze out hearing a few more 'I love you's from Nicholas before their trip ended. Now? Nicholas was looking at him with the world's stars in his eyes, tugging the blanket around them both.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Fuma had to ask. He had to know.

"Because I love you so much," Nicholas answered, so very easy and sure. "Thank you for staying, Fuma."

Fuma closed his eyes for a moment, the words ringing in his ears like a promise, "Thank you for being brave enough to tell me. I don't think I would've had the courage to tell you if it wasn't for your words."

"Honestly, I was scared the entire time but…I really wanted to tell you," Nicholas tilted his head, "But you're plenty brave, Fuma-kun."

"Not with this," Fuma shook his head, taking Nicholas' right hand closer to press a kiss to his fingertips. "I've never actually…confessed to someone before."

"Really?"

Fuma nodded as he pressed a kiss to his palm, before moving to his wrist. Nicholas' fingers twitched against his face before Fuma pulled him closer. Nicholas seemed to still be processing, so much that he doesn't flinch as Fuma kissed down further.

"So if you liked someone, you'd never say a word?" By the time Nicholas was focused back on him, Fuma's lips were brushing over the bottom of his forearm.

"Unless I knew for a fact that they liked me," Fuma said, his lips forming the words against the scar tucked in the crook of Nicholas' arm. "Otherwise, it'd just stay a secret."

Nicholas tilted his head, "Like your crush on Kei-hyung during our &Audition days?"

That was a low blow.

Fuma bit down lightly at the skin there in retaliation.

Nicholas whined, "Hey! I'm just saying!"

"Can you not mention another man while I'm kissing down your arm?" Fuma mumbled, though his ears heated all the same.

Nicholas laughed at that, his hand running through Fuma's hair, "There's nothing wrong with having a crush on Kei-hyung. I think that's a rite of passage for anyone that meets him, at this point." He tucked some hair behind Fuma's ear, "How did you even get a crush on me after Kei-hyung?"

"You're pretty loveable Nico," Fuma said, honesty tasting like victory. "Kei-hyung never stood a chance."

A beatific smile bloomed on Nicholas' face, "You're just saying that." Though his smile didn't wane even as he leaned in, lips brushing against Fuma's.

He liked it. This was the first time that Fuma had kissed someone who was smiling, and he really liked it. He could feel the stretch of Nicholas' lips, even as he giggled through a few more light kisses. He slowed down after a bit, settling down with a sigh and an arm thrown over Fuma's shoulder.

"I'm gonna miss Taipei," Nicholas murmured against Fuma's temple. "It's like a part of my heart will always be missing, not being here."

Fuma leaned in, nosing at Nicholas' neck, "It's never going to hurt any less. But I'm here for you, you know. We all are."

"I know," Nicholas' fingers combed through Fuma's hair. "I just…I don't want to be…"

A pause. There were too many words Nicholas could've said.

Fuma shifted so he could look at Nicholas. His hand came up to Nicholas' nape, "You're strong, but you don't have to do everything alone."

"That's not very good advice coming from you, hero," Nicholas moved and suddenly their foreheads were touching. Nicholas' round eyes bore into his, "I'm not alone now. You found me."

"You found me too," Fuma replied, and it wad surprisingly honest. It wasn't like he didn't want to be honest. But honesty when it came to this was a lot more difficult to come by. So Fuma took the first step this time, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before asking, "And you're…sure? About me staying?"

It was vaguely worded. It could've been about anything. Fuma was being vague on purpose, really.

"I've never been more sure about something in my entire life," Nicholas muttered, his legs tangling with Fuma's under the blankets like he was affirming he didn't want to let go. Fuma's other hand moved down to his waist just to touch. "Well, except for maybe moving to Korea back then. But that was mostly out of spite." Fuma remembered. The stories of young Nicholas not wanting to give in to his father's words and moving to a different country just to prove a point. Here he was now, trying to prove a point once again.

"And also," Nicholas' voice took on a softer tone, a little less sure. "We…can take it slow. If that's what you want. About the whole…being together thing. We don't have to…"

"I do want to," Fuma's fingers twitched against Nicholas' waist with the force of his wanting. "Be together. Be exclusive."

"Exclusive," Nicholas' voice wrapped around the Japanese word. "What does that mean?"

"Like…special," Fuma breathed out, nerves escaping with his breath. "But limited to one person."

"Exclusive, hmm," Nicholas' smile was barely contained. "You want me all to yourself?"

"Yes."

Fuma didn't care if he answered too quickly. He didn't care that the question was rhetorical. The surprise on Nicholas' face was worth it, even at the expense of the flush on his own.

"Okay. Let's do that," Nicholas said, nodding. It was cute. Fuma was sure that if there was more light that Nicholas would be flushed red, but for now, he settled for bringing a palm to his face. It was warm, like he expected. To make it extra clear, Nicholas added, "Let's be exclusive."

Fuma couldn't help but seal it with a soft kiss.

After a moment, Fuma found himself squished against Nicholas' chest. He didn't mind, nose pressed against the collar of Nicholas' shirt. He breathed in, the smell of clean skin and hotel soap invading his senses. Dazedly he realized that they probably smell the same. Fuma's stomach lurched with how much he liked the notion of it.

Nicholas was speaking about something but Fuma couldn't help but run his lips up the collar of his shirt, finding comfort in the warmth of his skin. He kissed up his neck, and that was when he heard Nicholas' sleepy voice stutter. He interrupted his next thought with a kiss, lazy and wanting before leaning back against the pillow. Nicholas blinked at him, continuing his thoughts but not without pressing a kiss to Fuma's nose and face every once in a while.

How sappy, Fuma thought. He loved it.

They fell asleep like that, exchanging kisses and hushed stories under the cover of night. Nicholas' eyes drooped quicker than he thought it would but the exhaustion of the concert was catching up to him too. Fuma threw an arm around his waist, Nicholas' arm pillowed under his head and he was out like a light.

Fuma woke up to Nicholas' warmth pressed against his front, his lips pressed against Fuma's pulse in an unintentional kiss. Fuma knew that if Nicholas were awake, then he'd be able to hear just how hard Fuma's heart was beating. How much his heartbeats sounded like the words that they exchanged last night.

Fuma moved his head back, trying his best not to wake Nicholas up. It wasn't an impossible task, considering that Nicholas was a deep sleeper. If he could sleep through Maki's ultra-loud vocal warm ups then he could sleep through just about anything.

He looked cute in his sleep. The lines of his face had loosened into something relaxed. Fuma always had the urge to take a picture when Nicholas was like this. There was something about seeing him so soft and unguarded that tickled Fuma's heart.

A phone buzzed, before a Michael Jackson song started filtering through the air. Fuma blindly reached behind him, somehow managing to single-handedly unplug the phone to bring it closer.

Five am glared back at Fuma from the phone's screen. If Fuma remembered correctly, Nicholas' call time was around six. This was probably one of many alarms that he'd set to wake up on time.

Fuma silenced Nicholas' phone, dropping it somewhere on the side table. Then Fuma got to work.

"Nicholas," Fuma's own voice was sleep laden, rough from disuse. "Hey, sleepyhead." He shook the younger's shoulder. Nicholas didn't budge. It took a couple more nudges and shakes for Nicholas to mutter something intelligible into Fuma's neck.

Fuma's hand brushed Nicholas' hair out of his face, "C'mon, Nico. You need to wake up." Instead, he pushed closer, hiding himself under Fuma's chin.

"Don't w'nna," Nicholas muttered against Fuma's neck. Fuma had to laugh. It was kind of cute. Even complete with Nicholas' cavernous morning voice.

"Are you sure you don't want to…" Fuma bit his lip a little, scheming. "Yixiang?"

Fuma was expecting some sort of reaction from Nicholas. Maybe a whine or a slap to the shoulder at using his given name.

What he certainly was not expecting was the brunt of his skull slamming directly into Fuma's chin at full force.

Pain bloomed against Fuma's jaw like a firecracker, blinding and quick.

Nicholas sounded panicked as he apologized, "O-Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" There were worried hands there, checking not only his jaw but cradling his face, "Open your mouth, did you accidentally bite something?" Fuma did not but he opened his mouth anyway.

The pain ebbed away, the squinting worried look on Nicholas' face enough to chase it away. It took another moment for Nicholas to stop inspecting.

Rubbing over Fuma's jaw and chin again, he spoke, "You can't just say things like that. And especially not in a sexy morning voice."

Fuma's lips quirked into a smile, "It worked, right?"

Nicholas frowned, "You're so…you could've bitten your tongue off." Fuma let himself be fussed over a little bit more before Nicholas finally lied back down, no longer worried.

"Okay, it's time for you to get up before our manager accidentally bursts into poor Euijoo and Harua's room," Fuma sat up, with difficulty because Nicholas clearly didn't want him to move. He hissed at the feeling of cold when Fuma peeled away.

The younger wrapped his arms around Fuma's waist. Tight. Fuma could feel the ripple of muscle when his hand squeezed at his shoulder. Nicholas was muscular in all the right places.

"Kiss?" Nicholas mumbled somewhere near Fuma's hip. His shirt was so thin that he could feel Nicholas' breath against his skin.

"Nico, I haven't brushed my teeth."

Nicholas moved his face away, his hand caressing the dip of Fuma's ribs, "I don't care. You're going to make me late."

Fuma hesitated, "Nicholas…"

He should've known that Nicholas would have a way to get what he want.

As soon as he opened his mouth, Fuma knew he'd already lost, "Please? Fuma-gege?"

The words struck dangerously in the pit of his stomach, a spark catching on kindling dry enough to catch into a blaze. Fuma took a deep breath, snuffing it out with his bare hand.

"You're evil," Fuma muttered, though he still leaned down. It was an uncomfortable position to hold, but Fuma could hardly feel it. Nicholas' lips stole the thoughts from him as he let Nicholas coax his tongue against Fuma's own.

The kiss parted with their sighs meeting in the air. Nicholas' eyes were still closed, savoring the moment like he didn't want to lose it.

When his eyes opened, his lip curved up, "I'm going to be thinking about that all day."

"Alright, now get up," Fuma said, pulling at Nicholas' arms. He stayed limp, making Fuma do all the work before finally sitting up. Fuma got him to stand, patting him on the hip before pushing him toward the bathroom. Nicholas glared at him a little; the kitty glare he had whenever he was mildly fake annoyed at someone.

Nicholas got ready in record time, though Fuma suspected it was because he wanted to be here, half on Fuma's lap pressing insistent kisses against his face and jaw. It was funny because Fuma knew Nicholas to be tactile, but this was an entirely new form of it being offered to only him.

Fuma pressed one last lingering kiss against Nicholas' lips, "Oh yeah. Euijoo-kun asked me to tell you something last night."

"What was it?" Nicholas said, clearly distracted because his lips press against Fuma's cheek instead.

"You owe him some ramen when we get back?"

Nicholas froze, pulling back to look at Fuma's face. His own face flushed red, eyes narrowing as he looked off to the side, "Stupid Juju."

Fuma's skin itched with the curiosity.

"What is it about?"

Nicholas stood up, brushing back Fuma's hair, "Don't worry about it."

Fuma sighed, "Nico…"

Nicholas leaned in, kissing his cheek, "Bye, I'll be off for my photoshoot now! Love you!"

Fuma sat there dazed. The sound of Nicholas' casual confession ping-ponged in his brain, even as he got dressed and went down to the hotel breakfast. The members all said their good mornings, but Fuma could only manage a simple greeting. Halfway through eating his yogurt bowl, he realized that Nicholas hadn't even told him the reason why he owed Euijoo the ramen. That brat.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

v. and the rest of our lives

The Taipei airport was busy and thick with heat when they walked in. Despite the air conditioning, Fuma could still feel the residual humidity that clung onto his skin from under his shirt.

That, and the fact that he had another equally as warm body pressed against him.

Nicholas was tucked into his side. The arm slung over his shoulder felt like a brand with how warm it was. A hat was pulled low over his eyes. The Wenoism hat, the very one that Fuma had worn into the country. The younger had stolen it from him despite probably owning one of his own. It made Fuma warm knowing that Nicholas was wearing something that was his.

"The fans are going to take pictures," Fuma said, his gaze not moving from his own phone. He was doing nothing useful. Actually, he hadn't scrolled in minutes, listening to the subtle sounds of Nicholas next to him instead.

Nicholas hummed, pocketing his phone, before leaning his head against Fuma's, "They've seen us do worse."

And then, like Nicholas couldn't contain himself he leaned in, voice low, "Are you going to push me away?"

Fuma tried and failed to suppress the shiver that hit him, "Do you need to ask?"

Because despite his complaints, he couldn't deny that he liked it. That Nicholas was clinging to him and not any of the other members.

Nicholas smiled against his ear and Fuma tried not to smile too wide in response. The cameras would catch it. They'd be in the 6 o'clock Luné news in no time.

Someone bumped Nicholas' shoulder, "You're being worse than usual." Yuma, grinning over to Fuma, "Spare Fuma-san. He looks like he's overheating."

Nicholas grip on his shoulder loosened, and Fuma almost wanted to reach up to hold it there.

"You're always so noisy," Nicholas said, before poking at Yuma with his free hand. The younger dodged his attempts.

"He's right. Usually you'd be this level of clingy to Taki, not—" Harua interrupted himself with a cough. "I'm not saying that it's weird, but it is rare." Harua's curiosity was barely concealed. Fuma knew it had probably been brewing since they had swapped rooms. "What's the special occasion?"

Nicholas hummed, chin hooking over Fuma's shoulder, "Well, we slept together last night. This much is okay, right?"

The flush overtook Fuma's face like a flood, overflowing past his cheeks to his ears and spilling down his chest like a thick blanket of heat.

The first person to audibly choke was Taki, "You what—!"

And then came everyone else, and Fuma looked up at the sky to give him patience.

"What? Why?" Nicholas said, none the wiser. "I just said we sl—"

Fuma lifted a hand, covering the younger's mouth in a swift move. He took a breath, though that didn't stop his voice from cracking through the sentences, "Nothing happened. He meant we slept in the same bed. Yesterday Nico was a bit sad about leaving."

"Oh, that's why your eyes were so puffy at our shoot," Maki said casually before all hell re-broke loose.

Kei immediately clung onto Nicholas' shoulders, "Oh my little Nico-chan—!"

Nicholas took a page out of Harua's book and running around to try and avoid the eldest's grip. It didn't work. It was foolish to try and outrun the marathon runner.

It was Euijoo who nudged Fuma's shoulder, looking vaguely smug, "So. I'm guessing whatever conversation you had went well?" Fuma's eyes went back to Nicholas, who was now caught between an overly curious Taki and a clinging Kei. There was an exaggerated frown on the younger's face that Fuma was ninety-nine-percent sure was fake.

"Yeah. It went…really well," Fuma said, hoping that his voice sounded as steady as he wanted it to be. "You're right, he's…understanding. And he accepted my feelings."

Someone made a small noise, and Fuma turned to see Jo there, "Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Fuma shook his head, "It's okay. We weren't going to keep it a secret. Actually, we were going to tell you all at practice later."

"Oh," Jo smiled a little. "That's good. Um, I mean. You look happy, Fuma-kun."

"Do I?" Fuma asked, and Jo nodded, ears reddening. Fuma pressed a hand to his own face, only to find that he was smiling.

"I'm happy for you both," Euijoo said lightly.

Happy for you both. This time when Fuma looked up toward Nicholas, he was already looking back. He didn't seem perturbed about getting caught staring. Instead he grinned a little bit. Fuma's heart felt like it was going to burst.

They came together like magnets when it came time to line up for the plane, and it was easy to make sure they ended up sitting next to each other once again. Nicholas took the hat off, and Fuma watched him mess with his own hair. Fuma lifted his phone, front camera open as he lined up the shot.

"Wanna take a selfie?"

"Of course I do," Nicholas said, before striking his usual pout and rock hand sign. Fuma clicked the shutter a few times, about to lower the phone when Nicholas shifted closer. He looked around a little, before leaning in and quickly kissing Fuma on the cheek.

Fuma very nearly dropped his phone. Nicholas giggled at his reaction, clearly satisfied.

Fuma huffed, "Be careful, Nichol."

"I am," Nicholas said, though his fingers wiggled onto Fuma's knee anyway. Fuma placed his palm nearby, watching as Nicholas' hand settled over it. Their fingers locked together just as the last few checks were happening. Fuma tapped the back of Nicholas' hand absently, one-two-three for the one-two-three words that he couldn't say out loud right now.

"Fuma-kun," Nicholas tilted his head. "What are you doing?"

"Hmm?" Fuma stopped his actions. "Tapping."

"No, you keep tapping me in threes," Nicholas imitated him, and Fuma's breath caught in his throat. "Why threes?"

Fuma could lie. Could make up something about the number three or deny that he knew what Nicholas was talking about. But…

"It's stupid," Fuma started before sighing. "I just…want to say it. But we can't right now."

I love you. Wǒ ài nǐ. Guá ài lí. Aishiteru.

Nicholas brightened instantaneously, "Really? So I was right!"

"You knew?" Fuma almost wanted to pull back his hand but Nicholas held tight. Embarrassment lit him up like a neon sign and Fuma wanted to hide away.

"Not really. I was just…guessing," Nicholas at least looked a bit sheepish. "Then can I tap you back four times when you tap me three times."

"Four?"

"Yeah," Nicholas' voice dropped lower. "Aishiteru, right?"

Fuma was never going to get used to it. It was going to kill him.

He swallowed and nodded, immediately tapping the back of Nicholas' palm three times. Nicholas tapped back four, unable to hide his smile.

Their hands stayed entwined all throughout take off, and they only broke apart at the sound of the plane cart and stewards walking up to them. Still, Nicholas' hand drifted to his knee every once in a while, tapping out that simple rhythm.

The rhythm followed them in the practice room, right before they started. They had gotten there earlier at Fuma's request, so there were no choreographers or teachers there yet.

Nicholas stood beside him, hand nervous against Fuma's wrist, "We have something to tell you."

The practice room quieted for a moment before Nicholas brought their entwined hands up, "We're seeing each other. Me and Fuma."

"Since when?" Yuma looked a bit dumbfounded at the revelation and Fuma held back a laugh. Yuma always prided himself in knowing, after all.

"Since yesterday," Harua said matter-of-factly. "Did you forget they slept in the same bed?"

Maki made an enlightened noise, "Oh, is that why Nico kept touching his lips throughout our photoshoot? He was imagining—"

There was a screech as Nicholas launched himself at Maki and laughter broke out throughout the room. Fuma felt the weight on his chest lift and turn into nothingness. There was absolutely nothing to worry about at all.

Kei bumped his shoulder, "I told you it would work out."

Euijoo flanked his other side, "Out of curiosity, who confessed first?"

"Thank you guys for believing in me. In us," Fuma smiled, before adding. "And it was Nicholas who confessed first."

Euijoo groaned and Kei let out a loud whoop, "I told you! I knew it!"

The realization dawned on Fuma very quickly, "You guys made a bet on who would confess first?"

"They did what?" Nicholas' voice. He was sat on top of Maki's back with Taki filming but he must've heard it loud and clear.

"For your information, Euijoo bet against you," Kei said with a laugh. "He had too much faith in Fuma."

"Byun Euijoo, I'm killing you next," Nicholas warned.

Harua sighed from somewhere nearby, "How are we going to tell Lune that we've lost our maknae and leader to Nicholas' wrath?"

Jo chuckled at that, "It'll be hard to explain."

Taki bounded up to him, all excited, "Do you want me to send you the video of Nico beating up Maki later?"

Fuma considered for a moment, before looking over to where Yuma had now entered the ring, also sitting on top of Maki. Now Harua was playing camera man for the whole situation. So very silly and sweet.

"Yeah. For the memories."

Practice started too soon, but the light mood followed them. Nicholas had a pep in his step even as he danced and when they brushed against each other in choreography Fuma couldn't contain his smile.

During break, Nicholas sat next to him to monitor. Their legs bumped. Nicholas' shoe tapped his. Four even taps. Fuma's pinky reached over to Nicholas' knee. Three taps.

It was their own language. Free from misunderstanding and the influence of others. Something only they knew and something only they could understand. Something that connected him unilaterally to Nicholas, and Nicholas to him.

That was why when Fuma found himself in Nicholas' bed for the second night in a row despite living in different dorms, he made sure to make the time count.

"Fuma," Nicholas' voice was breathy, head pushed back against the pillow as Fuma's lips traveled up his jaw and to his neck. Fuma learned quickly that Nicholas was sensitive there, especially at his pulse point. "Would you... I want to go back to Taiwan one day. Just us two." 

Fuma paused, lifting his head to meet Nicholas' shy gaze. It felt like another confession all on its own.

He could picture it, crystal clear in his mind's eye. Nicholas taking him to night markets, talking too fast for Fuma to follow. His Mandarin lighting the way through the streets, hand in Fuma's own. And maybe, further in the future, Fuma would properly speak to Nicholas' parents in their mother tongue, free from any barriers of language. To ask them important questions too soon for him to be thinking now. 

"I can't wait," Fuma answered, and Nicholas slung his arms around Fuma's shoulders, pulling him down into another sugary kiss.

Fuma made a mental note to request Mandarin lessons from the company. It wouldn't hurt to start early.

It had taken Nicholas years to stand on common ground with Fuma in Japanese. Now it was Fuma's turn to try and catch up to him in Mandarin.

Their future and the visit to Taiwan would be the perfect excuse.