Chapter 17: chapter 16: you always found a way back

Gyuvin's mind was swimming. The air felt thick, and the only thing grounding him was the figure in front of him.

His eyelashes fluttered as he tried to focus, his eyes adjusting sluggishly. The world tilted slightly, and then a voice, low and familiar, cut through the haze.

"Get up," Ricky said, his tone softer than usual. "Let's go."

Gyuvin blinked slowly, trying to process the words. His body felt heavy, like he was sinking into the couch, but Ricky's hand was there—steady, unwavering. He let himself be pulled up, his movements clumsy, his legs unsure beneath him.

Ricky let out a small breath, almost amused, and tightened his grip around Gyuvin's wrist to keep him steady. "You're a mess."

Gyuvin frowned, swaying slightly. "Not a mess," he mumbled. "Just... a little dizzy."

"Right," Ricky said, clearly not convinced.

Somehow, Gyuvin ended up outside, the cool night air hitting his flushed skin. It made him shiver, but Ricky was there, walking beside him, his pace just slow enough to match Gyuvin's unsteady steps. The streetlights cast a golden glow over everything, making Ricky's sharp features look softer, more delicate.

A taxi pulled up, and before Gyuvin could even attempt to open the door himself, Ricky had already done it for him, gently guiding him inside.

The moment Gyuvin sat down, exhaustion crashed over him like a wave. The taxi smelled like leather and faintly of someone's leftover cologne, but none of it mattered because Ricky was next to him—warm, solid. Without thinking, Gyuvin turned his head, resting it against Ricky's shoulder, letting out a small sigh as the tension in his body melted away.

Ricky stiffened for half a second, just barely, but then Gyuvin felt it—the smallest shift, Ricky settling more comfortably against him.

Gyuvin reached out sluggishly, fingers wrapping around Ricky's hand. His grip was loose, sleepy, but certain.

Ricky exhaled, slow and controlled. He didn't say anything, but he didn't pull away either. Instead, his fingers—hesitant at first—brushed against Gyuvin's hand before settling there.

The taxi moved through the quiet streets, the city lights flickering past the window. Gyuvin let his eyes slip shut, the steady rhythm of Ricky's breathing lulling him into something close to peace.

And just before sleep claimed him, he thought, through the hazy fog of alcohol and warmth—this feels nice.

The sudden stop of the taxi jolted Gyuvin awake. He blinked, still groggy, the warmth of Ricky's shoulder disappearing as Ricky shifted. For a moment, Gyuvin wasn't sure where he was, his mind caught somewhere between sleep and reality, but then Ricky's voice cut through the haze.

"We're here," he said, tone softer than usual.

Gyuvin followed him out of the car, his limbs heavy and uncooperative. He yawned as they walked into the building, rubbing at his eyes. Ricky said nothing, just watched him with quiet amusement as they took the elevator up to his apartment.

Inside, the space was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp in the corner making everything feel warm, almost too comfortable. Gyuvin barely made it to the couch before sinking into it, stretching his legs out with a deep sigh.

Ricky disappeared into the kitchen, and for a few moments, Gyuvin just sat there, his eyes wandering lazily around the room. He'd been here before, but tonight, it felt different—quieter, more intimate in a way he couldn't quite place. The low hum of the fridge, the faint scent of fabric softener from the couch cushions, the quiet clinking of glass in the kitchen—it was all so... homey.

Ricky returned, crouching in front of him with a glass filled with something white.

Gyuvin squinted. "What is that?"

Ricky held it out. "Drink it."

Gyuvin made a face. "Why?"

"Because if you don't, you're gonna feel like shit tomorrow."

Gyuvin hesitated, eyeing Ricky with suspicion. Sighing, Gyuvin took the glass and took a sip—only to gag immediately.

"Oh my god," he groaned, pushing the glass back at Ricky. "That's disgusting. What is that?"

Ricky smirked, completely unfazed. "A miracle cure from hangover."

"It tastes like chalk," Gyuvin muttered, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Well, maybe next time you won't let yourself get pressured into drinking," Ricky said, sitting back against the couch, their knees bumping together.

Gyuvin huffed, sinking deeper into the cushions. "I wasn't that bad."

Ricky turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? So, you don't remember lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling for an hour?"

Gyuvin groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Okay, maybe that happened."

Ricky was still looking at him, but not in the way he usually did—not with the smugness of someone who enjoyed teasing him, but with something softer, something unreadable.

They sat there for a moment, the quiet stretching between them, comfortable and warm. The sounds of the city drifted in from the window, distant and unimportant. The couch was too soft, the air too still, and Gyuvin felt himself relax without realizing it.

Ricky nudged him lightly. "You okay?"

Gyuvin nodded, exhaling. "Yeah. Just... don't like being drunk. It's weird. Makes me feel all—" he gestured vaguely—"floaty."

Ricky hummed, watching him. "Then maybe next time, you should say no."

Gyuvin shrugged. "I'll try."

Before Gyuvin could think too hard about it, he let himself lean against Ricky's shoulder again, just slightly. Ricky didn't say anything about it, didn't tease him like he normally would. He just stayed there, solid and warm.

"Rest," Ricky murmured after a moment. "I'll wake you up in a bit."

As Ricky got up, Gyuvin reached out, his fingers wrapping around Ricky's wrist, holding him back.

"Don't go," he murmured, voice quiet but sure.

Ricky paused, glancing down at him. "Gyuvin—"

"Stay," Gyuvin cut in, his grip tightening just slightly. His eyes were wide, soft, the kind of look Ricky knew he couldn't fight against.

Ricky sighed, trying to keep up the pretense of resistance. "You really think that works on me?"

"It does," Gyuvin said, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

Ricky shook his head, but instead of pulling away, he let himself be pulled back onto the couch.

A beat of silence passed before Gyuvin spoke again, quieter this time. "I miss you."

Ricky stilled. His breath caught, and suddenly, Gyuvin's fingers on his wrist felt a thousand times warmer.

"I missed you after you left," Gyuvin continued, his voice steady, but there was something raw underneath. "I missed everything. You. Us. The way things used to be."

Ricky swallowed. "Gyuvin, you're drunk—"

"I'm not," Gyuvin said, shaking his head. His gaze was unwavering, locked onto Ricky's like he needed him to understand. "I know what I'm saying."

Ricky hesitated, searching for a way out, a way to deflect, but Gyuvin wasn't giving him one.

"You think I just want to go back," Gyuvin said, reading his mind. "That I don't know what I want."

Ricky exhaled, rubbing his temple. "You want everything, Gyuvin. You want the fun, the closeness, but none of the hard parts."

Gyuvin frowned. "That's not fair."

"Then tell me," Ricky said, voice quieter now. "What do you want?"

Ricky stared at Gyuvin.

"You," Gyuvin had said. Without hesitation, without doubt. Like it was the simplest truth in the world.

Ricky swallowed, something unspoken pressing against his ribs. He looked away for a second, exhaling, but then Gyuvin tugged at his sleeve.

"Come here."

Ricky let himself be pulled down, and before he knew it, Gyuvin had shifted, resting his head against Ricky's lap like it was second nature. He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling like this was the most comfortable place he could be.

Ricky huffed a soft laugh, running his fingers through Gyuvin's hair. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

Gyuvin just hummed in response, too content to argue. Ricky traced absentminded patterns along Gyuvin's temple, his fingers brushing over the curve of his cheekbone. It was so easy—touching him like this. It should've felt strange, after everything, but it didn't.

Gyuvin tilted his head slightly, gazing up at him with lidded eyes, a small, sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

"When did you start liking me?" Gyuvin asked suddenly, voice low and teasing but laced with genuine curiosity.

Ricky exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly, but the corners of his lips curled up. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just because." Gyuvin stretched a little, getting more comfortable on Ricky's lap. "I want to hear how I ruined your life."

Ricky let out a soft chuckle. "You really did, you know."

"I know."

Ricky rolled his eyes but didn't stop playing with Gyuvin's hair. He glanced away for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say it, but then he sighed, giving in.

"I didn't want to like you," Ricky admitted. "Tried not to. Really, really tried."

Gyuvin hummed, intrigued. "And yet?"

"And yet," Ricky echoed with a small smirk, "you were always in front of me. Mingling, laughing, being loud and annoying and just—" He huffed a laugh, shaking his head as if the memory itself was exhausting. "Even when I tried to distance myself, it didn't work. You always found a way back."

Gyuvin's heart did something weird in his chest. He blinked up at Ricky, warmth creeping into his expression. "So... you suffered?"

Ricky snorted. "Immensely."

Gyuvin grinned, shifting slightly so he could poke at Ricky's ribs. "Poor thing. It must've been so hard for you."

"You have no idea." Ricky grabbed Gyuvin's wrist before he could poke him again, his grip firm but gentle. His thumb brushed over Gyuvin's skin absentmindedly, and for a second, neither of them spoke.

Gyuvin swallowed, his voice softer when he spoke again. "You still like me."

Ricky's fingers tightened just slightly around his wrist. His gaze flickered, but he didn't deny it.

Gyuvin's chest ached in a way that was almost sweet. "Even after all this time."

"Even after all this time," Ricky murmured.

Gyuvin bit the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress the stupidly giddy feeling rising in his chest. "Damn. I must be irresistible."

Ricky rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in them he couldn't quite hide. "And insufferable."

Gyuvin grinned, tugging Ricky's wrist playfully. "Admit it, you love it."

Ricky huffed a laugh but didn't argue. Instead, he let his hand trail from Gyuvin's wrist to his face, brushing a thumb over his cheek. The touch was slow, deliberate—so gentle it almost burned.

Gyuvin's breath hitched slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned into it, his own hand reaching up to rest against Ricky's arm.

"I'm glad," Gyuvin murmured after a moment.

Ricky raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"That you still like me." Gyuvin's fingers traced small circles against Ricky's skin. "That I still get to have you here."

Ricky exhaled, something unreadable flickering across his expression. His hand lingered on Gyuvin's face, his thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth, his touch hesitant but wanting.

"You were always going to," Ricky said quietly. "No matter what, I don't think I could've ever really stayed away."

Gyuvin's chest felt full—too full, like there was too much feeling packed into one moment, one touch, one look.

Gyuvin hesitated for a second, then pushed himself up slightly from Ricky's lap, reaching into his pocket.

Ricky's brows furrowed as he watched him dig around, his warmth shifting away. "What are you doing?"

Gyuvin didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper, smoothing it out with careful fingers. His expression was unreadable, but there was something almost nervous in the way he held it between them.

"I kept this," he murmured.

Ricky frowned slightly, taking the fragile paper from Gyuvin's hands. The edges were soft from being handled too much, the ink slightly faded, but as soon as he unfolded it, his breath caught.

It was his.

A sketch. A garden, drawn with lazy, absentminded strokes, the shading uneven but deliberate. Ricky had drawn it two years ago—during one of their late-night study sessions, while Gyuvin had been chattering about something, sprawled out on the floor next to him. It had been nothing. A fleeting distraction.

He had completely forgotten about it.

"You left it in my room," Gyuvin said, voice barely above a whisper. "Two years ago. You forgot about it, but I didn't."

Ricky swallowed, his fingers tightening around the paper.

Gyuvin gave a small, almost sheepish smile. "I didn't want to throw it away."

"I don't even remember drawing this," Ricky admitted, voice quieter now.

"I do," Gyuvin said simply, his eyes never leaving Ricky's. "You said you wanted to go somewhere like this one day. Somewhere quiet, where you could breathe."

Ricky looked down at the sketch again, running his fingers over the worn-out paper. Something about it made his throat tighten.

"Do you still?" Gyuvin asked, voice soft.

Ricky lifted his gaze, meeting Gyuvin's eyes. "Yeah."

Gyuvin stared at him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his expression. And then, without thinking, his fingers reached out, tracing lightly over Ricky's knuckles, the warmth of his touch lingering like an unspoken promise.

Ricky didn't move. He just let him.

Gyuvin's touch was slow, tentative, his fingertips grazing up Ricky's wrist, tracing over the delicate veins there before slipping up to his forearm. Ricky exhaled, his skin burning everywhere Gyuvin touched.

Gyuvin smiled, slow and lazy, his fingers reaching higher, his touch featherlight as he brushed over Ricky's collarbone, then the curve of his jaw.

Ricky swallowed hard.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he muttered, voice rougher than he intended.

Gyuvin's lips curled slightly. "Like what?"

"Like you're—" Ricky stopped himself, because he didn't even know how to describe it.

"Like I want to kiss you?" Gyuvin murmured, tilting his head slightly, his breath warm against Ricky's skin.

Ricky's heart stuttered.

The moment stretched between them, fragile and charged.

And then Gyuvin leaned in, closing the distance with aching slowness, his lips brushing against Ricky's—soft, hesitant, like he was savoring the moment.

Ricky let out a quiet breath, his hands finding Gyuvin's shoulders, pulling him in just enough to deepen the kiss. It wasn't rushed, wasn't desperate. It was slow, languid, like the world had quieted just for them.

Gyuvin sighed against Ricky's lips, his body melting into him, fingers curling at the base of Ricky's neck. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down Ricky's spine, and he kissed back.

When they finally pulled apart, Gyuvin didn't move far. He stayed close, his forehead resting against Ricky's, breath warm, lips parted slightly in a small, dazed smile.

"I think," Gyuvin whispered, voice hushed but certain, "I'd go anywhere, as long as it's with you."

Ricky exhaled a laugh, shaking his head, but he didn't pull away.

Gyuvin lightly pushed him down against the couch. Ricky barely had time to process it before Gyuvin leaned over him, close enough that their breaths mingled, close enough that Ricky could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

Gyuvin didn't rush. Without a word, Gyuvin leaned down and pressed the softest kiss to Ricky's temple.

Then another, just below his eye.

Another at the curve of his cheekbone.

His lips trailed lower, slow and unhurried, pressing against Ricky's jaw, then lower still, grazing the sensitive skin just below his ear. Ricky shivered, his breath catching as Gyuvin's mouth lingered there, the warmth of his lips sending something electric down Ricky's spine.

Gyuvin's hands found Ricky's, intertwining their fingers as he brought them up, brushing his lips over Ricky's knuckles before kissing the inside of his wrist, delicate and reverent. His lips lingered there for a second, his breath warm against Ricky's skin.

Ricky exhaled shakily. "What—"

Gyuvin only hummed, tilting his head down, brushing his lips lower, over the edge of Ricky's collarbone, his nose grazing over the skin there.

Then, lips barely touching Ricky's ear, he whispered, voice low and filled with something that made Ricky's entire body burn:

"I missed you."

Ricky swallowed, his fingers tightening slightly around Gyuvin's.

Gyuvin pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and impossibly soft all at once. He squeezed Ricky's hand, brushing his thumb over his knuckles before leaning.

And then, with aching slowness, he kissed him again.

Gyuvin's hands moved under Ricky's shirt, fingertips gliding over the smooth skin of his waist, slow and deliberate. Ricky sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body tensing as heat spread through him, making it impossible to think.

"Gyuvin," Ricky murmured, barely a whisper, his voice shaky.

Gyuvin smirked against his neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just below Ricky's ear, letting his lips linger. "Hmm?" His voice was teasing, but there was something darker underneath it—something full of want.

Ricky tried to glare at him, but it was useless when Gyuvin was kissing his way down, his breath warm and heavy against Ricky's throat. His hands trailed along Ricky's ribs, thumbs skimming just under his chest, sending shivers down Ricky's spine.

Ricky let out a quiet groan, head tipping back against the couch as Gyuvin continued placing kisses along the curve of his neck, lingering just long enough to make Ricky's breath hitch.

Gyuvin's hands moved higher, pushing Ricky's shirt up just enough to expose more of his skin. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over Ricky's collarbone before sucking lightly, teeth grazing, leaving a faint mark. Ricky gasped, his body jolting slightly, his grip on Gyuvin tightening.

"Sensitive?" Gyuvin murmured against his skin, his voice low and knowing.

Ricky swallowed hard, his face burning. "You—" He cut himself off with a sharp inhale as Gyuvin unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, pushing the fabric aside.

Gyuvin's lips trailed lower. Ricky's breath stuttered, his hands flying to Gyuvin's hair, threading through the strands as if to steady himself.

Ricky shivered, his whole body taut with anticipation. "You're impossible," he whispered, voice breathless.

"And you like it."

Ricky bit his lip, but he couldn't deny it. Not when Gyuvin was looking at him like that—eyes dark, half-lidded, full of something deep and consuming. Not when every touch sent heat pooling low in his stomach.

Gyuvin leaned in again, his lips barely brushing Ricky's. "Still blaming this on the alcohol?" he whispered, his breath warm against Ricky's mouth.

Ricky exhaled shakily, his heart pounding. "Shut up."

Gyuvin just smirked before finally closing the distance, capturing Ricky's lips in a slow, deep kiss that made Ricky melt completely beneath him.

"Do you want to do it?" Gyuvin's voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight behind it made Ricky's breath hitch.

Ricky stilled beneath him, blinking up, caught off guard. "Gyuvin..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "You don't—"

But Gyuvin cut him off, shaking his head, his gaze unwavering. "I do."

There was no hesitation in his voice, no trace of uncertainty. Just pure, quiet conviction. Ricky had never seen Gyuvin look at him like this before.

Ricky exhaled shakily, feeling the warmth of Gyuvin's hand slipping under his shirt again, fingertips ghosting over his ribs, his back, every part of him that had ever ached and healed. "You always do whatever you want," Ricky murmured, attempting to tease, but his voice came out softer than intended, almost breathless.

Gyuvin smiled, leaning down until their noses brushed. "Not always." His lips ghosted over Ricky's jaw, trailing down slowly, deliberately. "But this... I know I want."

Ricky shivered at the certainty in his voice, at the way Gyuvin's hands moved—careful, patient, like he was memorizing every inch of him. And when Gyuvin kissed him again, it wasn't rushed or desperate. It was slow, deep—filled with all the things they never said, the moments they let slip away, the quiet promises they were only now beginning to understand.

Ricky closed his eyes, letting himself melt into Gyuvin's touch, into the way he held him like he was something precious. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like running away.