The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft golden lines across the sheets. Gyuvin stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent as he shifted closer to the warmth beside him. Ricky, still half-asleep, blinked at the ceiling before glancing at the clock on the nightstand.
His eyes widened.
"Shit."
He shot up, barely processing the way the blanket slipped off his shoulders. "Gyuvin, wake up! We overslept!"
Gyuvin groaned, rolling over with his face buried in the pillow. "Mmm... five more minutes."
"No, get up now!" Ricky tugged at the blanket, but Gyuvin just grumbled, clinging onto it like his life depended on it.
"You're so annoying," Ricky huffed before leaning down and murmuring right into Gyuvin's ear, "I'm leaving without you."
Gyuvin's eyes snapped open as he immediately sat up, his hair a complete mess. "Fine."
And then, the chaos began.
Between trying to find clothes, tripping over yesterday's discarded outfits, and arguing over who gets the bathroom first, it was a complete disaster.
"Where's my shirt?" Gyuvin asked, rummaging through the closet.
"I don't know, maybe check the floor."
They stumbled around the apartment, Ricky shoving a piece of toast in Gyuvin's mouth while throwing his own bag over his shoulder. Gyuvin, still chewing, complained, "What if I choke?"
"Then I'd have peace and quiet for once," Ricky deadpanned, grabbing the keys.
"Wow. My boyfriend is so caring."
Right as they were about to step out, Gyuvin suddenly grabbed Ricky's wrist, pulling him back with surprising force. Ricky barely had time to react before Gyuvin's lips crashed into his, deep and consuming.
Ricky gasped, but his hands instinctively found their way to Gyuvin's shoulders, gripping onto him as the kiss lingeredâslow, intense, and utterly distracting. When they finally pulled apart, Ricky was breathless, his face slightly flushed.
Gyuvin grinned, looking way too pleased with himself. "Just wanted to make sure my boyfriend doesn't forget about me today."
Ricky exhaled, shaking his head. "Let's go."
Gyuvin and Ricky stepped out of the apartment, the morning air cool against their skin. They exchanged a quick glance before heading their separate waysâRicky walking toward the university with his usual composed stride, and Gyuvin... sprinting like a maniac toward his school.
His bag bounced against his back as he weaved through the streets, dodging people, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush. By the time he reached the school gates, he was panting, out of breath, and disheveled.
Unfortunately, his teacher was standing right by the door when he arrived.
"Late again, Gyuvin?" The teacher sighed, arms crossed.
"Iâuhâgot caught up with something," Gyuvin blurted out, trying to catch his breath.
"Something?"
Gyuvin smiled sheepishly. The teacher didn't wait for an answer and simply gestured for him to get inside. He quickly slipped into the classroom.
Gunwook took one look at him and raised an eyebrow. "Dude, you look like a total mess."
Gyuvin rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to fix it. "I was up late playing video games," he lied smoothly.
"Yeah? What game?"
Gyuvin froze for half a second before blurting out, "Uhâjust... a random one. Nothing special."
Gunwook gave him a skeptical look but didn't push further. The lesson went on, just another typical school day, but Gyuvin felt oddly disconnected. His thoughts driftedâhis fingers absentmindedly tapping his pen against the desk, zoning out while the teacher spoke.
He missed Ricky.
It was stupid, really. It had barely been a few hours, and yet he kept thinking about him. The way he looked in the morning, still half-asleep. The way his voice sounded, a little raspy when he first woke up.
Gyuvin sighed, staring blankly at his notebook.
During break, he sat with Junhyeon and Gunwook in the cafeteria, mindlessly poking at his food while his friends chatted. At some point, they noticed how quiet he was.
"You good?" Junhyeon asked, nudging him.
"Huh?" Gyuvin blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.
"You've been staring at your food for like five minutes," Gunwook pointed out. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing," Gyuvin said quickly. "Just thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"Stuff."
Gunwook and Junhyeon exchanged a glance.
"Suspicious," Junhyeon mused.
"Very suspicious," Gunwook agreed.
Gyuvin groaned. "I swear, it's nothing."
They didn't seem convinced, but before they could interrogate him further, the bell rang, and Gyuvin took that as his escape.
The rest of the school day dragged on. He checked his phone during every possible break, hoping to see a message from Ricky, but there was nothing. Not that he was expecting oneâRicky was probably busy with university, being all responsible and mature.
Finally, the day ended. As Gyuvin grabbed his bag and started heading out, he overheard his friends making plans.
"We should go to the arcade today," Yujin suggested.
"Ooh, I'm in," Junhyeon nodded. "Gunwook?"
"Obviously," Gunwook replied, then turned to Gyuvin. "You coming?"
Gyuvin barely hesitated before shaking his head. "Nah, I can't today."
Gunwook scoffed. "Dude, again?"
Junhyeon crossed his arms. "You never hang out with us anymore."
"Yeah," Yujin added, narrowing his eyes. "You keep ditching us. What the hell is up with you lately?"
"Nothing, I'm just busy," Gyuvin said quickly, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.
"Busy with what?" Gunwook challenged. "'Cause last time I checked, you don't study, you don't have a job, and you barely even show up to class on time. So what exactly are you so busy with?"
Gyuvin clenched his jaw, already feeling annoyed. "It's none of your business."
Gunwook scoffed. "Bullshit. You're hiding something."
Junhyeon smirked, but there was an edge to it. "Or someone?"
Yujin grinned, but his voice was sharp. "Secret girlfriend?"
"Shut up," Gyuvin muttered, turning on his heel and walking away.
"We're serious, man," Gunwook called after him. "You can't just ditch us all the time and act like it's nothing!"
Gyuvin didn't turn back. He could hear them still talking, still irritated, but he didn't care. He wasn't about to explain himself to them. Not now.
Pulling out his phone, he quickly sent a message.
Gyuvin rang the bell to Ricky's apartment, shifting on his feet impatiently. A few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing Ricky in an oversized button-up splattered with paint, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was a mess, a smudge of blue paint on his cheek. He looked effortlessly beautiful.
Gyuvin blinked. "You look ridiculous."
Ricky raised a brow. "You rang my doorbell uninvited, and that's the first thing you say?"
Gyuvin smirked, stepping in without being asked. "I missed you."
Ricky rolled his eyes but let him in, leading him through the apartment until they reached the art studio. It was a disasterâpaint tubes, brushes, and unfinished canvases scattered everywhere. The air smelled like acrylic and turpentine, and in the center of the chaos stood a large canvas, half-painted in deep reds and blacks.
"I'm working on something for my new exhibition," Ricky explained, stretching his arms before running a hand through his hair. "Still rough, but I have a vision."
Gyuvin hummed, pretending to examine a painting, even though he didn't understand art that well. "Looks cool."
Ricky scoffed. "You didn't even look at it properly."
"It looks cool," Gyuvin repeated, grinning.
Ricky shook his head in exasperation before suddenly turning to him, his expression unreadable. "Be my model."
Gyuvin blinked. "What?"
"You heard me," Ricky said casually, already dragging a chair into the light. "Sit. Or stand. Actuallyâ" he paused, tilting his head as he looked Gyuvin up and down, his eyes sharp with focus. "I'll tell you what to do."
Gyuvin felt heat creep up his neck. "IâI don't know how to pose for stuff like this."
"Just listen to me," Ricky said, moving quickly as he adjusted the lighting and set up his canvas. "I'll handle the rest."
Gyuvin swallowed, sitting where Ricky told him to, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. Ricky's eyes softened slightly, like he could sense the tension. "Relax," he murmured.
Ricky disappeared behind the canvas, his voice calm but firm as he instructed Gyuvin. "Turn a little. Chin up. Stop fidgeting."
As Ricky began sketching, they fell into an easy conversation. Gyuvin recounted his day, shrugging as he mentioned the argument he had with Gunwook, Junhyeon, and Yujin.
"They think I've been ditching them too much," he muttered, shifting slightly before Ricky tsked at him to stay still. "I mean, whatever. They don't get it."
Ricky didn't even look up. "What's there to get?"
Gyuvin exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know."
A small smirk tugged at Ricky's lips, but he didn't push further. "They'll get over it."
Gyuvin studied him, the way he looked so unbothered by everything. It was both comforting and unsettling. "You're not worried about me dropping everything for you?"
Ricky's eyes darkened slightly, his voice softer now. "You want to drop everything for me."
Gyuvin opened his mouth to protest, but the words died before they even formed. Because Ricky was right.
"Yeah," Gyuvin murmured, almost to himself. "I do."
Ricky smiled and went back to sketching.
Ricky stood in front of the easel, sketching the outline of Gyuvin with careful precision, but his frustration was palpable. Every few minutes, he'd sigh, shake his head slightly, and glance at Gyuvin with narrowed eyes.
"You're too stiff," Ricky muttered, setting his pencil down. "Relax your shoulders."
Gyuvin tried, but Ricky only sighed again.
"And your jawâstop tensing it."
"I'm not tensing," Gyuvin protested.
Ricky shot him a pointed look, stepping out from behind the easel and crossing the short distance between them.
"You're always stubborn," Ricky murmured, tilting his head, studying him. "Hereâlet me."
Without hesitation, Ricky reached out, his fingers grazing Gyuvin's chin, adjusting it at a slightly different angle. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver down Gyuvin's spine.
"Like this," Ricky said, voice barely above a whisper, his thumb tracing along the sharp edge of Gyuvin's jaw.
Gyuvin swallowed, his lips parting slightly as Ricky's touch lingered, the warmth of his fingertips sending a slow-burning heat through his body. His gaze flickered between Gyuvin's lips and his eyes.
And then, suddenly, Ricky kissed him.
It started slow, almost testing, but the second Gyuvin respondedâpressing back, tilting his head just enough to deepen itâsomething between them snapped.
Ricky exhaled sharply against his mouth before tugging Gyuvin closer, his fingers threading through Gyuvin's hair, gripping just hard enough to make him gasp. The kiss turned feverish in an instant, mouths parting, tongues meeting, heat pooling between them as Ricky pulled him in like he was afraid to let go.
Gyuvin's hands found Ricky's waist, gripping tight, pulling him flush against his body. Ricky made a quiet, breathy sound against his lips, something between a sigh and a moan, and Gyuvin felt it, deep in his stomach, curling, twisting, making his head spin.
Somewhere in the chaos, something knocked over. Paint tubes, brushesâmaybe even the easelâbut neither of them cared.
Gyuvin pulled away just enough to kiss down Ricky's jaw, his mouth dragging over the sensitive skin there, tongue flicking out to taste. Ricky tilted his head back instinctively, letting him, his breath coming out in short, uneven exhales.
"You're impatient," Ricky murmured, voice low, teasing, as if he wasn't just as lost in it.
The air was thick with something electric, something raw. They were lost in each other, hands roaming, grasping, pulling, knocking over even more supplies in their urgency. Gyuvin's hands slid beneath Ricky's paint-streaked shirt, fingertips dragging along warm skin, feeling the way Ricky shivered at the touch.
Ricky tugged at Gyuvin's collar, pulling him impossibly closer, his lips parting to let out a breathy gasp as Gyuvin kissed down his throat, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark.
Somehow, they stumbled into the bedroom, still tangled together, their lips barely breaking apart for more than a second. Ricky fell back onto the mattress, pulling Gyuvin down with him, their bodies pressing together in a tangle of heat and urgency.
Gyuvin didn't thinkâhe just kissed him harder, deeper, wanting more, needing more. Ricky arched against him, his breath catching, his fingers gripping Gyuvin's shirt like he was holding on for dear life.
Ricky was like a drug. Addictive. Intoxicating. Impossible to resist.
And Gyuvin was already too far gone to stop now.
They laid in the bed in silence, Ricky nestled in Gyuvin's arms, their breaths slow and steady against the backdrop of the darkened room. The air was thick with the remnants of heat, bodies still tangled beneath the sheets, but the moment of stillness was short-lived. Gyuvin's phone vibrated against the nightstandâonce, twice, then again, a relentless, insistent buzz cutting through the quiet.
Ricky stirred but didn't move at first, just murmured lazily, "Who keeps texting you?"
Gyuvin barely glanced at his phone. "My mom."
Ricky huffed a quiet laugh, shifting slightly. "She's probably losing her mind. You never go home anymore."
Gyuvin made a noise of indifference, tightening his hold around Ricky's waist. "I don't care."
Ricky didn't say anything to that. Maybe because he understood. Maybe because he felt the same. The world outside this room felt distant, irrelevantâfaded into the background like static noise. None of it mattered when they were here, when it was just them.
But eventually, Ricky moved. He slipped out of Gyuvin's grasp and stood, his bare feet soundless against the cold floor. Gyuvin watched as he crossed the room towards the window, his pale skin illuminated by the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the glass. He looked like something out of a dreamâunreal, cinematic, his naked slender frame standing in quiet contrast against the vast sprawl of neon and darkness beyond the glass.
Ricky lit a cigarette, the flame flickering against his face for a brief moment before fading into embers. He took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the dimly lit room.
Gyuvin propped himself up on his elbow, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes. "You smoke too much."
Ricky didn't answer, only exhaled another thin stream of smoke, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Gyuvin sighed, running a hand through his hair before standing. He padded over to Ricky, the cold air pressing against his skin as he wrapped his arms around Ricky from behind, pulling him in. Ricky stiffened slightly at first but didn't pull away.
"You should quit," Gyuvin murmured, his lips brushing against the curve of Ricky's neck. "It's bad for you."
Ricky huffed, bringing the cigarette to his lips again. "So?"
Gyuvin reached up, gently prying the cigarette from Ricky's fingers. "So, I don't want you to die early, idiot."
Ricky turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing. "I won't."
"You don't know that." Gyuvin twirled the cigarette between his fingers, watching the ember glow faintly in the dark. "One day, your lungs are gonna give out. Blackened and ruined, just like all those tragic artists who think smoking makes them look whimsical."
Ricky scoffed, rolling his eyes. "It's just a habit."
"A bad one."
Ricky made a half-hearted attempt to take the cigarette back, but Gyuvin held it just out of reach.
Ricky sighed, turning back to the opened window. Gyuvin could see the way his lips pressed together, the way his fingers twitched slightly like he was contemplating something. Then, finally, with a reluctant exhale, Ricky said, "Fine. I'll try."
Gyuvin smirked, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the side of Ricky's neck before walking over to the sink and extinguishing the cigarette under the running water. The last ember flickered and died, leaving behind only the fading scent of smoke in the air.
When he turned back, Ricky was still standing by the window, staring at the city below. Gyuvin walked up to him again, resting his chin on Ricky's shoulder.
"You'll thank me when you're old and not hacking up tar," he teased.
Ricky snorted, but there was something softer in his expression now, something almost unreadable. He leaned back against Gyuvin just slightly, letting out a slow breath.
Gyuvin tightened his hold around him, burying his face in Ricky's shoulder, like he was trying to hold onto him a little longer.
The morning light seeped through the blinds, casting soft, golden streaks across the sheets.
"Wake up," Ricky said, glancing over his shoulder. His voice was low and lazy, like he wasn't fully awake yet either.
Gyuvin groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "Five more minutes."
"Stop," Ricky shot back, tugging the blanket off of him in one swift motion. "We're leaving soon."
Mornings like these had become a routine. Gyuvin was waking up here more often than at his own place, slipping into the rhythm of Ricky's life without even realizing it.
Just as they were about to leave, Gyuvin reached for the door handle when something small flew through the air toward him. Out of instinct, he caught it, the cold metal pressing into his palm.
He looked down. Keys.
Confused, he glanced at Ricky, brows furrowing. "What's this?"
"Keys," Ricky said simply, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Gyuvin blinked. "I can see that, dumbass. I mean, why are you giving me this?"
Ricky shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Just because."
Just because.
Gyuvin stared at him, flustered. His heart beat a little too fast, his fingers tightening around the keys as if to confirm they were real.
Instead, Ricky just smirked at his reaction, then opened the door. "Let's go."
They stepped outside, the cold air instantly making Gyuvin shiver. As they reached the sidewalk, Ricky glanced at him. "You need a ride to school?"
Gyuvin stiffened. "No."
Ricky frowned. "Why?"
Gyuvin hesitated, scrambling for an excuse. "IâI just feel like walking today."
Ricky tilted his head, unconvinced. "Walking?"
"Yeah. Good exercise," Gyuvin mumbled. He avoided eye contact, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag.
Ricky wasn't stupid. He watched Gyuvin closely, the way his posture shifted, the way he was clearly trying too hard to sound casual. Then, it clicked.
Gyuvin didn't want to be seen with him.
Ricky let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."
Gyuvin finally looked up. "What?"
"You don't want people to see us together," Ricky said flatly, his expression unreadable.
Gyuvin opened his mouth to deny it but couldn't find the words.
"It's not like that," Gyuvin muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Then what is it like?" Ricky pressed, taking a step closer.
Gyuvin swallowed, looking away. "It's just... complicated."
Ricky let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "Right."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension was suffocating, the cold air suddenly feeling even heavier. Ricky ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply before turning on his heel.
"Whatever," he muttered. "See you later."
And with that, he walked off, leaving Gyuvin standing there, the weight of the keys in his pocket feeling heavier than ever.
Guilt settled in his chest. He knew Ricky was right. But knowing didn't make it any easier.
Ricky was in a foul mood.
The drive to the university did nothing to clear his head, and by the time he stepped onto campus, irritation sat heavy in his chest.
He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. There was work to do, and if there was one thing Ricky excelled at, it was compartmentalizing.
The art department was bustling with students preparing for upcoming exhibitions. Ricky was one of the featured artists, and while he usually thrived in this kind of environment, today, it only served to irritate him further. He was in the middle of setting up some of his work when an all-too-familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Ricky."
He turned to see Jeonghyeon standing a few feet away, arms crossed, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Ricky raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Jeonghyeon sighed. "Professor Han wants the final proposal for the exhibition layout by next week. Can you help me out? Please."
Ricky clicked his tongue but nodded. "Fine. Let's get it over with."
They found an empty lecture hall to sit and discuss the details. At first, it was purely professionalâadjusting sketches, debating the placement of certain installations. But as the conversation stretched on, the tension between them began to thin, just slightly.
For a while, they worked in a strangely comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging short remarks about the exhibition. It felt almost normal.
And then, gradually, the conversation started to shift.
"You still paint at night?" Jeonghyeon asked absentmindedly, flipping through his notes.
"Yeah," Ricky said, adjusting the layout of his section. "Why?"
Jeonghyeon shrugged. "Just wondering. You used to text me sometimes when you were up late."
Ricky hummed, uninterested. "I don't do that anymore."
Jeonghyeon let out a short laugh, almost bitter. "Yeah. I figured."
Ricky didn't respond, but the slight edge in Jeonghyeon's voice didn't go unnoticed.
Jeonghyeon tapped his fingers against his phone, looking contemplative before he suddenly spoke again.
"Actually..." He hesitated for a second, then unlocked his phone and turned the screen toward Ricky.
Ricky barely looked at first, expecting something exhibition-related, but then his gaze focused.
Messages.
From him.
Except he never sent them.
His smirk faltered just slightly as he skimmed the texts. The date, the timeâit wasn't hard to connect the dots.
One plus one.
Gyuvin.
His fingers curled slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. No outward reaction. No sign that he'd pieced together the truth.
Instead, he leaned back, lips curving into a slow, knowing smirk.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Jeonghyeon narrowed his eyes. "That's all you have to say?"
Ricky tilted his head slightly, feigning amusement. "What else do you want me to say?"
Jeonghyeon studied him, searching for somethingâ guilt, denial, anything. But Ricky gave him nothing.
And instead of being flustered, instead of reacting like Jeonghyeon probably expected him to, Ricky simply exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head like the whole thing was entertaining.
"Anyway," he said, standing up, shoving his hands into his pockets. "We should get back to work."
Jeonghyeon frowned, clearly upset.
And Ricky?
He just walked away, his smirk lingering, eyes dark with something unreadable.
Gyuvin had crossed a line.
And now?
Ricky wasn't sure whether to be pissed off or amused.
So, Kim Gyuvin not as simple as I thought.