Gyuvin was lying flat on his bed, limbs sprawled out, staring at the ceiling after studying for 10 minutes. The CSAT mock exam was literally tomorrow, and yet, here he was, on a so-called "30-minute break" that had somehow stretched to 45.
With a deep sigh, he forced himself up, ready to get back to the nightmare of prep books and practice questions. But just as he reached for his textbook, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw an unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Gyuvin."
The moment he heard that voice, his brain short-circuited. His grip on the phone loosened, and he dropped it.
"Ricky?!" He practically yelped, now wide awake.
"Yeah," Ricky responded, completely unfazed. "Are you busy?"
Gyuvin didn't even think before blurting, "No!"
"Good," Ricky said, his voice as indifferent as ever. "I need your help with something at my apartment."
Gyuvin had no idea what Ricky could possibly need help with, and honestly, he didn't care. He was already jumping out of bed, shoving his feet into the nearest pair of shoes he could find.
"I'll be there in 10 minutes!" he declared, nearly knocking over a chair in his haste.
Gyuvin stared at his phone for a second, completely ignoring the open CSAT book on his desk.
He had two choices:
1) Be a responsible student and study.
2) Run to Ricky's apartment like an idiot.
The decision was already made before he even finished the thought.
Gyuvin grabbed his jacket, bolted out of the room, and left the CSAT tragically abandoned on his desk.
Gyuvin arrived at Ricky's apartment, panting from practically sprinting the whole way. He didn't even have time to overthinkâhis brain was running on pure adrenaline and the fact that Ricky had called him of all people for help.
When he knocked on the door, Ricky opened it almost immediately, like he had been waiting. He was dressed casually, his hair slightly damp like he had just showered, and he greeted Gyuvin with his usual unreadable expression.
"You got here fast," Ricky noted, stepping aside to let him in.
"Obviously," Gyuvin scoffed, catching his breath. "So? What's the emergency?"
Ricky closed the door behind him and casually walked toward the living room, grabbing something from the table. He held it upâtwo black ties.
Gyuvin blinked. "...What is this?"
Ricky handed him one. "Tie it for me."
Gyuvin's brain stopped working for a second. "...What?"
Ricky sighed like he was dealing with a complete idiot. "I need help tying my tie. Just do it."
Gyuvin stared at him. "You called me hereâlike, dragged me out of my houseâfor this?"
Ricky didn't even blink. "Yeah. I'm bad at it."
Gyuvin nearly lost his mind. He had ditched studying for this?! He ran a hand down his face in disbelief. "Youâyou could've Googled it. Or watched a YouTube video!"
Ricky simply raised an eyebrow. "So you don't know how either?"
"I doâ" Gyuvin snapped before stopping himself.
Damn it.
Ricky smirked, victorious, as Gyuvin begrudgingly stepped closer and grabbed the tie from his hands. He muttered complaints under his breath as he flipped up Ricky's collar and started looping the fabric around his neck.
And then he stopped.
Because suddenly, he felt it.
Ricky's eyes were on him.
Watching.
Not just casually, but intensely, like he was studying something under a microscope.
Gyuvin looked up, confusedâonly to find Ricky staring at him.
For a second, everything fell silent.
There was something about Ricky's gazeâsomething deep, unreadable, like he was waiting for something to happen.
Gyuvin swallowed, throat suddenly dry. "...What?"
"Nothing." Ricky murmured.
"...Why do you even need a tie? You don't usually dress like this."
"I have dinner plans," Ricky said casually.
Gyuvin scoffed. "What, like a date?"
Ricky didn't answer.
Gyuvin's hands faltered slightly. "Waitâwait, is it a date?!"
Still no response.
Gyuvin pulled the tie a little tighter than necessary, making Ricky choke slightly. "Relax," Ricky said, giving him a lazy look.
"Tell me then!" Gyuvin demanded.
Ricky finally rolled his eyes. "It's a dinner with some friends. You're coming too, by the way."
Gyuvin froze. "Huh?"
"I already told them you're coming."
"WHEN?! I literallyâ" Gyuvin was about to explode. "Are you insane?! You didn't even ask me!"
Ricky just smirked. "You would've come anyway."
And the worst part?
He wasn't wrong.
After Gyuvin tied Ricky's tie, stepping back to admire his handiwork, Ricky glanced at the mirror, adjusting it slightly before smirking. "Not bad," he said. "Looks like you're good for something after all."
Gyuvin rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "You're welcome."
Ricky chuckled, loosening the tie just a bit. "We still have time before we leave. Make yourself comfortable," he said, already turning toward his closet. "I still need to finish getting ready."
Gyuvin nodded, but instead of sitting down, his curiosity got the better of him. He started wandering through the apartment, his fingers lightly brushing over bookshelves, furniture, and unfamiliar belongings. Everything here felt like Ricky, yet also... like a stranger. It was unsettling. And while Ricky was physically here, a part of him still felt untouchable.
Gyuvin wanted to connect with him againâto understand this "new" Ricky.
His eyes landed on an open door at the end of the hallway. Inside, dim light spilled over scattered canvases, sketchbooks stacked in uneven towers, and a desk cluttered with brushes, ink bottles, and half-finished pieces.
The art room.
Without thinking, Gyuvin stepped inside.
As Gyuvin wandered through Ricky's art room, he was hit with a strange sense of dissonance. The chaos around himâunfinished canvases leaning against the walls, splattered paint on the floor, discarded charcoal pencilsâfelt so Ricky. This wasn't just a hobby; it was an obsession, a world Ricky had built that no one else had been invited into.
And then, something on the desk caught his eye.
A sketchbook.
The corners were bent, the cover smudged from being handled too often, like it had been carried around, flipped through, used more than anything else in this room.
He knew he shouldn't, but his fingers moved on their own. He flipped it open.
At first, it was just random sketches. Loose, abstract lines, half-finished figures. But as he turned the pages, a pattern began to emerge. A familiar face.
His face.
Gyuvin froze.
Page after page, it was him. Some were quick sketchesâhis side profile, the way he rested his chin in his palm, the furrow in his brow when he was thinking. Others were detailed, too detailed. The slope of his neck, the way his fingers curled around a pen, even the way his shoelaces were always unevenly tied.
His stomach twisted.
And then, on the very last page, there was something different.
Not a drawing, but words.
A single line, written in smudged graphite:
"How much longer do I have to wait?"
He ripped the page out.
It wasn't planned, wasn't thought throughâjust instinct. His fingers crumpled the paper as he shoved it into his pocket, right as he heard footsteps approaching.
His body locked up. He barely had time to snap the sketchbook shut before Ricky appeared in the doorway, now fully dressed. His gaze flickered over Gyuvin, sharp, unreadable.
"Find something interesting?" Ricky asked.
Gyuvin forced himself to smirk, despite the paper burning in his pocket. "Just a bunch of weird scribbles, Picasso."
Ricky tilted his head. "That's Da Vinci to you."
Gyuvin rolled his eyes, stepping away from the desk before Ricky could look too closely. His heart was still hammering.
Their ride to the restaurant was fast, but for Gyuvin, it felt like a blur. His mind kept replaying the image of the sketchbook, those countless drawings of him.
His first reaction had been shock. His second had been confusion. But now? Now it was something else.
Gyuvin wasn't stupid. He knew Ricky was an artist. He knew Ricky had sketchbooks filled with people, places, and meaningless scribbles. But... Gyuvin had seen the way those pages looked. Obsessive. Deliberate.
Maybeâif he thought logicallyâthis was just another one of those. Maybe Ricky had a different sketchbook for every friend in their group, each filled with memories, little moments captured in pencil. But something in Gyuvin hated that idea.
He didn't want to be just another face in Ricky's collection. He wanted that sketchbook to be hisâjust his. The thought of it did something to Gyuvin's pride.
"Gyuvin?"
Ricky's voice cut through his thoughts. Gyuvin blinked, realizing the taxi had already stopped. Ricky was staring at him, one brow raised, waiting.
"We're here," Ricky said, unbuckling his seatbelt with that same effortless coolness.
Gyuvin hurried to do the same, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I know."
He stepped out into the night, the cold air doing little to settle the warmth crawling up his neck. His fingers curled around the stolen page in his pocket.
As soon as they stepped into the restaurant, a chorus of enthusiastic voices greeted them.
"Finally!"
"Look who decided to show up together!"
"We got Ricky and Gyuvin duo before GTA6!"
That last one came from Junhyeon, who practically screamed it across the table. The group burst into laughter, and Gyuvin felt his face heat up. Ricky, beside him, only sighed and shook his head, but Gyuvin didn't miss the way his ears turned a little pink.
They barely had time to react before they were pulled into the chaos, squeezing into the last two empty seats.
It didn't take long for the conversation to turn lively again. Turns out, Ricky already knew Taerae, Jiwoong and Matthew from some team-building event, which explained why they were so comfortable around each other.
"Honestly, I was kinda scared to approach you at first," Matthew admitted with a grin.
Ricky gave him a flat look. "Why?"
Matthew shrugged. "You have that 'too cool to care' vibe. Like, if I said the wrong thing, you'd just give me a dirty look."
The whole table laughed, and Ricky rolled his eyes. "I'm not that intimidating."
Gyuvin also introduced Yujin to Ricky. The two of them sat across from each other, both quiet, both blinking like they didn't know what to say.
"You guys have a lot in common," Gyuvin tried. "Like, uh... you're both kinda introverted."
Silence.
Yujin awkwardly nodded. Ricky simply hummed.
The group watched, waiting for something more.
"...Nice to meet you," Yujin finally said.
"...You too," Ricky replied.
And that was it.
Gunwook snorted. "What a beautiful conversation."
Junhyeon and Gunwook, as dramatic as ever, immediately launched into their complaints.
"Dude, you literally vanished off the face of the earth," Gunwook said, throwing his hands up. "One second you were here, and the nextâgone. No explanation, no goodbye."
Junhyeon scoffed. "And you think that's not a big deal?"
Ricky, as always, remained effortlessly indifferent. "It really wasn't."
That was the wrong answer.
Junhyeon leaned forward. "Oh? Not a big deal?" He turned to the group with an exaggerated sigh. "Tell that to Gyuvin, whoâ"
Gyuvin instantly felt his stomach drop.
"âbasically starved himself for a whole week after you transferred. He was walking around like some tragic historical drama lead, sighing at windows, acting all patheticâ"
Gyuvin's hand slammed over Junhyeon's mouth before he could finish, knocking over chopsticks and nearly toppling a glass of water. Junhyeon made a muffled noise of outrage, his eyes wide with shock.
"Shut up." Gyuvin's voice was dangerously low as he tightened his grip. "You're making stuff up."
Junhyeon tried to pry Gyuvin's hand away, but Gyuvin wasn't letting go. After a few more seconds of muffled protest, Junhyeon finally nodded in surrender.
Gyuvin shot him the dirtiest glare before forcefully shoving food into his mouthâanything to distract himself from the humiliation.
But then, as he raised his eyes, he felt it.
A gaze.
And when he looked up, he met Ricky's eyes.
Ricky wasn't laughing. He wasn't teasing. He was just watching him.
There was something unreadable in his expression, something Gyuvin couldn't quite placeâbut it was intense. It made his stomach twist in ways he didn't want to acknowledge.
Ricky's lips curled slightly, his smirk lazy but sharp.
Gyuvin's throat went dry.
Panic set in. He ripped his eyes away, focusing aggressively on his plate, shoving another bite of food into his mouth even though he wasn't even chewing properly.
The rest of the dinner went by smoothly, filled with laughter and nostalgia. They reminisced about their school days, shared stories about the hardships of CSAT prep, and bonded over the stress of admissions. Conversations flowed easily, and even the newer faces at the table blended right in.
At one point, Matthew casually mentioned the weights he used at the gym, and nobody believed him. He looked too small to be lifting anything heavy.
"No way," Gunwook scoffed. "You probably struggle with dumbbells."
Matthew smirked, rolling up his sleeve, and suddenlyâbam. His bicep flexed, sharp and defined, looking almost comically large compared to his frame.
The entire table erupted into chaos.
"WHAT?" Gyuvin practically yelled.
"Matthew, what is that?" Junhyeon gasped, reaching out to touch his arm.
Everyone else followed, one by one, poking and squeezing Matthew's bicep like they had just discovered a rare artifact. Matthew basked in the attention, smugly flexing harder, while Gunwook sat there, absolutely betrayed.
"I take everything back," he muttered. "I fear you now."
The group was still giggling when suddenly, a soft voice interrupted them.
"Excuse me."
They turned to see a man standing by their table, looking hesitant yet determined.
"Ah, Jeonghyeon!" Hao recognized him immediately. "You're from the art department, right?"
Jeonghyeon nodded. "Yeah, IâI think we've had a few classes in the same building."
His eyes flickered to Ricky. "I actually wanted to talk to you."
Ricky, who had been watching quietly, tilted his head slightly. "Me?"
Jeonghyeon nodded again, visibly nervous. "I... I don't want to interrupt, but would you mind if we spoke one-on-one?"
The table went quiet.
Ricky, as unreadable as ever, remained polite. "Sure," he said simply, standing up and straightening his shirt. "Excuse me for a bit."
Ricky left with Jeonghyeon, and Gyuvin forced himself to brush it off. It could be anything, he thought. Maybe some art-related thing, maybe Jeonghyeon needed a favorânothing worth overthinking.
So he turned back to his food, rejoining the conversation, laughing at Junhyeon's dumb jokes, and pretending he wasn't occasionally glancing out the window. Just to make sure everything was fine.
But as the minutes ticked by, and Ricky still hadn't returned, something started gnawing at him.
What's taking so long?
He tried to focus on his meal, but the longer they were gone, the worse the uneasy feeling in his stomach became.
Finally, he'd had enough.
Gyuvin pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly. "I'm gonna go checkâ"
Before he could finish, a firm yet gentle grip wrapped around his wrist.
Gyuvin turned, confused, but Hao just shook his head and pulled him back down.
"Don't," Hao said quietly.
Gyuvin frowned. "Why?"
Hao sighed, giving him a knowing look. "Because that Jeonghyeon guy is probably confessing."
Gyuvin blinked. "What?"
"I've heard he's interested in Ricky," Hao continued, keeping his voice neutral, like this was just another piece of gossip. "So just let them talk, okay?"
Gyuvin's mouth parted slightly.
So that was it.
That's why Jeonghyeon had looked so nervous. That's why he wanted to talk alone. He liked Ricky.
It was... surprising at first. But then, as Gyuvin thought about it, it became clear as day. Of course Ricky gets confessions.
He is pretty, talented, effortlessly put together. He had the kind of presence that made people look. He had always been like that, even back in schoolâno way he wasn't at least one person's hallway crush.
It made sense. All of it.
Finally, Ricky walked back into the restaurant, effortlessly slipping through the tables with that same composed, unreadable expression. But what caught Gyuvin's attention wasn't his faceâit was the way he waved at Jeonghyeon, all sweet and polite as the guy walked off.
Ew.
Gyuvin wasn't sure why that was his immediate thought, but he barely had time to process it before the rest of the table erupted.
"What happened?!"
"Did he confess?"
"Did you say yes?"
"Ricky, don't lie, what did he say?"
Everyone was talking over each other, leaning in, eager for details. Ricky, meanwhile, just sighed, as if they were exhausting him.
"Nothing happened," he said smoothly, reaching for his drink. "It was just uni stuff."
Even Junhyeon, who believed literally anything, squinted in suspicion. "Liar. Then why'd he need to talk to you alone?"
"Yeah," Gunwook added, "you even complimented his pieceâdon't tell me you're flirting now."
Ricky only rolled his eyes. "I complimented him because he's talented."
The table laughed, and the teasing continued, but Gyuvin stayed quiet.
They stepped out of the restaurant, the group slowly dispersing with laughter. One by one, they bid their farewells, some heading toward bus stops, others catching taxis.
As Gyuvin stretched his arms, ready to figure out his own way home, Ricky turned to him.
"Walk me home."
Gyuvin raised a brow. "You can't walk alone?"
"I could." Ricky glanced at him, eyes unreadable. "But I'm asking you."
Gyuvin scoffed but fell into step beside him anyway.
They walked through the quiet Seoul streets, the hum of distant traffic filling the silence. Gyuvin was the first to break it.
"So what did you and Jeonghyeon talk about?"
Ricky smirked, but didn't look at him. "You're curious?"
"No," Gyuvin answered too quickly. "Just... making sure you didn't get scammed or something."
Ricky chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "He asked for my number."
Gyuvin blinked. "And?"
"I gave it to him."
Gyuvin frowned. "Just like that?"
Ricky finally turned to him, slowing his pace. His expression was calmâtoo calm. "Should I delete it?"
Gyuvin stopped walking.
Ricky was looking straight into his eyes, serious, unreadable.
Gyuvin swallowed, feeling heat creep up his neck. "No, I just meantâ" He waved his hand vaguely. "Be cautious, okay? You don't know if he's a creep."
Ricky tilted his head, studying him. Then, in a tone too casual for the weight of his words, he said, "As a gay man, I don't really get opportunities like this. It's not every day a guy my age, who isn't a pervert, comes up to me."
Gyuvin didn't know what to say.
Ricky let out a breath, almost like he was laughing at Gyuvin's reaction, then took a step back. "Anyway. I'm home."
Gyuvin snapped out of his thoughts, realizing they had reached Ricky's apartment building.
Ricky looked at him for a moment, like he was going to say something else, but then just smirked. "Don't look so serious, Gyuvin. It doesn't suit you."
Gyuvin opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, Ricky had already turned around, disappearing into the building without another word.
And with that, he turned, walking inside, leaving Gyuvin standing there, heart racing with no logical explanation.