Chapter 14: chapter 13: tell me to stop

Gyuvin couldn't breathe.

The club was loud, packed with bodies moving to the bass-heavy music, the flashing lights sending dizzying streaks across his vision—but none of it registered. All he could see was him.

Ricky.

Gyuvin knew he'd have to talk to Ricky eventually, but not like this. Not here, when he was completely unprepared, when his mind was still tangled in the mess of what had happened between them. When the ghost of that kiss was still lingering on his lips, burned into his memory like a scar.

And then there was Jeonghyeon.

Gyuvin's stomach twisted into knots as the two of them approached. Ricky was here with Jeonghyeon? Why? Why?

Something ugly and bitter curled inside his chest.

"Hey," Ricky greeted smoothly, his voice was calm, unreadable.

Jeonghyeon, standing beside him, smiled politely. "Hi, guys."

The others greeted them normally, but Hao raised an eyebrow. "You said you weren't coming tonight."

Ricky shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, well. I was gonna stay home, but—" He tilted his head toward Jeonghyeon. "He dragged me out here."

Gyuvin's stomach dropped.

Dragged him out here?

He clenched his fists under the table, his nails digging into his palms as something hot and unfamiliar rose in his chest. He didn't know what he was feeling—anger, confusion, something else entirely. But it sat heavy in his ribs, making it impossible to think straight.

Jiwoong, always the host, waved them toward the empty seats. "You should sit with us."

"Oh, we're—" Ricky started, but Matthew and Hao immediately started insisting.

Gyuvin clenched his jaw.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

It was already bad enough that he had to run into Ricky tonight, when his head was still a mess, when he still hadn't figured out what the hell he was supposed to say to him. But this? Sitting at the same table, pretending everything was fine? Watching Ricky sit next to Jeonghyeon like they didn't kiss a week ago?

And then—Matthew, being Matthew, grinned and leaned forward, his voice teasing. "Wait, so are you two, like, a thing?"

Gyuvin barely had time to process the question before Jeonghyeon smiled—that self-assured, confident smile—and slid his hand up Ricky's arm. "Yeah," he said, voice smooth and sure. "We are."

The table exploded.

Exclamations. Laughter. Questions thrown out in rapid-fire. Since when? How did this happen?

Gyuvin didn't move. He couldn't.

His blood pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else.

Jeonghyeon started talking, explaining everything—how he had approached Ricky at the restaurant that night, how he had been interested in him for a long time but never thought he had a chance, how seeing him there felt like fate.

Gyuvin felt like he was going to be sick.

But what made it worse—what made his head spin and his fingers curl even tighter against his palms—was Ricky.

Ricky, who sat there, perfectly still.

Ricky, who was smiling, laughing, and talking.

Ricky, who was staring at the same spot across the room, deliberately ignoring Gyuvin's gaze.

Gyuvin's grip tightened on the table.

Ricky was ignoring him.

Not looking at him. Not reacting. Not even acknowledging the way Gyuvin was staring at him, trying to make him look.

And that—that—made Gyuvin absolutely furious.

The conversation at the table continued, the energy lighthearted, full of teasing and casual chatter.

Ricky's posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable, but Gyuvin could see it in the way he carried himself, in the careful way he chose his words.

"So, Ricky," Jiwoong spoke up again, taking a sip of his drink, "did Jeonghyeon finally win you over?"

"Something like that," Ricky said calmly.

Jeonghyeon laughed beside him, nudging his arm. "He's shy about it, but it's cute."

Gyuvin bit the inside of his cheek so hard he almost drew blood.

Hao groaned suddenly. "I need a refill. Who's coming with me?"

Hanbin stood up, dragging Taerae along, and soon, most of the group had gone with them, leaving just Gyuvin, Ricky, Jeonghyeon, and Matthew at the table.

The air shifted.

Ricky leaned back, exhaling slowly, stretching out his legs under the table—and his knee knocked against Gyuvin's.

Gyuvin jerked slightly at the contact. It wasn't much, barely anything at all, but it felt deliberate.

He shot Ricky a look, but Ricky only raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, like he hadn't even noticed.

"So," Gyuvin said, voice light, casual. "You and Jeonghyeon, huh?"

Ricky didn't react immediately. Instead, he let the question sit in the air, watching Gyuvin for just a second too long before responding.

"Something wrong with that?" Ricky asked, voice smooth, almost lazy.

Gyuvin gave a slow, arrogant shrug, tilting his head as if he were actually thinking about it. "No," he said, dragging out the word slightly, his fingers tapping against the glass in front of him. "Just seems sudden."

Jeonghyeon, oblivious, laughed beside Ricky. "When you know, you know."

Gyuvin's lips twitched slightly. "Yeah," he murmured, his eyes still locked on Ricky. "Guess you do."

Ricky held his gaze for a beat longer. Then he looked away.

Gyuvin felt something sharp press against his ribs.

He wanted to be mad.

But mostly, he just wanted to understand what the hell Ricky was doing.

They went to the dance floor. The bass shook the floor beneath them, bodies pressed together in a chaotic blur of sweat and flashing lights, and for a moment—just a moment—he almost felt normal.

He danced, laughed, shoved Gunwook when he nearly knocked him over, let Junhyeon spin him around dramatically like they were in some ridiculous ballroom scene. It was stupid and messy, but it was fun. It was the perfect distraction.

Until it wasn't.

At some point, Ricky and Jeonghyeon disappeared.

Gyuvin told himself he didn't care. He forced himself to keep moving, keep laughing, keep pretending that it didn't bother him.

But then, by some cruel twist of fate, his eyes flickered to the edge of the room—and there they were.

Jeonghyeon was kissing Ricky.

Gyuvin's breath caught in his throat, but he couldn't look away.

Jeonghyeon's hands were in Ricky's hair, his body pressed against him in a way that was impossible to ignore. And Ricky—Ricky wasn't pushing him away. Wasn't hesitating.

And then—

Jeonghyeon's lips trailed lower, down Ricky's jaw, down his neck—

And Ricky's eyes met Gyuvin's.

Just for a second. Just a brief, fleeting second.

Gyuvin swore time stopped.

The look Ricky gave him—it wasn't apologetic. It wasn't regretful.

It was calculated.

Ricky tilted his head slightly, giving Jeonghyeon more access, letting his lips brush against his skin as if Gyuvin wasn't even there.

Gyuvin clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt.

He turned away sharply, grabbing Junhyeon's arm and laughing at absolutely nothing, shoving Gunwook and throwing his head back like he was having the time of his life.

When Ricky and Jeonghyeon returned, as if nothing had happened.

Ricky was smiling. Laughing. Like he was having the best night of his life.

And oh, how Gyuvin wanted to rip that smile right off his face.

As they moved to the music, Ricky suddenly leaned in close to Jeonghyeon, his lips brushing against his ear as he whispered something.

Then, without hesitation, Ricky turned and walked off the dance floor, heading toward the exit.

Gyuvin saw it happen, and for a moment, he told himself to stay put, to ignore it.

He wasn't going to follow. He wasn't going to care.

Gyuvin should have looked away. Should have stayed right where he was, pretending not to notice, pretending not to care.

But he didn't.

Something—some unseen force, something stronger than logic—pushed him.

Before he could stop himself, his body moved on instinct, following Ricky. He told himself he was just going outside for air. That it had nothing to do with Ricky.

He grabbed his coat and slipped out the exit.

The night air hit him like a blessing—cool, crisp, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat inside.

And then—

Ricky.

Standing just a few feet away, back against the wall, looking out at the street. A cigarette dangled between his fingers, the faint ember glowing in the dark.

Gyuvin couldn't help but notice—Ricky looked beautiful that night.

He always did. Always put together, always effortlessly classy in a way that made people stop and stare. But tonight was different. Tonight, it was like he had put in extra effort.

The eyeliner sharpened his already striking features, turning his big, doe-like eyes into something sharper. The silver earrings caught the light every time he turned his head, glinting like little daggers. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the top, revealing just a teasing glimpse of his collarbones and the smooth skin beneath. His rings gleamed as he brought the cigarette to his lips, exhaling slowly, lips parting just slightly—

Gyuvin swallowed.

Fuck.

He was already pissed off. He didn't need Ricky looking like that on top of everything else.

Meanwhile, Ricky looked utterly unbothered.

Like he knew Gyuvin would follow.

Gyuvin stepped closer, the cold air biting at his skin as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. Ricky barely acknowledged his presence, only glancing at him before exhaling a slow drag of smoke into the night air.

"What are you doing here?" Ricky finally asked, his tone unreadable.

Gyuvin shrugged, leaning against the wall beside him. "Needed some fresh air."

Silence settled between them, tense and heavy. The muffled bass of the music vibrated through the walls, but out here, everything felt different—sharper, more real.

After a few moments, Gyuvin cleared his throat. "Didn't know you and Jeonghyeon were a thing."

Ricky took another drag, then exhaled. "Yeah."

Gyuvin clenched his jaw. "I thought you said you didn't have time for relationships."

Ricky barely reacted. "We figured it out."

Something about his casual tone made Gyuvin's blood boil. Ricky wasn't giving him anything. Just vague, detached answers like none of this mattered, like he didn't matter.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. "Really? That easy, huh?"

Ricky finally turned his head, eyes cool and disinterested. "Why do you care?"

That did it.

Gyuvin let out a sharp laugh, filled with irritation and something dangerously close to hurt. "Why do I care?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Are you actually serious right now?"

Ricky didn't respond, just watched him with that same unreadable expression, like he was waiting for Gyuvin to say what he really wanted to say.

Gyuvin gritted his teeth. Fine.

He stepped forward, closing the space between them. "You're acting like nothing happened," he muttered. "Like we didn't—" He stopped himself, inhaling sharply. "Like we didn't kiss."

Ricky blinked, finally reacting, but not in the way Gyuvin expected.

His lips curled up slightly in something that wasn't quite a smirk, but wasn't neutral either. "So?" he said, voice light, almost amused. "What about it?"

Gyuvin's breath hitched.

That tone. That tone.

Like it was nothing. Like it hadn't meant anything.

His frustration bubbled over. "What about it?" he echoed, voice rising. "Are you actually being serious right now?"

Ricky exhaled another slow stream of smoke, tilting his head slightly. "You're the one who threw up right after," he said smoothly.

The words cut deeper than they should have.

Gyuvin froze, his anger collapsing in on itself, shame creeping in like a slow poison. His face burned, his body stiffening as Ricky's gaze pinned him in place.

He swallowed, suddenly unable to meet Ricky's eyes. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. "I—" He exhaled shakily. "I'm sorry."

Ricky flicked the ash from his cigarette, barely sparing him a glance. "It's fine."

Gyuvin frowned, searching his expression for something—anything—but Ricky's face was unreadable.

"It was just a silly mistake," Ricky added, flicking his cigarette away before stepping back toward the entrance.

Gyuvin just stood there, stomach twisting, heart pounding in a way he didn't like.

A mistake.

Then why did it feel like something in him had just shattered?

His fingers curled into fists, his jaw tightening. "You're really just gonna act like it was nothing?"

Ricky exhaled slowly, watching the smoke drift into the night sky. "It was nothing."

Gyuvin scoffed. "Yeah? Then why did you kiss me in the first place?"

Ricky finally turned to face him fully, one eyebrow raising as if Gyuvin was the one being ridiculous. "Oh, come on," he said, voice calm, almost condescending. "Are we really doing this?"

Gyuvin stepped closer, eyes burning into Ricky's. "Yeah, we are."

Ricky huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. "What do you even want me to say? You kissed me back and then immediately ran to the bathroom to throw up like it was the worst thing that ever happened to you." He tilted his head, his gaze sharp. "So why do you care so much now?"

"I didn't—" He stopped himself, clenching his fists. His pulse was hammering, his ears hot. He hated how Ricky could make him feel this way—small, exposed, stupid.

Ricky clicked his tongue, watching Gyuvin struggle. "You're pissed because I'm with Jeonghyeon now? That's what this is about? You're so arrogant." He exhaled, voice dropping into something quieter, colder. "You don't get to be mad, Gyuvin. Not when you couldn't even handle one kiss."

Gyuvin felt his temper rising again, frustration bubbling over. "You know what? Fine. Forget it," he snapped. "Forget everything."

Ricky's smirk didn't waver. "Already have."

Gyuvin inhaled sharply, trying to keep his emotions in check. He shook his head, forcing out a bitter laugh. "You're such a piece of shit, you know that?"

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them so thick it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

Ricky parted his lips, about to say something—maybe another sharp remark, maybe something softer—but Gyuvin didn't let him.

Without thinking, without hesitating, he closed the distance between them in one quick movement.

He grabbed the cigarette right out of Ricky's fingers and flicked it to the ground.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Ricky barely had time to react before Gyuvin grabbed him.

His hands fisted into the fabric of Ricky's jacket, yanking him forward with a force that made Ricky stumble, his hands instinctively pressing against Gyuvin's chest. "What the fuc—"

But Gyuvin didn't let him finish.

He crashed their lips together, all fire, frustration, and raw desperation.

Ricky let out a sharp gasp against his mouth, instantly trying to shove him away, his hands pressing firmly against Gyuvin's chest. But Gyuvin was faster, stronger—he slid his hands down, grabbing onto Ricky's waist with a grip that was unrelenting, holding him in place, not letting him escape.

Ricky fought against it for a second, his muscles tensing under Gyuvin's fingers, his breath uneven as he tried to twist away. But Gyuvin only pulled him closer, his grip tightening like a vice around Ricky's waist.

And then—Ricky snapped.

His hands, which had been pushing, grabbed instead, fingers curling into Gyuvin's shirt, pulling him even closer, like he was pissed off at himself for giving in but had no other choice.

Gyuvin groaned into the kiss, pressing Ricky back against the cold brick wall behind them, molding their bodies together, desperate to feel every inch of him. Ricky's breath hitched as his back met the rough surface, a shiver running through him that had nothing to do with the cold.

It was wild. Desperate. Messy.

Gyuvin let out a strangled sound before he retaliated—one hand tangling into Ricky's hair, tugging hard, forcing Ricky's head back just enough for Gyuvin to drag his lips along his jaw, down his neck.

"Forget, huh?" Gyuvin breathed against Ricky's skin, his voice low, teasing, dangerous.

Ricky let out a short, breathless laugh, but it was wrecked, shaky. "Shut up," he muttered, voice slightly hoarse.

Gyuvin smirked against his throat. "What would your boyfriend think," he murmured, his voice low, almost a purr.

Gyuvin let himself get lost in it—his hands roaming down Ricky's back, sliding under his jacket, fingers pressing into the warm skin beneath his shirt.

Gyuvin caught it, the way Ricky's breath hitched, the way his body reacted despite his words.

Gyuvin chuckled darkly. "That's cute," he whispered, dragging his fingers along the exposed sliver of skin just above Ricky's waistband.

Ricky let out a sharp breath, something between frustration and surrender.

Then, lips brushing, barely apart, he whispered, "Shut the fuck up."

Gyuvin smirked, satisfied. "Go ahead," he murmured, voice dark and teasing as he pressed his body even closer, until there was nothing left between them. "Tell me to stop."

Ricky didn't.

Instead, with a frustrated groan, he yanked Gyuvin back into another kiss.

Like he wanted to prove something.

But Gyuvin wasn't about to let him win that easily.

He bit down on Ricky's bottom lip, earning a quiet, shaky exhale from him before soothing it with his tongue, pressing their bodies even closer together.

Gyuvin had never felt more alive.

Suddenly, Ricky pushed Gyuvin away, breaking the kiss with a sharp shove to his chest.

Gyuvin barely had time to react, breath still ragged, lips tingling, before he saw them—the others spilling out of the club, laughter and chatter filling the quiet night air.

Shit.

For a split second, Ricky wouldn't look at him, gaze flickering to the side, jaw tight. Gyuvin clenched his fists, forcing himself to wipe the dazed look off his face just as Matthew caught sight of them.

"Hey!" Matthew greeted, voice bright as ever, completely oblivious. "There you are! We were looking for you guys."

Gyuvin took a half-step back, putting a deliberate distance between himself and Ricky. His pulse was still hammering, but he forced a casual shrug. "Needed some fresh air," he said, tilting his chin toward Ricky. "Ran into him here. He was smoking."

The conversation carried on easily, just like that.

Junhyeon and Gunwook started raving about how cool clubbing was, how they needed to do it more often, how they couldn't believe they'd never gone before. Jiwoong laughed at them, calling them kids. Hanbin just shook his head in amusement.

Only Hao looked suspicious.

Gyuvin could feel his sharp gaze flickering between him and Ricky, like he was thinking. Like he knew.

Jeonghyeon slipped into the conversation with ease, stepping up to Ricky's side, placing a hand lightly on his wrist. "You okay?" he asked.

Ricky nodded, smooth as ever, voice perfectly even. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Gyuvin had to force himself not to scoff.

Hanbin checked the time and sighed. "It's almost eleven. Gunwook, Junhyeon, Gyuvin—you guys gotta go."

A chorus of groans.

They said their goodbyes, exchanging tired smiles and lazy waves before heading off in different directions.

Gyuvin didn't look back.

And yet—he could feel Ricky's eyes on him as he walked away.