Work Text:
1.
The insistent hum of the fluorescent lights in the school library was a familiar drone, a sound Euijoo had come to associate with the deepening indigo outside the tall windows. Beyond the glass, the last embers of sunset had long faded, replaced by the soft glow of distant streetlights. It was almost a comfort, a predictable backdrop to the equally predictable rhythm of his life: classes, hagwon sessions, and then, invariably, Nicholas.
Tonight, he was sprawled across two chairs at their usual table in the back corner, a textbook tented over his face like a miniature, paper fort. His feet, clad in worn-out sneakers, dangled precariously over the edge of the second chair, occasionally twitching to some unheard rhythm. Euijoo, meanwhile, was meticulously highlighting passages in his advanced mathematics textbook, the sharp scent of marker ink a welcome counterpoint to the dusty old paper. He knew, without looking, that Nicholas wasn't actually asleep. The slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped an invisible beat against the spine of the book – these were tells Euijoo had learned to read over the years, a language distinct to him.
"You're going to get a crick in your neck," Euijoo murmured, not looking up from his page. He paused, waiting for the inevitable, dry retort.
True to form, the textbook shifted just enough for an eye to peer over the top. "And you're going to permanently fuse with that math book if you keep staring at it like it holds the secrets to the universe." His voice was a low rumble, laced with the playful sarcasm Euijoo had grown to cherish. It was the sound of familiarity, of shared history that stretched back to middle school, a history built on late-night PC bang sessions and whispered secrets in the back rows of classrooms. They were the kind of friends whose presence was so ingrained, people often assumed they were a package deal. Teachers always grouped them for projects, and their classmates rarely invited one without the other. They were Euijoo and Nicholas, an inseparable unit. Just friends, of course. Nicholas made sure everyone knew that.
Euijoo finally lifted his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. "It does hold secrets, Nico. Secrets to getting into a decent university, for one. Which, unlike some people, I'm actually trying to achieve." He gestured vaguely at Nicholas's prone form with his highlighter.
Nicholas sighed dramatically, finally sitting up and letting the textbook fall onto the table with a soft thud. His dark hair was a little disheveled from being pressed against the book, and his eyes, dark and expressive, were still a little heavy with feigned sleep. For a fleeting moment, as he blinked and stretched, his gaze met Euijoo’s, and Euijoo caught it – that familiar flicker, a warmth that seemed to linger just a beat too long, a depth that felt less like friendship and more like… something else. It was always there, quick as a breath, gone before Euijoo could properly name it, before Nicholas could consciously mask it. Then he yawned, a wide, exaggerated stretch of his jaw, and the moment dissolved.
"Oh, don't worry about me, Professor Byun. My natural charm and devastating good looks will see me through," he quipped, leaning back in his chair, a smirk gracing his lips. He picked up a stray pencil and began to idly tap it against the table, the rhythm now distinct: tap-tap-tap, pause, tap-tap-tap. It was a rhythm Euijoo knew meant he was thinking, or perhaps, waiting for Euijoo to ask.
Euijoo merely shook his head, feigning exasperation. "Right, because charm gets you a top score in Physics. Anyway, did you actually get anything done for Mr. Lee's class?"
He waved a dismissive hand. "Mostly outlined the essay on the economic impact of the Korean War. Riveting stuff, really. I was thinking of opening with a quote from… what's his face? The guy who talked about self-reliance?"
"Kim Gu," Euijoo supplied instantly, his highlighter still poised over his math. This was their dynamic, a comfortable back-and-forth where Nicholas would throw out a half-formed thought, and Euijoo, with his quieter, more methodical mind, would provide the missing piece, the logical conclusion. It was effortless.
"Right! Kim Gu. You're a lifesaver, Byun," he said, and the genuine gratitude in his voice was soft, warm. He leaned forward slightly, his elbow brushing Euijoo's on the table. The contact was fleeting, barely there, but Euijoo felt it like a jolt, a static charge against his skin. He swallowed, a dryness suddenly in his throat, and focused intently on the numbers blurring on his page. He could feel Nicholas presence beside him, a comfortable weight, a familiar warmth. It was moments like these, when the world outside their shared bubble seemed to fade, that Euijoo allowed himself to wonder if maybe, just maybe, this close proximity, this quiet intimacy, meant something more than friendship.
"I was thinking," Nicholas continued, blissfully unaware of the minor earthquake he’d just caused in Euijoo’s chest, "we should grab tteokbokki after this. My treat. As a thank you for your encyclopedic brain."
Euijoo finally looked up again, his gaze finding the other boy's face. The library lights reflected in his eyes, making them seem even darker, more intense. He was smiling, a genuine, easy smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. It was the smile he showed to everyone, but Euijoo felt a secret, proprietary claim to it. He knew the subtle variations, the almost imperceptible changes that signified a truly happy version of him versus a politely amused one. This one was happy. For a second, the thought crossed Euijoo's mind: I could tell him. I could just say it. The words hovered on his tongue, a fragile, unspoken plea. I don't want tteokbokki as a friend, Nico. I want…
But the moment passed, as it always did. The familiar pull of caution, the silent voice of reason that reminded him of the unspoken boundaries, drew him back. Ruining this, this comfortable, easy companionship, for a feeling that might not even be reciprocated? It was a risk Euijoo wasn't ready to take, not when he was still so quick to subtly reinforce their platonic bond.
He cleared his throat, a small, almost imperceptible sound. "Sure, tteokbokki sounds good. But only if you promise to actually study tomorrow night."
He let out a theatrical groan, leaning back in his chair again. "A deal with the devil, truly. But for tteokbokki, anything." He picked up his textbook, finally, and opened it with a sigh of mock resignation. Euijoo watched him, the way the library light caught the curve of his cheek, the slight furrow in his brow as he scanned a page. He was beautiful, in an effortless, unpretentious way. And he was Euijoo’s best friend.
Just friends. Euijoo repeated the words in his head, a quiet mantra against the louder, more insistent beat of his heart. It was easier that way. To just be, suspended in the comfortable quiet.
2.
The late afternoon sun, already dipping towards the horizon, cast long, distorted shadows across the asphalt basketball court behind the local community center. The air, still clinging to the warmth of a mild spring day, was filled with the rhythmic squeak of sneakers, the thump of a basketball, and the easy chatter of familiar voices. This was their usual post-school haven, a place to shed the day's academic pressures.
K and Fuma, home from their university classes for the weekend, were locked in a surprisingly intense one-on-one match at one end of the court, their competitive energy palpable even from the sidelines. K, all sharp movements and focused intensity, dribbled around Fuma, who, despite his broader build, was surprisingly agile.
Euijoo sat on the worn concrete steps leading up to the small spectator area, a half-empty sports drink beside him. He watched the game, offering an occasional shouted comment of encouragement, but his attention wasn't entirely consumed by the court. Nicholas was perched on the step just below him, leaning back on his hands, a light jacket slung over his shoulders. He was idly flipping a stray pebble with his thumb, occasionally glancing up at the game, but mostly just being .
Yuma and Jo were huddled a few steps away, engrossed in a discussion about a new mobile game, their heads bent together in shared enthusiasm. Harua and Maki were sitting slightly apart, sketching in small notebooks, occasionally sharing hushed comments and quiet giggles. Taki, ever restless, was weaving aimlessly around the court's perimeter, occasionally attempting to intercept a stray ball with more enthusiasm than skill.
"K's really going for it today," Euijoo commented idly, watching K execute a particularly clean layup.
Nicholas hummed in agreement, still flipping the pebble. "He always does. You’d think going to university would mellow him out, but nah. He’s just as intense." He finally caught the pebble, flicking it towards a crack in the asphalt.
It was a comfortable silence that fell between them then, filled only by the sounds of the game and their friends. It wasn't awkward; it was the kind of quiet that only happens between people who share a profound sense of ease. They could just exist together, without the need for constant conversation, a testament to years of shared experiences.
A moment later, Fuma, having just missed a shot, strode off the court, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “C’mon, Euijoo! Let's see if you've been secretly practicing those three-pointers."
Euijoo straightened up, ready to move, but before he could respond, Nicholas spoke up, his voice casual, almost dismissive in its ease. "Nah, he's saving his energy. We've got a study session later." He tossed a water bottle to Fuma. "Hydrate."
Fuma shrugged, accepting the bottle. "Alright, alright, i’ll let him off the hook for today," he teased, ruffling Euijoo’s hair before heading off to challenge Jo to a game instead. K, wiping his face with his shirt, came to sit near them, exchanging a few quiet words with Nicholas about something only they seemed to care about.
Euijoo sat back down, a familiar mix of gratitude and quiet resignation settling over him. Nicholas often did this – subtly intervened, shielded Euijoo from social demands, almost anticipating his needs before Euijoo himself did. It was a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but to Euijoo, it felt like a protective bubble, a quiet declaration of care that was simultaneously so much and yet nothing at all. He wondered, sometimes, if Nicholas even knew he did it, or if it was just an unconscious habit born of years of shared space. What if he wasn't just being a good friend? What if...? The thought was a dangerous spark, quickly extinguished.
Later, as the sun began to truly dip, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the group began to pack up. Yuma, walking past them, clapped Nicholas on the shoulder. "See you guys at school on Monday, alright? Don't let Euijoo work too hard, Nico."
Nicholas grinned, an easy, charming smile that showed no hint of the deeper current that ran between him and Euijoo. "As if I'd let him overwork himself. I’ll knock him out if I have too." He then leaned closer to Euijoo, his voice dropping to a near whisper, just for his ears. "Ready to get out of here? I'm starving."
Euijoo nodded, a warmth spreading through him at the familiar invitation, the one that always followed these group hangouts. It was their ritual, their quiet transition from being part of the crowd to just being them. Nicholas was effortlessly part of the group, laughing loudly with Fuma, teasing Taki, sharing snacks with Harua and Maki. He was everyone’s friend, easily blending into any conversation. But with Euijoo, there was an almost imperceptible shift in his energy, a micro-focus that pulled them into their own orbit. It was a subtle lean-in, a shared glance, a voice that dropped just for him. Euijoo felt it, the subtle pull, the way Nicholas always seemed to gravitate back to his side, even when surrounded by others.
As they walked towards the gate, leaving their friends to gather their bags and continue their banter, Euijoo glanced at Nicholas. He was walking a step ahead, talking over his shoulder, completely at ease. Euijoo knew their friends saw them as the ultimate platonic pairing, the two anchors of their social circle. And Nicholas, by his own actions, by his casual deflects and his easy demeanor, perpetuated that image. Euijoo wondered if anyone else noticed the way Nicholas's gaze softened just for him, the almost imperceptible lean-ins, the quiet invitations that only Euijoo seemed to receive. Probably not. And that was the point, wasn't it? If others didn't notice, then there was nothing to lose by continuing to hope, was there? He often found himself pondering this line they walked – a tightrope between something profound and the careful performance of mere friendship.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the warmth of the setting sun touch his face. To step off that line, to admit the depth of his feelings, felt like plunging into an unknown abyss. Better to stay here, suspended in this beautiful, frustrating uncertainty, where every quiet moment with Nicholas felt like a secret treasure.
3.
The late hour was usually Euijoo’s favorite part of the day. The city outside his window quieted to a low hum, the streetlights casting long, lonely shadows, and the only sound in his room was the low murmur of Nicholas’s voice through the phone. They’d fallen into this habit years ago, late-night calls a sacred space where the day’s filters dropped away. Tonight, however, the familiar comfort of it was brittle, stretched thin by a new, unwelcome tension.
"So, he was… nice, I guess," Nicholas was saying, his tone carefully neutral, almost dismissive. "A friend of K-hyung's set it up. We just went for coffee."
Euijoo’s grip tightened imperceptibly on his phone. He was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the faint, uneven texture of the paint rather than the knot forming in his stomach. A blind date. Nicholas had gone on a blind date earlier in the week, and he was telling Euijoo about it, as if it were the most normal, mundane thing in the world. And to Nicholas, it probably was.
"Oh," Euijoo managed, his voice sounding far more even than he felt. "And… how was it?"
There was a slight pause on the other end, a rustle of what sounded like bedsheets. "It was fine. He talked a lot about his major, which was… enthusiastic. And he ordered me a caramel macchiato even after I specifically said I prefer Americano." A soft chuckle, full of affectionate exasperation, carried through the line. "Seriously, who does that?"
Euijoo felt a perverse, immediate surge of something akin to victory, quickly followed by a wave of shame. He knew Nicholas’s coffee order, complicated and specific – a large iced Americano, extra shot, splash of cold water, no ice in the winter. It was something he'd instinctively memorized years ago, something he usually had ready before Nicholas even had to ask. Did Nicholas compare this date’s oversight to Euijoo’s quiet efficiency? Did he even register Euijoo’s perfect recall as something special, or merely convenient? Probably the latter, a cynical voice whispered in Euijoo’s mind.
"Maybe he was trying to be thoughtful," Euijoo offered, trying to sound genuinely helpful, supportive. His role, always. The reliable one. The one who gave advice without judgment. "Or maybe he just has bad taste." He tried for a light laugh, but it felt hollow.
"Maybe," Nicholas sighed, a longer, more contemplative sound this time. "Honestly, I think he was just nervous. It's fine. Not really my type, but it was nice to… try something new, you know?"
Trying something new. The words echoed in Euijoo’s head. This was it, wasn't it? The beginning of Nicholas stepping out, actively seeking something Euijoo desperately wanted to offer, but couldn't. Not openly. Not without risking everything. They were on the cusp of university, of separate paths, and Nicholas was already looking for a future that didn't necessarily include Euijoo in the way Euijoo envisioned. The comfortable bubble of their late-night calls, their shared spaces, their easy understanding – it felt like it was starting to crack.
"Yeah, I get it," Euijoo said, pushing down the sudden tightness in his chest. "It's good to put yourself out there. You never know what might happen." The platitudes felt like sandpaper against his tongue, chafing, hurting. You never know who you might meet. Someone who sees you in the daylight. Someone who doesn't have to wonder if you compare them to the person who knows your complicated coffee order.
"Exactly!" Nicholas’s voice brightened slightly. "My mom was really pushing for me to, you know, expand my horizons before I get too swamped with exams. Maybe I'll go on another one next week, if K-hyung has anyone else in mind."
Next week. The timeline was accelerating. Euijoo imagined Nicholas with someone else, sharing these same late-night calls, or perhaps, no, not late-night calls. Sharing something else entirely, something deeper, something that wasn't confined to the shadows of night. The thought was a sharp pang. He wanted to scream, to confess, to beg him not to. But what would he even say? Don't go on dates because I want you to want me? It was absurd. It was selfish.
"That sounds… good, Nico," Euijoo said, his voice softer now, tinged with a weariness he couldn't quite mask. "Just make sure they at least remember if you take sugar or not."
Nicholas laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound that almost made Euijoo forget the ache. "You’re right! Priorities, Euijoo. Always. Thanks for listening, as always. You're the best."
"Anytime," Euijoo replied, the word feeling heavier than it should. The "best friend" label felt less like a comfort and more like a cage. He heard the slight click as Nicholas ended the call. Euijoo slowly lowered his phone, the screen already dark. The quiet hum of the city remained, but the room felt colder, emptier. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, but it did little to ward off the chill that had settled deep in his bones. He knew Nicholas meant well. He knew Nicholas valued him. But to be valued as a confidante, as a reliable presence, when all he truly wanted was to be seen as more than that… It was a lonely kind of love to hold, a constant ache.
He lay there for a long time, the darkness of his room mirroring the quiet, heavy questions in his mind. The thought of Nicholas, so casually pursuing connections, felt like a stark reminder of the boundary Euijoo dared not cross. Each passing moment, each potential date, felt like a slow erosion of the uncertain, fragile hope he clung to. He wondered if the daylight would ever truly reveal the unspoken truth between them, or if his deepest desires would forever remain confined to the shadows of these late-night conversations.
4.
The only light in Euijoo's room spilled from his desk lamp, casting a warm, contained circle that illuminated textbooks and scattered notes. Beyond its reach, the corners of the room were swallowed by shadow, and outside the window, the city was a tapestry of distant, sparkling lights against the deep, velvet black of a late spring night. The air was still, save for the soft rustle of turning pages and the occasional click of a pen.
Nicholas was stretched out on the floor beside Euijoo’s desk, head propped up on a cushion, a history textbook balanced precariously on his chest. His usual boundless energy seemed muted by the late hour, replaced by a quiet focus that Euijoo found himself mesmerized by. Every so often, he'd lift his gaze, dark eyes meeting Euijoo's across the small space, and offer a small, conspiratorial grin that made Euijoo's stomach flutter. They were supposed to be reviewing for their upcoming final exams, but Euijoo’s concentration kept fracturing, pulled relentlessly towards the boy only a few feet away.
"Okay, so for the economic reforms, you're sure it's the third major policy shift that had the most impact on industrial growth?" Nicholas murmured, his voice a low, sleepy rumble. He didn't wait for Euijoo to answer, just sighed softly and turned a page. The dim light highlighted the curve of his neck, the way a stray lock of hair fell over his forehead.
Euijoo swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Yeah, the third one. Specifically, how it impacted the chaebols." He forced his gaze back to his own notes, the words blurring on the page. He knew the answer perfectly well, but his mind was replaying every small interaction, every shared breath in the quiet room. This kind of intimacy, this comfortable solitude, felt like a dangerous privilege. It was moments like these, bathed in the moon’s borrowed light, that the lines between them blurred into something impossibly tender. He found himself wondering, If I reached out, just now, would he pull away? What if I said something, anything, that wasn't about history or exams? The thought was terrifying, intoxicating.
A few minutes later, Nicholas shifted, pushing himself up to lean against the side of the desk, closer now. "Ugh, my brain is fried. How do you do this, Euijoo? You just absorb it all." He rubbed his eyes, a small yawn escaping him.
Euijoo felt a warmth spread through him at the close proximity, the soft brush of Nicholas’s arm against his. "It's just practice," he replied, his voice softer than he intended. He found himself watching the way Nicholas’s eyelids drooped slightly, the genuine fatigue etched on his features. It was a vulnerability Nicholas rarely showed to anyone else.
"Practice, right," Nicholas scoffed, but there was no real bite to it. He leaned his head back, resting it against the desk. "I swear, I'm going to sleep for a week straight once these are over. Then just… chill. No more school, no more studying, just figuring out university." He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Maybe another one of K-hyung's setups too, if something interesting comes up."
The casual mention of another date, of another one of K-hyung's setups , was like a sudden splash of icy water. The fragile intimacy that had built between them in the soft lamplight shattered. Euijoo felt his chest tighten, the longing he’d been carefully holding back threatening to overwhelm him. Nicholas spoke of his future, of university, of potential dates, with such a carefree detachment. Did he ever consider Euijoo in those plans? Not as a study partner, or a late-night confidante, but as someone who might stand beside him, in the daylight?
Euijoo managed a tight smile, turning a page in his book with a little too much force. "Yeah. Sounds… exciting. You deserve a break after all this." He hated how flat his voice sounded, how utterly neutral . What else could he say? He wanted to grab Nicholas, shake him, demand to know why he couldn’t see what was so clear, so painfully obvious, to Euijoo himself. Don't you see me? Don't you feel this? Or am I just the comfortable shadow in your life, only visible when the sun goes down?
Nicholas, seemingly oblivious, pushed himself upright again, stretching his arms above his head. "You too, Euijoo. You've worked harder than anyone." He then grinned, a wide, genuine smile that always made Euijoo’s heart ache. "Alright, one more section and then I'm calling it a night. You gonna survive till morning without my genius guidance?"
Euijoo returned the smile, a practiced reflex, even as a quiet despair settled over him. "I'll try my best." He watched Nicholas gather his books, the way his movements were fluid and unburdened. Nicholas was perfectly at ease, completely unaware of the emotional storm brewing within Euijoo. He saw a friend, a reliable presence. And Euijoo was, indeed, reliable. Always there. Always supportive. Always hiding a love that felt too big for the space Nicholas had carved out for himself in Euijoo’s heart.
He was tired, suddenly, bone-deep tired of the charade. The quiet of the room, once so comforting, now felt suffocating. It was a silence filled with unspoken words, with aching possibilities that Nicholas, in his easy acceptance of their arrangement, would never acknowledge. Euijoo could only watch, and wonder how much longer he could keep all this inside, as the moments they shared, precious and fleeting, slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.
5.
The relentless march of final exams had swallowed their days whole, leaving little room for anything but textbooks and the frantic ticking of the clock. For Euijoo, it was almost a blessing, a convenient shield behind which he could begin the quiet, painful process of letting go. He’d told himself that this was it. This was the year their friendship would simply… unravel. They’d go to different universities, drift apart, and Nicholas, with his effortless charm and boundless energy, would continue his life without him, a constant sun moving on, unaware of the shadow it left behind. Euijoo had always been the shadow, hadn’t he? Always there, in the periphery, easy to take for granted. There was nothing more he could do.
So, he started making excuses. When Nicholas called late at night, Euijoo would let it ring a few extra times, before answering with a voice carefully pitched to sound exhausted, preoccupied. "Hey, Nico. Sorry, just finished a study group... need to crash." Or, "Can't really talk now, still wrestling with this math problem. What's up?" He was still there, technically, but he wasn't available in the same consuming way. His schedule, once so fluid for Nicholas, now seemed rigidly defined by unseen commitments. "Oh, I'm meeting Yuma after school," or "Got an early hagwon class, can't stay late today." He never overtly refused, never gave an outright 'no,' just subtly rerouted their paths, creating small, almost imperceptible detours away from their usual shared spaces.
Nicholas noticed it first during their lunch breaks. Euijoo, who usually gravitated towards their usual table without thought, would occasionally be found sitting with Jo, or deeply engrossed in conversation with Harua. When Nicholas spotted him and waved, Euijoo would offer a quick, almost apologetic smile, a gesture that felt more like a polite acknowledgement than an invitation. Nicholas would just shrug, tell himself Euijoo was just busy, stressed with exams. Everyone was.
Then came the texts. Nicholas would send a quick meme, or a funny observation about a teacher, something Euijoo would usually respond to instantly, with a string of laughing emojis or a dry comeback. Now, the replies were slower. A few hours, sometimes. A short "lol" or a "true." The effortless back-and-forth, the rapid-fire banter that made up so much of their daily communication, was replaced by something sporadic, disjointed.
One afternoon, after a particularly draining history exam, Nicholas found himself walking out of the school gates alone. He’d waited, lingering by the bike racks, unconsciously scanning for Euijoo, for the familiar sight of him slinging his bag over his shoulder. But Euijoo wasn't there. He’d seen him leave earlier, slipping out a side exit with Jo, seemingly deep in conversation. Nicholas frowned, a vague sense of unease settling over him. It wasn't just the exams, was it? It felt different. Quieter.
The realization began to gnaw at him, a subtle, growing discomfort. He missed the ease. He missed the way Euijoo just was there, a comforting weight in his periphery. He missed the quick, knowing glances, the immediate understanding that made even mundane moments feel significant. He missed the steady presence that had always anchored his more chaotic impulses. He’d taken it for granted, the unspoken constant that was Euijoo. Now, that constant was shifting, receding, and Nicholas felt a hollow ache where it used to be. The jokes he thought of, the casual observations he used to save for Euijoo, felt stale when kept to himself. The world, without Euijoo's quiet resonance, felt a little flatter, a little less vibrant. He didn’t know why this distance had grown, why Euijoo was less… Euijoo . He only knew that the easy comfort of his days had begun to dissipate. And the sudden chill that settled over him had nothing to do with the setting sun.
+1.
The final exams were over. The school year, and with it, the precarious balance of Euijoo's life, hung suspended in a fragile, liminal space. He'd tried to make peace with it. He'd put distance between them, convinced himself that this was the natural order of things, the gentle, inevitable end to a friendship that had always asked more of him than Nicholas ever knew. He’d told himself Nicholas wouldn't care. That he was just a shadow, easily forgotten when the sun rose on a new path.
He was walking home alone, the late afternoon sun already dipping below the apartment complexes, casting long, distorted shadows that felt fitting to his mood. He’d deliberately taken a different route, one he knew Nicholas wouldn’t usually take. He just wanted to disappear, to process the hollow ache in his chest in solitude. But a familiar voice cut through the quiet hum of the street, sharp and insistent.
"Euijoo! Wait up!"
Euijoo froze, his heart seizing in his chest. Nicholas. He didn’t turn immediately, a desperate, futile hope that if he ignored it, the voice would fade. It didn’t. Footsteps pounded behind him, and then Nicholas was there, breathing hard, his hand closing around Euijoo’s arm. The touch was firm, familiar, and Euijoo's carefully constructed detachment began to crack.
"Why are you avoiding me?" Nicholas demanded, his eyes, usually so bright and carefree, clouded with a confusion that bordered on frustration. "You haven't been answering my calls properly, you're never around at lunch, you're always 'busy.' What's going on?"
The words, direct and unwavering, hit Euijoo like a physical blow. He pulled his arm away, taking a step back, his own voice tight with a sudden, unexpected surge of a different emotion – not anger at Nicholas, but a simmering, self-directed fury. "What's going on?" he repeated, the words tasting bitter. "What's going on , Nico, is that exams are over, and we're about to go to different universities, and I'm tired of playing the part."
Nicholas blinked, taken aback by the uncharacteristic edge in Euijoo’s voice. "Playing what part? What are you talking about?"
Euijoo felt the dam burst. The despair, the resignation, the years of unspoken longing, all mixed with a hot, shameful anger at his own foolishness. His eyes welled up, tears blurring the edges of Nicholas’s bewildered face. "The part where I just… exist for you! The one who always picks up, always knows your ridiculous coffee order, always cleans up your academic messes, always just there !" His voice cracked, rising with each word. "The one who watches you go on dates, and pretends it doesn't break something inside him, because God forbid I ever make you uncomfortable by acting like anything more than a glorified shadow!"
Tears streamed down Euijoo’s face now, hot and unstoppable. He swiped at them angrily, humiliated, yet unable to stop the torrent of words. "I'm so sick of it, Nico! I'm sick of feeling like I'm a permanent fixture in the background of your life, someone you only notice when I'm not doing everything for you, someone you wouldn’t care if I just disappeared!" His chest heaved, a raw, aching sob tearing its way out. "I fell in love with you, okay?! Years ago! And I watched you just… be you, and let me be the one who loved you from the sidelines, because I was too scared to lose what little I had! But I'm losing it anyway, aren't I? We're losing it, and you don't even care because you'll just go find someone else who'll remember your coffee order!"
The air vibrated with Euijoo’s raw confession, heavy with tears and pent-up frustration. Nicholas stood utterly still, his own face slowly draining of color, eyes wide with shock. The words hung between them, stark and unyielding. Euijoo could see the moment the shock began to recede, replaced by something else – a dawning comprehension, a flicker of vulnerability Euijoo rarely witnessed.
"Euijoo…" Nicholas’s voice was a rough whisper, barely audible. He took a hesitant step closer, his hand reaching out, then dropping. His eyes searched Euijoo's, a desperate, searching intensity. "You… you think I don't care?" He sounded genuinely hurt, bewildered. "You think I haven't noticed? That I haven't been feeling this… this emptiness when you started pulling away? It felt like someone had just… cut a string I didn't even know was there, holding me up."
He took another step, closing the distance, his voice gaining a shaky urgency. "I didn't understand why I felt so off, why everything felt wrong without you there. I thought you were just busy, or mad at me. I kept checking my phone, hoping you'd text, hoping you'd call. I tried to make plans, and when you made excuses, it felt like… like I was losing something I couldn't live without." His eyes, dark and glistening in the fading light, locked onto Euijoo’s. "I didn't know what it was, Euijoo. I just knew I couldn't stand not having you there, not having you ."
Nicholas reached out, gently cupping Euijoo’s tear-streaked face in his hands. His thumbs tenderly wiped away the wetness on Euijoo's cheeks. "I was stupid. So stupid. I was so comfortable, so used to you just being there for me, that I never stopped to think what that meant. What you meant." His voice was barely a murmur now, thick with emotion. "I can't imagine… I don't want to imagine my life without you. Not as a friend, not as a shadow, but as… as mine ."
His gaze dropped to Euijoo’s lips, then back to his eyes, full of a vulnerability Euijoo had only ever dreamed of. "Euijoo, please. Don't be just my friend. Will you… will you be my boyfriend?"
The question hung in the air, shattering the last vestiges of Euijoo's despair. His breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears, this time of overwhelming relief and disbelief, stinging his eyes. He didn't need words. He launched himself forward, burying his face in Nicholas’s shoulder, his arms winding tightly around his waist. Nicholas’s arms immediately wrapped around him, holding him close, a fierce, desperate embrace.
"Yes," Euijoo choked out, the single word muffled against Nicholas’s shirt, wet with his tears. "Yes, Nico. Always yes."
Nicholas pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Euijoo’s eyes, his own glistening. He leaned in slowly, giving Euijoo every chance to pull away. Euijoo met him halfway, his lips finally meeting Nicholas’s in a kiss that was messy and desperate, tasting of salt and longing and years of unspoken love. It was soft at first, then deepened, a fervent exchange of all the emotions they had kept hidden, a promise made in the twilight. Nicholas’s hands moved to Euijoo’s hair, gently cradling the back of his head, pulling him impossibly closer until there was no space left between them. They held each other for a long time, rocked by the tremors of their combined confessions, under the vast, darkening sky, where the moonlight would soon claim them.
bonus +1.
The late afternoon sun streamed through Nicholas’s bedroom window, painting stripes of warmth across the wooden floor. The air was thick with the lazy hum of summer, punctuated only by the soft, familiar melody of a playlist Nicholas had curated, trickling from a speaker on his desk. Gone were the pressures of looming deadlines and the strained silence that once filled their shared moments. Now, the space was just for them.
Being Nicholas's boyfriend, Euijoo had quickly discovered, was an experience. Euijoo, it turned out, had entirely reverted to his "Nico-centered" ways, still making sure Nicholas had the perfect snack, still offering his shoulder as a comfortable headrest. He found himself saying yes to every single one of Nicholas's casual requests, a smile playing on his lips even as he stretched to grab the distant bag of chips. He was still giving, still anticipating Nicholas's whims, still centering his world around the boy with a heart too big for his own good.
The difference, though, was everything.
Nicholas was beside him on the rug, head propped against Euijoo’s thigh, idly tracing patterns on Euijoo’s knee. The soft, familiar melody of the music filled the comfortable quiet between them. Nicholas tilted his head back, his eyes finding Euijoo’s, and a soft, easy smile bloomed, meant only for him. There was no more guarding, no more holding back. Just an open, undeniable fondness in those dark eyes.
"This song reminds me of that cafe we found last winter," Nicholas murmured, his voice low and content. His fingers, which had been idly tracing Euijoo’s knee, now intertwined with his. It was a simple, unhurried gesture, a natural continuation of their comfortable space. He wasn't just mentioning a memory; he was drawing Euijoo into it, sharing it, making it theirs.
"The one with the terrible hot chocolate?" Euijoo asked, his voice soft, a comfortable warmth spreading through him. He leaned down slightly, just enough to brush his lips against Nicholas's hair.
Nicholas chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound that made Euijoo's chest vibrate slightly, just from their proximity. "Exactly! But the vibes were impeccable. Like this." He gestured vaguely around the sunlit room, then his hand stretched out, his fingers intertwining with Euijoo's.
Euijoo’s thumb instinctively brushed over Nicholas's knuckles, a gentle, reciprocal touch. He spent so many years analyzing Nicholas’s every fleeting glance, searching for a hidden meaning. Now, there was no hiding. Nicholas's attention, warm and present, felt like a constant, gentle current flowing directly towards him.
Just yesterday, they'd been walking home, side by side, just like always. But this time, Nicholas's arm had linked through Euijoo's, his body subtly settling against Euijoo's as they walked, a comfortable, undisputed claim. He'd reached for Euijoo's hand without a second thought, their fingers lacing together, the warmth spreading through Euijoo's entire arm. It was intimacy that was no longer fleeting, no longer a guess, no longer hidden. It was out in the open, undeniable.
Euijoo, who had lived in the shadows of an unrequited love, content with the scraps of attention, the convenient presence, the role of the quiet, reliable backdrop, was now undeniably, beautifully, right in the center of Nicholas's world. He could reach out and touch him, kiss him, just because he could . He could feel Nicholas's gaze on him, steady and warm, without a single question of what it meant.
He looked at Nicholas now, truly seeing him in the golden afternoon light – his messy hair, the contented smile playing on his lips, the way his eyes, dark and expressive, were completely, utterly focused on Euijoo. It was everything he had ever wanted, every desperate wish he'd buried deep within his heart. The fear of being a shadow had been replaced by the blinding, overwhelming joy of being everything.
"Yeah," Euijoo said, his voice soft, almost awed. "Perfectly like this." He squeezed Nicholas's hand, feeling the solid warmth, the tangible connection. The hum of the summer afternoon, the gentle music, the sunlight streaming in – it all felt like a celebration. He was here, fully present, bathed in Nicholas’s light, and it felt like home.