Work Text:
Euijoo likes order. He likes things that are predictable, that he can study, that are easy to annotate and understand and revise. One would think that the life of an idol is as unpredictable as it gets, compared to the daily grind of a salaried office worker; on the contrary, their everyday schedules are managed down to the minute and organised into clear chunks of time in which the necessary activities have been prescribed, whisking them here and there without requiring much spontaneous input on their part. Euijoo finds that he likes it. It’s easy for him to relax into their routine, freeing up his mind so he can think about other things.
Lately, he’s been thinking a lot about Nicholas.
He always has been, probably; initially intimidated by Nicholas’ sharp features and unbridled energy, so different from Euijoo’s own gentle demeanor, then once they got closer and he learnt all of Nicholas’ soft insides, Nicholas became an indelible presence in his life. Euijoo would seek him out unconsciously, sitting next to him at meals without realising it, reaching out to make sure Nicholas was still standing next to him when they’re on stage, perking up and zeroing in whenever Nicholas speaks up. He constantly occupies a corner in Euijoo’s brain, like the quiet hum of an air conditioner or the faint whoosh of cars on the street outside his bedroom window; Euijoo is so used to it that it’s practically background noise to him, only noticeable when he listens out for it, or when it stops.
Recently, though, the background noise of Nicholas-related content in his brain has become more prominent. It doesn’t really come to Euijoo as anything concrete, nothing vernacular, just images, sharp flashes of broad palms, a pointed chin, angular cheekbones. A flash of hip when his shirt lifts, the way his feet look in plain white socks. A smile, peeking out at him from under the brim of yet another of Nicholas’ baseball caps. It’s not… Nicholas is just there, you know? And Euijoo is here, where he’s always been. Where they’re supposed to be. Predictable, despite the chaos that Nicholas embodies.
Maybe Euijoo shouldn’t be surprised, then, when Nicholas throws a spanner in the works. It is, after all, a very Nicholas thing to do.
Euijoo is already in bed, on the cusp of sleep when Nicholas barges into their hotel room, back from wherever he’s been working out his late-night energy. They have a shoot the next morning for a magazine, just the two of them and Jo, and Euijoo really wants to get enough sleep so the makeup artist doesn’t have to struggle as much with his panda eyes.
“Juju, are you asleep?”
“Yes,” Euijoo groans in reply.
Nicholas flicks on the room lights, then curses and slaps at the light switches until only the bedside lamp remains lit. He tosses his bag onto a chair then comes to sit on his bed, facing Euijoo. He has the hood of his sweater pulled up, and Euijoo, sleepy as he is and half-blinded by the sudden light, can barely make out Nicholas’ features.
“Juju, remember that time? When we were on TV?”
They’ve been on TV so many times by now that the question is redundant. Euijoo starts to get annoyed.
“No?”
“Okay, yeah, no, but we were on TV, right? On that morning show.”
Euijoo can hear the way Nicholas is bouncing his knee, a rhythmic tapping of his heel against the carpet. There’s a faint slurring to his words, layered over his usual lazy drawl.
“Nichol, have you been drinking?”
Nicholas chokes on air. “Just umeshu! A canned one! Liquid courage, is what Yuma called it.” He mutters the last part, as if it hadn’t been meant for Euijoo’s ears. “Anyway, no, listen, we were on TV, right?”
Euijoo is ready to dismiss the rest of Nicholas’ words. He’s not making sense, and Euijoo is too sleepy for any of this. He closes his eyes and pulls the futon all the way up and over his nose.
“And they asked you, right? They asked if you’d like someone who’s fun to be with.” There’s a faint scratching sound, like Nicholas is rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean, they asked if you’d like to be with someone fun. Like, if you’d like to, you know, be with someone who’s fun to be with.”
Nicholas is just repeating the same words but in a slightly different order each time. Euijoo’s brow furrows. Nicholas presses on.
“And like, I’m fun, right? I’m fun to be with, you know? You’d like to be with someone who’s fun to be with and I’m fun to be with so you like being with me, right? And, and maybe you’d like to be with me, like, right?”
This is interminable. Euijoo hates checking the time when he’s trying to fall asleep because it’ll just remind him of how he’s not asleep yet even though he’s supposed to be, then he’ll feel too frustrated to fall asleep. He opens his eyes to squint at his phone anyway, because he’s a glutton for punishment.
“Ugh, yes, Nichol, you’re my best friend, of course you’re fun to be with, now can you please let me go back to sleep?”
“Uh, I am?”
“Yes, you’re my best friend, okay?”
Nicholas’ voice sounds strained. “Just your best friend?”
Euijoo groans and turns over in bed, away from Nicholas.
“Okay, you’re the bestest friend I’ve ever had! There, is that better?”
There’s a beat of silence that stretches on way too long. Euijoo knows he won’t be able to fall asleep with a half-finished conversation hanging, and he’s so impatient for Nicholas to just get on with it and leave him alone.
“A- a friend, though, right?”
“The bestest, okay? Are you done?”
There’s a shuffling noise, slippers against the hotel carpet, and when Nicholas speaks he sounds further away.
“Yeah, Juju, I’m done. Sorry to bother you.” Then the bedside lamp goes back off, and there’s a soft beep of the lock as Nicholas leaves the room, door shutting behind him.
Nicholas must have returned to their room while Euijoo was asleep, because the next thing he knows, his alarm is ringing, and he’s shaking Nicholas awake before going to brush his teeth. Nicholas rolls out of bed almost immediately, a weird pep in his step as he gets dressed, in the way that lets Euijoo know he probably didn’t sleep and is still running on the same energy he’d had from the night before.
The magazine shoot is somewhere in the outskirts of Seoul, and he, Nicholas, and Jo all doze off on the bus ride there. It’s an unusual unit formation for them; Euijoo honestly can’t remember the last time the three of them have hung out together. But here they are, decked out in streetwear that’s maybe a little too colourful to be exactly Nicholas’ style, but he wears anything well, he always has.
Nicholas is fidgety all morning. It takes him ages to choose the accessories to match his outfit, and he can’t seem to stay in one spot for long, slipping out to fool around with the basketball and hoop they have outside the building, then coming back in to watch Euijoo get his hair styled, then back out again, the dead smack of the basketball hitting the ground a clear indication that it’s a little flat, but that doesn’t seem to deter him from trying to score hoops anyway.
Euijoo has just finished the first of his individual shoots. The cameraman is setting up for Nicholas’, so they’re chatting with one of the managers while they stand by - they’ve just been told their tribute cover song for Weverse Con Festival. It’s a heartwrenching breakup song, with feelings that seemed way too big for 8-year-old Euijoo when the song had first come out, and that still feel too big for 23-year-old Euijoo now. Not to mention the dance is, well. Euijoo hopes they won’t be asked to rip any tank tops off their bodies for the actual performance.
Nicholas is confused when Euijoo starts doing tiny body rolls of disbelief at their manager. He has to show Nicholas the original music video.
“Look at that tank top move, Nichol! Look at how they’ve oiled him up! Isn’t it insane?”
Nicholas watches, rapt, with that half-smile he gets by default whenever he’s talking to Euijoo, but his mind seems somewhere else. He’s sitting ramrod straight, eyes trained on Euijoo’s phone, taking in both the dance and the lyrics of the song.
“나는 어떡해…” he repeats, rapt at the way Rain beats his chest with his fists. The corners of his lips pull down into a frown, as if he’s asking himself the same question: what am I supposed to do?
Euijoo didn’t expect Nicholas to be this affected. He chuckles a little, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, it’s super melodramatic! I don’t know if I can sing with that much yearning, you know?”
Nicholas fiddles with a plastic fork from one of their lunch boxes. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem for me.” He sounds so weirdly forlorn, but Euijoo doesn’t have the chance to ask him about it before he’s called to his shoot.
Jo takes Nicholas’ place at the table. He sits down, then thinks better of it and stands back up again almost immediately.
“Jo-kun, are you okay?”
Jo blinks his eyes open. He’d nearly fallen asleep standing up.
“Ah, Nicholas-kun didn’t mention it? He came over to my room last night to hang out, so I didn’t get much sleep. I’ll be okay, though!” Jo’s smile is wan and he starts pacing up and down to chase his sleepiness away.
So that’s where Nicholas had gone after their weird friendship conversation. It’s not unusual for Nicholas to stay up all night, but he knows how important sleep is to the other members, so it’s not like him to bother Jo with his restlessness. It’s a small matter, and more likely than not a one-off occurrence, and Euijoo is always hyperaware of his position as leader - he strives to maintain an appropriate balance between unnecessary meddling and critical intervention, but this is Nicholas they’re talking about. Nicholas has always been the exception.
Incredibly, Nicholas manages to dodge Euijoo’s advances throughout the entire duration of the shoot. He spends most of their down time playing basketball, either by himself, or with Jo. When the three of them shoot together, Euijoo tries to spot any sign of awkwardness from Nicholas, or any trace of that moroseness that had darkened Nicholas’ face when they were checking out their cover song, but Nicholas acts perfectly normal. Almost eerily so. Euijoo can’t find an in to start a conversation with Nicholas, and just like that, their day ends, and Euijoo still hasn’t figured out what was wrong. He files this incident away in that same corner of his brain where he stores all his other Nicholas-related thoughts, though it sticks out a little, like the faint gurgle of a refrigerator doing its best to churn out ice cubes in the summer heat.
The next few weeks are busy - when are they not, especially when they’re in the middle of a tour? - though preparing for Weverse Con Festival breaks the monotony of Euijoo’s days considerably. They’re thankfully not planning to wear any tank tops, and Euijoo’s outfit doesn’t expose any skin that could potentially be slicked up with oil, though he does get a little nervous seeing Jo’s and Taki’s bare arms at their fitting.
His own outfit is a shirt and tie with half a jacket worn over it, a couple of leather straps around his shoulder and chest to hold the half-jacket up. In comparison, Nicholas’ outfit is simple - a classic three-piece suit that highlights the breadth of his shoulders, the vest pulling in perfectly at his waist. His pants are fitted, very fitted, in fact, and Euijoo’s brain adds this to the ever-rotating catalogue of Nicholas-related images that pop unbidden into Euijoo’s mind on a daily basis.
Rehearsals run later than usual because the choreography uses mic stands, and it takes them a while to get the timing right. They’ve put Yudai, Fuma, and Nicholas in the front of their formation, a decision that takes into consideration the mature theme of the song and the sex appeal they need to portray. It’s not that Euijoo isn’t confident in his ability to pull off the choreography, and he isn’t using it as an excuse to slack off, but there’s just something in the way that Nicholas snaps his hips with each body roll that’s downright hypnotic, and Euijoo won’t pretend to have even half of Nicholas’ magnetism. The tone of his voice, too, matches the song perfectly, filled with a sharp, painful longing that stays with Euijoo even after their performance is over.
Their green room is a little chaotic; Harua nearly drops his water bottle from how sweaty his palms have gotten while Maki is yelling about how sexy Jo’s glasses move was, and Yuma is trying to apologise for messing up the choreography even though Yudai will hear none of it, busy as he is with trying to help Fuma out of his leather straps. They did a good job and the sheer volume of the screams from the crowd is testament to that.
Euijoo catches Nicholas as he unrolls his sleeves to pull his shirt off, mourning the way the ridged scar on his arm disappears from view as he does.
“You did really well! Your vocals, especially. You were amazing.”
Nicholas looks so soft and vulnerable now, eyes wide, with none of the intense sexuality he’d demonstrated on stage.
“You think so?”
Euijoo doesn’t understand why his face is heating up.
“You’re always amazing, Nichol.”
Nicholas beams, just for a second, before his expression clouds over and he turns away before Euijoo can ask him why, leaving Euijoo feeling oddly unsettled.
It must be a combination of that, and maybe Euijoo had been scrolling too much through the fan reactions online, because he has the strangest dream that night. He’s wearing a white, long-sleeved T-shirt paired with black-and-white sweatpants, lying in bed, and for some reason, Nicholas is crouched on the end of the bed fully dressed, with his shoes on. He tries to tell Nicholas off for getting the covers dirty, but Nicholas is having none of it. He slinks up the bed, caging Euijoo in, and just keeps singing what am I supposed to do at Euijoo’s face. Euijoo tries desperately to push him off, one hand at Nicholas’ chest and the other on his arm, the smooth, raised skin of his scar under his fingertips, but to no avail.
Euijoo wakes up breathless, bolting upright in bed, bracing himself for the pain of headbutting Nicholas, but it doesn’t come, because of course he’s alone. He can still feel the ghost of Nicholas’ scarf trailing against his skin, the glint of his cross-shaped pendant in the lamplight still flashing in front of his eyes. Worst of all, Euijoo is hard, dick pushing uncomfortably at his underwear, letting him know in no uncertain terms that it’s not going down without a fight.
He’s glad they’re in individual rooms for this particular trip, and that Nicholas hasn’t tried to share a room with him like he usually does. In fact, they haven’t shared a room in a while, maybe since that magazine shoot, probably? Either way, it’s easy for Euijoo to push his pants and underwear off and wrap a hand around himself, trying to relax into the pleasure of getting himself off so that he can go back to sleep. His brain, traitorously, instead pushes his usual Nicholas-related background noise into the fore, and Euijoo spills into his hand with the echoes of Nicholas singing oh, please and I love you into his ear.
Unsurprisingly, Euijoo is too embarrassed to look Nicholas in the eye the next morning, and fidgets awkwardly at any close proximity with Nicholas for the next few weeks. How is he supposed to behave normally around Nicholas when he’s had an erection-inducing dream like that? Euijoo can barely even think about what happened without his brain short-circuiting, but he knows he needs to try to process and comprehend this so that he can file it away. Already, it’s making a disconcerting sound in Euijoo’s brain, like the clacking rattle of an overabused washing machine.
He… he had an orgasm…! While thinking about Nicholas! Considering Euijoo doesn’t even normally feel the urge to masturbate more than once a quarter, he’s quite frankly mortified. So, purely physically-speaking, this was already an outlier in Euijoo’s admittedly short life thus far. His body shouldn’t be doing shameful things like that of its own accord! Why would it betray him like this?
Euijoo holds himself back from Naver-ing topics like nocturnal penile tumescence and epididymal hypertension, mentally flipping the page to the next topic on his list, which is why Nicholas. Every time he’s had to touch himself, he usually keeps it fairly chaste, sticking to images of sweet, faceless girls like that one classmate he’d sort of dated for a month in middle school, generic and delicate and high-pitched. Nothing like Nicholas, lithe and strong and voice so low it stirs heat in Euijoo’s gut just to recall it.
Euijoo tries to physically swat away the sound of Nicholas’ voice in his head, causing Taki to glance at him in confusion. They’re in the car heading to rehearsals; Euijoo keeps swatting, pretending he saw a fly, and shoots Taki what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Taki seems sufficiently convinced, turning back to his phone and leaving Euijoo to torture himself with his own thoughts.
The next time Euijoo gets the time to think about his Nicholas problem is when they’re at PokéPark Kanto, waiting to film their collaboration performance. He sits in a corner of the room at one of the unused makeup tables, and lets his mind drift.
Maybe he’s just been too bogged down by the awkwardness and shame of it all! He needs to push his emotions aside and focus on the facts.
Fact: Masturbating is a sexual act. Fact: Euijoo had masturbated to thoughts of Nicholas. Therefore, fact: Nicholas is sexy. This is something that Euijoo should not be embarrassed to admit! Everyone knows that Nicholas is sexy! Nicholas knows that Nicholas is sexy! Therefore it is perfectly fine for Euijoo to know that Nicholas is sexy, too, and hence, it is perfectly fine for Euijoo to use thoughts of Nicholas to bring himself to orgasm!
Euijoo is so busy thinking about Nicholas being sexy that he doesn’t realise Fuma has been trying to talk to him.
“Euijoo? Euijoo-yah? Are you listening to me?”
Euijoo scrambles to answer. “Of course! And I agree!”
Fuma narrows his eyes. “Do you even know what I was saying?”
“Uh… you wanted to know if we should ask the managers to let us all go watch the premiere of Blue Lock?”
Fuma touches a finger to his chin. “That’s not a bad idea, actually, but no. I just told you that your mum’s homemade kimchi tastes like crap.”
“What?! Her kimchi is great!” Euijoo realises belatedly that it was just Fuma testing to see if he’d been listening or not. “Oh, I’m sorry, you have my full attention now, what were you saying?”
Fuma sighs, placing a gentle hand on Euijoo’s knee.
“Euijoo-yah, you seem distracted. Is something bothering you?” Fuma’s gaze always has a way of piercing straight through Euijoo’s walls, inviting Euijoo to confide in him, no matter the issue.
He huffs out a sigh, shoulders curving in. It’s one thing for Euijoo to rely on Fuma as his leader, but it’s another thing altogether to ask for Fuma’s advice on matters of… matters of a sexual nature. Then again, Euijoo knows that Fuma probably engages in matters of a sexual nature on a fairly regular basis, given that he’s Yudai’s boyfriend, and that probably entails some level of sexual… experience, right?
Euijoo lowers his voice, making sure the staff and the other members milling about the room can’t hear him.
“Fuma-kun, do you, um. Do you masturbate?” He’s defaulted to speaking Korean, now, too uncomfortable for anything else.
Fuma’s eyes widen in surprise, but he takes Euijoo’s question in stride. “Sure, from time to time.” He replies in Korean for Euijoo’s sake, his tone lilting and soothing the way it always gets when he switches, and Euijoo is flushed with relief and gratitude.
“And when you masturbate, do you, um. Do you think of Nicholas?”
Fuma, bless him, is cool as a cucumber, though the tips of his ears are rapidly turning red, stark against his silver hair. “N-no, I do not. Is there any reason why I should?”
“Because he is sexy? A-and so is masturbation?”
Fuma drops his face into his hands for a second, takes a deep breath, and resurfaces.
“Well, um. Euijoo-yah.” He’s fiddling with one of the laces that dangle from his shirt. “I’ve liked Kei-hyung for a long time, and, as you know, we’re together, so, um. Nicholas was never, and is very much not the person I think of, if and when I masturbate.”
That throws Euijoo’s factual theory out the window. How is he supposed to rationalise his sexy Nicholas thoughts now? Euijoo is very aware that he’s grasping at straws, but he’s desperate for clarity.
“Then, who do you think of?”
Just then, Yudai’s voice calls out from across the room. “Fuma! They want you to pick out our Pokémon headbands, can you come over here please?”
“Kei-hyung! I’m coming!” Fuma yells, much louder than absolutely necessary, springing up from his seat like it’s burned him. He stammers out a quick apology to Euijoo and is gone before Euijoo can blink.
Euijoo slaps his palm to his forehead in frustration. Great. So now he knows that Fuma masturbates, but apparently he doesn’t masturbate to thoughts of Nicholas, and he didn’t get an answer as to who Fuma actually masturbates to! It is simultaneously more information than Euijoo ever needed to know from his sub-leader, yet entirely insufficient to help with his current conundrum.
Euijoo spends the next few weeks mired in a whirlpool of Nicholas- and masturbation-related thoughts. It makes him cranky, and he knows the one thing that would cheer him up would be to hang out with Nicholas, but, for obvious reasons, Nicholas happens to be the source of his Nicholas- and masturbation-related thoughts! And he still gets discomfiting flashes of the Nicholas from his dream whenever he looks at him, which is horribly distracting, and Euijoo can’t afford to be distracted! They have their Seoul concert coming up and they’re busy preparing for their mini album, so Euijoo needs to be present more than ever! At least he hasn’t needed to masturbate again, which is a relief.
They’re at a filming for the mini album today. Fuma is out shooting his part and Maki seems to be giving Yudai an English lesson. Nicholas is splayed out, face down on the soft rug they’ve laid out in a corner of the room, scrolling on his phone. Euijoo finds his eyes naturally drawn to him, mapping out the angles his elbows make against the rug, the firm rise of his ass, the smooth lines of his legs. Nicholas really is rather attractive, why hasn’t Euijoo noticed this before?
All of a sudden, Maki laughs, his signature resounding bark, then he summons Nicholas over. Nicholas has to squeeze past where Euijoo is seated on the sofa to get there, and his ass is right at Euijoo’s eye level, so Euijoo has no choice but to stare at it. It’s even nicer in motion, like when he thrusts his hips for their Deer Hunter chorus. Which! Again! Is a perfectly rational and objective observation completely unrelated to any masturbatory activity whatsoever.
Euijoo is interrupted from his reverie when Yudai comes into his line of sight, placed gently onto the sofa next to him by a softly bemused Fuma.
“Euijoo! You have to do something about Maki and that Nicholas of yours!” Yudai has his bottom lip pushed all the way out, one hand fisted in Fuma’s pant leg.
Euijoo glances over at the culprits in question. Maki looks entirely too amused, arm around Nicholas’ shoulders. He spots Euijoo looking and smirks, eyebrows waggling. That can only mean trouble.
Euijoo puts his leader face on and approaches them. He’s just close enough to catch the tail end of what Maki is saying before he gets up and offers Euijoo his seat.
“... if they can do it, so can you!”
So Nicholas seems to require some encouragement of some sort! Why hadn’t Euijoo known about this sooner? It’s his job as leader to make sure his members are feeling confident and happy, and on top of that, Nicholas is his best friend! He won’t be able to forgive himself if he finds out Nicholas has been suffering through something alone.
Nicholas whips his head up when Euijoo sits down, the stern expression on his face softening so beautifully when he realises who it is, and Euijoo feels something catch in his chest at the sight. How he ever found Nicholas intimidating is a mystery - there’s nothing intimidating about the man sitting before him now, brows relaxed and lips pulled up at the corners, eyes so big and round, though there’s a distinct tremble to them that has Euijoo worried.
For a moment, every sexy and masturbatory thought about Nicholas fades away, the clacking and gurgling and whirring in Euijoo’s mind falling completely silent. Nicholas is right here, right in front of him, and something is bothering him! In this moment, nothing is more important to Euijoo than making sure his best friend is all right.
He reaches out to place a hand on top of Nicholas’, where he has it balled into a fist on the table. He tilts his head down so he can look up into Nicholas’ eyes, offering him a soft smile of his own.
“Hey, Nichol, whatever it is, I know you can do it.” He lets his thumb stroke soothingly over Nicholas’ fingers, struck once again by how much bigger Nicholas’ hand is compared to his. “I believe in you!”
Nicholas’ face runs through a complicated gamut of emotions under Euijoo’s watchful gaze. Then, before Euijoo can even fully realise what’s happened, Nicholas has unfurled his fist, twisting his wrist around to grab Euijoo by the hand, and then he’s dragging Euijoo out of the dressing room.
He only stops when they’re behind the building, sandwiched between a stack of crates and the perimeter wall. He lets go of Euijoo’s hand so he can pace up and down, muttering I can do it to himself and psyching himself up. The way he’s panting harshly through his mouth reminds Euijoo of when they did that bungee swing with Fuma, Nicholas determined to see it through despite the abject terror that had seized his lungs.
Euijoo knows that Nicholas has committed himself now, and there’s nothing he can do or say to urge or stop him, so he waits patiently, calm and predictable and ready to accept anything and everything that Nicholas’ chaos can throw at him.
“Juju, um. We’re friends, right?”
Euijoo nods fervently, encouragingly. “The bestest.” He’s getting odd flashbacks to that late-night conversation from weeks ago.
Nicholas does one more turn around the crates, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
“God, fuck, I really don’t want to fuck this up.” Nicholas has started swearing in Hokkien, which is how Euijoo knows it’s bad. He swallows hard, waiting for Nicholas to continue.
“I just wanna start by saying that… that it’s okay if you don’t want to be friends anymore after what I’m about to say, okay?” Nicholas’ face scrunches up in a horrible grimace. “I don’t want you to force yourself if you feel uncomfortable.”
Why would Euijoo feel uncomfortable? What could Nicholas say that could be that bad? A crippling anxiety starts spreading through Euijoo’s bones. He worries at his lip, unable to speak.
Nicholas shoves his hands in his pockets, then pulls them out again to clasp them politely in front of him, like he’s at one of their press conferences, steeling himself for an onslaught.
“Juju. Euijoo.” Nicholas clears his throat. “Byun Euijoo.”
Why would Nicholas full-name him? Euijoo can hear his heart thundering in his ears. Nicholas is looking at anything except Euijoo, knuckles white from how hard he’s clasped his hands.
“I… I’m in love with you. I want to be with you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way about me, and that’s okay! That’s okay, because I’m the luckiest guy in the world just having you as my best friend.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck. “And maybe I’ve fucked us up forever, now, but I just wanted to give this a shot, because, like, WENO, you know?” Here, he looks up hesitantly at Euijoo. “Why not?”
Euijoo is stunned, frozen to the spot. It feels like he’s standing in front of a tidal wave, looming large in front of him, gale winds blowing, the ground under his feet just a tiny dinghy that will easily be swallowed up and crushed. Everything in his brain starts screaming at him all at once, a terrible rush of noise, nothing is organised, nothing is where it should be, everything is wrong and horrible and too much.
Of course, Nicholas being Nicholas, takes one good look at Euijoo, at the way the colour has drained from his face, at how his mouth has dropped open, how his breath is coming a little too shallow and a little too fast, and understands immediately. He huffs out a laugh, short and self-deprecating.
“I guess I should have known. I’m so sorry, Euijoo, I really am. I… I’ll send someone out to come get you in a minute, okay?”
With that, he’s gone, leaving Euijoo alone on unsteady legs. Euijoo has just enough wherewithal to remain upright, resisting the urge to curl up on his knees and scream and scream at the noise in his head until it goes away. Taki comes barrelling into him a moment later, and Euijoo allows himself to indulge in his warmth, the near-painful strength of Taki’s hug squeezing Euijoo’s thoughts into a manageably quiet buzz.
Euijoo doesn’t remember how he gets through the rest of the shoot, only fully coming back to himself once he’s finished his usual bedtime routine, the predictable, unchanging step-by-step grounding him.
Lying in bed, he stares up at the ceiling, finally feeling ready to tackle the mess that today had been. Thinking about the emotions of it would probably overwhelm him again, so he focuses once more on the facts.
Fact: Nicholas is his best friend. Fact: Nicholas is in love with him. Fact: Nicholas wants to be with him. And therefore… and therefore, what? Euijoo wracks his brain for the logical conclusion to his train of thought, but the more he does, the more he feels something nasty rising up from his belly, threatening to choke him. He sits up, hoping gravity will help, but the pressure hits him behind his eyes instead, and somehow he’s started crying.
He’s desperately trying not to give in to the tears when there’s a soft knock at his door. He doesn’t trust his voice right now, but whoever it is gently pushes his door open anyway - it’s Harua, clutching the giant plushie that Maki won for him at a crane game a few years back.
“Euijoo-kun, can I come in?”
Euijoo is surprised to find himself nodding, his body responding before his brain can catch up, a raw, physical need to not be alone in his current state. He wipes perfunctorily at the tears on his face, but he knows that Harua has probably already seen them, even in the dim light of his bedside lamp.
Harua crowds into Euijoo’s space, sitting cross-legged on his bed, and pets the plushie in his lap.
“I heard that something happened between you and Nicholas-kun today.”
Euijoo’s head jerks up sharply. “Did he…?”
“No, it was Maki who told me.”
That checks out: Maki had been the last person to talk to Nicholas before he dragged Euijoo outside, and he must have seen them from where the shoot was taking place. Euijoo pulls a pillow into his lap, kneading softly at it with his fingers.
“I… I don’t know how to make sense of what happened.”
Harua tilts his head to one side. He always seems to know a lot more than he lets on, and Euijoo has to constantly remind himself that Harua only looks like a child - he’s a lot more mature than Euijoo gives him credit for.
“I don’t profess to have much practical experience myself, but if my extensive K-drama knowledge is anything to go by, I do believe you’re not supposed to try and make sense in a situation like this.”
Harua and his K-drama obsession! Euijoo can’t suppress a small, wet smile.
“Oh yeah? Then what am I supposed to do?”
Harua leans forward, placing both hands on Euijoo’s knees, and speaks with all the conviction his little body can muster.
“You’re supposed to feel, Euijoo-kun. How do you feel about Nicholas-kun?”
How does Euijoo feel about him? Merely touching on the topic floods Euijoo’s brain with a cacophony of sounds and images, of Nicholas’ unrestrained, heaving laughter, of the way he looks so devastatingly handsome when he’s locked in and ready to learn new choreography, how his eyes had been so warm and bright when they were playing with Yidam. How he approaches the world with a raw, honest energy that never fails to bowl Euijoo over. Without Euijoo’s permission, his brain has catalogued so many beautiful aspects of Nicholas that Euijoo had never really stopped to examine before, and for good reason: it’s a lot, it’s too much, he can’t-
“Euijoo-kun,” Harua’s voice pulls Euijoo away from the edge of the fathomless spiral he was about to fall into. His eyes shine with the sagacity of an aspiring K-drama main character. “We in the industry call that feeling love. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Harua’s words feel too immense to process. Love, in and of itself, is a concept that Euijoo can understand. He loves his parents, he loves his friends, he loves his group members, he loves their fans. Being in love, however, sounds terrifying and overwhelming.
“How… how do I know if I am?”
Harua sits back and clears his throat, delighted with the opportunity to impart his boundless wisdom. He whips out a small, colourful notebook, seemingly out of nowhere.
“All right, Euijoo-kun, are you ready?”
Euijoo feels about as un-ready as he can get, but he nods anyway.
“Now, every successful K-drama couple has a certain specific set of characteristics. If you and Nicholas-kun fulfill these characteristics, then you’re undeniably in love and will very likely marry before the drama is over. In some instances you might even produce offspring! But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Euijoo already feels like Harua is miles ahead of him, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever catch up. He clutches desperately at his pillow.
“Let’s start simple. Can you list up some acts of service that Nicholas has done for you? Like, has he ever made you breakfast while letting you sleep in? Does he make sure you stand on the inside when you’re walking down the street? Has he shielded you from falling objects or caught you in his arms when you’ve lost your balance?”
Right. Lists are good! Euijoo likes lists. They’re organised and logical. He ticks the items off his fingers as he speaks.
“Uh, I’ve ordered breakfast for him a few times, because he always wakes up late? Yes, he always makes me walk on the inside because he thinks I’ll trip over myself and fall onto the road or something. And, um, he hasn’t caught me in his arms per se but he’s always helping me clean up when I make a mess? Like the time I splashed water all over myself in the recording studio. But he laughs at me a lot, too! He’s always trying to rile me up!”
Harua’s eyes twinkle. He flips to a different section in his notebook, tapping at it with a bejewelled pen. Wait, where did the pen come from?
“Ah, yes, mischievously teasing the heroine, a very typical friends-to-lovers trope, good, good. What about dates? Have you had drinks together at a street stall? Or instant ramen by the Han River?”
Euijoo scoffs. The question is almost too easy.
“Of course we’ve had instant ramen by the river, we went a lot when we were trainees especially! It was always pretty late at night when we went, though, so if I got too sleepy, Nicholas would piggy-back me home.”
“Aha! The classic piggy-back ride.” Harua rubs his hands together in glee. “Next question: have you experienced any incidents of miscommunication or misunderstandings? Perhaps pertaining to the nature of your relationship?”
Euijoo likes to think he and Nicholas communicate pretty well, all things considered, although there was that small incident on that Japanese morning TV show.
“Well, yeah, one time I accidentally implied that I wanted to marry Nicholas on national TV, because I thought that they were asking about who I thought was fun to be with as a friend. Does that count?” Euijoo is suddenly slapped with the memory of his weird late-night conversation about friendship with Nicholas. “Oh… Oh…”
Had Nicholas been trying to confess to him that night? Is that what he meant by asking if Euijoo wanted to be with him? Euijoo’s cheeks heat up at the realisation. Harua waggles a finger in Euijoo’s face.
“The botched love confession, leading to unintentional friendzoning! Perfect!” Harua can’t possibly know about that late-night conversation, right? It’s uncanny how he’s managed to hit the nail on the head.
“Last but definitely not least, and I believe our entire fandom and their aunt knows this one, is this: do you and Nicholas share any similarities that couldn’t be anything other than fate?” Euijoo opens his mouth to answer, but Harua cuts him off with a triumphant wave of his hand. “Your birthdays! 7/9 and 9/7! And you’re even born in the same year! Ugh, the poetry of it makes me want to throw up sometimes, it’s too perfect!”
He leans back, shutting his notebook with a snap and pushing his glasses up his nose - he definitely hadn’t been wearing glasses when he came in, Euijoo is sure of it - looking inordinately proud of himself.
“I can’t believe I get to witness the birth of a true-blue K-drama rom-com couple right before my very eyes!” Harua giggles, adorable and disarming. “All you have to do now is confess to Nicholas in the rain! Let me check the weather forecast, just a second…” He’s tapping at the weather app on his phone now. “Excellent! The next storm is scheduled for the day after tomorrow! Go get them, tiger!”
That’s… it’s… Euijoo was expecting to feel overwhelmed again, anticipating the choking feeling to return, and he was ready to try and swallow everything down, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he feels lighter than he has in weeks. All the agonising that he’d put himself through in the loneliness of his own head has dissipated with one wave of Harua’s little fairy godmother magic wand, whimsical and bright, painting over Euijoo’s unresolved logical equations in pastel hues of emotion and feeling.
The noise of Nicholas-related thoughts in his head simmers down to one, clear, ringing sentiment: tell him you’re in love with him too.
Euijoo dives forward to wrap Harua up in a hug. “Thank you, Harua-chan, I needed that!”
“Ugh,” Harua grunts, the awkward angle of the hug pushing his face into the bone of Euijoo’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re the second person in our group to tell me that.”
Euijoo pulls back. “I am? Who was the first?”
Harua is already scooting backwards and off the bed, plushie in his arms.
“You’re welcome, Euijoo-kun!” He’s left the door slightly ajar in his haste to scurry away.
Euijoo gets up to shut the door and, well, he’s out of bed anyway, so he might as well pop down to the kitchen for a glass of water.
He’s just filled his glass when a dark figure slides past him, heading for the door. It’s Nicholas, still dressed in his tank top and ripped jeans from earlier. Euijoo jumps and nearly drops his glass in fright, but Nicholas doesn’t notice him, head down and posture slumped. He slinks out the door wordlessly, and, in a spur of the moment decision, Euijoo follows him.
They’ve made it as far as the little lawn in front of their building when Euijoo calls for Nicholas to stop. Nicholas does, but only barely turns his head to reply.
“I’m just going for a walk, Juju. Go back inside.” There’s a heavy melancholy in his tone that pierces sharply into Euijoo’s chest. He lifts a foot, ready to keep walking.
Euijoo doesn’t know what comes over him. He jumps the last few steps down from the door of their building and stretches out a hand, clasping it firmly over Nicholas’ wrist and spinning him around to face him. It’s almost midnight, so there’s hardly any light out, but small floor lights dot around the lawn, enough for Euijoo to make out Nicholas’ surprised expression.
“Nichol, I…” Euijoo hasn’t planned any of this out, he’s hardly ready for any of it, but he figures he probably never will be, so he might as well take the leap. Why not, right?
“I don’t want to be friends with you anymore.”
Nicholas’ face, already pale and wan, turns a horrible shade of grey. His lip begins to tremble, so he pulls it in between his teeth, biting down hard.
“I figured as much, Ju- Euijoo.” His voice comes out rough, unsteady. “It’s okay, it’s your decision to make. I just need some space right now, okay?” He tries to tug his wrist out of Euijoo’s grip, but Euijoo refuses to let go.
“Nichol, I had an erection because of you.” Euijoo almost can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth, but the dam is broken, and all Euijoo can do is ride the wave. “I masturbated and had an orgasm and everything!”
Nicholas blinks at Euijoo, the colour returning to his face in the form of a high blush on his cheeks. “O- okay…? I’m flattered, I guess?” He looks so beautiful like this, eyes rounded so sweetly, lip a little bruised from how he’d been biting on it. The sight stirs up a warmth in Euijoo’s gut that he now knows he doesn’t have to run away from.
“Nichol. Nicholas.” Euijoo clears his throat. “Wang Yixiang.”
Nicholas doesn’t move, a deer caught in the headlights. He waits for Euijoo to continue.
“I’m in love with you too, Nichol!” The words sound truer coming out of his mouth than they ever did just rattling around in his head. It’s somehow such a joyous thing to admit, and Euijoo is laughing. “I don’t want to be friends with you anymore because… because I want to be your boyfriend!”
The tension in Nicholas’ arm drops as he relaxes into Euijoo’s hold. His eyes are bright with hope, the smile on his face cautious and tentative.
“Really? Do you mean it?”
Euijoo nods enthusiastically, about to laugh some more when Nicholas grabs his face in both of his broad, calloused palms, and kisses him.
The sensation isn’t like anything Euijoo has ever felt before. Nicholas is so warm and so close, the scent of his skin and his every exhalation strangely intoxicating. The moist push of his lips makes Euijoo feel giddy; they’re so plush and slick and hot against his own, and when Nicholas’ tongue finds its way into Euijoo’s mouth, a jolt of heat shoots all the way down Euijoo’s spine, travelling back up again and lighting fireworks in his head. Euijoo’s skin feels like it’s on fire, which is why it’s such a shock when he’s suddenly drenched from head to toe.
Nicholas pulls back, equally stunned. It takes them a second to process through the haze of arousal, but it’s the lawn sprinklers - in the summer, they’re set to go off at night, too, and now both Euijoo and Nicholas are completely wet.
“No fucking way,” Nicholas whispers, laughing under his breath and pushing the damp strands of his hair off his face. Euijoo resists the urge to kiss his exposed forehead, but it seems Nicholas has no such qualms; he reaches up to wipe some of the water off Euijoo’s face, and then he’s leaning in again, heedless of how wet they are as he kisses Euijoo once more.
Euijoo, stalwart proponent of predictability and sensibility, caves happily to Nicholas’ whims. They only stop when Euijoo lets out a full body shiver, and has to pull away to sneeze.
Nicholas chuckles, warm and fond. “I guess we should get back inside, huh?” He’s a sight to behold, the white of his tank top almost transparent from how wet he is, a sheen of moisture covering his bare arms. Euijoo suddenly has the entirely wild urge to rip the tank top off him.
They step back inside the dorm, laughing and dripping onto the kitchen floor, still caged in each other’s arms like they can’t bear to be apart for even a second. Nicholas wraps his hands around Euijoo’s waist - they actually almost manage to encircle his waist entirely, what the fuck - and gives him one last resounding kiss before releasing Euijoo so he can grab them some tea towels from the kitchen.
Tea towels in hand, Euijoo is shutting the kitchen cupboard when he comes face to face with Jo, standing stock still by the microwave. They stare at each other for a second, dumbfounded, the only sound breaking the silence being the sharp beep of the microwave announcing the successful completion of its assigned mission.
Without missing a beat, Nicholas snakes an arm in and pulls Jo’s packet of rice out of the microwave.
“Enjoy your midnight snack!” Nicholas is beaming, entirely unperturbed by the fact that Jo had most certainly seen them kissing. Euijoo is gearing up for a full panic attack when he’s suddenly thrown over Nicholas’ shoulder in an undignified fireman’s carry, head dangling behind Nicholas’ back and legs trapped firmly under Nicholas’ right arm.
“Come on, Juju, let’s get you out of those wet clothes, hm? See you later, Jo!” He takes them both down the corridor, leaving a wet trail behind them.
It’s a strange position to be in, for Euijoo. Obviously because he’s dripping wet and being hefted upside down on Nicholas’ shoulder, but also because he doesn’t hate it. He should feel like his world has gone topsy-turvy, he should be exceedingly anxious and overwhelmed about it, but he finds that he isn’t, because things have finally clicked into place: Euijoo is here, where he’s always been, and so is Nicholas. Here, together, with him. Where they’re supposed to be. Where they were always meant to be.
Euijoo smiles to himself, blaming the warmth bubbling through his body on the blood rush to his head, and gives Nicholas’ ass a few wet smacks for good measure. Nicholas’ ass feels so nice under his palms, and Euijoo feels a little crazy, like he wants to tear Nicholas’ tank top in two after all and let him demonstrate just how well he can snap those hips of his.
Maybe later, though. For now, Euijoo just wants to relish in the feeling of his mind being blissfully and peacefully silent at last, the only sound being the beating of Nicholas’s heart, so solid and sure beneath him, and utterly his.