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Euijoo would bet good money on the statement that there’s nobody at Seoul Dae who doesn’t know who Wang Nicholas is. He’s quite aware that it sounds like a cliche, some kind of half-baked thing, but he steadfastly holds that it’s a fact. Even Euijoo’s roommate, sweet Asakusa Jo with his head in the clouds and his face pointed up at the sun, knows who Wang Nicholas is. He’s pretty sure that even the headmaster of the entire university knows of the boy. 

It is hard to miss him, is the thing. He’s tall and gorgeously proportioned, with long legs and a pale skin. Even on the days he doesn’t have classes, he dresses well, in outfits that not only show off his narrow waist, but also make it clear that he has money. He would be a chaebol heir if he was Korean, but he’s from Taiwan, and he lives in a massive apartment right off campus. Everything about him screams that he comes from a life of luxury. He’s probably never even wiped his own arse before. And you can’t even hate him for it, because he’s just so damn charming that even adults give him the time of day if he just does his little half-smirk and raises his eyebrows. 

Sure, Euijoo could probably give you a lot of reasons why Nicholas is smoking hot. They’re just facts. It has nothing to do with the fact that Nicholas features quite . . . prominently when Euijoo wraps his hand around himself underneath the shower. Absolutely nothing. 

Quietly existing on the opposite end of the spectrum, Euijoo is decidedly not cool. He would even go as far as to say that he is the opposite of cool, and he’s totally okay with that fact. He studies Advanced Maths and likes it, he wears glasses ‘cause he can’t see shit otherwise, and he works a job at the IT helpdesk in one of the less-visited libraries at the back of campus because it pays relatively well and it always looks good on your resume to have your university as your employer. 

The IT helpdesk is fine. The IT helpdesk is cool. Nothing ever happens at the IT helpdesk, if you don’t count the guy that came up to the counter high off his arse and tried to sell Euijoo a genuine Apple laptop. It was an actual apple, wilted stem and all. But yes, nothing ever happens. 

Until today. 

“Yo,” says a bored voice, in English, and Euijoo drags his eyes away from the screen of his laptop in front of him where he’s fighting with a file full of corrupted documents to look up at who had called out to him. His heart stutters in his throat. Wang Nicholas is half leaning against, half standing next to the counter, staring down at Euijoo with those dark, slanted eyes of his, his gaze unreadable. 

“Um,” squeaks Euijoo, nervously. “Can I help you with anything?” This is the university’s IT desk, after all. Though Nicholas might more be the type to replace his laptop if it crashes, rather than dragging it all the way out to this side of the campus. 

Nicholas looks like he wants to be anywhere else right now. “Did you already take your break?” 

“Me?” says Euijoo, like there is anyone else present at the moment. 

“Yes, you.” It sounds like Nicholas is forcing the words out between his gritted teeth, his eyebrows pushed together above his eyes. “Did you already take your break or not?” 

With trembling hands, Euijoo closes his laptop screen and stands up, making sure to flip the sign at the front from open :) to closed. “Um, I have time now,” he says, stumbling over his words for the second time in the span of four minutes. He twists his wrist so that his watch is pointing up, his glasses sagging down the bridge of his nose when he looks down. “I can reasonably be away from my desk for the next twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” says Nicholas, clearly not one to waste time, already turning away. “Let’s go, then.” 

Euijoo manages to not trip over his feet when he walks behind Nicholas through the library’s doors and onto the sidewalk, which he counts as a personal win. Outside, the sunlight is strong but the heat it gives off is still feeble, March still grasping onto the winter cold with a surprising ferocity. Euijoo regrets not taking his coat with him in his haste to follow the other boy, but Nicholas is already steering him towards the cafe next to the library’s entrance, a blast of hot air welcoming them inside together with the off-key jangle of the chimes hung above the door. Euijoo does not have it in him to tell the other boy that the coffee there is dreadful. At least the state of the coffee means that the cafe is completely devoid of any other customers. 

Nicholas books it for the counter, lazily ordering them two iced americanos and handing over his card before the barista can even prattle off the total. Euijoo tries not to feel like a decoration and kind of fails. 

“So,” says Euijoo, once Nicholas has herded him over to one of the tables in the back of the room, the round buzzer lying between them on the table acting almost like a barrier. “What can I do for you?” 

“I,” says Nicholas, without any fanfare and with surprising gravity, “need you to date me.”  

As soon as those words register, Euijoo dramatically chokes on his own spit and spends about a minute hacking up his lungs while Nicholas watches him with barely disguised annoyance. “Excuse me?” wheezes Euijoo, clamping onto the tabletop like it is the only thing that’s keeping him upright. “I think I misheard you just now.” 

“No, I think you heard me correctly,” says Nicholas, with a heavy sigh. “Two of my friends are hosting a big summer party at the end of the semester to celebrate that we aren't juniors anymore. They jokingly said that they didn’t need to give me a plus one, since I never have anyone to go with. And I said that I did, because I’m tired of them always looking down at me for being alone. Now, I need someone to fulfill that role.” 

“You—” says Euijoo, and then just gapes at Nicholas, surprised at the fact that the other is so freely just sharing this information with him. 

“I may have let it slip that I have a boyfriend,” Nicholas concludes, almost deadpan, staring at Euijoo across the table with something amused flickering in his dark eyes. “But I don't. So I need one.” Like it’s as easy as that.

“And why are you asking me ?” says Euijoo, his voice pitching up and skipping straight past endearing and into annoying territory. He clears his throat and continues, fighting to keep his tone even. “Don’t you have a host of friends that you could ask? Other people?” People cooler than me, he adds silently.

Nicholas rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards into—and Euijoo hates to say it, because it sounds like a fucking cliche, and he is so not that kind of boy—but it’s a smirk. Wang Nicholas is smirking at Byun Euijoo. “All of my friends know each other,” he says, slowly, leaning forward. “And their friends know each other too, ad infinitum. So I need someone outside of that group, since they’d all know immediately that I was lying if I showed up with someone they knew. You get me?” He says it like this isn’t a terrible idea. 

“You need me because I’m boring,” Euijoo summarises. “And because nobody knows me.” 

“Something like that,” says Nicholas, and he looks way too casual for someone who’s asking another boy to fake date him. 

Euijoo swallows, raising his chin slightly. “So, what’s in it for me?” 

Amusedly, Nicholas sags back in his chair again, the picture of ease despite the fact that Euijoo feels like he’s going to sweat straight through his cardigan. “Name your prize, darling,” he says, the pet name rolling from his tongue like it means nothing to him. It probably doesn’t. Euijoo is going to implode when he gets home, little pieces of him all splattered across the walls. Poor Jo is going to be so sad when he has to clean up afterwards. 

The buzzer goes off in between them. Nicholas decides to be a gentleman and pick up the order himself, the glasses sliding around on the tray wildly. He’s probably not carried a lot of trays in his life like this, Euijoo reflects, thinking back to when he used to work in a coffee shop during his freshman year. It was a shitshow. 

“Five hundred thousand won per week,” says Euijoo as soon as Nicholas sits down again, absolutely bricking himself, hoping that the other boy doesn’t see through his bluff. “And you’re paying for all our dates.” 

Nicholas just raises one eyebrow, taking a sip from his coffee and immediately wincing. Yep, Euijoo could’ve told him. Five hundred thousand is probably pocket change to the Taiwanese man. Fuck, is Euijoo lowballing himself on accident? “I’ll even pay for the clothes you’ll wear on those dates,” Nicholas says, slowly. He smiles, something that straddles the line between faux casualness and genuinity. “You have yourself a deal, Byun Euijoo-ssi.” 

With a frown on his face, Euijoo looks down at himself. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” 

“Come on, now, Euijoo-ssi,” says Nicholas, pursing his lips, and he doesn’t continue the sentence, but lets it hang in the air between them. 

“Euijoo-yah,” Euijoo corrects him, absentmindedly. “We’re the same age, so it feels weird if you call me so . . . distantly.” As he casts his eyes up when Nicholas stays silent for a beat too long and meets the other’s amused gaze, he immediately flushes. Oops, well done, idiot. Now the boy officially knows that Euijoo already knew him before and even knows some details about his private life. 

“Your clothes are perfectly fine for you to wear in private,” Nicholas allows, begrudgingly. “Where nobody can see you. But I can’t be seen with you in public wearing that. My friends would immediately know something is up.” 

Euijoo huffs. “Are your friends detectives, or something? You’re very paranoid about them.” 

“It has to be watertight,” says Nicholas. He gestures at Euijoo and then at himself. “This thing between the two of us. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, and I didn’t really announce to anyone that I was seeing someone in the first place, so we both gotta play the part well, okay? They’re going to be suspicious.” 

“Fine!” says Euijoo. Then he droops, shoulders slumping. “But I’m not the best actor.” 

Nicholas looks him up and down. “We can work on that,” he says, a bit reluctantly. “Ideally, we won’t have to hang out with my friends that often, but we’ll have to see them every now and then. To keep up appearances before the party at the end of the year.” 

“We can settle on the story later,” Euijoo says. He looks down at his watch and realises that he’s already overstayed his welcome by far. At least his boss is chill and generally doesn’t even come to his desk, trusting him to just be there. “I have to head back to the IT desk now. And, y’know, actually do my job.”

“Fine,” says Nicholas, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “But I’m just warning you that if you tell anyone about this, I have a lot of contacts that could make your life very difficult. Just so you know.” 

Euijoo lets out a long breath. “I am already letting you know that I will be telling my roommate.”

“What?” says Nicholas, sharply.

“It’s either Jo or absolutely everybody!” Euijoo throws up his hands. “It’s not every day that I’m being recruited—” He realises that he is kind of shouting and lowers his voice. “Recruited into being someone’s fake boyfriend, okay? Believe it or not, this is kind of a big deal for me. And Jo won’t talk.” He snorts. “Believe me, he won’t talk.”  

For a long time, Nicholas just stares at him. Then he sighs, like it personally pains him, and dips his head forward to signal his approval. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Euijoo reaches across the table to shake Nicholas’ hand. “You have yourself a deal.”

--

As soon as Euijoo gets home after his shift, he barges into Jo’s room and throws himself down on his housemate’s bed, face down and everything. He lets out the longest groan that peters up into a yell halfway through. “I’m so fucked, Jo,” he says, voice muffled into Jo’s comfortable comforter. “You don’t even know how fucked I am.”

Jo just silently reaches over and pats him on the calf. 

--

Euijoo learns two new things about Nicholas very quickly into their little stint as fake boyfriends. One: he’s very bossy, and he prefers things to be done exactly how and when he wants them. It’s probably due to his privileged upbringing, a life where everything is handed to him at his whims, and Euijoo will begrudgingly admit that this is definitely a case of nurture versus nature and that Nicholas isn’t completely at fault for being the way he is.

And two: Nicholas seems to be on a mission to personally draw the blood out from underneath Euijoo’s nails. 

Right now, he sits opposite Euijoo in a cafe that serves actually decent coffee—Nicholas’ words—with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his gaze disapproving. How sad that such a sour expression doesn’t make him any less handsome. “Again,” he says, waving his hand at Euijoo. “Let’s run through it again.” 

“Can we take a break?” Euijoo groans. He sighs, stirring the fringe in front of his eyes. When the other remains unmoved, he tips his head back. “Your name is Wang Yixiang but you go by Nicholas, you were born on the ninth of July two thousand two, you are studying Business and Fashion Design, and you would rather die than be seen in clothes that don’t match.” He slumps back in his chair, allowing a small grin to bloom on his face. “It feels like I’m about to meet your parents.”

“Well, Fuma-hyung and Yūdai -hyung are kind of the most married couple you’ll ever meet on this side of the East Sea. And maybe on the other side as well, to be honest.” 

Euijoo hums, strangely endeared. It’s clear that Nicholas does really love his friends. “Listen, all of these nitpicky details are just secondary, okay? And we can play it by ear. It’s much more important to sell the story of our love.” 

Nicholas coughs, and Euijoo swears that he can see a hint of a red flush on the apples of his cheeks, but it’s gone before he can blink. “What,” he says, deadpan.

“The thing we’re trying to sell,” says Euijoo, gesturing between the two of them, “is that we’re boyfriends, right? As far as I know, even in the year of our lord two-thousand twenty-five, boyfriends are supposed to be in love. Or close to it, at least. You want to do this right? You want your friends to buy into it? Then it’s not as important as that I know every single detail about your life, and more about selling the mirage that you actually like me.” 

For a long time, Nicholas just looks at him. “Have you thought about this?” he finally asks, his voice pitching up weirdly. Like Euijoo’s a puzzle and he’s trying to figure him out. Good luck with that, buddy. 

Euijoo shrugs, but his nonchalance is shot but the fact that he immediately turns as red as a beet. “Perhaps.” 

Nicholas just shakes his head. “Whatever. So, what do you propose we do?”

“What we should do is make up a fake scenario about how we met,” says Euijoo. “And I guess we should keep it as close to the truth as possible. Let’s say you came up to the IT desk in the library and asked me to fix your laptop for you. Because you had a bug.”  

“Fix . . . my laptop?” Nicholas looks at him blankly, his eyebrows furrowed. “The IT desk?” 

Groaning, Euijoo pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Just humour me, Nicholas. You decided you care about the environment enough not to replace your brand new laptop with an even newer variant just because there was a bug. And you saw me at the desk and fell in love with me on the spot, so you decided to ask me out. We went on a few dates and decided to make it official. The end.” 

“Wait!” says Nicholas. “Why would I have been the one who asked you out?” 

“Because I hold a lot of power over your head by agreeing to this at all?” Euijoo says, raising his eyebrows. “And because I am a nobody, so nobody would believe you even gave me the time of day in the first place if you weren’t the one who made the first move.”

Nicholas’ eyebrows draw together above his eyes. Now that he’s more relaxed, a bit more comfortable, he’s got a very expressive face, Euijoo has noticed. It’s not really something obvious, and definitely something you have to watch out for, but his brown eyes betray him a lot. Finally, after a minute of thinking, Nicholas lowers his head. “Fine,” he says, begrudgingly. “We can say that I asked you out, if someone asks about it.” Euijoo doesn’t doubt that he’s going to force his friends not to ask about it, but that’s up to him. 

“If your friends ask,” says Euijoo, unfolding his fingers from a clenched fist as he speaks. “I study Advanced Maths. I don’t play any sports right now but I used to play on the national fencing team. My housemate tells me I look like Ponyo. And my hobbies are watching movies and assembling Legos. That’s about it.”

“Ponyo?” Nicholas looks quietly amused. “I can kind of see it.”

Shrugging, Euijoo pushes his glasses up his nose again. “It could be worse, as far as impressions go. I used to be chubbier in my cheeks, but my housemate has been forcing me to go to the gym with him, so that took care of that.”

“Your friend and housemate Jo,” says Nicholas, thoughtfully. 

Euijoo flushes, looking down at where he’s playing with the straw of his coffee. “I don’t mind having a small group of people around me. Most of my time is spent studying or working anyway. Believe me, this is way better than getting bullied or laughed at.”

“Their loss,” Nicholas murmurs, his voice even. “My friends will probably like you, anyway. They’re . . .” He screws up his face. “ Too friendly, one might even say. And very loud.”

“I’m sure I can adapt.” Euijoo gives the other his best winning smile. He’s sure he imagines the way Nicholas’ eyes drop down to his lips very briefly, before lazily settling on his own again. He carries on like nothing has happened. “Grandmas and aunties love me. I’m sure I can channel that energy to charm your friends too.” 

Nicholas' face flashes through a handful of expressions before he settles onto something close to flat boredom. “Like I said, that won’t be a problem.” He looks down at his wrist, where a delicate watch is clasped that probably costs more than Euijoo’s entire existence. “I have to run for class now. But don’t forget this entire thing is only on until the party in summer. After that, I’ll tell my friends that we broke up.” So don’t get too attached, is what he tells Euijoo, without saying those words explicitly. 

“Don’t worry,” says Euijoo, smiling. “I could never forget.”

--

Sometimes, when his homework dazzles him and Euijoo even sees floating numbers and graphs when he closes his eyes, he wanders into the living room and lies upside down on their couch, his head dangling off the edge of the seat and his knees tucked over the backrest, his feet dangling. It’s what Euijoo calls his thinking pose. Many breakthroughs were made in this exact position. It probably has something to do with the fact that all of his blood rushes down to his head when he does this. Or that he just gets so lightheaded that all of his problems don’t matter anymore. 

That is how Jo finds him a few minutes later, wholly unsurprised to come face to face with Euijoo in that specific pose. 

“I’m not cool enough!” whines Euijoo as soon as he sees his friend, looking up at Jo, uncaring of the fact that the other is looking at him quizzically even while upside down. He kicks out his legs. “I’m not cool enough for Wang Nicholas.”

“Okay,” says Jo, simply. Good old Jo. 

“Jo-senpai!” Euijoo pouts. “You have to help me! I can’t have Nicholas think I’m boring.” 

Unmoved, Jo raises one eyebrow. “Ew,” he says, delicately. Then he looks down at himself, and Euijoo can almost guess what he’s going to say. Jo is wearing a paint-splattered white hoodie, the tips of his fingers stained black from the charcoal he was undoubtedly just using to draw his portraits or his still lifes. And yet he still looks like he stepped straight out of a manhwa or a billboard advertisement, his dark hair curling softly across his forehead and his face the size of a grape. It would be a really pretty shine muscat too. 

“Why do you care about what Nicholas-ssi is going to say?” is what Jo asks, in the end. He manages to sound non-confrontational, and other people might have said that he looks disinterested, but Euijoo knows him well enough that that is not the case. “Did you finally ask him out?”

Groaning, Euijoo covers his face with his arm. “You have to promise to not tell anyone. ” He continues when Jo nods. “But remember when I came home stressed from work a few days ago? Nicholas found me at work then, and he proposed this ludicrous deal where he wants me to fake-date him because he accidentally told his friends he has a boyfriend, even though he doesn’t. And now all his friends are going to hate me because I’m not cool enough!”

For a beat, it is silent, Jo ruminating over those words. “How about a haircut?” he says, in the end.

“A haircut?” asks Euijoo, quizzically. He thinks about it for a moment, slightly lightheaded, then shrugs, his shoulders scraping against the couch behind him. “Okay.” 

Jo smiles. “Good. I know a guy. He also does Ricky’s haircuts. He’ll give me a good deal.” 

“Ricky?” Euijoo screeches. “Ricky Shen? You know Ricky Shen? You think I can afford to get a haircut in the same place Ricky Shen gets his hair cut and dyed? The hairdresser probably uses solid gold to do it.”

“We’re the same age,” Jo says, like that means anything. “And I just told you I could get you a deal.” 

Euijoo just stares at him, and then untucks his legs so that he can throw his body to the side, awkwardly sagging against the rug. When he sits up, he sways for a moment, wholly lightheaded. Oh well. “You’re so strange,” he marvels at Jo, his eyes wide. “I’m so glad we’re housemates.”

Jo snorts and brushes into the hallway to head to his room without another word, but Euijoo knows that means, me too.  

--

“You’ve changed your hair,” is the first thing out of Nicholas’ mouth when he sees Euijoo next, reaching up to tug on the strands of Euijoo’s hair. 

Flushing, Euijoo ducks away from him, even though he has the height and elegance of a tree. Jo had made true on his promise and had dragged Euijoo along to the hair salon. The hairdresser, Sungho, had meticulously washed Euijoo’s hair and cut it, a fringe he could easily part, fluffy layers at the top and longer at the back, so that it curls just at the back of his neck. They’d also settled on dyeing it a reddish-brown colour, which smoothed out the texture of his skin and apparently fits the tone of his skin colour. Euijoo almost hadn’t recognised himself afterwards. It was like a much prettier stranger had been staring back at him. 

When Euijoo had tried to pay, Sungho had just waved him away with a secretive little grin on his face. A friend of Jo’s is a friend of mine, he’d said. Euijoo had not dared to ask what that meant. He’s not certain if he wants to find out whether Jo is in the mafia or not.

“Yeah,” says Euijoo, aiming for something airy and probably completely missing the mark. Oh well. “You said we had to fool your friends. I have it on good authority that this haircut makes me look cooler. Isn’t that what you’re looking for, in a boyfriend? Or at least, what your friends would think you’re looking for?”

Nicholas narrows his eyes. “Did you go to Sungho to get it done?” He does not answer Euijoo’s question.

“Does everyone just know this guy, or what?” asks Euijoo, throwing up his hands in faux-exasperation. He looks at Nicholas with a pout when the other just stares back at him quizzically. “You already know I’m not cool enough to know about things like that.”

“I know Ricky,” says Nicholas, shrugging. 

Now that is something Euijoo can believe. He doesn’t spare the other boy another look, marching into the shopping street so that he doesn’t have to face Nicholas and embarrass himself further. 

They’re here to get clothes, on Nicholas’ request. He’s a fashion student and self-proclaimed shopping genius, and he’s here to completely overhaul Euijoo’s wardrobe. Or the things he has to wear to their ‘dates’, at the very least. Euijoo is not looking forward to being used as a glorified mannequin, but it will at least mean that he gets Nicholas’ undivided attention on him for the next few hours. He doesn’t know yet how he is going to survive it. 

Very quickly, Euijoo realises that he has no idea where he’s going, so he droops back and allows Nicholas to take point again. The other doesn’t even pretend he isn’t smirking at Euijoo, amused, but is wise enough not to comment on it.

Nicholas’ style is eclectic, Euijoo quickly realises. He prefers to wear daring outfits himself—tight tops that show off his midriff or with the sleeves cut off to show his slightly toned arms. His trousers are often slightly baggy, with a belt around the waist that doesn’t do much at holding them up but acts more like an accessory. He prefers silver jewelry over gold, thick chains around his necks and delicate rings through his lobes. Euijoo feels like a wreck just standing next to him. Luckily, Nicholas does seem to realise that whatever he wears doesn't really work for Euijoo, so even though Euijoo doesn’t recognise any of the stores Nicholas drags him to, at least the clothes are slightly aligned with what he would choose for himself, if he would have the money for it.

Just like before, Nicholas proves that he is not one for dawdling. He directs Euijoo into a changing room, tugs the curtains closed, and tells him to wait. Euijoo does not have it in him to protest, probably wouldn’t even know what to look for out there, so he just sits on the comfortable bench and fiddles with his fingers. 

It doesn’t take that long for Nicholas to return, luckily. He hands Euijoo stacks of clothes, waits while Euijoo tries them on, and then asks him to step out so that he can see it. Euijoo tries not to blush while he does, twisting around in front of Nicholas who just watches him, humming when he approves and clicking his tongue when he doesn’t. It seems that he’s got quite a good sense of Euijoo’s fashion taste even in the handful of interactions they’ve had so far, because everything he puts on, he probably would have picked for himself. It’s his own style, just—elevated.

“Okay, the last one,” says Nicholas, after what feels like hours of torture, holding out a bundle of fabric into the changing room. With shaking hands, Euijoo takes it from him, tugging the old shirt over his head and exchanging it with what Nicholas handed him. Then he inhales loudly, eyes blowing wide. 

“Euijoo?” he hears Nicholas ask through the drapes that separate them, but Euijoo barely registers it, too busy with looking at himself in the mirror. 

The top is . . . Well, it’s short, is the thing. It sits just above the waistband of the trousers Nicholas also forced him into, meaning that a thin strip of skin is visible at all times. Not only that, but every time he moves even just the slightest bit, more of his body is revealed, almost up to his belly button. 

Euijoo hadn’t been lying to Nicholas. He used to be chubbier than this.  On an average day, Euijoo hides his body underneath his cardigans and hoodies, happy to just not pay too much attention to it. But his conscious efforts to eat a better diet over the last year-and-a-half, combined with the sessions at the gym that Jo drags him to, means that he has definitely lost some weight. He is reminded of it now, staring at his thin waist and the flat panes of his stomach. 

And then he flushes. He definitely can’t show up like this. 

Nicholas calls out again, sounding impatient. “Euijoo? Did you die?”

Mouth as dry as the desert, Euijoo starts struggling with his top, awkwardly tangling himself in the fabric in his haste. “I’m okay!” he says, his voice pitching loudly. “I just don’t think this top is for me.”

The rusting of fabric as Nicholas moves outside. “Show it to me first,” he demands. “We can decide on it together.”

“Ha ha, no ,” says Euijoo, his heart skipping a beat. He starts trying to strip faster. “Um, about that—”

An unamused huff, and then the curtains part. Nicholas presses into the changing room with a seemingly single-minded intent. 

With a squeak, Euijoo stumbles backwards, back crashing against the cold mirror, though he barely feels the impact. His chest is heaving and Nicholas is staring at him, eyes almost eclipsed, and his lips are pink and very shiny when he looks at Euijoo, at Euijoo’s exposed stomach. There isn’t that much space in the changing room, so Euijoo can hear how Nicholas’ breath rattles in his chest, see the way his fingers clench into fists at his sides. The tension in the room is electric, and Euijoo can’t help the way he tilts his head backwards, exposing the long line of his throat. Nicholas’ eyes narrow. 

“You don’t have to wear anything you’re not comfortable with,” Nicholas says at last, the words forced through gritted teeth, and he almost reluctantly tears his gaze away from Euijoo again. It almost feels colder without him looking at Euijoo. 

“Um, okay,” says Euijoo, meekly. He thought he would have minded that more. 

Sighing gently, Nicholas leans down so that he can reach past Euijoo and grab the pile of clothes there. “I’ll go and pay for this already. See you at the register, okay?”

Euijoo hums in response. 

After that, Nicholas pretends like nothing happened, like nothing is amiss. He drags Euijoo to three more clothes stores and a shoe store. Each and every time, he refuses Euijoo seeing the total he spends when Euijoo asks, just hands over his black card to the shop clerk with a roll of his eyes. “Part of the agreement, right?” he says, almost mockingly. Euijoo wants to punch him. In the mouth. With his own mouth. 

Whatever. 

At the end of the shopping trip, Euijoo is weighed down with multiple bags around his wrists, and Nicholas walks around with a smug air of contentment. They part in front of the subway station, where Euijoo will take the train and Nicholas will probably call his private driver, or something like that. Euijoo does not doubt that Nicholas does not take the subway with the common folk. 

Jo only raises his eyebrows at Euijoo when he stumbles through the door, messily kicking off his shoes, the shopping bags wheeling comically. “Shopping,” Euijoo defends himself (and Nicholas), sheepishly. 

“With your sugar daddy?” Jo asks, amused. 

Euijoo groans and throws his eyes to the heavens, shuffling towards his room. “Please don’t call him that! We’re the same age.” But when he looks at himself in the mirror hung above his desk, he notices that his cheeks are blazing a bright red. 

--

April brings the hot weather, and Euijoo is nothing if not a flower that needs adequate sunlight after having been deprived of it for so long. So, he walks down to the quad and the assortment of picnic tables there, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his headphones covering his ears. It’s already warm enough that he doesn’t really need a jacket, but he dresses up in a white hoodie with embroidered blue clouds, the legs of his pants rolled up to show off the white socks inside of his blue sneakers. Just to get used to the outfits he’ll have to wear when he’s with Nicholas. He thought he looked pretty okay when he left the house. Pretty . . . cute?

He sits down at one of the tables, spreading his books around him as he bops his head along to the music blasting in his ears. He has some homework for his Linear Algebra class, so he flips through his notes and starts working on the equations, quickly losing himself in the process. 

With his head stuck in his books like that, he doesn’t notice that someone’s sat down at the table on the other side of him until a dainty hand waves in his face. He looks up, questioningly, and finds himself face to face with two pretty girls with faces the size of beans, long hair spilling down their shoulders and back. One of them is sending Euijoo a winning smile, her cheeks scrunching up in a measured way to show off the aegyo sal beneath her eyes. 

“Are you new on campus?” she asks, looking Euijoo up and down. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

Blinking, Euijoo looks at her. “I’m a junior.”

She pouts, tossing her hair across her shoulder and nudging her friend in the side. “How come I haven’t seen you around then? I thought I knew all of the cute guys around campus. But we can fix that.” 

Euijoo points over his shoulder with his thumb. “I live on that side of campus. Maybe you haven’t gone there yet . . .?” 

“Oh, he’s cute ,” the other girl laughs, her voice high-pitched. 

The first girl nods, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “Why don’t you give us your number? We can figure out a place to meet up.” 

“I don’t know,” Euijoo says. “I don’t just give my number to people I don’t know.” Except for Nicholas, the treacherous voice in the back of his mind reminds him. Euijoo squashes it down like a bug.

“Can’t you just give us your Instagram account?” the first girl wheedles. She’s blinking her eyes very fast. Euijoo wonders if she’s got something stuck in them. “We can get to know each other better there.”

“Um—” says Euijoo, but he’s literally saved by the bell by a shadow falling across the table, radiating displeased energy. Euijoo doesn’t need to be an empath to tell that. 

“Scram,” says Nicholas, and it’s just one clipped word, but it sends the two girls immediately packing up and scurrying away with their tails between their legs and wide-eyed looks over their shoulders. With a sigh, Nicholas lowers him down onto the bench opposite of Euijoo, resting his head on his hands and looking at Euijoo through narrowed eyes. “You shouldn’t let them flirt with you, Euijoo-yah. You know you’re a taken man now, right? I can’t have people talk.” 

Euijoo stares at him blankly, his glasses slipping down his nose. “Flirting?” 

Nicholas scrunches up his nose and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Next time a girl comes up to you to talk to you, just tell her that you have a boyfriend and you’re not interested.” 

“ Any girl?” Euijoo asks, confused. “I work at the IT desk.” Like Nicholas has forgotten. 

“No, just any girl that’s flirting with you,” Nicholas says, throwing up his hands. When Euijoo stays silent, confused, he seems to relax a little bit, the corners of his eyes softening. “Use your best judgement, Euijoo-yah, I’m sure you have it. Clearly, girls are paying attention to you now, and I know that’s flattering, but you have to tell them off, okay?”  

Heart beating so loudly in his chest that Euijoo’s sure Nicholas can hear it, he bows his head. “Okay,” he says, swallowing. 

“Let’s go have a coffee,” Nicholas says, abruptly. “All of this drama tired me out.” 

Euijoo does not have it in him to protest, so he quickly gathers his notebooks and follows Nicholas to his favourite cafe on this side of campus. When they sit opposite of each other, chatting about everything and nothing, and it starts feeling like a date, he sternly tells himself that they’re just keeping up appearances. 

Yes, all he is doing is convincing the people around him that Nicholas and he are in love. 

--

“Jo,” says Euijoo, as soon as he steps into the apartment, walking to the couch and throwing himself down onto it miserably. When he speaks, he tilts his head to the side so that his voice doesn’t get muffled. “How do I tell if girls are flirting with me?” 

Instead of answering him, Jo just bursts out into laughter, so violently that Euijoo is worried he’s going to start throwing up.

--

They’re waiting in front of the door to Fuma and Yūdai’s apartment and Nicholas is fussing with his clothes so badly that Euijoo thinks he’s going to rip off one of his buttons. This is their first official meeting with Nicholas’ friends, just a casual hangout in the massive highrise penthouse apartment of the two oldest of the group, who have apparently told Nicholas to take Euijoo along with emphasis. So, here they are. When Nicholas curses when his fingers snag in the chain hung from his belt loops, Euijoo turns to him, raising one eyebrow as he looks down at the other’s shaking hands. “You know we’re just here to have dinner, right?” 

“I’m nervous, okay!” Nicholas hisses, his eyebrows drawing together and eyes flashing. “I have a lot riding on this. And I know that you don’t have any stakes in this—this game, but this is important to me.”

“ No stakes ?” says Euijoo, wounded. “I’ve got my whole—admittedly not that great—social standing riding on this! Your friends could literally ruin my life for the rest of my life.” 

Nicholas takes a step closer, gaze stormy. “My friends are not that bad!” 

Euijoo scoffs, drawing himself up to his full height and enjoying the way that he has a few centimetres on Nicholas. “Well, you’re acting as if they are!” 

The door is pulled open before Nicholas can open his mouth to retort, and they jump apart like they’ve been burned. There’s a man on the other side wearing a casual sweater, dyed golden hair curling effortlessly down his forehead, and a small, knowing smile on his face. Euijoo blushes, suddenly realising that their close position might have looked . . . suggestive, to an outside observer. 

“Ah,” says the man, his eyes flickering between the two of them, even if the rest of his expression gives nothing away. Fuma? Yūdai? Euijoo isn’t quite sure, all of a sudden. “You must be Byun Euijoo.”

Swallowing, Euijoo bows. “That’s right. Thank you for welcoming me so warmly.”  

“It is our pleasure,” the guy assures him. Euijoo would probably guess him to be Yūdai, the older of the two hosts. He steps aside to let the two of them in, eyes scrunching up in delight. “We were always hoping that Nicho would get together with someone who could match his spirit. I’m really happy that that seems to be the case.” Completely apropos of nothing.

Like a wounded swan, Nicholas groans and punches Yūdai in the shoulder. “What does that even mean?” he groans. 

Euijoo suddenly gets why Nicholas referred to the two of his oldest hyungs as having parental energy. It suddenly feels like he is meeting his boyfriend’s mother. At least Yūdai seems to be pleased enough, eyes warm when he looks at Euijoo.

They kick off their shoes and walk into the living room, where a little group of friends is already gathered, strewn across the massive couches and comfortable looking chairs. They turn when they enter, calling out a casual greeting, though their eyes betray their curiosity. Euijoo quickly runs his eyes across them, trying to match up the guys with the quick introductions Nicholas had given him a few days ago.

On the one couch, their legs tangled together without a care in the world, it must be Taki and Harua. The little bunny looking one is definitely Harua, which means the other kid is Taki, dark hair curling down his nape. Fuma is Yūdai’s boyfriend, so it makes sense that he’s the one who reaches over and tugs him onto the couch next to him. Yuma is the smaller guy perched neatly in one of the lazy chairs, his legs tucked up next to him, looking exactly like a pleased cat looking out over his kingdom, blinking lazily at Euijoo. And that leaves the one who’s glaring at Euijoo suspiciously to be Maki, the maknae of the group. Euijoo swallows. Nicholas had begrudgingly admitted that the younger might be protective of Nicholas, so Euijoo just gives the younger a respectful nod as he tries not to betray how much he’s bricking it. 

After that, he quickly scurries over to Nicholas, who’s looking at him with an unreadable gaze, but tucks Euijoo underneath his arm as easy as breathing. Euijoo just wills his face not to do anything funny. 

“Nice to meet you all,” Euijoo says, bowing shallowly. “Thank you so much for allowing me to come along.”

Fuma laughs, a delightful sound, patting Yūdai on the thigh. “You don’t have to 

“Wow,” Taki pipes up, looking at Euijoo appraisingly. “You’re actually real.” 

Nicholas lets out a long breath through his nose. “Thank you for that, Taki,” he says, but the corners of his mouth are twitching. “You should learn to trust your hyung more, eh?” 

Maki scoffs, a petulant little sound. “It’s just surprising that allergic-to-commitment Wang Nicholas is finally in a relationship. Which he announced out of the blue when Matthew and Taerae-hyung were starting to plan the summer party. How nice of a coincidence.” 

“Yeah!” says Harua, perking up. “I thought Nico-hyung had the hots for—”

“Quiet,” Nicholas says, sharply. When Euijoo looks at him, the older boy has a stormy expression on his face. Harua seems to notice his displeasure too, for he shrinks back with a meek apology. 

Euijoo can’t help but latch onto the Harua’s words. Nicholas has a crush on someone? And he’s here with Euijoo, who is literally pretending to be his boyfriend? The Taiwanese boy could literally have anyone if he just asked. Why are they going through this entire ordeal if there’s someone else that Nicholas is interested in in the first place? He wills the thoughts away when Yūdai, unaware or uncaring of the weird tension in the room, asks him about his major, which means that Euijoo starts nervously infodumping about polynomials and the concept of infinity. At least Fuma and Yūdai seem to be endeared by him, which Euijoo takes as a good sign. 

They get food delivered, because these guys are too rich to even think about lifting a finger to cook, a pile of food so large that Euijoo actually feels his eyes widening when he takes in the amount of bags Maki and Taki are carrying inside. 

“Oh hey,” says Euijoo, when he notices the logo on the side of one of the bags. “This is my housemate Jo’s favourite place.” 

Taki jumps up, his eyes blown wide. “You’re Asakusa Jo’s roommate?” he screeches. 

“Um,” says Euijoo, blinking. “Yeah?” 

Even Nicholas seems to be putting one and one together, laughing delightedly as he leans closer so that he can put his mouth next to Euijoo’s ear. He luckily doesn’t notice how Euijoo shivers at the proximity. “Yuma has a huge crush on the guy,” he whispers conspiratorially. “But he’s been absolutely awful at getting the guy to notice him, because he’s slippery to get a hold of.” 

Indeed, when Euijoo turns to Yuma, the younger boy is looking at him with interest in his glittering eyes. He laughs, a huff of air. “Jo’s got his head stuck in the clouds on a good day,” he tells Yuma. “But if you promise to treat him well, I might ask him if it’s okay to give you his number.” 

Yuma nods so violently that Euijoo’s worried his head is going to pop off his neck, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. “I just need one chance, Euijoo-ssi.” 

“You’re so dramatic,” Harua says, rolling his eyes. 

Taki whacks him in the shoulder. “That’s young love, idiot.” 

“I’m literally older than the both of you, little squirts,” says Yuma, wielding his little snaggletooth like a weapon. He takes a bowl of noodles when Yūdai hands it to him with a grateful smile, then turns his pleading gaze back to Euijoo again, eyes sparkling. “Can you put in a good word about me to Asakusa Jo, Euijoo-ssi?”

“Jo isn’t that difficult,” Euijoo laughs. “He just looks aloof. In reality, he’s just like a poop-puppy.” 

Throughout the night, Nicholas remains a steady presence on Euijoo’s side. Even when he stands up to go to the toilet, he immediately returns to Euijoo’s side afterwards, his hand a heavy weight on Euijoo’s thigh. It’s equal parts comforting and weirdly arousing. Euijoo wishes he could figure out a way to move Nicholas’ hand down without calling attention to the way his fingers are running along the inside seam of his trousers like Euijoo’s a fidget toy. 

Somehow he endures. 

At the end of it all, when everyone’s winding down and heading home, Euijoo is pretty certain that they’ve at least convinced Nicholas’ friends. Most of them, at least. Maki still hasn’t stopped scowling at Euijoo at any chance he gets, though at least he has toned down on the snide remarks at everything Euijoo says. Euijoo just reminds himself that the maknae is protective. And not a sniffer dog there to suss out any lies. Because, despite what Euijoo had feared, he doesn’t have to lie too much that night. He and Nicholas had given an abridged version of how they’d met in the library, though Nicholas had seemed strangely fixated on not mentioning that Euijoo works at the IT desk. And Euijoo shyly confesses that he wasn’t that fashionable before, but that Nicholas is helping him break out of his shell a little bit. No, Nicholas hasn’t met Jo yet, but it’s something that’s on the agenda, if it’s up to Euijoo. And yes, he’s looking forward to the party at the end of the year, even though he’s kind of worried about becoming a senior. 

“We’re really glad that Nicholas has you,” Fuma tells Euijoo, when he walks them to the door as the group all starts heading out, squeezing Euijoo’s shoulder. “Feel free to drop by whenever, alright? You’re part of our group now.” 

“Thank you,” says Euijoo, smiling a little bit, even if it feels like there’s a twisted knot in his chest. This is all a lie, he tells himself, sternly. At the end of the year, everything will go back to normal. And that’s a good thing. 

His heart, of course, does not agree with that statement. And, in a rare show of solidarity, his mind feels the same. 

--

The dates-not-dates continue. Euijoo has been calling them “trial sessions”, while Nicholas doesn’t really call them anything. He just shows up and commandeers Euijoo’s time without giving him space to protest. Not that Euijoo’s doing a lot of protesting. Between their bickering and Nicholas being the most infuriating person in the world, they actually have more in common than Euijoo would have thought, and their conversations run smooth enough. Sure, sometimes it gets awkward when Euijoo asks after the logistics of the whole thing and Nicholas just flat out shoots him down, but Euijoo doesn’t let it get to him. 

He’s here for a reason after all. And that reason is to perform as Nicholas’ boyfriend, whatever that may look like. (He thinks it would look a lot like this.)

Another awkward thing is that Euijoo has completely given up on trying to pay for anything when he’s with Nicholas. He doesn’t even reach for his wallet anymore, or half-heartedly argue with Nicholas that they should split the bill sometimes, dammit. Instead, he just watches, wide-eyed, and tells himself that he doesn’t feel heat pool in his stomach as Nicholas hands off his black card without a care in the world no matter where they are—even if it’s just a cafe. He also steadfastly ignores Jo’s smug voice in the back of his head. Euijoo is not a sugar baby. He and Nicholas are the same age. How would that even work? 

Anyway, he sinks part of the money into his rent so that he has to take less hours at the IT desk, buys better groceries for both him and Jo ‘cause he feels embarrassed that Jo is also part of his mess, and puts the last part into his savings. The clothes Nicholas keeps giving him pile up in his closet, more than he can wear even if he pulls them on more often than not lately. 

It’s strange. Euijoo’s life is strange. But he’s pathetic and self-aware enough to know that he wouldn’t want it any other way at the moment. Even if he’s not certain he’s ready for this mirage to end. Even if his shaking heart sometimes forgets everything’s been fake all of this time. 

--

So far, the semester has been dragging towards the end, but out of nowhere, it starts sprinting towards the finish line. Euijoo feels like he’s been doing well all of this time and keeping up steadily, and then suddenly he’s behind on four different assignments and finals week is panting in his neck, ready to whack him with a big spoon. (When he explains that analogy to Jo, miserably, the younger boy just laughs until he cries.) 

Anyway, Euijoo herds Jo into the library for equal parts mental support and peer pressure, and they sit down at one of the tables in the back with a pile of snacks and about three different flavours of Redbull. If Euijoo’s going down, he’s going down fighting. 

It is an indeterminable amount of time later when Euijoo resurfaces, his mind spinning with graphs and numbers and formulas. At first, he doesn’t know what it was that stirred him out of his concentration, but as he blinks slowly, once, twice, he notices that Nicholas is literally hightailing his way over to their table.

There are only a handful of students scattered at the tables around them, but they’re all just as focused on their own work, and Euijoo’s pretty sure one of them is even asleep, his head tilted back at too awkward an angle to be considered natural. Anyway, Nicholas’ face is crossed over with laser focus as he cuts across the library floor, though the expression softens into something close to a smile when he plops down in the seat next to Euijoo, curls an arm around his shoulder, and presses a kiss to his cheek. 

They haven’t really kissed, is the thing. Or not even not really —they haven’t kissed, period. They haven’t even held hands. Most that they’ve done is the few times that Nicholas has curled his arm around Euijoo’s waist whenever they were out on their coffee dates and a girl started twirling her hair at Euijoo. They always backed down at that, the possessive arm combined with Nicholas’ sharp glare. 

So the kiss is . . . a surprise. But not an unwelcome one. In fact, Euijoo feels himself flush at the touch, hoping that Nicholas doesn’t notice. “Hey,” he manages to force out, trying to look unaffected. “Not studying?” 

Nicholas grins. “Taking a break.” 

Euijoo pokes him between the ribs, watches with a grin as he skitters away with a squeal but doesn’t release his hold on Euijoo’s shoulders. “How did you even find me here?” 

One of Nicholas’ shoulders raises in a shrug. “I saw you here before. You were so engrossed in your work that I didn’t want to call out to you and disturb your concentration. But I figured that you might be somewhere in the library, with finals coming so close. Call it a lucky guess.”

Like the embarrassment he is, Euijoo feels himself flush. Is he that obvious? Does Nicholas know him that well? He doesn’t dare to hope. “What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to see how you’re doing and give you some mental support,” says Nicholas, the corner of his mouth quirking up into something that looks genuine, eyes softening. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bar of Euijoo’s favourite chocolate, putting it on the desk between them. “Fighting, Euijoo-yah.”

For a moment, Euijoo struggles with what to say, his heart somersaulting on his tongue. “Thank you,” he manages to force out in the end. 

“Well, anyway.” Nicholas stands and pets Euijoo across the head. “I’m actually here because Yūdai-hyung has told me that they’re having a party soon because finals are coming up, and they want to have one beforehand. We’ll have to make an appearance.” 

“Yippee,” says Euijoo, who doesn’t think anything about this situation is particularly yippee.  

“He knows that I’m in on the scheme, right?” Jo asks, when Nicholas has drooped off again with a cheeky wink, eyebrows furrowed like he’s coming to some kind of conclusion. “Like, he doesn’t have to go through the whole nine yards when it’s just me.” 

Euijoo shrugs, uncertain. “He’s just keeping up appearances?” He can’t help the way the sentences pitches up into a question at the end, chewing on his lip. 

I don’t believe a word you’re saying, says the slant of Jo’s mouth, but at least he’s nice enough not to speak those words out loud.

--

Girls still come up to Euijoo to ask him for his number, though less than before. He only has to tell them, awkwardly at best, that he is a taken man with a boyfriend, for them to droop off again, cross. When they still push, he just drops Nicholas’ name and watches their eyes widen, before they bow eight times in quick succession and get the hell out of dodge. 

It is kind of a weird fame. Now, whenever Euijoo walks across campus, his headphones over his ears and his books piled in his arms, people stop to stare at him, or push their faces together to whisper. Reasonably, he knows this entire stint wouldn’t have only stayed inside the little bubble of Nicholas’ closest friends, because Nicholas is simply too popular and well known for that, but it’s still weird. He’s lived almost two-and-a-half years as a relative nobody and was happy enough with that. Now, Nicholas wraps his arm around Euijoo when they’re walking across the quad to stake his claim, and when Euijoo rambles about one of the professors in his class, he almost looks interested. He’s a good actor. Better than Euijoo could ever be. 

Luckily—or unluckily—for Euijoo, he has actually completely fallen for this new side of Nicholas he didn’t even know existed, puppy crush upgraded into an actual genuine interest. So, on Euijoo’s part, there isn’t that much acting at all. 

If Nicholas ever notices, about how Euijoo’s eyes linger too long or how his fingers always hold on a little too long to Nicholas’ own, he doesn’t say anything. 

--

Coffee becomes a thing between them. It’s mostly motivated by Nicholas, who will descend upon Euijoo no matter where he is, and grab him by the back of the scruff to drag him towards the nearest coffee shop to take a break. 

“You don’t have to do all this,” says Euijoo, one time, looking down at his hands fidgeting with his straw when he speaks. “Like this, I mean. Us. You know that, right? It’s not part of the agreement, and all.”

But Nicholas isn’t moved, just looking at Euijoo with a raised eyebrow. “If you look terrible, it also reflects badly on me,” he says. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if you’re going around walking like a shadow of yourself?” He quirks his lips up. “I might be an asshole most of the time, but that doesn’t mean it has to be all of the time.”

Euijoo blushes. “I don’t think you’re an asshole. You’re just . . . prickly, sometimes. Like a cat.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever called me a cat before,” says Nicholas, laughing. “At least to my face.” His eyes squint closed in pleasure, furthering Euijoo’s hypothesis. Don’t cats only close their eyes when they’re feeling comfortable? “I like it.”

“Also,” says Euijoo, still riding the high of Nicholas liking something he said and pressing on. “I feel bad because you’re always taking care of me, and I never do anything back.” He bites on his lip.

Nicholas snorts, derisively, then softens. “You don’t think this is relaxing to me?”

“I don’t know.” Euijoo doesn’t know where to look, his gaze darting around the room just so that he doesn’t have to look Nicholas in the eyes. “I don’t want you to feel like you always have to play a part.”  He gestures between the two of them. “Because all of this is . . . fun, but it’s not real, right?” His voice sounds flat even to his own ears. 

“Just let me worry about that,” Nicholas says, grinning. “And you worry about your own things, yeah?”

“Okay,” says Euijoo, and then shuts up before he can say something like, this doesn’t make any sense.

--

“I think I’m in love with Nicholas,” Euijoo tells Jo, looking up at the ceiling. They’re in Jo’s room, mood lighting scattered around the room casting the room in a pale blue glow. Euijoo’s spread out across Jo’s comfortable bed, his feet dangling off the end, while Jo sits at his desk, lazily spinning around on his spinny chair. 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” says Jo, though not unkindly. “It was always going to happen like this.”

Euijoo sighs, a long, drawn-out sound. He didn’t come to Jo for nice platitudes, because Jo isn’t the type of person to give them, but it still makes him wince to have it laid out so plainly. “I don’t wish he was more of an asshole, but it does make it harder for me to continue this. And it continues because it’s going to end . . .”

“You are a catch, Euijoo-hyung.” Jo abandons his chair to lie down next to Euijoo, fitting his awkwardly long body expertly into the space Euijoo has left for him. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Not even Nicholas.” 

“Thanks Jo,” says Euijoo. He reaches out and pats his friend on the hand. “Really.”

Jo’s mouth twists, amused. “Didn’t you say you have a lot more offers since you’ve been with Nicholas? Who knows, maybe your fake relationship will get you a real relationship in the end.”

Sighing, Euijoo rubs his fists across his eyes. “I don’t want to think about a hypothetical next relationship yet.” He sits up slightly, startling Jo. “Why don’t you tell me about what’s been going on with Yuma? Harua told me that the two of you have been talking extensively on Line. You know how he gossips.” 

To Euijoo’s surprise, Jo goes an adorable shade of pink, something that still looks graceful on him. He casts his gaze away, bashful. “Yuma is . . . really nice.” He swallows. “I’m enjoying talking to him. We have a lot more in common than I thought.”

“Ha,” says Euijoo, lamely. “My fake relationship is actually getting you a real relationship, huh?” 

“I don’t know where it is going yet,” Jo confesses. “But he’s treating me well. He told me that you threatened him.” He catches Euijoo’s gaze and giggles. “He likes you, don’t worry. I think he likes that you care about me.”

Euijoo lets out a little sigh, then grins. “I didn’t threaten him. I just told him that I was going to hack his school account and change all his grades if he broke your heart.” 

“Yah, hyung!” Jo whacks him in the shoulder. “Don’t chase him away!”

“If he likes you enough, he won’t be chased away by me,” Euijoo says, shrugging his shoulders. “And I’m your best friend, so the shovel talk is reserved for me. That’s just how it is.” He smiles. “You deserve someone who likes you a lot.”

Jo leans over and links their little fingers together, squeezing just once. “You too, hyung. We’ll get there together.”

--

“You look good,” says Nicholas, sounding genuine. They’re standing in front of the arcade just off campus, neon light falling across their faces, music spilling out of the open doors. Hongdae is busy tonight, students milling about as they enjoy the last handfuls of freedom before finals season is going to beat them into submission. 

Euijoo flushes, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Thank you.” He’s wearing the last shirt Nicholas had given him, his hair styled up in curls. His current glasses are new too, rounder than his earlier pair, which makes his face look even rounder, even cuter. “You look good too.”

Not that there’s a day that Nicholas doesn’t look good. He’s grown out his hair recently and dyed it a bit of a darker shade, the fringe curling seductively over one eyebrow. Combined with the silver jewelry looped through his ears and the make-up smudged around his narrow eyes, he looks like an absolute dream. 

Today, though, it’s not only the two of them, so Euijoo doesn’t allow his eyes to linger for too much longer. They’ve been invited to go to the arcade with Harua, Taki, and Maki, the gaggle of maknaes happy enough for Euijoo to tag along. He honestly thinks that Harua and Taki quite like him, but Maki hasn’t really warmed up to him yet. Euijoo doesn’t let it bother him. He’s told Jo that he talked to Yuma to treat him well because he’s Jo’s best friend, and it’s clear that Maki is really fond of Nicholas. For that, Euijoo can hardly blame him. Nicholas might look tough, but he’s got a really soft heart hidden underneath those layers of self-preservation. 

“Are you ready?” asks Nicholas, reaching up to push Euijoo’s glasses further up the bridge of his nose. 

Euijoo’s breath catches in his throat, but he nods, determined. “Let’s go.” 

Nicholas smiles and hooks his arm through Euijoo’s, and they walk inside to join the others already waiting for them.

“Unsurprisingly, the lovebirds are late!” Harua calls, raising his eyebrows teasingly. “Though, that doesn’t surprise me with Nico-hyung. All I hoped for was that Euijoo-hyung was going to teach him some manners.”

“Hey, I can totally be on time!” says Nicholas, laughing. “I was just busy with other things.”

Harua makes a fake(?) retching noise. 

“Let’s just go,” says Maki, voice clipped. He hasn’t even looked at Euijoo once, his gaze stormy, but that’s unsurprising. 

They play a handful of games. Euijoo is really bad at sports on average, so it doesn’t surprise him that Taki and Harua absolutely crush him and Nicholas at air hockey. Nicholas sulks about it until he gets to crush Maki at a game of hoops while the others cheer them on. The punching machine is an embarrassment, because Euijoo’s punch ends up racking up a lower score than even Harua. After that, the only reprieve is that Euijoo is surprisingly really good at the accuracy based shooter games, and he ends up absolutely blowing the others out of the ballpark. A weird thrill of pride runs through Euijoo when he lowers the plastic gun and sees that his own score is almost double of that of the next person. 

“Yay!” says Nicholas, throwing himself at Euijoo’s side and pressing a kiss against Euijoo’s cheek, totally ignoring the way Euijoo immediately goes as red as a firetruck. “I didn’t know you were so good at this.” 

“Me either!” laughs Euijoo, still high on the feeling of winning. “I’ll dedicate this win to you.”

Nicholas’ eyes blow wide, pleased. “This is the first time someone has said that to me,” he says, and he reaches up to squeeze Euijoo’s fingers between his own. 

Flushing and squeaking, Euijoo looks down at the contact. It’s not like they haven’t touched each other before, but somehow this feels differently. He quickly looks over his shoulder, blurting out a strangled, need to go to the toilet! before high tailing it out of there. 

Unsurprisingly, Maki follows him to the toilet, though he at least has the grace to wait for Euijoo to pee and wash his hands before he steps up to him. It was only a matter of time, after all. Euijoo immediately feels his shoulders tense, defensively. If Maki comes for him, he’s not going to take it lying down. 

“What do you want from Nicholas-hyung?” is the first thing out of Maki’s mouth. Not what Euijoo had expected, but not surprising either. 

Euijoo just raises one eyebrow. “Um, that he’s good to me and treats me well?” He mentally pats himself on the shoulder when he doesn’t stutter and his voice doesn’t waver. “I don’t know, the things one normally expects from their boyfriend?”

Maki makes an annoyed noise, a hiss of air between his teeth. “Nobody wants to date hyung without wanting something in return.”

“Yeah, that’s what relationships are,” says Euijoo, voice gentle. “It’s give and take.”

“Not what I meant and you know it,” Maki says, gruffly. “Nicholas-hyung isn’t just your normal boy next door.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, muscles bulging. “Anyway, when this all falls apart, I’ll be there to put him back together. And you’ll be gone.”

“Would it be so hard to believe that Nicholas actually likes me?” Euijoo huffs out, with all of the annoyance he can muster, pushing out his chest. He’s barely taller than the other, completely non-argumentative and a pushover at best, but he isn’t going to let just some kid tell him what he can or cannot do. 

But Maki just snorts and pulls away, shaking his head. “Nico-hyung likes having you around, so I’m not going to fight with you on this. But I’m keeping an eye on you. Something fishy is going on, and I’m going to figure out what it is.” He walks away, joining the group of friends again, easy as anything. 

“Whatever!” snaps Euijoo after him, even though it makes him feel silly. 

When he returns to Nicholas’ side, he allows the other’s easy smile and arm around his waist to calm him down, even if he still feels unsettled. He knows Maki is just protective of Nicholas, because that’s just the type of energy Nicholas inspires in his friends, but it was also Nicholas’ choice to have this arrangement. He had been the one to come to Euijoo, and not the other way around. Yes, Euijoo’s downfall started with Nicholas. Should all of this indeed break apart, that is what Euijoo is going to hold onto. 

--

The party Yūdai and Fuma are hosting is the Friday before exams start on Monday. Normally, Euijoo wouldn’t even think about going to a party on a day like that, but Nicholas has always been persuasive, and Euijoo is simply a weak man in the face of his pleading eyes and pouty mouth. It’s the whole reason he got into this mess after all. 

As the evening descends over the city, Euijoo finds himself in front of Jo’s door. He raises his head to knock, then thinks better of it (he’s literally never knocked on Jo’s door once, always just barges straight in), and cracks the door. Jo, who’d been lying on his bed, lazily scrolling through his phone, sits up, his hair flattened 

“I need your help,” Euijoo says, without preamble, squaring his shoulders and looking Jo right in the eyes. He thinks he carves somewhat of an imposing figure, but he feels nervous, like a shaking chihuahua. Maybe he’s become a better actor after all. “I need to be hot for this party.” 

Like a slow river meandering through the landscape, a smile blooms on Jo’s face. “You’ve come to the right person.” 

Oh god. Euijoo doesn’t doubt it, but something about the predatory gleam in Jo’s eyes makes him a little wary. The nerves are completely justified, he finds, when he finds himself seated on the closed toilet a handful of minutes later, Jo looming over him imposingly. Euijoo thinks that this is the first time he’s ever been slightly wary of his housemate. 

“Hold still, hyung,” says Jo, and he tries to sound authoritative, but it’s Jo, so it falls a little flat.

Euijoo squirms and screws up his face. “You’re literally poking your finger into my eye,” he complains. “ You try to keep still when that happens to you.” 

“I’m not poking you in the eye,” says Jo, lips twisting. “I’m putting in a contact lens.”

“Basically the same thing.” Euijoo grumbles but tilts his head back when Jo pushes against his chin, blinking up at the ceiling light and trying not to tear up too much. He still flinches when Jo’s finger descends into his eye, but Jo is somehow quicker, and the world sharpens when the lens settles comfortably on Euijoo’s cornea. He blinks once, twice, a bit of wetness welling up at his lash line, before he gets used to the sensation. The other lens is still a drama, but Jo just pries his eye open with his fingers and then places the lens down. 

“All done,” says Jo, brightly. “Don’t forget that you have to suffer for beauty.” 

Huffing through his nose, Euijoo smooths his fringe back into place. Then he goes to push up his glasses, but his fingers meet the empty air instead. Right. “I’m never doing that again.” 

Jo shrugs. “That’s up to you.” 

Contemplative, Euijoo bites his lip. “Do you have a shirt that I can borrow?” 

“What? Your sugar daddy hasn’t given you enough clothes yet?” Jo raises his eyebrow, grinning.

Pouting, Euijoo sags back against the wall behind the toilet, crossing his arms across his chest. “I wanted to wear a crop top,” he mumbles. “Nicholas made me wear one this one time when we went shopping, and I think he really liked what he saw then. I just want him to . . . look at me like that again.” 

“A crop top?” Jo looks shocked but perhaps not surprised. Then he nods, determined. “Sure, we can blow his mind. Your waist is too pretty to stay hidden forever anyway.” 

Euijoo scowls. “What does that mean?” 

“It means exactly what it says on the tin.” Jo pulls him to his feet with his fingers clasped around Euijoo’s wrist and then tugs him along to his bedroom, where he seats Euijoo on the bed so that he can rummage through his own closet. It doesn’t take him that long to find a top he likes, a triumphant little sound falling from his lips. He tosses the bundle of fabric at Euijoo, who fumbles with it only a little bit. “Okay, get changed in this and find a good pair of pants that fits with it too. After that, I can do your makeup for you.” 

Once Euijoo has done exactly that, he stares at himself in the mirror, mind a little blank. Sure, he’s wearing this exactly to show off what he looks like, but seeing it out in the open like this is a little, well, daunting. His skin is golden and smooth where it peeks out from underneath the top, the planes of his stomach flat. Even when he has his arms lowered, a slither of midriff is still visible, which feels weird and makes Euijoo feel a little bit exposed, but he also feels pretty at the same time. Like a whole other, daring Euijoo has awakened from the mind of awkward, quiet Euijoo. He squares his shoulders and clasps some golden chains around his neck—gifts from Nicholas, naturally—and then goes to find Jo, as he had ordered.

“Are you coming with?” Euijoo asks, glancing up hopefully, tilting his head to the side so that Jo can brush a little bit of blush below his eyes. Just to enhance the natural flush of his cheeks, as Jo had dictated. 

“It wasn’t my intention,” says Jo, though he looks conflicted, his mouth pursed. 

“ C’mon ,” whines Euijoo, doing his best to widen his eyes even more than normally, probably helped by the shimmery eyeshadow Jo had smoothed across his lids. “Yuma is definitely going to be present, since it’s at Yūdai-hyung and Fuma-hyung’s place. Just think about how happy he’s going to be to see you there.” 

Huffing out a laugh, Jo closes his eyes and then tips his head back. “Fine,” he says, after a brief moment of contemplation. “You’ve convinced me. Devil.” 

Euijoo waggles his eyebrows and sits on his friend’s bed as he watches him get ready. 

Despite the fact that Euijoo has never seen Jo go to a party for the entire three years they’ve now lived together, his housemate seems to be very well equipped at getting ready for one. He shimmers into a pretty shirt that shows off the long lines of his body, the hem sitting just above his waist, and then a pair of flattering baggy pants that seem to enhance the length of them rather than conceal it. Euijoo guesses it’s easy to dress up pretty when your face just looks like that, watching with muted envy as Jo only has to run his hands through his hair a couple of times for it to fall into place perfectly. 

“Okay,” says Jo, nodding at his reflection after he’s finished doing his makeup. “I’m done.” 

As they’re crossing the campus to go to Yūdai and Fuma’s apartment, Euijoo texts Nicholas that he’s on his way. Nicholas replies quickly, saying that he’d been roped into setting up so he’s already been present for a while. A few typos litter the text, making Euijoo suspect that Nicholas has fallen victim to a few shots already. It makes him grin. Despite the fact that Euijoo looks pretty willowy, he’s actually known to be able to hold his drinks pretty well. Nicholas being weak to alcohol is surprisingly cute.

When he gets to the apartment, he finds the party already in full swing, though it’s somehow more tame than he’d expected. They’re music and lights and an abundance of alcohol, but there aren’t any kids thrashing sofas or climbing up the curtains. It makes sense, he guesses. If these students are all in Nicholas’ net worth bracket, they’d probably be respectful enough not to spill their beer across the multiple-million won carpet. 

Yūdai finds them first, swinging Euijoo in a circle and planting a sticky kiss to his cheek. “You came!” he cheers. “Nicholas will be so pleased.” He looks at Jo and perks up. “And you must be the one that our Yuma is taken with. Jo, right? You’re very handsome.”

For a second, Jo seems overwhelmed by Yūdai’s energy, but then he smiles and bows shallowly. “I just tagged along with Euijoo-hyung. I hope that’s okay. Your apartment is gorgeous.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Every friend of Euijoo’s is a friend of ours.” Yūdai waves his hand, smiling indulgently. Jo tends to have that effect on people, Euijoo knows from experience. Then the older man turns to Euijoo again. “You better find Nicholas. He’s been sulky all night waiting for you. I bet you he’ll perk right up when he sees you.” 

“Alright,” says Euijoo, and flushes nervously when he looks at Jo from the corner of his eye. To his credit, Jo just seems preoccupied with finding Yuma in the crowd—a difficult feat as he isn’t approximately two metres tall like Jo—but the corners of his mouth do twitch, like he’s pushing down his smile. Still, he claps Jo on the shoulders with a sunny little grin. “Good luck. I’ll see around somewhere, probably.”

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to tell me about,” Jo jokes.

Euijoo rolls his eyes. “I’d tell you everything, idiot. Even the things you don’t want to know about.” And then, with a last smile at Yūdai, he sets off. 

Curious gazes follow him around the place as he ducks in and out of rooms to try and find Nicholas. Euijoo knows that it’s because he has a reputation now, as Nicholas’ boyfriend, but he also notices a few lingering, appreciative glances. It causes his cheeks to heat up even more than the relatively high temperature inside of the apartment had already coloured them red, but he forces himself not to cover his stomach with his hands. He’s here to show off, after all. That’s a leaf he’s taken out of Nicholas’ book.

Nicholas, who finds sprawled out across a couch, chatting to some friends Euijoo doesn’t recognise, as well as Harua and Maki. It must mean that Taki isn’t that far away either, but Euijoo doesn’t spot him for now.

However, Nicholas does spot Euijoo. A slow smile spreads across his face when they make eye contact, eyes kind of glassy from the drinks he must have consumed, though his hands are currently empty. And then his gaze wanders down, past Euijoo’s shoulders and towards his navel. Euijoo sees the exact time that Nicholas notices that Euijoo’s wearing a crop top, because his eyes widen and his mouth actually parts a little bit, stunned. God, what a glossy, pink mouth, Euijoo thinks, head spinning. 

“Damn, Euijoo-hyung!” whistles Harua, appreciatively. 

Those words seem to spur Nicholas into motion, for he jumps up from the couch and quickly wraps his arm around Euijoo’s waist, his palm settling on the bare skin just above Euijoo’s hip. “You look good like this,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. His hands squeezes down briefly, a possessive touch that burns hotly.  “I thought you would.” 

Euijoo gasps, a little sound that is luckily swallowed by the hum of the party around them, and turns his head so that he can face Nicholas. The space between their faces is almost negligible. “I could use a drink,” he says, willing his voice to stay even.

“Of course.” Nicholas lifts his hand away from Euijoo’s hip only so that he can wrap his fingers around Euijoo’s wrist, and then pulls him along to the kitchen. 

As they go, a few people call out to them here and there, and Nicholas is polite enough to respond, but he doesn’t hang around for a longer chat. Euijoo is kind of relieved at that, determinedly using Nicholas as a shield between him and the rest of the party. At one point, he sees Jo and Yuma, at the periphery of one of the rooms they pass, Jo leaning forward to whisper something in Yuma’s ear. Good for them, he manages to think, blankly, before Nicholas is tugging him forward again. 

The kitchen is massive, probably the size of Euijoo and Jo’s entire apartment, and there’s a few groups of fellow students standing around and chatting. Here, the music is more muffled, the source a few rooms away. Nicholas parks Euijoo next to the marble kitchen island and then goes on the hunt for a bottle of something and two cups, emerging triumphant. 

Original soju. Hm, Euijoo will survive. 

Nicholas pours the two of them a drink the size of a few shots and then clinks his cup against Euijoo’s. Grinning, Euijoo takes it from him and then throws the shot back. The alcohol burns a warm line down his throat and settles hotly in his stomach, but it doesn’t faze Euijoo, finishing the drink in a few swallows. When he lowers the cup again, licking his lips to get rid of the last traces of sticky alcohol, Nicholas is already looking back at him, his gaze blazing, fingers clamped around his own cup like a vice. 

“Let’s go dance!” Nicholas announces slash demands, and ignores Euijoo’s flustered but very much half-hearted attempts at protesting. Euijoo allows himself to be pulled along like a ragdoll again, and quickly finds himself on said dancefloor.

He’s not the worst dancer, even if he’s not the best. Typically, he doesn’t do clubs or parties, but he danced in his high school’s dance club for a few years, so he has pretty good control over his limbs when he tries to. Dancing at a party is not really dancing anyway, just kind of swaying and or rutting together, and Nicholas is hot and willing enough against Euijoo’s front that it’s not really a hardship for him to do just that. 

In the circle of Nicholas’ arms, feeling the heat of Nicholas’ eyes as he gazes up at Euijoo, he can almost trick himself into believing all of this is real. 

The voice at the back of Euijoo’s head, the one keeping him sane and reminding him that this is all fake, everything’s made up, is suspiciously quiet. Instead, Euijoo allows himself to sway into Nicholas’ personal space, his hands dipping underneath the other’s shirt to stroke along the smooth line of his back. Nicholas is kind of tiny and pliant like this despite the fact that he isn’t that much smaller than Euijoo, his breath huffing out along the curve of Euijoo’s jaw. Euijoo closes his eyes and bites down on his lip until he tastes copper in his mouth, willing himself not to do anything about it. Or else he’ll probably won’t be able to stop himself anymore.

“You’re a good dancer,” says Nicholas, his hands shockingly cold on Euijoo’s hips. 

“Thank you,” Euijoo says, raising his voice to be heard above the crowd around them. “So are you!” Not that it surprises him. Nicholas is the kind of person who excels at everything he does.

Teasingly, Nicholas swipes his fingers across Euijoo’s stomach, tickling across the patch of Euijoo’s happy trail disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. “I wasn’t joking when I said you looked good in this,” he murmurs. “Just the glimpse I saw of you before was enough to demonstrate that.” 

“I’m glad,” Euijoo says, the alcohol making his tongue a little bit looser, a bit more honest. “I wore it for you.”

Nicholas groans, tipping his head back like it pains him. “Damn it, Euijoo, will you stop being so damn kissable?” And then his hands curl into the front of Euijoo’s shirt and pull him closer. Right onto Nicholas’ mouth. 

Something must have come over Euijoo, because he just allows Nicholas to do whatever he wants. In fact, an outside onlooker might even say that he totally leans into it, tilting his head to the side so that the angle of their mouths sliding together gets even better, even hotter. He totally forgets they’re in the middle of the dancefloor, instead bringing up his hands so that he can cup Nicholas’ jaw between his fingers, his mouth opening on a sigh at the insistent prod of Nicholas tongue. Euijoo’s not a newbie at kissing, had a slew of boyfriends in his final years of high school, but kissing has never made him feel like this. So untethered and somehow completely rooted at the same time, like he could sink right into Nicholas’ soul and live there. 

“Let’s,” says Nicholas, separating himself from Euijoo’s mouth so that he can pull at Euijoo’s shirt and ruck it up a tiny bit. He doesn’t finish his sentence, mouth twisting into something determined. “I know a room that we can go to.” 

This is a bad idea, thinks Euijoo, dizzily, and then lets himself be pulled along. 

--

Apparently, when your fake-boyfriend knows the host of the party, it means you can go to rooms that nobody else is allowed in. Nicholas completely ignores the sign of Keep out! stuck to the wooden door and pushes Euijoo through the gap, then kicks it closed behind them again. The next moment, Euijoo is up against said door and being kissed within an inch of his life once more. 

Nicholas is just as bitey and demanding as Euijoo had expected him to be, his teeth sinking down into Euijoo’s bottom lip before he soothes the sting with his tongue. And he’s so vocal too, breathy little sighs and pleased hums bubbling up from his chest as Euijoo allows himself to be manhandled, his back stinging when Nicholas pushes him against the door with a bit more force so that he can slide his fingers along Euijoo’s waist. He really seems to like it there, his fingers roaming across the smooth skin like he’s trying to commit it to memory. 

“You’re sweet like—” Nicholas pulls back, panting harshly, his hands sliding around Euijoo’s hips so that he can anchor himself in place, his eyelashes fluttering. “Sweet like sugar. ” And then he dives forward and scrapes his teeth along Euijoo’s neck, relishing in the throaty sound the touch pulls from Euijoo’s lips. He sucks a mark there, something that Euijoo will probably regret and treasure in equal amounts come morning, and grins when Euijoo whimpers. 

Euijoo gasps, tilting forward, when Nicholas sinks to his knees, his fingers hooking in the waistband of Euijoo’s trousers at the same time so that he can pull them down in the same movement. Dramatically, Euijoo’s half-hard cock springs up as it is freed from the confines of his boxers, slapping against his stomach with a wet noise. “What the fuck ,” says Nicholas, staring blankly. “You’ve been hiding this all of this time?”

Squeaking in embarrassment, Euijoo reaches down to cover his cock with his hands, but Nicholas bats him away, hissing. Like a cat, Euijoo thinks, distantly amused, and then swears when Nicholas curls his hand around the base. 

“Do you have any complaints about me putting my mouth on this?” Nicholas asks, his gaze hot and focused as he runs a finger along the underside of Euijoo’s dick, following the throbbing vein that runs there. 

“Complaints?” Euijoo manages, trying not to choke on his own tongue. His cock drools a blob of precome. 

Nicholas shrugs. “I had to ask.” Before diving forward and doing exactly as he said, his mouth popping open so that he can stick out his tongue and run it along the head of Euijoo’s cock. The hot, wet touch is so sudden and so welcome that Euijoo almost comes immediately, knees buckling. His hands fly out, trying to steady himself, and accidentally-not-so-accidentally tangle in Nicholas’ hair, breath coming out in short pants. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, when he pulls on Nicholas’ hair when the boy takes him deeper, humming around Euijoo’s length. 

Eyes blazing, Nicholas just redoubles his efforts, like the sting on his scalp is driving him to greater heights, seeming to unhinge his jaw so that he can fit more of Euijoo’s cock inside. He swallows around him, a dizzying suction, and Euijoo thinks he honestly could die happy here. Honestly, he might actually die or come. Whichever happens earlier. 

After a handful of seconds or perhaps an hour, Nicholas pulls off to breathe, licking his lips as he stares up at Euijoo with eclipsed eyes. Even on his knees, he still looks like a god. “You taste nice, Euijoo-yah,” he says. “You must eat a lot of fruit, hm? That’s very nice of you.” 

“You can’t just say that,” Euijoo says, miserably. 

Teasingly, Nicholas raises one eyebrow. “But I just did?” he murmurs, and then dives forward so that he can swallow Euijoo’s cock into his mouth again. 

“I’m going to come at an embarrassingly quick rate if you keep this up,” Euijoo says, his feet curling in his shoes, come-drunk brain making his tongue loose and honest. His head thunks against the door behind him when Nicholas just takes that as a challenge again to redouble his efforts, tongue and hands working in tandem to drive Euijoo towards his climax. 

When he comes, it’s with fireworks exploding behind his eyes. He only manages a desperate whine of Nicholas’ name to warn him, and then he’s coming, pulling back at the last second so that he spurts across Nicholas’ tongue and cheeks, one going as far as to splatter up the bridge of his nose. 

“Sorry!” says Euijoo, panting, his cheeks heating up in mortification. 

Nicholas looks a bit exasperated, though humour sparks in his gaze. He brings his hand to his face so that he can swipe them through the streaks of spend, gathering them up and then popping his fingers into his mouth. Euijoo whimpers at the sight, feeling like he’s been punched in the chest, his cock giving a little kick like he didn’t just blow his load.

“I’m almost a bit flattered,” Nicholas tells Euijoo, standing up so that he can curl his arms around Euijoo’s shoulders. And then he licks into Euijoo’s mouth, all salt and musk. Euijoo dizzily realises he tastes himself on Nicholas’ tongue.

As they kiss, Nicholas starts moving his hips into tiny little circles, and Euijoo’s trousers are still pooled at his feet so he can feel the heat and hardness of Nicholas’ where it’s only separated from Euijoo by two thin layers of fabric. Sure, Euijoo realises that Nicholas probably didn’t get on his knees and suck him off because he hates Euijoo, but feeling the physical proof of the other’s own arousal is jarring in the best way. Fire suddenly licks up his spine, and he shakes with the need to prove himself too. 

“Lemme just,” says Euijoo, his hand wandering down so that he can fumble with the button on Nicholas’ pants. It takes him a few bumbling seconds, but then he manages, quickly pulling down the fabric covering Nicholas’ dick. Nicholas just lets him, humming in delight when Euijoo swaps their positions and crowds him against the door instead. 

In all honesty, Euijoo knows that his dick is quite sizable. Probably larger than the average South Korean dude? So, Nicholas isn’t small, or anything, but next to Euijoo, he might as well be. It kind of blows Euijoo’s mind, his mouth popping open as he gazes down at Nicholas, who squirms and whimpers in his hold but doesn’t pull himself away. Nicholas dick’s gorgeous, just like he is, the head pink like his lips and leaking a steady stream of precome. Euijoo swipes his thumb across the head to gather some of the moisture and uses it to smooth the slide of his hand. 

“You’re quite pent up, huh?” Euijoo comments, almost thoughtfully, twisting his hand and watching Nicholas’ face intently for his reactions. He seems to like it a bit rougher, the drag a bit on the dry side, or when Euijoo digs his thumb into the slit. His whimpers get a bit more high-pitched when Euijoo does exactly that, his nails digging deeper into Euijoo’s side where he’s clinging onto him for dear life.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Euijoo-yah,” says Nicholas, panting like he has to force the words from his lips. But he looks strangely appreciative, his eyes flashing. 

Euijoo didn’t know about himself either. It seems like Nicholas has opened some kind of door that Euijoo hadn’t even realised was closed. He finds that he doesn’t mind it, and is eager to explore more about it. 

When Nicholas comes, it is exactly when Euijoo kisses him, their lips sliding together with a slick sound, and Euijoo catches his spent into the palm of his hand. It’s warm and kind of slimy, but Euijoo doesn’t really mind it, thoughtlessly bringing it up to his mouth so that he can lick himself clean. 

“God,” says Nicholas, grinning up at Euijoo almost deliriously. He’s sated like a cat. “That was great.”

It honestly was a disaster, but Euijoo’s too gone to say any of that. Instead, he allows Nicholas to clean the both of them with a wet wipe that he procures from who knows where, and then tugs his trousers back up his waist. If he’s distracted for the rest of the time he spends at the party, and his hair is a bit ruffled and his mouth is a bit kiss-swollen, everybody is nice enough not to comment on it.  

--

Finals week arrives and it is hell. That’s why it’s called hell week. Or something. Euijoo must get a combined six-and-a-half hours of sleep throughout the entire five days of exams and paper deadlines. It’s a record low, even for him. On Friday afternoon, he manages to stumble home from his last exam and immediately collapses face first into his bed, blissful darkness overtaking him. He wakes up five hours later, disoriented, with drool crusted around his mouth and the lines of his pillow imprinted onto his cheek. 

When he peels himself away from his bed, eyes bleary and hair sticking straight up, he pads out into the living room and finds Jo on the couch, eating a bowl of naked white rice with his gaze pointed towards the television, despite the fact he hasn’t turned it on. Euijoo quirks his lips up at Jo, who manages a few dazed blinks, before turning back to his rice again. About as expected.

Euijoo makes himself some instant ramyeon, which he eats right at the counter, slurping it from the golden pot. After that, he wanders back to his bedroom, manages to actually brush his teeth and shower, and then falls asleep again as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

--

Despite the fact that it feels like it’s always been far on the horizon, the summer end-of-year party, which is the sole reason that Nicholas dragged Euijoo into this entire scheme in the first place, arrives after all. One moment, Euijoo is still recovering from finals week, the next he’s getting back his results (they’re as expected, full marks on almost everything) and receiving a gorgeous golden necklace from Nicholas as a present for the results, and then the next Nicholas is at his door and dragging him along to his apartment to put on the suits he had custom made for them. For the party.

The party after which they will break up again, that is, as stated in their agreement. Woohoo.  

Euijoo can’t decide if he wants this party to drag on or be over as fast as possible. Before he can think about that too much, though, they arrive at Nicholas’ apartment, where he is shoved into one of the guest rooms and told to change. 

Nicholas had chosen a white, linen suit for him without a shirt underneath, a thick white choker around his neck with the ends hanging down giving him a semblance of decency. The party starts in the late afternoon and ends somewhere deep in the rich navy of the night, taking place at a fancy venue just off campus that has been rented out by Nicholas’ friends Matthew and Taerae. It’ll be mostly rich kids attending, all in fancy, fitted suits just like these, rubbing shoulders and chuckling about the year that had just passed. Probably, once the summer holidays start for real, they’ll take their private jets to some kind of summery paradise.

Euijoo will just go to his parents and probably eat away his sorrows while staring at Nicholas’ gorgeously curated Instagram feed. Because yes, Euijoo follows Nicholas on Instagram. Just like half of the university populace does, probably. And yes, his feed is immaculate. Not that Euijoo expects any different.

“Are you ready?” Nicholas gives Euijoo two seconds to respond before he barges inside, skidding to a harsh stop when he comes face to face with Euijoo. Euijoo feels himself grow red when Nicholas stays quiet for a while, eyes trailing across Euijoo’s entire body, his gaze dark. 

All of a sudden, Euijoo feels like a prey animal backed into a corner. 

Then Nicholas seems to snap out of it again, shaking himself, and drags Euijoo along to the bathroom to fluff up his hair and do his makeup. At the end of it, Euijoo thinks he looks vaguely cherubic, while Nicholas, in his matching white-and-gold detailed suit, looks more like a Greek god. They’re dressed up to theme, of course, the invites having arrived a handful of weeks ago. Euijoo watches as Nicholas brushes shimmery gold along his cheekbones and tries not to blurt out that he’s in love with him.  

“Let’s go,” says Nicholas. “I’ve called a Kakao Taxi.” 

It’s a short ride to the venue, and Euijoo spends the entire ride sneaking looks at Nicholas and wondering if he could sneak in a kiss again. They hadn’t talked about what had happened at that party, but sometimes Euijoo catches Nicholas sneaking him looks, and it makes him ache. And go crazy. Is he missing something? Or is he just seeing what he wants to see? Euijoo can’t decide. 

The party is set up absolutely beautifully. The venue is partly outside in a beautiful grassy field surrounded by trees, a large white party tent set up in the middle with golden and white flags and streamers pouring down. Waiters in fancy jackets carry around platters with drinks and snacks, and there is an open bar. A DJ-booth is set up in a corner, a professional DJ that Euijoo vaguely recognises bobbing her head along to the beat. The lives of the rich and affluent, eh? 

Matthew and Taerae, the hosts, meet them at the entrance, clad in gorgeously billowing golden dress shirts. They’ve both dyed their hair a caramel colour for the occasion too, and they look like what angels would look like if they were real. Euijoo feels kind of unworthy just standing next to them, but Matthew is so excitable and so loveable that he quickly gets swept up in the mood. 

All of their friends are here already. Jo had tagged along with Yuma, dressed in a gorgeous white shirt and flattering chinos, a golden watch fastened around his wrist. Yuma himself has swapped the colours around, a flattering thin sweater with white jeans below that. Yūdai and Fuma are both a vision in cream colours, Yūdai’s shirt a shimmery see-through that shows hints of his well-defined muscles when he moves. Harua and Taki are both in dark gold, puffed shirts with wide sleeves, beaded braids woven into their hair. And finally, there’s Maki, his hair neatly parted across his forehead, wearing a white suit with a darker buttoned shirt underneath. 

“Drinks first!” cheers Yūdai, who already looks kind of unsteady on his feet, and herds them towards the bar for refreshments. 

“I’m so happy to be here with you all,” Harua says excitedly, when they all clink their glasses together, and Euijoo can’t help but smile at that. He feels the same way. Even if this all a sham, the friendships he had forged with the guys in this little huddle are not fake. He hopes that they’ll forgive him, when this is all through, because he’s really grown to like them. Despite the fact each and every one is rich enough to buy Euijoo, they’ve all only shown him kindness. 

Well, all but one . . . Euijoo’s gaze wanders to Maki and finds the younger boy looking back at him with something like muted annoyance hidden in his gaze. It can’t be helped. 

After that, the party whorls around Euijoo. He dances with Nicholas, though this a lighter kind of dancing than the one they’d done at the house party, just an eager jumping up and down. In the setting golden sun, Nicholas looks like the prettiest thing Euijoo has ever seen. After that, Euijoo rubs shoulders and exchanges greetings and pleasantries with the other rich kids Nicholas introduces him to, his head spinning with their names—Jaehyun, Hao and Hanbin, Sohee and Seunghan, and of course the ever elusive Ricky—while Nicholas’ hand remains a steady weight in his own. Afterwards, there’s a fancy buffet, so Euijoo gorges himself on perfectly grilled pieces of meat and lobster tail, buttered rolls and neatly pleated dumplings. Nicholas laughs at him when his cheeks bulge with the food, but grabs a napkin to wipe at Euijoo’s lips. 

“It looks like you’re having a fun time,” Nicholas says, fondly. 

Euijoo nods, blushing. “It’s not everyday I get to eat lobster,” he defends himself, even though it isn’t quite what Nicholas meant and he knows it. He’s talking around the food in his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to care. “I guess I just wanted to indulge.” 

“You can always indulge,” Nicholas says, his voice suddenly pitching down, his gaze dark and sultry. His fingers linger on the corner of Euijoo’s mouth, pressing into the soft skin there. “I’ll make it so you can indulge if you want.” 

Swallowing, Euijoo turns his face away. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

“I never do,” says Nicholas, and he lowers his hand again, reaching over to the table to grab a dumpling. He smiles at Euijoo when he bites into it, staining his lip with the juices. 

Before Euijoo can do something wholly inappropriate like kiss the sauce from his lips, he pulls back, flustered. “Sorry, I think the alcohol is getting to me,” he says. “I’m just going to run to the bathroom quickly.” 

“Okay, hurry back,” says Nicholas, his lips quirking up. 

One of these days, Euijoo’s going to escape to the toilet in the middle of a crisis and not bump into Maki. Today is not that day. 

The kid’s not even waiting for him, but he’s just standing next to the hallway leading to the toilets, one leg propped up behind him, and the way his bangs spill across his forehead almost makes him look like the main character in a drama. “Ah, if it isn’t Byun Euijoo,” he says, when Euijoo draws closer. 

“Can I help you?” Euijoo asks, faintly annoyed, one of his eyebrows jumping up. Now that Maki has gotten him started, he pushes onwards, seething. “You’re always just looking at me like I’ve personally offended you. Will you please just tell me what’s going on so that I can figure out what your problem is?” 

“My problem?” says Maki, his eyes hazy and his lip curled up. “I don’t even know enough about you to have a problem with you, Euijoo-ssi.” 

Euijoo growls and steps forward. “Spare me your glib words. There’s something that you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?” 

“Yeah,” Maki slurs, and Euijoo realises that the other is clearly not that great at handling his alcohol, still swinging around his fancy tumbler with a golden drink that probably costs more than Euijoo’s entire life. Maybe it’s even made from real gold. “Nicho-hyung was crushing so hard on this guy that works behind the IT desk in the library all the way at the back of the campus. So, I don’t know why he suddenly showed up with you of all people.” 

“Wait,” says Euijoo, swaying. It feels like the alcohol suddenly has hit his system. “What did you just say?” 

Maki frowns. “About the guy working at the IT desk?” he asks, slowly. 

“Oh my god.” Euijoo can’t help the way he grabs onto Maki’s shoulders to steady himself, all of the strength leaving his legs. He’s panting, and he probably looks like he’s losing his mind, but that’s okay because it feels like he’s losing his mind. “That’s me. I’m the guy from the IT desk. Holy shit, it has always been me.” 

And then, to Maki’s wide-eyed surprise, he bursts out into tears. 

--

God bless whoever raised Maki, because they surely have done a good job. As soon as Euijoo starts crying, he drags him towards a tucked-away corner of the tent and sweeps him up in a big hug, soothingly patting Euijoo’s back. Euijoo makes sure that he cries into his own hands so that he doesn’t stain Maki’s shirt with his makeup, and manages to calm himself down after a few minutes of sobbing. It honestly feels quite cathartic. 

Maki rubs his shoulders through it all, and his brown eyes are a bit troubled when Euijoo pulls back. “You want to tell me what’s going on, Euijoo-ssi?” he asks. 

“Call me hyung,” says Euijoo, miserably. “It’s the least I can say after having snotted all over you.” 

“Believe me, my friends are a bunch of drama queens,” Maki says, dryly. “This isn’t the first time this has happened to me.” 

Euijoo smiles, and the expression falls somewhere between genuine and flat. “Okay, confession time. Me and Nicholas aren’t actually dating. He came to me a few months ago with this ludicrous plan to have us fake date because he told his friends that he had a boyfriend when he didn’t actually have one. And I was idiotic enough and easily swayed by the promise of money and gifts while also being allowed to brag that I was dating the hottest, most-wanted boy on campus, so I said yes. But then you confessed that Nicholas apparently liked me for real, and I don’t know? I panicked. And now we’re here.” 

It’s silent for a beat. 

“So,” says Maki then, half-teasing, half-serious. “You’re a sugar baby.” 

Euijoo groans and presses his palms into his eyes. “Shut up,” he sniffles. Then, after a beat of silence, defeatedly, “I guess so . . .” 

“There there,” says Maki, surprisingly kindly, and pats Euijoo on the shoulder. When he gazes up, he finds that the younger is looking down at him with genuine concern in his eyes, his lips pressed together. He’s seemingly sobered up a lot from Euijoo bursting out into tears and sniveling all over his fancy dress shirt, his gaze clear and bright. 

“You must think of me an idiot,” says Euijoo, tilting his head back. “For agreeing to go along with this stupid scheme in the first place.” 

Maki hums. “I honestly just think that Nicholas-hyung is the idiot here,” he says, after a beat. “For thinking up this stupid idea instead of asking you to date for real. I guess he’s just always been so in control of everything that he must’ve been scared to ask you out and have it really be a thing, you know?” 

That does sound like Nicholas. He always seemed so sure of himself. Bigger than life and twice as bright as the sun. Everything is a challenge to him, but only because he knows that there isn’t a hurdle too high for him to beat. He grabs onto the world with both hands and tears it open like a tangerine, sticky juices on his hands and sweet flesh staining his lips. Euijoo guesses there isn’t a situation that is more scary to a person like that than the thought of being in a relationship. Sharing something with someone like that. Giving yourself over to another person. All in all, it is pretty on par with Nicholas as a person that he had decided to do it this way. 

“I do feel kind of bad to hyung,” says Maki, a chuckle falling from his lips. “For revealing his puppy crush to you. I think most of our friends had already forgotten about his infatuation, but I never did. It was the first time he ever showed an interest in anyone like that.”  

Euijoo shrugs. “Well, what’s done is done. And now I can use this information to move forward.” 

“So,” says Maki, a smile appearing on his lips, transforming his entire face into something sweeter and younger. “What will you do next?” 

“Something I’ve been dreading to do for a long time,” Euijoo says, nodding determinedly. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders, looking Maki right in the eyes. “But something that always had to happen anyway. I have to break up with Nicholas.” 

--

With the help of Maki, Euijoo manages to clean himself up and actually look presentable again. He joins his friends again and fields their questions about his absence, curling his arm around Nicholas’ waist. His heart stutters in his chest when Nicholas smiles up at him, small and real. Knowing what he knows now, Euijoo can’t believe he ever fooled himself into thinking this wasn’t real. Nothing has ever felt as real as this. 

Euijoo is not cruel enough to break up with Nicholas now, not when he’s clearly so happy and in his element, hearts in his brown eyes and a sunny smile on his lips. No, Euijoo won’t break his heart tonight. Won’t break his own heart tonight either. But it has to be soon. Before summer. 

It is the only way. 

--

An opportunity announces itself quickly enough. Before they all fly out to various corners of the world to spend their summer holidays, Yūdai and Fuma invite them over to have one last little get together before the summer holiday announces itself for real. Euijoo is eager to have some barbecued meat and buttered corn, but he also dreads what he knows he has to do. 

“Today is the day,” Euijoo tells himself in the mirror. One way or another, it’s gotta end. He walks to the apartment with Jo, who dodges the question whenever Euijoo asks but is definitely dating Yuma by now. Euijoo is really happy for them. 

“Today is the day,” Euijoo tells Maki, when he gets to the apartment, swallowing, quickly breaking away from the others to whisper at him. Someone has to know, before he chickens out. 

Maki immediately understands what he’s saying, leaning forward and squeezing Euijoo’s arm. “You got this, hyung,” he says, a small smile on his face. 

Euijoo nods at him and then smiles. “Thank you for having my back.” 

“Of course,” says Maki. “We both only want the best for Nicholas-hyung, after all. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realise that.” 

“Well, we got here in the end, didn’t we?” Euijoo hugs him, quickly, and pulls away before Maki can react. The younger just stares at him, mouth opening and closing, before he smiles. And then he winks at Euijoo before he skips away. 

Nicholas finds him quickly, because he is Nicholas. When he smiles at Euijoo, curling his arm around Euijoo’s waist, it lights up his entire face, and Euijoo can’t believe he managed to fool himself for so long that this was all fake. He’s such an idiot. But he also knows that he needs to hold onto this thing, this funny, precious thing. Before it is too late. 

“Wait,” says Euijoo, grabbing Nicholas’ wrist and pulling him closer to him. He has to do it now. “Can we talk somewhere?”

Nicholas stares at him with a flat gaze, then tilts his chin up. His arms cross in front of his chest, clearly a defensive pose. Euijoo wonders if the other knows what he’s going to say. “Everything you have to discuss with me, you can say in front of my friends.” 

Fine, you impossible creature. Euijoo takes a long breath, but he doesn’t back down from the challenge. “Let’s break up.” 

“What do you mean?” says Nicholas, still smiling, though the corners of his eyes are strained and tight. “Nevermind. Let’s talk about this some other time.” 

“I’m serious,” says Euijoo, stubbornly. He knows he’s pushing out his bottom lip, petulant, but he can’t bring himself to care about that right now. “Let’s put an end to this, Nicholas. It’s been enough, right?” 

Nicholas shakes his head, pulling away from Euijoo. “I’m not entertaining this now, Euijoo.” And then he starts walking away, casually as anything. 

“Listen to me, Wang Yixiang, you lovely, obtuse idiot of a boy!” Euijoo shouts after him, exasperated, throwing up his hands. He doesn’t care who hears. Everyone is allowed to know, fuck it. “I want to fake break up with you from this fake relationship! So that I can date you for real!”

Nicholas stops and goes very still, turning to Euijoo with wide eyes. “What?” he says, his voice small. 

“I know you like me,” says Euijoo, chest heaving. “I know you liked me before all of this.” He gestures between the two of them, ears probably fire-engine red and chest heaving. All of their friends have gone silent, various expressions of disbelief and wonder on their faces. Except for Jo, who looks just like Jo, and Maki, who looks proud. And that is what allows Euijoo to press on. “I think we had a good run, Nicholas. But none of this was fake to me. I told you I was a horrible actor, didn’t I? That wasn’t a lie. I could only scam the people around us 

Eyes still the size of two moons, Nicholas swallows. He’s turning a darling pink, the most flustered Euijoo has ever seen him. “How did you know I liked you?” he asks, at last. But he doesn’t deny it.

Clearing his throat, Maki raises his hand. “That is my fault!” he calls. “Sorry, hyung!” 

“Maki!” Yūdai swats him in the back of his head, but he’s laughing, his face a cross between understanding and confusion. 

Nicholas rolls his eyes when he looks at the youngest, but he’s smiling. He turns to Euijoo again, hope shimmering in his expressive eyes. Euijoo can’t believe he ever thought Nicholas was hard to read. “Do you mean it?” he asks, his voice soft. “What you said?” 

“Do you honestly think I would have dared to confess all of this in front of everyone if I didn’t mean it?” Euijoo asks, blinking. 

For a moment, it is silent as Nicholas takes those words in. Then he bursts out in laughter, actually doubling forward as he puts his hands on his knees while he wheezes. When he looks up at Euijoo, tears bead at the corners of his eyes, but they’re one part relieved, one part absolutely overjoyed. He looks gorgeous. “You’re so damn right, Byun Euijoo,” he says, his voice so full and warm. And then he walks back to Euijoo with big steps, cups his face between his hands, and kisses him. Right where everyone can see them. 

Euijoo doesn’t mind, just surges forward and kisses him back. Around them, their friends start cheering and shouting, something like surprised excitement on their faces. It all fades into the background when he feels Nicholas’ lips curl up into a smile underneath his own. 

When he pulls back, his panting and flushed and happy. Opposite of him, Nicholas mirrors his expression, joy lighting up his eyes. 

“If the lovebirds have settled all of their drama,” says Yūdai loudly, breaking through their happy little bubble. “Shall we have some barbecued meat for real? And then, perhaps, if the two of you are up for it, you can explain what the fuck has been going on between the two of you.” 

Laughing, Euijoo pushes his fringe out of his face. “I think we can do that, yeah.” 

Nicholas reaches down and laces their fingers again, squeezing his hand briefly. “Shall we start at the beginning, boyfriend?” 

“Yeah,” says Euijoo, squeezing him back and grinning widely. He lets himself be tugged towards the barbecue. “I’d like that, boyfriend.”

--

The night before Nicholas flies away to go to Taiwan for the summer, he’s at Euijoo’s door. It honestly surprises Euijoo, because they’ve already had a very enthusiastic makeout session to say goodbye, but as soon as he opens the door, he’s being jumped, Nicholas trusting that Euijoo is going to catch him. 

“Nico!” he laughs, wrapping his boyfriend in his arms. “What are you doing here?” 

Pouting, Nicholas reaches up and touches the side of Euijoo’s mouth. “I already missed you,” he sighs. “I can’t believe we have to be separated for an entire summer when I just got you. Can I not convince you to fly you out to Taiwan? Just for a few days?” 

“Absolutely not,” says Euijoo, booping him on the nose. “It’s way too soon for that.” 

“Fine,” Nicholas grumbles, clearly petulant. Then he lifts himself up on his toes so that he can nudge his nose into the curve of Euijoo’s neck. “At least fuck me one last time, so that I have something to remember you by when I’m gone.” 

Euijoo feels all of his blood rush downwards so quickly he feels lightheaded from it. “Excuse me?” he squeaks.

Nicholas clicks his tongue and starts walking Euijoo backwards in the apartment, kicking off his shoes as he goes. “You heard me.” 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Euijoo says, groaning, but allows Nicholas to press him against the wall in the hallway so that they can slip their mouths together. At least Jo had already left the day before to go to his family over the summer holiday. One less thing to worry about. Since if there’s one thing that Nicholas cannot do, it is being quiet when he’s on Euijoo’s dick. 

“I’m literally putting out right now,” argues Nicholas, but he is smiling. “How is that a tease?” 

Rolling his eyes, Euijoo curls his hands around Nicholas’ waist so that he can lift him up, and then quickly walks to his room. He’s not the most athletic, but Nicholas isn’t the heaviest, so he makes it work, only breathing slightly heavy once he makes it to his room. And then he throws Nicholas on his bed, watches as he bounces up and down. Nicholas props himself up on his elbows and watches Euijoo’s approach with dark eyes and raised eyebrows. 

His body welcomes Euijoo easily when Euijoo leans forward, balancing himself on his palms on both sides of Nicholas’ chest so that he can reach down and kiss him again. He’ll never tire of kissing Nicholas. That’s one thing that’s for sure. 

“C’mon,” laughs Nicholas, tugging at the bottom of Euijoo’s shirt. “I didn’t come here just to be romanced, pretty boy. Come on, show me how well you can treat me.” 

“Needy,” Euijoo says, grumbling, but obediently stretches so that the both of them can strip down. 

As always, Nicholas is all gorgeous lines and flat planes. He’s subtly muscled and a pale golden all over, his chest already slightly sweaty just from the way Euijoo had slipped his tongue into his mouth to kiss him, and his nipples are rosy and pebbled. Euijoo tweaks one, scraping his nails across the sensitive skin as he does, and grins when Nicholas moans and curls into the touch. Then he kisses Nicholas again, just because he can. 

“Want you to ride me,” he says, against Nicholas’ lips.

“You just want me to do all the work,” huffs Nicholas, but there’s absolutely no heat behind it, his eyes gleaming when Euijoo pulls back.

Euijoo shrugs and smiles. “Well, you came to me, after all . . .”

Nicholas likes it a bit more when the fit is still a bit of squeeze, when he has to take some time to adjust himself around Euijoo, like Euijoo is carving a space for himself inside of him. So, Euijoo makes quick work of prepping him, though he uses enough lube for everything to become a slick and sticky mess. That’s how Euijoo likes it the most, after all. And there’s enough time for him to do some laundry after this, before he has to leave tomorrow. He rolls a condom onto his dick and slicks himself up, messy and perfect. 

When Nicholas perches on top of him and sinks down on Euijoo’s dick, it’s like a king sitting down on his throne. He’s tight like a vice and his face screws up in pleasure the entire way down, and when he finally bottoms out, he has to take a few minutes to catch his breath, his palms flattened across Euijoo’s chest.

“You’re so gorgeous, my Nico,” says Euijoo, reaching up to brush a sweaty strand of hair out of Nicholas’ eyes. “Look at me, my dearest.” He can’t help the pet name escaping, and from the way Nicholas clenches around him when his gaze snaps up, he doesn’t think the other hates it either.

“I’m ready,” Nicholas says, and starts moving up and down. The movement is slow at first, his hips grinding deliciously dirty around Euijoo’s cock. And then he starts fucking himself in earnest, pleased little gasps spilling from his mouth as his fingers scramble for purchase where they’re clamped around Euijoo’s waist. 

“Pretty boy,” murmurs Euijoo, almost like a mantra. “My pretty boy.” 

Nicholas nods, his long hair flying. “I’m your pretty boy,” he agrees, sighing. “And you’re my gorgeous, sweet boy. So it makes sense.” 

Way too soon, Euijoo feels his climax building in his stomach. When Nicholas starts whining and shivering, his movements slowing down, Euijoo quickly flips their positions so that he can fuck into Nicholas with long, deep strokes. As before, Nicholas immediately starts babbling and moaning, Mandarin mixed in with his Korean, face flushed and screwed up in pleasure. They kiss, but it is more of a messy press of their lips than anything else, the two of them panting into each other’s mouths. 

Euijoo wraps his hand around Nicholas’ cock, which had been mostly neglected so far, and starts wanking him off in time with his thrusts. After that, it doesn’t take Nicholas that long anymore to come, immediately clamping down on Euijoo as he shudders and spills all over Euijoo’s fingers. The visual of his face screwed up in ecstasy combined with the feeling of his walls contracting around Euijoo’s cock is enough for Euijoo to come as well, burrowing his face into Nicholas’ neck as he grunts and empties himself in the condom. 

I’m never going to let you go again, Euijoo thinks as he collapses next to Nicholas, spent and satisfied. From the way Nicholas is looking back at him and reaches out to tangle their fingers together, he thinks the other might feel the same. 

--

Summer melts into fall almost unnoticeably, and with it comes the start of the new year. When Euijoo arrives back on campus, a spring in his step, it is still so hot that it might as well still be the height of summer. He tugs his suitcase behind him, humming to himself. Jo and him had kept the lease on their apartment, which means that Euijoo’s spending another year with the best housemate in the world. And yes, it’s his final year, which means it will be tough and means that he has to start making decisions after this about what he wants to do, and that’s scary, but he thinks he’s got it. After all, he’s got the best friends in the world behind him. And of course, his boyfriend. Just thinking of him brings a smile to Euijoo’s face, and he pushes forward. Then almost immediately comes to a stop. 

There, on the bench outside of their apartment, is a guy, slumped over and scrolling on his phone lazily. He doesn’t react when Euijoo comes closer, but Euijoo recognises him almost immediately, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. 

“Were you waiting for me?” Euijoo calls, teasingly.

Nicholas shrugs one shoulder and grins, standing up and stretching. Then he prowls closer, his gaze settled firmly on Euijoo. “Jo told me you were coming back today,” he tells Euijoo. “Anyway, I don’t think I need a reason to see my boyfriend, right?”

“That’s right.” Euijoo curls his hand around the back of Nicholas’ neck and pulls him closer so that he can press their smiling mouths together. “I missed you too, boyfriend.” 

“Always so sweet,” says Nicholas, but he’s smiling. It’s almost like the entire world is smiling too.