Work Text:
Ricky never felt the need to try too hard when he was with Taerae. Unlike with others he had met, aligning himself with Taerae felt natural. They had a similar energy, an unspoken understanding of what looked good without overthinking it. On days when Ricky felt confident, even their fashion styles matched—clean, relaxed, and effortlessly cool. Their relationship developed naturally.
When they finally decided to date, it wasn’t a dramatic moment. No awkward confessions, no grand gestures. One day, they were just Ricky and Taerae, enjoying each other’s company as usual. The next, they were Ricky and Taerae as a couple. It felt inevitable, like something that had already existed between them long before either of them had put it into words.
Today, Ricky felt like playing basketball. The weather was nice, the court near his house was empty, and his body craved movement. He stretched lazily, rolling his neck until it popped before dribbling the ball and taking a three-point shot. The ball bounced off the backboard and swished through the hoop. Satisfied, he continued playing, enjoying the rhythm of the game.
And he knew. Knew that Taerae wouldn’t join him. It wasn’t even a question. Taerae had made it clear many times—he didn’t like exercising. He hated sweating, disliked running, and avoided any activity he deemed unnecessary. He also despised getting his hands dirty, which made sports an automatic no for him. Ricky had once joked about how Taerae probably wouldn’t even touch a basketball if he had to clean it afterward. Taerae hadn’t disagreed.
Ricky wasn’t disappointed in the slightest; he actually found it amusing. There was something reassuring about Taerae’s predictability, about the way he stuck to his principles no matter how trivial they were.
Sure enough, Taerae was exactly where Ricky expected him to be—sitting on the bench at the edge of the court, one leg crossed, casually scrolling through his phone. He had a drink in one hand, sipping occasionally, and was probably deep into some article or music video. He didn’t even pretend to be interested in what Ricky was doing. He was just there, present, as he always was.
Ricky played for a while, half because he enjoyed the game, half because he wanted to see if he could get a reaction out of Taerae. He exaggerated his movements, showed off a little every time he made a shot, and even glanced over a few times just to check. Nothing. No applause, no sarcastic remarks, no teasing grin. Taerae was unbothered.
Eventually, Ricky got tired and jogged over to Taerae, running a hand through his damp hair. He plopped down next to him, breathing heavily, feeling the sweat stick to his skin.
“You’re really just going to sit there the whole time?” he asked, grabbing his water bottle and taking a long sip.
Taerae finally looked up, his eyes lazily scanning Ricky’s sweat-slicked skin. His nose scrunched slightly, clearly unimpressed by the sight. “I told you I wasn’t going to play,” he said flatly. “I don’t do unnecessary cardio.”
“You could at least cheer me on,” Ricky said with a smirk.
Taerae raised an eyebrow. “I don’t reward bad decisions.”
Ricky let out a quiet laugh, nudging Taerae’s leg with his knee before flopping down next to him. Their shoulders touched, but neither of them moved away. Ricky’s heart was still beating a little fast from the game, but there was another kind of rush settling in now—the kind that always crept up when Taerae was close.
He turned his head slightly, catching the way Taerae’s lips parted just a fraction, as if he was about to say something but changed his mind. Ricky knew that look. It was the same hesitation Taerae always had before letting himself be affectionate in public. Ricky didn’t mind; he thought it was kind of cute.
Before Ricky could overthink it, before the moment could slip away, he leaned in.
The kiss was spontaneous, a little messy, and entirely theirs. Taerae’s lips were soft and warm, with a faint taste of the iced coffee he had been drinking earlier. Ricky sighed against his mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss just a little before pulling away.
When he opened his eyes, Taerae was looking at him, his expression unreadable for a few seconds before he let out a small, amused breath.
“Was that your way of apologizing for making me sit here and watch you run around like an idiot?”
Ricky grinned. “Maybe.”
Taerae hummed, as if considering it. Then, he leaned in again, pressing another quick, lazy kiss to Ricky’s lips. This time, he let his fingers brush against Ricky’s arm, careful and light, as if reluctant to make too much contact with the sweat but still unwilling to pull away completely.
“I’ll allow it,” he murmured.
Ricky just laughed, letting his head fall against Taerae’s shoulder, thinking—yeah, this? This was exactly how it was supposed to be. He felt warm, not just from the exercise but from the simple, quiet comfort of Taerae being there. Watching, teasing, staying close without needing to do anything more.
And as much as Taerae pretended to be indifferent, Ricky knew that if he asked him to come again tomorrow, Taerae would show up. He’d sit there, sigh dramatically, complain about how ridiculous Ricky was for playing in the heat—but he’d be there.
. And that was enough.