Chapter Text
When Fuma broke up with Euijoo, he was really nice about it.
He spoke in that soft voice he does when he’s talking to children— the one that lulls everyone into a sense of security— and cut the strings between them with one clean slice. No room for misinterpretation or what ifs. Fuma is good at certainties. He’s always sure of what he wants, and knows how to ask for it. Euijoo was simply not what he wanted anymore.
Euijoo took it well. He didn’t cry, or fight. He gathered the few things of Fuma’s that were at his apartment, and put them in a box outside the door for Fuma to come pick up. He went to work like normal, and filled his evenings with more shitty TV than he had time for when he was in a relationship. He showed up at his sister’s door when he felt any pull of loneliness in his chest, and even though she always looked at him skeptically, she never said anything about it. Euijoo was fine. Sometimes, relationships don’t work out. That’s just how it is.
He and Fuma stayed friends. They’re friendly. They share a friend group, so it would be hard not to be. They both agreed that they didn’t want the breakup to ruin their lives.
And, really, Euijoo is well aware that he’s been bad about it for the last eight months or so. Pulling away as winter closed in. Getting lost in work. Sleeping less. Too exhausted to go out. Ignoring texts from his friends. Flaking on group invites. It has nothing to do with Fuma, though, Euijoo just… isn’t doing well as a general life thing.
He wasn’t aware of just how much he’d missed, though. He has to check the date to make sure he’s not lost track of a larger chunk of time. But, no, it’s still January. Thirteen months after Fuma sat Euijoo down on the couch and told him that they weren’t going to be anything anymore.
The envelope is big. A rectangle larger than Euijoo’s hand, satiny paper soft to the touch. It’s weighty, too. Clearly some expensive stationary, though Euijoo doesn’t know much about those kinds of things.
Euijoo’s name is embossed on the front in gold print. On the back, a wax seal is pressed over the flap. The return address in the corner simply says Y + F atop a street name and number on the other side of the city that Euijoo can’t place anywhere.
He peels the wax off with his thumb nail, flicking the envelope open and tossing it onto the kitchen table with the rest of his junk mail. The contents are just as fancy as the envelope itself. Thick cardstock and handwritten calligraphy with sharp ink. Taunting him.
The honor of your company is requested at the marriage of Koga Yudai and Murata Fuma.
Euijoo stops reading. He stops breathing, dropping the invitation onto the table, expensive paper hitting the surface with a sick thwack. He coughs, half choking on his own tongue, and drops into a chair before his legs give out.
He stares so intensely at the invitation he’s afraid his eyes will burn holes through it and he’ll have no proof that it’s real. He blinks. Swallows. Pulls his phone out with one, shaking hand, and dials his sister.
Chaewon answers on the second ring. “What, Euijoo? I’m on a date.”
“Can you come over?”
“What?” she asks again, voice high and sharp.
“Remember when you said I’d feel the breakup eventually?” Euijoo releases a pathetic, watery laugh. “I’m feeling it, Wonnie.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Chaewon mutters. She sighs. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Two hours later, Euijoo is well on his way to dehydrated— entirely out of tears— his head pillowed in his sister’s lap on the couch while her scary girlfriend looks on with disinterest. It’s not that Hyeju is actually disinterested— Chaewon swears she’s not— she just looks like that.
Euijoo didn’t cry until after they showed up. He held it in until Chaewon burst through the front door, and then it all bubbled over. She looked at him in that knowing, older sister way, and he dissolved into a weepy, babbling fool immediately. It didn’t stop until his tongue ran dry and his head hurt.
“Lemme see it again,” Chaewon pouts, pinching her hand in Hyeju’s direction. “Juju, get me the invitation.”
“I’m not getting up,” Euijoo complains.
“I’m not talking to you, you idiot.”
Euijoo scowls. “Why would you call your girlfriend the same thing you call me?”
Chaewon ignores him, reaching for the invitation as Hyeju carries it back from the table. The ink is a little smudged by tears. And maybe some snot. Thank god the RSVP is online.
“Mm,” Chaewon hums, frowning. Her eyes focus in and out, like she’s not actually reading. “I really just can’t believe it. He was always so nice.”
“Yeah. That’s why he has a new boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” Hyeju corrects.
Chaewon very sloppily puts her hands over Euijoo’s ears, blocking out no sound at all. “Not helpful,” she scolds.
“He must think you’re nice, too, though,” Hyeju sighs. She taps one long fingernail against the invitation. “He gave you a plus one.”
“What?” Chaewon and Euijoo’s voices ring out in tandem, Euijoo sounding much more horrified than his sister.
“Yeah. Byun Euijoo and Guest,” Hyeju reads. “Says it right here.”
“Let me see that,” Euijoo mutters. He sits up, head spinning enough that he has to take a breather before he steals the invitation from Hyeju. He blinks a few times until his vision straightens out. Sure enough, at the very bottom of the invitation— Byun Euijoo and Guest. “What the fuck?”
“That’s good, right!?” Chaewon tries to look cheerful, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, so she ends up looking like she’s been punched in the stomach.
“What the fuck?” Euijoo repeats. He lets out a nervous laugh, flipping the invitation over in his hands a couple of times. The words don’t change. “Does he expect me to be dating someone already? It’s only been a year! I was in love with him! He expects me to just— find someone I trust enough— hell— someone I like enough to jet off to some fancy island with in that time?”
“Well…” Hyeju snorts.
Euijoo glares at her. “What?”
“He’s literally getting married, so…”
“Not helpful!” Chaewon interjects, plucking the invitation out of Euijoo’s grasp again.
“Oh my god,” Euijoo moans, covering his face with his hands. He drops back into Chaewon’s lap, twisting his body onto its side so he can curl up into the fetal position. “I’m going to die.”
Chaewon coos above him, fingers combing through his hair. “No you’re not. You just need to find yourself a date! This is a great opportunity. A destination wedding at an all inclusive resort— it’s super enticing.”
“I don’t know,” Euijoo mumbles. His stomach turns. “The wedding is only a couple of months away… I don’t even know if I’m going to go…”
“Euijoo—” Chaewon takes his wrists, wrenching his hands away from his face. She hovers over him like a specter, ginger bob hanging ominously around her face. She claps her hands against his cheeks, squeezing them together, a startling reminder that she had a couple drinks before she came over. “We both know your giant head and massive pride complex aren’t going to let you skip your ex-boyfriends wedding.”
“I—” Euijoo goes to protest. Chaewon cuts him off with a sharp look. He frowns. “Okay. You’re right.”
“So, your options are to go alone, drink your way through it, and sulk the entire time, looking like a baby—” she pauses for emphasis. “Or, to show up with someone hot and new, drink your way through it, and try to have as much fun as you can. You could treat it like a first date.”
“Are those really my only options?”
“Yes.”
“I could always die,” Euijoo suggests meekly.
༝༚
From Nakakita Yuma
did you buy plane tickets for fuma’s wedding yet?
wait are you coming?
hahahahaha who am i kidding ofc you are
guilt complex!!!!
anyway
let’s take the same flight
i need you to drive me to the airport
Yuma’s text comes in while Euijoo is halfway to plastered. Sitting alone in his apartment, because his plans with Chaewon fell through, and he has no other friends that he doesn’t share with Fuma. And he’s been avoiding Fuma. That’s something he can admit when he’s three drinks in.
The thing is, Euijoo spent a lot of time meticulously sweeping up every spilled fragment of mess after the fallout from Fuma’s wedding invitation. When Chaewon and Hyeju left that night, he sat, and stared at the wall, and took deep breaths until everything was safely tucked away in his chest again. He stuck the invitation to the side of his fridge, where he knew he wouldn’t see it, and tried not to think about it. Sure, there was an ominous, looming shadow over his shoulder, slowly closing in. A decision needs to be made.
Euijoo snatches the invitation off the fridge on his way to get another drink. He sets it on the kitchen island, tapping his fingers on the countertop. The ink is smudged, page a little warped from his tears. His lip curls, unscrewing the cap to the bottle of whiskey he keeps for emergencies.
He pounds down two shots. Then a third. His eyes feel gummy already. He’s right at the precipice of prime decision making territory. He can feel it.
What were his options again? Go alone and drink his way through it, or find someone to go with, and drink his way through it?
Well. There’s clearly a stand-out option there. Euijoo just doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to find anyone on such short notice. He’s running out of time. Only a month before the wedding.
“Fuck,” he mutters. His hands shake when he pours a fourth shot, a bit of whiskey splashing onto the corner of the invitation.
He opens Instagram.
༝༚
Search History
nciolas wang taiwan - 3:42 am
nicholas wang - 3:42 am
nicholas wang xiy - 3:43 am
nic - 3:43 am
wang yixiang - 3:46 am
how to find someone online - 3:47 am
instagram wang yixiang taiwan - 3:52 am
wang yixiang taiwan class of 2020 - 4:03 am
Messages with @Park_Sungho
How are you?
I have a proposition. No pressure.
Yor so beautiful , bythe way.
Please respond!
Messages with @jacksonwang852g7
I have been in love with you fr a very. long time
Seriously
And thats why i need your help
if you’re available
[seen at 5:27 am]
Messages with @w_y_x
Hi! I don’t know if you remember me. Byun Euijoo. We went to middle school together.
You kissed me once, and then moved away. Which I forgive you for, by theway.
hahahahahahah
hey, juju wassup
WOW! Yr here!
I needhelp,
how drunk are you rn?
None.
It’s just that I need a favor.
alright
hit me
How would you like an all expenses paid trip to a tropical island?
All inclusive resort! Booze! Swimming!
?????
I need plus one to a wedding.
it’s VERY IMPORTANT or I wouldn’t ask. Swear!
I’ll pay for everything. Even your flight.
why me???
It’s a long story.
you have always been so strange.
alright, i’m down. send the details.
4:53 AM
RSVP COMPLETE
You have successfully RSVPed for Murata Fuma and Koga Yudai’s event! The countdown starts now! Details of your RSVP are as follows:
Byun Euijoo and Wang Yixiang - Ceremony, Reception, Resort Stay - YES
5:29 AM
BOOKING CONFIRMATION
Hello, BYUN EUIJOO:
Your airline booking is confirmed, reservation details…
To Nakakita Yuma
I can’t drive you to the airport, I'm driving my boyfriend.
Get your own flight.
From Nakakita Yuma
🖕
༝༚
Euijoo wakes up and immediately vomits into the trash can next to his bed.
It’s two in the afternoon. He didn’t manage to properly plug his phone in last night, so his battery is almost drained, hanging on with a sad seven percent.
He drags himself out of bed, hand held to his head. On his way to the bathroom he only runs into one doorframe and one wall, eyes still squinted from sleep. He pitches himself over the sink, rinsing his mouth out before furiously brushing his teeth. The light above the mirror emphasizes the dark circles under his eyes. The complete mess of his hair. Fuck. He hasn’t gotten that drunk since college. He’s too old for drinking like that. He makes too many bad decisions when he’s drunk.
His memory of last night is hazy. There’s no second character to guide his re-creation— just the faint melody of the shopping channel jingle and his nearly dead cellphone.
He stares himself in the eye, trying to jog his memories. He remembers opening Instagram. Scrolling through his followers, trying to decide on someone to take as a date to the wedding. Then he felt stupid for scrolling through his Instagram followers for a date, so he reopened a dating app that he hasn’t touched in months. He gave up on that after no one was matching him fast enough— and then he had a miniature breakdown about the state of his life (love and otherwise).
There was a bit of time where he paced around. He thought about getting a cat, for a second, he remembers that. He remembers taking another shot. And then…
A cold, trickling feeling of dread runs down Euijoo’s spine. He scrambles out of the bathroom, falling to his knees next to his bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. He left about twenty apps open. Fuck. He starts from the beginning. Scrolling through an incriminating string of searches and two open WhitePages tabs.
“Oh, no,” Euijoo blurts, unable to stop himself. He curls in on himself in fear. He shuts his eyes, taking three deep breaths before assessing the rest of the damage. Alright. It’s fine. The chance that he actually managed to find Nicholas Wang while he was completely blasted have to be slim to none. Nicholas Wang is a common name, he’s sure. He hasn’t seen the man for over ten years. He probably wouldn’t even recognize him if he did find him.
Euijoo releases an unsteady breath, swiping over to Instagram.
His DMs are already open. There’s a few messages sent to celebrities. Clearly a backup in case the Nicholas thing didn’t work out.
This is why he shouldn’t be allowed near whiskey.
There, at the bottom of the screen, are his messages with an account that appears to belong to Nicholas Wang. The Nicholas Wang. A full conversation. Back and forth. Details exchanged, and plans made in a completely nonchalant way for four thirty in the morning.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Euijoo drops his phone onto the floor, holding his head in his hands. This cannot be happening to him. This cannot be real. He squeezes his eyes shut, begging himself to wake up, but all he gets is another sharp pain in his skull, and the stale smell of vomit wafting off his trash can.
Chaewon would call this a Byun Euijoo all-timer. One of those moments where he manages to fuck something up so severely that it becomes almost comical. Like he’s a cartoon of a real man, attempting to go about his day and stepping in all sorts of outlandish traps. Like the time he slipped on a banana peel and hit his head on the ground so hard he got a concussion. Or, the time he yelled “Fire!” in a crowded theatre, because he was playing a word association game with Hyeju and he got a little too excited.
Drunk DMing his childhood crush to ask him to be his fake-boyfriend at his ex-boyfriend’s wedding has to be up there on the Byun Euijoo all-timer ranking.
Of all the people drunk-Euijoo could have chosen. Of all the people, male and female, that are in Euijoo’s network. People he went to college with, or people he knows from work, or, hell, even friends from high school would have done fine! But, no, that would be too easy.
Drunk-Euijoo chose Nicholas Wang.
Nicholas Wang is not for real life. He’s an illusion. A carefully constructed daydream that Euijoo has been piecing together over the past eleven years. An unattainable fantasy of a man based in fragmented memories from Euijoo’s lovesick, fourteen year old brain. There’s almost no reality to it. A guilty pleasure, almost. For the dark, quiet moments where his mind is completely, blissfully blank, and he can spin up stories of things that will never happen. A person that will never be real.
Euijoo knows that it’s probably unhealthy to have an emotional support daydream man, but if that’s the most unhealthy vice he partakes in on a weekly basis, he feels like he’s doing pretty well. He doesn’t smoke! (Fuma smokes when he thinks no one is looking.) It’s just that Nicholas happened to him at such an emotionally volatile portion of his life. He crashed in, and stuck to Euijoo like a burr, and he left, just like that. He burned bright, and fast, and then he was gone, leaving no trace but a ghost against Euijoo’s lips and the phantom sensation of a hand in his.
There’s no chance that the Nicholas Euijoo dreamed up will ever manifest into reality. In reality, Nicholas is just a man, with a life, and better things to do than spend multiple days on a stranger’s wedding getaway.
Euijoo takes a deep breath. He resists the urge to pick up his phone and call his sister. He already knows what Chaewon will tell him, anyway. She’ll laugh at him, and then say he should just wait and see, because there’s no way anyone sane would show up at the airport with a practical stranger on a whim.
That sounds reasonable enough to Euijoo.
When he shows up to the airport in a few weeks, Nicholas will either be there, or he won’t. If he isn’t— and he most likely won’t be, if he’s sane— Euijoo will come up with a sorry excuse to tell his friends about how his boyfriend got sick right before it was time to leave, and he couldn’t make it. Everyone will look at him pitifully, and he’ll probably look like he made a boyfriend up, but at that point, it’s what he deserves. He did make a boyfriend up.
Maybe he shouldn’t go to Fuma’s wedding at all.
He curls up on his floor, fighting off another wave of nausea. He can’t tell if it’s the liquor or the guilt.
He’s definitely going to Fuma’s wedding, he thinks. He already took PTO. He’s been saving that up for years. And what if Nicholas does show up, and Euijoo doesn’t? Embarrassing.
Euijoo picks up his phone to message Nicholas and tell him he changed his mind, but it’s already dead. By the time he turns it back on, the guilt will have eaten away at him enough that deleting the Instagram app entirely seems like the best option. Leaving it up to fate.
He’ll show up at the airport in a few weeks. No Instagram app on his phone, suitcase packed. Nicholas will be there, or he (most likely) won’t. And that will be that.
༝༚
Euijoo turns his car around twice on the way to the airport.
Once right as he turns out of his neighborhood, and once right after he takes the exit for the airport off the highway. Both times, he becomes so consumed with guilt that he turns back around right away. His suitcase is in the trunk. Packed. He has plane tickets. Two. He has a room reserved in Fuma’s wedding-specified hotel block. Courtesy of the grooms. This isn’t something he can flake on and swallow the guilt of in a night or two. It’s a serious thing.
Fuma was Euijoo’s friend before they were together. Euijoo loves Fuma, even if they didn’t work out— and he wants to be the kind of person to show up for his friend’s wedding, even if it also makes him want to peel his skin off. In a few years, when he’s normal again, Euijoo will regret it if he doesn’t go. He’s a nuanced and complex individual.
That’s what he tells himself, anyway, as he walks towards the departures terminal from the parking garage. That’s what he tells himself when he turns around to go back to his car, and then immediately turns back around again. Because he can’t bail on this now— it’s a waste of money. A waste of PTO.
Euijoo steadies himself with a deep breath, managing to get through the sliding doors into the terminal. If he turns around now, it’ll look suspicious. Like he has a bomb or something. But— maybe he shouldn’t be doing this. He’d much rather spend the week at home, in bed. Use the PTO he’s taken for something worthwhile, like eating takeout in bed. That doesn’t seem like too much of a waste. He turns on his heel, head down, back towards the car.
“Are you running away already, Byun?” a sweet, clear voice rings out across the terminal.
Euijoo stops mid-step, squeezing his eyes shut. He can hear shoes clicking across tile. Feel the presence of someone else closing in on him. “Uh,” he says intelligently, not brave enough to look quite yet. “Trying to?”
A sharp, delighted laugh pierces Euijoo right between the ribs. Nicholas’s laugh is exactly the same as it was a decade ago. The sound catches Euijoo so off guard that he turns automatically, back straightening and cheeks heating. He immediately crumbles in on himself when he gets an eyeful of Nicholas Wang, accompanied by a helpless wheeze as he deflates.
Nicholas has always been pretty. From what Euijoo can remember, anyway. He’s spent much of the last eleven years concocting new ways to imagine Nicholas. How he might look now. And, sure, Nicholas posts photos of himself on Instagram, but Euijoo has staunchly refused to check since the night he reached out, because he didn’t think it would be good for his health if he knew, for sure, that Nicholas was real. (And because he deleted the Instagram app, obviously.)
But, here Nicholas is.
Everything Euijoo imagined— and more— somehow. His mouth curls up into a mischievous grin. All sharp eyes and hair long at the nape of his neck. He has mascara smudged under his eyes, like he slept in his makeup and didn’t bother to clean it off. It makes him look more mysterious, even though on most people it would look messy. Hip cocked, one ring-laden hand curled around the handle of his suitcase, nails painted black. He has nice hands. That was always part of Euijoo’s delusional daydreams, too.
“You didn’t think I’d show,” Nicholas says, playful lilt to his voice.
Euijoo forces his eyes up from Nicholas’s stupidly big hands to his face. He shakes his head, eyes stinging for no good reason. “I mean— no— it’s not that— I mean— it is that, but I also was just going to leave.”
That earns another bright laugh. “Leave? We just got here.”
“Yeah. This is a bad idea. It’s my ex-boyfriend’s wedding— did I mention that? That we’re going to my ex-boyfriend’s wedding?” Euijoo winces as soon as the words leave his lips. He couldn’t sound more pathetic if he tried.
Nicholas cocks his head. “No. But, now you have to tell me why you invited me here instead of running away from me.”
Euijoo glances over his shoulder at the door wistfully. He swallows. Fuck. There’s no way he’s not getting on this airplane. He’s complex, and nuanced, and he’s going to go to Fuma’s wedding, because that’s the type of person he is. He sighs, fight leaving his body. When he turns back to Nicholas, Nicholas is waiting patiently, eyes shining with amusement. Euijoo is going to be sick.
“I don’t think you should be looking so… giddy,” Euijoo says blandly, tongue feeling too big in his mouth. “I don’t know if you’ll want to do this once you realize what I really need.”
“Right,” Nicholas says casually, cocking an eyebrow at Euijoo. He shakes his hoodie sleeve up his arm to reveal a watch, eyes dropping down to read it. “And we have… three and a half hours until the plane takes off. So, I have plenty of time to back out if I want to.”
“What if I want to back out?” Euijoo frowns. He gets defensive when he feels challenged. Nicholas always had a tendency to challenge him when they were kids. Blatantly and fearlessly.
“Do you?” Nicholas asks.
Euijoo wilts. “No.”
“Alright. Let’s go, then,” Nicholas nods towards the security check point. “The line is moving fast right now.” There’s nothing Euijoo can do to effectively argue when Nicholas turns and starts walking. He stays put up until Nicholas turns around and looks at him pointedly. Says, “Are you coming, Juju?”
What choice does Euijoo have? He nods silently, grabbing his things and hurrying to catch up.
They don’t talk as they wait in line, and shuffle through security. Euijoo tries not to stare. He catches glances of Nicholas out of the corner of his eye, but refuses to look at him head on. He doesn’t want to be weird. He’s sure this is going to get a lot weirder if Nicholas sticks around.
Nicholas shoots him a cheeky wink as he slides his rings off into the plastic bin at security. He sheds his jacket and kicks off his shoes. The agent behind the conveyer belt has to clap at Euijoo to snap him out of it and get him moving. Euijoo bows his apology, hurrying to toe off his shoes and stick them in a bin.
Euijoo is thoroughly flustered after he shuffles through the metal detectors. He grabs his things, trying to put his shoes on as he walks and almost eating shit in the process. Nicholas grabs him by the back of his sweatshirt to keep him upright, smiling a little too knowingly when Euijoo mutters out thanks.
He pulls Euijoo’s backpack off the floor and directs him to a bench where they can sit down for a second. Euijoo can feel himself pouting, but he focuses on his shoes, shoving his feet back in and tying the laces haphazardly.
“All good?” Nicholas asks.
“Yeah,” Euijoo grumbles. He shoves his backpack over his shoulder, and grabs his suitcase.
Nicholas hangs back and lets Euijoo navigate them to their gate. He sticks close, ignoring Euijoo’s frustrated mumbling to himself when he takes them the wrong direction.
Even when they were kids, Nicholas was irritatingly laid back. He used to skip class often. He’d tempt Euijoo to come with him, wiggling his eyebrows as he hung out of the second story bathroom window. Euijoo only went with him once. He ruined the vibe by worrying about it the entire time. Nicholas still asked him to come every time afterwards, though. It made Euijoo feel special.
They drop into seats in the very corner of the gate, right by the window overlooking the tarmac. There’s nowhere for anyone to sneak up on them there, Euijoo figures. He doesn’t know who he’s worried about, but he likes to be safe rather than sorry. Whenever he sits with his back exposed, he feels strangely vulnerable.
The only other people at the gate so far are an old woman that just looks nosy, and a teenager with his headphones way too loud. Nicholas snickers, unzipping his backpack and pulling out a protein bar. He rips into the wrapper, leaning back, to get comfortable, a distinct contrast to Euijoo’s stick straight posture, foot tapping restlessly on the floor.
“Alright,” Nicholas drawls, jutting his elbow into Euijoo’s arm. “Lay it on me, Byun.”
“Right. Um. Okay—” Euijoo clears his throat. He slides back in his seat, getting a little bit closer to mimicking Nicholas’s position, but maintaining his natural stiffness. He glances at Nicholas— Nicholas raises his eyebrows, looking up at Euijoo expectantly, taking another bite of his protein bar. “I don’t know where to start,” Euijoo says lamely.
“So, your ex-boyfriend is getting married…” Nicholas leads. He sounds like a self-help video.
Euijoo grimaces. “Yeah. My ex-boyfriend is getting married, and—”
“Which one is he?”
“Huh?”
“You sent me their wedding website. I was poking around. Is he the tall, pretty one, or the taller, prettier one?”
Euijoo blinks. He hasn’t even looked at the wedding website himself. He didn’t think it necessary. Besides RSVPing, obviously. He purposefully averted his eyes while clicking through— because he was drunk, and it felt reasonable at the time.
“He’s Fuma,” Euijoo says idiotically.
Nicholas nods like he understands. He shakes his protein bar in Euijoo’s direction. “The tall, pretty one. Got it.”
“Anyway,” Euijoo presses. He doesn’t want to think about Fuma’s fiancé being taller and prettier than Fuma— Euijoo can’t even conceptualize that right now. “We broke up the December before last.”
“Not even a year and a half ago?”
“Yeah.”
Nicholas exhales softly. “Damn. Sucks.”
“Right!” Euijoo angles his body towards Nicholas a bit more. “That’s what I thought when I got the invitation! I was angry, and I didn’t know what to do, and he gave me a plus one— which— I don’t know why he’d think I was able to find someone new in that time— but it felt targeted.”
“I mean, a year is a long time,” Nicholas says casually. Unbothered by the implication, apparently.
Euijoo turns his legs to face forward. “I loved him,” he snaps.
“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that—” Nicholas’s protein bar switches hands, reaching out to pat Euijoo’s shoulder awkwardly. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”
“It’s not that I’m not ready— I just—” Euijoo cuts himself off. “I don’t think we need to talk about that right now. Or at all. That’s not the point, here.”
Nicholas laughs. “Okay. What’s the point, Juju?”
“So,” Euijoo continues, letting out a long breath, relaxing minutely. “When I got the invitation, I kind of freaked out, and my sister told me that I could either go alone, and drink the whole time, or find someone to take with me—”
“Why wouldn’t you just not go if it bothered you that much?”
Euijoo shoots him a dirty look. Nicholas holds up his hands in defense.
“Because, I’m not the type of person to skip something like this. We agreed to be friends when we broke up.”
Nicholas snorts. “Have you been? Friends?”
“I mean. Yeah,” Euijoo lies. His voice comes out unsteady,
“You’ve been avoiding him,” Nicholas provides.
“I don’t know if avoiding is the right word—”
“It’s definitely not the wrong word, from what I can tell—”
“Well, you don’t know anything!” Euijoo blurts, bubbling over with embarrassment. Nicholas is good at riling him up. Drawing things out of him until Euijoo gets overwhelmed, and annoyed, and raw. “You just showed up,” Euijoo finishes lamely. He ignores the tug of a smirk on Nicholas’s lips.
“You’re right. Sorry.” Nicholas cedes, letting out a long sigh. “So, you needed someone to pretend to be your boyfriend. To prove that you’re okay.”
“I am okay,” Euijoo says.
“I never said you’re not.”
“It’s just that they won’t believe me if I say it, and I don’t have anything to back it up.” Euijoo looks down at his hands in his lap. He starts picking at a hangnail on his thumb. “It sounds really stupid when I say it. I was really drunk when I messaged you.”
“Yeah.” Nicholas nods. “So, why did you message me, of all people? You didn’t have anyone else better suited to pretend to be your boyfriend? We haven’t talked in, like, fifteen years.”
“Eleven,” Euijoo corrects. He sniffs, ignoring the creep of heat flooding his cheeks when he sees Nicholas grin out of the corner of his eye. “All of my friends are also friends with Fuma. And, it’s not like I just messaged you. I messaged a bunch of people. You were just the first to respond.”
Nicholas shifts, sitting up straighter, interested. “Oh really? Who?”
“No one you’d know…” Euijoo mumbles.
“Let me see.”
“No.”
“You gotta let me see, Juju. I need to know who my competition was.”
“You do not—”
“I’ll leave right now if you don’t let me see. Seriously.”
Euijoo scowls. “No you won’t.”
“I will.” Nicholas starts standing up like he’s actually going to leave.
Euijoo panics. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and clicking the little cloud button to redownload Instagram. “Wait. Here. I deleted the app, so it’ll take a second.”
“You deleted the app?” Nicholas smirks, sitting back down.
“I was in a bad place,” Euijoo mumbles. He taps his foot as the loading bar finishes circling. The app opens up, still logged in. How helpful. He clicks to his DMs. He hasn’t messaged anyone since that night. He hasn’t received any messages since that night. Which is fine. He’s not really into social media like that. He turns the screen to Nicholas quickly— only a flash. “See?”
Nicholas beams, snatching the phone straight out of Euijoo’s hand before Euijoo can stop him. Euijoo makes a sad little noise, failing to wrestle it back before Nicholas holds it out of his reach.
“Jackson Wang?” Nicholas laughs. He gawks as he scrolls, turning to Euijoo with glee. “Park Sungho?”
“I know them,” Euijoo lies.
“Oh, do you? Are you typically invited to industry parties, Juju? Do you frequent? Do they have good coke?” Nicholas teases.
Euijoo lifts himself up to grab his phone back, frown etched into his face. “I was drunk.”
Nicholas laughs, bubbly and pretty. “It’s okay, Euijoo. I’m just messing around. I’m flattered that you thought of me while plastered and sad.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Euijoo mumbles, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “You should just go. It’s fine.”
“Woah, no.” Nicholas shakes his head, waving his hands around. “I never said I didn’t want to do it.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to,” Euijoo says snippily.
Nicholas doesn’t take it to heart. He brushes it off, leaning closer to Euijoo. “What were you going to do if I didn’t show up?”
Euijoo hugs his arms across his stomach, squeezing himself tightly. “Go alone. Tell my friends my boyfriend got sick. Ignore their pitying glances. Drink too much. Come home and forget it happened.”
“Ah.” Nicholas nods like he’s pondering something. “But, you don’t want to do that, do you, Juju?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I do.” Euijoo’s heart rattles against his ribs, a sick feeling of dread filling out his stomach. He can’t tell if it’s from the prospect of Nicholas sticking around, or leaving. Hard to say. Both options seem bad.
“Wouldn’t it be so much more fun to bring me with, act super happy and in love, maybe make Fuma a little jealous? Prove that you’re doing just as well as him— maybe even better. All inclusive resorts are a lot more fun when you’re not moping all alone.”
Euijoo huffs a laugh. “You just want the free vacation.”
“The vacation that’s already paid for.” Nicholas bumps their shoulders together. “Come on, Juju. It’ll be fun. Obviously, somewhere in that big, beautiful brain of yours, you wanted us to reconnect. This is the perfect opportunity. It feels like fate, doesn’t it?”
“Fate, or a string of bad decision making?” Euijoo grumbles.
“Aren’t they one in the same?” Nicholas whispers, much too close to Euijoo’s face.
Euijoo reaches over to push him back into his own space. “No. Definitely not.”
“Come on, Euijoo. It’ll be fun. I’ll even wingman for you. Maybe you can get your groove back. Meet someone at the resort! I’ll help you get laid!” Nicholas goads, poking Euijoo’s bicep.
“I don’t need to get laid, I just need everyone to believe I don’t need to get laid!” Euijoo swats his hand away. “And why are you trying to convince me, now? I’m the one that invited you here.”
“I don’t want to date someone that’s getting cold feet about me.” Nicholas puts on a dramatic pout, bottom lip sticking out.
Euijoo rolls his eyes. “Quit it.”
“Juju… Can’t you feel it?” Nicholas says softly. “We’ve always had a spark. We were meant to be friends. Let's be friends again. Let’s prove to everyone you’re okay.”
Suddenly, Euijoo feels a little dizzy. This is a really, really bad idea. Euijoo is out of his depth. He made an impulsive decision. A stupid, irrational, idiotic decision. A decision he really can’t say he regrets, actually, given his options. Euijoo has always struggled with pride. His therapist would say that the only way to get over it is to face it head on. Exposure therapy. Euijoo just doesn’t think Fuma’s wedding is the place to do that. Not when Nicholas is right here, and he’s real— a walking iteration of all of Euijoo’s daydreams from the past eleven years— and he’s offering exactly what Euijoo asked for. They have always had a spark. Being with Nicholas always felt electric. Like climbing out the second story bathroom window to cut class. Thrilling. Euijoo has spent so long not feeling anything at all. He wants to feel something.
“Alright,” he says eventually. “But only because it was my idea, and I don’t want you to have to pay for a cab home, too. I’d feel too guilty.”
Nicholas whoops, throwing his hands into the air. He slings one arm around Euijoo’s shoulder on his way down, hauling him in. “I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had. Promise.”
“You’ll be the only one I’ve ever had.”
“See, I’m already winning. I love this song,” Nicholas hums happily.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“We should figure out ground rules. And I need to know about your friends.” Nicholas ignores Euijoo, unhanding him to start ticking off his fingers. “And we need a story. And you need to stop acting like you’ve been tased every time I touch you.”
“I’m not acting tased,” Euijoo huffs.
Nicholas lays a hand on his thigh. Euijoo tenses up on instinct, jaw clenching.
“Tased,” Nicholas confirms. He unhinges his jaw to stick the rest of his protein bar into his mouth, depositing the wrapper on the seat next to him and unzipping his backpack to produce a pocket-sized notebook. “Let's get to work, Juju. I take acting very seriously.”
Euijoo rolls his eyes, and scowls, but plays along anyways. Nicholas is doing him a favor, after all.
- Everything is on the table as long as it’s convincing. Euijoo will work on not acting like he’s been tased. Nicholas will work on acting how a real boyfriend would.
- Relax. It’s vacation. (This is an Euijoo specific rule.)
- Under no circumstances shall Nicholas allow Euijoo to be left alone with Fuma.
- Under no circumstances shall Euijoo allow Nicholas to be left alone with Yuma. (For his own good.)
Nicholas will help Euijoo get laid. He needs it.Euijoo is fine.- Euijoo and Nicholas reconnected after running into each other on the street.
NicholasEuijooNicholas asked Euijoo out. That was six months ago. They havecrazynormal sex.
“Seriously, why does that have to be part of the story?” Euijoo whines, handing Nicholas back the pen after making his final edit. He was willing to cede on the who asked who out thing, but the crazy sex thing is too much.
“I just think we need to know every aspect of our background if we’re going to sell this.” Nicholas’s tongue pokes out when he adds a tiny note next to number six, Euijoo likes missionary.
Euijoo opens his mouth to argue, but he realizes there’s nothing to argue about. He does, in fact, like missionary. “Whatever. Is that fine, now?”
“I think we’re in good shape.” Nicholas nods. He flips his notebook closed and stashes it back in his bag. When he sits back up, he stretches his arms above his head, letting one drape over Euijoo’s shoulders on his way down. It’s irritatingly smooth. Euijoo swallows back a squeak. “So, what have you been up to for the last fifteen years, Juju? Your Instagram was pretty empty.”
“Eleven,” Euijoo corrects under his breath. “I don’t know. The normal stuff. School. Work. Keeping myself alive.”
“Incredibly insightful,” Nicholas hums, raising his eyebrows condescendingly.
“Shut up. Fine, what do you want to know?”
Nicholas grins. He angles his body towards Euijoo like he’s desperately interested, arm still slung behind Euijoo’s shoulders. “The highlights. We have time to get to the rest.”
Euijoo shifts slightly, trying to avoid skin to skin contact. He’s not there yet. He clears his throat, cheeks hot. “Okay. Um. I went to school in the city. Majored in Business Admin and Accounting. Got a job right out of school at a nice firm. I’ve been there since. It’s fine.”
“An accountant?” Nicholas cocks his head a few degrees, eyes catching the light in the exact right way to make them look sparkly.
“Yeah. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills.”
“You’ve always been smart, I’m not surprised.”
“It’s not rocket science, I just know how to use Excel,” Euijoo mumbles. He’s never known how to handle compliments.
Nicholas brushes past the awkwardness easily. Pays it no mind. “How’d you meet Fuma, then?”
Euijoo pulls his shoulders up and rolls his neck, trying to relieve himself of the uncomfortable feeling rolling down his spine. He laughs awkwardly when he realizes Nicholas is watching him carefully. “Just mutual friends. We both showed up to someone’s birthday party, and ended up talking all night instead of doing anything else. And he took me home with him at the end of it. It was kind of natural…” Euijoo exhales, ignoring the sting behind his eyes. “But, he got tired of me eventually. Obviously.”
“Hm.” Nicholas nods slowly. He narrows his eyes, looking at Euijoo like he’s trying to figure him out.
“What?” Euijoo asks, licking over his bottom lip. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. No one has paid this close of attention to him in what feels like months. Years, maybe.
Nicholas frowns cutely. “Are you always so self-depricating?”
“What?!” Euijoo blurts, eyes widening.
Nicholas only shrugs in return. His fingertips dance over Euijoo’s shoulder, just barely touching him through his shirt. “You talk about yourself like you don’t like yourself.”
“I like myself fine! I’m fine,” Euijoo says, convincingly as he can. Nicholas tips his chin down, giving Euijoo an unimpressed look. Euijoo barks out a tight laugh. “I’m serious!”
“Okay!” Nicholas sighs. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Whatever that means,” Euijoo laughs again, nerves bubbling in his stomach.
“Sorry, I threw off your flow. Did you have anything else to tell me?” Nicholas’s fingers find Euijoo’s shoulder again, more solid this time. He starts drawing small circles with his thumb against the curve. Maddeningly casual.
“I don’t know…” Euijoo shakes his head to refocus. “I live south of the river? A bit west of the business district. If that comes up at all.”
Nicholas visibly brightens, cheeks curving up into his eyes. “Oh, no way. I live near there! We totally could have run into each other on the street.”
“I don’t know,” Euijoo snorts. “Would you have recognized me?”
“Of course I would have. You have a hard face to forget.” Nicholas doesn’t miss a beat. His thumb keeps running in circles against Euijoo’s shirt.
“Okay,” Euijoo breathes quietly.
Nicholas doesn’t ask if Euijoo would remember him. Euijoo figures they both know the answer is yes. Obviously. Nicholas is Nicholas, and no one else looks like him.
“Do you have any pets?” Nicholas asks. Euijoo swears he’s drifting closer bit by bit. Until their separate space becomes shared.
“No. I keep thinking about it, and then chickening out.” Euijoo figures that if he stiffens, Nicholas will know. They’re close enough for that. He’s supposed to get used to Nicholas touching him. Exposure therapy. “I’d like a cat.”
“A cat would suit you.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No I’m not. Everyone says I’m kind of like a cat. I suit you, don’t I?”
Euijoo snorts, eyeing Nicholas skeptically. “I don’t know. You haven’t told me anything about yourself, we’re just talking about me,” he challenges.
“Ahh,” Nicholas’s smile widens. “Well played. Okay, where did we leave off… ten years ago…”
“Eleven.”
Nicholas’s tongue rolls against the inside of his cheek. Euijoo follows the movement for a second before realizing how close they are. He goes back to picking at his cuticle.
“I finished high school in Taiwan,” Nicholas sighs. “Came back here for university. Majored in Biology. Got a job afterwards at a shitty little pharma startup. I’m not doing that anymore, though…” he trails off, wincing.
“What are you doing, then?”
Nicholas laughs awkwardly, his legs coming to rest for a second between endless bouncing. “I’m kind of between things at the moment.”
“Between things,” Euijoo repeats, words clumsily falling off of his tongue. He doesn’t mean it to be judgmental. Nicholas looks at him like he’s trying to gauge if it’s judgmental.
He must decide it’s not. He doesn’t sound offended. “Yeah. I have an interview after we get back, though. So, hopefully that works out.”
“You’re not worried about it? Not having something specific lined up?” Euijoo cringes at his own question as soon as it’s out. Brain standing by uselessly as he digs himself a bigger hole. That certainly sounded judgmental.
Nicholas’s lips quirk up on one side. “I’ll be fine. I’d rather take my time than be stuck with something I don’t like. My old job was fucking miserable.”
Euijoo hums mindlessly. He pulls on his hangnail too hard, skin peeling back. He flinches. “My job is kind of miserable.”
“Ah, Juju…” Nicholas says. He moves his hand, softly drawn circles replaced with fingers curled around Euijoo’s shoulder.
“No, sorry, it’s fine,” Euijoo hurries to explain. He doesn’t want Nicholas to think he’s, like, dying. He’s not. It’s just that he doesn’t love what he does. Who does, though? “I’m just… I don’t know. Forget it. I’m not thinking straight.”
“Okay…” Now it’s Nicholas’s turn to eye Euijoo. The weight of his stare makes Euijoo’s skin prickle.
“So,” Euijoo coughs, forcing the conversation onward. He’s pretty sure his cheeks are going to be permanently pink after this trip. It’s only been an hour, and he’s already feeling light headed from lack of proper blood flow to the rest of his body. “So, you don’t have… a boyfriend, then. Or girlfriend. I hope.”
“Oh, you hope?” Nicholas teases. He flattens his hand against Euijoo’s shoulder, following the line of his muscle to his neck. The pads of his fingers trace up to Euijoo’s jaw, lingering for a second before dropping back down, coming to rest at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
Euijoo’s eyelids flutter slightly, jaw tight. He forces himself to relax. Nicholas is prodding him as a test. Euijoo won’t fail. He still manages to stumble over his words, “No— I just meant, like, because you’re doing this for me—”
Nicholas laughs fondly. “I knew what you meant, Euijoo, I’m just teasing you.”
“Ugh.”
Another laugh. Nicholas works his fingers under the collar of Euijoo’s shirt, pressing into his muscle. Euijoo shivers, leaning into the touch on instinct. Some animal part of his hindbrain seeking heat.
“No. I don’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend. I haven’t in a while. No one has interested me enough.”
“Okay, so you’re not having crazy sex with anyone anyway…” Euijoo huffs. “I don’t know why you need to judge me for liking missionary.”
“I’d never judge you for liking missionary, Juju. It’s nice. Romantic. I feel like I know more about you now that I know you don’t want to pretend we’re having crazy sex,” Nicholas’s voice is laced with laughter. “Also, who’s to say I’m not having crazy sex without a relationship?”
“Well. I don’t know. I guess that’s true,” Euijoo mutters under his breath, trying not to sound too put out at the idea. He can’t do casual sex like that. It’s the guilt thing. It becomes ruinous.
“You’re funny, Juju. You’re just like you were as a kid.” Nicholas uses his free hand to reach out and pinch Euijoo’s cheek.
He gets a good grip before Euijoo smacks his arm away, scowling. “What’s that supposed to mean.”
“Cute,” Nicholas coos.
“I’m not cute. I’m a grown man.”
“You’re cute, Byun Euijoo.”
“I’m not cute.”
“How’s your sister?”
“She—” Euijoo sucks in a sharp breath. He frowns, eyebrows pulled together, shooting Nicholas his most offended scowl. “You can’t distract me by talking about my sister—”
“Chaewon, right?”
“Yes— but—”
“Is she married yet?”
“No, she’s a lesbian.”
“Lesbians can’t get married?”
Euijoo shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath in, and letting it out. Nicholas could probably do this for hours. They’re both perfectly suited for never-ending bickering— Euijoo refusing to not have the last word, and Nicholas intent on being annoying. It feels like they’re thirteen again, sitting on the bleachers over lunch, squinting against the sun. Nicholas always knew exactly how to press Euijoo’s buttons.
By now, Nicholas has two fingers fully under the collar of Euijoo’s shirt, index and middle finger following the line of his collarbone. Euijoo swallows the spit pooling in his mouth. “You’d love her girlfriend, actually. She’s just as annoying as you.”
“You two have a type, then? Must run in the family.” Nicholas’s smirk is dangerous. He looks so keen, Euijoo thinks. Like he’s exactly where he wants to be.
“How is it possible that you’re already so comfortable bothering me?”
“I dunno. You seem pretty comfortable with my hand in your shirt. I’m proud of you, Juju. Already beating the taser allegations.”
“You’re annoying.”
“You’re cute.”
“Shut up—”
“Oh my fucking god!” A shrill cry rings out across the gate. “The bastard really did it!”
Euijoo immediately retreats in on himself, covering his face with his hands. The sound of Yuma’s voice sends a pit of dread dropping straight down Euijoo’s stomach, settling in the bottom with an uncomfortable lurch. He doesn’t even want to look.
“Excuse me, there are children here!” Someone scolds. A few more passengers have drifted in while Nicholas was distracting Euijoo.
“Oops, my bad.” Yuma laughs, completely unbothered. “Holy shit, the bastard did it!”
“Yuma!” Euijoo breaks, snapping his head up. He sees Yuma’s blinding grin and an incredibly disgruntled mother standing next to him. “I am so sorry, ma’am,” he apologizes loud enough for all of them.
She gives him a dirty look, corralling her kids to the other side of the gate. Yuma laughs like something is funny.
“Oh my god,” he says. ”This is incredible. Maki owes Rua so much money. He was the only one who believed in you.” He stops in front of them, hands on his hips, shifting his attention to Nicholas. “I’m Nakakita Yuma, Euijoo’s best friend—”
“No he’s not,” Euijoo grunts.
Yuma’s grin doesn’t waver. “Hush, yes I am,” he says cheerfully, sticking his hand out for Nicholas to shake.
Nicholas snickers, but obliges, clapping his hand into Yuma’s. Euijoo can see Yuma’s eyes flicker with interest. Nicholas must be squeezing him tightly.
“Wang Yixiang. Or Nicholas, to Euijoo’s best friend. Nice to meet you, man.”
“Hm.” Yuma keeps shaking his hand for at least three beats too long. They’re locked into some sort of competition about it. It’s all in the eye contact. Yuma breaks first. He flicks his eyes back to Euijoo, dropping Nicholas’s fingers.
“How did you get here?” Euijoo asks. “I thought you weren’t allowed in Maki’s car anymore.”
“Maki likes to bluff,” Yuma waves him off. He drops into a seat across the way from Euijoo and Nicholas. “I told him I’d sneak my dab pen through security if he drove me.”
Euijoo glances around, making sure no one can hear him. “You cannot be committing federal crimes for a ride to the airport,” he hisses.
“Why not?” Yuma stretches like a cat that’s pleased with itself. “Everyone got what they wanted.”
“You better hope they don’t bring the dogs through here.”
Yuma snorts. “Shut up, Euijoo. Dogs love me.”
Euijoo turns his disappointed expression to Nicholas, earning a generous laugh. Nicholas is still touching him, though he’s let his fingers retreat to rest outside of Euijoo’s shirt, for now. His palm is warm over the curve of Euijoo’s trapezius. Euijoo almost forgot how nice it feels to have someone automatically on his side for stupid things like this. By his side, even. He watches Yuma give them a good once over, gaze sticking to Nicholas’s hand for a second.
“So, is this why you’ve been avoiding us for eight months?” Yuma asks. He kicks his feet up onto his suitcase, eyebrows raised. “I kinda just thought you were pregnant. Or side-stepping Fuma.”
“I wasn’t avoiding anyone. I’ve been busy.”
“Sure.” Yuma looks Nicholas up and down again, openly appraising.
Euijoo ignores the swirl in his gut. “Where are Maki and Harua?” he asks bluntly, uninterested in what else Yuma has to say to or about Nicholas.
“Maki wore boots with, like, a million laces. He’s stupid. They pulled him for extra checking because he took so long to take his shoes off.”
Nicholas squeezes Euijoo’s shoulder when he sighs. He reaches over his free hand to set it on Euijoo’s knee, stopping it from incessantly bouncing. Euijoo hadn’t noticed he was doing it.
“Okay?” Nicholas asks quietly, turning his mouth to hover next to Euijoo’s ear, a conversation for only the two of them.
“Mm,” Euijoo nods.
“Okay, you should get better at lying, or this is going to be hard,” Nicholas murmurs.
“I didn’t even say anything,” Euijoo hisses.
Nicholas laughs softly, like Euijoo has said something funny, but he doesn’t want to hurt his ears. He leans forward to press a kiss to Euijoo’s jaw, right in front of his ear. Euijoo’s body rebels against him for a second before he remembers that he’s meant to stop acting like he’s been tased. He slaps on a fake smile, humming as happily as he can manage.
“Jesus Christ, this is going to be a fucking painful trip to be single on,” Yuma grumbles across the way. “Did you know that Jo has a girlfriend, too? For two whole years. He just didn’t tell anyone. Fucking asshole.”
Euijoo blinks. “Our Jojo?”
“Yes, our Jojo.” Yuma grimaces. “I’ve taken to calling him Joseph. That’s how pissed off I am that he’d keep it from me. I’m his best friend.”
“I thought you were Euijoo’s best friend,” Nicholas says.
Yuma waves him off with a limp wristed hand. “I am. And I’m Jo’s, too. And Maki’s, and Harua’s. Not Fuma’s, because he always liked Euijoo better than me, for some reason.”
“For some reason,” Euijoo mimics in his most annoying Yuma impression.
“H–o—ly shit!” Maki’s loud voice interrupts Euijoo and Yuma’s impending spat. He’s standing at the end of the row of seats, arms raised at his sides like he’s hanging on a cross, a massive grin on his face. His boots really do have a lot of laces. “I totally thought you were lying about having a boyfriend, Euijoo!”
Harua rolls his eyes, ducking under Maki’s arm, shoving a wad of cash into his stomach on his way past. Maki laughs maniacally, snatching the bills from his boyfriend.
“If you thought he was lying, why’d you bet that he wasn’t?” Yuma asks, moving his shit so Harua can plop down next to him.
“Because Harua got first dibs, and it’s not a fun bet if we’re both on the same side.”
“I always get first dibs,” Harua says cooly. “I’m older.”
“Exactly. And I know how to keep a man happy.” Maki snaps his fingers, waving his hands in Euijoo and Nicholas’s direction. “But look! Euijoo wasn’t lying! His boyfriend is here!”
“Okay, for the record, I never told any of you that I had a boyfriend.” Euijoo frowns. “I don’t know how I could have lied when the words never left my mouth.”
“Right, but Fuma told us when you RSVPed, and the word spread quickly, obviously, because no one thought you actually had a boyfriend.” Maki shakes his head, dropping into the seat next to Harua, flinging his arm around his shoulders. Harua drops his head on Maki’s chest immediately, still half asleep by the looks of it.
“Why would Fuma be talking about my RSVP?”
“He was curious if any of us knew you were seeing someone.” Harua shrugs. “He seemed happy for you.”
Euijoo grimaces at the sour taste on his tongue. He doesn’t like that Fuma is thinking about him like that. Or at all, honestly. “Okay.”
“Anyway, I’m Maki, this is Harua,” Maki barrels on. He leans forward, sticking his hand out across the aisle.
Nicholas snorts, but meets him halfway, removing his hand from Euijoo’s thigh to shake Maki’s. Euijoo’s leg starts bouncing again, restless.
“Nicholas. Nice to meet you both.” Nicholas drops Maki’s hand after an appropriate amount of time, and gives Harua a nod. He re-sets his hand on Euijoo’s thigh, bouncing quelled again.
“Ohhhh, shit!” Maki bursts, eyes wide, canines looking especially sharp from Euijoo’s point of view. “This is the Nicholas you ramble about while drunk!”
“Can you stop swearing so loudly in the airport?” Euijoo grits. He hopes, by some act of god, Nicholas didn’t hear what Maki said. Maybe he got stuck on the swearing, too.
“Sorry?” Nicholas perks up, sitting up straighter and leaning forward a bit.
“Yeah— Euijoo gets sloshed, and suddenly he wants to talk about you,” Maki muses, pleased with himself.
“It was one time, Maki!” Euijoo bites. He knows exactly what Maki is talking about. It was right after he and Fuma broke up. Maki and Harua took Euijoo out for drinks, and Euijoo got abysmally wasted. He really needs to stop drinking, given his track record.
“Yeah, one time when we asked who the best kiss you ever had was,” Harua snorts, devious little smile fixed on his face.
“Shut up.” Euijoo hides his face in his hands, silently begging the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“Aw, baby,” Nicholas coos, a little too close to his ear. He uses his grip on Euijoo’s shoulder to pull them together. “Was I that good at fourteen?”
“Stop making it sound weird, oh my god,” Euijoo complains.
“It was pretty romantic, no? Look how red you’re getting.” Nicholas tries to pry Euijoo’s hands away from his face, poking at the sliver of cheek he can get between Euijoo’s fingers.
Euijoo removes a hand just to smack him. “I’m going to jump out of the airplane and take all of you with me so none of us can enjoy vacation,” he threatens.
Nicholas is beaming so brightly Euijoo almost has to look away. He pinches Euijoo’s burning hot ear, and then, when Euijoo tries to smack him there, he takes the chance to poke his cheek again. Euijoo scrunches his nose up, landing a nice, solid slap against Nicholas’s chest instead.
Yuma bursts out laughing. “Okay, fine, Euijoo. You can keep him. He’s sufficiently good at riling you up,” he declares. “Welcome to the family, Nicholas, I think we’ll have a great time.”
Much to Euijoo’s chagrin, Nicholas and Maki get on like a house on fire. They’re so wrapped up in their own side conversation for the rest of the wait time that there’s nothing to distract Euijoo from the ominous looks Yuma is shooting him, or the nausea re-building in his gut.
Nicholas has a hand on Euijoo the entire time, whether it be on his shoulder, or his leg, or, after they get up to get in line for boarding, holding Euijoo’s hand.
They’re in the very last boarding group, Euijoo’s friends abandoning them without pause. Euijoo doesn’t mind. It gives him time to plan his escape.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” he tells Nicholas, only a few passengers in front of them in line. “I think we should leave. Forget about this whole thing.”
Nicholas clicks his tongue, tightening his grip on Euijoo’s hand. “Euijoo, you’re getting on this airplane.”
“But what if I didn’t?”
“No need to think about that. You are. We’re almost there.” Nicholas nods encouragingly.
“This is a bad idea.”
“It would be worse if you were alone, wouldn’t it?”
Euijoo chews his lip. If he were alone, he wouldn’t have to fight anyone about bailing right now. He’d be able to just go. (He wouldn’t, because of the guilt complex, but, regardless.) He’d also have to cope with his friends bothering him about his clearly made up boyfriend. He’d have to talk to Fuma alone, and deal with the fact that he has no prospects, and that he hasn’t made any progress at all in the last year, and that his life is sad and terrible. If he were alone, he wouldn’t be faced with the horrible, life-altering realization that the man he’s been daydreaming about for eleven years is, still, by all accounts, perfect. So, it’s really fifty-fifty.
“It’s fifty-fifty.”
Nicholas barks out a delighted laugh. “You’re full of shit.”
“I’m not.”
“Get your boarding pass out, Juju, we’re next.”
Euijoo scowls, wrestling his phone out of his pocket. His boarding pass is already up. Of course it is. He likes to be prepared. He flexes his hand when Nicholas drops it, plastering on a smile for the attendant scanning tickets, ignoring the steady press of Nicholas’s hand on his back, like he’s afraid Euijoo is still a flight risk.
On the jet bridge, Euijoo lets Nicholas catch up to him. “I was always going to get on the plane,” he grumbles.
“I know,” Nicholas says easily. He gives Euijoo a pointed look. It hits Euijoo a little too deep. Like Nicholas is able to see straight through him. “It’s okay to ask for reassurance if you need it,” he tacks on before flitting ahead, stepping onto the plane.
Euijoo bites his tongue, following Nicholas onboard. He already feels exhausted by the time he and Nicholas are seated in the very back of the plane. Dead last row. At least they have a window seat. Nicholas lets Euijoo take the window on the promise he’ll get the window on the way back. They pinky swear on it just like they used to when they were fourteen.
As soon as the airplane is moving, Nicholas falls asleep, head tipped back and mouth slightly open. Euijoo doesn’t bother to not stare this time. It’s not like Nicholas will be able to tell.
Nicholas has pretty, plush lips. It looks like he uses chapstick, which Euijoo figures is good, because they’ll probably need to kiss sometime this week. The slope of his nose is perfectly sharp. Euijoo wants to reach out and trace it with his finger, but he holds back. That would be weird.
Euijoo swallows thickly, pushing himself back into his seat, turning to look out the window. The lights on the runway blink. It’s much too late to back out now. He could create a scene worthy of arrest, but that would fuck up his life too much to be worth it.
Instead, he closes his eyes, leaning his head against the wall of the airplane, and lets the vibration of the engine occupy the space meant for thoughts.
༝༚
Fuma’s fiancé must be obscenely loaded.
Euijoo kind of figured, when he realized that the hotel booking was completely taken care of as a courtesy to everyone attending the wedding— no one is able to do that but rich people— but seeing this place in person is a different story.
There was a black van that picked them up from the airport. The driver offered champagne. Champagne. In the car.
The resort is gated, the driveway long, leading into the jungle before opening into a beautiful facade. There’s a lot of guided shuffling from car to lobby, and lobby to room, and then Harua, Maki, and Yuma turn the other way down the hall, and Nicholas and Euijoo are unlocking the door to their room.
“This room must cost more per night than one month of my rent,” Euijoo mutters mostly to himself. Nicholas is too busy oohing and aahing at the number of lightswitches on the wall to be paying him any mind.
Euijoo drags himself into the room. Or— it’s more like rooms— a sitting area and a kitchenette separated by giant sliding doors into the bedroom, sunset visible through the floor to ceiling balcony doors on the other side of the king-sized bed. It’s stunning. Absolutely breathtaking. Euijoo might throw up.
He kind of forgot about the bed thing. He was too worried about literally everything else to remember that he and Nicholas would be sharing a bed. Thankfully, it’s a big bed— so hopefully it won’t be an issue.
Their suitcases were already delivered by staff, set up on stands near the dresser. There’s a card laying on the bed, neatly framed by hand towels folded into roses. Euijoo plucks it up with a huff, scanning the neatly printed text. Welcome, Euijoo & Yixiang! It reads, followed by a detailed itinerary for the next six days.
“Oh, wow, they’re so fancy,” Nicholas appears over his shoulder, breath tickling Euijoo’s ear.
“It’s too much, isn’t it?” Euijoo presses his lips together, ignoring the sting of gooseflesh along the back of his neck from Nicholas’s proximity. “A planned excursion every day? A luncheon? I don’t even know what a luncheon is!”
“I don’t think you’re pronouncing that correctly,” Nicholas giggles. He sidesteps Euijoo, shoving the folded towels out of the way and flopping onto the bed, rolling onto his back and putting his hands behind his head. “Don’t forget rule number two, Juju!”
“Thou shall not be left alone with Yuma?”
“No. Relax. We’re supposed to be having fun.”
Euijoo sighs, muscles in his neck tightening even further. This doesn’t bode well. He rolls his shoulders, trying to release some of the tension. It doesn’t work. When he showers, he’ll turn the water up until it burns his skin.
Nicholas is studying him like he’s trying to determine if Euijoo is following directions. He hums after a second. “Wow. It’s worse than I thought.”
“I think I’m dying,” Euijoo says, pulling at the front of his shirt, the collar suddenly feeling much too tight.
“You’re not dying, you’re being reborn. We’re witnessing the creation of post-Fuma Byun Euijoo. This is beautiful.” Nicholas holds it together for all of ten seconds before he breaks into a shit-eating grin, eyes dancing with mischief.
Euijoo glares at him, but Nicholas just dissolves into laughter. Delighted.
It’s going to be a very long week.